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cuppimagines · 5 months

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A Jolly Odd Christmas- Chapter 001, The Factory

Chapter 1 is now live! Every 5 days I plan to update this fic all the way to Christmas, and so we have the 1st chapter up and running!

As a quick reminder before you continue, this is an nsfw story, there will be some hammy cheesy sex in each chapter, so this is exclusively 18+, with that out of the way, I hope you enjoy!

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“....Hello? Can I come out?”

…

Nothing.

You were just wheeled in…somewhere. And you were just barely allowed to peek out of the present as you were wheeled into this…office of sorts. This started out with you thinking that this was some weird prank or even worse some sorta fucked up Christmas themed kidnapping. But this place is way too big, and there are way too many elves just roaming about working for you to really say that this was all fake.

You just sat in the box for a few minutes, your legs crossed sitting in semi-darkness. You really hope this is sorted out soon.

Just then, you heard a door opening, and the sound of someone walking past you.

“You can come out now, the door’s closed.”

Very slowly, you peeked out the box, and then fully emerged from it, though sadly…it was a little bit too tall for you to just climb out of. You were in some sorta office, but an office made for people significantly shorter than you. It was very nice and neat, the desks and cabinets made of very ornate well decorated spruce wood with a little miniature christmas tree situated next to a rather out of place computer. Mr. Cedar was there as well, holding a rather tall coffee cup, sitting at his desk.

“So…we need to figure out how to sort…all this out,” he said, looking at you. “First off, tell me your name, human.”

“U-uh…my name is y/n…” you answered.

“Alright then…let’s see…” Mr. Cedar turned his computer on and went to work looking for you. He furrowed his brow, and then looked up at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Hm…you’re quite the scandalous one aren’t you?”

“Wh, what do you mean by that…?” you asked.

“Oh with your wishlist, more and more adults have been wanting these sorts of devices…” Your cheeks felt hot when he mentioned that.

“I-I didn’t even write a wish list!” you tried to reach up over the box to look at him. “How do you even know what I want?!”

“It’s pretty much a guessing game, the same way we monitor the nice and naughty list for children, for anybody older we simply monitor not only their behavior but their desires for the year. But…this is odd. Because looking up your name also brought me to someone who wanted you, specifically. As in they wrote a wish list requesting you.”

“Can you tell me who…?” you asked nervously. “I don’t wanna be delivered in the hands of some weirdo or stalker.”

“Alright then…” Cedar went to read the wishlist. “It says here…’I miss y/n so fucking much, I shouldn’t have left them please oh please I just want you back I’m so sorry.’ Hm, sounds drunk here.”

“Oh…oh is that my ex…?” you sighed, watching as Cedar turned the screen around so you could look. Yep. Yep it was your ex.

“I don’t know how, but somehow the wishlist registered this as a legitimate request, and since we can’t just clone you, something in the machine might’ve gotten you here, that will need checking…”

“But why the hell would he even request me?” you asked. “HE broke up with ME.”

“I don’t know, it’s your relationship,” Cedar sighed. “But, I think it’s best we investigate this error, and see where we can house you until Christmas Eve.” That part shocked you a little bit, and you tried even harder to climb out of the box.

“Until Christmas Eve???” you asked, finally hoisting yourself up, before the box began to tilt and you started to fall over. Just before you did, Mr. Cedar seemed to have gotten up just in the knick of time and caught you. You looked up at him in surprise. For someone so small, he seemed to have a bit of strength for his size. And his grip seemed strong too.

“Wh-why can’t you send me back now?”

“Well…unless we figure out how you were sent here, there is only one way back to earth, and that is when Mr. Saint Nicholas himself rides out to deliver gifts. That gate takes a lotta energy to open and close, and to just open it for one person to walk through…and then open again for the big day, we might have another blackout like the one back in 1972.”

“Gate…Earth…I’m not even on earth…?” you looked a bit light headed, and Mr. Cedar frantically pulled you out the box once he took notice.

“Good heavens good heavens…!” Cedar cringed. “Yes yes I know! I know this is a lot to take in but trust me this is out of my goddamn hands. If I had a hand in this I’d just kick you back out from where you came. But these are rules, and right now things are extremely hectic, this is the busiest time of the year for me so if you can…” He clasped his hands together, looking at you with a bit of desperation.

“...PLEASE just keep calm? I will get one of the managers on it to help you, and you will be back home as soon as I can possibly make it.” That…did not really comfort you at all. At most you’d be missing for 3 weeks. You knew family and friends would be looking for you. However…you saw the way Mr. Cedar looked. You knew that look. Tired, overworked, stressed out due to a large project where the end couldn’t be any sooner.

“Uh…your name is Mr. Cedar, yes?” you asked. “Can I ask, are you uh…okay…?”

“Well…well…” Mr Cedar slumped back down in his chair, holding his head in his hands. “500 years of this and I still can’t cope with stress…”

“What is your job here exactly…?”

“Well…I’m in charge of looking over the entirety of the workshop here. Every single gift is made here, gets sorted, and then gets packaged to be sent off on Christmas. There is a board of managers below me, 7 of them to be exact, but as the oldest I am the head here and take the most responsibility.”

“I might be stepping out of line by saying this…” you sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “But with something of this scale, don’t you feel like you should either get more managers or pawn off more work to more folks?” Cedar looked up, and he looked extremely angry at just you suggesting that sort of thing.

“How…dare you undermine the work I have done?” he stood up out his desk, slowly approaching you. Someone this short you wouldn’t be so intimidated by, but his presence…it was something unique.

“I have been a VERY important worker under Mr. Nicholas since before the PRINTING PRESS was widely used! I am the ONLY man he can rely on, and if I were not here things would fall to shit! I can’t just give my work to other people who don’t know him the way I do! And for you, an outsider to give your opinion on it…!” he was now mere inches from your face. You could feel him breathing heavily from anger and frustration, and you practically saw a vein about to burst. However, his eyes for a brief second wandered downwards, specifically right down into your pajamas. They were buttoned up, but loose, and the shirt at any angle could allow someone to stare right down your chest. Cedar noticed, and immediately he backed away, specifically turning his back to you and adjusting his glasses. You tilted your head a bit. Something seemed to have changed his tune, but you weren’t exactly sure what.

“Er…since this is an emergency, and has some level of severity, I suppose I can relocate some of my work…” he said, sounding a lot less angry, and almost nervous and flustered. “It’s best that the less people know about your presence the better. After all, The folks here aren’t exactly all sugar plums and spiced ham. If you’re familiar with some…folklore, you know that there are those out there who love the taste of human…”

“Uh…well…I kinda am…aren’t those just fairytales?”

“My dear, you are sitting in the main hub of all that is Christmas cheer and merriment. These people exist. And since Mr. Nicholas has been on guard to protect Earth from incidents involving any sorta child or adult eating…these very same people are hungry for a taste of flesh again.” Mr. Cedar turned his back to you yet again.

“Especially that man…” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that…?” you asked.

“Nothing, nothing. Anyway, I will send a few emails, and so you simply wait here and get comfortable.” Mr. Cedar pointed to a door over to the left of the room.

“I practically live here during the whole of December, commute times eat up important work time after all. That area leads you into my temporary living quarters. You can relax there in the meantime.”

“Hm, convenient,” you said, even if you nearly had to duck to get inside. It seemed simple, almost like a hotel room. There was a bed, a night stand, a closet, and another door to the side, might’ve been a bathroom. But it was all neat and clean.

The second Mr. Cedar closed the door behind you, you went to the bed there and sat, head in your hands, running them roughly through your hair. Oh you were stuck here. Stuck here for three weeks, and the only means to get out is completely out of your hands. Ohhh this was the worst…!

“Stuck here…stuck here for three weeks…” you muttered to yourself. “It…it could be worse I guess…least it’s somewhere…” you gave a very brief peek out the window, and your eyes were wide. Looking out at this window, was the 8th, maybe 9th story of a massive building, looking down at a city filled with lights, snow, and Christmas decorations as far as the eye could see. No, it wasn’t Christmas decorations, it was Christmas architecture. The concrete was red and white striped, elves, deer, and even a polar bear or two were just casually walking the streets. A train was leaving as the train tracks were nearby, and it seemed to be heading to a station not far from here. Most importantly, in the distance however, atop a hill you could see a massive mansion lit up by lights aplenty, and guarded by a massive gate. You could’ve put two and two together. A massive town whose entire purpose was being in charge of Christmas? Santa lived there, most definitely. Your eyes sparkled, you were amazed and in disbelief at the same time. Wherever you were was wonderful, beautiful even. If in better circumstances, you’d take the time to enjoy this more.

You stood up to take a quick peek at the other door. Oh, it really was a bathroom. You wanted to use it, you were just in sweaty pajamas after all, but figured it would be better to ask permission first, so you poked your head out of the room.

“Uh…Mr. Cedar…sir? Can I use your bathroom…?”

“Yes yes go ahead,” he answered, not even looking at you. Seemed he was too focused on his work at the moment to even care about your question. So you shrugged and went to take a shower. Like everything else, it was a bit of a small fit, definitely not furniture made for anybody five feet or taller, but you managed. Your pajamas were the only change of clothes you had, so you folded them to the side and turned on the shower. Sitting in the bath, you let the warm water hit you, and your body started to relax a little bit. Things could be better, but sadly there was nothing you could do. Your family, your friends, they might be missing you at this point…and maybe your ex might be missing you too, but it didn’t make sense. Maybe he had a change of heart and wanted to reconcile, but you weren’t even sure if you wanted to get back with him. So being his present…not something you’d want.

After your bath, you toweled yourself dry and leave the bathroom to get dressed after realizing you indulged a bit too much in the hot water, and you felt a little bit too steamy.

You went to get redressed, and might’ve realized your mistake when you heard the door open just as you were about to step into your pants.

“I finished all the work, things should be ready in-” Mr. Cedar paused. You paused. You were for the most part, naked, and nearly forgot that this wasn’t your private hotel room. Mr. Cedar grew bright red and hot, and he tried to look away so you couldn’t see how flustered he was.

“O-oh yeah you uh…you needed the uh…the shower…” he said. You covered your body with your towel, standing up off the bed.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’ll go back…in the…” Oh…oh you noticed something…Mr. Cedar had already had a significant tent in his pants, and for his size…oh he seemed a bit too well endowed, and it didn’t help that he wore tight, tight pants.

“Do you uh…do you need to take care of…that…?” you pointed down at his pants, and Mr. Cedar looked down in pure utter shock.

“Good heavens this hasn’t happened before-! I-I mean it does but not like this and uh…and uh well! You have quite the figure, and to be honest I like meeting uh…folks as vertically gifted as yourself- I MEAN-!” You looked at him incredulously, the poor old man seemed to be too flustered to form a proper sentence, but that was a lil cute to you. You sighed and smiled a bit.

“We all have needs, pretty sure you saw what I wanna get for Christmas anyway,” you waved your hand a couple times. “I know we, er, just met, but if you need help…”

“Yes-!” he interrupted you quickly, but cleared his throat. “I-I mean…if you are so gracious to help me with my problem, it’ll help me get back to work as soon as possible so uh…could you please lay down on the bed for me…?” You did so, leaning back, though the bed at most seemed only slightly bigger than a twin sized bed. You took your towel off your body, dropping it onto the floor as you simply sat there, completely naked in front of Mr Cedar.

He looked like he was about to light on fire from the way he was looking at you, and with a bit of a skip in his step, he went over to the bed, undoing his pants as quick as his shaky hands could muster. You tried your best not to look so shocked, but seeing Mr. Cedar pull out a near foot long, thick, throbbing cock, that got your eyes wide and a hand over your mouth.

“Jesus fuck…” you muttered to yourself. And he was already completely erect, just from looking at you naked. Poor fella must be pent up.

“Your legs…your thighs…oh they’re so long…!” Mr. Cedar grabbed your legs, pressing your thighs together in his grip. “I-I promise I won’t be too rough on you, my dear…!” He was shaking, beads of sweat were trickling down his forehead. There seemed to be a dam inside him that was nearly about to burst from the way he was still trying in vain to keep his composure in check. With your thighs in his grip, he propped one knee up on the bed as you could feel his cock slowly push against your thighs.

“So…so soft…!” you watched as his cock peeked out from the other side of your thighs, and simply stay there as Mr. Cedar focused on the feeling of your soft, warm thighs on his cock. Slowly he began to thrust, moaning softly while he was pleasuring himself against your thighs. You could feel him pick up the pace, and this time with each thrust you felt his cock rub up against you, brushing up against your clit, spreading your folds apart with just his size alone. Your body grew hot, and you couldn’t help but let out a few soft moans alongside Mr. Cedar’s shaky, breathless moaning and whimpering.

Mr. Cedar looked like he was about to crack. He had a horny, excited grin on his face, and his forehead was soaked with sweat, not to mention the sheer amount of precum dripping onto your stomach. His grip on your thighs were even tighter, like you’d crumble if he ever let go, and you just might crumble from the way you felt. The friction got you excited, and you could feel yourself grow more and more soaked, which got all on Mr. Cedar’s cock, mixed with his own precum.

“Oh god…ohhh good fucking god your thighs are ethereal!!” Mr. Cedar moaned loudly, leaning forward and pressing you down on the bed with the small amount of weight he could muster. He moaned and cursed under his breath, keeping your thighs together so tight that the friction might make him sore after this, but he didn’t care. He was just immersed in how you felt, how soft you were, your nice, long legs and soft plush thighs…anymore of this and he was going to…

“A-ah!!” he cried out, body shuddering as he came not only on your stomach. Your face and chest were splattered in his seed, and you were surprised just how much there was, let alone that in his excitement he came so soon. Mr. Cedar let go of you, letting your legs fall, but from the look in his eyes and the way his glasses fogged up, he was far from done with you.

“R-ride me…please…” he begged. He was still hard, and his cock was still resting on your stomach. You were still getting over just how messy Mr. Cedar had made you already, but with a flustered grin, you got up off the bed to let Mr. Cedar lay down.

“Are you sure you want me to ride you…?” you asked. “I’m a lot taller than you are…”

“I-if the lovely frame of a human was enough to kill me, I would’ve been dead long ago,” he replied, appearing almost smug after saying that. “Now please my dear, sit on my cock, do not hesitate to be truly, completely rough on me! My body can handle you just fine!” In excitement, he reached into his nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, and you looked a bit confused. He didn’t seem the kinda man to have that given how…busy he was. He saw your expression and scoffed.

“It’s always nice to have a little bit…you know just in case…” he grumbled to himself, pouring it onto his shaft and slowly rubbing it. You decided you wanted to help, grabbing his cock and pumping up and down in very slow, very careful motions. Mr. Cedar let go, hands to his sides watching you stroke his cock. He looked both extremely pleasured, and unsure if all of this was just…fake. Like somehow this was all a very vivid dream he was having, and he was waiting for his alarm clock to blare in his ears. But there was no sound, no sudden waking up to the morning light. Just your soft, gentle hand stroking his cock, and your pretty eyes looking at him for approval.

“You’re…you’re quite the catch, aren’t you…?” he moaned. “Can’t believe your ex is missing out on this.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and leaned over to kiss Mr. Cedar on the cheek.

“Hey, don’t mention him, ‘kay?” you asked, lifting your hips up, just hovering over the tip of his cock. It was still pretty big…it seemed a lot for you to handle, and yet it was so, so inviting all the same. Slowly, carefully, you lowered yourself down on Mr. Cedar’s cock, shuddering as you felt yourself being stretched out by just how thick he was.

“A-ah…oh god…” you moaned softly, grabbing onto Mr. Cedar’s shoulders for support. He guides your hips down on his cock, but his grip was tight, and his whole body seemed to be shaking from excitement and pleasure.

“You’re…you’re amazing…!” Mr. Cedar moaned. “I haven’t felt anything like this in years~!” In the excitement and pleasure of all this, you could feel him slam you down on his cock, all the way to the base, and from the sudden sensation, you let out a gasp, whimpering with your back arched. Oh he was big…! You leaned forward, moaning and grinding yourself against his cock to get used to his size.

“Oh-oh no, did I hurt you?” Mr. Cedar asked, concerned and stroking your back. “I’m so sorry if I- I…!!” Then you began moving your hips a bit faster, raising them up and slamming them back down on his cock. Mr. Cedar didn’t expect that in the slightest, and once he felt your weight on top of him repeatedly slamming back down on the bed and smothering him…it was incredible. He brought his hands back up to your hips, guiding them and helping you move at a quicker pace. And it wasn’t just good for him, you could feel his passion, his neediness and deep, desperate desire for pleasure. It was enough to nearly make you dizzy from pleasure the rougher and rougher Mr. Cedar got with you.

The bed began to creak, you tried to hold onto the bed frame for support, but you can see it shaking and warping under both your weights together. Mr. Cedar even looked a bit winded having to support your weight with his much smaller hips, but he was so engulfed in pure pleasure that in this moment, nothing else mattered except making you both feel good.

“D-don’t be afraid of being too rough…!” Mr. Cedar moaned, grabbing your hips tighter just to force you to ride him faster. “I can take it! I can take all of it…! And I can take your beautiful, beautiful body…!!!” Try as you might, now you were raising yourself off his cock just to repeatedly and roughly slam back down onto him, and Mr. Cedar nearly bounced off the bed completely from your weight on top of him. Your knees felt a little weak, in fact your entire lower half felt like you were gonna go numb after this, but it felt so good, and you were so, so close. Both of you were reaching your climax, cause all of a sudden, Mr. Cedar grabbed you and held you down firm, thrusting his hips up into you with rough, desperate vigor.

“Gods…gods…oh sweet heavens you’re amazing!!” he cried out, grabbing so tight onto your hips and ass that you could feel those bruises forming. Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head, your body felt hot and the feeling of Mr. Cedar so so deep inside you made you tip over the edge. You clenched around him, moaning out loud as you soaked his cock in your cum, and in turn, you could feel his cock twitching and pulsing inside you as it pumped ounce after ounce of cum deep, deep inside you. It felt so warm, practically hot, and you were a bit dizzy and dazed from all that, falling down onto the bed– and Mr. Cedar, by complete accident.

“S-sorry!!” you quickly got up off of him, but Mr. Cedar looked almost…unresponsive.

“Uh…Mr. Cedar…?” you nudged him a little bit. Silence. His glasses were fogged up and he looked dazed and glassy eyed.

“I’m dreaming aren’t I…?” he mumbled. “You’re not real…just a figment of my imagination…” You sighed and pulled yourself away from him, sitting next to him in bed to catch your breath.

“Oh come on now, we both gotta face that this isn’t all a dream,” you said, almost laughing at him. Mr. Cedar sat up, gaining his senses and looking over at you. Naked, sweaty, covered in his cum, and so so beautiful.

“I uh…do you need help cleaning up…?” he asked. “I know you just showered, but it would be rude of me not to care for you…you did after all show me an amazing time.”

“I would actually prefer a drink…that actually got me a bit winded…” you smiled. Such a short time together, and yet seeing you smile like that made Mr. Cedar’s heart skip a beat. His first time being intimate in so long…and with literally a person he’s dreamed about for way too long. You went to the bath, and Mr. Cedar grabbed a robe from his closet, when all of a sudden he heard a knock at the door. Ah! Seemed like one of the guards might be here with a message.

“Yes…?” He answered the door. One of the nutcracker guards was there, kneeling so they’d be eye to eye due to being a massive 7 feet tall in comparison to the average elf.

“I’m here to escort the ‘present’ to a safer location, as requested from one of the managers,” the guard answered. Mr. Cedar thought he’d be happy to know that this issue was going to be out of the way…but…part of him did wish you stayed at least a little bit longer after that. But no matter…he had to keep professional.

“Of course, give me a second and I’ll retrieve them,” he closed the door, waiting until you came out, now completely dressed back in your pajamas.

“My dear! Great news! We have a nice safe location for you to stay until the night we send you home!” Mr. Cedar told you. “And now there's a decent means of discrete transport, standing right outside the door!”

“Oh yeah…?” you yawned. “I apologize for uh…making a request, but can I travel tomorrow morning? I’m actually a bit worn out.”

“Of course, of course! So sorry!” Mr. Cedar almost seemed…extremely excited hearing that. “My bed is free for you to use, but…” he went back into his closet for a spare set of sheets. “Here, cleaner sheets, and I’ll get you that drink, just water or would you like something special?”

“Just water, thanks a lot.” Mr. Cedar left the room, and you went to change the sheets. Once the bed was made you realized you felt like a rock about to tumble down a hill, you were truly completely tired, and even if this bed was just a little bit too small, it was so so inviting, and all you wanted to do…

…Was to just fall into a deep, deep sleep…

…At least that’s what you planned.

How long were you out? An hour? Maybe too, suddenly, you were awake, just as the glowing eyes of a large wood and metal man was staring down at you. Oh…on a giant nutcracker. This was the guard Mr. Cedar was talking about.

“It’s cramped in here,” he said. “But come with me, the workshop is closing down for the night.”

“Huh…? Already…?” you yawned.

“Yes,” the middle of the guard’s chest opened up, showing a small storage area inside, and out popped a white fur coat, one that seemed to be fit for your size instead of an elf’s.

“I was instructed to guide you out of the warehouse, we have to make sure you’re not seen.” You were picked up with ease, and escorted out of the room back into the main office. Mr. Cedar seemed to have fallen asleep right at his desk, looks like he cleaned up while you were asleep and went back to work. The coat was placed on you as well as a hat and earmuffs, so you were bundled up so well that it was hard to discern exactly what you looked like.

“Come with me,” the guard instructed.

“C-can I say goodbye to Mr. Cedar first?” you asked. You weren’t going to see him again after all…

“No, it’s time sensitive that we leave now,” you were nearly pushed out, and you looked back at the sleeping Mr. Cedar with a frown before leaving. It looked like the halls were completely empty. Only people left were other large nutcracker guards patrolling the area, and they didn’t pay either you or the guard any mind.

After a long, slow elevator ride, and a dark, silent walk down a back hall, where there was not another elf in sight. However, once you were out in the cold, snowy outside, at the back of the factory, you noticed something odd about your transportation.

The guard guided you to a sled, with very large, dark gray reindeer with massive, gnarled horns like rotting old branches. Inside the shed, waiting, were two other men. They were elves…you think. Both of them had the appearance of blue, frostbitten skin, and gnarled white and gray hair. One had two wooden prosthetic legs, and the other was rather burly for his size, and was finishing up a sausage roll.

“You got the package?” one of them asked.

“Yep, now get in,” the guard instructed you. You looked hesitant, looking at the sled, and then looking at the guard.

“You guys…don’t seem to be working for this place…” you muttered. A brief pause was in the air, but suddenly the guard grabbed you forcefully, one hand over your mouth so you wouldn’t scream as you tried to struggle and kick out of his grip, but it was almost light being in a fist fight with a mechanical crane with how powerful he was.

“Get ‘em in! Hurry, we can’t let anyone see us!!” the “elf” with the prosthetic legs brought out some rope, tying your ankles together after forcing them in his grip, while the bigger guy got your arms and then put a cloth over your mouth.

“We’d be gentler but we know we’d get in trouble if we did!” the bigger “elf” chuckled. “Now c’mon, boss is gonna get cranky with us!” You tried to scream, tried to force yourself out of these bindings, but now that was gonna be even harder once the guard stuffed you in a roughly woven sack and tied it shut.

“Good job big fella…” the prosthetic “elf” walked up to the guard, to which the guard knelt down, and he took something off his helmet. A small blue sapphire, or rather a shard of ice that almost looked and felt much like a gemstone. At that, the guard went limp, closed his eyes, and fell right into the snow.

“Now then, let’s deliver this present to the boss!” Both “elves” got back on the sled, and you could feel the rough, rickety start as it left, leaving with you, and out of sight of the factory. You thought you’d be safe for the three weeks you were trapped here! And now you were going who knows where, and the only thing you could do inside this sack was struggle and try to break out of your binds. You had to have hope, there was some means of escape out of here. Something was going to happen and you could run away from these freaks and find a means to escape!

But…then what was next? Where would you run to? Would there be someone willing to help you once you found your way out of this?

All of this was becoming a nightmare all over again, but you had to cling on to whatever hope that you could get out of this safely.

#cuppimagines #nsft #nsft text #a jolly odd christmas

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pbandjesse · 10 months

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For some reason I have a cough. But only at home. I didn't cough at all at camp. I don't understand it. But it made my sleep last night kind of suck.

After I did my post I did some stuff around the apartment. Cleaned some critters from the frog tank. I poked around for a while. I had a yogurt. I texted James about how much I missed them. And I went to sleep.

But I had a lot of dreams. About dinosaurs? And a theme park? And I woke myself up coughing and was so tired. I woke up at 6 and was in and out for a while. But eventually my alarm went off and I got up.

I wasn't thrilled. I didn't feel great. But I would shake it off and honestly felt really cute and felt more like myself.

I left here and went to the Y. Jeniya was running late and literally ran towards my car when she got there. Again Dame didn't answer if he was coming. So after 5 minutes we left. He would text me later that he was sorry and he didn't feel good. I hope he's alright.

We got to camp on time. And I was thrilled when there was still scrambled eggs. Which made me feel a lot better. The protein was needed.

And I really enjoyed this morning workshop. We learned about diversity, equity, and inclusion and the speaker was awesome. Such a soothing voice and the presentation was excellent. I also got 4 squares done. Which brings me to 61 squares! I will have to pick up more yarn soon.

Celia forgot to set an alarm and was very stressed when she got there but it was nice to have a friend. Callie was there too but she was sitting with Annabelle and I was feeling weirdly isolated today. It would get better when I was back in my space but I was struggling being in the whole group and feeling very much. Alone.

Lunch was kind of not fun. The workshop was over at noon and I had my class with the feildtrips group at 1. Which was fine but I wasn't sure about lunch. If it wasn't worth it, like if it wasn't a food I wanted, I would just go work up in the art building.

So I waited until 1230. They started putting things out and I was like. Let me go ask about the vegetarian option. Which is what we have been told to do. So I go in and gave an absolutely bizarre interaction. The first worker was like oh ask the man in the back. So I do and he keeps asking me what group I'm with. I do not understand so I say I work at camp? And he's like but what group?? And I was like I'm not with a group? And he gets frustrated and says vegetarians are eating the same as the kids, a stir fry. And I'm like okay, thanks. I can clearly see onions, plus his tone upset me. Like tears immediately to my eyes. So I said okay that's fine, just checking. I have a class to go teacher. And left.

I stopped and just took fries, even though they didn't get everything out yet. I was mad and upset. And I just walked in the rain and ate my fries and tried not to cry.

I went to tell Celia, who was in the nature building cleaning, what happened. And she was like. That sucks. And I was like right? Telling someone made me feel a little better. But I decided I would also tell the office. Because we are supposed to be having vegetarian options that are the same as what everyone else is having. And Heather agreed that it wasn't correct and then Alexi said it might be a delivery issue. She said the onion thing she would make a note of. I just don't want to have an upset stomach. I'm finally starting to feel better after whatever hurt me on the 1st. I don't want it to happen again. Alexi said she might just have them make me special Jesse plate with no onions. Which makes me feel like I'm asking to much, but she said that I'm not asking, that she's offering. And it still makes me a little uncomfortable but we will see what happens.

My classes this afternoon were fun. The rain picked up and it was loud. But they all did so good! And learning sewing was so good.

The only issue was that one of the girls got into the new oil paint markers. And I was like oh please don't use those! They are new! And she went to put it back but in the two minutes they were being used a cap was lost. And I was just so bummed. They all spent ike 15 minutes trying to find it but it seems to be gone. Never even got to use them before that happened. I put the market in a ziplock so hopefully it'll be useable for a while. The little girl kept apologizing and felt really bad. And I was sad but I told her I don't hold any ill will. Things happen.

One little girl kept telling me I was a vibe and how cool I was and that was nice. She was struggling with sewing because she was clearly a perfectionist. But I got her through some tough moments and it made me feel successful. And the chaperones made a point of complimenting my patience. I have pretty endless patience for kids. It's just when a group is large and loud when I can't always power through. But I was happy and the group was happy and that was nice.

One of the chaperones also worked on making a pillow because he forgot his and that was very funny. He did a good job for his first time sewing!! Even if he kept trying to get me to do it and I was just like. No.

After they left me I went to check in at the office. And then it was just parent/camper open house tours. So I went up to the arts building and took a half hour break. I had a snack. I swept. I watched videos about the missing sub. They heard knocking on sonar today. They have less then 12 hours of air left.

I texted Celia and asked if she needed help. I would head down there and help her move the chickens around so she could change their hay. It smelled terrible. But I was glad to help. I also swept the building before heading back ho to arts.

I worked on some examples. And around 6 I texted Jeniya and asked if she was ready to go.

We left and the storm was getting bad. Peiplee ere driving terribly. In the middle of two lanes, swerving, turn signals on for miles. Plus my phone wouldn't connect to the car and so it was a quiet ride. We shared my snack. Talked about our moms and how important they are to us. And then I dropped her off.

When I got home James had stuffed shells for me. I was so happy to see them. I missed them very much. They would play DND while I laid on the couch. And eventually they joined me. I told them about my day. They told me about theirs. And eventually I went and took a shower.

Now we are in bed. Tomorrow I have my CPR and first aid class. The scary in person part. And then we are all sleeping at camp. I hope it's fun. I hope it's just a good time for all of us.

Sleep well everyone. Take care of yourselves. Goodnight!!

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igotmyionyou32 · 2 years

Text

\\Some highlights and a recap of my first day back for my junior year in american public school (Midwest) for my 2 mutuals. For timing reference my first period starts at 7:50 am.

Driving to school: A grown ass woman honked at me for trying to pull into the school parking lot. Not even a parent just a mean ass lady. Hoping she has a terrible day.

Homeroom: Was in wrong homeroom class and then was extremely anxious. Group of straight cis football men who for some reason think that we are friends kept saying hi to me.(I only refer to to their sexuality in this way because they are verbally homophobic and say faggot as members of society who have been explained to MULTIPLE times (by me) that the use of this kind of language by someone who is at the top of the food chain is gross and unnecessary). They do not care but will keep saying it over and over idc.

1st Period (Computer Science A): Sat in the wrong seat and had to move. Almost had a meltdown over ice breakers.

2nd Period (AP Environmental Science): I think I’m really going to enjoy this class. I have good amount of people I know/newish friends so I wasn’t too anxious and the get to know you form asked for my pronouns which always feels nice. Teacher already knew who I was because apparently my Earth/Space teacher had said good things about me. I also once showed her the pictures I took of the moon with my telescope (I do this often and always email them to my favorite female science teachers cause they are amazing).

3rd Period (Dual Credit Ivy Tech Solar System Astronomy) I am the ONLY one in my whole school taking this. So excited but it doesn't start until the 22nd cause its through a college. I just sat in the library and went and picked up parking permit from the office.

3rd Period/Junior class meeting: Sat with two of my best friends and goofed tf around just like last year and listened to why keeping the doors locked at all times is a better solution to school shootings than just not allowing guns??? Also no hats cause if you try to bomb the school they cant recognize you ofc. Love America so much.

4th Period. (Physics) Was very excited but the teacher is very sexist and a bit creepy. Just leaving it at that I’m not getting into it yet I’m still mad.

5th Period (AP Chemistry): Very excited for this course. Struggled a bit in honors last year but that’s cause I did not study lol. Fav teacher and its a small class. Very comforting to see my school mom after being stressed out.

Lunch???: Took like 12 mins to get my food (we get 30 mins to eat) takes me 8 mins to get there so I get to sit for like 10 mins in an extremely overcrowded room because they took away C lunch. (They were out of a vast majority of the food too).

6th (Pre-calculus/Trig Honors): Least fav class probably. I love math but I struggle with it and i was extremely anxious cause the friend I had in there was very loud (not her fault she can act however she wants) but it kept drawing attention to us and I felt dumb. Also I forgot my fav calculators so I was upset. Very nervous for this course in general. If anyone knows resources to help rebuild bad math foundations and teach yourself algebra 2 then i beg of you.

7. (AP Language): Very excited for this class. Teacher is hot and two of my best friends are in there. Goofed around. Half of the boys that were in my homeroom are in front of us but I feel better that my girls are with me. Very small class too and me and my friend can just walk to our cars cause we park next to each other this year and we can hang and just leave. Although not much hanging today because it was extremely hot and I had to work from 4-8. So since i got out at 2:40 and wait till traffic lightens up around 2:55 I had to book it home if I wanted to drop my shit off and grab a snack.

Overall Id say its not too bad but I’m really just focusing on mt grades this year and trying to actually learn since I’m taking courses in stuff I have actual interest in. I already have some notes and a lab tomorrow in ap chem so I’m gonna read and probably try to sleep. Hope everyone is having an amazing day and thanks for reading lol.

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automicbaseball · 27 days

Text

Opening Day 2024

Last Thursday the 28th was the first game of the year for the Mariners up here in the Pacific Northwest. Up against the Boston Red Sox for a 4-game series, the excitement was on high!

We have bought the flex pass two years in a row now, pay into a bank, and you can then buy tickets with the credit, without paying the tickethamster fees and whatnot. I like this deal, we went to about 20 games last year. There are often great deals for cheap bleacher, 300, or even 200 level seats.

I have been waiting for the season to start for a while now. Kept putting the spring training games on the radio while doing work and whatnot. I always feel better knowing thousands of people are enjoying the live spectacle at the same time as me. It's autistically comforting.

We took the light rail for the first time in a while. I love Seattle's public transportation system. Go to a park and ride, hop on the light rail, and we're dropped off about a 5-minute walk from T-Mobile Park. Great way to get some hot dogs, off-market merch, or just to down a beer before you get in.

I almost always come in the center field entrance with my partner. We like to walk around the field, get some sights, maybe find our seats in a timely manner. Being autistic, we tend to follow a specific plan usually; get seated, cool down the overwhelmed heat, get beers and snacks, then be ready for first pitch! I also have a plan for the goddamn metal detection and clear plastic bags; we always have water and snacks and things to do. My collar almost always sets the detector off, but I just walk through. Shrug!

Today we saw Nelson Cruz throw the first pitch, followed by a 1-day contract, so he could retire as a Mariner. I enjoy these little vignettes. Last year we saw the King, Felix Hernandez' Hall of Fame induction and it brings you to tears (and incidentally, my partner found a pic of their kidlet at a game the King was pitching in almost 10 years ago). I wonder, what it's like to be a retiring baseball player (or any sportsball); what do you do next? What happens if you're not a coach or talking head? How do you go on when your body cannot? I'd love for everyone to find their Ichiro Suzuki role, but alas.

There are many ways to enjoy baseball; talk and pay no attention, drink 10 beers, take meticulous score, wander, it's all a lovely spectacle.

This year we sat in section 328, just behind home plate off to the side of 1st base. I love the hanging sections where there are 3 rows just below the tunnel when you enter. I like sitting on the end of the rows and ideally where it's not hugely crowded, it's just a sensory thing. Last year we sat in 126 and it was crowded, plus the ceiling above us limited the view of the main jumbotron. Not my favorite.

Not to mention catching a meatball of a fucking man texting a picture of me to his friends, writing some horrible words to go along with it. I am a very high-sensory person; I'm always looking around, seeing things, evaluating my surroundings, and it felt weird to see a picture of me on someone else's phone. I kept very calm about it, took his picture, and get the box office to move us to much better seats.

As for the game itself, I don't remember a huge amount of it. We lost 4-6, and we left in the 8th inning to avoid the crowds (we had our kidlet with us tonight). Ate some garlic fries, drank a strawberry seltzer and a nice IPA of some sort. I also took some nice pictures here and there.

Anyways, thanks for reading, I hope to write a little more as I go through the season, about games we attend. I'm not a sportswriter, and really I'm not a writer either, but I have to get some words out. Just who I am.

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crazybigredlove · 2 years

Text

1st September 2013

Petey-Boy,

Happy Birthday!! First time that I haven't spent your birthday with you and admittedly it feels a little strange. Luckily there's a replica of you on the couch so I'm sure I can make do. Hoping that wherever in the world you are you're making the most of it.

Long time no write. Or call. Or email. Or text message. Or smoke signal. Or cave painting. It's starting to feel a little like maybe I'll never hear from you again. It would be nice if you could do something to address that. Feeling like all I do these days is moan about my love life and mention how it would be nice to hear from you again one day...

Career crisis. Not an exaggeration. Completely unbeknownst to me, Miranda was monitoring my every internet-based move at work. Forced to admit to behaving like a typical scorned woman in that I've been stalking all my ex-boyfriends as a way of dealing with the Big Red rejection. Lawyer Lucas has been getting some hardcore attention. Remember how he was hot back then? He got hotter. The greatest regret of my life is no longer failing in my quest to become a rockstar, it's that I didn't stay with him. Now a little ex-boyfriend stalking doesn't sound like such a bad thing, unless of course you have a boss like mine who takes delight in every opportunity to get angry at me. She pulled me into her office after lunch and honestly, I feel strongly that if she's going to get angry at me she should have to take off those ridiculous glasses that make her look like a bird.

"Liv, I feel we need to talk." Her eyes narrowed and she folded her hands in front of her on the desk. The corners of her mouth began to drop in what I think was disappointment but may also have been low blood sugar and/or a hunter limbering up before it takes down it's prey. Even though every person over age five and with only half a brain could work out this was one of those times to shut up and sit down, unfortunately my mouth continued to move.

"Sure, I mean I feel we talk a lot, but we could talk more if you wanted?" Shifting uneasily in my chair I was wishing for the millionth time in my life that I had been graced with a verbal filter. "Not that I'm really sure what else we could talk about, because from where I'm sitting, I feel like we already talk all the time and there's no need to put a formal talking policy in place." "We've been monitoring your computer usage."

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccck.

"Oh. Then I'm guessing we probably need to talk about that." "Mmmm. There seems to be quite a bit of time spent on Facebook. I went so far as to see what it was about Facebook that was so interesting. Seems it was mainly men you were looking at. Quite good-looking men I might add, but that does not detract from the problem that it is happening on work time and the quality of you work has experienced a decline recently. Who are these men?"

"Well," I begin and pause. My brain and mouth are competing right now. There's a war being waged over whether to blurt out whatever nonsensical crap I can come up with or whether to put at least two seconds effort into devising a cunning cover story. "Most of them are men I have dated. I'm just tracking their progress through life. Seeing how they're doing. Hoping that at least a shark eats one of them. Run over by a tractor. Crushed by a falling cow. Accidental implosion. That sort of thing."

Okay, so my mouth won.

It's hard to be certain, but the corners of her mouth seemed to be twitching, almost like she was trying not to laugh. "And you thought that the most appropriate time of day to do that was during working hours when you're being paid to write health and wellness articles?"

"Well, I can see why that might not seem like the best idea..." I begin strongly. "Bust mostly I did it during working hours because after I've written a killer article I need some down time to let go of the previous piece before I can launch headfirst into the next one. Sort of cleansing the palate if you will."

Her face softened as did her voice. "Liv, we've talked about this. I have been there. I have dealt with being the only single woman at the dinner party, or having your life not be what you thought it would be, and I can sympathise, I can. But I think if you're going to dedicate that amount of your day to stalking your exes it really should be in your own time. Either that or you need to consider whether this is actually where you want to be."

The crimson colour to hit my cheeks answers for me. And she watches me empathetically, a crinkle forming at her eyes. Then again that may not have been empathy after all though. It may have just been disappointment in herself at being the one responsible for hiring me. Staring at me silently and her face now awash with sympathy, I can feel her waiting for me to speak. "You're right, Miranda. From now on I'll ensure that my stalking is conducted in my own time."

"Liv, I'm going to be quite blunt with you. Your problem as I see it is that you have zero faith in yourself. Zero. I'm talking about all aspects of your life. Dating especially. Everyone in this office knows about your relationship woes. Have you ever walked away from a man before he walked away from you? Have you ever taken a chance on something for no other reason than because it's what you wanted to do? Do you ever actually make decisions or do you just settle for however things play out?" Cock my head to the side and stare thoughtfully at the ceiling as I try to conjure up at least one name from my past that fits that description. None are forthcoming so I move on to decisions that I've made. Then the silence gets too much. "That's what I thought."

"It's not that they all treat me badly or anything," I hear myself protesting. "That's not what I said." "I'm fussy and when I find one I actually like I tend to hang on long after they've gone because finding another one is soooo hard," I moan. "That's not really such a bad thing! Is it? I mean, I don't outwardly stalk them or hold on. I don't ring them constantly or turn up on their doorstep. It's a very passive aggressive resistance to moving on." "If they broke-up with you and it was a shock, or they tried to come back afterwards, then they have not treated you well. You are better than men like that." "Well, I mean, that's not all of them." "If they cheated on you or didn't call when they said they would, they have not treated you well." I puff my cheeks out, but I've lost. "Are there any that didn't meet those descriptors?" I shake my head. "It wouldn't seem so." "Move on. They aren't worth it."

I feel like I should salute her, but I know better. I settled for staring at my hands instead and biting my tongue against telling her that as my boss none of this is any of her business anyway.

Following that up with a stern talking-to regarding picking up my standard of work, it wasn't long before she had me agreeing to do my absolute best to get back to my previous standard (which was pretty mediocre as well if I'm remembering myself correctly) as soon as possible. She pointed out that hopefully that meant she wouldn't clock me staring into space for over forty-five minutes again. Earlier suspicions have now been confirmed: he is in fact a cruel, retired, Government spy determined to take me down.

Bitch.

Not really. I felt something akin to affection as I sat there talking it over with her. It was the kind of support that I imagine most women my age would get from their mother. I wonder where mine is? I should check my email.

After work I settled myself in to whine to Christopher about it.

"Why do you even work there?" "Who else would hire me?" "You're not a bad writer, Liv. You could find another job." "Is that cereal? I thought we weren't eating grains again."

"I'm eating the last of it. I'm not throwing out perfectly good food just because you want to start a new fad diet." "This isn't a fad though! There is irrefutable evidence." "Oh," he says through a mouthful of something that may be NutriGrain judging from how much the smell is making me salivate. "I agree with the research, I'm just not convinced you'll stick with it."

I punch him in the arm. "Jerk." "Get a new job. Apply for something. Anything. You might actually find a job you like." Spying the box behind him I reach round and promptly jam a handful in my mouth. "Do you like your job?" "Can you stop chewing before you speak? Please? Yeah I like my job enough. I get to help people and they pay me a truckload of money to do it." Shrug. "Why wouldn't I like it?" "You also get to meet lots of women." "It's a perk." "Speaking of which, why haven't there been as many round the house lately? Are you getting sick?" Picking up the box, he jams it into my hands. "Eat your grains. We have training soon."

Christopher had asked earlier in the week if he could join me today and I had a minor anxiety attack at him seeing how slow and clumsy I am. It was a little embarrassing having him practically walking while I was breathing as heavily as a phone stalker and dripping with sweat, but it was nice having him there. As we were getting ready to leave Dylan strolled in, smiling as always.

"Liv! How you been?" That smile always lightens my mood. "Not too bad. Still caught in a battle to the death with Cupid, but what can you do? This is Christopher, my housemate." Chris extends his hand with a curious expression. "Chris, this is Dylan. He's been my training buddy on the two or three occasions I've bothered to turn up in the last month." "Hey, you must be Pete's brother. Used to see him here a bit before he took off. Fuck, you two are identical."

"Yeah, that's me. I'm the replacement while he's away. How's she been going? Is she improving at all with her two sessions a month?" Dylan laughs. "Don't listen to her, she turns up more than that." "I know. I live with her. I barely listen to a word she says though because most of it is the Liv-version which never really correlates with reality."

Because I want to kick him it seems best to get him out of there. "Okay, well we were heading off. Enjoy your workout and I'll see you soon, okay?" "Looking forward to it," he says grinning at me before turning to Christopher. "Nice to meet you, Chris." Chris smiles back even though he stays silent.

We're halfway home when it starts. "You seriously don't learn, do you?" His voice is tight with anger, as if he has to force the words out, and he's fighting to keep from yelling. "Huh?" "Dylan. There is always a guy. You're always looking for the next one to screw you over. Fuck, Liv. Can you even meet a guy without flirting with him?" Shaking his head he sped up his pace, trying to get away from me. "Chris!" I called, hands in the air and face screwed up in pained confusion, but he didn't turn back or slow down. I let him go.

Got home just in time to answer the ringing phone. "Hello?" "Liv." Oh God. Your mother is calling from blocked numbers again and I didn't screen the call. "Hi. Um, I'm in trouble aren't I?" Collapsing onto the couch I brace for an earful that doesn't come. "No, you're not in trouble, Liv. But if something were going on between you and Christopher you would tell me. Wouldn't you?" "Yes. Why?" "I'm just checking." "I thought we covered this at breakfast the other day?" "We did. I'm making sure no one felt a need to change their story between then and now. Of course, I'm sure neither you nor Christopher would do something to ruin a friendship that is nearly thirty years old just because one or both of you was feeling a little lonely." "Of course not. Besides, he just yelled at me because I talked to a guy at the gym. He's insane."

"Oh, Liv. When will you learn? We'll see you both for dinner soon." The phone goes dead.

What is going on with your mad family? That was the longest day of my life.

Liv x

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lovesomenha · 2 years

Text

[Tutor. - Lee Heeseung]

[word count - 1.3K]

[18+, Minors DNI, Smut/Suggestive]

[warnings/genres-fem!reader, soft-dom!heeseung, unprotected sex (bitch, use a condom), oral reviving (f)]

I’m happy to be back and I hope u enjoy this one! :)

sitting down at the desk in the cold library, you almost fall asleep. the smell of old books and silent keyboard noises of the librarian create a calming atmosphere that makes you just want to sink into the textbook in front of you and fall asl-

“Y/N! Don’t fall asleep on me. Flip to page 24 please, we gotta get started”

and with a groan, you’re back to annoying life.

you look up to see your tutor, heeseung, sitting across from you. you knew he was there but you thought maybe while he was setting up you could get a minute of sleep in, guess not.

flipping the pages of your textbook, you find page 24 which is labeled “Homeostasis and Its relation to Ecosystems”.

“So, homeostasis is when an ecosystem is stable in its environment and when it…”

heeseung voice is blocked out by your own ears. you didn’t want a tutor, especially one this boring. yes, heeseung is a nice guy but he talks about things that are too knowledgeable for everybody else around him, and it's incredibly annoying. being pessimistic about situations really isn't your thing, but this tutoring thing is not good at all.

“Okay, quiz time! What organism shown on page 25 is in homeostasis?”

there's a moment of silence before you roll your eyes and close the textbook in front of you.

“Heeseung. Listen. I want to thank you for at least trying to help me, but I can’t do this. I’m too stressed even thinking about school and my grades and right now is just not the time. Maybe we can try tutoring later but this isn't going to work right now.”

heeseungs wide doe-eyes displayed shock as you were quite loud, and this is a library. you even got a dirty look from the librarian. gently though, heeseung put his hand on yours and made a motion that told you to sit down.

“I understand. Maybe it’s the setting? I can tutor you at my house, if that's less stressful..?”

here, looking at heeseung, something clicked in your brain. it's like you are seeing him in a different light, or maybe just paying more attention than normal. he has a nice nose, broad shoulders and he’s really tall. even when sitting down, he’s still quite a bit taller than you. also, he’s inviting you to his house? let’s not get ahead of ourselves but, maybe this could be good.

“Uh yeah! We can go right now, it’s only like four and I don’t have anywhere to be”

and with that, you and heeseung went off to his home. the drive there was incredibly awkward and tension-filled, but you got through it. after arriving, you both head inside and go to heeseungs bedroom. lucky for you, his parents both worked desk and office jobs, so they won’t be home for a little while.

his room was nice. it was decently clean and he had a giant, king sized bed. you both sat there as you again reviewed the science textbook. this time around, you really tried to understand the content because heeseung was being nice enough to let you de-stress at his house. you at least had to try. it worked too! you eventually understood all the concepts that you needed to learn. it was only 5:30, and at this point you and heeseung were just cleaning up and sorting all the papers that you went through.

“Thank you, really. this was way too nice of you”

“No, it’s fine! as long as you learned everything you were supposed to then i’m happy.”

again, there was that silence and tension. just like in the car.

“I'm gonna go get changed, just wait here.”

you watched him get up and go to his bathroom. though it was evil, you decided to take this chance to look around his room. besides, heeseung was a good kid, what’s the worst you could find?

first, under the bed. a whole lot of nothing except for some board games.

second, in his dresser. nothing except clothes, very boring.

third, the bedside table. 1st drawer? nope. 2nd drawer? nothing. 3rd drawer? oh my god.

you open your eyes wide at the sight before you. condoms, handcuffs, lube, etc. it had it all. you were shocked, slightly disgusted and very, very intrigued. you didn’t wanna touch anything so you shuffle around with your eyes to see what’s all in there. you guess it would be common for a teenage boy but jesus.

“What in the hell are you doing…”

and with that, you fucked up. slowly, you push the drawer in and turn around, facing heeseung.

“Uh..I just dropped my um…pencil, and was looking for it.”

you awkwardly laugh as you see him standing there, he looks different. maybe it’s because he wasn’t in his school uniform or maybe it was because he was angry, you couldn’t tell.

“You dropped your pencil in my drawer?”

gulping, you croak out a slight yes.

heeseung comes toward you, close enough where you can hear his heartbeat. he basically looms over you as he stares down. gentle, just like before, he puts his hand up against your cheek and rubs your face.

“I've always liked you a lot, you know.”

stuttering, you really don’t know what to say. the words are just not there and you are drawing a blank. whatever “magic spell” heeseung put on you, you liked it.

he puts his hand on your back and softly pushes you on the bed. at this point, you are laying down with heeseung standing right at your feet. he leans in, basically climbing on top of you, and gets close to your ear.

“Tell me you want this.”

trying not to whine from the sudden arousal, you nod a subtle yes which gives heeseung full permission to touch you. immediately, he kisses your lips.

it was like he turned into a whole different person. the heeseung who was shy and nerdy wasn’t there anymore. you kissed him passionately as he grinded into you. your school uniform skirt came up to reveal your thighs, which heeseung noticed. he layed off for a moment to help you get out of your shirt and skirt. you’ve had sex before, but not like this. it felt real and meaningful, so you were still a little shy.

“God, you’re so beautiful”

heeseung stood there for a second and admired you before dipping down and starting to kiss your thighs. he spread your legs open and slowly massaged your clit which made you moan softly. eventually, he got up to your pussy and started eating you out, doing laps as you moan slightly louder. the way he worked his tongue made you feel so good. he praised you too, and every moment wasn’t short of an “I love you” or a “My perfect girl”.

he came up and kissed you once more before taking off his boxers and lining up his tip with you. again, slowly he pushed in which made you moan in complete and utter pleasure. he felt so good inside of you and it worked so well together. it was like a missing piece of a puzzle. pushing in and out, you felt his length kiss your cervix over and over which made you want to orgasm so much faster.

“Heeseung, I’m gonna cum”

he sped up his pace as he bent down and kissed you again.

“That’s okay love, let’s cum together”

with his words, you both orgasmed at the same time which made you feel like you were seeing stars. heeseung pulled out and fell back, right next to you. all you could hear in the room was heavy breathing which was an indicator of how good everything just felt. annoyed, you speak again.

“Heeseung, you didn’t even use the condom in the drawer..”

he chuckles for a second and lets out a soft “sorry” before speaking again.

“We should tutor at my house more often.”

#Enhypen #engene #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #smut #Enhypen heeseung

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technowoah · 3 years

Note

Can I request a prompt #37 with Karl Jacobs? I love your writing btw :)

Ring(s)

The four times Karl tried to propose and the one time he actually did.

- Karl Jacobs x gen!neutral reader!

- Prompts: 37) "Are you proposing?!"

⚠︎ swearing, fluff, angst if you squint and a rushed ending. I didn't proofread either

an// TYSM FOR LIKING MY WORK 😭ALSO Thanks for requesting and sorry this came out so late! Hope you enjoy :)

To say that Karl loved you was an understatement. He adored you and practically worshipped the ground you stood on. He is so respectful, which is a major upgrade from your other boyfriends, and loves you for who you are. You didn't have to put on a facadè at all during the 3 years you two have dated.

This love wasn't a one way thing. You loved him just as much, or even more, than he did. Everything he did you supported, you were always cheering him on from wherever you were. You were here for the good and the bad, and he was too. You two never shyed away from admiting your love and support. You could write a essay on each thing you love about Karl.

The idea of marriage came up during a late night dinner at Denny's. The idea came so naturally to you, so it surprised Karl that you didn't tense up. Karl was tense when bringing up the topic of marriage, so when you said "Yeah, I wanna get married to you one day." so casually it caught him off gaurd.

You two had already talked about marriage time and time again, but this time Karl wanted to take the initiative. He was ready to get married and since the marriage talk was just a few months ago it was fresh in his mind. Karl could vividly imagine you walking down the aisle towards him looking angelic. He could see everything now and he wanted those daydreams to become a reality. He wanted to physically feel your hands against his as you two say "I do" to one another.

He couldn't stop thinking about settling down in a nice house with you. Karl already bought a ring for you and always has it with him. Now he justs needs to figure out how to tell you.

1st proposal: Fireworks

"THIS IS THE MOST EXPENSIVE FIREWORK IN THE ENTIRE WORLD-"

You blocked out Jimmy's yelling as you sat in a lawn chair in the middle of the woods. Karl had invited you to a MrBeast video shoot because he thought it would be a great early 4th of July. It was late at night and slightly cool outside, so you were wearing a MrBeast hoodie Karl was wearing earlier. You zoned out as the boys talked to the camera over and over again, taking multiple shots.

You found yourself looking at Karl most of the time you sat there and you always caught his gaze towards you. Every time you caught him looking at you, you sent him a small wave or blow him a kiss and every time he sent a shy wave back or sent a more exaggerated kiss back.

During halfway through the shooting you begrudgingly had to move your lawn chair further and further away from your original spot. Karl always checked up on you before and after each firework set were blown up. He has been acting fidgety around you and you didnt know why. When you tried to confront him about it he would always turn away and go back to the boys without a glance back, and his hands in his pockets.

You loved watching the guys play with so many different types of fireworks, this was a great 4th of July for you, but you wished that Karl was sitting next to you feeling the bliss that you were.

You were currently sitting behind bulletproof glass while the guys had a control panel on their lap. Karl kept sending glances towards you and you looked at him and smiled whishing he was next to you and not over by the guys. You knew it was selfish, but he invited you here.

Karl kept bouncing his leg, he kept his hand in his pocket which held the ring. He kept sending glances towards you, knowing he should be on one knee right about now. Jimmy was about to fire off the last rocket of the night and Karl couldn't seem to go over and ask you to marry him. He knew he was hilding himself back which made him hate himself. You deserved a good night and he hoped you enjoyed the fireworks, but he knew on the ride back he would have to apologize.

He stayed with the boys as they went to go see the fireworks they would be setting off soon. Once they came back they were all about to press the button to set off the expensive fireworks they counted down from 5 and he looked towards you. You were standing up with your arms crossed, hopefully shielding yourself from the cold, and looking towards the fireworks that were going to burst. They finally pressed the button the fireworks went off.

Each burst of light in the air sent a glow onto your smiling face. Karl sent a somber glace and marveled in how the explosion of the fireworks sent a beautiful glow around you.

This wasnt the right time. Next time.

2nd proposal: Donuts

"Im sorry for last night." Karl apologized as you both took a seat at a booth by the window at the small coffee and donut shop.

This was supposed to be an apology for the last failed proposal. Instead of spending time with you, he kept his distance which was the opposite of what he really wanted to do. This was a way to spend much needed time with eachother, but this was also another attempt at a proposal.

Karl wanted to hide the ring in the middle of a donut so when you inevitably look at it when he hands it to you, you'll see the ring and then he'll propose right there. To him it seemed flawless.

You never wanted a huge proposal. You didnt want that much attention on you when your future significant other would propose. Something simple would be the ideal proposal and you've hinted that many times to Karl and right now he was listening. There were only two other couples in the small diner because others were picking up donuts and leaving. If he decided to get down on one knee it would cause a scene.

You stayed silent for a moment looking at Karl before deciding to speak.

"It's no problem. Please dont stress out about it." You smiled softly and he smiled back at you. "I mean the fireworks were beautiful, but you all were screaming too much."

You both laughed as you both recalled that night in the desert.

"Yeah I just didn't..I didn't really talk to you all night. I feel bad." Karl said fiddling with his hands.

"Its in the past Karl. And I still know you love me." You reached out to grab both of his hands and hold his cool hands in yours.

"I do love you." He whispered for only you to hear leaving both of you smiling ear to ear.

"What kind of donuts you want?" Karl asked looking into your eyes carefully.

You thought about it for a while before speaking up. "I'll keep it simple. Icing with sprinkles. Surprise me with the icing color!" You exclaimed while letting go of his hands for a second.

Once you two let go of eachothers hands he immediately went to his pocket and played with the velvet box. He nodded his head and without a word he stood up to meet the cashier behind the display box of donuts. He ordered only one donut as you said with orange icing this time.

He paid for the food and stayed at the counter where he paid. Karl looked back to see if you were paying attention to him only to see you looking out the window at the people passing by. Karl smiled at the sight knowing he really wants to marry you one day and then he looked down at the glistening ring inside of the box.

Karl was supposed to put the ring in the middle of the donut that was laying alone on a napkin on the counter. He started to think of the possibilities of what could happen. What if you didn't see the ring and crumble the ring with the napkin and throw it away? What if you accidentally put the ring in your mouth? What if you weren't hungry anymore?

He looked over again to where you were looking at him giving him the same smile you gave during the fireworks. Karl sighed and once again closed the box with the ring. He was a coward and he knew that.

Karl picked up the donut from the counter and made his way over to you.

"Here's your donut with sprinkles and orange icing!" Karl exclaimed putting emphasis on the 'orange' part.

"Thanks babe!" You smiled as he sat down across from you. "Wait, you didn't get anything for yourself?"

Karl sighed again for what seemed like the 100th time today and put on a smile. "I ended up not being as hungry as I thought I was."

"Well I could always share!" You started to eat your donut as Karl ended up looking outside.

Unbeknownst to you he was thinking of another way to propose without himself getting in his own head.

He'll find a time.

3rd proposal: Livestream

"Chat! As you can see I have my significant other here with me!" Karl exclaimed to his Twitch following.

You were sat next to him in another one of his office chairs with a blanket across your lap. You loved to join Karl's streams, the last couple of time you two played minecraft, gang beats, played on the nitendo switch for a while, but this time he didn't tell you what games you two would be playing. Karl just told you to come over tonight and ended up asking to join him for a stream last minute.

Now you are here next to him as Karl glows with excitement as he streams to his growing followers. You loved how he interacted with his fans and had a genuine connection with them, but sometimes that strong connection can, and has led to some nights where you had to stay the night and comfort him from his inner demons and the internet. Those nights made you love him even more, the vulnerability he gave to you made you comfortable with him.

It seems like the more time you spend eith him the more you want to officially get married. You didn't want to rush him because you soon figured out for yourself that there is no rush to express your love, which you two do everyday day. You two can get eloped in Vegas and you'll be happy, as long as you can spend the rest of your life with the man you love.

Karl kept sending glances towards you throughout the stream hoping you were having fun with the chill, q and a stream. Again he wanted to propose to you tonight during the stream. He loved showing your relationship whenever he could and whenever you would allow him to. His community also loved you the moment you became his significant other, so hopefully this will be a beautiful moment.

You talked to his chat as he contemplated, again, about whether to propose tonight. It wasn't infront of people, it was infront of a screen and it would be on Twitter in less than a week. This would be a good moment, but then again he wanted this moment to be between you two and he couldn't find the right time nor the right "moment".

As the stream continues you ended up wrapping yourself fully in the blanket and lying your head on his shoulder. You both cuddled eachother while you two answered questions. Karl kissed the top of your head and finally collected all of his thoughts.

He didn't need to propose to officially claim his love to you. Karl knew you both loved eachother to the ends of the Earth and back. There's no need for ceremony and the one day he will propose, he know it will come naturally. There is no need to force it, and now he wont.

Only time will tell.

4th proposal: spongebob

"Are you ready, kids?

Aye, aye, Captain!

I can't hear you!

Aye, aye, captain!

Oh!"

The TV illuminated the comfortable, dark room you two were in. You were lying on the couch with Karl with the blanket you had while streaming. It was late at night after the stream and you two ended up watching re-runs of spongebob. Karl sang along to the theme song softly while you hummed along. This was the 4th episode you both watched this night and it was a great way to end the week.

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" Karl asked softly with tiredness in his voice.

"Of couse. Im too tired to move, so thanks for offering." You chuckled.

"You're welcome here anytime." Karl yawned and squeezed your sides. "Do you want popcorn?"

"Hell yeah." You got off of Karl as he walked to the kitchen.

He put the bag into the microwave and leaned back onto the kitchen counter as he waited. Karl looked over to the side and saw a empty vase which was next to the velvet box he was carrying with him this whole week. He shook his head and laughed to himself before getting the popcorn out of the microwave, dumping it in a bowl and walking back to see you taking up the whole couch.

"Move over or I'll sit on you." Karl said standing above her.

"Is that a promise?" You teased.

"Okay then!" He turned around and began to slowly and dramatically fake sitting ontop of you.

You began to laugh and try to push him off of you. You successfully got him to sit down and returned to your previous position, but this time with popcorn.

"I love you, you know that?" You hummed into his chest.

"Yeah, and I love you more."

"I love you most."

"I love you mostest." Karl laughed.

"That's not a word." You smiled.

"I love you so much I made up a word for ya." Karl kissed you head and you hugged him tighter.

"You know what?" Karl chuckled. "I love you so much that I tried to propose to you 3 times this week."

Karl finished and you sat up from your spot looking surprised. Karl sat up as well thinking he made a mistake telling you. He was abkut to apologize, but you beat him to speak.

"Oh my gosh!" You exhaled.

"Look, I'm sorr-"

"Are you proposing?!" You exclaimed with a smile on your face.

"Huh-?"

Karl was surprised just like you were before. He remembered that he wanted the Maybe this was the moment he needed this week.

Karl grabbed both of your hands and caressed them both, looking into your eyes. "I was planning to all week. But now I think this is a good moment. So Y/N? Will you marry me?"

"Of course I will!" You enveloped him into a tight hug and peppered his face with kisses. He finally found his moment and he couldn't be happier.

"You said you tried to propose three other times?" You questioned. "When was that?"

"Its a long story."

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argylemikewheeler · 3 years

Text

July 1st, 1985

what the first ep of (my) s3 would look like if the main concept was: both Steve and Will are gay in 1985’s Summer of Love and the town’s enemy is a little more human; loving friendships, very confused adults, and Will Byers Actually Getting Help

“Harrington!”

“Yes, sir.” Steve looked up from his desk. He dropped his crossword and looked to be at attention; the police station’s phone wasn’t ringing, though, so there wasn’t really anything he should have been doing. Hopper stepped out of his office, angling himself toward the door rather than Steve’s desk island.

“Do you think you’ll be able to-- Harrington, what are you doing?” Hopper caught sight of the pocket thesaurus sitting on his desk (the last name written on the inside cover not belonging to Steve, of course). Hopper fixed his sunglasses on the edge of his nose, looking over them and down at Steve.

“I’m just, uh, working on my vocabulary.” Steve said. Hopper blinked twice, waiting. Steve wasn’t going to say the truth: he was dating-- well seeing someone-- way smarter than him. This wasn’t for joy or boredom. He was studying to impress. “It’s college prep, sir.”

“The crossword?” The chief evened his stare. “This your old man’s suggestion?” Of all the things Steve’s father was telling him to do with himself, he wished some of it was simply pecking at a crossword over a twelve hour shift. Fucking off and being a better piece of shit son just wasn’t feasible to accomplish in one summer.

“He swears by it.”

“Okay, well. Uh, moving on from that,” Hopper grabbed his hat from the coat rack. The topic of Steve’s father always made Hopper stiffen up; it was definitely the main reason Hopper gave Steve his job at the station, but it still created more questions. Steve knew Hopper and his father went to high school together, but he never asked his father about those years-- beyond his baseball glory stories. “I’ve got plans tonight and I need to head out early. Can you handle things on your own for a while. At least until the night shift comes in?”

“I’ll be fine.” Steve made sure not to acknowledge the crossword on his desk as he nodded. He was really good at his job, he was. He was also just, unfortunately, still a pretty shitty boyfriend and needed all the vocab help he could get. “What’s the pressing story?”

“I have dinner.” Hopper was already trying to walk out the door. “So don’t call me. For the love of God.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Chief. I--” Steve was sure it was the cool July wind that slammed the door on the last half of his sentence. Not Hopper. “won’t... Have a good time, I guess.”

The police station was empty: it was another boring and wonderfully quiet Monday in Hawkins. There’d been some calls to break up disturbances at city hall in the past few days, but somehow everyone just seemed to agree that Mondays-- the longest shift of Steve's whole week-- was the day everyone went about their quietest day.

There were a few officers milling in and out of the back lounge and front door, casting a quick glance to Steve as he muttered and threatened fourteen down and six across. Nancy had been helping close the gaps of his post-high school education-- without knowing just what for-- but had been picking up most hours at the Post to try and elbow her way into their good graces; it put his tutoring on hold. So here he was, groaning at some clues about classical artists he’d never heard of.

There were other reasons Steve was sure the other officers thought he was odd-- things he was sure his father had passed along in spitting rants-- but Steve didn’t mind. No one said anything to his face.

“Hey Flo! Is, uh, is Steve here?” The question was asked with the answer already in mind.

Steve sat up in his chair, twisting around to see down the hall to the back entrance to the station. There weren’t many parking spots to fill, but he knew a certain someone who preferred it to street parking.

“Jonathan?”

“Oh, I hear him. Thanks-- hey!” Jonathan hurried out from the hall, his camera bumping against his stomach and bag slapping against his leg in the same rhythm. He’d gotten a new haircut recently: semi-wonky bangs and a closer cut in the back. All thanks to Steve’s peer pressure and Mrs. Byers’s kitchen shears.

“What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to stop by your work like this--” he lowered his voice as he stopped at the corner of Steve’s desk. “I know we said we wouldn’t do that, but we got an extra muffin in the lunch order and I know you’re always starving after a Monday shift so.” Jonathan produced a folded brown paper bag from his satchel. “Here.”

“Oh, thanks.” Steve wanted to say so much more, but had to settle. No more. None of what they’d decided they wouldn’t say. Not until the summer had ended. They wanted to see if they lasted longer than the convenience of loose summer schedules.

“Won’t I see you, uh, later, though?” At eight, when Steve got sent home he always drove straight to Jonathan’s. Jonathan started late on Tuesdays and Steve had off; they had the time to waste. “Or is this your way of telling me to stay home?”

“No! No we’re still... hanging out.” Jonathan had gotten really good at cooking and treated Steve to weekly dinner. It was a nice gesture at first, but Steve started growing fond of the company. They both did around mid-June. “But, I think Mike’s going to be over so. Be cool , alright? Keep it cool.”

“Cool, got it.” Steve leaned back in his chair. He moved his papers to leave a corner of his desk for Jonathan to sit on. No one was in the main office; it was a harmless invitation.

“I have to get going...” It sounded like an excuse, a dive for safety. “And I’m sure you have, um, puzzles to do?” Jonathan pretended not to be endeared. He tried, he really did. He failed , but Steve pretended he didn’t notice.

“Don’t want to sit and help me figure out the title of Mozart’s last opera?” He patted the desk, daring to be more direct.

“I really have to go.” Jonathan was genuine, looking at his watch. “The Post only let me out early today because I have to go pick up Will from his doctor’s appointment.”

“Wait.” Steve put the cap back on his pen. “Isn’t Will’s therapy on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, but with Mom’s schedule and the store being all weird-- we had to move it to today. And you know we typically have a family night after-- so he feels okay, you know-- but we can’t . So, that’s why Mike’s coming over. Hopefully they’ll be idiots and tire Will out and he’ll sleep okay.” Tension rose in Jonathan’s voice quickly, explaining his day as if going over a laundry list; never rehearsing it but having it memorized.

“I can stay home if you need time, Jonathan.”

“No, really. I want you to come over.” Jonathan sighed and placed his hand on the emptied spot on Steve’s desk. “Besides, you can’t break tradition after a little over one month , then it was just a weird habit.”

Steve Harrington did not consider his summer fling a w eird habit . If anything, it was the most sensical thing he’d done in a very long time. Even after getting rejected from all his colleges, and never hearing the end of his father’s lectures, 1985 had been very kind to him. And that was mostly due to Jonathan’s inherent nature to be the same.

“I’ll see you after eight.” Steve smiled and reached for his hand-- but averted to grab a piece of memo paper by the phone.

“I’m sorry to leave in a rush.” Jonathan hitched his bag up, checking his watch again. “I just, I really need to get going.”

“Don’t worry. The muffin is more than enough.” Steve said. “And seeing you wasn’t too bad either.”

“Slow day, huh?” Jonathan said. The corner of his mouth quirked with a flattered, embarrassed smile. Steve tried to act nonchalant, like he wasn’t so goddamn relieved to see a familiar and happy face. Especially his familiar and happy face. “Well, good thing I have another surprise for you.”

“You can barely fit your camera in that bag, what could you possibly-- hey!” Steve missed grabbing Jonathan’s arm as he walked away, heading for the front door. “Where are you going?” Jonathan kept walking, checking his watch the whole way. “Hello?”

“Delivered right on time.” Jonathan pushed the front door open to the station-- but was nearly knocked over as a green dash barreled through it.

"Steve! Steve! Steve!” The dash was suddenly grabbing him by the shoulders. “You got the job!”

“Henderson! Oh my god! You’re back!” In an unlikely impulse, Steve grabbed Dustin in a hug, taking advantage of the change of height. “Holy shit, I nearly forgot! First of the month!”

“See you, Steve.” Jonathan walked across the room to the back entrance again. His hand braced the back of Steve’s chair, brushing across his shoulders.

“O-Okay! Yeah, see you!” Steve sputtered, losing his reminded cool in an instant. “Bye.”

Dustin pulled away slowly. “What was that?” It looked like everyone was too smart for Steve.

“Nothing. He brought me a surprise lunch-- which was an obvious decoy to the main event! You! How are you, buddy? How was camp?”

“Oh, it was fantastic. Steve, I have to show you all my inventions! Camp was the best four weeks of my life .” Dustin hopped up onto the corner of his desk. His heels tapped against the empty metal drawers. He was jittery, nearly uncontainable, but still so composed-- if only to be focused all on Steve.

Steve held his hands out, letting him start. “Lay it on me, Henderson! I want to hear everything. I missed you like crazy.”

“Well, first, obviously. I have to tell you about my girlfriend--”

“Whoa! Whoa! Girlfriend ? That fast?” Steve hadn’t been expecting any of his dating advice to work. It had been coming from such a poor and confused part of himself, Steve figured it was destined to fail. Apparently, it was just Steve that was-- when flirting with women at least. “Damn, there’s something in you after all!”

“She’s super smart, Steve. I’ve never met any girl like her. She’s a genius and she’s so pretty. God, I miss her already-- and I just saw her.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. He knew the feeling. “That’s great, man. I mean, I’m super happy for you. Like, that’s crazy . That’s freaking awesome.”

“So what about you? How are the ladies? I mean, you work for the Chief now. All the ladies you could need and more, am I right?”

Steve used to be really good at this part of the lie, but with Dustin it felt cheap. He didn’t need to lie to him, but that was the deal; no matter how much that person was Steve’s best and most beloved friend, their secret was a dead-bolt, vaulted secret.

“Eh, not too great. Only girl my own age I see-- besides Nancy, really-- is the night-shift girl, Robin. But she’s not really-- we’re just friends. She’s alright. Leaves me weird drawings in the memo pad.”

“Ooo, she sounds cool.” Dustin raised his eyebrows. “Do you know her from school?”

“Yeah, we didn’t really run in the same crowds but-- it’s not like that, man. It’s really not.” Steve started unwrapping his lunch. “It’s so not like that with Robin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not... looking at the moment.”

Steve had originally decided to not go looking for trouble. After he and Nancy split in the beginning of his senior year, he didn’t start looking for an immediate replacement. The illusion of thinking he was in love with Nancy-- capable of being in love with Nancy-- was a hard thing to have come crumbling down. Steve needed time to get his own bearings, to put his feet firmly on the ground, and have them lifted off when his father grabbed him by the lapels and--

Steve hadn’t gone looking for trouble. Hadn’t gone looking for love either. But somehow, both seemed to find him.

Jonathan was late. He usually wasn’t but Will was trying not to be worried. It was a different day than usual and he knew how awful Jonathan’s boss and co-workers were. Will tried not to be worried-- he wasn't. It was just that he had spent an hour talking about the night his father left their family; standing outside the doctor’s office was a bit nerve-wracking. It felt too familiar, even with all the talking and note-scribbling.

Finally, Jonathan’s car pulled into the lot. He was speeding, as much as his car could speed: he knew he was late, which made Will feel a little bit better. No one had forgotten him. It was just traffic or his bosses or maybe just hitting all the red lights. As Jonathan stopped in front of the curb and waved Will in, Will could see he was jittery-- he was upset that he was late. Will felt bad for counting the minutes.

Not that he did it out of impatience or anything. Will just formed the habit after getting his new watch. It matched Mike’s. Completely on accident, of course.

“Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. I was-- I had to run an errand really fast. How long were you waiting.” He moved his bag and threw it onto the backseat. Will would’ve held it on his lap.

“I wasn’t keeping track.” Will said, climbing into the passenger seat. Will wanted to ask if his bag had Jonathan’s camera in it. If everything was okay. He didn’t. It seemed like Jonathan had been in his therapy with Will, just as shaken up. “It’s okay. Thanks for getting me.”

Jonathan waited until Will put on his seat belt. “Of course. We’re always here to pick you up. Therapy is important; you have to go.”

Will laughed before he could stop himself. “You sound like Mom.” Why?

“Because she’s right.” Therapy was still kind of weird to Will-- since no one else in his grade had to do it-- but he humored his family. It was helping, if he had to admit it. But it was still embarrassing sometimes.

His therapist, Dr. Bright-- Rose Marie, as she insisted on being called-- was a send-out from the Lab, but disguised within a private practice just outside of town. She was able to listen to Will talk about what he saw and felt during his time with the Mind Flayer without trying to commit him. Almost nothing was off limits. Almost nothing.

Will checked his watch again.

“Are you excited to see Mike tonight?” The question was pointed, but Will wasn’t sure why it made him nervous. “I mean, I feel like I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s always with El.”

Will was sure they weren’t dating. El was just on a year-long stint of self-discovery and, besides Max, Mike was the person she trusted the most to help make as many helpful mistakes as possible. He bought her books to read and new music to try. It was really sweet, seeing Mike take such big strides toward helping their friend. But there was also a part of Will that felt dejected: his sort of help had to be prescribed and couldn’t be replaced with a warm laugh from one Mike Wheeler.

Will was sick while his friends were growing.

“Is there something wrong?” Jonathan used to ask the question like Will was one trembling lip away from crying-- but this time, he asked it like Will had his hand on the door, seconds from jumping out. “Will, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Will nodded. “I’m fine. Just-- I talked a lot today and I’m tired.”

“Do you want to cancel with Mike--”

“No.” Will had been looking forward to having time with Mike-- just Mike-- for a whole week. He wanted to sit on his floor with his best friend and be a kid again. Just for the night-- maybe draw some of Mike’s old campaigns or sketch out an idea for his own. He just wanted to remember something good about the past four years. After his hour with Dr. Bright, it all felt painful. Like his childhood naivety had been broken and every conversation he overheard in his house dripped with venom and disdain.

Will didn’t like picturing his house that way. It was a place that loved and raised him, a place he felt safe. He didn’t like thinking the conversations he heard being screamed through the walls were trapped in the drywall.

His arms felt heavy and his chest felt like it was made of metal-- he kept tasting it in his mouth. Will leaned back against the seat and reached for the radio. Jonathan turned it down before Will had even changed the station.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I just want to see Mike.” Will said, his mouth too honest and his mind shrouded in guilt. “I just want to see my friend.”

“Okay. Okay.” Jonathan nodded somewhat somberly. “I understand. Let’s go pick him up. He’s at his house right? Not El’s-- o-or The Sinclair’s or anything?”

“No. He’s at his.” Will crossed his arms and tried to find the loose string-- the thing that could uncoil Jonathan’s still-tightening anxiety. “Are you still dating Nancy?”

Jonathan turned to look at Will, nearly crashing the car. That was the wrong string. “What?”

“Nancy? Are you still dating her?”

“I was never dating Nancy.” Jonathan laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not dating Mike’s sister, don’t worry.” The clarification was strange and felt off-topic. Like Jonathan was trying to talk about something else.

“I thought you were. You guys hung out a lot during school.” Will heard her voice through the walls too. Always gentle, never yelling. Except when she was losing at playing cards. Then she shouted.

“She was helping me pass chemistry. That’s all.” Jonathan turned the radio up a little. Will checked his watch. “And then she helped me apply to the Post internship-- she’s great at writing papers, did you know that? A real wordsmith. Is Mike a writer too?”

He was, he really was. Grammatically, Will ran out of red pens trying to help, but creatively? Will envied Mike’s ability. “I don’t know. We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff like you two do… Since you two are dating.”

“We’re not .” Jonathan laughed. Will took advantage of an upcoming stop sign to lean forward and look at his brother’s crimson face. “We’re not, Will, okay? We’re really not. I’d tell you.”

“You’d tell me?”

“Of course! I’d tell you if I… I had a girlfriend. Which I don’t!” He stayed at the stop sign for a bit too long. “Do you?”

There was an option to play dumb, to make Jonathan ask more directly: do you have a girlfriend, Will ? but it sounded far more painful than being honest, than being as lonely as he was.

“No. I don’t.”

“And you’d tell me. If you were dating someone?” Jonathan looked at Will, hopeful but scarcely so. “You’ll tell me if anything big happens in your life?”

“Yeah.” There wouldn’t be anything happening at all that summer, that was for damn sure . “Absolutely.”

Steve had about seventy percent of his puzzle done-- fifty of which was because Dustin was an unstoppable genius with no tolerance for Steve’s careful pace. It was just about quarter past seven, and Steve’s back was getting sore from sitting in his chair all day. He only liked sitting when it was in his car, on his way to the Byers's House, careful, of course, to obey all traffic laws.

Steve was packing his crosswords and pens up in the top drawer of his desk when something clattered the back door open. Steve grabbed a pen and whipped around in his seat, as if to wield it like a weapon.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

“Hey dingus.” Luckily, Steve couldn’t even see Robin yet-- or rather, she couldn’t see him or his emphasized eye roll. She could hear him groan though. “Hey, shut up and quit whining. I’m sending you home early.”

Her head popped out from the hallway. Robin’s ponytail was high on her head, the hair flopping over and getting caught in her stringy bangs. She flung her backpack out from behind her and tossed it toward Steve. She wasn’t in her uniform yet, only wearing the buttoned up shirt-- unbuttoned and showing her torn and dyed shirt underneath. She was wearing jogging shorts, her knees torn up and covered with Band-Aids. They reminded Steve of the ones taped to his face after getting a plate smashed into his forehead. Deceivingly cheerful.

“What are you doing here early?” Steve stood and followed her, holding her backpack awkwardly in his hands. “You’re never early.” Eight on the dot. Every time.

“I figure you want to get out of here tonight.” She didn’t even stop to look at Steve as they walked into the back room. “Probably want to see your boyfriend.”

Her words weren’t sharp, but Steve still recoiled. He let his arms, and her bag, hang by his sides.

“Who? Jonathan?” The only way Jonathan and Robin had ever met was in the hallways of Hawkins High. She definitely never saw them interact at the station-- or on any of their nights together: they were always indoors. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“First off, I didn't even say a name." Shit. "Second, he came in the other day looking for you.” Robin started buttoning her shirt up, fixing the collar as she finally turned to see Steve. “He was really upset-- didn’t even know what time it was to know you weren’t working.”

“Upset?” Technically, it wasn’t Steve’s problem. It was the deal; they didn’t have to care about each other’s lives. It was just summer. It was just like any other summer.

“Yeah. Crying, sniffling, snot-- the whole nine, man.” Robin sounded extremely sympathetic despite beginning to change her pants. Steve whipped around, covering his face. “You should go see him. Make sure he’s okay. Be a good boyfriend... shithead.”

“He’s not--”

“Steve, I’m the last person you should be arguing with.” Robin laughed-- and it was only momentarily threatening. Until, of course, Steve realized what she meant.

Like all good secrets kept at Hawkins PD, Steve kept his mouth shut and nodded even if she wasn’t looking.

“Yes, sir--ma'am-- Robin.”

“So, are you going to go or what, dingus?” She tapped him on the shoulder. “Get out of here-- and tell me all about it Wednesday.”

Steve blinked at her, holding out her bag. As if it was enough thanks to give her back her own property. “Are we… friends, or something?”

“No, of course not.” She winked, slapping his arm. “Just looking out for one of my own.”

After picking Mike up from his house, they drove home in uncharacteristic chatter. Jonathan was the only one speaking, humming along to the radio. Will was exhausted beyond performative small talk; the type that had to be done between two best friends when a third party was present. Mike was great at just sitting with Will in silence, but Jonathan didn’t know that. Instead, the three of them passed around quiet jokes and laughter, answering questions about their friends for Jonathan’s upkeep of information.

Once they got in the house, Jonathan let them wander off into Will’s room as he started pulling pots out of the kitchen cabinets. He wouldn’t bother or pester them about any summer work, either. They would be left alone in their own coupled silence.

Mike was sitting cross-legged on Will’s floor, twisting one of Will's crayons between his fingers. Will needed new ones but he felt funny asking for them as a near-freshman in high school. He liked the glide of wax on paper compared to the scrape of colored pencils. Well, that and the fact he ruined half of his crayons the year prior making a full map of Hawkins in a fugue state and only had two crayons able to be used normally.

“You had doctor stuff today, right?”

Will was digging under his bed for his emptier sketch book. “Yeah. Therapy. Doctor doctor stuff was two weeks ago.”

“How was it?” Mike let his hand still and rest in his lap. “Like, what do you do in therapy? Just start talking?”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. You have to think about stuff too. Doctors ask you questions, sometimes.” Will pulled back and drug his old drawing supplies along the carpet. He sat back on his heels and was able to see Mike over the top of the bed. He didn’t know Will was looking. “You have to have answers.”

“What do they ask about?” Mike kept looking at his hands, unaware of Will. “Upside down stuff?”

“Sometimes.” Will shuffled back around to Mike's side of the bed. He could feel the tiniest bit of rug burn starting. “She asked me about my dad today.”

Mike looked up, almost immediately. “Can she do that?”

“Why can’t she?” Will popped the lid on the retired Tupperware, now his art bin. “I talked about it.”

“I thought you didn’t like to.” Will had never said those words which meant Mike had gathered it from just observing him. “Did you… like talking about it?”

“Not really.” Will laughed. He found a few extra crayons, but of all the wrong colors. “She had this big speech afterward about learned helplessness that I… really didn’t like.” Will tried to keep laughing.

Mike put the crayon back in the bin. “Are you okay, Will?”

“Yeah. It’s just… the same old stuff.” Will shrugged. “Sometimes it just bothers me more than other days.”

Mike bit the inside of his cheek, picking at his words carefully. “You never talk about your dad, Will.”

“Why would I?”

“Because it bothers you. You can talk about anything you want-- I… I would listen.”

“You don’t have to listen to it just because it happened to me, you know. My therapist says you don’t have to experience things with me for them to be real.”

“But I want to know.” Mike looked insulted, almost crushed and collapsed as he sat back on his hands. “That’s your dad,” he said. “And you’re my friend.”

They sat in silence for a while. Mike went back to studying a new crayon, picking at the wrapper. Will felt something forming in his throat. A bubble that was hot, thick and sticky. Not vomit, but not impending tears either.

“I don’t get why he left.” Will said. “I don’t know what happened to our family.”

“Nothing happened. Maybe he just… wasn’t good at being your dad anymore.”

“But then why? What did I do?” Will didn’t want to ask Mike, make him feel responsible for answering, but Will was desperate to ask the universe again.

“Nothing.” Mike said. “I just think he…”

“He what? My dad got tired of me? Didn’t want to raise me?”

“Maybe he actually learned how to take a hint and knew he wasn’t good enough for you and Jonathan-- or your mom.” Mike wanted to be hopeful, to be positive, so badly. He ached, his smile tight and weak. He didn't have the answers, and who was Will to put him in the position to come up with them.

“So he gave up.” Will said.

“That’s not what I meant--”

“I know. I know… That’s just how it feels.” Will shrugged. He smiled at Mike, accepting his help and his warmth. It hurt knowing that Mike was wrong, but still. Will could always pretend a little longer. Anything for Mike.

“Hey! You monsters hungry?” Steve clapped his hands together before gently tapping the door. “Jonathan’s got dinner on the table.”

The door was open. Steve didn’t have to knock. He wanted to, just to prove he wasn’t too comfortable, but he also knew Mike was over. And knocking would announce his entrance rather than letting it just be something that just was . Rather than being cool .

Awkwardly and with a lot of weird, throat-clearing fanfare, Steve opened the Byers’s front door and poked his head inside. Jonathan called him in from the kitchen without even needing to say hello, or being surprised by his walking in: In here, Steve! Dinner’s almost done .

Steve walked through the living room carefully, as if he’d disturb it. There was a tape playing softly-- some band Steve’s never heard of, but didn’t hate. He’d grown to like the way that every song played in the Byers house was always moody and melancholy. The music was always the opposite of how he felt stepping into the kitchen.

Jonathan was at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious. He had what looked to be tomato sauce stains on the front of his shirt-- where he wrapped his hand up to open the sauce jar. Steve was able to hide his smile as he shouldered off his uniform jacket and toed off his shoes, claiming a chair at the kitchen table.

“How was work?” Jonathan didn’t stop stirring. He moved like the stove was turned all the way up and he was afraid of burning the food. He spoke that way too.

“It was fine. Not a whole lot.” Steve didn’t want to have anything seem bigger than whatever upset Jonathan-- and seemed to still be upsetting him now. “How was your day?”

“Fine. Will and Mike are in the other room.” He was checking things off his list. Steve stepped up to Jonathan and stood even with him at the stove. He was making one-pot pasta. It really did smell fantastic. Steve was so hungry, even after his lunch.

“How was… the other things in your day? Develop any good pictures?” Steve covered how stupid he sounded by placing his hand on Jonathan’s lower back.

Jonathan stopped stirring and looked at him. Steve tried to keep cool, tried not to show his motives-- his attempt to calm something he couldn’t believe he’d missed spinning out of control, even if he didn’t know what it was. “Nancy walked into the dark room today-- she’s actually the one who gave me the muffin-- and she exposed the photos to light too early. So no, actually.”

Steve really was a bad boyfriend. Even when he wasn’t one yet-- or at all.

“Okay… how was. Everything else?”

“You don’t have to ask about my day, Steve. It’s okay.” Jonathan sighed and spoke evenly. “I’m just a little tired. Really. We don’t have to do the whole… thing .”

The whole thing where Steve was explicit about how much he really cared about Jonathan and admitted he was sincerely and terrifyingly in love with Jonathan.

“I was asking because I was curious. Not out of obligation.” Steve clarified. His hand slid to rest on Jonathan’s hip. He moved closer, lips aiming to place a commitment-less kiss on his cheek.

“Steve! I said to keep it cool .” Jonathan ducked back, placing a hand on Steve’s chest. “I don’t want Will to see us.”

“Your brother?” Steve was surprised; of all people Jonathan explicitly wanted to hide from Will seemed kind and forgiving-- not that there was anything to forgive, but it was something Steve often checked for. Steve was sure that one of Dustin’s friends would be… like Steve. Or like Jonathan-- maybe. All of them seemed prepared to deal with any of their friends suddenly being different. Far more prepared than Steve ever was.

“Yes. My brother.” Jonathan snapped, banging the spoon against the edge of the pot. “I don’t want him to learn I’m not dating Nancy but instead seeing her ex-boyfriend in the same day.” he whispered.

“Wait, what? He thinks you’re with Nancy?” Steve wasn’t sure where they went wrong. They were trying to obscure the truth, not lead everyone to a different reality. “D-Do you think Mike does too?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t want to ask and seem weird.” Jonathan sighed again. He sounded tense again. “I told Will I’d tell him if I was seeing anyone… And he promised me the same.”

Steve knew not to press the obvious question-- well are you seeing someone, Jonathan? -- but also didn’t want to touch the obvious implication that Will needed to share a secret with Jonathan. Instead, he placed his hands into his pockets and turned to lean against the counter.

“Dinner smells really good, Byers.” There was another name that began with “B” that Steve wasn’t allowed to use, but always wanted to. Byers Byers Byers. Baby baby baby. “Thank you, again, for cooking for me-- for us.”

“You think I’m going to let you starve?” His stirring slowed; the stove cooled down. He nudged Steve’s arm with the spoon. “You coming home late and trying to cook? You mean half-drinking a beer and falling asleep face down on your bed in your uniform, half unbuttoned.”

“You picture that often, Byers?” Steve lifted an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Jonathan’s lips quirked into a smile again. “But, if you’d like a beer, I think there’s one in the fridge. No one in the house is going to touch it.”

“I can go ask Will if he wants it.”

“Shut up-- do you want it or not?”

“No.” Steve didn’t like drinking when they were together. He’d never really heard the full story about where Mr. Byers went, but he had a father of his own to make those blank spaces fill pretty fast. “But thanks. Don’t want the habit of needing a beer to forget how boring my job is.”

“I thought you liked your job?” Jonathan took a piece of pasta out of the pot and held it out for Steve to test.

He chewed and answered. “I do! It’s nice to have normal hours-- and I’m happy to help have replacements as Flo gets ready to retire but… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels boring .”

“Would you rather be chasing down a four-legged monster without a face?” Jonathan let out a bubble of genuine laughter, playfully glaring at Steve.

“Frankly, yes! At least we’d all have something to do. I feel like I don’t see everyone anymore.”

“Then throw a party. Don’t wish for anything bad to happen.” Jonathan said firmly. “Let the record show my brother is a very strange magnet for all this… weird shit.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Steve said solemnly. He put his hand on Jonathan’s forearm. “I wish we were all safely doing something exciting. It felt nice to be needed, even if no one knew it was us.”

Jonathan put the spoon down on the counter and pivoted to be looking only at Steve. There was something resting just on the tip of his tongue, just under the surface of their conversation. It would’ve been a digression-- Steve could tell by Jonathan’s tense and furrowed brow-- but he would’ve listened.

“Jonathan?” Steve squeezed his arm, lifting his eyebrows. “What is it?”

“I--” He clenched his jaw, trying to swallow his words. “I think--” Steve knew there was no end to Jonathan’s sentence; merely starting it meant there was trust between them. A careful admission through omission. Steve knew Jonathan was looking at his shoes and wouldn’t be seen as he took in the secret flinches of Jonathan’s face. The crinkle by his left eye, the twitch of his mouth, double blinking--

They both jumped apart as the phone started ringing, practically shaking on the wall. Jonathan stepped away from Steve and left everything unsaid. Again.

Jonathan tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he turned to lean against the wall.

“Hello? This is--” His face changed sharply, his eyebrows furrowing. “I told you to stop bothering us. You’re lucky she’s not here to pick up the phone-- I don’t care !” Jonathan cleared his throat and looked at Steve in a flash of uncertainty and anxiety. “I have the police here right now and if you don’t stop calling me I will send them to your house-- it’s not a threat if you’re the one bothering us. Stop. Calling.” He slammed the phone down and braced his weight against the wall with his other hand.

“Am I considered ‘the police’ now?” Steve said lightly. It was his way of letting Jonathan know he was listening, but not asking direct questions. “I’m not even allowed to have a badge.”

“It counts.” Jonathan said, letting his arms fall down by his sides. Steve stepped over and kept stirring dinner.

“Who was that?”

“No one. Can you go get the boys in the other room? Dinner’s ready.” Jonathan pushed Steve aside to hunch over the stove again.

“Sure.” Steve nodded, knowing he wasn’t seen. “Hey! You monsters hungry? Jonathan’s got dinner on the table.”

Dinner felt weird.

Will couldn’t help but feel like he and Mike had gotten into a fight. Talking about his dad made anything feel sticky, feel like it was violent or volatile. A second from snapping or tearing off, bouncing around the walls and echoing in Will's body. A small conversation between friends-- actually a little understanding between best friends-- felt like it had been a screaming match, all because it was cut off. There was no apology from Will. He didn't have the chance to tie it all up with an I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, forget I said anything.

His plea sat heavy on his tongue as he talked to Steve-- who had arrived without notice-- and let Mike make him laugh so hard he nearly shot water out his nose. Will let it all happen under the tremor, the ache, of an apology. And maybe, if he was the best brother and friend he should’ve been, no problems or therapy, it would be enough of an apology.

He wasn't hungry and only ate half his serving of pasta, even though it was usually his favorite of Jonathan's recipes. He did apologize for that though, and it felt right to say aloud. Even if it was misdirected and no one heard it.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so so sorry. Please come back--

Mike wasn’t tired, Will knew, but he still wanted to go to bed right after their horror movie ended. It was clear Mike hadn't been paying attention to the movie; the entire plot was that dreams were a new horror-scape for monsters to get teenagers. It wasn't too scary to Will; it just felt familiar. The villain looked different, more human, but Will knew what it felt like to dream while wide awake. To watch and be unable to do anything but scratch at the surface--

Convincing Will to get ready for bed, Mike said they’d have all day in the morning. He said that maybe he could convince his mom to let him stay over again if they don’t get all their fun in. Will knew Mike's mom probably would, if only because she felt bad for Will. But he would take the pity. A sleepover wasn't the worst thing to get from pity.

Will could still hear Mike fidgeting in his sleeping bag. He was rubbing his feet together like a cricket and twisting his wristwatch. The plastic scratched the sheer material of his sleeping bag rhythmically: back and forth. back and forth. backandforthbackandforth. It was like Mike was counting the ticks of his silent digital watch. Will began to play with his own watch, keeping it on in bed only because he'd noticed Mike hadn't removed it when they were brushing their teeth that night; apparently the watch was too good to part with.

Time though, was something Will wished he could separate himself from. He could hear the seconds scraping by now. Every moment he kept his friend awake and bored because Will was too weak or (rather and) too everything to stay up late again.

Therapy hadn’t even been that bad. Not really. Maybe it could be exhausting but it didn’t count because Will sat in the same spot for an hour. It wasn’t real work. It shouldn’t have counted. Will should’ve been able to hang out with his friend until sunrise, getting in trouble with his mom for being up so late. He should’ve still been a stupid, carefree kid, not a by-gone troubled teenager.

Maybe his dad had seen that from the beginning. Will's dad was always gambling, betting on baseball games he had these incredible "feelings" on. Sometimes he was wrong, but when he was right it was an amazing prediction; having the foresight no one else had. And maybe that was what it was, leaving them when he did. Maybe he saw Will wouldn’t be the second son he wanted after all. Maybe he knew of all the damage that would be done to him, the damage he would cause. Probably saw it from miles-- years-- away. And he left without a single warning to any of it.

What if his father had known? Could've known where he was when he came back into town two years ago? Not gone forever just in the lights. Just out of reach, just through the wall, Dad. What if he had known, been able to see, able to know, but wanted to leave Will Down there being possessed and enveloped and consumed and--

Will felt a chill scurry down his back. The feeling almost had legs. Too many. He felt ice cold, his body going blank-- not numb, but blank -- for a second. He couldn’t feel his fingers, but could still feel every inch of his body, suddenly pulsing and seizing.

"Will?" Mike asked, sitting up. He gripped the end of the bed and pulled his face closer to Will's. He squinted in the darkness, feeling for Will’s hand. Will couldn’t answer, his jaw tense and breath rattling out of him. "Will, what’s wrong?"

After a (thankfully) non-awkward dinner, Steve and Jonathan washed all the dishes and let the boys watch whatever movie they wanted. Steve didn’t pay attention to what tape he put in the VRC. He was too busy thinking about the hands hidden in the warm soapy water in the kitchen sink. Neither Mike nor Will seemed too bothered by the disgusting amount of blood or the scary blade man on the TV. He felt no regret letting them go to bed right after the credits rolled. Jonathan had looked exhausted after putting the last dish away, and dozed off during the climax of the movie-- even slept through the high-pitched screaming.

They waited for the sound of Will’s door closing over before they got into bed.

Jonathan flopped onto his back, a pillow resting between his chest and crossed arms. Steve laid on his side, bracing his weight on his elbow. He poked at Jonathan's furrowed eyebrow lightly.

"What's the problem, Byers?"

"Nothing."

"You are not a really great liar, you do know that right?" That and Steve could still hear Robin's blasé recounting of Jonathan's distress. Yeah. Crying, sniffling, snot-- the whole nine, man.

Jonathan sighed and turned to look at Steve. He hated being called out. "It's about Will."

"What's wrong with Will? He seemed alright at dinner."

"Yeah, but," Another sigh. "Steve, I think my brother’s gay."

Steve's first response was swallowed and he nodded. "Okay. Okay. And, um, what's the issue with that?" He adjusted himself on the bed, hoping there was more subtlety in that.

"I can't talk to him about it. I mean," Jonathan smiled and reached to touch his face. "This is a very different thing than being fourteen and confused."

"Who says he's confused?"

"I don't mean with himself-- the rest of the world is so confusing, Steve. You see the news... I can't talk to him. I didn't grow up like that. And being with you is... Different. We dated girls before. Will... I don't know. I think he knows already."

"You think he's got feelings for--"

"Oh absolutely." Jonathan nodded, closing his eyes. "Oh, I'm so glad it's not just me who sees it."

"Hopefully Wheeler does too."

"Hey, keep your voice down, he's only a few rooms over ."

"Sorry. Sorry. Me and my big mouth " Steve rested his head on Jonathan's shoulder. "Shut me up, maybe."

"Not until my mom gets back." Jonathan said, rolling up onto his side too. "If I catch her when she comes in the door, she won't come into my room to say good night. I can't have you distracting me until then."

"Your mom is on a date. She's an adult and so are you." Steve kissed Jonathan's shoulder. "You are a working man who just finished a long day at work-- I think you can cuddle up with your boyf--" Steve choked on his own stupidity, feeling his face go red and charisma die on impact. "With me."

"I will. Once my mom is back." Jonathan kissed Steve, as if a parting promise. Only to backtrack on his words immediately. He tucked Steve’s hair back behind his ear, his hands trying not to hold his face. “No-- no . Steve, not until my mom gets back.”

“I can keep an ear out--” As Steve spoke, the power in his bedside lamp dimmed. The power hummed quietly before flickering back up. Jonathan tensed and pushed himself up in bed.

“Did you see that?”

“Yeah, it was just the light, Byers. It’s windy out tonight, maybe a tree brushed a powerline.” Steve pushed Jonathan back down to his pillow-- and back into his own skin again. “It’s nothing . What if I turn out the light? Your mom won’t even see us in here.”

“No. No, I have to wait for her.”

“What if she doesn’t come back?”

“What!” Jonathan jerked upright again.

“I meant what if she’s at Hopper’s or something?” Steve shrugged. “She’s an adult.”

“Steve, that’s my mom .” Jonathan hissed, swatting at the hand resting on his shoulder.

“I meant because she drove there on her own. If she had some wine, maybe she stayed somewhere and is being a smart, responsible parent.” Steve soothed. “Something you don’t have to be right now. You’re not Will’s parent and you aren’t your own. Lay down, will you?”

Jonathan was reluctant, but let Steve ease him back down again. He pulled the pillow tighter to his chest and sighed, his crossed arms sinking deeper. Steve laid down beside him, nose gently touching the end of his shoulder. As he breathed, his short exhales tickled Jonathan’s skin and got him giggling. It was Steve’s secret trick; something that always worked because Jonathan didn’t know it was a pattern-- didn’t know he was ticklish.

“Sorry I was weird today.” Jonathan said suddenly. He wasn’t even grinning.

“What?” They didn’t apologize. There was no need. “You’re worried about stuff-- it’s okay.”

“No, I like our dinners. And I was so uptight. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Steve didn’t know what to do with the sentiment. “Apology accepted?”

Jonathan sighed again, blowing it out slowly between his pressed lips. “Lonnie called today.”

“L- your dad ? Is that who was on the phone?” Steve wasn’t sure what came over him-- or his body-- as he placed an arm over Jonathan’s waist and pulled them together. There was something unspokenly intimate talking about abusive fathers while being nearly sutured together in bed, but Steve pretended he was just having problems hearing Jonathan correctly.

“Yeah.” Jonathan turned, his nose brushing Steve’s. “Said he wants custody of Will. He doesn’t trust Mom, he said.”

“How is he-- He can’t do that.”

“He’s going to try. I don't know where it came from. He still thinks he can win a case because the news says Will just disappeared into the woods . Like he ran away from us or something.”

“Everyone knows that’s not true.”

“A court might not.” Jonathan sighed, ducking his head down. Steve resisted lifting his chin to hook it over Jonathan’s head, nestling him into his neck. He laid still, listening to his breathing and the gentle creaking of the house--

Jonathan's door was thrown open, both men sitting up quickly, ready to defend themselves and their actions. It was Mike, in his pajamas with his hair sticking out in wild curls. Will stood just behind him in the hallway looking far more awake. Stilted and untousled.

"Mike?"

"Jonathan, quick!"

"What is it?" Jonathan swung his legs around and motioned both boys to come in. "Will?" Mike pushed him into the center of the door frame, although he remained in the hallway, in the light. Will’s hand grabbed at the back of his neck. His face was blank and his eyes were distant.

"Something's wrong." Will said slowly, blinking to focus. "I feel him."

"Feel who?" Jonathan kneeled in front of Will, holding his shoulders. "Feel who, Will?"

"Dad."

#stonathan #jonathan byers x steve harrington #byeler #will byers x mike wheeler #byler #finally reposting in a way that isn't a random post with a link alksdja #prompts #my fics

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

short skirt, high heels (spencer reid/reader)

Title: short skirt, high heels,

Anon requested: Hi! May i please have a Spencer one shot? y/n has been part of the team for a while, she’s confident, fun and always wearing professional but slightly sexy workwear. Spencer is caught staring at y/n legs while she’s wearing a skirt. Her and Spence have a flirty friendship that leads to more?

Couple: spencer reid/fem reader

Category: spicy fluff

Content Warning: comments about sex, sex jokes, swearing, low-key sub!spencer, low-key dom!reader, mentions of drinking (but no actual drinking)

Word Count: 2,371

Summary: Spencer has had a crush on reader since she basically started working for the BAU. It doesn’t help that reader dresses to leave a little to the imagination and is constantly flirting with him.

A/N: this is my first time writing dom(-ish)!reader… let alone sub(-ish)!spencer… so pretty please bare with me with this one… i mean, i think i did a dom(-ish)!reader... but yeah! thank you everyone for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

I don’t know why I wear such revealing clothing to work. It’s modest and professional, I just have to put that out there. But, it is on the sexier side of clothing. I suppose I do it because I like it, it makes me feel more confident. And you need a certain level of confidence to have a job at the FBI’s prestigious Behavioural Analysis Unit.

The way people's eyes followed me felt great. I loved it. But it was always one person who caught my attention, or I caught their attention I should say. It was always the same person, and will forever be the same person. Spencer Reid’s eyes have been on me since day one, not that I’m complaining.

I could picture it clearly how his eyes followed me from the elevator all the way to Hotchner’s office. And how red his face was when Derek called him out about. It was honestly my favorite thing in the world. I kinda felt bad about the teasing he got. But, he shouldn’t have been staring in the first place. It was my first day! I didn’t know him… Let alone did he know me.

A pile of files was sitting in one arm, while my free hand held a small briefcase. The elevator was a scratchy silvery color, and the lights from above reflected off every surface.

My hair was pulled back in a high and curly ponytail. A tight, navy blue, pencil skirt clung to my legs, and a modest, yet very low, red blouse hung from my shoulders. I typically try to do subtle makeup for professional days, but I always look like some sort of supermodel at the end of the day.

The doors to the elevator doors dinged open, showing me, behind a floor to ceiling window, the open offices of the BAU. Aaron Hotchner would be the man I was looking for, but their offices were so open, people were walking around, bustling because of their copious amounts of work. Can’t wait for that to be my life.

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I entered the main office area. A few people were sitting and standing around one person’s desk. They were all laughing and talking to each other as the people around them worked their asses off. Their boss just lets them do this?

I furrowed my eyebrows as I walked into the office area some more. People were still rushing past me, not talking to me. I know for a fact I don’t look familiar to anyone here, and I look lost to everyone. A little help would be nice.

“Could you tell me…” I started to talk but didn’t get to finish my thought when the person just continued walking. I let out an annoyed sigh and went to stop someone else, but fail when they glared at me and kept walking.

“Uh, Aaron Hotchner’s office?” I failed again. I threw my head back and let out a deep sigh. I didn’t realize just how busy it was today. If I had known it was so busy, I wouldn’t have come in today.

“Excuse me,” I stepped right in front of someone else and they stopped to look at me.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go. Time-sensitive thing,” they pointed at their watch before pushing past me. I bit my lower lip and shook my head again.

“Can anyone please tell me where Aaron Hotchner’s office is?!” I only half-shouted. I still gotta maintain some level of professionalism. I was just getting fed up with everyone ignoring me. Everyone around me stopped their movement and looked at me.

The group of people at the desk all stared at me with wide eyes before pointing towards the other side of the room. I looked at everyone before looking at where they were pointing. A man wearing a black suit and a businessman haircut was standing on a small catwalk, looking at everyone in the office area. Although, he was mostly looking at me. I widened my eyes and looked down at the ground with wide eyes before walking over to him.

“Hi, you must be Aaron Hotchner,” I looked up at him before introducing myself. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” I looked back out in front of us. Everyone was back at their work, even the people at the desk. All except for one person.

A man, who was with the group around the desk, was staring at me. Not near me or at Aaron, but right at me. It was just obvious that he was staring at me. His eyes carefully lingering on my legs, or arms, or my chest for the briefest second. But never long enough on my face. Although when he did look at my face, I smiled and winked. His face grew three shades red.

“No, no, don’t worry. I understand the hustle and bustle of this place,” Aaron laughed before turning to look at me, “Let’s step inside my office.”

So, that’s where I was work-wise. Working on the team with the BAU, with the man who stared at me and became a tomato the second I winked at him. Ah, good ole’ Spencer Reid. That boy doesn’t even know he’s infatuated with me… But I do.

I’ve had my fair share of flirts with him, and scandalous comments made about the two of us. Or, the jokes and teasing made by others. Although, our friendship always had some sort of flirtiness to it, even if he didn’t notice he was flirting with me. There was still something there. I smiled at the thought of him being so oblivious and clueless.

Derek giving him pointers or tips was my favorite. The help was nice, honestly. But, it was the execution. It was a little sad when Derek left to be with Hank and Savannah, leaving poor Spencer to fend for himself. Of course, Rossi tried but no really let Spencer listen.

I could hear his voice now when he told Derek and David that he didn’t need tips or pointers, because ‘He doesn’t have a crush on her.’ They never really gave up on that though.

“Seems like you’ve caught someone’s attention,” Emily muttered as she looked down at the desk. I glanced over my shoulder and noted that the eyes one Spencer Reid were wandering up and down my lower half and backside. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dressing for a guy. I mean, I dress mostly for myself. But the unwanted, yet wanted, attention from one guy was excellent.

“And he says he doesn’t have a crush on me,” I looked back at Emily with a smile. She laughed as she looked at the paperwork I was signing. “Do you think he even knows he’s staring?” I spoke as I placed the pen down on the desktop.

“I don’t think he knows he likes you,” she replied, finally shuffling the papers together in a neat pile. I scoffed and shook my head. “C’mon, you know Reid. He’s got the innocence of a 1st grader when it comes to relationships and romance,” she laughed as she stood up straight.

“True, this is true,” I returned the laughter as I stood up so I was no longer leaning over my desk. “All done with paperwork?” I asked, smiling at Emily.

“For now, I hope,” she laughed as she picked up the papers. “Good luck with you know who,” she spoke in a sing-y song tone before slipping away to her office. I looked back over my shoulder and smiled when I saw that Spencer was still staring at me.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I winked once he looked up at my face. And I swear, his face changed several different shades of red as he looked at me. He went from looking normal to looking like Roma Tomato. I didn’t feel bad about my joke either. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught him staring at me. “Or just close your eyes and use your robot brain to take a picture,” I smirked at him.

“I… I wasn’t staring,” Spencer muttered as he pulled his eyes from my body to look at his own paperwork. I slowly walked away from my desk and over towards him. I leaned over so I was the same height as him. But, that also gave him a great look at my cleavage. I smirked when he struggled to not stare at my chest.

“Sure you weren’t,” I placed my hand to his cheek and smiled. For a moment he leaned more into my touch, but instantly jerked away from my hand, “It’s okay, you weren’t staring at me. I get it.” I smiled and cocked my head, “I know how I look. I’d stare too if I was you,” I pulled my hand away from his face before sitting down in his lap. Spencer held his hands up so he wasn’t touching me at all. I had to force myself not to pout. I’d be okay if he touched me in any way, innocent, not innocent… Doesn’t matter.

“What are you doing!? There are people here! Watching!” He exclaimed once I was settled on his legs. I smiled and nodded.

“I know, I know,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around his neck, “But, the next time I catch you staring at my ass, I’m gonna do a lot worse than sitting on your lap, Reid,” I smiled and blinked at him. He stared at me and nodded slowly, like even though he understood the words I was saying, he knew he wasn’t going to follow through with them.

It was impressive how his face got even redder. But it was crazy. I kinda liked it too.

“Do you understand?” I whispered as I looked at him. He nodded. I smiled again before I stood up. “I’d understand if you look again, I won’t be upset. In fact, I’ll encourage it, Spence,” ” I kept smiling at him as I walked away from him.

I returned to my desk and gathered my things before I left the office for the day. As I looked over my shoulder, Spencer was definitely staring at me, and he knew I definitely caught him. So, I smiled before winking and waving as the elevator doors shut.

{***}{***}{***}

“O’Keefes anyone?” Luke asked as we stepped off the elevator. I rolled my shoulders and looked at him with a somewhat flirtatious smile. He returned the smile and winked.

“I’m always down to go to O’Keefes with you, Lukey Poo,” I cooed as I pinched his cheek. A groan came from the back of the group, causing me to turn and look. A smile grew on my lips when my eyes landed on Spencer, who had rolled his eyes and looked away from Luke and I. “You comin’ with us, Pretty Boy? First-round on me?” I smiled at him.

“I’m definitely in if you’re buying drinks,” Jennifer looked at me before stepping ahead of Luke and I. I smiled at her before looking back at Spencer.

“Pretty please,” I half begged as I pouted my lower lip and gave my best puppy dog eyes. Spencer looked back at me, a pointed stare in his eye. I gave him my best puppy dog eyes and playful pout as I looked at him. “You don’t even have to drink. You can just sit there and be quiet,” I spoke before abruptly stopping in my tracks. And just as I turned around, Spencer walked right into me. In order to keep me from toppling over, he grabbed both my arms to keep me upright. His hands were touching the exposed skin on my arms, causing me to smile. This would be the first time he was touching me, off of a case. Working on a case is a whole different story. Pulling me out of the way of an unsub is different than firmly placing his hands on my arms to steady me from falling.

“You need to be more careful… I won’t always be there to catch you when you fall,” he spoke low just so I could hear him. I smiled as I looked up at him.

“But, I’d love it if you were there,” I lifted a hand to place on his chest. Just as he opened his mouth, someone appeared beside us. I smiled as I looked over at the person.

“Will you two just get a room already?” Emily looked between Spencer and I before leaving us alone. I looked back up at Spencer with a new, confident, and flirtatious smile. He looked clueless as always. Of course, he didn’t know what Emily meant by that.

“Whaddya say we go find a broom closet and show up to O’Keefes a little later than the others,” I carefully wrapped my arms around his neck. Even in my highest heels, Spencer was still a good few inches taller than me. So, I stood on my toes to try to get closer to his personal space and lean closer to his face. “I know where some great broom closets are to get… funky in,” I whispered as I leaned closer to him. We were a good few inches away from each other, and it was taking everything in me to not press my lips to his.

“I… I, uh... Uh,” Spencer started, but clearly couldn’t find the words to say anything. I smiled before lifting a finger to his lips.

“Just a nod or a shake of your head will be okay… And, if you say no, I won’t be upset. I’ll stop and I won’t bring it up again… Now, Doctor Reid,” I whispered as I pulled my finger away from his lips. “Do you want to go find a broom closet and have some fun in there?” I asked again. Spencer stared at me with wide eyes before rapidly nodding. I put my arms back around his neck before pressing my lips to his. Spencer placed his hands firmly on my waist.

And after 8 years of working here, I’m finally getting what I want.

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

A Perfect Storm Part 1

Harry Potter Marauders Era- Post Hogwarts

Request: Bad things happen to good people. Regulus is no exception. The only problem now is Regulus doesn't know if he will be able to fix the bad that has happened not only to himself but to you as well. Life may never be the same ever again.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M- for later chapters and sexual situations.

Song in Chapter: Sky Fall by Adele

_______

“Ambrosia died, did you hear?”

You looked up from the piano that you were playing as Evan flopped down on the sofa nearby. Your older brother looked downright ecstatic to tell you the news that your rival had bitten the dust.

“Hmm.”

You replied. Evan sat up. He expected more “spark” or “pizazz” to come out of your mouth. It was no secret to your older brother that you despised Ambrosia Parkinson with a passion. She literally seemed to exist to make your life miserable. From the time that the two of you were in 1st year, Ambrosia for whatever reason had it out for you. It didn’t matter how often Evan or any of the other boys in Slytherin threatened her, Ambrosia didn’t give up.

“Hmm? Hmm? That is all that you have to say? I tell you that the whore who stole the man that you were in love with kicked the bucket and all you have to say is hmm? Where is my salty sister?”

You smirked. This was a typical Evan/Y/n type conversation. The two of you were the only people in the family that were comfortable with each other enough to speak without thinking to each other. Your mother and father rarely spoke to each other now that both Evan and yourself were adults. If your mother opened her mouth it was to fuss at a servant or throw a fit about something. Your father was so busy working for the dark lord that he was very rarely seen at home.

“Your salty sister is still salty, trust me. You of all people know how I feel...felt about Regulus.”

That was a subject that Evan knew well about. You were supposed to be the girl that Regulus married. The two of you were each other’s first everything until Ambrosia weaseled her way in and probably charmed Regulus with a love spell. That was the best that Evan could come up with. Regulus had been so over the moon in love with you (followed you around like a lovesick puppy, held your hand all the time, walked you to every single class, etc) then all of a sudden he was all over Ambrosia. Maybe Evan was biased but you were so much more beautiful than Ambrosia. You also came from a much better family than Ambrosia. The Rosiers were ten times better than the Parkinsons (at least in Evan’s opinion).

When Regulus left you for the other woman, you were crushed. Evan was furious! It didn’t matter to Evan that Regulus was his best friend. You were his sister and outranked Regulus in Evan’s eyes. It took everything that you, your mother, and your father had to stop Evan from trying to kill Regulus. From that point forward, their friendship was forever to be strained.

“I know very well how you feel about him. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, Y/n, I know that you still love him.”

You rolled your eyes. Evan was right. The fucker was always right about everything (maybe you were thankful for that too). Your brother was the one person that hadn’t let you down and for that, you would be forever grateful.

Standing up from the piano, you didn’t want to think about all of the pain that you had felt since the break up with Regulus. You did everything that you could to forget Regulus but it was hard to forget someone that you had dedicated your whole young life to or who that you loved beyond measure.

Regulus didn’t see the way that your world fell apart or the way that you were screaming in rage when you found out that Ambrosia was pregnant.

The child…

It was Evan that scooped you off of the kitchen floor when you found out that Regulus and Ambrosia were having a child. Now here you stood looking out of the Rosier family manor home wondering just what was going to happen to the child that had to be 5 now.

5 years…

It had been five years since you had seen Regulus. The past five years hadn’t been a complete waste. You had moved to Paris and was now a pretty successful lingerie model (much to your older brother’s embarrassment). If you had married Regulus, as planned, you wouldn’t be having such a successful career. You would be sitting in Grimmauld Place playing the lady of the house once Walburga died.

Walburga was another source of amusement for you. Apparently, she had a royal fit when Regulus ended things with you and went with Ambrosia. The word on the street was that she was yelling so loud that neighbors called the muggle police to investigate a noise complaint. You still giggled at the vision of Walburga Black opening the door and screaming at some poor muggle police officer.

“Y/n, are you hearing me?”

You turned back to your brother, who had finally stood up.

“No, what did you say?”

“I said, you better be ready for Regulus to turn up here to call on you soon.”

You rolled your eyes.

“He would be stupid to do so. If he thinks for one moment that I am going to play mother to his child then he has another thing coming. Regulus Black will have to work really damn hard to get something from Y/n Rosier.”

Evan nodded, appearing pleased with your comment.

“If he does turn up, I want to watch the conversation. The two of you can out-sass each other so well. I thought that I was a sassy bitch but there is now out sassing you two. In all seriousness, I don’t blame you for not wanting to play mother to the little crotch goblin. Regulus even thinking that you will be sitting around waiting for him is almost laughable.”

You sat back down at the piano and smirked at your older brother.

“Crotch goblin? Good one, Evan. You know that I wouldn’t be a good mother. I spend a lot of my time naked how is that healthy for a child? Not very maternal.”

Evan gagged.

“You should feel sorry for me. I can’t look at those magazines anymore.”

“I feel so bad for you.”

You replied in a condescending tone as one of the servants stepped into the room.

“Mr. Rosier, may I speak with you please?”

Evan put the magazine that he was holding down and followed the unnamed servant into the hallway.

“Yes?”

Evan asked, his tone sass as ever. The servant, who had been with the company for years, had to hold back his disapproval for the eldest Rosier child. Evan never bothered to learn everyone’s names nor speak to them unless he had to or needed something.

“Regulus Black is here to see mistress Y/n.”

Evan’s mouth literally dropped.

Damn, that didn’t take him long. Why didn’t I bet on something and earn some money?

Evan thought before reaching out and closing the door to the music room where you sat playing the piano again.

“I’ll speak with him, first.”

The moment Evan stepped into the living room. Regulus was on his feet. Evan had been mentally telling himself to be nice but he opened his mouth and his mother came out.

“It didn’t take you long. Are you here to ask Y/n to marry you so she can take care of your child or are you here to break her heart again? I personally have a problem with both. By the way, you look like hell.”

Regulus fought the urge to throw a hex at Evan. His world was in inner turmoil and he was looking for the one person who made sense in his life...you.

“You don’t look like a rose yourself, Evan. Where is Y/n? I need to talk to her. This is personal.”

Evan crossed his arms over his chest. He was ready to fight if he had to. There was no way in hell that he would let Regulus Black break your heart again. Evan didn’t care if Regulus was his best friend or not.

“Sorry but I am not allowing you to see her. I’m her brother and it's not happening. Shouldn’t you be at home mourning your wife dying not out looking for my sister?”

Regulus’ mouth dropped. In all of his years on the planet, Evan had been the person that had his back. Now here Evan stood looking as if he wanted to rip Regulus’ guts out.

“I know you are mad about Ambrosia but if you knew the truth…”

Evan interrupted before Regulus could finish his sentence.

“What about Ambrosia? The fact that you left my sister for a girl who is named after some god awful nasty fruit salad or the fact that you broke my sister’s heart beyond repair?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“First off, interrupting people is rude. Second, I never loved Ambrosia. Evan, she slipped me a love potion and has been doing it for the past few years.”

Regulus looks confused as hell when Evan began laughing like a maniac. After sitting down and getting his act together, Evan finally looked up.

“I literally just told Y/n that you would claim that.”

Regulus reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a little bottle of Veritaserum. He downed the bottle in front of Evan. His friend only watched him suspiciously as Regulus turned back to him.

“Ask me anything that you want.”

Evan sat up straight and crossed his arms over his chest again.

“We shall start off with something small. What is your name?”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Regulus Arcturus Black. Do you really have to waste time by asking stuff that we both know?”

Evan shrugged.

“Decided to start simple. Did Ambrosia really put you under a love potion?”

Regulus nodded.

“Yes, as I told you before, she has been slipping me love potions for the past few years. That is why I broke up with Y/n. When Ambrosia died, I woke up. I wouldn’t lie to you, Evan. I think that you know me well enough to know that when it comes to Y/n...I would never lie.”

Evan’s typically stuck-up and cold demeanor changed to shock as his mouth dropped. It was exactly what he suspected and here was Regulus telling him the truth. These past few years, everything that you had gone through, was no fault of Regulus’. It was all that horrible bitch’s fault.

I hope she is burning in hell.

Evan thought coldly before looking up.

“God damn it.”

Evan choked out as Regulus sat back down.

“Tell me about it. I woke up with a dead wife that I didn’t want and a child. Mum explained that I left Y/n and I lost it. I think that I made every glass object in the house explode. You have to believe me, Evan, I would never hurt Y/n...especially like this. How is she?”

Evan stood up and moved to pour a glass of brandy for both Regulus and himself. This conversation was going to take a lot of booze. He placed the drink in Regulus’ trembling hand.

“She’s had a hard time, Reg. Y/n has had a very hard time. She was crushed when you married Ambrosia...even worse when the kid was born.”

Regulus put his face in his hands, clearly ashamed of everything that he had done. He had hurt the one person that he vowed to never let down.

“Has she married someone else?”

Regulus asked, his voice trembling. Evan, for a moment, wondered if Regulus was going to burst into tears.

“No. She still loves you. She’s a model now.”

Regulus finally looked up. That bit of information didn’t surprise him. You were beautiful. Why wouldn’t someone want you to model their clothes?

It sounded like you were making it just fine without him which made Regulus wonder if he should just back off and let you live your life? Why would you want him now? He wasn’t the person that he used to be. Regulus had baggage now. He felt guilty thinking about his daughter as baggage. Whether he knew her or not, Regulus already adored his daughter. Phoebe had nothing to do with her mother’s insane horrible plan to ensnare her father. Regulus couldn’t hold that against the child.

Evan, meanwhile, had stood up and went in search of one of the magazines that you were in. Picking one up, he didn’t dare look inside. Knowing that his sister was a lingerie model was enough to make the older brother inside of Evan seethe. He hated all of the horny hyped-up on Viagra shitheads that had to be looking at your body now.

“Thanks to you, Ambrosia, and that damned love potion I can’t look at a lingerie magazine anymore without seeing my half-naked sister or her bare ass.”

Regulus frowned as he snatched the magazine away from Evan. What the fuck was he talking about? Regulus thumbed through the magazine realizing it was for lingerie. His mouth dropped the moment that he came across your photo. You lay before him dressed in an emerald green bustier with a matching garter belt and thong.

“She….does this for a living?”

Regulus gasped. This was stuff that you were only supposed to wear for him. The knowledge that other men and women too were seeing you dressed like this; the jealous lover in Regulus began to fume. He was livid!

Evan nodded.

“Again, I can’t look at lingerie ads the same anymore.”

Regulus ran a hand through his hair before jumping up.

“You poor baby! Where is Y/n? I have to talk to Y/n before she starts taking all of her clothes off.”

Evan winced.

“Don’t turn to page 75 then. That’s the see-through section.”

Regulus’ scowl intensified leaving Evan wondering if he was actually in danger? Before Evan could grab the magazine, Regulus turned to page 75 and blushed.

“Oh, bloody hell!”

Evan reached out and grabbed his friend’s wrist.

“Let me just take you to, Y/n.”

Regulus followed Evan up the stairs and to the music room, where you had not left the piano. What Regulus was going to say? How he was going to talk rationally without thinking of the magazine was beyond him. Just thinking of how you looked in the magazine was giving Regulus the beginnings of an erection.

Holy fucking damn, has it really been five years since I have been with Y/n? Damn it.

Regulus thought miserably as the soothing sound of your singing caught his attention. Normally your voice was everything that he needed to calm down. Today, he wasn’t so sure that would even help him….

Where you go, I go. What you see, I see. I know I'd never be me. Without the security. Of your loving arms. Keeping me from harm. Put your hand in my hand. And we'll stand. Let the sky fall. When it crumbles. We will stand tall. Face it all together

Regulus sighed...

"It will probably be a cold day in hell before any of that happens."

___________

@amelie-black @regulusslut @truly-insatiable @fandomsxxregulus @realgaytrash @lucasfilms77 @exhsle @quuenofblacks @hazncalsgal @teletubiswszpilkach @mimisparkle12 @fific7 @acciosiriusblack @jessyballet @knreidy1 @bennyberry @rubyroscoe1 @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @spiderxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @marichromatic @stuckinsaudi1 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner

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spencerreidslove · 4 years

Text

Matchmaker

A/N it’s a little long, bear with me. Mostly fluff. Set around season 15

————

Being a 1st grade teacher was the dream job.

Well, most of the time it was the dream job. The days when you had to capture a spider while several screaming 6 and 7 year olds run around behind you weren’t the best.

It was your second year of teaching 1st grade and it was the second day of school. After the spider fiasco, you were a little tired, and as much as you loved your students, dismissal was also a good part of the day.

All the students filled out of your classroom, and you turned away from the door to see that not all of your students had left.

There was a girl, with curly brown hair and wide eyes still sitting at her desk. She was frowning and clutching a stuffed bunny.

You were still learning names, and you were 90% sure you knew her name. Margaret Reid.

You took a chair off the desk in across of hers and sat beside her.

“Margaret?” You asked. “Did you hear me? I said you could go get picked up now.”

“I know.” She mumbled.

Margaret didn’t seem to want to say more.

“Who normally picks you up?” You asked.

“My daddy. If he’s not here than my Uncle Derek or Mrs. McComb who lives next door.” Margaret timidly replied before hugging her bunny tighter.

“Do you know where your daddy is?” You asked. If she needed to be somewhere you had to be sure to get her there.

“He’s late. My daddy works for the FBI. That’s like the police but better.” She said.

You smiled. Margaret seemed shy and not willing to say much else.

“Really? Than he must be really smart. Just like you.” You said.

“My daddy is really smart. He’s a docta but not the kind you go to when you get sick. He’s read like a bajillion books and knows everything. He named me after a really smart girl who made it so we could go to the moon.” Margaret said.

Apparently asking about her dad was one way to get her to open up.

“What else?” You asked.

“He remembers everything. All the time. It’s a e-something memory.” She said.

“He sounds very nice. But if he’s late I’m going to need to know.” You said.

Margaret frowned and then snuggled half her face back down into her stuffed rabbit.

“What about your bunny?” You asked, touching the toy’s nose.

“Her name is Lily. Can she sit with me please? In Kindergarten my teacher said she had to stay in my bag all day.” Margaret said, hugging the plush toy closer.

“As long as she doesn’t distract you and you can get all your work done.” You said.

“Lily helps me with my work. She’s really smart.” Margaret said.

“Since your daddy’s late I’m going to have to call the office and see what we can do. Would you like to draw a picture while you wait?” You asked.

Margaret nodded. You went over to the drawers where you kept the crayons and paper and brought her back a box and a couple pieces of paper. You turned back to your desk, about to call the office, then-

“Miss Y/L/N?” Margaret said.

“Yes sweetheart?” You said.

“Can you please call me Maggie? Only my Uncle Hotch calls me Margaret.” She said, not looking up from her drawing.

“Ok.” You said.

You called the office and five minutes later, a tall, lanky man with wild curly hair came into your classroom. He was wearing a white button up shirt with a dark blue sweater vest over it and and dark jacket.

“Daddy!” Maggie said, jumping up from her seat and giving him a hug around his legs. He laughed and picked her up, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Maggie took Lily and made her give her father a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” Maggie’s father said. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or Maggie.

“It’s ok.” Maggie said. “Miss Y/L/N let me color.”

Her dad turned her attention to you.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Y/L/N. Sorry I’m late, I would say it won’t happen again, but it might.” He said.

“It’s ok. Nice to meet you too, Mr. Reid.” You said.

“It’s docta!” Maggie said.

“Sorry, Dr. Reid.” You said, correcting yourself.

“Don’t worry about it. Again, I’m sorry for being late.”

You shook your head and smiled. “It’s alright. I normally stay behind after school anyway.” You said.

“Well, Maggie, go get your bag. I have to go back to work but you’re going to spend time with Auntie Penelope ok?” Dr. Reid said, putting Maggie down.

He had a bright smile and watched as his daughter dashed across the classroom.

“She speaks very highly of you. She says you’re very smart and I guess you would have to be if you’ve read a bajillon books.” You said.

Dr. Reid laughed. “Not quiet a bajillion but I’m getting there.” He said.

Maggie ran back over holding a bright pink backpack with a unicorn on it.

“If you know what days you’re going to be late, I would be more than happy to let Maggie stay in the classroom til you get here.” You said.

“I couldn’t possibly accept that. I’m sure you have things to do.” Dr. Reid said.

“Please, Daddy? I like her. She lets me hold Lily with me all day.” Maggie said, holding up her bunny.

“It’s no problem at all, Dr. Reid.” You said.

“All right. But please call me Spencer.” He said.

“Y/N.” You said.

After waving goodbye to Maggie you turned back to your desk. You were looking forward to seeing Spencer when he picked up Maggie.

Spencer stepped off the elevator at Quantico, holding Maggie’s hand.

“There she is! And with her new backpack too!” Garcia said coming down the hallway.

“Auntie Penelope!” Maggie yelled, letting go of Spencer’s hand and running to Garcia. Garcia leaned over and gave Maggie a hug.

“You are going to come hang out with me, you magical little munchkin!” Garcia said, waving the colorful pen in her hand and tapping Maggie on the nose with it.

“Sorry we’re late Garcia.” Spencer said.

“Almost fifteen minutes late. What happened?” Garcia asked.

“Uh...traffic.” Spencer said.

“Noooo.” Maggie said to her dad before turning to Garcia. “We’re late because Daddy was busy smiling at Miss Y/L/N.”

“Miss Y/L/N?” Garcia asked, a smirking coming on her face.

“She’s my teacher, and she’s pretty like a Disney Princess. Daddy was smiling at her like he does when he talks about books.” Maggie said, matter-o-factly.

“We have so much to discuss. Tell me, what’s Miss Y/L/N’s first name?” Garcia asked leading Maggie down the hall to her lair.

“Garcia, don’t you dare search her up!” Reid called out after her. He turned to the doors of the BAU and startled to see Rossi standing there, stirring a cup of coffee.

“So...a pretty 1st grade teacher.” Rossi said.

“Don’t.” Reid said, brushing past him.

“How pretty is she?” Rossi asked.

“Very.” Reid mumbled to himself as he made his way to his desk.

You had grown accustom to seeing Spencer after almost every school day, unless he was out of town. You weren’t sure what he did for the FBI but he travelled a lot.

The days he was out of town, Maggie normally got picked up by a man you learned was her Uncle Derek, who she was very close with.

(“Did you know my middle name is Morgan because Uncle Derek’s last name is Morgan?”)

One day, after school you were hanging things up on the board you used to display student work while Maggie colored.

As you hung up the last picture you turned and saw her smiling at the board.

Before you could ask her what she was smiling about, Spencer came into the room.

“Daddy, Daddy, look! My rainbow’s on the good work board!” Maggie said, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the board where you had just finished putting up her drawing of a rainbow.

“What! That’s awesome Maggie!” Spencer said, giving her a hug.

“It’s a very nice rainbow.” You said.

“I tried to make it pretty like Miss Y/L/N.” Maggie said looking at you.

“Well I think your rainbow is even prettier than me.” You said.

Maggie shook her head.

“Nuh-uh. Tell her how she’s prettier than my rainbow.” Maggie said, turning to Spencer.

You blushed a little bit as Spencer looked up at you from where he was crouched next to Maggie.

“Go on, tell her!” Maggie said before turning to you. “I heard my Uncle Luke tell Auntie Penelope that Daddy thinks you’re pretty.”

You blushed and covered your mouth to keep from smiling.

“I-uh-I didn’t say that.” Spencer said, standing up.

“That’s a lie and you said I shouldn’t tell lies.” Maggie said. “Uncle Luke also said that you should grow a pair and ask her to dinner.”

“We’re going to have a conversation with Uncle Luke about what’s appropriate to say in front of you.” Spencer said, blushing and grabbing Maggie’s hand, desperate to get out of the classroom.

As Spencer awkwardly waved bye to you and dragged Maggie out of the classroom, you heard her say; “Auntie Emily and Uncle Dave also have a bet about when you too are gonna-“

You didn’t hear the end of that sentence as she was dragged too far down the hall, but you started blushing profusely and covered your face with your hands. You really like Spencer, and his daughter had just embarrassed both of you.

A few minutes later, the door to your room opened again and Spencer stepped in again.

Determined not to make a fool out of yourself, you calmly asked, “Did Maggie forget something?”

“Yeah.” Spencer paused as he walked over to Maggie’s desk and picked up Lily. “But... I was also wondering if maybe sometime you’d like to get dinner with me. You don’t have to after what just happened, but-“

“I would love to.” You said. You quickly scribbled down your phone number on a sticky note and handed it to him. “Call and tell me when.”

As Spencer took the post-it, his hand lingered on yours for a second and smiled.

Part 2?

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #spencer x reader #fem!reader #criminal minds #father spencer reid #david rossi #penelope garcia #emily prentiss

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shiversdownyerspine · 3 years

Text

12. Touch

Miss me? :D

18+

Cheeks still burning from the prior antics of the Swedish men in your living room, you toss your leggings and underwear haphazardly to your laundry basket as you hear Otto enter their guestroom to change. Normally you would have had the presence of mind to hold on to your perfectly fine leg wear, but you're a bit distracted with the lingering sensation of skin against skin and have gone into auto pilot.

Shiver curling down your spine at the memory of their teasing, you try to focus on the soft patter of rain against your bedroom window as you pace to your dresser for a change of clothes. To no avail, the rain isn't enough to keep you distracted.

Axel and Oscar had gotten you good, and just when you thought Otto had offered you respite from his roguish siblings, the biggest of the brothers had snuck in a cheeky kiss!

Well...a kiss on the cheek, to be precise.

Grabbing up replacement leggings and underwear, you refuse to let your mind sink into the concept of kisses. Because if you did, you would start thinking about lip to lip kisses instead. And your poor heart has just managed to settle its rapid pace, you don't need any more stimulation.

Clothing donned and dress smoothed, you breathe in, hold it, and breathe out. It doesn't eradicate the jittery butterflies as you had hoped it would, but it does help soothe them somewhat. Looking to your bathroom, you tiptoe to the door and quietly peek inside.

Looks like Thing 1 and 2 could care less about storms; curled up together inside the sink, the two appear to be enjoying a nap. Even with a soft lingering rumble of thunder, they are still. Not a twitch of the ear or tail to be seen. Hm. Might as well let them snooze. If the storm gets heavy, you'll check on them again.

Trusting that the kittens are house broken, you leave the bathroom door open a crack as a nice surprise for them and grab up the towel before heading out of your room. You'll have to remind yourself to do a load of laundry tonight. As you wander over to the washer to deposit the towel, your ears pick up the sound of the brothers softly conversing in Swedish. The squeak of the washing machine door seems to interrupt the conversation, and as you pop the door closed and wander back out to the living room, you find the brothers looking quite expectantly at you from the sofa.

Or at least Axel and Otto are on the sofa, Oscar had gotten up to give Butternut some attention. Still barechested, he cocks his head inquisitively at you.

"Kattungar...kittens good?"

"Mhm, they're napping. They don't really seem bothered by the storm so I'll leave them be for now."

Oscar nods, satisfied as he scratches a furry chin before lifting the fluffball up to deposit her on the armchair next to the sofa. Content on her throne, the cat purrs away as Oscar kneels in front of her to give extra scritches.

Armchair occupied, you sit in the only available spot on the sofa, settling comfortably on the end next to Axel. It would seem that when Otto had changed he had also grabbed his brothers some upper clothing, but the youngest had decided to use his as a makeshift cushion for Butternut's throne.

Clearing your throat, you pick up where you left off, "Sooo...yes, I have a 2nd Phase. And I'm not going to answer any questions about it, as the original intent was to stick to questions about my 1st Phase."

Hoping to get back on track, you watch as Oscar leaves Butternut to her oh so comfy chair and settles down next to you on the floor with his back against the sofa. He cranes his head a bit to watch you, face scrunched in thought. Mind made up, he raises his chin in defiance and says a single word.

"One."

You stiffen, looking down at a stubbornly focused Oscar. One, is it? Of course there is no doubt to what he is referring to; he wants a question, a single question about your 2nd Phase.

Arms folded, thoughts ebb and flow as you consider his request. How much would this effect you? Effect them? Would they even ask something you could answer? Regardless of the question they decide on, this is quite the heavy topic for you.

But they are now aware that you can be dangerous, and it's just one question after all.

Feeling their eyes on you, waiting patiently, your gaze drifts to your knees with a sigh.

"Just. One," You acquiesce, softening as the words slip from your lips.

Oscar perks up with eager surprise, prompting you to warn, "But keep in mind, I might not even be able to answer. My 2nd Phase is...complicated in a way. There's not much I can say because I don't know much about it."

Feeling Axel's eyes burning into you with arguably the most intensity, you peer to the side to address something that had been lingering on the edge of your mind since you woke in Otto's arms, "And could I ask for something in return?"

You take the curious tilt of the man's head as a good sign that he'd at least hear you out, which he confirms, "Yes. But it depends."

A bit bashful, you murmur, "Fair enough, it is sort of an odd request. Would you like to ask your question first?"

Axel throws a pointed stare to Oscar, a clear warning that he had better not try to steal this question as he had done previously. The youngest just relaxes comfortably back against the sofa, content to leave the rest up to his older siblings. In the meantime, he curiously eyes your leggings...something is odd...

Otto watches the eldest, knowing he was carefully considering options. If he had to guess, Axel was most likely trying to figure out what question would lead to giving them the most information. The oldest would have to compromise, seeing as how you had given them a limit. The mystery is tempting to linger on, but honestly Otto is more curious about just what you want to ask of them, what you could possibly want that the three could give.

Finally Axel decides upon the question, it's deceptive in its simplicity.

"What are differences between 1st Phase and 2nd?"

You relax, appreciative that this won't pry too much into your history nor ask that you go into detail about a certain something that the higher ups would rather you not mention.

"Really you can think of my 2nd Phase as being the natural progression of my 1st. If my 1st Phase is for when I'm hurt, then my 2nd Phase is for when I'm dying."

Fidgeting, your hands lightly clasp together as you continue, "I have more feathers, not just the.. fluffy down, but semiplume and contour feathers. More scales, but bigger. Much, much longer claws with a slight curve, and enhanced regeneration and senses. That's about it, I think."

There is further detail you could go into about the...visceral nature of your healing in that state, but you'd rather not. Not right now, but maybe another time. The brothers give a silent pause, one of acceptance, you hope, and then ask when you first discovered your ability.

Your hand drifts to the back of your neck, "Well, I discovered the feathers on my nape first. Very strange, almost panicked and tried to rip them out but eventually I just...got used to them. Surprisingly quickly. Kept them hidden as much as possible, so I would never let our caretaker cut my hair, no ponytails or buns or braids or anything. She was not pleased with me being a 'wild child' and 'rebelling'."

You grin, "One time, she had had enough and announced that next morning she would be cutting my hair short, right to my ears. And that there was no way I was getting out of it and I'd get no supper until it was done."

Otto questions, "Did she..?"

"Oh no, I um...that night after everyone went to bed, I crept out and hid every pair of scissors I could find. Even the pair in her office, had to sneak in through the window for that one. I was pretty thorough, come morning she couldn't find any, and by dinnertime she had given up. She couldn't prove it was me, but she gave me the stink eye for weeks."

Oscar sighs dramatically, "No dinner."

"Ah see, she tried to stick to her guns, but she was a big softie; came knocking on my door with a plate for me, but said, 'Only proper ladies get to eat with everyone, you will be eating alone to think about what you've done.' I should have just kept quiet but...I asked her what exactly I had done, and her face went so red! Didn't say a word and just walked right out, mumbling to herself the whole time."

Shaking your head with a soft smile, you murmur, "I caused that woman so much grief. Never really meant to...not usually."

Axel gets you back on track with an amused hum, "First Phase?"

"Well...I liked to climb trees when I was young. Quite a lot. But one day after a heavy storm...I think I was ten?...I slipped and landed badly, right on top of my wrist. I heard it crack and then suddenly...there it was. I noticed the changes and hurled myself into the forest as fast as I could before anyone could see me. Sat under a tree for a couple of hours, trying to figure out what happened. Then I realized that my arm was feeling better until eventually it didn't hurt at all. The changes went away soon after."

Everything had been so chaotic back then, nothing made sense anymore. The world had been turned on its head. And you had suddenly been given new rules to play by in hopes of keeping a secret you hadn't really known how to keep at the time.

"I stayed in the woods a while longer, not really sure what to do, worried it would come back. I was getting hungry and it was getting dark and cold, so that helped me make up my mind. I went back and...adapted. I couldn't let anyone see that side of me. People who are different aren't treated all that kindly. And I'm as different as they come, to say the least."

Otto frowns, expression lightly sullen before he points out the inevitable, "But you were found."

You hesitate a moment before relenting, "Mhm. When I was twelve years old a man broke the rules and faced the consequences. I suppose I did too, in a way."

A vague explanation. But it was something, some small piece of the puzzle.

The brothers had been wondering when and how you had gotten the attention of the Commission for recruitment. It was extremely rare, but sometimes adults with abilities were considered. However given your current role, perhaps it was decided you weren't fit for field or office work? It was very strange that the company would go out of its way to accommodate you like this, pretty much unheard of. Why would the Commission even consider this sort of work in the first place? The concerns of their employees are seldom acknowledged, so this was a little absurd.

Axel addresses this, "Your role in the Commission, how did it happen?"

The raised eyebrow you throw at him says it all; you've answered this question before, multiple times. What is he expecting to find?

He rephrases, "Not the usual work, instead they offer you this role in particular. Completely new role. Why?"

Mild surprise crosses your features; that's a good question, and given the previous conversation it shows they've still been wondering how your ability could possibly play a part in the Commission's interest in you. Not that you had expected them to drop it completely.

You give an honest answer.

"They most likely didn't think I was fit for any other role, maybe didn't trust me on the field given the nature of my ability. Can you imagine what would happen if I was on a mission and had my ability recorded and distributed? Sure they could probably cover it up as a hoax, but still! The sheer scale of the mess they'd have to clean up, the paperwork alone would be a nightmare. There's only so much I can do to prevent my changes. Besides, my 2nd Phase isn't the most...subtle."

A short wry laugh leaves your lips as you continue, "All in all, I think I'd be more trouble than I'd be worth. As for a desk job...well....could you imagine yourselves working in an office, stapling, photocopying, pushing papers for a living?"

Axel gives a huff of a laugh as his brothers grimace in disgust. Point taken.

"No offense to the people who do that sort of thing. And I do have to research and take notes when I'm taking care of my animals and my home, so there's still an aspect of that. But those lines of work weren't even offered. It was either this or..."

Oscar's brow furrows, "..Or?"

"..or basically be seen as an anomaly myself and responded to as such."

There's a pregnant pause as the brothers uncomfortably consider the choice given to you. It wasn't all that odd, the company has been known to strong-arm some prospective agents. But the choices given to you at the time, to die or become, of all things, an animal caretaker? That was bizarre.

Perhaps there was something they weren't seeing.

You sigh in response to their silence, "I can understand how they would be concerned that I might one day become a threat. I can't expect them to just leave it to chance."

Oscar nudges your leg with an elbow, prompting you to turn your attention to him.

"Trust issues."

With a smile you return the nudge with your knee, giggling when he curls his arm around your lower leg for a possessive squeeze, "I think that's something every powerful corporation has in common."

Another rumble of thunder has you peering at the window; it would seem the storm has grown a bit, if the considerable amount of rain assaulting the glass isn't evidence enough. Nothing too bad though.

A brush to your arm redirects your attention; Axel pulls his hand back, resting it on his thigh as he asks what your request is.

The butterflies are back, despite your best efforts.

"Like I said, it's a little strange."

You peer down at your hands, pushing yourself onwards, "If I am overstepping boundaries, please let me know, but...it has to do with my condition. Last night was fairly bad, so I want to see if I can keep it from getting to such a point. At least until I can find something more permanent."

Professional. That's what this has to be, what you have to be. Otherwise your face is going to erupt into flames.

Their eyes on you are heavy, quizzical yet patient. Otto's suspicions, however, are quickly being aroused.

"So..seeing as how...physical contact works? That's what I'm asking for."

There. It's out. Now it's up to them.

And yet you can't help but still feel a bit...twitchy. On edge. It's as if something has changed, the air feels almost...charged.

The eldest brother throws professionalism out the window.

"You want us to touch you?"

Axel's question is murmured softly, yet the way it pierces your heart is in clear contrast. His words slide over your skin and between your legs in a provocative tingle.

The deer in headlights look that you sport is too charming. The brothers half-expect you to scold their older brother's subtly vulgar teasing, but to their surprise after a second you're heaving a heavy sigh and nodding.

"Basically, yes."

With a huff you defend your request, "Otherwise I will most likely be hoarding all the hot drinks in this house and waking you all up late in the night."

You don't know for sure if it would work, as even without the chill of winter you had still needed a warm embrace. Otto's hands on you hadn't been enough. Your body had insisted on more to the point that you had thrown caution to the wind, scooted in close, and wrapped your arms around his neck. Still you had hope that even if this didn't work completely, you could still greatly delay reaching that point.

Oscar peers out the window at the weather; Fall is approaching, and thus an even bigger issue for your condition is looming on the horizon, "Winter?"

"Okay so..when the cold season comes...I have a feeling I'd need more..of...um," your hand rises to sheepishly rub your brow, "..of what happened with you, Otto."

Otto perks up, but masks his interest as he considers your approaching problem with a serious disposition, all while recalling the weight of you in his arms as he carried you, how snuggly you had pressed to him as you slept. He knew he wouldn't mind a repeat. He knew his brothers wouldn't mind having you wrapped around them either.

The youngest can't resist teasing, "You liked sleeping with Otto? Want us too? Girig tjej."

Flustered but cautiously optimistic that they hadn't refused yet, you murmur, "Only if you're all comfortable with it. It was nice being able to sleep through the night."

A soft tug on a lock of your hair gives Axel your full attention. He lightly strokes the wisps between thumb and forefinger, watching the strands separate and gather back together before his eyes bore into yours. His hand leaves your hair to return once more to his thigh, "We will help. If you are reaching limit, you tell us."

Little did you know, the brothers had already been planning on having this little chat about your condition with you. You have been good to them, so they had wanted to return the favor. Eye for an eye. They had originally planned on inquiring about space heaters or fireplaces but are quite pleased with the direction the conversation went instead. Perhaps they could bring up the other methods at a..better time.

Before you can thank the three or ask them about any other questions, you jolt, feeling a hand cup your calf and slide up.

You blink down at the top of the culprit's head, a fluttery emotion curling lightly in your chest.

"..Oscar?"

His hand softly squeezes as its owner turns to look at you, your leggings, and then back to you before he asks, "Different?"

...You have got to be kidding.

Realization dusts your cheeks pink, "Oh! Yes, uh..the water."

Otto tilts his head, regarding your clothing with curiosity.

Your change of leggings have been noticed. It's fine. This is fine. Everything is..

The question the youngest asks you is innocence peppered with a tinge of pseudo guilt, "I got you wet?"

Fudge.

He did. But it wasn't just him.

Fighting to keep your tone under control, you respond, "Just a little, you were still a bit damp from outside."

But if that was the case, why hadn't you also changed your dress? You pray they avoid that little detail.

Oscar gleefully waits for his brothers to catch up.

The two confused siblings eye your returning flush with mild interest before suspicion transitions quickly to hesitant disbelief.

Otto's eyes flash from your face to your lap and back up, fingers twitching as stubborn questions demand his utmost attention; how wet had you been? Could you have taken a finger? Two? With lidded eyes and red face, he directs his gaze away to the window in hopes of a distraction. It doesn't work.

Axel's breath catches and holds in his lungs, jaw tense as he recalls the slight almost imperceptible wobble of your legs when Otto had helped you remove yourself from them. Lustful frustration flares his nostrils as his own traitorous mind proposes a rhetorical question and also supplies possible answers; what had you done after you had escaped to your room? Ignored your body's need or...

Oscar glances from your face to his brothers and smirks. Mission clearly accomplished. As for whether or not their teasing had resulted in a wet pair of panties...well. The image itself is potent enough that his curiosity is sated. However he does allow himself a moment to wonder about that little article of clothing; the color, the texture, bows or lace, maybe both?

Still feigning innocence, the man slips his hand down your calf to wrap loosely around your ankle. He leans in and plants a quick kiss at the side of your knee, an action that immediately draws a reaction. As well as the attention of his brothers. The tension in the siblings is quickly reaching its limit; fraying and delicate, demanding to snap.

Bashful, you wiggle your leg but he refuses to grant you freedom, "You'll have to let go eventually, you know."

Tutting softly, Oscar coos, "Thought you wanted more touch? For cold."

Glancing up and down his bare upper torso, you say ever so matter-of-factly, "If anyone's cold right now, it's you Mister."

With a daring move, you rip a couple of fibers of that fragile thread yourself; sliding your hands deep into the folds of the quilt on your lap, you lunge. Before Oscar can react, still distracted by alluring thoughts of you, he's being smothered by the thick, soft material. It's for his own good, don't want him getting sick, after all.

Your ankle is released as the younger brother flails beneath, all the while snarling ferociously yet ineffectively. Grasping a throw pillow to use as a shield, you lift your legs up to the cushions and shuffle away from him and closer to Axel. You hadn't even noticed that the eldest had moved his arm up to the top of the sofa and was watching amused as you pressed right into his side.

Biting your lip to smother your laughter, you watch as Oscar finally breaks free from his prison; hair disheveled and face scrunched, he twists to stare you down, quilt dangling from his shoulder. Before he can get a foot under him to stand, a pillow beams him in the side of the head with wicked speed and accuracy, almost knocking the youngest off balance.

Axel takes a moment to admire Otto's throw before returning his attention to you, his face inches away. Your arm is wrapped tight around your plush shield, hugging it to you as you bury your giggles behind your free hand. He breathes deep, each breath filling his lungs with apples and cinnamon, good enough to eat.

Oscar glowers indignantly at Otto as a flash of lightning splits the air, followed quickly by a noisy crack of thunder. The brothers tilt their heads up to listen, distracted by the storm and then by the orange feline voicing her unhappiness on Otto's lap. You blink, registering where exactly you are...it's going to take some time to get used to being in close contact with them. Your thoughts are interrupted as the scent of cedar and sage drifts into your senses and warms your belly, the warmth of the man at your side now burning hot.

What have you gotten yourself into.

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Kattungar- Kittens

Girig tjej- Greedy girl

#tua The Swedes #Axel x Reader #Otto x Reader #Oscar x Reader #Ikea Mafia #The Swedes #tua Swedes #the swedes x reader #umbrella academy swedes #tua Axel #tua Otto #tua Oscar

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iguessilovebakugou · 3 years

Text

Beautiful || {Dabi/F!Reader} --- Heathers: The Musical -- Cause I’m a stupid fuck who can’t control themselves

Me: *Doesn’t post anything for 2 years*

Also Me when Dabi is on screen at any point ever: 👁👄👁

I’m also throwing this out there because like...I highly doubt anyone still looks at my blog, so I can hide my fucking shame that I’ve been thinking of this idea on and off for almost 2 years now.

Now...spoilers under the cut because I have to explain some things...

I know they just recently announced that Dabi “died” when he was a kid. So I will have to specify that I’m aging him up to be 17, since that would just...make sense?

-- -- -- --

“Venti salted caramel coldbrew, extra foam.”

There was a raid against villains that day. It had been the only thing anyone could talk about.

You had overheard the editors talking about it as they made their coffee. It was a good thing, right, that they were taking the fight to the bad guys? That not all hope had been lost? Most people just wanted an ounce of good news. Some confirmation that the way of things would hold strong - a nice sugar coat to swallow the hard pill. Though, it seemed like all any report worth their salt - you included - could discuss was the fall of society, what people were going to do if...or...when, rather, the heroes were yanked from their spot light and cast down in the dirt with the rest of civilization.

You weren’t a giant fan of them, considering, but you understood the necessity for someone to hold the mantle - someone who guaranteed the safety the mass populous required to keep them from falling to complete anarchy.

Your phone buzzed as a message appeared at the top, blocking the article’s title from view. Your boss, Fumihiro...again...for the 8th time since you left the office.

[INCOMING MSG] :: Where are you right now?

“Venti salted caramel cold brew, extra foam for...”

Your brows furrowed, your stance shifting from one foot to the other.

[OUTGOING MSG] :: Getting the coffee.

[OUTGOING MSG] :: Why? Want me to get you something?

Heroes. The way of things. Society.

Most people didn’t seem to care too much about it once their phones locked and it was out of their line of sight. When the terrible wasn’t in your face, it was easy to forget that everything hung on a tiny thread that was always threatening to snap. It was hard, you figured, to care about the state of the world when you were more concerned about mundane matters that were pressing in the moment. The rest of the world seems small when you have everything else to pressure you. It was easy to forget.

[INCOMING MSG] :: www.wtxz319.rdio.com/live/93901_error

[INCOMING MSG] :: u need to watch this

You wished you could forget about it. Wished that it hadn’t been looming over your head since...well...

Your thumb hovered over the link, the screen went black and a stream started loading. Some radio podcast? You read the title: ENDEVOUR TAKING ON U-A’S BEST AND BRIGHTEST?! UNLIKELY SON AND FATHER DUO?

“Venti salted caramel cold brew, extra foam!!”

Your heart leapt up into your throat as your eyes met the kid behind the counter. He paused only a moment before using his fingers to nudge your drink closer to edge.

“Oh. Sor-”

“Have a good one.”

You locked your phone as you shoved it into your back pocket, grabbed your drink and made a beeline towards the door. The streets were busy, given the hour. You had just enough time to get back to the office and finish your article on before the evening - just enough time for an editor to look it over, to do some quick fixes and-

You phone buzzed again, and Fumihiro’s face once again flashed on the screen.

[INCOMING MSG] :: Did you see it?

[INCOMING MSG] :: We need to be the first people on this. I don’t care about what else you were working on. This is more important.

You stopped at the crosswalk, staring at your phone and ignoring the woman who had to move around you with a huff. But...you were so close to getting to the meat of what the Safety Commission was hiding. You were so close getting to the heart of it all and, maybe - just maybe - throwing away some of the uncertainty that was hanging over everyone’s head after All Might’s retirement.

After the weeks you spent staking out police stations, hounding hero agencies, digging through dumpsters for any shred of proof the Pros and Police were hiding something - the favors you had to call in for breadcrumbs and scraps alone?! And just like that, he wanted you to drop it all? For what? Some stupid radio show speculation?

You didn’t hesitate to hit the phone icon in the upper corner, stomping towards the intersection.

“Hey-” You cut Fumi before he could even finish your name.

“What do you mean ‘drop the article’? Do you know-”

“I don’t care! This is bigger!!”

“What’s bigger than-”

“Did you even watch the link I sent you? Every station across Japan is getting hacked and it’s been playing on loop for a few minutes now on a few stations. It’s slowly moving to others now.”

“Fumi what the hell are you talking about!?”

“I, TOUYA TODOROKI, WAS BORN THE ELDEST SON OF ENDEVOUR.”

It...was hard to think for a moment. Like a memory, reaching up from the dirt to grab you, to finally take you down to hell.

That voice.

It felt like he was right in your ear, in your head. It had been so long since he had done it to you, since he...no...not him. He was dead. His father confirmed it. You confirmed it. You knew he was gone and there was no bringing him back and -

“I’VE KILLED OVER 30 INNOCENT PEOPLE UNTIL NOW.”

No. No, no no no no it wasn’t in your head - because if it had been, the sound of blood pounding in your ears wouldn’t be able to mask it so well. You froze, your hands shaking as your breath caught in your throat. It couldn’t be him. I couldn’t, it couldn’t...

“You need to get back to the office - I want you on this. I already have a copy of it in case you can’t screen capture it -”

“I WOULD LIKE TO LET EVERYONE KNOW WHY I’D END UP COMMITING SUCH A HIDEOUS ACT.”

Because you’re a fucking monster.

Someone next to you stopped and looked up. Then another and then another. You knew what they were looking at. Who they were looking at. And still, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. You couldn’t do it - not again. Not now. Not after so many years of him being dead and buried where he deserved to be.

But he always had a hold on you. Something that drew you to him. And so...you looked up.

And as your phone and drink clattered to your feet, you felt the world stop.

“...Touya?”

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

September 1st, 20xx

Dear Diary - I believe I’m a good person. You know? Like, I believe there’s good in everyone. But um...here we are! First day of our Senior Year and I look around at the kids I’ve known for so long and I can’t help but think to myself - what happened?

You hadn’t really wanted to be friends with the Nori’s. Not really. They were stuck up snobs who made everyone below them miserable. But there was a power to them that everyone respected. You had been taught that knowledge held power. And the Nori’s had power because everyone knew if you double crossed them, your life would be a living fucking hell.

“Ah, Nori and Nori.”

You grimaced into your knees as Nori Ueda vomited for a third time since you had been hiding out in the bathroom. The teacher paused before sighing. “And Nori. Perhaps you didn’t hear the bell? You’re late for class.”

“Nori’s sick! We’re helping her.”

You had given the low price of just sitting at their lunch table - once, no talking would be necessary - in the hopes people would leave you alone. It was a simple fact of life: Where there are teenagers, there are winners and there are losers. And you had spent the majority of your High School career on the low end of the totem pole. You were so low, in fact, it seemed talking to you was all but taboo. Anything other than bullying, shoving into lockers, or calling out unfortunate break outs was strictly forbidden by anyone not wanting to suffer the same fate.

But the Nori’s? Solid Teflon: never bothered. Never harassed like you had been. They had a mystique, a pull, a confidence that couldn’t be matched. And you would have killed to be like them.

Perhaps that why you reached into backpack and yanked out the pad of hall pass papers.

You opened the stall door and slipped out, making your wave over to the group. Nori Ueda wiped her mouth. Nori Makino was leaning against the bathroom counter, focusing on making sure her bright red lipstick was perfectly placed. And Nori Kaneko? She was staring down the teacher, hands on her hips, completely equal and completely ready to start a fight.

The teacher laughed, so sure and so pleased that she had been the one to stumble upon the trio in the bathroom. “Not without a hall pass, you’re not. A week’s detention.”

“Uh...ma’am.” Your voice trembled out and reverberated off the tiled wall. It had been louder than you originally intended. Everyone turned quickly to you, only for their attention to be immediately drawn to your outstretched hand you held. “All of us are out on a hall pass...yearbook committee.”

She snatched it from you. For a moment, she simply glanced back between you, the paper, then the Nori’s, then back. After a heavy moment, she nodded. “It looks like you’re all listed.”

Nori Kaneko took it from the teacher, looking it over herself. You tried not to make eye contact as she looked at you. You instead focused on the teacher as she made her way towards the bathroom door. “Hurry up and get where you’re going.”

You heaved a sigh of relief.

“This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?”

You stuttered your name, shrinking under her sharp gaze. “I uh...I crave a boon.”

“What boon?” You weren’t sure if she was simply aggravated you had dared do more than answer the questions she asked or if the annoyance was just a constant manner of speaking for her.

You could forge anything thanks to your quirk - Copy. All you had to do was see someone or something once or twice, focus on it as best as you could and like that, you could be that person. From their mannerisms, their voice, to their penmanship. Its why you stole the pad of hall passes, to skip class whenever you wanted, to have an excuse to be hiding out in the bathroom.

It had worked...sometimes...

You stuttered out your name. You could see the two Nori’s snicker in the background. They had no clue who you were. It was...somewhat insulting. Their “friends” had done their best to make your life a living hell and yet you had flown under their radar.

Your eyes darted between the three of them. Nori Kaneko stared down at you, foot tapping and arms crossed as she took you in. You couldn’t help but feel like a prey animal, stuck in the line of sight of the Apex Predator.

But your mama didn’t raise no quitter. You swallowed and stood up just a bit straighter. “Let me sit with you at lunch, once. No talking necessary. If...I mean, if people think you guys tolerate me, they might leave me alone.”

The laughter was instantaneous. Kaneko looked back to the other two, her laugh light and condescending. The audacity, it said. The gall of you to ask to sit with them, of all people. “Before you answer, I also do permission slips, report cards, and absent notes.”

“What about prescriptions?”

“Shut up, Nori.”

“Sorry, Nori.” Ueda immediately slunk back to the shadows, gaze downcast.

Kaneka stepped forward and you thought for a moment she was going to shove you onto the floor. You braced your feet, mentally preparing yourself for the force of her push...but it never came. She was in front of you for a moment, and then the next, she was at your side. She hummed under her breath and you could feel her eyes trail over your body. Your school uniform a size too big, the bulky cardigan you had worn over it, the scuffed shoes and year old skirt. Your hair was a mess, your face was bare, and you could hear the sound of your knees knocking together in fear.

“For a greasy little nobody,” She started, reaching out a smooth hand and brushing some of your hair back and out of your eyes. “You do have good bone structure.”

Nori Makino perked up, coming over to take a look at you. She took your face in your hand, causing you to tense and try to pull away. For a girl bordering 90 pounds soaking wet, her grip was rather strong. “And a symmetrical face.”

“A...huh?”

“If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I would have matching halves.” She looked back at you, nodding. “That’s very important.”

“Of course,” Ueda added, glaring at you from over Kaneka’s shoulder. “You could stand to lose a few pounds.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to gain some sense of control over the conversation - but like everything, Kaneko had the power. She gripped your shoulders and turned you towards the mirror. You tensed, feeling her arm wrapped around your shoulders. You watched as she tilted her head this way and that before...smirking. “You know...this might be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss and we might have something.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding once she moved away. “I’ll need some blush, Nori, get your brush.”

You were frozen, watching as each item was brought out and laid on the bathroom counter. A new jacket, skirt, perfume, a pallet of...color? You gripped your bag, trying to figure out what on earth was going on.

“Take that thing off - it smells.”

The...thing? You saw the Nori’s staring at you, waiting for you to comply. You glanced down at your cardigan, pausing only a moment to sniff the sleeve. It...wait, did it smell? Would they lie to you? You fumbled with the buttons, sliding it off your shoulders. Makino snatched it out of your hands and before you knew it, it was tossed in the garbage.

“Now, let’s make her beautiful.”

In that moment, you understood what was happening. As Kaneko stepped forward, the smirk on her face, she watched you. This...was an invitation. Into their group. Into the inner sanctum of popularity and the safety it brought. No more bullies, no more humiliation, no more terror.

“Okay?”

“Okay!”

They don’t tell you that being popular is more hell than it’s worth.

You wouldn’t say you and the Nori’s were...friends. It felt more professional than anything else. You had a strict uniform you had to stick to - above what the school required. Any accessory had to be approved by the trio. All meals had to be approved by Ueda - needless to say, the packed lunches your mother made every morning every morning included with a handwritten note never seemed to make the cut. The make up you did every morning never was good enough.

They had high standards, more inline with a sort of...job than actual friendship. In fact, over the past few weeks, it had been hard to tell if the three Nori’s were even friends to begin with. There was definitely a power struggle between Kaneko - the obvious leader - and Ueda - who tried to exert her dominance every chance she could but was shot down by Kaneko. Moniko was harder to figure out, more happy to follow than to lead. She was...nicer than the other two, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was simply because she didn’t want the drama or if she just...simply didn’t understand that what she said held weight beyond being...noises in the air.

Dear Diary - It just seems like our job is being...popular and shit.

“There you are!”

When Kaneko wasn’t around Ueda was hardly as docile. It was hard to tell she had thorns at all when she was standing next to the Cactus that was the head Nori. But any chance she got, she made sure to inform you in less subtle ways that you weren’t welcome among the three of them.

Which was obvious. Your name wasn’t Nori.

You jumped as Ueda’s hand slammed your book shut on your fingers. “Nori wants you in the caf - now.”

Moniko hardly offered you a glance as you flexed the pain from your joints. “Is that so? What for?”

Ueda snorted, “I don’t know. She just said to get your ass there...now.”

You normally punched out for lunch. You sighed, pushing yourself away from your desk and standing up. “How very.”

If the two Nori’s heard your remark, they didn’t say anything. Nor did they relay it to Nori Kaneko when the three of you had reached the cafe.

The Nori table was the nicest table in the entire cafeteria. With the perfect white table cloths, centered exactly in the middle of the room, other kids from the “popular groups” would migrate around it like a port. They would stay for the entire period or would flit about from table to table. And at it’s head, sat Nori Kaneko. She sat with her legs crossed, talking to another student who’s name you couldn’t quite place. You always thought you had been good with names. Turns out, you just didn’t know many people.

“Ah, you’re finally here. Took you long enough.”

When Kaneko had offered the make over and...”admission” into the popular crowd, you had thought maybe you pegged her wrong. Maybe she was just a normal kid, wrapped up in the politics of High School. It didn’t take long for you to realize she was still the same mythic bitch you had thought she had been - you just did things for her now.

“I need you to forge a note - in Souta Ishii’s handwriting.” With a snap of her fingers, the boy she had been talking to reached into his pocket and yanked out a few folded up pieces of paper. You didn’t need to open them to know what they were. But when you did, you couldn’t find yourself surprised at the fact Souta was barely passing most of his classes.

“You’ll need something to write on. Bend over, Nori.”

One day, it would stop shocking you how quickly Ueda would act to Kaneko’s command. You paused, looking to your superior for a moment. “Uh...I could just-”

“You’re not sitting with us.” She answer simply.

“...right.” You took the paper and pen offered by Moniko. You flexed your digits, feeling the flutter under your skin. “What do you want it to say?”

“‘Hey baby girl, I’ve been watching you and thinking about us in the good old days. I hope you can come to my party this weekend. We can talk about us. Love, Souta.’“ She leaned over, watching your hand glide over the paper in barely legible chicken scratch. “Put an XO after the ‘Souta’ too.”

It was gone the second the O was done. She looked over the note again. “Perfect.”

There was a glint in her eye that didn’t...settle well with you. With your quirk, you noticed certain...things about people. Little ticks and tells that everyone has. Ueda scrunched her nose when she didn’t like something - like everyone. Moniko would fidget with her hands when she was nervous - like everyone. And Kaneko would get a little sparkle in her eyes when she was about to ruin someone’s life.

With each fold of the paper, you stomach dropped closer and closer to your feet. “What’s that for, anyway?”

You never really questioned why she did half of what she did. It wasn’t like you could do anything to stop it. “You know how Souta used to hang out with Arisu Nomaru?”

Of course you did. You considered Arisu a friend - a good one. She was the really only nice person at this school. Of course, hanging out with the Nori’s meant that quality time with Arisu was...well, all but non existent at that point. But she assured you, through texts, that everything was fine. It was exciting! That maybe, she could join you and the Nori’s for lunch one day. It wasn’t possible, of course. You never even bothered to broach the subject to the three. Arisu was never going to be in the popular crowd and would be stuck watching them from a distance.

The only other constant in Arisu’s life - aside from her kindness and her exile from popularity - was the undying love she had for Souta Ishii. Ever since...

“We all hung out with Arisu. In kindergarten.”

Kaneko scoffed, looking up at you from under perfect lashes. “Well, we didn’t all kiss her on the soccer field.”

You had to fight your body’s desire to snatch the paper out of Nori’s hand.

Monika gagged next to you. “Oh my god! I forgot Souta kissed Arisu Nomaru. It was disgusting!!”

It took everything you had not to hit her. She met your glare with cool indifference, adding a laugh for good measure.

“Souta! Just the man I wanted to see!”

Souta was a...handsome man to say the least. You didn’t blame Arisu for having the crush she had on him, not by any means. But what he had in looks, he lacked in anything worthy of personality - aside from just being a huge dick. And where there was a Souta there was Jun Goto. His best friend. He was the smartest one out of his group of friends.

Which amounted as much as being the tallest dwarf, but hey - credit where credit was due. They were both smart enough to know to come when a Nori called you - no questions asked. And in a flash, the two pulled themselves up and made a beeline for the table - not after giggling to themselves first.

“Be a sweetie and give this note to Arisu Nomaru for me.”

Dread immediately filled your stomach. “What? No!”

“What the hell are you talking to Arisu for?” Jun demanded, reaching for the note.

“Don’t read it! She was having a heavy flow, and wanted some advice from Gyno.”

“That’s fucking disgusting!” You would have thought the boy had been burned with the way he flicked the paper onto the table, back away and retreat to the table he had come from.

“Yeah, I’ll take that.” You snatched the note up, gripping it tightly in your hand.

It had been a while since anyone had stared at you with such venom. If looks could kill, Kaneko would have you dead to rights. Her eyes darkened as she glared at you, hands slowly moving to her hips.

But you weren’t going to allow yourself to back down. Not over this. This was too much. “Arisu has had a crush on Souta for 13 years. This...” You waved the note. “This would kill her.”

It was quiet for a moment - and in that moment, you realized you made the biggest mistake of your fucking life. Nori smiled, stepping forward with a soft chuckle. “I didn’t realize we had a problem.”

“We’re not but-”

“Are we going to have a problem?”

You faltered for a moment.

“No, I just-”

“So you have a bone to pick.”

“No, Nori I just think you’re bigger than-”

“You know, when I dragged you out of the dredges of inferiority, I was shocked how far you would go.”

Before you knew it, she had succeeded in pushing you down onto the bench. Your elbow slammed into the top, causing you to cry out. Immediately, all eyes were on you. “So you wanna tell me, why now, are you pulling on my dick?”

“Nori! I’m not trying to argue with you! Just doing this-”

“I know!” She snatched the note from your hands. “It will ruin her. That’s the fucking point.” She offered the note to Ueda, who happily took it. You watched helplessly as she skipped back over to Souta. While he didn’t seem too pleased to be the one to deliver the note, he begrudgingly got up from his spot and headed to the corner of the cafeteria.

"You still have a lot to learn about how things work around here." You swallowed, digging your nails into the palm of you hand. "This whole school is my own personal candy store. I do what I want, when I want."

You watched as he slammed a fist on the table, causing Arisu to jump. She froze, stuttered, and then almost dropped the note when he tossed it to her. Your heart hammered - maybe if you got there fast enough, you could stop her from reading it. You could distract her and -

You were forced back down in your spot and perfectly manicured nails dug into your skin. “You got a good thing going here,” Kaneko stated, very matter of factly. “You could join the team, or you could bitch and moan.” You winced when her nails dug deeper into your skin. “But if you test me one more time, you will end up just. Like. Her."

Ueda grinned, an ugly, spiteful thing. "Welcome to our Candy-"

"Shut up, Nori!" All three of you flinched as your leader stood. Fixing her skirt, she offered you a sweet smile that made your stomach roll. "We'll see you after school."

They left you in that spot for a long time, staring at your hands. It wasn’t until you felt a tap on your shoulder that you finally looked up. And there above you was Arisu. She grinned and offered you the note. “Look! Look what Souta wrote me! He invited me to his party this weekend.”

You stared at the paper, then back up at her. You tried to smile - though it didn’t look like she noticed. “This proves he’s been thinking about me!”

She...seemed happy. And you knew in this school that happiness was hard to come by. Especially with people like Nori’s. You opened your mouth, before closing it again. You stared at that letter, at the handwriting that perfectly matched the papers left on the table. You could tell her, warn her it was a prank. Just...break her heart and tell her Souta wanted nothing to do with her.

“...color me stoked!” You grinned.

You were happy when she left. With a heavy sigh, you buried your face in your hands and ignored the bell above your head. You listened to the shuffling of your peers as they made their way towards the doors.

What the hell were you doing? What the fuck did you just do? Arisu had always been a good friend to you and you threw her under the bus? For what? Popularity? Safety?

“You shouldn’t have bowed down to those dogs. They’ll eat that girl alive.”

You had grown used to most voices, labeling them by people who was more likely to hit you or simply ignore your presence entirely.

But his voice? You had never heard that voice before. It was pleasant in it’s own way - low, guttural, and deceptively indifferent to the advice he was giving you. You sat up, turning to look over your shoulder. Your eyes trailed up to stark white hair. Bright blue eyes stared down at you, hands in his pockets. Your breath caught in your chest and your mind scrambled for a response. “I’m...I’m sorry, what?”

He watched you for a moment. Sizing you up. “Look,” He continued, “You clearly have a soul. You just need to work a little harder to keep it clean.” With a final shrug, he turned on his heel and made his way for the door. "We're all marked for evil."

Did...did he just...quote at you? It took you a moment for your mind to catch up to what he said. “Okay, don’t just quote Baudelaire at me and walk away. Excuse me?”

You scrambled to your feet. He stopped and turned to look at you. He didn’t move to say anything else however, leaving you in charge of continuing the conversation. You looked him over, took in his long, lanky form, the mess of white hair, they...very pretty eyes. You cleared your throat and motioned to him. “I...uh...I didn’t catch your name.”

He waited a moment before shrugging. “That’s cause I didn’t throw it.”

You watched him turn back around and make his way towards the door, mouth hanging down to your chest. It didn’t take long for you to realize how hot your cheeks were burning, how fast your heart was racing. You couldn’t help as your lips broke out into a smile.

You swore he stole another gaze at you him slip out into the hall.

So yeah. I’ll edit this later. Promise.

How did everyone enjoy their holiday season?

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diavolodigitale · 3 years

Text

L’appel Du Vide: 00 Despicable Him

It took me a whole goddamn year to finally win the fight I fought against myself and start posting this story. I have 7 complete chapters written already but now cannot seem to find the strength to continue, so I was hoping releasing it into the world would give me a nice boost. Anyway, my friends enjoyed the story so if in reality it turns out to be bad, it’s obviously their fault, not mine ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Rhys is the CEO of Atlas and Jack's AI is back, surprise, surprise! Now Rhys is dismayed, Jack doesn't care much, and the events of Borderlands 3 are just beginning to unravel. Is there any way to fix the plot of this game? Would it be any better if Rhys had to cooperate with Jack this whole time? Well, this is your chance to find out!

Spoiler: yes, dammit, it would. Everything's better with a bit of Handsome Jack in it.

Genres: Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Alternate Canon, POV Third Person, Humor, Drama, Plot-driven (kind of? well, it has plot)

Pairing: Handsome Jack’s AI/Rhys (this is only the 1st chapter so don’t expect much yet)

Characters: Handsome Jack’s AI, Rhys

Rating: M for Mature but not in this chapter lol

Size: around 2500 words (chapter 1/11)

Rhys’s office was great. He liked to sit in his big executive’s chair and dreamily look outside instead of doing the paper work. The view was also great. Well, kind of.

What did not seem so great, however, was the war he had been recently dragged into by the Maliwan corporation. He didn’t like being involuntarily involved into global affairs, especially those that had something to do with fusions or takeovers. The situation his company was in was bothering him at the moment, so he took a deep thoughtful breath and continued staring into the window.

“Hey, kiddo,” said the voice of somebody who definitely could not be in Rhys’s office neither at this given moment nor at any other time. Rhys was almost sure in his sanity so he proceeded to ignore the not-uttered words, although he, for some unknown reason, became visibly shaken.

“He-e-ey,” said the voice with those familiar little notes of annoyance that would let the hearer know that the person speaking clearly didn’t like being ignored.

A half-transparent blue hand waved in front of Rhys’s face, and he totally lost it.

Still somehow managing to remain seated in his chair, Rhys jerked back and rolled right through the blue figure formerly standing behind him.

“Wha…” muttered Rhys, barely able to speak at all, “Jack? What are you… I mean, how… I mean, is that really you?”

“Calm down, Rhysie,” said Jack with the same smug expression on his face – perhaps, the only thing that was unchangeable apart from his self-confidence, principles, self-esteem, disrespect for the others, sly nature, and, well, many, many other things really. “I get it, you’re happy to see me, but gosh, have some self-respect!”

Rhys was still confused, so after a few seconds of silence Jack felt the need to add, “Of course, it’s me”.

“But I thought you’re…”

“Dead? Gone? Dead and gone?” Jack clicked his tongue three times. “I thought, you knew me better, Rhysie. I thought, you’d welcome me with your arms wide open. Are you not happy to see me?”

“I am,” Rhys started nodding zealously and clenched his fists tight, hoping that Jack wouldn’t notice he was shaken. “But I don’t understand. What happened…”

“What happened was a mistake. I was gone for a while, but now I’m here to stay.” Jack leaned towards Rhys’s face and smiled. It was in no way an amiable smile. His glowing eyes reminded those of a vulture watching his prey. He already started to smell fear in the air.

“And where exactly is here?” asked Rhys with the last glimmer of hope fading from his voice. More than anything now he wished for the story not to repeat itself, but it was not like he had a choice or something.

Jack only tapped on Rhys’s temple with his index finger and leaned back. Rhys didn’t feel the touch but the gesture itself made him uncomfortable. He knew what it meant, unfortunately.

Jack jumped onto the table of the CEO of Atlas and crossed his legs and arms, waiting.

Rhys swallowed loudly. This was not great at all. He was sure his head was clear from this phantom and there was nothing to worry about. He was sure he would never again be convinced to go against his nature and pursue the world domination. Or any kind of domination. He was sure, but whenever it came to Jack, he was a defeatist.

“This can’t be true. I don’t believe you came back. I must’ve hit my head or I’m just seeing things…” Rhys’s voice quavered in disbelief when he spoke.

“Now-now, honey, no need to worry so much. You know I don’t like it when you wince, it makes you look older. Seeing me here must make you feel sorry for what you’ve done, but you should know that I don’t hold any grudge. Actually, I’m kida proud of you, you know. It only proves I was right all along,” said Jack roguishly. His manner of speech made his words sound benign, as if he was forgiving sins during the confession. Rhys was still not buying it.

“I did what I had to, what you made me do! If anything, it was YOUR fault, YOU betrayed me, so don’t you try making ME responsible for everything! I don’t know what kind of mind game this is, but I know you can’t be here.”

As Jack opened his mouth to yet again say something pricky, Rhys, still sitting in his chair and tightly gripping its arms, yelled at top of his lungs, “Begone! Begone, foul apparition!”.

The apparition sat on the table, sandbagged and with a dropped jaw, for a few moments and then uttered “Wow. Just wow. I’ve always known you’re weird, but this is just… wow. Are you on drugs or something? I’m not judging, you just seem really… deranged? I wanna say deranged, but I’m not sure it’s the right word.”

Rhys snuffled resentfully and looked at Jack with a brooding expression on his face. “You won’t go?” he asked, not really hoping anymore.

“Nope, kiddo. Everything’s gonna be just like the good old times – me as a hero and you as a… as a… I dunno, a less attractive sidekick?” Rhys quietly sighed, holding his head in his hands. “We’re gonna hang out, kill bandits, save the world, and I will always, always be at your side. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I killed you, Jack. I destroyed you. I ripped you out of my body, tore you apart and threw you away from my memory. Nothing’s gonna be the same anymore, you know that.”

“No, Rhys, I was killed by some OTHER goddamn crappy bags of… ugh, I’m not even gonna bother with that. You and me just had a misunderstanding. Often happens between two forceful promising personalities, like between me and the previous Hyperion CEO. Oh, wait, no,”–Jack scratched his head and furrowed his eyebrows–“no, I killed him, that’s a bad example. Anyway, you know what I mean.”

“I smashed my fucking arm to get rid of you! You,”–Rhys pointed his cybernetic finger at Jack–“are the only one who is insane here if you think that’s nothing. We both know what we did, Jack. Whatever you want, I’m not helping you. The last time I tried, you took control of me and tried to end my life.”

Jack’s expression turned from stolid to menacing as fast as gray clouds cover the sun and it starts raining in summer. He wanted to be good, he really believed that he did.

“Why do you always have to be so stubborn?” he hissed at Rhys. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me to. No matter how much I don’t want to admit it, I’m dependent on you, you little whiny coward, so do me a favor – be a good boy and listen to what daddy has to say. You kept your eye implant, didn’t you? Don’t even try arguing with me, I know you did. It was your decision to leave it be, so it’s you who brought me here. I’m grateful for that and I promise not to be nasty. No taking over bodies and no homicidal tendencies. Well, at least when it comes to you, pumpkin.”

“…Okay,” fumbled Rhys. Even though he didn’t believe this was really the case, he knew disputing with Jack never solved anything anyway. “Although… I didn’t really use the chip afterwards. I don’t know how you’ve found out I had kept it, but I surely wasn’t that stupid so as to put it back into my head after what you had done. I really want to know how you’ve managed to–”

“We all have our secrets, Rhysie. But enough about me, let’s talk about you.” Jack gave Rhys a wink. “How’ve ya been? Must admit, I fell out of the loop and now need an update,” he said petulantly. Now he was idly looking around as if he had lost all interest in what was happening.

Rhys decided to let go of his worries for now. If he couldn’t make Jack talk, his only option was to gain his trust once again and find out how he survived. Or if he did at all. Just be composed, not the worst scenario you’ve ever been in, he said to himself.

“Um, actually, I’m great. This is my office and… We’re doing fantastically if you disregard the fact that we’re at war with Maliwan and currently I am occupied with this new–”

“Yeah-yeah, okay, what was there about a war? I don’t remember Maliwan scum being at least somehow dangerous. How did you even manage to mess this up?”

Rhys stood up from his huge chair, arms akimbo, eyes disdainfully narrowed, and went on with his story, affronted and even a little peevish.

“As I was saying, I’m working on a new plan right now. At this point I’m pretty fed up with Katagawa, this new CEO of Maliwan,”–definitely peevish right now–“Oh, in fact, I just hate him so much!”–now even irate–“The day he murdered all his siblings, he just mobilized his fleet and went straight to my planet! Who in the right mind does that? Could’ve sent a message at least. Anyway,”–Rhys hid his hands into his pockets and sunk back into his chair, having lost all his righteous anger–“he wants our corporations to merge, to fuse, as he says, to become one.” The irritation on Jack’s face was becoming more distinct with every word Rhys said. “He wants me to sign the deal and share my developments with him, can you believe it? That greedy bastard!”

“Proposals like that don’t just come out of nowhere. Seems like he’s been watching you. This Katagawa guy, what does he offer you in return? Money, contacts, tech?”

“Himself, I guess,” said Rhys without any second thought.

“What?” asked Jack contemptuously. He was already close to seeing red. Rhys forgot how it worked with him.

“He said we would become partners, but I think it’s all lies to make it seem pretty. I suspect he will simply take control of Atlas and our new shiny guns, and all my work will be wasted.”

“I see, no one can trick our Rhysie,” said Jack, grinning. “Thank god, at least some good news.”

“That’s right!” said Rhys, perhaps, more enthusiastically than he should have. “No one,” he added more quietly. Except for you, you snake, muttered the inner voice inside his head.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something this whole time. Funny how I really haven’t been here for long, but you know. May I?”

Jack’s incisive manner of speech was absent, so Rhys took his guard down for a moment, getting the feeling that this conversation was like one of those they used to have before – unbraced and at times even innocuous.

“I know what’s on your mind, Jack,” he said, heartfelt and certain.

“You do?” Jack undoubtfully seemed surprised at his interlocutor’s insight.

“Yes. I’ve noticed how you look at me and I know exactly what you want to ask.” Rhys made himself more comfortable in the chair, crossed his legs and sat straight, in a more business-like manner. “This,”–he made a vague hand gesture around the area of his mouth–“is a siege mustache. Shh, let me finish, you can’t say anything I haven’t heard about it before. My troops love it, and as a good commander, I do what I can to boost morale on the battlefield. Of course, I don’t go out there, but they are happy enough when they see my hologram. A-a-and, now you can talk. I guess. If you want to. By the way, I don’t care if you hate it, it’s my face so–”

“You know what? I love it. Love it. Never thought I would say that, but I am saying it right now, so here you are. The second rule of a successful boss – do what the fuck you wanna do with your face. The first one is murder the previous boss, of course.”

“Really?” gingerly asked Rhys, who, in reality, had never heard anything good about his poor moustache.

“Really. But I must upset you, Rhysie. This is not what was bothering me. You see, there’s this other little thing, pretty close in its significance to your moustache.”

“Oh,” uttered Rhys nonchalantly, “what is it?”

“Hyperion. What’s with it? What’s with MY Hyperion, Rhysie?”

At the sound of that very word Rhys hunched in his chair and felt as if he was reducing in size under Jack’s cold gaze.

“After what had happened… the Helios was destroyed and everything collapsed and…”

Rhys sat silent, not able to go on, and this was the last thing he should’ve done. Jack was not in the mood for such a behavior.

“Look me square in my fucking translucent eyes, Rhys, and tell me – what is with my Hyperion?” yelled Jack.

He still sat on the table quite far from Rhys, but it seemed like the room suddenly shrunk and he was right in front of him. Jack was a ghost, a phantom, not able to do anything, not able to inflict any damage or even touch him, but Rhys sensed the danger. No matter in what form, Handsome Jack was still Handsome Jack.

“I don’t know. I guess, somebody took control of it after I left. The weapons are still being manufactured, but I didn’t bother to find out who was the next in line after Helios was… after I destroyed Helios.”

Rhys exhaled loudly and averted his eyes from Jack. Oh, yes, making Jack angry is much easier than making him proud, how could I forget, he thought.

“I see. I didn’t doubt for a second you would do that to infuriate me. Believe it or not, this is the first time I’d rather be disappointed. But you know what? It doesn’t matter now. Now we’re bonding,” Jack sucked the air through his teeth, “now we’re rebuilding what was destroyed like a family we are. Isn’t that great? Look at us, two best buddies exchanging the latest news.”

“And you promised not to be nasty this time...?” Rhys made a feeble attempt to save himself and remind Jack about the terms under which he was allowed to accompany him.

“Yes, Rhysie, and you know damn well I keep my promises.”

And he did. But only when he promised to kill somebody.

#Borderlands #Borderlands 3 #Tales from the Borderlands #Handsome Jack #Handsome Jack's AI #Rhys #rhys strongfork #Handsome Jack x Rhys #fiction #fanfiction #fix-it #alternate canon #drama #humor #romance #L’appel Du Vide story

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