#things started making sense WAY too quickly. you were coming with him REGARDLESS

[kiwanopie]

A Lucky Find.

Pure luck, isn’t it? (Geto Suguru x fem!sorcerer!Reader)

cw: yandere if you squint. mention of misogyny and inappropriate work place relationships, graphic descriptions of curses and body horror, death by mutilation involving a curse (Not you), mention of religion, only specifics about reader is that she’s visibly very attractive and may have long hair (no descriptors though, it could be a lace) Suguru is out of his mind. You will not be called a monkey in this one.

wc: 3.9k

You’re not a very talkative assistant.

Granted sometimes you’re inclined to wonder if talking would’ve made so much of a difference to the position you’ve been put in, but you’ve never been a particularly choosy assistant either. You’re great at handling quick business, the calls your boss can’t be bothered to take - studious in your evening planning and you can quick work a coffee run like nobody's business. — You don’t complain about the thin heels they put you in, or the pencil skirts. Mired businessmen with filthy smirks and wondering eyes, or the routine baby talk you get from your degenerate boss. You don’t blink an eye at it. - You sit when you’re told to sit and bark when Mr. Minoru decides to hold that pretty little bone over your head.

“You could use a bonus, huh?”

Today it’s a back rub.

You’re silent as your nimble fingers start to press little groves in his upper back, impassive when he groans. Mr. Minoru, your boss, is a very rich man. He’s the successor of a retired tycoon who was once the successor of another and so forth. He’s an amalgamation of power and fortune and a small legion of nepotism babies that regularly walk in through those mahogany doors just ahead of his desk. An investor, you think. Most conversations he has are about money and the best way to double it; fewer are the ones where he’s actually taking the time out of his schedule to distribute it.

It’s all elite talk. Big men following big men following a perv who believes he’s god. Long outstretched legs that extend as he relaxes himself in his seat and hopes that the movement is enough to encourage you to start on his shoulders.

You like to think you got this job out of pure luck. Met the right man at the right time and stumbled over the deal of a lifetime all for the small cost of a little bit of your dignity. — Not like it was much of a trade from your part time job busing tables at that high-end restaurant. Being yelled at by bratty celebrities at a fraction of the price and coming home smelling reminiscent of a meat locker. Now you’re standing on the top floor of a penthouse suite. Smelling of expensive perfume that your boss totally didn’t break worker/boss relation code for and looking down at the entirety of Tokyo from its bay windows.

Pure luck.

The creature hooked to the upper side of his shoulder unfastens its teeth with a firm graze of your fingers. The steam it emits as it fizzles away is sour.

Mr. Minoru has a pension for starting fights with the wrong people, it seems. With bitter people - scornful people. People who hate him and can’t do anything about it, other than wish him harm or hex him in some way. — Worst are the people who don’t hate him, who envy him. Step into his office with painted smiles and clenched teeth. Who curse his name the moment they leave and leave you to deal with these little “bugs.”

Your nose twitches as its rotten smell encombers. For a moment your pretty face is twisted up in a scowl.

The massages started from an offhand graze of your fingers during a dinner at your old job. Pretty little waitress bending over him in that little work dress and running your finger down his felted coat. You apologize for your familiarity, someone must’ve spilled something on his jacket. ~ But the weight on his back is gone from just that little touch and now he’s offering you a job. You don’t regularly make a habit of helping those you’ve already deemed “afflicted.” But the fucker making goo trails on his back at the time was just disgusting enough to hinder your train of thought, and there’s no way you could’ve gone through your shift without reviling every time you passed his table.

So, now you’re his assistant - and today it’s just a back rub. Thankfully not a request to play with his hair and try not to cringe at the way he shutters from it. A subtle pat on the cheek for his good luck kiss, or a request to sit on his lap while he tells you a story he doesn’t care if you’re listening to. Because you’re quiet.

His not talkative, non-fussy, no complaints assistant.

Like always he fills the empty air in place of your silence. “Ah. By the way, princess. We’ve got a guest coming around after lunch. A real traditional fella. So, we’ll need to be on our best behavior,”

“Apparently he’s got some sort of business opportunity for me in exchange for a few investments,” He sighs when your fingers dip a little under his collar. “Says that in his big fuckin’ haori. Probably cost a few thousand bucks,”

Mr. Minoru shifts his shoulders under your firm touches. “To be completely honest, I don’t really know about it aside from the gag of seeing him in person again. Guy has this weird energy about himself that gives me the creeps. — Says he’s avant-garde. — I just think he’s a weird fuckin’ guy.”

“But,” The exhale he lets out is tempered and whisky tinted, clears out the fresh space in his chest that usually frees up when you’ve got your hands on him. “My old man likes ‘em. Says he’d be good for my health if I kept him around. At the very least build some sorta relationship with him.”

“Too bad my health’s in tip-top shape! Eh, doll-baby?” Minoru twists his head to flash you an expensive smile. Faintly defined cheekbones turning rosy when you return it like you know you’re supposed to. “Got my little guru at my side!”

And your simper, although gentle, is forced. Distantly you wonder if you’re the reason these bugs have become so habitual.

——-

This man is very ill.

Though he walks in with his head held high and a particular spring in his step, your diagnosis is that he must be terminal. He must be diseased and irremediable. In a constant state of agony and so stricken with unwellness that he can’t even think straight. You’ve seen your fair share of “bugs” and rabid disfigured animals that grow out of their hosts like fungus. Some that trail behind like lost children with broken crackling legs - a stench that only accompanies the open wounds whose maggots reach out so helplessly. Disturbing things. For all of it you’ve seen, you’re lucky to say that those cases are few and far in between.

But this,

It has many hands and many faces.

Each accompanied by its own set of teeth. Curling lips that stutter as they rise, etched in lipstick and gum; you find mint leaves hidden in the valley of its tongue, coiling as it softly sings. Watching from afar as it hobbles on its haunches like a drunken man, or of fawn newly grazed. It is steady - and constantly moving. It buzzes like a million bees and yet the man standing next to it is seemingly unaffected.

And so are you.

Your gentility becomes you as you politely bow for the man who you’ve so gracefully led to Mr. Minoru’s office. A practiced curtsy is usually enough to get your usual guests commenting under their nose at your bosses taste in assistant’s, but this man is quiet as he walks past you. So above your head that it almost feels like he doesn’t even know you exist. And that feeling is… off putting to say the least.

You close the door behind him as your boss starts on introductions.

“Ah, so you’ve met my beautiful assistant!” He reaches out his hand. “Minoru. Nice to meet you.”

The genuinity in the man’s smile fastens his eyes into slits as he steps forward to return the shake. “Geto, likewise.”

“Geto, huh? I heard the old man sent you for an investment proposition. My guess is it’s something… traditional?” Minoru gestures toward his garbs.

He’s somewhat clinical in his attempt to look lighthearted, but the sigh he blows out feels trusting. “So this isn’t selling “contemporary” huh?”

Minoru laughs and the thing beside him whimpers.

Your fingers twitch against your work skirt.

You’re a distant shadow lingering behind the conversing men as you step to your post on the far side of the office wall, heels clicking quietly when you bend to fix yourself adjacent to Mr. Minoru’s desk. — You’re not expected to listen much to the conversation, or even understand the matters on which they talk about. Just straighten your back when your boss snaps his fingers and follow obediently when he coos an order.

But even if that weren’t the case, you’d say it’d be hard to pay any attention to anything other than whatever the fuck that is hunched beside the man standing just a few feet away. Singing quietly under its breath and repeating the tune like a prayer. Fearful, shaken, pleaful, dread inducing; overlapping in its many mouths. Your fingernails quietly scrape against each other in your attempt to remain neutral but from a keen eye you’re jarred. Disquietingly moving your eyes from the two men still talking adjacent from you and then it again.

It’s looking at you.

You force down a swallow when Minoru calls your name.

“Quiet thing, isn’t she?” Your boss comments amidst the conversation as you approach them. “Could almost forget she’s here if it weren’t for the eyecandy,”

You smile at him like he’s flattering you but it’s muscle memory. “Sir?”

“Gather up those papers from your desk over there, sweetpea. And hand it to the nice man.”

You almost don’t even wanna turn your back on it.

But against your own anxieties you do as you're told. Even with your nerves frayed as they are. You keep your posture as you hastily skirt to your desk and back across the room again. Nimble, slightly shaken fingers lowering to place it in Geto-san’s hand but he doesn’t acknowledge you even when you smile. Vacant eyes. Bored of you already. —- You don’t know if you should feel more offended or alarmed. But in your curtsy before backing away you decide to split the difference and go for disturbed.

Avant-garde. This guy just gives you the fuckin’ creeps.

He works in health, apparently. From what you’ve gathered in the continuing conversation, he’s a spiritual man who offers health by spiritual means. It’s not a very groundbreaking admission, especially from a man in traditional garb, but he assures that his practices have long surpassed ground theory and have been proven to guarantee actual results. From refractory diseases, mental illness, visible injury; his methods could completely eradicate the need for traditional medicine and take the health industry by storm.

But money is a long factor, longer in the doubtful and non-spiritual. “Non-worthy.” It sounds pointed the way he slips that in, but your red flags aren’t shared with your less than convinced boss.

“Spiritual healing sounds great and all, Geto buddy. But you’re directing services to a pretty biased market.” Minoru crosses one of his legs over the other from his perched position against his desk. “Even with the facts, the money’s in objectivity. You’d get more bang for your buck just saying any Yamada worth his salt can walk in and get rid a’ his sniffles for the right price. - Religion ‘ll just turn people off.”

Geto smiles patiently. “Ah, Minoru-san, we’re not religion based. Religion promotes powerlessness. Our services come from practical people.”

You watch as the creature messily swivels on its crooked legs when he invades its space by leaning back a little. “But to insert certain biases kind of sweetens the deal, doesn’t it? People like things that make them feel special. Even the most useless people should wanna prove themselves in some way, right?”

What a crooked way of thinking.

At your quiet displeasure the mass behind Geto wheezes painfully, wincing when you lock eyes with it. Its song pitches and warbles, chops a little like it’s weeping; but even in its effort to resume its discontent is palpable.

You could almost feel acknowledged by it. By its wandering eyes and its tightened misshapen shoulders. Almost as off put as you are from its spot in the middle of the room. The more you look at it, the more it starts to evoke pity. Even in its unsightliness, it looks misplaced and afraid. - Its song breaks like a cry for mercy and the closer you look at it the more recognizable its purpose becomes.

There are knots in its balmy skin so engorged they bleed and tear. Fabric mincing over fictional scabbing and prayer beads hanging out of its gashes. Every twitch it makes reverberates ricey out of rhythm beats akin to maracas and its song, as out of key as it is, is reverential. Powerlessness. Anodyne through faith. You barely find yourself pitying the afflictions of affected people but in the context of this conversation - it’s watering eyes; you feel empathetic toward this thing and by extension Geto-san.

You assume something awful must’ve started that way of thinking.

Should you even stick your neck out for this guy? You’ve dealt with bigger, more violent ones in any case. But this creature seems peaceful. Following faithfully on its hosts haunches as it waits patiently beside him. You’ll have to be fast and unflashy about it, hopefully the stench from that thing won’t make you hurl on impulse. But if not out of mercy, it would be nice to have it out of your line of vision.

Your eyes cross it again. It’s many eyes well with anguish. You decide that at your next opportunity you’ll get rid of it promptly.

As luck would have it Mr. Minoru’s personal phone rings.

He’s quick in his apologies as he fishes it out of his pocket. Passing a smile to Geto as he quickly bows and makes the few long strides it takes to step out of the door and into the hallway, and a few short snaps in your direction as he points you to the concessionaires reserved for his clients near the door.

You’re practiced as you dip for the little fridge on your left, carefully sliding out a glassed bottle of water from the door and a plastic bag of sliced apples.

“Would you like a snack while you wait, Geto-san?”

He ignores you.

Through a quietly exasperated sigh does he slide his phone out of his hakama and pointedly decide not to acknowledge your awkward stance at the far end of the room. — You know he ignores you because the silence that otherwise permeates the spaciousness of your boss's suite is momentarily disrupted by the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls; followed again by that frigid silence.

This is the guy you’re trying to help.

Even so, your embarrassment is brushed aside in favor of making your way to the small coffee table between him and the other leather seat parallel to his. Thin pencil skirt riding a little as you take wide steps to the little spot that separates him from the empty seat - and you from the thin sliver of carpet standing between he and the now quivering mass.

You bend to place the treats gingerly beside him.

And when you rise you reach for it.

There are practiced fingers circling around your wrist before you can even touch it.

Your fear is potent enough to turn its broken hums into racking sobs as you freeze in his sudden grip. Firmly clasped onto you as he raises your arm over your head and forces you to jolt back with a stuttered breath. Faint greyed markings on the palm of your hand fade but they’re caught under his watchful eye, and through your shock you watch his expression switch.

From confusion, to intrigue, to pure excitement.

Your shock teeters on horror as his pupils dilate. “Now, just what were those pretty fingers planning on doing?”

He seems to revel at the sheer bewilderment that colors in your pretty face from where you nervously stare up at him. Doe eyes lit up by headlights, and the radiative heat of suddenly being this close to his predatory gaze. You stammer. “Wh-? Y-You know it’s-“

“Brought it with me, didn’t I?” He speaks lowly as he circles his thumb over your wrist. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern though, sweetheart.”

You shrink. The absurdity of intentionally carrying a burden like this is as mind boggling as it is chilling. Dread inducing, even. With the kind of bad juju that thing emits there’s no other reason to purposefully let it fester beside you than for motives deeply depraved. Deeply disturbed. The way the air around him murkens and electrifies, and a glint in his eye that makes you feel like prey. — He’s looking at you like you’re dinner right now. And something about that feels trillions of times more frightening than any typical rubbernecking.

After being treated like a ghost by this man this whole time. Now he’s looking at you like you’re a slab of meat spread out for him. Succulent and tenderized, pliant under his fingers. Your soft eyes are rigid with fear as his other hand reaches for you blithely, larger fingers dipping in your loose hair and scooping it gently forward. You glance at it from the corner of your eye.

Smoke curls around his palm.

You suppress with a quiet intake of breath.

Geto-san’s cheeks pinken as he gleefully smiles, emboldened by a genuine tinge of ardor. You do your best not to flinch but it’s futile, his chilled fingers consolingly caress your face as he tuts; and gazes at you like he’s committing you to memory.

“Be patient for me, yeah? I’ll be done in a minute.”

You can’t even begin to guess what that means.

But before you can inquire he’s shushing you with a finger up to his lips. Playfully shooing you away as Mr. Minoru’s footsteps patter closer, and you clumsily re-fit yourself into your professional mask.

“Sorry ‘bout that, pal. Forgot about another meeting I was supposed to attend a little earlier,” He pockets his phone. “No one’s fault.”

He leans against the cliff of his desk where Geto-san’s planted himself again. Minoru glances at the unopened bag of apple slices. “Ah, _____, baby. You were supposed to hand him the good stuff.”

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“No worries.” Geto laughs airily. “How could anything look nearly as appetizing when you’ve got an assistant like that walking around?”

Your ears burn as Mr. Minoru snorts in kind. “Yeah, fair enough,”

He rolls up his sleeves. “A’right, princess. How bout you hop on over to my lounge and break open the good brandy for my guest and I. Bring us the crystal set. Can you do that?”

—-

The decanter in your hand falls with a dull thump.

There’s no… logical explanation for what you’re looking at right now — Who you’re looking at right now. In any other circumstance deep purples would be expected. Blotched boysenberries and flossy reds, dotted with strained blues. You’d expect tearing - bleeding, audible ginger snaps of tendons and extended bone. A scream even, no matter how silent; all are logically expected. Death is logically expected.

But seeing your boss stretched out like leather, not a full five minutes after leaving him alone with this man, is not.

Your eyes frantically skirt over your boss's heaving corpse from your exposed position at his closing entrance. Watching in repulsed terror as his skin tears and bruises, familiar prayer beads falling out of his flesh like stuffing. - His eyes are rolled agonizingly into the back of his head, mouth opened in a scream. His blood sizzles against the maple of his desk and you can do little but stare in horror.

You flinch as the mainline on his desk starts to go off but you’re no sooner cringing at the way his arm breaks just to reach for it. Bloody fingers pushing the receiver, and cheeks tearing just to respond.

His unchanged voice somehow makes it all the more horrifying. “Hi, Souza. Thanks for getting back to me,”

“Yeah, do me a favor,” You back into the door. “Route about ten million to Geto-san’s organization under investment. And be a dear and sign the invoice for me, would ya?”

You’re gonna be sick.

“So, you’re out of a job now, huh?” You nearly yelp.

Geto-san’s standing just over you. “I’ve got a pretty similar position opened up,” He says casually. “‘Wanna work for me?”

You can barely push out a word. Which, kind man that he is, helps you out by deciding for you. “Ah, Great! I can break you in on Sunday. Here’s my card.”

He smiles kindly as you hesitantly pluck the laminated card from his fingers. Looking at you under mirthful eyes that chill more than they comfort.

“If you’re worried about pay, I can give you double of whatever that monkey gave you. Maybe a little extra if you’re as good as he says you are.”

But before you can recoil at the thought of being stuck under the same kind of boss, with the extra caveat of being a psychopath; he adds with a hint of challenge. “That is, if you can get rid of our friend for us.”

You follow his glance to the creature wearing your boss like a hand puppet.

Do you even have a choice?

Geto-san watches with a keen eye as you warily approach the blinking, bleeding corpse behind your late boss’s desk. Heels clicking slowly against his wooden floors, skin prickling at the thought of even getting close to this thing let alone touch it. There’s a smell that you notice as you move closer. A rotten, discrepant smell that pushes as much as it pulls. Aging, airless skin, barreling toward cell death; only marginally slowed by the alkaline smell of embalming fluid. Too old. Too sour.

But there’s something about it that almost — Hypnotizes. Evokes a kind of nostalgia that almost completely disarms you. Church pews and goatskin, leather hardbacks under frilly gloves; and those damn prayer beads. You can almost hear your grandmother’s voice. The minty sweet taste of stale candies tinted by the perfume in her purse. ~ Watching worship but not understanding it. A contact high of conviction. Your boss’s blood spills and it means something sacred, something reverent. And the closer you get, the more that sacrifice feels for the better.

You flicker a glance in Geto-san’s direction. This guy had this shit on standby?

It’s clammy when your fingers finally graze its skin. Sweaty and twitching, like every touch is a pinched nerve; like every stroke stimulates. There’s movement under the first layer, a hissing under the second. It’s mania seeps off of it in droves and the more you linger on it, the more your stomach twists.

You draw back your hand and rub over the difference in texture.

The room is temporarily endowed with smoke at the snap of your fingers.

They’re both gone when the vapor quickly dissipates, blood formerly staining expensive maple now replaced with its originally polished shine. As well as his chair, his area rug, and any other evidence that could connote what truly horrific fate the man in question had suffered in this very room.

Which is enough to send Geto-san into an ecstatic flurry of applause. “H-Holy shit. Where have you been all my life?”

He’s more focused on the way the weight in your lips shift rather than that being because of a frown. Regardless, you’re still a picture despite it. “You’re gonna fit nicely. — My address is on the card. Come by nine? I’ll have breakfast ready by then.”

He turns with a relaxed lilt toward the exit. “You and I are gonna have a lot of fun.”

The door clicks as the lock disengages.

“Don’t make me come looking for you.”

reblogs are appreciated <3

#geto x reader #soon as he saw you were a sorcerer u started lookin fine as hell ngl #‘oh so they make em like that now?? sheeet’ #how much you wanna bet that ‘pure excitement’ was dead just him realizing how pretty you are at once #things started making sense WAY too quickly. you were coming with him REGARDLESS #geto suguru #jjk geto #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu geto #geto x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk #jjk anime #jujustu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere geto #fem reader #yandere geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines

[deadsetobsessions]

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

F

E

L

L.

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

#batman #peter parker #dc x marvel #Peter Parker gets yeeted into Gotham #spiderman #oc #red robin #dark matter #inspidered by the fic dark matter #yes that’s a pun #dick Grayson #nightwing #dick grayson is Richard Parker #richard parker #Oracle #Jason Todd #red hood #tfw you get conan’ed #Peter: making friends one roof top at a time #Spider in Gotham AU

[justabigassnerd]

I'm Right Here

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 3,515

Warnings - mentions of kidnappings, angst, but mostly fluff/comfort

Summary - You wander off during Maverick's volleyball match sending both you and him into a panic

A/N - it's a Maverick fic y'all!!!! I really enjoyed getting to explore what Mav would be like as a father, especially during the events of '86 Top Gun and I've also learnt that writing Goose and Mav's dynamic is my new favourite thing I love them. This was a request I was sent in and I hope I did it justice! I also just wanna say that watching the volleyball scene back showed me that they weren't actually on the beach so I set it kinda near the beach but not at the beach if that makes sense? Anyways I'll stop rambling now. As per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!

“Alright squirt, are you ready to see me and Uncle Goose beat Ice and Slider in volleyball?” Maverick asks with a grin as he scoops you up, making you squeal happily as you hug your dad tightly.

“Uncle Ice!” You cheer happily, excited at the thought of seeing Iceman. Maverick chuckles lightly at your words.

“You’re well on your way to breaking Goose’s heart, darling.” Maverick laughs before pressing a kiss to your temple. Since moving to Miramar to attend Top Gun, you’d decided Iceman was one of your new favourite people and Maverick saw how Ice looked out for you and appreciated it, regardless of their rivalry. Now, it meant that Goose was facing competition for the title of best uncle and Maverick thought it was hilarious.

“Let’s make sure we have everything packed so we can go to the beach once we’re done.” Maverick says and the second the beach is mentioned, you’re squirming to get out of his arms to gather the things you want to take with you to the beach. Maverick grabs a bag and lets you pack what you want while he packs some food to take to the beach. Once the bag is packed, Maverick helps you put your shoes on and as he straightens up and slings the bag over his shoulder, a knock at the door rings out.

“Hey, Goose.” Maverick greets his RIO with a smile as he opens the door.

“Hey, Mav.” Goose beams, giving Maverick a high-five as you notice Goose’s presence.

“Uncle Goose!” You yell excitedly, running to him as quickly as your legs could take you.

“Hey, pipsqueak! How’s my favourite Mitchell doing?” Goose says as he picks you up when you hold your arms up. Goose laughed when he saw Maverick’s narrowed eyes at his question.

“Those are brave words coming from someone whose position of favourite uncle is being threatened by Iceman.” Maverick says cockily as he slips his aviators on and grabs his keys before he brushes past Goose to exit the house, leaving Goose shocked as you giggled at his expression. Maverick would usually take his motorbike to the volleyball court but with you coming too he opted to walk instead. He didn’t live too far from the court and Goose offered to walk with you, so it was decided that the trio would walk.

“Mav is that- y/n, you prefer Uncle Goose to Iceman, right?” Goose asks desperately, maybe too desperately given that he was begging for approval from a three-year-old but being your godfather and had been your favourite uncle since you were born, he was willing to fight to hold on to that title.

“I love Uncle Goosey!” You say with a grin, making Goose nod in approval as he follows Maverick down the path.

“And I love Uncle Ice.” You admit which makes Maverick double over laughing when Goose’s smile drops from his face instantly. He quickly recovers and smiles at you once more.

“You’re going to break hearts when you’re older.” Goose says with a chuckle as you gesture that you want to be put down.

“We are not thinking about that Goose, stop talking.” Maverick says quickly, covering Goose’s mouth to stop him from talking any more. You were barely three years old, and Maverick was already dreading the day you’d grow up and start dating. As the three of you walked to the volleyball court, you kept running ahead, distracted by your surroundings and as Maverick turned his attention back to you, he found you almost wandering off.

“y/n/n, come here please!” He calls for you and you run right back to him. Maverick knelt down just before you reached him and he took your small hands in his.

“You can’t wander off, sweetheart, okay? Make sure you’re always in my sight, or Uncle Goose’s. Does that sound okay?” Maverick asks, his eyes searching yours as you nod.

“Okay, daddy.” You say with a large Cheshire cat grin that Maverick can’t help but mirror. Maverick then stands up to his full height and takes your hand once more, continuing the walk. When the three of you reach the court, you see Iceman and immediately, run up to him, demanding you get a hug as you greet him and of course, Iceman complies. As Iceman gives you a hug, Slider gives you a high-five, both men doting on you as Maverick puts the bag down and takes his jacket and top off, ready to play volleyball.

“Iceman, Slider, I thought we were here to play volleyball not to fawn over my kid.” Maverick calls over to the two as he puts his shirt and jacket on the bleachers that the bag is sitting next to.

“Don’t be jealous just because you’re not the centre of attention, Maverick.” Slider taunts as Iceman places you back on the floor, letting you run back over to Maverick who scoops you up and sits you on the bottom bleacher, next to the bag and his shirt and jacket.

“You stay right here and guard my stuff okay kiddo?” Maverick asks with a smile as Goose ruffles your hair lightly. You nod at Maverick’s words and attempt to slide Maverick’s jacket on, both of you laughing at the sheer size of it compared to you.

“It’ll fit you one day, kid.” Maverick grins, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he and Goose cross to the court to begin the match against Iceman and Slider.

At first, you watched the match diligently. You laughed when your dad and Goose would happily celebrate scoring a point with a double high-five. Your attention slowly slipped away from the match and onto your dad’s jacket you since had taken off, tracing the images on the patches until something fluttered past you, tearing your attention away from the jacket completely. You see a small bird staring at you, head tilting as it flicks its tail. Entranced by the bird you hopped off the seat and walked towards it. The bird fluttered away slightly before landing back on the ground again, turning back to face you and flicking its tail once more, seemingly instigating a game of cat and mouse. You continue to follow the bird, giggling as it flies a few meters away and yet still turns to see if you are following it. After a while, you and the bird came to a standstill, staring at each other and as you waved at it, the bird hopped a little closer to you, inspecting you curiously as it chirped, flicked its tail once more and then finally took off into the sky. You watched it fly high into the sky, waving goodbye at it as it joined its fellow birds who soared in the sky with it. When you finally tore your eyes away from the birds in the sky, you looked around you and had a sudden and horrible realisation that you had no idea where you were, or where your dad was.

Back at the volleyball court, the aviators had just wrapped up their match, with Iceman and Slider securing a strong victory as they celebrated loudly. Maverick had grumbled about how he was going to beat Iceman and win the Top Gun trophy to prove that this volleyball match meant nothing. When he approached the bleacher to grab his shirt and jacket so he could go to the beach with you and Goose where you’d meet with Carole and Bradley. When he reached the bleacher, he noticed that you were nowhere to be seen. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked around as he pulled on his shirt and tugged his jacket on, the panic in his eyes hidden by his aviators.

“Goose, have you seen y/n?” Maverick says when he senses the presence of his RIO, turning to face him. Maverick’s worry only increases when Goose shakes his head.

“Last time I saw her you sat her here before the match.” Goose’s response made Maverick’s breath hitch in his throat. He felt panic rising within him as he looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere. Having heard Maverick’s panicked breaths, Goose placed his hands on his pilot's shoulders, getting Maverick’s focus on him.

“Mav, we’re going to find her, okay? She can’t have gotten far. We’ll find her.” Goose said reassuringly. As a father, Goose understood Maverick’s panic. There was one time Goose lost sight of Bradley in a store and Goose nearly had an aneurysm thinking someone had taken him. Thankfully, he found Bradley in the sweet aisle, his little hands grabbing at as many colourful packets as he could. Goose had never felt a relief quite like finding Bradley again and he scooped his son up in his arms and held him tight, instructing him to never do that again. Iceman and Slider, noticing the panic between Maverick and Goose, came jogging over to the two after throwing their shirts on.

“What’s going on?” Iceman asks, eyebrow raised as he glances between Goose and Maverick as he tries to assess the situation.

“We can’t find y/n.” Goose says, hardly removing his focus from Maverick so he could focus on keeping Maverick from hyperventilating. At Goose’s words, Iceman and Slider exchanged a worried look before turning back to Goose.

“Come on Slider. We’ll look around for her.” Iceman says to Goose who nods quickly before resuming his focus on Maverick. The pilot and RIO duo take off in a random direction, calling your name and looking around for you or anyone who might’ve seen you. Meanwhile, Goose was still focusing on keeping Maverick with a clear head so he could focus on finding his daughter.

“Deep breaths, Mav. We can ask around while Ice and Slider look for her.” Goose says as Maverick takes his aviators off, wiping at his eyes fiercely.

“What if someone took her? Or she gets hurt? I can’t lose my little girl, Goose.” Maverick says worriedly, more tears working their way down his cheeks.

“We’ll find her. Come on, let’s ask around and see if anyone has seen what direction she went off in.” Goose says with a gentle smile, encouraging Maverick to follow him so the pair could ask fellow navy personnel if they had seen where you might’ve gone.

You were still confused and lost. You hadn’t moved from where you realised you were lost, too scared to move so you stayed put, bawling your eyes out as you hoped your dad would find you. There was no one around to help you. In your fear, you sat on the floor, not knowing what else to do other than cry.

“y/n! y/n, where are y-” Iceman cut himself off when you came into his line of sight. Your head shot up at hearing Iceman’s voice, but your cries didn’t slow.

“Ice!” You managed to cry out as the blond pilot ran over to you, kneeling down and assessing you for any injuries before you threw yourself into his arms, tears pouring down your face.

“Slider, go and get Maverick, now.” Iceman instructs his RIO as you bury your face in his shoulder. Slider nods and without hesitation turns to run back in the direction of the volleyball court to track down Maverick.

“I want my daddy.” You whimper into Iceman’s shoulder as he moves to hug you.

“I know sweetheart. Slider’s gone to find your dad, okay? They’ll be here soon.” Iceman whispers reassuringly, glancing around as if that would bring Maverick to you quicker. You hadn’t wandered massively far from the court, but Iceman understood that what is a simple path to him would not be the same to a three-year-old. After a couple of minutes of Iceman whispering words of reassurance and promising you that your dad is coming, Maverick appears with Goose and Slider hot on his heels.

“Daddy!” You cry out when you see Maverick, quickly wiggling out of Iceman’s arms and into Maverick’s as he bends down to pick you up, setting you on his hip as you cry against his shoulder. Maverick allowed tears of his own to fall as he let out a shuddering breath of relief when he felt your tiny arms wind around his neck.

“I got you; y/n/n. Daddy’s got you.” Maverick whispered as he pressed repeated kisses to your temple as you cried, clinging to him. Maverick’s free hand came up to rest on the back of your head, running a hand through your hair as you sobbed in relief.

“I was scared.” You whine, making Maverick’s heart break as more tears roll down his cheeks at your words.

“I know sweetheart. But I’m right here. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” Maverick assures, squeezing you tighter before pressing more kisses to the side of your head. Just as Iceman and Slider went to leave, Maverick turned to face them.

“Thank you.” Maverick says to the two who nod their heads in acknowledgement at his words.

“No worries, Mitchell.” Iceman says, the two men now seeing each other in a whole new light. Iceman was now seeing a devoted father who would do anything for his daughter instead of the reckless and cocky aviator he saw at Top Gun. While Maverick was now seeing someone who dropped everything to look for a kid that wasn’t his and without being asked instead of seeing the man who lectured him after every training session for flying dangerously. After sharing a curt nod with Maverick; Iceman and Slider headed back to the volleyball court, leaving Maverick and Goose with you.

“I think we’re going to head home, Goose. Just let Carole and Bradley know we’ll catch up with them another day.” Maverick says to Goose who nods in understanding.

“No! I wanna see Brad!” You exclaim tearily when you hear what your dad says, pulling away to look your dad in the eye. Maverick raised an eyebrow curiously while he lifted a hand to wipe your tears away.

“We don’t have to go to the beach sweetheart.” Maverick says, worried that you’d either wander off again or felt you had to go just because Bradley was going too.

“I wanna see Brad and Auntie Carole.” You whine, burying your face in the crook of your dad’s neck as he looks over at Goose who shrugs.

“Your call, Mav.” Goose says, not wanting to intervene. Maverick turned his head to look at you as you pulled away again, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could as Maverick cursed internally. He could never say no to your puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, we’ll go to the beach with the others. But you are to stay in my sight at all times.” Maverick instructs, his expression conveying every ounce of seriousness that he could as you nod, understanding every word he said clearly. Maverick glances over at Goose and gestures for them to head back to the volleyball court to gather up the beach stuff before heading down to the beach. You refuse to let your dad put you down so Goose takes the bag and the three of you begin the short walk to the beach. When you reach the beach, Goose crosses to his wife quickly and captures her in a sweet kiss before sweeping Bradley up into a hug. Just as Goose puts Bradley down, he quietly explains to Carole what had happened earlier and she felt her heart break for the Mitchell’s knowing how terrifying the thought of losing a child was. Carole immediately moved to speak to Maverick as he attempts to lay out a beach towel while keeping you in his arms.

“Hey Mav, how’s she doing?” Carole asks sweetly as she helps Maverick lie out the towel and smiling at you as you wave at her.

“She’s pretty shaken up. I also feel like I gotta buy Ice’s drinks for the rest of his life for finding her.” Maverick admits with a slight chuckle as he moves to carefully sit down, freeing one of his hands to ease himself down.

“She’s not hurt physically either, thank god.” Maverick says as you settle yourself into his lap, your once teary eyes lighting up when you see Bradley come running over. Goose sets down another towel alongside Maverick’s and sits down on it, opening his arms and gesturing for Carole to sit in between his legs which she does with a laugh, snuggling back into his chest. Once Bradley has dropped his toys on his parent’s towel he launched at you for a hug, pushing you into Maverick as he dramatically fell onto his back, causing a pile of children on his chest as he wraps his arms around the both of you.

“Uncle Mav! y/n!” Bradley giggles, wrapping his arms around you in a hug you reciprocate a bright grin covering your face.

“Hey, kiddo.” Maverick says, ruffling Bradley’s hair as he swats at his hand, protesting loudly as you giggle. When Bradley finally clambers off, Maverick sits up, adjusting you so you’re sat in his lap once more as Bradley rushes to his parents, his little hands digging through Carole’s beach bag to find his bucket and spade.

“y/n, do you want to build a sandcastle with me?” Bradley asks, his eyes shining with glee as he grins at you. At first, you don’t respond, wrapping your arms around Maverick and cuddling into him.

“Oh, y/n might not be in the mood to build sandcastles right now, buddy.” Goose says, noticing your reaction and looking over at his son who looks between you and his dad curiously.

“Why not?” The five-year-old enquires, not understanding why you didn’t want to join in on building sandcastles.

“She’s just a bit tired, sweetheart. But you can build sandcastles if you want.” Carole says, smiling sweetly at her son.

“But it’s no fun without y/n.” Bradley whines, his bottom lip jutting out as he complains.

“Bradley, come on buddy, you have plenty of time to build sandcastles with y/n another day.” Goose says, trying to lighten his son’s dampening mood. Noticing Bradley insist that building sandcastles is better with you, you feel more in the mood to build sandcastles with Bradley. But you were also terrified to be out of your dad’s arms in fear he’d disappear and you’d be alone again. Maverick noticed you looking at Bradley and loosening your grip on him so he looked down at you with a gentle smile.

“You want to play with Bradley, sweetheart?” He asks, giving you the freedom to decide whether you wanted to or not.

“Yes, but I don’t want to be far away from you.” You admit, looking down at the towel and Maverick’s face softens as he moves to hook a finger under your chin to lift it so you’d look at him.

“I got an idea.” Maverick says with a small smirk. He shuffles forward on the towel until he’s right at the end of the towel, barely sitting on the towel. He then stands you on the sand, still holding your hand as he reaches his spare hand back to the bag to dig out your bucket and spade, handing them to you with a smile.

“Okay, take two steps forward.” He says and you do as he asks, looking back at him after each step to check he’s still there and to your relief he is, grinning at you.

“There we go! You’re doing so well! Now, hold your hand out towards me.” Maverick then instructs gently, waiting for you to do as he asked and when you do, he reaches out and takes your hand in his.

“See that? If you feel worried while you’re building your sandcastles you can just reach for me and I’ll grab your hand, yeah? But if it feels like too much you can always come and just cuddle and chill out with me.” Maverick says, making sure you know you have options as he speaks and to his joy, you nod and immediately kneel down in the sand with Bradley and begin making sandcastles.

“You’re good with her Mav.” Carole says with a smile as the parents watch their kids playing in the sand.

“This was a win-win for us. She didn’t want to be too far away from me and I wanted her in my sight. It seemed like the best solution.” Maverick shrugs as if what he did wasn’t a big deal, barely glancing Carole’s way as he focuses his attention on his daughter, waiting to see if you reach out for him. Every time you looked over at him to make sure he was still there, he was sure to send you an encouraging smile and took your hand whenever you asked for it. But mostly you were kept occupied by Bradley, the two of you building rows of sandcastles and decorating them as you happily chat with each other.

“Twenty bucks says these two get married when they’re older.”

“GOOSE!”

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun fic #top gun 1986 #pete maverick mitchell #maverick #pete mitchell #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x y/n #pete mitchell x daughter reader #maverick x reader #maverick x daughter!reader #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell x daughter!reader #pete 'maverick' mitchell #pete 'maverick' mitchell x reader #pete 'maverick' mitchell x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader

[rayslittlekitten]

Grumpy Old Man

A/N: Okay, so this is my first little Joel Miller fic. This was inspired by episode 3 +5. Just a fluffy little thing. Hope you enjoy!

Rating: G

Word Count: 974

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN! Reader

Plot: Your partnership with Joel evolves.

Warnings: None

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Joel not grumpy. It’s his norm. You can’t tell if it’s an old man thing or he’s just always been perpetually acutely miserable even before you met him. Either way, you find it adorable. And when you tell him that, the corners of his mouth dip down even more and at that point, you don’t know if he’s flirting with you or just emphasizing his discontent.

Joel is not an affectionate man and doesn’t really say or share much. You’ve tried to talk him to open up, but he quickly shuts down the conversation as soon as it gets too personal. You never really know what he’s thinking, but you always notice the little thoughtful things he does for you. Aside from protecting you, making sure you’re fed and have a safe space, he also has his own language of letting you know he cares in other ways.

You notice he usually gives you a bigger portion of food, especially if it’s something you like. Food is hard to come by so you always feel bad when he does that, but you would feign you've had enough to eat so you let him have the rest.

Every now and then when you both go scavenging, if he finds something he knows you'll appreciate, he'll throw it in his bag and gift it to you at a later time even though he's always told you to only take what's useful because you should travel light. To him, anything useless regardless of how small it was, was just wasting precious space.

Says the man who found a stash of worn out Archie comic books, which you once mentioned you enjoyed reading growing up, and quietly shoved them into your backpack when you weren’t looking, probably while you were asleep when he kept watch. He doesn't feel an obligation to you nor distrust you, but for his peace of mind, there are some nights he feels safer keeping an eye open.

Another time, you had found your worn down boots replaced with a newer pair.  Joel apparently found a decent pair your size and swapped them out with the ones you've been trekking everywhere with for a while. The rubber soles were thinning and the one was only staying on the bottom of the shoe because of duct tape. When you made a joke about them not being your favorite color, he said he had checked and that was the only option.

You thank him every time for the small gestures, but he always just grunts and brushes them off or changes the subject. The man of a few words sure says a lot through his actions and tonight is no different.

The temperature had dropped drastically and there wasn't much to keep warm except for two dinky little sleeping bags. A fire was out of the question, not wanting to draw any attention. Joel didn't seem so keen on the idea at first, but he had suggested to use each other’s body heat to stay warm. This is the first time the two of you have ever been so physically close together, aside from that one time he pinned your body against a concrete wall and clamped his hand over your mouth to quiet you to avoid being caught by FEDRA when a trade between your crew and his went sour because you all were at the wrong place at the wrong time. FEDRA had raided the abandoned, decrepit building that was once an elementary school and everyone scattered and ran, but you and Joel were the only ones who escaped as far as you both knew. Joel doesn't take on strays, but having already been acquainted, the two of you stuck together ever since to increase your chances of survival.

It was a bit awkward at first, as the both of you have always remained platonic and only saw each other as allies but you'd be lying if you said there isn't some tension between you two. The more time you spent with him, the more you started looking at him differently, and sometimes you think he senses a change as well, but it's hard to read Mr. McMoodypants.  Whether it's human nature, convenience, or just having no one else but each other, this partnership seems to be breaching companionship.

You're both snug inside a large sleeping bag that he merged together with the two. Your backs are right up against one another which seems silly since it defeats the purpose of keeping each other warm, but he could still be crabby about that comment you made about him being adorably grumpy. Trying to get into a more comfortable position, you turn over and curl up behind him. You rest your hand on his waist and feel him stiffen underneath it for a second. After a few seconds, you feel him grab your hand to bring it up to his chest. His fingers interlace with yours and you press yourself closer to him, basking in the warmth his back is radiating. You can feel his heart slowly beating beneath his cozy flannel.

"Who knew the grumpy old man has a warm heart," you joke.

Joel lets out a deep sigh and ignores you.

After a few quiet moments, you check to see if he's still awake.

"Joel?"

"You're a few words away from getting kicked out of this sleeping bag so choose your next words wisely," he responds, staying in the same position.

You can't help but smirk. He's as grumpy as he gets.

"Good night." You strain your neck to give enough reach to boldly plant a kiss on his cheek before finally settling in.

A few seconds later, Joel surprisingly brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your fingers, his beard tickling you.

"Good night." 

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x gn!reader #gn!reader #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal

[anyasathenaeum]

Hello! I feel like I might have already requested this before your ask box was wiped, but how about a virgin!Knives x Reader smutfic?? I love how you characterized him as shy and flustered over the idea of sex in that one crackfic you wrote 😵 I hope you have a great day and life is treating you well!! You're one of my favorite writers regardless of what you write :D

A/N: Hey anon! Yes, I remember this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to it, but here it is! This is my first (serious) attempt at smut with Knives, so uhhhhhhhhh please don't come for me, I tried my best. I've decided to start with some headcanons followed by the fic itself, apologies - it's long. Also, anon - thank you SO much for your comment, you're super sweet and I'm sorry I took so long to get to this. All the best! Warnings: MINORS DNI, Virgin!Knives, AFAB!reader (female terminology is used), hinting towards plants having "heats", a touch of yandere-ish behaviour (it's Knives, so not entirely surprising) penetrative sex, P in V sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), reader is submissive in this one, rough sex, marking, a little bit of a breeding kink, Knives being a Loser™, he's kinda in love with you but the fucker definitely refuses to admit it, name-calling (Knives calls reader things like "slut" and such) Word Count: 3.3k

Virgin!Knives is definitely not nearly as confident and as ruthless as he is in all other points of his life - he might seem like he knows what he's doing, but deep down? Man is SHY, but he'd rather die than have anybody realize that

Seriously, you won't ever hear him talking about sex, and he doesn't even use the word if he can afford to outside of the bedroom

When it comes to his first time, he likes to make it seem like he's in charge and like he fucks all the time, but he's literally just a hair breadth away from cumming the moment you touch him for the first time.

Would absolutely make you ride him (mostly because he has no idea what he's doing), but he plays it off with cool indifference and because he "just wants you to please him".

He tries to make up for it, trying to be more forceful or rough with his thrusts, talking dirty to you and calling you names, but it's a double-edged sword because the moment you're crying out his name and squeezing around him, he sees stars and cums WAY too soon.

Basically, Virgin!Knives is a mess and wants to seem like he's still in charge in bed, but with a few thrusts of your own, driving him deeper and deeper into you, you'd have him falling apart beneath you in moments.

But, of course, because he's not human, his stamina is INSANE and the moment he cums for the first time inside you, it unhinges him (do I sense a breeding kink???) and suddenly he's chasing orgasm after orgasm using you, and you're definitely not gonna be leaving his bed for the next few days.

Full fic below! Enjoy!

"Are you sure this is what you want, Master Knives?"

The question slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. You just couldn't believe what you were hearing.

Millions Knives, the independent plant who you'd been working for for years, had had you brought to his chambers in the middle of the night so that he could ask you something important.

"Are you questioning me, pet?"

The way Knives glared at you, his gaze cold and calculated, made shivers course down your spine, and you quickly bowed your head.

"No, Master Knives. Not at all. I was merely surprised by your request. I apologize."

Knives simply raised his eyebrow as he continued to gaze at you, taking in your form as you stood before him. You'd initially been just some filthy human he was forced to keep around due to your utility and your skills, but over time, as much as Knives refused to admit to it, you'd grown on him. You were one of the more intelligent of your species, it seemed, and one that seemed to know its place whenever you spoke to him. But, in the end, you were still just a lowly, miserable human, part of the plague that threatened Plants across the planet.

So... why?

Why did Knives feel this... pull towards you? Why did he have to fight the urge to be near you each and every time he spotted you, the urge to tuck you against him with his wing and whisk you away, out of sight and out of reach of all others? Why did he feel rage boiling up within him whenever you smiled or laughed at something somebody else had said? A fair share of other henchmen had lost lives and limbs just for speaking to you (not that you knew that, of course - they just conveniently "disappeared" during a mission).

Beyond just those moments, Knives had also noticed... other things. A warmth that seemed to bloom from whatever part of him had brushed your skin, spreading through the rest of his body until it became full blown heat. This heat was unbearable to resist and made him feel as though it were burning him alive from the inside out, unquenchable even when he took matters into his own hands time and time again.

Knives wasn't a fool. He knew of the lust and the need to reproduce that his kind often felt, but he'd never experienced it himself ever before. Not until you showed up. But, you were part of the very thing Knives had sworn to destroy, so why did his body call to you in this way? Why did his body betray him so? What was it about you that made him feel this way?

"You heard me, (Y/N)," Knives spoke slowly and quietly, his gaze not leaving you for a moment as he lounged on his bed, "I wish for you to stay the night."

"Yes, Master Knives."

"You will not speak of this to anybody," he continued, his voice scarily level, "Or I shall ensure you are permanently silenced."

You simply bowed your head again, your heart pounding frantically in your chest.

You had always had an interest in Knives - asides from being somebody who was hired to work from him, you found him a truly interesting being. An independent plant, more beautiful than any living creature you'd ever seen before, hellbent on exterminating the human race to save his sister plants and trying to find his twin brother, another independent plant. He was always transparent of his end goal, and despite it all, you had still agreed to work for him. After all, humanity was a mess and it wasn't going to get any better - you'd seen proof of that time and time again throughout your life.

So, here you were - working tirelessly so he could achieve his goal.

Although, you hadn't expected to be summoned to Knives's chambers so late in the night, and you certainly hadn't anticipated him to wish for you to stay the night. You'd been summoned to his chambers several times in the past, sometimes for work purposes, other times simply on a whim, and you weren't ignorant of the way you felt around Knives.

His presence made you feel simultaneously safe and on edge, as if something was always just about to occur. As though there were always words hanging in the air between you two, just waiting to be spoken but never truly acknowledged.

Despite his reputation of being unforgiving and ruthless, you'd never been on the receiving end of that side of him, somehow. He could be harsh and sharp with his words and his actions, but he'd never caused you any true harm. You couldn't ignore the way your skin felt as though electricity coursed through it whenever Knives accidentally brushed against you, or the way the heat rose to your cheeks whenever you found him watching you intently. He never looked away immediately whenever you caught him staring at you, simply maintaining his gaze and ensuring to keep eye contact with you for a couple moments before looking away almost lazily, as if he'd grown bored of you. But the fact that he did it so often... could it mean?...

You didn't dare let yourself hope. It couldn't possibly mean anything. After all, you were just a human. Unworthy of him in every possible way.

And yet, here you were, summoned to his chambers in the middle of the night and told you were to stay with him overnight. Your mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out what this meant.

"W-Where am I to sleep, Master Knives?" You inquired softly, not daring to look up at him.

Knives would've scoffed and laughed had it been any other person standing before him, but this was you. His pet, of sorts. And as much as he refused to accept it, you softened him. You weakened him.

"We'll address that later, pet. Come here."

Before you could process everything, you found yourself approaching Knives's bed, stopping right before it and waiting for his commands, not wanting to overstep.

"Did I not make myself clear? Here, pet," Knives all but hissed, making it clear he wanted you right on the bed next to him.

Blushing slightly, you quickly followed his demand, crawling into his bed so you were right by his side. You could feel his gaze on you, and you risked a glimpse at his face - his expression was surprisingly calm, almost curious as he studied you as you sat there next to him on his bed.

"Don't move," Knives whispered quietly, bringing his hand up to your face.

Immediately, you froze, almost afraid to breathe.

"So obedient," you heard Knives chuckle, clearly amused, "What a good pet I have."

Without further comments, you felt Knives's fingers beginning to trace over your skin, skimming lightly over your cheeks and making his way over the bridge of your nose, then down over your lips. His touch was surprisingly gentle, more gentle than you ever thought him capable, but you remained silent as he continued his barely-there touches.

You struggled to ignore the beating of your heart and the roaring of your blood in your ears, your whole body feeling like a livewire. You had to remind yourself not to let your mind wander and make your hidden desires obvious, but something in the way Knives was watching you made you believe that he already knew of your hidden desires. You felt your face heating up even worse than before as you looked away from Knives, suddenly finding the threading of the bedding very interesting.

"I don't understand you."

Knives's sudden voice startled you, making you jump slightly as you sat there next to him. However, you remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"Look at me, (Y/N)."

Slowly, you brought your gaze up to look at Knives, trying not to let your heart beat straight out of your chest as you did so. His icy blue gaze was steady as it trained on your face, still studying you even intently.

"What do you not understand about me?" You asked quietly, steeling yourself as you held Knives's gaze.

After a couple moments, Knives replied quietly, "I don't understand what it is about you that makes my body feel this way. How you, a mere human... are the only one who has the ability to set my soul and my body aflame. I get no rest because of you."

You felt your heart stop for a moment before it began to thunder violently in your chest, your eyes widening in surprise. There was no way that he meant what you thought he meant.

"Master Knives, I-"

"Nai."

You looked at him curiously, and Knives simply continued, "In here, I'm not Master Knives. My name is Nai. You use my name, here and only here."

"Yes, Nai," you replied softly, testing out his name on your tongue.

"I think you know why I've summoned you to stay the night, now. Don't you, (Y/N)?"

You nodded, making Nai smirk slightly, "Clever pet."

Without a second of hesitation, you felt Nai's hand cup the back of your neck, pulling you down against him and slotting his lips to yours in a passionate, lustful kiss.

You let out a small, muffled yelp as you fell forward onto him, your lips pressing against his and your eyes wide in surprise. His taste was surprisingly bright, and you found yourself melting into the kiss, eyes closing and matching his passion in the kiss within moments. You felt Nai's hands burying themselves into your hair as he pulled you on top of him, holding you close to him as he continued to kiss you lustfully, his desire for you overwhelming his typically-controlled self.

Despite the kiss being lustful and filled with desire, you found that Nai's kiss still felt as though he were holding something back. Was it simply due to him not being as invested as you believed him to be? Or was it for some other reason? Regardless, you found your hands coming up to cup Nai's face gently as you continued to kiss him, his hands resting firmly on your hips and holding you in place.

You could feel Nai's hands pressing your hips down hard against him, and underneath his robe and through your clothes, you could feel something hard rubbing against your core. A wanton moan escaped you as Nai continued to force you down onto him, getting you to grind on him as his hands guided your hips. You could feel your pussy beginning to soak through your panties, and your whole body shuddered as Nai pulled away from you, a string of spit connecting your lips together.

You watched as Nai's knives suddenly appeared from him, slowly approaching you. Your eyes widened in fear, and you tried to figure out what you'd done wrong, your whole body freezing and your blood turning to ice. However, the blades of the knives didn't touch your skin, instead the tentacles slowly working their way under your clothing, cutting piece by piece loose and letting the scraps of fabric fall from your body. The tentacles of knives glided across your skin almost tenderly, continuing their work diligently until you found yourself completely naked in Nai's bed, your clothing nothing more than strips of fabric now.

"Worry not, pet. You'll get new clothes," Nai spoke quietly, his eyes eagerly taking in your naked form.

Nai could feel himself getting riled up the moment he laid eyes on your bare skin, his cock hardening beneath his robe as he took in every part of you. You were beautiful, he supposed, for a human.

As he gazed at you, Nai couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like for him to finally take you, to stake him claim on you and to feel you around him for the first time. Of course, he'd never let you know that he'd never done any of this before, instead maintaining his façade of cool indifference and superiority, as if he'd done this so many times that it almost bored him.

Reaching out towards you, Nai pulled you back on top of him, his robe dissipating and allowing you to finally see him, his cock rock hard and throbbing, a glob of pre-cum leaking from the tip. You could see that the same plant markings that sprawled across the rest of his body were also on the shaft of his cock, as well as his tip. Just the sight of him, laid out before and below you like this and clearly wanting you, had your pussy dripping wet. You couldn't believe just how badly you wanted him inside you.

"Well? Go on, pet," Nai commanded, watching you carefully, "Please me."

"Yes, Nai."

You couldn't believe this was happening, but you found yourself feeling excited by the fact that you actually got the opportunity to sleep with Nai. As much as you wished that it could've been more than just sex, you were happy to have this, at the very least.

Slowly, you settled yourself in his lap, your hand wrapping gently around his cock and aligning him with your pussy, letting the tip just barely rest against your entrance. You were surprised to hear Nai hiss as soon as you took hold of him, feeling his body tense and feeling something warm and wet dribbling over your fingers.

"A-Are you okay?" You asked softly, looking at Nai with slight concern, hoping you hadn't hurt him or made him uncomfortable.

"Fine," Nai gritted out, "Don't question me. Remember your place, pet."

Then, suddenly, you felt Nai's hands tighten on your hips, grabbing onto you firmly before pushing you down onto his cock hard.

You let out a cry at the sudden stretch, your pussy stinging at the feeling of being split open so deeply for the first time in a long while, trying to adjust to the feeling of Nai inside you. With him sheathed inside you, you could feel just how big he was - even without moving, he was pressing against the most perfect spot inside you, pulling a whine from your lips.

"Quiet, slut," Nai growled, his hold on your hips bruising your skin as his fingers dug into your flesh.

What you didn't know was that Nai was struggling worse than you were at the moment - he'd never felt such warmth and tightness before, especially not around his cock, and he was trying so hard not to cum then and there. He hadn't expected you to feel so good around him, or for his body to be this sensitive.

However, as he held you against him, you let out a soft whine of pleasure and began to roll your hips desperately, pushing him just the slightest bit deeper into you. Nai's grip tightened on you, and he was about to growl out another command when his orgasm suddenly washed over him.

A choked "Fuck!" slipped from his lips as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into you, wanting nothing more than to bury himself into you even more than before as his seed coated your walls, painting them in white and claiming you as his in a way nobody ever really had before. You let out a moan and clutched onto Nai's shoulders as you felt the warmth spreading within your abdomen, and you couldn't help but continue to roll your hips as you chased your own release, wanting to feel more of Nai inside you.

"N-Nai, please," you whined, continuing to thrust your hips against him, "Want more... need more of you... please..."

Hearing you plead for him, for his cock, to give you pleasure made something in Nai snap.

In a flash, you found yourself laying back in the bed with Nai above you, his cock still buried inside you and still hard as ever. However, now, you could see a fire in his eyes as he gazed at you, his hand coming up and squeezing your breast. The mewl that came from you as Nai touched you made him feel more powerful than ever before, his instincts beginning to take over.

Leaning down and pressing his lips against yours hungrily, Nai began to thrust into you with urgency, his thrusts powerful and deep, pulling moan after moan from you as he continued to fuck you into his bed. He couldn't care less that this was his first time - nothing else mattered right now except for cumming inside you over and over again until you knew nothing but his name and that you belonged to him. He allowed his instincts to take over, the instinct to claim, to mate, to breed, to fill you up until it spilled from you endlessly.

"You're mine, slut. You hear me? Mine."

The growl that came from Nai made your whole body shiver, and the way he sunk his teeth into your neck and left a dark bruise to show that fact to the world made you scream out, partly from pain and partly from pleasure. You were his now, and nobody else would ever have you.

"Say it!" Nai commanded, thrusting into you harshly without stopping. "Say-" thrust "you-" thrust "are-" thrust "mine!".

"Y-Yours!" You cried out, feeling your own orgasm wash over you stronger than ever before as Nai continued to fuck you through it, "'M yours, Nai!"

"Mine!"

Nai slammed his cock into you one final time as he came yet again, filling you to the brim with cum once more. As he recovered from his orgasm, Nai continued to leave marks down your neck, your shoulders, your breasts, working his way down until he was ready to go again, wanting nothing more than to continue this until he could no longer stand it.

"Prepare yourself, (Y/N)," Nai growled into your ear, pulling your body against his hard, "You're to stay with me all night. And I'm nowhere near done."

#anya's athenaeum #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #trigun smut #knives x reader #millions knives trigun #knives smut #millions knives #millions knives x reader #nai x reader #nai trigun #nai x reader smut #millions knives smut

[hyperfixatedonthisnow]

You Belong to Me

*Not my GIF

This is the first thing I’ve written in years but Shadow and Bone (and particularly Nikolai Lantsov!) is my new hyperfixation and I had the urge to write something, so here we are. Based on the prompt: “Mine.” “Say it again.” which I got from tumblr forever ago.

Summary: Reader is in an established relationship with Nikolai and they get jealous seeing someone else flirting with him so they decide to remind him who he belongs to. Turns out the King finds jealous/possessive reader a turn on, who would have guessed?

Word count: 2K

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. A tiny hint of a plot but really it’s just smut, hand job, jealousy/possessiveness, slight praise kink if you squint, reader can be any gender you like, I’ve left it deliberately vague for your reading pleasure :)

The grand ballroom was so full that you could barely move an inch without bumping into a visiting noble, courtier or ambassador of some sort. Musicians were playing at one end of the room and waiters flitted about with trays of champagne.

You scanned the crowd in an effort to locate the King. Your eyes found him finally near of the centre of the room, surrounded by young ladies and you sighed, because of course he was. You had only left Nikolai’s side for a few minutes, but that was all it took for the vultures to descend. You supposed you couldn’t really blame them, he was gorgeous. Intelligent and charming too. Wherever he went, people were drawn to him like moths to the proverbial flame. Your relationship with the King had started many years before, when he was just a wayward second son with little hope of ever inheriting the throne and though his circumstances had now changed, your love for each other remained stronger than ever. Nikolai could be a bit of a flirt, but you trusted him implicitly. You knew without a doubt that anyone trying to tempt him would fail. He would be going home with you, still that didn’t stop the surge of jealousy that burned uncomfortably in your stomach as you made your way across the room to join the group. Nikolai’s eyes lit up as he saw you approach and he reached for you immediately, wrapping his arm around your waist without even the slightest hint of hesitation. You watched with a perverse sense of satisfaction as obvious disappointment flitted over the faces of his companions and several of the ladies politely excused themselves, quickly losing interest now they knew for certain that the King was taken. The last young lady however, was not so easily deterred. She looked you up and down with barely concealed distaste as Nikolai made the formal introductions and then finally she offered you a saccharine smile - entirely for his benefit you assumed, since it was obvious that it pained her to do so. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said, smiling brightly. You would be nice if it killed you. It would only cause problems for Nikolai if you went around being rude to his guests, regardless of wether they deserved it or not. The other woman made no response, already turning her attention back to the King as if you hadn’t even spoken. Apparently she didn’t share your concerns about rudeness. Nikolai cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence, “Miss Antonova was just telling me about her home in Kerch.” “Oh yes,” Miss Antonova exclaimed, twirling a lock of her dark hair around her finger, “As I was saying, you must come for a visit, your highness. I know my father would be honored to host you.” “What a generous offer,” Nikolai smiled, “perhaps we may take you up on it someday.” The young woman beamed at him, pleased with his response. “We could make it one of the stops on our honeymoon,” you suggested, just to watch her face fall. “Absolutely not. I should not consider our honeymoon a success if we are to be fit for company at any point,” Nikolai grinned impishly and you shook your head fondly, a blush spreading across your cheeks at the implication. You could feel Miss Antonova glaring daggers at you. “Well, perhaps you could make the trip to Kerch on your own instead, moi tsar,” she simpered, batting her eyelashes at him, “I would be happy to volunteer as your personal guide.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "I bet you would,” you muttered quietly under your breath, though not quietly enough if Nikolai’s sudden coughing fit was any indicator. Miss Antinova moved closer to him, her face creased in concern, “Goodness, are you alright?” She asked, laying a hand on his arm. You glared at her, touching the King was in no way appropriate. Nikolai gave you a look, shaking his head minutely - a gesture you knew to mean leave it alone. So you bit your tongue even though you wanted to tell her off. “Yes, I’m quite well,” Nikolai assured her once he had recovered, “My apologies.” Despite his reassurance, and the heat of your still disapproving glare, she did not move away or remove her hand. Instead, she moved further into his personal space, close enough to be considered indecent in your opinion. Her delicate hand curled around his clothed bicep. You struggled to fix a polite smile on your face when in your head you were fantasizing about breaking her fingers one by one. “Oh my, you have very strong arms,” she gushed and this time you did roll your eyes. For Saints sake. Nikolai met your gaze over the top of her head and you saw amusement dancing in his eyes. “I work out from time to time,” he told her with a wink, “It’s important to keep my army training up to date.” Miss Antonova giggled girlishly, as if he had said something ridiculously funny, and you decided that was quite enough. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to excuse us,” you stated bluntly, “the King has an urgent, private matter to attend to immediately.” Rather than wait for a response, you turned and firmly grasping Nikolai’s hand, pulled him away and across the crowded room towards the door. Although he could easily have escaped your hold if he had wanted to, Nikolai followed you without complaint, allowing you to lead him out of the ballroom and through the Palace hallways as though he were a boy rather than the King. Entering his chambers you made sure to lock the door behind you and then you stalked towards him, forcing him backwards until his back hit the wall behind him. “Something wrong, my love?” He asked, an amused little smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “The audacity of that woman,” you grumbled, “Mooning and flirting, and touching you! As if I wasn’t standing right there.” “Oh, I don’t know,” he mused, eyes sparkling with affectionate humor, “I thought she was just being friendly.” “Friendly? She was all over you!” you objected. “Maybe a little bit,” he conceded with a slight tilt of his head, his smirk widening. “But you know that I would never accept her advances, or anyone’s for that matter,” he insisted earnestly as he reached out to tuck a loose lock of hair behind your ear, “So what does it matter?” “I didn’t like it, Kolya,” you muttered irritably, yanking at the knot of his cravat in an effort to remove it and almost choking him in the process. “Really?” he chuckled, “I hadn’t noticed.” He batted your hands away so he could loosen the offending item himself, pulling it free of his collar and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as he went. You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s not funny.” He hummed in agreement as he dipped his head to kiss you, slow and sweet, just a soft brush of his lips over yours, but your were in no mood for romance. You nipped at his bottom lip impatiently, licking hot and demanding into his mouth when he opened up to you. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as you threaded your fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily and sucking on his tongue before you surfaced for air. You kissed an open-mouthed line across his jaw and down his throat, pausing to nip and suck at his pulse point. “Ah. Not above the collar,” he reminded you gently. You huffed, pressing yourself tighter against him and wedging a knee between both of his so that your thigh was pressed against his crotch. He was already hard and knowing it was because of you - not her - tempered your jealousy a little. Nosing down into the collar of his shirt to reach the juncture of his shoulder, you sucked a stinging bruise into his skin. His hips bucked in response. You couldn’t help but smile as you admired your handiwork, a surge of possessiveness rolling through you. “Mine,” you murmured as you laved your tongue over the offending mark. Nikolai groaned low in his throat, rutting against you more insistently. “Say it again,” he gasped. His voice was rough with arousal and you lifted your head to regard him, surprised by his reaction. You felt a heady rush of power as you looked him over. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. His lips were shiny and kiss–swollen and his face was flushed, a deep blush spreading from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest. You had barely started and he was already wrecked. “You belong to me,” you purred in his ear, nuzzling at his throat as you reached a hand between you to stroke him through his pants. He made an involuntary keening sound, his eyes slipping closed as he pushed himself into your palm. “No one else gets to touch you like this, do they?” He shook his head frantically, hips straining towards you, desperately seeking more friction. You sighed, feigning disappointment. “I can’t hear you,” you chastised, “Use your words Kolya." “No,” he breathed, “only you.” “That’s right,” you agreed, smiling against his skin.

You rewarded him by freeing him from his pants and he moaned as you used the precum that had gathered at the head of his cock to slick your palm. He laid his forehead against yours, opening his eyes so that he could follow the movement of your hand as you jerked him in a firm, fast rhythm until he was panting. When you knew he was near his peak, you lifted your head to meet his eyes. “Mine,” you whispered possessively, a seductive smile on your lips. He shuddered, his head dropping to your shoulder and his hands tightening on your waist as he came with a soft cry, thick stands of cum covering your hand and the front of his shirt. He slumped against the wall, boneless in the aftermath of his orgasm. “Well,” he said breathlessly, “that was..,” “Intense? Incredible? Life changing?” you suggested helpfully, and he snorted a laugh. “I was going to say unexpected, but those work too.”

You brought your clean hand up to his throat, running your thumb over the dark bruises you had left just below the line of his collar. "I'm afraid I've made quite a mess," you said, "I'm sorry." And you were, now that the bitter sting of jealousy had faded and you had returned to your senses.

"Don't be. I don't know if you could tell but I rather liked it," Nikolai grinned, "and besides, I've made a mess of you too, so I'd say we're even."

"I suppose that's true," you agreed, bringing your hand up to your mouth. Your tongue snaked out to gently lap the remains of his release from your fingers and he groaned, scrubbing a shaky hand across his face. “You’re trying to kill me,” he accused and you laughed as you leaned in to kiss him. Nikolai pulled you in closer, deepening the kiss but keeping it sweet and unhurried.

"Give me a moment to recover and I'll repay the favour," he promised.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai smut #shadow and bone #grishaverse #Zoya is my queen but not in this fic #i would die for this man #jealousy #possessiveness #plot what plot

[beastofburdenxo]

Tommy request where he disregards her for grace and then when the thrill of it ends he ends up regretting BUT she’s focused on helping john and reader is just so cute and caring with johns kids and john is wanting to marry her being all like “this makes sense, she and i are the same age, best friends for like YEARS now, it all fits” and Polly’s all like “cute but tommy will skin you alive” and instead of groveling tommy turns dark and is all like “you want your little shelby babies? then okay I, and only I, will give it to love” please and thank u xxx

Damn alright here we go......

Little Green Monster

After choosing Grace over you, Tommy begins to realize he messed up when you start spending time with his brother John. Tags: dark! Tommy, p in v, unprotected sex, language, multiple orgasms, slight stalking, breeding kink

Tommy chose Grace Over you And at first it really did hurt your feelings. You loved Tommy and You thought that he loved you too. Then, unexpectedly, John came into your life, and he made the pain more bearable. He needed help with all of his kids, and you had nothing else to do. The two of you grew close in time, John thinking that perhaps Tommy leaving you was a good thing. He needed a woman like you, and you were always so good and sweet to his kids.

"I think I want to marry her, Pol." John confessed to Polly. "She's just so wonderful, I don't see how Tommy could have possibly left her." Polly put down her cup of tea with a serious look on her face. "I agree John, she is lovely, but Tommy will skin you alive if he hears of your intentions. Regardless of who he chose, that little green monster will always be on his back. I do believe he regrets his decision. This whole thing will make Tommy go crazy and do something he shouldn't." John rolls his eyes, "I believe I can handle my own brother, Pol. He broke her heart! I fixed it! He can fuck right off! We are best friends, we'd be perfect married!" Tommy was in the other room and heard every word. Oh, little green monster indeed.

Tommy knew your routine and waited for you to be alone at the end of the day to say anything. He stood in the shadows outside your house, waiting for John to leave. John finally made his way home, a smirk on his face. Tommy quietly opened the door, sneaking his way in your house. "John? You forget something?" You turned around to find Tommy at your bedroom door. "Excuse you, Tommy!" Quickly wrapping yourself up in your silk robe. "What in the hell are you doing here? You can't just-" Tommy cut you off by closing the distance and pulling you into a searing kiss.

You push Tommy away with a slap. "How dare you, Tommy! I am John's girl now. You left me for Grace, so go be with her and leave me be!" Tommy grabs you and holds you up against the wall. "You know I can't do that now. You are not John's, you will always be mine and you know it. He wants to marry you and fill you up with his babies, but over my dead body, love. Deep down, you know you want my babies. You know you miss me." You can feel how hard Tommy is right now, and you will the butterflies to leave your stomach. "You know you miss me, love, especially at night. You miss me being buried inside you, clinging to me for dear life, eh? I've been the only man that could make you come, isn't that right?" Tommy purrs in your ear.

A sudden flash of anger comes across at his arrogance. "Fuck you!" Tommy just chuckles and throws you on the bed "Oh I will, love. That I will do. I've missed you so much." You try and fight him, but Tommy is much stronger, and part of you doesn't want to fight much to your disgust. His big, strong hands make their way up your legs and under your nightgown. Tommy finds what he is looking for with a pleased smile. "Well, well. Seems like you've missed me too, eh love? So wet as always for me. My good girl." He quickly undresses himself, ready to be inside you.

He pulls your legs apart and dives inside with no warning. Your back arches at the sudden intrusion. Fighting the moan that is trying to escape your mouth. Tommy growls at how well you take him. "Even your body remembers me, love. Don't you see? You are mine. All mine. Nothing compares to you, love, and I'm sorry it had to be this way. Don't fight this, sweetheart. You know it's right. I belong here. You belong underneath me." Tommy knows just how to move to get your brain to switch off. You want to say so much, but your brain won't will your mouth to move. With a particular movement of his hips, you cry out and dig your nails in his back.

"Oh, there she is, there's my girl." Tommy moans. "I know what you like, don't I? John sure as hell doesn't. Only I can get you to feel this good. Only I can get you to soak these sheets. My girl. Mine. You want shelby babies? I'll give you as many as you want. I'll keep you full and satisfied. I'll fill you till you overflow. Whenever you want it. You. Are. Mine. To. Fill." Tommy thrusts hard with every word to make his point, and the sound of his deep voice in your ear causes you to lose control and come all over him.

"Good girl. There you go. Take what you need. You've been without me too long. Well, that's over. I've got you now, don't I?" Tommy kisses you again. "Look at you all fucked out and at peace. Just how it should be. I'm gonna come so hard inside you, love. Are you ready?" All you can do is nod weakly as his confession causes you to squeeze him again. "I'll never leave you again, I promise." With one final thrust, Tommy releases inside you, the warmth causing another orgasm to escape from you. You lay there with Tommy, full and satisfied, just like he said you'd be.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #daddy

[roll-of-royces]

HC: You Come Out as FTM Trans to the LaDS

Zayne is not surprised, he saw all the warning signs years ago. You were never very feminine in your youth, and your desire to 'hang out with the boys' as 'one of the boys' might have made it a tad bit obvious (among a slew of other clues). Regardless of the fact that he knew, he said nothing. It was your discovery to make, so he let you come to it on your own.  

When you told him, awkwardly, in too few words Zayne cupped the back of your neck in his hand and kissed you. Soft, gentle, accepting. He said, "I know, we'll figure it out together."  

He launches into your transition like a pro, starting by doing a great deal of research on the subject. Zayne is the guiding light through the first steps. He asks all of the questions, figuring out what you're looking to do in regards to your medical transition. And when he knows what you want, he starts the process for you. He vets the correct doctors needed, sets up your appointments, and always goes with you.  

Zayne is happy to correct people on your pronouns, he does it on reflex, "Sir, not ma'am. His pronouns are he, him."  

You start wearing some of his clothes, a pair of underwear goes missing, then a tie. He picks up on it and all of a sudden you're being treated to a shopping spree to pick out a new wardrobe.  

He looks into affirming exercises to help you look the way you want, and does them with you when he has time.  

When/if you decide to get surgery Zayne is there through the entire recovery process, only showing his stress through sternly stating rules. "No, you can't grab that, stop trying to lift your arms. Have you taken your pain medication?"  

When you tell Xavier he takes it extraordinarily well, in the sense of he acts like nothing has changed. Except he uses the correct pronouns flawlessly, switches to more masculine compliments, and starts call you his boyfriend. 

He adjusts quickly and expects those around you to do the same. He corrects anyone who gets it wrong right away. You didn't even have to tell Jenna and the others, you showed up the next day and everyone was carefully using your new name and pronouns (all under the sharp eye of one high level Hunter).  

Xavier starts offering you clothes, the pair of pants in the back of his closet, do you want them? That shirt he forgot about, yours now. Here take my underwear, it's more comfortable. You can't tell if he's being polite or possessive.  

He's not super helpful with starting your medical transition, he's supportive, and he'll help if you ask, but otherwise he'll journey with you to your appointments, eyes closed as the doctor goes over your options.  

He starts sporting items of pride. There's a little trans flag on his desk, a pin on his uniform. You find he's joined a few online pride communities, and has been asking questions behind your back. Things like my FTM boyfriend just came out, can I still buy him flowers? Is it weird to look at my FTM bf's ass or is that affirming?  

Xavier will commit assault upon bigots, he's fast and so no one can catch him.  

He dedicates that you are now big spoon, and curls up against your chest for all naps, complaining profusely if you don't hold him or play with his hair.

You tell Rafayel about your transition over a long carefully thought out text message. Probably a sort of cowardly way to do it, but you worry. His only response is to text back, come to my studio. With trepidation you journey to his studio, and enter to find him sitting there waiting for you, a bottle of Champaign in a bucket and a cake that says, 'Congrats it's a boy'. It's one of those gender reveal cakes.  

He adjusts right away, shifting into your new name and pronouns with a bunch of new pet names thrown in. You are now muse, my lord, handsome, thief, his highness, and sweetness.  

Rafayel insists on taking you shopping, buying you an entirely new wardrobe and setting you up with a designer as well (which is overkill but he insisted).  

Rafayel has now dictated that you are the provider in everything but money. Carry me to bed, my lord. (He doesn't care that you can't actually carry him.) Sweetness, this box is too heavy. Darling, will you crush this up to make paint for me?  

You're pretty sure Rafayel's entire legal team is at your disposal, want your name changed? He's got a guy. Someone called you a slur at work, he can have them sued. And that's not even considering what he himself will do when your 'honor' is threatened. For pretending to need help all the time he punches hard.  

All of the gifts he gives you change. Instead of flowers it's a new tie. It's chocolates, designer watches and rings. He paints a self-portrait of you in a more masculine pose and light. 

When you're feeling down Rafayel points out all the things he views as masculine that you do. The shape of your jaw is masc to him, the way you walk, the way you make him feel. He's always ready to remind you that you’re the man he wants.  

#l&ds #lads #love and deepspace #lads headcanons #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #ftm reader #can you tell Zayne is my favorite

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

How do you think the events at the end of the movie would’ve played out had Miles actually gotten sent to his home universe (Earth-1610) and Gwen had also arrived there as well when she got the watch from Hobie? How different would that part of the movie be excluding the stuff that happened at Earth-42.

Honestly? That's a good question.

I initially was thinking of someone a fic response like I did with the jealous prompt I got a few days ago, but I couldn't find a way that I could align all the canon elements in the fic in a way that would give a good conclusion. Perhaps I would use that idea for a proper fic.

Regardless, the thing that I keep thinking is not on Miles or Gwen, but Miguel and his allies.

At first, naively so, I thought Miguel and the others were looking for the Spot; perhaps I just wanted to think this a bit more positively; because the idea that this grown ass man roped two other people to capture a 15 year old that wants to save his dad is...a choice.

(I swear I don't hate Miguel, he just tests my patience a lot.)

Now, for obvious reasons these would be a problem for any Ghostflower reunion because Miguel has no chill; and would not wait nicely for this young couple to settle an argument.

Where is he, though.

Not seriously, what is this?

I was thinking he would be in Visions Academy, but this doesn't look like it at first glance. The dark atmosphere and the rain is not helping this either. If anybody has an idea, I am listening, but the only clue I have is that Miguel has a gigantic red sign that says "Welcome."

(Fun fact, the first time I saw this movie i almost expected the sign to say Hell. It wouldn't make sense on a world building sense but that was what going on my mind seeing this situation.)

Riley we know was waiting in front of Miles's house.

Now, this one is not really a problem because in the scenario that they are all in the same universe, this would mean Gwen already dispatched the Meathead (the director's words, not mine;) with Miles just entering his room after that.

Considering the situation, there is a chance Gwen would either see Miles going into his apartment, or perhaps Miles realizing that Gwen is on the alley. However for the nature of this ask, we would not explore those scenarios in this post.

Here is when it gets tricky.

Jessica was following Miles' dad, which makes sense considering they are looking for Miles and he may try to go directly to his dad.

In the scenario the timing tracks exactly the same, Gwen would probably look at the window and see Miles, so she may or not realize Jeff is coming.

What would I think if Gwen got to Miles directly? That things would probably escalate rather quickly.

I think if Gwen saw Miles lying on the floor (As he did when he got home in Earth 42;) she would quickly rush to him. To which I would expect Miles to either adopt a defensive posture, or tell her to stay away.

We need to remember that as far as Miles is aware, she is still working with the organization, last time they saw each other she was attempting to capture him (Well, honestly she didn't try very hard, but it would still be betrayal for him.)

Of course, I imagine Gwen would start with either a "I'm so sorry, Miles," "I am not here to fight, I am on your side," "I know a way we avoid the canon event." Perhaps she would say a combination of all of those things, the problem is that I don't think we would have a chance because problem number 3 would arrive.

(Imagine this is Rio from 1610.)

Now, I am going to be a bit generous here, and I will imagine that Rio didn't hear Miles coming in (unlike Rio from Earth 42,) perhaps the other version of her heard Miles come in because she was picking up laundry and was close to the door.

But I am sorry, every time I try to imagine an scenario where Gwen and Miles get to met here, I can't imagine any of them being quiet enough to not make Rio realize there are people in her house. Emotions are running way too high for either of them to think about that.

In the movie, Miles was on the floor and heard Rio appear, so he had the time to get his jacket on. In this scenario? Frankly I imagine Miles and Gwen would be close to screaming so neither of them would realize of her coming by.

Now imagine you are Rio for a moment.

You all of the sudden hear your son and or/the girl he was with earlier screaming about nonsense you don't know what the heck could be about, and when you open the door you see your son and that girl in Spider suits. No idea if there is any information or pictures of Gwen's as a Spiderwoman on Earth 1610, but that's kind of a moot point when your son not only is dressed up as the current spiderman, but also is sporting these.

(Sorry I don't have a full image, I try to get ANYTHING in the movie that would give me a good visual, and no shot; I couldn't get the complete image of where I got these, and finding these was a pain and a half.)

There is a 50/50 chance that Gwen/Miles may be able to sneak a "is a costume!" lie, but all things consider this would probably make Rio realize a lot of things are making sense all of the sudden. Rio would probably rush to Miles once she sees he is this hurt and freak out, no doubt.

And if things couldn't get worse, is around this time Jeff is coming upstairs, and who came with him?

YEP.

Now, we see that Jess spies on Gwen and Miles' parents thanks a device, not sure if this is the spider thing Gwen used earlier to track the Spot, or something else; regardless, she would definitely see them there, if not hear the ruckus.

Here is the thing, would I think Jess would do something?

...Sadly, yes.

Jess has kind of a soft spot for Gwen, and while I don't think she was the best Mentor (less about what she taught Gwen and more on not being there for her enough, but that's another discussion.) Jess gave the chance to Gwen to go to 1610 in the first place, she also let her try to fix it (thought the circumstances weren't too generous,) and while we don't have a clue what she would do next, I am inclined to believe that canonically, she is not going to snitch to Miguel that Gwen went by, perhaps only mention that Miles isn't in this dimension.

Because here is the thing, she has a soft spot for Gwen, but we can see that she definitely thinks Miles is a problem; and considering she is still helping Miguel, I doubt her mind had changed much in that regard.

So while she let Gwen "go" to get Miles (though there is the chance she is just letting her go so she can track where she is going,) I doubt she would see Miles there and not do something.

Now we have Rio screaming her lungs out about what the heck Miles has been doing, Miles probably trying to explain the situation to her, Gwen may or may not try to defend Miles (honestly the only reason I may think Gwen doesn't say anything is because this is really a conversation she shouldn't be involved.) And Jess then comes out from the window to collect Miles; she may also bring her Motorcycle with her which would cause even more chaos.

Hey remember how Jeff was just going upstairs? I like to think is something like this.

I know is an old meme but imagine Jeff, happily coming back home after an end of his shift; and he finds the house with his son on a Spiderman costume fighting a very pregnant woman (who may have the motorcycle INSIDE HIS HOUSE,) the girl he brought with him earlier shooting webs or something trying to stop the black lady, and his wife probably screaming on a corner.

While writing this, I originally was going to say earlier that having Miguel and his croonies here could make things a tad complicated; no wonder I deleted that earlier because this is just chaos.

Speaking of Miguel, no doubt Jess informed him that Miles was at his house, with no signs of Riley. Depending or where he is, he may be coming by soon enough.

Sorry if you or anyone else was expecting a fluffy or heartwarming scenario, but in this blog I try to adhere to canon facts as much as I can for these analysis, and I couldn't answer with canon possibilities without taking everything into account.

That being said, oh my g-d this was so much fun; I should try to do these more often.

I will see if I use the original fic idea I had in mind, while drafting this I also thought of the possibility of what would happen if Gwen's picture (That as discussed in this analysis, she may have with her) fell off while she was leaving Miles' apartment; if anyone is interested in that last idea please say so because I am on the fence about it.

That's it for today! Hope you folks had fun with this.

#ghostflower #gwiles #miles morales #rio morales #gwen stacy #jessica drew #atsv files #ghostflower files #atsv #across the spiderverse #jeff morales

[luciddreamingcrow]

Stupid emotionally unavailable men comforting you after they were Assholes

A/n: I was craving some hurt/comfort, so I made some hurt/comfort, also if you are attached too easily to emotionaly unavailable characters but tired of reading fanfics where they are emotionally unavailable, you are at the right place boo 😘 cuz I misscharacterized them 👏just👏 for 👏YOU!!! (I hope you will be feeling better after some hardcore angst) !!!!!!!!!!Also this isn't proof read!!!!!!!!

Characters prsesent: Al Haitham, Scaramouche, Albedo.

Trope(s): Hurt/comfort, angst and in the end fluff, also it's hinted that reader is (emotionally at least)sensitive and tends to ignore their problems.

Warnings!: it isn't too serious but it's implied that reader is somewhat neglected!

--Song recommended for today is: Waterfalls by Glass animals--

Al haitham

(Pre)Scene:

From the start of your relationship with Al haitham it was expected that problems would manifest eventually and there was no way around it, from his lack of physical presence and him being "strictly" logical it made sense that having a s/o that's emotional compared to him, was only natural for a big personality crash to happen, like right now, while you were having a lot of stress due to the academia pressuring you with projects you were forced to do and having to socialize with people that drain you easily, the only thing in your mind was to go home to your lover, talk to your harts content and let all of your worries out. But the opposite thing just had to occur, because whenever you started to rant for a bit he would inturupt you and criticize your actions and give you "advice" on what to do instead of listening to your troubles, and that's the exact thing that made you break down. As he was rambling on, Al haitham turned his look at you and when he noticed the forming tears in your eyes, his rambling would slowly die down, he would slowly put one of his hands to your cheek to gently make you face him. The moment Al haitham saw your teary eyes avoiding his gaze, he felt how sharply his stomach dropped filed with regret. And the second you started to sob he in a instant embraced you trying his best to comfort you. He truly didn't meant to push you over the edge and he couldn't handle the amount of guilt he felt, but regardless of that his top priority was to comfort you

Headcanons on comforting his s/o:

☾☼☽He would keep this position for a bit longer, trying his best to comfort you by keeping you close to him and running one of his hand on your back and the other hording you close.

☾☼☽After you would have calmed down he'd make sure of how you are feeling and bring you all the things you need.

☾☼☽Of course communication is key so he would insist for you to tell him what he specifically did wrong(he most likely would have figured it out but he still wants confirmation from you specifically)

☾☼☽Afterwards you would cuddle and he'd read you books that he knows you love them.

Scaramouche (Harbinger)

(Pre)Scene:

I know EXACTLY what would cause the conflict and that would be of course the amount degradation he seems to spit at everyone that he views as lesser of. And no he doesn't view his s/o as lesser of but that doesn't save them from the teasing "insults" he spits at you without a second thought. The incident that triggered the conflict was when he came back from a tiring mission, all tired and craving some quiet and relaxation only to be disturbed by a fatui agent reporting that the said papers must be signed up as quickly as possible. After Scaramouche dismissed the the fatui agent he dug himself to more work in witch there were many other agents or butlers that filled him with more paperwork. After all night of working and getting disturbed by literally everyone did fuel him up witch ended up with Scaramouche giving of passive aggressive comments left and right just to let off some steam out of his system. And that would be for the most simple things such as: your posture, why haven't you been doing this, this, and that, why are you acting so dumb all the time, etc. Of course he didn't see anything wrong with it and kept on going and that is until he heard how you started sniffing under your nose not daring to let another sound of because you didn't what him to start degrading you again or even worse mocking you and all of these thoughts would bring you to the verge of tears. You would suddenly snap out of your mind when you felt Scaramouches hand guiding you a silent private room with a calming atmosphere. As he turned around to face you, even as he felt like he didn't even deserve to be in your presence and just leave you alone, right now he knew he had to stay with you, unless you didn't want him there. He would look at you as gently as he could and ask you what's the matter? what's wrong? Tell him. After you'd voice your concerns about how he treats you without a good reason, he would start reflecting for a second because he didn't expect you to take his "insignificant insults" actually seriously, and the first thing he would do to make things better is:

Headcanons on comforting his s/o:

⋆✭⋆Scaramouche would firstly let you cry your heart out while he's holding u tightly

⋆✮⋆After you would have calmed down he'd start to run his fingers through your hair or soothe you how you prefer, and with a gentle voice correct his previous degrading comments and telling you what you want to hear and need to hear

⋆✮⋆Of course he'd let you vent for as long as you wanted and would be right there besides you listening carefuly

⋆✮⋆Later Scara would offer you some water and food for you to calm down completely

⋆✮⋆And after this event he'd try his best for something like this to never happened again because he's a firm believer that actions speak louder than words.

Albedo

(Pre) Scene:

Ok let's get something clear, Albedo is a really good lover and is attentive in his romantic relationship but despite him being viewed as a genius he does lack communication on a affectionate level not being quite sure what to do on some social situations that involve showing affection and care for the people that he views as great companions because he believes that the said people already know that he views them positively and doesn't feel the need to express it. And that lead to him accidentally neglect his s/o. This situation took the form of the snowball effect, slowly but surely the more Albedo didn't express his gratitude, appreciation, etc started to pile up on you thinking that he was emotionally distant to you on purpose and thus you started overthinking, did you do something wrong to upset him?, and if so what would that thing be. The more you thought about it the more stressed you became and until the end you confronted him about it since there was no way around it. When Albedo heard your concerns for the first time he was really surprised to say the least, his surprise wouldn't last long because he put two and two together and it made sence why you'd have these thoughts running around your head.

Headcanons on comforting his s/o:

≲•≳At first Albedo would explain to you his thought process and reassure you that you have nothing to worry about and you should have asked him from the start try to be more vocal about praising you.

≲•≳After that he would try his best to be more vocal with you even if it was hard for him in the start.

≲•≳Eventually you would be spoiled rotten by this man and sometimes use it to his advantage to tease you, now that he knows what gets you weak in the knees/hj.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #fanfic #fanfiction #albedo x reader #albedo x y/n #albedo x you #al haitham #al haitham x you #al haitham x reader #al haitham x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scara x you #scara x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #Spotify

[pedgito]

Eddie and Alter ego Kas triggered by stress and or arousal?

author's note: this takes place in my previous vamp!eddie request universe which can be read here, it'll help things make more sense but this can still be read as a standalone!

cw: 18+ (to be safe), vampire!eddie, crush confessions, eddie is hesitant with his newfound lifestyle, blood-drinking, eddie's blood heals/hints at connection from blood-sharing, lots of teasing from reader and eddie being super sweet, make-out sessions/grinding, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.6k

It takes Eddie a month for him to properly admit his feelings for you, if they could even be considered that. It’s nonstop banter, a back and forth fight for the last word during every shift, and Eddie’s fallen in love despite how much he despised himself for it. It wasn’t because of you—you were everything you should be, carefree and resilient, and Eddie’s never encountered someone like you before. He just knows that normal isn’t possible for him, not anymore. It’s taken him a while to come to terms with it, but he knows that it has to be that way. There were no happy endings for Eddie Munson.

It wasn’t without your constant pestering and teasing. Eddie had charmed his way into your daily life quickly and what was strictly a working relationship turned into a weird, blossoming friendship that you welcomed greatly—he did save your life after all.

And despite your obviously different lifestyles, Eddie still ventures out in the day regardless of the annoyance the sun causes or the odd stares he gets for wearing a thick leather jacket in the middle of a sweltering summer. You do still try to stick to nights most of the time when it’s not spent buried in your work and leaving you both covered in a medley of different types of blood and creature goo.

When he does confess his feelings, it’s quick and you almost miss it. Eddie is hoping you do.

His arms wrap around you out of instinct when your feet slip out from under you, cursing at your clumsy nature and the old, dilapidated flooring of the house you were stuck in for the night, scoping out the nest from across the way.

Eddie doesn’t worry much about where his hands land, only trying to keep you from further injuring yourself, his palms catching you just at the underside of your breasts, squeezed securely over your ribs.

“Careful,” You tease breathlessly, heart skipping from the idea of falling flat on your ass, “I might think you’re starting to like me.”

“I do,” Eddie mumbles mindlessly, effortlessly pulling you upright and steadying your feet—your heart is pounding in his ears, an overwhelming whooshing sound that makes his head hurt, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“No, I meant,” You catch yourself saying, but quickly shove it back down, “—it was just a joke, nevermind.”

“That too.” Eddie says softly, letting go and pressing the flashlight back into your tight fists, still tense from the fall.

You smile to yourself—and if Eddie had the ability to blush, if his blood was still warm and flowing through his body, his cheeks might’ve flushed a soft pink, but the embarrassment was still there regardless.

“Duly noted, batboy.” You remark, earning an exasperated sigh from Eddie.

“I thought you said you’d stop calling me that,” Eddie complains, “I don’t even turn into a bat or anything.”

You shrug, “I just like seeing you smile.” Eddie offers a subtle smile in response, like he’s trying to hold it back. “You don’t do it often.”

It doesn’t take Eddie long to find out that every emotion was uncontrollable around you, a constant fight to keep whatever burgeoning monster that was clawing to come out at bay. He couldn’t hurt you—it would kill him, but he knew that part of him was always there regardless. It was his nature now.

You knew there had been a breakthrough when Eddie finally gave in and drove you back to his place after weeks of begging, several sweet and awkward dates on his part, and enough slasher movies snuggled up on your couch for him to cave and allow you both a change of scenery. Not that it was different by much—there was no coffin or secret dungeon where he held his victims. It was a plain apartment, filled with all the necessary furniture and blackout curtains. He kept things low-light, but still enough to see throughout.

“I can turn the light on if you want.” Eddie tells you, feeling obligated to tend to your needs rather than his own.

“No,” You shake your head gently, turning to tug at the leather bracelet cuffed around his wrist, “—you don’t have to do that…thing.”

“Thing?” Eddie asks with slight intrigue, his hands winding around the length of your waist as he pulls you toward him gently, your arms wrapping around his midsection. You were used to his temperature now—never too cold, never too warm.

“Accommodating me all the time,” You explain, head tilting subtly to peer up at him, “my entire life is filled with uncomfortable and weird experiences—let me have this.”

Eddie’s puzzled again, eyebrow raising in question.

“You—“ You emphasize, pressing a soft, unexpected kiss to his lips, “I like you—all of you, even if that means I have to sit here and kiss you in the dark.”

“Oh?” Eddie asks with a smirk, a small peak at his sharpened fang hidden behind his rather stoic face—they’re only a little more elongated than a normal human’s and it was easy to dismiss, which is why his kind blended into society so well.

They were all normal people underneath it, aside from the obvious enhancements and obstacles that came along with it.

You nod eagerly, reaching up to glide your fingers along the side of his neck until they bury into the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him to you in an even fuller kiss. Eddie’s always attempted to keep things mostly safe, only ever above the waist and always asking before he touches you—like he might break you.

And you couldn’t handle it. You need more, want more. All of it. But, Eddie doesn’t know how to do all of this—relationships, or whatever this was. He doesn’t deserve you and he knows that, he’s still waiting for you to slip through his fingertips and the sudden realization to hit him that you’re just another figment in his imagination.

“More,” You breath against his lips, his keys dropping loudly on the counter as you two walk clumsily to his couch, never pulling away from one another, “please?”

Eddie breathes through his nose sharply, lifting you up and onto his lap as he plops to the couch in one fluid motion, his swiftness unnecessary and frankly, a little showy. Still, it makes you laugh against him, pulling away to force his face up to look at you, dark eyes glossed over. The brown specs are gone, replaced with something more sinister, even darker veins and lines spreading around the white of his eyes. It’s a stark contrast to his relaxed face and soft features. It doesn’t scare you in the slightest, thumbs rubbing along the corner of his eyes—he blinks once, twice, and suddenly they’re back to normal.

“Sorry,” He apologized softly, noticing the curious and pointed expression on your face, he squeezes his eyes shut tighter and shook his head, “It’s freaky looking, I know.”

“Not at all,” You smile, waiting for him to peek his eyes back open and look at you, “what is it—if you don’t mind me asking?”

Eddie chuckles awkwardly, “Uh, it just happens…sometimes.”

You give him a skeptical look but ignore it. He senses your apprehension and churning thoughts and shuts them out the only way he can think of, pressing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, your own parting in a soft moan.

“God,” Eddie groans against your lips, “you sound so pretty.”

“I think you’re a little biased.” You snark at him, anxious fingers pushing at the shoulder of his jacket, forcing it down his arms.

Eddie takes a moment to remove it, tossing it on the floor carelessly, trying to find the quickest path possible back to your mouth, his hand cupping around the side of your face and under your jaw, exposing your neck to him openly.

He’s only drunk from the vein a few times in his short lifespan in the afterlife—a few horrible people who definitely deserved it, but blood bags have been his main supply, dealing with the bitter aftertaste if it meant not having to spare a human’s life without justifiable reason. He can feel the mistake he’s making as soon as his mouth latches to your skin, the pulse thrumming against his tongue intensely—and the smell, he can’t even fully describe it. It’s sweet, mouthwatering, and all heightened by the soft mewls of pleasure you were releasing above him, hips grinding against his slowly, a subconscious movement.

The pain creeps back in slowly, the insatiable need, and Eddie grunts against your skin in an effort to hide his obvious discomfort. His fingers squeeze at your hips, causing you to pull back and force him to peer up at you, fangs extended slightly at eyes returning to their previous state, but much less restrained.

You suddenly realized why he’d held off for so long, too afraid that you’d run the other direction, terrified of him.

“Hey,” You soothe him, allowing him to lose himself for a moment in your eyes, “is it too much?”

“It’s not just this,” He explains through a pained look, face pinched up in concentration, “the blood, your blood—ever since I healed you, it’s like—“

“We’re connected?” You ask hesitantly.

“Sort of, “ He chuckles tensely, “but whenever you’re around me, it’s hard to ignore it.”

And maybe you’re missing the point, but you’re not sure you understand.

Eddie sighs, “Sometimes, it feels like there’s this voice in the back of my head and if I let it take over—I’m afraid of what will happen.”

You brush the curls away from his face, dragging your thumb along the furrow in his brow, “You won’t hurt me. If you wanted to you would have—I know I’ve pissed you off plenty.”

“I’ve killed people.” Eddie admits, “And I enjoyed it. I can’t outrun that part of me—“

“Do you want to kill me?” You ask curiously, feeling your heart race.

“Never,” Eddie replies adamantly, “but—I want to be honest with you and I don’t want to freak you out.”

“Eddie,” You deadpan, “are you forgetting what I do for a living? Nothing can freak me out anymore.”

Eddie squints at the sudden surge of pain, like a horrible headache that won’t quit, “Look, I only remember wanting blood this bad the first night after I died—I was alone and scared and it felt like my body was on fire.”

“Does it hurt that bad?” You ask with a tone of worry and Eddie can’t comprehend how you’re still worried about him despite the horrible things he’s admitting to you.

“Close enough,” He nods weakly, “but it’s different—I wanted to kill that person, I wanted to watch them take their last breath. But you, this—it’s deeper.”

You remember how it felt drinking Eddie’s blood—while necessary to keep you alive, it was nothing like you expected, not that you had anything to compare it to, but it had to be weirdly intimate for Eddie if it felt that way to you too.

“You can.” You tell him softly, honesty dripping in your tone, not wasting a second to consider how this could affect things.

“Kill you?” Eddie asks incredulously, “Why would I want to do that?”

“Shit, no—“ You laugh slightly, covering your face with your hands briefly in shame. “I meant…if you want a taste.”

“Don’t say that,” Eddie shakes his head, “I don’t, I can’t—“

You trace your finger along the line of his lips and he parts them slightly, letting you press the pad of your thumb against his canine.

“And if I told you I wanted it?” You ask teasingly, tipping his chin up slightly.

Eddie takes an unsteady breath, closing his eyes slowly.

“Don’t do this to me,” Eddie begs softly, pulling you even closer, “You don’t understand how badly I want you, sweetheart—and not just like that.”

“I think I do,” You lean into his space, breath ghosting over the side of his cheek as you lean in, lips tracing the shell of his ear, “so are you going to keep me waiting?”

Eddie still looks hesitant, eyebrows creasing in annoyance at his own thoughts fighting in his head.

“I trust you, Eddie.” You tell him, “You won’t hurt me.”

Eddie moves slowly, painfully so—brushing the hair away from your neck until the line of your neck is exposed to him, vein throbbing underneath skin, his mouth watering at the sight.

“If I hurt you—“ Eddie starts, voice husked over with a soft lisp.

“I can handle you,” You remind him, “don’t worry.”

He kisses you soft, slowly, and it’s a wonderful distraction before his teeth piercing your skin, gasping at the sting of it—a quick pinch before your body is consumed with euphoria, an unattainable drug that has you bordering on the edge of consciousness.

Eddie moans against your skin, blood flowing into his mouth as he swallows it down greedily, hands squeezing tighter around your waist. You give in fully, resting the weight of yourself against him as your hands fall to his chest.

“Fuck,” You curse softly, “that’s—holy shit.”

The pain is lingering in the back of your mind, but the connection is stronger, drowned out by the intimacy of blood-sharing. Eddie has nothing to compare it to, but it’s ingrained into his mind forever. When he finally pulls away, the sight is jarring—mouth covered in your own blood, making a mess of both you and him, blood seeping from the holes in your skin.

“Shit,” He curses, quickly pricking his thumb until a droplet of blood falls, pressing into your lips without thinking, “here, take it.”

Your tongue presses against the pad of it, sucking the blood into your mouth, the wound disappearing within seconds. It still amazes Eddie, regardless of how many times he’s seen it happen. It’s like a fever dream he can’t escape. It also does nothing to satiate the deep, growing need for you in the pit of his stomach as your lips close around his finger, accepting him without question.

He looks up in wonder, brow creased from the pressure of your lips, watching your eyes fall close as you shoved his finger just a tad deeper into your mouth, waiting for him to find a reason to pull away. He never does.

“You look ridiculous.” You note, pulling his hand away from your mouth and wiping at his blood-stained face, smearing it onto your own hand. Eddie pouts slightly and you add a sweet, “But, it’s kind of charming.”

“Oh, so the blood is working for you?” Eddie jokes, rubbing his fingers along the soft skin of your back, up and under your shirt. “If you think that’s messy you should see me when—“

You press a careful finger to his lips, shaking your head with a heated gaze, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Eddie smiles again, an unrestrained action that lights up his entire face, feeling happy for the moment even if he knows it’s fleeting.

“I feel…calmer,” Eddie admits, “I mean, it’s still there but just—less, I guess?”

“So,” You lean forward, chest grazing against his face as you lean his head back, forcing him to rest it on the back of the couch as he stared up at you, “does that mean I can have my way with you?”

“Let’s start slow,” Eddie chuckles, “I haven’t really been in this situation since—“

You nod knowingly, a subtle motion, “But, practice helps, right?”

Eddie leans forward suddenly, nipping gently at the underside of your jaw before pulling you into an unexpected kiss, tongue teasing over the seam of your lips, “And I think we need lots of it.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #vampire!eddie #my writing

[bobohu4eva]

Good to You - Part 2

Characters: Idol Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Maid AU, fluff, smut

Warnings for this chapter: drugs kinda?

WC: 6.5k

Tag list: @scentlacigarette

Masterlist

Baekhyun was a singer. Even if you’d known nothing of him and his work, you would’ve found this out regardless, because the man was always singing. Baekhyun was many things, but he was not a quiet person by any means. Which is why when he was silent for a whole day, you knew something was wrong. He had been home all day, but the only thing you heard was the sound of his TV through his bedroom door. 

You weren’t sure if it was really your place to say anything, but by now you cared for him too much not to worry. So, at the end of your shift, you knocked lightly on his bedroom door until you heard a quiet ‘come in.’ 

Baekhyun was sitting in bed, red nosed, with a box of tissues on his lap and a bottle of pain reliever on his nightstand. 

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you’ve been so quiet all day.” You spoke softly, taking in the image of the man before you. 

He smiled, realizing how much he liked the idea of you worrying about him. How cute. 

“I’m okay, it’s just a cold. Are you done for the day?” He asked, and you nodded. 

“Are you sure there isn’t anything you want me to grab for you before I go? A glass of water? Some tea?” 

He chuckled and shook his head, “I’m fine, thank you though.” You nodded again and gave him a smile and you were about to close the door when you saw him start to get up out of bed, and you almost had the door shut when you heard a loud thud. When you opened it again to see what had happened, you saw Baekhyun groaning, laying at the side of his bed, slowly starting to sit himself up. 

He said he was fine but if he passed out just from standing up, he definitely was not, at least in your eyes. You rushed over to help him back into bed. 

“Oh my god are you okay?” 

He was rubbing the side of his head with his eyes squeezed shut. He must've hit it on something when he passed out. 

“Fuck..” He mumbled, trying to get a grip and come back to his senses although his vision was still blurry and his head was still pounding. 

You were crouched down next to him but you quickly realized that you had no idea what to do and the idea of helping him up or touching him in any way really was too intimidating. You’d never gotten that close before and you weren’t sure if that was appropriate. 

He was still trying to reorient himself and when he finally realized that you were right next to him, wide eyed, trying to help him up, he couldn’t help but let out a disappointed groan. He was embarrassed. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him like this. 

“Are you okay?” You asked him again, now that his eyes were open and he seemed a bit more aware of his surroundings. 

He nodded and you felt his hand on your shoulder, and you helped him get back up and into bed. You could tell how embarrassed he still was. You didn’t want to make matters even more uncomfortable for him so you quickly excused yourself. 

“I’m going to grab you some tea and something to eat.” You said before heading to the kitchen.

You made some tea and heated up some soup and soon you were knocking on the door to his room again.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly as you sat the tray with the food down on the bed next to him. He looked so tired and defeated, you could only think about how badly you wanted to help him feel better. 

“No need to apologize, everyone gets sick sometimes. Just don’t strain yourself too much, alright?” 

“I have 14 hours of back to back schedules tomorrow.” He sighed. 

“What? Are you serious? Can’t you call in sick or something?” You asked, slightly shocked, as you sat down on the edge of his bed. 

“That’s not really how that works unfortunately. I’ve had to deal with this a few times before and it sucks, but I’ll live.” 

“Do you get sick a lot?” 

“Yeah, kind of. But I’m a big boy, I can handle myself. No need to worry about me, I hate when people pity me like that.” 

You frowned. “It’s okay to take a break and let people help you. Especially when you’re sick.” 

He sighed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm okay, really. Just go home and get some rest.” 

It felt wrong to leave him there like that, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome either. 

“You're sure you don’t need anything else?” 

He nodded and you supposed you did all you could and went home. You just hoped he would be okay at work the next day. 

It wasn’t that Baekhyun didn’t want you to stay or didn’t want your help, he just felt bad asking you to stay so long. It was already late in the evening, and you had your own life. He didn’t want to keep you from that. 

Some time had passed and he was starting to feel thirsty, and he needed water anyway if he was going to take some medicine to help him sleep. His whole body ached and he knew it would be a struggle even just getting to the kitchen and back, but he wanted to get it over with. He moved slowly, trying not to overexert himself, but as soon as he started to stand up his vision started to go black again so he quickly sat back down. He hadn’t felt this terrible in ages and the more he thought about the day he was going to have to have tomorrow, the more he regretted sending you home. It felt selfish to ask you to come back, but he didn’t know what else to do and was only feeling worse as the evening drew on. 

You had gotten comfortable on your couch when your phone lit up and you saw a text from him. 

“You were right. I feel like absolute shit, I can’t even get out of bed. I’ll pay double if you can stay here for the next few days until I’m back to normal. I’m really sorry.”

You smiled at the message, and got up to grab some of your belongings before heading back to his apartment. It was going to be a long night, but you were just glad he was accepting some kind of help.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m on my way.”  

On the way over you grabbed some medicine and when you arrived you made some more tea for him to take it with. 

He looked like hell. You weren’t surprised that he called for you back with the state he was in. When you brought him his tea he was shivering, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and all the color in his face was gone. 

“I’m sorry again, and thank you so much.” He said as he held the warm mug, enjoying how it heated up his cold hands. 

“Are you cold?” You asked. 

He nodded, so you went to grab some more blankets from the living room and gently laid them over him. 

“You really don’t have to thank me, or feel bad. Just get some rest okay? If you need anything you can text me.” 

He nodded weakly and with that you left the room. 

It felt odd sleeping in his spare bedroom that first night. The bed was much bigger than yours at home, and the sheets were softer. You liked how the sheets smelled like him since they’d been washed with the same detergent he used. It was unbelievably cozy, but unfortunately you still wouldn’t be getting much sleep. Now that he knew you were there and he’d finally let himself accept your help, he was texting you every couple hours for something. First he got too hot, then too cold, then he was thirsty, and so on. But you didn’t mind. You were just glad you could be there for him. 

The next day you kept yourself busy getting groceries and preparing food for the upcoming week. You weren’t usually there that much so you weren’t sure what to do but you still wanted to make yourself useful somehow. All day you hoped that Baekhyun was doing alright. But based on how the night before had gone, you weren’t optimistic. Having to work such long hours when you're that sick just seemed awful. 

You had passed out watching a drama when you heard the front door open, waking you up. You got up and shimmied into some sweatpants to go check on him but by the time you made it to the living room he was already asleep on the couch, still fully dressed and made up from what you assumed must’ve been a photoshoot. He had probably been too tired to even bother making it to his room. 

You knew he would regret it in the morning if he slept with all that makeup still on, so you went to the bathroom to find a makeup wipe. When you returned you got to work wiping the makeup off his face. As the makeup came off you were greeted with the same pale, tired face from the night before, yet you still found him beautiful. He was just a gorgeous man, and no sickness could ever hide that. You wished he could get a break, to rest and heal. He was overexerting himself so much and as someone who really cared for him, it hurt to see.  

His sleeping face looked so peaceful and content, you felt relieved that he was finally able to rest. You might’ve been enjoying yourself too much, grinning at how lovely his cheeks felt under your hands. Everything about him just seemed so soft and beautiful and welcoming, you felt obsessed. 

The more you found yourself taking care of him the more you felt the pangs in your heart at how much you liked him. How was it possible for anyone to be around him regularly and not fall in love? Somehow he seemed to be completely without flaws, aside from how reluctant he was to accept help from others or take a break for a while.  

You also didn’t understand how it was possible for him not to have some beautiful wife or girlfriend. During your time working for him he’d never mentioned a girlfriend, and you never found anything that would suggest anyone staying over. He had to have a long line of women, just from his day to day life that would love to have him but he didn’t seem to even entertain the idea for some reason. 

It wasn’t that you thought all idols were assholes, you just assumed that with how many women basically worshiped men like him that many would take advantage of it and sleep around, often treating the girls very poorly in the process. You’d had some unpleasant breakups yourself that left you guarded and skeptical of men who seemed too good to be true. At first you’d been skeptical of Baekhyun too, but eventually you realized that you really had no reason to doubt his sincerity. You were in his home all the time, yet you had never seen or experienced anything that would suggest he had something to hide. He was just a genuinely good person and it was almost confusing to you.  

You weren’t sure if this was even okay, to be wiping the makeup off his sleeping face, but for some reason you didn’t care. You knew that he wouldn’t be angry with you for it. Such a thing was difficult to even imagine. He never seemed to get angry really, or at least if he did he did a very good job of keeping it to himself. You shuddered at the thought of him ever getting mad and yelling at you. You hoped you’d never have to experience that. 

Once you’d done your best to get the makeup off his face you let him be, setting a glass of water on the coffee table for him when he woke up. You went back to the guest room and quickly dozed off as well.

You woke up to your phone buzzing, and when you picked it up to check you saw a text from Baekhyun. He must’ve woken up at some point and gone to his room. He was hungry. 

It was 3 in the morning but you still found yourself getting up and heating up some food for him. When you knocked on his door and let yourself into his room you were greeted by a big goofy smile and a small squeal of excitement. He must be doing better then, you thought, as you set his food down in front of him. You also couldn’t help but be extremely aware of how very shirtless he was.

“Y/n,” He drew it out, before stopping to let out a giggle. “ Thank youuu.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at his silly antics. “You seem to be doing better.” 

He nodded. “Chanyeollie made me go to a doctor and I got medicine and now everything feels so nice and warm and cozy.” 

“Ahh,” You responded, quickly realizing that it was his medicine making him like this. “Well, is there anything else you need?” 

He pouted at your words. “You’re leaving?” 

“Baekhyun, it’s three in the morning.” 

“But I’m lonely.” He complained, giving you his best puppy eyes, and you knew you were fucked. “Stay, please?” 

You knew this was a terrible idea but you couldn’t say no to him when he asked you so sweetly. You sighed, and closed the door behind you standing awkwardly at the other end of his bedroom. There wasn’t really any furniture other than his bed, but the idea of sitting next to him there made you blush. What on earth was he thinking asking you to stay with him there? 

“Come hereee.” He whined again, doing grabby hands at you, and reluctantly you sat down on the opposite end of the bed. He picked up the TV remote and put on a movie and you sat there and watched it with him while he ate. When he was finished he put the empty plate aside and before you could protest he was cuddling up next to you, resting his head on your lap and wrapping his arms around you. 

“Thank you for everything. I really love having you here. You take such good care of me.” 

You stayed frozen, not sure what to do or say. Baekhyun was not supposed to be touching you this much, and his words also felt too intimate. He was playing a dangerous game, acting like this towards you when you already had such strong feelings for him. You so badly wanted to reciprocate it all but you knew that wasn’t right either. He was your boss, and he was only acting this way because his medicine was making him loopy. 

You thought about moving away or even leaving the room all together but when you looked down at him he looked so peaceful and happy that you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You wondered how long it had been since he’d been held like this, but with how tightly he kept his arms around your waist and the look of content clear on his face, it must’ve been a while. So you stayed there like that, letting him do as he pleased, and you even let yourself enjoy the feeling a little. Of course it was only because of the medicine, but you still cherished the feeling of holding him close. 

He shifted and you let out a surprised gasp when his cold hands pushed under your shirt, resting over the bare skin of your waist as his hold around you tightened. 

“You’re so warm.” He mumbled, eyes still shut with a lopsided smile on his lips. “And soft…” His hands were moving on your waist now, and you felt your whole body burning with embarrassment as he kept running his hands along your bare skin. 

His eyes opened and they found yours and he was once again wearing a silly looking smile, eyes tired and heavy as he kept looking at you. 

“And pretty.” 

Somehow you managed to blush even harder than you already were. Byun Baekhyun had just called you pretty. Of course you didn’t think you were terrible looking or anything, you thought you were okay, but to hear him of all people tell you that you looked pretty had your chest tightening and heart racing.

When you woke up the next morning you were afraid to go check on him. You didn’t know if you had it in you to repeat everything from last night. Your thoughts had kept you up nearly all night, even after Baekhyun had fallen asleep and you went back to the other room. But you knew that he was still sick and still needed your aid, so you dragged yourself up out of bed and knocked lightly on his door. 

When he invited you in he wasn’t smiling like he had been the night before, and his face was once again void of any color. The medicine must’ve worn off, and he was back to being his usual self, although he also seemed to be quite weak again. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked. 

“Tired.” He replied. “That medicine Chanyeol’s doctor gave me messed me up. I hardly even remember how I got to bed after taking it.” 

“You don’t remember any of last night?” 

“I just know I woke up on the couch and then went to the bathroom to wash up and take that medicine, and then everything went black.”

“Oh..” 

He didn’t remember any of it. He must’ve been so high off whatever those pills were that he had no idea what he’d been saying or doing. You suddenly felt gross for how much you’d let him touch you when he obviously didn’t mean any of it. 

Of course he didn’t mean it. Of course he didn’t actually find you attractive. He was so far out of reach, you cursed yourself for even letting yourself get caught up in such a silly fantasy. 

“Thank you by the way.” 

“Huh? For what?” You asked. 

“For taking my makeup off for me after I fell asleep out there, I hate falling asleep with all that stuff still on my face, it always feels so gross to wake up to later.” 

“Oh, it’s no problem.” You felt yourself blushing again. “You really don’t remember anything from last night?”

“Just taking that medicine and going back to my room, I guess I probably fell asleep. Did anything happen?” 

“No, nothing happened.” You replied. “Just wondering.”

That day, to your relief, Baekhyun didn’t have quite as busy a schedule. He took his medicine again before getting picked up to leave for work and you wondered how he would be able to function on that stuff, but at least it seemed to ease his pain. 

You spent most of the day on random mundane chores, but you didn’t mind, you actually found this part of the job to be relaxing. You could just put on some music or a podcast and tune everything else out. It was almost therapeutic. 

You were surprised when you heard the door open in the middle of the afternoon. He wasn’t supposed to be done with work until later in the evening. You walked out into the living room to see what was going on and saw Baekhyun standing in the doorway with his arm around another, taller man's shoulders. He looked familiar. He must’ve been another member of the group. 

He was giving you a bit of an odd look and you wondered if Baekhyun had told anyone that he’d hired you. This man didn’t seem to be expecting you there at all. 

“Hii y/n!” You heard Baekhyun slur, once again high off his medicine. “Sehun this is y/n she’s my housekeeper isn’t she cute?” 

You saw the other man's eyes widen and you felt your face become bright red. Not to mention how you were definitely not dressed like a hired professional, you were only wearing a tank top and pajama shorts. 

The two of you exchanged another odd glance as Baekhyun giggled to himself about nothing, and then the man spoke. 

“He misunderstood the doctor when they told him how much to take. He’s accidentally been taking way too much, he’ll be fine he just can’t work like this so…” 

You quickly nodded and made your way over to the two men, removing his arm from around Sehun and helping him to sit on the couch. 

“You work for him?” The taller man asked you. 

You bowed slightly and nodded. His eyes traveled down to your clothes and you felt yourself turning red again. 

“I didn’t realize he was coming home so early.” You mumbled softly. 

He nodded politely and excused himself, leaving you there with Baekhyun. You were right back where you’d been the night before. 

This time you tried to keep your distance. You didn’t want a repeat of the previous night, you just didn’t have that in you. There was only so much a girl’s heart could handle. 

However Baekhyun had other plans. After you'd made him some tea and set it down on the coffee table for him he started whining. 

“The couch isn’t comfy anymore, can you help me to bed?” 

You really didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to be touching him, you knew you wanted too much. But he was sick and uncomfortable and you still wanted to help him too. In the end it was impossible for you to say no to him and you reluctantly let him throw an arm around your shoulders to help him get to his bed. 

You could feel how warm he was, and you felt guilty for getting any pleasure out of this when he was hurting, and he wouldn’t even remember it the next day. But he still felt so nice and firm and strong beneath your hands, you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him completely. 

As you helped him get to his room you were far too aware of the closeness of your bodies and you were thankful the moment you reached his bed and could let him go, however Baekhyun did not want to let go of you yet. When you reached the edge of his bed his arms wrapped themselves firmly around your waist and as he fell back onto the mattress, you fell with him. You landed on top of him on his bed, chest to chest. You felt your heart hammering in your chest at the unexpected contact. 

Baekhyun was just humming contently, keeping his arms locked firmly around you. You pushed yourself up the best you could and when your eyes met his face they found him with a dopey smile, eyes half closed in the haze of the drug. 

This was not right. You needed to get up. You tried to pry an arm off you but he just whined and held on tighter, rolling over so the both of you were now laying on your side, and your face was buried in his chest. 

Once you were both situated you were able to hear the rapid pounding of his heart and feel how hard he was breathing. It had to be the medicine, you told yourself. You so dearly hoped that he wouldn’t remember this either, to spare himself the embarrassment. Everything about this was so wrong, yet it felt so damn good too, because now, somehow, you knew what it felt like to be held by him. 

As the seconds passed however, you realized you couldn’t do it. This was wrong, he shouldn’t be doing this with you, and for you to allow it to happen was also wrong. You wiggled an arm out from under you, and with one hand firmly on his chest, you pushed yourself away from him and out of his grasp. You heard his whining at the loss of contact but you couldn’t let that distract you as you quickly walked out of the room, closing the door behind you. 

When you were back in the guest room, you had to take a minute just to breathe and calm yourself down. It felt like torture. Your painfully attractive boss was being so flirty and touchy with you, but none of it was even real. 

It was so frustrating, and after about a minute of letting it all sink in the tears started coming. It felt like your heart was being toyed with, tested almost. You somehow crossed paths with this incredible guy and the universe was pushing you, seeing how much it could mess with your emotions, because no matter how bad you tried you couldn’t help but want him. 

You jumped when you heard your phone vibrate next to you. It was him. 

“Why’d you go :(”

You cleared the notification and found something else to keep yourself occupied with. You knew you’d have to check on him again eventually, but for now you’d distract yourself best you could. 

After a couple hours you started heating up his dinner, already dreading having to bring it to him. 

When you knocked on his door he didn’t respond. You tried again, and still nothing. Rather than letting his dinner get cold, you slowly opened the door, finding Baekhyun fast asleep. 

You set down his food next to the bed and gently shook him awake. 

“Sorry to wake you up, you should really eat something.” 

He still looked a bit dazed as he was slowly waking back up. He looked at you, and then the food and when his eyes met the clock on his nightstand you saw him tense up.

“What the hell, why am I here? I still have two more hours of-” 

“Baekhyun, you've been taking twice as much medicine as the doctor said. Your friend Sehun took you home a few hours ago since you were too messed up in the head to work.”  

He let out a disappointed groan, covering his face with his hands. You set his food down next to him and you heard him sigh. 

“I’m a goddamn idiot.” He whispered. 

You frowned. “Don’t say that.” 

He sighed. “I never miss work.” 

“Baekhyun it’s okay to take some time to rest, please don’t feel bad. Just eat this and try to get some more sleep, yeah?” 

He nodded solemnly, grabbing the tray with his dinner. “Do you mind hanging out for a bit? It feels a little depressing to eat alone right now.” 

You agreed, and once again found yourself sitting in bed with him as he put something on for you to watch. Now that he wasn’t all drugged up and trying to touch you it was actually nice, just getting to spend time with him, sober. 

Once he’d finished eating you noticed him scrolling on his phone and something had him looking confused. 

“Did I fall asleep again earlier when Sehun brought me here? Or did I do or say anything?” 

You weren’t quite sure what to say or why he was asking, but you definitely didn’t want to recant all of his earlier actions to him so you shook your head. 

“Why are you lying? I just saw that I texted you earlier, and last night too. You said nothing happened and I was asleep.” 

You felt your stomach drop and your face start to burn. He didn’t sound like he was angry, but his tone of voice and the way he was looking at you still made you wish you could disappear. His eyes were focused and his face stern as he looked at you with confusion.

It surprised you how intimidating he became in those few short seconds. The way his eyes bore into you made you want to run and hide. He usually expresses a kind of warmth that made people feel at ease with him, but that had disappeared completely. 

You couldn’t tell him what happened. You just couldn’t stomach that. 

“I- I’m sorry.” You eventually whispered, and although you tried to keep it in a tear soon escaped too. 

His demeanor changed as soon as he saw that you were crying, his gaze softening and he moved closer, his hand finding your cheek and you felt his thumb wiping away the wetness. 

“Please don’t cry, I'm not mad at you, but why didn’t you tell me? What happened that you feel like you have to lie about? I wish I could at least remember something but I really can’t and I’m sorry if I said something that upset you but please just tell me.” 

Now that he was closer and he was touching you, you lost it completely, sobbing and shaking your head. You couldn’t tell him. 

He was growing more and more worried as you cried and he had a tendency to ramble when he was freaking out. Baekhyun was growing increasingly concerned that he’d done or said something that had really hurt you. He hadn’t meant to at all but now you were crying because of him and he felt like he had to try and fix it. 

He was still rambling, moving closer and closer to you, trying to wipe away your tears. He really was trying to help, but the more he did the harder you cried and the more you tried to escape him, which wasn’t easy when both of his hands were on your face desperately trying to both wipe away your tears and keep your attention on him. 

Every time you’d try to back away from him he’d move closer and eventually with one last movement you felt yourself falling off of the edge of his bed flat onto the hardwood floor. 

You could hear him apologizing and asking if you were alright but you didn’t respond, and when you felt his hand on your arm trying to pull you back up towards him you finally lost it, pushing yourself up and away from him and once you were on your feet you quickly ran out of his room into the guest room, locking the door behind you. 

Baekhyun sat there stunned for a moment, and you broke down completely once you were by yourself again. He could hear you crying from his room. He felt absolutely terrible. 

He didn’t understand at all why you were crying so hard, when he made it clear that he wasn’t mad at you. It wasn’t like he’d yelled at you or anything, it all came from a place of concern. In hindsight he probably could’ve asked you a bit more gently rather than just calling out your lie like that, but he had a feeling that that wasn’t really what had made you cry like that. 

He tried his best to remember at least something from when he was on that medicine, but it just wasn’t happening. There must’ve been something he said or did that had really affected you, and he was still going to try to figure out what it was before the guilt ate him alive. 

Luckily he was starting to feel a bit better now that he was taking his medicine correctly, and the next morning during a group schedule he went to Sehun to try to get some answers. However before he could ask him anything, he was being questioned himself. 

“What the hell is going on with that girl that was at your apartment yesterday?” 

Baekhyun gave his friend a questioning look. “What do you mean? My housekeeper?” 

Sehun raised an eyebrow. “The housekeeper who apparently sleeps over there with you and who you called cute. I’m not trying to tell you what you can and can’t do but do you really think this is a good idea?”  

“I said that? When?”

“Baekhyun be honest are you fucking your maid?” 

He looked at Sehun like he was completely insane.“No, of course not! She’s just been staying over to help out while I’m sick is all. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“When I dropped you off yesterday you said something like ‘this is my housekeeper she’s so cute.’ She seemed really embarrassed by it.” 

At that, Baekhyun felt his heart drop. “Was I talking a lot..?” 

“Yeah it was kind of annoying you were just saying whatever the hell popped into your head it seemed.You were also being super touchy.” 

He felt his stomach twist and when he thought back on how upset you were the evening before it almost made him want to throw up. He very well could’ve done something completely inappropriate and he suddenly didn’t blame you at all for not wanting to tell him. In fact he wouldn’t blame you if you and all your things were gone when he got home later. 

“Baekhyun?” 

He had always been a very physically affectionate guy, and he was quite fond of you, but he knew that it still wasn’t appropriate for him to touch you at all. 

“If I was acting that strange, why did you leave me there with her?! Did you at least warn her or something? I was wondering why she’d lied and told me I was asleep the whole time but no fucking wonder I probably scared the shit out of her and did something completely inappropriate!” 

“What was I supposed to do?! I was just there to drop you off and I had no idea you even had a housekeeper.“ 

Baekhyun’s eyes squeezed shut and he felt his frustration rising. Of course it wasn’t really Sehun’s fault either but it was still upsetting to him. 

“She’s probably already gone now, after how upset she got yesterday.” Baekhyun mumbled, his throat growing tight at the thought of not having you around anymore. If he messed this up he’d have a hard time forgiving himself.

“What does she even do?” Sehun asked. 

“Cook, clean, laundry, groceries, that kind of stuff. It was really nice having someone to help with all that.” 

Sehun chuckled, “So you bought yourself a housewife?” 

“First of all, that's sexist, and I told you it’s not like that! When I first met her she was sent by some big company. It wasn't until later that I decided to hire her privately. I didn’t know they’d send someone young and pretty, for all I knew it could’ve been an old man who showed up that day.” 

“Baekhyun I know what you mean but come on I know the kinds of girls you go for and she’s totally your type. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to have someone like that as your housekeeper.” 

“Well I doubt she even wants to work for me anymore.” Baekhyun muttered before walking away. He knew that Sehun was right about that stuff, but he still didn’t want to hear it. 

All day he worried that you’d be gone by the time he’d get home, that you didn’t want to work for him after whatever he’d done. He was still sick too, and the hours seemed to drag on for ages. Luckily it wasn’t so bad anymore but he could tell that he still wasn’t back at his normal strength. 

When he finally got home he was anxious to see if you were still there or not. He couldn’t tell any difference in the common space when he first walked in, so he went over to the door of the guest room, knocking lightly. 

He didn’t expect an answer, so he was surprised to hear your quiet “come in.” 

He opened the door and you were sitting in bed on your phone, and he watched as you put it down and wrapped your arms around your legs, bringing your knees to your chest. 

You looked up at him, waiting for whatever he had to say. 

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I talked to Sehun and I understand why you didn’t want to tell me, I was not acting right. Whatever I said or did, I’m so, so sorry and I hope you can forgive me.” 

You let your arms fall and stretched your legs out in front of you, and Baekhyun was moving towards you until he sat at the edge of the bed.

“I honestly didn’t even think you would still be here after everything. You seemed really upset, I feel terrible. I shouldn’t have pressed you to tell me like that either. I’m really so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” You eventually whispered in response. “Thank you.” 

He was looking at you with that slight pout and furrowing of his brows that told you he was still worried. 

“Is there anything I can do to help make it up to you?” 

You smiled a little and shook your head. “You don’t have to keep apologizing, I know you didn’t mean any harm.” More than anything you were relieved that he wasn’t still trying to get you to tell him what happened. 

“I just don’t want you to hate working here.” 

“I don’t hate working here, I actually really like it. I promise.” 

The look on his face was one of relief, he was thankful to still have you there. He was still going to try and make it up to you though. 

“I thought since you’ve already been here so long and I'm starting to feel a bit better, you could take a few days off to relax. I know you probably miss sleeping in your own bed.” 

You frowned and Baekhyun looked confused. He was wrong of course, but he was still just trying to be nice. 

“I really don’t mind staying here, and you’re still sick.” You said. 

“Would you like to stay then?” 

You shrugged and nodded. His guest bed was more comfortable than yours, his apartment was much bigger and nicer, and above all, he was there. 

Baekhyun grinned and thanked you before going back to his room and you got started on dinner. 

The next several days were nice. Baekhyun didn’t have as much going on at work so he was home a lot more and you continued to do your best to nurse him back to health. The two of you talked more and you could tell that Baekhyun was putting a lot of effort into making you feel at home there. He made you laugh a lot and he loved to see how you were starting to open up to him.

It was funny to both of you how awkward things had been the first few days, as compared to now. He hardly felt like your boss at all, he’d become a real friend. 

Next Chapter

#baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun x reader #exo fanfic #exo baekhyun #exo fluff #baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fic #baekhyun ff #exo fic

[sapphorror]

The relevance of chronology in IZ is dubious at best (in the show—it is flat-out non-existent in the comics), but I do kind of love to think about it regardless because there are so many weirdly specific points of internal continuity, practically and sometimes even emotionally, that we can't pretend there's absolutely nothing to examine there, even if the degree to which it matters is next to null. And anyway, I love a fool's errand.

So with that disclaimer I'd just like to talk about everyone's favorite organ harvesting episode and how much it kills me when examined in the context of an on-going continuity, because it's not just one of the most horrifying things Zim ever does across canon, it's really the first horrifying thing that Dib is present to bear witness to, at least on that scale. For all that NanoZim must've been scary and violating on a personal level, it was ultimately still a contained, targeted attack, and not even an unjustified one—not that Dib would consciously think of it this way, but Zim was acting in reasonable self-defense, he just chose to be really brutal and vindictive as he did so. Plus, Dib did come out on top of that encounter, so there were no real lasting consequences besides losing his evidence, which only put him back to square one. Basically, it was a great basis for forming a personal grudge, but it didn't really say anything about how generally malicious or threatening Zim actually was outside the context of their quickly-coalescing rivalry. Zim's only a monster at this point insofar as it's fun for Dib to have a dragon to defeat. The danger he poses does not yet hang over Dib's head like a guillotine.

Dark Harvest, though. In Dark Harvest, Zim shows just how capable he is of committing brutality on total bystanders at a mass scale under much less urgent circumstances without so much as a trace of hesitation or remorse—and by the end of it, Dib learns firsthand how severe the consequences for losing to Zim can actually be. Healed through the miracle of the status quo reset button or not... well.

And this adds a lot of context to why Dib spends the rest of the series so totally convinced of the danger Zim poses, even if most of the time that POV is extreme overkill. If he ever starts to doubt the necessity of his mission, just think about the time Zim stole a bunch of kids' organs, and that's irrefutable proof that Zim CAN accomplish terrible things if left unchecked. If he ever starts to doubt the morality of his intentions, just think about the time Zim stole a bunch of kids' organs (and would do so again!), and he can rest easy knowing Zim deserves every terrible consequence coming for him. If he ever forgets why he absolutely cannot afford to let his guard slip for even a second, just think about the time Zim stole a bunch of kids' organs, including Dib's, and now he remembers exactly why it's so important Zim's never allowed to gain the upper-hand. Even when he finally ditches Zim in Mopiness of Doom, it's not because he stops seeing Zim as a threat, it's that he's gotten too burnt out on single-handedly saving the world all the time to care.

(Gaz, of course, was there too and still thinks Zim is harmless, but Gaz also thinks expressing pain after having your entire lower body melted into off-brand bug spray makes you a whiner, so let's not put too much stock in her judgement here)

Even during Dark Harvest, Dib's immediate response upon finding Zim is to tell him this is totally beyond the pale, as if Zim might actually care—and while Dib trying to convince Zim he's acting totally unhinged isn't exactly unusual throughout the show, past this point he usually does so by appealing to Zim's self-interest ("stop trying to blow up the planet, you're still ON the planet") rather than any hypothetical better nature or good sense, can you even imagine. But that's exactly what he does here, reflexively or not, and that to me is a perfect demonstration of how this episode marks a radical shift in what Dib thinks he's up against.

And for some bonus meta? This also stretches into The Wettening in a really fun way, which is the second episode after Dark Harvest and the first with Dib. The sheer glee Dib takes in exploiting the new-found weakness for all it's worth, just because he can, makes a lot of sense in the wake of Dark Harvest and his new understanding of Zim as an out-of-control inhuman lunatic he has no idea how to stop. Seeing Zim vulnerable to something, openly afraid, and in obviously agonizing pain—well, humanizes would be the wrong word under the circumstances, but it cuts him back down to mortal size. He might be tough, and he might be terrifying, but he's not invincible. Even after Zim very unambiguously wins that fight and finds a way to protect himself from Earth's water, the important take-away is that there are things that can hurt him—Dib just has to figure out what they are. If Dark Harvest is the episode that shows Dib Zim is truly a monster, The Wettening is the episode to teach him even real monsters can be defeated.

#invader zim #dib #zade #zadp #meta #my meta #iz posting #natterings

[buckyplsmarryme]

Home

Din Djarin x female reader

One shot takes place during season 2 ep.6

Right after the razor crest is destroyed, Din thinks he loses you during the chaos.

Warnings: some angst, but leads to happy ending. Din being a little dramatic but we love him, he talks of running into fire. Fear of loss/ panic

Helmet comes offfff<3

When Moff Gideon’s cruiser fired at his ship he felt a pang in his heart that he was not expecting, after all he had grown accustomed to temporary things. He knew too well that nothing lasted forever.

The crest was different. Din had brought Grogu onto his ship, he had brought you onto his ship. Memories of the past year with his adopted son came flooding in. Grogu’s beloved toys, pictures he had drawn, his blankets. Everything gone in an instant.

You lit up the small ship with your laughter, your passion, and your love you gave out to him and Grogu freely. Qualities that he was not used to, but quickly became what made him fall deeply in love with you.

As soon as the two of you came into his life the razor crest exuded warmth and home. Feelings that he had not felt since his childhood.

When he first came to owning his ship, he cursed under his breath upon seeing it, it was a piece of work that needed constant maintenance and skill to fix.

When he took in Grogu, his time and patience was wearing thin. He could no longer put all of his focus into what needed to be done to keep the ship from breaking down. And as masterful he was in almost all areas, he was no mechanic.

This is what led him to you.

Seeing unfamiliar flashing lights come on all across his ship, he had no choice but go to Tatoonine and seek Peli and her overpriced repair shop.

He was greeted however not by Peli, but by the most angelic creature he had ever seen. You had begun working at Peli’s shop since the last time he had been and he was instantly drawn to you.

After your first meeting, Din started to go to Peli’s for just about any and every problem he encountered with the Crest. Where he once was too stubborn to go, determined he could fix anything himself he now leapt at any chance to go to the shop, just in hopes of talking to you.

He could not stay away, and you yearned for him when he was gone. From the start you felt instantly connected to him and his little green son.

You quickly grew to love him. Peli made fun of the way you would longingly stare at him when he departed, and anxiously awaited his next visit.

You loved how he loved Grogu. You were in awe of how someone who seemed so intimidating, was the most gentle and caring man you’d ever come to know.

He told you things he could never imagine telling anyone else. He opened up to you completely. He told you about his parents, and how he came to be a mandalorian. He took careful time in explaining his creed, and although you longed to see his face, you understood and respected him completely. You loved him regardless even if you never see under his helmet.

You told him your past, all about your family, and how you wished to leave your planet because there was holding you to it any longer.

Within months, Din asked you to join him. He stated he had buisness to reunite Grogu with his kind and get him away from those who threatened him. He stated that he would miss you terribly when he went away and offered you a position to help him with his ship and Grogu.

Of course you jumped to go with him and the months you spent with him on his ship have been the happiest of your life.

You truly had a family and a sense of belonging with him and Grogu. He had changed your life completely.

You awoke a feeling in Din that he could not describe. All he knows is that you fixed him in all ways possible. You made him a better person, a better father to Grogu. You made his life more meaningful, you gave him the strength he needed to make it back after every bounty just so he could see your face and know you are safe.

You.

Where were you?

As he watched his ship burn, he looked around, he had not seen you in an hour or so before the attack.

He had been out with Grogu in search of contacting the Jedi as he had been instructed to do.

Had you gotten back on the ship?

“Meshla please listen to me” he had pleaded just hours before with you.

“If Gideon finds us, promise me you will get yourself to safety” he held her face as she said “I will Din, I promise”

Had he sent her to her death? Din became frantic. He started sprinting towards their burning home to see if what he feared more than anything had occurred.

“No please no” Din kept muttering as he was searching and praying.

He began hyperventilating, of course you would go back to the ship if you saw the danger above. That is exactly what you had promised him many times you would do in this situation.

When he realized there was no way of entering the ship without being consumed by the fire himself he fell to his knees.

He could feel the aggressive heat of the flames roaring onto his skin where his beskar did not cover. However he did not care, and if it were not for abandoning his son he would run into the flames himself.

A life without you had no meaning. How did he go so long without you? He had never felt this agony before, not even when he lost his parents so long ago.

What would he do? All his hopeless and devastating thoughts were burning in his head as he cried until suddenly he heard a voice.

“Din” your soft voice broke him out of his despair.

He felt arms wrap aound his body as you squeezed him into you.

He cannot stop crying, and you try your best to comfort him. He pins you down and cries on you for what feels like hours.

“Cyare I thought you were gone” he cried into your neck.

“Im sorry Din, I didn’t mean to scare you” you whispered softly.

“I was up the hill looking for you and Grogu when I heard the explosion, I’m so sorry it took me so long to get back to you” you explained.

You had never seen or heard him sound so broken before. And in your state of worry you hardly processed him pulling away from you and throwing his helmet to the ground.

You gasped as you saw beautiful curls and deep brown eyes before his lips were on yours.

Din had no ship to call home, and now no creed to cling on to but he no longer cared.

He had you. And he wanted none of himself hidden any longer. Nothing else will ever matter to him more.

He knows that him and his precious family will always be okay as long as they have each other.

“I love you so much meshla” he tells you as he pulls away.

“I love you Din, always”

-this is my first time writing on tumblr, thank you for reading:))

Translations:

Cyare: beloved, loved, popular

Meshla: beautiful

#din dijarin fluff #din dijarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin one shot #star wars #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian #comfort #din djarin angst #one shot

[lunarwritesthings]

Thou Shall Not Touch What is Mine

Paring: Jeff Hardy x Gn!Reader

Fandom: Wwe

Request: Yes, by anon

Summary: Jeff gets jealous about someone talking and touching HIS baby.

Prompt: #15 "I don't fucking care. You're supposed to be mine."

Note: This takes place in the late 90s/early 2000s it fits best with people's characters. The reader is also Christian's younger sibling. There's a twist towards the end

Jeff was not one to be anything but nice to people. It's how he was raised to be. However, those feelings flew out the window when it happened. What is it? Well, "it" is when he sees someone touching and talking to HIS baby in a way he knows is meant to be flirty or so he thinks.

Now, who's Jeff's baby? Well, that's simple baby Cage aka you. You were called baby Cage due to being the younger sibling of one Christian Cage. Anyways you are the most important person to Jeff. You are his best achievement. He never thought he'd get you to date him when you are more attractive and way out of his range, at least those were his words. Of course, that was something you and Jeff would argue about when brought up since neither of you could agree.

You have never seen Jeff get jealous so you believed he wasn't the kind of person that got jealous but that changed. To you, the conversation you were having with Edge was normal and common for your friendship but Jeff didn't know this. Jeff thought Edge was flirting with you. How? by the sly smirk on Edge's face and the way, his hand was resting on your arm.

This made Jeff feel something he hasn't felt in a long time. Jealousy. Let's just say jealous Jeff is actually likely to fight someone. Now Jeff tried to stay calm. He watched you and Edge, well more Edge than you. The glare on his face was obvious to anyone who could see.

Now Jeff could walk over to you and Edge and make it clear that you two are together but there's one small problem with that. You and Jeff hadn't gone public so he couldn't. Except Jeff had a plan. Once better than just going over to you. Let's just say Jeff's plan was definitely going to get him yelled at by you.

Jeff walked to the gorilla and told the people there to play his music. They knew something was going to happen so they did. Jeff went out and straight to the ring and gestured for a mic. Once he got one he looked around for a minute before starting a rant about certain things. One of those was people flirting with you but he didn't directly mention you. Regardless of his feelings, he was going to try his hardest and keep the relationship private.

Matt and Christian ran to where you and Edge were once they saw what Jeff was doing. Matt was the first one to say anything. He didn't say much just "Jeff is in the ring, go stop him before he says too much." Christian grabbed Edge and pulled him out of earshot so they could talk, but that was not important.

Just like Jeff, you quickly went to the gorilla and told them to play your music but you didn't even wait. Once you walked out from backstage you immediately ran to the ring. The announcers and the fans were confused about what was going on. The first thing you say since coming out was "Jeff what is this all about?" Jeff wanted to say the truth but knew if he did then he was going to be in a lot of trouble. Jeff thought about what to say and decided to just say fuck it and deal with getting yelled at back stage.

Jeff was about to answer a lot of questions just by saying what he has been thinking. Jeff looks you directly in the eyes, the anger and jealousy being clear in his, and said "I don't fucking care. You're supposed to be mine." It all made sense now. Jeff was ranting about Edge being flirty with you and his anger about the situation with saying any names, the fans also figured this out. Looks like the cat is out of the bag.

Before you could say anything Edge and Christian came out with smiles that looked like they belong to Chester the cat. Jeff was confused but you knew what was about to happen. Edge was the first to say anything but it was directed to Christian "Well, would you look at that? Our plan worked." Christian nodded and turned his attention to you and Jeff.

"Little sib, did you really think you and him were doing a good job at hiding your relationship? Well, dear sib it was very obvious to anyone with a brain and two eyes. Maybe next time don't stare and drool over each other every time you're in a room filled with people." It was clear by his smile it was meant in a teasing way.

The two waved then turned and went backstage leaving you and a very embarrassed Jeff in the ring. You quickly got Jeff's attention and then rushed up the ramp and backstage. Jeff refused to look anywhere but at the floor. Of course, waiting behind the curtain were Christian and Edge looking at you and Jeff.

This time Christian spoke "I don't care that you two are together, I just would appreciate being told that my little sib is in a relationship with someone I trust. Just don't make me regret it Hardy." Jeff finally looked up and at Christian "I won't. I don't plan on doing anything to hurt them." That made Christian and told him what he needed to know.

Edge and Christian shared a look, silently communicating about something. At times like this, you believed they could communicate telepathically, but less than a minute later Edge looked at Jeff and shocked him "Oh by the way you don't have to worry about me taking little Cage from you. I've had my eye on a different cage for a while now and that isn't going to change."

With that Christian and Edge turned and headed for their locker room. Jeff looked at you and summed up his and your feelings "Don't get me wrong your brother and Edge are cool but I think they did go a little crazy". You had to agree with him. You and Jeff just decided to spend the rest of the day relaxing after explaining a little about the situation that happened in the ring, but at the end of the day everyone was happy and that's what mattered.

#wwe imagine #jeff hardy x reader #jeff hardy #jeff hardy imagine #The reader is Christian's younger sibling #Edge and Christian dating is hinting at

[tanis-fics]

Hypothermia

At last, Alan Wake escapes the Dark Place for good, but stumbles in the way out when an unnatural cold freezes over his very core. Luckily he's not alone this time, and the people he loves the most help him warm up.

Pairings: Alan Wake/Alice Wake/Barry Wheeler × Alan Wake/Alice Wake × Alan Wake/Barry Wheeler × Alice Wake & Barry Wheeler ♦ Words: 3215

[on ao3] ♦ [on squidgeworld] ♦ [read on site]

 What once was a fancy suit now was hardly distinguishable from the dark place he was trapped in, sticking, wrapping around his skin slick and wet like dark seaweed around an unsuspecting diver. Alan didn't know when he started shivering, when his hands gave up trying to take off the damned thing, when his eyes started losing focus and the newfound heartbeat started feeling slower and slower, but before the dark (not The Dark, but close enough to make him sick) could claim him hands shined in that darkness.

 They helped him. They always did. Alice loosened the noose of his tie and struggled with the buttons that appeared to be melted on the fabric as Barry took off everything else, layer after layer after layer. Alan didn't remember wearing those many layers, but the thing that was being peeled by his best friend could hardly be described as clothing anymore.

 Even as the last layer of thin film-like substance was removed from his body and quickly replaced by a dry towel he felt weak. The slick cold still stuck to his skin like a disease, and Alan feared the prospect of never getting rid of it, after so much struggle, after so many years. Gentle hands rubbed the towel against his skin, against his heavy wet hair, his bushy beard, long extremities too numb to try to do it on their own.

 He could hear them talking around him, voices floating aimlessly without him being able to catch them, but regardless Alan smiled weakly, almost feverish, at that. When was the last time his beloved wife and best friend seemed to be on the same page together? Vague threads of memory resurfaced slowly as the warmth of the towel started to sink in, echoes in the dark that could have been real as much as deceptive, and the mere fact that they could have had happened in the past decades without him knowing, without him being there, made a pit on his stomach. He had lost so much time with them.

 "Here you go, Al, drink this."

 Alan could only make a nondescript noise at the sight of a steaming cup of something, larger hands wrapping around his own as Barry helped him take the cup to his lips. Hot chocolate. Oh, it had been a while since he last had a hot chocolate, hadn't it? He almost chokes on the drink as grief threatened to close off his throat, if not for the sets of hands cupping his own and caressing his feeble neck.

 The warmth penetrated his body in small yet thick doses, down his throat and through his veins. It was uncomfortable, it almost hurt, too, but he took it in stride. With it Alan could feel some of his senses coming back as he held on tighter to the mug with his own hands, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it flow freely trough his lips, seeing the steam curl around in the air as it disappeared into the room... Which room was it? For a second Alan hoped, feared, to see his very own room in Parliament Tower, but they were clearly not in it. No, this room was smaller, both messier and emptier in a way that made him feel vaguely melancholic, with a framed photograph sitting on the other side of it.

 He recognized Barry immediately, like a mirage, but it took him longer to recognize himself at his side.

 Has he's even been in that room? In that house? Did Barry move? Did something happen? Alan couldn't remember. Was any of this even real?

 Before he could ponder further he felt the towel being taken off his shoulders, and even though it had grown cold with time a complaint escaped him nonetheless, finding a small comfort on the pressure of it. Such complaint died as soon as it started when he felt a different kind of warmth envelop him instead, arms slipping through his waist to wrap around his stomach, pulling him closer.

 Barry looked different from what he remembered, he wasn't too far gone to not realize something bad had happened despite the vague feeling that he should know exactly what, but in that moment, in that hug, he was the same old Barry Wheeler he knew and loved since they were children. A crushing hug with an excess of concern and anxiety that made him bark a weak laugh for the first time in a very long time. Skin against skin the remnants of his subnatural cold quickly extinguished as he shivered for entirely different reasons.

 To lay together to avoid the deadly cold, now that was an old cliché if he ever saw one. He would be lying if he said he never used it himself in one of his books, the appeal was clear, but he couldn't figure out how they could possibly imagine the situation applied here. Decades of continuous drowning in the Dark Place was not a mere case of hypothermia.

 Regardless, he leaned into it. Alan leaned into him in that tight space the same way he would wrap inside an old cozy blanket in a cold, cold winter night.

 Looking up for what it felt the first time he met the gaze of his beautiful, wonderful wife with surprise. As much as he could muster, anyway. Former apprehensions wanted to crawl up his skin with the slow dawning of the scene, feeling the comfortable warmth of his best friend's front and side enveloping him completely from behind, wanting to sink into it yet dreading the bickering that it might entice. But Alice's eyes reflected back only the profound love he was feeling at the moment, coupled with a deep sense of sadness directed at the scene.

 Before Alan could grab her hand and tug her into his aching arms, however, something else distracted him. Hot tears were rolling down his back to split where skin met skin, leaving a burning trail on it. Barry was crying, messy and snotty and pressing his cheek on his shoulder blades as he buried his hands on the hollow of his stomach.

 The memory of leaving him on the well-lit room flashed on his mind's eye, desperately trying to derive meaning as the loops and years built and crumpled like sandcastles on his mind. But he did remember leaving him for what he hoped wasn't the last time. And as he tried and failed to turn around to face him, Alan twisted enough to lean his forehead against Barry's head, wrapping a stiff arm around it to bring him closer than physically possible, his other hand grasping his tight embrace until his fingers hurt with the effort.

 Nudging the ever receding hairline with the tip of his nose, Alan couldn't help but smile when Barry cried harder. He had always been a bit of a crybaby, ever since they were kids.

 His burning cheek and fuzzy chest pressed tightly against his naked back were new. So were the heavy hands anchoring on his front as if he tried to keep him in that plane of existence all by himself. Knowing Barry, he probably was. He, however, didn't say a word as the mattress shifted under the added pressure of Alice, who silently joined the embrace and quickly warmed up the places that were left untouched, making a place for herself between his tucked legs and bare neck.

 Alan took a deep, shaky breath, swallowing on the verge of but not quite overwhelmed. This was so much better than the towel.

 Just like that he got swayed by the newer, kinder currents of hands, and warmth, and flesh, digits mapping skin that hasn't been kissed by the sun in a long long time, lips that tried to do its job instead. He nearly let himself be pulled under once again, not by a cold and dark ocean but a bright one, loving, when the memory of touch sparked slowly on his mind. It had been a while, hasn't it? He couldn't remember the last time he was touched like that, akin that.

 Except that'd be a lie, because he did remember.

 Flashes of touch, bright, and loud, got thrown into the mix that was his scrambled brain. Flashes of touch, and sex, and death, of holding a man holding him down, holding a gun. Blood dripping down his face blood dripping down from his face. Pulling the trigger. Kissing him. Tasting copper behind his teeth.

 Suddenly the calming contact burned his skin and Alan jumped further into the mattress, shielding his body and face with his arms, feeling shameful under the gaze of the woman he loved so, so dearly.

 "I'm... I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Mortification bloomed on his throat like icy water, replacing the newfound warmth inside of him. "I'm sorry, Alice, I- I..."

 Beyond the shield that were his arms he could see the confusion painting his loved ones' features, and he simply curled tighter when Alice tried to reach for him.

 "Hey," she said, reassuringly, as if talking to a frightened animal, "it's okay, Alan. You're here now, you're safe. We're both safe."

 "Y... yeah, but-" Guilt started dawning of him, of things done over and over again. He remembered now, seeking that same warmth with the one person who pulled him under again and again and loving every second of it. At least until their collaborations went too far, and he got twisted beyond recognition. Playing a sick character on a twisted fantasy.

 He rolled his ring with his thumb, his only real landline back when he could hardly retain anything that wasn't his fucking name. Not that it ended up mattered much, apparently. The feeling of sweat, and blood, and other fluids sticking grossly to his body like a stain he couldn't clean.

 "I... Alice, I cheated. I cheated and I, I've done worse. I've- I've done some terrible things, I-" The Taken didn't bleed, then why did he remembered so much blood on his hands? On his skin? Paired with the utmost certainty that it was all his fault. So much pain and suffering, all of it, he- He didn't deserve this, this love, he-

 Delicate hands grabbed him by the wrists, touch soft, yet firm, as they uncovered his panicked face and then made him look up. Alice held his face unflinching, with an alarming lack of surprise on her features beyond a knowing shadow on her eyes, a light crease on her eyebrows that he so wished to smooth over. Had he already told her that? Instead, she caressed his cheeks with her thumbs before leaning her forehead on his.

 "Alan." Her voice was clear, understanding, yet not lenient. He braced himself for whatever she had to say, already expecting anger, painful words that he could almost remember hearing with her voice, but reality wasn't as indulging. Alice nudged the tip of his nose with hers, the ghost of a smile gracing her features. "You're home. That's all that matters to me. That's all that matters, for now."

 The striking blue of her eyes was blinding and disarming, and as the tension left his body he couldn't help but sob. He felt like choking, but instead of angry tears against the cold wood they met his wife's hands and lips as she kissed his quivering mouth, over and over again before wrapping her arms around him. Alice was trembling too. Feeling her close, so close as she burrowed her face on the hollow of his neck and he clung to her back for the first time in a lifetime, he could easily feel her trembling as he cried.

 Behind the blood drumming loudly on his ears and the sobbing, however, Alan eventually heard a foreign sniffling, and despite the mixed feelings of guilt and death and love and gratitude he raised his gaze enough to look at his friend, sitting on the far corner of the mattress.

 Barry was drying what little was still wet of his face with a hand, looking anywhere but them to give them some space, and with an air of embarrassment. He lingered as if he had the intention to leave but couldn't will himself to do it, and if Alan was being honest, he didn't want him to.

 He couldn't remember more than bits and pieces, but he could remember that he forgot, forgot about Alice, her voice, her face; forgot about Barry, too. He might not deserve them, but he didn't want to forget them ever again, as long as he was alive. With a trembling hand he wrapped his fingers around his shoulder, calling his attention. His puffy eyes met him immediately, and something curious happened.

 He watched Barry watching him, watching Alice, and Alice shifted inside his embrace. Holding his breath and his tears for a second for an old-time sense of pride he could feel an implicit question in the air, and an answer he couldn't catch before his breath got knocked out from him by his friend jumping to join in the hug, throwing them out of balance in the process.

 Alan cried, and laughed, a relieved and wet squeak that somehow found its way around tangled limbs and tangled sheet, a warm cacophony strangled between the two bodies of the people he loved the most, holding him tight.

 Time kept ticking on the real world. Time wasn't a stagnant thing that echoed in it itself, a perpetual night that could last centuries. Here Alan could actually see the way the room changed color as sunlight touched his face, the walls and finally the ceiling, could feel Alice burying herself on her side with leftover fear as the yellow and orange tinge of the air grew darker, as Barry moved around the apartment in quick motion, reassuring him. (Reassuring them?)

 Alan wondered what he was doing, eyes closed sometime ago as the cathartic cry left him weak of mind and body. But as the light behind his eyelids slowly dawned it quickly got replaced by a myriad of colors, and that easily sparked a buried memory. He opened his eyes to christmas lights hanged high around the room.

 "Barry. Really?"

 "What? You never know when you're gonna need them." When he sat on the bed again he was wearing an old band shirt, one that Alan swore seemed familiar. "They actually made a show about that, you know? You have to watch it sometime."

 Alice groaned. Alan smile widened, sleepy yet curious, less so about whatever show his beloved friend was talking about and more about her reaction. Have they had this conversation before? Alice never seemed to be completely at ease when Barry was around, back then, but now...

 Well.

 If Alan had any piece of mind he might have actually been surprised to his own almost complete nudity, and the lesser, yet still surprising amount of skin they both were seemingly comfortable showing around each other, but he was beyond any of that at the moment. Sleep wanting to join their embrace as he clung to consciousness, to the people around him that he didn't want to part with, didn't want to sink back into darkness despite the treacherous yawn that escaped his mouth.

 Around him Barry chucked, and Alice nuzzled the side of his face with a smile that tickled his skin, before cupping his cheek and peppering him with kisses. Alan was too exhausted to answer, humming instead, long and deep. She really wasn't helping... feeling his friend's hand on his hair, starting to mess with it before combing it with his fingers, didn't help either.

 "Hey Al," Barry started, mocking smile tainted by fondness, "have I've ever told you... you remind me of a cat? A big, cranky cat."

 He huffed an indignant noise, bluffing an annoyance that he couldn't muster to feel, not now, with Alice's surprised laugh pressed against his skin.

 "He really does, doesn't he?" Alan wanted to argue, yet he couldn't do more than melt against her hand as it slid down his cheek and beard, mapping the hollow of his neck and collarbone, caressing each and every muscle like a precious thing. The motion sparked on his mind the image of a cat sprawled at length, purring loudly as multitude of hands groomed him. Unfortunately, he saw the resemblance.

 "He's knocked out cold, huh? Can't even defend himself..."

 "Well, he must be exhausted... He's been through... he's been through a lot..."

 "Yeah, no shit... Wait, you-?"

 "Mhm."

 Sighing heavily, he started resigning to his sleeping fate lulled by their voices, only tangentially aware of their conversation. He had been through a lot. He could feel it on his aching bones.

 "How... What was it even-?"

 "It was Hell."

 The silence was deafening, then, prelude of memories being drowned by the drag of skin and the flickering of colored light.

 "I..." The lips on his neck hesitated, before Alice shifted again, laying her head on his chest. "I am sorry, by the way. I really am."

 Pressed at his side he felt Barry tense a bit, and Alan finally, finally croaked, confused at the lingering apology.

 "'bout what?"

 Both heads turned to face him, in unexpected surprise.

 "About..." Alice's gaze jumped between them, before smiling a rather sad smile. "Well, the things I did. And the things I, I had to do. I'm sorry about everything I had to do."

 Alan had no idea what she was talking about, but with the very last bit of strength he slowly shifted and held her even closer to his chest. Nothing she could ever do would be as terrible to warrant such sadness on her eyes. Alice held on tighter, holding her breath.

 At his side, Barry shifted too, eventually. Face now smooshed against an arm that didn't have any more energy to embrace him properly while he wrapped his own around his stomach, like the world's worst giant pillow, before doing something that surprised Alan even in the state he was in. While his arm laid around him his hand reached further, giving Alice's arm a light squeeze before keeping it close by. The reply to that was a simple smile, and a calmer exhale.

 As everything he's seen since he got out of the Dark Place, Alan wondered about that gesture too. He'll have to ask them to fill in the details when they had the time, for he did not trust his own looping and tainted memory. What was real? What was a nightmare, a fabrication, or wishful thinking? He needed to hear it from them. He needed to hear everything.

 But they both waited so much time for him, he could wait some more for them.

 For now, Alan simply laid there inside the embrace of the two people he loved most in the world, bathed in the flickering christmas light. The coming darkness when he finally closed his eyes was dulled by the faint colors, former ache on his bones lulled by the human warmth that surrounded him now. Between feeling the rise and fall of their breathing and hearing their lingering conversations, for the first time in many, many years, Alan Wake was able to sleep in peace.

#alan wake #alice wake #barry wheeler #wakeswheeler #wakewheeler #alanalice #alan wake (character) #alan x alice #alan x barry #alan wake fanfic