#(i personally fill it with as much water as i can and dump it out lile 4-6 times but just MAKE SURE THERES NO MORE ALCOHOL)

[bunnyboy-juice]

ngl. every time i see someone talk about a fairly standard/innocuous bong or pipe that isnt that structurally complex and they talk about the way it would be "impossible" to keep it clean my concern for the ways y'all treat your glass (and therefore your lungs) rises by 10 notches........

[simpingforheros]

Jason’s Wife?!

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Meet Mrs. Todd?! Jason got eloped and he doesn’t intend on sharing his blushing bride just yet.

Warnings: SMUT, Fluff, Established Relationship, Eloping, Jason being an ass to his family (for good reason), Jason calling Reader Ma (can’t remember who wrote about that, please tag them because I love this headcanon), P in V, unprotected sex (don’t advertise for the unsafe sex, put some breading on yalls chicken before dumping it in oil) , Oral (m receiving), Body Worship, Phone/Facetime during the deed, Exhibition Kink, Mating Press, Slight Breeding Kink, Degradation, Praise, crying kink??,TOXIC-ish And POSSESSIVE! Jason Todd is back, Traumatizing Dick again.

Author’s Note: Thank you guys so much for the praise I got on my last Jason Todd Fanfic! I didn’t know you guys would like my first smut that much so I made a part 2. Enjoy your next fix you horny bastards (jk I love you guys )

AN: This is Part 2 to Jason’s Girl??, so go read that for some context. Also a quick shout out to the mutual who started my spiraling decent into his madness, @jjenthusee , who was the main inspiration because of their amazing artwork! Also I’m sorry this was late and I don’t update as often, I’m in my second semester in a health major and I’m stumped man. I’ll update when I can I promise.

A/N: Part 3>>> Jason Broke What??

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jason Todd is a lot of things. He’s known for bad things and good things. It depends on who you ask.

A menace, a murderer, a zombie, an asshole, etc.

A son, a brother, a hero….

But there’s two things everyone can agree on.

1). He’s a good boyfriend.

For the last 6 months since Jason finally revealed his secret girlfriend of two years, the Bat Family learned just how much of a better person Jason was when (Y/N) was around.

His voice was softer and kinder to others. His temperament was more patient and his fists stayed loose. Her presence acting like a balm to sooth his soul as soon as he feels her comforting hand on his skin.

There were obvious moments of trouble, such as little squabbles or one gets snappy at the other, but normally they sort it out. Even if Bruce and the rest of the family didn’t know her for long, they knew that she had the backbone to handle Jason and give him what he needed without babying him.

Jason even shows his love for her in goofy ways, such as wearing matching shirts or color coordinated outfits. The two are now known for their Friday date nights and lazy Saturdays where they don’t wanna be disturbed. Their late night rides or their silent evenings where either a book or controller is in hand.

Red Hood is known for lingering around certain streets where she would be at when she had to work late, and he always had a bottle of water or granola bar he ‘mysteriously appeared’ out of thin air.

Jason was known for being proud of building the healthiest relationship he’s ever had with someone who didn’t fall in love with him because he was Bruce Wayne’s son, or Batman’s protege. She fell in love with Jason Peter Todd and all he was.

Which leads to the one thing that the family also knew him for.

2) Jason Todd would not tell anyone when he dropped down on one knee and asked (Y/N) to be his wife.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The proposal was a spontaneous to say the least.

Their usual Saturday routine of laying on the couch, too exhausted from the week to move. Jason laid on the opposite side as his beloved, her feet dangling off to the side of his hips as his own rested behind her shoulders. They both had a book in as they enjoyed their silence. The only noise coming from the soft patter of Frank coming over to lay on his adopted father.

The tabby cat that Jason claimed to not like despite the male cat clinging to him like glue. The cat jumped onto his stomach with a deep groan emitting from him. A soft giggle filled the room as she sets her book down and pulls the feline to her.

“I still don’t understand why my cat likes you more than me.” She comments as she strokes the tabby’s fur.

Jason scoffs as he carefully rolls off the couch and onto his feet. “Probably to spite me.”

He heads to the kitchen to grab them a drink as he hears one comment that seemed to change everything in one second.

“What’s gonna happen when we have a kid? Would you think they would prefer you over me or would we have another Frank?…”

The question was a hypothetical one, a normal one couples would ask just to make sound in the air. Jason would have probably answered light heartedly with a kiss or a smart ass comment to make her laugh, but it felt different. He felt different.

There wasn’t a ‘if’ in the question like it would or wouldn’t happen, but a definite of ‘when’ it would happen. Jason knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Hell, he managed to not fuck up a relationship he kept hidden for 2 years. He knew he wanted to marry her the moment he decided to open up and let her into his life by moving her in and introducing her to his family.

So, even if it was on an impulse, Jason returns back into the living room and as he placed their drinks on the coffee table as he kneels on the floor beside the couch. (Y/N) sits up as she smiles at him, unaware of the decision he made.

“Penny for your thoughts, Todd?” She asked playfully as she offers him an imaginary penny in between her pinched fingers.

Jason smiles as he takes her out stretched hand before kissing the back of it.

“Marry me.”

The seriousness in his eyes made her playful attitude dissolve to disbelief.

“What?…”

“I wanna marry you, (Y/N)…You are the everything I could ever want and don’t deserve. But I can’t imagine building a life like the one we have with anyone else. You are one of the few lights this dark world has and I wanna love and protect you for the rest of our lives.” Jason explains as he nervously massages her hand as his eyes shined with deep love and affection. “Even if I don’t have a ring yet and we are in our pajamas, will you accept me and let me become yours forever?”

Tears streamed down her face as she nods frantically. Her arms quickly wrapping around Jason’s neck and pulling him into a kiss.

Jason melts into her and begins to move to be on top of her on the couch until a sharp hiss makes him stop.

“Quiet, Frank…” Jason grumbles at the cat.

“Daddy is trying get some sugar from Mama~”

+++++++++++++++++

A week later, Alfred appeared extra peppy for the day. His duties were quickly done before the family was awake and his fidgeting gotten everyone concerned. Alfred was the normally level-headed gentle hand of the house, so seeing him so giddy made everyone nervous.

It wasn’t until he surprisingly left in one of his better suits and a gift bag that the rest of the Wayne Family just decided that he may be going to an event or some kind.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Tim asks his younger brother from behind a book.

Damian shrugs as he says, “How should I know?”

The answer wouldn’t come until later that evening. Alfred came back with both the brightest smile and red swollen eyes. In his hands were a single pale pink rose and a camera as he scurries to the study.

Tim, Dick, and Damian, who were scattered around the living room, followed out of curiosity. What’s gotten Alfred this way? An old flame? The thought of Alfred getting down and dirty made the boys shudder before they continue to the study and ultimately down to the Batcave.

“Yo, Alfred.” Dick calls out as he exits the elevator.

Alfred stood by the large chair over looking the Batcomputer as Bruce’s hulking form peaked over the leather. The clicking of the mouse playing in the background as Alfred turns his head to address Dick.

“Yes, Master Richard?” He says. In his hand was the camera with cables connecting it to the computer.

“Where have you been? You kinda left in a hurry…”

Tim jumps in as he says, “I mean, we aren’t trying to be rude, but you did seem kinda jumpy this morning.”

Damian’s words cut through the other two like ice as his eyes look at the monitor.

“Did Todd and his woman get married?”

Dick and Tim look back at Damian before their shocked expressions look up to the monitor. Their eyes widen in disbelief at the image before them.

Standing in a suit was a an absolutely beeming smile was Jason Todd with his hands interlocked with (Y/N), who was wearing a white dress. The dress didn’t look like the traditional floor length gown. Instead it was a backless chic dress with a bow on the back. Her hair was down and decorated with pearl ornaments as a matching ribbon choker was around her neck with a single aged pearl on it.

In their interlocked finders, a familiar set of rings shined . Martha Wayne’s sparkling diamond engagement ring and her wedding band was on (Y/N)’s finger as a matching wedding band was on Jason’s finger.

The surroundings didn’t look like a typical wedding venue with flowers and ribbons with a crowd of people. It was a courthouse, Gotham City Courthouse. On (Y/N)’s side stood Alfred holding a pale pink bouquet that was most likely the bride’s. What surprised them the most was a smiling Bruce on Jason’s side, a look of pride on his face that he rarely shown.

The boys break out of their shell as Dick complains.

“This can’t be real… Jason and (Y/N) got married without telling any of us….AND YOU LET JASON HAVE MARTHA’S RING!!” Dick snaps as his irritation grew. “You said I was gonna have it.”

Bruce sighs as he says, “I said that before you cheated on both of your girlfriends with each other.”

Alfred chuckles as he says, “And Master Jason specifically stated that he only wanted me and Master Bruce there.”

Tim frowns as he asks, “Why weren’t we invited?”

Alfred gives the boy a sympathetic look before reciting, “Miss (Y/N) and Jason only wanted a small ceremony and off what he said, ‘Damian makes (Y/N) uncomfortable when he calls her Jason’s woman and a distraction. Dick is plain out not invited because of reasons he knows why. And Tim can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life, so he’s not invited.’”

Damian tsks as he says, “I wouldn’t have wanted to go anyways.”

Dick was flustered as the images of the incident Alfred was referring to. He still can’t get her moans out of his head…

Tim pouts and says, “I’m gonna remember this…But why was Bruce invited then?”

Bruce responds with a smirk , “Because I was asked to give away the bride.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As soon as the newly weds returned their apartment, the lust sprinkled down like hale. Her well manicured hair was now messy as his hands held her head. His mouth devouring her moans as her own lips kept up with his pace.

Her fingers desperately removing his tie as the shrilling ring of Jason’s cell phone fills the air. He ignores it in favor of trailing tongue against his bride’s as she slings off the tie.

“Gonna answer that?” She mumbles as his mouth begins to trail down her jawline. Jason doesn’t answer as his hands scoop up under her thighs to pick her up. Her giggles were music in his ears as he says,

“It’s probably just Tim or Dick. Probably bitching about the wedding…”

Jason carries his wife through the threshold of their apartment hallway as his lips remained on hers. Their vows sealed in teeth and tongues as he expertly guided them into the bedroom.

His phone finally stopped ringing as he places her on the bed. Hands groping and pulling off of clothing as he unwraps her down to her underwear and stockings. His mouth hot against her breast as she pushes his now unbuttoned shirt down his shoulders.

His other hand dipping into her underwear as he flicks her erected nipples like a guitar. Her sweet music filling the room as he’s met with a creamy cunt under her white thong.

“Fuccck, ma..” He moans against her breast. Jason pulls away with a devilish smirk as he runs his finger over her sopping folds, carefully avoiding her hole and clit. “I can’t tell what I like more…your pretty tits or your sloppy cunt…”

(Y/N) feels the wave of shameful arousal fill her stomach as she whines out, “Stop teasing me, baby. It’s our wedding day and you’re acting like a jackass…”

Her body jolts as he pinches her clit. Her hips jerking as she moans at the sensation. Jason had a look of faux sympathy before mumbling against the valley of her breasts.

“Oh, you’re right…” His voice barely audible to her as he begins to rub heart shaped patterns on her clit, making sure to dip down to her gasping pussy as he dips down. “I’m not acting like a good husband, ain’t I? Let me make it up to you, Mrs. Todd.”

His lips attached to her unabused nipple before his middle finger finally dips into her pulsing hole. His groan accentuated by the scraping of his teeth against her sensitive flesh. The feeling of her cunt sucking his one finger in making him light headed as her moans ringed out.

“Jason…stop teasing me…I want you…” She begs as her hips try to meet the thrust of his finger. He growls at her bossiness before yanking his finger out of her pulling her panties down her thighs.

Her eyes glared at him for the loss of stimulation before he quickly pops her pussy lightly. The wet slap of skin making her cringe in embarrassment before Jason begins to leave a trail of open kisses and bites down her body. Making sure to pay special attention to the matching tattoo on her hip before he mumbles to her with a lazy smile.

“Your wish is my command.”

Before he could dig into his meal, the shrill ring of his phone invades the space. He yanks his phone out of his pocket and looks at the screen before declining the call. He tosses the phone onto the bed as he glares at the offending device.

“Stupid Dick..” He groans before a soft hand on his face draws him back to her. Her gentle touch bringing peace to his mind as she pulls him up to press a soft peck to his lips.

His mind goes blank as she gently lures him to stand before she kneels down, trailing kisses down his exposed chest and his scars. Her love poured into his body as her lips traced his autopsy scars. Her eyes shining so pretty as she presses an extra long kiss to his matching tattoo on his Adonis belt.

The silent vow that was made a year and a half into dating on a drunk night out with Roy.

‘I am hers and she is mine’

“Let me be a good wife to you, Mr. Todd.” She whispers against his skin. Her breath like hot fire before her hands snake off his belt and trousers. Her mischievous eyes gleaming in lustful delight as Jason’s lip curls in between his teeth. His eyes almost glowing as she presses her warm lips against his clothed tip. His hand fisting into her hair as he hisses at her.

“Don’t you fucking tease me…”

*RING* *RING*

Jason glares at the phone before he snatches it up. He sees the familiar notification as his own image shown on the phone. FaceTime.

“Answer it.”

“What?” Jason asks in confusion before looking down to her. His surprise was suppressed with a hiss as she pulls his hard cock out of his underwear. Her hand lazyily stroking him as she gives him a look of faux innocence.

“Answer it. It’s rude to ignore family..”

Jason feels a smirk curled onto his face as he realizes what she wanted. His dick hardened to iron as he remembers why he fell for her.

She was just as fucked as he was.

With that, Jason schools his face as he answers the phone with an annoyed expression.

“What?” He says as the image of his brother appears on his phone screen.

Dick glares at Jason before snapping at him. “You got fucking married?! Without inviting any of us?!”

“Didn’t Alfred tell you why we didn’t want you guys there?” Jason asked in as much annoyance as he can muster as he felt the wet pull of lips around his cock.

His hand gripping her hair kept her from getting more than his tip in as he hides his reaction. Her tongue licking his tip like a kitten wanting milk.

“But we are family for fucks sake.”

Jason’s actual annoyance getting the best of him as he hisses,

“I’m sorry, but I recall you trying to fuck my wife.”

“THAT WAS BEFORE I KNEW YOU WERE DATING HER!!”

Jason becomes distracted as (Y/N) starts sucking him off. Her drool and his precum slowly beginning to coat her mouth and hand as it strokes what she can’t fit into her pretty mouth.

His brow furrowed as his pleasure and annoyance started to mix on his face. Jason decides to get some payback on both his wife and brother as he slyly mentions.

“Oh but you had no problem rubbing one out when I sent those videos.”

He pulls her closer to his pelvis to muffle her surprised moan. If he wasn’t on the phone, he would degrade her like a slut with how she acts when she remembers being recorded. Her cheeks hollow as Dick’s jaw drops as Jason mentions the videos.

“I-I..”

“Admit it.” Jason says, his voice grew more taunting. “You probably still jack off to the videos because you’re nothing but a loser who cheats on any good woman he gets because you’re scared of attaching to someone.”

Jason can feel her eagerness grow as she sucks harder, actually pulling him as deep into her throat as she can. He almost wanted to both laugh at how cute she was as she gagged around him and coo at how proud he was of her. Her jaw was gonna be hurting like a bitch either way.

Dick’s baffled expression almost made it better as his eyes shined with shame over what Jason knew to be true.

“That’s why Bruce gave me Martha’s ring.” Jason says as he forces (Y/N) to take him all the way down her throat. Her nose pressing into his light patch of black hair as Jason says. “fuck…I can fuck (Y/N) like I fucking hate her guts and she would take it because she knows I would rather swallow glass than fuck anyone else like I do her. To even love anyone halfway as I do her would be a sin…”

The fluttering feeling of her throat as her nails digged into his thigh affirming his conviction.

“I’m not afraid to get attached… As long as she lives, I’ll never let her go…”

He hangs up before Dick can respond as he yanks her back by her hair. Her coughing and gasping for air as she whine painfully at both the lost of his cock in her mouth and the painful grip on her scalp.

Jason releases her hair before kneeling beside her on the floor. His expression tender as he cups her face. Her light makeup look from the wedding was now smudged off with her mascara flowing down her face with her tears. Her lips puffy and wet from his assault on her mouth. Her body littered in forming bruises from his teeth. Her cunt sloppy and leaking a clear sheen down her thighs. Her cheek leaning into his palm as her eyes shined at him with nothing but love and desire.

“Fuck…” He groans before crawling inbetween her legs as he pushes her to lay down on the floor. His mouth back on hers as his throbbing erection lightly dragged against her fluttering pussy. The head catching her clit despite the watery resistance as she whimpers into his mouth.

“You look so pretty like this…” Jason says before sticking his tongue down her throats. Their tongues tangling for a moment before his hands cup her face and pull her away. “You feel it, don’t you?”

She whines as his hips rolled against hers. Her cunt angry as it fluttered around nothing. His nearly red dick twitching as it desires salvation in her temple as Jason breathlessly whimpers.

“Feel how bad I need you baby? Fuck I can’t stand it. I wanna fuck you every day so I can see you look like this.” He says as he wraps his hand his member. He slaps her pussy with it twice before dragging his head over her entrance, the heavy appendage dipping in slightly as he says.

“I wanna ruin you so good. You’re such a good pretty girl that I want to ruin and make as fucked up as me…”

Her gasps fill the room as he starts to bully his tip into her. Even though they were both well experienced with each other, every time she takes him feels like the first time with that delicious stretch.

His unusually talkative mood doesn’t let up as he pushes his hips into her, forcing her to take him.

“You’re so gorgeous…” He whispers as he pulls her legs over his shoulders as he grasps her hips, forcing them up as he starts to fill her to the hilt. “God, this pussy is unbelievable…gonna fill her up everyday and eat her out every night…”

His thrusts start off slow but hard as her hands desperately held onto what bit of Jason she could as he fucked her like a doll. Her whimpers and moans filling the air as the sticky sound of his balls smacking her ass.

His hot breath tickles her ears as his hips develop the torturous pattern of pistoling into her like a hard buck before rolling in a deep and filling thrust. Her eyes filling with tears and brain fog as he filled her lust sick brain with praise.

“Such a good little wife…a sweet little thing with a nice soft body for me…” He groans as his pace becomes brutal. His precision and memory impeccably beats anything he learned as a vigilante as he assaults her G-spot. Her eyes rolling back as lighting strikes her the brain as she begins to cry.

“Fuck. Fuck. fuck…” she sobs incoherently as Jason licks the tears off her face.

“You look so hot when your cry…” Jason moans as his thrusts start to become more sloppy. His reaches between them as he rubs tight circles on her clit as he thrusts harder into her soft cunt.

“Will you cry some more please?” He’s asked in a cruel tone. His eyes blown out with desire as he lets his full weight pin her down under him. His added weight making her pinned as she cries. Her stomach tightening at the overwhelming presence of him and his cock destroying her insides.

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, Ma…” He says as his own whimpers fall through. “Gonna watch you get swollen and carry a little perfect baby and know that you’re mine…that no one can love you like me… ain’t that right?”

Her impending orgasm blocking off all rational thoughts as her mouth hangs open. His hand pulls from her clit to her frustration and grabs a hold of her jaw. Forcing her to look at him as he says harshly.

“Who do you belong to ,Pretty Girl?”

Her eyes widen as she says, “You…I belong to you baby…”

Jason smirks as he starts thrusting faster. Her shrieks just music in his ears as she falls off the edge. Her vision clouded as white flashes in her vision. Her body nearly convulsing as her cunt squeezes Jason into his own orgasm. His warm seed flooding her quivering womb as he presses a kiss into her neck.

The pair remained still for a moment as they gasped for air. The natural chill of the room causing them to tremble at the stimulation. Her small hand moving first as she grabs his hand, her fingers playing with the gold band on his finger as she whispers.

“My husband…” A soft satisfied smile on her lips as Jason grins widely into her neck as he mumbles.

“All yours, Mrs. Todd.”

**********************

AN: Yea I didn’t know how to end this. 😭 I hope you guys like it because I’m not too sure if the smut is good or not. Let me know what you think as I’m trying to clear out the drafts. Again, Thank you @jjenthusee for inspiring these two fanfics and for being a great mutual.

*******************

@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE THE THEFT, COPYING, REPOSTING, AND PLAGIARISM OF MY WORK ON THIS SITE OR OTHER SITES WITHOUT CREDIT OR PERMISSION.

[tinyluvs]

Can I get a fic of Reader slapping Spencer's butt for the first time randomly while he is making coffee or walking by and he does know how to react and Reader thinks his confusion is the funniest thing ever. (Up to you if you want to extend it further iykyk)

the mental image this gave me is *chefs kiss* tyyyy so much

the smell of coffee starts to fill spencer's apartment, you give a small sniff to the air, trying to figure out what coffee pods he's using but to no avail, you can't work it out from the bed

with a yawn, you wander down the hallway, smiling to yourself when the sound of classical music pours out from a distant radio, "morning," you hum as you round the corner into the kitchen

spencer startles slightly but turns, back resting against the countertop as he looks at you, all gentle eyes and a soft smile, "morning honey, coffee?" he asks, tilting his head slightly

"please," you answer simply, pulling yourself up onto the corner of the counter. you start to sway to the music, not a personal choice but definitely not the worst thing you could be listening to early in the morning

you watch as spencer finds one of your mugs and one of the pods he had bought specifically for you, "do you want breakfast?" he asks, pushing the mug under the stream of hot water

"no thanks angel, just coffee for now," you mumble through another yawn. he hums, acknowledging your answer while his back is turned towards you.

the coffee machine splutters quietly and seconds later spencer's pushing your coffee mug along the counter with a gentle smile and a nod.

you mornings are always the same. you get your coffee, silently sipping it while your boyfriend moves around the kitchen, making his breakfast without saying a word, just the radio playing softly

by the time you're done with your coffee, spencer has already finished his cereal. you hop off of the counter when he starts to roll up his sleeves, kitchen sink filling with warm water

"thanks pretty boy," you giggle, finally feeling alive and not like you're sleep walking. you reach round one side of his body, dumping the mug into the sink before passing behind his back and without thinking, you slap his ass, not hard but just hard enough to make a sound

spencer makes a noise you've never heard before, a mix of a grunt, shriek and a shout, which makes you jump and whip around to face him again, "what was that? what is wrong with you?" he gasps, eyes wide as his hand flaps to turn the taps off

"have i never slapped your ass before?" you ask slowly before biting down on your bottom lip as you attempt not to laugh at the look of pure horror on his face

his eyes somehow widen even further, just for a second, his head shaking slightly, "what? no!" he huffs, brushing the butt of his trousers with both of his hands

the whole ordeal is too much and it forces you to break out laughing, your hand on the counter as you double over, "i'm sorry," you struggle out between a cackle and a cough

"no you're not," spencer grumbles, arms folding over his chest, "why on earth would you do that?" he asks, seriously, glaring at you fiercely.

it takes longer than you'd like to admit before you're recovering, standing up straight, hands wiping a stray tear off of your cheek, "it's just something people do when they're in relationships, spence," you explain

your boyfriend looks at you completely unconvinced, "why?" he asks again and you're sure you can almost see the cogs turning in his brain

you shrug, "because, people like it, i don't know," you take a step towards him and he takes a step back causing you to snicker, "why, didn't you like it?"

"no!," he shrieks too fast but then his eyes soften and he thinks, hard, "actually, i don't know, it surprised me too much," he says quietly, a red blush passing over his cheeks quickly

your laughing and giggling subsides, "want me to do it again?" you ask, softly, not wanting to make him feel embarrassed about anything

"not now,' spencer says slowly, starting to back away from you, "would probably be awkward now, right? right,” he asks through a nervous chuckle as you start to stalk after him

you hum, not a yes or a no as your eyes travel down to his hands, moving to cover his butt, "spence, i want a kiss, i'm not going to attack you," you do giggle this time

spencer makes a slight oh sound before crowding into your space for kisses, lots of little ones, tasting like coffee before he's kissing you a little longer and slightly deeper. he gets distracted, his hands sliding over your waist, just like you knew he would

"aha!" you cry, victorious, as both of your hands slap at his ass before he knows what's happening. you turn on your heel as he gasps, loudly, taking off back towards the bedroom

"i'll get you," he shouts, only a few steps behind you. it's your turn for your hands to shield your butt now, zigzagging your way down the hall until you're launching yourself into the air and landing on the bed, pressing your back down into the mattress with a giggle

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

+

i like to think that spencer does like it, eventually. blushes when you walk past n gently tap at his ass BUT going up stairs in front of you gives him the FEAR to the point you just tease him about it

[amourane]

cry for me

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp, enemies but their fwbs??

w/c: 0.8k

summary: you hated theodore nott but why now are you on your knees for him?

warnings: explicit sexual content, degradation, name calling, dacryphilia

a/n: i love theo sm and i'm currently writing an e2l fic with him so this is just me testing the waters! <3

If you were given the chance to either eat worms for the rest of your life or stay in a room with Theodore Nott, you’d choose to eat worms. There was a tiny part of you that knows that you shouldn’t be mean, afterall you’re known for being the sweetest person at Hogwarts, always willing to lend a helping hand to those who needed it.

Theo was just...cold. You didn’t think you’d ever seen the guy crack a smile, only smirks and devilish grins that can never mean something good. He was always lurking in the corners sometimes you wouldn’t even notice he’s there until he says something.

Hate was a strong word and you didn’t like to use it often. But you had grown up with Theo and it was always a constant apocalypse between the two of you. He had once given you a wilted flower on your birthday stating that it was to remind you that everything dies one day, including you. How could one person be so...morbid? It was safe to say that you really really disliked him.

So why were you here, on your knees, a moaning whimpering mess? Well maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought you did.

"Look at sweet little Y/n.” He cooed, grabbing your chin to look up at him, your eyes half shut as you pleaded for more. They were watering and your lips were flushed and glistening. “Who would’ve thought you were such a cock hungry slut. Suck."

At his command, you opened your mouth, tongue licking his tip. Your hands came up to palm his huge cock, whimpering at the girth between your fingers. Everything about Theo screamed seductive and, though you hate to admit it, you did find him irresistible. As he whispered more dirty words you found your panties soaking and he stuffed your face full of him and only him.

Your nose brushed his pelvis as you took him deeper, swallowing as you did. His cock filled your wet cavern, sliding into your mouth repeatedly. Your tongue swiped over the tip again, moaning around his length. The lewd sounds that filled your ears made your body purr in delight as your eyes fluttered shut. Theo threw his head back, his dark hair like a halo around him.

"Fuck-" He cursed, threading his fingers into your hair, pounding his cock into your mouth and you gagged, forcing yourself to breathe through your nose. "Such a fucking slut f’me, you like being my cum dump don't you? Like being used like the filthy whore you are whenever you're needed. Don’t worry I’ll make sure that nasty mouth is full of my cum angel."

The vulgar words he spat out always made your mind spin in a hazy world of lust. Tears leaked out of your eyes as you bobbed your head up and down, taking him as deep as you can. When he delivered a harsh thrust into your mouth, you found your body trembling from the force, your legs felt like jelly.

Your fingers slowly trailed towards your thighs, trying to discreetly open them but the Slytherin caught you. 

“Aww.” He mocked a wicked smirk spread across his face. “Does the cock whore want to touch herself? Are you that desperate of a slut, wait I already know the answer, of course you fucking are.” 

You felt his hands dig into the roots of your hair, tugging roughly and you felt the pain sing through your body. You felt your tears roll down your face, big fat drops as you cried from both pain and pleasure.

“Now you’re gonna be a good fucking girl f’me and keep your hands off what’s mine.”

His mean glare told you enough and without protest, you removed your fingers, placing both your hands on his thighs as you continued to suck, not wanting another punishment. 

The filthy words that spilled out of his mouth never stopped and you felt yourself growing wetter as he called you more names. As the pulsing of your pussy grew you couldn’t help but grow impatient at the stickiness between your thighs. His cock throbbed in your mouth and you knew he’s close. You suck him harder, continuing your little ministrations that you knew made Theo go crazy.

“Shit Y/n.” 

He moaned, feeling the tightness of your throat. A string of curses left his pink lips when he came and it filled your mouth, warmness spreading over your tastebuds and you swallow. His breath hitched when you gave him one last suck before opening your mouth. 

“Who knew the way to shut you up was to fill your slutty mouth with cum.”

When you release your cock, you rub your thighs together, nibbling your bottom lip. “C-Can I get fucked now?” Your voice is raspy and it came out croaky, something Theo adored. He smirked, bringing your face closer to his.

“You sure can, principessa.”

[lexluvsmegs]

Bet you could do better…

[Choso Kamo x fem!reader]

Synopsis ౨ৎ - After a recent break up, you search for comfort in the form of your long term best friend Choso. But what happens when he finds out the reason you weren’t all that into your ex is because he couldn’t make you finish?

Warnings ౨ৎ - smut ⭒ oral (f receiving) ⭒ Choso is basically so in love with you ⭒ dry humping ⭒ Choso cums untouched ⭒ a lil bit of fingering

Word count ౨ৎ - 1583

(18+ please if you’re a minor do not interact!)

—————————————————————————

You weren’t upset, per se, however you did find yourself fed up with the lack of manors in which men possess. You’re sat on your sofa, glass of wine in hand and your handsome friend to your left. You had known Choso for quite some time now. He was extremely shy in the earlier stages of your friendship: flushing at any physical contact, stuttering over his words when you asked any questions, his voice ever so breathless during late night calls… But he had grown since then - well, except for the last point - and found himself to be more comfortable and open in your presence. You could even call him your best friend.

So who better to call than said best friend when you’re down in the dumps over your most recent break up. You had always been open with Choso with almost every aspect of your life. Except one. You see, ever since you met Choso you’ve harboured a small crush on the man. Can you really blame yourself? However, you made a promise that you wouldn’t do anything to ruin the beautiful bond created between the two of you. So that was that.

You decided to invite Choso round for a drink. Of course Choso was down, and so here he is now, sat on your sofa nursing a beer in one hand and fiddling the string of his sweatpants with the other. He wasn’t wearing anything extravagant, but the compression shirt he was sporting did little to hide his mouth watering muscles. You’re surprised you didn’t jump his dick when he walked in. You had some serious self restraint.

Choso makes a humming noise, breaking the silence, as he turns to you, asking if you want a refill of your wine. You shake your impure thoughts and gladly accept, scooting closer to his figure feeling the warmth radiate off of him. “So.. how you feeling?” He asks apprehensively. You appreciate his concern but aren’t too sure you want to remember the man who you foolishly went out with. “Fine. Don’t even know why I gave him a chance” you laugh slightly, feeling the ever so familiar tipsy side effects of your drink. Choso stared at you, almost in a trance, as if he was deep in thought. He gives you a look you can’t quite decipher. “Why do you say that? I thought you found him attractive?” You take another sip then turn to face him. “He couldn’t satisfy me” it was blunt. Blunt enough to cause a deep red to coat the tips of Choso’s pierced ears at the sexual implication.

He clears his throat. Was that too much? But before your thoughts can spiral, he takes a quick glance down to your lips before returning his gaze to your own and replies “oh yeah? In what way?” His voice was low and shaky, unsure of the words coming from his mouth. The eye contact you’re both holding is intense, it causes you to subtly rub your legs together for any sort of relief. “Uh, he couldn’t make me finish” you finally choke out after the initial shock of his boldness wore off. The tension was thick. You knew he could feel it too as you saw him subtly shift his free hand to hide his crotch. Oh. You swallowed thickly. Could Choso really see you that way? You can only hope. You drag your sight away from his lap and back to meet his own, already staring at you like you were the only person to ever exist. Choso always looked at you like you were fine art, but this time it felt slightly different.

You don’t know what came over you. You were trying to fill the silence you swear but the alcohol really messed you up when you blurted out “I bet you could make me finish” it was a whisper but still loud enough for Choso to hear every word. Fuck, you’ve definitely taken it too far now. You open your mouth to apologise, but Choso cuts you off with a short“Please.”You didn’t have to wonder what he was begging for for long as he soon follows up with “Please, let me make you finish.” He looks so pathetic pleading like this and it makes you so unbelievably wet. You don’t offer a reply as you place your drink down and grab his face, pulling him down to meet you in a desperate kiss. He follows suit in hastily planting his drink down on the nearest surface and grabs your hips returning the same heat to the kiss. You open your mouth granting him access as he slips his tongue inside, tasting the bitter wine left behind.

You’re getting handsy, throwing a leg over to straddle Choso, hands moving to grip his hair as he lets out an angelic whine. God, you can’t get enough of this man. He starts bucking his hips up as you feel the outline of his cock rutting against your clothed cunt. You soon break apart from the kiss both parties moaning at the stimulation. “Fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanted this for so long. Y’dont know how many nights I’ve fantasised about this very moment” it comes out rushed, but fuck, that turned you on even more. Choso got off to you. Pride swells in your chest at the realisation and you decide to reward him by licking and sucking your way down his neck, making sure to focus on the one spot that caught his breath.

“P-please take this off, wanna see those pretty tits” who knew Choso had such a dirty mouth. You follow his request, bringing the top above your head and shimmying out of your shorts. He’s in awe, basically drooling at the sight of your plush breasts. You giggle at his reaction. “Now you’ve gotta take stuff off. Only fair” you tease his already flustered self as he scrambles to get fully undressed. He’s beautiful. Sculpted by the gods. His abs are so defined, making you want to ride them, and his pecs are big enough to bite. Now the only thing separating your wet cunt from his throbbing cock is the thin fabric of your panties. Your wetness is seeping through causing a slick sound to form as you grind down on his now bare dick.

Choso fumbles to remove your bra and watches as your tits fall free from the restraint. He wastes no time in taking one of your nipples into his mouth sucking at it as if he expects milk to pour out. This has you moaning and squirming as you drag your nails down his chest causing marks to form. He soon removes his mouth and replaces it with his fingers to keep the stimulation as he pants a “can I eat you out?” the pleasure has you speechless as you can only manage a nod at his request. He lays you down on your back, your limbs splayed lazily over the span of the couch. You’re impatiently awaiting Choso’s next move as he watches over you, he finally removes your panties and stares in awe at the view in front of him. “You are so beautiful” his words make you flush. “J-just hurry up” you reply, slightly embarrassed at your exposure. He lays down, coming face to face with your glistening cunt as he continues to mumble about how lucky he is and how pretty you are. When he finally takes an experimental lick you both let out desperate moans. “God, you taste so good. So sweet f’me” he spreads you open with both hands and takes your clit between his lips, sloppily lapping at your pussy causing you to clamp your legs around his head. Fuck, does he eat pussy like a champ. He’s got you squirming from the intense pleasure, his tongue teasing your entrance before going back towards your clit.

Choso can’t control himself, the sight before him is too hot to handle. He slowly starts to grind his dick against the fabric of your sofa. It’s so messy with the pre-cum spilling from his cock. He’s just as messy though, moaning shamelessly into your pretty, wet cunt with your juices all over his face as he chases his own release. It’s all getting too much as you grab onto Choso’s hair for dear life, practically humping his face, his nose bumping your clit. He can’t get enough of your taste, he think he may have just become an addict as nothing sweet could ever compare to the taste of you. Choso’s whines get more desperate and so do yours. “Fuck! Choso, gonna make me cum.” A pornographic moan leaves him at this statement, showing he was the same. Choso suddenly adds a finger, curling it up to hit the spot that made your toes curl. That was your breaking point as your orgasm came crashing down. However, Choso didn’t stop, lapping up your release as he finally comes to his own panting like a needy dog.

You both take some time to calm down from your highs and soon find yourself sat back on Choso’s lap. “Guess I was right then” you smirk, kissing him as a form of gratitude. He looks so cute like this, so fucked out and you’ve not even touched him properly. “Now it’s my turn to return the favour” you say with a giggle as you slowly make your own way down.

It’s gonna be a long night.

—————————————————————————

© lexluvsmegs 2024 ➳ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

PLEASE DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work.

Thank You, Beautiful People!

[chlix]

sharpest tool

bf! chan x fem! reader: chan doesn't love you like you love him. you're not planning on doing anything about it

genre: angst, suggestive (but not actually very fun or sexy)

word count: 2.9k

warnings/tags: toxic relationships/situationships, arguing, self-worth issues

a/n: this fic is inspired by "sharpest tool" off sabrina carpenter's new album! i heard it and immediately knew i wanted to write for it. i also plan on doing other songs off the album with other members but we'll see if i get to that before the album loses all relevance 💀

“What’s new with you then?” your coworker Seohyeon asks once the lunch rush dies down. You’re wiping spilled coffee off the bar and she’s pretending to reorganize the stacks by the till, but really, you’re both just trying to look busy while you recover from the last round of customers. Seohyeon has already bitched about her evil landlord and snitched on your manager for critiquing the way the new girl set up the cup display. Now, it’s your turn to overshare. Unfortunately, your life is scant of any juicy details.

“Nothing. You know I have no life outside this job,” you say.

“So not true,” she says. “What about that guy who keeps hanging around waiting for you to get off every day? How’s that going?”

You stiffen. “It’s going.”

She hums sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”

You drop your rag in the bucket of sanitizer water and take a long breath.

“It’s not bad. It’s not really anything right now.”

“You know, I mentioned how he’s always waiting for you, but I haven’t really seen him in a couple of weeks.”

“You and me both,” you mutter. Unwittingly, your hands drift to your phone in your apron pocket, hoping it’ll buzz and you’ll get a text from Chan, as if he’d sense you thinking about him and give you the attention that you’ve been craving. When you first met, the two of you had that kind of psychic connection. It was like you were of one mind. He was everything you wanted in a guy. He still is.

That’s what makes this all so difficult.

The idea of Chan using you as a warm body isn’t inherently distressing. Or, it wouldn’t have been, if he’d posed the idea initially. Maybe if he’d asked you for that up front, then you would’ve known better than to catch feelings. Or at least if you had, then you could take all the blame unto yourself for being softhearted, overly optimistic. He could be blameless. This would be easier if he was a bad person. Or maybe he is, and you just love him too much to care.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears,” Seohyeon says.

“There’s not much to say. We weren’t really even dating. I think. I mean, he doesn’t owe me anything.”

Seohyeon gives you a knowing look, and it makes anything else you were planning on saying stick in your throat.

“Get well soon, girl,” she says, and turns back to the till. You swallow, pick up the bucket of dirty water, and go to dump it out in the sink in the back.

Chan does not come in at the end of your shift and wait for you. Of course not. He does text you, though.

Hey, he says. It’s the first time he’s spoken to you in a week. The casual nature of it swallows you alive.

Hey

Busy tonight?

Never for you <3

My place? 8?

It’s almost pathetic of you to keep falling for the same old trick. Can it even be called a trick if you’re neither fooled nor impressed? You always knew you were just a placeholder, filling in the gaps for when he can’t have the girls he really wants. He doesn’t have to make it so obvious, though.

Placeholder. It’s one of those thoughts that as soon as it crosses your mind, you know you’ve already lost. You’re not sure if Chan realizes that’s what he’s turned you into. You can’t really blame him. You only recently realized it yourself. You’ve been hooking up for months, you’ve been hanging out with his friends, you’ve been posting each other and having cozy nights in with long conversations that last until the early morning. He’s your baby. You’re his girl. But you’re not his girlfriend. Six missing letters and suddenly, you’re the crazy one.

You wonder if Chan knows how these periods of long silence make you feel like a cheap lay, like someone he doesn’t even know. Maybe he does, and this is all an elaborate manipulation tactic that’s working distressingly well. Maybe he doesn’t know, and you’re projecting malice onto his thoughtlessness.

It doesn’t matter either way. You know it, and you’re still going to go.

Ok <3

You put your phone away and start walking to the bus. You need to go home and get ready.

You arrive at his apartment just before eight pm. He hates it when people aren’t punctual, and you hate it when he’s upset, so here you are, shaved and showered and dressed all pretty. You’ve developed a scarcity mindset around him- you need to make sure every time he sees you is perfect because the incidents are so few and far between. You need to look irresistible, so enticing that he’ll be begging to come see you again. It’s so pathetic that you piss yourself off on a daily basis.

You fix your hair and clothes, ring his doorbell. He answers the door, all smiles and muscle tees, and it almost makes you forget that you haven’t seen him since the last full moon. It’s like a thirst that doesn’t make itself known until that first drop of water.

“Hey, baby,” he says, drawing you into his arms. He kisses you deeply, not lustful but loving and you let yourself fall into it.

“Missed you,” he says, low in your ear. He smells like aftershave, like sandalwood and pine.

“Missed you more.”

He pulls you into his apartment and closes the door behind you so he can press you up against it and kiss you again. He licks into your mouth, and you let him, bringing your own hands up to cup his face. The barest bit of his stubble tickles against your palms. His body is warm and solid against you, it makes your knees weak, makes your heart race. For the moment, you forget every grievance you’ve ever had with him. You forget how upset you were at work today, and Seohyeon’s pity, and how empty your phone has been lately. The world outside the two of you might as well not exist.

Chan’s hands slide up under your shirt, pressed against your stomach. Your gut twists.

The illusion shatters.

You pull your lips away from him.

“Chan,” you say, trying to be authoritative, but you’re breathless. He moves away from your mouth and latches onto your neck, and your body reacts without your permission, arching into the touch, but you pull your hands away and press on his chest.

“Chan, stop.”

He lets you push him, taking a step back and looking down at you with blown wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just…not feeling it.”

“Right, sorry. Didn’t mean to pounce on you. We can move to the bedroom if you want?”

“No…” That sticky feeling is building in your throat again. “I’m just not really in the mood for sex at all, right now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward silence stretches between you. He’s just looking at you, unsure how to proceed, and you want to die a little more every minute.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll just- I’ll go-”

“No, wait!” He catches your arm as you go to turn away. “You don’t have to leave. I’m the one who’s sorry. You shouldn’t have to apologize for something like this.”

“Okay…”

He kisses your forehead again, affectionate and chaste. “I’m glad you came. I wasn’t lying about missing you, yeah? Let’s just have a chill night in.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll order in. It’ll be nice.”

You let out a long breath and pull him into a hug. He embraces you, and your ear ends up pressed against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming under his ear, soothing, reassuring.

Okay. Okay okay okay.

You try to have a good night, you really do. You want to be happy when you’re around him, but it’s like a switch has flipped in your head and it’s impossible to truly relax. He orders food from your favorite place without you having to even ask.

“You want your usual?” he asks.

“You still remember my usual?”

“I remember everything about you, love.”

You think about earlier, how he’d known to text you as soon as you got off work yet hadn’t made the effort to actually show up like he used to. You tell him your usual is fine and kiss him on the cheek.

When the food arrives, you curl together on the couch under blankets and put on some show as background noise. There was a drama you were watching together, but he doesn’t bring it up and neither do you. As he pulls up Netflix, you notice the title card in his Recently Watched, but you haven’t been over in so long that you know it can’t be from the last time you were together. He doesn’t pause, skipping over it completely to select another random thumbnail.

“This okay?”

You hum an affirmative and the Netflix logo appears on the screen, signaling the start of the episode. You eat your food and try to focus on how good it tastes instead of how leaden your stomach feels.

As the night wears on, you realize that he’s being cagey. He asks you questions about your life and your job, about your sister and her baby and your plans for the holidays. He’s always been a good listener, always attentive and empathetic and curious. He’s been good at getting secrets out of you as long as you’ve known him.

I’ve never told anyone this before, you would start sentences, but I feel like I can trust you.

You can, he’d respond. I’d never judge you. I care about all of you, even the parts you might not care about yourself.

Always so welcoming, so loving. It had you spilling your guts after only the third date.

I’m rambling, I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear about all my baggage.

Y/n, I want to know anything you’re willing to tell me. Communication is important in relationships. It builds strong foundations.

And yet here he is, only a few months later, dodging all your questions about where he’s been or what he’s been up to.

“How’s work?”

“It’s been alright.”

“You’re pretty busy around this time of year, aren’t you?”

Chan shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m used to it by now.”

You nod around the fork in your mouth, unsure how to continue the line of inquiry. You try again, another topic this time.

“Did you hear about that giant pile up downtown? There were like ten cars involved.”

“I haven’t been watching the news much lately.”

“Well what have you been watching?”

“I’ve kind of had other things going on. Not much time for leisure.”

“Right. You said you were busy with work.”

He doesn’t reply to this. You want to shrink into the couch cushions and coil inside one of the springs.

You eat in silence for a while, eyes flittering between the screen and his face. Once or twice, his phone will ding, and he’ll pick up and scroll through it, shoot back a quick reply. You don’t ask who’s contacting him. When he’s done, he sets his phone face down on the table, out of your reach.

When you’re both done, he takes the empty containers from you and goes to dispose them. His hair bounces as he moves, curling around his ears and the tops of his brows.

“Your hair’s getting long.”

“Is it?” He pulls at a loose curl, stretching it out in front of him critically. “Guess I should get it cut.”

“Nooo, I like it. It suits you.”

He glances at you shyly. “You think?”

“I know. You look adorable.”

“I can’t be walking around adorable. What would that do to my image?”

“Right. Mr. Tough Guy Bang Chan, who always has short hair and thick biceps. There’s a brand image to consider.”

“Exactly! I knew you’d understand.” His cheeks dimple in his smile, but it’s shaky, and it disappears as quickly as it came. “And anyway, I just don’t think…” He trails off.

“Don’t think what?”

Chan stays quiet for a while, lost in thought. You’re unsure whether or not to push, but before you can say anything else, he snaps out of it. He shakes his head as if to clear it and throws an apologetic look your way.

“Never mind. Just getting too into my head.”

Concerned, you rise from the couch and cross the room to his kitchen.

“Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you. I care about you.”

Chan isn’t meeting your eyes. “Just leave it alone, y/n. It’s stupid anyway.”

“Something bothering you could never be stupid.”

“I said just leave it alone.” His voice is harsh now, face hardened in the way he does when he’s not being nice anymore. He’s putting his walls up and you don’t understand why, and it’s tearing at you, the cumulative weight of all this distance.

“Okay. Whatever then.”

You turn around and start walking back towards the couch.

“Whatever?”

The audacity to sound offended after the way he’s been treating you.

“I can’t make you talk to me. If you don’t want to tell me anything then why keep asking?”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’ve been talking to you all night.”

“No, you haven’t. You’re shutting me out.”

“Shutting you out?” He sounds genuinely confused. You stop halfway back to the living room and turn to look at him.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

He lets out a short laugh and pushes his curly bangs away from his forehead, hands alight with anxious energy.

“Y/n I invited you over here. We’ve been talking and watching the show. I thought we were having a good night. Now I want to keep one thought to myself and I’m ‘shutting you out’?”

That same twisting in your gut starts up again.

“You’re making me sound so unreasonable.”

“I mean, can’t you see how this looks from my perspective?” He turns away from you and pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s developing a headache. Like he’s the one being tormented. “Sometimes I feel like you and I are living in different realities.”

It’s like a dagger in your chest. All your indignation leaves you, leaking out of you and pooling at your feet in a sad little puddle of self-respect.

“Don’t say that.”

“I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

You set out of your ring of self-loathing and approach the island where he is, still turned away from him. You reach out a shaking hand and turn him to face you. When you meet his eyes, you see frustration, confusion, and helplessness.

You’re a placeholder. You know it, Seohyeon knows it, the girl he’s been texting all night knows it. It’s possible Chan doesn’t.

That’s fine. You know it, and you’re in love with him anyway.

You press your hands against his chest, leaning up so you can look right in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “You’re right. I’ve been on edge lately; I didn’t mean it.” You smile, self-deprecating, embarrassed. “Forgive me?”

Chan lets out a long breath. He grabs your hand and kisses it, then keeps holding on to it, his grip strong and secure.

“Nothing to forgive. I’ve been all over the place too. But we’re here now, together. So let’s just relax, yeah?”

You nod. He leans down and kisses you. The twisting in your gut persists, but you don’t pull away until he does.

“Let’s go finish this episode,” he says, and goes to lead you both back to the living room.

The night feels like a failure. You can’t figure out why, but the thought of just finishing your show and then putting your coat and boots back on and leaving feels like accepting defeat. Your legs are unstable underneath you, but not in the way they were earlier, when Chan was kissing you like his life depended on it. Now, you are standing at the top of a very tall hill, fighting against gravity to remain upright on the slope.

Get well soon, girl.

You close your eyes tightly, then reach forward and grab the back of Chan’s shirt. He jolts, surprised, then turns back to you. You release his jacket as he turns and grab his hand instead, lacing your fingers together.

“Forget the show,” you say. “Take me to bed.”

His eyes widen. “Are you sure? Earlier you said-”

“I’m too in my head. You’re right. I should try to relax. I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You get on tiptoe and lean up to his ear and whisper. “You can make me feel better, right Channie?”

Chan’s fingers tighten around yours. When you lower yourself back onto your heels, he’s looking down at you with dark eyes. You push down your unease, leave it abandoned on the floor with your anger and ego and heartbreak.

“You’re sure.”

“Never surer. Unless you don’t want-”

He effectively silences you by sweeping you into his arms, lifting you up like you weigh nothing.

“Baby, you have no idea the things I want.”

You laugh, shocked at the display of strength, and wrap your arms around him as he carries you away. The last thing you see before he shuts the bedroom door is his phone on the table, vibrating with an unanswered call.

[onelittlespiral]

Hey, it's been pretty hard to motivate myself to write lately with my new job, so I want to reward someone who's doing a great job getting his work done lately. I want to give idesofrevolution a nice musky dudebro transformation he'll really love, and hopefully the mystery transformation gives me some more free time to be horny and creative.

Subject: Order #100690

Dear Fred,

Thank you for your recent purchase from The Spiral, home for all your transformation needs! Your order #100690 has been received and is on its way as we speak. Your order includes:

(1) Bro(Musk)_From_Friend(Online; Blog)

(1) Mystery(Self)

Please note that due to the subject’s history with transformations, delivery methods may be delayed or gradual. Expect fulfillment in 2-3 weeks.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

We knew you’d come around and round and round and round…

You couldn’t wait to hear back from The Spiral, checking your inbox every couple of hours for any updates on delivery. Training was slow and boring at the new office, so there wasn’t much to do besides sit through the standard HR videos on one monitor and scroll social media on the other. That was when you received an email notification. You opened it up, and excitement turns to disappointment. Just another boring diversity video. You pop it up on the side, plug in your headphones, and wait for the stock music and graphics to start. Except, this one is different. You are watching from a first person perspective as a man walks into a room and lies down on a couch. The camera captures his enormous pecs, hiding the rest of his torso, as they flex a little. You glance around the office, nervous about who may be watching. Something must be wrong, this can’t be your afternoon assignment. But your eyes are drawn back to the screen when the door opens again and another beautiful man graces the screen. Your eyes fix on his, as he leans into the camera for a kiss. You can almost feel his heat through the screen, and you’re soon relaxed in your chair, watching the show.

As he slowly grinds against you, you subconsciously begin to rub at your own crotch, simulating his movements. You begin to feel a horny fog fill your mind as you begin to buy into the fantasy, beginning to ignore your surroundings and forget about your coworkers. It isn’t long before your dick is fully out, imaging how good it feels to have his soft hands rubbing your hardening member. You don’t even notice how much you are beginning to leak pre-cum, synchronized with when he places his delicate lips on your cock and takes the whole member in one motion. You lean back in your chair and let the waves of pleasure relax your muscles. You begin to feel so heavy, as your arms grow tired of stroking. You place them behind your head, letting this experience overtake you as you continue to have your cock expertly worked by a pro. You begin to match his tempo, thrusting in time. Your grunts are getting deeper as you begin to get close. Your partner feels it coming, and steadies his tempo. He doesn’t want you to come too soon. But the fog in your brain is only intensify, leaving you more aroused by the moment. You aren’t able to hold it in much longer.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum in you, and you better not miss a drop,” you say, and his eyes show understanding. You reach out and tug at his hair, taking control of the tempo as his eyes begin to water. But he doesn’t have to worry for too long. You are soon dumping your load in his stomach, and he cums hands free in turn, as the director gets the money shot.

“CUT! That’s a wrap.”

Your partner gets up and wipes himself down. You just grab your shorts and sit back down on the couch.

It’s going to be a long day of shooting, but you love it. At least here you get to be horny and own it. And, more importantly, get paid. Could be worse. You could be stuck at some stuffy office job. Just then your phone buzzes with a notification. One of your friends just posted, let’s see… oh, @idesofrevolution. Good thing too, you had been worried about Frost. Annnnd a second notification from your management company, The Spiral. They were sending you some confirmation info… something about the Doctor himself coincidentally enough. Seemed to be some details about a movie scene or something meant for him, so probably some mix up. Let’s see what it says…

Dr. Frost was has some background knowledge on our methods from years of research into his own transformation methods. Consequently we took a more gradual approach. Slowly, we began introducing neural waves throughout his day to prime him. In his home, in his car, on his blog, we implemented subtle messages about growth. About muscle. About musk. After all, who needs to waste so much time showering every day? When his deodorant sticks keep going missing, what was the point in buying more? After all, he no longer had much time to go to the store, as he logged off from work and drove straight to the gym every day. At first he wondered why he was suddenly so worried about his health. But as we continued to amplify our waves, he soon stopped worrying. It was natural to want to be strong. It was natural to reek. It was natural to feel good, bro. I’m in control.

As his musk intensifies, he is only conditioning himself to become more and more self indulgent. We began alternating frequencies, sending his testosterone through the roof, driving a new crop of hair growth and keeping his balls plenty full. Between his pit stench and constant gym pump, he is keeping himself at a near constant leak of pre-cum, and quickly soiling any attempt at covering himself up. Not that he cares. He hasn’t showered in a few weeks, only allowing himself tongue baths from whatever gym bro he catches staring and manages to get into his truck for a make out sesh. His memories are evaporated, nothing more than a sweat stain on his favorite cap. His brain is so high on his own supply, our neural waves had to be amplified to get through his brain fog. Hell, he can hardly form a proper sentence, bro. We have taken the liberty of updating his blog to more accurately reflect his new interests. His stories have been replaced with his thirst traps and progress photos. We are satisfied with his progress and have left him to continue his journey of his own, new and improved, free will.

You should really reach out to him sometime. See if he wants to take his modeling career in a new, more exciting direction. Could be fun to suck that musky cock…

Subject: Order #100690 Fulfilled

Dear Fred,

Your order has been fulfilled. We know you have many options, but thank you for supporting The Spiral.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

[kaliforniahigh]

You so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby - n.f.

I got this prompt in my inbox from a sweet anon and I just couldn't not write about it!

Warnings: talks of pregancy, holidays, family interactions, smut (unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie), mention of birth control. This is very fluffy!

WC: 4k words.

Requests are closed for now.

Every year, you and Folio switched with whose family you were going to spend the holidays with. Since this year you spent Thankgiving with his family, you decided to spend Christmas with yours.

Since it was a hectic year, for both you and him, you didn't have time to meet the new addition to your family. Your little niece was born just a few months ago, and while you got to interact with her and your sister over Facetime almost everyday, you were craving to see her in person.

You sent her gifts all the time, and your sister filmed her "opening" them, and you and Folio melted at the sight everytime. Your husband would also interact with her, and his big toothy smile and little baby voice, never failed to make your insides tingle at the thought of him doing it with your own baby.

With your sister pregnant, the questions of when you were having a baby of your own ceased for a few months. It wasn't that long ago that you and Folio had gotten married, and you both agreed to enjoy the married life without a baby for a while. Besides, his schedule was always busy with the band, and he didn't think it was fair to you. He wanted to be a present father, and not dump all the weight on your shoulders.

You were currently getting ready to leave for your roadtrip to your hometown. You both decided it was time for him to take you on a trip on his bike, since he went with his friends all the time, but never with you.

Truth be told, he was a little nervous. As much as he would be a careful driver, especially since he had you with him, he never really trusted the other drivers on the road.

But you looked so cute with your helmet on - that you personalized just for this occasion - and the excited smile on your face, that he couldn't help but feel excited himself.

It wasn't too long of a drive to your parents' house anyways, so it was easir for him to agree to this.

"It's going to be funny seeing you survive with only that", he pointed to your backpack. You had to be really careful not to overpack, since you didn't have much space to carry a lot of things.

"I have a few things in my parents' house. I think I'll be fine", you winked at him, and he patted his motorcycle for you to get on.

Putting on his helmet, Folio revved up the engine and peeled off from your driveway.

The drive was smooth, and you only stopped to eat something and use the bathroom. In a matter of few hours you and Folio were parking inside your parents' garage.

Stepping out of the motorcycle and taking off both of your helmets, both you and Nick stretched your limbs and heard your joints crack, which made you giggle at the synchronization of the noise.

Soon enough, your parents were greeting you with warm hugs, and urging you inside and away from the crispy winter air.

"You can put your bags away in the guest bedroom. Your sister is going to be here soon", your mom told you, filling up two cups of water for you and Nick, who took it gladly.

"I'm so excited to see little Ava. I'm already letting you know that I'm hogging the baby the entire time" you said, taking a sip and letting a little smile take over your face.

"She's very hard to resist. She already has you dad here in the tip of her fingers", your mom said, giving your dad a few taps on the shoulder. He tried to argue and say that it isn't true, but you heard no conviction at all in his voice.

"It's your first granddaughter. It's completely fine to spoil her as much as you want", Folio pointed out. He had a big grin on his face at the whole interation.

From the first time he met your parents, they got along really well. Your dad also being a big fan of fishing and motorcycles made it incredibly easier. Since then, Folio has been to a few fishing trips with your dad and his friends, while you and your mom have some mother and daughter time together.

"She's the first, but surely not the last, right?", your mom pointed out, trying to be subtle, but failing miserably. You and Folio looked at each other, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips, already knowing where she was getting at.

"We're gonna take a shower", you evaded the conversation, grabbing Folio from the shoulders and leading him upstairs.

"Separately", you heard your father say, messing with the two of you.

Setting your bags on the double bed, you went about unpacking and storing everything away, while Folio made his way to the bedroom to shower.

Ever since you moved away, your parents turned your bedroom into an office for your dad, so, everytime you and Folio came over, you had to take the guest bedroom. You never complained, since it had a double bed, instead of the single you slept in until the day you moved away for college.

You were distracted when Folio stepped back into the room. He was shirtless and had a towel wrapped around his waist. His torso glistened with the droplets of water that he never bothered to dry.

"Why are you walking around in only a towel?", you questioned, as he closed the door to the bedroom behind him.

"I forgot my clothes here", he observed, pointing to the shirts you were arranging in the drawer. You snickered, because of course he forgot. "I made sure there was no one in the hallway, don't worry, baby", he assured you, grabbing you by the hips and bringing your lips together in a kiss.

Before it could go any further though, you separated from him. "I told you, no funny bussiness in my parents' house", you lightly slapped him on he chest.

"Can I not kiss my woman? Damn", he acted upset, but the grin taking over his face told you he was teasing you more than anything.

"I can feel your hard dick through the towel", you pointed out and he actually laughed at this, because it was true.

Abandoning the remaining shirts, you grabbed your own clothes you had already set apart, and walked towards the door, leaving the room to take a much needed warm shower.

When you went back into the bedroom, Folio was no longer there, and you assumed he was downstairs talking to your family. You did notice that he folded the rest of the shirts and you smiled at his action. You loved that you didn't need to verbalize what needed to be done, he just noticed it and did it himself.

Making your way down the stairs, you heard more voices and you instantly knew your sister had arrived. You picked up your pace and when the living room came in sight, the only person you noticed was the little baby, dressed in an absolutely adorable reindeer onesie, playing inside a playpen set in the living room.

"Oh my God!", you exclaimed, but not too loud, so you wouldn't bother Ava. Your sister got up from the couch and wrapped you in her arms.

"Oh, I missed you so much, little sis", she told you, tightening her arms around you.

Your big sister was always an inspiration to you. She was a badass woman, and you would be proud of yourself if you could be half of the person she is one day.

"You look so much like a mom, now", you joked, but it was true. You sensed a change in her - a good change - ever since she gave birth. The only way you could describe it , is that she definetely looked like a mom now.

"Is it the bag under my eyes?", she joked.

"Nooo, I can't believe this sweet baby angel gives you any trouble, that's impossible", you said in a baby voice, making your way to her playpen.

Ava looked at you with her big brown eyes, so much like your mom's, and you could see a little bit of your family and her dad's family in her.

"Where's Andrew, by the way?", you asked, at the thought of her dad.

"The company hasn't released them for the holidays yet" your sister huffed in annoyance. It was no secret that she wanted her husband to change jobs, but now, with a little baby, they couldn't take any risks. You hummed in understanding, looking back at Ava.

You bent down to be on her eye level.

"I'm your aunt Y/N, did you know that?", you told her, and she smiled as if she could understand everything. "And that", you pointed to Nick, who was sitting on the couch, observing the whole thing, "is your uncle Nick".

She looked at where you were pointing before looking back at you. She smiled even more and smacked her toy on the ground in excitement, before she put her little chubby arms up, signaling she wanted you take her.

"You wanna come with auntie?", you stretched your hands and took her in your arms, standing up, boucing on your feet as she got used to being in your arms.

You cooed silently, and as soon she leaned her little head on your chest, getting herself comfortable and gripping a handful of your shirt in her tiny hands, it was as if the world around you completely disappeared.

You nuzzled your face on the top of her head, feeling the little wisps of barely there hair tickle your nose. You decided to go on a little walk with her around the house, and you slowly made your way out of the living room and towards the kitchen and dining area.

Meanwhile, Folio was completely mesmerized by the scene unfolding in front of him. He already knew you were good with babies, but to see you so comfortable around your niece, and her feeling completely safe in your embrace, stirred something in him that he's never felt before.

Suddently, he wanted to see you like all the time, everyday. But with your own baby, a perfect mix of you and him. He could picture it perfectly in his head.

The baby would probably have his dark hair and your beautiful eyes. He hoped he had your intelligence and his ability to play the drums, or any instrument would suffice, actually. He hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble, but new it would be impossible if they inherited his hyperactive personality.

But he knew they would be the most loved baby in the world. There's absolutely no doubt about that.

"Well, she did warn us about hogging the baby", your mom pointed out, looking at Nick.

"Yes, she did", he agreed, but his mind was still distant.

A few minutes later, you came back into the living room, the baby now asleep in your arms, as you put your fingers to your lips and signaled everyone to be quiet.

You sat down next to Nick, and adjusted Ava in your arms, and she was now laying belly down on your chest.

"I'm gonna put on a Christmas movie and make some hot chocolate", your mom whispered, giving the remote to your sister, so she could choose the movie, as she made her way to the kitchen.

Setting on The Polar Express, the three of you got comfortable on the couch.

Nick got closer to you, as close as he could be without waking up Ava, as she gave a big yawn and stretched her little arms, but never opened her eyes. With that, her little closed fist rested on Folio's arm, and he sworn to himself he wasn't going to move an inch until the end of the movie.

You both looked at each other and softly smiled. There was no denying you were enjoying this moment together.

Later on in the day, your sister had already gone back home, and your parents ordered some pizza for dinner. You noticed Folio was overly quiet and lost in his own head, but you chalked it up to him being tired from the drive. You two napped on the couch a bit, but it wasn't enough to shake the tiredness from your bones.

Now, you were both getting ready for bed. Brushing your teeth and changing into your pajamas, you got under the covers to wait for Nick.

It didn't take too long before he was coming in to the room and closing the door behind him, and it didn't go unnoticed by you the way he sneakily turned the key and locked the door.

He was shirtless and in one of his sweatpants, that was hanging low on his hips. The man was on a mission to tease you today, and you weren't so sure anymore if you were above having sex in your parents' house.

He lifted the covers and got under them, and since the bed wasn't as big as the one you had at home, he was already pressed up against you, the warmth from his bare chest emanating and making you feel even hotter.

He enveloped you in his arms, bringing your back closer to his chest. "Good night, baby", he murmured into your skin, giving you a kiss on the back of your neck. You returned his words and closed your eyes to try and sleep.

But your mind was running with thoughts of it's own. It didn't help that Nick's whole body was pressed into yours. His chest to your back, his legs tangled with yours, his soft and inconsistent breathing - that told you he was still awake - hitting the back of your neck, and his firm and strong arms wrapped around your midsection.

You were starting to get hot and bothered and unconsciously moved around a little in his grasp, accidentaly rubbing your ass on his crotch. You felt his breath hitch at the sensation, but he didn't say anything.

A few minutes later, you started to feel Nick's hardening length pressing on your bum, and you decided to throw caution to the wind and let yourself indulge in the feeling of having your husband close to you every way you could.

So, your left hand started to drift back, and your palms came in contact with his thigh first, but soon, it was over his bulge, and you gave him a firm squeeze.

"Baby, we don't have to do anything. It's fine", he told you, voice quiet in the darkness of your bedroom. You appreciated his will to abide by your wishes, but right now, you really didn't care.

"I want to", you whispered to him, turning around in his grasp and trying to make out his features in the obscurity of the bedroom. It seemed like he did it before you, because next thing you knew, his lips were on yours in a hot kiss.

You placed your hand on the back of his head, keeping him in place as your tongues moved against each other. You hands traveled over his exposed torso, as you felt him twich under your palm.

"Turn around, baby", he broke the kiss and murmured the words into your lips. You obeyed and turned around in his grasp, resuming your previous position.

He left soft little kisses on the back of your neck, making your skin erupt in goosebumps. His hands traveled under your shirt to draw patterns on your skin, and, as he drifted it higher and higher, it came in contact with the underside of your breasts.

You took in a sharp breath, as he rolled one of your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger, making the nub harden immediately. And then he did the same to the other one.

"I want your hand a little lower", you told him, voice breathless already.

"You gotta be patient, baby", you could hear the smirk in his voice.

"I don't wanna be", you rolled your hips against his hard-on and he hissed in response.

"Don't gotta ask twice, my lady"

You finally felt his hands travelling lower on your body, and then he was teasing the elastic band on your flimsy sleeping shorts, tugging them down along with your underwear far enough for you to kick them off. You heard the items of clothing hitting the floor with a soft thud.

You were incredibly wet at this point, and when he ran his finger over your slit, you let out a quiet moan of satisfaction.

"Fuck, I can feel your wetness already", he said in the shell of your ear, and you had no response, because he finally dipped his finger where you needed him the most.

Collecting your wetness, he started to rub circles on your clit. You lifted your leg up, so he could have better acess, and he grabbed it and hooked it over his.

"Love you spread open like this for me", he nibbled on your ear and you moaned louder this time. His hand that was under your head covered your mouth, and he told you to be quiet.

You found that to be really difficult when he entered one finger inside of you, and your arm went back to grip at his hair, as your hips moved in tandem with this thrusts.

You whimpered into his palm at the feeling, knowing you wouldn't last much longer from how pent-up you were.

"It's ok, baby. You can cum all over my hands"

It didn't take much longer for your walls to be squeezing his finger, and your body to be convulsing against him in bed. You squeezed your eyes shut and concentrated in riding out your orgasm and also not moaning out loud.

After coming down from your high, you reached back and tugged on his sweatpants, telling him to take it off.

"Want you to fuck me, please", you looked back at him and saw he already had a completely fucked out expression on his face, despite not even fucking you yet.

He grabbed your chin and kissed you on the lips, then, he dragged the sweatpants down his body, that joined your pile of clothes on the floor.

You grabbed his dick in your hands, pumping him a few times and he grunted, burying his face in your neck to stifle his groans.

You guided him to your entrance and he sank himself inside you, finding no resistance at all.

You both let out quiet gasps at the same time, as he started to roll his hips against you slowly, as to not rock the bed too much. His slow movements allowed you to feel everything. The sensation of him moving in and out of you never failing to make you lose your mind.

"Gonna fuck you real slow today, baby", he said, planting a kiss on your shoulder. "Gonna make sure you feel every inch of me"

You nodded your head fervently, not trusting your voice at the moment.

He kept his pace, slowly building you and himself up for the earth shattering orgasm that was inevitably gonna hit the two of you. Reaching over your body, he started to rub slow circles on your clit, and you let out a quiet mewl at his ministrations.

"Gonna cum if you keep doing that", you told him.

"It's ok, angel. I'm right there with you"

He could feel you squeezing him, and knew you were both close.

"Where do you want me?", he asked, holding off his orgasm, waiting for your response.

"Inside, please. Want you inside", you pleaded with him, and seconds after the words left your lips, you were convulsing against him, mouth open and eyes screwing shut at the absolute pleasure you were feeling right now.

Nick was not any better, his hips stuttered as he spilled himself inside of you, reveling on the feeling of coating your walls with his cum.

You both laid there, completely spent and breathless. Nick resting his head against the back of your neck, trying to get a hold of himself.

Your little bubble was broken when your alarm started to ring on the bedside table, the words "Birth Control Time" flashing on the screen. You swiped to stop the ringing.

"Gotta get up to take my pill, baby", you told him, and he only hummed in response. You slipped out of bed, already missing the feeling of having him inside of you, you padded to where your backpack was on the floor, resting against the wall.

Rummaging through it, you couldn't find where you put your birth control pills. You tried the side pockets, the little make-up bag and the bottom of the backpack, just in case it slipped under there, but came up empty.

Sighing out loud, you came to the conclusion that you finally forgot it at home.

"Nick", you called out to him.

"Yes, baby?", he answered, sounding a little more awake this time.

"Imma need you to drive me to the drugstore. I forgot my birth control at home", you told him, already looking for your clothes and putting them on. You noticed that he didn't move from the bed, and has a pensive look on his face.

"What's wrong?", you asked him from where you were standing at the foot of the bed.

"C'mere", he patted the bed for you to sit next to him, and so you did.

"I was thinking today", he started, but you could sense the hesitation in his voice, you nodded your head for him to keep going. "Seeing you interacting with Ava today, made me feel things I've never felt before. Suddently, I was imagining this whole life ahead of us. A mini you and I running around the house. Buying toys, cute clothes, throwing birthday parties. My mind ran a thousand miles a minute just thinking of all the possibilities"

"Nick, are you saying what I think you're saying?", you asked him, wanting to be sure you understood what he was implying.

"That I want you to have my babies? Absolutely", he said, giving you a little smile. "That's only gonna happen if you want to, of course", he took your hand in his and looked at your face to try and figure out what you were thinking.

"But what about the band? What are we gonna do when you're touring and stuff?", you asked.

"I was gonna tell you this soon, but we're gonna take a break from touring next year. Between Noah's burnout, and the label wanting a new album, we'll be working on that next year, instead of travelling", he explained. "A lot of it is going to be the creative process. But I'll be home everyday for a long while now. You know how long it takes for us to come up everything for a new album"

You pondered over his words for a minute, and it did seem like the perfect opportunity. You were lying if you said the thought hasn't crossed your mind today. Especially when you, Nick and Ava were so cozy on the couch together. You felt like a little family, and you couldn't wait to have that with him everyday.

"You really want that?", you questioned him, looking at him with a questioning stare. You didn't want him to decide this on a whim and regret it later.

"I want everything with you. You're the woman of my dreams, and I want you to be the mother of my children", he grabbed the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"So, the birth control?", you asked and he smiled.

"What if we don't go to the pharmacy to pick it up?", he wiggled his brow in a suggestive mode.

You grinned at his implication, as you laid on the bed, resting your head on his tummy and looking up at him with a dreamy gaze.

"We're gonna be parents?", you said, half asking him and half voicing your musings out loud.

"We're gonna be parents", he ran his hand through your hair, ligthly scratching your scalp. "Shit, you're gonna be such a MILF", he deadpanned, and you laughed out loud at his observation, giving him a light slap on his thigh, as he laughed with you.

[weepingchronicles]

Hii!! I am the same annon who requested the yan!Jinx with a darling on hunger strike. I saw that I am allowed to make more requests.

First of all I'd like to say that I LOVED the hc u made!

Second of all, if its not too much trouble, could I pretty please with cherry on top request a yan! Jinx with a fem or afab darling who got her/their period(whatever pronouns you are more comfortable with)(bacically due to stress of the abduction she didnt get her period for a while and now it finally came).

Also, do Arcane ladies even her periods? Like- idk how to explain it but I dont get the vibe they would??? Does it make sense???(as somebody who is on her period, I would be so jealous if they didnt. If they did, then I feel pity bc...where do they get pads in the under ground to begin with??)

Anyways, I am really sorry if this is too long ot counts as spam and if you dont feel comfy about writting about this topic, please ignore it!!

Have a wonderfull day and make sure to drink enough water!

a/n: hello! i am so glad you liked it! ♡ thank you for requesting as well! don't worry, this isn't spam. i am just glad you enjoy my writing. this is also written from my own experience with periods since i am afab. i chose to do afab reader since not only women have periods and i want all to feel represented !! although i can not write for someone else's personal expression for obvious reasons. thank you for all the support!

cw: period, yandere behavior, past abduction/kidnapping, stockholm syndrome(?)

❝yandere!jinx x afab!reader getting their period❞

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 The thought that you hadn't gotten your period in several months hadn't even occurred to you. The stress and entire adjustment period had kept your mind pretty much occupied. Dealing with Jinx's schizophrenic ass and ideas of escape had filled most of your thoughts. Your last wouldn't have even been your goddamn period!

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But here you were, dealing with cramps and feeling groggy as hell. Your depression had already been bad enough after you were kidnapped but now it feels like hell. All you want is to hide in your bed and forget the world. The world? Sure, but you can't forget Jinx.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You knew eventually you had to tell Jinx, she would understand but the idea of discussing your period with your captor.. just feels wrong. Perhaps it was because you didn't want to come to terms that you've been here for nearly a year. The idea of sharing this vulnerable side of yourself felt too awful to bear.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But it was futile.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Soon enough Jinx comes skipping, yapping about something crazy that happened while she was out in the city. Almost bragging that she could freely roam outside but you couldn't.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She almost didn't notice your silent lackluster attitude. To be fair, ever since you've been taken you hardly wanted to talk much and Jinx didn't seem to mind that.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "What's up with you, firecracker? Got your period?" She laughs at her own joke, throwing her head back until she looks back at you, your deadpan face telling her it was indeed your period.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Oh." Her tone and face immediately softens with sympathy and she sits down beside you, throwing her weapon out of the way.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Do you, erm, need anything?" It almost feels better seeing that Jinx is as uncomfortable with this situation as you are. Maybe more. She wasn't the most caretaking nurturing type, but when you needed something she was happy to supply.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Well, my cramps are really awful and I feel exhausted."

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She nods, suddenly running circles around her hideout as she gathers supplies for you. She comes back carrying a bunch of blankets and a hot water bottle for your stomach. She dumps it all on the bed.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Need anything else?" She asks, it amused you to some extent to see her running around, collecting and doing anything for you.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "Some food would be nice," her eyes widen and she darts in the other direction, after awhile coming back with a bowl of soup in her hands. You don't think you've seen her be this gentle before.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 After some pampering and warm soup filling your belly you feel a lot better than you were before. Somehow through it all, Jinx manages to curl up beside you, her lithe form strewn over you like a human blanket. It was funny as she snored and her blue hairs hung in front of her face.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Perhaps this wasn't as bad as you thought it'd be.

artist credits: @/iwantmoretime17 on instagram

[rose-l-20]

GENERAL NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM HEADCANONS - Main 7 characters

SUMMARY: Just some headcanons I have always had based on the characters and the way the movie portrays them.

If you would like to request more characters, please refer to my NATM MASTERLIST for the characters, and send your request!

WARNINGS: Fluff, angst, romance, discussions of trauma, funny moments, flashbacks, mentions of loss, mentions of betrayal, mentions of homesickness, reader is mentioned a bit. My opinions! 😱

Any facts I wasn't sure of I used wiki fandom!

AHKMENRAH:

As many people have suggested, Ahk is a HUGE cat person. Before he was left in the sarcophagus for 4000 years, he had 100s and 1000s of cats. Different breads, both female and male, long royal names for each one. But his favourite will always be his childhood cat that started his love for the feline animal.

Out of all characters, Ahk experiences the most homesickness. This could be because he was barely 18 before he died, so he still has a touch of childhood in his soul.

Always ready and eager to learn something new, or info dump on the closest set of ears. When he gets with reader, he waits patiently for the “safe zone” to spill every fact about his time. Also things he read in books at Cambridge and the museum. You could call him a broken tap!

One way that calms him down is humming nursery rhymes, and songs his Mother used to sing to him. The main time it works impeccably is when he thinks of his brother’s betrayal.

Since the tablet was first created, his (along with his family) soul has always had a strong connection to night. So he goes to the roof top, or a window and star gazes anytime he can.

Ahkmenrah will defend the Kardashian and Jenner women until the end of time (if you know, you know 😂).

When he is introduced to chocolate, Garlic bread, sour gummy candies and Iced water. He felt like he met heaven.

Is very serious, yet still his usual gentle and kind self, when it comes to romantic relationships. He will take each step at a time, really wanting to get to know his potential partner. Consent Pharaoh, drinks his “I respect women” juice, will ask you to be his officially at the four month mark, and will not kiss your lips until you are official.

Absolutely dreads sunrise, as the wraps take as he would say “a whole millennium” to get them back on. At the beginning he would get Teddy and Larry to help him, but it becomes a special thing between him and reader.

Ahk most likely feels the most safe and comfortable around Larry, as he has moments where he needs advice or guidance from a father figure.

Ahkmenrah loves a good, lighthearted, non offensive prank. When he and Nick hang out, chaos will follow.

Both Sacagawea and Ahkmenrah supported each other when getting adjusted to not being trapped in their exhibits. This started their friendship.

When he became a DJ, he felt his death age the most. He found a passion that he could learn, perfect and show it off to the people he cares most about

OCTAVIUS:

Octavius talks about Rome so much that he definitely fits the stereotype of “you make your background your whole personality”. He will get defensive if the stereotype is mentioned.

If he and Jed were to be parents, they would 100% have adopted 2 Girls and 2 boys. Octavius would surprisingly be the fun Dad.

Before Larry, he had a massive hatred towards the night guards. He was fine with being locked up, he had his comrades. What angered him was the derogatory comments made by the guards. It took months upon months to wake up and not be filled with immediate dread.

He is a BIG chick flick fan! He also loves the whole concept of Christmas, so his favourite flick would be Love Actually.

He can read Dexter like an open book. he learns the signs of Dexter’s cheeky behavior to avoid another “Pompeii” situation.

Each time he hears any sword noises he smiles to himself and whispers to himself, “Ah Rome, you were a wonderful empire to be apart of”

He is also an avid info dumper, so there can be hours of time where he and Ahkmenrah bond over their “ancient times”. The 2 find so many similarities and differences that leave them fascinated to learn more.

The Cowboy hat rule, also applies for his helmet. And he will only take it off for extended periods of time if Jedediah is present. This is because he would kill for a head scratch.

Octavius will slip into Latin whenever he is feeling intense levels of emotion (positive). The amount of times it has happened, has resulted in everyone, including reader, being able to understand the language and somewhat communicate.

He uses the Latin version of pet names for Jed. He mainly uses “Amica mea” (my love), “Puer meus vacca” (my cowboy), “Solis radius” (sun ray) and “Mutum Asinum” (dumb ass).

Octavius is the type to bottle his emotions when something has deeply upset him. It takes a lot to get him to take the cap off and explain why he is feeling the way he is.

Octavius is super supportive of other religions and cultures. Which is super rare given Romans pride themselves on their religion and culture above everything.

When Octavius discovered the front desks computer, he immediately (with great struggle since the apparatus had not been made yet) he became so obsessed with it you could call him a teenager. He honestly gatekept it for ages before he found something that Jedediah would like and then it became their fun activity before sunrise.

JEDEDIAH:

Jedediah definitely has ADHD to a certain degree (This is coming from someone who is definitely has it but has yet to be officially diagnosed 😂), and has to be redirected to the main topic at least 3 times a day.

When he was trapped in the hourglass by Kahmunrah, he did everything in his power to cause havoc. Jedediah wasn't stuck with Kahmunrah, Kahmunrah was stuck with Jedediah!!

When Octavius showed him he computer, he consumed every piece of western media as he wanted to know how people perceived his time period.

He gets along with everyone, and only hates people if they have treated the people he cares about in a negative way. He is more then willing to take the blame or pain for others.

Jed will take a secret to his grave, but he will sometimes tell Octavius so technically they will be taking it to the grave. He will not tell him if the person who confided in him, was going through a difficult time. He understands boundaries...to a certain extent.

Jed is a HUGE foodie, and has a tendency to say "are you going to finish that?" even if the person eating is literally chewing their food. he would kill for anything that has an element of bread. Hence why he doesn't shut up about flapjacks.

His way of showing he is really angry or upset is going completely, utterly, eerily silent. It honestly makes people get the creeps, since they are so used to his upbeat usual self.

He can feel lost at times in regards to being a museum exhibit. He has organic thoughts of the future, but then he remembers he's a miniature figurine and feels this overwhelming sense of identity dysphoria. Reader (who is either another night guard or a child of a staff member) helps him feel more human, with a sense of purpose.

His favourite western movie is Tombstone, and quotes "I'm your Huckleberry" whenever people call for him. it brings him immense joy.

In his time, I see him having a female dog named Bonnie and a male cat named Blaize. He mentions this to Larry and he sends in a request at the sculpting department to make them for him. Larry makes sure no detail is left unadded. When Jedediah wakes up 2 nights later he is greeted with the familiar bark, and meow that he remembered so clearly.

Jed has an assigned swear jar and adds to it 20+ times a night.

ATTILA:

ATTILA IS INSANLY GOOD WITH KIDS! He has that scene at the end of the second movie, which backs me up here. But even before then I got this vibe that if you accidently left your child near his exhibit, he would be the Tony Stark of the museum and think "Get me the adoption papers now!".

When Attila and the Huns discovered Harry potter, they became obsessed as it fits their belief in magic. They have watched all seven movies a concerning amount of time each.

Attila was a huge help with getting Ahkmenrah adjusted to his new normal. When he first noticed Ahk's struggles he didn't think twice before he put a hand on his shoulder, asked him to go for a walk and got him to open up. He is like the uncle you go to when your parents "Just don't get it!".

Attila 100% has a RIWTKYF, "Resting I Want To Kill You Face". This has been one of many reasons why some of his friendships with the other exhibits took a while to come to fruition.

When Nick was still young, he politely asked Attila if he could try on his helmet. Larry tried to lecture him, stating "It is sacred Nick, that is not ok". Larry received a slap to the back of the head by Attila, with a "Shush". He placed the Helmet on Nicks head and told the Huns "He is the leader for the night!". Nick Had a blast to say the least.

Speaking of Attila's Helmet, he has heard a lot of drama sessions from Jed and Octavius. sometimes he joins in, sometimes he is happy to just listen.

Attila lowkey can't stand the Neaderthal's constant "FIRE FIRE FIRE" sometimes. He can hear it either next to him or down the hallway and it gives him a serious headache. Ahk will offer his exhibit for some relief.

Before Attila passed away he had just been married, so he often wonders what happened to his wife and misses her deeply. Larry and reader enjoy reading books to him, so he knows about her life. He left the room with a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.

Teddy and Attila definitely have conversations/interactions that show they are stuck in their 40s/50s. I'm talking getting frustrated with technology, not understanding modern day slang, saying "Back in my day" and the "Dad grunt".

If Attila discovered music, he would LOVE the band The Village people, his favourite song is "In the navy". He asks Larry or reader to put the song on by pointing to the computer saying "Navy please".

Attila had the hardest time adjusting to waking up from the tablet. because he also needed to take care of his Huns. He pretended to be strong and that the whole situation wasn't affecting him at all, when in reality he was losing it inside.

SACAGAWEA:

Sacagawea was so relived when the glass on her exhibit wasn’t fixed. She was dreading going back to only hearing the Clark brothers yapping.

Sacagawea was low key checking Teddy out to, but the glass was stopping her from getting his attention.

When Sacagawea meets reader (for the sake of the point reader has ribcage length hair) she is so happy to meet another woman, that her way of bonding is offering to braid readers hair. As she braids they talk and get to know each other.

She may be a soft spoken and rational person but get her mad, and she her voice will ring in her ears for weeks.

Sacagawea got a photo of Teddy, and hid it in her clothes when the tablet wasn’t in the museum and in London.

Ahkmenrah, Sacagawea and Teddy create a “new exhibit adjustment program” for new or moved exhibits. They would’ve love that, so they started it for them to fill that void.

Sacagawea is always the logical voice of reason when there is a difficult situation happening. Let’s just say that the men of the museum would be done for without her 😂

When Sacagawea first sees a woman in pants she is so happy to know that women get to do the same things as men in modern day. Reader loves explaining the history of feminism.

Sacagawea’s love language with Teddy is acts of service, which we get a taste for when she helps connect his lower body back to his upper body. Teddy is still trying to give her the perfect thank you gift, but she kindly refuses them saying she is happy to just be with him.

She has the job of scolding Dexter when he’s being naughty because he is low key scared of her.

When she discovers music and movies she loves 70s soft pop and action romance.

Her way of knowing how fast time was going was watching Nick grow up. Each time she noticed even the smaller changes in his appearance, voice or personality Sacagawea would feel a huge shift in time.

TEDDY:

Teddy requests a newspaper that has the current state of the US’ politics. He has on many occasions thrown it in the air, walked towards the door screaming “I AM GOING TO TEACH THEM HOW TO RUN A CONTRY!”. Lucky Sacagawea has stopped him every time.

When he gives advice it’s either well thought out and considerate of one’s emotions, or he is straight to the point and cutthroat. Absolutely no in between.

Teddy and Ahk had a very awkward period of time because Teddy felt bad for shutting him up instead of helping him get out of his sarcophagus. Ahk being Ahk put it passed him and they got on like a house on fire.

When everyone dances and has fun, he is more happy to be watching on the side. He claims he’s “to old” to be dancing, reader disagrees and gets him to let loose on the dance floor!

He started the swear jar for Jed, as he got sick of “Fuck this” “shit” “asshole!” Every single sentence. Once the jar was full he took the money and put it towards the upkeep of the museum. His way of paying for something as it made him feel human again.

He definitely called MEMEs “Meh Mehs” for the first year of knowing about them.

He couldn’t find Sir Lancelot serious at all!! Every time he spoke Teddy covered his mouth to hide his smile or laugh. He was so close to calling him “The fool” “sir Erik” or “Jingle-elot”.

Teddy’s hat or pockets are Jedediah and Octavius’s backup travel option if Attila was unable to help with transportation.

His role in the NEAP is to show the new exhibit around and get them adjusted to the place they will temporarily/permanently call home for their time there.

When he first Jump scared Larry, he realised how evilly joyful it was and makes it his mission to scare him every night.

Teddy’s way of passing time before getting ready for sunrise is making sure Texas is looking sharp and clean. He enjoys having a quiet conversation while he listens to the brush run through Texas’ Maine.

After the “At their size, they’ll bake like tiny little scarabs in the Sinai…too dark?” Moment with Ahkmenrah. He can be a little scared of him at times 😂

He loves the 3 seconds of “warmth” the sun gives him before he goes to sleep. Thats when he feels most human.

LARRY:

Larry after a while had the realisation that the instructions were actually the ways the prior guards used to punish them, and burned it. From this he wrote a whole new instruction guide to help the newer guards after him.

He has created a schedule for the Easter island statue because there were some close calls near sunrise. But he won’t stop giving him his “Gum Gum” as it causes the worst earthquakes from his screams!

He may have a love-hate relationship with Dexter, but he is ready to defend the capuchin with his whole heart.

When Nick was young he set up a little “bedroom” for him so he could sleep there on school nights and not be affected the next day. Is incredibly lenient to letting him have a sleep in or skip school when there is a reasonable gap between each time.

When Mr McPhee has pissed him off a little too much, he has 100% planned ways to beat home up or kill him.

He has shown the civil war dudes what NASCAR is and they become obsessed. He feels really proud of himself for it.

Shit talks about Kahmunrah with Ahkmenrah. They have the an ungodly amount of glee from it.

He cannot hold a romantic relationship to save his life! But once he starts teaching he meets his forever partner at the front desk of the collage he works at 7 years into the job. Nick approved immediately.

He took inspiration from Star Wars for his flashlight tricks, and will on occasion make lightsaber noises.

It still trips Larry out that’s he met, made eye contact and spoke to Hugh Jackman, and sometimes he needs to sit down and process it.

He loves to put on Kahmunrah’s lisp from time to time to make jedediah laugh when he’s feeling down. Jed is always left in stitches after.

He has nightmares of the multi-headed snake at least once a month. This causes him to develop a deep fare of snakes in general.

-

I hope these Headcanons were good!

Have a lovely day/night!

[izvmimi]

cw: angsty. breakup mention. based on this song.

Everyone wishes they could go back to the beginning of a love affair, and perhaps if you were ever afforded the opportunity, you’d rewind to many years ago, when Suo first smiled at you and asked for your name. Perhaps you would have smiled just as politely and given him an alias or a nickname that wouldn’t grow as familiar as your name did eventually in his mouth, or come up with some sort of false appointment to help you leave the soiree. 

It's not like you could have known.

Your friend had told you he was a good man, and by all intents and purposes, he is one - kind, considerate, devoted to serving the community he’s a part of, perhaps at a time devoted to you - but now you are trying to erase desperately every memory you’ve shared, as if the endless harsh scrubbing of your body touched by him, as if rough fingers on your scalp and searingly hot water will melt every mark of him on your soul. 

This is a no-fault end to a love affair. He assured you it was him, not you, and plus, you both wanted different things, he’d reminded you, holding your fingertips the entire time over the coffee table so you wouldn’t shake or cry in public. You’d nodded, as if in a trance, his lips forming words that you had no choice but to agree with, even if soon you could barely hear what he was saying from the rushing of blood in your ears.

Suo doesn’t want you anymore. Did he ever want you? Did he ever love you? 

No fault. You did nothing wrong, you just grew apart, and adults do not force square pegs into round holes, they let each other be free to explore and be nurtured by the communities they serve and fall in love again, as many times as it takes to find the connection that fits and lasts.

It doesn’t matter how long you scald yourself under hot water, the love won’t fade away.

…

You hear your now ex has left the country from your friends a couple of weeks later, and you’re none the wiser. You don’t stop to think more about why, because you’ve cried enough times that the part of your brain that processes him and his person is now numb, and all you can do is nod, even if people are surprised to know you weren’t aware.

You have no details to share.

It’s not you, it’s him, after all. 

A year passes, and six months prior to this has you trying to date again by incessant coaxing from your friends, but the curse of being dumped with no explanation and the love of your life disappearing without a trace seems too daunting to move past. You call a crush Suo by accident and don’t even realize until he’s frowning at you as he pays the check, and finally you give up, wondering if something about you has been permanently altered.

It’s been a year and radio silence. No social media updates to even stalk (he always thought private life should stay private) and you had too much pride to ask his friends (if even they knew).

Only time would fix this and in your late 20s, you wonder if eventually you’d run out of time. 

…

Suo resurfaces in the middle of the night, dry despite the rain, save for his cloth shoes. He looks like he’s finally come up for air once he’s seen you, and it’s a miracle you’ve even opened the door, but he’s like an apparition, and you need to reach out and touch him.

You haven’t thought about him all week.

Men like him always appear when you’re trying to move on, don’t they?

“I missed you,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, and you know he’s telling the truth. You don’t reply, and he doesn’t say anything further, as if he’s waiting for you to slam the door on his face.

You don’t. All you do is say, “It’s not me, it’s you.”

His face turns to steel for a moment, and you can see him turn into the ghost you were expecting for a moment.

He whispers your name and you look down at his feet.

“Take off your shoes. You have exactly ten minutes.”

When your eyes meet his again as you look up, they’re filled to the brim with thankful tears, more emotion than you’ve seen in years.

Indoors, tonight, you’ll decide if there is still a fate that connects you, while the breeze and the moonlight outdoors remains constant.

[friendlyneighborhoodslut]

𝓲𝓿. 𝓣𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

»𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬«

0:59─〇───── 4:20

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

“Enemies By Monday” series, part 4.

MASTERLIST

Summary: She couldn’t let him spend Thanksgiving alone, but letting Steve Harrington into her life is a dangerous slope of which she’s unsure she’s ready to cross.

Warnings: Strong language, drinking, ANGST, unrequited love in the form of flashbacks, bullying, Reader’s going through it emotionally in this one, arguing? Idk man I just work here. This is so long I’m so sorry.

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟗, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓

Fuzzy music plays through the busted radio on the counter. Eleven dusts the entertainment center in the living room while I am pinned with the unfortunate task of making the turkey for the third year in a row. I still don’t know how I ended up getting stuck with the tradition, I suppose Dad just decided one year that he’d had enough of doing it.

Violating a turkey at ten o’clock in the morning isn’t on my list of favorite activities. But it’s only once a year, right?

The kitchen is the stuffy type of warm; a combination of the preheating oven, boiling potatoes on the stove, and my personal workout from lugging around a fifteen-pound bird. As I pull its neck and other giblets out of the cold center, I gag and place them in a plastic bowl at the edge of the counter. The next step is to season the it inside and out, and I take note that the rosemary I’d gotten from the store is absent from my spread of ingredients. I lean back, still elbow-deep in the turkey, scanning the room. A tiny plastic container of fresh rosemary springs sits lonely on the oak dining table, taunting me.

Once I pull my hands out of this thing, there’s no way in hell they go back in.

“El!” I shout over the music.

“What?” She hollers back, annoyed.

“Can you hand me the rosemary from the table, please?” I call out, wiggling my fingers against the cold meat. My little sister is suspiciously quiet, and it isn’t until I peer over my shoulder that I realize she hasn’t ignored my request. The rosemary drifts vicariously in the air, wiggling like she’ll drop it from the other room. It plops down in front of me on the tray that I prep the turkey on. “Thank you!”

The front door opens and closes, rattling the thin walls in its wake of motion. I hear El greet him before he enters the kitchen, a gray plastic bag swinging from his fingers. “Munson Delivery Service,” he grins, setting the bag on the ground. The sound of beer cans clanking against one another faintly echos against the floor.

“You’re a life saver,” I exasperate, finishing my task and pulling my hands out of the turkey. I raised my arms up, covered in seasoning and poultry juices. My hands are trembling and I feel out of breath.

He grimaces, playing with his hair. “You’re nervous,”

“About what?” I try to play it off, but he’s right, I’m petrifyingly nervous. I feel as though I could turn to stone at any moment.

“You know what,” he tilts his head.

I shake my head, putting the turkey in the oven. “I know he’ll judge us, what we have—or more like what we don’t—I’m already prepared for it to be spread around school, not that it’s much a secret anyway,” I ramble, delicately dropping eggs in a pot and filling it with water.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Eddie counters, coming up behind me to lift the large heavy pot out of the sink for me. He places it on the stove. “Admit it, Princess. You’ve still got a thing for Harrington,”

My stomach does summersalts. “I do NOT. I’m offended you’d even insinuate that,”

“So you invited him over for dinner for…what? Shits and giggles?” he taunts, turning the stovetop on high and dumping an ungodly amount of salt into the pot.

“Eddie,” I sigh, scrubbing dishes in the sink. “It’s not like that. I technically work for the Harrington’s right now,”

“I don’t recall ‘have Holiday meals with the pretty one’ being on your verbal contract,”

“Do you have a point or are you just trying to piss me off?” I hiss. I need a fucking drink.

“My point is, don’t be stupid. And if you’re gonna be stupid, well, be careful,” he tells me, rummaging through the bag and grabbing out two beer cans. He cracks one open and sets it next to the sink, in my line of sight. I’m grateful he can read my mind.

“Enough about me, Munson. Tell me about Joey. He’s coming to dinner tonight, right? To meet Wayne?” I shift the uncomfortable topic, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah, that’s tonight. I’m nervous as hell,” he admits. Eddie had only come out to Wayne three weeks ago, despite his steady relationship with a boy from our school, Joey, having been ongoing for three months.

Eleven pads into the room, running to the fridge. We watch as she snatches a Coke from it, opening it and beginning to chug.

“Chill out, no more sugar or you’re gonna be running up the walls,” I scold and, goddammit, I’m starting to sound like our dad.

She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Hey, you heard her, Kid. Need you on your best behavior tonight. Lay off the sugar and no superhero stuff.” Eddie instructs. Annoyingly, she listens to him better than me.

“Right, because Mantis’s boyfriend is coming over,” she teases.

“He is NOT my boyfriend!”

“He totally is her boyfriend,” Eddie’s a horrible whisperer.

“Edward, don’t lie to the child, you know she believes everything you say,” I glare. He shrugs. The damage has been done, as she’s already scampered back off to the living room to do more cleaning. I’d agreed to a candy for every piece of furniture dusted, something I have come to regret, as she keeps finding things to clean.

“Now you’ve done it, can’t wait to have that conversation later,” I complain, eluding to the inevitable ‘when a man and woman love each other very much’ conversation that I predict is approaching very quickly with her. Dad can’t be trusted to do it, he’s to awkward for his own good. She’d never come to him about those things anyways, it’s always been me.

“What, are you gonna have sex with him and you’re worried she’ll hear?” He teases, jabbing at my side with his elbow.

“Jesus, Eddie!” I choke.

“No judgement! I would, given I could forget who he is for a bit,” he mumbles the last part and I wack him with the towel I’m drying my hands with.

“You’re disgusting.” I tell him. He laughs.

Eddie is trying and failing to explain Dungeons and Dragons to Eleven for the ten-thousandth time, foolishly hoping someday she’ll understand enough to join a campaign. I’m on my third beer, finishing the last swig as my vision begins to blur, and I suddenly feel a lot less nervous. In fact, I don’t feel shit other than contempt. I almost forget about the looming threat of Steve Harrington coming to my house—almost—until there’s a knock at the door.

Im on my feet and opening the front door before I can think to stop myself. He stands on the front door step, remnants of summer-kissed skin against a blue sweater, hair swept perfectly to the side. He looks perfect, standing there, like a painting, but then I remember I’m supposed to hate him and definitely not supposed to stare.

“Hi,” I can’t come up with anything else to say. Eddie snickers behind me.

“Hey,” Steve breathes, his hot breath visible in the frigid air. I step aside and gesture for him to come inside. He steps up and I’m paralyzed as he brushes past me and sets his backpack down on the floor.

Eddie peeks up over the couch to look at him. They exchange awkward nods before Eddie stands.

“Alright, Kid. Remember what I said, behave yourself,” Eddie tells El, bending down to ruffle her hair. He approaches me, leaning in to whisper, “you behave too,” before leaving quickly. I groan internally and close the front door.

“Did he… leave because of me?” Steve asks.

“Uh, no,” I lie, and it’s obvious. Steve nods anyways though, looking around the room.

Don’t look too close, I silently beg.

I round to the other side of the couch to make some distance between us. “This is El, my sister,”

Steve’s expression is one of bewilderment, but he smiles. “It’s nice to meet you, El,”

She all but ignores him, turning to me, “I want another Coke,”

“Only if you agree to go outside and run off all the energy from the sugar,” I tell her. She nods enthusiastically in agreement. I giggle and watch her take off to the kitchen, then out the back door. I follow her from afar, leaning over the kitchen sink to watch her through the window. She runs in circles, arms outstretched and pretending to be a bird—or maybe a plane—flying in a loop.

“She’s cute,” Steve’s voice startles me. I jolt and turn around. He’s leaned against the doorway. “I’m sorry I chased your boyfriend off. I can go, if it’s gonna cause a problem—“

“Boyfriend?” I blurt out, brows knit in confusion.

He fumbles over his words, lips parted in contemplation. “Munson. I know he doesn’t like me. Can’t blame him. I don’t want to make your life harder than it needs to be,”

“Harrington,” I interrupt. He watches me closely. “First of all, you already make my life harder than it needs to be. Secondly, he’s not my boyfriend,”

“But—“ he shakes his head. “You’re always together, he calls you Princess. I heard you tell him you love him—“

“Are you stalking me, Steve Harrington?” I pretend to be dead serious, keeping my face straight.

“What? No! It was dark, wanted to make sure you didn’t get kidnapped or something on the way to the car,”

“Kidnapped, in Uptown?” I begin to laugh and laugh until, I can’t stop, and I’m in an uncontrollable fit. My eyes water from laughing so hard. Steve is unamused.

“So.. you’re not dating him?”

“No, God, no,” I giggle, wiping under my eyes. “Eddie’s gay. He’s got a boyfriend,”

“A.. Boyfriend?”

“Correct,” I snort. “You know what those are… right?”

“He flirts with you,” Steve thinks aloud, like he’s trying real hard to put the pieces together.

“Eddie will flirt with anything that breathes, even you. Better watch out,” I tease.

He gives me a look and I shake my head. “There’s beer in the fridge. Help yourself.” I tell him, turning to pull the turkey out of the oven. As he sits at the table and drinks his beer silently, he asks if I want any help. I shake my head, finishing the mashed potatoes and deviled eggs.

I try to clean as I go, washing dishes and laying them on a towel to dry. Steve stands and I snap, “Harrington, sit your ass back down,”

“You look stressed,”

“I function well under pressure,” I tell him absently, working quickly to arrange the spread of food. I can feel his eyes on me and I begin to sweat. This is an unforeseen type of pressure, different than anything before. My hands fumble a bit but I refuse to ask him for help. He watches me intently and I do my best to ignore him, finishing the setup just as El comes barreling in through the back door.

“I’m so hungry I could eat the house!” She announces.

“Probably because you just burned a week’s worth of calories in twenty minutes,” I joke.

“What’s a calorie?”

“A unit of measurement for energy, used to express nutritional value of food,” I explain, setting a heaping plate in front of her. Eleven contemplates then nods. Steve watches us interact, fascinated. I crack open another beer, feeling wobbly.

“How many of those have you had?” Steve inquires.

I shrug. “Not enough,”

“Don’t be getting drunk on me now, we need your Genius brain in tact,”

I take another swig. “I’ll always be your Genius, drunk or not.”

He grins and I do too, hiding mine behind the cool aluminum of a Busch Light can.

I’m tucking Eleven into bed, the door propped open just an inch. Kneeling over her bed, I kiss her head. She’d had boundless amounts of energy after dinner and practically begged Steve to go play with her outside, ecstatic to have someone new to play with. I told him he didn’t have to but surprisingly, he obliged. Turns out Steve Harrington not only loves kids, but he’s like a magnet for them. They played until she was worn out and the sky was dark. This is the earliest she’s gone to bed all year.

“Your boyfriend’s pretty cool, Mantis,” she mumbles against the comforter, eyes fighting sleep.

I laugh through my nose. “You did good today,” I praise, flicking the lamp on her nightstand off. “Get some sleep. Goodnight.”

Closing her bedroom door behind me, I step into the dark hallway.

“Mantis, huh?” Steve’s voice is deep and reverberates against the night. I flail, unsure of where he is. Two large soft hands grab my shoulders, spinning me to face a shadowy figure. His breath fans my face, a mix of spearmint and cheap beer.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting in hallways like this,” I quip and turn to hide, escaping down the hall.

He chuckles and follows me.

The lone desk under my bedroom window is crowded with a semester’s worth of biology homework. We both cram into the space, shoulders touching as we go through the first textbook.

“Cells reproduce by dividing, so all cells exist because of pre-existing cells,” I explain, highlighting the basis of Cell Theory in my textbook. “I’ll send you home with this, you’ll need to study it for your final. I can’t take that for you so it’s very important that you actually—what the fuck are you looking at?”

Steve’s got this goofy look on his face as he stares at me. He’s so close to me, one arm resting on the back on my chair and his chest pressed into my shoulder. I look at him expectantly and he shakes his head, taking a drink from his fourth beer of the night. “Just lookin’,” he tells me.

“You should be just lookin’ at the page or your stupid self is gonna be repeating senior year,” I retort.

“Wouldn’t be so bad. Could hangout with you more,” he slurs.

I’m not sober enough for this.

“So you can torment me and extra year?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he leans impossibly closer.

“Shut up and read the textbook, Harrington.” I shove it his way, standing up to make some space between us.

“Why do you call me that?”

“You mean your name?” I snark, wrapping my arms around myself and holding my elbows.

“My name is Steve,” he tells me, drunkly, in a matter-of-fact way; like he’s proud he knows something I don’t.

“Steve Harrington is your name,” I snicker. He’s much more pleasant in this way, the drunken idiot. “Steve’s the boy I was friends with four years ago. Harrington is, well… you,” I roll my eyes and plop down onto my bed.

He stares blankly at me across the room. There’s an eerie silence in the room and I can tell he’s thinking—or trying to, at least—about something. Watching him sit at the same desk I’ve had since Dad dragged me all the way out to Indiana brings me back the days when all of this would’ve seemed so normal. He sits the same way he always has, one leg tucked up to rest on his knee, back slouched into the chair.

“Remember the day we met?” The words come out before I can stop them, fueled by a drunken stooper, brave and bold.

“Shit, yeah,” he lulls. “Miss. John’s English class, back when she used to teach both seventh and eighth grade,”

“Dad had just dragged me to this shitty town after… y’know,” my throat closes up thinking about Sarah. I was so young when she died, but that didn’t make it hurt less. The fallout and subsequent divorcing of my parents was devastating to my preteen self. “I was terrified, shaking like a leaf. The whole class was staring at me when she introduced me. I thought I was gonna die,”

“You were much more shy back then,” Steve confirms. “Nicer, too,”

I scoff, grabbing a pillow off my bed to throw at him. He holds his arms up to shield his face.

“Only seat open was next to you. You scared the shit out of me,” I admit.

“What, why?” His voice goes p an octave.

“You were staring at me,” I giggle. “Like you’d never seen a girl before,”

“Maybe I thought you were pretty,” he suggests.

I pretend to be annoyed. “Remember? I sat down and dug through my bag; then I realized, shit, I forgot—“

“A pen.” We say at the same time. I remember it so vividly, him silently handing me one across the small aisle. I took it and our fingers brushed, electricity igniting me instantly. I was a goner from the second I looked into those chocolate brown eyes.

“What kind of Genius forgets something to write with on the first day of school?” Steve scolds. “You never gave me that pen back, by the way.”

“I’ll buy you a new one to make up for it,” I joke.

“You could make it up to me a different way,” he raises his eyebrows. Some people really do never change, do they?

“Ugh, gross, Harrington!” I scowl.

“Oh, no, not that!” He shakes his hands in defense. “Just… humor me a second,” He drags his chair across the room, right up to my bed, and sits on it backwards, his chest pressed to the back. “I have questions,”

“We have work to do,”

“Please?”

“No,”

“Just a few,” he pleads. “Then I’ll do whatever you say for the rest of the night. Besides, you owe me. For the pen,”

“I hate you,” I groan.

“Is that a yes?”

“Three. That’s it.”

He adjusts in his seat, giddy like a little kid. “First, where’d the kid come from?”

My heart plummets into my stomach. “El?”

He nods. “I mean, I remember…Sarah, what little times you talked about her. I don’t remember you having two little sisters,”

“I didn’t,” I gulp. “El’s adopted. Her uh… biological parents passed away. Dad got pretty close to her on a case he was working on, he was the only one she’d talk to. Eventually it only made sense that she comes to live with us,” I’m careful to leave out the unsavory details, such as superpowers and monsters. They’re just little details, anyway.

Steve soaks up every word I say, nodding. “What’s El short for?”

“Is that your second question?” I ask stubbornly.

He shakes his head. “Second—this one’s important—what’s up with the nickname, Mantis?”

I laugh. “My mom. She said when I was a baby, she left my nursery window open while I was sleeping. She came to check on me, heard me laughing by myself, and there was a female Praying Mantis on my face. She was a big skeptic and thought it was a spiritual sign of good luck to come,” I sigh, leaning back against the wall. “Turns out I have like, the worst luck imaginable. So I don’t think the Mantis was any help,”

“You’re bad luck, huh?” He tilts his head to the side, chewing on the inside of his lip.

“Oh, yeah,” I add. “I’m trouble.”

We share breathy laughter, the tension slowly melting away. “What’s your final question?”

He contemplates for a second. “Ah, I’ve got it,” he giggles. “Why are you so damn mean?”

I cackle, covering my mouth at the outburst. “I’m usually not. It’s reserved for you,”

“Why?” He presses. Put those big brown eyes away, you asshole.

“Because you made me that way, Steve,” I declare. “I was perfectly fine until you broke my little pre-teen heart. It was—back then—the end of the world for me,”

Steve’s chest rises and falls a little faster. He stares at the floor, like he’s digging up a memory he hasn’t thought about in years, a privilege I had not been granted.

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟎.

I was in seventh grade, Steve was in eighth. After Sarah’s death and my parents divorce, I’d flunked out of the seventh grade and needed to repeat it; only this time, at a new school in a completely different state. People knew my dad was a cop by that time, and it squashed any chance I had at making friends, labeled unrightfully as a snitch. To make matters worse, I was relentlessly teased for needing to repeat a grade. Pre-teens are pure evil.

A lonely day in the cafeteria was interrupted when a boy in a purple sweater and blue jeans sat down next to me. His hair was much shorter then, nowhere near reminiscent of the waves with their own zip code that he adorns now. He hadn’t grown into his strong nose yet and he’d just barely started playing sports two weeks ago. He was a scrawny kid with no friends and a big dark cloud looming over him, just like me.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” He asked, sitting next to me. I must’ve been staring at him like he had two heads, because he added, “It’s me, Steve. From Mrs. John’s? Y’know, I just realized I never told you my name—sorry, let me start over—“

He used to be so awkward. But I loved that about him.

We were fast friends. I’d dare to even say we were best friends, at one point. I had the world’s most diabolical crush on him, and I thought I hid it very well. That was until the Spring on 1981. We were on the cusp of the end of the year. Steve would be headed off to High School and I’d be trapped in Junior High for another year. He suggested that my dad pleads the case for me to be moved up, that my grades had proven that getting held back was purely circumstantial and due to lack of attendance the year prior. It was no luck, though, and we’d be separated for an entire year. This idea bothered Steve an ungodly amount, but I could never figure why.

It ate away at him, piece by piece, until one day it didn’t .

It all changed overnight, after he’d slept over at his teammate Tommy’s house. Tommy had a sister named Taylor and, well, she was the root of all evil. If Satan had spawn, Tommy and Taylor were definitely it. Something happened that night, because the following Monday, Steve and Taylor were dating and he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. My greetings were met with indifferent stares and zipped tight lips, and his seat at the lunch table was cold and empty.

I was blindsided and devastated. It was back to sitting in the cafeteria alone, watching from afar as the table Steve now sat at grew more and more crowded by the day. Very rarely, Steve and I would catch each other’s glances.

Taylor hated me and she made it very apparent. Bugs in my locker and tearing up my notebooks, she’d even gone as far as to get her friends to egg my house and my dad’s car.

It came to a head when Steve brushed past my empty lunch table, slipping a note underneath my tray.

Meet me in the west hallway.

How stupid I was back then. I foolishly dropped everything and ran to him, embarrassingly willing to welcome him back with open arms despite his douchebaggery. He was waiting by the boys’ bathroom, and shit—did he look different. His hair was gelled back and he had a different type of cloud around him, almost a sort of haze.

“Where the heck have you been?” I hissed, shoving his shoulder.

“Ow!” He squealed, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ve been busy,”

“Too busy to speak to your best friend?” I snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he frowned. “Look, I’m here now. And I need to talk to you,” He got closer then. We’d been close before, but never this close, and it made my heart drop into my ass. I began to sweat and I tried not to show how nervous I was. “I like you, Y/N. A lot. I can’t stop thinking about you,”

“I…like you too,” I admitted.

Idiot.

Steve leaned in and so did I.

On cue, Taylor burst out of the bathroom, two open cartons of chunky expired strawberry milk in hand. Carol swooped in from behind her and held me in place as Taylor poured the milk over my head while Tommy snapped a picture on his Polaroid. The room-temperature slime that oozed from the cartons smelt like a combination of vomit and a corpse.

“That’s awesome!” Tommy gleamed.

I wiped the substance from my eyes, feeling it settle into the strands of my hair and the knit of my shirt. I peeled out of Carol’s grasp and shoved Taylor.

She shoved me back. “Stay away from my boyfriend, you whore!”

Until that night, when my father awkwardly explained it, I didn’t even know what that word meant.

I pushed Taylor again. Carol joined in and the took turns pushing me around and pulling on my strawberry milk infested hair while Tommy egged them on. Once they shoved me to the ground, a voice boomed down the hallway.

“Leave her alone!”

It was a tall boy with frizzy black hair. He was bigger and taller than both Tommy and Steve, and that intimidated them. The boy ripped the camera from Tommy, throwing it on the ground and shattering it.

A flash of kicks and punches thrown. Muffled yelling as chunks of milk clogged my ears and blurred my vision. Before I knew it, Edie Munson was leading me into the bathroom to wipe my face with a wet paper towel. He picked solidified milk out of my hair and helped me rinse it in the sink.

“Thank you,” I told him, doing my best not to cry.

“It’s no problem. And it’s okay to cry sometimes, you know,”

That’s all it took. I was a blubbering mess as he took his sweatshirt off and gave it to me, directing me to change out of my sweater in one of the stalls and handing me his. From that day onward, Eddie became my best friend and practically my older brother. I never spoke to Steve Harrington again, wouldn’t even look in his direction. He became the thorn in my side, the one person I hated more than I thought humanly possible. If there’s one thing I excel at, it’s holding a grudge.

“I’m sorry,” Steve laments, snapping me out of my trance.

I blink rapidly to stop the tears from escaping my eyes, but it’s no use. They come before I can stop them, cascading down my cheeks and dripping off my cheeks. He reaches forward, breaching the unspoken personal bubble between us to take my face in his hands. As he brushes away my tears with his thumbs, my body reacts to a violent range of emotions. I tremble under his touch, desperate to run away but even more so to stay. I’m paralyzed, and he can tell, taking advantage to speak again.

“I was a stupid kid. I should’ve never done that to you. I’m so sorry,”

“I just wanna know why,” I sniffle.

His lips form a tight line. “The honest answer?”

I nod. Honesty is the one pillar of integrity I allow zero leeway for.

“You scared the shit out of me,”he breathes. He strains against the chair, getting as close as possible. His elbows rest on my knees as he continues to wipe my tears. “You challenged me, made me think more about everything. It was infuriating but exciting, a terrifying combination. But the scariest part was that you made me fall in love with you when you weren’t even trying,”

I feel like I’ve been shot and punched in the chest at the same time. Time slows down and I look around, trying to uncover if this was really happening. My grief is replaced by shock, then anger, as I come to a conclusion that this is real. Steve Harrington is admitting to being in love with me; the one thing I wanted to hear him say more than anything.

Except he’s four years too late.

“Get out.” I command flatly.

His face falls. “What?”

I peel away from him and I feel empty and gross, like I’m contaminated somehow. I stumble off of the bed and open my bedroom door. “Get out of my house, Steve,” My breathing picks up and my heart hammers in my ribcage until it shatters, little shards getting stuck in my insides that poke and prod at me. I need space. I need to process.

He stares at me like a kicked puppy.

“I didn’t mean to—“

“Leave, before I make you.” I threaten.

He relents, picking up his things before quickly leaving. I watch him go through my bedroom window, a part of me dying as he gets into that red BMW. He sits there for a minute, both hands on the steering wheel. Just when I’m about to open the window and call out to him, he stars the engine, backing out of the driveway and disappearing into the woods.

“Fuck.” I murmur to myself. Going to the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face. I look up at myself, water droplets dripping across my skin. So much of my mother resides in me; the older I become the more I resemble her. Glaring at myself, I curse whatever unforeseen force oversees this unforgiving universe. If my mother could see me now, she’d regret giving me such a forthcoming nickname.

Unluckiest Mantis in the world, I think to myself.

[inkinmyheartandonthepage]

Bad Dates and Pick Me Ups

Day six of Flufftober! The prompt was Mistaken Identity. You can read it here on Ao3.

“-and then it turns out that this was a live grenade –“

“Hey Ashton.”

Buck looked up at the sudden venomous voice that interrupted his story to find a woman standing at the edge of their table. Her bright coloured sundress was a stark contrast to the glare that she had on her face and directed at Buck.

“This is for cheating on my brother,” the girl continued.

Buck had half a second to close his eyes before the takeaway cup she had been holding was flung at his face. He gasped as cool liquid slapped across his face, dripping down his neck and into the fabric of his shirt. His lips parted, chocolate flavoured milkshake coating his tongue as he breathed. Already he felt sticky, and his heart plummeted into his stomach as he reached up to wipe the milkshake from his eyes.

He blinked rapidly, milk dripping from his eyelashes. The café around them had gone silent, nothing but the steady drip of the milkshake splattering onto the floor from where he fell from Buck. Licking his lips, Buck looked at the girl who was now looking at him smugly.

“He’s Ashton,” Buck said, lifting a sticky covered hand to point at his date across the table from him.

The woman’s face dropped, eyes going wide.

Buck reached for his own half-forgotten milkshake (too busy rambling about a call to try and impress the guy sitting across from him) and slid it over to the girl. “You can use my drink.”

The woman cleared her throat. “Thanks.”

“Hey! Wait a sec-“Ashton tried to protest but the girl had already picked up Buck’s milkshake and dumped it over the guy’s head.

“Asshole!” The woman hissed at Ashton. She immediately spun back to face Buck, her face apologetic. “I am so sorry. Here, let me help you get cleaned up.” Then she was taking his hand and tugging him out of his seat.

Half blinded by the milkshake in his eyes, Buck allowed the woman to pull him through the café and towards the bathrooms. She pushed him into the bathroom, and he heard the tap start and the rapid sound of paper towel being yanked from the dispenser.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman rambled apologetically. “I’m such an idiot! I was just so mad! I mean, I should have checked first but ugh, that asshole broke my brother’s heart and I just,” she made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat.

“Guess I should be thanking you,” Buck chuckled weakly, accepting the wet towel thrusted into his hands. He wiped it across his face first, focusing on the area around his eyes.

“For covering you in milkshake?” the woman asked, sounding sceptical.

Buck shrugged, moving closer to the sink. “I’m a firefighter with the 118. I’ve been covered in worse.” Buck ran his hands under the flowing tap, rinsing his hands before cupping them, letting them fill with water. “But, uh, no. Thanks for saving me from that asshole.” He lifted his hands, splashing water over his face and started to scrub.

“Well, I may not be a firefighter,” the woman said. “But I can still pull off a rescue. Not a very elegant one, clearly.”

Buck laughed as he washed the back of his neck. “I’m Buck, by the way.”

“Tiffany,” the woman introduced herself.

Buck washed as much as much milkshake off as he could before switching off the tap and binning the wet paper towel. He accepted a few dry ones to dry his face before binning them too.

When they exited the bathroom, Ashton was long gone, and their table was being cleaned up. Tiffany went to the counter, pulling out a few notes and handing them to the cashier.

“For the mess,” Tiffany said sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”

“My manager would like me to tell you to never come back,” the cashier said. She looked around before leaning in closer. “But I want to say you rock. Wish I could have done that to my cheating ex.”

“My advice,” Buck said. “Make sure you have the right person first before you attack.”

The cashier giggled while Tiffany turned pink in the face.

Buck chuckled, apologised to the cashier one more time before leading Tiffany out of the café. They stopped outside the door and Buck cleared his throat. “Well, it was interesting meeting you. I hope your brother feels better soon.”

“I’m really sorry,” Tiffany said, looking stricken.

“I accept your apology,” Buck said. “You’re a good sister. I know mine would probably would have done the same.”

Tiffany laughed. “She sounds awesome.”

“She is,” Buck smiled. “Your brother lucky to have you looking out for him. Take care. I’m going to go home and shower.”

Tiffany winced, giving a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Sorry again.”

Buck waved before heading down the street towards his car. His shoulder’s slumped as he climbed into his car. Another failed date. Buck sighed, starting his car. This was the fifth date he’s been on this month and none of them had worked out. Buck knew why. Because none of them were Eddie.

Realising that he was in love with his best friend hadn’t been all that life changing. Buck thought it had been rather obvious, and he was mad that it had taken him so long to figure it out. Buck wanted nothing more than to tell Eddie, and everyone, that he was in love with him.

Except, Eddie was dating Marisol and Buck wasn’t about to break that up for his own selfish needs. Eddie was happy and that’s all that Buck wanted. So, he had tried to date in an attempt to get over the man he couldn’t have. But none of them had been Eddie so they hadn’t worked out (and it especially wasn’t going to work with Ashton since he was a cheating dick) and Buck was tired. Resigned, Buck finally pulled up to his loft feeling sticky, defeated, and lonely.

The elevator ride up to his floor seemed to take for ever. Buck’s footsteps felt heavy as he walked slowly to his front door. His keys were sticky when he pulled them out of his pocket, and he groaned quietly. Milkshake had gotten everywhere. He made a mental note to clean them once he was out of the shower.

The front door swung opened, and Buck tossed his keys onto the kitchen island, listening to them clatter as they skidded across the marble surface. He moved closer, tossing his phone on to the bench too before moving towards the stairs. His fingers gripped the hem of his shirt and he started to pull it up –

“What the hell happened to you?”

Buck blinked twice. Eddie had come from his living room, eyes wide as he took in Buck’s stained clothes.

Buck cleared his throat, abs still exposed to the cool air. “Uh, what are you doing here?”

“I came to hang out,” Eddie said, eyes scrunching as they roamed over Buck’s figure.

Buck followed the man’s gaze as it drifted to his exposed stomach before they quickly snapped back up to his face.

“Chris is with his Abuela,” Eddie continued, the tip of his ears turning pink. “You still haven’t told me what happened?” He gestured to Buck’s whole figure.

With a sigh, Buck whipped off the rest of his shirt, tossing it towards the downstairs bathroom. “Mistaken identity.”

Eddie made a noise in the back of his throat as Buck kicked off his shoes.

“What?”

Buck sighed again. “My date is a cheating asshole. Tiffany was defending her brother’s honour, and she dumped a milkshake on him. Only, she thought I was Ashton.”

Eddie’s lips pressed together tightly.

Buck rolled his eyes and started up his stairs. “Laugh when I can’t hear you. I’m already feeling pathetic, I don’t need you adding to it.”

“Buck,” Eddie called after him, voice strangled but Buck ignored him, ducking into his bathroom and shutting the door firmly. He knew Eddie wouldn’t follow him, but he wanted it clear he wanted some space.

Buck had no intention of telling anyone, especially the 118, what had happened today. He wasn’t expecting Eddie to be waiting for him, not when he had been so busy with Marisol lately that Buck had hardly seen him outside of work. He was already feeling raw and as much as Buck always wanted to see Eddie, he really wished his best friend wasn’t here.

Buck took his time under the warm spray of his shower. When he was thoroughly clean and the water starting to go cool, he stepped out. He towelled himself off before wrapping it around his waist. He stepped out of the bathroom and swallowed thickly when he found his favourite hoodie and sweats already folded on the bed waiting for him.

Putting on some underwear, Buck quickly dressed. He put his towel up to dry and then grabbed his milkshake-stained clothes. The loft was quiet as he came down the stairs but his hopeful thinking that Eddie had left was dashed when he saw the older man putting together a sandwich.

Eddie looked up when he approached, face carefully blank. “I’m assuming you didn’t get to eat on this date.” He slid the plate over to Buck. “You eat while I put your clothes in the wash.”

“I can wash my clothes, Eddie,” Buck said, a little more snappish than he intended. He winced, looking down at his plate. He looked up when Eddie’s finger circled his wrist, giving it a light squeeze.

“I know you can. I just want to help,” Eddie said quietly.

Tears blurred Buck’s eyes and he quickly looked back down at his plate, giving a small nod. Eddie gave his wrist one last squeeze before he took the clothes from Buck’s hand and then moved away. Buck listened to Eddie pick up his shirt from the floor and then he was out the door, taking Buck’s clothes the laundry room on the ground floor.

Buck ate while Eddie was gone. He washed his plate and then sat down at the kitchen island. He grabbed his phone, scoffing when he saw a message from Ashton.

Want to dinner later since our date got ambushed? Ashton.

Buck opened his phone and deleted the message. He was in the middle of blocking the number when Eddie came back in. He followed Eddie’s gaze as it darted to the phone in his hand, expression darkening slightly.

“Texting Ashton?” Eddie asked lightly.

Buck snorted. “Blocking his number.”

“Good,” Eddie said shortly. “Does this mean you’re done with the dating apps?”

Buck snapped his gaze up to Eddie. “What?”

Eddie moved closer, the scent of his aftershave making Buck feel a little dizzy.

“The dating apps. Are you going to stop using them now?”

Buck scowled. “Are you seriously judging me? Why do you even care how I date, Eddie? You have Marisol, do you maybe think that I want someone too?” He made to stand up, but Eddie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not with Marisol,” Eddie said firmly. “And I’m not judging you for using a dating app. I’m just waiting for you to see that I’m right here.”

Buck’s head swam with the flood of information and his heart pounded in his chest. “You – you broke up with Marisol?” Buck managed to croak out.

Eddie made a small huff, but he drifted closer again. “A couple of weeks ago.”

“Why?” Buck asked, half curious and half stalling because Eddie was getting closer and there was hope rising his chest that would absolutely crush him if he was reading this all wrong.

“You kept going on dates,” Eddie said. His hand slid across Buck’s shoulder. “And they were all wrong for you and I kept complaining about it to Marisol and she said.” Eddie shook his head, huffing out a laugh. “She said if I was so concerned about who you were dating, maybe I should.”

Buck shifted in his chair, coming to sit on it sideways. “Eddie.” His legs parted automatically as Eddie stepped in between them.

“She was right,” Eddie said, nose brushing alongside Buck’s.

He shivered at the soft touch, letting out a shaky breath. “Eddie. Are you, is this, don’t – don’t tease me.”

“I’m not,” Eddie promised softly. “I love you, Evan.”

“I love you too,” Buck said, fingers curling into Eddie’s shirt. “None of the dates worked because they weren’t you.”

“I’m yours, if you want –“

Buck cut Eddie off with a kiss. He drew him in closer, humming as his chest burst with little butterflies. Eddie’s lips were warm against his and so much better than his fantasies. Eddie made small noises as he kissed Buck deeply. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed pressed against one another until Eddie pulled away gently, thumb brushing against Buck’s birthmark.

Buck smiled brightly, his heart thumping joyfully in his chest. “I love you.”

Eddies smile was just as bright. “I love you too.”

[steddiealltheway]

!!!!! Tw: faked suicide not by Steve or Eddie. There are ⚠️⚠️⚠️ before and after the most graphic parts which can be skipped without needing too much context. I tried to be vague but it can still be triggering. !!!!! (Thank you everyone tagging it as such)

A sort of different type of TikTok Modern AU…

Eddie Munson is a famous rockstar and honestly doesn’t post much on TikTok, but he occasionally finds himself scrolling though the app which is how he finds Steve.

He’s gorgeous. Exactly Eddie’s type with luscious, gravity defying hair, a sharp jaw, pretty lips, and he bets if he had a closer look, Steve would have the most charming eyes. It’s a shame the camera is so far away from him, and Eddie almost wonders why until Billy Hargrove is in the shot.

Eddie’s stomach sours at the sight of the man. Yes, he’s attractive, even Eddie could admit that, but there was something about him that made Eddie feel uncomfortable. Plus, there were a few scandals surrounding the tiktoker regarding previous racist Tweets and comments which he has responded to with a thrust trap to “Nobody’s Perfect” by Miley Cyrus / Hannah Montana.

So yeah. Eddie didn’t particularly like him and the stuff he got away with just because he’s hot.

He tunes back into the video which has him holding his finger to his lips, and Eddie is already rolling his eyes. The caption says, “Pranking my boyfriend, Steve 🤣😱” and Eddie can already tell it has to be fake with all the dramatics that Steve just happens to not see.

But then Billy carefully sneaks behind the couch where Steve is sitting and dumps a bucket full of water and ice onto him which has the man yelling and standing up in shock. He stands still for a minute and then yells, “Why the fuck would you do that, Billy??”

The tone and overall reaction has Eddie actually wonder if the video is fake or if Steve is just a really good actor. But he watches it again and notices that the man doesn’t look toward the camera once and something about that makes him feel really uneasy.

Eddie has to reason with himself, if the man is dating Billy Hargrove then he must not be a great person, and maybe he deserved the bucket of ice water. But Eddie still closes out of the app and tries his best not to think about it.

-:-:-:-:-:-

He opens the app a few days later, having forgotten about the whole incident until he comes across another video by Billy and the word “prank” in his caption catches Eddie’s eye. He sighs wondering why it’s on his for you page, but right before he swipes past it, he catches the gist of the prank.

Billy fills a syringe with mayonnaise and injects it into a donut, and then it cuts to him giving it to Steve from a camera that once again seems to be hidden although Billy keeps glancing at it with a smirk on his face and evil in his eyes. Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t glance toward the camera, but his face lights up with glee when he’s handed the donut. “You got this for me?” He asks in an awe filled tone as if the donut means the world to him.

“Yeah, why don’t you take a big ol’ bite of it for me?” Billy asks, voice low. Eddie watches as Steve shifts uncomfortably and puts the donut down.

“This isn’t another prank, is it? You know I don’t like them,” Steve says which honestly surprises Eddie. His tone is entirely genuine, and he feels like he’s peering in on a private moment.

“Of course not baby. Told you I’d stop,” Billy replies with a big smile.

Eddie can’t help but click on the caption: “Simple prank makes boyfriend storm out!” With a shit ton of hashtags that Eddie doesn’t bother reading.

Sure enough, Steve bites into the donut and immediately spits it out. He doesn’t say a word, just shakes his head and storms out of room.

Billy laughs loudly, “Oh, don’t be like that, babe! You know that was funny as shit!”

Eddie opens the comments, and is surprised to find people actually defending the prank. There are some people who comment shit like, “date me instead! I would never get mad at your pranks 🥵”

There’s only one comment that says, “Don’t really find this funny.” But it’s swarmed with hate comments from Billy’s fans that has Eddie scoffing as he scrolls onto the next video. He watches for a few seconds before scrolling back up when he realizes something. He looks at the date of the TikTok and realizes it was posted the previous month which means…

Eddie sighs realizing that him looking through Billy’s videos will only give him more attention and views, but he needs to know how long this has been going on for. And he really needs to find out if Steve is in on any of it or at least had gotten Billy back.

He begrudgingly clicks on Billy’s profile and scrolls through. He finds several videos with the thumbnail being of Steve mid reaction to a prank, and Eddie notices that every time, the camera is far away, and there doesn’t seem to be a single video of him up close.

The whole thing doesn’t feel right to Eddie. But what can he do about it? It’s not like he can report the videos. He could simply just block Billy and try to forget it all.

He scrolls back to the top and accidentally refreshes the page. He’s about to block him when he notices a new video pop up, where Steve looks like he’s in the middle of a panic attack. Eddie immediately presses on it.

⚠️⚠️⚠️

Billy smiles at the camera, no shirt in sight as he laughs, “This is my biggest prank yet. Steve should be home in less than a minute. And look,” he holds up his phone and shows a bathtub filled with red water that almost looks like blood.

Eddie’s shaky hand covers his mouth. He wouldn’t.

Billy laughs and continues, “I sent him a text that says ‘I’m sorry’ and a picture of an empty pill bottle, and he’s been texting me non stop for the past few minutes. Shit, he’s on his way now so it’s time for me to hide my phone and make this look as real as possible.”

Eddie watches as Billy puts his phone on a shelf and seemingly stacks towels up to cover his phone and hold it in place. He looks away when Billy takes out a bottle of fake blood and stages a suicide. He practically shakes with anger. Steve has to be in on this. He has to just be a good actor.

Eddie’s stomach drops when he hears Steve yelling Billy’s name rushing through the house. He bursts through the door and falls against the wall in shock. “Tell me this is a damn prank Billy. Billy…” he gets closer and shakes him. “Billy!” He yells shaking. “Shit. Shit. No no no. Fuck. What the fuck…”

Steve sits next to the tub and puts his head in his hands having a panic attack. Billy’s eyes open and he winks at the camera before grabbing Steve’s shoulders and yelling, “Boo.” He starts cackling loudly as Steve confusedly looks around trying to catch his breath. “I got you so good!” Billy yells through laughter.

Steve shakily gets up, tears streaming down his face and runs. Billy gets out of the tub and makes his way to his phone. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to him later,” he says with a wink before the video ends.

⚠️⚠️⚠️

Eddie sits as the video reloops. He’s shaking with anger. He doesn’t think as he duets the video and mutes the other audio. “This is the most fucked up thing I’ve ever seen. These ‘couple pranks’ are stupid enough and not funny, but to fake a suicide and call it a joke… you have to be an extra type of fucked up asshole. There aren’t enough words to describe how evil of a human being you have to be to do something like this to someone you love. I don’t care if this is staged or not. This is not okay. And fuck you.” Eddie quickly censors Billy’s half of the video with a note of “watch at your own risk.” He doesn’t care if his manager is pissed or if his account is filled with Billy’s fans hating on him or whatever. He presses the post button and turns off his phone. He needs fresh air.

He grabs his keys, a hat, and sunglasses, and makes his way out of his apartment. Hopefully the damn paparazzi back the fuck off today. He makes it down his street and walks quickly, fuming with anger. He weaves in and out of people and curses the busy LA streets.

He turns the corner and rams right into someone walking at an equally fast rate. He holds onto the stranger to steady himself and keep them up. “Sorry,” the man chokes out and Eddie is about to brush it off when he realizes he recognizes him.

“Steve?” He asks. He knew Billy lived in Los Angeles but he didn’t know he lived so close. The thought makes him kind of sick to his stomach. He thinks he might punch him if he ever saw him in person.

Steve wipes at his face and narrows his eyes at Eddie. “Sorry, do I know you?”

Eddie glances around before lifting up his sunglasses and hat, waiting for Steve to recognize him enough to gain his trust. Instead, Steve just stares at him blankly.

Eddie’s heart races. This has never really happened to him. He puts on the hat and sunglasses sheepishly. “Uh, I’m Eddie. I know you from Billy’s TikToks.”

Steve just tilts his head in confusion. His eyes are red and puffy. He wonders if Billy posted the video so soon after his prank and if Steve is currently in the aftermath of it. “Um,” Steve says and clears his throat, “Was I in the background or something? He told me I wasn’t in his TikToks.”

Eddie’s heart drops. He opens his phone and goes to Billy’s TikTok, ignoring the way his own TikTok is blowing up. He turns his phone to Steve and picks a less traumatizing prank to show him.

Steve grabs his phone and his eyes widen. A look of confusion crosses over his face that slowly turns into realization and numbness. “He’s been using me for views after promising he wouldn’t, isn’t he? I even asked if the pranks were somehow stupid content but he said they weren’t. He…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be unloading all of this onto you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m sorry that I told you.”

He watches as Steve numbly nods and scrolls presumedly through Billy’s profile. He looks down at the screen and back at Eddie. “Is this you?” Steve asks hesitantly as he turns the phone back to him.

Eddie confusedly looks at his phone and sees that Billy has apparently replied to his TikTok already. Then, to his left, he hears a bit of commotion and sees some cameras flashing. Fuck. “Do you trust me?” Eddie asks.

Steve looks at his phone and back at Eddie.

Yeah, that’s a lot to ask of him. “Okay, how about this? You keep my phone, and we run back to my apartment around the corner and talk in private before we both end up in shitty magazines?”

Steve tilts his head and glances toward where a few people with cameras make their way to them yelling, “Eddie! Eddie Munson!”

“You’re not a famous serial killer or something, right?”

“Musician,” Eddie says and holds out his hand. “One who hates Billy Hargrove.”

Steve looks down at his hand and takes it running alongside Eddie who tries not to think about the stories that might come out of this. Gosh, he thought his biggest scandal would be when he came out as gay.

He makes his way back to his apartment telling his doorman, “Paparazzi! He’s with me!”

Hopper just nods in response and opens the door quickly. Eddie sighs in relief when he makes it through and to the elevator. Steve looks at him and asks, “How offended are you that I don’t know you?”

Eddie laughs. “Mildly, but it’s a relief really.” He realizes that isn’t the biggest concern in the moment and changes the subject. “Are you okay?”

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He opens his mouth but the elevator dings, and Steve almost looks relieved. Eddie doesn’t press it as he leads him to his apartment. “Make yourself at home. Do you want water, coffee, tea, soda, or anything?”

Steve numbly shakes his head, so Eddie grabs two bottles of water and two cokes from his fridge. He puts them down on his coffee table and sits on the couch, watching as Steve kind of hovers in his living room with his arms crossed. “I won’t bite, and I certainly won’t pressure you to do anything. But you can sit on the couch if you like.”

Steve eyes him and asks timidly, “You’re not in on anything with Billy, right?”

It breaks his heart seeing and hearing how on edge these pranks have made Steve. “Fuck no. I promise on my guitar I have never had anything to do with Billy and I never will. Well… unless you count me calling him out on his shit on TikTok.”

The words seem to get through to Steve who sits down on the couch next to Eddie while keeping his distance. “So… that’s why you were on his TikTok.”

Eddie’s heart hammers. He nearly forgot that Billy had apparently dueted his own video. “Yeah, but it has to be really new because I only posted mine literally a minute before I ran into you.”

Steve looks down at Eddie’s phone still in his hands. “Why?”

“Why what?” Eddie asks genuinely confused.

“Why did you call him out?” Steve asks, not sounding angry just… curious.

Eddie shifts and play with a string on one of the rips of his jeans. “His most recent video with the faked suicide. That wasn’t fucking cool, man. None of the pranks he’s done have been okay. And I’m sorry that you were put through them - especially this last one.”

Steve’s face turns almost white. “He posted that? Was I… was I in it? Like… my entire breakdown was…” he trials off as Eddie slowly nods. “Fuck,” Steve says burying his face in his hands. Eddie is about to apologize or go on a rant about how much he hates Billy Hargrove when Steve asks, “Can I see the video you made?”

Eddie’s cheek flush red, but he replies, “Yeah, uh, I don’t exactly remember what I said because I kind of went into a fit of rage and posted whatever came to mind. But yeah, my password is 051599.”

Steve types the password into his phone, and stares at the screen blankly. He looks at Eddie and asks, “I’m not on social media… ever so… could you show me?”

Eddie nods and slides over until he’s a few inches away from the beautiful man, and he does his best to try not to think too hard about how attractive he finds him as he goes to his profile and presses on his recent video. His nose scrunches up at the sound of his own voice, but he doesn’t disagree with anything he said. Billy Hargrove is a dick.

“Can I see the comments?” Steve asks. Eddie nods and clicks on them.

“Woah,” Eddie can’t help but say as he sees blue checkmark after blue checkmark. The top comments are from @ ronancetheromance with the couple saying: “Only an absolutely vile person is capable of such a fucked up prank. #SaveSteve”. Another from @ willthewise: “remember to comment on here instead of the original video so it can get less attention!! #savesteve”. Several of the rest of the streamers who call themselves “The Party” reply to Will’s with the hashtag “SaveSteve”.

“Who are these people?” Steve asks as he scrolls through the comments. He comes across one from @ billyfan4everandalways saying: “Watch Billy’s new video and stop being so quick to judge!!”

Eddie clicks on the replies, and the top liked one - having more likes than the original comment - is from @ ericasinclair: “that ugly mullet man’s explanation is bullshit and everyone knows it. let Steve talk for himself or I’m not buying it. #SaveSteve #CancelBilly”

Eddie nearly follows the girl, but realizes that Steve had asked a question. “Most of them I don’t know personally honestly.”

“Then why are they defending me? I’m nobody,” Steve says as if it’s a common fact.

Eddie turns off his phone and puts it down, properly facing Steve. “I know I don’t know you well, but you are not nobody. And these people are defending you not only because Billy is a dick, but this prank stuff is abusive and shouldn’t be normalized especially with the following he has. Nobody should go through that.”

Steve turns slightly red and looks away before asking, “Can we watch his reply?”

Eddie shudders a bit at the thought, but turns on his phone and goes to his page. “Are you sure? I haven’t seen it yet either, and I’m a little prone to getting pissed at him.”

“I’m sure,” Steve says and even reaches over to open the video.

Billy still has fake blood on him and is scrubbing it off with an angry look on his face. He looks at the camera every so often, and it’s clear that he’s staring at himself in a mirror. What a fucking asshole. “These pranks are harmless, and even my boyfriend would agree with that. He enjoys them and he makes sure to show me how much once the cameras stop rolling and his shock has died off,” Billy says so with a smirk on his face that sends chills down Eddie’s body. “So, stop making assumptions about me and my boyfriend and keep making shitty music instead asshole.” The video ends with him flipping off the camera.

“Charming,” Eddie comments, pausing the video so it doesn’t endlessly loop, and turns to see Steve’s reaction. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head.

“He’s lying. I’ve been begging him to stop for weeks. Even slept on the couch in protest. But that last one was the last straw. I just… don’t know where to go,” Steve sits back against the couch and mumbles, “Fuck.”

Eddie shifts and looks at him. “Do you have any friends or family that could take you in?”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “My parent disowned me when they found out I was dating Billy. Didn’t want a bi son ruining the family image. I had to move in with Billy, and he used to be sweet really. Well… I thought he was for the first three months. When his TikTok career took off he moved to LA, and I felt like I had no choice but to go with him. I grew apart from the few friends I had before the move, and I was just stuck with Billy here. And I… I don’t know,” Steve sighs and puts his head in his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you. I just… haven’t really had anyone to talk to.” The man lifts his head, his eyes are tired and filled with unshed tears. He’s gorgeous really, but that’s the last thing Eddie needs to be thinking about.

Eddie takes a moment to consider things. Steve seems like a good guy. He has plenty of extra room in his too big apartment and money to spare that he doesn’t know what to do with. Honestly, he’s not meant for this lifestyle and never has been. He’s happy that his uncle Wayne is retired and living comfortably off his too big income, but it’s lonelier than he imagined it to be.

And with that thought Eddie tells Steve, “Then live here for a while. No pranks. I won’t use you for clout or whatever. I have a guest bedroom with its own private bathroom, and I usually never have visitors. And I hate parties, so you don’t have to worry about that either. I may be writing songs in the middle of the night, but my music room is fairly soundproof. And trust me, I would appreciate the company or feeling like my money is going toward something important.”

Steve stands up and shakes his head. “It’s okay, man. I don’t want your charity. You’ve already done enough.”

Eddie stays on the couch and says, “Please, Steve, stay a week or just a few days. If you hate it here, I’ll help you get on your way. But trust me when I say you’ll help me too. It’s…” he sighs and runs a hand over his face, “It’s lonely in LA.” He cringes as he quotes the title of his favorite song that he’s written. It’s also his least popular one, but it’s the most honest thing on any of his albums.

“Reminds me of that song,” Steve says with a small smile.

Eddie’s head snaps up. “You know it?”

Steve hums the chorus of Eddie’s song and Eddie joins in. Steve stops to ask, “You know it, too?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “I wrote it.”

Steve looks at him for a few moments longer with a combination of shock and hesitation. Then he surprises Eddie by asking, “You really wouldn’t mind if I stayed?”

“Not at all. Unless you ended up doing something really drastic like trying to murder me.”

Steve snorts, and Eddie finds it endearing. He tries to shake the feeling away. He can not fall for this man when he’s a guest in his house and especially not after everything he’s been through. But then Steve gives him a real smile and holds out his hand saying, “It’s a deal.”

And when Eddie takes his hand and feels how warm and nice it feels in his, half of him wants to argue that it’s just because it’s been a while since he’s actually had a genuine conversation with another person. But the other half is quick to accept that he’s absolutely fucked when it comes to this stranger that he feels like he’s inevitably going to fall in love with.

[nomsfaultau]

FINAL SECTION

Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

“I can’t make promises that this will cure anything,” Philza reminds him. Tommy scoots towards the cliff ledge of the frozen bay, a kicked pebble plummeting, plummeting, crunching into the ground below, blood and pain spilling out of him. He tries to focus on fluffy white clouds and pretty scenery but all he can see is the tower from exile. The choppy, turbulent waters of the sea he always woke up drowning in. His chopped off feathers fanning around his abuser’s mask. 

He’s pulled away from the hypnotizing reverie when strong arms wrap around his chest. Philza’s steady heartbeat hums against the back of his head. It’s so wonderfully comfortable in a way that makes him nervous. He’s tried to avoid close contact with Phil, but there isn’t much of an option now. “.....ommy? Tommy? Mate?”

“Huh?” His head feels like it’s swimming. 

“I asked if you feel secure enough.” No. Tommy can’t remember the last time he felt safe. Well. Aside from what his avian instincts were tricked into believing. He doesn’t trust the feeling all that much. 

What he says instead is, “If you drop me I’ll stab you.” Philza chuckles. 

“Fair enough. If it helps I never dropped Techno the few times he let me fly him.” 

“Bruh. Never accidentally, more like,” Techno mutters darkly, earning a smirk. But Phil assures Tommy it’s going to be as gentle a flight as possible. Which probably isn’t a very accurate replication of a first flight. Vaguely Tommy remembers his own from when he was a kid, a scrambling terrifying elating freeing chaotic tangle rushing at him faster than the wind. It had felt so right, once. Natural, like he was growing up. Finally independent, not needing to rely on a guardian anymore. Tommy wants that feeling more than anything in the world right now. Tommy needs Philza to be right, for this flight to fix him. Even just a little, just enough to know it’s possible. 

But the memory of his recent failed flight is far sharper, of the moment he realized his abuser was right about him. An overhanging shadow of doom, despair, dependence. 

Phil tries to nudge Tommy forward, towards the edge, and suddenly Tommy’s panic spikes. He scrambles back, almost expecting resistance, expecting Phil to dump him off the tower. But Philza easily gives away, letting him retreat even as scarlet shame fills him. 

“Uh…are you scared of heights?” Techno asks. 

“No, don’t be stupid,” Tommy snarls. “Stop laughing at me, oh how ironic the avian hates heights, I’m not stupid, I’m not scared of the tower. How about you try jumping off a cliff and see how you like heights, pig boi. I’m not scared. I’m not stupid.” 

“Never said you were. I wasn’t making fun of you,” Techno replies mildly, hooves held out in pacification. “And, uh, what’s the tower?” 

Shame throttles Tommy. Philza frowns at a memory. “...is it the structure I found you at?” 

“I was trying to fly,” Tommy mumbles. He had been trying a lot of things. Some of them had very nearly succeeded. 

Techno and Philza wince as they remember the bloody, almost dead state they’d found Tommy in all those weeks ago. “Could do it with your eyes closed,” Techno suggests. “Just like when I clean up your wings.” Techno’s tusks twist in thought, then he roots around in his bag. He presses a glass bottle into Tommy’s hands. 

“It’s not going to work if I’m asleep, idiot.” 

“Nah, it’s Slow Falling. Just smash it if you need it, alright? It’s the extended version so no matter how high up you are you’ll get to the ground safely. Whenever I get anxious about somethin’ I like to over prepare. That way I have a plan to think about instead when my brain tries to run through disasters.” Oh. Tommy stares at the foggy, half frozen potion. The knots in his gut ease a little. Not the terrifying plummet of the tower, but something slow and gentle. It can’t quite ease the instinctive fear rolling inside his subconscious, but it soothes his more logical balking. What helps even more is knowing Techno cares enough to look at his fear and somehow untangle it in a way Tommy could never manage on his own. 

Techno and Phil are both trying so hard to help Tommy with the messy, ugly parts of himself. Not pushing him away because of it or ignoring the bad, but accepting and working with it. And if they’re trying so hard, they must think it’s possible for it to get better. Maybe they’re right, or will be if Tommy gives it his all, too. 

“... and if that’s not enough I can get you Feather Fall boots. I’d give mine but, well, hooves. It’ll take a bit to make, but you wouldn’t get hurt as badly if there’s ever another fall like that.” 

Tommy splits into a tentative smile. “Really? You’d do that for me?” 

The tension lining his broad shoulders eases, taking on a lopsided grin. “Well. Well you’d have to pay me. I’m not a charity out here, kid. But. Maybe I can get you a friendship discount.”

“We can wait till the boots are done to fly,” Phil offers. “There will be another windless day.” But Tommy clutches his potion. Now. He needs to do it now, when hope still hums in his chest. He can do whatever he has to for it to be easier for himself, not get overwhelmed with shame and loathing and refuse to ever make it better. 

And if what it takes for him to fly is a potion clutched for dear life, is large black wings that aren’t his own spreading out, is his face buried in the crook of Phil’s neck so he doesn’t have to see, then all that means is Tommy is flying. Maybe not the way he’s meant to, but the only way he can. Maybe it’s enough. 

He screams with the first swoop, clawing into Philza for safety. Strong arms press him closer to Philza’s chest, reassuring in their tight hold. The nascent reverberations of a coo Philza bites down rumbles in the throat Tommy’s tucked into, instinctively weakening his coiled tension. The flight smooths into a gentle glide, the plummet of Tommy’s gut vanishing. Only the wind tearing past assures him of their movement. 

He knows they can’t be falling, but he can’t shake the thought. Scared, he pries open a eye. Unlike the tower, the ground isn’t rushing up to shatter him. Icy waves scroll past slowly beneath them, almost still. Sunlight glitters across glaciers, burning in radiant streaks. The tranquil arctic sea is starkly incongruous with the terror ebbing in his chest. His urgent nightmares give way to new peaceful memories, the spark of fear unable to catch. Tommy’s death grip on the potion eases from its white-knuckled terror. 

It hasn’t been long enough when they’ve crossed the bay, Phil coming to a careful stop on an outcropping. There’s an awkward moment as Phil tries to set him down and Tommy still clings on. As cold as it is Tommy doesn’t mind being tucked underwing. 

“Alright, check in time. How was the glide? Do you want to try more compli- oh- oh mate,” Philza says in a soft, fragile way as he finally catches a look at Tommy. He bends slightly till they’re face to face, carefully brushing away blossoming tears. Tommy wants to shove him away, pretend it was the wind. But it feels so nice to sink into the warm, calloused palm cupping his cheek. “This cliff connects to the mainland if you’d prefer to walk back. We can try again later. Or never. Whatever you need…” 

Tommy shakes his head, dismissing his worries. “I didn’t know how much I missed it.” 

Philza’s smile is a mixed thing, half relief half heartbreak. “Flying should’ve never been taken from you. But before long your new primaries will come in and you’ll be able to soar on your own.” Before the thought had filled him with dread, but the memory of wind gushing through his feathers dulls the edge of his insecurities. One day he’ll have feathers his abuser never touched. 

On the return flight Tommy doesn’t need to hide, instead facing outward like Phil initially planned. Probably more aerodynamic that way, and it gives him a better view. Tommy’s wings scrunch up, trying not to get in the way of Philza. The flight is rougher than the glide, Philza flapping quickly to gain upward momentum. Tommy’s gut swoops, but the ascension is so unlike his plummet, a controlled and triumphant race towards the heavens. The arms wrapped around his midriff are secure and not for a second does he imagine falling. The shift of Philza’s muscles against his back with each beat of his wings almost feels like his own strain against the wind, almost feels like his own wings. He finds himself tensing in the pattern of it, echoing Philza’s minute adjustments to the wind current. 

Tommy’s wings instinctively begin to spread. They’re so ragged and ugly compared to Philza’s sleek ebony plumage. Mud colored, his abuser teased once. But in the streaks of close sunlight they glow with auburns and golds, the white undersides softer than the surrounding clouds. They wobble slightly as wind buffets the pair, and quickly Tommy straightens out fully, hesitance forgotten. As air slips through his feathers something wakens in him. It feels right in a way so little has recently. 

Philza caws at him, subtly rocking, and Tommy leans into it, copying the tilt of his wings as they arc into a loose gyre. Tommy grins as he earns an approving coo, dutifully mimicking Philza’s exaggerated, coached movements. He flaps, Tommy’s wings awkwardly crashing into his the first few times till he gets in rhythm, the pair climbing higher into the azure. Perhaps for Philza it feels like teaching, but for Tommy it feels like remembering. All the little instinctive details he’d forgotten, all rushing back like they’d never left, like an old nostalgic song he’d thought he forgot the lyrics to until he heard the tune again. His own short wings stretch out beneath Philza’s massive black ones, flapping and angling to match. It’s as if they become one. 

An elated chirp bursts out of Tommy, and for once he doesn’t slam his hands over his mouth. It doesn’t overwhelm him, this joy, doesn’t rob him of his senses. It feels like laughter, something drawn out, not forced upon him. A wild, booming caw explodes from Philza in response, vibrating deep in the chest Tommy is flush against. Tommy is delighted to discover his vibrant, bubbly chirps are prettier than Philza’s raspy caws, though they surely hold no less enthusiasm. Suddenly it makes sense why they’re always so loud and ear-piercing. Words are only whipped away in the rush of the wind. The pair twitter back and forth, less a language and more intuition and tone. It feels like pure joy. 

Their descent is slow and winding, Philza careful to avoid anything resembling a dive or swoop. He’s disappointed when they finally land at the first cliff. It’s dizzying to go from feeling like the wind itself to be standing on firm ground once again. Unconsciously Tommy’s wings flare out, echoing the memory of freedom still ringing in his head. The careful angling for aerodynamics, adjusting to currents of wind. He steps back towards the cliff, tensing as if to launch once more. 

A hand lands on his shoulder, and Tommy blinks. “Hold on, I need a break first.” Phil smiles at the impatience in his eyes.

“Tired old man! I bet I’ll be an even faster flier than you. I’ll leave you in the dust.” Tommy puffs up his chest, but mischief suddenly dances in Philza’s eyes, and Tommy huffs. “What’s so fun-”

“BOO!” Techno shouts, jabbing Tommy in his soft sides. The boy shrieks, feathers fluffing up as he’s seized and lifted into the air. He thrashes and flaps wildly, but the piglin’s long arms prevent retaliation. 

“OOOOOH I’M GOING TO STAB YOU. YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH I’M GOING TO STAB YOU.” Tommy smirks in satisfaction as his wing bashes Techno in the snout. It falters as Techno swings him around and around until the world blurs. Tommy stumbles as he’s set down, then leans against Techno as he tries to overcome the vertigo. “There, now I got my turn flying you. I’m sure it was the exact same deeply bonding experience you just had with Phil. I’m guessing it worked?” 

“It was fantastic!” Tommy enthuses, stretching his wings out. 

“I meant the hatchling thing. Like, you didn’t freeze up when I spooked you.”

“Oh.” Tommy had…kinda forgotten about that part. “...maybe?” He catches himself and jerks his head up. “Actually, since I have no possible way of knowing we’ll just have to go on a bunch more flights. You know. Just in case. You never can be sure with these things.” 

Philza chuckles and tucks him neatly underwing, pulling him close. “Oh yes, really cement the milestone to your instincts.”

Tommy laughs as Philza scuffs up his hair, batting him away. “Oi! Don’t mess with the Tommy Charm™!” When meticulously fixing his locks, he freezes as his fingers encounter a foreign object. He slowly pulls out one of Philza’s feathers from where it had accidentally gotten lodged in his hair. He runs his finger along the vane, watching dark barbs ripple, iridescence catching the light in flashes of indigos and wines. 

Philza goes a little rigid. “Ah- sorry mate, didn’t mean to shed on you.” He reaches for the feather, but Tommy is mesmerized by it, flicking the edges so the barbs part then preening them back into smooth completion. 

“Can I keep it?” he asks before he quite plans to. He doesn’t mean to, knows he’s only getting Phil’s hope up. He wants to shove it back in his mouth. He doesn’t. 

“Y-yeah. Sure mate. If you want to.” Phil barely clamps down on bursting euphoria, trying to be as calm and nonchalant as possible. In avian culture, wearing another’s feathers is a promise to carry the person as safely as their own two wings. Hadn’t Philza already done that? Hadn’t he already promised to always? He’s so, so ready to be family, but even if Tommy is painfully aware of it, Philza never intentionally pressures him. He’s just…allowed to take things at his own speed. Tommy doesn’t slip the feather behind his ear, but he doesn’t let go of it, either. That night he tucks it next to a picture of the three of them. It doesn’t feel overwhelming, more like a gentle promise for when he’s ready for it. 

And one day he will be. Not now, though. Not when some small panicked creature in him wants to bolt at the thought of wearing Philza’s feathers, let alone how he feels about his own. 

But one day he’ll wear both their feathers with pride. 

Fin.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

waste your time on me | vernon

yeah hiatus is going great why do u ask? lol anyway i wrote this short lil cute vernon thing. meant to be a new relationship and he is VERY whipped and trying very hard. don't think there's any warnings! love our bononie.

“These are for you,” Vernon says quietly, handing you a bouquet of white flowers with bright yellow centers.

You take them, touched. “Where did you get these?” you ask with a note of reverence in your voice as you look them over.

“Well, I have this friend who works at a flower stand in town,” he begins, then pauses when you chuckle. “Is that funny?”

“It’s just very you,” you reassure him, hoping your smile is as warm as it feels. “Go on.”

Evidently it was, because the corner of Vernon’s mouth quirks upward. “Uh, anyway. I asked him his expert opinion on what to bring you today, and he asked me a few questions about you, and this was what he gave me.” He hesitates a little. “Uh, do you like them?”

You gently bury your face in the blooms, looking up at him as you do. “These are some of my favorites,” you say. “Do you know what they are?”

“Flowers?” he says.

You laugh again. “Yes, Vernon. They are. Do you know what kind?” 

“Daisies, aren’t they?” he asks.

“Good guess, but no,” you correct, moving into your wide kitchen and pulling a vase from under the sink. “These are anemones.”

“Wait!” he cries as you pull your shears from a drawer and move toward the flowers. “I’m supposed to do that.”

“Do what?” you ask, startled. 

“Get all the stuff off and put them in a jar,” Vernon says. “That’s my job.” He reaches out for the scissors. “I saw a TikTok about it.”

You hand the scissors over to him. “You’re really taking this boyfriend thing seriously, aren’t you?” you say, unable to hide the broad grin crowding your face.

“I really am,” he says, giving a smile of his own as he focuses on the flowers. “The guy at the flower stand told me to cut them diagonally. They’ll last longer that way.”

You take a seat at the counter and watch him snip the bottoms of the stems away, then fill the vase with water. He dumps a packet of flower food into the water and then arranges each flower in a clumsy circle that turns out adorably lopsided, looking at you proudly as he finishes. “What do you think?”

You look right at him as you reply. “Perfect.”

And he is. The way the light hits those brown eyes and turns them almost gold, the soft brown hair that just slightly waves over his forehead, the curve of his lips -- lips you’d dreamed about for ages and only just kissed for the first time a week ago -- coupled with how much you laughed around him, how he wasn’t afraid to show you new perspectives, and how comfortable and safe it was to be around him, all added up to a truly unforgettable and unprecedented person. You know it’s too early to say that you love Vernon, but you wonder when you’ll blurt it. You feel it so deeply it seems impossible you won’t let it slip sometime.

“Thanks,” Vernon says, admiring his handiwork, not catching the double meaning in your words. 

So you stand, coming around the counter to reach out a hand to him. He takes it, pulling you into his side. His arm wraps around your waist, and he absentmindedly traces the curve there as you look up at him. “Thank you,” you say. “Is there a particular reason you brought flowers today? I mean, is there an occasion?”

“You’re the occasion,” he says, then winces. “That was so cringe. Forget I said it.”

“Not a chance,” you say gravely. “I guess that’ll go in the blackmail folder. But seriously, was there a reason?”

He sighs. “Well, not really. I just...” He pauses, suddenly avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah?” you prod, running a soothing hand up and down the back of his sweatshirt, trying to remind him he can talk to you about this stuff.

“Dang,” he says with a tiny laugh. “I didn’t think I’d ever be this nervous to talk to a girl again.”

“It’s normal,” you comfort him, although there are crazy butterflies doing divebombs in your stomach at his words. 

“I know. Especially when -- when you like someone as much as I like you.” He turns to face you then, still holding you around the waist -- and in an unexpectedly bold move, he picks you up and plops you down next to his arrangement on the counter. 

Determinedly, Vernon fixes you with an uncharacteristically intense look. “I’m doing all of this because I really want this to work out. Like, I’ve never been the guy who puts all his eggs in one basket, but I don’t want a single escape plan with you. If something happens to us, or between us, or whatever, instead of running away, I want to stick it out and work through it. And I’ve actually never felt like that with anyone else, so I guess it’s a little scary.” He shrugs like this isn’t the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

You put a hand on his cheek, and he leans into it, comforted by the touch. “You’re scared I might break your heart?” you ask him.

He gives a tiny nod.

You use your thumb to rub over his cheekbone thoughtfully before responding. “Well, I think that’s good,” you finally say.

“Hm,” he hums. “Why?”

“Because I feel that way too. So if we both ... I don’t know, if we both risk it together, I think we have a real shot.” You swallow a laugh at how dire you’re making it sound, and Vernon beams at you. As if unable to resist, he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and wraps his arms around your waist. 

“Me too,” he says, and kisses you briefly on the lips before pulling you into a deep hug.