#i just…. get worried that i’m letting them down if i’m not enjoying weird creepy things like they do

[ectoplasmer]

voicing how I get insecure over the fact that I can’t handle horror as well as the bakurae can because i’m a wimp and having a 50/50 chance of being met with a response like “oh no that’s fine!! that just means you’re more sane than me” or “you haven’t seen nor experienced nearly the amount things I have but yes you are a wimp”

#</3 #i just…. get worried that i’m letting them down if i’m not enjoying weird creepy things like they do #i can handle horror movies because that’s more of a ‘controlled’ environment and i know it’s fake #it’s more like… those youtube videos that talk about analog horror or unsolved mysteries etc #sometimes even those videos that are meant to be art projects #the ones that seem more grounded in reality if that makes sense?? #heck i say that but i still get spooked by videos about lost media o_o #listen. as a child who had unlimited access to the internet at a young age #that dumb candle cove creepypasta literally ruined me #anyway i know it really doesn’t matter because i love them and i’m pretty sure they’d still love me even if i can’t handle some scary things #but my brain is mean and never allows me to live down anything so #i personally think bakura would like having an excuse to act all tough and protective for me #(even if the body he inhabits probably has a vitamin d deficiency lol)/lh #he’s kind of been stripped of everything that made him powerful and threatening #so if he gets to still behave as such towards nonexistent threats over his fraidy-cat of a girlfriend i think he’d be satisfied <3 #and i know ryou would be happy to cuddle me until i calmed down #he’d probably be just as enthusiastic about explaining what the media means/how it was made/etc as he would be watching it :) #it’d… also probably make him feel good getting to ‘protect’ me from those kinds of fears lol #anyway (x2). why did typing this out actually calm me down a little #woahhh distraction methods actually work what a surprise #anyway hi tumblr i’m alive happy new year hope you’re all doing well <333 #spooky ghosts #four of spades

[cloudcountry]

part of my world

Genre/Tropes: There's some "scary one x soft one" dynamic sprinkled in here!! There's also some hinted mutual pining.

Summary: You decide to join Jade's club so you can spend more time with him, but your friends are more than a little wary about what the eel has in store for you.

Author's Comments: man i love jade leech and his silly little mushrooms. i would let him cook me the most outrageous mushroom experiments and i would eat them all. Also JADE GETS JEALOUS!!!!!

~~~~~

“You want to join?” Jade blinked, his eyes wide as he set the cool drink on your table.

“Yes! Really badly!” you accepted the drink gratefully, staring up at the merman with stars in your eyes, “Your club sounds really cool, and Crowley said I have to join something but basketball and board games and track aren’t my thing but then I saw yours and I was like that’s so cool! So pleaseee let me join! I want to learn about mushrooms since I know you like them-”

A gentle hand placed on your head stopped your pleading, Jade’s affectionate gaze making a wobbly smile spread across your face. He sighed, rubbing gentle circles while tapping his other hand to his mouth thoughtfully.

“I don’t know...” he hummed, “The mountains can be harsh...are you sure you can handle it? Aren’t you worried about being alone with a scary moray?”

“Stop teasing!” you huffed, snatching up the hand that wasn’t petting your head and squeezing it.

“Of course I’ll let you go with me, Prefect. I’d love to have you along.” Jade laughed quietly, giving your head a final pat before he pulled away, “I’ll come pick you up at Ramshackle three days from now, okay?”

“Yes! Thank you so much Jade!” you beamed, nearly launching yourself out of the booth and into his arms in your excitement.

“It’s nothing. I’m simply pleased you’re interested.” he smiled back, sharp teeth glinting in the low lighting of the Mostro Lounge, “Please enjoy your drink. It’s on me.”

🍄

You paced around the Ramshackle Lounge living room, going through a mental checklist of all the things Jade would have you pack for the expedition. Grim sat on the dust couch, curled up and staring at you weirdly.

“Why’re you pacing around like that? It’s weirding me out.” he grumbled, making himself comfortable on the dusty fabric.

“I joined a club.” you said, beaming as your pace quickened, “Jade is going to pick me up soon and then we’re going to go look for mushrooms in the mountains!”

“What?!” Grim jolted up, eyes wide, “You’re going in the mountains? Alone? With Jade?! Henchhuman, do you have a death wish?!”

“Relax, Grimmy. I’ll be alright. I’m really excited for this!” you said, patting his head absentmindedly as you passed by the couch again.

Grim opened his mouth, about to beg you to stay and not go anywhere with that creepy eel, but three loud knocks on the front door halted the words in his throat. You jumped, smiling as you ran to the door and threw it open. Ace and Deuce stood on your porch, both jumping a foot when you flung the door open.

“Damn Prefect, how happy are you to see us?” Ace teased, making his way inside.

“I know we’ve been gone for a bit, but you don’t have to act like we left you here all alone.” Deuce joined in, smirking at you.

“No, no. It’s not that. I was just-”

“The Prefect is going on a date with Jade!”

The three of you turned to look at Grim, flabbergasted at the sudden outburst. Ace and Deuce turned to look at you with the same expression, their eyes wide and disbelieving.

“It’s not a date, Grim!” you yelled, feeling your face heat up, “I just joined his club, that’s literally it. Stop making these weird accusations-”

“Prefect!? You can’t be serious, right?” Ace grabbed you by the shoulders, shaking you hard, “You can’t go anywhere with Jade! He’s dangerous!”

“Ace is right!” Deuce blurted out, hands outstretched in front of him like he didn’t know what to do with them, “What if he hurts you? You can’t trust him!”

“Guys, you can calm down. I like Jade. He isn’t going to do anything weird. We’re just going to look for mushrooms and go on a hike. He’s not Floyd.” you joked, laughing lightly to ease their nerves.

They don’t look convinced.

You sighed, pulling away from Ace and looking them both in the eye.

“Look, I’ve wanted to go with Jade for a long time. I want to go out into the mountains and experience what his club is all about. I’m genuinely interested in it and I’d appreciate it if you guys just let me take this one. I’ve been fine on my own before, so stop worrying. I’m fine.”

“Prefect, I’m telling you, those Octavinelle guys are bad news. We don’t want you getting hurt out there, especially because of Jade.” Ace crossed his arms over his chest.

“And I’m telling you, that won’t happen. Jade might be unpredictable but he’s not cruel to me.” you waved away their worries, turning towards the door with the intention of leaving.

Jade was standing in the doorway to Ramshackle, a heavy looking backpack on his shoulders as he smiled serenely.

“Hello, Prefect.” he opened his eyes, regarding you with a nod, “Ace. Deuce. Grim.”

The other three stayed silent, whether out of fear or embarrassment or the silent treatment, you didn’t know. You beamed, approaching Jade with a bounce in your step.

“Jade! I hope you weren’t waiting long?” you asked, refusing to look back at your three friends.

“I wasn’t. I just got here.” he chuckled, unhooking a smaller backpack from his shoulder and holding it out to you, “Here. You can carry the water and food. Are you ready to go?”

“Um-! Not yet. I actually don’t have hiking boots and I wanted to ask you about that.” you rubbed the back of your neck, sheepish.

“No problem.” he said, patting your head gently, “I’ve picked a flat trail. It’ll be a simple hike, nothing like what I get up to when I’m alone, I assure you.”

“I’ll be able to handle it once I get proper footwear!” you insisted, swinging the backpack over your shoulder, “So sneakers are fine?”

“Sneakers are fine.” he nodded, holding out his hand, “Shall we?”

“Hey Jade!” Ace yelled, his arms still crossed over his chest, “Nothing better happened to the Prefect, okay?”

You looked back at Ace with a soft smile, affection bubbling up in your chest. These boys were so worried for you. It was kinda sweet, even though he was being really overbearing.

“Nothing is going to happen to them.” Jade turned to look at Ace, catching his gaze, “You are not the only ones on campus that care for them.”

Ace’s shoulders seemed to relax the slightest bit at that, but he was still tense. Deuce said nothing, opting to stare into your eyes.

You knew what he was trying to say without him having to say it.

“Hey, you better come back, Henchhuman! You need to feed me!” Grim grumbled, glaring at Jade.

“I will Grim. Bye guys!” you waved them goodbye as Jade tugged you out of Ramshackle.

Once the door shut, you turned back to Jade. His gaze was clouded with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, his expression betraying nothing.

“Do they normally stay over at Ramshackle?” he murmured, tightening his grip on your hand.

“Oh...?” you flushed at the contact, your brain slowly connecting his statement to Ace and Deuce, “Oh. They...They do, yeah. They’re basically my secondary dormmates.”

“Hmm. Then I don’t suppose you’d let me do the same?” he inquired.

“Sure. I don’t see why not. Hornton comes over sometimes too, so adding you to the mix wouldn’t make too much of a fuss. I think.” you grimace, thinking about the way your friends had reacted to Jade before.

Oh well, every friendship starts somewhere.

“Good. I would be...very displeased if otherwise.” Jade smiled, continuing down the pathway, “I’ll be sure to show up occasionally from now on.”

“Please do! I’d be happy to have you.” you laughed.

“By the way...” Jade stopped abruptly, turning to face you, “I lied.”

You blinked owlishly as he snickered, holding a finger up to his lips. It took you a second to realize what he was referring to.

“How long were you actually there for?” you asked, amused.

“The whole time. I’d gotten there shortly after you’d opened the door and let them in. I heard the entire thing.” Jade shuffled a bit closer to you, “You like me, huh?”

You felt your face burn up again at his obvious teasing, swatting him away with your free hand. He laughed, tugging you back along the path.

“You’re right, Prefect. I have no intention of letting you get hurt. I only want to show you a world I have yet to show anyone else.” he looked back at you and smiled, and your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest.

#auburn's fics <3 #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #man i love jade leech #fluff #jade leech fluff #screaming crying i want to join his club #it would be so much fun #fresh air and hiking #ugh the dream

[semisgroupie]

A FRIENDLY NEIGHBOR

pervert!karasu tabito x fem. reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: noncon filming, slight stalking (kind of), unprotected sex, creampie, manhandling, thigh humping, spanking, praise, degradation, strength kink (kind of)

synopsis: he’s just doing the neighborly thing

a/n: this was requested by @qichun for my perverts make the world go ‘round event remake!

Karasu felt bad for this front that he held up whenever you were around.

Actually, he didn’t feel bad at all. He honestly enjoyed it a lot more than he should have.

He loved seeing the look on your face when he would ‘magically’ appear to help you with heavy groceries after you had been struggling with bringing them up the stairs to your floor. He had been behind you the whole time, fighting off a boner as he heard your little grunts and groans as you went up each step. But you would never know that, he was honestly surprised that you’ve never caught on. He kept track of the days you went grocery shopping, always in the middle of the month, then little trips here and there and you always bought in bulk. Maybe you did it on purpose. Maybe you wanted him to come by and help you out. Maybe you did catch on but wanted to play stupid. But he couldn’t let his mind wander too far with frivolous thoughts.

His favorite thing that he ever did was slip some hidden cameras along your apartment when you asked him over to help you hang up some paintings and photos you had. It was pretty easy to do and you were never suspicious of it. He had a full view of your apartment and he could see everything you did there. Especially when you couldn’t fight off the urge to touch yourself, it was like you put on a special show just for him. He even saved little clips of you onto his laptop for whenever he had to go away for a game, he always watched you. It only fueled his fantasies and made him wish he upgraded the cameras he got. If only he got the more high tech ones, then he could really hear what name you moaned when you touched yourself or hear the slick noises as you fucked yourself. Did you wish it was his cock or fingers inside you?

He wanted to feel bad, he really did. But you just made it too easy for him to do things like this to you, it just made him want to do more, see how perverse he could really get. He just had to wait for the perfect moment to make a move.

Or maybe you were going to open the door for a perfect opportunity.

He was in his apartment, pouring some chips into a bowl so he could have a snack while he watched a new show Otoya told him all about, when he heard a frantic knock at his door. He set down everything and rushed over to the door, opening it up to see you, only in a towel. His eyes widened at the sight and you looked at him. “I’m so sorry to bother you but I really need your help, Tabito.” He nodded and followed you into your apartment, watching some water droplets cascade along any inch of skin that wasn’t covered by your towel.

You closed your apartment door and moved closer to the bathroom before stopping completely. “There’s this weird looking bug in there and it’s really freaking me out!” He had to bite back his laughter as he nodded. This was just perfect, you clad in only a towel crying for his help was only something he fantasized about and now it’s his wildest dreams coming true. “I’ll get it out for you, don’t worry.”

He smiled and walked into the bathroom, you followed behind him and only peeked your head in to watch him. It took him a few minutes and he finally came out with his hands cupped together. You moved out of the way and he walked over to an open window and let the little creature out before turning back to you. “It was just a little centipede but I understand, those things get a little creepy looking sometimes especially when you least expect them.” You let out a sigh of relief and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him to hug him. “Thank you, Tabito.”

He hugged you back and lowered his head to smell your hair, the scent of your shampoo filled his nose. It only took you a quick moment to pull away, as you were still clad in only a towel. Heat spread across your face and you looked at him with wide eyes, “I’m sorry. I should put clothes on and then I can make you some food as a thank you.” You adjusted your towel slightly before turning around and before you could take your first step he gripped your wrist and pulled you back around to him.

“You know, I really have to watch my diet for my games. I think there could be another way for you to thank me.” He released your wrist and slowly moved his hand up your arm, his fingertips gently grazing your skin as he moved them up to your shoulder then your collarbone before he dropped his hand. Goosebumps coated your skin and your heart pounded. You couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive and with all the times he helped you, you couldn’t help but develop a little crush on him. Now that he was finally here, you couldn’t let the opportunity slip.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth and brought your hands up to remove your towel from your body, letting it drop to the floor while your nude body was completely on display for him. His eyes moved along your body with a predatory gaze, “fuck, I’d never thought I’d be able to see you this close.” He moved his hands out to your hips and pulled you close to him, he leaned in and smashed his lips against yours. You brought your hands up to his shoulders and his hands moved back to your ass, gripping handfuls of the flesh roughly.

The action made you moan and whine against his lips and he wanted, no, he craved more from you. He leaned in more and slipped his tongue into your mouth while he moved his hands lower, hooking them along the back of your thighs before lifting you up. He never broke the kiss and you moved your hands up to lightly tug on his locks as he brought you to your couch and sat down, adjusting you to straddle him. Heat and need coursed through your body with how easily he handled you.

He groaned against your lips as you started to grind your hips against him. The fabric of his sweatpants gave you the perfect stimulation you needed and you couldn’t stop yourself as you moved against him. He broke the kiss and bit his bottom lip as he watched you grind against his growing hard on. “Why don’t you straddle one of my thighs if you want to get off like a needy slut?” He held onto your hips and lifted you to straddle one of his thighs then started to move you against him. He flexed his thigh and it caught your sensitive clit, making you gasp and whine his name.

He was thankful that he had the cameras splayed along your living room, he could relive this moment from all different angles. You leaned in and buried your face in the crook of his neck, moaning and nipping at the sensitive skin there as you humped his thigh. His hands moved along your body, one hand moving to your front to pinch your nipples and his other hand moved to grip and spank your ass. Loud smacks and slaps reverberated through the living room and mixed with your yelps and moans of pleasure. His cock twitched more and more, he felt like he could cum with just the sounds of your whines and whimpers.

You held onto his shirt tightly before you slowly lifted your head from his neck. Your pupils blown wide with lust and need. “Tabito, please fuck me. I want you inside me so badly.” Your hips still moved along his thigh at a frantic pace, still trying to get that delicious release. “Yeah? But you’re still humping my thigh like a little bitch in heat, it’s just so cute. If you really want my cock then you have to stop moving your hips.” A pout formed on your lips and you finally slowed your hips. He lifted you off his thigh and laid you down on your couch.

He glanced down quickly and saw the large wet spot on his sweatpants. He quickly shed them and his shirt, showing you his toned body and he moved between your thighs. Now that he finally had you like this, he didn’t know what position he wanted to fuck you in. He licked his dry lips and gripped your legs, putting them over his shoulders as he lined his cock with your entrance. He dragged the tip through your wet folds and turned his head to press a kiss to your ankle before pushing in.

You felt heavenly around him and he couldn’t keep his eyes off your pussy, watching how you stretched around his cock. He was completely entranced as he continued to push into you until he was balls deep. He took his bottom lip between his teeth and started to thrust, bottoming out each time he pushed back into you. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock and he finally tore his eyes away to watch your body as he fucked you then finally moved his eyes to your face. Looking at how blissed out you were, it was an expression he had seen hundreds of times since he placed the cameras in your apartment but experiencing it firsthand and knowing that he was the direct cause of it made him feel even better.

“This is so much better than watching you through a fucking screen. It could never capture your true beauty like this. Getting to hear and see you like this makes me so fucking hard. I won’t be able to get enough of you after this. We’ll just need to keep doing this, indulging in each other and our fantasies. We’ll never have our fill of each other, it’ll be impossible.” The words kept pouring from his lips along with shaky breaths and groans.

It was like he was drunk off of you and you were drunk off of pleasure. He looked at the empty look in your eyes and brought his fingers down to your clit, rubbing and slapping the sensitive bundle of nerves. That made you arch your back off the couch and made you tighten around him. He knew you were close, you didn’t have to say that and he was right behind you. His cock twitched inside you and his balls swelled and tightened, begging for release but he wouldn’t, not just yet.

He drilled his cock into you harder, his heavy balls slapped against the curve of your ass with each hard thrust. “T-Tabito, ‘m gonna cum.” He continued to slap and pinch your clit and moved his free hand to grip your face. “Look at me when you cum. I want to watch you fall apart from my cock, not from some plastic toy that couldn’t even come close to me.” He groaned out his words and you finally came undone. You shut your eyes as your release washed over you. You clenched around him tightly and your body trembled underneath his as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. He thrusted a few more times before his hips stuttered and he started to fill you with cum.

He moved your legs down on either side of his hips and he hooked his arms around you to lift you up onto him as he laid back down. He rubbed your back and kissed your forehead then reached over to pull the blanket that was draped over your couch to cover you both. He didn’t want to pull out of you, not yet. He wanted to enjoy you for as long as he could, then he’ll enjoy you again when he’s in the privacy of his own bedroom, rewatching what just went down between you two. He’ll have a new folder to create for all the little sex tapes that he’s going to make.

He really had to thank his past self for putting up the cameras throughout your apartment. But maybe he’ll replace them soon, for ones with better quality and sound. Just so he could have better videos to save for his private viewing.

taglist: @suyacho @bluelock4life @benkeibear @satmitsuplanet @litepowee

#venus4kremake #blue lock smut #bllk smut #karasu smut #tw:creampie #tw:unprotected sex #tw:noncon elements

[yandere-writer-momo]

Can you please do a situation where kusum I finds Doyle under the bed after y/n and had sex

I talked about Doyle being absolutely down bad for (your name) when he first met her even though she’s Katsumi’s girlfriend but I’m going to take it to a whole new level with a short story.

Yandere Baki Short Stories:

The Spectator

Katsumi catching Doyle being a weirdo 🌶️

Minors DNI. Creepy behavior

Afab reader

Hector Doyle knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way for (your name) but he did. How could he not! She was so sweet to him and she always fed him whenever he dropped by Katsumi and Retsu’s place… not to mention how beautiful (your name) looked in her skirts… it was so hard for Doyle not to pounce on her. Doyle was just afraid of Katsumi jumping him.

He loved (your name) so much and she didn’t even notice… he hated his feelings go unreciprocated… it’s why he began to steal from her. Doyle knew he couldn’t have (your name) since she was dating Katsumi and it’s the only way he could calm down his feelings! He swore he wasn’t trying to be weird.

It was little trinkets at first. Belongings she wouldn’t even notice were missing! Hair ties she left thrown around, a plastic spoon she used for an ice cream date with Katsumi, and even some toe nail clippings… but it wasn’t enough. Doyle needed more!

His obsession only began to spiral from there. Soon he was painting his nails the same color as (your name)’s so it would feel like he was matching with her! Like he was in a relationship with her!

Doyle was cleaning out (your name)’s brush and savoring every tiny hair from it so he could turn them into a bracelet. One little piece of her closer to his heart! Sometimes he could smell her shampoo on it… just the thought of that made his pants tighten… how exhilarating.

Doyle was also fond of wearing (your name)‘s clothes. It must’ve been fate that he could fit into her heels… would she want to dress up with him? Or how about she lets him pick out an outfit for her? Doyle was sure he could pick out something way better than Katsumi.

Doyle would’ve never thought of himself as a panty or sock thief but here he was… sniffing the soiled garments and occasionally putting them in his mouth. Doyle just couldn’t help himself! Anything to be closer to (your name)!

Today was just another day of him going through (your name)’s soiled linen as he replaced them with the ones he stole last week…

But he heard the front door open this time and he didn’t have time to slip out… so he shoved one of the soiled panties into his mouth and crawled under the bed. He couldn’t let you know he was here… being a creep. Doyle could just slip away once she was asleep.

Doyle’s heart stopped when he heard Katsumi’s voice as well. No… (your name) didn’t invite Katsumi over often… what if… Doyle heard the sound of kissing down the hall and the shuffling of fabric. They were going to have sex weren’t they?

Doyle felt tears gather in his eyes as his pants tightened. How shameful was it to enjoy listening to the woman he’s in love with get railed by another man.

Doyle nearly smacked his head on the bed when he heard the bedroom door slam open. His red eyes widened when he saw the bare forms of both (your name) and Katsumi in the full body mirror. His hand was immediately shoved in his pants as he watched Katsumi begin to kiss down her neck and grope at her fleshy ass. This was all too much for the assassin to handle…

“Katsumi, you promised you’d use protection.” (Your name) whined as Katsumi shoved her onto the bed with a smirk.

Doyle was well aware of the fact that (your name) didn’t want children. They’ve discussed it over tea before. It upset him with how pushy Katsumi was about having kids. Doyle would never treat her in such a way.

“And I promised you we’re going to get married soon so don’t worry about it so much.” Katsumi continued pressing his lips against hers with a smile. “I just want to give everything I have to my baby.”

(Your name) wrapped her arms around Katsumi’s neck. She knew there was no point in arguing with Katsumi and his stupid breeding kink. It’s why she kept track of her cycle and kept plan b in her bathroom cupboard. She wasn’t ready to have a baby quite yet.

Katsumi slipped himself inside with ease. A dreamy sigh escaping his throat. He was so happy to always be like this with his beautiful girlfriend… hopefully wife soon… but he had a little troll under the bridge to take care of first. Just what did Katsumi have to do to get Doyle to understand (your name) was his?

Katsumi started thrusting at a rough pace, (your name) grabbing his shoulders for support in shock. Her nails digging into the skin on his back, leaving little red crescents in their wake.

“Ah! Katsumi!” (Your name) moaned as Katsumi began thrusting like a madman. He was never like this… like an animal. But she really liked it. This was so much better than it usually was. “Just like that!”

Katsumi smirked as he glanced at the mirror. His eyes meeting Doyle’s. Look how good he made (your name) feel. It was never going to be Doyle on top of her or anyone else. She was his.

Katsumi brought grabbed (your name)‘s chin and kissed her. Her legs immediately wrapping around his waist. She didn’t know what had gotten into Katsumi but she adored it.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Katsumi kissed her cheeks as she struggled for words at his brutal pace.

“More. I want more.” She whined as she tried to use her feet to push Katsumi to go faster.

Doyle was jerking himself like a mad man to try to keep up with the show he was getting. He didn’t care that Katsumi knew he was here. Doyle laid his free palm on the bed as he felt it shake above him. This was so much better than just dreaming of hearing her moans and screams.

Katsumi smiled as he obeyed, a scream ripping from (your name)’s throat. Her eyes rolling back and her toes curling as his thumb began to tease her clit. He was already pushing her over the edge.

“Yes! God, Katsumi!” (Your name) cried out as she came, Doyle smiling as he came with her. The red head panting as tears fell down his cheeks. He never came so hard in his life… a shame the bed kept shaking since it wasn’t him that was fucking (your name) into the mattress.

“You’re mine.” Katsumi hissed as his hips started to stutter. “All mine!”

Katsumi came inside of her with a moan. The dark haired man stilling on top of her with a dopey smile. His lips kissing all over her face and neck. God he loved her so much.

“How about I carry you into the bath?” Katsumi offered as (your name) smiled at him.

“I’d love that.”

Doyle bit his lip in anger as he watched Katsumi carry (your name) bridal style into the bathroom. That bastard was rubbing it in his face!

Doyle slipped out from under the bed when he heard the water start to run. But a certain Karateka stopped him.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” Katsumi asked Doyle who clenched his fists. “You lurk around her place like a rat and I hate it.”

“Away-“ Doyle felt something wet but him on the forehead. The convict instantly trembling in disgust. Did Katsumi just…

“That’s what I mixed inside of (your name).” Katsumi gave Doyle a cocky smirk. “A piece of her and I if you really want to know. Something you will never have.”

Doyle wiped the cum off his face with a scowl. How dare that bastard rub his victory in his face. Should he just kill him? No… that would make (your name) sad.

“Fuck you.” Doyle hissed but Katsumi smirked.

“Get out of here before I beat the shit out of you.” Katsumi hissed under his breath, the assassin slinked away in the shadows.

“Katsumi! What’s taking you so long?” (Your name) called from the tub in the bathroom. Katsumi quickly perking up.

“I just had to take care of something, honey! I thought I saw a rat under the bed was all.”

(Your name) smirked from in the tub. She would never admit it but she really got off having Doyle watch her and Katsumi go at it. She really enjoyed having a spectator.

#baki hanma #baki the grappler #baki x reader #yandere imagine #baki son of ogre #yandere #yandere fic #baki the grappler x reader #female reader #grappler baki #baki dou #yandere baki #Yandere short story #Yandere x you #Yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #Baki #Baki Yandere #katsumi orochi #katsumi orochi x reader #hector doyle

[abbatoirablaze]

Big Bad Wolf, Chapter 2

Word Count:  1.6k

Warnings:  gaslighting, emotional abuse, mentions of taboo relationships.

“I’ve got to go clean Mr. Hansen’s house, Jacob…but I promise I’ll be over as soon as I can,” you offered sweetly, keeping your arms wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck, “by the time I get done you’ll have everything unpacked and we can order pizza and cuddle up and watch Net-“

“You can’t even take one measly day away from that creep, can you?” he asked, “its not even your normal day.  But I bet he asked you to come over a day early just to ruin our time together.”

“Jacob…” you whimpered, “he did it because he knows tomorrow is my birthday and he wanted me to have the day off.”

“I’m serious,” he groaned, looking over to Mr. Hansen’s driveway, “you’re my girlfriend…you’re supposed to be seeing me off to college and we’re supposed to be making the most of it…you’re supposed to be making sure I’m not the third wheel between Ashley and Mr. Weiss, which is creepy enough as it is…but you’re going to go play French maid with Mr. Hansen?”

You frowned, “Mr. Hansen’s been nice to you and your dad, Jacob…he helped find out about your mom…and he’s been giving me the extra cash to clean his house practically since they moved in…”

“Which is weird, (Y/N).”

You went to argue but Jacob gave you a look, and your argument fizzled.  Instead, you looked at Ashley, who was flirtatiously loading boxes into Mr. Weiss’ truck.  They had taken the time earlier to load Jacob’s stuff in first and were now at Ashley’s house.  And you’d spent as much time as you possibly could helping, but if you waited any longer you knew you weren’t going to get out of his house until after dinner, and you didn’t want to risk running into Mrs. Hansen.

“I should go.”

“Yeah,” he huffed, his arms dropping from around your waist, “you should…I-I’ll call you to let you know when we’re done…I guess…”

“Yeah…”

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hansen…what were you saying?”

“You’ve been moping around the house all afternoon,” he said with a soft look.  He leaned against the countertop that you had been mindlessly wiping down for the past five minutes and you frowned, realizing that you’d been thinking too much about the interactions with Jacob from earlier, “I told you that you didn’t have to come over this week…you could have helped Jacob move into his dorm with Mike and Ashley…and enjoyed your birthday tomorrow…I would have made it a week without you cleaning up the house.”

Your gaze retreated away from his cool one, for fear that he’d see that you really didn’t want to spend the additional time with Jacob.  But when his hand reached across the counter and his large, calloused hand stroked the back of yours, you nearly felt yourself breaking down. 

“Do you need to talk to someone, sweetheart?”

“Ever since the beginning of the summer…well, prom…it just feels like Jacob, and I aren’t…connecting.”

“Did something happen at prom?” he asked, his voice turning stern.  You gave him a sad look, suddenly unsure about opening up to him, and you noticed his jaw clench, “did something happen to you, (Y/N)?”

“No…NO!” you said quickly, realizing the anger in his tone was turning into worry across his features, “n-nothing happened like that, Mr. Hansen…I just-I think Jacob expected it to…I-I want to save myself…for…”

You stopped, the blush spreading across your cheeks as you realized you were admitting that you didn’t want to have sex with Jacob to one of your father’s best friends. 

“Hey…it’s okay,” he said in a soft voice, his warm hand stroking yours once again, “I want you to be able to feel like you can talk to me.  Just like you can talk to any one of us…Buck.  Mike.  Ari.  Even Andy…you’ve been there for each of them through some hard points in their lives.  And you’re a big help around my house…”

“Y-you don’t need to have me here, you know…I’m usually just tidying up,” you laughed, trying to change the subject, “you and Mrs. Hansen are extremely clean…I mean.  I usually just do the laundry and wipe everything down and vacuum and mop…there’s hardly ever any dishes, and-“

“I asked you originally because you seem to enjoy helping out the neighbors,” he shrugged, “you help Buck with his gardening…you walk Mike’s alligator…which I still can’t believe how tame that thing is-“

“Dad doesn’t like that I do that…but he’s a really sweet thing…”

“Mike needs to put that thing in a zoo before someone gets hurt…I’m surprised the HOA hasn’t fined him, or at the very least attempted to sue him to get it out of here,” he growled, glaring back towards the door, “sweethear-“

“I like the little guy,” you replied, cutting him off.  Truth be told, you had grown quite attached to Mr. Weiss’ weird choice of a pet, and it never once had lashed out in the five years you knew him to have it, “and the HOA tried…he out-lawyered them on that…he claims Beau is for his sobriety.”

Lloyd huffed as he looked at you, “you’re a bleeding heart, sweetheart…you really are.”

“I just want to be helpful…”

“You are,” he said softly in response.  You gave him a smile and he patted your hand, removing his own.  You felt slightly saddened by the loss and prayed that it didn’t show across your features.  He turned away, reaching into the cabinets before grabbing two glasses, “your dad called me a few minutes before I came in.  He’s got to run out for a last minute  s-“

“I know he’s getting my ‘you’re going to be a senior’ combined with my birthday gift, Mr. Hansen…”

He smiled, nodding along, “hey…I just told him that I’d keep you for dinner…you’re not allowed back in the house until seven…so that he has sufficient time to hide it…”

“Mr. Barnes and Mr. Levinson are probably helping him, aren’t they?”

“I was just in charge of the distraction,” he smiled, shooting you a wink.  Your heart fluttered as he turned towards the fridge, grabbing a two-liter of coke, “pizza is okay for dinner…right?”

“Are you ever going to learn how to cook, Mr. Hansen?” you teased.  He smiled again, sending the butterflies rushing around in your stomach. 

“Not if I can help it,” he smirked, “Suzanne always told me not to worry about learning to cook when I did my government contracts…told me she’d rather order takeout.”

You frowned, “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he sighed.  He pulled out his phone and began a mobile order, already knowing what you liked, “but hey…speaking about the distance between you and that Barber boy…it’s probably for the best.  If he can’t respect your boundaries, then that’s a red flag for down the road…”

“We’ve been together since I was fourteen Mr. Hansen,” you shrugged, “I mean…it is the next logical step in our relationship…an-and I don’t want him to lose interest in me now that he’s going to be on a college campus…I-I mean…going to all those college parties.  College girls…I-“

“If he thinks of another girl, he’s not worth your time, sweetheart,” he replied, looking up from his phone after he placed the order, “now…I may be an old man in your eyes, but a man needs to know when to respect his significant other’s boundaries, and appreciate her…”

“Mr. Hansen…you’re not old.”

He chuckled, “old enough…look, (Y/N), I’m not saying you should listen to everything I say…I mean…I’m probably the last person you should take relationship advice from…but it’s food for thought.”

“Why do you say that, Mr. Hansen?”

“What?”

“Why should you be the last person I take relationship advice from?”

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged, “nothing you should concern yourself with at the very least…”

“I-if you want to talk, Mr. Hans-“

“I don’t, sweetheart,” he said firmly, cutting you off.  You nodded, instantly taking a step back from his sharp tone and he frowned, “I’m sorry…I just…It’s a delicate situation, sweetheart.  Suzanne and I-well, let’s just say that things aren’t easy between us.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, (Y/N), it’s not your fault,” he said with a soft look, “none of it is your fault.”

“You didn’t answer my call earlier…”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, sighing to yourself, “I was still at Mr. Hansens…”

“(Y/N), I called at nine,” he grumbled angrily, “you were still there?  You left Ashley’s at nearly two.”

“Dad had me stay over at his place a little later than normal,” you said in your defense, “he was getting his traditional ‘you’ve made it another year’ combined with my birthday gift.”

Jacob huffed in defense. 

“Why are you so defensive about it, Jacob?” you asked, “me cleaning Mr. Hansen’s house isn’t anything new!”

“It’s creepy,” he growled, agitation leaking through the line, “all of it.  You and Lloyd Hansen…he’s a married man…and he’s old.  And you’re my girlfriend.  God, if I didn’t trust you, I’d guess that you were probably fucking him, just like Ashley’s screwing Mr. Weiss.”

“Jacob!”

“I know,” he mocked, “you want to save yourself for marriage…but you have to see it from my eyes.  He’s creepy…and I know that he’s come onto you before.”

“What?” you asked, “you’re crazy if you think Mr. Hansen has ever come onto me.”

“Whatever…I’m not arguing with you about this, (Y/N).  I called because I wanted to talk to you, and here you are, starting another fight…it’s like you don’t want us to work out!”

“What?  Of course I do, Jacob.  I love you!”

“Sometimes I wonder if you really do,” he muttered.  You could hear some noise in the background before his angry tone returned, “I got to go…there’s some freshman mixer.”

And before you could respond, the line went dead, and you were left feeling alone and rejected by your own boyfriend.

Chapter 3

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @buckysteveloki-me

#big bad wolf #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #soft lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen #the gray man #gray man #defending jacob #jacob barber #chris evans characters

[scribbling-dragon]

Adaptive Nature

Chapter 3

Summary:

“Yeah.” He nods, “Yeah, you still owe me a story, after all.”

“I do?” Pixl pauses in splitting the orange, directly down the centre, to look at him.

“The stag brothers.”

Pixl hands him his half of the orange with a sigh, disturbing the small lantern and causing the flame inside to flicker with the movement. “I told you that’s not my speciality.”

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(6,390 words)

as always reblogs help more than likes! i hope you enjoy it :DD

He pushes into his tent, holding back the flap to let Pixl follow in behind him. Norman makes a small chirruping sound from where he’s lying, curled up, raising his head but not bothering to move from the mess of blankets he’s made into his bed. There’s a lantern already lit, and he thanks whoever did that for him, casting its soft glow over the canvas walls of the tent.

“Hey Norman,” he coos, crouching beside where he’s lying to stroke him, scratching behind his ear. Norman rolls over a little, stretching out and exposing his stomach. He resists the urge to pet it. It is a trap. He turns to look at Pixl, “I can't really offer you a cooked meal, I think the others would kill me if I started cooking meat this late.” And the thought of meat makes his stomach turn, bile beginning to climb up his throat. For some reason. He ignores it.

“Aren't you their Sheriff?” Pixl looks slightly worried. And a bit confused.

“Doesn't mean they can't kill me.” He moves away from Norman, closer to the bag he keeps most of his supplies in. Most importantly, the snacks he’s been hoarding for a while. He picks through his bag, finding an orange and several dried fruits, stored in little packets. There’s about a handful of almonds, too. “How do you feel about nuts?” He asks.

“They're nice,” Pixl shrugs, “Why?”

“Do you want some almonds?” He offers a few of them to Pixl, already chewing on one himself, picking through his bag to see if there’s anything more substantial. There isn't, and he gives up, turning back around with his dried mango and pineapple, and singular orange.

Pixl takes the offered almonds.

“It’s a nice place you've got here.” Pixl says.

“Thank you,” he digs his fingers into the muscles by his neck, hoping to relieve whatever tension that’s been building up over the past few days and causing his headaches. It doesn't work and he drops his hand to collect another almond, chewing on it thoughtfully and trying his best to ignore the headache that seems to pulse through his head every time he chews.

“So,” he looks up again, “Anything you do outside of being the Sheriff?”

He stiffens, the dried mango packet crinkling in his hand as he stares at Pixl. “Not much.” he manages, “I'm the Sheriff and the Sheriff is me.” He shrugs and laughs, “That’s how it is, you know?”

Pixl watches him, studies him, and he shifts a little from side to side, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. “I don't know, no.” Pixl says. “Say, what did you say your name was?”

“Oh,” he stares at Pixl, “It’s nothing important, don't worry about it. Probably best if you just know me as the Sheriff.”

Pixl frowns at him again.

“Do you want some dried mango?” He offers the packet out towards Pixl, and he takes it, still regarding him with suspicion. It makes him feel slightly uneasy. Pixl takes the dried mango, and he keeps the pineapple for himself, pulling it open and taking one of the pieces out. He prefers the pineapple to the mango.

Pixl doesn't complain as he eats, even though he probably expected to have something a little better to eat than dried fruits in a tent in the middle of the night.

“Is anyone expecting you?” Pixl gives him an odd look, and he quite quickly realises how creepy that sounds. “Not in a weird way!” He hurries to correct, “Just, is anyone going to be losing sleep if you don't get back?”

“No,” Pixl laughs a little, and it breaks the tension that had settled between them, “They're used to me wandering around, they might miss me if I'm not back tomorrow evening without a word, but not tonight.”

“Oh,” he nods, “That’s good.” He finishes the pineapple, tucking the bag he kept it in back into his supplies bag. He can probably use it again later, maybe for pineapple again. He weighs the orange in his hand, glancing over at Pixl.

When he meets his eyes they're glowing purple and he flinches backwards, dropping the orange on the floor. It rolls away from him, but he can't tear his eyes away, he can't look anywhere else. He can only continue to stare as the purple grows brighter and brighter and brighter, until all he can see is the glow. He can't even see Pixl’s face anymore.

The pressure in his head increases as the glow does, and he flinches back, gripping his head and hissing a breath out between his teeth. He still can't pull his eyes away, left staring into the purple glow that’s less in the shape of eyes and closer to just pure light that doesn't fade.

He blinks, and then folds over, gripping his head as it seems to explode with pain. He swears his ears are bleeding. They aren't, his hands aren't sticky where he presses against them, trying to soothe the last of the pain in his temples.

“Sheriff?” He looks up at Pixl’s voice, blinking once, then again, when he stares at Pixl, his eyes blue once more. He can still see the imprints of the light when he blinks. The splotches cover almost all of his vision, and he has to blink several times to get rid of it. Even then it still remains, as though permanently burned into his retina. He hopes it’s not. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah?” His voice cracks and he winces, closing his eyes as another jab of pain shoots through his head.

“You sure about that?” Pixl smiles at him.

“Not really?” He tries, “Just been having…headaches. I think it’s the mesa heat, and we’ve all been working kinda hard to get into the fishbowl and stuff.” He leans back with a sigh, wincing as the sudden change in position makes his vision swim slightly and his head throb with a vengeance. “I probably just need to drink more.”

“Make sure you do then,” Pixl’s holding the orange, he notices, and he’s halfway through peeling it. There's a small pile of pieces of orange skin next to his knee, “I thought we could split this orange,” he continues, “If you want to.”

“Yeah.” He nods, “Yeah, you still owe me a story, after all.”

“I do?” Pixl pauses in splitting the orange, directly down the centre, to look at him.

“The stag brothers.”

Pixl hands him his half of the orange with a sigh, disturbing the small lantern and causing the flame inside to flicker with the movement. “I told you that’s not my speciality.”

“I don't really mind,” he shrugs, peeling one of the orange segments away from the others to eat. “I just want to know about it.”

Pixl sighs again, and it seems to echo around the tent. Norman stirs beside him, and he strokes his head absently until he curls a little closer and goes back to sleep, a slight purr escaping him.

“It was a story, presumed a true tale because of the historical accounts that followed, that was rediscovered during the Age of Empires, which, not my speciality so not my strong point. My friend would probably be able to recite the tale to you from memory.”

“And your friend isn't here.” He counters.

“I suppose not. Besides, the tale was distributed throughout all the empires, with at least one text in each of the twelve empires. We have what is suspected to be the original, but it is written in that indecipherable language, though we have some copies in Common. It was discovered by the ruler of the Mountain Empire,” he pauses, “We don't actually know it’s true name, that was also lost to time and language barriers.”

“The story?” He prompts, “What happened in the actual story?”

“Oh,” Pixl blinks, and stares down at his half of the orange in his hand, as though it holds the secrets to the universe. He eats another segment of his own half. “A millennia before the Age of Empires, there was the Age of Corruption, where a corruption of unknown source spread through the land and wiped out entire civilizations. The gods of the time came together to banish it, driving it back, and subsequently falling into a slumber. All but two.”

“The stag brothers?” He guesses.

“Yes, Aeor and Exor. They ruled together for a long while, yet Exor grew jealous of his brother because of the way he was praised by the people that were meant to worship them both equally. And as Aeor’s worship grew, so did Exor’s jealousy. However, Exor still had followers, and Exor and Aeor’s followers began to grow apart, splitting the once peaceful Mountain Empire in two. Exor believed that weaker beings should not survive while his brother believed in keeping everything equal. Aeor’s followers eventually drove them out.”

“Exor and his followers, because they remained loyal, even then, after being driven out of their homes, they set out into the world, conquering and destroying other towns and cities. Aeor set out after his brother, challenging him to a fight that lasted for days between the two of them. Aeor won, and imprisoned his brother within the mountain, capturing him and his followers, in the hopes that they would not be able to harm others again.”

“Wait,” he interrupts Pixl, “Let me guess, they harmed others again?”

Pixl laughs. “You’d be right about that. It was many years later, and worship of Aeor was still prevalent in the empire, but most people considered the gods as nothing more than stories. There were two children, two brothers, that were playing on the outskirts of this empire when they discovered a cave with ancient ruins within. One of the brothers, Alinar, remembered the stories of the old gods and asked his brother, Cohnal, to leave. Cohnal refused, likely already sensing the power that lay within the mountain, and ventured deeper. Cohnal continued to visit the ruins after that night, even as Alinar urged him not to.”

“Time passed and the brothers drifted. Cohnal became more violent and Alinar joined the High Council of the empire. Cohnal was banished by the townspeople when his actions were exposed, more…unsavoury things coming to light.” Pixl pauses, glancing at him. “I'm not going to tell you what it was that was uncovered, by the way, I couldn't sleep for days afterwards and I don't wish for you to suffer the same.”

“Thanks.” He has two segments of his orange left, but he leaves it for now, mind filled with whatever this Cohnal could have potentially done.

“It would later be revealed that Cohnal was following the voice of Exor all these years, and his time following that voice changed him- warped him into something unrecognisable, until even the townspeople he grew up with could no longer recognise him, instead reporting sightings of a strange creature, a demon, lurking on the outskirts of the city.”

“During this time, Alinar had become a lot more religious, visiting the shrine of Aeor regularly and worshipping. During this time, it is unknown when but that was likely when Exor selected Cohnal as his Chosen, but Alinar was also selected by Aeor as his Chosen. The stories say that Alinar grew mighty antlers, like a deer, but they were pure gold, as though someone had carved an elegant headdress for him. No one had, and there are a few accounts of other Chosen throughout the ages growing similar antlers. It’s said to be incredibly painful, beginning as headaches and often odd visions that allude to past experiences. People say they're from other lives, but the pool of information is so small that it’s hard to tell what is true and what isn't.”

Pixl pauses then, and looks up from the pile of orange peel that he had slowly been shredding into smaller pieces. He doesn't say anything, just staring at him, eyes piercing. He almost expects them to start glowing with how intense his stare is. They don't, and he continues his story.

“Alinar, hearing of this creature on the outskirts and receiving knowledge from Aeor, went to confront his brother - because he knew it was his brother, even if the other townspeople didn't. People had been going missing, and Alinar knew it was time to put a stop to it, even if there was only one solution to that and the cost would be great. He discovered his brother in the ruins they had first discovered as children, the remains of the missing people surrounding him.” Pixl breathes in, hands tightening around the orange peel before relaxing again.

“He didn't recognise his brother anymore, didn't recognise him as anything more than the monster he had turned into. He had antlers, just as Alinar did, but these twisted around his face, looking as though they had been implanted in his skull rather than growing from them. There was corruption hanging from these antlers too, seeming to drip endlessly from them. Alinar called out for assistance from Aeor, and he responded, allowing Alinar to defeat his brother, killing him and weakening Exor, before Aeor banished him to another dimension completely.”

“Wait,” he holds up a hand and Pixl pauses, “He kills his brother?”

“That was what we got from the text. It never explicitly said that he killed him, but it is heavily implied. Stories and legends like these often like to skip over the deaths that are caused in the conflicts they discuss, preferring to praise the heroes and an infallible good. Revealing them to have killed someone damages this image slightly.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Pixl winces, “Not the best. Do you want me to continue?”

“There’s more?”

“Uh, yeah. We’re pretty sure Alinar died shortly after the battle, if not directly following it after Aeor stopped using him as his Chosen. There’s no mention of him in any history books or records afterwards; however, it does state that the minds of people were wiped, so perhaps there was no need for him to gain special mention, as he was completely ordinary.”

“But they weren't the only Chosen, right?”

“No, they weren't. It continued throughout history, these antlered people, always from the Mountain Empire, appearing to fight each other. The one blessed with golden antlers always overcame the one cursed with the horns of a demon, continuing the cycle. It always seems as though both Chosen disappeared after their final battle with each other, so either Aeor was continuing his trend of wiping people’s memories, or both Chosen died.”

“There was one event, however, that seemed to bring an end to the conflict. Rather than there being solely red Corruption, which was the Corruption that Exor brought with him, there was a blue Corruption, fossilised evidence of which has been found, and was presumably brought forth by Aeor. The only other difference from other accounts was that the blessed Chosen was transformed too, into an almost horrific angelic being. This is the only account where both  were confirmed to have died after the fight, Aeor’s Chosen just barely outlasting the Chosen of Exor. Apparently the townspeople were too afraid to approach either of them, and their bodies were simply left outside of the town to decay.”

He stares at Pixl. “That’s horrible.”

“It is, but it seemed to bring the conflict to an end, as both gods retreated. Some of my colleagues with more of a specialisation in the Age of Corruption or Gods suspect that they both overextended themselves and retreated to lick their metaphorical wounds. However, it wasn't the end of the conflict.”

“It sounds to me like these gods were more trouble than they were worth.”

Pixl laughs, breaking the hushed silence that had settled over their camp. He doesn't even want to think about how late (early?) it might be, listening instead to a few more complaints from outside as Pixl’s laughter dies down.

“I suppose so, but the next battle was truly the last of them. The last emperor of the Mountain Empire was Aeor’s Chosen, this time around, which was odd, as Aeor often chose those from lower backgrounds than his brother did. However, the Chosen’s brother had been missing for several decades, so it was presumed that they had been selected by Exor. The Chosen discovered a shrine to Alinar, where his antlers were laying upon a pedestal, apparently accompanied by a copy of this tale. Foolishly, he tried on the antlers, only to throw them away as soon as he had them on, apparently due to an overwhelming sense of pain.”

“He tried them on?”

“From our records, yes. We have a more in-depth recounting of this event as his husband was the emperor of the Codlands, and they had an incredibly extensive library.”

“Gay rights.”

“What?” Pixl frowns at him.

“Gay rights? You said he had a husband, so, gay rights.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose so,” Pixl laughs, “I’d never really thought of it like that.”

“Did his husband write the book?”

“It is suspected that he did, because there’s one paragraph in which the writer describes the way his eyes looked under the End’s sky. For a whole paragraph.”

“That’s epic.”

“Not really,” Pixl winces, “This emperor had very few ties with other empires, and he and his husbands had been enemies at first. The other emperors grew suspicious of him after he began to grow the antlers, and his brother had already begun to appear at the outskirts of empires, terrorising people. And likely none of them had heard of the Clash of the Great Stags, so they had no context to work under.”

“Two of those working with Exor’s Chosen captured Aeor’s Chosen, and he was tortured until being rescued by his future husband, who had apparently taken a closer interest in him after his antlers began to grow and was concerned by the other emperor’s treatment of him.”

“He might have just been using him,” he says.

“He might have, but the emperor of the Codlands seemed a kindly soul in any recounts of his rule. Though, he may have just been using him. Regardless,” Pixl shakes his head, eyes refocusing as he pushes his story back on track, “He helped the Chosen regain his feet just in time for the End’s portal to be opened, with Exor’s Chosen staging an attack on the Dragon to absorb Her magic. She was believed to be one of the last Titans.”

“Didn't they all die?” He asks.

“Only those in the Overworld and Nether.” Pixl says, “And this magic would allow likely Exor to regain power and defeat his brother for good. Obviously, Aeor’s Chosen and his newfound allies charged into battle, during which the two brothers engaged in battle. However, Aeor’s chosen abandoned his purpose to save his future husband from falling to his death. This distraction allowed them to kill the Dragon, but She had already passed Her power onto the next Dragon, and the wizard from the empire below the mountains saved it, keeping it safe from any further murders.”

“So was that it?” He asks, finding himself way too invested in this story now to leave it, “He ignored his purpose to save his husband-to-be?”

“Yes and no. They still fought later, during which Aeor’s Chosen won, at the cost of an antler, but he did sacrifice that battle, and the Dragon.”

“At the cost of an antler?”

“Exor’s Chosen just kind of,” Pixl mimes a snapping action, “Broke it off.”

“God.” He leans back a little, the movement disturbing his headache again. It rears its head with a vengeance, and he had almost managed to forget about it up until now. He blinks his eyes open a bit wider, hoping to dispel the black lurking at the edges of his vision.

“That’s all there really is to the story.” Pixl shrugs.

“All there is to the story?” He scoffs, “You just spoke to me for an hour straight about one story. Not that I'm complaining, it was a pretty cool story, but ending it with ‘that’s all there is’ is a little silly.”

“I suppose.” Pixl says, then laughs. “You're an interesting one, Sheriff. You better make sure to visit the Guild every now and then- look, give me your comm and I’ll give you my number.” Pixl makes a gesture with his hand, and he hands it over before he really thinks about it, watching Pixl as he taps his number into it.

“Thanks.” He says, when Pixl hands it back.

“No problem,” Pixl smiles at him, “I should probably get to sleep, I've gotta get back to the Guild, process a few things I've found.” His eyes linger on him then, studying him as Jimmy turns away to prepare to sleep as well.

“I can give you a ride back?” He offers.

“I'm fine, thanks.” Pixl smiles, but it’s more of a grimace.

“Hey, don't worry, Arrow’s a bit to get used to, I get it.”

“Thanks.” Pixl pulls a bedroll out of his bag, which, where had he been keeping that? “Goodnight.” He has it rolled out in one swift motion, laying down on it the next.

“Night.” He responds, laying down and curling an arm around Norman, even though he knows he’s going to wake up with a dead arm in the morning. He faces away from Pixl. He still can't get the image of his eyes glowing purple out of his mind.

He has a feeling he won't be sleeping much tonight.

 --- --- ---

Pixl is already packing up when he wakes, feeling a lot less rested than he had hoped he would be. That seems to be becoming a common occurrence at the moment. He turns, watching as Pixl rolls up his bedroll, tucking it back into his bag. He’s still not sure how he manages to fit that and all of the historical texts he carries around with him in that tiny bag. It looks like it could just barely fit the bedroll, not even including the texts with it.

“Good morning.” Pixl startles a little as he speaks, looking over at him with wide eyes, stuffing a few more sheets of paper into his bag.

“Ah, good morning.” He closes the bag, tightening the buckle to keep it closed, “I hope I didn't wake you.”

“You didn't.” He probably did, but he’s not going to say anything about that, “I needed to be up a bit earlier today anyway.”

“Oh?” Pixl turns his eyes back to his bag, away from him, but he still feels like the other is watching him. Studying him. He shifts slightly in place, and Norman complains as he disturbs him.

“Yeah, gotta get to one of the other empires in the area. Sanctuary, or something? They do woods, and we need quite a few of those.”

“Well good luck with that, then. The Protector of Sanctuary is rather nice, we’ve met a few times, but he can drive a hard bargain. Make sure you take more than enough with you, just in case.”

“Will do,” he nods. “Thanks.”

“It’s not a problem.” Pixl shifts and stands, clothes rustling as he shakes his arms out, “I really should be going now, but it was lovely meeting you, Sheriff.”

He stands too. “And you. If you need any protection while wandering around ancient ruins, don't hesitate to give me a shout.”

Pixl considers him, squinting at his face. “Thank you for the offer.” He says. “I will.” Pixl shakes his hand, unsure of when he extended it, and then takes his leave, disappearing from the tent in one swift motion.

He sits back down, unsure of what to make of the strange man. He was odd, fairly knowledgeable about the history of the area and apparently knows of the few other settlements around here. Odd. He’s definitely a little odd. He had a rather piercing stare too, as though he just looked through you and instantly knew all your secrets.

Norman meows then, rubbing up against him and purring. “Yes, yes.” He sighs, shooing Norman away a little, “I know. Feeding time.” Norman meows again, a little louder this time, and he shushes him, already elbow-deep in his bag and rummaging around for the last of Norman’s food.

He acts like he was starving when he eventually sets it out for him, eating the food probably a little too fast. He doesn't do anything else, setting out a bowl of water for Norman, scratching him behind the ears, and exiting his tent, into the sunny morning of the mesa. The bag of valuables slung around his shoulders weighs heavily on him.

A few others are already ambling around, and they perk up when he emerges, looking to him for their orders of the day. “I've found a trade partner for the wood,” he tells them, making sure to keep his voice low and not disturb those still sleeping, “I’ll have to head out there today, it’s a little further east, but in the meantime you can start making schemes for what we need to build? And perhaps reinforcing the path down, we’re going to need to fit wagons of wood down there.”

“That’s easy enough, Sheriff,” one nods, “What time shall we expect you back?”

“Mid-evening.” He tells them, “And save some food for me this time, would you? I was convinced me and my friend were gonna starve last night.”

“Not our fault you decided to go gallivanting around. And makin’ new friends too?”

“He’s from a local guild of some kind,” he replies, checking Arrow over for any clumps of dirt that might rub while he rides her, “Found him wandering the mesa last night, set on walking home through the darkness.” He’s not sure why he lies, but those around him accept it easily enough.

“Academics are insane.” He heaves the saddle onto Arrow’s back as he listens, “Imagine dedicatin’ your whole life to reading some old an’ dusty texts? Insane, I tell you.”

“You're probably not far off there,” he checks all of the straps one last time, tugging on the girth and ignoring Arrow’s displeased huff as he tightens it a little further. “Can't imagine it.” He jumps a little in place, hopping up and down to build up, before finally swinging into the saddle from the ground.

He’s suddenly a lot taller than those surrounding him, and they have to crane their heads back to look up at him. “Mid-evening.” One of them says, “Any later and I'm eating your dinner.”

“Got it.” They all step back as a group when he kicks Arrow into motion, and he laughs at their complaints, glancing over his shoulder to admire the dust cloud he kicked up on departure. He waves to them, and a few make a rather choice gesture at him.

He laughs as he turns back around, steering Arrow east and ignoring the memory of a pull in his chest. It isn't there anymore, and his headache thrums in time with Arrow’s hooves. He urges her a little faster, a little more forward, allowing them both to tear over the dry mesa, dust billowing behind them as he leans a little further forward in his seat. The bag thumps against his bag as he rides, in a steady pattern.

The headache continues to pulse behind his eyes and in the edges of his head, back and forth with the rocking motion of the horse. It’s exhausting, and they're likely not even halfway there yet. He wishes he had thought to bring some painkillers with him. Though, in his defence, he had left in a hurry, grabbing the two horses and fleeing before-

He shakes his head, almost immediately regretting it as his headache pulses again, viciously stabbing at his head and his eyes, sending pulses of white through his vision. He blinks them away as best as he can, focusing on keeping Arrow straight.

He has to slow to a sedate canter as they enter a more lush area, cautious of hidden vines waiting to trip Arrow and send him flying. He’s also a little reluctant to let her jump any logs, he’d watched his brother fly from the saddle one too many times while jumping to trust her with that.

He slows further as the trees around him seem to crowd a little closer, the foliage just a little too dense to continue at the pace they’d been moving at. There’s a winding path that he’s following and hoping it’s not just a path an animal cut through the trees.

The light flickers between the leaves, in and out of his vision, and it only serves to make his headache worse. He squints his eyes a little more shut, peering ahead and learning around Arrow’s head to make sure they're still on the thin track.

They are, and Arrow seems content to continue following it, only stopping once to nibble at a plant. He moves her on before she can bury her head in the bush, concerned with the way the sun is almost at its peak already. It’s taken him half a day to get here, and he needs to be back quicker than he arrived.

Light flashes through the trees, and he winces at the stab of pain that follows it, jolting through his head. He turns Arrow towards it anyway. It’s probably their best bet for finding Sanctuary in this mess of a jungle.

He emerges from beneath the canopy, only to find the sea lapping at a small shore. He stares at it, unsure of how he’s managed to hit the sea before Sanctuary. He peers around him, left, then right. He can't see very far due to the light seemingly intent on blinding him, but he is pretty sure that there’s something poking out into the water.

He turns Arrow towards it. It’s their best bet, otherwise he’s going to be forced to return with nothing and set out again tomorrow to try and find some wood so they can stop living in tents. He’s sick and tired of the sand getting everywhere.

Arrow picks her way carefully along the shoreline, avoiding the lapping waves with a vengeance. He has to cling a little tighter to the reins after the third time she hops away from the water. He thought horses liked water. She jumps every time the water comes just a little too close to her hooves, and the jolting and jumping and the goddamn light is doing nothing for his headache.

“Hey!” That person shouting isn't doing much for it either, and he turns towards the sound with a tired sigh. There’s someone standing just inside the treeline, on the wooden structure he can now see is a dock. They have their hands on their hips and look, quite frankly, pissed.

He swallows, lifting one hand from the reins to wave at them. They don't change their stance though, and he leads Arrow a little closer to them, trying to exercise caution.

“What are you doing here?” They demand, face set into a frown.

“Uh, looking for Sanctuary?” He looks around, “Is this not it?”

“Oh.” The person blinks, face changing to a smile, “Well this is it, what can I do for you?” He thinks he might have whiplash from the swift change in personality, but dismounts anyway, feet clunking on the wood.

“I'm looking for some wood?” His head swims a little, “I've got a small settlement, probably,” he turns to look at the sun, “Just about west from here? And we’re a bit sick of living in tents. I just, I heard this was the place to ask?”

“Well aren't you in luck,” the man grins at him, “We’ve just got a new shipment in today!” He turns away from him, and hurries to lead Arrow after him, following him deeper into the jungle. There’s a flourishing town around the dock, and he can see several people peering at him from inside their houses, watching him walk past.

“I'm the Protector of Sanctuary,” the man introduces himself, “You may call me Sausage, if you so wish.”

“I'm the Sheriff.” He responds, ignoring the weird look that Sausage gives him at that.

“Just the Sheriff?” Sausage asks.

“Just the Sheriff.” He agrees. There’s a building at the end of the road they're currently on, several cut logs depicted on the sign in front. He gets the feeling that’s where they're headed. “Sheriff of Tumble Town.”

“Tumble Town,” Sausage hums, “That’s a nice name, new, did you say?”

“Relatively new, yeah, building up currently. I'm hoping it won't take long, especially not if the logs you stock are as good quality as I hear they are.”

“Oh, you're a flatterer aren't you?” The man laughs, “You can get most places in life with a little flattery, and it’s a good thing it works on me, hm?” Sausage spins on his heel in front of the building, opening his arms wide and startling both him and Arrow.

“I suppose so?”

“So,” Sausage moves on, “What can I get for you today? Spruce? Oak? Birch? Dark oak? Mangrove?”

“Uh, spruce and oak?” He’s trying to think of what goes best with the reds and browns of the mesa, which woods will blend in best while also standing out. But not too much.

“Right, right.” Sausage nods his head, as though in approval, “We can get a pretty large shipment out to you within the next two days, provided that you give us the coordinates, obviously. How many people did you say were living with you Sheriff?”

“There’s probably about fifteen of us in total?” He hasn't done a headcount but that seems about right to him. He’s struggling to think with the headache, it’s as though it’s springing from side to side of his skull, pinging back and forth with an electricity that leaves him feeling slightly sick.

“Fifteen.” Sausage nods, turning his back on him to write on a sheet of paper. “How does six bundles of each sound?”

“Six bundles?” He questions. The ground is swaying a little, his head pounding. All he wants to do is close his eyes and go back to sleep. He can't though, and he forces them open again. Sausage’s back is still turned towards him. He’s not writing anymore.

“Just over thirty logs in each bundle, should give you enough to at least get started, and you know where we are now, don't you?”

“Yeah.” He nods, but it’s barely that, barely an up and down motion. It still makes pain ricochet around his brain. “How much will that be?”

“What’ve you got?” Sausage turns to face him again, and he’s already pulling his bag from his shoulder, opening it for Sausage to peer into.

“Ooh, some gold would do nicely.” Sausage looks up at him, I’ll take all the gold you've got in this bag. I’ve been meaning to go mining, but last time I went on a trip there was all this stuff, just all over the walls.” Sausage shudders. “It was disgusting.”

He hands the gold over, letting Sausage tuck it away into his own bag. He raises his hand to shake, and Sausage takes it, giving it a firm shake to seal the deal. “What did you say your name was again?” Sausage asks, and he doesn't release his hand when he tries to tug it backwards.

“I didn't.” He pulls at his hand, but Sausage’s grip remains steadfast, gripping onto his hand hard enough that he swears he can feel his bones grind together.

“Oh.” He meets Sausage’s eyes, jolting back, fear making his heart begin to pound as he drops Arrow’s reins to claw at Sausage’s hand. The whole of his eyes, iris, sclera- all of it, has turned a deep blue, interspersed with pinpricks of light. “What is it, then?”

“I'm not telling you.” He grits out, yanking his hand back. Sausage releases it, and he fumbles for Arrow’s reins again. When he looks back at Sausage his eyes are normal again, and he’s staring at his hand in confusion.

“Sorry about that,” Sausage grins when he looks back up at him, “Must’ve spaced out or something.”

“Or something.” He mutters. His head hurts.

“We’ll have your logs along in a day or two. Pleasure doing business with you.” He sticks his hand out for a handshake, frowning a moment later and pulling his hand back towards himself. “There’s a more direct route through the jungle that way.” Sausage points him in the opposite direction of the dock, and he nods, already hurrying in the direction.

He can't help but feel afraid, casting Sausage a backwards glance as he mounts Arrow again. He’s still standing there, staring at his hand. As he watches, Sausage turns it over, checking over his skin.

He kicks Arrow into motion, tearing along the path a little faster than he probably should. He doesn't care. He doesn't slow, either, until he’s burst out of the other side of the jungle and is well on his way back to the mesa.

He only slows when his comm buzzes, and he pulls it up, peering at the words on the screen. He adjusts the brightness when it hurts his eyes and adds fuel to the fire of his headache.

<Pixlriffs> I’ve found information about a new ruins, and I'm rather certain I’ve pinpointed it on the map. Do you want to accompany me, make sure I don't die to the night?

He pulls Arrow to a stop to type out his response.

<SolidarityGaming> i can. when do you want to visit it?

<Pixlriffs> Tomorrow, sorry for the short notice. I won't hold it against you if you can't make it.

<SolidarityGaming> i can do tomorrow

He kicks Arrow into a canter once more, dust billowing behind them, as he considers their expedition for tomorrow. How had Pixl found another place to visit so quickly? He must've only just arrived back, unless he had someone else do the research for him. But also, why him?

Surely they have people better suited to accompany a researcher to an ancient ruin than some random sheriff from a barely beginning town.

His head hurts.

#juno.writes #REBLOG please :] #adaptive nature fic #empires smp #jimmy solidarity #empires smp fic #empires smp season 2 #pixlriffs #mythicalsausage #empires pixl #empires sausage #empires jimmy #esmp #empiressmp #empires smp s2 #empires s2 #esmp s2 #solidaritygaming #solidarity gaming

[mama-qwerty]

The Rock

This popped into my head this morning when I woke up at about 4.

Just a short thing, but it was a cute scene in my head. More gremlin antics. Enjoy!

~~~~~

“ECLIPSE!”

Silver startled at his mother’s sudden yell, and he put his book down. A loud clambering came up the stairs, and he immediately recognized it as his darkling brother mounting them on all fours. He tended to do that when he was in a hurry.

Like when he was in trouble.

A black and red streak zipped past Silver’s open door, with their mother close behind.

“Stop!” she yelled, and went to her knees to slide down the hallway, reaching for her younger child. “C’mere!”

Silver leapt off his bed, hurrying to the doorway to see what the all commotion was about.

His mother had successfully caught Eclipse, who was growling and wriggling in the headlock she had him in.

“What’s going on?” he asked, leaning against the door frame. This was not an unusual sight.

Callie uttered a grunt as she tried to pry the darkling’s mouth open. “Your brother ate a rock.”

“Again?”

“I know, you’d think he would have learned from last time,” she said, before uttering another grunt. “C’mon you little gremlin. Open your mouth!”

“NO!” Eclipse hissed through gritted teeth. “LEE ME ALONE!”

Silver heaved a sigh. Eclipse, like he and the other kids who’d come to this planet, possessed unique physical traits and abilities that no human had. The darkling, for example, could replace his teeth at a seemingly unending rate, much like a shark. While this had certain benefits, it could also make him careless in many instances. Such as eating rocks, because he thought chewing on them would strengthen and sharpen said teeth.

What it really did was make him lose a good number of them all at once, leaving much of his gum open and bare until they regrew. Somehow the vision of a toothless Eclipse was more disturbing than when he had a mouthful of sharp, pointy fangs.

“Open. Your. Mouth,” his mom said through her own gritted teeth. “I swear to all that is good and holy, Eclipse, if you don’t open your mouth right now--”

“NO!”

Callie went to her knees to get a better grip on her son, and he redoubled his efforts to escape. They struggled for a few more seconds before she pulled back, uttering a loud cry, and cradling her hand to her chest.

Both boys gasped, moving toward her in concern.

“Mom!” Silver called, hurrying around to see. “Are you okay?”

“M’sorry!” Eclipse said through clamped teeth. He curled his tail around himself, golden eyes wide with worry. “M’sorry! I didn’t bite! I don’t think? I didn’t mean to! Don’t be mad! I’ll be good!”

Their mom immediately straightened, and held her hand out, palm up.

“Rock. Now.”

The darkling stood still for a few seconds, confusion passing his face as he came to grips what had happened. Silver covered his mouth with a hand to hide a smile. His mom had pretended to be hurt to get him to cooperate. It was a clever trick.

Eclipse’s brows furrowed as understanding sank in.

“That was mean,” he said, before opening his mouth and holding the rock out on his forked, green tongue. Callie took it and Eclipse licked his lips. “I thought I hurt you.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” his mom said, before knee-walking before the boy. “Eclipse, I’m begging you. Stop eating rocks. They’re not good for your teeth, I promise.”

“But they’ll grow back!”

“Not the point, child o’ mine,” she said, rubbing a knuckle across his muzzle. “Besides, you’re kinda creepy when you’re all gum like that.”

Silver uttered a small grunt. “Thank you. It’s really weird.”

“You’re weird,” Eclipse muttered, and stuck his tongue out. Silver responded in kind.

Callie ignored it. “And what if you’d swallowed it? Best case scenario it could make bathroom trips really hard, and worst case scenario we may need to get Maddie to remove it. Which I highly doubt you’d enjoy.”

The boy crossed his arms, a pout pinching his face. “Fine.”

“C’mon, Monkey,” their mom said. “Let’s go see how many you managed to knock loose.” She stood and hefted the boy up, tossing him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He giggled, tail flicking happily, his previous pout forgotten. Eclipse was much more into roughhousing than Silver, and he loved when their mom was a little rougher in play. “Wanna see, Bug?”

“Coming!” Silver called, hurrying after them as they headed downstairs.

~~~

Like this? Check out my other snippets. Reblogs are appreciated!

#my fics #my writing #eclipse the darkling #silver the hedgehog #callie macpherson #sonic fanfiction #sonic the hedgehog fanfiction

[antigonewinchester]

Funny how I said I was enjoying s11 and then... proceeded to stop watching for months. Making a push to finally finish through s11. But I’ve definitely run into a batch of eps I didn’t enjoy as much, unfortunately.

For all I’d heard abt “Beyond the Mat” and “Red Meat” as great eps, I thought they were both just fine. I’m a weird spot with Dabb’s eps in that I do think he’s a decent writer on a technical level and yet the tones and underlying themes of his eps are so bleak. I’ve talked abt it a bit before, of Dabb’s eps having a kind of cruelty or meanness or bitterness to them, which frankly makes it very darkly funny to me that people thought he would end the whole series on an uplifting high note. Did people not remember 4x06 or 7x14 or 11x15...? Also was not a fan of the 3x10 callback in “Beyond the Mat,” from a, referencing 3x10 is not gonna make your ep as good as 3x10, and then in also how it feeds into what can be Dabb’s brutal/mean read of Dean & his characterization, which rubs me the wrong way in a bitter Deangirl sense, I admit. “Red Meat” as again a ‘Dean sacrifices himself to save Sam’ plot was just... yeah, we’ve seen this, a lot. ALSO it was hilarious that Billie was harping on Sam and Dean for going “against the natural order” in unnaturally coming back to life again and again when Sam’s “death,” coming back to life, and taking down the rest of the werewolves like a total badass was incredibly unrealistic. If the theme was supposed to be “going against the natural rhythms of life and death is bad,” then Sam’s “death” and return to life should have been written in a more believable, realistic way, instead of contradicting the thematic spine of the ep.

However, “Safe House” was much more fun for me, with the perspective switches between Sam & Dean / Bobby & Rufus as a compelling concept! A call back to some old, fan favorite characters in an organic way.

Cas is hilariously unsympathetic to me in “Hell’s Angel,” and frankly kind of through the whole season. Which I don’t think was the intent by the writers, but dang, his letting his insecurities and desire to be a “hero” drive his decision to say Yes to Lucifer and then not caring at all when Crowley gets beaten up by Lucifer is something, huh. Would be much more interesting to me if these flaws went anywhere, instead of it culminating in the moment in 11x23 where Dean reassures Cas he was just trying to do the right thing so he shouldn’t worry about it, which is such a... boring and frustrating way to resolve this conflict. (It is very weird to me that people say the writers “didn’t like” or were “biased” against Cas in later seasons, because Cas makes so many bad decisions that are eventually framed as not really bad decision by the narrative in a way that reads as bias towards Cas, not against. And hard for me not to read these writing choices as catering to fandom/fan reactions, tbh.)

Last and kind of least, I found “The Chitters” to be near unwatchable... The pure TV writing and dialogue, it was just like nails on a chalkboard. I wanted to like this ep after its creepy cold open but it just did not work for me.

#season 11 #spn rewatch #sam #dean #cas #this watch post was kind of downer lol :(( #unfortunately it's easier to write abt what you didn't like abt something than what you did? at least for me

[rindecision]

Chapter 13: Reunion - The Devil of Hawkins

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 |

“Wait, so you can just retract them at will?” Robin said while poking the webbing of Eddie’s wing. “That’s insane.”

Eddie laughed, “yeah.” He moved his wing so that he could tap her hand with the tip of the top spine.

Robin cringed as she quickly pulled back her hand and rubbed where he touched. “Jesus, that’s creepy.”

“You wanted to see them.” Eddie folded his wings into his back.

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re awesome but freaky.” She cringed again as she watched the wings disappear under his skin.

Eddie put on a lighter-weight shirt than the turtleneck he was wearing. “It was weird for me at first too, but I’ve gotten used to them.”

Robin made an exaggerated shiver. “Ugh, What a thing to get used to.”

“Honestly, I’m kind of attached to them.” Eddie rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. “It’s kind of like a second pair of hands.” He fell backward onto the couch, making sure his head landed in Steve’s lap, he could feel his legs tense on contact. “Plus, Steve seems to like ‘em.” He smiled up at a startled Steve. “Don’t ya?”

Steve relaxed his arms, avoiding touching Eddie by placing one on the arm of the couch and one hanging over the back. “They’re kind of cool.” He obviously avoided looking at Eddie. With a snicker, Eddie put one arm behind his head on Steve’s lap, passively stroking his thumb over his thigh.

“Steve,” Robin snorted as she sat in a recliner opposite them. “You are so transparent.”

Steve looked at her uncertainly. “What are you talking about?” Both Robin and Eddie laughed at his obliviousness. “What?” he repeated.

“If you want to be affectionate, it doesn’t bother me.” Robin pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged in the recliner.

Steve stared at her like a deer in headlights. “I-” he didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t even considered that. Did he want to be affectionate to Eddie? He looked down at the man on his lap, Eddie’s large black eyes smiling up at him. He’d never found a guy cute before, but he felt a wave of relaxation fall over him just looking at Eddie’s smile. Don’t think too hard. With a sigh, he looked away and let his arm slide off the back of the couch and onto Eddie’s stomach. He could feel his face getting warmer.

Eddie looked down at Steve’s hand resting gently on him, and looked away equally embarrassed, unsuccessfully stopping himself from smiling. Robin smirked at the pair. Watching Eddie be Eddie, really did relieve her worries as Steve said. If it wasn’t for his appearance, she wouldn’t have any concerns. But his wings look exactly like the demobats’, and he has wings. She sighed with a sweet smile. “Oh, right!” She sat up straighter. Both Steve and Eddie looked over at her. “The reason I came over in the first place!” Her eyes lit up as she gripped her ankles.

Steve’s attention was piqued as he absentmindedly dropped his other hand and rested it on the top of Eddie’s head. Eddie’s smile twitched wider.

“It’s Vickie!” she stated with a big smile.

“Vickie?” Eddie looked at her confused, “as in Vickie from band?”

“Yeah,” Robin nodded happily.

“Are you okay with Eddie knowing about this?” Steve warned, the hand on Eddie’s head was mindlessly playing with his hair. Eddie looked up at Steve, confused by his words, but enjoying the attention.

She raised her eyebrow at him, “It’s fine, who’s he going to tell anyway?” She continued talking before either of them could speak up. “But she came into Family Video yesterday and asked if I wanted to go see a movie with her tomorrow. Of course, I said yes, probably a little too eagerly if I’m being honest. But now I don’t know what to do. Is this a date, or is it just a friendly outing? Do I dress casually or doll up? I have no idea what her type is, so even if I did dress up I would have no clue what to wear.”

Eddie smiled as he realized what was going on. “Treat it as a friendly outing,” he said calmly. Robin looked at him with big eyes.

“I was about to say the same thing,” Steve added, twirling a lock of Eddie’s hair between his fingers.

“Really? You don’t think it’s a date?” she groaned, “of course, it’s not a date, how dumb can I be.”

“It could be,” Eddie smiled.

Robin quirked her brow at him. “Huh? Then why act like it’s not?”

“A casual approach is less intimidating,” Steve explained. “Act like it’s no big deal and follow her lead. Throw a little extra makeup in your bag and if she dolls up, you can take the time to fix yours up to match.”

“That wouldn’t be weird if I suddenly had heavier makeup on?”

“She’ll notice the change, but she’ll take it as you noticed hers. I’ve done the same thing, not with makeup,” Steve added quickly, “but with my hair or clothes.”

“And it works?” Robin strained.

“Every time.” Steve leaned back smugly and slid the hand on Eddie’s stomach under the rim of his shirt. Eddie tightly closed his eyes and rolled in his lips, barely able to handle Steve’s passive affection.

A knock at the door sent them all bolt upright. They looked at each other and Eddie swallowed heavily, a little dizzy from the emotional whiplash.

“I’ll get it.” Robin stood and walked to the door like she was going into battle.

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie bounced nervously on the couch. He gave in and risked stealing a quick kiss from Steve. His shocked face helped calm Eddie’s nerves a little.

“Hi, Hopper,” Robin answered the door shyly.

“What’s the emergency?” he said, quickly stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Um,” she paused, “It’s, uh,” she didn’t even know how to begin explaining things. Hopper looked at her expectantly, “I’ll just have to show you.”

Jim looked at her skeptically but followed her into the living room. As soon as he saw Eddie’s features he pulled out his gun and pointed it at him. “What the hell is that?”

Robin and Steve exclaimed in panic at Hopper’s quick reaction. Eddie yipped and hid behind Steve, who already had an arm up in front of him. “I told you he’d try to kill me!” he yelled.

“Ed?” He paused in shock before lowering his gun.

“Hi Hop,” Eddie’s voice cracked as he peeked over Steve’s shoulder.

Steve looked at Hopper with big eyes. “You scared the hell out of me.” He lowered his arm.

“That scared the hell out of me.” He pointed at Eddie with his gun, getting him to wince and duck behind the couch. Eddie’s timid demeanor coaxed him to drop his guard enough to speak casually, “what on earth happened to you?” He walked closer, putting his gun back in its holster, but kept it unclipped and his hand on it.

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” Robin said as she passed him and sat back on the recliner.

“How did you survive?” Hopper walked around the couch and stood in front of the entertainment center to get a better look at him.

“I didn’t?” Eddie awkwardly smiled.

“What do you mean you didn’t?” Hopper nearly shouted.

“This was a bad idea, guys,” Eddie whined.

“What happened to you?” Hopper demanded.

“I don’t know!” his lips trembled as his big, scared, black eyes looked up at Hopper.

“Jesus,” Hopper walked closer to Eddie, making him squeak and curl into a shrimp on the couch. “Are you even human?”

“I don’t know?” Eddie said tentatively.

Hopper closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “What do you know?”

Eddie sighed and wrapped his arms around his legs, pressing them into his chest. He stared at his knees as he spoke, “I randomly woke up in the Upside Down, then I came to Steve. I really don’t know much more than that.” He looked pitifully up at Hopper.

Hopper softened slightly at the sight of Eddie being pathetic, even if he looked like he was just pulled from a morgue, he was at least human enough to have emotions. His voice remained firm but not angry. “When did this happen?”

“About two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks?!” Hopper shouted, his anger was back in full force. Eddie winced. “You’ve known about this for two weeks?” he turned his anger onto Steve.

Steve stammered in fear.

“I just found out today,” Robin said quietly.

Hopper ignored her. “Two weeks,” he repeated. “You were at my house less than a week ago, and you didn’t say anything?”

“Sorry,” Steve sunk into the couch.

“It’s mainly my fault,” Eddie admitted with a sigh, he hated seeing Steve being scolded. “I asked him to.”

Hopper looked back at Eddie. “Why?” he snapped.

Eddie flinched. “I was worried that word would get to the town and that Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and the rest of Hellfire would become even more of a target. I really don’t want to cause them more problems,” he said meekly.

Hopper tried to calm himself with a deep breath. “You realize that by not telling us,” His anger gradually rose as he spoke, “you could have risked everyone’s safety?”

“I do now?” Eddie cringed.

“You almost get a pass.” He looked at Eddie. “But you,” he growled as he turned to Steve, who froze in terror. “You’ve been a part of this since the beginning, you should have known better than to keep something like this hidden.”

Steve was reminded of his dad scolding him for drinking and having a small party while he was away. He knew Hopper was right and did feel bad for not mentioning anything earlier.

Jim turned around and placed a hand on his forehead, obviously trying his best not to blow up at them. “So let me get this straight.” He turned back to face Eddie and Steve, towering over them. “You woke up in the Upside Down, looking like that,” he waved a hand at Eddie’s face, “decide to go to Steve” He pointed at Steve while looking at Eddie, “of all people,” Steve looked up at him, offended. “And wanted to keep it a secret just because you didn’t want to be a bother?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Eddie said, feeling a little ashamed with everything being oversimplified.

“The rest of the Hellfire Club has already been absolved of their involvement, so you don’t need to worry about that."

Eddie sighed with relief.

“Regardless, it was reckless,” Hopper snapped, “of the two of you to keep this a secret from the group. You remember what happened with Will,” he looked at Steve, “his connection to the Upside Down nearly killed all of us.” He kept heavy eye contact with him. “And if Ed,” he blindly pointed at him, “is in the same situation then he needs to be monitored at all times.”

Eddie didn’t like the sound of that, “what?”

“I’m confiscating this.” Hopper grabbed Eddie’s upper arm and started walking him to the front door.

“Wait, what?” Eddie looked at the other two with pleading eyes.

Robin and Steve scrambled out of their seats and hurried after them. “Where are you taking him?” Steve called as he remained close behind Eddie. “Woah, Hopper, wait up.” He continued to follow them out the front door, pausing on the concrete landing.

Robin was directly behind Steve. “What do we do?” she said quietly.

“I don’t know,” Steve groaned. He watched as Jim pushed Eddie’s chest against the side of a car and handcuff his arms behind his back. “But I can't just stand here.” Steve ran toward the car, leaving Robin standing in the doorway, speechless.

“Where are you taking me?” Eddie panicked, almost angry. He knew if he wanted to, he could break free from him and leave, but he needed Hopper’s trust.

“The point is for you not to know,” Hopper said as he opened the back door of the car and pushed Eddie inside roughly. Steve slipped under Hopper’s arm before he closed the door.

Once inside, Steve rolled down the window and called out to Robin, who was standing in the doorway. “Lock up, you know the drill.” She looked at him with wide, scared eyes and nodded slowly. He turned back to Eddie and helped him sit up properly on the seat, buckling him in. A calmness fell over Eddie as he looked at Steve getting him situated. He could hardly believe Steve ran after him without a second thought. If his hands weren’t restrained, he’d have a hard time not hugging him.

Hopper walked over to Robin who shot into perfect posture as he approached. “My place will be on lockdown, so pass the word along to the others alright? I’ll figure out what to do with him and let everyone else know as soon as we figure out what’s going on. So just tell them El needs to focus on training or something, but don’t mention anything about Eddie, okay?”

Robin nodded firmly, “yes, sir,” she said meekly.

Hopper smirked, pat her on the shoulder, and turned back to the car. The car door slammed shut as Hopper got in the front. He rooted through the passenger seat and glove box. Eventually, he tossed a roll of bandages to Steve. “Use those to cover his eyes.” He turned back to the wheel and started driving.

“Sorry,” Steve said as he unrolled the beige bandages.

Eddie sighed, “It’s fine.” He looked down at Steve’s lips, desperately wanting to kiss them.

Steve noticed and smiled shyly as he started to wrap the bandages around Eddie’s head. His hair made it hard for them to stay in place.

“Thanks,” Eddie spoke softly.

“For what?” he laughed as he struggled to get Eddie’s hair out of the way of the bandage.

“Coming with me.”

Steve paused, "well that makes more sense, I thought you were thanking me for bandaging your head." He hadn’t even thought about why he ran after Eddie, he’d just hopped in the car because it felt like he should. “But yeah... no problem.”

Eddie smirked at Steve’s assumption. “I wish these were different circumstances,” he said quietly with a coy smirk.

Steve groaned and finished wrapping the bandages. “Is that too tight?”

“Nah.” Eddie shook his head.

Steve looked around the car's interior. “Isn’t this Jonathan’s car?”

“Yeah,” Hopper answered casually, “we got it fixed when we went to get some supplies from Joyce’s place in Lenora. I’m borrowing it from him until I can get a car of my own secured.”

“Oh,” Steve looked around, eventually his eyes landed on Eddie, he looked strange with the bandages around his head.

“Y’know,” Eddie whispered, “it’s not the first time I’ve been cuffed in the back of a car, but it is the first time I’ve been blindfolded in one.” He smiled at where he assumed Steve was.

“But not your first time being blindfolded?” Steve matched his volume.

“Does a pillow count?” Eddie smirked playfully.

“Here you are, Ms. Wheeler.” The secretary set a small stack of papers on Nancy’s desk.

“More already?” Nancy flipped through the pages.

“Yes, I’m sorry, we’ve had an influx of calls recently.”

“It’s fine,” she sighed, “thank you.”

The secretary nodded, returning to her desk, and Nancy looked through the new pages in detail. It was more of the same that she’d been seeing repeatedly. Mostly reports that would be more suited to the cops. Mainly missing persons, vandalism, and theft. The newspaper was already consistently posting the list of missing persons, the ones that Nancy had were all duplicates of ones that are already featured. The vandalism calls were mostly false reports, and the damage was from the earthquake or its aftermath. Same with the theft reports. She did glean one consistency from all of them. They were all reports that should have been sent to the cops, so why were they being sent to The Hawkins Post?

She grinned as she smelled a possible story.

After a long drive, Hopper stopped the car, waking Eddie from his nap on Steve’s shoulder. Hopper swung open the back door closest to Steve. “Out,” he stated firmly.

Steve helped Eddie clumsily get out of the back seat.

“Make sure he doesn’t trigger any of the alarms,” Hopper called back as he walked through the woods.

Alarms? Eddie stumbled blindly at Steve’s direction. By the smell, he could assume they were in the woods. When they reached the cabin, Hopper knocked irregularly at the door, the locks unlatched, and they walked in. Eddie tripped on the threshold in the process, and Steve shut the door behind them.

“You can remove the blindfold,” Hopper said, taking off his coat.

“Finally,” Eddie said relieved as Steve started unwrapping his head, the texture of the bandages felt like it remained on his skin. He smiled when the first thing he saw was Steve looking away awkwardly as he set the bandage in a wad on the coffee table. Eddie looked around and recognized the place right away. ‘The point is for you not to know.’ Hopper’s words repeated in Eddie’s mind. He decided to remain quiet on the matter, for now. He didn’t really want to get into another fight.

“You’ll be staying here until I can figure out what to do with you,” Hopper said plainly. He pulled out his gun and checked the chamber for remaining bullets. He closed it and looked back at a very intimidated Eddie. “I won’t hesitate if you do anything that could harm El, Steve, or myself. This place is on lockdown, no one comes, and no one leaves. Understood?”

Steve and Eddie nodded in unison.

“Good.” He slid his gun back into its holster.

Steve looked around, just realizing he was stuck there.

“Hop?” El peeked out of her room. She looked at Steve confused. “Steve?”

“Hey, El.” Steve waved.

She looked at Eddie’s complexion with worry as she opened her door the rest of the way. “Who is that?”

“That’s Eddie,” Hopper said grumpily.

“Eddie?” she said in awe, “dead Eddie?”

Eddie smirked, he liked the sound of that.

“Yup.” Hopper swung the keys to Eddie’s handcuffs around his finger.

“Why does he look like that?” She stepped out of her room and into the living room, keeping her eye on Eddie. She didn’t like how much he reminded her of Billy.

“We’re not sure.” Hop turned to her and smiled as an idea crossed his mind. “He may be related to One. Remember what I told you about when Will was possessed, and what you told me about Billy? Might be something like that.”

“Really?” She looked at Eddie, a slight fear and anger in her eyes. Eddie got a bad feeling. Hopper nodded. She turned to Eddie, swallowed, and held out her hand.

He slowly began lifting off the ground. “What?” Eddie looked down at his feet in a panic, reminded of when Chrissy was possessed. “What?” he repeated higher and more frantic. His heart started to race with fear.

“El, what are you doing?” Steve stepped back and watched as Eddie lifted into the air.

Eddie squeaked and curled himself into a ball, “what’s happening?”

“If he is part of Henry, then he needs to be dealt with.” Her angry expression intensified.

“No, El!” Steve looked at her, terrified. “Don’t do this,” he pleaded.

“Don’t do what?” Eddie cried.

“I do not have a choice.” She strengthened her psychic grip on Eddie.

He shouted as he felt a constriction over his whole body. “What did I do?”

“Please, El.” Steve begged, “let’s just talk about this.”

Hopper smiled and leaned against the back wall watching the commotion.

“Talk never works,” she gripped him tighter getting a near scream from him.

“Please,” Eddie whimpered, curling himself tighter into a ball.

“El!” Steve felt powerless as he watched El torture Eddie in front of him. Out of everyone he never expected El to be the one to act so rashly. He looked at Hopper. “Are you just going to let her do this?” he shouted.

Hopper shrugged, vaguely amused. Steve stumbled as Eddie let out another scream, the pain made his muscles act on impulse and his wings burst from his back, tearing Steve’s shirt. El gasped and looked horrified. Hopper nearly fell over as he reached for his gun.

“What the fuck is that?” Hopper pointed his gun at Eddie.

Eddie’s wings wrapped around him like a cocoon. “Please,” he whimpered again. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Can we all just calm down!” Steve yelled his hands on either side of his head.

“How do you expect me to be calm with that?” Hopper shouted back, keeping his gun pointed at Eddie.

“What are you?” El asked, loosening her grip but keeping him in the air.

Eddie panted frantically. “I don’t know, I just woke up like this!” he shouted from behind his wings. “I’m just as confused and scared as you are!”

El moved her hand and Eddie along with it, getting a squeak and full body tense from him. She set him gently on the couch. Steve ran up to him and watched as he quivered from beneath his wings. El wiped the blood from her nose with the back of her hand and looked at Eddie with a calmer expression. “He is fine,” she stated plainly.

“Seriously?” Hopper said as he put his gun away.

Steve’s eyes were darting from El to Eddie to Hopper in complete confusion, “what was that?” he knelt on the floor beside Eddie.

Eddie peeked out from behind his wings, remaining in a ball. He glanced at El, to Steve, and back to El.

“I am sorry,” she said sincerely, sitting next to Eddie. He flinched away from her and almost rolled off the couch. Steve lifted his hands to catch him, but Eddie managed to right himself on his own. Eddie looked at her, regretting agreeing to this. “I had to test you.”

Eddie furrowed his brow at El. Steve placed a hand on Eddie’s wing, making him flinch violently. He removed his hand and looked up at Eddie, worried.

“I needed to know how much control Henry has over you,” she explained.

“And?” Hopper said walking up to the back of the couch.

“It is not like Billy or Will. It is new.” El looked at Eddie curiously. “Henry definitely made you like this, but he didn’t show any signs of control when you were threatened.”

“I thought you were going to kill me,” Eddie said meekly, quivering.

“That was the idea,” Hopper leaned against the back of the couch looking at Eddie, uncertain of what to make of the fleshy spines wrapped around him.

Eddie noticed Hopper staring, so he retracted his wings. Hopper watched in horror as they slid into Eddie’s back. Eddie looked up at him, “can I get the cuffs off at least?” he said weakly. Hopper looked at El. She nodded. Eddie leaned forward, so his hands were easier to get to as Hopper walked to the side of the couch and unlocked the cuffs. As soon as they were off, he moved his hands in front of him and rubbed his wrists. “Your power is no joke, kid,” Eddie said, looking at El apprehensively. Eddie turned to look at his shoulder, he pulled at the fabric of the shirt to check out the tears. “Sorry about your shirt, man.” He said looking down at Steve.

Steve smirked, “it’s fine,” he sighed heavily with relief. He noticed Eddie’s face had wet streaks on his cheeks, “I’m just glad she wasn’t actually trying to kill you.” He stood and placed a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

El tilted her head curiously at Eddie, “what were those things from your back?”

“Wings,” Steve and Eddie said in unison.

“Wings?!” Hopper and El yelled back in disbelief.

Eddie smiled, he’d always been one to enjoy shocking people, “yeah.” The small rush made him relax a little.

“Does that mean you can fly?” El asked, leaning forward.

Eddie laughed nervously at El getting closer. “Yup.” He dropped his feet, forcing himself to get more comfortable on the couch and sit on it properly. Steve stepped aside so he didn’t block his legs.

El inched closer and looked up at his face, Eddie tensed. “Are you really Mike’s Eddie?”

Eddie let out a genuine laugh. “Mike’s? Since when does that twerp own me? If anything I own his ass.” He smiled at her. “And I’m guessing, you’re Mike’s El?”

El glanced up at him, shocked, and looked away shyly. “He talked about me?”

“He never shut up about you.” He found her bashfulness adorable, even though she was trying to kill him only minutes ago, she seemed so innocent. “It was annoying as hell.”

She laughed softly. Steve sighed with relief as he saw them casually chatting. He looked up at Hopper who was back to leaning against a wall watching them suspiciously. Steve walked over to stand next to him. He leaned against the wall beside him and watched El and Eddie chat. “I wouldn’t be too worried,” Steve said calmly, “he hasn’t done anything dangerous since he came to me.”

“I’m still pissed at you,” Jim said plainly.

“That’s,” Steve started, “that’s fair, I suppose,” he admitted. “I was planning to talk to him about telling everyone today.”

“It shouldn’t have taken you two weeks to come to that conclusion.”

Steve sighed. “I know, I’m sorry, but look, nothing bad happened.”

“But it could have.” He said firmly.

“And look at him. Other than his appearance, he seems harmless.” Steve gestured to Eddie, who was talking about El’s hair.

“No one is harmless.”

Steve sighed, accepting that Hopper was a lost cause. He pushed himself off the wall and sat on the arm of the couch behind Eddie.

“I had my hair like that in middle school,” Eddie said pushing his hair back slick. “What do you think, should I do it again?”

El laughed and shook her head.

Steve groaned at the thought, remembering the photos from the yearbook. “For the love of god, don’t cut your hair like that ever again.”

Eddie shot Steve a strange look, unsure when he ever saw him with short hair. He turned back to El and smiled. “No?” He released his hair.

“Mike is going to freak out when he sees you.” El watched his hair fall over his shoulders. She missed her own. “He is coming over tomorrow,” she said happily.

“No!” Hopper interjected harshly as he stood upright. He’d entirely forgotten about Mike coming over.

El and Eddie looked over surprised by his sudden interruption.

“No one is coming over, or leaving,” he said firmly.

“But you already said he could,” she argued gripping the back of the couch.

“This changes things.” He pointed sharply at Eddie.

El’s grip on the back of the couch tightened as she got angrier.

“Hey,” Eddie said calmly, tentatively touching her arm. She relaxed and looked at him. “It’s fine. I kind of want to surprise him and the others anyway.” Eddie gave her a light smile.

Her expression softened. “Fine,” she said pettily, turning back to sitting correctly on the couch.

Eddie raised an eyebrow at her, “maybe you could help me?” his smile broadened.

She smirked and turned to him telling him about the time they surprised Dustin when he returned from summer camp. Steve enjoyed watching them, and could even see Hopper’s defenses drop a little. He remembered that they had brought a bunch of Eddie’s stuff over for the memorial. He stood back up and walked to the back of the cabin. Eddie passively watched him peek out through a boarded-up window and into the backyard. Steve saw the tree the shrine was around, the pictures were still on the trunk, but none of the items were under it.

“Hey hopper,” Steve asked turning to him. “What did you do with Eddie’s stuff?” Eddie perked with curiosity. “It had his guitar and tapes.”

Eddie turned onto his knees looking over the back of the couch at them eagerly. “Seriously?” he said excitedly.

“Oh, yeah,” Hopper contemplated. “I donated it,” he said flatly.

“What!?” Eddie yelled with devastation. Steve looked between the two of them, worried. Eddie looked like he was about to start crying again.

El looked at Hopper, confused. “But, Hop, I thought you-”

Hopper glanced at El getting her to stop mid-sentence. Eddie looked at her as a small glimmer of hope welled back up in him. Jim smiled and shook his head as he walked into the kitchen. He climbed up the ladder leading to the loft. Eddie watched with uncertainty as he stepped back down the ladder holding a box. His eyes lit up when he saw the neck of his guitar poking out of the box. “Oh, fuck you, Hop!” he said gleefully as he leaped over the back of the couch, startling El, and ran up to meet him. He carefully pulled out the guitar. “There she is.” Eddie’s smile was wide and warm as he looked over his guitar. “She’s perfect, just how I left her.” Hopper smirked as he set the box on the coffee table and sat in the recliner.

El looked quizzically at Eddie. “Her?”

“Yup,” Eddie ran a finger over the strings getting a quiet strum. “She’s my girl.” Steve was enjoying Eddie’s elation at being reunited with his guitar.

El was confused about how an item could be a ‘girl’. Hopper laughed at her confusion. “Some people like to give personality to sentimental objects like cars, boats, and in Eddie’s case, his guitar.” El still didn’t understand but nodded anyway.

Eddie sat heavily on the couch. He loved his guitar either way, but there was just something about the original vs the Upside Down version. He glanced up at Hopper. “Mind if I?” He gently patted the body of the guitar.

Hopper sighed, “just keep it quiet,” he said defeated.

Eddie beamed as he set the guitar gently on the table next to the box. “Now let’s see how much those little shits actually love me.” He started sifting through the contents of the box. “Sweet,” he said as he pulled his vest out of the box and swung it on over the torn shirt. He turned his attention back to looking through the box. “Ah ha!” he exclaimed, pulling out a speaker slightly larger than his palm. “They do love me!” He flipped the plastic speaker over and opened the back, pulling out a short, thick cord. He looked up at Hopper. “Got any 9-volts?”

“Yeah there should be some batteries in the drawer to the right of the sink,” Hopper said setting his feet on the table.

Eddie excitedly hopped up and ran past Steve into the kitchen, he pulled open the drawer and sifted through the miscellaneous items mixed with various batteries. Finally, he found a 9-volt and shut the drawer quickly, running back to the couch. He sat heavily, bouncing El. Steve smiled softly at Eddie and sat in an armchair, so he could see him more clearly. He liked seeing Eddie back in his vest and being so excited.

Hopper furrowed his brow as he watched Eddie put the battery in the same slot he took the cord out of. “Were you storing a cord in the battery slot?”

Eddie smiled up at him. “It’s easier to find a 9-volt than it is to find a 6mm TRS cable.”

Hopper nodded, unable to fight that logic.

Eddie picked up his guitar and eagerly slung the strap over his back. He plugged the cord into the small speaker, then into his guitar. After a quick adjustment to the knobs on the micro amp, he started gently plucking at the strings, testing the volume, he could tell she was off-tune a little but not enough to matter for his purposes. He reached into the tongue of his boot and pulled out his pick. Hopper squinted at the familiar boots. Eddie ran the pick over the strings as he began to play. He didn’t play any song in particular, but just let his fingers guide the melody. Hopper said to keep it quiet, so he chose to go with a more melodic tune than his usual heavier preference.

Steve was immediately impressed at Eddie’s skill and was transfixed by his peaceful face. Eddie had never looked so at home and content. El watched Eddie’s fingers glide over the strings, fascinated at his precision and the beautiful sounds that came out of the tiny speaker. Eddie kept his eyes closed as he felt the music flow through him, letting his fingers move on instinct. It hadn’t been long since he’d played his guitar, but it felt like forever since he played this guitar. The Upside Down replica, while identical in every way, just felt different than the one he held in his hands. Steve watched with a faint smile, enjoying the sounds and the expression on Eddie’s face. Eddie finished with a pleased sigh and looked over at Steve.

“Holy shit!” Steve exclaimed. Eddie was startled by Steve’s strong reaction. “Your eyes,” he clarified.

“What?” Eddie slid the guitar over his head and set it on the box before running into the bathroom and looking in the mirror. He watched as his eyes flooded back to black.

“What just happened?” Hopper asked Steve, back on edge.

“We don’t know why, but randomly Eddie’s eyes will revert back to normal,” Steve explained, “but it only lasts a few seconds before they go back to black.”

“That was weird,” Eddie said as he walked back into the living room.

“Does it feel like anything?” El asked when he sat back down next to her.

“No, not at all.” He leaned back against the couch.

“Any idea why it happens?” Hopper pressed, leaning forward.

Eddie shook his head. “I haven’t found a correlation yet myself.” He set his guitar back on his lap and started tuning it. He had some ideas why his eyes did it, but due to the circumstances of those instances, he’d rather keep them quiet.

El and Hopper looked at each other with mutual concern before they turned to look back at Eddie.

#TDoH #The Devil of Hawkins #Stranger Things #Steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steve/Eddie #Gay #Fanfic #Fanfiction #AO3 #Mock Season #Canon Continuation #Canon Compliant #Body Horror #Guns #Robin Buckley #Jim Hopper #Eleven #Jane Hopper #El Hopper #Nancy Wheeler #Steve X Eddie #Steve & Robin #Stobin #Platonic Stobin

[potatobananahuman]

Anyone else struggle a lot to verbalize how much you love something (or someone)?

There’s this one fanfiction I really like. It’s my favorite fanfiction of all time. I say that, but it feels really empty, because it doesn’t really express everything I want to say. I leave comments saying “I love this!”, but it still doesn’t really feel like i’m getting my point across.

I love this fanfiction for many reasons. There are the typical reasons, such as enjoying the plot, characterizations, depth and nuance, the writing style, etc. But there are also the more personal reasons, such as the fic singlehandedly giving me my asexual awakening, helping me through an incredibly low point in my life, helping me recognize toxic patterns in my relationships, and generally just having a bunch of really good life lessons in there.

That’s not really something I can put in a comment without sounding creepy. Or maybe it isn’t creepy, but I have crippling social anxiety and would probably panic before being able to say anything at all, and I am probably worrying too much about this stuff, but again, crippling social anxiety. I’m honestly kind of surprised I’m able to post this post in the first place to be honest. I’m unlucky enough to be the one person I know with anxiety whose anxiety also extends to the internet. Joy.

Getting back on topic- I don’t have enough words to say how much I love this thing. Is it weird to like something this much? I don’t know. I don’t think so?

Putting my thoughts into words is difficult for me. I have many thoughts (are they thoughts? are they feelings? I don’t know) but when I write them down they always feel so simplified, void of the weight they had before. I guess this is why I struggle with writing myself. I have too many thoughts. The only way I am successful at writing is when I attempt to write down my train of thought, letting it go on its random tangents, because if I don’t board the train I go nowhere. But sometimes I am too slow at writing to catch the train, and it will have taken off without me. My thoughts run too fast, leaving as soon as I get close to catching them. And sometimes they barely move at all, and I have to physically push them along.

I don’t remember what my point was anymore.

To the person who wrote the fanfiction I was talking about: Thank you. When I decided to pick it up for the first time I didn’t expect to like it. I’d misunderstood some of the tags, and went into it expecting to not enjoy it and click off immediately.

I loved it. There was no deep connection at that time, but I still loved it. I reread the existing chapters as many times as I could that day, and every time a new chapter posted, I would drop everything and read it. The fic was only 4% of the size it is now at that time. Rereading it nowadays is a much larger time commitment, but still one I partake in every one to two months. I love this fic to death.

Thank you for creating this.

I don’t know where I was going with this post, to be honest. This kind of just devolved into a rant. I feel better now though, so I guess it worked? Idk

[waywardsummoner46]

Hey there!

Would you be down to write some needy/ sick druig? We want the whump and the fluff!!!

Little Boy

Pairing: Druig x reader

Summary: Druig’s stubbornness has driven him to illness. He’ll only admit it in a silent way: being needy for your attention. What on earth are you going to do with him?

Warning: None

Word Count: 1187

A/N: What’s this? Two fics in two days? Preposterous! But yeah, I’ve done it and I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

________________________________________________________________

You’d seen it coming for days now. 

  Druig had been losing his focus increasingly the past few days and on top of that his eyes were drooping which clearly meant he was tired. But no! He’s a big old, wise Eternal! How could he ever get tired?

  Well, it wasn’t just that actually. He’d been sniffling and discreetly coughing into his elbow whenever he thought you weren’t paying attention. However you are quietly observant (and he wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was) so you immediately picked up on it.

  Your ignorance was a deliberate choice because you thought it was only logical to force him to swallow his pride and admit he needed to rest or some simple help. Alas, that plan proved futile. 

  He’d taken a turn for the worst when one day you’d woken up and already left your cabin in Druig’s secluded compound only to see no sign of him towards dinner time. On a regular day, he’d have already found you and kissed you more times than you can count. Although, none of that has happened so far and come to think of it, you hadn’t heard him rouse from his sleep when you got up this morning.

  Inhaling deeply, you apologised to the villagers you were working with and went to return to your cabin. 

  On your way back, the villager’s eyes turned bright gold before they seemingly retreated back into their own abode. Shaking your head fondly, you sighed softly before picking up your pace and hurriedly arriving at the cabin.

  When you were stood on the porch of the cabin, the door creaked open but there was no Druig insight but a little boy crept around the door to shyly glance up at you. It would have been cute if not for his glowing golden eyes. You inclined your head to the side and regarded  the boy with some rapid blinks.

  A smile crept across the boy’s face. “You look adorable when you do that.”

  Immediately, you cringed at the squeaky voice saying that and scrunched up your facial features. “Druig, for the love of my sanity, please don’t make a six year old say something like that. It’s weird and creepy.”

  The boy’s eyes returned to their normal colour and he shook his head - presumably trying to shake off Druig’s temporary control. When he composed himself he looked up and his face lit up when seeing you. He ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug to which you both laughed. “Hello, little one,” you uttered.

  “Hiya, (Y/N). Missed you.”

  You chuckled. “I saw you yesterday, you little munchkin.” Pulling away from the hug you pinched his cheeks teasingly. Then you adjusted his clothes and rubbed off a bit of mud from his cheek. “Now, thank you for helping Druig but I’m sure that your mother is worried about you, hm?” you chided. 

  He lowered his head sheepishly and nodded his head. You kissed his forehead and ushered him away. “Take care! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

  Following him with your gaze, you made sure he took the right path through the forest before turning back to the doorway and making your way inside. 

  The sight that greeted you was pitiful to say the least. Druig was still under the covers with a box of tissues by him and countless of them sprawled around him, the curtains were completely drawn so it was very dark in the room and to top it all off he’d stolen your pillow. Pursing your lips, you narrowed your eyes and debated ripping the covers off of him before a head popped up from under the covers. 

  Ultimately, it made you crumble because he just looked so adorable and you never would’ve guessed he was a 7000 year old Eternal if you hadn’t met him. Tilting your head back, you inclined a brow at him and stayed silent. 

  He mirrored your silence for as long as he could before a massive coughing fit assaulted him. You dropped your unamused brow and rushed over to his side to help him sit up. You sat next to him and slowly rubbed his back, coaxing him to get it all up. 

  Once it had subsided, you stroked the hairs from out of his face and gently pushed him back down. “You, mister, are a stubborn ass.”

   He smiled a bit and followed your careful guidance. “Well, beautiful, what can I say? I took after the best,” he said and winked at you. You playfully glared back then got up to leave the room. “Wait, wait, where do you think you’re going?”

  Pausing in the doorway, you answered “To get you something to soothe your throat, you sound like an Irish frog that smoked too many cigarettes.” He began to protest but you’d already left to heat up some soup (with your flame powers but don’t tell Druig that, he doesn’t know and you’d like to keep it that way).

  When you eventually returned, Druig had sat up and was leaning against the headboard with his arms crossed and looking like a petulant child. “Oh, you poor baby.”

  He glared at you but remained silent. You knew he loved your pet names for him but not in that context… so you continued. “Defenseless little boy, all cooped up his blankets like a little darling. Oh you’ve been so good! Such a good little boy, yes you-”

  You were cut off by your sudden urge to join him in the bed. Your posture straightened and - placing the soup on the bedside table - you curled up into the bed next to him. Vaguely, you realised that Druig was controlling your mind but not completely, otherwise that thought wouldn’t even be possible.

  He lay down next to you and tugged you to his chest. “Now look who's the little one, little one. You look adorable curled up next to me like this, you know.” 

  As he gazed down at you lovingly, he relinquished his control over you but you paid it little notice and settled more comfortably down next to him. “I made you soup, you ass.”

  He chuckled in response and kissed your nose. “I’ll have it afterwards.” You grumbled groggily at him. To be honest, you’d had a hard day in the compound; shovelling soil and replanting fruit and veg. Not to mention the huge freaking logs you had to practically move on your own. So it was fair to say you were exhausted.

  You were stubborn like Druig in that regard but oh well.

  Druig raised his hand up to your head and began stroking it slowly. “I swear to god, if I get ill after this I will smite you,” you mumbled. He huffed but said nothing and continued to stroke your hair. 

  His actions were forcing you to get drowsy and so you found yourself drifting off to sleep.

  The last thing you heard before you succumbed to darkness was, “Then I will take care of you just as you have of me, my beautiful, beautiful (Y/N).” And he too, fell asleep.

#druig x reader #druig #eternals #eternals movie #marvel

[sukirichi]

not shy

megumi was not shy around his crush — and that’s a fucking lie.

request: shy megumi who is really flustered around his crush + his friends and gojo-sensei helping him confess

note: this is fluff and a semi crack fic too LOL i hope you guys enjoy this, i had a lot of fun with this one! unedited too, as usual!

word count: 4.5k

masterlist !

playlist made by the lovely @savantsoulfinder​ thank you so much! 

“Yo, Megumi-kun, can you take—” Satoru halted in his steps, following the trail of sight that his dark-haired student seemed to be so enamoured in to not even notice his teacher walk his way. “What are you staring at?” when his gaze landed on you, head thrown back in laughter and slapping Panda’s arm over Yuuji’s joke, Satoru’s eyes beamed even under the blindfold. “Oh? You like Y/N?”

Upon hearing your name, Megumi immediately snapped back to life. He scoffed and turned away from you, scowling to himself with his arms crossed against his chest. “No, I don’t. I don’t like anyone.” So defensive.

“Is that so?” Satoru teased while biting back his laughter, “Guess you won’t mind if I call her then. Hey, Y/N!”

“Gojo-sensei, what’re you doing?!” Megumi grabbed his teacher’s sleeve, whisper-hissing and cursing under his breath when Satoru caught your attention. You waved at them both, skipping until you were getting impossibly closer and closer and closer.

“Well, I don’t want you to carry these all alone. You’re gonna need some help.”

“I’m perfectly fine – h-hi.”

Shit, you were now here. You smiled up at him, hands folded below your bottom before tipping your head to the side, looking under Megumi’s ducked head to see his face. “Hey there, Megumi! Looking cute today,” you winked, causing the poor boy to blush madly. You never noticed, though, your attention now taken by your teacher turning red as he stopped his laughter. “Gojo-sensei! You called me?”

“Oh yeah, you’re just right on time. I was going to ask Megumi here to bring these books all back to my office but it’s probably too heavy for him so I asked—”

“It’s not heavy,” Megumi took the books that Satoru placed in your welcoming arms, the slightest touch sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He pulled away and clutched the books closer to himself at the sudden buzz, narrowing his eyes at his teacher who obviously couldn’t mind his own business. “I can carry it by myself.”

“I still wanna help, and I really don’t mind. Plus, I haven’t talked to you in a long time. I actually kind of feel like you’re avoiding me,” you pouted, and that simple gesture had Megumi feeling like he was sinking deeper into the ground.

He was ready for the whole world to swallow him up.

Satoru took pleasure in Megumi’s reddish ears and clenched jaw, cupping his own jaw with his hands as if to mock. “Aw, Megumi, why would you avoid precious Y/N? Did she do something wrong to you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, if there’s nothing wrong, you two better scoot before you get late to your other class!”

“Alright, see you around, Gojo-sensei!” Shit, why were you such a good girl? Now he was stuck with you, and Megumi huffed while hesitantly sharing the books with him. You walked close enough to him that he caught a slight whiff of your shampoo, the scent clouding over his usually sharp mind. Now, though, Megumi could barely recognize the hallways he walked on, relying only on you to lead the way. “So...how’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How about your studies? We have an exam next week – maybe you want to study together? Inumaki-senpai and I were supposed to have a study group with the others but everyone just wants to study by themselves,” you turned to him with a small smile, “I do better when I’m with someone though.”

Megumi managed to give you a split second glance before he darted his eyes back in front of him again, swallowing audibly because he couldn’t understand why you had to look so pretty smiling like that.

His palms grew sweaty with each passing second, and he grimaced at the uncomfortably feeling of his collar getting sticky. “Uh, wh-where would we study? We don’t have a library or anything.”

“The training grounds is refreshing, but I’d like it to do it better in my room.”

“Do what?” Megumi halted in his steps, his eyes blown wide at your words.

“Study, of course. What else?”

He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be worried that you frowned in confusion, almost as if you didn’t understand the weight of your words. But then again, you’d always been so damn oblivious that it made sense. Megumi shook his head, continuing on to the teacher’s office before remembering he still lost his sense of direction, so he bit his lip, obediently following you around like a puppy.

“You shouldn’t just invite anyone to your room, you know.”

Once you both made it to the empty room, you carefully placed the books down on Satoru’s desk. He raised a brow at the extra detail you put into, tongue peeking out from the edges of your lips as you made sure all of them were placed together neatly.

Satisfied with your work, you clapped your hands and turned to him.

“I’m not. You’re not just anyone to me, Megumi,” Suddenly, you leaned over him, his mind screaming at him when your lips lowered down to his neck. Megumi’s spine stiffened so quick he might as well be a flat board, his chin pressed to his neck when he felt your teeth graze his exposed skin for a moment. “There’s a loose thread,” you showed him a small thread with a small smile, which fell as fast when you saw Megumi standing uncomfortably straight. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to invade your personal space like that!” “I’m a little weird, aren’t I? That would explain why you’ve been avoiding me. Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not that...it’s just...”

“Just what?”

His mind blanked. Ask him anything about curses or their history and pretty much anything – he’d be able to answer – but not this. They didn’t teach this in the books and out of frantic nervousness, Megumi ended up spewing the first thing he could think of, his brows drawn together that only added to his intimidating look.

“I’m just annoyed that you scored higher than me on the previous exam.”

“Oh,” you fell for it, snapping your fingers together as you laughed. Somehow, the sound of your melodious laughter had his shoulders easing from the tension, the smallest of smiles hinting at the edge of his lips. Gosh, he was so whipped for you. “Was that really it? I thought you were avoiding me for something serious! Well, how about this, let’s study together and let’s see who’s the smarter one. The loser will get tickled to death!”

“I haven’t even agreed to that condition yet.”

“Okay, what do you want if you win?”

Megumi blushed as he blurted out, “You.”

Before he could regret what he just said, you scrunched your nose and pointed to yourself. “Me what? You want me to do something? You want me to buy you ice cream or—”

“Never mind,” he mumbled behind his palm that was now covering his mouth, refusing to show you that he actually wanted to laugh at how naive you could be. Not that he was complaining; it saved him great pain that you could never know his feelings for you. “I’ll ask for it when I’m sure I’ll win.”

“Ah, not a man of uncalculated risks, I see,” you ruffled his hair, the poor boy stiffening up again under your touch. “This is why I like you so much. You’re so thoughtful.”

“Please don’t touch my hair.”

Megumi was complaining, his shoulders raised beside his ears while he scowled at you, but the way a small, almost inaudible purr left his lips said otherwise. He didn’t want you touching his hair – only because he was shy and it would be the death of him if you saw how easily flustered he was around you.

Thankfully, you showered mercy upon him, raising your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, we should go back to class now.”

Megumi sighed in relief, content for now to walk you all the way back to class as you talked about your day. He wasn’t actually listening, but a stupid smile was there on his face, anyway. He likened the sound of your voice to those of birds chirping and sunshine waking – and he felt like he was the fresh earth you always kissed.

“You’re going to burn a hole in her if you keep staring at her like that.”

“Shut up,” Megumi averted his eyes away from you, stabbing his yogurt with his plastic fork. A part of him felt annoyed that you just had to look so pretty today, your bright voice filling in the cafeteria that put his constant sour mood to shame. The stark difference between you two made Megumi sigh in his seat, abandoning his fork as he leaned back. There was no way you’d like him back. “I wasn’t looking at anyone.”

“Ugh, why are boys so creepy? Staring at Y/N like that, ew.”

Yuuji ignored Nobara’s comment, and for once, Megumi let it slide when Nobara stealed his untouched yogurt. “Why don’t you just tell her you like her? She’s literally the sweetest person ever – the chances of her turning you down are low!”

Nobara snorted, “Yeah, but if the sweetest girl in school rejects you, that’s really humiliating. That would mean she likes everyone but you.”

Satoru popped out of nowhere – that stupid blindfolded bastard who started all this – his arms looped around Yuuji’s neck whose entire face illuminated at having his favourite teacher around. “I think the scary-looking Megumi-chan is actually just too shy to be confess,” he wiggled his eyebrows, pointing a finger fun to Megumi’s deadly narrowed gaze. “Can you believe it? My dark, brooding student is hopelessly in love with the cute, sunshine girl next door that he’s so scared around her? Isn’t that so adorable—”

“Everyone shut up!” he hissed through gritted teeth, “I’m not scared of anyone or anything.”

“Then tell her you like her.”

“Fine, I will.”

“I bet you ten dollars he won’t do it,” Satoru whispered, the two students who shared one brain cell beside him nodding eagerly.

“I said I will!”

“Good morning, Megumi! Come in, come in,” you ushered him in once he stood frozen at your door, his hands now awkwardly clutching his own notes. “You can take a seat on the bed.”

Megumi wasn’t nervous of the fact this was his first time visiting a girl’s room, but rather because it was yours, and each part of your room resembled you greatly. From the organized and clean space, but the noticeable adorable little trinkets and polaroids of you with everyone sticking on the wall, he could feel your entire soul living in that room. When his eyes landed on an old photo of you holding up the peace sign and noticed for the first time he was standing in the background, unaware he was captured in the frame, Megumi inhaled sharply.

Had you pretended to take a selfie just to see him there?

No, he shook his head, there was just no way. He really couldn’t ponder about it long enough because you’d dragged him by the sleeve until he was sitting right next to you, the fresh scent of your body wash making him feel stunningly warm inside his clothes even when the windows were open.

The whole time, Megumi couldn’t absorb a single thing you were saying.

He was just too distracted by everything about you – the way your lips moved when you spoke, how you’d tuck back a stray hair behind your ear, even to the way your mouth would form an ‘o’ shape as you learned something new. No, he couldn’t focus at all.

Megumi has lost count of the times he’d wiped his shaky, sweaty palms on the pads of his sweatpants, hitching his breath every time you leaned close to him to glance at his notes.

At this rate, he’d be the loser in your little competition. It was just impossible for him to focus on anything else.

“Megumi?” you waved your hands in front of him. When it wasn’t enough to get his attention, you resorted to flicking his forehead and he yelped, rubbing at the sore spot. He faced you, a complaint ready to be spoken when his eyes widened at the sudden lack of proximity, your nose booping against his. “Hello, Megumi? I’ve asked you the same question twice now and you haven’t answered yet.”

As nicely as he could, he pushed your face away, his heart thumping loudly when you laughed as you went back to your own space. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I wasn’t really listening.”

“Yeah, I can tell, you were just staring at me the whole time,” you held your phone up in front of your face, checking your reflection on the screen on different angles. He watched, enchanted by how gorgeous you looked no matter what side. “Is there something on my face...? I’ve been checking non-stop and I don’t see anything weird.”

Megumi swallowed nervously, “There’s nothing wrong with your face. I just can’t focus. You’re too close and I-I can smell you.”

“Do I smell bad?!”

“No, you don’t! You smell really sweet!”

“Aw, thanks! You smell sexy too,” you winked at him, wiggling your shoulders as if to share your scent with him. Megumi’s eyes widened when your shoulder rubbed against his, and he recoiled, arm placed over his nose to hide his emotions that were a train wreck right now.

“Sexy?” he spluttered, “Why would you say – me – sexy? You’re so weird, Y/N. You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”

You patted his thigh in a manner that should be comforting, but the teasing smile on your face only had him wanting to jump out the window even more. Then, you stood up and stretched the material of your shirt riding up until he caught sight of your navel. Megumi turned away and closed his eyes, cheeks trapped between his teeth. “We should take a break. Treat’s on me – where do you want to go?”

“Err,” he scratched the back of his head.

“Oh, don’t look too worried, it’s a weekend. Plus, Gojo-Sensei isn’t around to bother us or something.”

“You...you want to go out...” he drawled out slowly, tentatively, surely – just to make sure that he was hearing it right. “...with me?”

“Yeah, I did just ask where you want to go.”

“Oh,” Megumi nodded with a blank face. Then, your words sank in, and he folded his knees to his chest to hide his face and his sickly sweet smile, the butterflies in his stomach progressing into a fucking zoo. “Oh.”

“Are you sick? You’re so red,” your palm connected with his heated forehead, “Megumi, you’re burning! Should I take you to Ieri-san?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he pushed your hand away, still repudiating to look you in the eye. He just couldn’t, not when you were too inquisitive and he could easily give a dead clue before he got the chance to properly confess. “I mean, I don’t really have a certain place in mind. I’ll go wherever you want to go.”

He should’ve noticed it then – the mischievous glint in your eye that told him you weren’t up to no good. But because his knees always weakened around you, Megumi agreed way too eagerly than he’d like. “Just make sure you don’t regret it, okay? There’s something I’ve always been wanting to try but I never got the chance to and no one wanted to go with me, so you’ll be my willing victim!” And so, half an hour later, Megumi’s jaw dropped as the chill of the arena nipped at his skin. You didn’t even tell him to bring a jacket. “Ta-da!”

“Ice skating?”

You nodded happily, dragging him all the way to the shoe fittings. “It’s going to be fun, come on!”

“But I don’t know how to.”

“Neither do I!” Megumi wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know how to. No matter how much he tried so hard to learn, he just couldn’t balance himself. The sound of your laughter that let him know you enjoyed this way too much reached his ears as he glared at the ice, his ears red either from the cold or the humiliation of being an utter failure in front of you, of all people! “Need some help there, buddy?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. And no, I can do this by myself.”

You masked your chuckle with a snicker, squatting to watch as he struggled to heave himself up back to his feet. “Really? You’ve fallen like, a hundred times now.”

“Shut up. Humans aren’t naturally supposed to do this anyway. We don’t have a human instinct to be upright – whoa!” Megumi slipped again from the ice, this time knocking you down with him. Instead of it being romantic where you two ended up gazing at each other with love in your eyes, your eyes widened into saucers as his elbow landed into your belly, crushing the wind out of your body.

“Ow!”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to – ugh, this is why I said it was a bad idea!”

All the way back home, Megumi was still entirely convinced it was a bad idea. You were limping beside him, having to use his bicep as a crutch with your head resting on his shoulder. You and your stupid ideas, really, now you were injured and sprained your ankle from the fall. Instead of worrying about your own safety, you only slapped your knee in laughter as the medics fixed you up, still in disbelief that Megumi had fallen a lot of times yet came out unscathed.

“Megumi~ are you still mad at me? Why won’t you talk to me?” you pouted, squeezing his bicep to get his attention.

“It’s because I told you it was dangerous. Look at you – your knees are all scraped and your legs are all wobbly. We’ve still got a long way back home.”

“Maybe you should carry me then.”

“C-carry you?”

“Yeah, so I don’t fall,” you snorted, pointing to your shoeless ankle covered in bandages. “I mean, it was your fault I’m injured. If you hadn’t fallen for me, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

Fallen for you? Did you know that he – ? Megumi’s head snapped to yours so hard he nearly had whiplash, but the only thing he could focus on was the pounding of drums within his chest. “F-fall? How did you know?”

“Megumi, you literally fell on top of me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten already.”

That had him blinking back, his face flattening into a blank expression. Then, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stopped in his tracks. “Sometimes I forget you’re terribly naive.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Now get on,” With burning cheeks and a heart that fluttered way too much than what was considered healthy, Megumi squatted down to the ground, patting his back with a groan. You less than jumped into his arms, a little too excited to get a piggyback ride and Megumi expressed his faux distress with a groan. You only pinched his ear and told him to pay you back for your injuries, which made him complain again.

In the end, he was just happy you couldn’t see how much he struggled to hide his smile then, for if you saw it, you’d surely believe he was crazy.

Or so he thought. By the time you’d gotten back to the dorms, you were long passed out on his back. There was a small patch of drool on the back of his shirt and he shuddered, then wiped it away by whispering to himself, it’s okay – as long as it’s you.

Padding back to the dorms wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be, considering everyone was almost asleep or out to the city as well.

Megumi gently laid you down on the bed, wrapping the blanket around you and making sure your head was comfortable on the pillow. He stayed there for a solid minute, just staring and memorizing your pretty features until he felt confident he could draw it upon memory. Not wanting to be creepy though, he cleared his throat, about to leave the room when your fingers tugged at his wrist.

“Megumi,” you moaned sleepily, “Don’t go. It’s too cold.”

“I’ll get you another blanket.”

“No, stay,” you whined, patting the space next to you. “Please?”

“To sleep here with you?” he asked, baffled and at the same time elated. The last thing he wanted to be was a pervert and he’d never outright admit that his thoughts of you hadn’t always been giggles and rainbows, but he pushed those down, reminding himself that this is you – he respected you above all else. His self restraint slowly thinned though, whatnot with you pouting up at him like that.

Megumi groaned and took off his shoes anyway, planting himself beside you. “This is insane. I think I’m losing my mind,” he muttered to himself. “Move over and make space for me,” you obediently followed his command, using his bicep as a pillow while your cheek squished against his chest. He wondered how you weren’t bothered by his heart’s beating, or maybe it soothed you to sleep because you were falling deeper and deeper asleep, burying yourself in his arms. “God, this is so uncomfortable. I feel like I’m crushing you—”

“So warm,” you cut him off, his mind turning completely mental as he felt your lips pad over his chin. “Goodnight, Megumi.”

How did you expect him to sleep now?

But as soon as you’d settled and only your stabled breathing could be heard from the room, Megumi’s eyes began to droop as well, and it didn’t take long before his arms relaxed around you, lazily pulling the covers up to cover the both of you.

He’ll tell you another time.

“MEGUMI!” you pushed through everyone and showed him your paper, the bold red mark of 100 glaring back at him. Before he could respond, you stole his test paper from him, laughing at the sad 98 that showed. “Ah, I won!” In the blink of an eye, you’d tackled him to the ground, your knees keeping his legs locked underneath you, test papers flying around the field. Your hands were relentless and brutal as it ran and poked up his sides, eliciting squeaky little gasps from him.

“Stop, stop!” Megumi doubled over in laughter, keeping his feet flat on the ground to prevent himself from accidentally kneeing you. He’d hurt you enough during the ice skating dilemma – he didn’t want to cause you anymore injuries. “No, stop!”

“I won, Megumi, I won! Face the tickle monster!”

“I said stop or else!” he warned, completely aware that he wasn’t as threatening or serious as he wanted to be when tears leaked from his eyes, his laughter embarrassingly giggly and high pitched.

“Or what, loser?”

“I’ll kiss you until you shut up!”

“That’s adorable, but let’s see you try!” you kept tickling his sides, the both of you completely oblivious that the rest of your classmates – your teacher who was more than supportive of this pairing included – were hiding behind a bush, their phones whipped out to capture each second of this moment. “Loser!”

As you mocked him one more time that you wouldn’t stop tickling “losers,” Megumi had to draw the line. Using all his strength, he flipped you over until you were underneath him, the sheer force of the impact keeping you nestled between his arms.

Both of you were panting, but this time his breath was taken away from how beautiful you looked under him like that. Such innocent eyes staring back up at him, but don’t think for a moment he didn’t notice how your eyes trailed over his lips. He knew – because he was doing the same, his grip subconsciously gripping harder at your wrists. If he leaned down...

“This is taking too long!” someone whined from behind the bushes, tips of white hair peaking from the plant. “Just kiss her already!”

Both of you turned at the source of the voice, simultaneously shouting, “Gojo-sensei?!”

“Don’t be shy, Megumi-kun! Just tell her already or I’ll tell her myself.”

“Tell me what?”

Now that your face was peering up at him, he knew he was trapped. Cornered. Megumi closed his eyes, hands trembling and losing their grip around you as he was confronted by the situation. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,” he fumbled over his words, “But I...I actually—”

“Boring! What kind of confession is this? Say it louder and clearer or she won’t be impressed! Is that how a man does it, Megumi-kun? You can do better—”

“All of you, shut the fuck up!” he roared to his peers who only cackled around the bushes, Yuuji and Gojo-sensei doubling over in laughter while Toge bit his collar to stop the gleeful sounds leaving his mouth. Irritation and humiliation bubbling up in his chest, Megumi finally found the courage to confess. “I like you, okay? I’ve always had a crush—”

You sat up to wrap your arms around his neck, silencing him with a sloppy kiss. At first, your lips kissed the edges of his mouth before Megumi groaned, his large hand clasping the back of your neck to guide you to where he wanted you to be. Smiling through the kiss, you pulled away, rubbing your nose on him affectionately. “Me too, Megumi,” you giggled, “I like you too. Actually, no, I fell in love the moment you almost broke your nose on the ice—” he cut you off by kissing you again, his grip on your waist threatening, “Hey, no fair, I was still confessing!”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ll kiss you to make you shut up,” his confidence had now risen up, all traces of the shy Megumi now gone. “Now tell me that again. Tell me you like me.”

“Okay, but can I get another kiss?”

“You’ll be spoiled rotten.”

“I think I deserve it, don’t you think? I’m pretty cute – you’re lucky you get to kiss—” Megumi tugged you by your collar to slam your lips on his, his teeth nibbling at your lower lip. You tugged at his hair playfully and laughed, slapping his shoulder gently to tap out. “Fine, fine. I like you too!”

“Say it again. Please.”

“Not so shy now, eh, Megumi?” Satoru teased for the final time, and Megumi was so close to bursting a vein in his neck when his teacher showed up from the bushes, sexily posing on the grass as he winked at the both of you.

“SHUT UP!”

#fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader imagines #megumi x reader imagines #fushiguro megumi x reader romance #fushiguro megumi x reader fluff #megumi x reader romance #megumi x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen romance #jujutsu kaisen x you #fushiguro megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen crack #jujutsu kaisen comedy #suki: 500 milestone event

[specialagentlokitty]

Avengers x reader - No danger

Hi, so imagine if the reader has the ability to control the elements of the Earth and there's a teeny problem: The reader is also a really famous author or a famous person, she's constantly being bombarded by people and she's never really alone. How would the avengers try to recruit her? I sincerely hope they won't actually kidnap her like in the dead middle of the night, but why do I have the feeling that they will lol? Oh, and I love you work, the fact that you keep posting so regularly is admirable. Your writing is immaculate and perfect as well, seriously best writer award goes to you. 🏆👑 You dropped these 😌 - Anon 💜

Sitting at the table you smiled brightly at the pair that approached you.

“Hey there!” You beamed.

“Hi! We’re such big fans of yours! We made this for you!”

One of the girls handed a bit of paper over and you read it carefully, once you were finished you set it down, looking up to them to see the anxiously waiting a response.

“It’s.. a song we wrote…” the other whispered.

You hummed and nodded, carefully folding it you set it in your bag.

“And what’s your names?”

“Maze and Kayla!” Maze beamed.

“Well then, I hope you enjoy the next song to come.” You winked.

Signing a few things for them, you let them take them before running off with huge smiles on their faces.

You’d been at it all day, meeting people and signing things for you, so it didn’t take you long to notice the group trying and failing to hide themselves in the distance.

You knew they were lurking, though you weren’t sure why.

Since they were all huddled together it was hard to figure out who they were, but it was starting to get a little creepy. They’d been stood there for nearly an hour.

Holding your hand up, you have your fans a bright smile and stood up, walking over to your guards.

“Everything okay?” One asked.

“You see the group of people by the escalators?”

“Yes, we’ve been keeping an eye on them.”

“Can you get them to possibly move, I’m worried people are going to start getting uncomfortable.”

The small group nodded and split in half. Half stayed with you and half went to tell the weird group to leave.

They seemed to go willingly and you happily carried on meeting your fans.

When the meet and greet ended, you got up and headed to grab some food.

Once you had eaten, you were driven home and you padded into your apartment.

“Hey Kai!” You called.

The man in the kitchen turned around and smile, taking a sip of his coffee he offered you a cup.

“Please, why are you here?”

“The others were worried about the group, so I’m staying with you.”

You gave a shrug, you were used to this.

When your guards were worried about your safety, they got Kai to stay with you. He usually came with you on tours and did his own thing when he was free.

But if they felt there may be a threat towards you, they made sure he was with you.

“Sure you know where the guest room is, I’m dead so I’m off to bed.” You yawned.

Downing your coffee, you got ready for bed then crawled under the covers with a happy sigh.

You were exhausted, you had been up for hours and all over the city, so thankfully sleep came easily to you.

You were that exhausted you didn’t wake up for anything, not when Kai came to check up on you, not when a storm rolled in.

You were completely out of it, when you woke up, you realised you weren’t in your bedroom and panicked.

“Kai?!”

You watched the door open, and you quickly jumped up, fire circling your fists as you stared down the man who entered.

“Please calm down, we don’t want to hurt you.”

He flicked the light on and you immediately recognised him as Dr Banner, and behind him was Steve Rogers.

“You kidnap me then say you don’t want to hurt me?” You scoffed.

“We just wanted to talk. We tried but couldn’t find the time.” Steve replied.

You blinked, and realisation hit you.

“You were the ones standing by the escalators.”

He nodded with a small smile and raised his hands showing you he had nothing in them as he took a step closer.

“Yes, we just wanted to talk about you joining the avengers.”

You rolled your eyes and put the fire out, placing your hands on your hips as you rose a brow at him.

“You really think after kidnapping me I’m going to join you?”

“In our defence that wasn’t our plan.” Bruce smiled sheepish.

“It was mine.” Tony said, smirking as he came in.

You rolled your eyes.

“Ah yea, the infamous Tony stark. Of course this was your plan.”

“Well, I did try getting you to come here but you never responded to the invites.” He shrugged.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and shook your head.

“I’m very happy in life and don’t want to join your little band of misfits.”

Heading to the window you opened it and sat on the edge.

“I’m no danger to anyone, and I can control my power if that’s what you’re worried about. Please don’t kidnap me next time thanks.”

Throwing yourself backwards, you free-fell from the building, using the air to cushion your fall you landed softly on the ground.

Some people have you a strange look but went back to what they were doing.

You stuffed your hands into your pockets and started to wonder the streets, you knew everyone would find you eventually but you decided to take the time to wonder around.

The avengers just kidnapped you and you found that amusing and you knew for a fact they would definitely try again

#marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel #avengers #avengers x you #avengers x reader #avengers imagine

[scuttling]

Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

[kira-fluff]

Heeey!

Saeyoung, Yoosung, Jumin and Zen reacting to to “hotel only one bed” trope ? ♥️

a/n: of course you can lovely! <3 *AHEM* Lemme just say this trope is ELITE and I will NEVER not love it // also, i’m writing it like it’s before they’re dating (OF COURSE) because I want it to be spicy (actually that’s the only thing that would make sense for this prompt but you get my point whatever). ALSO also I’m basing the fancy hotel off my stay at the Ritz Carlton (it was like $25,000 a night) because my grandma couldn’t manage money N E WAYSS. Also, if y’all could let me know whether you prefer Y/N to MC pls lmk k thx 

TW: drunk old lady w/no filter, gets pretty suggestive because I couldn’t help myself, an overbearing aunt, savage Italians, and loud hotel neighbor 

Note: omfg i accidentally made this so long oh well here’s yo present lmao 

“There’s only one bed” PT.1 PT.2

- 

Saeyoung 

Getaway missions are mad cool until you can’t sleep 

When you finally neared the parking entrance to your hotel you were SO looking forward to taking a nice hot shower before shimming into the covers of your crisp, (clean, you hoped) sheets. 

It was past 3AM when Saeyoung finally drove his elegant vehicular device (because what other word is there for it) into a secured parking space 

“Because I don’t trust those shady valets, y/n.” 

“Whatever you say, Seven”, you replied groggily. 

You hauled ass up to the front desk, then to the elevator of the exquisite hotel you were staying at

not that you cared 

because S L E E P 

but Saeyoung likes to quote Jurassic Park (because of course he does) like “I spare no expense, y/n” 

“I’m too tired to laugh” 

*gASP* 

“Not everyone naturally stays up until the early morning light before going to sleep.” 

“It really should become a thing, it’s honestly very iconic of me.” (it’s not)

By the time your conversation ended you were glad to see your hotel number and a little key card slot. 

Saeyoung made a show of sticking the key card in like a spy or something 

it was funny for normal y/n but not for tired y/n 

“Here’s your room, M’lady.” 

He held the door open to your room as you looked around the room 

a large, lush bed set before a ginormous flat screen TV with complimentary expensive chocolates laid before you as well as complimentary take-home elegant towels and slippers. 

suddenly, you heard a knock on the door 

blinking in confusion, you opened to see it was Saeyoung 

“Um.. hey! What’s up?” 

Saeyoung looked a bit bewildered himself before saying, 

“Hey, so, I realized my key card was the same room number as yours and I was like ‘That’s weird!’ so I called the front desk who verified that I had placed a reservation for one room, not two, so I hacked into their system to see what went wrong and if I could change it but it looks like they’re completely booked and I think I had made the reservation before I knew that you had to come along and I’m so sorry” 

he was breathless after the mouthful he just gave you 

As it was 3AM a drunk, old woman was tripping her way to her room and shouted much louder than she should at 3AM, “Kiss her already n’ fuck, ya youngin’s!” 

Saeyoung’s hair now matched his face :) 

His ears were tipped bright red before coughing awkwardly 

“I can sleep on the ground. I’ve done it plenty of times, it’s actually pretty comfy.” 

“Um, Sev’ I’m not going to make you just sleep on the floor. If you want--” 

“You’re not making me, y/n, I want to do this” 

“Actually I think I’ll sleep on the floor, I sleep a lot better on the ground”, you fibbed. 

“You’re sleeping on that big ass bed.” 

“No you are.” 

“If you don’t listen I’ll sleep in the bath tub instead of the floor.” 

“Then I’LL sleep outside the room!” 

“LIKE HELL YOU WILL!” 

“WATCH ME” 

the phone rang, a worker politely asking you to quiet a bit down because even with your luxurious privacy walls, guests could still hear you arguing. 

Saeyoung began whisper shouting, “Guess that settles it.” 

he plopped on the ground, fake snoring with his arm as a pillow

you sighed 

“Fine, if neither of us are going to agree to this then we are both going to sleep in this bed.” 

Saeyoung blushed lightly at your boldness, a tad worried you’d find him creepy or weird

You started again, beginning to undress a little, causing Seven to yelp in panic and turn around immediately, shielding his eyes,

Now in your tank top and your leggings you’d been wearing under sweatpants and a t-shirt, you said, “I’m gonna go take a quick shower and go to bed. I’m so tired.” 

Seven turned around only when he’d heard the bathroom door shut 

he sighed, What am I going to do with this girl. 

By the time you’d come out of the bathroom, drying your wet hair, Seven was lying on the bed, clad in casual t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come on, Saeyoung, you have comfy clothes! It’s okay, change! I’m done in the bathroom now.” 

“Nah, this is fine.” This was not fine. Saeyoung was out of his area of expertise of expecting the unexpected because God you were so unpredictable. 

“Please” you jutted out your bottom lip in a little pout, being sure to make eye contact with him 

Something glowered in his eyes for a split second before he half-smiled saying, “Ah, little Y/n, you know I can’t say no to you when you go all sad on me.” 

He stepped into the bathroom to change, but let’s be honest. He was freaking the fuck out. 

he covered his flushed face, changing into his soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt. he was scared 

the more comfortable he became the more likely he’d accidentally get closer to you and then you’d freak out because you’d hear the sound of his heart beat like it’s a fucking rave concert and then you’d be weirded forever and quite possibly never talk to him again

but on the outside, he stepped out of the bathroom, whipping his phone out with a huge smirk saying, “Smile” 

you threw up a peace sign with your tongue sticking out 

he laughed before sending it to the RFA chat 

707: Sleepover lolol [see attachment]

immediately both your phones blew up with buzzes of notifications from the chat 

you laughed lightly, brushing a stray hair from your face to tuck it behind your ear 

this was gonna be a long night for Seven. 

Zen: UGH get away from her!!!!!!!!!111!!1!!

Jumin: Maybe you should learn to type first. 

Zen: shut it cat freak

Zen: seven answer 

Zen: hey 

Zen: y/n, text “qwerty” if you’re in any kind of danger 

Jumin: What a strange code. 

You: qwerty :(

707: lololololol

Zen: !!!!!

Zen: ASJDHKJFASHFKJA 

Jumin: -_- 

Zen: WE NEED A CAR, NO A HELICOPTER im omw!! 

You: just kidding <3 i’m fine you guys 

707: lololol 

Jumin: Have a bit more faith in your subordinates, Zen. 

You closed the chat and muted your phone, expecting the incoming argument that was quickly to ensue. 

You patted the bed lightly, ushering Saeyoung to lie down next to you. 

He obliged, though he politely laid at the far edge of the left side of the bed. 

You yawned before shutting the light off and whispering a “good night”. 

Saeyoung glanced at the clock. 4AM. Only 15 minutes had passed. You were breathing softly in your sleep within the 10 minutes after you’d said goodnight and here he was still awake. 

You suddenly tousled in your sleep, and Saeyoung raised his head, whispering a soft, “Did I wake you up?” 

You replied with a soft moan before abruptly turning left onto his corner of the bed and grabbing for the first thing you’d felt -- his torso. 

Saeyoung’s breath hitched as he felt you exploring the new found “object”, running your fingers up and down his torso and nearing dangerous areas below 

Saeyoung whisper-shouted, “What are you doing?” 

He leaned closer to hear your reply, but your only answer was more soft little snores 

Saeyoung sighed, trying to lightly grab your wrists without waking you up, and directing toward yourself

no matter how hard he’d try, your arms kept finding his own

your nails would softly ghost over his chest or neck, causing him to shiver and blush profusely 

again, he sighed, trying his hardest not to give into your sleepy state 

until you broke him with a soft utterance, “Sae....young..” 

Saeyoung’s eyes widened to the size of saucers before he dared to look down at you, your hair curling on the bed every which-way.. your mouth slightly agap... 

he groaned, his brows furrowed and his eyes shut

at last he slunk his arms around your torso, being sure to respectfully keep them high around your waist 

he buried his face in the crook of your neck to subconsciously try to hide his ever growing blush (and erection) 

I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this ‘friend’ thing when you’re driving me this crazy, y/n.

You awoke to a sleeping Saeyoung, his toned arms enveloping your small body in a hug

shamelessly, you laid still for a few moments longer. 

Yoosung 

this bean is lonely uwu

so when he’d invited to you go with him on a trip his uncle had paid for, you felt bad saying “yes” because it’s a paid trip!! 

until he begged you because his cousin Chaewon would be there and he was always really pushy and borderline a huge fuck boi 

so you conceded 

but hey free trip for the both of you minus shitty family gatherings with no one you know, right?! 

you hope there’s at least one dog. and alcohol. 

dog + alcohol at a party = an actual fun fucking time 

you were glad Yoosung was there with you because he honestly couldn’t agree with you more 

You opened your beach-side resort room to find there’s only one bed. 

Yoosung blanched and quickly dialed his auntie, who’d made the resort reservations

“Ah...hi auntie! Um, how come there isn’t a separate room for me and y/n?” 

his aunt cackled into the phone, “Aren’t you an old fashioned little gentlemen!!! Awe~~~ you’ve grown up to be such a good boy! <3 Well don’t worry, I won’t say a word to my sister or your pops. Enjoy the time you have with your adorable girlfriend and get it on a little!! I’ve got condoms if ya need ‘em honey~~ Remember dearie, when the shlong is not covered, the child support better be.” 

Yoosung hurriedly hung up the phone, his face completely red, praying you hadn’t heard the conversation that’d just ensued. 

You did 

but you smile and say, “So.. what’d they say?” 

He cleared his throat before saying, “Well, --err.. Basically there’s been a little mishap. B-but don’t worry!! I can just ask Chaewon if I can spend the night in his room.” 

“Didn’t you say he leaves a sock on the door handle every time--”

“YES but I want you to be comfortable, okay! It’s really not a big deal.” 

You shyly smiled while looking down before softly saying, “You can sleep with me.” 

Yoosung’s eyes widened and you quickly looked up, your face flushing to a deep crimson 

“I-I-I meant in the bed!!! With me. We can lie together. In the bed---- I mean we--” 

Yoosung could practically see the steam coming out of your ears and the room felt a LOT hotter 

“S-sure! Sounds great.” he had a feeling if you didn’t agree you’d end up embarrassing yourself further.. and he didn’t want you to feel bad. And he didn’t want those thoughts circulating his mind again. 

“Alright, so I’m going to hop in the shower, y/n... unless you want to go first?”

Gulping down some complimentary water you’d found in the hotel mini fridge, you quickly replied with a shake of your head. 

Nodding, Yoosung make quick work of washing his hair and trying to give himself a pep talk before he would be sleeping next to you. 

Thankful for the big size of the resort bed, you climbed under the covers, already beginning to feel sleep take you 

When Yoosung had at last dried himself off and walked out to the bed area of the resort room, he gazed at how small you looked, hugging a soft pillow in your arms, your eyes fluttered shut 

He looked away, feeling like a creep. 

He shut off the light after making a call to the resort staff to wake him up at 8AM as directed by his uncle’s itinerary

He slid under the covers, shoving a pillow in between the two of you as a little border to separate the two of you 

it wasn’t until further in the night when Yoosung had felt a jolt and he looked up in panic, through the blackness recognizing the pillow-border had been cast onto the ground 

and even more noticeably, your leg was swung over his hip, your body flush to his own 

your arms were snaked around his neck

he felt like he could feel every inch of you

your soft breath just below his ear 

your soft .. er.. chest... against his torso 

your stomach and .. the rest of it... against his own 

Yoosung could not breathe

like someone actually help this man for he is losing oxygen by the minute 

He squeezed his eyes shut and make the executive decision to wait it out til morning 

he was terrified that if he’d move you, you’d wake up and see just how much you affect him. 

And so, when the phone rang that morning, you’d startled, looking up to see your tangled limbs lying on top of his own

“oH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY YOOSUNG UGH IT’S A HABIT OF MINE AHAHHSAHDAJSHS” 

he looked at you with eyes that had noticeable circles under them (darker than even after his LOLOL gaming) 

“you look like you didn’t sleep much.... --- Is it because of me!? Oh my god I’m so sorry you should’ve just shoved me off or something seriously I didn’t mean to do it on purpose, honest!!” 

“N-no, no it’s really not!! I promise!!” He tried his best to grin, though it probably looked like a grimace, because the next thing you said was, “I’ll make it up to you” 

“You don’t need to do that. Really, I liked it.” 

It took a moment for him to realize what he just said. 

“I-I mean I like you! I mean I liked sleeping with you!!! I mean--!!” 

Yoosung was quickly spinning circles in his mind 

you couldn’t help the little giggle that came out of your mouth, “I guess we’re pretty similar, huh?” 

Yoosung smiled lightly, “Yeah, guess so.” 

You walked out together toward the breakfast area of the resort

“Hey”, you started, “Is.. Did you mean what you said? About liking me?” 

Yoosung glanced away, taking a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, yeah I did. I really like you.” 

You couldn’t hold back the big ol’ smile that took over your face as you proudly declared, “Me too!!” 

Right when Yoosung was going to go in for a kiss, he saw his auntie suddenly right next to the both of you 

“Oh my GOD when did you get here?!” 

She smirked, “My question first, dearie, what did you two like?” 

Neither of you answered, your cheeks growing red 

“You know, the first time your uncle did it with me I felt the same way. Like, what a man! Must run in the fam--” 

“OKAY! THANK YOU FOR THAT AUNTIE BUT BREAKFAST IS CALLING MY NAME MM SMELLS GOOD SEE YOU LATER.” 

Your blush didn’t leave you as you smeared strawberry cream cheese on your toasted bagel 

This trip was going to be very VERY difficult. Thank God there was alcohol. And Yoosung. And probably dogs. And Yoosung. 

Yeah. 

Gotta love relatives. 

Jumin 

You received a call from a stern voice you didn’t recognize

<<“Hello. This is Mr. Han’s chauffeur. I’m approximately 6.3 miles away from your residence. Do not worry about clothes or other necessities. All will be provided for you.��>>

“Uh.. thanks? Where....?” 

<<“Mr. Han has invited you to join him on his stay at the Ppalgan Vineyard Estates. Have you not received the notification?”>>

You glanced at your phone, seeing two unread messages on your phone. 

You read them, feeling bad you hadn’t seen them before. 

“Yes, yes of course. Thank you. Tell him I said thank you. Are you sure it’s okay for me to attend?” 

<<“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Han gave me specific instructions to assure you would be able to come with him. I have been ordered to give 2 minute updates following your being picked up. I can assure you, it is his utmost wish that you join him this weekend. I’d be honored to thank him on your behalf, though I feel it would mean much more to him if you said it to him rather than me.” >>

“You’re right, thank you. And thanks for driving me. And for all the other stuff you said”, you replied nervously. 

<<”There is no need to thank me, Miss. I am glad to serve Mr. Han in anyway I can.”>>

The call hung up before you could spout out more thank yous 

you phone buzzed, startling you. 

you clicked the notification

<<(XXX-XXX-XXXX HAN COMPANIES) I’ve arrived at your residence. Let me know if there is anything I can carry for you. Sent 13:52>>

You quickly texted a reply of gratitude before rushing down the stairs out of your apartment, not wanting to make Jumin’s chauffeur wait. 

“Good to see you Miss Y/L/N. Is there anything I can get you? I have been given orders to purchase anything you may want or need on our way to the airport.” 

He quickly texted something on his phone, presumably a text to Jumin about your safe arrival to his limo.

“A-airport? You mean, like, flying? Are you sure I don’t need my wallet? It’s not too late for me to go grab it, right? I have my debit card on my phone too, otherwise.” 

“Miss Y/L/N you are not to spent a single won on this vacation. All is paid for.” 

“But my clothes... I don’t want Jumin to have to pay for all new things!!” 

"I assure you, money is not something Mr. Han wishes for you to be concerned with.” 

You’d stayed silent at that, feeling bad that you’d already bothered the poor man who’d just been ordered to drive you, not reassure you of Jumin’s financial affairs. 

You grew quiet, looking out the window as trees, streets, and cars zoomed past you. 

“If you so wish, there are numerous meals options in the compartments below the seats as well as alcohol, carbonated beverages and iced water glasses. You are, of course, welcome to any of these. Please do not hesitate to notify me if there is something you’d like instead. We’d glad to make it a regular option in all of our limousines.” 

You flushed, embarrassed at the amount of power Jumin’s words, and effectively, your own seemed to have on the entire Han Conglomerate as a whole. You laughed a little, it was funny thinking to yourself that you had so much power as to decide snack options for Jumin’s cars. 

Jumin was extra like that, he always went above and beyond to make you comfortable. You loved that about him. It made you feel a little spoiled, so you instinctively rejected most offers at things that seemed to further complicate his worker’s duties. 

You had no idea that when the chauffeur had said airport he meant the Han Private Airway Transportation Zone. 

As in... private jet. 

It was hard not to feel like you were in a whole different world. 

Not that Jumin treated you that way... but it was hard not to notice! 

You bowed in thanks to the driver before hastily finding your way to the nearest man standing in another black suit, his hands folded together in front of him. 

As soon as you uttered your name, his whole demeanor changed and he instantly had gone from cool and collected to humble and overwhelmingly kind. 

He’d quickly made his way to the boarding area, escorting you to the jet before leaving you at a polite distance way from Jumin who’d been looking at you from the moment you’d entered the aircraft. 

His eyes searched your own as you’d yet to discover his presence 

He couldn’t help but rake his eyes up and down your body, admiring the way you could look just in anything. 

He at last saw you searching the spacious cabin, at last laying eyes on him. 

His heart pounded faster, as if your noticing him made his heart leap in joy

You looked relieved and smiled, running over to him and sitting down next to him 

“Hi Jumin!! Oh, should I be calling you Mr. Han? That’s what your chauffeur called you.. sorry if that’s what I should’ve been addressing you as!!” 

His deep voice rumbled in your ear, causing you to shudder, “Jumin is fine.” 

You gazed up at him through your lashes, noticing the way his perfectly tailored vest made him look so... well... for lack of better word...hot. 

“Wow. You look...” Your eyes moved from his hair, to his face, to his neck, to his torso, slowly to his groin, to his legs... before you realized what you’d been doing and quickly your eyes shot up again. 

You bit your lip, “You look nice.” 

“Nice?” 

You laughed shyly, and slightly (embarrassingly) breathless, “Yeah. Yeah you do. Nice.” 

Jumin couldn’t help the sly smile he’d been holding back before replying, “You look beautiful.” 

You flushed and looked down, squirming in your seat a little before looking at him once more, offering a small, “..thank you..” 

After a few minutes of silence, you’d decided to change the subject, chattering on about how you wondered what this mysterious vacation would hold 

Jumin couldn’t help is concentration half on every word you were saying, but also your lips. Slowly licking his own, he nodded along when you’d gotten especially enthusiastic, grinning slightly when you’d gotten so excited you’d leapt out of your luxury seat. 

Within a half hour of the trip to your destination in Italy, Jumin had trouble concentrating on much else. 

Get it together, Jumin, you’re not some fool like Zen. 

It’d gotten worse the more you’d leaned further in your seat, your chest becoming slightly exposed

he covered his mouth with a hand, opting for looking out one of the many windows of the jet. 

You’d always caught his attention and made him lose his focus -- something he’d never lost before he met you 

He blamed the strawberry sent that you’d always carried with you 

He wasn’t much for expensive, faux perfume that so many of his father’s skanks would wear... it was like no other. 

After a few hours of grueling torture on your part (though you hadn’t know every single time you’d grabbed his hand or arm it’d sent his heart on a sky dive) Jumin was glad to have arrived in the gorgeous Italian acreage of the countryside. 

It was even more beautiful at the dusk of night, you’d decided 

Immediately a shiny vehicle pulled up, ready to transport you and Jumin to the estate you were to be residing in for the weekend. 

Upon pulling into the culdesac, you almost scoffed at the word “estate” -- it was more of a country in and of itself, land stretched beyond what you could see 

The mansion itself stood on pillars and high, Gothic windows. 

Inside, flying buttresses decorated the building, giving it an elegant and aged ambiance that you just adored 

“It’s so beautiful.” 

He smiled at you then, watching you take in the wonders he’d realized he took for granted. 

He was then directed to a double-door entrance way, “Your room, Mr. Han, Miss Y/L/N.” 

“Separate, correct?” 

The man stood in surprise, looking slightly aghast, “T-they never specified such details.” 

“Contact them immediately to confirm. I’ll work it out from there.” 

“Yes, Mr. Han.” From there, the man scurried away to contact the head of the estate. 

After a few moments, he returned, “The Rossi Conglomerate had assumed that you’d brought your fiance with you.” 

“Did you mention I don’t have one?” 

“Y-yes, of course! But, Mr. Han, your father--”

Jumin sighed, “I’ll take care of it.” with a wave of his hand, the man was gone 

You thanked him on his way out. 

Jumin looked at you, searching for a reaction of displeasure or worry

When he didn’t find one, he began, “I was notified the Rossi had booked their other estates to their American investors. My being here is a formality, but it is business. It would be a great discourtesy to demand--” 

You smiled reassuringly, “Jumin, don’t worry about it.. we’ll share the bed, okay?” You held your hand in his own, rubbing soothing circles on his knuckles. 

Jumin looked at you, choking on his spit slightly. 

“Y/N you do understand that--” 

“It’s fine, Jumin!! It’s late already, I’ll just put up my hair.. and.. do you know where the night clothes would be?” 

He watched as you fixed a bobby pin between your teeth before running your fingers through your hair, watching as you arched your back to-- 

“Jumin? ...you don’t know?” 

He cleared his throat, looking away, pink dusting his cheeks

“Bathroom.” 

You thanked him, unaware of his watchful eyes 

It had been a few seconds since you’d entered the bathroom before he heard a loud and alarmed, “..UM....JUMIN...?!” 

He’d quickly made his way into the bathroom

“What’s wro--” 

He looked and laying on the long granite island of the large bathroom was a silky set of lingerie as well as a note in Italian you couldn’t read. 

Jumin’s words stopped dead on his lips as he stared at you, then the silky underwear set, you, silky underwear, you.......silky underwear. 

On the outside, Jumin liked to think he came off as calm and collected, saying, “I can get you something else to wear.” 

But when he’d made it two steps out of the bathroom he had a little collision. And by collision, I mean his face.. and the wall. 

He looked in every drawer, finding nothing. He presumed clothes would be delivered as specified. But it was late already.. their servants are dismissed, only the protective guards surrounded the inside and outside of the estate.. explaining the situation to them didn’t seem very promising. 

Of course you were kicking yourself, before you’d found their little....gift... you’d cast your days clothes into the washer. They were probably soaked by now. 

Maybe I could use a hair dryer...? Or I could stuff them in the dryer?? 

Either way you’d be without clothes for.. too long. 

And nothing would be greater punishment then showing all that in front of the man you had completely fallen for... 

You heard a knock on the bathroom door. You listened from inside. 

“Hey, I, uh, couldn’t find anything. Do you think you could wear your clothes from today?” 

You whimpered, on the verge of tears, “I already put it in the washer!” 

He knocked again, “Can I hand you something?”, he asked, undoing the buttons of his formal shirt. 

“C-close your eyes!” 

Jumin chuckled darkly before covering his eyes and handing her his collared shirt 

“I’d give you the pants, too, but I don’t think they’d really fit you. Could you look at what they’d provided for me? Maybe slip on something from mine.” 

“N-no! That’d be even worse for me!! .. and you!” You blushed again imagining him half naked

You hurriedly shuffled through the drawers, but to no avail. 

You gulped, slipping on the lingerie to ensure that maybe something would be covered before buttoning Jumin’s formal shirt on you as well. 

it was so big it didn’t leave much for the imagination 

but you decided through a 10 minute pep talk that you’d suck it up and try your best to make his shirt into a night gown. 

You at last stepped out of the bathroom, Jumin’s head shooting toward the sudden noise before taking you in 

He could scarcely breathe, much less come up with a coherent sentence 

you were in his shirt... 

with barely any clothes on underneath

and you looked up at him shyly, biting your lip a little 

drawing even more attention to your lips 

Jumin had to stifle a groan, opting to head to the bathroom to change

After splashing some cold water on his face in a poor attempt to get his head out of the gutter, he quickly got on his pjs 

after you both were ready for bed, Jumin sat on the bed, opening a small novel he’d been enjoying, Anthem.  

His attention was immediately diverted from the dystopian fiction when he saw you were stretching

His shirt rode up high as he took in the way the lingerie perfect accentuated your curves, though it didn’t cover much below the waist 

Noticing your folly, your eyes widened in shock before you immediately put your hands down

which, just your luck, made it all worse. 

the sudden movement disheveled the shirt, causing it to ride down completely on one side, openly displaying the soft brassiere beneath it 

Jumin slammed his book so hard it left an echo in the large room. 

Great. He couldn’t even make it look like his book was suddenly unbelievably interesting that he just so happened to not take notice of the obvious sight before him.

You blanched, feeling a breeze along your shoulder, gasping before running to your side of the bed and pretending you don’t exist anymore 

Meanwhile Jumin is in a  c r i s i s 

In the most eloquent of words, his mind said holy fucking motherfucking shit oh my God fuck fuck fuck AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH oh my god shit shit shit fuck shit sdfasodjgiajsidogjosdg MALFUNCTION!! WARNING!!!! RUN BITCH!!! 

But Jumin didn’t run

because mama ain’t raise no bitch 

but also because if he stood up it would be blatantly obvious that he had-- 

Stop thinking about it, Jumin.

He tried to redirect his mind to his 5 senses, a grounding technique he’d learned when he got too anxious when he was younger 

But sight seemed to dominate it as his mind replayed your facial expressions, the way your hands awkwardly tried to cover yourself up, the way you looked the way he’d take it all off--- 

Oh God. I’m deep in shit. 

He had never been so pissed at himself... and embarrassed. 

He looked over at you, a horrible decision, really. 

You were still awake, your face was redder than the strawberry sent that adorned you 

“s-sorry..” you whispered, willing yourself to try to forget, “pretend that never happened..” 

Jumin was practically feral and you were saying it never happened? 

Jumin couldn’t just pretend he didn’t just see a fucking goddess 

but he would for you 

“..........pretend what never happened?” 

You sighed, a small smile on your face as you quickly turned to thank him 

but he was a LOT closer than you imagined 

he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at you, his head slightly angled. 

And suddenly your faces weren’t so far apart.

And you couldn’t help but slowly close your eyes 

Jumin felt confusion when you’d done this

he can be a bit of a pea brain, so he of course said, “I’m sure you’re very tired.” 

He shut off the light, reaching over you 

You held back the big frown you’d gotten when you realized he’d rejected you 

unbeknownst to you that it took everything in him, from the moment he’d saw you in the jet cabin, not to scoop you up in his arms and make out with you the whole way there. 

Zen 

Was Zen going to invite you to his own fucking tour? 

Of course he was 

he liked flexing his connections 

and most of all, showing you just how much he cared about you 

and loved you

but not the love part because God if you ever found out Zen might jump into the nearest body of water and never return 

not that he didn’t have any confidence

he has lots of it 

but it all kind of disintegrates when he gets to talking about his real feelings

But come on, it was blatantly obvious to anyone who had heckin eyes 

or ears 

or just any functioning body 

the way he’d try to subtly throw an arm over your shoulder 

or he’d lean in whenever you spoke 

or the way he’d readjust his posture when you walked into a room 

or the way everyone caught him staring 

like anytime you weren’t looking 

or when you are looking because he is “built different” 

So the limo ride to the fancy hotel he was to stay at was something that had him looking forward to the tour, but also dreading it 

you’d sat close to him in the limo because his agent and other workers were sitting along with him. 

So close that your ass got pushed further and further onto his lap

because damn where the fuck are we and why are there so many goddamn potholes 

Zen tried to steady you by firmly grabbing your hips 

which was NOT the move 

because now that you were firmly set on his lap, every bump felt like a fucking war against his hormones. 

Like a gentleman, he quickly opted to seat you next to him, not wanting you to feel embarrassed 

still, he could feel you being pulled closer to him with every long turn the limo made or every bump or abrupt stop 

and it was torture. 

like this man is sweating 

but by some miracle you arrive at the hotel in one piece! Yay! 

but Zen’s soul has left his body~~ 

so you get set up 

You open the room, “Look, Zen! This bed is HUGE!!”, you ran over to it and plopped your face onto the sheets

He chuckled, watching you act like a little kid excited about a hotel for the first time 

his brows furrowed when he realized there was no door separator between your rooms 

He immediately called the front desk 

all you could over hear was “No, there seems to be some kind of mistake” 

and “I reserved two rooms -- conjoined” 

“Alright, ok. Thanks.” and then he hung up. 

“So..” he sighed, “They can’t get another room because they’re completely booked. Someone must’ve recognized the limo and lots of fans immediately bought up all the rooms in hopes of seeing me.”

“It’s alright Zen! I can ask to switch with your agent or something!!” 

“NO!” Zen said a little too loudly. “No. Um, look it would be bad because he’s a man.” 

“Your a dude, too, Zen.” 

“I-- yeah, but that’s different because I’m a guy you can trust.” 

“True..”

“So I’ll sleep on the couch, ‘kay?” 

“Zen, no! You need your beauty sleep to be ready for your performance tomorrow!!!” 

“It’s alright, really!”

“I’ll sleep on the couch!” 

“Like hell you will.” 

“Please :(”

“Y/N, seriously--” 

“Then how about this! You and I just sleep in the same bed!” 

Ever the dramatic soul, Zen gasped with his palm over his heart “How SCANDALOUS!” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be Mr. Playboy?”

“Only for you, baby”, he winked. 

You stuttered, “T-that’s not funny! Seriously don’t make it weird you horn- dog!” 

He threw his head back in laughter, “Horn-dog?! I thought you said you trusted me!” 

“Not when you’re obviously thinking about doing this and that to me!!” 

“Doing this and tha---Hey! Who do you think I am?!”

There was suddenly a loud bang on the wall and a burly man shouted, “GO TO FUCKIN’ SLEEP YOU OBNOXIOUS, SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED LITTLE SHITS!”

You smirked, holding in a laugh saying, “Sounds like your fans are getting jealous.” 

Zen’s mouth dropped and you began laughing hysterically 

“T-that was like a 60 year old man!” 

“I’M 42 YOU LITTLE SHIT” 

You fell back on the bed, laughing louder 

Zen shouted back, “WELL EXCUSE ME, SEXY, 42 YEAR OLD MAN” 

There was silence before a harsh knock sounded at your door 

All Zen’s bravado disintegrated and he made a dash for the bed, whispering loudly for you to “Turn off the fuckin’ lights, turn off the fuckin’ lights!” 

You stifled more giggles rising up to your throat as you clicked off the light, making sure the room was locked, and climbed into bed

you breathed out your last laughs, sighing to yourself contentedly before noticing the close proximity you were to Zen 

You stared at each other for a long moment 

You leaned in closer 

Zen placed a palm on your cheek, gently cupping it

he softly whispered, “Can I kiss you?” 

You answered by harshly connecting your lips

The two of you feeding off each other’s oxygen as Zen bit your lip, causing you to gasp and open your mouth to make way for his tongue 

you whimpered, feeling faint from lack of oxygen

the two of you parted, out of breath 

Zen wanted to say something smooth like “I’ve always wanted to do that.” 

but instead he said “I’ve always wanted to do you.” 

He mentally smacked his head, blaming the lack of oxygen for his stupidity

But you smirked up at him coyly, replying, “Then why don’t you?” 

Um yeah rip your hotel neighbor he will literally hate both of you so much 

I had honestly SO MUCH FUN writing this!! Let me know if you want, like, a part two to this. I think I’d just be so fun lol

#707 #zen x reader #jumin han x reader #yoosung fluff #yoosung fanfic #yoosung mm #mm jumin #jumin x reader #jumin han #han jumin #saeyoung choi #luciel choi #seven zero seven #yoosung x reader #seven x reader #saeyoung x reader #myseme #mystic messenger #707 mystic messenger #mystic messenger zen #mystic messenger 707 #mystic mess #yoosung mystic messenger #mystic messenger jaehee #mystic messenger jumin #mystic messenger rika #mystic messenger saeran #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messenger saeyoung

[mountswhore]

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 — mason mount

summary: chelsea’s massage therapist, and mason’s long term crush, had moved to a different club. but after reuniting at nationals, you realise just how much you missed him.

notes: requests are open, just ask! this is so fucking long, please read when you have time.

“I will take care of you.” + “I could never get tired of you.”

for @masterclassbaby

“she’s pretty,” mason hummed, chin in the palm of his hands and eyes gazing at you. chelsea’s newest sports massage therapist. he watched as you conversed with a few of the injured teammates, the boys on either side of him laughing at his blushed cheeks.

“mounty’s in love.” chilly sang, pushing mason gently. the three of them were laying on the turf, waiting for their trainer to arrive and being introduced to the pretty lady who would be massaging their injured limbs from now on. “go on, make a move before kai does. you know he will.”

“i’m not making any moves,” mason huffed and pushed himself to his feet, ben following suit and pulling a ball towards him with his foot, “can i appreciate her beauty without wanting to make a move?” ben rolled his eyes at his friend, eyes now focused on the ball for the first time in twenty minutes.

“so you’re just going to stare at her, like a creep.” ben stated, stopping the ball with the side of his foot and kicked it back to mason. “noted.” mason was barely focused, looking over to you every time you laughed or your voice echoed. he’d laugh with you, crinkling his nose when you did, it was sickening.

ben had kicked the ball to mason’s feet, where is stilled and hadn’t even broken his stare. he had ‘regained control of the ball’ by kicking mason’s ankles, which had definitely caught his attention and caused him to hiss in pain. “you fucker, what did you do that for?”

“i just gave you a reason to talk to her, you clown.” ben revealed sarcastically, mason limping over to you as you held a look of concern.

“everything okay, mount?” you politely asked, the slight touch on his back as well as hearing his name fall from your mouth was sending him into a frenzy. he just nodded, and followed you inside to where your new office resided. “what the hell happened? last time i looked, you were kicking a ball about with chilly.”

your voice was as silky as he’d imagined. “yeah, he’s a bit slow. so he thought kicking me in the ankles would be a wise idea.” you couldn’t help but giggle at the man’s joke, avoiding his gaze as you were sure to blush. this man was attractive, but it was your first day, you had to remain professional.

“i better get to work,” you huffed, rubbing some hand sanitiser onto your hands and pulling his socks down. “we can’t have chelsea’s best player injured a few days before the game,” you’d finally met eyes and stared at each other for a brief second, before bashful looking away.

“you think that?” mason almost sounded unsure of himself.

“of course,” you grinned and applied some pressure to the side of his ankle, “i’d say you’re one of the best.” mason hummed almost silently, resting his head back on the table. it didn’t hurt, and if anything, he’d have to thank chilly for kicking his ankles, as it got you two talking.

weeks had passed, mason visiting your office most days with random excuses.

“my legs are fine. but maybe a shoulder rub for good luck?”

“i bought you a smoothie.”

“it’s cold outside, and i told the boys my thighs were sore.”

“now i’m just bored.”

every time he’d appear, you’d just pull up a chair instead of prepping the table. he’d talk to you about the most random of things, the pair of you having an intense debate on whether or not ross and rachel were on a break. he’d quickly become your favourite visitor.

“mr. mount, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you questioned, knowing it was him just by the way he fiddled with the handle before opening the door. he grinned at the nickname, sitting in the desk chair beside you.

“i actually came to ask if you wanted to go for a drink tonight. the boys were meant to, but now it looks like i’m all alone.” mason explained, a white lie thrown into the mix. he wasn’t being left by the boys, he asked them to cancel, so he could spend some with you. “so, you fancy it?”

“sure.” you smiled, accepting his invitation before you could overthink your way into cancelling. “i’ll text you my address.” he nodded his head, resting his head on his hands as you got on with paperwork. you could see out of the corner of your eye, he was staring at you as you worked. he had no training to be getting on with, and saw a better pastime in watching you work.

when you’d finally finished work and gotten yourself dressed up, mason was even more in awe of you. you looked adorable at work, and now he’d seen you in a new light. it’s like seeing your crush outside of school, it’s weird not seeing them in uniform, but seeing a new layer of them was good. he’d picked you up and taken you to the nicest pub he could find, it was a quiet one. it was a pub you had to pay extra for to sit on the terrace with a table to yourself. but he was willing to go the distance.

“it’s weird not seeing you in your kit.” you mentioned, staring at his impeccable sense of fashion. like he’d been ripped from the front page of asos. mason chuckled loudly and sipped on his beer, after doing a brief ‘cheers’ with you. it was british tradition, after all.

“i know. i’m used to seeing you in leggings and a chelsea top.” mason observed, his cheeks blushing at the way you looked at him. he felt the butterflies begin to swarm in his stomach, like they did on the way here. “now you’re in a dress, i can see your legs.” his eyes widened at the weird statement that just fell from his lips, face burning with embarrassment. “sorry, that sounded so creepy.”

you burst into laughter, feeling anything but disturbed. in fact, you felt more comfortable with him. “don’t worry about it, you’re easy to feel comfortable with.” mason took this chance to hide his rosy cheeks by sipping on his beer. the pair of you conversed for well over an hour, your conversations from work spilling into the mix too. and soon enough you were laughing on the walk back to your home.

“that’s hilarious. i can’t believe we could’ve almost met years ago.” you exclaimed, mason proud of recalling that memory. the pair of you remembered an awful christmas concert that happened in a town near central london, and were almost inches apart unknowingly covering your ears at the screeches made by the backup singers.

you’d ended up at your door, mason standing just centimetres away from your face. you knew what he wanted, and you wanted it to. so, with the confidence given to you by the mixer you’d just downed a while ago, you closed the gap between you and engaged in a sweet kiss with him. it was well overdue, mason’s teammates would say as he told them the following day.

you’d settled in really nicely with the team, enjoying every day you spent at the training grounds. you’d only been on that one drink date with mason, always planning to reschedule another but you’d both be too busy to do so. it didn’t stop you from texting nonstop and have some late night facetime calls. you were really beginning to like each other. it was as if nothing could ruin your happiness you felt with your life at this moment.

until you’d been pulled aside and told by chelsea’s own manager that a man united massage therapist had quit, offering you the job. it would mean your whole life would shift, you’d have to move, you’d have to make friends with a team all over again, and leave mason. you couldn’t bear telling him, which you’d also been told to do. you’d have to break the news to your beloved team, who would come and cheer with you after a win, and always pester you with random requests. you were each of their’s personal assistant almost, loving your relationship with them all. and mason, you knew he’d be crushed, the girl he was so deeply falling for, being told to move to another club.

you were on edge since that very morning, not being your usual joking self with your boys as they came in for their sessions. you’d weakly smile at them and make small talk whilst tending to their stiff joints, then let them leave. all the boys carried on with their day, assuming you were just having a bad day. but mason could see through you, he could tell something was playing on your mind.

as you were putting pressure on mason’s ankle, which he’d been take off the pitch for last week, he grabbed your arm gently. sitting up, he pulled you close to him and held you how he usually did. his hands grazing your sides and his eyes almost burning holes into your own. “talk to me, pretty. what’s on your mind?”

you shook your head. “i’d go easy on the foot today, mount. i don’t want to see you benched next game.” would you even be able to see their next game? it brought you close to tears throughout the day, but being trapped in a room with mason, you were bound to cry and tell him everything.

his grip didn’t leave your arm, instead he pulled you closer to him and held you close to his chest, now standing and towering over you. you felt a sob erupt through your chest, opening the flood gates as you cried into him. he’d never seen you like this, you were always his smiling ball of sunshine. “talk to me, y/n.”

“they’re moving me.” you simply stated, hoping not to say another word and him just understand completely. but it didn’t work like that, none of the team knew. mason would be the first to know, and you had to tell the rest of the team before the day was up. as this weekend you’d be arranging accommodation in manchester whilst you looked for permanent residence, as well as meeting the team and staff you’d be working for.

“what?”

“they’re moving me to united, mase. a therapist quit over there and they asked for me, your manager signed me over a few days ago. and i’m gonna be leaving you boys.” you explained, mason’s grip on you loosening as he tried to come to terms with what you were saying. he’d had his fair share of bad news in his life, but this was the biggest blow he’d felt in a while.

“they can’t do that,” mason stuttered over his tears, a frown cast upon his face, “they can’t just expect you to pack up and leave.” you placed your hands over his cheeks, forcing him to look down at you. that’s when his tears began to fall, looking so vulnerably at each other in this time of sadness.

“they can, mason. and they have, i need to go this weekend to meet the team and look to move up there.” you admitted, your hands refused to leave his face. you were soaking up every bit of mason you could before you left. long-distance didn’t work for either of you, especially with how busy you both were. the only time you’d see each other would be if chelsea were to play united.

“i can’t lose you, y/n.” he confessed, pulling you into him and resting his head above yours. it wasn’t just losing a girl he was seeing, it was losing someone he loved. he’d fallen deeply in love with you — but telling you would just hinder your movement. he couldn’t make it any harder than it was, it would ruin you. he just had to let you go.

that afternoon, you’d thought about what you were going to say and met the boys on the pitch. the second mason saw you, it took everything in him to not cry into his hands. but he managed to stay strong. you stood weakly beside the team manager, avoiding everyone’s eyes and fiddling with your jumper sleeves.

“afternoon boys,” you greeted them, hearing a few cheers and whistles, they loved you, “i have some news. today will be my last day working with you. i’ve been transferred to united, which will take full effect this weekend. you guys have my number if you just want to talk rubbish, or have any questions for me.” it was a long while of hugging them all, laughing with them and repeating little inside jokes with them.

“what are you going to do without me, huh?” you asked reece, who just chuckled and gave you a squeeze. “i’ll miss you all, you know who i’ll be cheering on if you ever go against united.”

you’d settled in at united perfectly, but something was missing. it was always going to feel this way, nothing would ever break the bond you shared with the chelsea boys. even when they went head to head, and you’d catch mason’s eyes on the pitch, you’d have to hide your smile when they scored, and try even harder if mason was the one putting it in the back of the net. you got on well with the boys here, but you found yourself missing the boys back at chelsea, and most of all, mason.

months had passed since your move to manchester, and you were heading out of your office on a particular tiring friday afternoon, walking past united’s manager, who always seemed to be on his way to something.

“ah, y/n, just who i needed to see.” he commented, stopping you as you were headed out to find a late rashford for his session. “keep an eye on your emails tonight, please. you’ve been included in an international offer.” you nodded, not hearing anything past the word ‘email’. and when you’d gotten home that evening, waiting for your takeaway to arrive, you mindlessly scrolled your emails.

something about the upcoming world cup, saying you’d been selected as the teams massage therapist. it burned your eyes as you danced around your tiny living room; so happy to have a chance at seeing any of the chelsea boys again. you’d thought that after all these months of just seeing mason’s face in his instagram posts, he’d have forgotten about you and moved on. but it was the furthest from the truth.

mason watched over your socials for months, seeing your various pictures with the likes of rashford, shaw, and lingard. he made sure you had friends and was having a good time up north. but every night he’d go to bed, yearning for you and the time you both spent together. missing your first kiss, missing hearing the sound of your laugh in real life, not just through another footballers videos. he missed spending hours on the phone. and although he had a chance to reconnect with you, it would be too much for the both of you to handle. he’d miss you so much more, knowing you were simply unobtainable.

after signing all of the correct documents to show you could in fact work for the national team, you were on your way to the training grounds and coping with living in the camp alongside the boys and other members of staff. it was better than your tiny manchester apartment, that was for sure. you weren’t really needed outside for training, so you set up your office and began on your paperwork. time passed a lot quicker here than it did when you worked at united, it was nearing your lunch break already. a knock was placed at your door, bringing your out of your work daze.

“hello, stranger.” you heard from behind you, heart overjoyed that it was actually him. it was your mason. you turned round to greet him, standing up and immediately pulling him into a hug. it felt familiar, the only bit of familiarity you had in this place. “god, i missed you.” he even smelt the same, as creepy as it was to say.

“i knew you’d be called up,” you admitted to him, looking up at his red face. it was just like the first time, he was so nervous to talk to you, “you’re still my best player.” his hands found your cheeks, taking advantage of the affection not feeling awkward. it was as if you never left.

“you don’t understand how much i’ve missed you all these months, y/n,” he whispered, face centimetres away from yours. “how much i’ve wanted to kiss you again.” you wanted it too, you finally felt like you found your missing piece. but you had to remain professional, this was national level now, not just club level.

“trust me,” you whispered back at him, holding your hands above his own, “i’ve wanted to kiss this pretty face, too. but we have to be professional.” he nodded, understanding that if they were caught, you’d be the one facing repercussions, not him. so he respected your choice and stood back.

“what about when the day’s over, and we go back to the camp,” he suggested, a hand on your shoulder to stop you from turning around, “what would you say to me then?” you just shrugged, sitting back down in your chair and continuing your work. the remainder of your day was quiet, just talking about a few people tomorrow that have stiff joints that need loosening. you’d made your way back to camp, opening your door and sighing as you took your shoes off.

what room are you in? mason texted, waiting outside his door.

you’re eager, i just finished work. but i’m on the floor above you, room 39. you texted him back, speedily changing your attire for something more comfortable and freshening up. mason would be up here within seconds. and whilst there were no rules stating that the squad shouldn’t be in staff members rooms, it felt wrong.

“you’re gonna have to leave when nobody can see you.” you sighed, opening your door to an eager mason. he wormed past you and sat on your bed, semi annoyed that your bed was comfortable than his.

“so not only do you get a room to yourself, you get a bed that doesn’t feel like a plank of wood.” mason stated, clearly getting comfortable on your bed. “i just might have to stay here.” you rolled your eyes and sat beside him, resting your head on the pillow. “you tired?”

instead of saying anything, you nodded and inched closer to him. his right hand was drawing delicate patterns on your exposed arm, whilst the other was wrapped around you. this was the moment he wanted with you, even when you were working at chelsea. but it’s happening now and that’s all he cared about. holding the girl he still deeply loved in his arms.

“i’ll go down to dinner soon,” he mentioned, even if you could hear him or not, “maybe i’ll bring you something up.” a small kiss was placed on your temple, mason snuggling into you a bit more.

the next day, you knew you had some sessions. so you were up early, a text from mason on your phone.

i left late last night, i fell asleep once i came back from dinner. i hope you had a good night.

you blushed at his text, getting yourself prepared for the day. the boys had a match coming up soon and you wanted to be on top of your game, making sure they were all stretched and ready. you sat in your office, prepping your table and your paper work for the first person to enter.

you’d worked with grealish, bellingham, and lingard today. and they only had a few more hours training until they were done for the day. you sighed in your seat and rested your head against your desk, arms and hands sore. your handle was violently shoved down, your door opening in the process. startled, you watched declan carry his best mate in.

“he rolled his ankle taking a kick,” declan explained, helping his friend onto the table. you quickly sanitised your hands and pulled his sock down to observe his ankle. “will he be okay for the game in a few days?”

“yes, dec. he’ll be out in no time.” you reassured his friend, mason smiling through the sharp pain shooting through his ankle. declan had left shortly afterwards, leaving you to giggle at mason.

“what you giggling at, hm?” mason questioned, a finger tickling your side. you squirmed and brushed a hand over his head, his features relaxing under your touch.

“it’s always the ankles, hm?” you retorted, mason rolling his eyes before letting out a laugh of his own. “let’s get you back on your feet in time for this game.” you had taken his boot and sock off, applying gentle pressure to the sides of his ankle and seeing how badly he reacted to the pain.

after the next few days of training, it was finally time for the match. you stood nervously on the side of the pitch, watching the ball being passed around. you watched as it had gone to mason, someone from the opposing team sliding into mason, and knocking his ankles together. he fell and began to yell in pain, the medics rushing over to him and assessing the pain. after realising it was not too serious, but he still had to be taken off, they’d given the job to you.

mason sat on one of the chairs beside you, head leaned back as you pulled his socks down. he winced as your small, cold fingers had pressed different parts of his ankle, but it didn’t feel bad. in fact, it was quite relieving. “it really is always the ankles,” mason finally agreed, making you chuckle and sit on the floor opposite him, “god, it fucking hurts.”

“i will take care of you,” you mentioned, your hand sliding into his. he smiled at the contact, his free hands gently tickling your side. this small amount of public affection felt scary, but good. you knew someone would pick up on it, but you didn’t care in the slightest. you had been away from mason for far too long. months and months apart, yearning for each other every second you were awake.

when the match was over, england scoring a whopping 4-0, mason was by your side for the rest of the evening. even getting onto the coach to go home, he sat beside you the whole way; his hand in yours and his head gently resting against your shoulders. when heading back to camp, knowing you had a day’s break before the boys were back on for training again in time for the next match, mason followed you to your room. you didn’t mind, neither did anybody else really.

you’d gotten into bed beside him that night, eyes heavy from the amount of work you’d both put in today, and the buzzed feeling from declaring victory had awoken something in him. he had the urge to kiss you, like he has every moment he’s spent with you recently, but more than that. he wanted to tell you he loved you, but decided to keep quiet. he wanted to save it for another day, maybe someday more special, when you weren’t trying to catch up on sleep between games.

“are you tired of me?” mason asked, releasing his voice into the darkness. he had no idea whether you were awake or asleep, as half an hour had passed of you both enjoying each other’s presence. you were wide awake, although your eyes told a different story.

“i’m tired in general,” you admitted, rolling over to face him, barely catching his pearly whites in the dark, “but i could never get tired of you.” mason’s heart was beating through his chest, reaching out for your hand to place onto it. it was a special moment — feeling his heart rapidly paced from your words, you’d barely noticed mason’s arm around you as he pulled you into him.

“good, because i’m not letting you go again,” he spoke quietly, your hand now replaced with your head, feeling his pulses on your cheekbone. you smiled for the millionth time that day, happy you had your mason back.

#money mase #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount