#[HI sorry disappeared for a few days in the middle of stuff]

[copterbotblades]

// ahem. I would sell my soul for a Blades plushie

[keferon]

Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Part one

Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.

Under the cut⤵��

Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?

Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?

For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.

Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.

It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.

Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.

His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!

But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.

Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.

He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.

Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.

Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.

He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.

So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.

That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?

Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...

His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.

Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?

Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.

Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.

It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!

People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.

In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.

He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.

Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.

Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..

He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.

Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.

In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.

Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.

Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.

But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.

Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.

Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.

Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.

Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.

Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.

Uggh.

The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.

Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.

When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.

When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.

The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??

Freaking cursed.

Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.

One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???

Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.

It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.

If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--

He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?

He's going to get sick.

He needs to talk to Jazz right now.

____________

Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.

They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).

“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”

Jazz frowns

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.

“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”

Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.

“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”

Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.

“Mech, what the hell?”

“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.

Before thinking for a bit, and adding.

“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”

And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.

This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.

Prowl looks confused.

Jazz looks absolutely frantic.

“SWERVE????”

Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?

Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.

Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.

“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."

Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.

“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”

There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.

“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”

Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.

Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?

“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”

He pauses dramatically.

“The long version is...”

Jazz raises his hand

“What's a holoform?”

Swerve sighs.

“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”

Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl

“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“

Prowl hums

“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”

Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.

“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”

Jazz laughs

“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”

“ I was.”

Prowl frowns.

“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”

“.... I had a lot of practice...”

Jazz claps his hands.

“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”

“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.

Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused

“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”

“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”

“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.

Swerve blows the hair out of his face

“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”

Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.

“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”

Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets

“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”

Prowl twitches his door wings

“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”

Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.

He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.

He's thinking.

Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!

Then he remembers the mess he left behind.

Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.

Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”

“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”

Jazz looks...puzzled.

“Is that bad?”

Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...

“It's...complicated.”

This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...

And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...

Hahahahah oh fUCK.

He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.

It's also probably too late.

But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.

And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.

Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face

“ That expression you have...”

Swerve puts the smile back on his face.

“I need to get to Earth.”

___________________

Swerve is not an idiot.

Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.

He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.

Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.

The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.

He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....

Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.

“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”

Swerve laughs.

“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”

“It's not harmful?”

Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.

“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”

Jazz tilts his head

“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”

Swerve bites his knuckles.

“ I have some unfinished business?”

“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”

Swerve only laughs in response.

_______________

Concentration is tricky.

Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?

Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost

Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.

What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.

He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.

The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.

After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.

He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--

Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.

This is the place where he was last.

He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.

Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.

Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.

Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.

All right.

He's got things to do.

_______________

He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?

He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.

He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.

Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.

All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...

He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?

The answer is probably none.

Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.

A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.

Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.

Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.

Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.

Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.

It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.

He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.

It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.

Blurr's name isn't there.

So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.

He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.

That's...something's wrong.

He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”

Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.

“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?

Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.

Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”

This is it, Swerve thinks.

He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.

He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.

He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.

Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi

Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.

Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.

Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.

Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.

Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.

“'Got bored without me Swindle?”

Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.

“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”

Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”

Swindle adjusts his glasses

“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”

“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.

Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”

He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.

Goes back to his seat.

“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”

He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.

“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”

Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again

“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”

Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.

“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?

Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose

“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”

Blurr blinks.

“Why are you telling me all this.”

Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.

“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”

Blurr's eye widens

“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”

“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”

Blurr runs his fingers through his hair

“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”

Swindle puts his hat back on.

“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”

The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.

Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”

They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.

“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”

Blurr smiles sourly.

“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”

Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.

“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”

Blurr bites his lip.

“I..don’t know...”

Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.

Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.

Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.

The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.

The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.

Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.

Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.

Ah, damn it.

Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.

And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.

Blurr ... is crumbling.

Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.

But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.

He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.

And continues to act like a jerk of course.

The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.

Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.

When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.

Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.

It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.

It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.

Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”

Investors say, “I think he likes me.”

Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”

Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.

Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.

On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.

Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.

Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.

Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.

Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.

But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.

It makes a difference. Small one. But still.

It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.

From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”

More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?

There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.

While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.

After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.

“Good show.”

Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.

“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”

Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.

Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.

“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”

Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.

“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”

Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.

“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”

Blurr freezes.

No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't

“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”

Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”

Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.

Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.

“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”

Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.

“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”

Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.

“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”

He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.

“You are broken. I can fix you.”

Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.

“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”

Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.

“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”

Blurr flinches.

“I don't need your help.”

“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”

...

“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”

Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.

____________________________

Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.

Holy shit...

Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm

“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”

“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”

Jazz laughs

“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”

Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.

“Ah...”

“So it worked?”

“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”

Jazz rubs his hands together happily.

“I'll take it.”

Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.

He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.

He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.

Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.

Left to himself.

He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.

....

Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?

He looks at Jazz and Prowl.

“You two get along really well.”

Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.

“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”

Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.

On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.

_____________________

”Are you a ghost?”

Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.

He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?

“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”

Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.

Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.

“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”

Blurr squints amusedly.

“You can walk through walls?”

“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”

He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.

“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.

Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.

“ Show me more?”

“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”

“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”

Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.

Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.

“They really drugged you huh?”

“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”

He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair

“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”

Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.

"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?

Race???”

He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???

Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket

“I won't.”

He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.

“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”

Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.

“Well...at least you're alive....”

Blurr shakes his head.

“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”

“...”

“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”

Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.

Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”

Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.

“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”

“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”

Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...

Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.

“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”

“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”

Swerve stiffens.

“I...Wwhat?”

“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”

He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues

“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”

Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.

Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.

“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”

“You'll tell me later?”

Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.

“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”

---------------

Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.

“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”

Swerve snorts.

“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”

“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”

Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.

“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”

Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.

“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.

Swerve laughs.

“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”

_______________

His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.

He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.

They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.

Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.

Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.

Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.

Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake

“Mind some company?”

Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.

“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”

Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.

“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”

Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly

“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”

“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”

Pharma tilts his head

“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”

Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.

“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”

“What do you mea...”

“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.

“No I'm just...”

“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”

“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”

Swerve shakes his head.

“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”

“Wh..”

Blurr rolls his eye.

“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”

“Wait..”

“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”

Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.

“Can at least one of you shut up??”

Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner

“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”

He raises his eyebrows knowingly

“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”

Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.

“…..Wha....there's rumors?”

“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”

He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself

“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”

Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.

“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma

Swerve shrugs.

“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”

Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.

A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.

“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”

Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.

“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”

Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.

Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.

Then he reaches out his hand to him.

Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.

Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.

Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.

Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....

“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”

Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.

“You're real???”

Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him

“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”

Blurr shrugs.

“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”

Swerve twitches.

“Third??? How are you still standing???”

He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.

“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”

Blurr laughs quietly.

“I'm glad you're back.”

_____________________

He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.

When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.

“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”

“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”

Jazz smiles

“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”

“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”

“Worried about what your human friends will think?”

Swerve swings back and forth on his heels

“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”

Jazz frowns

“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”

“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”

[woniedarlin]

can you, perhaps, do an idol! jungwon x reader fanfic? the setting would be reader accidentally texting jungwon and the reader is an engene as well, actually, but then reader and won keep talking but he doesn't reveal he is an idol until later!! reader could be in the industry as like a staff or smth!

Sent, Delivered, Loved

pairing: idol! Jungwon x staff! reader

synopsis: As a hardworking staff member at HYBE, the last thing you expected was to accidentally text the wrong number in the middle of a busy day. But instead of a confused reply, the person on the other end kept the conversation going. He was funny, easy to talk to, and somehow, you found yourself looking forward to his messages. You didn’t know his name, his face, or even his voice but you liked him. Which was ridiculous, right?

Oh, and the person you were texting? Yeah. It was Jungwon. THE Jungwon from enhypen.

author's note: Thank you for the amazing request, Anonie! I must say, it took me a whole month to finish this, but it was definitely worth it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy reading, everyone! 💖

warning: This is just for the plot and should never be taken seriously. Do NOT text random strangers 😭 and don’t ever fall for someone just through texting. Mentions of cursing and also slight angst.

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n @layzfy

You: bro wtf where r u???

You angrily jabbed at your screen. It was late, you were exhausted, and your friend, your so-called reliable colleague, was missing in action when you needed them most.

You: i swear to god if u left me to deal with this alone i’m blocking u forever.

A few seconds passed, and then-

Unknown Number: uh… hi??

You frowned. That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.

You: ???

You: don’t play dumb. u know what u did.

Unknown Number: i actually don’t. i think u have the wrong number??

Your eyes widened.

Oh.

OH.

You immediately scrolled up, checking the number you had just texted, only to realize that you had completely messed up one digit in your rush.

You: …omg wait. ur not Jiho?

Unknown Number: pretty sure i’m not.

You: oh my god kill me now. i’m so sorry.

Unknown Number: lmao it’s cool. what did this guy do to deserve ur wrath tho??

You sighed and debated whether or not to answer. But at this point, you’d already embarrassed yourself. Might as well go all in.

You: he bailed on me. we were supposed to finish this event setup for work but guess who’s suddenly “busy” 🙄

Unknown Number: damn. fake friend behavior.

You: RIGHT?? like i love him but i will fight him.

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared. Then, it appeared again.

Unknown Number: sounds like a rough job. must be intense working in the industry.

You blinked at your screen. That was… a little specific.

You: wait, how’d u know it’s the industry??

Unknown Number: u mentioned an event setup. unless ur hosting birthday parties on a tuesday night, i figured.

You: touché.

Unknown Number: so what do u do?

You hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t like this was confidential information, but still…should you be talking about work with a total stranger? Then again, you had already gone on a rant about your missing-in-action coworker, so what harm would a little more do?

You: just staff stuff. event coordination, assisting with schedules, making sure idols don’t get lost on the way to their own stages. u know. the usual.

Unknown Number: sounds like a nightmare.

You: it is <3

You chuckled, shaking your head at how easy it was to talk to this person.

Unknown Number: u must meet a lot of idols then.

You sighed.

You: yeah but it’s not as exciting as u think. they’re just people. some r nice, some r annoying, some act like they don’t know what a clock is.

Unknown Number: LOL. any favorites?

You raised an eyebrow at that.

You: what, r u an idol fan?

Unknown Number: maybe.

You: ok mysterious.

Unknown Number: u didn’t answer tho.

You hummed and think.

You: idk. if i had to pick… maybe enhypen? they’re cool.

A beat of silence. Then,

Unknown Number: good taste.

Weird. Before you could think too much about it, another message popped up.

Unknown Number: anyway, u still mad at ur friend or did u forgive him?

You rolled your eyes.

You: still mad. he better buy me food.

Unknown Number: solid plan. u deserve compensation.

You: exactly!! u get it.

And just like that, the conversation flowed on, stretching far past the frustration that started it. You didn’t know who this person was, but they were easy to talk to, and for some reason, you didn’t mind keeping the conversation going.

🫐

Over the next few weeks, your accidental text became a daily habit. You didn’t know why, but talking to this stranger was easy. Maybe it was because he had no expectations of you. He wasn’t a coworker, a superior, or an idol to impress. He was just some guy who sent back sarcastic texts and asked surprisingly thoughtful questions.

And for Jungwon, it was the opposite.

For the first time in a long while, he got to be a normal person. Not Jungwon, leader of Enhypen. Just some random guy in your messages. He didn’t have to worry about his image or if he was saying the right thing. You didn’t treat him differently. You teased him, called him bro, and sent blurry dinner photos.

And he liked it.

Maybe he never corrected you when you called him a nobody. Perhaps he looked forward to your messages more than he should.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you the truth.

🫐

You groaned as you dropped onto a chair in the break room. You are completely drained, and the past few hours have been horrible. Running back and forth between different rooms, handling last-minute requests, and nearly getting run over by a staff member pushing a cart too fast. At this point, your legs were made of jelly, your back ached, and your only source of comfort was-

You: listen here, u lil gremlin. i am suffering.

Unknown Number: ???

Unknown Number: what did i do this time 😭

You: EXIST. why am i here working my ass off while u get to sit there and breathe??

Unknown Number: maybe bc u have a job and i’m just a mysterious, incredibly cool stranger on the internet

You: mysterious, incredibly cool GREMLIN.

You: actually no. goblin. u give goblin energy.

Jungwon almost choked on his water. Goblin??

Unknown Number: EXCUSE ME.

Unknown Number: what part of me gives goblin energy???

You: idk. just a vibe. like a smug little goblin who laughs at my suffering.

Jungwon did, in fact, laugh at that. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

Unknown Number: ok but real talk. what’s making u suffer this time

You: running around hybe like a headless chicken. setting up for another event. also why do idols need so many rooms. just share a table or smth smh.

Jungwon raised a brow.

Hybe.

So, you worked at Hybe. That confirmed it. You were in the same building as him, probably passing by his team without even realizing it.

Unknown Number: sounds rough. u need a raise tbh.

You: RIGHT?? finally someone with common sense.

Unknown Number: goblin says u should go get a snack or smth before u pass out.

You sighed before standing up and walking toward the nearest vending machine.

You: fine. but only bc goblin said so.

Jungwon grinned. He could get used to this nickname.

🫐

You still didn’t know his real name, and he still hadn’t told you what he did for a living. But weirdly enough, you didn’t mind.

One evening, after another long day of work, you flopped onto your bed and grabbed your phone.

You: goblin. tell me something random about u.

Unknown Number: hmm. i like cats.

You: ok well that’s basic. try again.

Unknown Number: wow ok. rude.

Unknown Number: fine. i used to do taekwondo when i was younger.

You: woah. that’s kinda cool. do u still remember any moves?

Unknown Number: maybe. depends. why? u planning to fight me?

You: depends. are u annoying today?

Unknown Number: always.

You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself.

Unknown Number: ok my turn. tell me something random about u.

You: hmm. i can survive on just ramen and coffee for a whole week.

Unknown Number: that is not something to brag about.

You: shh. survival skills.

Unknown Number: more like self-destruction skills.

You laughed.

It was weird how easy it was to talk to him. Even without knowing what he looked like or what he did, you felt like you could tell him anything.

And somehow, you got the feeling that he felt the same way.

As you continued texting, an idea popped into your head.

You: btw. i’m giving u a nickname.

Unknown Number: oh? should i be concerned?

You: yes. but it’s happening anyway.

You changed his contact name and took a screenshot.

You: congrats. ur now “goblin” in my phone. [image attached]

Goblin: goblin again???? why.

You: idk u give me goblin vibes.

Goblin: i don’t know if i should be honored or offended.

You: both.

Goblin: …fair.

You grinned to yourself. Yeah, “Goblin” suited him just fine.

🫐

It was ridiculous.

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. This was getting out of control and liking someone you’d never seen. Someone you only knew through texts and calls? It was wild. But talking to Goblin had somehow become the best part of your day.

It wasn’t just his humor or the way he matched your sarcasm. It was the way he listened. The way he remembered small details. He never made you feel like you were talking too much, even when you went on long-winded rants about work.

And that was the problem.

Because now, you were catching feelings for someone who was like a ghost. What the fuck?

You sighed and stared at your phone.

You: goblin. tell me something.

Goblin: what kind of something?

You: something about you. anything.

Goblin: hmm. okay. i like late-night drives.

You: oh? fancy. what else?

Goblin: i sing a lot, but only when i’m alone.

You smiled.

You: what if ur actually really good but no one knows?

Goblin: oh, people know.

You paused, eyebrows furrowing.

You: ?? do u perform or smth?

There was a long pause.

Goblin: nah… let’s say i’ve had some practice.

You stared at the screen. You felt an odd feeling. But before you could ask more, he changed the subject.

And this was the pattern.

You’d ask about him, he’d give vague answers. It wasn’t like he was lying. He wasn’t telling you everything.

Meanwhile, Jungwon was losing his mind.

He liked you. Way more than he should.

He knew he should tell you the truth…that he wasn’t just some random guy but an idol, an Enhypen member, someone you admired without realizing he was the same person you texted every day.

But how was he supposed to do that without making you feel betrayed?

It didn’t help that you unknowingly talked about him all the time.

You: work was chaos today. my team had to set up for an engene event, and guess what? i had to carry a life-sized jungwon cutout.

Goblin: oh? lucky u. he’s pretty cool.

You: pls. i had to carry his smug face up three flights of stairs. not fun.

Goblin: bet he was judging u the whole way.

You: EXACTLY. i could hear him in my head like “hurry up, bitch.”

Jungwon nearly choked on his drink.

You: i mean, i love him, but he def gives rich, spoiled cat vibes.

Goblin: wow. tell me how u really feel.

You: LMAO SORRY. no but fr, i respect him a lot. he works so hard.

Goblin: yeah… he really does.

Jungwon smiled to himself.

But the longer he kept the truth from you, the worse it felt.

One day, he was going to have to tell you.

He just didn’t know how.

🫐

You had one job. Just one.

Don’t freak out. Don’t stare. Be professional.

Yet, here you were, standing in the same hallway as enhypen. Your heart was racing.

You hadn’t even meant to run into them. You were trying to deliver some documents to another department when you turned a corner, and bam! almost crashed straight into Jungwon himself.

“Ah, sorry!” You quickly stepped back and bowed.

“It’s okay,” he replied casually.

You kept your head down, gripping the files in your hands. You knew the rules. Staff weren’t supposed to interact too much with idols unless necessary. So, you did what you always did. You kept moving, not making eye contact.

But the moment you were out of sight, you whipped out your phone.

You: BRO WTF I JUST BUMPED INTO ENHYPEN HELP

Goblin: oh? ur alive?

You: BARELY. I almost DIED. I ran straight into Jungwon.

Goblin: sounds like a skill issue tbh.

You: SHUT UP. Anyway, I had to act normal and not fangirl. Pain.

Goblin: so u saw Jungwon up close, huh? thoughts?

You: he’s… really handsome actually like stupidly handsome.

Jungwon, reading the text, blinked.

Wait.

Something clicked in his head.

You just said you bumped into Enhypen.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought back to earlier.

A staff member had walked past them, avoiding eye contact. He hadn’t paid much attention, but now that he thought about it…

That had been you.

Jungwon’s breath hitched.

Holy shit.

You were the staff member he had occasionally seen around the company. He’d thought you were pretty before, but it never crossed his mind that you were you.

Now, everything made sense. The things you ranted about, your schedule, and the way you always seemed to know too much about his events.

He grinned to himself.

Goblin: so… if u had to rank the members by looks, where would jungwon be?

You: pls don’t expose me but top 1 actually. his visuals are insane irl.

Jungwon nearly dropped his phone.

🫐

Ever since Jungwon pieced together your identity, he couldn’t help but pay more attention whenever he saw you at the company.

It wasn’t full-on stalking. No, he wasn’t that creepy. But he started noticing little things.

Like how you always ran around, papers in hand, sometimes looking stressed and sometimes smiling at your coworkers. How you always carried an energy drink in the morning, eyes barely open as you dragged yourself through the halls. How you always pulled out your phone at random moments to text him.

And, most of all, how you never once looked at him.

Jungwon found it amusing. You had no idea that the same person you were texting as “Goblin” was now actively looking for you in a crowd.

He casually walked by your usual routes, trying to confirm his suspicions. If you were near, he’d glance discreetly, watching your reactions. You were always professional, always busy, always avoiding unnecessary attention.

But then, one day, he decided to test his theory.

Exhausted, you were standing near the entrance, rubbing your temples as another staff member spoke to you. You were frustrated, probably from another long day of work.

Jungwon, a few steps away, discreetly pulled out his phone and typed.

Goblin: u alive?

A second later, your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Jungwon didn’t even need to guess. The way your entire demeanor changed was all the confirmation he needed. Your tired frown softened. Your lips curled into a small smile.

Bingo.

Now he knew it was 100% you.

Later that night, he picked up his phone again.

Goblin: so, when’s ur funeral?

You: idk but work is definitely killing me first.

Goblin: want me to fight ur boss?

You: pls. throw hands.

Jungwon chuckled to himself. Oh, if only you knew.

🫐

It was late. You sat on your bed, staring at your phone screen. Without thinking too much about it, you opened your messages.

You: Goblin, you up?

A few seconds passed before the typing bubble appeared.

Goblin: For you? Always. What’s up?

You hesitated. You weren’t usually the type to unload your emotions onto others, but something about him…about this…felt safe.

You: I’m just tired. Really tired.

You: Sometimes I feel like no matter how hard I work, no one actually sees it.

You: Like, I put in all this effort, and it’s just… expected. Nothing special. And if I mess up even a little, suddenly it’s a big deal.

You stared at your screen, debating if you should delete the message, but a reply came in before you could.

Goblin: I know exactly how that feels.

That made you pause.

You: You do?

Goblin: Yeah.

Goblin: It’s like… the pressure never stops. People only see the results, not the work behind it. And when you succeed, it’s just “as expected.” But when you fail? That’s when they notice.

That was oddly specific.

You: Exactly. Like, can someone just acknowledge how exhausting it is??

Goblin: You deserve that acknowledgment. Even if no one else says it, I will: You’re doing amazing. And I mean that.

A small smile tugged at your lips despite the frustration.

You: Thanks, Goblin. That means a lot.

Goblin: Anytime.

A comfortable silence settled between you two. Then,

Goblin: Can I tell you something too?

You sat up a little straighter.

You: Of course.

A few seconds passed before he responded.

Goblin: Sometimes I feel like people don’t actually know me. They see what they want to see. They have all these expectations, and I try to meet them, but at the end of the day… I wonder if anyone would still like me if I wasn’t what they expected.

You stared at the message, something about it making your heart ache a little.

You: That sounds lonely.

Goblin: It is. But I guess I’ve gotten used to it.

Your fingers hovered over the screen keyboard before you started typing.

You: Well, I don’t know about them, but I like you. Just as you are. Even if you’re secretly a weirdo who texts strangers in the middle of the night.

There was a pause, then-

Goblin: Wow. I was about to be all deep and emotional, and you just had to call me a weirdo.

You laughed softly.

You: I’m just saying, you’re pretty cool. Whoever you are.

You didn’t realize it, but on the other side of the screen, Jungwon stared at your message for a long time. He felt something that was terrifying.

Because for the first time in a long while, he felt seen. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.

🫐

It’s late at night again, and you’re sitting at home, exhausted after another grueling day at work. Your feet ache, and your body feels heavy, but despite your exhaustion, you’re still awake because of him.

Your phone is open to your messages with Goblin, and you hesitate before typing.

You: be honest. do you ever think about what it’d be like if we met irl?

Jungwon, who was lying in bed, staring at his screen, felt his stomach drop.

Oh no.

Jungwon’s fingers hovered over his screen. His heart pounded as he read your message over and over again. Of course, he had thought about it every single day since realizing who you were. But if you knew who he really was… would you still want to meet?

After a long pause, he finally replied.

Goblin: hmm, maybe… but what if we meet and you’re disappointed?

He winced after sending it. That was a cowardly response, dodging the real issue.

Your reply came almost instantly.

You: lmao please. i bet ur like a middle-aged man with a receding hairline

You: but honestly. i do wonder. it’s weird, right? liking someone u never met??

Jungwon’s stomach flipped. Liking?

Before he could stop himself, his lips curled into a small smile. Did you really mean that? Or was it just a casual way of speaking? He needed to be careful.

Goblin: do u? like me, i mean

The second he sent it, he regretted it. It felt too direct. What if you got weirded out? He considered sending a follow-up message to downplay it, but before he could, his phone vibrated.

You: idk. maybe?

Jungwon stared at the screen, his ears burning. You liked him? But you didn’t even know who he was.

And that was the problem.

He couldn’t keep lying to you.

Taking a deep breath, Jungwon sat up in bed. His fingers moved over his keyboard, hesitating for a long moment before he typed-

Goblin: Hey, can I call you?

🫐

Your phone buzzed in your hand. An incoming call. From Goblin.

Your stomach flipped. He had never called before. Hesitating for a second, you stared at the screen before finally answering.

“Hello?”

There was a pause, then-

“Hey.”

Your breath hitched. His voice was… smooth. Gentle. Familiar in a way. You sat up straighter.

“Wow. So you do have a voice,” you teased trying to mask your nervousness.

He let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah… I figured it was time.”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, this time more serious.

“I have to tell you something.”

Your heart pounded. “What is it?”

Jungwon took a deep breath on the other end. His hands clenched into fists, but this was it. No more hiding.

“I know who you are.”

Your brows furrowed. “Huh?”

“we’ve met before. A lot of times.”

“Wait—what are you saying?”

Jungwon hesitated. “I’m not just some random guy.”

“I’m Jungwon.”

Silence.

Your mind raced. Jungwon? Only one Jungwon immediately came to mind, but that was impossible.

“Jungwon…?” Your voice came out weaker than you wanted.

“Yeah.” Another pause. “Yang Jungwon.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

No.

No way.

The leader of Enhypen. The same Jungwon you had bumped into at the company a few times. The same Jungwon whose songs you had on your playlist.

The same Jungwon you had been texting for months.

You felt your whole world tilt.

“You’re kidding.” You whispered.

“I’m not.” His voice was cautious. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I was scared. I liked talking to you like this. Just as… me.”

Your grip on the phone tightened. You were shocked, confused, and something dangerously close to betrayal.

You had confided in him and talked about your job, talked about him, without knowing it was actually him.

Your mind was spinning.

“I—” You swallowed hard. “I need a minute.”

Jungwon’s heart sank. He could hear the sadness in your voice.

“I get it.” His voice was soft. “Take your time.”

But as the call ended, a heavy silence settled between you.

And Jungwon could only hope he hadn’t just lost you forever.

🫐

You had deleted his contact the second you found out the truth. It was impulsive, but even now, you felt guilty.

You never gave him a chance to explain.

Not that you owed him one. He had lied to you for months. He let you vent about work, about idols, about him. All while hiding that he was the person you were unknowingly talking about. Still, a small part of you wondered what he would have said if you had stayed long enough to hear him out. But it was too late now. You had cut him off, and life had to move on.

So you threw yourself into work, acting like nothing happened. But something felt… different.

For one, your workload, usually overwhelming, had mysteriously lightened. Tasks you had been dreading were suddenly reassigned. Even the small mistakes you made generally earned you a scolding and seemed to go unnoticed.

At first, you thought it was just luck. But then, little things started to stand out.

One evening, after a long day, you dragged yourself into a break room, exhausted. You had been assigned to help with an event that had left you completely drained. As you slumped into a chair, your coworker sighed beside you.

“Lucky you,” she muttered and stretched her arms. “I heard you were supposed to be on cleanup duty tonight, but someone switched it at the last minute.”

You blinked. “Wait… what?”

Your coworker shrugged. “Dunno. Some higher-up pulled some strings, I guess. Maybe you’ve got a guardian angel or something.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. A guardian angel? Yeah, right.

Meanwhile, Jungwon watched from the shadows, unseen. He knew he had no right to interfere. Not after what he had done, but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

So he helped in the only way he could.

He stayed silent and watched from a distance. Making sure you were okay. Doing whatever he could to ease your burden, even if you never found out.

Because if he couldn’t have you back in his life… this was the least he could do.

🫐

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand just as you were about to go to bed.

You groaned, rolling over to grab it, eyes squinting at the screen. Unknown Number.

For a second, you debated letting it ring, but curiosity got the better of you. With a sigh, you swiped to accept the call and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

Silence.

You frowned. “Uh… hello?”

Finally, a voice. “Hey… it’s me.”

You pulled the phone away, staring at the number. It was definitely not saved in your contacts.

“…Sorry, who is this?” you asked cautiously.

A pause. Then, a chuckle. “Did you delete my number that fast?”

Your stomach dropped.

That laugh. That tone.

It hit you all at once.

Your fingers clenched around the phone. “Jungwon.”

Another silence. Then, softly-“Yeah.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like you couldn’t breathe.

Your brain scrambled to find something to say, but you could only stare blankly at your ceiling.

“I—What do you want?” Your voice came out smaller than you intended.

Jungwon exhaled as if he had been holding his breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… I just needed to hear your voice.”

Your grip on the phone tightened.

“You shouldn’t have called,” you muttered. “You shouldn’t—”

“I know,” he cut in. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I couldn’t help it.”

You shut your eyes. “Jungwon, I—”

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he rushed out. “I should’ve told you a lot of things.”

Your chest ached.

“I knew it was you,” he continued. “I figured it out early. But I didn’t say anything because I was selfish. I didn’t want you to treat me differently. I didn’t want to lose what we had. I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t pretending,” he said softer now. “Everything I said to you was real.”

You pressed your palm against your forehead. You were overwhelmed.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but…” Jungwon hesitated. “Can I see you?”

Your heart pounded.

Could you face him? After everything?

🫐

You didn’t know why you said yes.

Maybe it was curiosity. Perhaps because you missed the feeling of something that had once felt so real. Or perhaps you weren’t as ready to let him go as you told yourself. So now, here you were. Your jacket covered your pj’s underneath. The air was cold, but not nearly as cold as the tension between you and the boy standing a few feet away. For a moment, neither of you spoke. He was wearing a hoodie, hands tucked into the pockets, eyes looking from you to the ground because he didn’t know where to start.

Seeing him now, after everything, felt surreal.

You swallowed. “So… you changed your number just to call me?”

Jungwon let out a soft laugh. “Yeah.”

You shook your head. “That’s insane.”

“I know.” His lips quirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I tried to leave you alone. I did. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You clenched your jaw, “You lied to me.”

Jungwon’s expression fell. “I know.”

“You let me embarrass myself. You let me tell you things…things I wouldn’t have said if I knew who you were.” Your voice was with frustration and hurt. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”

“I do,” Jungwon said quietly. “And I hate myself for it.”

There was silence again. Then, Jungwon decided to take a slow step closer.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said. “I swear. I liked talking to you. I liked that you didn’t see me as an idol. You treated me like a normal person. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like one.”

You exhaled sharply and looked away.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Jungwon continued. “But if any part of you still wants this, still wants me, then I’ll do anything to fix this.”

Your fingers tightened around the sleeves of your jacket.

Do you still want this?

Did you still want him?

You let out a bitter laugh while shaking your head. “You know what’s funny?”

Jungwon stayed quiet.

“I used to think it was ridiculous,” you admitted. “Liking someone you’ve never even met. Someone you only talked to through a screen.” You let out a breath. “But then… it happened.”

Jungwon’s expression softened, but he didn’t say anything.

“I told myself it wasn’t real,” you continued. “That it was just the comfort of having someone to talk to. It was easy to fall for someone when all you had were words and late-night conversations.” You swallowed. “But it felt real. And when everything came crashing down, it hurt like it was real.”

“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” you admitted. “But I did.”

Jungwon’s breath hitched. “You…”

“I liked you,” you said firmly this time. “I liked Goblin. Not Jungwon, not an idol. Just you.”

His hands twitched like he wanted to reach for you, but he held himself back.

“I ruined it,” he murmured. “Didn’t I?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know.”

It was the truth.

Jungwon was bracing himself for the worst.

You sighed and looked down at your feet. “I forgive you.”

He sucked in a breath. “You do?”

You nodded, “But…”

The relief that had started to settle in his features quickly faded.

“I want to take it slow,” you said carefully. “I want to learn more about you. You, not just the person I texted late at night.” You exhaled. “And I don’t know what to do, Jungwon. Even just meeting you here feels like I’m walking on thin ice.”

Jungwon pressed his lips together. He understood.

“If anyone finds out…” you hesitated as you glanced around as if someone could be listening. “I could lose my job. You could ruin everything you’ve worked for.”

“I know,” he murmured.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, “Then why are you even here?”

“Because you’re worth the risk.”

Your heart stuttered.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he said. “But I also don’t want to rush you. If you want to take it slow, we will.” He smiled. “I can wait. I mean, we already spent months texting. I think I can handle a little more patience.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips.

“Okay,” you said softly. “Then let’s take it slow

🫐

Months Later

You were swamped with work, running from one task to another, barely catching a break. The office was hectic as usual, with staff members moving in and out, handling schedules, coordinating events, and making sure everything for the idols ran smoothly. You had settled into a routine again, though now and then, you’d catch yourself glancing at your phone, wondering if he would first text.

Your relationship with Jungwon had been… complicated. Ever since that night, you had both taken slow but careful texts, occasional calls, and a few fleeting encounters in the company's hallways. He was still an idol, and you were still a staff member. Even though no one knew about the two of you, there was always a risk.

As you finished organizing some paperwork, your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Goblin: Come outside.

Your brows furrowed.

You: I’m working??

Goblin: Just for a second.

You sighed. But curiosity got the best of you, and you slipped out of the office, making your way toward the quieter side of the building. As soon as you stepped outside, you spotted him. Jungwon, standing near one of the company vans, dressed in casual clothes, a cap pulled low over his face. Even with his attempt to stay hidden, you could still recognize him.`

“What are you doing here?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Jungwon smiled, “I wanted to see you.”

You rolled your eyes. “We texted last night.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same,” he replied smoothly. “And I figured you could use a little break.”

You sighed. “Jungwon—”

Before you could argue, he held up a small bag. “I got you coffee.”

You blinked. “What?”

“And a snack.” He grinned, holding it out to you. “Figured you’d be too busy to get one yourself.”

You took the coffee from his hands, fingers brushing his for a fleeting second. “…Thanks, Goblin.”

Jungwon smirked. “You really won’t change that nickname, huh?”

“Nope,” you said and took a sip.

He huffed out a laugh.

You gave him a look. “What? You don’t like it?”

Jungwon stepped closer. “I don’t hate it,” he admitted before he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your mouth.

You barely had time to process it before he pulled away, grinning. “But I’d rather you call me something else.”

Your brain is short-circuited. “Like what?”

He shrugged, walking away with a smug face. “I don’t know. Maybe boyfriend?”

Your face burned as you gaped at him. “Jungwon!”

He only laughed, waving over his shoulder. “See you later, pretty.”

And just like that, he left you standing there, speechless.

You stared after him, then scoffed to yourself with a small smile.

“Guess ‘Goblin’ wasn’t so bad after all.”

[tsukii0002]

Imagine the contrast of the coexistence between Mc and Solomon, a human who did not know that magic was real until relatively recently and another human who has lived for centuries and who uses magic as if it were breathing.

Imagine that little things at home where Solomon is always willing to use magic to solve it, while Mc always beats him to it in the most common and least magical way possible.

But above all imagine, Solomon's frustration, how can his magic be rendered useless in such a way? And if he has no magic, what can he bring to that home?

Solomon: Remember that blanket I told you had a hole in it, I think it's time to mend it *opening one of his books*

Mc: I've already mended it, with a few stitches it's as good as new.

Solomon: Oh…

Solomon: Mc, what was the table that was broken?

Mc: Oh, don't worry, I fixed it.

Solomon: Really? What spell did you use?

Mc: Ha, ha, Solomon, you don't need magic to wedge a table.

Solomon: Mc!! With this spell we will solve our rat problem!

Mc: *smiling* I've already taken care of that, no for nothing Barbatos is so happy with me.

Solomon: That's how you earn your premium tea leaves?

Solomon: Please tell me you didn't fix the shelf that was sagging *with a book under his arm*

Mc: *eating a muffin* Oops.

Solomon: Mc, I told you I'd fix it *pointing at the. with the book*

Mc: Solomon, it was tightening two screws, it's going to take you longer to look up such a mundane spell than to fix it manually.

.

Solomon: Mc… you're a sorceress, you should use magic more!

Mc: *funny* And you should use magic less!!! You're still a human, old man. By the way, remember those yellow spots on the tablecloth that bothered you so much?

Solomon: Yeah?

Mc: Well, I've already made them disappear and without magic.

Solomon: How????

Solomon is sitting, somewhat annoyed, on one of the balconies

Mc: Hey…

Solomon: …

Mc: Are you upset?

Solomon: … No.

Mc: *sighing as they stands next to him* Let's talk, tell me, why does it bother you so much that I solve things without magic?

Solomon: I'm not upset, we don't need to talk at all.

Mc: You know that communication is part of living together right? We are two people with different ways of living, if we don't talk how are we going to have a good cohabitation?

Solomon: … With the brothers you never had that problem.

Mc: Sure I have, maybe not with these things because Lucifer encourages certain stuff to be done manually, but we had to set a lot of guidelines when I started living with them.

Solomon: ...

Solomon: *sighing* I'm not upset… it's just that I'm used to doing everything with magic, even the smallest things, it's easier, faster.

Mc: Well, sometimes yes, but sometimes it's easier to do it without magic, and in my case I'm used to not use magic.

Solomon: *looking at them* I know, but there are things I can't do without magic.

Mc: But that's what I'm for, isn't it?

Solomon: *doubting* Then' what do I bring to our cohabitation?

Mc: *realizing*

Solomon: You cook, you do a lot of chores because you are faster, and you take care of a lot of things that allow you to have a routine… I feel that instead of living together, I am a guest...

Mc: Solomon...

Solomon: And if I can't even use my magic, Am I useless? without my magic I…

The two are silent for a moment

Mc: I'm sorry, I've minimized how you feel… and I've done things my way without taking you into account.

Solomon: Ha, ha, don't worry, *now kind of sad* It's not that big of a deal.

Mc: No, I told you, communication is part of living together and you should tell me what bothers you.

Solomon: *looking at them*

Mc: We can try to find a middle ground.

Solomon: How?

Mc: *thoughtful* Well, the day to day things we can do manually and the things that are very difficult or tedious we can use magic?

Solomon: *considering it seriously'* You could also teach me how to do tasks without magic, like how to wedge a table… and I could teach you spells that I usually use, like the one that sweeps the house by itself.

Mc: *smiling* We can also make a schedule so we don't step on each other's to-dos.

Solomon: *smiling too* And create a chat room exclusively for house stuff where we can let each other know if we're going to do something.

Mc: That sounds like a great idea Solomon.

Solomon: *more lively* And I'd also like to do certain chores together, like laundry or cooking.

Mc: … *feeling bad at Solomon's happy face* Yes… we can do that too.

.

.

This turned out to be longer than I thought, and what started as something funny has turned into a drama😅. I'm not going to lie to you, I love domestic dramas, day to day problems… so this post has turned into that because Solomon is used to live in a very different way than Mc, and living together for the first time is always complicated and habits are hard to change, and co-living is not always so great. Give me domestic situations between Mc and the rest of the cast please!!!! 🥺🥺

Anyway, if you've made it this far, thank you very much for reading🩷

.

.

[ywuji]

Omg so like I want to hear your thoughts on perv!Megumi like finally after so long of Gojo teasing him for being in college for two years at this point and being single, he’s finally procured a pretty girlfriend who’s unfortunately (for her) so naive and sweet??🩷💕 Idk I got shy but I know you’ll do something good with this lol

ik i told u id post this after my wips but i started on it n i couldnt stop i liked the idea too much LOL im sorry for being so confusing D; tysm for the ask though!!! :o i rlly enjoyed writing this!!! (n don’t be shy ahjwhs you’re so lovely T_T♡)

perv!megumi !!! please i feel like he’s the type to be a pervert that’s kinda embarrassed n self aware about himself—especially bc gojo kept teasing him all those years n he was kinda just jacking off to whatever x-rated video that came up first (i feel like perv!megumi is highkey into hentai too but he’s taking that to the grave!!)

n when gets a pretty little girlfriend who acts so cute and who he loves so much, when he gets hard he can’t help but let some of that side of him slip out from time to time...

i think he’s also the type to take lots of pictures,, like pictures while you sleep, peeking through your door while you shower, in clothing store changing rooms while you change, upskirt pictures… he’ll make you his little model!! some of them you know about but some of them you don’t, he’s so lewd.

it’s not just pics of you he takes, it's some of himself too. i feel like one of the things he’d love to do to you is when you tell him to come with you to some random uni event, n he’ll randomly disappear in the middle of it, only to go to the bathroom to take pictures of his hard leaky cock to send you with some casual caption like he didn’t just do that ?!?! he’s crazy (more under the cut)

it’s not megumi’s fault he’s so in his head about you, he still just doesn’t really know how he managed to get someone as pretty and doting as you are as his. 

he sometimes feels guilty for being so obsessed with you—your body clad in pretty little outfits that you show off to him with a twirl, the way you’ll always show him your shiny new sparkly nails when you get them done, how he’s always the first one you’ll pick to talk to about something new you’ve found to love—it’s all that seems to be on his mind recently.

maybe it was gojo’s accidental doing, those feelings of guilt. unintentionally planting a little growing seed of shame in him the first few times he started teasing him for not having a partner yet at his ‘big age’, borderline lecturing him with the ‘when i was your age’ stuff—maybe that was the logical reason why he felt so attached to you, the reason he couldn’t help getting fully erect even when he only saw as much as a pair of your flung-away panties lying at the edge of your bed when coming to your room one day.

but when he recalls back to those nights where you’re innocently cuddled against him, watching whatever movie, a quiet ‘megumi?’ leaving your lips as a sign to tell him you’re falling asleep, and he finds himself shifting in his seat, carefully adjusting your head to let you rest comfortably on him, pressing a soft kiss to your hair as he strokes it and tells you a ‘sleep now, angel’, he knows that’s not the reason.

nevertheless, he’s always been worried about it, thoughts of ‘am i doing too much?’ or a ‘would she not like this?’ clouding his mind. but for every single thought like this he has, he’ll always have two more memories where he’s coming up to you, his sweet-faced little girlfriend, waiting for him with open arms and open heart. and to him, it means more than the world.

and as his cheerful sweetheart girlfriend, you’ve never really minded of course.

you know he’s at least a little perverted, asking to take those pictures of you trying on your new swimsuits, or bras, or skirts, or those times when he pulls out after spilling his load into you, and the first thing he does after making sure you’re okay is to go face-to-face with the trail of cum seeping out of you to snap a few photos.

honestly, you’ve gotten used to it at this point. you just take these moments, seeing what you do to him, as a way of reassuring yourself that he really does just love you that much. and he really does. really!! :(

no matter how innocent or dirty the context, he’ll let you know whenever he gets that warm little feeling in his chest.

“i-i love you,” he pants, head coming up from sucking marks on your neck, languid thrusts coming to a gentle stop as he peers up at you with flushed cheeks. it feels like he’s admitting it for the first time again.

when you stare at him with his same love-drunk look, brows furrowed and eyes pleading, whispering out an “i love you too, gumi”, he’ll pause a moment to study your expression before gently raising you further up the bed, hooking his hand under your leg and repositioning it around his waist.

he’ll drop down to press a kiss to your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder and picking up the pace again, now only determined to make you cum.

when he thinks of times like these, despite what you’re doing together, it’s innocent in his head.

a time where that’s not so much the case though is when you persuade him to come with you to some uni exhibition event, looking up at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes and as many ‘pleeeaaase, gumi’s and ‘please, guuuum’s as you could muster—cause it’s not like he could say no to that, right?

at first he put up an act of feign stubbornness. but eventually he agreed—only when he knew you’d excitedly hug him and press your soft chest to his as a thank you for it though.

he’d tour the hall with you, watching you gaze in awe at everything with your cute, simple curiosity, occasionally pointing out little things in the pieces he liked. before the artist began their talk though, he got up from his seat, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before muttering a “‘m g’na go to the bathroom.”

in an empty stall, he’ll sit atop the lid and pull down his jeans, freeing his stiffening cock from his underwear. he quietly groans as he pumps himself a few times, a slow trickle of translucent white leaking down from his tip.

he silently curses, throwing his head back, thinking about how you let him flip up your pretty skirt before you left, letting him take a peek at your cute ass in the frilly panties he bought for you.

he reaches for his phone, fumbling to send a picture of the sight to you, adding a casual caption of something like ‘hi pretty girl’ or ‘u look so pretty today, angel’.

he pauses, realising that maybe you won’t see it for a little while. he’s imagining you so obediently listening to the artist speaker to notice the ping of his notification—he enjoys that thought too, but he can’t say why.

he’s careful not to thrust up into his fist, not wanting to make too much noise, but it’s futile—he’s too hard staring at the lewd shots of you saved in his secret hidden album—the way you act so innocently, the way you have no clue what the true extent is of what you do to him. he can’t help but let a few breathy whines slip.

he won’t let himself cum though, thinking he’s too good to be letting himself release over some scrunched up, bathroom tissue when he’s got his own pretty little girlfriend waiting for him a few halls down.

he sighs. cleaning up and tucking himself back into the band of his briefs, leaving the stall and washing his hands, walking back out like nothing happened.

[parfaitblogs]

peace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you self isolate, and spencer knows better than to let it get too bad. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. suicide ideation? ("i want it to end"). depression. lots of stuff that coincides with that. brief mention of reader not eating/having no food. please be aware of your triggers. i think i mention reader as a girl somewhere? word count: 1.9k a/n: i finished this then relistened to peace (taylor swift) which was the og inspo for this, and added a section in the middle so if it feels weird its because i failed at integrating it! this was supposed to be out two days ago. all my relationship insecurities in a fic. lol how embarrassing here's my heart tumblr dot com!! anyways enjoy ily all

also posted here on my ao3 !

Three consistent raps against your front door was the only sound that got you up that day, pyjamas that you had not shed from your body in a week hanging off a frame that could probably be described as lifeless — with the nearly dead-looking face to match.

In fact, the only thing to prove you were still a living human being aside from your movement, was the pink hue around your eyes, on your nose, and above your lips, indicating how much you had cried recently. 

Usually, it isn't this bad. You just need a day or two of rotting in your apartment and doing nothing but scrolling on your phone until it died, staring at the wall, or — on the better days — watching reruns of a 90s sitcom that you don't really watch. 

But it was exceptionally bad this time around, for some odd reason, and not one part of you actually wanted to get up and out of bed for long enough to be productive about your day. Your phone had died again, after charging it two days ago, which meant you were on day six of no communication with anybody. Which might partly be why it was so bad now. 

You had a blanket wrapped around your body, dragging against the floor as you wiped your eyes and let out a small sigh, unlocking your front door and opening it, completely unsurprised by the person standing on the other side. 

He was the only one who ever paid enough attention to your disappearing act when you were like this. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you — which is kind of amusing, considering you thought you looked like death reincarnate currently. 

Neither of you said anything as you stepped aside to allow him in, the door clicking shut behind him as he placed down the leather bag he had slung over his body, turning back to you as he finally allowed the frown to appear — one you knew he would've had the entire way here.

"Have you eaten today?" was the first thing to break the silence — the question coming out so gentle you were sure you'd break down again at some point in the next few seconds. 

You wordlessly shook your head, and he nodded his own, saying nothing else as he walked into your kitchen, knowing you'd trail behind him no matter what. 

He opened your fridge first, before closing it when he was greeted with the alarming sight of nothing. Doing the same with your pantry, at which he turned around to look at you.

"Angel, you have no food," he said. And while it held no malice in the tone of his voice, you could tell he was slightly annoyed at the fact. Your heart ached. 

"I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled, and his eyebrows creased inwards. 

He didn't mention your apology — arguing with you about your vast use of 'sorry's' is futile. "Do you want a pizza?" he asked instead, and even though you, mentally, did not, you knew he wasn't actually asking. So you only nodded your head, and found a place at your countertop, the blanket falling from your body and pooling to the ground in a heap.

He ordered a pizza, and then he was nudging your knees apart, standing between them while you stayed sat on a stool, his chin atop your head, that was buried into his chest. 

And he said nothing, as he held you like that until the pizza arrived. And then he ensured you had at least eaten two slices, the remainders going in your fridge for the next meal you needed to eat. 

He was so kind to you, with his every movement, as he dragged you into the bathroom to help you shower. 

It was heartbreaking, the love you could see in his eyes. The tenderness in every stroke of his fingers against your scalp as he washed your hair, the softness in his touch as he did the same to your body. He gently dried you, told you to stay there, disappeared, and returned with one of his many t-shirts left in your apartment drawers. 

That was when you cracked. When he pulled the shirt over your head, that smelled so painfully Spencer and you. The mix of his clean scent and your own laundry detergent that you were so accustomed to, triggering something in you.

So, you crumpled to the floor of your bathroom, and he followed soon after, his arms wrapped around your body once more, firm enough to keep you still as you sobbed into his chest. 

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that for. Long enough for your head to hurt, and your eyes to sting, and hideous snot bubbles to stain his cardigan. 

When your sobs subsided, he spoke. 

"You wanna talk about it?" he said, quietly, and you shook your head. 

"Don't know what to talk about," you mumbled, and he knew that all too well.

He nodded his own head. "Did something happen?"

"Lots of little things."

"Yeah? You wanna tell me about them?"

You hesitated, because you didn't know where to begin. But then you nodded your head wordlessly, swallowing the lump — and, by extension, the sob — in your throat. "I fell down on the stairs at the train station in front of everybody. And then I missed my stop, and I was late to work. And I had a huge project due, but I didn't finish it, and I forgot I hadn't finished it, and I was anxious about it all day. And I think my friends are just pretending to be my friends, because I keep trying to make plans with one of them, and she keeps blowing me off for her boyfriend. And I'm just really sick of being sad all the time, Spencer. I want it to end."

With the onslaught of your bad vignettes throughout the past month coming back up, you broke down, again. Another sob escaping your lips as you pushed your fists down into the tops of his thighs.

If it hurt, he didn't say anything; simply continued to hold you against his chest, on the floor of your bathroom, that, if it were any other time, he would be having a field day rambling about the germs you both were currently sitting on. 

He also didn't say anything for a while as you sobbed, instead his fingers entangled gently in your hair, and he peppered kisses along the top of your head. 

"I don't want it to end for you," he finally said. His hands slid down from your scalp to your face, holding your cheeks with such tender, pulling you back so he could look at you. 

You sniffled. "I'm so exhausted."

"I know, my love. I know," he sighed, thumbs caressing over your cheekbones. "Ending it won't fix that. You know, logically, however you die is the state you'll be in, in the afterlife. So if you die while you're exhausted..."

"You don't believe in the afterlife," you answer, but his words still cracked through your tearful expression, and your lips twitched with a small smile. 

He returned the small smile, nodding his head. "That's true. But I also don't know anything about post-death. I could be wrong."

"How terrible," you mutter, and he laughed, quietly. 

"I know," he mused, falling silent for a few moments longer, with only both of your quiet breathing to break the silence. 

His fingers ran through your hair once more, and you sniffled audibly, your brain wandering away from the small content you had felt in that exchange, and back to one of the many reasons why you had isolated in the first place. 

"Why are you still with me?" you said, slicing through the silence all at once. 

You watched the smile fall, and his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips part as he went — and hesitated — to say something. "What do you mean?"

"I'm difficult." Your voice is impossibly small, and it breaks a crack in his heart as his eyes soften. 

"No. You're not," he reassured. 

"Yes I am," you breathed out — and then the tears came back. "I get sad and then I stop responding and stop seeing you, and you don't get any warning even though I know you should, and I feel so awful every time but then that makes me feel worse. And I'm sad all the fucking time, Spencer. I mean, I get upset when you aren't at home and you have to deal with all those messages and calls even though you hate texting, but then you get home and I'm isolating myself because I'm sad, on top of all the other things that make me sad, and you deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you their all and—and—"

"Hey," he cut you off, as did the sob that was ripped from your throat. "No. That's not what we're going to do. Do not sit there and tell me what I do and don't deserve." 

"But you do deserve better."

"No," he sighed, resting his forehead on your own, warm breath fanning across your face that usually made you scrunch your face up and pull away, now comforting you. "Do you love me?"

"What? Yes, of course I do. Why would you even—"

"—That is the only requirement I have for you," he said, oh so simply. When you didn't reply, he pressed, "Okay?"

"Okay," you murmured, and he relaxes a little.

More silence fell between you, your tears subsiding and your shaking body relaxing a little more. 

Then, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell down?"

You nodded your head, reluctantly pulling back from him so you could show him. You pointed to a yellowing bruise just below your knee, and the grazes on the bottom halves of your palms. 

"Oh, wow. Look at these," Spencer said, running a thumb gently over the grazes on your hands. "You're braver than me. These would've taken me out."

You laughed, and you saw his face light up at the progress he was making with you, and your mood. 

He then pulled you back into his chest. More silence, but less anxiety, and you sat comfortably in his arms for a few moments longer. 

"Did I worry you?" you say. "Not responding?"

You were so close to him you could hear his breath hitch, and you prepared yourself for a lie about how he wasn't worried at all. Except; "Honestly? Yes."

"Oh."

He exhaled, shakily, and you were kind of glad he couldn't see your sadder expression, half-buried into his chest. 

"You've never gone that long without checking in," he then explained. "The first two days I got what was going on. By the fourth I figured you still needed space. Today I just had a gut feeling."

"Just a gut feeling?" you echoed, and you felt his head nod against your own. 

"Thought you might need someone."

You sighed. "I hate that you're a genius."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't."

His fingers entangled in your hair again. "I also didn't figure you needed me here because I'm a genius."

"No? Then how?" you asked.

"It's simple," he murmured, tugging your head back oh so gently so he could look at you again — puffy eyed, and tear-stained cheeks and all. "I just know."

"That's the most illogical sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."

He laughed, and you smiled again.

"Come on," he then said, untangling your limbs and pulling the both of you up to your feet, hands ghosting your waist to hold you steady. "I am willing to sit through whatever awful movie you want me to watch."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[uramakimochi]

HOME IS WHERE YOU ARE

James Potter x Reader

WARNINGS: some use of Y/n, FEM!R, bad parents (but nothing explicit), hurt/comfort + fluff.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

///

Big dark clouds covered the sky during that late afternoon at Hogwarts and the last rays of sun that had illuminated the day up to that moment disappeared behind their blackness. You could say that the day had gotten worse, speaking of weather, so much so that even small, light drops of rain began to fall. Some like bad weather and some don't, but at that moment you felt like you were part of the second group.

A beautiful sunny day had been ruined by rain and the same thing had just happened to you too, you felt just like the sunny sky covered by clouds. And the clouds in question were in the shape of a letter that had been delivered to you in the middle of completing the last homeworks before the Christmas holidays.

You intended to carry on as much as possible and while you were writing on the parchment, sitting at the table of your house and surrounded by your friends, an owl entered the Great Hall and fluttered above the heads of those present, until it reached your seat. You smiled slightly when you recognized the family owl landing in front of you and paused your work to pet his feathered chest, a gesture to which he closed his little eyes in contentment.

"Did you get a letter?" your friend sitting next to you asked curiously and the others also leaned over to look.

You nodded slightly.

"It seems so. I wouldn't know who to expect it from, if not from my parents" you replied almost in a tone of monotony.

The situation at your home wasn't the best and all your friends, plus James, your beloved boyfriend, knew about it. They were all such good company that you almost considered them more like your real family than your parents. You loved your parents, but the more time passed, the more you got tired of feeling depressed and heartbroken because of them.

You delicately slipped the envelope from your owl's beak and once done he flew away.

"It's probably more insults about how i'm a bad daughter or that they regret giving birth to me. They usually just wait until i come home before yelling at me" you said, shrugging and opening the envelope.

You read in silence, but you realized that that letter contained something worse than just psychological abuse. Your parents had written to you that they didn't want you to come home for Christmas. In fact, they didn't want you to come back to your house ever again.

It felt like a series of knives piercing your heart with every word. You felt your eyes becoming teary and you quickly rubbed a hand over your eyes, also to make sure you hadn't misread. But alas, you read very well.

As your mouth dropped open in shock, your friends exchanged worried looks.

"Y/n, are you okay?"

"What does it say?" they asked you thoughtfully.

You didn't answer, running your eyes over each line to read again. You weren't wrong, it was all true, written in black on white.

You were no longer welcome in your home, the place where you had spent your childhood, with those who you believed would be the two people you would love most in your life. They didn't want you anymore. And you who every time tried to interact with them and tried to improve yourself in the hope of going back to how you were when you were a child, when you were loved by those who had given birth to you. All for nothing.

And the worst thing you thought was that they didn't even bother to show up or wait for you to come back for the holidays to tell you. They had only done it all through one damned stupid letter.

You quickly folded the letter to put it back in the envelope and stood up from the bench.

"I-I'm sorry, i have to go…" you slipped the letter into your pocket and walked quickly towards the doors, ignoring the worried calls of your friends and leaving your stuff on the table.

A few tears were already starting to slowly fall from your eyes and down your cheeks, paying no attention to the students' questioning looks and heading as quickly as you could towards the Gryffindor quarters.

You said the password with a small sob and walked from the common room towards the stairs to the boys' rooms. You didn't want to feel other people's pity on you, you only wanted comfort from one person at that moment.

When you arrived at the door, you already heard the voices of your friends from outside and hoped with all your heart that James was there with them. You quickly tried to wipe the tears off your face and took a deep breath, before reaching out and knocking weakly on the door.

A few seconds later it opened and you were met with Sirius's smiling face.

"Y/n, what a pleasant surprise" he said with a smile and you almost laughed too when you heard his words, but his serene expression almost immediately changed to one of concern. "Doll, are you okay?"

You nodded, sniffling.

"Y-Yes... Sorry Sirius, is J-James there?"

"Of course he's right here, come in" he said softly and you thanked him, walking past him to enter their room. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment as the eyes of all four Marauders landed on you.

"Y/n love, you're finally here!" James exclaimed with a smile, but when he saw your shiny, red eyes he immediately got up from the bed to join you.

"Are you okay? Why are you crying?" he asked you worriedly, stroking your arms with his hands.

You lowered your head.

"James, can we talk... In private, please?" you asked him back, squeezing one of his hands in both of yours.

Your intention was to leave the room with him to reach a more secluded place, but James beat you to it by glancing at the other three present.

"Yeah, absolutely. Guys, would you mind...?" he said, leaving the sentence hanging and indicating the door with a nod.

All three nodded without hesitation and you felt a little guilty about kicking them out of their room, even though it had been James's idea, but when Remus passed you by giving you a quick pat on the shoulder with an understanding smile, you understood that there was nothing to fear.

The door closed and the room fell silent. You had your gaze glued to the ground again and your heart felt as heavy as a boulder. Even though you couldn't see it, James gave you a pitying look as he listened to you holding back sobs.

"Hey..." he cooed in that usual sweet tone he only ever used with you. "Why don't we sit down for a moment? Hm?"

You looked at him with your lips pressed together and then nodded, letting him drag you by the hand, to lead you towards his bed. He sat in front of his pillow and you right next to him, with your legs crossed. James said nothing, waiting for you to speak.

"I got a letter" you only said, reaching into your pocket to take out the envelope and hand it to him.

"It's from your parents, isn't it?" he asked and you nodded.

Even though your entire circle of friends knew what kind of people your parents were, James was the only one you confided in when your parents made you feel bad, he always picked up the pieces of your shattered heart and put them back together. Even during the holidays, when you sent him letters in which you freed your thoughts, he was always ready to answer you to send you all his support.

James opened the letter and began to read. And just like what happened to you, he too, who was expecting to read the usual words of disapproval that your parents had for you, felt his heart skip a beat when he read the content.

Thinking back to the words you had read, tears began to fall down your cheeks more than before and even if you tried to dry your face, it was all in vain.

James raised his head to look at you and even if at that moment the first thing he wanted to do was tear the letter into many small pieces, he knew it was his job to try to console you as best he could. So he left the letter on his bedside table and then stretched out his arms towards you.

"C'mere, darling. Come on" he said, holding you against his chest, over which you cried and sobbed loudly, wrapping your arms around his waist in a weak squeeze.

James didn't say anything, he just caressed the back of your head with one hand and your back with the other, while every now and then he left a few small kisses on your head. He couldn't tell you things like "There's no need to cry" or "Everything will be okay" because nothing was okay in that moment.

After a few minutes the tears stopped, at least during that period of time and you moved away from him leaving the last sobs. James turned to his bedside table and pulled out a silk handkerchief, which he used to gently wipe any remaining tears from your cheeks.

"They didn't even bother to wait for me to come home to tell me. I feel so broken"

"It's normal to feel like this, okay? Say everything that's on your mind, let it out a little" he said, caressing your face with one of his hands. "And i know you might not like hearing this from me, but they were being really shitty this time, more than usual i mean. This is wrong"

You shook your head.

"No, you're right. It's just that..." you let out a long, loud sigh, then squeezed his hands and lowered them into your lap. "I thought they still loved me, even just for a little bit. I'm still their daughter, aren't i? And i love my parents. I tried to put their words behind me and i worked for them, i always tried to improve myself in the hope that they would've loved me again. Apparently it was all in vain. Who knows how long ago they stopped considering me part of the family..."

James nodded carefully with each word as his fingers caressed the palms of your hands.

"Jamie..."

"Mh?"

"Is something wrong with me? Didn't i try hard enough? What did i do wrong to deserve this?"

You almost felt like crying again, but you managed to hold it back. Disappointment was all you could feel, both in your parents and in yourself.

James immediately shook his head frantically.

"Hey, hey, no no no. No sweetheart, nothing, you did absolutely nothing wrong" he quickly said and moved his hands to rest on top of your cheeks. "Now look at me and listen to me carefully, okay?"

You nodded slowly, resting your gaze on his eyes full of love and determination.

"My love, there is nothing and i mean absolutely nothing wrong with you, is that clear? We've all seen what you've done until now, all the effort and the love you've always put into trying to fix things with your family. You did everything you could and they are the ones who don't deserve you as a daughter. You don't deserve to suffer because of them. You have still me, Sirius, Peter and Remus. And Lily and the girls too. I'd say ours is an even nicer and funnier family, right?"

You giggled when you saw his bright smile and James felt relief wash over his body when he heard you laugh, knowing that he had succeeded.

"Yes, you are" you nodded again in his hands and James came closer to leave a kiss on your forehead, and then remained with his lips resting there for a few seconds.

"Look honey, i think you need to put this behind you for a while" he said against your skin and you closed your eyes for a couple of seconds, enjoying the contact. "It would do you good not to think about it"

"And how can i not think about it if i'm going to stay here at school alone for the holidays? Without you and the others, what should i do?" you asked him with a bitter smile.

"And who said you'll spend your holidays here?"

You frowned slightly and pulled away to look at him. James clearly had the look on his face of someone who was holding back from smiling and you looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, until you understood.

"No..."

"Love, i can't leave you here all alone for the whole holiday" he replied immediately and you shook your head.

"Maybe i can find some relatives who can host me at the last moment. And at the end of the school year i will go to them too... Whoever they would be..."

"Y/n..."

"Jamie, i can't do this to you! Taking advantage of you like this isn't right" you said as you stood up and started pacing in front of the bed.

"We've already welcomed Sirius into the house!"

"Exactly! And i can't just show up like that and cause you more problems. What... What will your parents say?"

"They will be understanding because they already know you and love you, darling, maybe even more than me" he replied, chuckling at the ending.

"And...And what about Sirius? Would he agree to this?"

"Y/n we're talking about Sirius. Do you really think he would say no? Especially to you? You're as much his friend as i am and when it comes to family problems i think he can understand you even more than me"

You fell silent for a moment and then nodded slowly.

"You're right. But... I mean, i'd come and live with you James. Under the same roof, maybe forever!" you murmured, tightening your fingers. "Are you really willing to do this? Do you want to have me around all the time?"

"If i didn't want you around then why are we still together?" he asked in turn, standing up as well and giving you a smile.

Your lips curved upwards for a moment and James reached out to take your hands again, while you began to nervously play with his fingers.

"Darling, i don't want to do this because i feel like i have to. But because i want to do it. Of course, i'm sorry that we've come to this point, but i would be more than happy to host you in my house. For the whole time needed. And i can assure you that no one will have any problems with it. I just want to help you, okay?"

You looked into each other's eyes intensely for a few seconds, until you finally smiled again, lifting a hand to fix his glasses that had slipped down his nose a little.

"Okay" you reached out to hug him and James hugged you back. You rubbed your cheek against his sweater and closed your eyes. "Thank you so much James. For everything you do for me. I don't know what i would do if it weren't for you"

"You'd probably be in Azkaban, because only a criminal wouldn't want to be with someone like me, i mean, have you seen me??"

"I might think about Sirius then" you said with a smirk and giving him a small slap on the chest.

"You wouldn't dare, you're too much in love with me now" he replied, giving you a playful swat on the backside and you both laughed.

"Anyway" James continued, placing his hands on your shoulders to pull you away a little and look at you."Everything i do, i do it because i love you. And you know you can always count on me, right?"

"Mh. I know" you nodded and exchanged a kiss on the lips. "I love you too"

-

That evening, in the Gryffindor common room, when Sirius heard the news, he didn't stop himself from letting out a scream that almost woke up the students who had already gone to bed.

"Hell yeah! I'm so glad you'll be there too, dollface, we're going to have so much fun!" Sirius exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air.

"Sirius!" you laughed, holding onto his shoulders.

"Hey, lower your voice" Remus said to him with a smile.

"Welcome to the Potter-Black house, my dear" the other then continued, bringing you back down to ground. "Don't worry, one day during the holidays we'll invite Remus, Peter and the girls too, so you don't have to put up with me and James all the time"

"First of all, it's the Potter house and that's it. You're just the little dog we adopted, Padfoot" James then interjected, leaning forward to take your hand and making you sit on his lap.

You giggled, but Sirius waved his hand indifferently.

"It sounded better that way, but whatever"

"And who gives you permission to invite people to my house anyway? From what i remember, i'm the host, or am i wrong?"

"You're wrong because if we really want to clarify, the boss is your father. And in any case, i give myself permission because i'm practically your brother now" while the two were talking you watched them interact with tenderness.

You liked the relationship between James and Sirius and even though all four Marauders made a great little group, you knew that James and Sirius loved each other just like they were two blood brothers.

"The important thing is that you two don't snog at every hour of the day around every corner of the house, since i already have to put up with your 'couple things' here at school" he said then pointing at you two with a finger and you raised your hands innocently.

"Don't worry, Sirius" you said, before James could speak. "We will try to hold back for the sake of your eyesight"

"What?!" James exclaimed, his eyes widening.

"Thanks" Sirius nodded.

"But darling!" James complained.

"But darling!" the other three copied him and James glared at them, while you giggled amused.

"Sod off"

///

[gr1mstar]

I'm a huge Dark romance book girlie

So can you write LDS boys finding out what she was reading like they had no idea reader has a fascination with dark romance books with psychotic ml or villains

I'M BETTER `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

note. i'm also a huge fan of darl romance books so i had fun writing this. thank you for your request love. also, i'm sorry for the wait, i hope you like it.

contains. love and deepspace boys x reader, fluff, sfw.

ZAYNE

you both had this hobby of reading, so it wasn't strange when zayne found you on the sofa in the living room of your apartment, reading a new book.

the only difference between you was that zayne read books related to medicine and history, while you liked to read romance books. zayne knew that you weren't into history or medicine, so he didn't bother to explain in detail what he read, but he was more satisfied listening to you complain that the two protagonists are stupid that they don't see that they love each other others.

at least zayne liked listening to your stories until they disappeared. suddenly, you started not telling him anything.

so curiously, when you put the book down to go drink a glass of water from the kitchen, he took the book you were reading at the moment, wanting to see what makes you stop sharing the plot of the story.

after some time, making your way back to the living room and seeing zayne with the book in his hand, his face red and a shocked expression on his face, you started to laugh subtly.

"what is it? what's with that expression?"

speechless, zayne puts the book down, moving closer to you.

"to understand that this is how you want me to be too?" he said, placing his hands on either side of your waist.

"what?"

"to talk to you like this… to tie you to the bed with something and make you stop walking the next day? to be crazy about you? what do you say?"

XAVIER

seeing you blushing in front of the book you were reading, xavier couldn't help but ask you what you were reading.

"ah, just a romance book." was your answer, returning to reading, the blush on your cheeks not disappearing.

not satisfied with the answer, xavier sighs and sits back with his head in your lap. thinking that he had nothing to lose, in a second the book you were reading now was in xavier's hands, his eyes on the lines you had just read.

"what is this?" he asked, flipping through a few pages and then looking at the cover. a smile appeared on his face. "do you like this stuff?" he continued, handing you the book back.

you didn't answer now the blush in your cheeks being much more obvious than before, your gaze moving down, avoiding his.

"i understand that you like antagonists more than heroes, right? someone obsessed with you?" xavier said, approaching you with big steps, now being a few millimeters away from you. bending down, his face was directly in front of yours, and with the help of a hand he forced you to look at him, grabbing your chin and turning your head.

"you're lucky, princess. i can be mean sometimes, but you have to take responsibility for it."

RAFAYEL

rafayel never understood what you like so much about books. it is a fictional story, with a fictional person. why waste your time reading about them when you have him, alive and very sexy, in front of you.

this, out of curiosity, he tried to read one day, when he had no painting to complete.

getting into bed, with a cup of coffee 'for energy', he started reading the last book you recommended, not expecting what would happen next.

the hours passed quickly, and in the middle of the book Rafayel lay down, looking at the time in wonder. the whole day had passed, and all he had done was read.

"i lived to see this too." he heard, immediately seeing that it was you at the door. "are you reading?" you asked, laying down on the bed next to him.

"let's say. i was curious why you like it so much." Rafael answered, leaving the book on the bedside table and taking you in his arms.

"and did you like it?"

he didn't say anything, taking his face into the crack between your shoulder and neck, inhaling the aroma of your body. he didn't want to admit that he liked the book, being too ashamed to tell you that now he understood why you liked it.

"so you like it." you said, laughing lightly.

"no. I'm better."

© 2024 gr1mstar — all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.

[cautious-soup]

YandereBully!(It's your fault I feel this way.) Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

Part 5

Part 4 | Part 1

CW// near non-con, implied threats of non-con, physical abuse, psychotic break (you drove him insane lol)

Summary: While Satoru's away for March Madness, you both make a bet. You really ought to know better by now.

A/N: Hey, sorry this chapter has no smut; it's mostly set-up. Buuuut still worth reading for Satoru losing his mind over you. Hope you enjoy!

PS: I know nothing about sports so sorry if anything is inaccurate i really cant be assed to read more than a wikipedia article about men throwing balls around.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤♤♤♤

March Madness saw Satoru gone for most of the month. His face was plastered all over campus though, on posters, pamphlets, wrapped around the pillars in the arena, the TVs in the dining hall. The bracket was everywhere too, your school's name bolded and underlined, slowly moving up the ranks.

Somehow, it filled you with dread. Satoru was already an egotistical dickhead most of the time, but you couldn't imagine how obnoxious he'd be after winning March Madness of all things. He always taunted you for your major, bragging about how a large chunk of the school's funding went into sports, and all of the benefits he got. He really was the worst.

Satoru: we won again lol

Satoru: you still haven't sent a single text saying congrats

Satoru: :((((((((

Satoru: Y/N

Satoru: Y/N

Satoru: cmon you should at least brag to your friends that you know someone who's on TV all the time

Y/N: leave me alone

Satoru: ur so lucky i cant fly

Satoru: or like teleport or something lol

Satoru: maybe i can in another universe

Satoru: u ever think about that kinda thing?

You scowl down at your phone and toss it on your nightstand, turning on your side to try and sleep. Even though it's on silent it might as well be buzzing off the charging cord. What the hell was up with him, wanting to talk to you like you were a normal person all of the sudden?

You chanced a glance at your phone, watching the screen dim and light up repeatedly as Satoru kept sending texts. God, he texted like a middle schooler. You groan, reaching over and snatching your phone off the cord, pulling the plug out of the wall in the process.

Y/N: istg

Y/N: go to sleep you have a fucking game tomorrow right

Satoru: so you are keeping up~

Satoru: i think were gonna win

Y/N: i hope you dont

Satoru: lololol wanna bet?

You squint down at your phone.

Y/N: bet what?

Satoru: you can bet whatever you want it wont matter cus were gonna win

Satoru: btw if (when) we win, i get to do whatever i want to you for a whole day

Y/N: you were already doing that dickhead

Satoru: lol no i wasnt, that stuffs tame compared to what i really wanna do to u

You swallow down a lump in your throat, choosing not to process that text.

Y/N: ok

Y/N: if you guys lose, you leave me alone.

Y/N: Forever.

Satoru: ⚬⚬⚬

You watch in irritation as the dots disappear and reappear on the screen. He usually responded so fast. Then, your screen lights up with Satoru's number. Resisting the urge to throw your phone across the room, you slide your thumb across the bottom and hold it to your ear.

"…what," you ask dully.

"Bet something else," Satoru says.

"No." you say, "You said whatever I want."

"..."

You pick at a hangnail on your finger, "Besides…you were so confident you'd win—it shouldn't matter right? You'll win anyway and get to do whatever you want to me,"

The other end of the call was so quiet you thought he'd hung up.

Then, "Yeah, you're right, it won't matter. Better mentally prepare yourself then huh?"

Satoru hangs up before you can respond, and lets his hand fall to his side. He lays back in the hotel bed, wondering why his heart feels like it's in his throat.

He'd never admit it outloud, but you really are the most fun Satoru's had in years. Sure there were prettier people for miles, and he could pick up any of them—should have. This…thing with you wasn't supposed to last longer than a few weeks. But you just kept giving, and he just couldn't stop taking, couldn't control himself.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, it didn't matter. Whatever he did to you was his choice, not yours. He'd win, and then he'd do awful, awful things to you.

And he'd have a fucking blast doing it.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤♤♤♤

The room was completely silent.

You'd decided to attend the watch party in your dorm's lobby, just to see the outcome of your bet. You weren't really expecting your school's team to lose. You expected them to win, and you expected Satoru to call you hours later, detailing all of the things he'd do to you when he got back. You expected him to barge into your room, pin you to the bed, and turn you inside out, bragging all the while about how he'd won.

But that wouldn't happen, because your school's team lost.

"Shit…" the RA hosting the party sags in his seat next to you, "I really thought we had it this year,"

You nod numbly, looking around the room at the other dejected faces. Then, you look at the TV, and your breath hitches when you see the camera is zoomed in on Satoru. You can't see his eyes, his wet bangs are hanging in front of his face, mouth slightly agape in disbelief.

Shuddering, you give an awkward goodbye and leave.

Is it over? You wonder to yourself in the elevator back to your room.

He'd lost, and if he was supposed to leave you alone forever if he lost. But neither of you were expecting him to lose.

But he did lose.

He lost, for once. For fucking once, he lost, knocked down another peg.

"Good," you whisper, shoulders shaking as a trembling laugh comes from your throat, "Good,"

This is good. This is good.

You dig your phone out of your pocket and try to send Satoru a text about the bet, but it doesn't go through. He must've blocked you.

"Good," you say again, "This is good."

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤♤♤♤

"I just don't understand Gojo," Satoru's coach said, messaging his forhead, "I don—what happened? You were playing like you were in freshman year again. Everybody was screaming at you to get your fuckin' head in the game—why didn't you?"

"My head was in the game," Satoru sighed, but his coach shook his head.

"No, no, I know what each and every one of you hard headed kids looks like when you're in a flow state, when you're distracted. I can read you all like bold underline print at this point, so you're gonna tell me what really happened. What, is it your scholarship? School? A girl?"

"I…" Satoru grit his teeth, "No…kind of it's, she—fuck,"

The coach's eyebrows raised in solemn understanding, he sighed, "A girl, then…"

Satoru feels his breath coming out hard and shaky, "Yeah," he muttered, "A girl."

You.

You were the reason he lost—it was your fault. If you hadn't said that stupid shit, if you hadn't gotten in his head, he'd be drenched in gatorade and headed to the nearest bar right now.

But you got in his head, you with the smile he never got to see, with your hands clawing at his back, with your eyes gazing up at him wide and wet, with your lips quivering against his, with your soft pleas.

All he could think about that whole game was never seeing that ever again. Forever.

But it wasn't fair.

Yeah, that's it, it wasn't fair so it didn't count. He'd blocked you as soon as he'd gotten his hands on his phone after the game, but that was because he wasn't thinking straight. Now he's thinking clearly. Since it was your fault he lost, the bet didn't count. It was basically direct sabotage—you'd gotten in his head like a little minx and made him lose his senior championship. His last chance was gone, and it was your fault.

The coach gave Satoru a look when he started chuckling, "M'sorry coach just," Satoru took a breath, "I had an epiphany."

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤♤♤♤

Satoru unblocked you, but you didn't know because you didn't bother checking.

It's why you're so surprised when your room door flies open a day after the loss, slamming against the doorstop and startling you. You take your headphones off, eyes wide with shock at the sight of Satoru in your doorway. You can tell by his disheveled appearance that he came here straight from the airport.

"No," you start as Satoru strides toward you, "No no we made a fucking bemmgppph, mmMMM!"

"Biting isn't gonna do anything," Satoru hissed in a whisper, pressing his palm harder against your lips. His eyes were so distant, and you watched as they darted across your face, before landing on the dresser by your bed. Keeping his hand pressed against your mouth, Satoru yanks the top drawer open.

"Mmm," he hums pensively as he takes two pairs of your panties in his hand, "These two are my favorite."

Tears sting the corners of your eyes as he balls the garments up and roughly shoves them past your teeth. You always wondered why people in movies never just spit gags out—but now you can't no matter how hard you try.

"NMMMMM!" You thrash in Satoru's grip, but he's grabbing your wrists. You scream as you're dragged off the bed, crashing into the stool you use to step up onto it since it's too high off the ground. Your kicking legs knock a large, decorative mug from your nightstand, sending it rolling. The struggling continues as Satoru drags you to a place on the floor where he can lay you down flat. He brackets you between his thighs, keeping your wrists pinned above your head and looks down at you. You can feel pain blooming in your ribs.

"God you're so…I wouldn't have looked twice at you if they hadn't asked me to do that stupid fucking prank," Satoru hissed, "I never would've fucking met you, and I never would've lost if it weren't for you,"

You try to move your legs, but he won't let you, continuing to ramble, "The whoooole fucking time I thought about you, ok? For the whole fucking time I was gone—cause you're just so easy to mess with. But then you went and-" Satoru looked off to the side, catching his breath, before looking back at you, "Haah, you went and said that shit about leaving me. Leaving me forever? Really? I mean, it—I just couldn't fucking…but you didn't mean it, right Y/N? You didn't mean it?" He asks, getting so close that your noses are touching.

"Nod if you didn't mean it. Nod, and I'll let you go, m'kay?" He whispered.

His grip on your wrists growing more painful by the second, you nod frantically, tears streaming down your cheeks. Satoru took you in for a moment, before letting go of your wrists and taking your panties out of your mouth. You gulp down breaths of air, sitting up.

Satoru chuckles, "I knew you didn't mean it," He said, "Now le—" whack

You're panting as Satoru's eyes go unfocused, and he clutches his head. "You littele…fffuck…" he groaned. You drop the mug like it's on fire, heart about to burst.

Not bothering to stay long, you grab your phone off of your bed, and run out the door. You run out of your dorm, and off campus and you run and run until the sidewalk starts to look unfamiliar.

With trembling fingers, you call your friend and ask if you can stay at her place for a while.

Part 6

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤run all u want lol♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤

A/N: Don't you just love grovel set-ups?

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ @devondespresso it took me a bit cuz i got a cold but i did it!! Thank you soooo much for the prompt i LOOVVEEDD it!!! It got away from me but i'm really proud of this one!!! }

It's sort of an au mixed with canon. Set after s3 and there's no vecna, so all the upside down stuff is settled and this is where their lives are going (and a little bit of where they've been 😉)! Eddie works at an outdoor haunted house as a scarer in the cornmaze! Steve has a brief panic attack.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN Y'ALL!!!

Steve knew it was a bad idea. Going to a haunted house on a blind date. It's technically not a house, and he vaguely knows the date. Or knew the date. Before she'd ditched him. For her ex. Whom she'd apparently just been using Steve make jealous.

So now here he was. Wandering around a corn maze in the middle of fucking nowhere. In the dark. Surrounded by screams. Of laughter. And terror. And he's taken four right turns now and that can't be right. His chest is feeling a littl tight now. His fingers tingling.

He's not a fan of the dark. And the screams aren't helping. He's fine when he's with people. But the person he'd come with had left him, had had no real interest in him. Just using him. Like always. Who the fuck would have genuine interest in Steve Harrington these days.

He clenches his fist when he sees something in the shadows ahead. It jumps out at the group of girls about 20 feet in front him. They scatter and scream, laughing as they run away hand in hand. The shadow, some creepy fucking scarecrow thing, chases them for a few feet and then stops.

Steve freezes. The scarecrow turns, twitches really, in Steve's direction, arms held out like he's out guarding a field, and then stops moving again. Steve takes a hesitant step. The scarecrow's head twitches, but it stays still. Steve can feel his heart beating in his ears, loud, like a drum. His hand twitches, he wipes it on his thigh and takes another step.

The maze is empty is now, in this area at least. The silence pounding in Steve's ears louder than his heart. He takes a few shallow breaths and starts walking. The scarecrow drops its arms. Steve keeps walking, until his foot hits a root and he trips. His hands hit the ground hard, dirt digging into his palms. A strangled noise crawls out of his throat.

He hears footsteps running toward him. From the direction the scarecrow had been. His heart hammers louder, fingers dig into the dirt as he curls into himself further.

"Please don't- I'm just- I can't-" Steve pants, trying to fend the thing off.

"Whoa whoa hey. It's okay. You're okay. Are you okay?" A gentle, hesitant, hand falls on his shoulder. Steve flinches away, involuntarily, the hand disappears.

"Okay no touching. That's okay. Can you stand? Or like.... sit back maybe? You arm's are shaking pretty bad man. Just try to breathe." A voice says, steady, to his right.

Steve's eyes move in that direction and he sees something on the ground by his hand. Something almost the same color as the dirt he'd fallen in. Steve's blinks, hard, sucks in a few deep breaths. It's a mask. A straw mask. Steve lets out a shuddering breath, lets himself fall back onto his butt in the dirt.

"There we go. Okay. That's better." The same calm voice. And then,

"Harrington?" The voice says, full of disbelief. Steve looks to his right and sees a mop of dark hair and pale skin above an incredibly detailed scarecrow costume.

"Eddie?" Steve feels the tension leave his body almost at once. Eddie says nothing. Just stares at him.

"What?" Steve shakes his head a little, looks into his lap.

"Wha- nothing, sorry. I just- I uh... just a little shocked you remember my name." Eddie says, and it sounds almost like a laugh. Steve frowns, looks at him again.

"We went to school together for like... ever, man." Steve says, still frowning. Eddie shakes his head, wraps his arms around his knees where he's crouched next to Steve.

"No yeah I know. Just... we never talked really. Or anything." Eddie shrugs, he doesn't seem mad. Maybe even seems a little amused.

"Right." Is all Steve can think to say.

"Hey. You think you can stand now? There's some picnic tables right outside here. I can take you. Make sure you make it alright." Eddie pushes himself to his feet, holds his hand out to Steve, smiles when Steve looks up at him. His eyes wide, waiting. Steve swallows heavily, reaches up, takes Eddie's hand, and let's him pull him to his feet.

Eddie guides them out of the corn easily. Let's Steve sit for a minute before going to grab them some water. He comes back with two bottles of water and two corn dogs.

"Thought maybe eating might help." Eddie throws himself onto the bench across from Steve, grabs one of the corndogs and takes a huge bite. Steve snorts a laugh in suprise and grabs the other one, takes a much smaller bite. He watches Eddie eat, his cheeks poofed out like a chipmunk.

Steve waits for Eddie to take another bite, lets him chew as they sit in amiable silence, before he says,

"We have talked before." Steve says, quietly, and takes another bite.

"Hmm?" Eddie hums, his eyes wide, cheeks full, head tilted, he looks a bit like a puppy.

"We've talked. Before. I mean." Steve takes a sip of water, tucks his free hand under his thigh.

"You said we hadn't really talked. But we did talk. A few times." Steve elaborated, smiling down at his lap at the memory.

"Umm. Yeah. Yeah no I know we did. I just-" Eddie swallows, hard, he looks a bit... guilty. He shrugs, takes a drink, picks at the table top with his fingernail.

"I just didn't think you'd remember." Eddie shakes his head, his brows furrowed.

"Didn't think I would remember which one?" Steve asks, trying to coax Eddie out of this shyness. Eddie scrunches his face though, shakes his head again.

"Doesn't matter." He mutters.

"Didn't think I would remember buying weed from you after Billy beat the shit outta me? And the way you gave me a handful of free pain meds?" Steve says, Eddie glances up at him, eyes shining through his bangs.

"Didn't think I'd remember you helping me save a kid from drowning at the pool that summer?" Steve asks.

"He was fine. Just panicking. You did most of the work." Eddie mumbled, his eyes locked on Steve now. Steve nodded, hummed.

"And what about the other time? The first time we talked?" Steve bit his lip, took another sip of water, Eddie staring at him the whole time.

"The- the first time? When- I mean... back then?" Eddie takes a shaking breath, sounding winded the way Steve had been about an hour ago.

"Mhm. Back then. In the woods. At the creek. With the turtles and the crawdads." Steve says, smiles softly at Eddie, watches Eddie blush and look away.

"Kinda hoped you'd forgotten about that one I guess." Eddie whispered, his voice so low Steve barely hears him.

"I didn't. Don't think I ever could. I definitely wouldn't want too." Steve bites his lip, worries it between his teeth. Eddie blinks at him.

"W-why not? I mean you could've-" Eddie snaps his mouth shut, his eyes looking a bit watery as he looks at Steve.

"I'd never do that. I'd never tell anyone. We made a promise remember?" Steve sits his elbow on the table, holds his pinky up, and feels relief wash over him when Eddie smiles.

"Yeah. Just us and the turtles and the crawdads. Just between us." Eddie sets his own elbow on the table and hooks his pinky with Steve's.

"I think about that day a lot. Is that bad to say? Weird I mean? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable." Eddie says in a rush, Steve tightens his pinky around Eddie's, hold it fast.

"You don't make me uncomfortable. Kind of the opposite actually. It's always been that way. I feel... nice. When I'm around you. It's like you clear my head." Steve shakes his head, smiles down at his lap. A group of girls run by laughing, hand in hand, stopping by the concession cart. Eddie tries to pull away, tries to hide. Steve keeps their fingers hooked but lowers their hands to the table, out of sight in the dark.

"That's a new one. Usually I just annoy people. Kinda why this is the perfect job for me. I get to annoy people all night." Eddie teases, wiggles his wrist so that he and Steve's hands shake. Steve snorts, shakes his head.

"And yet. You still calmed me down." Steve bites his lip again. Watches Eddie do the same across from him.

"I guess. We keepin this one a secret too?" Eddie asks, his eyes on their linked pinkies. Steve unlinks them, slides his hand into Eddie's.

"I dunno. No turtles around." Steve says, tapping his fingers against Eddie's wrist.

"No crawdads either." Eddie says, his lips tilting at the corners.

"Nope. Just us." Steve confirms.

"Well maybe we should... have a meeting?" Eddie wonders, his voice going a little high.

"A meeting?" Steve asks, frowning dramatically.

"Mhm. At the creek. Get the turtles and the crawdads up to date. Keep them in the loop an all." Eddie explains, his fingers curling up around Steve's wrist, his eyes darting around Steve's face, like he's looking for something.

"We wouldn't want them out of the loop. That'd be terrible." Steve agrees, nodding and wiggling their hands like Eddie had done.

"Mhm. Yeah." Eddie hums, his teeth sinking into his lip to stop the smile threatening to spread.

"EDDIE! BACK IN THE MAZE! NOW!"

Their hands fly apart, Eddie nearly falls off the bench he'd been sat on. He stumbles to his feet and spins toward the shout.

"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I WAS HELPING A GUEST IN NEED!" he shouts back, arms flailing dramatically. He turns back to Steve, cheeks flushed red.

"Heh. Sorry. I have to... go. Back to work. But um... we could... I mean if you want. If you were serious. I could- or you could? If you want." Eddie stammers, grabbing for his mask and holding it to his chest as he slowly backs away, step by swiveling step. Steve smiles at him, brightly.

"I'm free on Thursday." Steve says, cheeks hot.

"I love Thursdays!" Eddie yells, looks around, laughs breathily.

"I can pick you up at seven."

"Seven's great! Love seven!" Eddie calls, waving his mask over his head.

"EDDIE! NOW!"

"I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF A CONVERSATION AND AM GOING OH MY GOOOODDD!" Eddie screams into the dark toward the shouting voice. He waves to Steve, yanks his mask back on over his head, and runs toward the maze.

"See you Thursday!" Eddie yells, turning to wave at Steve before ducking back into the corn. Steve laughs, drags his hand through hair, his palm and wrist missing the touch of Eddie's skin.

He walks to his car slowly, a smile on his lips as he remembers that day in the woods, by the creek, where he met a boy catching turtles and crawdads. The day they played in the water til the sun began to set, catching critters and setting them loose again. The day two sad boys found each other, and shared their first kiss in the creek before running home, laughing into the dark.

[bone-trash]

I saw your obsession over my gladiator AU and I'm happy to give you more:)

Ghost came from a middle class family, they lived in Rome, but at some point his father started going towards the path of alcohol and other stuff, to which they loose all their money and Simon in particular is "saved" by Roba, who takes him in his gladiator guild that fight for senator Shepard (sponsors and publicity because I did research on that shit and I have to stop myself from infodumping about that). Obviously his brother dies fighting in a death duel, and Simon is so angry towards Roba that he attacks him, but Roba punishes him and decides that for years every duel he will loose will be a night with him. So Ghost improves, gains his name (before he was just introduced as just Simon, I didn’t want to look into roman names so I kept their names), but every duel he fails he is hit with a whip at night until his back is red and his skin close to bleeding. Some nights it even got to worse methods (the SA, the meat hook, once Roba even mocked him for being too cute to be a man and practiced a cesarian cut on him [Im sorry ypu had to read that😔]).

Years go on and he gets better at fighting, the torture is less and less often used compared to the past and he has made one semi-friend, Gaz. The man just introduced himself with his fighter name, his parents came from southern places, his mother from Sicily and his father from Egypt (don't worry, no unnecessary accent or "arancina" VS "arancino" fights).

Years into his career, during a duel he notices for the first time a new spectator. He is dressed as a senator, deep red drapes across his shoulders, golden details imbroided into his vests and in particular a weird ass haircut that looks like it imitates a Greek head piece. He seems the only one to notice the presence of the man, and the first time he tapks about him Gaz doesn't believe him. In the next few fights he tries to point at the man for Gaz to see, but either the figure disappears in the public or Gaz literally doesn't see him.

It happens multiple times before something similar happens to Gaz. He sees an older man, with a well kept beard and short hari, dressed as a senator too. This time Ghost is the one who can't see him, or that can't see him becaise he disappears in the crowd.

So, after a particularly hard day of duels, when Ghost and Gaz return to their gladiator guild they find a packet on Ghost's bunk, they open it and find velarious gifts for Ghost. Oil for his skin, precious ointments and perfumes, marsiglian soap and a small silver pin I'm the shape of a flower. At the bottom, on a piece of leather there is a short message: "I hope you enjoy my gifts. I can't wait to see you fight again".

Later that day a package appears on Gaz's bed too, where he finds some ointments, arrow heads (that are extremely well crafted), a small bag with various Asses (money, not the human part), and a small pin with a small incision of bow and arrows, Gaz's main weapons. There is a small note on leather too, this time saying: "There is no price to see you in the arena, but I wanted to let you be appretiated more"

Skip to a few weeks later, when the man that Ghost refers often to has been named "Soap" by Gaz, mainly because of the gift that Ghost recieved and the man Gaz often refers to is called "Price" as a joke more than anything.

Do you want more?

😍😍😍

I LOVE THIS!!! I love the inclusion of Tommy and I love that Gaz is a gladiator and I LOVE how they got their “nicknames”

[lambilegs]

was reading your modern!lee hcs and omg lee x reader meeting on tinder or some dating app is such a fun idea

MODERN!LEE MEETING YOU ON A DATING APP

contains: sfw!!, fluff, just crush stuff nothing major middle picture is from: the guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all by sumiko arai divider by: @enchanthings note to anon: so so so sorry for how long it took to answer this!! thank you so much for the request, this was so fun and so funny to write hehe

you can’t even lie — you one thousand percent swiped right just for her looks LMAOOOO like it’s not your fault even, her profile just has so little to go off of. it’s essentially just a lot of candid pictures her friends have selected for her, with some plain bio that just says what her job is and that she’s looking for something serious (yes, she cringed when adding that second part, and yes, her friends forced her to)

but still she gets bare swipes on her profile, since, well, she’s hot and people find her even hotter when they realize through her bio that she’s a special agent

and, lee? well, she kinda doesn’t swipe much at all, considering she’s very analytical and scrutinizing with everyone’s profile, overthinking about what their bios and fun facts indicate about them, and if they’re compatible with her

eventually, her friends have to snatch the phone and much to her horror, swipe on a bunch of people without pause, their cackles practically evil as she wordlessly watches

you end up being one of the victims of this swiping rampage, which leaves you eagerly texting her a greeting, biting your thumb when you see she reads your message

except... one hour passes. and then another. and then another. and she simply doesn’t reply, leaving you on read for two days before replying back

you’re expecting an apology, something to explain her lack of reply, but all you get is a “hi,” causing you to scoff in annoyance

you try your best to fish it out of her, replying, “hi!! I wondered where you went haha”

when she immediately replies, “what do you mean?” you text, “oh well it said you read my message two days ago”

after the speech bubble pops up then disappears a few times, you laugh out loud at her reply: “oh. I didn’t know you could see that.”

listen, I love her — but like, c’mon, we all know you’re CARRYINGGGG the first conversation. it’s filled to the brim with dry, short, one-worded responses from her, and at one point, you’re pushed to ask, “sooo why did you swipe on me?” since a part of you is wondering if she’s even interested

you nearly delete the conversation when she replies, “I didn’t. my friends did.”

the only redeeming factor is the text she sends a few minutes afterwards, saying, “but, you’re nice, though. they only swiped for me because they said I was overthinking it.”

and that naturally leads you two into a conversation about how much she’s hated dating apps so far LMFAO so you both wind up complaining together, which proves to be a great ice breaker

she has some texting habits that still get you on edge, though, like randomly dropping off the face of the earth for hours to days, and giving you blunt and short responses. even her use of periods sometimes has you biting your lip in nervousness LMAO

but, you can tell she’s trying harder, asking you questions like what you liked about your hometown, or what do you like about your favourite movie genre. you like that about her — her questions aren’t the generic “wyd?” she asks questions that actually allow you to reveal things about yourself, intimate things that really make you feel like you’re sharing these hidden parts of yourself

you eventually adjust to her texting style, slowly figuring out she’s not completely aware of how dry it comes off, and just doesn’t bother with any texting etiquette most people rely on in order to soften their words, like emojis or exclamation points

but, three weeks into texting, when she leaves for an entire two days after you and her had a conversation about your past experiences with romance, you finally crack and ask her, “why do you keep randomly leaving for so long?”

as you had partially expected, she replies with, “I just leave whenever I feel socially drained or get busy. I get caught up with work and won’t reply to messages during that time.”

when you reply neutrally, not exactly sure what’s the fair thing to say, she asks, “does it bother you?” it makes you smile a bit, to know she’s so in tune with your texting style she knows when you’re feeling off. that’s another thing you’ve grown to like about her — she’s perceptive as hell, remembering every little thing you’ve exposed about yourself and able to wind the map of yourself maybe even better than yourself. like, when you mention having high expectations for romance, she muses, “must be the early 2000s romance films,” as though she’s already confident in her ability to read you. and maybe she should be

when you admit you feel a bit hurt when she leaves abruptly without warning, especially if it’s right after you opened up to her, she replies, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it anymore.”

and she doesn’t. it shocks you, really. just how utterly and completely decent she is, how sure she is of ensuring her promise to you doesn’t go broken. she’ll now send you texts like, “work is getting busy, I’ll be back in a few days.” or if she needs to abruptly leave after a certain tender conversation, she’ll always let you know when she’ll be back to continue it. the entire thing makes your heart swell

when you first send her a voice message, it’s to explain a long ass story about a friendship breakup you had. a part of you is scared to, fearing that she’ll find your voice unattractive and maybe like you less. but, you know it’s a necessary step, and she’s bound to hear your voice anyways once you guys meet

so, shakily, heart throbbing, you send her an audio with a trembling voice and lots of — way too many — giggles

when she says nothing about your voice, only remarking on your story, you groan in frustration, nearly screaming in your pillow. you really can’t play any coy, indirect games with her, can you? and so, you send her another message, hoping it doesn’t come off as too serious when you say, “sooo kicking your feet over my voice?”

“kicking your feet?”

shit. of course she doesn’t know the reference

“like,” you text with a grumble, “do you like my voice?”

a bubble pops. then, it vanishes. then, it pops again. and, then: “I do. it’s nice.”

you know it’s barely anything, but still, you beam at your phone like an idiot. and, then, you release a nearly earth-shattering scream when you see an audio message back from her

you pray you like her voice, sucking in a deep breath when you hit play

and immediately, your eyes shut. god. what a goddamn pretty voice she has. it’s light, so airy you feel like it could be carried in the wind, drifting and drifting. and it has this pleasant little edge to it, rough but velvety in its occasional husk. god, you could get drunk off it

one day, when out with friends, you get drunk, high, or maybe just a bolt of courage form their insistence that this lee girl definitely has a thing for you. but, all you know is something triggers a bolt of courage to zap through you, and before you know it, you’re texting her, sloppily texting in the midst of the bumping crowd, “hiiioii I miss you”

she reads it, then to your intense nervousness, doesn’t reply till twenty minutes later, simply saying, “I miss you too”

you pout, replying, “do you really? you took so long to reply”

she immediately responds then, writing out, “I just didn’t know what to say”

“because you didn’t miss me?”

“no. I do miss you. I just am not used to all of this”

your eyebrows furrow. you type out, “all of what?”

“having someone I want to talk to everyday.”

the confession has you holding your breath, the rest of the room becoming drained out white noise as your gaze lingers upon those words, a swarm of butterflies whirling in your stomach. you bite your lip, texting back, “I feel the same way”

she excuses herself, then, saying she needs to get back to work. but, that doesn’t dissuade you from believing the earnestness of her words. you know she wouldn’t lie just to tell you what you want to hear. no, she truly meant it. and that has you buzzing with a thrill all night

the next morning, after sleeping in an egregious amount after the late night out, the memories of what occurred slowly settle back into your consciousness and you cringe, feeling embarrassed for how exposing you were in your need for her. when you pick up your phone and see she’s messaged you two hours ago, you wince slightly before opening it. but, what meets your eyes has you jolting up in bed with a sharp gasp, mouth dropping

“when can we meet?”

[sharkboywrites]

Can you do twst vice wardens (pls replace lilia with silver and ortho with ace) with a male reader that has a habit of not telling people about his various health problems. He has a whole iron deficiency and doesn’t tell anyone until he passes out in the middle of the hallway.

In the middle of a conversation he'll just drop an "Oh, my headaches going down" "you have a headache?" And such.

Thankyou!

"You what?!"

A/N: Hiii so sorry it keeps taking me forever to get to requests. I've been gone for a good amount of the summer on trips and stuff. I'm also dealing with some personal things. I made post about it, but for whatever reason it hasn't been seen. Anyways this request is so me, I'm either bothering people about my problems or literally never telling them to the point where it's concerning. I don't really talk about it but I do have some physical heath problems, so this feels nice for me to write.

Male reader, he/him pronouns used, author put his own health issues in just because, headaches, low iron, knee problems, heart problems.

Trey Clover

Trey is a very attentive older brother type, it would be very hard to hide something being wrong from him

But somehow you did

After all, with low iron, you never really know somethings wrong until you stand up

The two of you were relaxing after a lot of baking

Knowing there was an unbirthday party coming up, you decided to help him out

Unfortunately, you did over exert yourself quite a bit

You definitely felt off, but you decided it was fine and that it would probably go away

while the two of you were sitting down and talking, drinking some water, the timer went off

You went to get up and take the treats out of the oven when

uh oh

for a bit your head felt fuzzy, and you went down

To say Trey freaked out was an understatement

He really thought that you died for a minute

after getting you up and sitting you back down in your chair, he got the treats out of the oven himself

Once everything was settled and he made sure you were okay, you got a very lengthy lecture about taking care of yourself and telling people when you don't feel well

After this he gets very protective over you, constantly checking that you're okay and if you need anything

great job, you've activated the "big brother" part of Trey

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie could probably sense that something was wrong with you

Was he going to address it if you didn't say anything? no.

Listen, it's not that he doesn't care about you, it's just that he doesn't want to make extra work for himself

But don't worry, he ends up regretting that decision

When you're laying on your desk in pain

He stops and doesn't know what to do for a hot minute

And then he's off

He's running around the school trying to get what might help you

Water, food, pain meds

You want it? He's on his way to get it

He feels really bad about it later, please assure him

he'll get mad at you if you admit that it's common for you to never actually teel people you're in pain

He's also paranoid from now on

He'll constantly carry ibuprofen on him just in case and is very vigilant of your body language

he's worried about you

Don't scare him like that again please he can't take it

Jade Leech

It was really just a normal day

going to classes, trying to stay awake during lessons, and getting pestered by at least one of the eel twins

While having a nice talk with jade, something started to feel off

your chest felt weird

It didn't hurt per say, but it felt like it was racing

Having heart issues, you immediately knew what was wrong

Jade watched with a curious look as you took your water bottle and took a drink

He questioned if you were alright, and you told him what was wrong

With a calm look on his face, he immediately takes action

Your brought back to the mostro lounge and told to wait patiently as Jade disappeared for a few minutes

He later came back with a small meal for you and more water

He assured you that it had plenty of salt in it to help your heart's hard work and told you to take it easy

Now that he's aware of your situation, he's extra attentive

He may know somethings wrong before you do at this rate

And don't worry, he never doubts you or thinks you're dramatic if you ever tell him somethin may be wrong

Also has liquid i.v ready if you ever need it

He's now the number one person to go to when you're having issues

Jamil Viper

Parties can be overstimulating

So it's unfortunate that Kalim throws one almost every day

After an hour or two, Jamil thankfully found a less crazy sport for the two of you to sit

The two of you talked for a bit, enjoying the upbeat atmosphere

Halfway through talking, your head started to feel fuzzy, but you decided to brush it off and that it would probably go away eventually

Then Kalim called the two of you over

You couldn't figure out what he wanted you for, but the two of you got up anyway

When you stood up, the fuzziness in your head hit ten times harder, and you went down

Thankfully Jamil, with his quick reflexes, was able to catch you just in time

after assuring you were okay, albeit a bit panicked, you admitted you knew something was wrong, but decided to not say anything

And that's the story of how you got scolded by Jamil about taking care of yourself and telling people when something was wrong

He's much more on edge when the two of you spend time together from now on

He's constantly pestering you about how you feel, while trying (failing) to hide his genuine concern

Don't tease him about it, please

Rook Hunt

Lets be honest now, did you really think you could hide something from Rook?

Getting it away from trey? believable. Rook? Absolutely not

He is vigilant, nothing gets past him

Nothing

Even when you think he's not around, he is watching and he will know something is wrong

And the second he realizes your head hurts, he is all over you

Like showering you in concern and affection 24/7

if you were planning on keeping it from him, too bad

He's not giving you the chance

Really, he's treating you like royalty

You're in bed all day, dim lights, water, and any snacks you want

And he's not taking no for an answer

he's an extravagant man, what else were you expecting?

And from now on, he'll constantly be checking up on you

In the most dramatic way possible

He'll gently grab your shoulders and ask if you're okay

And if you aren't he'll grab your hands and with the most dramatic display, be so distressed for you and also praise you for being "so brave"

Such a dramatic man, really, but a dramatic man who's worried for you

Ace Trappola

Joining basketball with the boys sounds like so much fun, right?

Right???

Not really

Especially not when you've got a whole lotta knee pain

But it's alright, just power through it, as most people say

However most people don't realize that that's a bad idea

And unfortunately, you are most people

Forgetting your knee braces sure is unfortunate, although you thought it would be fine

It was not

Especially not when Ace decided to pull an "ankle breaker" on you

And it did just that

But with your knee caps

Listen, Ace may be a total jerk, but hearing a loud pop and then seeing you collapse...

He couldn't help but feel at least a little bad

But limping over to the bench you assured him that you were okay

Once sitting down, you took a deep breath and

another pop

And right back into place

And now you terrify him

This is something you can hold over his head at the slightest moment he starts to be a brat

Him doing the regular teasing? "Remember when you popped my kneecap out of place?"

Don't ever let him live this down

Silver

Unlike other characters on this list, it is so easy to keep something from Silver

It's not that he doesn't care, he's just very tired

But once he fins out that you've had a massive migraine this whole time, he feels so bad

he offers to get you anything you need

And once you're all settled, he looks so guilty

He may start to wallow if you don't stop him

Please stop him

Please assure him that it's not his fault

He really feels bad for not noticing earlier

Afterwards, he makes it clear that you need to tell him when you don't feel good

He also tries to be a lot more attentive from now on

He just feels so bad

This is where you both decided to work on communication skills

From now on, please tell him when you feel bad

he's worried for you :(

I'm finally back yaaay, but I took forever on this. i procrastinate so bad I'm sorry. I threw in my own physical problems too, hope y'all don't mind. ty for reading and gave a nice day :)

[bomber-grl]

BOMBER THEY I COME BARING A REQUEST!! PLX BARE WITH ME THO I SUCK AT CORRECTLY FORMATTING THESE🙏🏻 Hiro hamada x gn! Reader hcs/comfort were the readers older brother just sucks n they hate him? Like he gets mad easily, really loud when mad,plays victim n undermines readers issues/achievements bcs their younger? (If the brother could also be a grown adult kinda like tadashi you'll have my soul 🙇🏻🙇🏻)

IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS AGAINST THE RULE WERE IT SAYS IT CANT BE SO DETAILED I'M SORRY!!!I tried my best to keep it as simple as possible (especially considering this is based on my own brother 😞😞) if it is against the rules im so sorry and feel free to ignore it !! TY for ur time n don't forget to drink water !!🙇🏻🙇🏻

Hiro Hamada x Reader with a terrible brother

Pairing(s): Hiro Hamada x Gn!Reader

A/N: Sorry if the title is too blunt, but that’s my take away from your ask and I’m rlly sorry u have a brother like that 😞💔

When Hiro first hears about your older brother and what he’s done it’s most likely a watered down version

Maybe you two were hanging out and you began to rant about how he’s trash and that’s all Hiro knew

But then he finds out how bad the reality is- it’s when you sneak into his room through his window using some gadgets

It’s in the middle of the night and you explain briefly what had occurred

An argument as usual had ensued and your brother was overly loud and brought up how you overact with your issues

This really surprises Hiro but he tries his best to comfort you

Especially since this time your delved deeper into what was going on and what your relationship with your brother truly is

Depending on how you are- he’d sneak down and get snacks, water, play games or watch a movie

Either way, the night ends with you two snuggled under the covers

Hiros usually flustered nature disappears at the sight of you being upset and genuinely hurt over a recurring situation

The night is quiet and the discussion sticks to a few words

However, the next morning you two wake up and head downstairs

obviously Cass is like 🤨

But she’s nicer obviously and decides to give you both some breakfast

I could also see her sending something wrong and so she lets it go but there will most definitely be a discussion later

Then you’re off to wherever you are

It’s the weekend and Hiro knows you’d want to take your mind off your brother

This was the first day of many that Hiro would do to try and cheer you up

Overall, he’s pretty protective and heavily dislikes your brother

Which is an understatement considering you hate him

And honestly? At first Hiro was shocked

He’s the same age that tadashi would’ve been and he could never imagine tadashi being anything but his wonderful self

The thought alone messes with Hiro and he truly begins to empathize with you

Knowing that your achievements are undermined just because you’re younger is insane to him

Tadashi was the complete opposite and would always push for Hiro to improve

He’s the reason Hiro even bothered going to his “nerd school”

He really wishes you could’ve experienced what it was like to have tadashi as an older brother but we’re in the now so he decides to just be there

Whether it’s letting you stay over or bringing you stuff

He tried his best

As well as Cass, eventually the two of you have to explain and she’s more than ok wiht you staying over

Of course with ground rules but they’re easy to follow

Even as his hero persona he’s more than protective and sure he has to help people regardless of

But if he ever runs into your brother, best believe he’s having Baymax fly like 1000 feet into the air and be like “oh sorry it was necessary “

And just be a bitch in total but it’s justified

Might be an over exaggeration but let’s be real

Hiro gets real protective over those he loves and you’re no exception

[belles-non-wallpapering-content]

Late night E.S x fem! Reader

Overture- Your boyfriend of a few weeks comes to visit you in the middle of the night, to use your shower after being unfortunately slimed halfway across town from the fire station

Cws- cheek kissing, pre established relationship, brief sort of mention of sex? No detail, and it’s like one sentence, mentions of ghosts and slime.

A/N- Day 4, I’m about a half hour late but in my defense I spent the day slinging over-priced margaritas and left smelling like Modelo extra. Also pretend Egon is the one covered in slime in the picture, looking up Egon Spengler slime, really only gets you pictures from THAT scene

***

It was almost midnight when someone knocked on your door. You weren’t in the habit of opening the door that late, your apartment wasn’t in the best neighborhood, even by New York standards, but you figured you’d at least check the peephole. Right as you got to the door though, you heard a familiar voice calling your name, and you rushed over. It was your boyfriend, and he never stopped by this late without calling.

“Hey, are you ok? What happened?” When you finally got all the locks undone, you hit a good look at him. His glasses were a little crooked, and he looked like someone threw him in the Hudson, but other than that he looked alright.

“I’m alright but there was a ectoplasmic incident. I was doing a late night call close to here, and I was wondering if I could use your shower before this sets.”

“Oh my god of course, it’s just down the hall, I’ll get you something to drink for when you're done.”

“Thank you, Y/N, I really appreciate it.” You stopped him for just a second as you used your thumb to wipe off his cheek so you could give him a quick kiss.

“It’s no problem, go ahead.” Instead of moving, he stopped to put shoe covers over his boots. He didn’t want your carpet to get slimed. He really was the sweetest under that needlessly formal exterior.

He took his shower, and you got a soda for him out of the fridge before going to find something for him to wear. You liked men’s t-shirts anyway, so you got one out for him (even though you really couldn’t imagine him in one), and a pair of pajama pants he could wear.

He came out in a towel, and you could’ve sworn you’d died. Every expression that could’ve been on your face was gone in favor of something between jaw-dropped staring, and mortal terror.

“Sorry, is it alright if I stay here until my under-clothes dry a little bit?” His sheepish reaction to your blatant staring finally got your stupid, broken, brain to process what he said.

“Yes Egon, of course. I’ll get you some stuff to wear.” You came back into the hall with the clothes, folded and ready.

He disappeared back into the bathroom to change and when he came back you were still staring.

“Is something wrong?” He looked down to make sure he’d gotten his clothing back in order.

“No!—No, it’s just I’ve never seen you so casual before. I like it, is all.”

“Oh. Well then—“ he stopped to readjust his glasses, although they were still a little crooked from earlier. You took the opportunity to grab his hand when it came down, leading him to the couch to sit next to him.

About an hour into a movie you were pretending to watch, you noticed something. Now that his hair was fully dry, it was like he was never covered in slime at all, let alone less than a few hours ago.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Your hair still looks perfect, post-slime.”

“Oh, Ray and I made this substance to keep our hair healthy during work and in the lab, it seals out moisture above a certain viscosity. It looks kind of like hairspray, I keep some in the firehouse.”

“You’re so cool.”

“I don’t think that’s the adjective many people would go for—“

“It’s accurate.”you held onto him like a teddy bear, even if only for a second. You didn’t want to overwhelm him. But there was one more thing you wanted to say to him. His clothes were just about dry, and otherwise he was going to leave soon.

“You know, you can—stay. If you want, you know if you don’t have to go back to work tonight.” By the end of your meandering sentence you were more focused on messing with the hem of your shirt than making any sort of eye contact with Egon.

“You would be alright with that?” He said it in a way that was neutral, if not a little stern. Like he was trying to press to see if you’d offered to be nice, or because you thought that’s what he came here for.

“I would, I’d actually like that a lot.” He looked a little bit shocked, and you were immediately worried you came on too strong.

“Only if you want to, of course. I didn’t mean to like, trap you here. And we wouldn’t have to, you know— do anything. I know we haven’t really gotten there.” Suddenly the hem of your shirt was the most interesting thing in the world again.

“That would be nice.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek, and pulled him up from the couch.

“In that case, let’s go to bed.” You had barely led him a few steps, grateful that he hadn’t let go of your hand.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He lightly pulled back on your arm, bringing you back towards him until your back was flush against his chest. Then and only then did he let you continue walking.

[loveandmurders]

Hey sorry I was wondering if you would write a fic about the Sinclair Brothers having twin sons or like maybe triplets. How would they treat them? I've seen sinclair dad's but only with girls and I would just like to them with sons

Thank you :)

-👾anon

Hello sweet love, thank you for this very cute request <3

Hope you'll enjoy this <3

HAPPY FAMILY (female reader x poly!Sinclair brothers)

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of pregnancy sickness, of labour, mentions of a risky pregnancy for reader and the babies, overprotective parents, fluff.

Getting pregnant wasn’t part of your first plans.

You were living with your three lovers and enjoying yourself, doing chores around town and inside the house, having hobbies and sometimes helping to hunt down victims too. But you never saw yourself as a potential mother. It wasn’t that you didn’t like children, it was just that you didn’t particularly feel ready for it. And you were a little bit worried to have kids in the middle of a ghost town with no hospital nearby…

You knew your men would be more than happy to have children though. Bo was a family man and he needed heirs. You sometimes even suspected him to have a breeding kink. Vincent also wanted children, to make sure the family business would never disappear. And he would love to teach them how to sculpt. Lester loved babies and he would adore playing with kids and showing them cool stuff to do.

One morning you felt a little bit sick and weak. You hadn’t been able to stand the smell of the eggs Bo was cooking either, almost making you throw up. The boys had no idea what was going on, but it worried them. They didn’t like to see you ill or hurt. You weren’t sleeping the greatest either, even in their arms. You tried to deny the possibility of being pregnant until your period didn’t show up.

After a few weeks like that, you asked Lester to buy you a pregnancy test and to not say anything about it to the twins. He was really excited but did his best to keep it to himself. He secretly gave it to you and you went to the bathroom. Of course the test came back positive and you stayed for a long time staring at it while being locked up inside the room. You didn’t know how to feel about it. Lester was putting things away in the kitchen but once he was done, he just couldn’t stop himself from finding you. He knocked at the door.

“Hey, baby” he whispered. You got up and unlocked the door for him. “So?” he asked, trying to read your face.

“Les… I’m pregnant” you said without truly realising it and a bright big smile appeared on his face, he even had happy tears in his eyes. He was so full of joy. He couldn’t believe he was going to be a father. He had never been that happy before. He tightly hugged you before kissing you with fierce passion. You smiled against his lips.

“Ya need to tell the twins” he hummed and you nodded. You weren’t too sure how they were going to react but one thing was certain: they were going to overprotect you.

You sat the twins at the kitchen table while Lester was keeping an eye on Ambrose in case tourists came in. The two men were concerned about what you were going to announce because you had this serious expression upon your face.

“So, you know I’ve been a little bit under the weather lately and I can’t stand some smells anymore and all. And well… I’m pregnant” you finally said. You saw the same excitement lit up in their eyes than in Lester’s earlier that day.

“Ya what?” Bo asked with a smile, just to make sure he heard that right

“I’m carrying your child” you repeated and their happiness was communicating. Both the twins were soon all over you, kissing you and stroking your belly. You thought you were going to enjoy the pregnancy if they were all cuddly with you like that.

You had been right about one thing: the Sinclair men were impossibly overprotective and affectionate with you. One of them needed to always be with you. And they forbad you from doing a lot of the chores you used to. They were very gentle with you, trying their best to never do anything that could upset you. You had always felt like the most important person in their lives, but they proved it to you absolutely every day now you were pregnant.

You had been wrong on one thing: it wasn’t just one child you were carrying for them. You started to notice that when your belly got a lot bigger than it should have been for only one baby. You all agreed you needed to see a doctor. Bo was the one to come with you. He was so proud to play the father in front of the nurses and doctors. He was so proud you were having their babies. You all agreed you would never try to know which one of them was the biological father: they were all Sinclairs anyways.

Twins. 

You were expecting twins. 

And you almost wanted to kill the doctor when he told Bo you both would need to be very careful with you because it could be a risky pregnancy, especially because it was your first one. Bo wrapped an arm around your shoulder and very seriously nodded at the doctor. He also asked questions, trying to know how to care about you and his children the best he could. You had never seen him act so grave before. When you arrived at the car, you could tell Bo was tense. He was concerned about you and he was concerned that the twins would know the same fate as him and Vincent.

“They’ll be okay” you told him

“Ya’ll be okay too, darl” he replied and you smiled “Ya’ll go at the hospital, and they’ll care for the babies. And if anythin’ happens… Ya know we’ll always chose ya over the babies” he continued and you grabbed his hand. You shushed him.

“Nothing will happen. It won’t be like you and Vince, I’m sure of it. And of course it's a more risky pregnancy than if it was one child, but I know we’ll be fine and happy” you tried to reassure him.

“Ya’re not the one supposed to reassure me. We’ll take an extra good care of ya” he promised and you laughed, which made him arch an eyebrow at you.

“Not sure how ya can be even more extra with me. Any of you” you tenderly smiled at him and he relaxed at your words. He would hate to know you didn’t feel cared for or loved enough.

“Anythin’ for ya, mamma” he hummed and you blushed at the nickname while placing a hand over your stomach.

Your water broke one morning as you were getting up to grab a glass of juice. Bo and Lester brought you to the hospital as fast as they could, not caring about any kind of speed limit. Vincent was quite upset he couldn’t follow you there, but he wanted the best for the twins. He was so afraid that history was going to repeat itself. He didn’t want to create a small mask for one of his kids, he didn’t want to realise he created a monster with his brothers, he didn’t want you to be put into danger either. He knew that it had been very complicated for his mother and that she almost died. The three men had agreed that they would always choose you over the kids, no matter what. But it still would break their hearts to lose them.

You wished Vincent would have been by your side too, but you hoped you would soon be out of the hospital. You already wanted to be home, in your bed, surrounded by your five men. You knew life was going to be so good. 

The labour went by a lot better than anticipated. 

And the baby boys borned in perfect health conditions. You were exhausted but you asked to see them and Lester and Bo watched them and carried them with such happiness shining in their eyes. Your babies were already so loved. You even forgot about the killing and Ambrose being a ghost town. It was obvious that everything was going to be alright. 

Lester left to call Vincent. His hands were too shaky to send a message and it would allow him to babble even if Vincent couldn’t verbally answer. Vinny was too emotional to even write either so it was alright and he was so grateful that everyone was doing good. He fully let go of his work to finish preparing the house. He wanted everything to be perfect so the babies couldn’t get hurt and you wouldn’t need to think about anything. Vincent wanted you to just rest like you deserved to.

At the hospital, you were too tired to notice how Lester or Bo were reacting with the babies, and a lot of their attention was on you to make sure you were alright. Bo praised you a lot for having done such a good work. And Lester sneaked little chocolates and snacks into your room for you. 

It was when you finally reached back home, you realised how your husbands were reacting to their baby boys.

None of the men couldn’t stand hearing the babies crying. They instantly needed to reach for them and to cuddle them and appease them. They needed to protect the babies from any kind of traumas. They were instinctively caring fathers because they would rather die than reproduce what their childhood had been. No favourite, no scream, no abuse.

Vincent and Bo also refused to separate the baby boys; they wanted the twins to sleep in the same bed. They also tried their best to show the same amount of love to the two of them. They wouldn’t stand the idea that one of their kids would feel like they had a favourite. Lester seemed quite relieved about it. Your husbands often talked together late at night, when you were already resting, to decide what was the best to do for the boys.

You also often found Bo sleeping in an armchair as he had tried to watch over his boys. That way he was ready to take care of them the instant one of them would wake up.

Vincent was also the one taking care of them the most at night because he was a night bird anyways.

Lester was the one who knew how to make them laugh and to amuse them the most. He was good at appeasing them when they were crying too. He let his big brothers be overprotective, so he could be the fun dad. He was also finding them clothes and toys. He was already spoiling them rotten and you were powerless to prevent any of this.

Lester also loved to watch you feed the babies and he was often with you when that happened. And when he wasn’t there, it was Bo because the man wanted to make sure his babies and wife were doing alright. No need to say that Bo and Vincent were the most concerned whenever the boys weren’t eating as much as a few hours ago. You couldn’t stop rolling your eyes at them.

“They’re all right” you always said

“But we need them to be strong boys, and for that they need to eat well!” Bo exclaimed as Vincent nodded in agreement with his own twin.

“They’ll be strong. Have you seen their fathers and mother?” you smiled

The advantage of living with three men was they could take care of the kids and of the house and let you rest. Bo loved to take care of you and to wash you too.

Vincent enjoyed spying on you when you were with the boys. He loved when you were talking to them with so much love in your words and voice. He was so relieved to know that his baby boys were going to grow up in a loving family, even though they were surrounded by killers.

Bo was calling you “mamma” pretty much all the time now.

Lester once asked you how it was to be the matriarch of the family and Vincent was a lot more obedient to you than he used to be. If Bo was calling for him, he wouldn’t move, but if it was you, he was there in a flash.

You became the head of the family and your husbands made it clear that they couldn’t wait for you to get pregnant again because “the twins needed siblings to be protective of”

Thanks to you, the brothers knew that even killers deserve a happy family life.