#I’d draw it out if I could but I’m supposed to be sleeping

[kutiekirby]

Js had a cute(??) idea to help cope with ii17

What if this was all just young Mephone playing pretend with his dad (who loves him) and Mephone made the contestants as little figurines and “hired” cobs to play the big bad guy and all the “dramatic” scenes are just silly as hell and it was all just them two sitting on the floor on Mephone 4s room playing with action figures

Like for example. The scene where cobs tells life and suitcase they aren’t real is just cobs acting and looking down at Mephone 4 holding two figurines in his little hands. And all the Meeple stuff is just things cobs made. The AirTags are regular size, he made a smaller model of the Mephone X for the sake of playing along. Mephone 4 and cobs sing along to The Future Is So Yesterday. What if inanimate insanity was just a father and his beloved, creative, maybe autistic son playing pretend.

[jezabelle9299]

Morning Sunshine S.R x fem! Reader

Overture- Sleepy Spencer x Morning person fem! Reader. They're sharing a room, and he has no idea how you're so lovely this early.

Cws- Exhaustion

A/N-Wow, before it's even midnight--I'm practically productive. Day 17, I'm very excited. This is shorter, but I do kind of really like this idea.

If you'd like to read the other things I've done this month you can do that here: October Masterlist

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By Day 4 of this practically endless case, morale was at an all time low. The small motel had enough rooms for everyone for the first 3 days of the case, but now it was the weekend and they were nearly packed. And of course Spencer’s luck had him stuck with the woman he couldn’t get out of his head for months now, in some cosmic joke where he’s trapped with quite possibly the love of his life–sleeping four feet away from him in a different bed. 

Of course it wasn’t actually a matter of fate, just a gentle push from JJ.

He stayed behind at the police station until he was sure you’d be asleep, then he muddled back to your shared room thanking every deity he could name that you were fast asleep. Only to thank each of them again at his exhaustion allowing him to just pass out without thinking himself into a panic just by being near you. 

You however were just a little bit overjoyed when Hotch was handing out the second round of room keys. Packing cuter pajamas was no longer an option, but you were still looking forward to Spencer being the last person you saw after this terrible day. If only he was actually there. You honestly assumed he decided to just sleep in Derek’s room to avoid you– a thought that hurt your feelings more than you’d like to admit. 

When Spencer did wake up to the lovely sound of his alarm screaming at him, he opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was you. He knew you were a morning person, but he never expected this. It was barely 5am, and you were bopping around in front of the mirror, headphones on, applying makeup while singing along quietly to yourself. He watched you for a moment, only drawing your attention when he sat up and you caught his reflection.

“Good morning” You looked at him in the mirror, and even though your makeup was only halfway done, he still thought you were utterly gorgeous. His first thought was how beautiful you were, but his exhausted brain couldn’t form a singular other thought yet. But you thought he was adorable, with his hair lovingly disheveled.

“It’s so early.” He knew you had been getting as little sleep as he had, barely 5 hours for 4 days in a row. How on Earth were you awake, up, and nice at this hour?

“You could probably go back to sleep for a few more minutes, we aren’t supposed to meet until 6:30.”

“No it’s ok, I usually like to read and drink my coffee before I have to get back to work. But what are you doing up so early?” He slumped over forwards, burying his face in his hands to rub his eyes. When he finally sat back up, he was reaching around to grab his glasses off the hotel nightstand, and you had to fight to keep from swooning.

“I was going to go get breakfast before we have to meet up with everyone, you can come with me if you want? I saw this place on the way here, it’s only like a block away. You can even bring your book, and I won’t bug you. I know not everyone’s chatty in the morning.”  You turned your attention back to your own reflection, and he hated the assumption that he would just ignore you over breakfast. Even if he hadn’t slept at all, he’d want to talk to you.

“I’ve been told I’m chatty all the time. Well chatty isn’t usually the word used, but that’s the sentiment–I’d love to go to breakfast with you.” 

“I like listening to you talk, for the record. But I’m going to finish up with my makeup while you get ready, ok?” 

“Ok.” He made no move to get ready, only starting to lean back further against the headboard. You had extra time this morning, but not quite that much. 

“That may require getting out of bed.”

“Ok.” He still made no move to get up, and you just laughed. He had to get up eventually, but you’d let him stay there if he felt like it. You could be a few minutes late for the morning briefing.

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: you share your first kiss with Daisuke.

tw: idk, insecure reader?

a/n: this turned out kinda meh, starting to burn out, I'll start with the actual plot in the next one.

wc: 1.4k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

You hadn’t meant to peek. You honestly thought it was a book you forgot you brought. Well, that was until you noticed the leather book had no title, which you then assumed was a sketch book your parents gave you in a misguided attempt as a gift that somehow ended up in your book pile. But when you opened it you realized you were sorely mistaken, sketches of pokemon, digimon, and the crew littered the pages. This was Daisuke’s sketch book. Not only was it because no one else on board would draw pokemon (as far as you knew), but the farther into the book you went, the more the pages were just filled with images of you. Whether it be just little stick figures of you and Daisuke holding hands, or full on detailed sketches of your face, all the way to your name doodled on the corners with his last name (or vice versa). 

Oh gosh, you felt like a monster. You weren’t supposed to be seeing these. Daisuke must've left it in your room by accident and here you were paging through it without his permission. You were a terrible partner. Snapping the book close, you squeezed your eyes shut. Why the hell did you keep looking? Damn you and your curiosity, you broke a boundary that you only hoped could be mended. 

With determination to make this right, you marched out of your room, the small book clutched to your chest. Thankfully it wasn’t too late, you had just been getting ready for sleep when you stumbled upon it after all. Honestly, it was surprising Daisuke wasn’t with you already, the two of you shared a room more often than not these days. It wasn’t a far walk to his rooms, everyone's sleeping quarters were close to each other. Knocking on his door, you didn’t have to wait long, the open door revealing Daisuke with his gameboy in hand.  “Hey,” You greeted.

“Hey,” He replied back, glancing up at you before quickly looking back at his game. “Jus’ give me a sec. I’m almost done with this level.”

“Okay,” You murmured, shuffling over to sit on his bed. That made Daisuke paused for a second, glancing at you once again and noticed your nervous expression. Biting his lip, he let out a groan when the game let out the familiar sound of losing, you had unintentionally distracted him and he failed again. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he tossed the handheld console to the side, plopping down next to you. He needed a break anyways, he had been trying to beat that level for thirty minutes straight.

“What’s up?” Diauke asked, tilting his head to get a better look at you.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, holding his sketchbook out to him. “I didn’t realize it was yours and I looked through it. I should’ve stopped when I realized it wasn’t mine but I kept looking. I am so sorry.”

Taking the book from your hands, Daisuke put it to the side and instead gently grabbed your hands, a small smile tugged at his lips, “Hey, it’s alright. I don’t mind, not that big of a deal.”

You paused, staring at him, eyes wide and slightly confused, “You’re not angry? Aren’t those personal? I went through your stuff.” It was like you were trying to justify your guilt, not able to accept the fact that you had probably over thought the whole ordeal. Not able to accept the fact that you could be forgiven so easily. Why wasn’t he angry? Or annoyed? Sure, he always seemed laidback and carefree, but he was still human. You had seen him insecure, and bummed out, it wasn’t out of the wheelhouse to see him at least peeved as well. 

“It was an accident,” He shrugged, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. “And it’s mostly just silly doodles, nothing to get upset about. I’d let you look at them if you asked…or even give you a few.”

“There seemed to be a few personal ones,” You murmured, hands tightening around his own, but your argument sounded weak even to you. 

Letting go of your hands, Daisuke opened his sketch book and flipped to an image of you with little hearts surrounding it, a mischievous grin on his face, “You mean the ones like this?”

You opened your mouth, face warming at how nonchalant he was about it. Glaring at him you huffed, “I can’t stand you.”

“Is it a crime to draw the one you love?” Daisuke asks dramatically, putting a hand over his heart. 

“Yes,” You responded in a deadpan tone. 

With a pout, he replied, “Well, you can’t blame me for wanting to draw something pretty.” 

Giving in to your impulses, you leaned forward and smooshed his cheeks in between your hands, “You can’t just say things like that and get away with it.”

Daisuke merely giggled, grin brightening under your palms. This was supposed to ease your cute aggression, not make it worse, but it seemed you still didn’t have a full understanding of your emotions. Perhaps you never will fully understand it, but what you did know was that you were going to make him pay for his crimes. 

Leaning forward, you place a short kiss on his forehead. Your heart jumped when you made eye contact, his brown eyes shining, watching you in awe. It pushed you to go further, moving your palms from squishing his cheeks to holding his jaw, assaulting his face with fluttering kisses. You made sure you didn’t miss an inch, stomach twisting in knots at how much affection you were sharing, but also feeling oddly content. When you finished, you pulled away enough to make eye contact once more. 

Daisuke felt his heart pound in his chest, his cheeks warm and eyes wide in awe. You had been pretty reserved in your relationship so far, not that he minded. You were clearly out of your depth, unsure how to accept and offer physical affection, but your kind actions and words showed how much you cared. Although he was also new to the whole dating thing, being affectionate with you had become second nature to him. Having you not only act first, but cross a boundary neither of you dared to cross took his breath away and made him feel all melty. 

Sure, you hadn’t kissed him on the lips, but neither of you had done more than hold the other. The feeling of your lips continued to warm his skin, and he couldn’t help but wish you just laid one on him, but he also respected your wishes. If you weren’t ready for that, he wouldn’t push. He wanted you to go at your own pace since you were clearly more uncertain in the relationship. 

“You missed,” Daisuke teased, watching you with a warm gaze.

Pouting Scowling, you smooshed his cheeks again, causing him to laugh. Your blood thrummed in your ears, your heart speeding up and you continued to feel more confident in your actions. You glanced down at his lips, should you…? Was that him giving you the okay? Were you even ready for that?

Apparently tonight was a night of acting instead of thinking for you. Relaxing your hold on his face, you placed the shortest peck on his lips in recorded human history. Daisuke barely felt it, but it still made his breath hitch. You had actually kissed him, lip to lip, the whole smoocharoo. You stared at each other, wide eyed and hearts beating in tandem. Such a simple moment for some was world changing for you both.

“Can…can we do that again?” Daisuke whispered, scared to break the atmosphere.

You nodded, a shaky okay spilling from your lips. It was Daisuke’s turn to act first, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips in a light kiss. You press your lips to his a bit firmer, but your inexperience shows as you're left unsure how to proceed. You felt a bit embarrassed, but it was hard to keep that thought as Daisuke smiled so much you ended up having to pull away. 

“We gotta work on that,” He muttered, his grin betraying his giddiness. 

“I think you just want more kisses,” You murmured back, feeling your heart skip a beat. 

“Can you blame me?” He laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Must be your lucky day then.”

“The luckiest.”

[bangtaninborderland]

JIKOOK X READER - TAKE TWO

Summary: You disobey both of your doms, your boyfriends on their only day off, earning a difficult punishment only it goes wrong, leaving all three of you struggling.

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, misheard safe word, oral, degrading names, mean doms jikook, spanking, hair pulling, choking, face slapping, humiliation, pet play, collars, d/s dynamic, threesome ish??

A/N: I’d had this in my drafts and decided to finish it, what do ya think? Also I’m sorry this was supposed to be all smut but I can’t help giving them angst, there is a happy ending.

BTS Masterlist

You knew when you got home you would be in trouble, both Jimin and Jungkook had firmly told you that you couldn’t go out tonight, that they both wanted you home so you could enjoy some free time together.

You didn’t listen.

In hindsight, the idea of disobeying both of your boyfriends, your doms, seemed great in the moment but as the taxi edged closer to home you felt both excitement and guilt pool in your stomach.

Realistically you knew that you’d wasted a day of their only free time, both of them having vastly different schedules now due to the solo work meant that it was a rarity for the three of you got to spend time together other than to sleep but you felt neglected, even if you wouldn’t voice it out loud you needed them to pay attention to you and if that meant a little disobedience to push them into punishing you then so be it.

You hadn’t gotten drunk, in fact, you’d chosen an empty corner of the club and sat there all night. Ignoring looks and offers alike.

The taxi pulled up outside the apartment complex and you were sure that the journey went a little faster today. You paid the fare, selfishly dragging out the time it took you to find the exact change.

You opted to take the stairs rather than the elevator, something you slightly regret as you climb to the tenth floor, forehead a little sweaty as you push open the front door.

You knew they were both home, the shoes stacked up at the door informed you of that. You slipped your own off, along with your coat and hung them on their designated hooks. Jimin had punished you more than once for throwing the items on the floor in your excitement to join them with whatever they were doing.

You lightly tread through the apartment, ready to exit up the stairs towards the bedroom when a hand grips your shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going.”

“Kook.” You breathed out, stomach in knots as you spun on your heel to look at him. “I-I was just going to freshen up.”

“Is that what you really want to call me right now?” Jungkook's voice was low. “In the playroom, you know how we expect you.”

“But-“ you started, cut off by a firm grip on your throat.

“I will bend you over right here and make your ass the darkest fucking shade of red.” Jungkook cursed. “Don’t push me right now.”

You nod in response, the second he releases his grip you make your way to the spare room jimin had converted into a playroom. You still felt a in awe every time your foot crossed the threshold, the carpeting that had once covered the floor had been ripped out and replaced with wooden flooring, and washable rugs placed around the room.

The queen-sized bed was against the wall directly in the middle of the room. Draws lined the right wall, they had been filled with a variety of things ranging from toys to collars, to condoms and lube, even a closet in the corner filled with the most delicate outfit, all of which were hand-picked by your dominants. The entire room was a display of just how much they cared for you and loved you.

You stripped down to your panties, folding your clothes and placing them atop the small bedside table. You shifted to your knees, your body faced away from the door, your head down.

The one thing the room lacked was a clock, you hated that more than anything. You had no way to tell just how long they kept you waiting, kept you on the edge, mind overcome by anticipation.

The door was pushed open and you could hear footsteps behind you unfortunately whatever one of your boyfriends it was didn’t speak. You couldn’t ask who it was, not if you didn’t want to face adding to your punishment so you sat there staring at your hands.

A light touch to your neck had you even more puzzled, Jungkook's nails were shorter than Jimin's, and Jimin's fingers were softer than Jungkook's but you couldn’t figure it out. Not until your hair was being tugged pulling your head back giving you a clear view of the perpetrator.

Jimin.

He grinned. “What is my name.”

“Sir,” you answered.

“See.” Jimin clicked his tongue. “Jungkookie thinks you have forgotten how to address us. Is that true?”

“She has Hyung.” You strain against Jimin's grip to search for Jungkook but it’s to no avail. Wherever he is, you can’t see him. “Called me Kook earlier even though the little slut knew she was in trouble.”

“Now Jungkook, let’s not be hasty hm? Let’s give baby a chance to explain herself.” Jimin looked back at you, his eyes holding a familiar darkness.

Regardless of what you say you know he’s going to make your punishment hurt. You opt for silence, eyes focused on his lips.

In his dominance Jimin was powerful. His height, his build, and his physical strength had absolutely nothing to do with it. No, see, Jimin didn’t need to be muscly to be powerful. One look from him had you ready to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness for whatever transgression you’ve committed. He was harsher than Jungkook, he was a sadist of sorts. He would never hurt you enough to make permanent marks but he revelled in the way he could turn your skin shades of red and purple.

Jungkook was entirely the opposite, he knew the strength he possessed because of his muscles. His form loomed over yours like a predator ready to attack its prey but still, he didn’t need to use his strength, he knew how to punish and play in other ways. He would ask you a question only to slap you whenever you opened your mouth, he would whisper sweet nothings all whilst choking the oxygen out of your lungs.

And you fucking loved it. You loved the way they both knew how to mould your body to their will, how to play off one another to keep you excited, and on the edge.

The only downfall was that they had picked up traits from one another, so much so that at certain times jimin would act more like Jungkook than Jungkook himself did, still, it only fuelled your fun.

“Sir asked you a question.” Jungkook reminded as he came out from behind Jimin.

“I-“ you began to answer before stopping yourself instead of opting to shake your head.

“That’s not much of an answer is it?” Jimin feigned a pout. “Is that a “no I don’t remember.” Or is it more of a “no I haven’t forgotten?”

You looked between Jimin and Jungkook before Jimin released his painful grip on your head, taking a step back as jungkook half crouched to meet your ear. “Did either of us permit you to look at us? You act disobedient and think you have the right to look at us whenever you want. Look at the floor, I don’t want to see you so much as move your head”

You bit back a whine as you focused your eyes on a spot on the floor between your legs.

“Now back to my question.” Jimin was further away now, you couldn’t see where though. “Have you forgotten how to address us?”

You shook your head again, not wanting to risk extending your punishment any further by speaking without permission.

“Speak puppy.” You could hear the smile in Jungkook's voice as he spoke the pet name. “You can talk.”

“I haven’t forgotten Sir.” You respond, still looking at the floor.

“Who am I, baby?” Jungkook asked, his voice low. “What do you call me hm?”

“Master.” You can’t stop the flush of red that graces your face as you mumble the title.

Jimin laughs, his stare is cold. “You say that but your actions prove otherwise, I can’t help but think you’re lying. Kookie, baby, what do I always say about liars?”

“They should be reminded of their place.”

“That’s right, I think we should show her exactly where she belongs and who she belongs to so for the next 24 hours you aren’t going to do anything without either of us permitting you to do so. If you need a break to use the restroom then tap one of us twice, if you’re restrained or we are out of reach then you have permission to tell us verbally but other than that I don’t want to hear you unless you’re told to speak, I want to see you on your knees unless we say otherwise.” Jimin takes a few steps closer, voice softening as he caresses your hair. “If you want to safe word out you can at any moment you can, if you don’t want to go ahead with this tell me now and we can choose alternative punishment.”

“I’m good Sir.” You whisper, leaning into his touch. “Thank you.”

“Have you eaten?” Jimin asks, crouching down so his face is in view.

You had, but not since lunchtime. “I had lunch, nothing else, Sir.”

He hums, thumb brushing over your lips. “Have you drank?”

You shook your head, you really hadn’t. Getting drunk hadn’t been the aim of your disobedience.

“Words darling.” Jungkook reminds.

You so badly want to look at them. “No Sir.”

“Okay, I’ll heat up some food, your master will keep you company.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek before standing up. “Be good.”

And with that he is gone, leaving you alone with the younger of the pair. “Why did you disobey us?” Jungkook wonders, you hear his footsteps as he walks closer to the bed.

You debate ignoring the question but your doms hated that just as much as they hated lying. “I wanted attention, Master.”

“Little embarrassing, don’t you think? We were so excited to spend the day with you, even had it all planned out, only for you to choose some sleazy club over us.” One thing you learned about Jungkook as a dominant was that his words hurt just as much as his spankings, he never let you shy away from the reality of your words and actions. “You’re lucky we have another free day tomorrow.”

You perk up at that, unable to stop yourself jerking your head up to look at him. “Really?”

He stares at you, as though anticipating your every move. His mouth went from a forced smile to a blank canvas. “No, but now you know how hopeful we felt at the idea of coming home to you only to find the apartment empty. Head down, if I have to tell you again I’ll tie you up here and leave you all alone.”

You looked down immediately, heart heavy and stomach-churning despite the empty threat. You knew neither of them would breach one of your limits and being restrained and alone was one of them.

You hear the sheets shifting as he sits on the bed. “Crawl to Me.”

You don’t hesitate to move, the floor rough against your bare knees.

“You’re going to keep my cock warm until your food is ready.” He explains, unzipping his hands and laying back.

You spring into action, giving his cock tiny kitten licks eventually lifting his shaft to wrap your lips around his balls.

When you’d first become their submissive they had both given you a month of ‘training’, each of them showing you just how to please them. At the end of the month, they decided they would do the same, the four weeks had been spent in a state of overstimulation as they tried out every little thing they could, eventually focusing on what made you most desperate.

Jungkook groans, his hands falling onto the bed. “Fuck puppy.”

The sound only encourages you more, you take the head of his cock into your mouth before letting its length fill your throat. Within a few seconds your nose was brushing against his skin, he gave you a few seconds to adjust before bringing his hand to the back of your head and guiding your movements. You wince a little as his grip tightens when you moan around his cock.

Somehow you get carried away with time, jungkook alternating between having you cock warm him and slowly sliding his length in and out of your mouth. Your lack of a gag reflex came in handy for whenever he wanted to use you like this.

You don’t hear the door open so the sound of Jimin’s voice has you jumping in surprise, reflexes making you pull away from his dick. Jungkook is quick to stop you, hand gripping your neck before you can move away completely. “Relax.”

You go limp on his touch, letting him guide you back down. “It’s a shame you can’t be this good all the time.” He brushes a few strands of hair out of your face, thrusting a few more times before cumming down your throat.

You swallow it as it comes, choking only once as it hits the back of your throat. He pulls you off as soon as he is finished, Jimin already beside you with wipes. “Here.”

You turn your face to him, gaze still on the floor where he has set your dinner tray. It was rare food was ever brought into the playroom, both Jimin and Jungkook being meticulous about the mess it could cause. You let Jimin wipe you clean, you yearned for both praise and reassurance but considering this was a punishment you were sure you’d get none.

When he was done with your face he began putting your hair up, his hands gentle as he brushed out the knots, you let your eyes close for a few seconds before opening them again to watch as the steam flew away from your food. “You can eat now.”

You can’t deny the food looks good, they were both amazing cooks but the lack of utensils has you frowning. You want to ask but the earlier warning speaks to you in your mind, you take another breath before reaching a hand out to pick up a piece of meat only to have your hand smacked down.

“Did I tell you to use your hands?” Jiminn asks, Jungkook still in his previous spot on the bed. “You’re so silly, you can’t even figure this out without help. You’re going to eat like a good puppy, okay?”

You put your hands back on your thighs before bending to lap at the food, you can’t help but want to die from the sheer humiliation of it. You had expected a punishment, you’d expected to be spanked and probably denied a few orgasms but you hadn’t meant to get a punishment this serious, you only wanted their attention.

You lost your appetite fairly quickly but you knew how much pride Jimin took in taking care of those around him so you continued to force bites down, the bitterness of your actions weighing on you heavily, if you had just listened and stayed home this wouldn’t have been happening.

Jungkook's voice pulls you from your thoughts as you force down another mouthful. “You can finish that and then I will shower you, you’ll sleep in the guest room tonight. You didn’t want to be around us all day so I figured one extra night wouldn’t hurt.”

You wanted to argue back, to tell them that wasn’t why but instead you stayed quiet, it hadn’t been a question and you hadn’t been asked to speak. The next 24, now 23 hours were looking very long.

You ate as much as you could before pushing the plate away, being practically naked was never an issue but eating your food practically naked was a humiliating feat and you were sure your doms knew of that, they knew what they were doing.

“We will be back soon, don’t move.” Jungkook picks up your plate, Jimin trailing behind him.

The door closes with a soft click, the silence is deafening. You couldn’t help but wonder what they were talking about, you always wondered what kinds of discussions they had in moments like these, you were sure they had them ‘dom discussions’ you had begun calling them but you’d never been privy to one and probably never would be.

Once again the lack of a clock in the room becomes apparent, not even the simple ticking of a clock to keep you company.

You missed them, you missed them so much that all you could feel was anger towards yourself for your actions, your stupid actions.

You were left alone with your thoughts for a little too long and by the time the duo returned, washed and dressed, you were on the brink of tears.

“Shower time.” Jimin declared, he helped you stand before detracting himself completely, they walked in front of you as always. “Be good.” He warns before walking off to the main bedroom, the one you all shared.

Jungkook had already had the water running, the temperate a little colder than usual but still relaxing. The dominant washed your hair, the whole shower passing rather fast as he wasted no time getting you clean.

“How do you feel?” He asks, tone still firm.

“Okay Master.” You mumble back, enjoying the few light touches you got as he washed the soap out of your locks. It wasn’t a complete truth but punishments weren’t supposed to feel good, you weren’t going to complain any more when you had brought this on yourself.

He grunted in response. The water turned off when he deemed you finished. “Out.”

He wraps you in a towel before walking you to the guest bedroom. “You won’t need clothes tonight. Don’t come out of the room until one of us gets you.”

You nod, it was simple instructions really. He caresses your cheek for a second before turning around and walking away, you want to call out for a hug or a kiss but you can’t. “Goodnight.” He mumbles, closing the door behind him.

You stare at the door for a second before looking around the room, it is empty, no one other than Hoseok stayed here one night the previous year, you could hear Jimin and Jungkook laughing with each other and it created a ball of bitterness in your chest.

You turned the light off and climbed into the bed, the sheets cold and scentless. The annoyance you felt at yourself had multiplied, tripled and then tripled again, you know realistically you could safe word but that wouldn’t be right, you deserved whatever punishment they see fit.

It was safe to say you had never slept as badly as you did last night, you spent the majority of the night tossing and turning in between crying fits. Despite the fact that the loves of your life were just a few feet away you’d never felt more alone.

Jimin and Jungkook had to have been awake for at least two hours by the time they remembered you, the door opening slowly enough for you to drop into a suitable position on your knees.

“Good morning,” Jimin mumbled, pulling back the curtains. The lack of pet names hurt but you ignored it.

You tried to sound happier. “Good morning Sir.”

“Did you sleep okay?” He asked, rummaging and dropping a nightgown into your lap. “Put that on.”

“Yes Sir.” You answered to both questions, you could suck it up for another day.

He waits until you have the fabric over your head before giving you your next instruction. “Go downstairs, your food is ready in the kitchen. You can walk down the stairs but I don’t want to see you standing the rest of the way.” He gives you a little nudge when you hesitate.

You get to the kitchen as fast as your body will allow, still lacking an appetite but eager to please you delve into the pancakes on the dinner tray. Jungkook isn’t in the room but you’re sure he’s in the apartment and you haven’t heard the front door open or close.

“Good morning pet,” Jungkook spoke loudly, making you jump a little before you compose yourself mid-bite.

You swallow your food before responding. “Good morning Master.”

“Sleep well?” He asks, you hear the tap running. “I know I did, Hyung was very warm all night.”

You don’t take another bite after that, you settle for staring at the plate. “Yes, Master.”

“Hm, I think I’ll take your Sir for a morning bath, you can clean up from breakfast.” And with that, he leaves the room and you are alone with it.

You fall back on your ass, the coldness of the floor not bothering you. You wait until you hear the water running to cry, you tried to hold back, it was a punishment, one you earned, but it hurt.

All you wanted was time with them.

You gave yourself another minute of crying before brushing the tears away, splashing some cold water on your face and beginning the dishes. There weren’t many but you took your time, this was something you could do perfectly.

You finished within 20 minutes, not sure what to do you chose the safest option and sat back on the floor, head hanging low as you mapped out the design on the tiles. You’re thankful for the little clock that tells you that you have been waiting for an hour and 25 minutes when the two return hand in hand. The smell of their body wash is strong, and comforting.

“Oh look, you can do something right.” Jimin praised backhandedly but still, you took it. “Come, I want you to ride my cock, put a show on for your Master.”

You were led to the living room, a rare occurrence in scenes although not so much punishments. Jimin was already half hard and you were sure it was because they had probably been fooling around in the shower, without you.

Jungkook sat opposite you, Jimin bunching up your nightgown as he pulled you into his lap, rubbing his clothed member against your ass. “Doesn’t she look pretty like this?”

“Useful more like.” Jungkook scoffs, arms resting atop the back of the couch. “She looks best when she’s sitting on one of our ducks, where she is made to be.”

You groan a little at that, the words both sting and turn you on.

“No one wants to hear you, shut up.” Jimin complains, shoving you to stand up as he pushes his shorts down. “I want you to sit here and be quiet, you’re nothing more than a pretty little flashlight for me to enjoy. Toys don’t make noise.”

You bite your cheek, and the feeling of his hardening member inside of you makes you want to rock back but you know better, you take what’s given to you as the pair continue their conversation as though you’re invisible.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Jungkook asks, toying with the control.

“Yeah, not an action though, maybe a romance?” Jimin adds, slapping your thigh as you gasp when he moves his hips. “Actually an action is probably better, to drown out the unwanted noise.”

Jungkook smirks and you bite down the sadness that swims in your chest.

The movie starts and Jimin stays still other than shifting every few minutes, you can’t help the way you get wet.

You drown out their conversation, counting the amount of black spots you can see on the rug only to be pulled back by a slap to your cheek. “You’re sitting here doing nothing yet you still can’t fucking listen?”

“S-sorry.” You stutter out.

“Fucking pathetic,” Jungkook mumbles as he takes his seat again.

The words run heavy in your mind, pathetic, stupid, useless and suddenly you’re silently crying with Jimin still inside you. You’re thankful the movie really does block out unwanted noise.

Maybe you were unwanted in general.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, make as much noise as you want.” Jimin growls in your ear, hands groping your tits as he fucks into you. His movements are fast, a sign he has been holding back for a while. You let out soft gasps and moans, his cock filling you up with more than you can handle but despite that you know, you just know you aren’t enjoying it.

“Yellow.” You whisper, you expect everything to stop but it doesn’t, nothing stops, in fact, jimin speeds up hips stuttering as he chases his release. “N-no” you speak a little louder.

You look at Jungkook, his head snapping to yours and Jimin thrusts inside you one last time and cums, as though just processing everything jungkooks eyes widen. “Hyung pull out now.”

“What?” Jimin asks, confused. “Wh-

You can no longer hold back your sobs, the second they tear free jimin is carefully pushing you off him and cradling you in his arms. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Baby, are you hurt?”

You can't muster a response, you just let yourself cry spewing endless apologies. “Sorry I’m-I’m sorry.”

“I think she safeworded.” Jungkook explains, running in with the box of things you’d compiled together for incidents just like this. “Here, water.”

You feel a bottle being pressed to your lips. “Baby, can you drink for me?”

“No S-sir.” You shake your head.

“Not sir baby, just min okay?” Jimin rubs a hand through your hair, Jungkook holding your hand and drawing circles to help you calm down.

“Such a good girl, you did so well, I’m so so proud of you.” The younger of the pair spoke, still holding the open bottle of water. “Please try and drink some for me sweetheart.”

You move your head out of Jimin’s chest with great reluctance, taking a few sips of water before denying it anymore.

“Thank you,” Jimin whispers in your ear. “Are you ready to talk about what happened?”

“Can we- bedroom?” You ask, too drained to explain it all.

“Of course,” Jungkook answers, taking you out of Jimin’s arms and carrying you up the stairs to the main bedroom.

Only when all three of you were settled into the bed, you in the middle with one of them on either side, did they prompt you to start talking.” Take your time darling.”

You don’t exactly know how to explain it to them. “I guess.. it didn’t feel good? I know punishments aren’t supposed to, but this hurt emotionally.”

“Okay.” Jungkook squeezes your hand, his fingers interlaced with Jimin’s behind you. “Thank you for sharing that baby, can you explain when it started to feel like that?”

“Yesterday when I…” you trailed off.

“Sucked me off?” Jungkook supplied and you nodded.

“I just thought I was being too emotional but you didn’t comfort me at all and I had no reassurance. Neither of you touched me more than you physically had to and then being secluded in the second bedroom just made me feel shut out and unwanted.” You feel embarrassed at how silly it sounds, you did wrong and were punished, of course, it would have been difficult for you.

They both take a moment to process it, Jungkook looking a little more sullen. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Anything else you want to add?” Jimin asks softly. “Take your time.”

“I didn’t…I didn’t act against you because I wanted attention in that sense, I miss you both. Lately, neither of you has been home and I just…I feel so lonely. You get to see each other most days at work but I don’t even have that luxury. It seemed like a good idea at the time but I feel awful, I wanted your only free day and you think I’m just ungrateful and pathetic.” You knew you’d broken one of your own rules, to never take something said in a scene as how they see you or view you outside of it but for some reason, today, it was harder. The mean words and cold shoulders were all you could think about.

“We don’t think you’re ungrateful or pathetic, we misjudged the situation and that is our fault. As your dominants, we have a responsibility to make sure you’re safe and happy and both today and yesterday we failed at it massively. Apologies will only do so much but I promise I will make it up to you every single day, I’m so sorry I haven’t been here for you.” You chance a glance at Jimin as he finishes talking, only to have your heart broken when you see him wipe a stray tear away. You don’t even chance to look at Jungkook, sure he is fairing the same way if not worse.

“It’s not your fault, work is important but I just- I don’t know.” You huff, words and emotions just too much. You let your head drop against Jungkook's chest, his heart beating faster than usual. “I’m sorry we failed you today as doms and boyfriends.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t fail me, I should have been an adult and talked to you about how I felt instead of ignoring what you both said.”

“No baby we did fail you, talking as just your dom, we failed you. We should have been more consistent with our check-ins and should have discussed your actions more before punishing you. I think between myself and Kook we both thought the other was being affectionate so we held back a little so as to not overly indulge you but that was a stupid assumption that will never be made again.” Jimin argues, his hand tracing circles on your stomach.

“I’ve never had a problem with the way you chose to punish me. I like it but this time it just hurt more emotionally.” You explained, not wanting them to change because regardless of how you felt about the punishment you loved them as doms and people.

“And that is our fault,” Jungkook says, not as a question. “And I will never let something like this happen again.”

“I think from now on we will be more comforting even through punishments, even if that particular day you don’t feel it’s necessary I think we.” He gestures to himself and Jungkook. “Would feel better knowing you are okay. I also want you to be honest next time, the second it doesn’t feel right, even if you’re unsure of why, you call yellow okay?”

“But I did…” you mumble, although you hadn’t done it straight away you’d done it when you desperately needed it and for a second it had been ignored. “On the couch I did.”

“I know.” Jimin mumbles. “I didn’t hear you, that’s no excuse but I truly didn’t and the second we realised it all stopped. I won’t say “I’m sorry” for that because no apology would be good enough. Doll if you want to leave the arrangement, you have every single right to. If you feel as though you can trust us then do not force yourself to be our submissive because that’s something based on trust and a mutual agreement. Nothing will change within our relationship if you choose to let go of that aspect.”

“Really?” You eye them both. “You’d stay even if I didn’t want to be your submissive?”

“Baby we aren’t with you because you’re an amazing submissive, we are with you because you’re an amazing human being. You take care of us, you remember the smallest details like when we mention something we want on our diet you turn up with it the second we can eat freely, you brighten up the room just by being there, you’re so hard working and always do your best. You have the most beautiful thoughts in life, you’re strong and honest. You have so many amazing qualities that I couldn’t list them all even if I tried but I am in love with you.” Jungkook stared at you, his eyes conveying everything his words couldn’t. “So am I” Jimin adds.

“I don’t want that, I don’t want to change anything. I love you both and this was an accident, we both did things wrong and next time it will go better. Things won’t be perfect and when they don’t go well we will discuss it and come out of the other end better and stronger. I trust you with my life.” You look at both of them, all three of you smiling stupidly through tears. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” They spoke in unison, both placing kisses on your head. “How about we order food and spend a day taking care of the baby?”

You know the question isn’t directed to you, it always makes you feel small whenever they talk about you as though you aren’t there, small and cared for.

“Yeah I think that sounds good, I’ll go make us some tea. Maybe sit on the couch? I’ll grab some blankets.”

“Couch sounds good. Baby?” Jimin nudges you, drawing your attention back. “Couch?”

You nod. “I thought you had work?”

“Oh no baby, I know I told you that we had only been given one day off but we have the whole week.” Jungkook looks horrified as he explains. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have been spiteful in that way it was wrong.”

“What did you do?” Jimin frowns.

“I told her that we had another day off and when she got excited and asked if I was being serious I told her no. I didn't realise she was truly upset by it.” He explains hurriedly.

“You dumbass.” Jimin scolds, reaching out to slap the back of his head. “Why would you do that.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” He explained honestly. “I didn’t mean to be such an ass.”

“It sucked but I wasn’t that sad.” You explain, both of them clearly over analysing every little thing, yes you were sad but not sad enough to warrant them being this cautious. “I don’t want you to be worried about everything you say and do, I’m normally great at understanding the difference between what you do and say in a scene and how you feel outside of them.”

“It doesn’t mean we should say things that could disappoint you on purpose.” Jungkook retorts, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the end of the bed.

“You were being sarcastic Kook, I can tell the difference. I don’t want you to beat yourself up because a scene went wrong, it happens, this won’t be the last time but I’m okay, I’ll be okay after a week of pampering.” You tease them both.

“You’re far too good to us.” Jimin sighs, burying his head in your neck.

The day played out slowly, all three of you migrating to the couch with a heap of blankets. You’d gotten fried chicken whilst watching a movie, they had agreed to watch whatever movie you wanted, and you’d settled on a comedy that had all three of you crying with laughter.

They had been checking in with you constantly, tending to your every need, whispering reassurance and comforting words to you whenever they could. By the end of their break, the incident had been forgotten and you were already excited about whatever happened during the scene you’d all planned for their last free day.

You’d been sitting in the playroom for a while, both of them coming in and out of the room frequently, more than they usually would have.

“How are you feeling puppy?” Jimin asked, hand running through your hair. “Good?”

“Perfect Sir.” You respond with a smile.

“Let me see your pretty face.” You lifted your head as Jungkook had told you to. “Beautiful.”

Jimin took a step back, not before kissing you softly. “Is there anything you want to try in particular today puppy?”

You bit your lip, gathering the confidence to ask for what you’d wanted for the past two days. “I want.. a punishment Sir.”

They both give you a confused look. “Why?”

“Because I don’t feel good about my actions, I feel unsettled knowing I broke a rule and then safeworded out of my punishment.” You explain.

Jungkook shook his head, moving to undo the collar he had put on you, only stopping when you moved your hands up to cover the buckle. “No, I don’t- I don’t need to stop.”

“We aren’t going to do a scene if you aren’t in the right headspace darling, your safeword is there to protect you, you can use it whenever you want for whatever reason and you will never have to make up for it or feel bad for it.” Jungkook explains, caressing your hands as he pulls them away. “I need you to be absolutely sure you understand this before we play darling.”

“I do, I do Master I do I promise but I just don’t feel right, I want to be good and I don’t feel good and you telling me I’m good isn’t going to help I need to feel like I’ve done good, like I made up for disobeying.”

“Okay.” He gives in after considering for a few moments, and Jimin nods in agreement.

“I think 50 spanks will do?” Jimin asks Jungkook.

“20 with the paddle and 30 with my hand.” Jungkoom responds, a smile across his lips. “You do the paddle.”

“Oh, you really want her ass red huh?” Jimin laughs, grabbing the familiar black one from the rack.

Your heart warms seeing them play around with one another in this way. “Come over baby, lay cross my lap.” Jimin instructs, before you can move Jungkook is attaching a leash to the back of your collar, you begin crawling behind him as if programmed to do so.

Jimin watches your every move, your hips swaying as you crawl across to him and climb into his lap. “Doing so well for me.” You preen at the praise, heart thumping as you prepare yourself for the first blow.

Jimin has a way with the paddle, he wrists flexible enough to swing the paddle on every inch of flesh on your backside. You feel yourself both relaxing and tearing up as the worries in your mind quieten.

You feel yourself being moved from Jimin’s lap and you can’t help but whine, despite the light throbbing on your ass you feel comfortable, relaxed. You quieten when Jungkook taps your thigh. “Hush puppy, I’m going to do your last 30.”

“Sorry Master.” You put as he pulls you over his lap, the rough material of his jeans uncomfortably digging into your skin. “Hurts.”

“You can deal with it darling, take what I give you.” He lands a smack to your ass before you can complain further and as he does all thoughts are knocked out of you.

You’re thankful they don’t tell you to count because once again you get lost in your own thoughts, the repetition of the smacks soothing you. “Taking it so nicely.” You hear Jimin and can’t help but reach out a hand for him, relaxing again once he takes it.

“All done,” Jungkook speaks, you blink away the confusion in your head. “Baby’s out of it.”

“She needed this.” You hear jimin but don’t bother moving from the crook of Jungkook's neck, the smell of his cologne comforting. “Poor baby.”

You loved moments like this, where you were thoughtless, with no worries, no guilt, just the soft buzz of subspace and your doms, boyfriends taking care of you. “Love you. Thank you.” You mumble into his skin.

“Don’t thank me, baby, you took your punishment so well for Sirs. You can sleep okay? We will have a bubble bath when you wake up.” A bath sounded good but sleep sounded better so you let yourself be pulled into whatever dream was awaiting you.

When you woke up you felt warmth all around you. Their bodies pressed flush against yours in the large bed. “Awake sweetheart?” Jungkook whispers. “Hyungs sleeping.”

You look at the way jimin had a hand tangled in jungkoks, his other arm wrapped around your torso. The three of you entwined in one way or another. It was moments like these that made their hectic schedules worth it, you’d had countless arguments before, disagreements, struggles, and bad days but you had an abundance of amazing ones, ones that made every single hard day worth it. You loved them, you were in love with them, and you always would be. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Jimin mumbles in his sleep making you and Jungkook laugh.

“I love you two.”

[lilacxquartz]

under the bed, where midnight slept

oc male!demon x human female!reader

plot: haunted by a strange presence every night before you go to sleep, you decide to get to the bottom of it.

w.c: 2.4k

tags/themes: one shot, oc, maybe light yandere, kissing mentioned, incubus, demons, reader insert, first person pov, light horror, unrequited feelings

side notes: developed a incubus demon oc a couple of days ago :) his name is midnight & i’m basically gonna try writing for him on and off to flesh out his character (but i can’t draw more of him just yet due to the arm situation).

***

I always went to sleep alone.

Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself—that’s what I wanted to believe. I lived by myself, after all, so it would have been silly to assume otherwise.

Yet, every single night, I felt it. A presence that lurked within the shadows, watching my every move.

At first, I chalked it up to simple exhaustion, convinced that my job was finally getting to me in the worst possible way. I worked long and heavy hours throughout the week, sometimes even during weekends. My unfortunate reality meant that I was often very tired, leading me to usually be on the brink of dozing off by the end of my shift.

But then my mind began to wander, especially as the recurring experiences became more and more commonplace. My secondary suspicion was that I must have been dreaming or I must have been hallucinating, however, why were the happenings then so linear? I had been under stress before and I have had many nightmares in my life—yet those always manifested in a chaotic manner instead.

And that’s exactly what started to bother me, because dreams, while recurring, couldn’t have been so perfectly refined.

It was always the same experience, in fact.

I would lie down in bed and just as I was on the verge of sleep, I’d hear it—a whisper of some sort, faint and scratchy, like an out of tune radio. Then the floorboards would softly creak and I would feel the second thing; the unmistakable presence of something, maybe even someone else entering my personal space.

For just a split second, right at the cusp of entering the unconscious world; I would feel a strange warmth fill out my otherwise vacant hand. Something unseen that would latch onto my palm, weaving what felt like fingers through mine and squeezing tight.

Yet if I awoke during the night for whatever reason at all, it would immediately vanish from my grasp.

I even checked under the bed with a flashlight once, never finding a single shred of evidence.

And in the mornings, the presence wasn’t felt at all.

Although sometimes, a trace of it did remain; a hint of something that was left behind. It was during the nights when I would get up to drink some water from the kitchen or to go use the bathroom, that I didn’t feel entirely alone. It was an unsettling feeling but it was there—lurking in my peripheral vision, just barely staying hidden.

It was the presence of something uninvited.

Whenever I’d flick the lights on however, there would be absolutely nothing. Not a single trace of evidence remained. Lost overnight, like a distant dream.

It would either happen just as I was about to fall asleep or not at all.

Despite this, it never truly felt like it was a problem.

For one, it wasn’t as if it was actually disrupting my sleep. In fact, I would always wake up feeling well rested with each fresh day no matter how overworked I would be. Yet, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there must have been more to all of this. Something that lurked in the back of my mind that refused to let it go as an unsolved mystery.

It made sense given my stubborn personality, I supposed. I knew that there had to be a reason for it all, no matter how insane it all seemed.

So when my unrelenting curiosity finally caved in, I could no longer ignore the unanswered question, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to let it go until I finally found an answer.

Whether it was all in my head or not—I had the right to know.

So, on one particular night, I chose to catch whatever it actually was that lurked away in the shadows. My plan was simple enough; choosing to fool it into showing itself by pretending to sleep. I slipped two wireless earbuds into my ears, tuning them into a podcast to hold my attention before laying off to my side, just like usual.

To ensure that I would actually stay awake however, I would on occasion stretch out my legs or clench my fists to ward off any hints of exhaustion along with deep, slowly measured breaths that casted the illusion of feigned slumber.

I continued with that sort of ritual in mind, just barely hanging onto my remaining consciousness, just about to fall asleep from what I believed to be a failed effort, but that’s also right about when I finally heard it; a subtle creaking, perfectly timed with each drawn out breath to mask its approach.

A shiver of unease crept into my body as I felt a lurking presence loom behind me, confirming to every sense I had that I was no longer alone.

In an attempt of bravery, I continued to feign sleep for as long as I possibly could, staying tucked away into my assigned position, having my hand right where it always was, hoping to successfully delude whatever it was waiting for me that I was actually on the verge of dreaming.

However, the moment that something slipped into my waiting hand, my composure began to crumble away. It was definitely a hand that I felt. I could feel it with every fibre of my being, in fact; so warm and soft, yet with an unsettling firmness, like marbled flesh. It clasped my palm tightly, interlocking its digits between my fingers in what felt like a suffocating grip.

My breath then caught in the back of my throat as the momentum faltered despite my efforts to keep my act running as smooth as possible. Towards the surface of my back, I felt something dangerous settle right behind me. Raw skin, hot against my own, pressed up right against my exposed flesh. A wave of panic coursed through my body, anchoring in the pit of my stomach as I then soon felt something attempt to embrace me.

I gasped in retaliation, unintentionally giving away that I was in fact awake.

Without even waiting for its reaction, my body involuntarily tensed, prompting for it to withdraw slightly and with a surge of adrenaline, I then tore away from the unknown presence—lurching to the other side of the bed and pressing my back right up against the wall.

I knew for a fact that it disliked bright lights, so my next course of action was to seize the opportunity of the moonlight that shone right outside to reveal its identity to me instead. With a swift pinch, I flung the blinds open, bathing my bedroom in a cold glow that revealed a monstrous figure to me, basking it in the soft blue light.

At first when I saw it, I didn’t really have a reaction.

I was left feeling stunned… speechless, even.

It was so beyond anything I could comprehend from this world, that I was left rendered unable to form a single coherent thought.

I mean, who could do anything different in my shoes?

Just over the bed sat a kneeling figure; its form shrouded entirely in wisping shadows—its body flickering like black fire with tendrils of darkness whipping from its void-like core. The creature’s eyes glowed a pale grey with lacking pupils, yet I knew that its gaze was pointed right at me.

My eyes continued to widen as I studied it—a rushed slurry of internal scolding flooding my mind, telling me off for daring to be so curious.

Back then, I didn’t know what to expect.

But it certainly wasn’t a monster.

Still, in spite of my fear, I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to learn more about the entity I shared a living space with.

With trembling courage and an insecure tone, I managed to utter, “What… are you?”

The creature’s initial reaction in response to me was to remain stationary, as if showing hesitation within its otherwise threatening demeanour. It then tilted its head to the side, emitting a low static-like hum that only continued to feed further into my unease.

Finally, however, it spoke.

“Don’t be afraid,” were its first words ever to me; it had a deep and almost melodic voice, almost human-like but tainted with something deceptive below the surface. I felt like a deluded sailor talking to a siren lost at sea, yet I was right at home.

I choked back any possible response I had brewing in the back of my mind though, paralysed by my own panic that locked my words somewhere far away. My heart thundered deep within my chest, drowning out all remaining rational thought and sent waves of fear coursing through my entire body.

I was trapped.

A tense moment passed us both by as nothing was said for a while, but then it started to back away from the bed and slowly arose to reveal its true height. Its features became clearer in the moonlight, revealing protruding horns from its head with long wavy locks of black hair.

I gulped hard as I watched it straighten its back and tower over me, its height just barely contained by the confines of my own bedroom—its horns almost scraping against the ceiling. I could just hardly, if at all, comprehend just how tall this creature truly was.

“I only wish to comfort you,” it insisted, taking a calculated step back. Whether it was to lull me into a false sense of security or not, I couldn’t be too certain and despite its words, I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending dread of it being an actual monster, at least at first.

Such a bizarre and surreal display left me wondering if I was in fact dreaming; my mind desperately grasping at anything that could have explained the impossible sight before me, but upon pinching my own skin, only the sharp sting of reality remained.

“Y-you’re real?” I could only ask, a hint of dismay colouring my voice.

“Yes,” it nodded, confirming my fears.

Another strained silence brewed between us for another minute. I stared at the monster and it looked directly back at me. I did my best in the meantime to express my visual discomfort, hoping that it would continue to leave me alone, however, it instead misinterpreted my stunned silence as an invitation to move forward and close the distance between us.

As it leaned in, I pressed myself harder against the wall in a last attempt to convey my reluctance, hoping—praying, that it would take it as a hint to finally back off, but it persisted, ignoring my silent protest and leaving me frozen from fear instead.

With continued building terror, I watched as the creature reached out, extending its hand towards me with what appeared to be sharp fingernails—brushing against my face before cupping my cheeks. I felt its fingers curl around the base of my skull, pulling me closer than what I was comfortable with, daring to press its face against my own, planting a kiss upon my lips.

I shuddered in relief as it slowly withdrew, leaving me once again separated away from it by a short distance. I still couldn’t make out a single feature on its form despite such closeness and yet the memory of its lips on mine lingered with the taste of its ashen breath.

I couldn’t help but feel violated after, yet some familiarity brewed, prompting a disturbing revelation to consider; has this thing done something similar to me before—perhaps when I was fast asleep?

My mind stirred at the thought either way, leaving behind a chill of unrelenting unease that rolled down my spine.

The monster continued to back away until it stood a comfortable distance away from me, leaving me feeling somehow confused. It was a strange situation no matter how I looked at it; it didn’t seem to want to harm nor consume me, rather only offering its touch and comfort.

It was almost as if it sought companionship from me instead.

I watched warily as it drifted just a little closer once more, as if struggling with its own inability to stay away.

“Please,” it pleaded, its tone bordering on desperate, “I only wish for you to sleep well.”

Perhaps it was the lingering aftermath of the kiss that was clouding my judgement, or maybe it was the lack of sleep after a long day, but something within me urged for me to finally surrender to its will, to let my guard down at long last.

Even if it didn’t feel like it was my own decision, at the time.

Swayed by a force unseen, relaxing my senses like some type of sedative.

So against my better judgement, I reluctantly gave in with a reassuring nod, allowing for it to move closer again all the while I did the same.

It wasn’t that I was suddenly unafraid of the monster that was on my bed, rather that I wanted for the peaceful nights to continue.

They were all I had left going for me in this otherwise unforgiving world, my only remaining comfort at the end of a long day.

I proceeded to lay back down on the bed, turning my body off to the side as usual, feeling its presence press against me once more. Its form seemed to envelop me; the shadows that spilled from its core encasing me in a suffocating shroud that pulled me into the darkness along with it. I felt as my own body gradually stiffened, slowly losing the ability to move a single inch at all, yet oddly enough, I didn’t feel a single hint of dread at all anymore.

All I felt was its comfort and warmth instead.

My eyelids drooped heavily as I finally surrendered to my own exhaustion, feeling them weld shut.

I then felt as the monster tightened its grip around me, pulling me even deeper into its personal space. Its breath felt fiery against my flesh as it dug its face into the crook of my neck, displaying an almost protective and maybe even wanting embrace.

As I drifted off into sleep and as its hold continued to tighten, it whispered something into my ear just as I was about to truly go under.

With a body that could have been sculpted from fire alone, its words felt somehow chilling and devoid of any remaining warmth. Its voice was no longer laced with a friendly tone, instead spiked with something much more sinister in its place.

“I’m never letting you go.”

And in that moment, everything changed.

My life was never the same again.

follow up story>>>

[guppygiggles]

Tickletober Prompt Day 5: "Favorite Tickle Setting."

What: October-themed tickle fluff!

Word count: ~2.4k

Universe: Sea & Sky AU

Who: Avery and Casper

Description: I am not really capable of drawing settings/backgrounds, so I decided to write a little fic for this prompt instead. It takes place in my favorite setting... Avery's lighthouse, of course! Casper introduces Avery and Finn to the concept of Halloween and gives Avery a much-needed tickling. This tickling is foot-centric, which normally isn't my thing, but I was in the mood for it today. Enjoy!

My fingers curled around the silky locks of Finn’s hair as his head rested in my lap, the glow of the television illuminating the three of us as we watched Hokus Pokus in Avery’s tiny living room.

With their first Halloween approaching, I figured it would be appropriate to introduce the pair to the holiday with one of my favorite movies, and both seemed to enjoy it; Finnegan babbled away with questions and giggled at the silly parts, while Avery grew quietly sentimental at the flickers of tenderness between Dani and her brother. As the scene with the bullies in the cages played and Max cheekily stole his shoes back, I was expecting a flurry of tittering from Finn – when I didn’t hear anything, I looked down. His head was heavy on my thigh, and his ribcage rose and fell with a predictable rhythm. 

“Hehe, had it been you in that cage, I believe I would’ve done a bit more than just steal my shoes back,” Avery joked – quietly, thankfully – as he turned his head toward me. 

I raised my eyebrows questioningly and motioned my head toward Finn. 

“Hurry back… I’m not done with you,” I quipped, yielding raised eyebrows and a shy grin from the cloud man as we parted ways. I took the short flight of stairs up to the kitchen as Avery took Finn down to his bed. 

A soft chuckle was Avery’s response, followed by a nod of confirmation. He gently lifted Finn’s legs just enough to slip out from under them. “I’ll take him,” he whispered, looping one arm under Finn’s knees and the other behind his neck, scooping up the sleeping merman and cradling him against his chest. “Why don’t you make us some tea, and I’ll be back in a minute?” His hushed voice was like a low roll of thunder. Finnegan cuddled closer, his ears fluttering in his sleep.

I stood, pressing my lips against the crown of Finn’s head – his wavy mess of hair smelled like driftwood. Then reaching up, I cupped the lowest curve of Avery’s head and rubbed gently with my thumb. 

Part of me wished Avery’s kettle was a fast electric one, but it had been hard enough to convince him to get a microwave; he disdained plastic. ‘If it can be made from anything else, it should be,’ he’d said, but after I’d burned enough meals using his conventional oven, he’d finally made a concession. I used it to check the time – just past ten. I watched steam begin to drift out of the kettle’s spout. My mind wandered back to the movie, and what Avery had said about it. My socked toes curled. I pursed my lips together. What a helpless position… suspended in a cage, feet dangling, shoes off… 

Living in a lighthouse had taken some getting used to, particularly concerning the stairs. Prior to moving in with Avery I expected to climb stairs once or twice a day; down to my car, and back up to my second-floor apartment. Now, my life revolved around stairs; up from the bedroom, down from the kitchen, up to the balcony, down to the front door. At least it was good for my legs. The change had been subtle, but since moving into the lighthouse, I noticed that I could push harder and coast farther when riding my skateboard. I wondered if Avery noticed. I wondered if he could feel the muscles of my legs when he massaged them with his big, soft doctor’s hands…

I shook my head. Tea. I was supposed to be making tea.

The kettle’s squealing whistle going from suggestion to demand snapped me back to reality, and I quickly took it off the burner. I poured a bit of water into Avery’s strawberry themed teapot, swirled it around, poured it out, then filled the pot and added the cinnamon tea Avery had been favoring lately. I turned toward the kitchen table.

The teapot plummeted toward the floor. How many times had I warned him not to sneak up on me?! I gasped as I braced for an assault of shattered glass and boiling water, but instead of a crash, I heard Avery’s relieved chuckle. His hands steamed as he set the teapot on the table. 

“Whew, close one. Are you alright?”

“Avery!” I cried in a mix of exasperation and relief. 

“Sorry, sorry!” He winced, hands out. “I didn’t mean to startle you, dewdrop. I was about to say something, but you turned before I had a chance.” 

“You’re lucky you’re fast! Are your hands okay?” I asked, my voice heavy with concern as I reached forward to touch his palms. They were as cool and soft as ever. 

He laughed humorlessly. “It would take a lot more heat than that to burn someone like me. I’m just glad you’re alright… You could’ve really gotten hurt if I wasn’t quick enough. I’m so sorry,” he said, his brow creased with regret. 

My flare of adrenaline cooled, and I smiled softly, cupping his face again. “It’s alright. I’m alright. Did Finn wake up at all?” 

“Heh, no… Ticklefish was out like a light.”

I took two teacups from the cabinet. “It sucks that he fell asleep before we got to the zombie part. He would’ve loved that. I guess we can watch the rest of it tomorrow.” 

I was about to pour the tea when Avery stopped me, his fingers resting on my forearm. 

“Would you like to drink this on the balcony? It’s clear tonight.”

+++

Growing up in the desert had made me accustomed to seasons that rarely felt like themselves, so I never failed to appreciate an October that actually felt like October; crisp, cool, and bursting with color as the leaves began to change. As I leaned back in the cushioned patio chair and stared out at the lights along the coast, cinnamon tea in-hand, I imagined what my first Halloween with Avery and Finn would be like; carving pumpkins, baking cookies, decorating and inviting friends over for a costume party, maybe. We’d never thrown a party in the lighthouse before, but I was sure Finn would love it – he loved spending time with our friends. We’d made so many since moving in together… More than I ever thought I’d have, given my reclusive nature. I shifted toward Avery, curling my legs up in the chair. 

“Do you want to have a Halloween party?” I asked.

“Here, in the lighthouse? It might get a little crowded. Who would we invite?” He sipped his tea, legs crossed elegantly as his eyes remained trained on the twinkling city lights.

“Hmm… Sunny and Dr. Lockhart, for sure… Maybe Sparky, Bori, and Niko? You know how much Arte and Tilly love dressing up, hehe… There are a handful of others I can think of, too. Do you think that would be too many people?”

“Well, we might be able to make it work, however… I think another venue would be more comfortable. Parties can get overwhelming for some – our guests should have space to step away, if needed.” 

I was quiet for a moment, thinking. We could always suggest it to one of our friends, but I didn’t like the idea of imposing… or making them feel the need to prepare and tidy up, afterwards. 

“Oooh! What about at the park? We could set up a projector and a screen and have a movie night there!” 

Avery giggled. “I think that’s a splendid idea. I’ve never been to a party, this should be fun! I’ll help with whatever you need, just say the word.”

“Well, actually… there is something I need.” I set my teacup down on the patio table. “I need it right now, though.” 

He turned toward me, his eyes inquisitive in the dim light. “What’s that?” 

I angled my chair toward him.

“Ahh- R-right now?” 

“I need those pretty cloud feet in my lap, please.”

I watched those inquisitive eyes widen, accompanying a blue flush I could just barely see in the dark. He jolted slightly, nearly spilling his tea. 

“Yes, right now.” I patted my lap, grinning. “I’m not gonna be able to get you later, since Finny is asleep… and you're not the least bit quiet, are you? I bet you thought I didn’t even notice your cheeky comment, earlier… you should know better by now.”

Avery set his teacup down and angled his chair in my direction… slowly shuffling his socked feet out of his slippers. 

“You know, when I said that… I was envisioning you in this position,” he playfully complained, lifting his legs and placing his feet on my thighs. 

I snickered. “I know what you were envisioning… but that doesn’t mean I’m going to simply give it to you… at least, not without making you earn it, fluffy.” 

Avery squirmed in his seat, a warbled grin already forming on his lips. I pinched the tip of his right sock, slowly pulling it off – his delicate toes twitched in the chilly night air. The elemental’s feet were big, pillowy, and softer than sin; like the rest of him, they were a tickler’s dream. I placed a fingertip on his blue-tinged heel and stroked lazily up his silky arch, all the way to his toes. 

He stifled a giggle, his hips twisting in his chair as he struggled to stay still. It had been a few days since I’d tickled him seriously, and the desensitization was apparent in his reactions; his movements were a hot spark landing on parched kindling, and I was immediately engulfed in a fire of ler rage. 

I tugged on his left sock, watching the fabric drag across his marble skin. Even this seemed to tickle him, because although I couldn’t hear any more laughter, he couldn’t keep still. 

“Ohohoo nooo… what’s thisssss? What’s wrong, Dr. Nimbus…? I can hear you giggling, what’s so funny…?”

“C-Casper… c-come on…” He whimpered, lowering his face into his hands.

“Look at these big, pretty feet of yours…” And they were – they were gorgeous. As I stared at his soles, I hardly knew where to start. He flexed his cornflower toes gently, and I was happy to take the suggestion. “Tell me… is the illustrious Dr. Nimbus ticklish on his pretty feet…?” I began pinching and wiggling his right toes, rolling their tips gently between my thumb and forefinger. 

“GG-EEhehe!” He tried to hide it, but his giggling was completely helpless. Despite the squirming of his body, though… he actually did manage to keep his feet still!

“Awwww, does someone have ticklish toes…? Does it tickle when I do this to you, sweetheart? I already know you’re blushing like crazy under those hands, so there’s no sense in hiding it from me…” 

Starting at his heels again, I applied just the tips of my fingers, scribbling right up into the curves of his delicate arches. No more shy titters, now; Avery really laughed. 

“EEEAhaHAHAhahahaa!” His toes went crazy, curling and wiggling and flexing as I tickled his soles, but his feet did not budge, even as he laughed into his hands. 

A fluster so strong I nearly whimpered stirred in my belly; God, he was cute. I could tickle him all night on that balcony, surrounded by nothing but the ocean’s waves and his gleeful laughter.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle~! Gosh, you’re so flushed not even your hands can hide all of it! Come on, won’t you put them down so I can see that smile of yours?” My fingers continued to gently scratch his arches, working up to the sensitive balls of his feet.

“P-PLehehehease C-ahahahahasper!” 

“Please Casper what?” I giggled, leaning down to kiss his toes – first the left set, then the right. This made his laughter squeaky and embarrassed, causing him to squirm harder.

“Come on, thunderhead… put your hands down, before I have to really tickle you… coooooochie coochie coooo~ I’m gonna tickle these feet alllllll night, Avie…”

In a huff, Avery finally put his hands down, revealing a face that was almost completely blue. As I crawled my fingertips up his soles and nestled them into the silky ridges beneath his toes, he threw his head back, laughing uproariously into the night sky as his shoulders relaxed, giving in to the sensation.

“EEEEHEHHEHE PLEHEHEHEASE~!”

“There we go! Ohhhh, look at you! Awww, look who’s laughing so hard from a little tickling on his feet! Tickle, tickle! Laugh for me, handsome…” 

And he did; deep, thunderclap-like belly laughs boomed out from the elemental as I let my fingers dance all over his squishy, delightfully sensitive feet. His skin began to glow in the dark that surrounded us, and I could see white sparks of light beginning to fizzle and pop around the border of his head like a freshly-lit sparkler… a private fireworks show, just for me. 

I drew this out for a good while, teasing, tickling, and playing with his feet until I could tell he was starting to get tired, his laugh taking on a slightly hoarse quality as a single tear slid down his flushed cheek. I slowed to a stop, my hands forming gently around his feet and massaging them soothingly. 

“Are you alright, ticklish?” I asked tenderly, gently kneading my thumbs along his arches. He groaned softly as he caught his breath. 

“Oooh… whew… yes, hehehe… goodness, you really got me… ahhh, that felt really nice – it’s been a few days since I laughed so hard.” 

He smiled at me, then – the big, giddy smile of someone who’d just been tickled to hysteria. My heart melted, and I had to fight the swell of emotion gathering in my throat; to say I adored him was an understatement. As I finished rubbing his feet, I put his socks back on them and let him return them to his slippers. 

“Avery, for once… you look more tired than I feel.”

“Hehe, you wore me out! It’s a lot of work producing all that electricity, you know,” he giggled, standing. “It’s starting to get cold, and late… I think I need a soft, warm… ticklish human to share my bed with. Know anyone who might be up to the task?” 

I stood, too, wrapping my arms around Avery’s waist. As he returned my embrace, I felt his soft fingertips gently tickle down my back, making me giggle against his lips as I kissed him. 

“I have a few ideas… but if you make me wake the fish up, you’d better be prepared for round two.” 

[stvharrngton]

closer

a/n: part 2 to fuck about it is here! it’s inspired by another parx song and one of my favourites at that :^)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, unprotected p in v, thigh riding, exes/fwb to lovers, soft dom!steve vibes, angst at the start

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @variant-lokitty @kennedy-brooke

I got my space but what I’d pay, for you

The red numbers on the clock read 04:37. You weren’t sure what sleep you had managed to get, if any. Steve’s soft snores next to you now are too much of a distraction.

You were in his bed, in his bedroom, but you didn’t feel present. It felt like groundhog day, same old shit different day. You and Steve would hook up after a party or a random phone call at 1AM, you’d sleep over, go back to acting like you hated each other and do it all over again a couple days later.

You went from spending every waking minute together to only seeing each other in mutual friend spaces, to only being close in secret. And man, what you wouldn’t give to go right back to the start.

It all felt too much. Too much being here, next to him, when you didn’t belong here. Not really. You had to get out.

You gently rose from the bed, fearful of waking Steve, tiptoeing your way out of his room and downstairs to the kitchen. You sighed before pouring yourself a glass of water. You contemplated if you could get back to your place in just your panties and one of Steve’s old t-shirts without raising any suspicion.

I need you closer or I need it over

“Couldn’t sleep?” A low raspy voice asked from behind you.

It would have startled you if you didn’t go through this exact routine every other week.

“Something like that.” You shrugged, taking a sip of the cool water.

You felt his eyes on you, raking up and down your body. You couldn’t bear to return the favour, his big brown eyes eager to draw you in. The chest hair decorating his pecs, the boxers hanging low on his hips all too dangerous.

“You wanna head back to bed?” Steve asked, tone calm and quiet, “It’s way too early.” He stretched his arm around your back. A simple gesture yet one you couldn’t stand.

“I’m just gonna go home, Steve.” You shrugged his arm off you, spinning on your heel to start up the stairs again.

“What? Are you crazy?!” Steve started, quick to follow you, “It’s like five in the morning, you’re not going anywhere. Just come back to bed.”

You sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Steve.”

The boy had the nerve to roll his eyes, scoffing at your statement under his breath. “Come on, this again?” He was flailing his hands about now, “This was supposed to be fun, remember? No strings attached, no feelings.”

You laughed in disbelief, “You said no feelings, Steve. You said no strings attached. You barely gave me five minutes to process our breakup which you never gave me a real reason for, by the way.”

The tears began to well in your eyes, purely out of anger and frustration. You felt awful inside, full of regret and nausea. Except you didn’t really regret entering this agreement with Steve, not in the beginning at least, longing to get those intimate moments with him whenever you could.

“But my feelings are still very much here, Steve. And it’s just, fuck–, it’s just too much. So, I’m ending it.”

‘Cause you’re the holiday I celebrate too late, you’re the eyes that I gave up trying to captivate

Steve stood there in the middle of his kitchen dumbfounded. Lips moving but no words were coming out. He couldn’t think of anything to say, nothing that would make you crawl back into bed with him at least. Instead, he let you get angrier, get more upset, he let you keep talking.

“You’re so selfish, Steve. We always hookup when you want to, on your terms. You’re saying you never once considered how I felt?”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry, huh?” Steve asked, his tone a little harsh and condescending. He was tugging at his hair now, frustration evident in the tinge of red on the top of his ears.

“I want to know why.” You said, wet eyes blinking up at the boy, your lips downturned into a frown.

“Why, what?” Steve shot back with.

“I want to know why you broke up with me, Steve.” You sighed, shoulders slumped, “I deserve that much from you.”

He sighed, the angry, frustrated look on his face became one of sadness and despair. Tongue poking the side of his cheek, his eyes not able to meet your own. Instead his gaze was focused on his feet, a guilty feeling churning in his stomach.

“Cause I didn’t deserve you, okay?” He began, voice shaky, “So I sabotaged us, broke my own heart before you could, you know? Before you found someone better.”

You thought he was ridiculous, that the reason was some sort of cop out. The typical ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ schtick. But you knew Steve, and you knew when he was being serious or telling the truth and unfortunately, this was one of those times.

He grabbed your arm, wrapped his fingers around your wrist as you rolled your eyes, urging you to stay and listen. “I know it sounds crazy and really stupid but it was easier that way. It was too late before I realised I made a massive mistake.”

‘Cause I love you, or I want to, but I don’t know how

The kitchen was silent, save for the dripping tap in the kitchen sink, the ticking clock on the wall. The silence wasn’t awkward, nor was it comfortable. You were appreciative of his honesty, but it didn’t make it sting any less. Knowing that Steve threw your relationship down the toilet because of his self esteem was upsetting, especially when you thought Steve was nothing but the perfect boyfriend.

“Steve–,” your features softened, your pent up frustration faltering.

“No, let me finish, please?” Steve asked, eyes pleading, “It’s the least I owe you.”

You nodded reluctantly, stood barefoot in the middle of the kitchen at five-thirty AM. He started with a sigh, fingers running through his messy bed hair.

“I was stupid,” he started, taking your hands in his much larger ones now, “you know, I overthought everything. I acted crazy, because you– you were perfect and I loved you but I just didn’t know how to.”

His speech was heartfelt and sincere, a real tug at your heartstrings. In your time apart your feelings for Steve never once faltered, you still loved him, adored him. You felt bitterness towards him because he seemed fine, no heartbreak, no tears. What you didn’t know was that Steve’s head was still filled with thoughts of you, thoughts and dreams that kept him awake at night with a chest full of regret.

“Loved?” you breathed, doe eyes blinking up at the boy. You knew you had no right, but it hurt thinking that Steve had ever stopped loving you. Made your heart sink to the pit of your stomach, your brain was telling you to leave, to not stick around long enough to hear the end of the tragic song but your legs simply wouldn’t move.

Steve tried his luck, long fingers reaching up to stroke at your soft cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at his touch, missing the soft intimacy you craved so much from your ex-boyfriend.

“Love.” He whispered matter of factly, a soft smile creeping on his lips. “I love you. Never stopped.”

There was something in the way he looked at you, a glint of hope, a glimmer of longing. You tried to ignore the butterflies fluttering throughout your stomach, tried to ignore Steve’s soft lips and the sprinkling of freckles and moles across his skin.

“Why wouldn’t you say something, Steve?” You spoke softly this time, a total 180 of your prior tone. So badly you wanted to wrap your arms around him, to pull him in closer but your head was fuzzy, unsure where you stood.

“Are you kidding me?” He scoffed jokingly, “I thought you’d never want to speak to me again, let alone have a serious conversation where I begged you to take me back ‘cause I’m a giant idiot.”

“You’re right,” you chuckled, “you are a giant idiot, Harrington.”

“You can say that again.” Steve sighed, both hands reaching up to cup your cheeks now, thumbs stroking over your skin, “I know you probably have loads of questions which I will definitely answer, but right now all I can think about is kissing you.”

“Are you asking if you can kiss me?” You asked, a subtle teasing lacing your tone. Voice playful and hopeful. Steve was right, you did have questions and you had no idea where you stood but all that could wait. All you wanted was his lips on yours.

“Can I?” Steve whispered, voice all saccharine sweet, low and sultry. Lips inching in closer to yours.

You let your actions speak for you, hands climbing up his chest, dainty fingers finding their way to Steve’s neck. You saw a glimpse of his smirk before your lips were brushing against his own.

You let yourself melt into the kiss, Steve’s soft lips sucking you right in. The kiss felt different than usual, rather than hot and messy, rushed and horny, it was sweet, passionate. Slow and soft. It felt like Steve, your Steve.

It felt like a lifetime that you were stood in Steve’s kitchen, lips melding together perfectly. His large hands began to wander your body, fists bunching his old t-shirt that swamped your body. You pulled away from one another, foreheads resting against one another, the tip of Steve’s nose brushing along the slope of yours, chests heaving as you both took a breath.

The pair of you both sported wide grins as Steve mumbled out, “That was nice.”

“Yeah, it was.” You replied, voice all sing-songy, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip playfully, “I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Yeah?” Steve chirped, thumb swiping over your bottom lip, “How ‘bout right now?”

You squealed when he wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you up so you could wrap your legs around him, heels crossed at his tailbone. His lips were back on yours in an instant as he carried you through to the lounge, falling back onto the couch with you in tow.

Steve’s hands wandered down your back as you were perched in his lap, your fingers curling through the strands of soft brown hair atop his head. Steve hummed at the feeling, the vibrations rumbling in his chest as he kissed you a little harder, a little deeper. You were no stranger to makeout sessions with Steve, even post breakup, but this felt right. This felt normal, like you knew you wouldn’t ever have to skip out at seven AM again before anyone saw you.

The boy pulled away from you, lips pressing short, quick kisses to the column of your throat, mumbling between pecks, “You’re perfect, my beautiful girl.” Steve cooed.

You whimpered at both the feeling of his lips on your neck and the words that left his mouth. You couldn’t help but let it hit you right in your lower stomach, pressure building with every kiss of Steve’s lips, every squeeze of your ass with his large hands.

“Your girl?” You asked innocently, eyelashes fluttering as you felt the heat rise up your body, goose pimples simultaneously covering your skin.

“That’s right, honey,” Steve breathed, “my girl.”

Your hips began to move absentmindedly. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your skin, his hands all over your body, his words an aphrodisiac and the more he kept talking, the more needy, desperate you became.

“And what does my sweet girl want, hm?” Steve asked softly, one of his hands skimming underneath your t-shirt, his fingers brushing over your tits, thumb circling over one of your nipples.

“Fuck,” you whined, arching your back and pressing your chest further into Steve’s touch, “you, Steve. I want you. Please?”

He chuckled at how fragile you sounded, your whines and whimpers only serving as music to his ears. “I’m all yours, baby.” The boy responded, hand sneaking lower, fingers circling over your clit over the material of your panties.

You let out a strangled moan at the almost-there contact, feeling the arousal poole at your core. You bucked your hips into Steve’s hand, hands bracings themselves on his shoulders as you began to grind your heat over his meaty thigh, his fingers rubbing at your clit with every movement.

“Oh, that’s it, baby,” he cooed, “there you go. That feel good, huh?”

Steve’s voice was syrupy sweet as he whispered in your ear, urging you to chase your high, to make yourself feel good at his expense. You could only respond to his question with a high pitched whine, a sound that had Steve all giddy, grinning from ear to ear.

“God, look at you, sweetheart,” Steve mused, cheeks flushed and eyes hazy with lust, “making a mess of yourself all over my thigh. Fuck.”

Your hips began to move faster, desperately trying to get yourself to your climax along with Steve’s fingers on your throbbing clit. You whimpered the boy’s name into the early morning sunrise, eyes heavy and heart longing for him.

Steve coaxed you to your first orgasm with his skilful fingers, soft words of praise and encouragement whispered under his breath. You came undone with a shrill cry, a sweet groan of curse words and pretty noises tumbled from your lips as you shook against Steve’s thigh.

He hushed you with his lips, kisses swallowing up your moans and whines. He hummed against your lips as your orgasm washed over you, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as you let the tension leave your body.

The boy had a subtle smirk on his face when you pulled away, cheeks flushed and his bottom lip settled firmly between his teeth. You giggled as you tried to hide your face away in the crook of his neck, the smell of sleep still evident on his skin.

“Ah, ah,” he teased, “let me see you.” He spoke quietly, pulling you back gently as he cupped your cheek with one hand. “Beautiful,” he cooed with a gentle kiss to your lips.

You felt the heat creep up your cheeks at his admission, the feeling of Steve’s hands on you and his hard cock pressing into your core through the cotton of his boxers ever present in the front of your mind. You felt him tense as you moved over the bulge gently, the sound music to your ears.

“Fuck,” he breathed. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed, his large hands moving to your thighs, his fingers digging into the doughy flesh. It only spurred you on, the noises leaving his pretty lips, the way his head was rolled back against the back of the couch.

“Baby,” he whined, “fuck. I gotta feel you. Please?” Steve’s eyes were wide and glassy, pupils dilated and dark. His cock was aching and begging to be touched, desperate to be swallowed by your pillowy walls.

You nodded with intent, standing up to rid yourself of your shorts and underwear as Steve did with his boxers. You watched with a slack jaw as Steve’s cock sprang to attention, hard and thick against the thick trail of hair that decorated his lower stomach.

Breath hitching in your throat, Steve lathered up his cock with his own saliva, fingers wrapping around his length as he ushered you back onto his lap. You held onto Steve’s shoulders as you lowered yourself onto his cock, both of you groaning at the stretch.

You sunk down inch by inch until Steve was buried in your pussy to the hilt. The stretch was a sweet pain, sinful and worth every wince. The boy cursed as you began to move, gentle and slow as you gave him a nod, a hint to pull you along his length. Steve could only abide as he moved his hands to your ass, palms squeezing the flesh as he pulled you back and forth in his lap.

“Jesus,” he groaned, throaty and raspy, eyes trained on your face, how your features were twisted in pleasure, “you feel so fucking good.”

You could only whine in response, mind too busy to focus on anything else except for how the tip of Steve’s cock was brushing that sweet spot deep inside you. You began to move your hips faster, fingernails leaving pretty marks in his freckled skin, your wetness dripping down Steve’s cock, a sticky mess trickling down his heavy balls.

Steve was losing his mind, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your ass coming down against his thighs as you rode him, the poor boy was in a tiz. He didn’t know where he wanted his hands most; your hips or your waist, your ass or your tits, on your face or in your hair. The decision was impossible.

Closer. Steve needed you closer. Sure, your bodies were entwined, his cock buried inside you, your hands all over each other. But it wasn’t enough. He shifted you both forward on the couch, his arms wrapped around the small of your back, your legs instinctively wrapping around his own.

You were sat chest to chest in his lap, his hand shoving your, his, t-shirt up your chest, your nipples free to brush up against the coarse hair of his chest. You both moaned out loud at the close contact, his hands on your back urging you to grind on his length.

“Fucking hell,” Steve moaned, plump lips engulfing one of your nipples, tongue licking over the bud, “you’re amazing. Can’t believe I let this pussy go.”

Word vomit of praise and lustful ramblings was Steve’s tell tale sign that he was close to his own climax, his orgasm right around the corner. Your fingers were stuck in the boy’s hair, your lips flying to his, kissing him like your life depended on it.

“Steve,” you moaned between kisses, noses knocking against one another. Your hips seemed to pick up the pace with every roll, your clit throbbing and aching.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, forehead resting against yours, his big brown eyes wide and enticing. His lips brushed against your own with every word he spoke, “You making yourself feel good on my cock?”

“Yes,” you cried, eyes squeezed closed as you felt the coil in your lower stomach tighten, “please, I’m gonna cum, Stevie, shit—.”

“Yeah? Fuck,” Steve groaned, hand snaking between your clammy bodies so he could rub at your delicate clit. “gonna cum f’me, pretty? Make a mess all over my cock, yeah? That’s a good girl.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moaned loudly, eyes fluttering closed as you felt the beginnings of your orgasm rock your body. Your hips rocked faster, harder, desperately chasing your climax.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, “gonna let me cum inside you? Fill up this pretty little pussy like she deserves.”

“Yesyesyes,” you chanted as the coil snapped, warmth spreading throughout your body as you came undone. Steve wasn’t far behind you, two more rolls of your hips and he was painting your insides with his seed.

He cried out your name like a song, face buried in your neck as his fingers dug in the skin of your waist. His toes curled in the plush carpet as he whined and whimpered into your soft flesh.

The orange-y pink glow of the sunrise over the horizon basked you both in a golden gleam. The rays covered Steve in a pretty radiance, one you hadn’t seen in a while. A weight off his shoulders, perhaps, or an old flame in his lap.

Neither of you spoke for a while, too busy taking in the comfortable silence. You hadn’t moved a muscle, cept to rest your head on the boy’s chest, his fingers drawing delicate patterns on your bare skin.

You didn’t know what this meant for you, both of you were pretty clueless where this left you, where Steve’s confession would take your relationship. But you didn’t care. Not one bit.

You only had tomorrow to look forward to now.

[noctylisse]

I Knew I'd Curse You For The Longest Time

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ In which you curse Suguru Geto for, well, being Suguru Geto.

Suguru Geto x Gn! Reader (not proofread)

Fuck Suguru Geto for having those stupidly attractive bangs.

It’s the way he gently attempts to tuck them behind his ears with one hand as he smoked. Each time he does, they end up falling forward to frame his stupidly attractive face anyway.

You’re looking at him respectfully, you swear. It’s just you and him at this moment, waiting for your classmates, Satoru Gojo and Iori Utahime to meet you outside the closed basketball court.

Normally you wouldn’t want to stand near a smoker, but this man just seemed to draw you in somehow.

Suguru Geto was a charmer, and you simply couldn’t resist. He’s a gentleman, too. He greeted you with a smile when you bumped into each other in the hall, opened the door for you as you both went out the main building, and even asked you if it was alright for him to smoke at that moment. You know it’s all the bare minimum, but you figured he could do literally anything humane and you’d feel your cheeks flush.

You recall those moments when you and your middle school friends would excessively cough around smokers to try and make them feel bad for smoking. But now, you think that if you were to ever do that, it would be to get Suguru Geto to coddle you.

He meets your eyes as he exhales the smoke, and you smile. He does, too.

You don’t know Suguru Geto that well yet, but you yearn to know more about him.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Fuck Suguru Geto for having such a sweet voice.

“You okay?” He asks as he gently holds your hand, bringing you toward him. His eyes roam to assess you for possible injuries.

You nod. You feel his thumb press against your pulse.

“I’ve got you, you’re safe.” He says with that addictingly smooth voice of his. He thinks you’re still deeply shaken from what had just happened.

You narrowly dodged a fast attack from one of the curses you were supposed to exorcize, and Geto just so happened to cover you and do the job before any serious damage could be done.

You do admit to be shaken from it, knowing that you would have been totally busted if it weren’t for Geto, but your heart’s quick racing didn’t come from that at all.

It came from the way he spoke to you after that encounter. You never realized how soft his voice was.

It was hypnotizingly sweet. From the way he whispered in your ear, wishing you luck as you entered the abandoned building, to the way he held your hand as he spoke words of comfort, you were sure he could control you with his voice alone.

But right now, you decide to be more level-headed. He was fussing over nothing, after all. Or rather, he was fussing over a quickening pulse that he had no idea was his fault.

You shake your head. “No worries, I’m fine, Geto.” You smile at him. “Thanks for covering for me. I’d be busted without you.”

He smiles back, stands straighter, and suddenly you aren’t so level headed anymore.

“It’s no problem.” He replies, placing a hand on your head to gently ruffle your hair.

As the two of you walk out the abandoned building with the burden of the mission off of your shoulders, you fail to prepare yourself for his voice that just so happened to sound even sweeter when he asked you to call him ‘Suguru’.

–

Fuck Suguru Geto for having the most careful hands.

You sit in front of your vanity with Suguru behind you, gently brushing your hair.

The early rays of sunlight rest on the both of you as you sit in comfortable silence. He snuck into your dorm

to sleep over the night before, and he’s here with you as you get ready for the day.

“You’re really sure about this?” He asks as he gathers some of your hair to twist in his hands.

You smile. “Of course! We’d be matching in a way, Sugu. It would be cute!”

He chuckles. “I suppose I see the vision.”

You had asked him to tie your hair in a half-up half-down bun, to match with his man bun. You liked styling

your hair whenever you had the chance, and Suguru had ended up loving it when you let him do it for you.

It was peaceful, and extremely domestic. You’d give anything to always have moments like these with Suguru. One day, you’d hope to have him style your hair in a home the both of you share.

You can’t help but close your eyes as you feel his hands brush through and work their way around your hair.

Suguru has always made sure to make your hair look flawless. He also ensures that he never hurts you by accidentally tugging on your hair or getting it caught on the accessories he uses on it.

When he was done, he gently rubs your shoulders as you make eye-contact in the vanity mirror.

You turn around to place a gentle kiss on his lips as a sign of thanks. He smiles into it and pulls you closer, a hand on your cheek, and the other around your waist. His touch remains gentle, as if his fingers themselves press kisses to your body.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Fuck Suguru Geto for having such pretty, sparkly eyes.

You feel the bed shift as Suguru gets up, trying not to wake you.

You immediately reach out for him in your sleepy state, squinting in the dark.

He sits back down to lay you back down slowly, a hand running through your sleep-tousled hair.

“Sugu..?”

“Just want to take a smoke break, baby. Go back to sleep, ‘kay?” He says softly, caressing your cheek.

The moonlight that managed to pass by the curtains shone on him as you looked up.

He looked beautiful. Unreal, even.

Your eyes move to look at his own, and they shine. His eyes shine like twinkling stars.

You catch a glimpse of him wiping at them before you close your eyes. You assume his eyes are just as drowsy as yours, and that he’d probably teared up after a yawn.

You’re too sleepy to argue, so you let him go.

“Just be back here, Sugu.” You yawn. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He says, voice cracking.

The sheets rustle as you pull the covers over you, and you fail to hear Suguru sniffle as he gets up and leaves.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You wake up alone.

You do not see a trace of Suguru the entire afternoon, either.

Instead, you see Satoru with his back to you, fist clenched and bloody. You spot your teacher looking deeply agitated in front of him. His gaze then moved from Satoru to you, and somehow, he looked even more distraught.

From then, you learn about Suguru’s crimes.

You don’t know how to react. You first think of cursing him, which you do.

Fuck Suguru Geto for…

Not telling you sooner? No, you should have known. You should have done something. Anything.

Fuck Suguru Geto for treading a path I can't follow.

That could be it. But you crumble before you could think of anything else.

[djs-sideblog-for-pog-trains]

@putuponpercy's (and previously, @togetherness23's poll) post on the matter of James and "would you still love me if i was a worm"ing has been rattling around in my brain for a few days.

so i wrote 1.7k words about it. It was supposed to be silly but got a little sad/tender at the end. (heavily drawing on my hc that James suffers insomnia and sometimes its bc of night terrors)

--- --- ---

It starts far too late at night – or really, too early in the morning. Thomas is roused from his sleep at a whispering of his name. Not a subtle whispering, though, not one that actually respects the fact that he was asleep, but a stage whisper, fully intending to wake him up.

“Thomas.”

James and his bloody insomnia, Thomas grumbles, blinking blearily awake, squinting in the gloom of the shed at his fellow engine – a dark red shape just on the edge of his vision.

“Thomas, are you asleep?”

“I’d love to be,” he replies, yawning. “What time is it?”

“Never mind that,” James says, and his voice is hushed, but not really hushed enough, and Thomas winces at how his sharper consonants cut through the quiet. “I have an important question.”

“Have you slept yet?”

“Sure,” says James, and he sounds like the answer to that question is barely. “Look, Thomas, would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Thomas blinks once, twice, before he squints harder in James’ direction, trying to see the engine’s expression. If James is fucking with him right now, he doesn’t appreciate it.

“Did you really wake me up at…” Thomas looks up now, there’s a clock hanging inside the sheds for moments like this, “god, 3am, to ask me that? James.”

“Thomas,” James says back, and he matches Thomas’ flat tone, but there’s a hint of something alarmingly sincere simmering under it that Thomas would really love not to think about at 3 in the bloody morning. “I’m serious!”

“No,” Thomas says. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh,” James says, and – Thomas purses his lips as his eyes have adjusted enough to see James’s face in the moonlight that cuts through the high windows of Tidmouth Sheds – the idiot actually looks relieved. “I thought you were saying you wouldn’t love me.”

“James, are you-?” Thomas tries to keep his voice from raising, but he can’t help it. His indignation ends up waking Percy beside him, who must be well-attuned to the sound over all these years. “You’re an idiot.”

“What’s he done now?” Percy asks, still half asleep.

“He’s woken me up to ask me a stupid question,” Thomas says. “And now you!”

“What’s the question?” Percy stops to yawn too, but he seems very unwilling to open his eyes properly so he can hopefully drop right back off to sleep.

“Would,” James cuts in, a little louder so Percy can hear clearly, though Thomas reckons he’s just outright trying to wake the whole sheds now, “you still love me if I was a worm, Percy?”

Thomas watches Percy’s expression now – mostly because it makes him snort. Percy blinks a couple of times as well, comprehending, before he glances at Thomas, deeply confused.

“What?” he asks, and he looks more awake now. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer it!” James says. “Would you?”

Percy scrunches up his face. “I mean,” he says “I don’t really like worms. And they’re so small, I’d lose you, it wouldn’t be fair.”

“So… no?”

“Can we keep the chatter down?”

“Great,” Thomas mutters. “Now you’ve woken Henry.”

“Henry,” James says. “Maybe you can answer. Would you sti-?”

“James, I’m begging you to go back to sleep,” Thomas says. “We all have trains to pull in the morning.”

And another voice joins in. “That we do,” comes Edward, sleepily. “What’s all this about?”

James shoots Thomas something that could be a glare. It’s hard to make out in the dark. Thomas shoots him one back.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” he asks. “Either of you?”

“…What?”

He’s even stumped Edward.

Henry sighs sleepily. “Worms are valuable little creatures,” he says.

“So is that a yes?”

Henry purses his lips, the closest equivalent to a shrug he can get. “Sure,” he says.

“Sure?” James echoes, and his voice raises again, he sounds a little outraged, and Thomas lets the aggravation write itself across his face. He knew he should have stayed at the Ffarquhar sheds tonight. Toby would never do this to him. “Henry, you can’t just sure me.”

“Ask me when it’s not the middle of the night,” Henry says.

There’s a lull in the conversation, where James falls into one of his stewing silences, and Thomas glances back down the sheds to see Henry yawn and settle back down, Percy’s eyelids flutter back closed.

Then, “Why ask, James?” Edward asks, and Thomas glowers.

“It’s-!” James flushes a little. “It’s… I overheard someone asking it once, and it- it’s a hypothetical. A test.”

And then, what Thomas has been dreading.

“What are you yammering on about?” Gordon asks. He sounds dry and bleary, so freshly woken up he isn’t controlling his volume, and his voice booms in the quiet of the sheds. “A test of what?”

“Of friendship!” James insists.

Gordon blinks at James too, before he frowns.

“What was the test?” he asks.

Thomas sighs loudly.

James sighs too, before he asks his question. “No one else has given a real answer yet. Would you still love me if I was a worm, Gordon?”

Gordon… closes his eyes, holds his breath. He looks like he may be counting to ten.

Thomas can’t help but snort.

Gordon’s silent for a good long moment, and Thomas glances at Percy, who’s now more awake, too, and they can’t help but shoot each other a little grin.

“That implies,” Gordon says slowly, “that I’d love you now.”

Thomas can’t help the guffaw that leaves him, even as James goes quiet for a good long moment.

Then, “…you don’t?”

“Not at 3 in the bloody morning,” Gordon mutters grumpily, pointedly closing his eyes, though he does open one for a moment to glance at James beside him. “I don’t think I like anything at 3 in the morning.”

“He has a point,” Thomas agrees, even as James goes from staring abashed at Gordon to  Thomas, and he actually looks a little wounded. “What?”

James pouts, though his bottom lip does genuinely wobble a little.

Thomas frowns at him. “…Are you alright?”

“Fine,” James says in a voice that’s a little too thick. “Sorry. Go back to sleep.”

“…We would, James,” Edward calls. “Just for the record.”

“Of course you’d say that, of all engines,” James shoots back, and he closes his eyes a little too tight to be causal or gentle enough for sleep, and Edward huffs from his berth at the opposite end of the sheds. “Look, just…”

“We didn’t mean to actually upset you,” Percy says softly. “If it’s that important to you, then yes, James.”

“…Do you want to be a worm?” Gordon asks after a moment, and he’s shooting James a most curious look, which only makes James flush again, and harder. “It’s a most peculiar thing.”

“No!” James says. “The worm is a metaphor.”

“Don’t call me a metaphor,” Percy mumbles, which makes Thomas snort and shoot Percy a dry look.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Fine by me,” Percy replies, and he yawns wide before he closes his eyes. Henry’s already snoring.

Edward sighs also, but Thomas sees him resigning himself to trying to get back to sleep.

Gordon is still looking at James like he’s really thrown a spanner in the works here, and James refuses to meet Gordon’s eyes, though he does shoot Thomas a look.

“Look, it’s a yes-or-no question,” he says. He sounds remarkably fragile. Then, he pouts, and glances at Thomas, then Gordon. ‘If you can’t bring yourself to admit how you love me, then that’s fine too.”

Thomas can’t help his laughter. Gordon snorts too, shooting Thomas a dry look of his own, before closing his eyes.

“That’s enough nonsense for one night, little James,” he says. “Some of us have important work to do tomorrow, I imagine yourself included. Do try and actually sleep?”

James’ lip curls a little, but he doesn’t bite back.

In fact, he goes silent until the sounds of even breathing and gentle (and not so gentle) snoring fills the air once more.

And Thomas squints back up at the clock. He has shunting he’s expected to do in just almost 2 hours, now, but…

“Why does it matter, James?” he asks again. He knows James isn’t asleep yet.

“It’s not about the worm,” James says, so very softly. “It’s about the love.”

Thomas blinks twice, before scrunching up his face a little.

“I don’t follow.”

“Would you love me if I was a worm,” James repeats. He hesitates before he continues. “…Would you love me if I was suddenly tiny and… incapable, if I was worthless.”

He then sighs, clearly trying to breeze past what he’s just said, even as Thomas’ eyes widen, and he shoots James a far gentler look.

“Look, it’s silly,” he says. “Just-“

“Yes,” Thomas says softly. “Even if you were suddenly different. Or even useless, I’d still love you. I promise.”

James’ breathing hitches. He sounds remarkably genuine.

Thomas has a thought, and he frowns.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, James.”

James is the one to snort now, and he sounds tired.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I overheard a couple of children say it to each other on the platform a week ago, and it’s rattling around in my smokebox since. Isn’t that stupid?”

“Eh,” says Thomas. “Maybe. Not really. Humans are weird like that anyway.”

That does make James laugh, thankfully.

They fall quiet again, before James pipes up again.

“Thomas?”

“Yes, James?”

“Thanks.”

Thomas eyes James. He does have to admit it: James looks like he needed it.

“Of course,” he says, closing his eyes. “Goodnight, worm. Love you.”

“Lo- Thomas, don’t call me that. Thomas. Thomas.”

Thomas ignores him, pointedly closing his eyes and yawning before settling down, even as James tries to get his attention again, hushed and a little frantic. He only peters out when it’s clear Thomas has stopped responding, and Thomas really has to hold back another laugh as James lets out the most forlorn sigh he’s heard in a long time.

James settles back down to sleep, now, too, but not before one last thing.

“Love you too,” he murmurs. “Goodnight.”

Despite himself, even as sleep drags him back down into its inviting depths again, it makes Thomas smile.

[rapz-rites]

Ma Belle Chérie

Damian Wayne x influencer!book lover!Reader

If someone was to look up a bookworm a picture of you would appear. 3 times you chose your books over Damian. 1 time Damian was your only priority (yes Damian is a priority, but not without a good book in hand)

A/N: Requested by @vivi-iiis-blog

The title is French and it translates to “my beautiful darling”. At first, it was supposed to be “ma belle fille” but if you put it in a translator it might give you my daughter in law…

Word Count: 1.9K

Warning(s): Reader not putting Damian first, kissing, flirting in public

You were a popular influencer. All your followers knew you loved books. They would often say “If Y/N was a Disney princess, she’d be Belle”

1st time

You were extremely into the book you were currently reading. It was a popular romance book you saw on BookTok, so you obviously had to get it and read it.

You were reading your book in Damian’s bed as you waited for Damian to get home from patrol. You hadn’t even noticed Damian coming in and changing out of his uniform. Usually, he would change in the locker room in the BatCave, but whenever you would spend the night he’d change in his bathroom.

Damian entered his room calling your name several times, but no response. He noticed you immersed in your book on his bed, so he decided to continue his nightly routine and then return to you.

You didn’t realize Damian was even back from patrol until you felt an arm around your waist. You looked down from your book to Damian trying to cuddle into you.

“Why don’t you put your book down and cuddle with me Beloved,” Damian said softly as he brought himself closer to you.

“Let me finish this page first,” you replied to his offer. Damian hummed in response knowing it was going to take more than one page.

After several pleas and several ‘one more page’s, Damian gave up. When you were done you would cuddle with him, awake or not.

“Ok, I’m done. I’m ready to-” you stopped at the site of your boyfriend sleeping peacefully. You smiled at him softly. Putting your book on the nightstand, you cuddle back into Damian as you drift to sleep.

2nd time

You and Jason connect over your interests in books. Often when you would come over and Damian wasn’t there you and Jason would have discussions based on books you’ve both read.

Sometimes you two would pick a book and after about 2 weeks you two would meet up again and talk about it. Sometimes you two would read a book and watch the show/movie based on it.

“Elena and Katherine are blonde in the books though,” Jason started. He was pacing back and forth, running his hand through his hair.

“I know that Jason. I read the book too. But let’s be honest Katherine is better as a brunette than a blonde. It fits her personality in the show way more.”

Neither of you realized that Damian was leaning against the doorway until you turned around in frustration at Jason’s stubbornness. You smiled at him, but Jason spoke before you could greet him.

“You’re right,” he stated. You turned to look at him

“Of course she’s right,” Damian said, drawing attention to himself. “Now if you’re both done I’d like to spend time with my girlfriend.”

You smiled sweetly at him. You loved it when he called you his girl or girlfriend to other people. You didn’t know why but it always brought butterflies to your stomach.

“I think it’s Nina Dobrev,” Jason continued, completely ignoring Damian’s request.

“After this, I promise,” you whispered as you kissed Damian on his cheek. Even though he didn’t show it, he couldn’t believe it. You were choosing to talk to Jason over spending time with him.

“It has to be,” Jason whispered to himself, still pacing back and forth.

“I would have liked to see angel Elena though.”

“ME TOO!”

3rd time

You didn’t go live all that often but when you did, your fans went crazy. So crazy, sometimes after the time was up, you started a new live immediately after. This time was no different. People were checking in 100 at a time. After 5 minutes there were about 11.7k watching.

“Oh my gosh. I haven’t been on live in a fat minute. But guys you have to understand I started reading this series and I haven’t been able to put it down,” you say walking around your kitchen. You walked away to get your supplies for baking. Once you returned you saw tons of comments coming through.

“Where’s Marshmallow?” You whispered as you read the comments.

“YOU KNOW WHAT” you started to yell, waving the spatula in your hand around. You had this serious demeanor to you. “That dog is SO FAKE. I took her with me when I went to see Damian yesterday, and when it was time to go she didn’t want to leave and acted like she didn’t know me. LIKE I'M YOUR MOM”

“I am your mother, you listen to me,” Stephanie started to sing in the background. You laughed at her and your viewers found it funny too.

“Curly fries or waffle fries?” Steph asked, reading a comment someone sent. “Waffles of course. They’re just so much better”

You continued talking to your fans and replying to their comments. Eventually, you ended up playing ‘this or that’ with them. Stephanie read the comments so you could answer as you continued to bake. Some were a simple choice and others had you stumped.

“OMG here’s a good one,” Steph started. “Read the twisted series again for the first time or marry Damian”

You let out a gasp as you froze in place. You place the bowl of icing down on the counter and put your hands to your face.

“Oh my gosh. You guys can’t ask me things like that. ” Now you were pacing back and forth. “I’m about to say something you guys can NEVER repeat. Not even to your pastor in confessionals.”

Once you said that people were going crazy in the comments.

Y/nsbooks: oh this is gonna be good

GingerJT: I can’t wait to hear what he’s gonna say

Emswrld: I think we all should already know her answer 😭😭

“I love Damian, I really do but I’m gonna have to pick the Twisted Series. YOU GUYS BETTER NOT TELL HIM.”

Well, you didn’t have to worry about someone telling Damian. Especially if he was watching your live the entire time off of Jason’s secret Instagram, GingerJT.

Damian 1st

You wanted everything to be perfect for Damian’s birthday. Every year, since living in Gotham, he’s had a birthday gala. This year you wanted to plan a nice intimate surprise party for him the night before.

The week of the surprise party you were extremely busy making sure everything was perfect. You invited everyone in advance(minus Bart or else he would spoil it, so you told him the day of), booked the venue, ordered decorations, and got him a gift you thought he would love.

That same week Damian thought something was wrong and you were sick. He didn’t see you with a single book once. He even took a peek into your bag and saw not one book, you usually have at least 2.

“Are you feeling ok Beloved?” Damian asked, touching your face. He was checking if you had a fever.

“I’m fine,” you chuckle, removing his hands from your face. You kiss his cheek before you get ready to leave. “I have to go to my appointment. I’ll text you later.”

Damian had a feeling something was up but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

It was currently the day before Damian’s birthday. You had asked him to hang out, and of course, he couldn’t say no. He would never say no to spending time with you. You even managed to convince him to spend the night so you guys could head to the gala together. Little did he know he was falling into a trap. A trap called a surprise party.

You took Damian out for most of the day, doing the majority of his favorite things. You need to give everyone enough time to set the place up. If you and Damian ran into someone, that would mess things up.

The town you took Damian to was about an hour away. There was this animal reserve you thought Damian would love. You learned after your 3rd date that he hated zoos. Though he loved animals, he absolutely hated zoos. He thought them to be prisons for the animals.

Afterward, you two went out and did other things that Damian enjoyed. Now, you both were sitting in the car in a comfortable silence. Damian was following the GPS to his final “surprise”. You secretly messaged everyone to check to make sure everything was in place. Everything was and they were just waiting for you guys to arrive. It took less than an hour to arrive.

Once Damian stopped the car you hopped out to take the lead. Leading Damian into the building, it was dark. Neither of you could see.

“Beloved it’s dark. You should turn on the lights.”

“Right,” you said as you reached for the light switch. Once you flicked the lights everyone jumped out and yelled SURPRISE. You looked over to see your boyfriend smiling as people crowded around him wishing him happy birthday.

You watched happily as Damian interacted with everyone. His siblings and other hero’s his age were here. Even his friends from GA. Damian would never admit it because “they’re just the most tolerable people in his life”.

The party ended around 12 and you and Damian arrived at your place around 12:30. After getting ready for bed, you and Damian got comfortable and cuddled in your room.

“OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE I ALMOST FORGOT,” you yelled hopping out of Damian’s embrace. He was confused as you hurried out of the room and returned not even a minute later. Now there was a box in your hand, wrapped in a dark green paper with a black bow on top. You got back into bed and handed the box to him.

“I told you you didn’t have to get me anything Beloved”

“I know but I wanted to,” you responded, ushering him to open the gift. You watched excitedly as he gently opened the gift. After opening the box, Damian picked up the book that was in it. It looked like any other classical literature, minus the two swords embedded on the front cover. Damian turned the box over to look at the spine. And there it was, his name, in Arabic.

Damian turned to look at you. All you did was nod at the book signaling him to open it. After silently reading a few pages, he stopped and hugged you, tackling you on the bed and peppering your face with kisses.

“So you like it?”

“You wrote me a book. Of course I love it!” He said and he continued kissing your face. You laughed. You held Damian’s face in your hands before giving him a kiss on the lips.

~

Damian held your hand as you stepped out of the black vehicle. A gorgeous dress clung to your body. Emerald matching the accents in Damian’s suit.

“Is it too late to go back? We can watch whatever movie you pick” you whispered as you and Damian walked down the red carpet. You both stopped for a picture. Instinctively, you both smile and Damian puts a hand on your waist.

“You say that every time. You need to come up with something more convincing” Damian smirks at you. You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, a photographer interrupts, “Damian, are you enjoying your birthday this year?”

“How can I not? Have the most amazing girlfriend.”

“Not as amazing as what’s underneath this dress,” you whisper into Damian's ear. He visibly goes red and you just smile at the photographers unfazed at what you just said.

“We’re leaving after an hour” Damian whispers back into your ear after processing what you just said. And with that he takes your hand, walking you inside the building. Smiling ear to ear, you bid the photographers goodbye.

WOOO! What was something alright. In so sorry for not posting in months but school comes first 😭 But I hope you guys enjoy this as I’m now going to try to write more often and in working on requests now.

[the-bi-space-ace]

Not Yet, Anyway

Summary: Echo wakes in a panic. Thankfully someone is there to soothe his racing thoughts.

Warnings: discussion of panic, brief mention of blood.

Based off of this post I really couldn’t help but write something for it.

@saturn-sends-hugs this is a gift for you, friend <3

Echo woke with a gasp, a gut punch, almost a garble. For a second he thought blood was in his throat, skin burning as flame licked him, a scream right on the edge of his tongue. Then the rumbling of a ship’s engine reminded him of where he was. The Marauder. Clone Force 99. Safe. But why didn’t he feel like it? With a grunt Echo pulled himself up, hammock swinging precariously while his lungs tried to pump air through him. The dreams wouldn’t leave him be no matter how hard he tried. Days of waking up near panic left him fatigued, wanting for sleep but rarely letting it take him. Echo swung his legs out of the hammock and dropped onto the floor. He grabbing the side of one of the bunks for balance and tried to steady his heartbeat. Everyone else should be asleep - Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair all dozing peacefully - but Echo needed something. What that something was he wasn’t sure but he had to get out of that hammock. He couldn’t go to the cockpit, not while Tech was on watch. Maybe he could switch with him, take over the night watch so he could stay awake. Anything to keep those images away. Anything to make the night pass by without his heart beating out of his chest.

“Gonna keep standing there or are you going to sit down before you topple over?” Without meaning to Echo flinched. Crosshair was awake - apparently - and was staring at him passively. He was sitting on a lower bunk, back against the wall with some sort of flimsi pad in his lap, a pencil held between his fingers. How did Echo not notice him?

Echo shook his head. “No, I’m-” He took a second to swallow the rough feeling in his throat but nearly choked on it. Crosshair’s eyes flickered away from him and to the book in his hand.

”Sit down before you break something. I won’t be peeling you off the floor when you pass out.” Crosshair said, voice low. Echo bristled at the insinuation but couldn’t quite argue. His head was starting to feel light and that tight ball of panic hadn’t lessened in his chest. After a few gulps of air Echo moved until he could sit on the edge of the bottom bunk, scooting back until he was mimicking Crosshair’s position, head tilted back against the wall.

Silence spread between them and Echo’s mind spun. Sitting was a bad idea. Nothing to distract him meant more racing thoughts and those thoughts meant more constriction in his lungs, and if he couldn’t breathe then what was he supposed to-

“Look,” Crosshair urged with a tap of his pencil on the page. Another instruction didn’t come, instead he waited while Echo blinked the stinging emotion out of his eyes and tilted his head until he could see what was being pointed out to him. On the page was the beginning stages of what looked like their ship. There were a few spots where it was clear Crosshair had to erase and redraw but the lines were strong and confident, details already littering the page. The entire drawing was about half way done but he wasn’t sure if Crosshair liked to do more than sketch. Crosshair used his pencil to trace along lines he’d already created, pointing out what he wanted. “It’s more cramped than I’d like it to be but I finally got the whole ship to fit on one page. See, there’s the window to the cockpit and the partial view of the gunner’s mount.” He put the lead to paper again and started adding some details to the wings. A few lines were added to detail the little dent on the wing facing them. Echo took in a deep breath in time with the pencil and let it out, feeling the ache in his gut lessen.

Echo pointed to the page with his scomp. “It looks good. Don’t forget to add the paint splatter from Wrecker’s mishap.” His voice came out scratchy, as if sandpaper was wrapped around his throat, but Crosshair paid it no mind. He hummed, adding the outline for the splatter, then moving on to shade in some of the underside. Echo watched and his fear drifted by. There was something hypnotizing about that pencil, the way it sounded as it scratched along the paper. The panic gave way to frustration and Echo had to wrap his arms around himself to attempt to soothe it away. He’d inserted himself without thinking enough about it and now he was intruding, already making suggestions, why couldn’t he just-

Crosshair let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Your brain runs as much as your mouth, huh?” He asked. Rude. Echo rolled his eyes, looking away.

“I’m sorry. It was just…” The dreams. He should go back to bed. No, not back to bed. Going back to bed would be a bad idea. He should… he should leave Crosshair alone at least, do something else.

”No need to spill your guts.” Crosshair stretched, shifting until his leg was resting firmly against Echo’s. “Not yet, anyway.” Echo swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and tried to focus on the constant pressure instead. Crosshair went back to drawing confident lines on the page, tipping the book towards Echo to ask about how it looked every so often. It was kind of odd, sitting in the dim light watching Crosshair draw a damn good sketch of their ship, but that feeling was less discomfort and more adjustment. He didn’t close his eyes again, not that night, but he considered it when fatigue yanked at his bones once more. He preferred to be up anyway, watching, whispering suggestions, anything to keep his thoughts from spiraling back to the darkness that lined them.

Crosshair did a good job of that.

[thehollowwriter]

A Different Kind of Love

Summary: Morrigan monologues about Silas for 849 words. That's it. That's the fic. Old fish man yaoi for you guys.

Warnings: Mentions of death and murder, violence, blood,

(Pls reblog and leave a comment❤️)

Have you ever been in love? What did it feel like? Did it make you feel light and airy? Anxious and flustered? Confused? Excited? 

I’m in love. So horribly, irrevocably in love. It is not a tender, fluffy feeling, though. No, it was burning hot, a raging fire that never went out. Sea Witch, it makes me light headed.  

Do my passions cross into obsession? Maybe. I don’t really care. Silas is my everything. My perfect, beautiful, dangerous Silas. 

“Darling, you’re perfect.” I would whisper, and it just wasn’t enough.  

“I love you” never encapsulated his feelings like it should. “I want you. I need you. I crave you.” The love ballads I would sing, they weren’t good enough. I could love Silas, praise him, worship him, but none of it came close to describing my burning love and desire for my Silas. 

The delight and warmth that fills my veins whenever I see Silas and feel his touch was undeniable. The adoration and adrenaline I feel when Silas wrestles me to the floor during our games is indescribable. 

My affections re neither understood nor shared. Silas is delightfully dangerous, a violent Abyssal merfolk who knew how to survive and left no friends when doing so.  

Most people deemed him a cannibalistic monster or a loose cannon, but I love those deadly, unsavoury parts of Silas with all my heart and soul. Those claws could rip my face off, those teeth could tear me wide open, and I’d thank him. 

“Are you insane?” I’ve been asked more than once by more than one person. I wear my courting gift from Silas with pride and that prompts most comments at me, paired with expressions of both concern and disgust. “Don’t you realize that if he could kill an orca or... or an orca merfolk, he can kill you easily? Don’t you worry he’ll kill you once he loses interest? When he gets bored of you?” 

Maybe I am insane. I don’t really care, though. I know Silas won’t hurt me, at least not in the way others expect him to. 

It hurts when we fight, when we claw and bite at each other, but it’s fun. It’s delightful. We never actually try to kill each other, nor will we ever. It’s the thrill of it all, the familiarity, and the desire, it all combines to form an adrenaline-spiking moment of wonderfully painful bliss. 

The feeling of Silas’ teeth at my neck is a different kind of high, it gives me a sense of elation that tempts me to beg him to just bite down. 

Nobody else fills me with such warmth and love. Nobody else makes me feel such delightful ecstasy. There is only Silas. My wonderful, perfect Silas. 

I suppose one could assume my raging; violent affections would scare him off. But I know Silas. He meets me halfway. In fact, you could say he’s worse than me. 

Silas is not loud or talkative or expressive. Love songs, praise, declarations of his feelings, those sorts of things were not how he showed love. 

Silas’ love seeps through when he grips me tight enough to draw blood, paranoid and possessive. Whenever we sleep or swim of fight together, he holds me like a lifeline, like he’s afraid I would vanish if he dared let go. 

His love seeped into rough kisses and claws and teeth dragging across my body, scratching, piercing, drawing blood, but never badly wounding. I am worth his time, worth keeping alive and safe. 

His love seeps into how he’s killed for me more than once, snuffing out lives like they were mere candles. He wasn’t gentle or graceful with it either, no. It was violent and graphic, filling the water with blood and the stench of death. 

I should probably be afraid of someone like that. Maybe I was at one point. But now, common sense has long gone, leaving nothing but obsessive desire in its wake. Any sense of fear was quickly replaced with thrills of excitement and the wonderful realization that I was wanted enough to kill for. 

Silas rarely says “I love you” out loud, but he doesn’t need to. The words were in his every action, every gesture of affection, and every effort he made to ensure my survival and safety. 

“I love you,” I whisper, and and Silas will hum softly in response. It’s such a delightful sound, deep and reverberating. It makes my skin tingle every time. 

I want to kiss Silas every time I look at him and those gorgeous, mysterious eyes. Not just his lips, I want to kiss every scar, every tear or hole in his fins, every wrinkle and stretch mark and freckle. I want to love and adore and worship every inch of him. 

Silas is my everything. My husband, my friend, my sun, my moon, and my stars. 

There are not and never will be suitable words to describe how I feel about Silas, those raging emotions that swirl inside me and threaten to burst. But I know Silas understands me and what lies beyond the words. 

That’s enough for me. 

-End 

...........................................

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this lil fic of Morrigan being unhinged lol, I had a lot of fun writing it.

What the fuck my tags disappeared?

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00

@krenenbaker @offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops

@inotonline @1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp

@skrimpyskimpy @casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls

@the-trinket-witch @ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord

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@moonyasnow @skibidibabygirl @paperclvps @v-anrouge

[hannahssimblr]

I’m running again. It is the hottest day of the year, with the sun blazing down on me, but I’m running anyway, because this is what I do. It's become the pattern of my life. I sleep like shit. I get up, I run, I shower, and then I sleep the afternoon away. 

This morning at six, I talked to Alison. She was in the airport, crying in a bathroom stall. 

“It’s so weird that literally nobody knows I’m here,” she said. “The last time I left the country was for our school tour to Rome, can you imagine? That now I’m doing this?”

“You’re going to be okay,” I said, though I didn’t really know it to be true. How could I? Who am I to even say that to her, as if I could ever be sure? As if I am a person capable of making anything okay. I think that all I ever did was fail her, and she is alone and scared today, so I am failing her again. 

“I would have come with you,” I told her, in a voice that sounded weak and pathetic to my own ears. 

“I didn’t think I wanted you to, but now I do,” her sob echoed off the bathroom tiles. “Now that I’m here, I don’t want to be on my own anymore.”

“I can still come,” I said, but it was a lie. It was too late. I suppose that’s always been the nature of our relationship. I’ve acted too late, and reached her when the damage has already been done. 

For the rest of my life, I’ll think of Alison and feel regret. Her face and that feeling, intertwined forever. 

When we hung up, I stared out at the sea for a long time, the gentle pull of the tide, felt the heat of the sun that poured in the window that reminded me I was real and alive, then I put on my shoes and went for a run. 

It’s a day for swimming, not for running. The sea is still and glasslike today, clear turquoise and gently washing over the shore, as seagulls draw lazy circles overhead. I will swim, just not now, not while there are still heavy thoughts in my head. 

It seems I am the only person in town stupid enough to run on a day like this. I know sunbathers are watching me as I go, and I catch snippets of their incredulous remarks. “What is he at?” someone mutters to his friend. “He’ll be dead before he gets to the end of the beach, I’d say.”

I might be. Within minutes, my t-shirt clings to my body and sweat from my hair dribbles into my eyes. It stings. I wipe my brow with my arm, which is salty with sweat and unhelpful, so I commit to partial blindness for the rest of the run, kept on track by the slash of shore to my right. 

The beach is a blur of colour. Towels scatter the sand, and the vague suggestion of parasols jut above the masses of flesh coloured blobs, but the shape of her is unmistakable. She’s coming in my direction with her phone to her ear, ambling along the strip of damp sand the tide washed earlier. I can’t hear what she’s saying. There’s too much noise, but she hangs up abruptly as soon as I reach her. 

“Hi, Evie!” I wipe my brow again and act casual about my atrocious sweat patches. 

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know it was you.”

“Just out for a walk?”

“Yeah, enjoying the sun.”

“Same here. Hot, isn’t it? Sorry, I’m so sweaty.” Perhaps drawing direct attention to it will lessen the awkwardness, but then again, maybe it will make it all worse. What if, somehow, she hadn’t noticed until I pointed it out? 

She smiles sweetly. “I suppose that’s what happens when you go running in a heatwave.”

“I know. There’s no escaping it, though. It’s just been hot all the time lately.” I glance toward the sea. “At least I can swim after it. The water looks so nice.”

“Yeah, it’s lovely. I’ve been getting in three times a day.”

I smirk at her. I should ask her if this is some kind of competition, or if she just likes to brag about all the swims she takes. It would be funny, but now I think I’ve left it too long, and saying it now, after such a long pause, would make it seem like I have thought too much about it. I think I actually have thought too much about it. I look down at my feet, and a bead of sweat darkens the sand in front of me. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t… I didn’t, um, text you after that night we went to the graveyard.”

A smile. “Oh, no, well, I didn’t expect you to, like I wasn’t waiting for a message or anything. It’s fine.”

“I know. I just said that I would when I was free and I didn’t. I’ve been kind of distracted the last couple of weeks.”

“It’s okay, I understand! I get like that sometimes, too.”

“I just have a bad habit of saying I’ll do something and then not doing it, like, I’m a flake. I hope you weren’t waiting to hear from me.”

She tosses her air over her shoulder and laughs breezily. “No way. I didn’t notice. Don’t worry, I honestly do that all the time. Things just get in the way.”

I am desperate to get out of my sweaty clothes. The sea calls to me like a siren. “Well, if you want, we can hang out now. Are you busy today?”

“No, I’m free.”

“Okay, well, do you feel like a swim?”

 She frowns. “Right now?” 

“Why not? Yeah.”

“Oh, well, I don’t have my togs with me at the moment.”

“Me neither. I was going to go in naked.”

She blushes. “Wha- oh, um, really?” 

Bad joke. Maybe I should put more considered practice into shutting up. “No.” I pinch the hem of my polyester shorts. “I’ll just wear these. They kind of double up as running shorts. Look, you don’t have to if you don’t have anything to swim in. I just thought I’d ask. Maybe we can hang out later if you don’t have-”

“No!” She cuts me off in such a frenzy that I blink, surprised. “Just give me a sec. I’ll run up to the mobile and grab my togs, just… just wait here.”

Without giving me a second to respond, she sprints up the beach, sand flying behind her in cartoonish clouds. I watch her go all the way to the end of the beach, where the tiny figure of her scrambles up the side of a steep dune and leaps over a fence, gone from sight within seconds. 

I wait for her by the shore, my body too tired to do anything but sit and pick handfuls of sand from the ground. I could just get into the sea and swim now, but going in without her feels like a betrayal. She might want to do something competitive and race me anyway, and I might like to let her. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[like-a-bantha]

Lost/Loss

Summary: Everything changed after Eriadu. Hunter becomes withdrawn, and you can't help but worry about him. You do what you can to show him you're there for him.

Pairing: Hunter/GN Reader (No Y/N, no descriptions of reader's appearance)

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, mentions of major character death

Word Count: 1.7k

AO3 | Masterlist

One week of radio silence. Our contact was supposed to get back to us five days ago with intel on Hemlock and his captives. Instead, we’ve sat around on Pabu tensely awaiting a holocall that we’re beginning to lose hope in receiving.

Phee was kind enough to offer us room in her home, and free reign of her holotable, to act as a sort of base. It’s been quieter since we were last gathered around this table. The usual boisterous laughter and interrupted rants replaced with worried silence broken every so often by a sea breeze that no longer carries the joyous sound of Omega and Lyana playing just outside. That mission, Hemlock, the Empire, took so much from us; it’s taken an incredible amount of effort from Hunter, Wrecker, and I to not allow these forces working against us to take our hope on top of it all.

Echo and Rex referred us to this contact not long ago, someone who they’d worked closely with during the war, someone they trust. I commed Echo. Hunter advised against it, said it wasn’t worth it, that all we could do now was wait. I snuck out to the Marauder to use the long distance com anyways. Of course, the conversation was brief, and he has as much information as we do. Sit tight. Waiting game. All that.

“How’re they holding up?” His voice low, even with the volume adjusted to its highest setting. He’d mentioned returning to Coruscant last time we spoke, it must be the middle of the night there. We always did have terrible sleeping schedules.

“Not well, but I mean…” I trail off, we both know the reason, we both hold some foolish hope that not saying it will make it less true, “They miss you.”

“But you don’t?” There’s that sass, that glint of normalcy I’ve both craved and feared these past two months.

A laugh escapes me as if on instinct, it sounds foreign, “Nah, thought I’d never shake you. So clingy.”

“You’re one to talk, you do realize it’s 0100 here?”

This, our shared brand of humor and sarcasm, too, feels so distant to me now. Slowly, it comes back to me, “Oh, I’m so sorry, did I wake you up? Were you sleeping?” 

“Like a baby.” His warm chuckle crackles through the com speaker, and mine through his. The silence that follows is warm, easing his way into broaching the question, “I take it he’s distancing himself again?”

I sigh, a deep sigh only brought about by reality, “I get it, I really do — and, honestly as bad as it sounds, I wish I didn’t because this kriffing hurts — but withdrawing like this, I don’t know why he can’t see it’s only making the feeling worse.”

“Have you told him that?”

“‘Course. He just says something about how we can’t give up and stares at the holotable. I don’t want to give up, I can’t give up, I just hate seeing him like this.” 

Echo hums, but just as he begins to respond, static and unintelligible voices play loudly through the speaker. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go. Good luck.”

I nod, wiping at my misty eyes as I reach for the switch to end the transmission, “Be safe. Talk soon.”

Silence. Mournful, somber silence echoes through the lonely hull of the once lively ship. Everywhere my gaze falls sits a piece of their history, our history; one of Tech’s unfinished projects, a drawing of the ship Omega had called extra credit, Echo’s favorite brand of instant caf. Unable to withstand the weight of these memories, I decide to take my leave and the silence follows me back to the cottage.

I return to a rare sight: an empty house. No Wrecker sitting at the kitchen counter disassembling and reassembling explosives. No Phee asking him to take it outside. No Hunter hovering over the holotable awaiting a call. No com to tell me to hurry back, mustn’t have been an emergency.

I make my way over to the holotable, fingertips gliding across its rounded edge as I approach Hunter’s usual seat. When I pull out the chair, I’m met with a sight that would normally make me laugh. His shredded scarf that he’s grown so attached to, destroyed on our last mission to gather intel, along with his prized bandana that appears to have shrunken in the wash. The best I can muster is a bemused huff, taking the bundle of abused fabric into my arms as I sit. Suddenly, I’m struck with an idea. It could be a very stupid idea, of course, but a very good idea doesn’t always equate to a very smart idea. It’s a perspective thing and seeing as the only perspective available at the moment is my own, I figure I may as well get to it before more perspectives show up.

After careful work, I neatly fold remaining fabric and stash it in my pack with my tools; as the designated mender of the group, I know firsthand there is no such thing as too many fabric patches. Returning to the table, finished product tucked delicately in my vest pocket, approaching voices grow louder and louder.

“I’m telling you, it looks good! Stop fussing, leave it… yeah, like that,” Phee’s voice nears the door, and I’m sure I hear Hunter grumbling about something. The door whooshes open and my eyes widen with surprise. When I meet Phee’s gaze, she seems to silently plead for backup, “You’re back! What do you think?”

She gestures to an unamused Hunter, visibly fighting the urge to fidget with the hat he’s wearing. It doesn’t look bad on him, very few things would, but he doesn’t exactly look comfortable. Unwilling to hold the spotlight any longer, he grabs the floppy brim and removes it from his head, tossing the garment onto the table as he takes the seat next to me. Unable to help myself, I lean forward with a smile and run a hand through his slightly disheveled hair.

“That bad, huh?” Phee sighs, Wrecker following closely behind as she heads for the kitchen.

“I liked it,” The glee still empty from his voice, even at something that would’ve garnered one of his trademark laughs a few months ago.

“Me, too, big guy.” Phee sets a crate of groceries on the countertop. Wrecker’s taken to cooking. Though he’s been much quieter these days, Wrecker seems like himself again when he’s preparing a meal.

Hunter’s gaze is locked on the table, silences between us were never tense like this. When he speaks, he doesn’t look at me. “How’s Echo.”

It isn’t a question, more of a remark, maybe even an I told you so if I really read into it. I answer it like a question anyway, “Good, but no word from the contact.”

He hums. The silence that follows deems the told you so unnecessary.

I reach into my vest pocket. Now’s as good a time as any. “I made you something.”

He hums again, gaze flicking away from the table for half a second in question. Right now, that’s probably the best I’ll get. I place an open palm on the table before him. After a moment's hesitation he rests his hand atop mine, palm up, and I look to his eyes as I delicately drape a band of maroon fabric with thin gold stripes across his fingers.

Hunter’s expression is unreadable, regarding the gift silently. I bite my tongue, attempting to hold in any preemptive apologies in fear that I may have overstepped. My flat expression shifts only when I see his eyes begin to well up, before the first sorry can push past the floodgates he turns to me with the faintest smile. A smile I haven’t seen in too long. His grip tightens around the bandana as he rushes to pull me into a tight hug. Instantly, my arms wrap around him, tears forming in my own eyes. “I love it,” his voice low, he places a kiss on my temple, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do more.” My voice comes out a whisper, all of the words I hold back seem louder. “We’re going to get them back, Hunter.”

“Not without a fight.” He says grimly, holding me tighter, as if he’ll lose me the second he lets go.

“I know,” I pull back to look into his eyes, my hand coming up to cup his tattooed cheek, “but we fight as a team. We can’t keep bottling all of this up, we need to take care of each other, ourselves.”

Hunter rests his forehead against mine as he sighs, “You’re right.”

“I know. How’re you feeling?” He shuts his eyes as my thumb gently ghosts back and forth over his cheekbone.

He thinks for a moment before releasing me, opening his palm to look at the bandana in his hand. “Lost,” he turns the garment over, examining the back, “Loss. I couldn’t protect them. You, Wrecker, Phee, you’re all I’ve got now and I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you either.”

“Tech protected us. Omega, too. I think it’s cruel to put that duty solely on yourself, Hunter. It’s an impossible weight to carry on your own,” A tear falls from my eye, quickly sliding down my cheek before landing on my pant leg, “please, let me carry some.”

“Giving it away doesn’t sound easy, either.” His own tears threaten to spill over, I hope I never get used to the subtle, somber shake in his voice, “But I’d like to try.”

When he looks up with a sad, weary smile, I can’t help but lean forward and place a small kiss to his lips. I begin to withdraw, but Hunter’s palm cups my cheek and pulls me back in for a longer, gentler and tearful kiss. This time, the silence that follows is peaceful as he rests his forehead against mine once more.

His loose hair falls around his face and I accidentally pull a few strands into my mouth as I inhale. He chuckles a bit as I pull away, a sound I’ve missed dearly. I can’t help but let out a small laugh of my own, reaching up to once again run a hand through his curls, “It’s gotten so long.”

Hunter smiles, turning the bandana over once more before presenting it to me, “Do the honors?”

With a smile and a nod, I take the cloth from his grasp, delicately wrapping the fabric around his head and tying a single knot.

“It’s perfect,” He places a soft kiss to my knuckles, taking my hand in his, “thank you.”

The holotable chirps. Incoming transmission.

A/N: Someone pointed out Hunter's hair looks longer, plus the new bandana, I just had to get this out of my system. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think, comments mean the world to me! <3

[stellar-collective]

Not Worried

a quick IEYTD Ollix fic

the fic behind this drawing i made :P my first time sharing my writing, hope you guys like it!

when Reginald shows up to work sick, Ollie volunteers to cover Agent Phoenix’s next mission. Ollie knows it’ll be dangerous, but he’s not worried. 

  Content Warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, knives, needles, stitches

  “Morning, Mr. Crane!” Ollie opened the door to the office, carefully balancing two mugs brimming with coffee. “I brought your—“ he cut himself off as he saw Mr. Crane. “Wow, you look awful!”

  Reginald Crane, the lead support agent and his superior at the Agency, was normally bright-eyed and ready for action, but today he looked exhausted. His eyes were puffy and his face was unusually pale. 

  “Thank you for noticing, Ollie.” Mr. Crane said wryly. His voice was thick and scratchy. 

  “You sound awful, too!” Ollie set both mugs on the desk, concerned. “Are you sick?”

  “That’s one way to put it. I’m afraid that I have too much to do today to call out, though.”

  “Nonsense; you’re no help to anyone like this. What’ve you got? I can fill in for you!”

  “Ah, well—“ Mr. Crane rubbed the back of his neck. “We have a mission for Agent Phoenix scheduled today. We located a large Zoraxis facility that we believe has some valuable equipment inside. They were supposed to go in, steal what they could, and burn what they couldn’t. I was going to run point for them.”

  “A mission with Phoenix?” Ollie’s eyes lit up. “I’d be happy to take that off your hands for ya!”

  “Really?” Mr. Crane’s eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? It’s going to be dangerous. Running point for Agent Phoenix is no game. They may need direct back-up. Are you… certain you could handle that?”

  “I managed to survive Zoraxis onboarding; a mission with Phoenix will be a snap! I’m not worried. Plus, we get on pretty well, if you’re concerned about that. Go home and sleep. I’ll take care of it!”

  With an obvious effort, Mr. Crane stood up and pulled open one of his drawers. He withdrew a manila envelope and handed it to Ollie. “Here’s the briefing, then. I sent the blueprints to Agent Phoenix yesterday morning, so they should have the place memorized by now. You’ve worked with them before, so I don’t need to give you the rundown. Just remember that they don’t talk on missions, and you’ll be fine.”

  “You’ve got it, sir!” Ollie gave him a casual salute and tucked the envelope under his arm. 

  “Thank you, Ollie. I’ll owe you one.” Mr. Crane patted him on the shoulder and shuffled out, coughing. 

  Ollie picked up both mugs of still-hot coffee and headed down the stairs to Phoenix’s office. If they had a mission tonight, they should be there. 

  He awkwardly knocked on the door, trying not to drop anything. With a hum, the doorknob turned and opened for him. 

  Phoenix had their feet kicked up on their cluttered desk and a cigar between their teeth, their hand still raised from using their TK to open the door. When their eyes landed on him, they sat up and grinned. 

  “If it isn’t my favorite support agent!” they greeted, tossing their cigar into the ashtray on their desk. “I was expecting my favorite lead support agent, but this is just as good! Is one of those for me?”

  Ollie held out one of the mugs, and Phoenix TK’d it across the room and took a sip. Their brow furrowed. 

  “This is how Reginald takes his coffee. Was this his? Oh no, is he actually sick? Aw, by the time we can get tonight’s mission back on track, Zor will probably have cleared out the whole operation.” They blew out a sad sigh, ruffling their bangs. “Shame. I was really looking forward to trashing some Zoraxis junk.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, Phoenix!” Ollie opened the envelope and pulled out the roll of film inside. “I’ll be taking over for Mr. Crane, so the mission is still a go!”

  “Hah! Ollie saves the day again!” Phoenix put their feet back on the floor and scooted over so Ollie could slot the disc into the projector on their desk.

  It wasn’t complicated; just a get-in, get-out sort of mission. If all went according to plan, Zoraxis wouldn’t even know that they’d been there until after the fact. ‘Course, things rarely went according to plan, but both he and Phoenix were pretty good at thinking on their feet. He wasn’t worried. 

***

  “There it is.” Ollie said, putting the van into park and pointing through the windshield at the seemingly abandoned warehouse before them. “You ready?”

  “Always!” Phoenix jumped out of the door and landed soundlessly on the grass. 

  Ollie scooped up the small bag of break-in supplies he had been given and hopped out too.  He tapped his earpiece. “Test, test? This is Ollie, can you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear,” Phoenix said, rounding the front of the van. 

  “Loud and clear.” One of the guys back at headquarters was also on the line, just in case additional back-up or an evac team was necessary. They would stay quiet unless things went very wrong. 

  “After you!” Ollie said, sweeping a hand towards the factory. 

  “How kind!”

  Phoenix led the way through the long grass. There shouldn’t be any cameras or guards this side of the building, but Phoenix stayed alert as a rabbit, swiveling their head back and forth and flexing their fingers in case their TK was needed. 

  They reached the planned entrance, a window, without incident. There was a padlock on it, but Ollie pulled a boltcutter from his bag and with one heavy snip, Phoenix was able to slide it open and slip through. 

  “Should I come in or stay out here?” Ollie asked, putting his hands on the windowsill. “I can give you the bag.”

  “I don’t think you’ll be much help out there. You’d better come with me. Just follow my lead, and we’ll be okay.”

  Phoenix helped Ollie through the window and slid it back closed, then tapped their earpiece. “We’re inside. Going quiet.”

  They wouldn’t talk again until the mission was over. 

  Phoenix stole over to the door of the small, empty room and listened intently for a moment before opening it a crack, then fully, motioning Ollie to follow. 

  The warehouse certainly felt abandoned. It was dark and quiet in there, the only light coming in through the intermittent windows and the occasional flickering, half-powered fluorescent light. 

  It was a labyrinth, but Phoenix’s steps were sure as they went deeper and deeper in. 

  Phoenix suddenly froze, Ollie nearly bumping into them. A moment later, he heard distant talking and footsteps.

  The two of them waited, silent, until it was certain that the noise wasn’t headed their direction and Phoenix continued forward. 

  They heard a couple more vague voices and indications of life, but Phoenix was careful to give them ample distance. 

  At length, the door that they were looking for came into view. It looked like every other door, except it had the Zoraxis logo spray painted in red on the front. 

  “Not very subtle, are they?” Ollie commented. 

  Phoenix shook their head with a smile. They pointed at him, then at the ground. 

  “Good idea. You go in, I’ll stay out here and keep watch. I’ll knock if I hear anything!”

  Phoenix tugged at the door, but it was locked. They stooped, looking at it closely, then beckoned Ollie closer. 

  “What do you need?” He said, reaching for the bag, but they just grabbed his hand and slapped it on the doorknob. He felt his thumb slide into a groove, and a nearly invisible light lit up green. 

  Phoenix nodded a thanks and opened the door. 

  “Fingerprint recognition? I can’t believe I’m still in their system as an employee!” Ollie said. “I would’ve figured I got taken off when they tried to kill me! Lucky they didn’t, eh? You would’ve found a way in regardless, I know. Wait, I have something for you.”

  He rummaged around in the bag, and then pulled out an Agency lighter and tossed it to Phoenix. They grinned and disappeared into the room, closing the door behind them. 

  Ollie waited patiently, keeping one ear on the warehouse and one on the room behind him. The halls outside remained as dark and silent as ever, but he could hear activity within, muffled by the thick walls. 

  In rapid succession, he heard clanking, thumping, an automated voice complaining, and what sounded like metal crashing against metal. 

  The door opened a crack and a single screw came floating through. Ollie almost laughed as he pulled a screwdriver out of his bag and tossed it through before shutting the door again. 

  More clanking, then the distinct sound of roaring flames. 

  A moment later, Phoenix emerged, smelling like smoke and looking smug. They held up several trinkets; a data disc, something techy and vaguely cylindrical, and something small and mechanical inside of a glass tube. 

  “Whoa, nice work! Want me to take them?”

  Phoenix held them out, and he tucked them into his pockets, not trusting the bag with them. 

  “Alright, you know the way out, then?”

  Phoenix gave him a decisive nod and began strolling down the hallway, Ollie easily keeping up. 

  Before they got too far, though, alarms abruptly started blaring. All the lights turned on full blast, flooding the corridor with red light. Ollie took a breath, noting the distinct taste at the back of his throat and the more high-pitched, whining lilt to the noise. Oh, good. They hadn’t tripped anything. 

  They were just smoke alarms. 

Still alarms, though!

  “Well, ah, that’s not what I’d call ideal.” Ollie muttered. 

  Phoenix bolted down the hallway, tugging off their gloves and shoving them into their back pocket. They slowed while Ollie caught up, holding out their hand expectantly. 

  “What? Ah, right.” Trying to look in the bag and not trip at the same time, Ollie snatched out a roll of fabric and pressed it into Phoenix’s palm. “You think we’re going to have to fight our way out?”

  Phoenix shrugged, rapidly wrapping their left hand, weaving the strip of fabric in between each of their fingers with astonishing speed, binding up their knuckles in preparation for a fight. Better to be ready. 

  “Well, at least it sounded like you had a fun time!” Ollie said, trying to find the second roll amongst the other objects in the bag. “It must be satisfying, dismantling Zor tech like… that…”

  Ollie trailed off as they rounded the corner and made direct eye contact with two Zoraxis operatives who were casually walking down the hall towards the source of the noise. One was thin and had long eyelashes, and the other was short, stocky, and had spiky hair. Both of them stared at Ollie and Phoenix blankly, clearly not registering who they were. 

  The four of them stood there in silence for a long, deeply uncomfortable moment. 

  One of the operatives, the one with spiky hair, narrowed their eyes at Phoenix. 

  “Hang on. You look familiar. I’m guessing you ain’t here to turn off the alarms?”

  “Evac and medical are both on the way.” The support agent back in headquarters impassively informed Ollie through his earpiece. “But you’re going to have to get out of the building for them to reach you. Good luck.”

  A third operative rounded the corner, looking sleepy and rubbing their eyes. 

  “Will you two hurry up? Those blasted smoke alarms are giving me a headache.” They stopped, their eyes sweeping across the scene, then they shrieked. “HOLY— It’s the Phoenix! Don’t just stand there, get ‘em!”

  Phoenix sighed and dropped the end of the wrap, shifting into a fighting stance as the three operatives sprang into action. Phoenix leapt in front of Ollie, fists up, blocking Spiky Hair’s first attack and returning one of their own. 

  Ollie had never been much of a fighter, but he was fast on his feet. He nimbly dodged as Sleepy Eyes charged in, tripping them on their way past.

  There was a sharp crack! and Phoenix went stumbling back into him, their nose bleeding. Recovering themselves with a shake of their head, they dove back into the fray, shoving Eyelashes against the wall and bringing their knee into their stomach, sending them crumpling to the ground. 

  Sleepy Eyes was back on their feet, but Spiky Hair tackled Ollie before he could do anything about it. 

  He fell to the floor with a painful thud, Spiky Hair on top of him. They yanked at his bag, and, knowing there was nothing valuable in it, he let them take it and toss it away. 

  They wound up for a punch, and Ollie twisted out of the way just enough that it only grazed his cheek. Phoenix ran over and pulled Spiky Hair off him, spinning them around for a hammer blow to the jaw that dropped them to the floor alongside Eyelashes and Sleepy Eyes. 

  Phoenix cracked their bloody knuckles and helped Ollie to their feet. The wrap around their hand was half unraveled, but it had gotten the job done. 

  “Thanks. You took care of those guys, huh?” Ollie walked over and picked his bag back up. Might as well not waste the equipment. He turned back around just in time to see movement and a glimpse of steel. 

  “Phoenix, behind you!”

  Eyelashes had gotten to their hands and knees and had procured a knife from inside their suit jacket. Phoenix turned around just in time to see the operative lunge towards them, blade flashing. 

  With a gasp, Phoenix crashed to the floor. A moment later, Ollie was there, aiming a kick at the operative’s nose. His shoe connected with a lovely crack! and the operative crumpled, out cold. 

  “Let me see, let me see,” Ollie said, stooping over Phoenix. Their pant leg was torn and positively soaked with blood. So much, in fact, it was hard to tell exactly what the situation was. 

  “Not good! I’m going to need to patch you up.” He could already hear more operatives on the way, drawn to the commotion. “Come on, up you get.”

  He crouched down on Phoenix’s injured side, slinging their arm over his shoulders and lifting them up. They pointed down the hallway, and he half dragged, half carried them as fast as he could. 

  They then pointed towards a nondescript side door, opening it for them with a flex of their fingers, and Ollie pulled them through, instantly noticing the medical kit hanging on the wall. They must’ve known this was here. 

  The room was a very small L shape, with a rusty bed frame pressed against the wall and a small window with tinted glass. 

  He kicked the door closed and carried Phoenix around the L bend, just barely out of sight of the door. 

  “Alright, Phoenix, let’s getcha fixed up,” he whispered, gently lowering them to the floor. Even in the dim, warped light from the window, he could see how horribly pale their face was.

  Before he could turn around to grab the med kit, Phoenix had lifted an arm and pulled it to their hand, holding it out for him. He took it and dropped to his knees, cracking it open as quietly as he could. He couldn’t hear any operatives yet, only the smoke alarms, so they were safe for now. Hopefully long enough that he could prevent Phoenix from bleeding out. 

  First things first. He untied their bowtie so they could get some air, then he pulled a pair of scissors out of the kit and cut away the sticky fabric from around the injury. Close up, it was easier to see through all of the blood, but he still didn’t like what he was looking at. 

  It was real wide and frighteningly deep. He wouldn’t be surprised to hear that it scraped bone. How Phoenix had stopped themselves from screaming when that operative had sliced them open he couldn’t understand. 

  There was so much blood, sticky and red, gushing from the cut that it was dripping off the bottom of their pant leg and onto their shoe, where in ran in rivulets to pool on the dirty tile flooring. 

  Ollie moved fast, yanking a needle and thread out of the med kit. He was glad that both Zoraxis and the Agency required extensive medical training as part of their onboarding process. He threaded the needle, his hands steady and certain even as his heart was racing. The job didn’t need to be perfect, just good enough to get them to the evac team.

  Phoenix was sluggishly pulling the loose wrappings off of their hand. Their nose had stopped actively bleeding, the red line tracing down to their chin drying fast, but their eyes looked worryingly unfocused.

  “I’m going to clean it first,” Ollie whispered, setting down the needle so he could pull out a cotton wipe. “I need you to do something to make sure you stay lucid. Can’t talk… um, how about you do morse code on my shoulder?”

  Phoenix’s hand was uncharacteristically cold even through the fabric of his shirt, but their morse code was still in good shape, drumming out letters as he tried to clean up the injury. 

  Tap tap tap. Tip tap tip tip. Tip tap tip tip. Tip tip. Tip. Pause. Tip tap tip. Tip. Tap tap tip. Tip tip. Tap tip. Tip Tap. Tip tap tip tip. Tap tip tip. 

  “That’s as good as it’s gonna get.” Ollie wiped his fingertips on the now red cloth and reached for the needle. “I know this’ll hurt, but don’t bite your tongue or anything to stop from screaming, okay? Squeeze my arm instead if you need it. Ready?”

  Phoenix nodded, and Ollie began stitching. 

  Their hand instantly leapt to his arm as they inhaled sharply. They didn’t make a sound, but their fingers unwillingly tightening around his bicep told him that it definitely wasn’t painless.

  Wincing in sympathy, Ollie finished as quick as he could and snipped off the excess thread with the scissors. He dipped his hand back into the med kit for bandages and wrapped the wound up tight. It was messy, but it was good enough. 

  He tied off the bandages. Color was already starting to come back into Phoenix’s face; just the slightest bit, but it was an improvement. They started wrapping their hand again, the motion practiced and sure. 

  Ollie released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and sat back. He wiped his bloody hands on his pants, his eyes sliding towards the door, just out of sight.  

  Phoenix pulled the wrap tight with their teeth, their free hand stealing into his to give it a reassuring squeeze before they used it to finish off the wrap. 

  As long as Phoenix was still alive and moving, Ollie wasn’t worried. 

He wasn’t. He wasn’t.

  There was a shout and a thud down the hall, then a sound like doors being violently flung open. 

  Ollie shut the medical kit and pulled it into his lap, pressing close to Phoenix. It would be better if they weren’t caught, if possible. 

  Phoenix grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. Without saying a word, he heard their silent,

  We’ll be okay. 

  He held their hand tight, a reply. 

  I know. 

  Ollie held his breath as the shouting and thudding steadily grew closer and closer. Phoenix was gripping his hand so hard that his fingers were starting to go numb, their brow set and their body tensed. 

  The door slammed open. 

  “I see more blood, but there’s no one in here!” Someone shouted, slamming the door back closed. 

  Shouts of “where are they?!” and “keep looking!” faded down the hallway. 

  Ollie leaned over, pressing his lips to Phoenix’s ear and whispering, “We would’ve been okay either way. Do you need a moment?”

  They shook their head and tried to force themselves to their feet, only to fall back down with a pained hiss. 

  “Easy, easy!” Ollie pulled their arm over his shoulders and braced himself against the wall, easing them to their feet. 

  They tested putting some weight on their injured leg and nearly crumpled, Ollie only barely catching them. 

  “That’s alright, just lean on me. Are we close to our way out? Evac is outside if we can get there.”

  Phoenix closed their eyes, brows furrowed in thought. Then, they nodded, opening their eyes and pointing to the door. They hooked a thumb towards the right, then held up three fingers. 

  “Down the hallway, hang a right, third door down?”

  They nodded again. 

  “Aw, that’s not too hard! We can make that, easy peesy! Let’s go before those operatives come back.”

  With Phoenix’s fingernails digging into his shoulder and his hand around their waist, he helped them limp carefully out the door and down the hall, just how they told him. They were still leaving behind traces of blood, which was not good, but hopefully they’d be gone before the trail could be discovered. 

  A right turn, three doors down. Phoenix used their TK to open it. 

  Sure enough, they were back in the room that they’d started in. Phoenix must have some incredible sense of direction to be able to get back here after getting stabbed. 

  Ollie adjusted his grip on them so he could slide open the window, pushing it up as far as it would go. 

  Now was the problem of getting them through it. 

  They weren’t looking so good. Their gaze was vacant, and their head was swaying like they really wanted to pass out. Ollie didn’t blame them. 

  “Alrighty, looks like I’m picking you up, then.”

  Phoenix was lighter than he’d expected. He wasn’t particularly strong, but he scooped them up with relative ease, then swung his legs out the window and carefully landed in the grass outside. 

  “Dust-off in twenty seconds at the tree-line.” The support agent helpfully informed him. “We’ve already got someone driving back your van.”

  “That’s great! Thank you!” Ollie set Phoenix back on the ground and walked them towards the tree-line. They were really struggling to stay upright now, leaning on him so heavily that he might as well still be carrying them. 

  The helicopter arrived, just as promised, and medical took Phoenix off of Ollie’s hands. Within minutes, they were in the air and headed back to headquarters. 

  “You did a good job,” one of the nurses said, examining Ollie’s handiwork from the stretcher they’d laid Phoenix on. “We’ll be able to stabilize the agent easily enough. They’ll be just fine.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear!” Ollie laughed. He gently patted Phoenix’s shoulder. “Wonder if you wish Mr. Crane hadn’t called in sick?”

  Lightning fast, Phoenix seized his wrist, making him jump in surprise. 

  “No.” They muttered, peering at him through half-lidded eyes. “You did good.” They swallowed. “Thanks, Ollie.”

  “Ah, well, it’s no problem. Don’t want my favorite agent bleeding out on my watch!”

  Phoenix smiled. “…I’m your favorite agent?”

  “D���you want to know something bad?” Ollie looked back and forth furtively, then leaned in close. “Number two isn’t even close.”

  Phoenix laughed at that. Actually laughed out loud, noisy and alive. 

  They shifted their grip on his wrist, sliding it up until they were holding his hand.

  “Wow. Favorite agent of not one, but two handlers. You don’t think Reginald is going to be jealous, do you?”

  Ollie laughed. “I’m not worried.”

~~~

tag list: @wyvchard (you can still write something for this if you’d like!) @brain-is-a-toaster

[ticklygiggles]

New Year's Resolutions| Victuuri

Collab with @otomiyaa ✨

A/N: Our first Collab of the year 🥺 Even though Ginny already retired, I keep bothering her, asking her to do collaborations together. Thanks for accepting again, my deeear! I have a blast as always~ I looove you ❤️

Summary: it's the fresh start of a new year and Victor and Yuuri find themselves talking about their resolutions.

Words: 1.8k

The first couple of days of the new year found them curled up in bed, sleeping with their legs intertwined, hugging each other and their faces so close together, breathing the same air. It was warm and cozy, in their hearts they couldn't wish to be anywhere else than in each other's arms. They would stay in bed until their bellies started to rumble and right after breakfast, they would jump back to bed to enjoy each other some more. 

A hand sneaking here and there would lead to a giggle or a kiss and then another hand going further down would make one of them let out wonderful pleased sounds that would guide them to consummate their love with kisses and caresses until their bodies got tired and they had to take long naps together. 

It was a lazy routine and at first they both felt a little uncomfortable, especially Victor, who really liked to go out and have a good time, but neither of them could resist the other's warmth and kisses. 

“Yuuri?” Victor had mumbled one morning, his voice still hoarse with sleep as he comfortably laid on his side with Yuuri snuggling against him; his long fingers carding through his lover's hair. 

“Hmm?” Yuuri nuzzled closer to Victor, taking a deep breath when his nose touched Victor's throat. 

“When are you going to tell me your new year’s resolutions?” 

Yuuri didn't immediately answer him, and after a few seconds, Victor thought he had fallen asleep again, but he didn't and when he talked again, Victor jumped slightly. 

Yuuri giggled when he felt Victor flinching and he hugged him tightly. “Are you supposed to share your resolutions?” 

“Hmm, I don't see why not. I can share mine with you and maybe you can join me in some resolutions and I can join yours?” 

“... I see. Alright.” Yuuri yawned. “You first.” 

A charming low chuckle could be heard from his husband. Ah, husband… Yuuri was still stuck in his sweet bubbly feelings when he felt Victor pinch his lower side playfully, making him let out a weird strangled noise.

“Don’t be mean Yuuri, I asked you first,” Victor argued, making Yuuri giggle.

“Okay okay!” Yuuri huffed, and he was very aware of Victor’s hand that remained on his side, but it did not move again, so he held his breath and thought for a moment.

“I would like to try more recipes. Learn to cook more good food for you, Vitya. Also eat good food together.”

“That sounds nice,” Victor agreed.

“I’d also like to visit more places. We talk more about traveling and don’t actually do it. Let’s visit some new places this year,” Yuuri continued, now feeling inspired. 

“Oh, and pick up my old workout routine. Maybe you could help me, coach,” Yuuri said playfully. He tingled when Victor’s thumb rubbed his side in approval.

“I’ll help you, student,” he said.

“Another resolution is… To tell you that I love you, more than I did last year. Hmm… Yeah,” Yuuri said, and he yawned sleepily. 

“I’m touched, Yuuri,” Victor said fondly. 

“Now, tell me yours?” Yuuri moved closer against him if that was even possible. He was pressed tightly against Victor and nuzzled him like a cat. 

“My new year’s resolution…” Victor thought out loud, and Yuuri could feel his hands on his body climb up - the one on his side trailing up his ribcage, the other moving from his waist further up as well, and he tensed up.

“Victor?” he whispered curiously, but Victor was still humming, deep in thought.

“Ah, yes. My only resolution is to tickle Yuuri more.” And suddenly his fingers dug into Yuuri’s sensitive torso, drawing out a loud pitchy laugh from him.

“Vityahaha! Nohoho!” he howled, but he had given himself quite the position in his lover’s arms and it seemed he was going to be stuck there for a while as Victor continued to tickle him with quick and playful scribbles.

“What do you mean no, Yuuri?” Yuuri’s cheeks flushed hearing Victor's teasing tone as his fingers wiggled against his ribs, making him throw his head back with loud laughter. “You have to help me with my resolutions since you're in them!”

Yuuri shook his head, shrieking as Victor moved down to his tummy, under his shirt. “You tihihihickle mehehe plehehenty ahahalreahady!”

Victor only hummed and Yuuri cackled, jumping and jerking as his lover's hands jumped from spot to spot, gently squeezing, scratching, poking and jabbing at his warm, ticklish skin. No matter how hard Yuuri tried to cover his weakest spots, Victor already knew the map of his body by memory and his fingers found every little patch of skin that had him shrieking.

“Yuuri!” Victor whined when Yuuri almost caught his hand. “Stop trying to stop me! I'm trying to do something here!”

“Dontticklemethere! Dohohon't tihihickle me thehehere- ahahaha!” Yuuri squeaked when Victor grabbed one of his wrists and pulled it above his head, exposing his underarm. “Plehehehease, Vihihihictor!” 

“Don't act as if you don't enjoy this, my love,” Victor purred and so his fingers finally touched his very vulnerable underarm.

Yuuri’s eyes widened before squeezing shut and he threw his head back, howling hysterically. It tickled so bad! It was way too early for this! And yet… he felt warmth and happy tingles spread through his body. Victor wasn’t wrong, it’s not like he didn’t enjoy this particular feeling. Laughing at his relentless husband’s mercy.

“Lehehehet go ohohof my ahaharm ahahahaha!” Yuuri kicked his legs when Victor wouldn’t stop tickling his helplessly exposed underarm.

“Alright, but promise you won’t move.” Victor was quick to agree and buried both hands under Yuuri’s arms, thumbs rubbing into the center areas of his armpits and tickling Yuuri so bad he was shrieking.

“Nahahaha Vityahahaha!” He flailed his arms and instinctively tried to push him away.

“You promised not to move!” Victor gasped. 

“I dihidn’t prohohomise ahahanything huwhaha!” The last bits of sleepiness were completely gone as Victor pinned him down and tickled Yuuri’s sides and ribs with admirable determination. 

Yuuri tried to keep in his laughter in an attempt to make Victor lose interest, but that was an impossible task when he was already laughing like a mad man, especially when he felt Victor chasing after his hips. He shrieked, panicking, trying to squirm away from those mean fingers wanting to dig into the soft and terribly ticklish flesh of his hips. 

“Hey, what are you hiding from me, huh? Why do you keep moving away, Yuuri? Am I going for your best spot?” 

Yuuri shook his head, but he then screamed with laughter when Victor finally grabbed at his hips and started squeezing them. He jolted and squirmed wildly, tears of laughter falling down the sides of his face. Victor laughed too, teasing Yuuri with comments about how ticklish he was and saying that his resolution was going just fine. 

Yuuri could barely speak as he was cackling his lungs out, his hands uselessly trying to catch Victor's, but noticing that wouldn't work, he gather the bit of strength he had left and moved both his hands under Victor's arms, his fingers wiggling into the warmth of his armpits. The sound that left Victor's mouth was inhuman and Yuuri laughed even harder as his lover's hysterical laughter replaced his own. 

“Oh my god, Yuuri!” He said in English before throwing his head back in ticklish hysteria. “NAHAHAT THEHERE! YOU TRAHAHAITOHOR!” 

It was actually hilarious that Victor tickled him so much when he was this ticklish himself. Yuuri blushed at the reconfirmation: he really didn’t mind Victor tickling him to death sometimes. However right now…

“Traha-traitor? Me? N-now why would you say that, honey?” Yuuri teased breathlessly as he managed to overpower Victor with tickles. Victor fell back, and Yuuri chased after him and continued the tickle attack under his arms, taking along some of those sweet spots on his upper ribcage as well.

“YUUREhehehe! Nohoho! Hohohonehehey!” Victor could return the pet names or anything, but nothing was better than this. Yuuri smiled fondly and wiggled his fingers mercilessly against his husband’s tickle spots.

“You’re the one training me, coach. Don’t tell me you forgot I’ve got stamina for two?” Yuuri asked, still out of breath a little but handling his teases toward Victor quite well. Victor cackled and squeaked, flopping adorably underneath him.

“I knohohow! Buhuhut my rehehesolution - ahahaha!” 

Yuuri cocked his head and concentrated on that great spot between Victor’s ribs. “Your resolution?” he asked dreamily, staring at the blush on Victor’s cheeks as he tickled him.

“Tihihickle you - wahhaah! Nohohot thihihis!” 

Yuuri nodded, taking in that sweet laughter. “But I like this a lot, too. I might add one more resolution,” he said. “Also, didn't you say we could join each other's resolution? I might want to tickle you more this year as well!” 

Victor shook his head as he shrieked with laughter. “Mehehercy on thihihis old mahahahan! Ack! Yuhuhuhurihihihi!” 

Yuuri giggled, “now you're an old man? Don't act as if you don't enjoy this, Vitya,” Yuuri giggled brightly, seeing Victor's cheeks flush pink. It was true that Yuuri was the one that really liked being tickled, but maybe after so much time together, Victor had started to like it as well and that made Yuuri's heart jump excitedly inside his chest. 

“I dohohon't- ahahahah, Yuuhuhuhuri! Leheheave my poohohohor ahaharmpihihits alohohone!” 

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” Yuuri said, and he couldn’t hold back a giggle at his own bad joke. He could hear and understand each word Victor sputtered through his hysterical laughing fit, but that didn’t stop him and his fingers from enjoying this game a little bit longer.

Only when Victor started to sound really tired, Yuuri slowly stopped his attack, and he smirked. “Mercy?” he asked, poking Victor one more time. Victor nodded tiredly and snorted.

“Yeheheah whahatehehever!” he laughed. Yuuri finally moved back in their previous embrace. They were now both all messy; messy hair, sweaty, teary and blushy faces, and each wearing a huge smile as they caught their breath while staying in each other’s arms. They both sighed deeply and looking at each other's eyes, they couldn't help but break into loud laughter again.

Yuuri thought holding each other like this, laughing and giggling and sneaking some tickles here and there, was the perfect way to start the year and he hoped dearly inside his heart that he could spend all this new year with Victor like this, loving each other and enjoying silly little moments together. 

“Yuuri?”

“Hmm?”

“We'll have a great year,” Victor said softly, his eyes a bit droopy, feeling sleepy after their little tickle fight. “We’ll go to new places and eat yummy food together and I'll tickle your little head off every chance I get.” Yuuri giggled, feeling fingers walking up the curve of his waist. “So be ready, Yuuri, because we'll have a blast! People will get mad they only see our pictures on Instagram.” 

Yuuri smiled and nodded before kissing Victor's lips gently. “I love you, Victor.” 

He knew every year would be enjoyable if Victor was with him.