#Get scooped everyone who posted this later than me

[maeamian]

FETCH ME THE FUCKIN' CRABS KISSINGER'S DEAD

[lilac-5ky]

TOJI AND VIRGIN READER!

The Favor (officeAU!Toji x virgin!Fem!Reader)

Plot: The first day you met Toji, he told you everything on his CV was a lie. Three years later, he's your beloved work husband, the one you go to when you decide it's time to lose your virginity.

Tags: Office!AU, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f.receiving), agee gap (reader mid 20s, toji mid 30s), soft!dom toji, dirty talking, praising, pet names (sweetheart, darling, kid, wife, whore, slut, etc), aftercare, toji catches feelings after fucking you, daddy vibes without the word, friends to lovers dynamic, size kink, lube handjob, MDNI obviously.

A/N: Combined your idea with my intense need to write an office!au. Hopefully this turned out to your liking and you forgive me for writing this much filth LMAO

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For promotion, for demotion, for raises and for cuts, in overtime and in bureaucracy, until layoff do us part.

In the insufferable reality of Japanese corporate life, a work spouse exists to shoulder the burden of overdue deadlines and never-ending stacks of paperwork. A husband who, in spite of not being bound to you through marriage, has vowed to stick by your side until either one of you breaks free from the shackles of human resources; your work husband.

You met each other on your first day at the company, both of you passing interviews for the same lowly position of staffing coordinator.

Your first impression of candidate number 9 was that his suit wasn’t really his but was likely borrowed from someone whose bicep wasn’t the size of their thigh and calf combined. Your second impression was whispered to your ear as the dark haired man rose from his chair and paraded down the interview room, nonchalantly letting slip that his bachelor’s degree along with every bit of qualification on his CV had been faked.

Whether that was a declaration of war or a testament to his unparalleled confidence, you wouldn’t know until a week later when you were assigned to the same miserable office corner, sharing a desk, a title, and a secret whose value skyrocketed once you became acquainted with your work place’s imposing policies.

One word would get both him and his knowing smile fired, but the moment you shook hands with Fushiguro Toji and promised to get along, you signed yourself up for a long-lasting partnership.

Over the three years you worked together, each grew out of their initial post. Your all-nighters paid off and you got promoted to an HR assistant, meaning you didn’t have to memorize everyone’s coffee order any longer, while Toji flourished as the department’s eye candy.

He’d ceased pretending that his broad shoulders could be boxed in second-hand suit jackets, and instead opted for rolled-up button-ups with the occasional monochromatic tie—a fit that put his sculpted physique into full view and threw the entire female populace out of balance.

He was an objectively good-looking man who bordered on great. The type to be conscious of their effect on others, cutting corners with suggestive glances and smiling his way out of otherwise unforgivable report oversights. Every woman in the office was openly in love with him. Even your supervisor referred to him as the team’s ace and discreetly unbuttoned her cleavage in his presence.

You realized then, they’d sooner let go of you and your hard-earned master’s, than part with the department’s mascot.

Despite the differences in skill and appearance, your sense of kinship survived the passage of time. Perhaps you’d subconsciously fallen victim to his charms, but whenever you saw his thin brows furrow and his right foot threaten the unresponsive copy machine with a killing blow, you couldn’t look away. This is a favor; you’d remind him at every formal email and resume assessment you helped put together.

And favors are repaid.

While Toji couldn’t assist with payroll processing, he always had the scoop on who cheated on their spouse with whom and whose bra was filled with padding—which you didn’t find all that interesting, but turned into a fun game of guess the cheater during dull 9 a.m. meetings.

On mornings when the alarm was hurled at your bedroom wall, he made excuses for your absence, and on work dinners, he saved you a seat away from all the grabby drunks.

Toji was far from a good person. His mere presence in a company you’d broken your back to get into was a mockery of your efforts. He led others on and got into muffled shutouts over his phone behind the water fountain, where he thought no one was listening in.

That’s how you found out about his eight-year-old kid and the custody battle with his allegedly “psychotic” ex-wife. He didn’t know you knew because you never told him. Everyone had skeletons in their closet, and it wasn’t your job to sort his out. As far as your work marriage was concerned, he was a good husband who diligently fulfilled his marital duties—all except one, which you feared the pretext of a favor wouldn’t begin to cover.

“Here’s your poison,” you slid the scalding coffee cup in his direction, mindful of the papers on his desk. “Black Americano with four shots of espresso and no sugar to compliment your wretched dark soul.”

Toji raised an open palm in your face, motioning for you to wait until he was done punching words on the keyboard and pressed save file. Your eyes were drawn to his fingers, threaded with faded scars that followed the expanse of veins down his wrists, dipping deep below the white cotton of his shirt. Another unsolved mystery you hadn’t gotten to the bottom of.

He brought the cup to his equally scarred lips, defying the steam spirals with a long-drawn sip. “Unnecessary intro, but thanks.” He gave a lazy smile. “Aren’t ya a sweetheart?”

You dropped your beverage on your side of the desk and swiveled your chair nearer. “Think you could do said sweetheart a favor?

“A favor, huh?” His breath was laced with caffeine. “Depends. If you’re asking for a buck, ‘fraid I’m all dried up till the end of the month.”

So he isn’t planning on paying for his order.

“I make more than you.”

“Doesn’t mean ya can’t find yourself in a pickle.”

You shook your head, stealing a sip of liquid courage from your mocha. How did people ask those things again?

Your contemplation lasted long enough for him to turn his head back to work, filling his home screen with enough tabs to distract you from his unfinished round of solitaire.

“What are you doing after work?” Your voice cracked into shards of uncertainty.

“Nice try.”He sneered. “You dug your own grave taking on the grievance procedures from the union. Climb out on your own.”

“Not everyone offloads their work load on others, Toji.” You rolled your eyes, scooting even closer to make sure only he’d be the recipient of your next words.

He sensed something was off because he wasn’t pretending to input random lines into the search bar anymore, and while he studied you, you studied him back. You had your doubts about this, and you weren’t sure he was your type either. You liked your men responsible and mature—like Nanami from sales, who would’ve been your first choice if your legs didn’t turn into jelly the minute you saw him.

Toji was the safe option. You talked to him. You joked with him. You were used to him, and more importantly, you trusted him. All the lack of qualifications in his job, he made up for with his experience in that other field you were a stranger to.

“Hey, kid.” His voice mellowed down with a beat of concern, a heavy hand landing on your shoulder. “If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble, I—”

“Please have sex with me.”

“Make yourself at home.” He nudged your back into the apartment, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were following even after he’d pulled away.

Moving forward felt hard—as if you’d forgotten how to. You weren’t sure whether to wipe your shoes on the mat or stash them in the corner. You didn’t know which foot to put forth and what set of slippers to pick. Every decision suddenly mattered a lot more than it should.

You’d never been to Toji’s house before, and up until a few hours ago, you couldn’t fathom standing at his doorstep either. You weren’t that close so as to meet outside work hours, but you were about to get a lot more up close and personal.

The way he accepted your request with a mere, almost offensive, okay still boggled your brain. You’d considered every question he could possibly ask, painstakingly compiling your list of answers like a witness called to the stand, only for him to not speak a word of it—not even when it was just you and him and the solitude that came from enjoying lunch a hundred stories above Tokyo’s bustling streets.

He seemed to have forgotten all about your plans, up until he pulled over at the bus stop where you were waiting and stuffed you in the front seat of his car.

“You coming?”

Kicking your heels off your feet, you skipped straight through the hallway, your head turning left and right as if you were at an art gallery. You didn’t know what to expect, but a high-end apartment in the heart of Minato wasn’t it. Neither your income nor his justified an inox steel kitchen with mahogany wood flooring—let alone a direct view of the illuminated Tokyo Tower.

You were so bedazzled by the city skyline that you nearly missed the hastily buried socks peeking beneath the kotatsu, along with the cobwebs his untouched bookshelf flaunted. Much like his suit, his apartment was handed to him by someone whose love for both their books and spouse had run out.

“Whaddya think?”

Toji stalked behind you, his reflection in the glass becoming more defined with every step he took. He was holding something in each hand—two glasses whose orange liquid sparkled in place of the stars.

You turned around slowly, accepting your share with a small smile on your face.

“Your ex-wife has good taste.”

He blinked, taken aback for a split second. He wondered what gave it out—the pink slippers or the flipped-down picture frames you’d yet to notice—and somewhere down the line, he got the wrong idea, beaming with an unwarranted “Thanks.”

“I meant the house, not you.” Although you couldn’t blame him for his inflated ego when every female practically dropped their panties at his feet. Especially not when you were there to do the same.

Your teeth clicked sharply against the glass as you tilted your head and sipped on what tasted too sweet to be whiskey. Apple Juice?

“That’s not alcohol.” You stated.

“Ever thought of becoming a detective?” Toji padded toward the leather couch, spreading his thighs across the two middle cushions.

“Ever thought of becoming a comedian?” You retorted, squeezing in to his left. The furniture would’ve been big enough to fit you both, had he been considerate. “So what’s the joke? Too young to be drinking, or hard liquor ain’t for pretty girls like me?”

“Nah.” His head dropped on his shoulder, both propped against the headrest. “Need you sober for what’s about to happen.”

You mirrored his stance, your knees touching as you folded them on the smooth leather. “And what’s about to happen?”

“I think we both know, or else ya wouldn’t have followed me here.” He wet his bottom lip, pretty green eyes clouding dark.

A certain dryness gnawed at your throat, the pink color of his tongue appealing to you more than it should. You weren’t interested in Toji, but the strands of black that fell over his forehead painted a cuter image than you were used to seeing at the office. You wondered what he’d look like with his hair pushed back, all slick from beads of sweat rolling down his temples. And when you realized you couldn’t pin any of those thoughts on the alcohol, you took another sip, hurriedly averting your gaze.

“How many have? Women from work, I mean.”

You were surprised to hear him state “None,” and even more surprised that he claimed not to mix business with pleasure. You could think of at least three coworkers you suspected he fooled around with. At least so they bragged in the ladies’ room.

“So why bring me home?”

“‘Cause you asked.” Toji said gruffly.

“You fuck every woman who asks you to?”

“Only the cute ones.”

Your cheeks flushed red as you reminded yourself to take his words with a grain of salt. He wasn’t interested in you any more than you were in him. This was simply platonic—almost transactional. He’d do what you asked, and then you’d pay him back with another, mundane favor like sorting mail in his stead.

You finished your drink, your eyes licking up the remaining drops at the bottom of the glass. “This line works?”

Toji shrugged. It probably did. He probably didn’t even have to open his mouth for it to work. While the moment you opened yours—

“Want more?” He motioned to your glass. You nodded, extending your arm, only for his expression to turn sour. “I’m not your fucking maid. Bottle’s on the counter.”

You sighed, getting up so he wouldn’t see your eyes roll at his comment as he shoved his glass in your face. Who’s the maid now?

Aimlessly, you strolled into the kitchen, taking longer than necessary to fill both your glasses. You didn’t mean to start snooping around, but you couldn’t help yourself from seeking a sign of his presence in his picture-perfect apartment. Houses typically reveal something about their residents, and while the display of crystal glasses spoke plenty of his ex-wife, there was no evidence of Toji’s personality.

You weren’t interested in him—just curious. That’s what you kept telling yourself as you picked up a frame stowed away behind an empty cookie jar.

Four smiles greeted you, the brightest belonging to a young girl with elongated bangs, holding a boy who strove to copy his sister’s expression. Their parents stood behind them, a beautiful woman with long brown hair tucked in a ponytail blissfully leaning against the shoulder of a Toji that seemed less happy the longer you processed his strained features.

“She left.” The proximity of his voice startled you. The frame danced between your fingers until he snatched it, his jutted-out chin betraying his annoyance. “Took the kids, left the house and me behind. Ain’t that what ya wanted to hear?”

You shook your head, about to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness on his parquet. However, the hostility that rose faded as soon as he threw the picture in the first open drawer and returned to the living room, leaving you to fetch your drinks. Then you remembered the phone calls. They weren’t on good terms.

“Having kids isn’t bad. Nor being divorced.” You handed him the glass, assuming your previous position on the couch. “Doesn’t ruin your cool guy image whatsoever.”

“Who said I care about that?” Toji snorted.

“Then you wouldn’t care if anything slipped in front of your fan club?”

“Mind your own fucking business.” He hissed. You chuckled. Sharing a couch wasn’t that much different from sharing a desk, and sharing two secrets was the same as sharing one.

“What are your kids’ names?”

“Kid,” he corrected. “Megumi.”

By the name, you assumed it was the girl. You were wrong. You tried to ask something about his son’s mother, but somehow you couldn’t find one right thing to say, since the woman in the photo wasn’t the boy’s biological mom either. You were lost. The more cryptic answers he gave, the more unanswered questions you ended up with.

Your plan took a backseat while Toji trod the sensitive topic of his divorce to that “bitch,” who’d taken his kid from him out of spite. The custody battle was tipped in her favor, courtesy of a legal system that’d rather see a child separated from its biological parent in the face of cold cash.

Megumi only visited every second weekend of the month, which explained his father’s eagerness to leave early on certain Fridays and come late on the following Mondays. He didn’t need to say this, but you understood his reasons for cheating his way into the company. A proper job looked good in court, and whatever earned him those scars was far from proper.

Both your hands emptied as you finished your second round of drinks. Your head would be buzzing if there was alcohol involved, but you didn’t miss it. Toji was hard to engage, and talking to him felt like running into one brick wall after another. However, working out of those dead-ends was preferable to clinking glasses with some guy who wouldn’t quit boasting about his Ivy League diploma or his burning passion for vocaloid singers—both cases reflecting the sad reality of blind dating in your twenties.

“So.” Toji drawled, a burly arm stretching behind your head. “Why you want me to fuck you? Can’t find good dick in the market?”

Your mind went blank in an instant, every excuse and curated version of the story vanishing when you needed them the most.

“I—um,” you cleared your throat, while your eyes scanned over his body.

There was a lot to take in: the fine lines of his pecs, highlighted under the taut white fabric; the black tie hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar; the hem of his shirt that dangled out of his fitted pants, exposing the tiniest window to the happy trail on his lower abdomen; his slim waist and his thick thighs; the curve of his bum; and the light touch of his fingers closing around your shoulder. You traced the same route of landmarks, finding yourself returning to his achingly handsome face and the playful curiosity in his eyes that had you shifting in your place.

All the reasons for someone to want to be fucked by this fine specimen of a man were right there, and you picked the most inclusive one. “Because you’re hot.”

The ends of his scar drew apart as Toji smiled a wolfish smile. He inched closer, your back hitting the armrest when his right hand caged your body between his arms and the couch.

“Bullshit.” A tickle from where his nose brushed against yours, and a thud from where your heart dropped inside your chest. “You think I wouldn’t know if ya had the hots for me, kid?”

“N-not everyone throws themselves at others.” You tried to reason.

“Maybe. But attraction comes with signs.” The side of his hand grazed the corner of your eyelid. “Batting your pretty lashes,” he trailed off, rough knuckles softly tracing the apple of your cheek. “Blushing your cheeks red.” The pad of his thumb swiped down your cupid’s bow. “Biting your lip raw.” He continued with his eyes, glancing at the skirt that lay high above your knees suggestively. “Pressing those plushy thighs together.”

“You do none ‘f those things.” Toji accused. “So why the sudden itch? Indulge me, and I’ll pound that pussy till ya scream.”

The promise of his words forced a gulp down your throat as your thighs involuntarily rubbed together. You started to reconsider. You didn’t want to fuck him just because any man would do. You wanted to fuck him because it was him and because every patch of skin he made contact with begged to be touched again.

“I’m a virgin.” You admitted, voice low, and stare even lower—utterly defeated as he flinched away in surprise.

You wondered what he’d say. A virgin at your age? was the most common response, followed by Is something wrong with you? and typically concluded with You sure you’re not a lesbian?

Everyone preaches how precious innocence is, but no one wants the pressure of taking it. What men really want is a woman who is both a saint and a slut—a woman who can suck their dick ten inches deeper than they can provide while simultaneously shying away from every insinuation of sex.

The problem is with the poor souls who belong in either category without adhering to the other, because squeezing your legs shut is just as faulty as spreading them open for the public.

Seeing as Toji remained silent, you realized you wouldn’t get an answer, and maybe it was for the best. You didn’t want to put a strain on your work relationship. It’d take a while to look him in the eye again, but in a month or two, you’d laugh about the incident over a cup of soggy store-bought noodles like nothing happened.

“Sorry for bothering you.” You mumbled as you picked up your last vestige of dignity and stood on your feet, only to be anchored by a set of fingers that tightly gripped your wrist.

“Sit.” His unfaltering gaze confirmed the sincerity of his command.

You thought about breaking free and dashing to the door. You thought about how much it’d actually hurt to let him ridicule you, and the tears started to build up on their own. And when you didn’t do as you were told, he towered over you with a palm that was eager to cup your cheek, tilting your face in position for him to print a rough kiss on your parted lips.

“I said fucking sit.” Toji repeated, while you contemplated how someone who spews words so harshly could have such soft lips.

Sheepishly, you fell back onto the couch, expecting him to follow suit and not kneel on the floor like he did. “What’s the story?” He asked, large hands taking hold of your knees and slowly rubbing them apart.

“What makes you think there’s a story?” You prayed that he couldn’t feel your heartbeat bounce across your body as if it were an empty vessel.

“With you, there always is.” He licked his lips as his eyes settled between your thighs, darkening with lust the second they were met with the damp patch in the middle of your pink lace knickers. “Wanna hear all about it while I feast on your little hole.”

“You’re not gonna fuck—”

“First things first, sweetheart. Gotta make sure y’are all prepped before I stuff you with my cock.” Toji smiled, pushing your skirt until it rolled over your stomach. “If ya gonna scream my ears off, better be from pleasure, mm?”

You nodded, watching as his slender fingers slid your underwear off and temporarily—you hoped—shoved it in his back pocket. You saw him marvel at the sight of your exposed cunt and wished you could peer into his brain to hear him curse himself for not coming up with this idea first.

You looked so pretty down there, your puffy clit safely tucked behind its hood while your lips shimmered with your wetness—the scent so intoxicating his pants tightened into a size too small.

He was already considering his next favor. Now that the door was open, he’d make sure it never closed again. Bending you over the copy machine was the front-runner. Getting a print of your tits squeezed against the scanner while he blows your back, his palm muffling out the pathetic sounds you let slip—he’d be lying if that wasn’t what he fantasized about whenever you refilled the ink cartridges for him.

“Ya ever touch yourself here?”

His thumb swiped over your clit, drawing an incomplete circle that ended with light flicks around the sensitive nub. Left and right. Up and down. Searching for the combination that’d have your body answer in place of your mouth, and when your hips bucked forward, he knew exactly where to press.

“Y-yes!” You whined, more as a reaction than an answer to his question.

“And ya ever push a finger in?” He continued, teasingly dragging his thumb between your lips.

“Just one. Rest hurt.”

“Mhm, bet they do.” He hummed as he tasted you on his finger, exaggerating the suck with a soft pop. “Ever had a guy kiss ya there before?”

Toji gave his own answer as he buried his head in your pussy, the sticky mix of his saliva and your juices trickling down your entrance while he made out with your clit. You struggled to keep your thighs apart, the raspy grunts at the back of his throat vibrating against your mound in joint symphony with your breathy moans. His tongue felt so good soaking on your slick that you felt yourself melting into a pool of pleasure.

“Get talkin’ or I’ll stop.” He warned, slowing down with broad, near-maddening, strokes that occasionally dipped between your folds.

“I wanted to w-wait,” you panted. “Wanted to fall in love first, but then I waited too long, and—ngh, fuck, right there!” Toji pinched your folds apart, his stare lecherous as he sucked the puffy pearl into his warm mouth.

Your body jerked in response, the leather squeaking hard beneath your bared ass. You weren’t sure at what point interest surpassed curiosity, but the signs were all there, manifesting as heat in your cheeks and blood that threatened to drop from your chewed-up lip.

His jade eyes narrowed into a shrewd reminder. Putting your thoughts in order was impossible, but if you stopped, so would he.

“Everyone ‘round me started d-doing it, and I was the only one l-left.” You tried to regulate your breathing through your nose, your throat turning hoarse from all the strain. “Went on a bunch of blind dates, but the guys were t-turned off, and—how the fuck are you so good at this?”

Toji chuckled, the pink tip of his tongue parting your lips in a languid motion that made you shudder. “Let’s just say my marriage didn’t fall apart ‘cause of this.”

He mounted your knees atop his shoulders and neared your entrance, with his middle and ring fingers ghosting over the softness of your pulsing slit. “Gonna use my fingers now. Be a good girl and cum on them, will ya?”

The first digit pushed forward, much thicker than any of your fingers. You felt so full already—nails digging into the cushions, while he thrust in and out of your walls, curling the lone pad to find a spot so sweet it elicited a moan of equal sweetness.

“Ya did well to come to me.” He continued, his raspy voice effortlessly sexy. “Kids these days don’t know shit ‘bout pleasing a woman.”

The veins on his wrist flexed along with his scars as his ring finger joined in the action to defy your previous claim. There was no pain. Only immense waves of pleasure leaking through your squinted eyes as hot tears beaded your eyelashes.

“Doin’ so good for me, darlin’.” He praised, repeatedly hitting the swollen bundle of nerves inside your throbbing cunt, bringing you closer to the edge with each thorough pump.

“Maybe I was wrong, hm? Maybe that’s what ya wanted all along. I know I did. Fucking wanted my hands on this pussy since I first saw ya fidget with your little skirt at that interview.”

“Toji—”

He dived between your legs again, his hand maintaining the same erratic pace even while his tongue hungrily lapped at your clit. Your head lolled back, the tension in your guts rapidly building up until you came undone, your pussy clenching and creaming around his calloused fingers.

You’d never finished so hard on your own, the tremors of your orgasm ringing in your ears and jogging your memory.

Your first impression on that day was sadness, right? Sadness over the wedding band the handsome stranger hid in his pocket right before entering the building, thinking no one else caught sight of it, and embarrassment about how your impure thoughts for a married man followed you into the shower every night after work.

“Atta girl.” A present-day and very-much divorced Toji licked his lips into a smile. “Their fucking loss.”

His knee pressed into the gap between your thighs as he stood on his feet and prompted you to open your lips. You took his fingers in your mouth, licking your cum off while your chest heaved with one labored breath after the other.

“See how good ya taste?” Toji cooed, rhythmically fucking his fingers on your tongue before removing them. “Sweeter than honey.”

“Thought you didn’t like sweet things.” His coffee order came in mind.

“How ‘bout we make an exception?”

You weren’t sure what got into you when you grabbed him by the tie and pulled him forward, kissing him with such vigor you’d never experienced. You always thought of losing your virginity as checking an item off your bucket list. You didn’t imagine you could ever lust after someone the way you currently lusted after Toji, your desire escalating into an all-consuming need.

His tongue moved as skillfully in your mouth as it did when it explored your pussy, dancing with your own rather than overpowering it. You liked kissing him. You liked kissing him so much that you wanted to incorporate it into your morning hellos and your evening goodbyes, dragging yourselves into an endless loop of returned favors.

Without breaking the kiss, Toji hoisted you up from the couch and held you in his arms, his palms finding the perfect excuse to grab onto your ass while he carried you across rooms you didn’t care enough to see. A door creaked behind your back, and soon you were tossed onto a large body of endless softness—a bed, you realized as Toji hastily shoved a couple of pillows behind your head.

“Ever heard of that stupid nickname that goes ‘round work?” He whispered in your ear while his fingers worked on undoing your blouse. “How they call ya my work wife?” His palms slid around your ribs and back to unhook your bra. “Guess this makes it our wedding night, heh.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a chuckle. “Don’t you feel any shame calling me your wife when you’re about to fuck me on your ex-wife’s bed?”

“My bed now, and what I say fucking goes.” He stripped your body from every garment, salaciously gawking at your nude figure on his (her) satin sheets.

You didn’t feel too bad about showing your body, but his stare was almost intrusive—especially with how he hadn’t lost a single article of clothing himself.

“Such a gorgeous body, wife.” He dragged out the final syllables, hoping to elicit a reaction separate from the soft pants you let out as he caressed your soft curves—both much softer than the bedding you were splayed across, liquid velvet in his hands. “Such a good little wife, saving herself for her husband to deflower.”

“Why thank you, husband.” You chortled, cupping his face in a deep kiss.

You knew Toji was the right choice. Not because touching him felt like winning the lottery or because he knew exactly what he was doing, but because he could’ve made this situation a lot more awkward and didn’t. He made your first time feel special, granting your wish of doing it with someone you loved, even if it was all an illusion that’d fade come tomorrow morning.

You almost thanked him as he began to unbutton his shirt, the display of corded muscles and pale scars breaking the dam between your legs. Whatever your type might’ve once been, was no more. It was all Toji, with his clenched fists lifting the weight of his brawny, veiny arms, his shoulders so wide you could ride on them, and the self-complacent smirk your stupefied expression brought to his lips.

“This ain’t an exhibit, sweetheart.” He mocked. “You can touch all ya want.”

He didn’t need to say it twice for your palms to roam his body, starting from his neck and slowly gliding down his torso, feeling out the tension in his steeled abdomen. His skin was smooth, except for the few unruly hairs leading down to the bulge in his crotch, whose sight alone made you lick your lips and buck your hips into his. You wanted to see the rest of him.

“You are the hottest divorcee I know.” You smiled earnestly.

“Ya know lots of ‘em?” Toji cocked his head while you shook yours with a giggle. “Don’t be so flattering.”

“I do have a great-aunt…”

“Oh, please.” He groaned, allowing you to laugh it out. He didn’t like how his bottom lip twitched as he struggled to contain a chuckle of his own. He’d long sworn off girls that made his heart skip a beat.

“Think y’are ready?” You nodded. Repeatedly.

Digging his knees into the bed, he stretched an arm toward the nightstand, fishing for a bottle in one of the drawers. Lube, you realized as he settled it beside you to remove his pants, flinging them along with his boxers to the other side of the room.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, an expression that didn’t look too good considering fear was about the last emotion you should be experiencing.

He was packing in every sense of the word. Long, thick, and definitely heavy as it hung above his hefty balls, the reddened tip pointing at your entrance. It wasn’t like you’d never seen a cock before. Porn existed, and so did perverts in trench coats, but comparing either one to him was both disrespectful and a huge understatement.

“Don’t go cold on me now, mm? It will fit.” He read your mind, taking your hand in his and slotting the bottle in your fist. “Prepped you so good for it. You’ll see; you’ll like this more than my fingers.”

“Promise.” He added, squeezing your hand reassuringly. You chose to trust him, and when he brought your other hand to his shaft, you knew what he was asking you to do.

The bottle spurted a thick glob of liquid that your palm smeared all over his cock head. Toji watched with bated breath as you stroked his length, each thorough pump of your delicate hands warming him up.

He deserved a pat on the back for not cumming right then and there—the distinction between the clear lubricant and his creamy precum becoming more prominent while he throbbed and twitched in your tight grasp. He thought about how much tighter your walls would be, milking every drop he had to offer while you writhed beneath him, with little ah-ah-ah’s and Toji please’s complimenting the squelching of your tight virgin cunt.

“That’s enough.”

He pulled your hand away and cracked the bottle open once more, rubbing a small quantity between his fingers and then scissoring them in your walls. You clung onto him, your hips chasing after his touch. Cute.

“Eyes on me, darlin’.” Toji leaned close enough so that your field of view was consumed by his face. “Keep your eyes on me, breath in ‘n’ out, and it won’t hurt one bit. I’ll take good care of ya.”

Your legs were parted as he ran his cock between your folds and pressed down firmly, his hand moving to your hip once he guided the first inches inside.

Toji was the first to react as he sank in deeper, about two-thirds in when he felt your pussy snare around him like a vice, the warmth of your walls making him curse under his breath. His last fuck was less than a weekend ago, and yet he felt like one of those loser kids he scorned earlier. He’d forgotten just how good being inside a virgin was—a one-and-done deal that would cease to amaze him after he fucked you into his shape.

“All good?” He remembered to ask, taking your strained yes at face value.

Small creases formed over your forehead, contorting your expression into a pained wince the further he sheathed himself into your wet cavern—and when his words weren’t enough, his lips took over. He kissed your worries away and cradled your breasts in his palms, doing everything in his power to keep the pain to a minimum as his hips met with your pelvis, bone against bone and skin against skin, until he finally bottomed out.

A whimper cut your kiss short, and for a second he feared tears would stream from your glassy eyes, not considering the possibility of your shaky legs wrapping around his back and your swollen, pretty lips calling out his name with a stuttered moan.

“F-fuck me, Toji. Please—fuck, I need you so badly.” You begged, dropping the pretense of composure.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck your little virgin pussy?”

“Y-yes, Toji, yes!”

“Yes, what, doll?” He teased. “Say it.”

“Please be my first, Toji.”

His grin turned feral in a heartbeat, your words stirring something in him that he could not explain.

He was prepared to spend the entire night fucking you at a snail’s pace, buttering you up with praises, and pampering you as if you were a golden egg goose, but now he didn’t have to. He could fuck you exactly how he pleased—fold your knees onto your stomach and hold down onto your thighs, pussy all exposed to where he could watch his cock pound into your hole and hear each and every strike of his balls against the fat of your ass—and you would take it.

But when he looked down and saw the ring of red that’d formed around his shaft, he had a change of heart. Maybe another time.

Planting his fingers on your hips, he withdrew slightly, purposely aligning his tip with the roof of your cunt. He didn’t have to go hard to make you happy. All he had to do was hit that one spot, and you’d be coming back for more. Having a steady thing wouldn’t hurt either. It was convenient—certainly better than burning gas driving across town just to pick up some random slut he’d tire of five minutes into her over-the-top screams. At least you lived close by.

With lavish strokes, he rolled his hips against your own, dipping forward to grind his pubic bone against your mound. It didn’t take long for the stimulation to get overwhelming, your hair falling from your strict work up-do all over your sweaty forehead while you thrashed around the sheets, huffs escalating into whiny moans.

“Sh-shit, gonna cum, Toji.” You managed, though there was no real need to tell him.

Your body responded perfectly to his, wetness gushing over his cock while your walls tightened impossibly around him. He fucked you through your high, wrapping his arms below your shoulders and muting your blissful sobs to chase after his own release. Your breasts were squeezed against his pecs, pebbled nipples making him regret not giving them the proper attention.

This wouldn’t be the last time. Your body was like a playground to him, and he sure as hell wasn’t done playing.

“My fucking work wife.” Toji grunted possessively in your ear, nipping at the lobe. Only his lower half moved, a constant snap of hips bouncing through the room as the second lewdest sound after the ones you traded. “Wanna send your ass crawling to work on all fours. That’ll show them, mm? Show them who fucked you so good. What a—fuck, what a good slut y’are f’me. From a virgin to my whore—hah, make ‘em all so jealous.

“Shhhhit, ya like that?” He interpreted your clenching as he willed. “Wanna start a rumor? Fuck on every desk, in every stall, and have everyone know?”

“Yes, Toji! Yesyesyes, want everyone to know you f-fucked me.”

You went back and forth between panting out his name and chanting yes, as those were the only two words you could mindlessly repeat. He wasn’t joking about making you scream. You were on the verge of passing out, so engrossed in ecstasy that you’d lost track of how many times you’d climaxed.

“‘s too much, T-Toji!” You begged, burying your head in the curve of his neck and breathing in his musk. You were both so sweaty, glued together like two puzzle pieces.

“One more, sweetheart. ‘m so close—wanna feel ya cum with me.”

He toyed with your clit until he started to fall out of pace, drawing his cock out before it was caught in the spasms of your pussy. A hefty load burst in his fist as he jerked himself off to your fucked-out form, hot drops of cum spraying your stomach like creamy droplets of rain.

Neither of you realized how soaked the sheets were until Toji left the bed, his eyes not faking their surprise. You didn’t seem to be in that much pain, and yet the amount of blood and wetness was at least equal to carnage.

Would it be a dick move to task you with his laundry?

He spared you a glance, not bothering to hide his smugness. Your legs were still trembling, your breasts puffing up in your struggle to breathe through your agape lips. He was tempted to tell you off—something cheesy like, “Want somethin’ in your mouth that badly?”

“Hey, kid. You are not dead—are you?” He asked jokingly, laughing through his nose as you found the strength to flip him off. Now that the effects of your orgasm were wearing off, so was your obedience.

“How’d ya like your first time?” A thumbs-up this time. “A’right. C’mere.”

The longer he let the stain settle, the more of a bitch it’d be to remove it. That’s what Toji told himself as he picked you up in his arms and carried you into the bathroom, returning to the bedroom only to roll the sheets into a ball he’d later discard in the washing machine. He wasn’t avoiding looking at your cute face, and he definitely didn’t think of your weakened infant-like state as cute when he scrubbed your thighs clean with a wet towel either.

A weird image sparked in his memory, one from the many nights you’d spent working side by side at a dimly lit office. He remembered you ordering him takeout and looming over his head like a vulture while he went neck-to-neck with the vicious spreadsheet program. You insisted on tutoring him, claiming your dressy outfit was a result of canceled plans—even though you kept stealing glances at the clock—and staying with him until the wee hours when you didn’t have to.

You really were a sweetheart, an angel, and all the other terms of endearment he used on you knowing they made your lips stretch and your eyes sparkle. But that wasn’t for you to know.

“Toji?” Your voice jolted him out of his reverie—frail, but not as frail as the hands that wrapped around his own to snatch the towel.

What could he say to make you leave without any harsh feelings coming back to bite him in the ass?

He pondered his options while you bent forward from where he’d seated you on the counter by the sink. You held his limp dick in your palm, gently wiping the dried blood and cum that clung to his girth.

It was sickening how quickly he stiffened, all ready to ram it in your pussy and fuck you with the mirrored view of your ass in the backdrop, but what truly made his guts churn was the little cheeky smile you beamed with. He stood by his words. Virgins were the biggest sluts.

The towel dropped to the floor as you pointed his cock at your entrance, and that was all the convincing he needed.

“Fine.” Toji sighed, pinning your wrists on the cold quartz counter top. “You can stay the night, but mention work and I’m kicking ya out.”

This is definitely not how you say it.

You made it to the office the next day after a brief raid on your apartment. Going to work in your previous day’s clothes screamed, “Look at me! I got laid!” And as fun as creating all those fantasies with Toji was, you could do without earning “Hated Employee of the Month.” Everyone hated you for being friends with him as is.

He waited until you’d changed into a presentable outfit and dropped you off a block further away for precaution. You shared your final kiss in the car, wasting a whole fifteen minutes sucking each other’s faces off like teenagers at a drive-in. Dating a colleague was against the rules, and you didn’t want to date Toji either. Not that he’d asked. Not that you expected him to ask.

Losing your virginity was a lot more complicated than you thought.

He counted on you to bring coffee, and you would have if an intense craving for spicy tuna onigiri didn’t win you over. The convenience store was right around the corner, and its coffee was honestly not that bad if you squinted your eyes and fooled your senses a bit.

You grabbed two onigiri from the stand—in case Toji felt like stealing yours—along with an apple juicebox, both as a means of thanking and poking fun at him. You paid for the items and walked to the office, nauseated by the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You should’ve really eaten something instead of having your final hookup at the breakfast table.

A few people greeted you in and out of the elevator to the forty-seventh floor, some commenting on your looking less gloomy than usual, but that was about it. The world spun the same way it did even before you had sex. No big change or mind-blowing epiphany; just a euphoric feeling of accomplishment that dissipated the moment you saw the stack of documents waiting on your desk.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Toji magically sprouted from behind, loaded binders balanced on his arms—the same arms that’d lavished you with affection all night long. “They had a fall out at one of the subsidiaries, and now we gotta clean up their shit.”

And back to reality we go.

“Where’s my coffee?” He searched for a cup on his desk.

You pushed your desperation aside and held the juice to his face with a smile that turned awkward the longer he took to accept it.

“It’s um, you know.” You stepped closer, placing the box atop his mountain of files. “Thank you.”

“Also, got you this, so don’t even think of taking mine.” You balanced the onigiri beside the juice and plopped down on your chair, an antsy, blushing mess that refused to meet his stare until he looped an arm around your headrest and attached his mouth to your ear.

“Care to do me a favor?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: I am queuing this so who knows if Im still suffering.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The morning is going splendid. You spilled your coffee and the tea you packed in a thermos, you left on your counter. The realisation doesn’t hit you until you pull up to the site. You huff and hang your head, gripping the steering wheel as you brace yourself for your caffeine withdrawal. 

At least it’s dry. Mostly. As Thor forecast, the rain didn’t come until the night. The steady patter kept you awake, along with that lingering displacement that never quite leaves you. Fatigue is another constant. Your new normal; sleepless nights and sleepy days. 

You get out and set to work. It’s all you can do. It’s all you’ve been doing. Just keep going. It doesn’t matter how, just get it done, get through the day. 

You yawn at your task, brushing digging, oh so gently wiggling the little form. It’s almost out. Almost free. In your eagerness for some progress, you get careless. Your hand slips and the spearhead grazes our palm. Is isn’t until the stinging splits your skin that you realise it’s a slash. 

Damn it, you didn’t put your damned gloves on. 

Great, with the luck you’re having, you’ve just contracted some ancient virus. You hiss and grip your wrist. Your adrenaline triggers your heart. You take a few breaths to stay calm as you watch the blood bead to the surface. 

You curse and stagger to your feet. You grab the rag from your back pocket and clutch it in your injured hand. You grip it tight as you cross the site, careful not to tread to heavily, and you angle the fencing to sidle between two panels.  

You clumsily pull open the car door and reach under the seat. You always keep an emergency with you. It’s a rule of thumb for your sort of work. You never know what might happen. Bug spray, sunscreen, bandages, swabs, a hole trove of supplies. 

You shake as the pain intensifies, thrumming through your palm. You come out and rest the plastic tote on the hood and sift through with your single hand. This is going to be awkward as hell. While you enjoy your solitary, it can sometimes be unsettling. What if something worse happened? 

“Ruff, ruff, rrrrruffffff,” the growlish yet high-pitched barking comes from up the mountain road. 

You pause as he peek under the rag and peer up as gravel mulches. Another visit? Your work is so boring, you wouldn’t expect him again. Thor appears as Thunder hops before him, spastic as she sniffs the ground in circles. He smiles and waves but you can only manage a grimace before you look back to your wound. 

“Morning,” he booms as he scoops up the small dog and nears the other side of the car, “it’ll be a sunny one.” 

“You sure?” You look up at the greyish blue skies, than at him. Hm, the hue of above is rather similar to his eyes.  

“I know so,” he assures you and tilts his head curiously, “why are you so grim?” 

You show him your hand as you lift the cloth from it. He lets out a sympathetic hum and sets Thunder on the ground. She runs over to inspect the fence as he rounds the hood towards you. As he gets closer, his size is even more obvious. He’s well-built, you can see it even at a distance, but up close and personal, he’s almost inhuman in stature. 

“Yikes,” he offers his hand, “may I?” 

“Really, it’s not—I can handle it.” 

“I’m certain you can. Only the bravest woman would come to these grey lands and sit alone in the dirt,” he jokes. “Please, it’ll be easier with two hands.” 

You relent, a tinge of embarrassment hot in your cheeks, and peel the rag away. You hold your hand out to him and he brings one of his large ones to cradle it. Wow. He’s massive. The difference in your hands is startling. 

“Nasty cut,” he muses as he reaches over for the swabs you’ve piled out on the metal, “but it shouldn’t need more than a snug wrap.” 

“Thanks,” you look away, eyeing the dirt as his proximity makes you squirm.  

You can’t remember the last time a man touched you, especially a handsome one. Well, aside from Sam and Bucky but those were just hugs and usually ended in them arguing anyway. You’ve never been the most popular girl in the world and those men you managed to reel in didn’t stay on the hook very long. You never really tried to keep them. You were always too distracted. 

You wince as he wipes the cut with the alcoholic cloth. He softens his touch but holds your hand firm from beneath. He offers a rumbling apology as he focuses on tending to you. His intent is new to you. The way he looks at your palm holds more than any look you’ve ever gotten from a man. Or anyone. 

He crumples up the used wipe and takes another. He’s thorough. You feel a shiver roll through you despite the warmth in the air. He trades the wipe for the roll of gauze and wraps the strip around your hand, hooking over your thumb and looping your wrist. He uses the little metal clip to pin it then turns your hand over, brushing his own over it as he grins. 

“Good as new,” he announces, “though I recommend you not use it too much. And perhaps a pair of gloves.” 

“Yeah, I forgot. Long day.” 

“It’s nine in the morning?” He chuckles. 

“Yep,” you agree dryly. 

“Hopefully it gets better,” he says. 

“Yeah, maybe,” you agree dully and toss the things back in the tote.  

He picks it up before you can and keeps it from your reach, “like I said, you should take it easy.” 

“Well, there’s work to be done,” you say as he moves to the open door and slides the tote inside. “What are you doing back here?” 

“Ah, I let the queen lead the way,” he stands straight and closes the car door. He looks past you and your head perks up. Thunder is very quiet. “As ever, she does not tread with caution.” 

You turn to find the chihuahua inside the fence. You jump in place and sprint over, clattering between the panels as you call after her. “No, no, sweetie, be careful!” 

You chase her around where you were digging as you sense Thor watching from without. Great! You hope she didn’t pee anywhere. 

A sharp whistle pierces the air and Thunder stops. She sits in place, still wiggling, but doesn’t move. You peek back at Thor and he nods. You near her and pick her up. 

“Sorry about her, she is a free spirit,” he tuts as you cross back to him. “I will be certain she does not stray again. My apologies.” 

You’re taken aback by his sincerity. You try to remember the last time someone apologised to you and sounded like they meant it. Hell, when’s the last time you even got an apology. You dip out between the grating and hold out the dog. 

“I would hate to get in your way any more than we already have,” he hugs her with one arm and spreads his other hand over his chest, “we will be on our way. I do hope the sunshine brings some brightness to your day.” 

“Um, thanks,” you shift on your feet and hide your twiddling fingers. “You too.” 

“I’ve already found my sunlight,” he grins even wider and blinks, “now, Thunder, let’s go make a storm somewhere else.” He twists on his heel and lumbers off, “perhaps mother might put up with you for a time.” 

You stand just outside the fence and watch him go. A lock of his golden hair hangs loosely form his bun, dangling down his back, wagging almost like the dog’s little tail. He bounds over the lumpy ground and disappears behind the rock face. You look down and smile. 

Not everything is so bad and you can see the amber ribbon limning the clouds. The sun will be there soon. Just like he promised. 

💟

Thor comes back again. 

It’s a week since you cut your hand. Like before, you can’t predict him. You don’t hear him approach as he’s alone. You only notice him as he clangs something on the fence and lets out an ‘oops’. You pop your head up and look over at him through squinting eyes. Your forehead hurts from the expression. 

You smooth out your face and stand, facing him. He wiggles a metal canister in his hand. The wind sweeps the strands around his square jaw as the sky pulses in shades of gray behind him. 

“Thought you might like some hot tea,” he holds up the thermos. 

“Oh, uh... you didn’t have to...” you look at the sky and its quivering blanket. You’ve been pondering packing up for the last hour. “Thanks.” 

“Not to worry, I was restless.” 

“And you always go walking through the mountains when you’re bored?” You wonder as you step around the markers in the dirt. 

“I live here, there isn’t very much else to do and it isn’t a good day for swimming.” 

“Swimming?” You nod and click your tongue. “Sounds like the life to me.” 

“Mm, it can be rather languid when there isn’t work to do,” he turns the thermos in his hands as he talks, “Have you tried cloudberry?” 

“Cloudberry? Never heard of it.” 

He pokes the thermos between the panels and you take it. He pushes the barrier back into place between you, hooking his fingers into the links. You feel the warmth through the copper-coloured metal. 

“You didn’t have to come all this way for tea,” you laugh. 

“I wanted to ask after your hand. See how it’s healing,” he says. 

“Oh, uh,” you open and close your gloved hand, “just a scab now. I’m all good.” 

He smiles and keeps himself from leaning to heavily as the fence dips towards you. He coughs and realigns his feet, brushing back the looses strands around his face with a flick. He pushes his shoulders back and drops his hand. 

“So uh, you should try the tea. I put together the herbs myself, steeped it...” he bounces on his heels, “I suppose it’s not that impressive but it is good. Antioxidants, anti-inflammatory.” 

“Wow, sounds like one of those superfoods,” you scoffs as you pull of your glove and tuck it into your work belt. You untwist the cap and steam wisps out. You smell the tea and blow over it. You look up and find him watching you. “You’re starting to make me nervous, what’s in it?” 

“Just tea,” he assures. “I can’t lie to you, though. It wasn’t my idea. My mother suggested it. She’s very interested to see what you’re digging up but I’m afraid she can’t do much at the moment.” 

“Oh, your mother? Is she sick?” 

“She is in perfect health aside from her dislocated knee. She went rock climbing and well, accidents happen, eh?” 

“Yeah, sure do,” you show him your cut. “But they get better.” 

A lull rises as you take a dainty sip. The tartness tweaks your cheeks and you scrunch up your nose. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“It’s... different but not bad,” you say. “So, your parents live up here too?” 

“Mm, yes. I’m afraid I’m occupying their attic at the moment. I sold my home in Oslo, it was much too... cold.” 

You can’t help but snort, “it’s Norway.” 

“Ah, so it is. I should be used to it,” he agrees. “And how are you faring here? Have you adjusted to these dour lands?” 

“Eh, I’m trying,” you put the lid back on and turn it until tight. “Thanks for the tea.” 

“My pleasure,” he assures you. “Seems lonely work.” 

“I don’t mind it,” you shrug and cross your arms, tucking the thermos beneath one arm. 

“Interesting though. Have you found very much?” 

“Ugh, a spearhead and some pieces of the shaft. A vase, cracked though. Some beads.” 

“Beads,” he echoes thoughtfully, “is this all confidential?” 

“Not really, you wanna see?” 

“Very much so,” he says. 

“Right, uh, let me just...” 

You go back to where you were sat and plant the thermos in the dirt. You scurry around, overly aware of his observation, and go to the pin of your catalogued items. You find the bone beads and brings the little dish of them over to the fence. You hold them up as he peers between the links. 

“They have runes,” he intones. 

“Yeah, I’ve got the meaning of all of them except, er...” you pull out the single bead made of jade, “this one.” 

He hums and considers it closely, leaning in. 

“Not a rune. That’s a family symbol.” 

“Oh?” 

“My family’s.” 

“Wow, uh,” you lower your chin, “that’s... I... kinda feel like a thief.” 

“Can’t have cared very much about it if it’s down there,” he remarks, “you know, my father has mapped out much of our genealogy. As much as he can. He might be able to assist with your research, if he can find the time. Bit of a hermit these days.” 

“Oh, uh maybe, I’d hate to bother,” you smile sheepishly, “erm...” you look around, “where’s Thunder? Awful quiet without her.” 

“She’s keeping mother company. I’ve told her not to be too much of an imp, can’t have her making it worse,” he shakes his head. “The two of them are both stubborn as the other.” 

You can’t help the twitch in your eye. All this talk of your family has you suddenly homesick. You fight not to crack and swallow tightly. 

“Anyway, thanks again for the tea.” 

“Your parents must miss you,” he says abruptly. 

“Erm, yeah, my mom calls now and then but she’s better as an empty nester. Dad’s got his head under a hood most days so...” 

“Friends? Boyfriend?” He wonders. 

You arch a brow. He’s not very subtle and yet his inquiry can’t be anything but innocent, right? You’re still strangers. He can’t be into you. Not someone who looks like him. How long did you pray for Steve to even see you like that? This man is definitely not going to. 

“Friends. Sam likes to pester me when I should be sleeping and Bucky... they’re funny.” You sniff and gaze past him. You won’t mention that giant elephant in your head. The one you think about at night. 

“Lots to miss back home, it sounds like,” he breaks the silence before it can settle. 

“Yeah, but not every day you get to travel.” 

“And to a beautiful land,” Thor declares, “I hope one day you’ll come out of the dirt and see more of it. You’ll be surprised what lays further up the mountain.” 

You smile and look down, “yeah, maybe one day.” 

“Until then,” he backs up on his heel, “I won’t distract you any further. Enjoy your tea.” He turns and strides away, pausing halfway as you linger by the fence, “the rain will be here around five so I would leave early, otherwise you’ll be driving through it.” 

“Right,” your chest deflates just a little. You don’t know what you wanted him to say but you’re disappointed, “thanks.” 

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right… she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated? 

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table…. You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 

Devotion. 

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 

But you two are just friends. 

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids… and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable… or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, Trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready for anything that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh… I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.” 

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got Trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, Trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees.

Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stolls put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places... That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way… I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon… but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on.

When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

ask to be added to luke/general taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[headcanonenthusiast]

Alex Keller x chubby reader headcanons

Guess who's back with a 3rd Alex post in 3 days? These headcanons will be entirely SFW, focusing on a chubbier, gender-neutral reader, because Lord do we need more headcanons on this man, especially with chubby readers 🥲

Just a quick reminder that y'all are beautiful, no matter your weight 💙

Enjoy! 

-Ik I mentioned this in my NSFW Alex headcanons, but that one (obviously) was more sexual. But, he will still force you in front of a mirror, even in a non-sexual context, arms hugging you from behind while he whispers in your ear about how beautiful/handsome you are. 

-His fingers trail on each and every stretch-mark, observing them with pure delight. 

-And if you dare to complain about them, he's shutting that right down. 

-"What do you mean you don't like 'em? They make you look like a tiger, and everyone loves tigers." 

-"Yeah, but tigers aren't chubby." 

-"They can be. And when they are, they're extra cute." 

-Probably proceeds to show you this pic as well

-Your belly has become his personal pillow. 

-Its also almost like a stress ball to him, too. He'll softly knead at it like dough when y'all are cuddling, pressing kisses to the skin and tickling you with his facial hair. 

-When he gets home from a particularly long deployment, all he wants to do is just bury his face in your belly and forget about life for a while. 

-Will also ask for pictures of your tummy while he's away. Tells you how much he can't wait to come home and cuddle with you. 

-"That belly is the perfect pillow for me, baby. Can't wait to get home and fall asleep on you ❤"

-Absolutely doesn't take anyone shaming you for your body. He probably gets more pissed than you do, but he isn't super confrontational. As much as he'd like to knock the person out, he doesn't, and just leads you away instead.

-If those harsh words get to you, he'll drag you back to the mirror and gently ask you to tell him the specific things you don't like about your body. Then, he'll caress and compliment whatever you point out.

-"What do you mean your thighs are too big? They're literally the softest things in the world. You're nothing short of a warm, cozy pillow, baby. My pillow." 

-Also has an obsession with your thighs. Please let him kiss and squeeze them, he'll probably never be happy again if you don't. 

-Can't stop touching your stomach. He's also obsessed with that. 

-He'll make you feel like the most beautiful/handsome person in the world just with his words, which are always sincere.

-"Hope you know that you've got the best smile, baby doll." 

-If you're at a stage in your life where you actually want to lose weight, he hopes you do it for yourself and noone else.

-Always reassures you that he'll love you no matter what you look like. 

-"I don't care what you look like, baby. You'll look amazing no matter what you do." 

-Will actually help you work-out if you wanna try it. Always there to encourage you and honestly just sees it as more time spent with his wonderful partner.

-Also, he'll only be wearing a thin white shirt and gray shorts while exercising. Do with that what you will 🤭

-Goes clothes shopping with you a lot. 

-If you find clothes that you really like but they don't fit, he'll rub your shoulder comfortingly while searching the racks for another size.

-And if the store barely has anything that fits you? He's fuming about it on the way home and then tries to see if he can get you something customized to fit you. 

-Enjoys bathing with you just so he has an excuse to touch at and clean your body. Rubs soap all over your tummy and makes sure it's all nice and clean so he can fall asleep on it later. 

-Picks you up constantly and grins when it makes you giggle. 

-Once when you were especially sleepy and he made breakfast, he simply just scooped you up, carried you to the dining table and grabbed you a plate. You were definitely 100% awake after that. 

-His lap is always avaliable for you to sit on. 

-Sometimes pouts when you don't sit on it and looks at you with the saddest eyes until you do. 

-"Aw, is my lap not comfy enough for you, dolly?" 

-And if you insist you'll crush him, he looks at you like you have 5 heads. 

-"Thats the craziest thing I've ever heard. Come on, love. Get your pretty/handsome ass over here."

-Pats his thigh when he wants you on his lap, too. His arms immediately wrap around you when you sit on him, giving you a hug so tight it takes your breath away for a sec. 

-Never allows a negative word about yourself fall from your mouth.

-"Don't say that, baby. It's not true. Not at all." 

-"I wish it wasn't so hard for you to see yourself from my perspective. You're amazing, sweetheart. Always have been and always will be." 

-Would absolutely be a wonderful partner overall, no matter your body type or background. Alex genuinely couldn't care less about what you looked like, and would totally throw compliments at you so much you'd get flustered. 

Let's gooo another one done! I'm sure y'all can probably tell that I'm chubbier myself, and as such I'm here to provide for my fellow chubby readers out there with content on this wonderful man 🙏

Feel free to leave requests on who I should do next!

[the-s1lly-corner]

Creepypastas comforting the reader

except some of them arent particularly good at it + as per usual jeff ben and toby are written as platonic everyone else can be seen as either or writing a silly little thing before i tackle in on requests, falling into the same vibe as the "hugging/kissing creepypasta characters" post from last week since i do enjoy rating these lads on thing ehehehe obligatory "these style of posts go over my personal character limit but since this is writing for the admin he bends the rules a bit" anyways uhuh totally dont give me ideas for these eheheh winks

SLENDERMAN:

not much of a talker in general, and i think that remains true in scenario where you're upset/crying. but he does make it clear that hes here for you... just... in a general sense. you know? refuses to leave you alone unless you directly ask him that you need space; more so watches out of concern rather than his usual curiosity. i think he would make you a warm drink and let you vent to him. more of a logical approach than an emotional one; better at giving solutions rather than giving comfort.. though i like to think that his tentacles will pull you close if you want to lean into him, will let you cry into his shoulder with no judgement. 6/10 low score simply because sometimes one needs comfort in the moment instead of solutions, you know?

SPLENDORMAN:

i think hes the opposite of slenderman. hes all emotions first, logic later. if he already knows you comfortable with it, i think he would come in and scoop you up in a hug.. hell he might even cry with you, or do the equivalent of it (admin is still on the fence of whether or not he has eyes or not! torn between them being actual eyes or markings) will make you your favorite snacks and drinks, all the while letting you cry and vent to him. gets mad on your behalf if someone had done you wrong, does not make your feelings feel small or invalidated. if he could he would confront the person who treated you unfairly.... and in fact he might, who would ever believe the person that they came face to face with a ten foot tall monster? though... this can lead to him being a little quick to make choices that might have big impacts... 7/10 love this man need to write more for him and develop my hcs

EYELESS JACK:

you know now that i think about it, given how much i write for EJ, i swear ive done a similar prompt at some point. regardless of it i did and if my hcs are the same, im going to go ahead and drop my hcs. i think hes very similar to slenderman in terms that hes more of a solutions > emotion person.. though i do think hes more likely to join you in any shit talking if someone did you dirty... do i think he would target that person next when hes going to go 'hunting'? no... unless the person did something truly awful and unforgivable, then he would definitely consider it.. probably wont go through with a harvest, though.. but thats it whole other thing. more of a talker than slenderman, so at least he has that going for him. lets you sleep in his bed if youre venting to him in his cabin 7/10 one point higher than slenderman simply because he talks more n stuff

LAUGHING JACK:

im gonna be so real i think he can go either way if hes going to be good at comforting you. on one hand hes too silly and might not take it too seriously; or he might try to make you laugh.. which COULD work but other times makes it look like he doesnt care about your feelings. on the other hand i think he can give some solid adivce, but thats only based on the fact that i love it when unhinged hyper characters suddenly drop the most valuable info. shrugs. i mean if you need a distraction, i think lj is your man to go to ! he was literally made to entertain so i dont think its going to be too hard for him to take your mind elsewhere. i think he would offer to cook you something but i also think hed probably be banned from the kitchen because he cant cook for shit. has probably set water on fire somehow level shit. so instead you guys just sit together talking... mostly its him leading the conversation, though. doesnt leave you be until you at least give him a smile... 6.5/10 only because i dont know how to rate him here

MASKY/TIM:

oh not at all emotional. well no thats a lie but hes not very emotive. thats the more correct word. look if we're talking about masky, hes probably going to be really bad at comforting you unless your means to be comforted involves being watched... though i do think he would fall into the act of service hole.. does all the chores and such for you so you dont have to worry yourself about cleaning a pan thats been in the sink for two days now. tries his hand at cooking, but i dont think masky is the best cook.. TIM on the other hand.. but we'll get into that in a minute. probably ends in you guys ordering something but hey its the thought that counts. if someone made you upset you notice over the course of the next few weeks that person starts outright avoiding you and overall seems anxious. weird. probably unrelated! 7/10 only because im badly overworked irl and the idea of someone taking charge sounds like a dream

tim i think would be similar, but hes more expressive for you... will cook for you but if your favorite food happens to be really specific or something else, hes probably going to run out and get it. torn on whether or not he would tell you before he goes, or if he sticks to keeping it a surprise.. i think he would tell you just so it doesnt feel like hes abandoning you when youre down..! not much to be said here other than him being supportive 8/10 i would KILL for some white cheddar popcorn rn

HOODIE/BRIAN:

i think he would put you to bed. actually i think both of them would but to keep things clear im still going to divide this like masky/tims. i think hoodie is going to keep you in bed, even if youre not particularly tired. dont bother trying to fight him on it, hes only allowing you to get up for the bathroom. let him take care of things! very similar to masky, picks up on a lot of the chores. i think he can cook, though, definitely better than masky but i dont think hes like. top tier. likes making you little snacks, or food thats generally deemed as comforting (mac and cheese, cornbread, ect). doesnt talk (sign) much but will occasionally sign to you asking how you're feeling 7.5/10 love this man, so mad kid me used to sleep on hoodie

very similar, but an even better cook than hoodie so be prepared to eat good. communicates with you more than hoodie and makes small talk while cooking. i think he would keep the chat lighthearted and on a different topic rather than tackling your feelings, unless you express that you want to vent then hes all ears! not because he doesnt care more so because he doesnt want to seem prying or nosey and wants to give you the choice yourself. sometimes makes jokes about stuff in order to try to get you to smile. feels victorious when he succeeds 8/10 mad i slept on him too

TICCI TOBY:

i think he might actually be TOO strong and in your face when asking you what happened. only one who outwardly offers to krill someone if someone were to make you upset. but thats just because i think toby can occasionally get protective of you. i mean youre one of his best friends (only friends) and here you are upset! if you dont want him to do anything hes going to try to contain himself. he strikes me at the type to retreat to the roof and look up at the stars... i think he would offer to do that with you; but if youre too scared to climb then he can lay out a blanket for you so you guys can go sit on the grass! surprisingly a very good listener, though very emotionally driven and reacts a lot when you tell him the details of your day.. but its nice, i think, reassures you that hes is in fact listening.. 7/10 gives off brother vibes

JEFF THE KILLER:

ohhoho so this is an interesting one, because i like the idea of jeff still acting like an older brother every now and then even after everything. but he also has that attitude of "i dont care about anyone around me and im better than everyone".. more of an actions than words guy. he wont really say it.. you know? one of those "if he actually didnt care then he would bother giving you the time of day, much less break into your house at night with his arms full of your favorite snacks and drinks". good luck trying to vent to him though, i think its rare that he lets anyone vent to him since he also holds the "ew yucky feelings" thing ben has.. though once in a blue moon i think he would let you and give some decent advice... though every now and then that advice involves punching someone 6/10 is fair i think...

BEN DROWNED:

kind of reminds me of how younger siblings will give their older siblings know they like. kind of like the "my brother saw me crying and asked me what my favorite color is... he gave me things in that color" post/image going around that i cannot for the life of me find but i know it exists because it made me cry. i think its like that. except since hes in your phone he already knows what your interests are.. probably pulls up what your comforts and likes are in an attempt to cheer you up. i dont think he would bluntly speak with you about your feelings, but thats just because he thinks heart to hearts are yucky and cringe/lh. uses videos, art, stuff like that. ehehe silly phone ghost 7/10 because as simple as it is, if someone tossed my cc at me i would feel at least a little better for a moment and its the action itself you know?

PUPPETEER:

i thin hes similar to jeff in regard that he tries to play things off but deep down he does care, and that tends to show more through his actions... though i personally think if you were to actually cry then he might lose it a bit, because who DARE? i gotta admit, im still trying to figure out how i want to write pup and what hcs to give him, but i think.. this is an okay take.. might 'confront' anyone who made you upset, with or without your approval which might make some issues between the two of you.. more ready to let you vent to him though, might slip out some mean insults and words about whatever's got you upset regardless of its a person, chance, or object 7/10

[kissingkiszka]

Choosing The Road - GVF x Reader

Words:1.8k+

Summary: Reader goes on a roadtrip with her lifelong best friends, and they are all after her heart.

CW: MDNI, 18+, fluff, drinking, cursing, can be viewed as both platonic &/or romantic, flirting i guess?, traveling idrk! Love triangle but all 4 of the boys are after reader (love pentagon?) not proofread

This is a bit of a short one I wasn’t actually going to post but here we are! I wrote this one on the way to my Starcatcher show :)

I may do a part 2 to this where reader ends up with one of them so lmk if you’d like to see that and who she’d end up with!

—————————————————————

It was your second day on the road, and it was anything but boring, especially being with the guys. They had been your best friends for years now and a roadtrip with them was something you had always wanted to do, and now was the chance.

Everyone had pitched in a little bit to cover the cost of a rental RV, and everyone took turns driving, except you. You were more than happy to, however the boys wanted you to sit back and enjoy the ride. Sam even decided to bring Rosie with him, which led to even more fun.

Even though you had just gotten on the road yesterday, there were already countless trips to truck stops that had been made. It was always the same routine, too. Sam would get out to stretch his legs, play with Rosie, and photograph the surrounding area. Josh would hop out, take a short walk in the surrounding patches of grass and pick up any flowers, rocks, or sticks he had found nearby. He was really good at journaling and the pieces of nature he had found made for excellent journaling supplies. Danny always made a trip to the bathroom and made sure everyone had their snacks and enough water to last them to the next truck stop. Jake had recently taken up the hobby of writing poetry, so he would sit outside and take in as much scenery as possible to later write about. And for you, well you would join each of them in their respective activities depending on your mood.

“Let the good times roll!” Sam announced, putting the camper in reverse. He had just taken over for Jake as driver.

“Who wants to listen to some blues?” Jake asked, taking out his phone.

“You. Only you do, Jake.” Josh spat.

Jake plopped himself down in between you and Danny. Without a word, Danny handed him a water bottle and a small bag of crackers.

“Thanks bud.” Jake said, opening the bag.

Danny was definitely the mom friend, which made you laugh. The Kiszka boys always had a somewhat childish side. Although they were some of the most responsible and respectful men you knew, they always brought out your inner child, which was one of the reasons you were such great friends with them.

“This road trip is so fun. I can’t wait to make some more lifelong memories with my lifelong friends.” Danny smiled, picking his head up from the book he had been reading.

“I can’t wait to see where the road will take us. Bajabule!” Josh cheered, taking a beer can out of the mini fridge in the corner. “So many good vibes around us.”

This trip was so spontaneous, you didn’t even have a planned destination. You guys just wanted to drive around the country until you felt like going back to Nashville.

“Jake, could you hand me my water, please?” You ask sweetly.

“Of course, love.” He smiles before turning around to get your pink metal water bottle. Before he could grab it, Danny scoops it up and delivers it to you.

“Here you are, m'lady.” Danny says as you graciously accept the water.

“I was going to get it for her-” Jake begins.

“You snooze, you lose, buddy.” Danny lovingly pats him on the shoulder.

The various sights you had seen eventually turned into mountain tops that looked identical to one another.

After a few hours of driving straight, Sam finally pulled into a parking lot. You lifted your head out of a book you were reading to take in the new location.

“A truck stop? Another one?” Josh stands up with his hands on his hips.

“I have to pee!” Sam argued. “Plus, I don’t want Rosie pooping on the floor, or we might have to pay extra for that.”

“Good call.” Jake nodded, standing up.

“I need to stretch my legs anyways.” Danny added, walking towards the door.

Sam got Rosie on her leash and then made his way out of the RV, and everyone followed after him.

“You want any snacks?” Josh leaned in, asking you.

“Me? Uh, maybe a coffee would do me some good.” You smile.

“You got it.” He reciprocated the warm smile and went inside to get snacks.

You followed him at a distance, going to quickly use the restroom.

After you used the restroom, you wandered around the truckstop for a bit. You walked over to a huge map on the wall, examining it carefully.

You quickly grabbed a pamphlet that read ‘Arkansas’ across the top in big blue lettering. You were planning on making a scrapbook of the road trip and figured you would be collecting any sorts of materials for it.

Even though you had been on the road for the past day, and you had no idea where you were, it was good to find out that you had at least made it out of Tennessee.

“Arkansas? Huh.” Danny came up behind you and rested a firm hand on your shoulder.

You jump back, startled. You let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, I was worried we’d still be in Tennessee.”

“Don’t worry about that, Y/N.” Danny laughed. “I think we’re coming pretty close to Oklahoma by now. Maybe if Josh could drive better, we’d be there by now.”

You nodded with a giggle.

“Well, I’m gonna go get a quick snack. You want anything?”

“No thanks, Josh is already getting me something.” You smiled. “I’m gonna get some fresh air for a bit.”

You left the truck stop, heading over to the RV. Sam was now outside with Rose. You headed over to them, bending down and greeting Rose with a few pets.

“She loves you.” Sam smiled as he watched you play with his beloved pet. “But who doesn’t? You're easy to love.”

“I could say the same for you, Sam.” You look up at him and go to stand.

“Yeah, right.” He chuckles, giving Rose a treat.

“You are.”

“Really?” He asks, his eyes going wide.

“Duh. You’re my best friend. Everybody loves you.”

“Awh.” He sighs and smiles to himself. You even catch a glimpse of him blushing, but he turns away before you can point it out.

You turn around, making your way back to the camper and notice Jake stepping inside.

When you get inside, you notice Jake sitting down on one side of the couch. He pats the spot next to him, signaling for you to join him on the couch.

“Hey.” He smiles.

“Hey.” You reply, sitting down.

He has his leather bound journal placed open in his lap. You take notice of the many words accompanying the pages.

He notices you looking at the pages as he looks down. “I've been busy.”

“Looks like it.” You nod. “What are you writing?”

“I’ve been working on some stuff. Some concepts for a new album. Some poetry. Y’know.” He admits.

“I see you’ve gotten a lot done?”

He laughs and glances down at the journal once more. “You can say that.”

You lean in a bit closer, getting more interested in hearing his ideas. “Does sight seeing give you inspiration? Is that why you’re always writing stuff down?”

“Well, I actually get a lot of my inspiration from you. Believe it or not.” He gives you a sweet smile.

“Jake,” you grin. “That’s so nice. Can I-”

“I don’t want you to see it yet. Only when it’s perfect.” He softly closes his journal and moves it to the side. “I only want you to see my top notch work.”

“Jake, I think all your work is top notch.”

“Thank you, Darl-”

As he finishes his sentence, Josh comes sauntering back into the vehicle.

“Your coffee, madam.” He dramatically puts his hand out, you take the coffee from him. “And I also threw in a bag of chips for you.”

“Thank you, Joshy.” You accept the snacks with a cheeky smile.

“No need to thank me,” He sits himself down on the couch across from you and Jake. “Especially over a small bag of chips and a coffee. I’d do anything for you.”

You giggle before Danny and Sam come piling back onto the RV, with Rose following closely behind on her leash.

“Alright, so who’s driving now?” Sam claps his hands together.

“I’ll drive.” Danny stands up. “Haven’t driven for a bit now.”

“I know there's a rest stop in about…50 miles.” Jake told him.

“Maybe we stop there for the night? Get some rest?” You inquired.

“Yes ma’am.” Danny nodded, sitting down behind the wheel.

“Getting rest at the rest stop!” Josh chimed in.

…

That night, the RV was parked at a rest stop next to a huge pond. It was off the highway and very peaceful. The RV bunks were anything but comfortable. You had been tossing and turning, not able to get any sleep. You thought for a minute before deciding on reading your book. That always helped you fall asleep easier. As you walk into the sitting area to retrieve your book, you see Josh’s silhouette on one of the couches.

“Josh?” You ask in a whisper, blinking back your lack of sleep.

“Oh!” he jumped back, startled. “What’re you doing up?”

“Can’t sleep. How ‘bout you?”

“That makes two of us.”

“Have you seen my book?” You ask, squinting in the darkness trying to find it.

He shakes his head. “Can’t say I have.”

“Dammit.” You sigh under your breath.

“Why so sad? Come join me outside.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Just feel like it. A night underneath the stars…?” He says unsurely.

You oblige and follow him outside.

He finds a nearby picnic table and lays down on top of it, looking up at the night sky.

“Lay with me.”

“Lay with you?”

“Yeah, c’mon.” He pats the spot next to you.

You lay next to him and stare at the sky as well. It’s silent for a few moments, as both of you are just admiring the sky and wondering what to talk about.

“So many stars out tonight. They’re all so bright too.”

“You’re the brightest star, though.”

“Says you.” You chuckle, your cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. “You’re literally the brightest star out there.”

“So I’m the sun?” He asks.

“The sun is still a star.” You nod matter of factly.

“You know what? if you asked me to, I would go up there, and catch all the stars…I’d bring them back down for you.” He admits, laying his hands against his chest.

“That’d be one big feat.”

He chuckles. “For you, it’d be nothing.”

“Thanks Josh…”

“You know, I’d do anything for you. I’m sure all of us would. We love you so much.” He sits there for a minute before sitting up with wide eyes. “Oh my god. That’d make for a good album name.” He smiles to himself before looking over at you, who’s long asleep by now.

[dullgecko]

The idea of a goblin daisy chain in the middle of school will never not be funny to me and I can’t decide if I want it to be an instinct thing (I remember reading a post about goblins holding hands while out in the open so they’re less likely to be carried away by flying predators) or if it was literally just all the goblins individually deciding to join in and not wanting to be left out.

Also I imagine that at least some photos were taken of them and they quickly spread as of the most adorable things to ever happen at the school.

And Riz the extremely talented hyper aware rogue not noticing the sudden extra 5 goblins since he’s so busy and stressed making sure no one like has a panic attack or runs off chasing someone’s familiar is great.

The kids having to go to leviathan for help is great since it means more people get to see them all gobliny. Aelwyn in particular for all her mean girl bitchy front loses complete composure the second she’s see adaine, who’s just so SMALL and CUTE she can’t help but scoop her up.

If it was anyone else besides the other bad kids and possibly jawbone she would have freaked out but since it’s her sister someone familiar and safe while also being strong enough to protect both of them, Adaine fully embraces it.

Curling into her and burying her face into Aelwyns clothes trying to block out the rest of the world while she breathes in her sisters somehow familiar scent as she surprisingly begins to purr.

Also Aydas reaction to fig and everyone I can see her being just fully interested in the transformational properties of the spell and how aspects of their original race carried over to them etc but she does assures fig that she still finds her as visually appealing as she did before.

Also if the spell does last longer than any of them expected I can see fig dragging ayda away for some ‘relaxation’ which is how she figures out what the Riz and Fabian mixing scents meant.

Xx

Goblin daisy chain, hold hands to keep safe from aerial predators. Sprak and the underclassmen that joined in later just saw a group of other goblins and thought it was an event of some sort. Instincts also were demanding they group together once the group got bigger than 4 people.

Riz didn't notice immediatly because his perception is stretched so thin right now trying to watch his party, plus find all these people with the books they need, plus keep an eye out for anyone getting with in grabbing range. Look he is seventeen years old its undignified being squealed over like this and he swears he is going to shoot someone by the end of the day if they grab for adaine again.

While it was VERY cute to some people, the more racially biased among the students were a little freaked out by the rapidly expanding horde of goblins wandering the hallways. The number capped out at about 11 though, because that was literally the entire student body of goblins that the school currently had. Riz shooed the extras away after a while because they immediatly started flirting with his party and he was not in the mood to deal. Yes they're all very pretty but go away.

Riz is the one who called Aelwyn when they exhausted their resourses in the library because his party was rapidly becoming unhelpful in the research department. Adaine was so overstimulated and stressed that she was on the verge of shutting down and the rest of his party had no idea what to look for.

He got Jawbone to drive them back to Mordred before school even finished because technically getting cursed allows you a sick day. Aelwyn was already there waiting when they arrived and the noise she made upon seeing Adaine made their wizard flinch and freeze and she immediatly got scooped up. She seemed happier getting carried around by her sister though so Riz didnt snap at Aelwyn to put her down. He did get a little growl-y when she suggested they just keep Adaine like this because it's so adorable.

Weirdly enough, out of all the bad kids, Fig is the least affected by the whole weird-instincts thing. She's a LITTLE more manic than usual, and the light and sound is a little overstimulating, but she's at least acting mostly normal. Normal up until the point that she sees Ayda and is fully unable to form sentences because she's purring so much.

Ayda locks up the library to keep everyone out while they set about searching there. Its night time by now and quiet so his party is doing much better on the overstimulation front so they're actually able to help search. The stack of books they have to read through is taller than they are though and its going to take them hours.

Honestly its taking longer than they expected because Ayda is just fascinated by the entire thing and is studying them more than helping look for a solution. Plus, she finds Fig adorable and is amazed that her fire immunity has carried over into this form.

During one of their breaks (Riz does not take a break and fully snaps at the first person to try and make him) Ayda and Fig disappear to go have some fun. Fig doesnt say anything to Riz when she gets back but gives him a knowing look, nods her head towards Fabian and snickers. Riz contemplates shooting himself. Fabian just looks smug again and ambushes Riz in between the bookshelves when he leaves to go find a reference dictionary for a second go. At least their rogue is noticibly less bite-y now, though still exhausted.

When they do find the solution (Gorgug managed to find it while checking if any artificer spells would help, greatest wizard of our age) it doesnt take them especially long to get turned back. Riz is so releived in the end that he just lies on the floor among all the books they have to reshelve and fully conks out for a nap.

[flmer]

an: yay! I managed to drop a post for christmas, this is a word vomit since I decided to make this after getting some free time :')) am i the only one who didn't make a christmas post? *wails*

"may I ask what that is?" riddle pointed to the tray that contained what you would call 'your juiciest cookies' but riddle thinks of it more as some sort of poison.

"It's a cookie!" you raised the tray and pushed it closer to his face and riddle swears that he could smell the scent of death wafting to his nose-

but he couldn't tell you that, not when you have the proudest look in your eyes and the biggest smile on your face- how could he say that your cookies sucks right in front of you? he admits he's ruthless when it comes to criticism but he would never say such horrible words to you.

"ah, well.. I see that but why would you make it? I appreciate your efforts but Trey had already made a batch of cookies for this year's christmas party." riddle put on some mittens as he took the tray out of your hands, he could see how your arms were starting to wobble after-all.

"erm, I wanted to at least contribute something for this year's christmas party.." you looked down at the ground in shame, you knew that the cookies you made weren't the best and you know that lilia could probably make cookies better than you but you at least wanted to help or contribute something for this year's christmas party..

"you have already contributed enough, you helped with making the decorations and putting it up and displaying it, you had helped us get some ingredients and do other tasks when everyone was so busy and for that me and the rest of us are grateful for your efforts. you probably think that your actions were just basic chores but no one else would've done it and we wouldn’t have such a smooth party if it weren’t for you and your efforts to help us.” riddle blurted out what was on his mind, he scooped out the ‘cookies’ out of the tray and placed it on a clean plate as he went to the sink to wash the tray but you were too stunned to move.

Did riddle just comfort you? You looked up and saw his back, you could see the clear rosy tint of his blush spreading throughout numerous parts on his body, his neck and ears and maybe his face too was beet red but you decided to not comment on it, the boy might suddenly bolt out of here if you notice the flustered state he was in so you decided to look down again when he turned around to face you.

“Thank you riddle-” you decided to lift your head but riddle was nowhere at the sink, your head turned to the side and there you saw him. His mouth was open wide and his brows furrowed, it was as if someone was feeding him poison and you can’t help but laugh at his expression.

“Are you seriously going to try it out? It doesn’t even look edible at all, lilia’s cookies would’ve been more acceptable than that.”

“Well, you did make it and I wouldn’t want your efforts to be wasted.”

you can't help but smile at his words, appreciating the fact that he wanted to atleast try what you made instead of immediately dumping it in the trash.

"seriously, don't try to eat that riddle or you'll suffer a painful stomach ache later."

[kaizenkhaos]

Over the Airwaves: A Harringrove Xmas Fic

Okay so you know how it goes. You see a post reblogged from a fellow Harringrover (if that's the term...hmmm...I'm not sure but hey ho XD) and all of a sudden the mind gremlins go yes....do it. Write a nearly 4K fic inspired by it. Or kinda. It's more adjacent to it. In this case, I saw a post reblogged by @avalonlights about Michael Buble and that sent me down a rabbit hole of Robin and Steve hosting a radio show and a certain someone or someones ringing in with requests. Though it does give me ideas for another fic for later or maybe next year now XD So Merry Christmas everyone! ^^ Wherever you are and whatever you're doing, have fun, stay safe and for those of you who struggle during this time of year, my thoughts are with you. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Four Days before Christmas Day...

"And that was 'So This is Christmas' by John Lennon. Coming up, we have the much beloved listeners' request section. But now, here's a few words from our sponsors." It was the run up to Christmas and Steve was working. Like every god darn Christmas he could remember since finishing at Hawkins High. Sure, the money wasn't bad and it stopped him from sitting alone in a big house, wishing that he could just chill in the pool and forget about the rest of the world, but….there was just somethin' about this time of year that set his teeth on edge. Maybe it was cos his parents had once again gone away from the holidays, leaving him with a Christmas tree laden with presents but no one to see him open them. Maybe it was the fridge full of food which they'd left for him which he'd stuff in the oven and try and not forget about. Or maybe it was the fact that each and every year, someone had actually asked him over to their place. And he lied about having somewhere already to go. Cos he didn't wanna be a burden, ruin a good time. If he was gonna be miserable, he'd be miserable alone. He was so tired of putting a brave face on things. But maybe what he really needed to do was bite the bullet and say yes. Being alone the past years had sucked.

Four days until the day of the most wonderful time of the year. According to many and that one song which they kept being asked to play most days. Christmas songs were the bread and butter of the airwaves for Radio Hawkins in December, most DJs chosing to play different varieties but some of the songs remained the same. The staple diet of a nation ready for the holidays and to eat and drink more in the name of good old Saint Nic. Steve and Robin had been given the afternoon slot, just before the prime time DJ, and so were kinda the warm up act before the main event. It meant that they could get away with playing some obscurities but overall, it was more the popular stuff, both classic and modern as well as the old curveball to keep them on their toes.

"Line one dingus, you're up to bat." It didn't matter that they were no longer the sailors hauling scoops at Scoops Ahoy, dingus had stuck. But it wasn't in the manner in which he'd been labelled at first. Now it was more affection than insult, just one of the many insider jokes and banter the pair now had.

Nodding, Steve looked over at the producers, giving the good old thumbs up and it was time for his sultry (and apparently sexy according to some listeners) tones to smooth over the airwaves.

"And we're back with more holidays hits right over the air waves at Radio Hawkins. And the section, as Robin said before the break, we all know and love. It's time to hand over to the listeners and the recommendations for your Christmas tunes." Looking at the board, he selected the button nearest to him and with a smile, started with, "Hello there dear listener, who do we have on line 1 today?"

"Hello. Can I request a song for all of the Hawkins Life guards out there? " "Sure thing, and what can we play you today?" Oh wasn't that a oh so familiar voice and a glance over at Robin told him that yep, she'd cottoned onto who it was too. They didn't even have to leave a name and they knew it. Steve wondered how red Robin was gonna get before the song would end, even before the voice continued and sealed the deal. "Could we have 'Santa baby' please Mr DJ." "That we can, thanks for your call." As the line went dead, Steve leaned over to the console to locate the song in question. Now he knew it was one which had been covered a hell of a lot; apparently one of the most covered Christmas songs ever. But no doubt the main DJ of the night would play some up-beat version and what was wrong with a bit of Eartha Kitt? "We're going with the original version?" Pulling her headset off, Robin was getting a raised eyebrow, as if this was something unexpected. She knew his leaning to the classics for these sorts of things but maybe she thought their audience would beg to differ. Although, that did make him think of…. "Yeah 'course. Why, should I have gone for the sexy Michael Buble version?" "No. Steve. Why do you…" Bingo. Deep, deep red is the result to his poking, as he made kissing noises at her and she looked like she'd have thrown a pillow at him if she had one at her disposal. Instead she just leaned over and nearly set him off his chair. An act that had the producers snorting and Steve grinning from ear to ear. Once he was straight and level back on his chair. Last year, Robin may have dragged him onto the stage for karaoke on their second work's night out together. It had been a small town bar, pretty cosy and most locals but they seemed to have known the radio station folk, so there was no hostile staring. Santa Baby had been the song Robin had chosen but not for the reasons he thought at first. Both a bit drunk, he'd just thought it was an updated upbeat version for them to stumble through. Then Robin had done a 180. No longer as shy as before but like a shot of confidence had come over here. Sassy, confident and damn…. If she'd not come out to him a couple of years previous and let her feeling about him known, that would have a time which he had gotten him paying attention. But as it was, he worked out real quickly what had caused the change, or rather who. Turned out a certain life guard had shown up, on their own work's do and yeah. Robin had already scoped her out and the song? It had been for her. It had turned out, as they'd found out later that night, the feelings had been mutual. Steve had slipped away to give them some privacy and the rest….well. They'd been dating for a year now, but every time that version of the song came on, Steve wouldn't let her live it down and Robin didn't let him get away with it.

"You're such a….." The song finished and a smirk is what Robin is faced with as she gives him that face and took over hosting duties. Whilst making it so very very clear that he was gonna pay for this later. Or one day. Who knew when, but she'd seek her revenge and he'd pay his due.

Three days until Christmas Day…

He was surprised they were both not hung over. A night out with Heather and her swim team, and member of his old swim team and many, many drinks later had left both him and Robin going home late and just about getting ready enough to be able to be coherent on the air. It had taken Steve an embarrassingly amount of time to work out their set lists and he swore at times he was getting the shakes for some reason but they were working through it. Him and Robin, the dynamic duo. They'd made the bad days work at Scoops and here, as tight as ever, they'd carry each other through it. Just as they had each other on the way home. "So, we have another caller on line two. What's your name and what can we play for you this afternoon?" They'd admittedly had some banging tunes already this slot. Some golden oldies; some Slade, some Wizard. Some modern ones and some not so Christmassy tunes too. Probably from someone who either didn't like Christmas all that much or just wanted to give others a breather for a moment. After playing a bit of T-Rex and Prince, the songs had morphed back into the season and Steve was now ready to hear what the last request of the session was gonna be. A pause on a line. This happened from time to time. When there was a bad line, a disconnect or when people just didn't know what to say, or how to start. It happened more often than he'd thought when he'd started here three years ago. Nerves on the airwaves, the thought of so many ears hearing your every word. Steve got it. He'd been the same when he'd started. Now it felt as natural as breathing. Steve patiently waited for the caller to say a word or hang up. "Santa's little helpers." Giggling floated over the line and yet another familiar sound reached Steve's ears. A sigh away from the microphone as he rolled his eyes at Robin to just get a grin back. Eyes carrrying as much mischief as the kids on the line. Well, it had only been a matter of time before one of the little shits got through. He was kinda surprised at who it was though. "Hello there Santa's little helpers. Hope you're keeping warm up there in the North Pole. What can we play for you?" "What's the North Pole?"

"Can we have 'Driving Home for Christmas'. Please."

Yep it was them and Steve just smiled, Robin shaking her head but still with that mischief in her eyes. Had she set them up to this? He had no idea if she actually had; he knew she wouldn't reveal her hand yet if she had. Or maybe it was the other who had spoken who'd decided to do it. Those two were thick as thieves after all. Either way, Steve leaned back to his microphone, the song now lined up to play.

"Sure thing. Here's 'Driving Home for Christmas' for Santa's Little Helpers. Thanks for calling."

Two days….. It had been a mistake. Two nights out in a row? He should have been able to handle it. Drink never used to be a problem. But today both him and Robin were definitely paying for it. She called it the hangover from hell but worth it. He was just wondering when the hell he'd turned his headset up. Every sound felt like it was echoing inside of his head. The only saving grace was that some of the staff on the other side of the glass had also been out, what with it being the works do, so they were all collectively on the bus together. Just trying to get through another shift before their beds came a-calling. "Line number three, thanks for calling. What's your name and what can we play for you this afternoon?" This time the voice was clearly using some sort of changer. Subtle but there seemed to be a distortion on the line which felt neither like the phone line or signal and clearly wasn't caused by a human voice. Catching Steve's glance, he hovered his finger over to the line button, just in case it turned out to be some prank caller who they'd have to boot off the air pretty quickly. Wouldn't be the first one, sadly probably wouldn't be the last. "Hi, name's "Christmas Princess" and I'd like "Last Christmas" by Wham please. Love your show, thanks for taking my call." "No problem at all Christmas Princess." He knew Robin was looking over now and he knew how; he didn't have to see it. If it wasn't written all over his face in clear sight, then it was that she knew him and his history well enough that she could feel what he was going through. This song….stung. A lot, and he knew it wasn't aimed at him or anything, but it was…such a shitty Christmas song in his opinion. Full of heartache and sorrow and memories of Christmas past. Memories of her and the special someone he wished he could have given his heart to. And the word Princess….god it remembered him so much of that asshole. Not even in town no more, could be a thousands miles. To Steve, he never was away. He was always there in his head, in his heart and he felt the whole thing stumble.That tell tale of a rip occuring again, and the feel of a soft hand under the table. Steve blinked out of his thoughts and daydreaming, looking over at Robin and the producers who were pointing at the blinking "Live" sign. Smiling at everyone, Steve hoped nothing he'd been thinking had shown on his face. One look at Robin, and he saw that it had. Damn. Him and Robin had spent so much time talking about their crushes that he was so relieved when one of them got lucky. She wanted it for him too, even if she shared his opinion on his crush (being an asshole). She wanted Steve to be happy and he wanted to be finally too.

"And that was Last Christmas. Sorry to all of you trying to avoid Whamhalla. Better luck next time folks. Now who'd we have on line six."

Christmas Eve It was Christmas eve, one last shift until Christmas Day, which turns out this year, he actually wasn't gonna be spending alone after all. He'd not realised until this morning that there were several voice messages for him at home. All of which had come from the Hendersons. Mrs Henderson had happened to bump into his mom in the supermarket or some place, and she'd let on that not only would they be out of town but Steve would be staying behind. Something about work and a boring business meeting his dad had which they didn't wanna drag him along to. So of course, the first phone call had from Mrs Henderson, asking him if he'd like to come over for xmas. The second had been just a check in and polite check in. A "It's okay if you'd rather be alone but if you could let me and Dusty know, that would be appreciated." The final one had been Dustin telling him that if he didn't come around to his on Christmas Day, then his mom was gonna bring them around. Apparently his mom must have had a change of heart; Steve not finding out the why until much later on. Outwardly he'd been annoyed, rung back. Got Henderson on the phone and huffed a "Fine Henderson. Let your mom know we already have a turkey," before putting the phone down. But as Robin started to work out which lines they were gonna to be taking calls from first and he worked through the playlist they'd already arranged for the session, Steve realised that really, now the day was actually nearly here, he was relieved. So god damn relieved that it wouldn't be another meaningless Christmas. He even felt a little bad about his tone on the phone. He should have sounded grateful, not like he was doing them a favour. Something to apologise for when he saw them in person. No more time to dwell on that though as he was on main host duties today and so it was his turn to man the lines. Nodding to Robin, she hit a button and put the caller through. Steve wondering what the next Christmas 'masterpiece' in which they would be asked/forced to play would be. "Over to line four. Hi there, what's your name and what can we play you this Merry Christmas Eve?" "Yeah, hi. This is that guy with the Camaro. I want to request a song for someone special. It's that Mariah Carey song. You know, the popular one." No……no no no. It couldn't be. It had to be….someone else right? But no. He'd know that voice anywhere in the world. The inflexion in his words, his choices, his tone. Of all the god damn people to phone in and all of the times too. And of all of the god damn shitting songs he could pick. Why this one and why this. God Damn. Station. Maybe to be fair he didn't know. He'd been gone since Starcourt. Whisked away as soon as he was well enough. Had gone to catch some sun and never come back. At times Steve wished he would have stayed like Max had done. Maybe he'd have at least had the chance to say he was sorry. Maybe he could have made things right between them. "You there amigo?" The words echoed around in his head, before a little nudge from Robin brought him back around. Concentrate….he had to just treat this as another caller. Them as anyone else who wanted a song. It didn't matter how he felt about it; he had a job to do. "Yes, sorry that guy with the Camaro. All I want for Christmas is you right?" "That's the one."

The sound of a smirk in his voice made Steve want to throw up.Throw down his headset and go cry in the staff room.He'd not felt like this in so long and it was really darn hard for him to keep it together right now.But he had to. ON with the show and then he could let it all hang out when he got home. Away from the peering eyes, away from anyone's expectations of him. Then he'd be fine for when Mrs Henderson picked him up. None the wiser. "Sure man, we'll put that right on for you. Hope that special someone likes it." "Thanks man, I know they'll be listening."

Another gut punch and it was like the Byers House all over again. All he needed was a plate smashing over his head. A squeeze of his hand and Steve takes a deep breath before slipping the headset off again. Robin quickly joining him and gently putting his and hers down on the console. "Steve….." "It's okay Robin. He's probably come back to see Max for Christmas" And this special person of his. A tight lump was gripping his throat. He hated this. All of it. Most of the staff here knew about him and Robin and it didn't bother them. It hadn't stopped them from rising up the ranks, given them their own show. Some people in Hawkins would still be reviled if they knew about the pairs' sexualities but here they were safe. And he was pretty sure some of them knew about the golden haired Cali boy that he held such a torch for. Hell, one of them had even found his mixtape in the car once. Asked him about it and then reassured him that he was okay. That it was fine. He had a friend who was gay and he was going to their wedding. That had been several months back, the first person at work Steve had even told. It still didn't make this any easier. He'd gotten worse at hiding his emotions. The dam was breaking and he was struggling to stop the water now. Luckily though, the caller was gone before the song played out and Steve managed to say a hurried thanks before Robin skillfully took over the air for the last song. Gestured for him to go and take a breather. The producers nodded and let him go, didn't mind the fact he'd had to head off early. He'd wanted to say thank you to all their listeners, to wish them a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year as they wouldn't be back on the air until after the first, but he just couldn't right now. And they all knew that. Smoking hadn't been on his mind for a while, but now he fished around the bag he brought out from his locker to find the packet, slightly crumpled in a side pocket. God he needed this. God he needed….apparently a lot of things. A hug, a smile, reassuring words. A good turkey dinner and a warm fire, and family and laughter and….. At first, he ignored the buzzing of his phone. Probably just a message or a spam call or somethin'. It rang off fast enough to be either so he just stood there. Leaned against the wall and took the longest drag that he had in a real long time. Before off went his phone again, pulling against his jeans. Maybe it was Mrs Henderson. Maybe there'd been a change of plan or she needed to make sure she had the right gravy. She did like to make a fuss and always made him feel so welcome. The thought of which is what made him pull his phone out eventually. It wasn't right to keep her waiting. He'd already missed her calls and not rang her back, something else he really needed to say sorry for. But it wasn't her name that had flashed up on his screen. It was Max. Okay, that….didn't make the most sense but maybe she just wanted to wish him a Merry Christmas or….shit no, something hadn't happened had it? He'd….he'd better pick up. "Max?" "No need to sound so worried pretty boy. She's fine. Snuck out with Lucas somewhere. Probably the arcade. Dead romantic like that." Holy….shit. He couldn't stop himself from sliding down the wall, only feeling over the back of his jacket once his ass had hurt the floor. Hargrove…what the shit. He really was back in Hawkins and apparently had Max's phone on him. "Also before you lecture me, yes she has my phone. Didn't think you'd pick up if it was a strange number or anything. So, you like the song choices?"

"Song choices?" Wait choices….. Steve's face must have done a whole range of different motions as emotions rode from pillar to post. He'd rang in before. Several times. But when and…. how many times? What had he requested, other than that damn song today. The voice changer….so he'd been the shit requesting freaking Last Christmas. Now another emotion straddled the rest of them. So, was this some kinda sick joke, a wind up, a play to get him on air? He couldn't think straight. He never could around Hargrove but wasn't this typical of him? Wasn't this the usual hair playing behaviour he should have expected? Wasn't this why he liked him? Shit…. This could not be happening.

"Ah come on man? Santa baby, Driving Home for Christmas….George Michael and freaking Mariah Carey. You know how much cred I've lost just requesting that song man." "Ah great. Yeah, it totally makes sense now. You putting others up to ring mine and Robin's show and make me feel like a complete ass" "Woah woah woah amigo. No no no." A snort and then that lower tone that always made him feel like he was about to split in half. "Did you even listen to what I said to you? Listen to the lyrics of any of those songs. And here was me thinking you were a fellow music lover Harrington." Listen to the lyrics? About wanting someone, coming home to them, the whole giving someone their heart and shit and…..but it was for a special someone. All I want for Christmas is…..oh. "Get the hint yet?" His eyes darted upwards as the shadows crept over him. A familiar smile now above him. Shining ocean eyes which he thought he'd never see again. And the sound of an engine in the background and playful chatter. Max and Lucas at the arcade his ass.

"Hi there pretty boy. Look whose come back for Christmas." ……….

[jhsgf82]

Death Is Not the End Chapter Three Posted!

Cover edit by @mrspeetamellark

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Story Synopsis: Paranormal AU. Katniss, an immortal countess, travels to America for the funeral of her beloved sister, Primrose. However, Katniss is not simply there to pay her respects; she plans to steal Prim’s body in hopes of later resurrecting her. While there, she meets a nosy reporter, Peeta Mellark, who seeks an exclusive interview with her. When he won’t take no for an answer, she decides to give him the inside scoop-at her castle. Loosely based on Netflix’s Dracula (2020).

~It doesn’t matter how much you learn about me, Peeta Mellark; it’ll do you no good. You may be clever and articulate, but you haven’t even realized that you’re never leaving this place~

Chapter Three: The Castle Teaser: Peeta couldn’t believe he was on a flight to another country right now, and what was more, he was seated next to a gorgeous young countess.

He hadn’t intended to get involved with her beyond a simple interview. Was he enticed by her? Yes. And that brought him endless guilt.

He hadn’t expected anyone to catch his fancy. When he originally heard of her, he was merely eager to uncover her story, but it quickly became much more than professional curiosity. He became driven, obsessed, even. He’d only approached her on the street to inquire about a few things that’d been gnawing away at him, and it was becoming increasingly clear that he was not going to get the answers he was searching for.

Peeta Mellark was no fool; he knew he was playing with fire, and he didn’t care.

Read on AO3 HERE

[dragon-creates]

These Hands Of Yours (Let Me Protect Them)

Read on AO3

For @xhanisai after I reblogged this post and immediately came up with this after the S5 finale. I have many thoughts but the main one was mostly “MARINETTE MY GIRL YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER!” but yeah, I decided to base this after the finale because I feel like it fits with that post that she made. I managed to write this with the help of the caffeine from my tea, my remaining will to live and the neuro-spicy brain juice swirling around in my head. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this Akari!

The image of her tears-stained cheeks, red eyes and running nose was something Adrien didn’t think he was going to get out of his head for quite some time. He had comforted both Marinette and Ladybug many times before for different reasons, but this was the first time he comforted the same person on both sides of the mask.

It had started earlier this evening when they were both on patrol, Ladybug had met up with them at their agreed spot on a rooftop. The first sign he noticed something was wrong was how tense she was. Sure, she had her signature sweet smile and adorable sass, but her grin seemed more strained, and her quips were forced rather than seamlessly rolling off her tongue.

When asking her if she was alright, she brushed it off with a nervous laugh and swung away to start patrol. Chat Noir thought about chasing after her, but decided against it, knowing that if he continued to press on about it, the less willing she would be to tell him what was going on. They met up again twenty minutes later, but this time the sass and smile were gone, replaced with a face clouded with gloom and her posture slouched. He asked again if she was sure she was okay, only to be given a single nod before Ladybug attempted to swing away again; key word, attempted. For when she threw the end of her yoyo and prepared to jump, her clumsiness seemed to strike, and she nearly lost her footing. If it hadn’t been for Chat Noir’s quick reflexes and grabbed her wrist to pull her away, there was a definite chance she would’ve been injured.

He asked her one last time if she was okay and something inside her seemed to snap. Her eyes began to water, and her bottom lip trembled before launching herself into his chest and began to sob, strained cries ripping from her throat. Chat immediately scooped her up into his arms and walked over to a chimney, sitting them both down with her in his lap as he stroked her hair.

“I’m s-sorry, I’m so sorry!” she wailed, her tears leaking onto his leather covered shoulders as she buried her face into his neck.

“Shhh,” he buried his claws into her hair, gently taking out her hair ties and began stroking through the soft dark locks to sooth her, “You don’t need to apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You don’t understand!” she hiccupped, her small hands gripping the back of his suit as her entire body began to shake with more sobs, “I was stupid, I was really stupid this time Chat!”

Another tremor wracked through her body, causing Chat Noir to start purring, hoping that the vibrations would ease the panic threating to bubble to the surface. The purring seemed to be working, for he felt her trying to even out her breathing, though it seemed that she struggled as she would let out a cry once in a while that just shattered his heart every time he heard it. “Whatever it is, we can get through this together like we always do.”

“Not this time Chat!” she whimpered, “It’s just gonna make things worse if I say it. Everyone’s already so happy I can’t say it.”

“Then don’t say it to everyone,” he took one of her hands, his thumb stroking the top as her face peeled away from her shoulder to look at him, “Just say it to me, and let the rest just follow.”

“I…he…he should hate me!” she sniffled.

“Who?”

“Adrien!” her chest began to heave again as her other hand clawed at her face, “He should hate me for what I did!”

“Adrien Agreste?” Chat Noir inquired, starting to put the pieces together, “If this is about what happened to his father, Gabriel made that choice to help save the city. It’s not your fault, he doesn’t hate you for that.”

While true, a part of him was still grieving the loss of his father, he was glad that in those remaining moments his true self came to light for what he would do for his family. With that information in mind, it was something he could live with. However, it seemed that what he said just made his Lady feel worse as ripped her hand that was held in his to claw at her neck as she cried harder.

“No, no, no!” She began to rock back and forth, red marks were starting to contrast against her pale skin on her jaw, making Chat Noir grab her hands into his own large ones so she wouldn’t cause further damage to herself. “He shouldn’t have died; I shouldn’t have let him die! Then the wish wouldn’t-”

She clamped her mouth shut, praying that Chat Noir didn’t hear that last part. Unfortunately, his enhanced hearing was able to catch those last few words, the boy turning to her slowly. “What do you mean about the wish?” his tone was slow and steady.

“I-I didn’t…that wasn’t what I…t-that’s not what I meant to say-”

“-Ladybug,” she nearly jumped at the sound of his voice, the intensity making her nerves twist again, “What do you mean about the wish?”

He didn’t look or seem angry, but she knew that this was a conversation that he wasn’t going to change. Trying to compose herself as much as she could, she began to explain.

“He-he tricked me,” her own voice seemed to start shaking, “M-Monarch tricked me.” She felt his claws trail up and down her back to try and relieve some of her panic as her stuttering continued. “He tricked me. He tricked me. He tricked me.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered. He thinks he has a bit of an idea now. “Monarch is nothing but evil. He would do anything to get what he wants. Don’t blame yourself for Monarch making Gabriel sacrifice himself, you did all that you could.”

It didn’t seem to make her feel better, her eyes were still wide open and spilling tears as her breathing worsened. She began to shake her head. “Monarch tricked me. Monarch tricked me!” she turned to meet his gaze, “Gabriel was the trick!”

Chat Noir raised a brow in confusion. How was Gabriel the trick? His thoughts were interrupted as Ladybug’s rambles became more frantic.

“Monarch tricked me! Gabriel tricked me. Gabriel tricked me. He tricked me!”

A pit began to form in his stomach. No, no there’s no way. It felt like pieces of a puzzle starting to finally click together. Or to put it more simply, two men – two horrible men – began to mould into one monster. It was only confirmed when Ladybug opened her mouth again.

“Gabriel is…was Monarch,” she gripped his hands as the memory flooded back into her mind, “He started saying these things and I though that maybe, just maybe, there was still some good him. How could I be such an idiot?! To fall for a few nice words and suddenly it’s enough for me to give him Tikki and Plagg!”

Chat wanted to tell her that she wasn’t an idiot, that he understood being manipulated by that man – if you could even call him that at this point – that she did everything that she could in that moment. But at the same time, Monarch was his father! He had spent the last few weeks wondering how he could ever live up to how great his father was in his sacrifice. When in reality, there was no sacrifice, just an act of cowardice and his lady was left to pick up the pieces. He forced himself to repress a disgusted shudder. No wonder she looked like she was about to break down the minute he saw her arrive. 

“How can he look at me like that?!” she asked aloud, the question not being directed to anyone, “Even when I keep lying to him?!”

Chat Noir tucked a loose stray hair behind her ear, “Lying to who? About what?”

“Adrien,” the name alone made his breath hitch, “Every time I see him, he just looks at me as though I handed the world to him by just simply being there, and he doesn’t even know what I’ve been keeping from him!”

Oh, that made sense…wait. Adrien hadn’t seen Ladybug since she gave him his father’s ring. The way she was speaking about him was as if they had seen each other many times before. Did he know her outside of the mask? Could he even be that lucky?

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” she continued, “I don’t know if I can handle him looking at me like that whenever we’re at school, or play video games at each other’s houses, I don’t think I can be able to keep it together when he takes me to the little coffee shop down the street that he knows that I adore. He’s done so much for me, cares so much for me and yet I’m doing this to him, and he doesn’t even know what a horrible person I am!”

School…coffee shop…dates…A chill rushes through his veins, realisation seeping in. The girl he was holding in his arms, her hands glued to his in a desperate sign practically begging not to be alone, was someone that he knew far closer to him than any of his friends. Someone who he knew that already had so much on her hands that just got piled on after everything that was said to him. It can’t be.

“I SHOULDN’T BE LADYBUG!”

Was the last thing that tore from Marinette’s throat as her suit disappeared, leaving behind the love of his life in her pyjamas, Tikki nuzzling her cheek to try and calm her as the wave of panic and weeping returned.

He drops everything that was circling in his mind - his father, the wish, his Lady’s identity – and wraps Marinette up in his arms as much as he can, purring and keeping her as warm as he can with his body heat. Her left arm was wrapped round his torso while he kept a hold of her right hand in his own. He takes a look at her ungloved hand, hundreds of little scars leaving their marks on her skin, leaving a mocking reminder of how much she failed that day.

The fact that Monarch…no…the fact that his father was so selfish and vile that he went out of his way to not only emotionally damage, but to go as far as to try to physically damage his Lady just for a wish. Was his own son not enough? Was he that self-centred to ignore his only family left while claiming that he was doing this for his child? How could he use that to justify hurting and manipulating such a sweet and kind person as Marinette?!

“This is my fault,” she whispers, her voice raspy and sounding sore, “This is all my fault. He should hate me, I’m a terrible person and a terrible Ladybug.”

“No,” Chat Noir shook his head, a slight growl escaping with the word.

“I’m really sorry,” she whimpered, “I should’ve told you; you have every right to be angry with me, you’re my partner, you deserve to know.”

Did she…did she think his anger was directed at her? “Oh Mari,” he pressed his lips to her hair, “I have no reason to be angry with you. Never, ever blame yourself for the cruelty of others. You don’t need to apologise for any of Gabriel’s actions.”

He takes her other hand and clasps them in his again, making sure that her attention was focused on him and only him. “Since the moment I met you, you’ve been pressured to put the weight of Paris on your shoulders. From our friends to the other civilians, even yourself, it might not have been said out loud, but you definitely felt them giving you that responsibility. You are so strong; I’ve seen the remarkable things that you have accomplished with your hands. How you’ve protected so many people, to figuring out any lucky charm thrown your way, to even fighting the most feral akumas. But it’s also left its impact on you as well, and eventually, the weight that your hands have carried for so long has started to take effect. It doesn’t make you weak, no, however it is something that you don’t have to do alone. We’re the bug and cat team, we’re meant to share the weight, not take the burden from the other. And know that I know, I’m gonna make sure that you never feel such a weight again, both in and out the suit.”

She tilts her head in confusion before a flash of green made her squint and look away. When she looked back, she gasped, for there in front of her, in his pyjamas and zip-up hoodie, was none other than the boy she swore to protect from all the darkness she held so that he would never be burdened with. “Adrien?”

He pressed a kiss to her hand, “Hi Princess.”

Her eyes filled with tears again, she tried to make sure that Adrien would never find out about this, not at the expense of his happiness and now she managed to screw that up as well.

He was more prepared this time when she let out more apologies, taking off his hoodie, wrapped her up in it and pressed her face to his chest as he tightly embraced her. He purred louder and more even to make sure she was relaxed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Adrien!” she blubbered out as he rocked them back and forth, “I should’ve told you, but you were finally happy! Finally free with your life and I didn’t want to take that from you!”

“It’s alright, shh, it’s gonna be alright,” he let her continue to sob, his main priority at this point was her and taking care of her, “I’m okay, we’re okay, it’s not your fault.”

A few minutes later, her sobs turned to quiet sniffles. He took another look at her face, his stomach twisting when he saw just how exhausted she was, the guilt had really taken an ugly toll on her. Tikki was still cradled in the crook of her neck, having fallen asleep while soothing her holder. He stood up, holding her in his arms as he called out for his transformation phrase and jumped off the rooftop, making his way back to the bakery.

Once he landed on her balcony, he released his transformation again before going through her trapdoor window and gently placing her onto the bed.

He lifted her upper body he raised her duvet and placed her under it, making sure she was wrapped up safe and warm before joining her under her blankets, wrapping her up in his arms again and resumed his purring. Tikki had woken up and moved from Marinette’s neck to her hair, Plagg joining her as he buried himself in her dark locks and he began to purr as well.

Adrien could feel her body struggling to relax, constantly shifting from trying to letting herself by soothed by the warmth and love she was being given to stiffening back up again as though she didn’t feel as though she were allowed to.

His brows furrow in concentration, forming a plan in his head on just how to help his princess within this moment. He looked at their hands again, having conjoined again while in the midst of her much needed cuddles. He raised her dainty pale hand to his lips, gently pressing them against the tips of her fingers, making her look up at him and pausing her internal dilemma.

“I’m not surprised that you’re Ladybug,” he told her, “I mean, I am a bit shocked at the sudden reveal, but it makes so much sense that you’re her. The kindness with how you treat civilians, the creativity when figuring out any lucky charm thrown at you, not taking any nonsense from anyone – all of that comes from Marinette.”

He presses two more kisses to the back of her hand and laid it on her pillow and started stroking her palm in small circles with his thumb, taking notice that she was focused on the lazy motions and the soothing feeling it gave her. “It comes from everything I’ve seen you do outside of the mask,” he continued, “How you treat our friends and students outside of our class to make sure everyone is happy, coming up with ideas for not only your fashion but with baking, drawing and so many other projects, and you refuse to let others be walked over and stand up for those who aren’t able to do it themselves. All that comes from you! And all those amazing things come from your amazing hands.”

She tried to smile; it wavered a little, but she wanted to show how much his words meant to her. She wanted to believe him, she wanted to believe him so badly! So why wouldn’t the final image of Gabriel leave her mind?! Why did it have to keep reminding her of how much she failed.

She curled in on herself, the brainstorm building up again. Luckily, Adrien seemed to take notice. “But those hands have been hurt way before you became Ladybug, haven’t they?” he asked, making her thoughts pause as she peered up at him through her eyelashes.

“Despite saving the city multiple times, its far from the first time your hands have been used in that way,” he brushed his thumb over a faded scar, one that he noticed from the first time he met Marinette. Back during the hat contest, before everything, when he gently brushed his hand against hers to take her winning hat, he saw it on the top of her hand and was curious as to how it got there, but he didn’t want to pry. Now, after knowing all she went through, he had a bit of an idea on how she received it.

“All those years that you had to defend yourself from Chloe’s ruthlessness to the point you were terrified to go to school, and then Lila trying to do the same to you as well. Not to mention, you always tried to take on everyone’s problems, whether if its Kim and Ivan fighting, or Alix trying to pick a fight with someone, you’ve constantly found solutions to the point that they just keep coming back to you for help,” he continued, “They see you as the only way to fix a problem instead of trying to figure it out themselves. I know that you’re afraid of our friends getting akumatised, but you can’t take on everybody else’s burdens if you’re already being dragged down by your own.”

Marinette whimpered, every word he was saying was ringing so true that it hurt to listen to. Adrien sensed her distress and pressed a few more gentle kisses to her cheeks and forehead; he knew she had to hear this, but he knew that there was already going on in that head of hers for her to finally be confronted with both her greatest strength yet biggest flaw.

“And now knowing that you had to defend yourself from my father, both with and without a miraculous,” a bitter taste formed in his mouth as he remembered how Ladybug tried to fight Hawkmoth after Tikki and Plagg took back their miraculous. His father might not have known it was Marinette at that time, but he did know that the person he was fighting at the time was defenceless and vulnerable to the extreme damage he inflicted. “The fact that he would do that to you, that he tried to go out of his way to hurt you and then proceeded to trick you…...I’m so sorry Marinette. I’m sorry that you’ve kept this to yourself just so you could protect me but,” he looked at the scars on her hands again, the ones that Gabriel left there permanently, “No one was there to protect you from what he did.”

“-But you’ve already protected me for so long!” Marinette injected, the sudden volume startling Adrien a little bit, “You’ve already done so much for me, even when I pushed you away you were always by my side even when I didn’t deserve it. Even after keeping this from, you, how could you still want to be my partner…I don’t deserve this.”

He pressed a finger to her lips; she looked up as their eyes locked with one another, anxious blue met a frustrated green, but not at her. “Don’t ever say that again,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with both hurt and concern, “You deserve so much more than you’ve been given. You barely ask for anything, nothing even, and yet no one can even give you that.” He brought her hands to his chest, right above where she could feel his heart drumming softly, “You are so incredible, so talented, so amazing. And it hurts to watch that being stripped away every day, as Marinette and Ladybug. You think that you need to take on so much more than you already do, that you have to feel this horrible, but you don’t! Ladybug wasn’t meant to be on her own and neither was Marinette. You don’t need to do this alone anymore Princess…please, let me in, let me help you, let me share and protect the world that is threatening to fall out of your hold.”

“I-I-I,” her voice broke a little, the weight of his words was hitting harder than she thought it would, giving her a sense of peace and relief that she hadn’t felt in so long. But she knew that she wouldn’t be able to hold onto it forever, something was going to make him realise that she was a terrible partner, and he would finally realise that. “I can’t. I can’t take your happiness away after you fought so hard for it, I can’t let you be dragged down with me. I should’ve been smarter that day, I could’ve found another way – I could’ve! That way you don’t have to be here now to feel burdened by me!”

“I can assure you that never have, or will, burden me with anything,” he let go of her hands and wrapped both of his arms around her smaller form in a silent promise of never letting her go. “I’m here because I want to be. Gabriel has always found a way to trick others for years, he tricked us both when he first thought he was Hawkmoth, he’s managed to talk his way in and out of situations without anyone batting an eye and he has manipulated me for years into thinking that I was wrong about everything. And the fact that all of Paris believes that he’s some kind of hero while you’re suffering in silence after everything he put you through just proves how much of a monster he is. And I feel sick knowing that I believed that too for a while.”

Marinette shuffled in his arms. Ever since she became Ladybug, defeating Hawkmoth was the only goal she knew that she had to complete. She sacrificed everything in order to do that, her hobbies, her love life, even herself to some degree. And yet when the time came, she failed. Part of him just wanted Adrien to scream at her, tell her that she messed up and messed up bad. But seeing him look at her with the utmost love after she thought he would hate her for keeping these secrets and failing to complete the most important task of their lives, even after finding out that Hawkmoth was his father, a part of herself felt as though he were telling the truth about everything he said in that moment.

He let one of his arms fall and clasped her hand again, bringing it to his lips, “You’re not alone anymore Marinette. No matter what the future holds for us, we’re going to go through this together. You didn’t mess up; you didn’t fail, and you deserve to be happy. I’m here now, so please, let me take care of you as you took care of me and everyone else,” he gently pressed his lips to her knuckles as one more promise, “It’s you and me against the world.”

The dams broke once more as Marinette buried her head in his chest, wailing once more as he gripped her tightly with as much protection as he could give her in this moment. He let her cry as much as she needed to, stroking her hair as she got everything else out of her system while whispering and presses comforting kisses to her forehead.

A while passed before her cries turned to whimpers and her whimpers turned into soft, even breathes. Looking down, he saw that she had cried herself to sleep. Judging by the bags under her eyes and how deep she seemed to be in her dreamlike state, this was probably this first time she properly slept since her battle with Hawkmoth.

Her arms were tightly wrapped around him, as though she were begging him to stay – as if he could ever leave her after what happened. With one arm wrapped her waist and the other round the back of her head, he cuddled softly into her, relishing in the soft content noise that left her throat. The kwamis retreated to the other side of the pillows, giving their holders much needed space while close enough in case they needed them.

Before he allowed himself to fall asleep however, internally, Adrien made one more promise to her. I won’t let this happen to you again Marinette, not after this. No matter what, I’ll keep you safe and never let your hands carry that type of weight ever again. Now that I’m free for him, nothing will stop me from protecting you or leaving your side.

Only after making that promise, did he join her in sleep.

(In the morning.

“Plagg, how do you cataclysm a dead person?”

“Adrien I just woke up what the fuck.”)

I am so sorry it took this long! I swear I should’ve gotten it out sooner but it’s here now and I hope you like it! <3

[ladykailitha]

OK so this one might be a little out there, but follow me on this brain worm that I've been stuck with for a few days now with. We have never canonically seen either of the older Harrington's. We've also never seen Dr. Brenner in a personal private life setting. That being said, what would happen if Dr. Brenner was Mr. Harrington?

Oh no. Don't do this to me nonny...I've got my own ideas on who daddy Harrington is and it's juicy.

Back when I was first getting into the Steddie brainrot someone posted that in 1985 the head of the Department of Energy was a John Harrington. Yup the same department that ran the lab in Hawkins. Now this can go one of two ways.

Mr Harrington was complicit in the creation of the lab and when things went to shit after season two was made head of the Department when a vacuum from everyone else being fired or dead. Knows Steve is involved, but doesn't care. Is also the reason for Steve not getting a job at his work, because as far as Daddy is concerned, Steve was part of the Scooby gang that fucked up a good experiment going.

Or if you want to believe that Harringtons don't suck, that back in 1978 Mrs Harrington (a lawyer in my head but could be a journalist or just a nosy Parker) got to digging into the lab so close their home and the DoE freaked and started sending Daddy on trips all over the country and maybe even the world to keep him from looking at the lab too closely.

Mrs Harrington was fed lies about her husband's infidelity (as in there never were any indiscretions, she just was told there were) and started going with him on trips to keep a tighter rein on him. Every time some shit went down in Hawkins, the DoE would make sure the Harringtons never found out and any phone calls about Steve's health were rerouted and they never got them.

In the wake of the 'gas leak' at the lab, Mr Harrington was made in charge of the DoE, which actually allowed the government to cover it up better because now they could send him overseas to other countries for longer periods of time while they operated under his nose.

Cut to Steve in the aftermath of Vecna, hiding how badly he was hurt, because he's. Just. Like. That. And his parents come home.

Mrs Harrington calls out to Steve, but he doesn't answer. So she goes up to his room, to find that he has a high temperature and burns her fingers to touch. She calls out to Mr Harrington who comes running. Mr Harrington scoops Steve up and carries him out to the car. He rushes Steve to the hospital and manages to save Steve in time, if he had been only ten minutes later, Steve would have succumbed to his injuries.

The Party rushes to Steve's side when they hear he's in the hospital and the Harringtons meet Steve's new friends. They are shocked to learn that they're all still in school and that's why they didn't know Steve was as bad as he was.

Robin and Dustin are trying to explain things to them, but they are confused. Mr Harrington lets it slip that he's in charge of the DoE and he doesn't know anything about monsters and little girls with powers. Dustin pales at the mention of the DoE and runs to go get the new rescued (and resurrected) Chief Hopper.

Hop explains things to them in a less jumbled, rambling way that Dustin and Robin were doing. And they are appalled.

There is a lot more to that that gets into Steddie a bit, but I won't go into that here. But yeah. I don't think Dr Brennan is Mr Harrington, I think he's much higher up than Brennan.

[novankenn]

On and On it continues

/== Master Post List ==/

Dew Gayl and Octavia Ember one half of team NDGO were terrified of being alone in the halls of Beacon. It hadn't taken long after Arslan, May and Professor Goodwitch all vanished, and then reappeared a couple of hours later wearing those... blue dresses with golden trim... that fear of something greater than the grimm took hold of everyone. Especially those with shades of blond or red hair.

Nebula and Gwen had been called away during lunch, by Professor Goodwitch, which left the former blonde and former red-head exposed, as they had been basically using their teammates as human shields. Even though they had dyed their hair the deepest shade of black they could find... they still felt vulnerable.

Dew: If we get our asses back to the dorm we'll be safe.

Octavia: You think so? What about that story...

Dew: WE spread that story! It's made up. Pull yourself together girl!

Octavia: So are we going to run, or sneak it?

Dew: Sneak it. It would draw less attention.

Octavia: Ah... do you feel like we're being watched?

Dew: Now that... AHHH!!!

May: (Plops down in a seat across from the pair.) Hello.

Octavia: Get lost, scrub!

Dew: Beat it, before we beat you, freak!

May: (Shakes her head) Such terrible manners.

Dew: (Stands and leans over the table) Listen here, you...

May: (Cuts off Dew by placing a single finger against her lips) Shush now. No need for all this anger... no need for all your fear.

Octavia: You're kind of freaking me out right now.

May: Don't you wish to be free? To be who you could be?

Dew: (Sits back down) What the hell are you going on about?

May: The strength of motherhood. To bring forth the Grand-babies, the King Mother desires to spoil and love.

????: Blessed be the Grand-babies.

Octavia / Dew: For FUCK sake Arslan!

Arslan: Language.

Octavia: You two are nuts! Why are you bothering us with this garbage?

Dew: Like really? You guys seem to have a fetish for red heads and blondes. As you can...

May: Liars. Poor pathetic liars. We know... we always know.

Dew: Know?

Arslan: Blonde (places a hand on Dew's shoulder.) Red-head (Places her other hand on Octavia's shoulder)

Dew: No... no... this is our real hair color!

Octavia: Yeah... we used to dye it before! Hahaha... RUN!

Octavia pushed Dew but only got about a foot before being scooped up, and tossed over the table into the waiting arms of May.

Dew was looking over her shoulder watching Arslan slowly giving chase. Snickering she turned her attention towards the path of her flight...

Dew: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Dew slipped on the floor, terror causing her legs to spasm, as Neon Katt and Fiona Thyme both stepped through the cafeteria doors, wearing the same golden trimmed blue dress that May and Arslan also wore.

Neon / Fiona / Arslan/ May: Come sisters-to-be. The Grand-babies await. Blessed be the Grand-babies.

Dew flailed and squirmed like an eel on the shore, as Octavia just sat perfectly still frozen in utter terror while being held in a princess carry by May.

Dew: (Shrieking her head off as she was being dragged across the floor by her ankles) HELP US YOU COWARDLY FUCKERS!! HELP US!!

Neon / Fiona / Arslan/ May: Language.

/==/

[putschki1969]

2024/06/22 Blog post by Wakana 横須賀ジブリ編その２！〜ラムネと油屋と運動会〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Yokosuka Ghibli Edition Part 2!〜A Ramune, a Bathhouse Aburaya and a Sports Competition〜

As mentioned in my last blog post, my friend and I went to see the “Toshio Suzuki and Ghibli Exhibition”. We were so engrossed by everything in the exhibition that we didn't notice we were thirsty💦 When we left the museum and took a little breather, we finally realised how incredibly thirsty we were!! We saw some Ramune being sold outside the museum and were immediately drawn to it🌊 It's been a while since I've had Ramune~♪ Cold Ramune!! When I was drinking it, it made me feel like I was part of a TV commercial for Pocari Sweat. "Hiyaaaaaaah~ I feel so revived". Ramune has never tasted better than on that day...Just imagine, sitting under the blue sky, a fizzy Ramune quenching your thirst and soothing your dry throat...it was too good... Everyone, please try it as well..😭✨

Hello, this is Wakana (0￣���￣0)／

This time, I'll share "Yokosuka Ghibli Edition - Part 2" with you＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／! After leaving Yokosuka Museum of Art we hurried to Mikasa Terminal. My friend needed to run some errands in the afternoon so we had to part ways early...😭 She was also really looking forward to going to Sarushima so we are planning to come back someday soon✨

Now, this is what Mikasa Terminal looked like. Look at this huge banner for the "Bathhouse Aburaya Annex" When I went inside, the Ōtori-Sama were taking a bath🐤🐤🐤 There were no other visitors, so I asked the staff to take a picture for me🤗 (=> a picture of a woman traveling alone who also happens to be a hardcore Ghibli fan.) Next up you were able to play a Spirited Away AR game by holding onto the iPad that was installed in front of the big bathtub. When you look through the screen, some images will appear. (At one point, a note appeared which seemed to have been issued by Kamaji, when I clicked on it hot water came was splashing on the screen.) You have up to ten chances to take a picture! When No-Face suddenly appeared from afar, I was really surprised and took multiple photos! (Here are all the photos I took with the iPad. I was able to download them later) Anyway, it was a lot of fun 😂

After that, I went up to the second floor. Wow, it really did look like a bathhouse! Oshira-sama was not on the elevator with me. On the second floor, there was something called a "No-Face AR" but... I didn't really get how it was supposed to work *laughs* Initially, I thought I could become No-Face and control the images on the screen with my movements but that wasn't the case. I just watched money overflow endlessly from No-Face's hands and tried to scoop it up with my arms 😂 There was so much money... 🤣 (Maybe it wasn't that exciting because I had no one there with me)

Once I was finished there, I went to Sarushima but since this is the final part of me writing about my Ghibli adventures, I'd like to briefly share some photos of the stamp rally I did when I came back from Sarushima 😊Please forgive me, from here on out it's just a picture spam of me working hard to finish the stamp rally 😂😂 Thank you for your understanding 😂 First of all, I got the cardboard for the stamps at the Yokosuka Museum of Art!! ! Look! I was able to collect four stamps in total thanks to my willpower. Although I had collected the stamps, I didn't have the time or energy to go back to the place where I could get my prize stickers😂 It was too much to do in one day~🫠 It's a pretty large area😇 I got the first stamp at Mikasa Terminal! The second one was at Ichigo Yokosuka Port Market! It's pretty close to the terminal. There are many restaurants and souvenir shops in the large facility.😊I wanted to do one more stamp so I decided to take a short break. I had some cider😂 My energy was restored in just five minutes so I hurried to the next location! There it is😊 At Lawson😊 At that point, I was suddenly overcome with a mysterious fighting spirit that said, "you've come this far, you have to get another stamp!" Ignoring my exhaustion, I went to a final location. Here it is😊 MORE'S CITY at Yokosuka Chuo Station! Thank you, Chihiro, for waiting for me...😭✨ This felt like a true sports competition🤣🤣 I made it to the finish line safely!! But I felt completely drained on my way home😇

Al right, that's officially a wrap for "Yokosuka Ghibli Part 2"! I actually have a lot more photos from the Ghibli exhibition😂But I feel like it's time to stop now😂 I'll post them if I get the chance💓

I'll leave it at that for today!! The next Yokosuka blog post will be about Sarushima-Monkey Island!

See you soon~☆( *'▽'*)/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

2024/06/27 Instagram post by Wakana

[caramel1mochi]

Weekend Together [Gekko x F! Reader] [End]

Heya again!

This is the final part of the date! I want to continue this whole Gekko storyline because I'm getting many good ideas, but I don't want my blog to be clogged up with this guy only. I might save those for later but I have no idea what to do, haha.

Anyway anyway, this is the part!! This is the section that kept me up so many nights and I'm so nervous posting it, I hope it's good and I hope this entire date has been fun for you guys!

My next work will be about Chamber, so if you're interested in that, be sure to head to #chamber x reader and it should be there within a few days! Or stalk my blog like I stalk everyone else's.

❤ฺ·。

Gekko x F! Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Gekko gets over his anxiety and finally asks you out, watching delightfully as you finally let your guard down. Or so he thinks.

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Gekko’s lips twitched, before parting and taking the small spoonful into his mouth with an abnormal amount of hesitation. And his eyes widened once the dessert made contact with his tongue.

He’s had plenty of lemon cheesecakes before. But for some reason, it tasted so good when you fed it to him. Like some sort of addictive additives were sprinkled throughout whenever you’d lift it with the pie fork. Maybe that was your ability, haha.

“Good work. You know you’re quite the dote, right?”

You noticed confusion take over him as you scooped another slice, smaller than his. This prompted a giggle from you.

"I said you're cute."

He blushed when you put the same fork into your own mouth. Technically an indirect kiss, right…? Gah, you're messing with his head. Gekko swallowed the treat, smiling.

"So, um, where are you from again...?"

"Me? I'm Irish."

Irish? He stared at you, only now taking in the physical details. Beyond, of course, um, your 'structure'.

The scattered freckles that stood out against your pale white skin, your orange hair, and your celeste blue eyes. Of course, how did none of them put two and two together? The features that screamed Ireland?! It’s not like he was going to tell them, though. He didn’t go out on this date just so he could get forty bucks.

“But… your accent’s English, right? Like, the queen’s english, or something.”

“I put it on. If no one can understand me, how will I give out commands?”

“Really? So this isn’t your normal accent? Can I, um, you know, can you talk normally?”

You noticed his enthusiasm just from the way he slightly arched his back. You looked away for a second with a smile.

“Aye. Yer a cute hoor, Matt.” <Yes. You’re a cheeky one, Matt>

You sliced another piece of the cake, lifting it to his mouth.

“Been donkey’s years since I’ve gone on the lash, and here you are, tryna court me.” <Been a long while since I went to drink, and here you are, trying to date me.>

You didn’t notice him taking a bite; only focused on how he was unable to understand more than a few words. Not like it was easy either, he had to dig those out through your incredibly thick accent.

“Hm, I can’t be giving out. You chanced yer arm, didn’tcha?” <Hm, I can’t be complaining. You tried, didn't you?>

You were amused at his expression. Just like everyone who wasn’t Irish, they all had the same look of confusion whenever you’d speak normally.

“You should see my nan. Even my pals can’t understand her.”

“Your grandma?”

“Aye. She thought I wouldn’t land a good job if people knew I was Irish, and taught me the accent.”

You put down the fork as you spoke. Your Irish accent was toned down to a level he could somewhat understand, but he still felt charmed from such a simple move. Just the way you’d ‘tuck in the r’, as he'd say, it sounded like music to him.

“Oh, really? Why?”

“Times were tough on the lass.”

With a smile, you rest your chin on your hand once more, staring through him. And this time, you didn’t bother with the professionalism you worked to carry around all the time.

“You make a holy show, Matt. Always going scarlet around me. But I haven’t laughed this much in a while. Craic’s ninety with you, you know?” <You embarrass yourself, Matt. Always going red around me. But I haven’t laughed this much in a while. I’m having so much fun with you, you know?>

He grinned, enamoured with the way your natural smile carried your cheeks.

“And that’s a… good thing, right?”

“Aye. We should do this again.”

You grabbed the fork once more, scooping up another small piece of the half-eaten lemon cheesecake.

“Now, open wide.”

Just as you lifted the utensil, he complied and gladly bit down on the delicious treat. Getting into Gekko’s head was an easy task for you to take on. So, why not?