#I’m sorry if it seems as if this fic is choppy or rushed—

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝚃𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 ~

·��̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙸𝙼 𝚂𝙾𝙱𝙱𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙶𝙶𝙶𝙶. 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝙱&𝙹 𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚃𝙼𝙽𝚃 𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚠— 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚘’𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚌 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚟𝚋𝚏𝚋𝚏𝚑𝚍𝚓𝚓 𝙸 𝙻𝙾���𝙴 𝙿𝙱&𝙹 ✊🏾🥲…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟻𝟷𝟸

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛. (𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝? 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝 = 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 = 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜/𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙? 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝, 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝).

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @itzsana-kiddingmenow

@saturnzskyzz @giggly-cloud @savemeafruitjuice

@rice-cake-teen10 @titters-and-tingles @tmntalways @my-l0v3r-v3rse

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝟷𝟶𝟷% 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 <𝟹

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚝!!!

̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜…𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 /𝚛𝚎𝚏˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Alright. Hear Mikey out on this one, okay? Because in all honesty, this was originally a fire plan. A lit plan. Some might say that the fire from the plan was sooooo hot it was practically blazing due to the fact of how awesome it was.

…okay. Well perhaps maybe people don’t say that exact term but they definitely should!

Anyways, it started off as a pretty chill day for the orange banded teen. I mean, it was Summer for crying out loud! These next few months were supposed to be absolutely nothing but pure chillness.

If your Summer isn’t even a bit chill in the slightest, then you’re doing something totally wrong. 

Daylight savings was over, school was over and most importantly…homework was over! (Besides the fact that Mikey and his brother’s are forced to do dumb reading reports over the break because the school system dumb)…But other than that, Michelangelo was basically free! Free as a bird. 

And so, like any sane studious kid that has been in High school for about a year…Mikey has been doing something he hasn’t done in a while since school started…

…Absolutely nothing.  

He’s been spending the past week or two playing Roblox on his IPad while eating Doritos mixed with Skittles.

Look, don’t even judge until you try, it’s actually pretty good!

But anyways, as Mikey was playing Flee the Facility, he randomly came to terms with the fact that he needed to steal some of his brother’s clothes for today…

Random thought, I know. 

The youngest has (and always will) politely take his brother’s clothes during the Summer— preferably hoodies and/or shirts. It’s basically a forced hand-me-down/Yard sale the youngest turtle always looks forward to. And today marked the 29th of June— 8 days from June 22nd. 

And if you’re unfamiliar, the 22nd of June marked the official end of Spring and official start of Summer! So the smallest turtle’s annual raid of his elder brother’s clothes was loooooong overdue. 

Last Summer, Mikey took Raph’s Detroit Become Human t-shirt, his WWE shirt, one of his polos and one of his The Walking Dead t-shirts (Raph had a TON). 

And the Summer before that, Mikey took Leo’s Squidward hoodie. And…yeah. That was basically it— the eldest was a pretty bland guy and there was really nothing worth taking from his wardrobe. 

So if you did your Math correctly, you would realize that this year it was Donnie’s turn. And so that’s what the youngest of the turtle teens was planning…

How the absolute hell could he take some of his immediate older brother’s clothes without taking ALL of them? 

Because believe it or not, the nerdy turtle of the group had a pretty good fashion taste and sense. His style was simple but not too bland or standout-ish. Donnie’s style was just a simple array of sweatshirts— a piece of clothing the smallest turtle could never EVER have too much of. 

But the tech-y turtle of the family definitely did. Just looking at his side of the shared bedroom, you could see sweatshirts and hoodies galore just scattered everywhere. 

The orange banded mutant looked through the sweatshirts and hoodies, trying to figure out which one he should now claim as his own.

A Sailor Moon hoodie? Too bright. 

An MHA sweatshirt? Too basic. 

An Attack on Titan hoodie? Too edgy. 

The youngest sighed in frustration, digging through his brother’s mountain of clothes before settling on a nice black hoodie with Gojo Satoru on it.

…what? Gojo Satoru was cool! Even though the orange banded turtle had only seen him in TikTok edits…those edit’s were pretty fire.

Just like his plan of taking his brother’s anime merch because he simply just could. 

The orange banded teen looked at himself in the mirror right next to Donnie’s tent, humming the popular yet overused tune that Gojo is associated with to himself, trying (and failing) to do the popular dance. 

“Ugh…how did Donnie do it again…?” The chocolate eyed teen inquired, attempting to do the dance one last time before lightly falling on his shell; the other sweatshirts and hoodies breaking his fall. 

“Dude…” A voice giggled behind him.

Mikey’s eyes widened at the sudden but familiar voice, glancing upwards to lock eyes with the one and only Donatello, peering down at him and smirking. 

“DONNIE!” Mikey shouted in surprise, getting up and whirling around so that he faced his immediate older brother as he tried to look as casual as possible, “Donatello! Dee! Don-bon…what’s…up…?” The youngest grimaced, sending awkward finger-guns as the hood to the hoodie fell down, completely covering his eyes due to how big it was on him. 

The elder snickered, putting a hand over his mouth as he tried to stifle them a little. “Oh shut up…” Mikey huffed, taking the hood off as the other turtle chuckled in amusement again, going to his younger brother and standing right next to him.

“My sweatshirt literally engulfs you.” The turtle that wielded glasses chuckled soflty which only caused the youngest to roll his eyes annoyed at the entire situation. “Shut. Up.” He pouted, crossing his arms as he glared at his older brother, “It looks good on me!”

“It swallows you…” The other said back. 

“I’LL SWALLOW YOU!” Mikey retorted, turning away from his brother angrily. 

The purple loving teen sighed fondly and laughed slightly at the automatic retort, raising a teasing brow at his younger brother, “Are you attempting at trying to look like me~?” 

The orange banded turtle blushed profusely, glaring at the other turtle’s question, “HELL NO.”

“Thehen why do you hahave the hoodie I wear literally everywhere? You know damn well Gojo is my go-to anime character of all time.”

Michelangelo grumbled, looking to the side of him as he swayed his arms at his sides. Okay…well, perhaps out of context it did seem like he was trying to look like Donnie. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t.

The only reason why the youngest “steals” clothes from his brother’s is because…well, he can and it’s easy. And it’s just…sorta comforting in a way. Not the stealing part…but…

Look— it’s dumb and confusing don’t think about it too much. 

The elder teen huffed out a small laugh, “Why did you choose my Gojo Satoru hoodie of all things, though?” 

“…I keep seeing him on TikTok and he’s the only anime character that hasn’t made me cry out of cringe in a way...” 

“Ooookay. Good for you, bud.” Donnie nodded, putting his hand out “Now give it here. Me and the TMLBANOT21stC are meeting later today to have a JJK meeting.”

The chocolate eyed turtle blinked, “Your going to…what…?” 

“My club stands for The Most Logical, Big-minded, Anime Nerds of the 21st century. Duh.” The honey brown eyed mutant said sassily, “Now give me back my hoodie or I’ll be late!” 

Mikey blinked once more, a small cheeky smile plastering on his face, “And what if I don’t want to?” 

“Michaelangelo—“ 

And with that, the smallest turtle ran out of the shared room, moving his legs as fast as he could that the other in the room just saw an orange and green blur sprint past him. 

“MIKEY!!!” Donnie howled angrily, running out of the room to catch up with him. The second youngest bumped in between the two eldest turtles, quickly apologizing to them as he ran after the youngest.

The leader in blue scratched his head confused, “Should we…?”

“Nah.” Raph commented. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

Donnie was internally groaning. If he couldn’t get his hoodie back from his brother in the next 10 minutes he would be late to his own club. 

Imagine that.

…Exactly! You can’t. 

The second youngest looked around the living room, trying to figure out just where his little brother was. In the last couple of years, the honey brown teen didn’t really mind the youngest taking some of his clothes (even if Donnie would’ve preferred him just normally asking).

But Donnie needed this hoodie. More than anything and one way or another he would get it. 

Suddenly…an idea popped into the geniuses brain, smirking widely as he leaned on the wall. He closed the door without stepping outside of the kitchen, still in the room to make it seem like he left. The youngest peeked from behind the couch, him and his brother making immediate eye contact. 

Ha. Got em. 

The anime loving turtle basically lunged at the smaller turtle, sitting on top of him as the other tried to squirm away. “I GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE TURD!” The purple cladded teen smirked triumphantly, crossing his arms and watching amusedly as his little brother tried to escape. 

“Just give me back my hoodie, man. You’re making it seem like I’m asking you for your liver.” 

“YOU DID ONCE!!!” 

“That was for a Bio experiment.” The elder corrected almost immediately, “But that’s not the point just— UGH! Give me my dang hoodie!!!” 

“NO!!!”

The purple banded turtle glared, uncrossing his arms as he wiggled his fingers in the air, “Wanna do this the hard way? Because we can do the hard way, little brother…”

The brown eyed mutant paled, shaking his head back and forth at the question. Well…this didn’t go exactly as planned.

Donnie just scoffed, his hands immediately going for the other’s underarms but Mikey put his arms down, sputtery giggles escaping his mouth as he did so. “P-Plehease! Deehee!”

“Don’t 'plehease Deehee' me! Give back me back my JJK hoodie!”

“BuHUT—“

The elder turtle lost his patience, effortlessly raising the other’s arms as he scribbled his free hand’s fingers all over his underarms. The smallest turtle squawked, falling into loud giggles. He kicked his legs underneath his older brother, “DOHOHON— NOHO!”

“Someone is sensitive here!” Donnie mused.

“STAHAP— I AHAM NAHAT!!”

“You’re not? Not what~? Ticklish~?” The anime loving turtle asked, his smiled widening as he saw how flustered his baby brother was getting. “STAHA— STAHA-! DEEHEE!” Mikey shrieked, “NOHO TEEHEEASING!”

The glasses wielding teen gasped dramatically, “No teasing? You take my hoodie and now you’re telling me what to do?” 

“NONONONO WAH— *squeal* WAHAHAIT!!!”

The tech whiz wasted no time prodding his thumbs on the youngest hips. The brown eyed teen squealed loudly, hugging his middles and just not even trying to stop Donnie’s hands at this point.

The last time he attempted to, his immediate older brother spent the next half an hour scribbling the orange banded teen’s palms…

That was hell in itself and Mikey was not trying to relive that again if he could help it.

“Awe…does this tiiiickle? Is this tickling you~? Maybe that’s cuz you’re reeeaally ticklish here…” 

“IHI— *squeal* QUIHIHIET!” Michelangelo demanded loudly. 

Donnie smiled at the weak retort, kneading the other’s hips harder, “What happened to all that smugness, hm? Where’d it all go, little guy~? Do I have you in a giggly puddle because your tickle tickle ticklish and I’m tickle tickle tickling you~?”

“STAHAHAP *squeal* SAHAHAYING *squeal* THAHAT, AHAHASHOLE!!!”

“Stop saying what~? Tickle? Ticklish—?”

The orange banded teen squealed loudly once more, accidentally cutting his brother off with his teasing. The glasses wielding teen couldn’t help but laugh softly at it, “Awe…look at my baby brother…” Donnie cooed. 

“NAHAHAHA!” The youngest threw his head back in loud laughter as Donnie now tickled the sides of his shell. Mikey arched his back, trying to buck his older brother off of him but Donnie held on easily, continuing to tickle him. 

“PLEHEASE! PLEHEHEASE!!!” 

“'Plehease'? Please what~?”

“JUHUST *squeal* NAHAT *hic* THE SHEHELL!” Mikey despretley cried, turning to his side as other small hiccups followed as the end of the hoodie went up a bit, revealing some of his plastron. 

The honey brown eyed turtle giggled at the perfectly played out action, “Oh…would you look at that~!” He mused, “Last chance to give me back my hoodie, bro.”

The smaller turtle’s eyes widened in realization, looking up at his brother from the corner of his eye, “Yohou *hic* wohohoudn’t…!”

“Oho wouldn’t I~?” Donnie grinned, gently holding Mikey’s waist and blowing multiple upon multiple raspberries on his stomach whilst scribbling his nails on his sides. “DAHAH— *squeal* DAHANNIE!” Mikey cried. 

“Jeez…your mega ticklish here, huh?”

“SHUHUT— GEHET— PLEHEHEASE!!!” The brown eyed teen rambled through his laughs, shaking his head. 

“Why— would— I???” The tech whiz mocked playfully, now blowing raspberries on his little brother’s neck and scribbling his fingers all over his stomach. “NAHAHAT THEHERE!! BROHOHO COHOME OHAHAN!!” The youngest squealed and squeaked. 

Donatello smirked, ceasing his 100% justified attack for a second, “You saying 'nahahat thehere' is genuinely so funny, Mikes. Like, I was going to tickle you here regardless but, hey! Thanks for confirming how badly it tickles for you.”

He resumed his tickling onslaught on his younger brother, the younger brother in question basically falling limp due to how hard he was laughing. The only body parts that were really fighting for his life right now were his legs, that still did not cease desperately kicking the floor. 

The purple banded turtle now started lightly giving ticklish nibbles on his younger brother’s neck as his light scribbles on the smaller turtle’s sides became quick and fast squeezes. “Om nom nom! Hm…you taste like…giggles! And ticklishness~! My favorite food combo!” The elder teased. 

“DEEHEE DEEHEEHEE?! WHAT DOHOES THAHAT EHEHEVEN MEEHEEAN?!?!” Mikey cried desperately, his voice sounding like a tea kettle brewing because of how squeaky and high pitched it was.

“Awe…you haven’t used that nickname for me in ages~! It must tickle that bad, huh?” The glasses wielding turtle cooed.

“IHI *hic* CAHAN’T!”

“You can’t~? Can’t what~?”

“IHIT— *hic* NAHAHAH!” Mikey silently wheezed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes tight. “Is someone giving me the silent treatment?” Donnie snickered, “Pfft— get it? Cuz you’re laughing silently~? Eh? Eh?”

Okay, even if Mikey was the comedian of the family, he would’ve admitted that was a pretty solid joke if he wasn’t getting slaughtered right now. “FIHINE FIHINE *hic* HAHAVE *hic* IHIHIT BAHACK!!! TAHAKE IHIHIT!! PLEHEASE *hic* JUHUST STAHAHAP *squeal* I’M GOHONNA *squeal* DIHIHIE!!!”

“That would be kiiiiiiiinda funny making your grave honestly.” The tech loving teen smugly said, “Michelangelo Hamato. Reason of death? Being too freaking ticklish.”

“DEEHEEHEE!!!” The youngest cried. Donnie stopped, getting up and laying next to his brother, wrapping him in a side hug which the smaller turtle immediately melted to. “May I plehease hahave my hoodie back?” 

“Ihi juhust sahaid yehehehes!” The orange banded teen groaned, literally throwing the hoodie at his immediate older brother. The anime loving teen smiled, putting on the hoodie as he grinned in triumph. “For real real. I feel like new...” He said to himself proudly. 

And if the youngest knew his brother (which he did), that was probably a quote that that Gojo fellow has said. 

“Oh! And by the way, little bro. My club doesn’t have a meet up today. It’s tomorrow.” Donnie snickered, walking away and leaving Mikey left in complete and utter awe. 

That freaking asshole.

Okay, well now Mikey’s definitely taking that MHA hoodie next year.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[kissingghouls]

Request to write a little snippet of Terzo comforting someone who’s a hot drunk mess?

Hello anon 💜 I'm so sorry for the wait. I know you asked for a snippet.... but... I started this and I kind of can't leave these two alone now. soo... sorry if this turns into a fully developed fic later ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A Confession - Terzo x f!Reader 1300 words, drunk reader, comfort Terzo. div by @gothdaddyissues

Papa Secondo’s birthday party was the ministry event of the year, and this year was no exception. There was pyro, a champagne tower, and they turned the entire nave into a dance floor for fuck’s sake! It was an elaborate, Gatsby-esque affair that would be talked about around the abbey for months. If not until the next birthday party rolled around.

Not that you had seen any of it.

This time, you’d let yourself go a little too far. You were well and truly drunk two drinks ago—and you knew better, knew you’d be past your limit and better judgement. But you kept going because “fuck it, why not?” was basically the secondary theme for any of Secondo’s parties.  Before you knew it, you were lost in that blissful feeling of feeling nothing save for a buzz on your skin and the warm wave of contentedness that radiated out from your stomach.

That euphoric feeling was short-lived—quickly replaced by the need to sit down and close your eyes for a second. And maybe eat something. Or maybe never eat again.

That was how you found yourself on all fours under a random toilet, praying to every devil you’d heard of that things would just stop spinning. You had no memory of walking to a bathroom, no memory of sinking to the floor or letting the little hexagonal tiles bite into the skin of your knees. Even if you had remembered, things were too blurry to recognize exactly where you’d ended up.

At least it was clean.

Your friends were probably looking for you, if they’d even noticed you were gone. Or maybe they hadn’t. Maybe they were having a good time without you, laughing and dancing and maybe— Awful thoughts began to cloud your mind, a cruel, little voice pulling all your fears and insecurities to the choppy surface of your alcohol-soaked brain. Your stomach burned. Your eyes burned. And your mouth did that terrible tingly-watery thing, and you could feel each of your teeth.

Fuck.

“Oh! Uh, hello Sorella.”

You lost your balance as you spun around, landing your ass on the cold floor with your skirt around your hips. Looking up through teary eyes—when did you start crying? –you found a very confused and concerned Papa Terzo Emeritus standing in the doorway. He cocked his head, a gloved hand still over his heart from the shock of finding you.

Fuck, he was so fucking beautiful.

“Um, hi Papa,” you mumbled pathetically, desperate to gather the coordination to pull your skirt back down.

“Is everything—who did this to you?”

“Huh?”

He knelt beside you and placed a hand under your chin, urging you to look at him. “Which idiota has made you cry?”

“Oh, um…” You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, trying to organize your thoughts. You didn’t remember crying—couldn’t remember if someone else had started it. If the world could just stop maybe you could concentrate. Maybe if it wasn’t stupid, perfect, beautiful Terzo asking you could think. “No one, well, I mean…I guess I did, but it’s not—I just—I’m drunk. Too drunk. I’m so sorry, Papa.”

“What do you have to be sorry about, stellina mia? Indulgence is kind of what we do, is it not?”

“Well, s-sure,” you hiccupped. “But this isn’t. This is…embarrassing.”

“Ah, well,” he began, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re in my private bathroom. Do you think I haven’t gotten drunk and cried in here? It’s happened at least twice. Maybe three times even.”

You giggled hard until your stomach began to turn. “Don’t make me laugh,” you whined before realizing who you were still talking to. “Please, Papa.”

He settled on the floor next to you. “How can I help?”

You shook your head and rushed to stand, ignoring the way the world seemed to tilt and shift under your feet. “You don’t—I should go. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, shh, stellina. Please sit down, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Okay,” you agreed and sank back to the floor.

To your surprise, Terzo pulled you closer and guided you to lay down. He didn’t seem to care that your head landed in his lap or that your wet, smudgy face was going to leave marks on his nice trousers. He simply began to hum and run his fingers through your hair, a soothing motion that made your eyelids feel heavy. The tune was familiar, something you knew but couldn’t place. It was soft yet heavy like the velvet curtains that hung in his office, warm like that secret sunny spot in the library. It worked like magic, the gentleness of his touch and the timbre of his voice calming your fears and your unbalanced thoughts as he hummed one of his songs—Yes! That was how you knew the song! How could you forget something so—

“This is better, sì?” he asked softly, his fingers still gently dancing through your hair.

How long had you been here? Did you fall asleep in Terzo’s lap? You had to admit it did feel pretty nice.

“Mmhmm,” you mumbled in agreement, unable to move from your new favorite spot.

“Bene. You relax now, stellina. I promise the feeling will pass and soon you will feel like yourself again.”

You groaned and folded your arms around your legs. “What if I don’t want to be myself anymore?”

“Oh? Who else could you be?”

“I dunno. Someone else, I guess. Someone you’d like.”

“What if I like you as you are?”

“Yeah okay,” you replied sarcastically.

“You don’t believe me? You would call your Papa a liar?” he teased.

“No! Of course not! It’s just…I dunno…why would he…” You shook your head as the train of thought left you completely. “Hang on, wait, what are we talking about?”

He laughed lightly, giving your arm a little squeeze. “We were discussing how I like you.”

“Oh.”

“Something wrong, stellina?”

“No…it’s just…” Your stomach flipped as your tried to find the words. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. Your brain felt like three different jigsaw puzzles all trying to create a coherent picture—an impossible task that only added up to the one person you didn’t mind thinking about. His hair. His eyes. The soft kind smile he’d offer when he passed you in the halls.

“That’s really sweet of you, but I…I like someone else,” you finally managed.

“Ah, I see.”

“I’m sorry. I know it sounds so silly and juvenile and I probably don’t have a chance in the world, but I have a terrible crush on Papa Terzo and I—oh Lucifer’s balls! I’m so drunk. Fuck. You can’t tell him, ok? Promise me you won’t tell him!”

“Tell who?”

“Terzo.”

“I—You like Terzo?” he asked slowly. “As in more than friends?”

You pressed your face against his thigh and made a wounded sound. “I know, I know. It sounds so fucking stupid to say it out loud—”

“It’s not stupid, stellina. Perhaps you should consider telling him how you feel?”

“Maybe you should shut up,” you groaned as everything began to spin again. “Maybe I should shut up.”

“I promise not to tell him,” he assured you. “But what if he feels the same way, hmm?”

“He doesn’t. Why would he?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Look at me. I’m a fucking mess.”

“You think he’s not?”

You sighed dreamily. “No, he’s perfect.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Not like, perfect perfect. But he’s perfect, ok? Perfect in a way that only Terzo could be.”

“Stellina,” he whispered cautiously. “I can assure you I have many flaws.”

“Don’t care,” you mumbled sleepily. “Still like you.”

“Stellina, I like you, too.”

You let out a tiny “yay” and gave him a thumbs up.

“Would it be ok if I told you this again when you might remember it?”

You yawned loudly and burrowed deeper into his lap. “You can tell me anything.”

“Do you promise, stellina?”

You reached up, waving your hand around until you found his and hooked your pinky fingers together. “Promise.”

-x-

still working on all my other WIPs. Hoping to have some vampire Primo for you soon....[and more Mary Goore shhh] 💜

[jvdeiscool]

hii Jude!! I remember you from my first days on Sakuverse Tumblr and I’ve loved your writings since (they make me claw at my walls (in a good way)) 🤍

can I request an Isaac x trans-male reader hurt/comfort + fluff? :]

ꜱᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴏɴ ʙᴏɴᴇꜱ - ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄ ʀʜᴏᴀᴅᴇꜱ ☆

thank you sm hun <33 i do agree that the majority of isaac’s fan base is female and its really hard to find fan fics for male readers :((

i found this really easy to write considering i’m also a trans male so here you go ! :-)

he/him pronouns used and trans male! reader ❤️‍🩹

cw: body/gender dysmorphia

a body. a body that isn’t yours. a body that doesn’t show you.

that’s all you saw as you stared at yourself in the mirror, picking at all your flaws. you stood there with just your binder and some shorts on.

turning to the side, you ran your hands down your chest. it hurt to see how you weren’t flat. it stung. even with the binder, it still wasn’t good enough. your choppy uneven hair, your face shape, your legs. it all wasn’t boy enough.

it hurt to see isaac live his life as happy as he can be with his body. meanwhile you were stuck, stuck forever in this body. you felt tears burning through your eyes as you looked to the floor. it wasn’t fair.

tears rolled down your cheeks, a blank expression on your face as you stood and felt the pain in your chest. the burning envy to see cis males living the life you want. you hugged your arms around yourself to cover the body you beared so painfully as you sobbed into yourself. it isn’t fair. why do i have to have this bo-

a knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts. you turned to the door quickly, knowing who it was.

“pickle? are you okay?”

obviously he must of heard your sobs, he’s isaac after all.

“y-yeah just-“ you said as you sniffled and rushed to put your shirt on. “give me one second.”

you collected yourself, having a second to breathe and wipe your eyes before opening the door. isaac stood there with deep concern as you looked up at him and tried to flash a smile.

“are you okay? are you hurt?” he asked.

that must of set something off in you as the tears started again and you put your face in your arm as you began to cry.

“oh god, come here.” he said quietly, as he urged you into his arms. you hugged him tight as he rubbed your back and shushed you. you gripped onto his shirt and sobbed into his shoulder.

“what happened?” he asked.

“i’m sorry.” you said through your sobs.

isaac sighed gently and kissed your forehead as you still had your head in his chest.

“i’ve told you before, you don’t need to apologise. what’s up?” he said as he took your face into his hands and looked at you. you averted your gaze as he wiped away your tears.

“it’s stupid..” you mumbled.

“no problem is ever stupid, pickle. come on, tell me what’s up.” he held your hands gently. stroking his thumbs over them.

“i-it’s just…bad dysphoria day, i guess? i don’t know…” you trailed off. he seemed to understand and ushered you to carry on.

“i’m not a real boy, am i isaac?”

the sudden question caught him off guard.

“course you are, y/n.” he spoke.

“look.” he says as he grabs your hands, “see these arms?” he says as he lifts up your wrist and kisses it. “so strong..” he says as he kisses your other wrist then moves his hands to your cheeks.

“and this handsome face that i fell in love with.” he kissed your forehead, then moved down to your cheeks, then your nose, then your lips. you giggled into his kiss, as this isn’t like isaac at all. he wiped your tear stains away while he kissed you. he pulled away, as he put your forehead to his and closed his eyes.

“beautiful boy..” he whispered to you. you smiled to yourself from his comment.

��if you ever feel like this again, you come to me, alright?” he says as he kisses you again.

“i will.”

HI GUYS i disappeared again oops 😟 ive been supa supa busy lately and i haven’t had motivation to write 😭

i’m so sorry this is super short i literally rushed this ill try and write a better version at some point xoxo

i hope this is okay and thank you for reading <3

- jude 🌱

[mareagirls]

Hi! If you’re still taking requests, I would like a Peter fic where the reader gets trigger and maybe has a flashback or dissociates and Peter helps ground her. Only if you’re comfortable as always. Thank you for the fics!

u got it, anon! hope u like this! you didn’t specify what the trigger should be so I went with loud noises as they can sometimes trigger me! i hope that’s okay :) if not, send another ask!

tw: panic attack, dissociation

“Bub.” Peter looks up at you from his side of the table, laughing. “We’re missing popcorn.”

And he only means it as a gentle tease- lighthearted and sweet, poking fun at the both of you for forgetting- but when your head snaps up in realisation and a panicked light hits your eyes, Peter wishes he could take it all back in seconds.

“Oh god, yeah, shit - I’ve got it, sorry. I’m sorry.” 

You shoot up before he can reassure you that it’s alright, mortification written all over your face - a deer caught between the harsh headlights of an incoming car. You look queasy, Peter thinks. Like you’re seconds away from throwing up or passing out - and before he can get a word in sideways, you’re out of the bedroom. Hurrying away, an anxious ball of nerves. 

Peter Parker knows, logically, that you’re just stressed. Worried that the movie date night you've spent days planning won't go the way you want it to, that you’ll mess it up somehow. Personally, he doesn’t really mind what the two of you do on date nights, as long as you’re together, but he knows that you’ve been planning this for a while. Knows how much it means to you.

He’s deciding whether or not to follow you into the kitchen to give you a hand when the sound of something crashing to the floor and shattering reaches him. And then, worse, the strangled tearful gasp that follows. 

He rushes into the kitchen to find you standing motionnless over a mess of popcorn and broken glass that used to make the bowl that carried it. Your hands are pressed against your ears hard and unforgiving, shielding you from the sound that the bowl made on impact. Your breathing is shallow, choppy, eyes blown wide as you stare at the mess of glass shards and salted popcorn kernels covering the floor and your socked feet.

You don’t seem hurt. Only spooked. But there’s something in the way you’re standing; limbs locked, body hunching over, whole frame trembling, that makes Peter’s heart skin. He’s seen you anxious and upset before, knows that if it’s not too bad you like to be treated normally as you come back to yourself and work through your thoughts. Cuddled afterwards too if you feel up to it. 

But this is not like the fleeting moments of anxiousness he’s seen you have before. This is nothing like that.

Whatever this is, Peter thinks, it’s far worse.

“Wanna step over to me, baby? Promise I’ll catch you.” the boy keeps his voice light, playful. Tracking your breaths as he speaks.

No response. No confirmation that you’re okay. It’s like you haven't even realised he’s in the room.

“Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

Your gaze stays firmly tracked on the mess between the two of you, but tears begin to gather at your waterline and Peter takes a cautious step forward. 

"Baby,” he tries again, panicking a little too now, but determined to not let it show. He should use your name, he thinks. Something familiar. Something that’ll ground you to reality. Bring you back to him.

(It’s what you do for him when he returns from difficult patrol nights. Peter, Peter, Peter falling from your lips in reverent prayer-like whispers as you help him in through your window, disinfect his injuries, curl up against him on the bed.

You always help him feel more like himself. Peter hopes he can do the same for you now.)

“Can you look up for me, Y/N? Just so I can see you’re okay?”

No reply, but you do blink once, twice, before looking up at him slowly, something akin to recognition flickering in your expression. Pretty eyes looking wet and sore in a way that Peter never wants to have to see them again. He offers you what he hopes is a reassuring smile and closes the distance between you in three more steps. Brushing the glass away with his converse as he goes and clearing a path for you.

You sound so small when you speak that Peter barely catches your words.

“I’m sorry.” 

He takes another step towards you, palms up. Showing you that he's not a threat. Even curling his shoulders inwards every so slightly, in order to make himself smaller.

“You don’t gotta be sorry about anything, Y/N. It was an accident.”

“I messed up,” you whisper, crestfallen, breathless. "I’m sorry. It was so loud-"

An uncomfortable knot forms in Peters chest as he realises the cause of your distress, but he soothes you tenderly with placating murmurs, stepping closer every so often until he’s right in front of you. Your hands are still tightly welded against your ears as Peter tilts his head slightly so that your eyes meet his.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he speaks quietly in the hopes of calming you down a little.

“I need you to take a breath with me, okay? I’ve got you.”

Somehow, his words cut through and the relief that washes over him when he sees you take a shaky inhale is near tidal.

“Good job, pretty girl. You’re doing so good. Comin’ back to me.”

The two of you breathe in synchronicity for a few more minutes, and when Peter is confident that you’re calmer than before, he looks at where your hands are still pressing harshly against your ears.

“You can uncover your ears, sweetheart," he motions to your hands. "It’s quiet now.”

You shake your head, disbelieving, but thankfully still less panicked than before.

“No- no the crash- I can’t, Peter.”

Peter reaches out slowly and when you don’t flinch away, he smooths his hand against the nape of your neck, cupping your head gently.

“Y/N, I promise you that it’s not loud anymore.”

You stay silent for a few seconds. Assessing his statement, turning it over in your head as you consider it. Then;

“Are you sure?”

Peter nods, “Positive.”

Ever so slowly, you lift your hands away from your head.

“It was pretty noisy, hm?” his hand travels down from your neck, soothing over your shoulders and running down your arms. You lean into the touch.

“I didn’t mean to react that way, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not. You can’t help it.”

"I really wanted us to have a good movie night, but I broke the popcorn bowl and it was an accident, but I-"

Peter shakes his head firmly and presses a kiss to your temple.

“You don’t have to be sorry for a thing, Y/N.”

You reply shakily, "I didn’t mean to react like that. I didn’t mean to ruin things.” 

The boy holds you tighter and you lean in, letting the compression soothe you as your words trail off.

“Listen to me, honey. You haven’t ruined anything. We can still do movie night, we can still cuddle. All we gotta do is tidy up in here and then we’re good to go.”

He pulls away then, eyes roving over your body, running an inventory.

“Are you hurt?”

You shake your head and Peter smiles at you, scooping his hands under your arms easily.

“C’mon,” he murmurs. "Up you go."

He places you on the countertop and proceeds to sweep up the glass and popcorn kernels. You lean back against a cabinet and focus on your breathing.

Peter hums as he tidies, glancing up every so often to check that you’re still doing okay. Refusing to let you anywhere near the broken glass whilst you're still trembling a little and your feet are only covered by fluffy socks.

When he’s done, he comes back to the counter and pulls you off it and into his arms. Sweeping you through the corridor and depositing you gently on the bed. Peter puts your favourite movie on in the background at a low volume and you sink into his side, a depleted weight resting against him.

“You okay?” he whispers as you adjust and burrow yourself further into his embrace.

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Sleep if you want, pretty girl. I’ll be here when you wake.”

[carni-val]

Tale As Old As Time [Steven Grant]

pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader

summary: Steven believed he was fully prepared for his first day as a tour guide, that is until she showed up.

warnings: Some angst on Steven’s end, shy people pining for each other, Donna

author’s note: So this is my first Steven Grant imagine, I hope I did him justice. It was only a matter of time until I began writing for Oscar, so 🤷🏻‍♀️ Just your typical meet-cute.

I’ve dabbled in reading a couple Steven Grant fics and I wanted to write one where he finally became the tour guide he always should’ve been. Events take place after everything in season 1. Hope you all enjoy!

Steven Grant Masterlist

The museum often brought Steven a sense of ease that he didn’t have in any other aspect of his life — especially when Donna wasn’t lurking around. It was where he felt the most confident in himself; his knowledge and abilities, and he felt like he was actually doing something right when he was here. The curious minds that roamed throughout these four walls gave him an adrenaline rush; all of them were so ready to absorb the fascinating stories of ancient Egypt.

However, the crowd of people inhabiting the museum today only made Steven wring his hands nervously. Donna wasn’t anywhere in sight but he knew she was watching him somewhere; maybe on the second floor, perched like an eagle ready to descend on its unsuspecting prey any minute, and it made him want to crawl out of his skin.

He could hardly stand still as he checked his watch for the millionth time that hour. His shift didn’t begin for another five minutes but he’d shown up early in anticipation for his shift today. Months ago, that would’ve seemed like an impossible task, but now that Steven was working with Marc instead of against him, a full night’s rest didn’t seem like such a dream. Getting out of bed wasn’t a struggle anymore, especially not today.

“Stevie!” he heard Donna’s voice crackle in the air.

He heard Marc’s disgruntled comment as Steven turned to his boss who was quickly approaching. “Hiya,” he propped up an awkward hand before letting it fall into his other one again.

“Stop fidgeting,” Donna scolded, grabbing his hands and tearing them apart from each other.

“Yeah, sorry,” he nodded, letting his hands press against the sides of his thighs, his body taking on a different rigidity that cased his entire spine.

“Stevie, you promised if I gave you a chance at this, you’d at least pretend to be confident,” her lips pursed.

“I did?” Steven muttered, more to Marc.

“Yes, you did,” Donna insisted before looking him over, “At least the wardrobe’s a step in the right direction."

Marc insisted that Steven leave behind the patterned button-up at home this morning and settle for a navy blue shirt instead. Steven relented but didn’t budge on his grey jacket. Marc let him have it.

“The first group should be here in five minutes,” she told him. “I’m giving you one chance and that’s it. Don’t embarrass me or I’ll have you doing inventory for the next week.”

Donna turned on her heel and left. Steven tried to swallow away the dryness in his throat as he watched her walk away. “Yeah, cheers Donna,” his voice was weak as anxiety began to paralyze him.

Hey. It was Marc. Steven turned towards the mildly reflective glass encasing one of the fossils a couple of feet to his left. Forget about her. You can do this, you know all this stuff. His pep talk was choppy; the sweetness coming out of his mouth was foreign to both of them and took some time to digest.

Steven still remembered how chuffed he was after his surprise meeting with Donna last week.

“I’m not late,” he insisted, flashing his watch to her, “I’ve got three minutes before my shift starts.”

“Yeah, alright,” Donna’s tone held annoyance as it always did when she spoke to him. 

She pulled his wrist down and Steven let it drop to his side.

“Look,” she sighed heavily, “I thought about what you said and…” she trailed off, getting a pained look on her face, “…I’m willing to give you a chance.” She had to force it out. “Just one chance at this, alright?” she added quickly but sternly.

Steven’s face scrunched up, stunted by confusion. “S-sorry?”

“Since Dean is leaving, we’ll be short a tour guide and with the summer coming up, we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Steven’s heart stuttered as his eyes went wide.

No way, this has to be some sort of dream or some mind game.

Donna’s eyes went wide too at the sight of Steven’s expression, but hers held a warning behind them.

“Don’t you go thinking nothing of it,” she pointed a finger and Steven’s joy halted. “I’ve got better things to do with my time than ask the same bleedin’ questions to every single useless bellend that crawls through those doors.” She straightened out her blazer, “You’ll take a few groups around the museum on Monday and we’ll see how you do.”

Donna gave Steven a once over as he nodded once, barely holding onto the joy that was oozing out of him at this point. She turned and walked away, giving him a moment alone to celebrate. He found Marc’s reflection in the mirror that was next to him.

“Did you-” Steven whispered, his eyes lighting up with gratitude.

Yeah, yeah-

“Oh Marc,” he clasped his hands together, “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this!”

Don’t start writing me love letters just yet. A hint of a smirk tugged at Marc’s stoic expression. Just don’t screw it up.

Standing off to the side, Steven did his best to stand still and look approachable. Since he’d been catching up on sleep, the rings around his eyes had softened significantly, so he supposed that’d help him look more inviting. He clasped his hands in front of him respectfully, but he couldn’t help but shift his weight from one foot to the other. When he tipped a little too far, he nudged the stanchion post that held a sign that read Tour Begins Here causing it to rock slightly before sharply slamming back down onto its left side, the noise reverberating throughout the vicinity.

Heads turned in Steven’s direction as he placed his hands on the metal post, stopping the vibrations from echoing out even further. After releasing it, he stood up straight again, sending quick smiles to the people who were still looking on, waving a hand to assure them everything was okay. When his eyes found Donna’s from across the room, his smile fell. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and her eyes were narrowed in on him. A predator watching their prey.

Steven quickly averted his eyes, clamping his hands in front of him again and forcing himself to stand still and tall. He looked around the museum as he waited patiently. He glanced behind him into the gift shop briefly, finding relief in the thought that today would be the day where selling useless little jellies and nicknacks to visitors would become as ancient to him as the exhibits in the museum.

It was only a minute later when a small group of children came bustling through the doors with a man in front of them leading the way and a woman behind the group to keep track of them all. Steven watched as J.B. spoke to them for a moment before directing them towards him, and anxiety sent his spine shooting up straight like an arrow as he pushed out a quick little smile towards the group. Young minds were absorbing everything they could as they looked around at the artifacts, posters, and statues surrounding them.

This was good; children were easy to teach because everything in here had a story and children liked stories.

The group of seven children approached under the direction of their two chaperones and when some of the kids were close enough, some of them said hi to him. Steven smiled down at them, saying hello right back.

The chaperones instructed the children to quiet down before turning to Steven. The man explained that they were coming from a daycare nearby and taking the children on a field trip.

“Right, great,” Steven nodded, feeling at ease already. “Um,” he pointed to his name tag, “My name’s Steven,” he introduced himself.

“I’m Jonathon,” one of the boys at the forefront of the group said.

“Nice to meet you,” Steven barely got it out before another child erupted with their name.

It was a chain reaction as each child introduced themselves and Steven’s mind spun for  a moment as he tried to remember everyone’s names. The adults supervising them were calmer as they introduced themselves as Mary and Daniel. Steven found himself buzzing with the same contagious energy oozing out of the children and just as he was about to go into his opening speech, he paused, remembering he had one thing to do before beginning the tour.

Steven counted out the group and came up to nine people, but he recalled that this group was supposed to be made up of ten. Everybody who bought tickets in advance showed up in a spreadsheet which Donna had given him; he’d memorized everything about his groups today, knowing there was no room for error.

Steven glanced to his watch just as time ticked forward another minute to 9:30. He was supposed to start his introduction now, one he’d rehearsed and revised with Marc all weekend. His brows pulled together in concern. He didn’t want to have to spend time reciting his introduction a second time for the sake of that one person, but he also didn’t want them to miss out on the full experience. Steven looked up at the entryway of the museum but didn’t see anybody heading over to the group.

He looked back at the children before him who were waiting expectantly. “It looks like we’re just waiting on one more person,” he informed them, feeling uneasy about doing so. “But don’t you worry, the mummies aren’t going anywhere,” he chuckled briefly.

“We’re gonna see mummies?” one child in the front of the group chirped excitedly.

“And sarcophaguses,” Steven added with a smile.

The kids began buzzing amongst one another, an anticipatory energy building up between them. Steven would’ve joined in on it if he didn’t keep glancing at his watch and to the door. He’d hate to leave anybody behind — sure, it’d spare him trouble with Donna later, but he simply didn’t want someone to miss out on the tour just because they were a little late.

The clock struck 9:31 and Steven began to shift uncomfortably once again. Looking across the museum floor, he caught Donna watching him like a hawk with her arms folded over her chest. He was quite sure she hadn’t moved an inch all this time.

He looked at his watch again and sighed, feeling a heaviness weigh in on him. If he stayed, he’d be late and have to rush through the tour, but if he left someone behind and they were upset about missing the tour just because they were late by just a minute, it’d still cause a problem with Donna.

How did he not prepare for something like this?

However, under Donna’s glare in this moment, he turned back to his group, stretching a smile across his face.

“Right, we can get started — lots to cover!” he told them before turning and beginning to lead the group through the exhibit. “First stop on the tour-“

They were about to walk into the next room when he heard a voice call out, “Sorry!”

Steven stopped in his tracks and turned around to see a beautiful woman in a sundress approaching. He felt something blossoming in the pit of his stomach as he watched her brisk jog slow down into a quick walk. She got closer and her eyes were glimmering under the morning light that made its way in through the windows. The breeze her fast pace created ruffled the end of her dress which billowed around her legs. Steven’s eyes fell to the smooth expanse of each of them before he could help himself.

You’re staring.

Steven’s eyes flew up to hers, feeling himself grow hot as he realized what he’d been doing.

“Sorry, I’m a part of this group,” she panted slightly, her chest heaving. She wasn’t from around here; her accent gave it away.

She lingered on Steven for a moment, her hastiness slowing — did he look unapproachable? He straightened up and let a smile form on his face just as she began rifling through her bag.

“I would’ve been here sooner but the bus was delayed.” She held out a printed copy of her ticket to Steven.

His eyes lingered on her, unable to look away as he became engulfed in the sweet scent that radiated from her.

“Yeah,” his voice was meek now, “That bus is a bit dodgy,” he agreed, a small laugh tumbling out of him.

She nodded, letting a breathy laugh escape past her lips too.

His mind fled back to his introductory speech, “I’m Steven,” he pointed to the name tag clipped to the pocket of his jacket.

When she said her name, it was all he could focus on. He played it over and over in his head like a song that hypnotized him.

Alright pal, let’s keep it moving.

Marc’s reminder forced Steven to tear his eyes away from hers and return to the task at hand.

He led the group further into the museum, stopping at certain sarcophaguses and fossils and explaining them to the children. He had them wrapped around his finger with all of the stories he told them. Some of them would let out sounds of awe and others would chime in with their own comments.

Their chaperones took some of their own liberties, looking around at other things in the room that caught their eye. They’d look back at Steven and the children occasionally but would sometimes step to the side to look at something nearby.

There were moments, however, when he’d catch them reverting to their phones for a brief source of entertainment. Some of the children began to lose focus the further they continued. All it took was for one child to point out something from across the room and all of them were more interested in that than in Steven’s story.

It stunted his confidence slightly to know that he didn’t have everyone’s attention at all times, but every time he looked back at the group, he saw her watching him, wrapped up in every word he was saying. It softened the blow of the breaks in attention everyone else seemed to be having. He felt his confidence blossom again when he saw the glimmer in her eyes and the small smile that tugged at the corner of her lips when he became particularly animated.

“…And with the metal hook, they go right up the nozzle, and…” he trailed his hooked finger near the nose of the encased sarcophagus and pulled it down while making a slurping noise with his mouth. “…scoop everything out.”

The kids’s faces were scrunched up as they let out howls of disgust. He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling and when he looked over at her, she was laughing too as she looked at the kids. Her laugh wasn’t the loudest but it was the one he latched onto. When she looked over at him, he felt his smile mute slightly out of shyness. He was enraptured by her again; more than he’d ever been with any exhibit in this museum.

“Even the heart?” one of the little girls in the group asked.

Steven looked down at her, heart thudding harshly as he felt like he’d been caught. “No,” he shook his head, bending down slightly to be closer to her level, “See, the heart was used to judge if someone was worthy enough to pass through the Field of Reeds and live forever.”

Images of Taweret and the ship flashed through his mind. He hadn’t made it to the Field of Reeds but Marc had; Steven felt a weed of envy sprout in him at the thought.

The girl’s eyes lit up in wonder and it made his heart swell. This is exactly why he longed to be a tour guide.

It brought a smile to his lips as he straightened up, relishing in the amazement in the little girl’s gaze. Steven’s gaze landed on her again and noticed that she was holding a similar look on her face but there was something more delicate about it; more intimate.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he heard one of the boys speak out.

Steven’s eyes fell to one of the little faces before him.

“Me too,” the boy to his left said.

Daniel grabbed hold of the children’s hands before asking, “Does anyone else need to go?”

A little over half of the children muttered out a yes, causing Daniel to look up at Steven. Steven stuttered for a moment; not knowing how to deal with this sudden interruption. He had planned for everything except this. There was still ten minutes left on the tour and if they stopped now, they’d surely fall behind. Steven knew Donna was waiting for him and his group to return, keeping a close eye on the clock.

“Do we have time for a bathroom break?” Mary asked.

“W-well…” Steven began to gesture behind him at the rest of the museum they had yet to pass through but trailed off, noticing the desperate faces on the children. “…a-alright,” he nodded and Daniel and Mary were off with the children. “But we do still have a lot to get through!” he reminded them as they headed toward the bathrooms.

His heart sunk a little as he glanced down to his watch. Maybe if they passed by the pyramids, they could make it back in time. Or maybe they should skip over the myth of Osiris and Isis — kids weren’t all that into love, were they?

A breath puffed out passed his lips as he looked up again, but it hitched when he realized that she was still there, standing just a couple feet away from him. She looked around the room, gaze lingering on certain artifacts as well as the floor. His heart began to thud and he wiped his palms on his jeans.

“I’m guessing you don’t need a bathroom break?” he tried to quip, getting her attention.

She looked up at him, “I think I can hold it,” she quipped back causing a laugh to tumble out of Steven’s mouth. “I’d hate to miss anything.”

He felt a heaviness in his chest again. “Yeah, sorry about that. As soon as they get back we’ll get right back to it.” He was wringing his hands again until he heard Donna’s sharp reminder in the back of his head to stop fidgeting!

“It might be a while with all of those kids,” she breathed out a laugh.

“Y-yeah, I’m sorry-“

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she shook her head softly. “I’m happy to learn all that I can.”

Steven’s mind flickered with an idea as he looked between her and the bathrooms. “Well, we could keep going until they come back,” he suggested, noticing her brows quirk up at the suggestion, a dagger puncturing that plan. “O-or maybe we should just wait for them,” he shook his head, his eyes falling to his watch once again. He’d been too eager.

Much to his chagrin, only one minute had passed. “We could always move past Osiris and Isis — kids don’t care much for all that love and betrayal stuff, do they?”

“Oh,” her tone deflated slightly, “I was kind of looking forward to that, actually,” she admitted. “But if we need to save time, that’s okay, I completely understand,” she nodded with a smile.

She was so understanding and Steven truly believed she would be okay if they skipped over Osiris and Isis, but having her leave unsatisfied would bother him for the rest of the day. He looked back to the bathrooms and saw no children approaching. He thought for a moment — should he really do this? It wouldn’t take long. Steven looked back at her, watching her for a moment as she looked around the room.

“Let’s go,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the exhibit.

She was confused when she looked at him, “What about the kids?”

“We won’t be far,” he assured her before leading the way to the exhibit.

She looked over her shoulder to the bathroom before following him. She walked alongside Steven and he couldn’t stop himself from admiring her out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes flew around the room in wonder; when he thought she had settled on one thing, she latched onto another, admiring the exhibits, fossils, and sarcophaguses in all their beauty.

By the time they stopped at the statues of Osiris, Isis and Horus, Steven was completely wrapped up in her.

“Do you mind if I take a few notes while you speak?” she asked sheepishly while reaching into her bag.

The thought made Steven’s mouth go dry but he shook his head anyways. He waited as she gathered her notepad and pen in her hand. When she smiled at him, he smiled back, lingering before he realized that was her silent way of telling him she was ready.

“Right! Osiris and Isis,” he began, turning towards the statues behind him. “Osiris was the God of the Underworld and once Isis married him, she also had a hand in the rites of passage for a newly deceased person.”

He watched her scribble the information down, absorbing it all hungrily like a sponge. The speed at which she wrote spurred Steven on and he was eager to continue, more so when her bright eyes found his again.

“What was Isis’s role in the Underworld?” she asked.

Steven let out a huff of breath at the weight of that question, “She did everything for the living, the dead and everything in between. She was the Goddess of healing, death, rebirth, and magic so she was able to bring the dead back to life — she brought Osiris back to life after his brother Set — well their brother Set — murdered him,” his face scrunched up at the incestuous nature that seemed prevalent in all of mythology. Her facial expression mirrored his, her nose scrunching up tightly as she shook her head.

"Her knowledge of funerary rites and different spells, and her love for Osiris is how he became the God of the Underworld.

“She was also the Goddess of fertility and motherhood so she protected newly deceased souls throughout their journey and treated them like they were her own children.”

She was scribbling in her notebook again and Steven was tempted to lean over and read what she was writing, but he didn’t want to intrude.

“Now, their son Horus — who is half-man, half-bird — was born after Osiris’s death. He spent his life trying to avenge his father and he was eventually successful, and he became the new king of Egypt,” Steven gestured over to a statue of Horus.

She looked up from her notes and took a step closer to it, examining it with wonder. “And his eye was damaged during a fight with Set, wasn’t it?” she glanced to Steven and he nodded. “They say that’s why we have the moon phases,” she stood up straight and looked back at him.

Steven smiled, “Is that so?”

She straightened up, “At least that’s what I’ve read,” she shrugged, caving in on herself slightly as she clutched her notebook to her chest.

He noticed her cowering in on herself — he was very familiar with the feeling. He searched his mind, quick to reassure her when he remembered reading that somewhere, “No, that’s correct,” he nodded with a smile.

A meek smile stretched across her face as her eyes fell to her notebook again.

“Are you, um, are you writing a book?”

She glanced down at her notebook, “Oh no,” she breathed out a laugh. “I just really enjoy mythology. I like learning about the myths and Gods and Goddesses from different cultures. A lot of them are quite similar to each other; even to some religions,” she explained. “Some say the story of Mary and Jesus was influenced by Horus and Isis; and the story of how Osiris came to be God of the Underworld is much different than how Hades came to be it in Greek mythology.”

“I don’t think I’m familiar with that myth,” Steven admitted.

“Well, Cronus was one of 12 titans that were descendants of Gaia — Earth — and Uranus — the sky. While Gaia wanted all of her children to be free to roam the earth, Uranus was against it, so Gaia got Cronus and his brothers together to try and get them to castrate their father.”

Steven winced, “I’m guessing family therapy wasn’t an option, then?”

She breathed out a laugh, showing off her beautiful smile again. If it was possible, Steven would’ve melted into a puddle one hundred times over by now.

“I don’t think it ever crossed Gaia’s mind,” she replied, “Only Cronus agreed to go through with it because he was jealous of his father’s power. He was successful and took his father’s place, but he soon learned his own sons would overthrow him later in life, so he ate every single child he bore until Rhea, Goddess of fertility and motherhood, had a son in secret.”

Steven’s brows raised slightly, instantly enraptured with the story she was telling. She was lost in the story as she told it, almost as if she was recounting all of it like she was there; her voice dipping and raising as she spoke. She was enthralled with stories just as much as he was.

“That child was Zeus,” she continued, “And once Zeus was all grown up, he brought the children Cronus had eaten back to life and they overthrew their father. Afterwards, they were left with the entire kingdom of Olympus.”

“Well, no pressure with that,” he let out a nervous chuckle.

She laughed along with him, “It was a luck of the draw, really — literally. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades all drew a jewel from Zeus’s helmet; Zeus pulled a sapphire which represented the sky and Earth; Poseidon got an emerald for the sea; and Hades ended up with the ruby, deeming him the God of the Underworld.”

Steven’s head recoiled slightly at how they decided on such an important matter with something as simple as that. “They may as well have flipped a coin.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, “But then Zeus and Poseidon wouldn’t have been able to cheat.”

“Hold on a minute,” Steven piped up, “They cheated?”

She nodded, “It’s Zeus, what do you expect? He and Poseidon both looked into the helmet before they reached in. Hades never looked though; he was always the most responsible God in Greek mythology.”

“Those slimy gits.”

She laughed once again, “Believe me, that’s the most tame thing Zeus and Poseidon have done.”

Just as Steven opened his mouth to ask more, he noticed the group of children and Daniel and Mary bustling over to them again. Some of the kids strayed from their chaperones and rushed back over to Steven, eager to continue with the tour, but he also caught the way some of them dragged their feet as they made their way over.

He felt his spirits fall slightly, not just because some of the kids were evidently tired, but because his conversation with her had been cut short. He could listen to her talk about mythology for hours. He indulged in the way she excitedly gripped her notebook and the way her eyes went big as she passionately explained the story about Hades. She did it with such eloquence whereas Steven felt he was quite sporadic and could get carried away at times.

Steven’s hands were getting clammy again and his heart was thudding as they all got to him once again. Speaking to her was easy because she seemed to like listening to him talk — it was a first for him — but the kids were unable to politely feign interest like their chaperones could. While Daniel and Mary tried their best to hide whenever they looked at their watches, the children had no problem distracting one another when they lost focus.

He was boring them, he was sure of it.

“What’s that?” one of the kids asked, pointing over to something a few feet away from them.

Steven followed his gaze and landed on the illustration of Ammit on a pillar nearby. The shiver that ran down his spine at the sight of it was as present as it was the day he returned to the museum after everything had transpired. Thoughts of Harrow slashed through his mind like lightning; sometimes the pain of that journey outweighed the growth that came from it.

“That,” he continued nevertheless, “Is Ammit.” He led the group over so they could get a closer look.

He watched as she stepped closer to get a better look. The corner of her mouth turned up slightly while Steven’s mouth fell into a frown. Her being this close to just the illustration of Ammit made his stomach clench uncomfortably. He didn’t want her anywhere near something as twisted as Ammit.

“She lived in the Underworld, near the scales of justice,” he explained, “Remember how everything except the heart got scooped out of someone’s body when they died?” he looked to the children and they nodded, “Well, Anubis would weigh their heart on a scale against the feather of Ma’at to see if they could live on in the afterlife; but if the heart was not pure, Ammit would eat it and the soul would not be able to pass onto the Field of Reeds.”

“So would she be considered some sort of Goddess in the Underworld?” she asked.

“No,” Steven’s answer was immediate and tinged with disdain. “Sorry,” he spoke softer now. “She was more of a cautionary being — something to be feared by Egyptians to help them steer clear of wrongdoing. A proper boogeyman.”

Her eyes were back at her notepad and she scribbled.

“Why’s her head like that?” one of the kids asked, pulling his attention away from her.

He looked back to Ammit, noticing her crocodile head that was turned the opposite way from her body.

“Well, she was made up of different parts of an animal, see?” he pointed to her legs, “She had the front legs of a lion, the back legs of a hippopotamus, and the head of a-“

“Alligator!” one of the kids chimed in, beaming.

“N-no, it’s actually a crocodile,” he corrected softly.

His eyes flickered to her again, watching her head tilt curiously at Ammit, “Is there a specific reason for that?” she asked.

Steven had to bite back a smile; he hadn’t come across anybody who wanted him to expand on his knowledge of ancient Egypt. He was used to people changing the subject or Donna cutting him off abruptly without so much as batting an eye. He felt seen, he felt heard, he felt appreciated. “It was symbolic; a way for others to understand the personality and character of these figures.”

She didn’t write down any notes this time, she only kept her eyes on him and let a small smile breech her face. It was contagious and Steven found his gaze falling to the floor as he thought of her taking on the form of a swan or a deer.

“Right then, let’s keep it moving,” he suggested, turning and walking ahead.

“See you later, alligator,” one of the children said, presumably to Ammit, but it made Steven’s steps stutter momentarily. He swallowed the lump in his throat when he heard another child say, “In a while, crocodile!” before they all started giggling to each other. Before he knew it, he felt a smile break out along his face too.

Right on time, Steven had led the group back to their starting point near the exit of the museum. The kids were buzzing amongst themselves, speaking about all of the things they saw today. Daniel and Mary were getting them organized and ready to head back to the daycare centre.

Steven felt some of the energy permeating his now calm demeanour. He listened to the kids as they told him their favourite parts of the tour; some kids spoke more than others but he couldn’t stop himself from beaming at the kind words as he felt his confidence taking root in his being, securing him even under the weight of Donna’s stare from across the room.

“Alright kids, let’s go now,” Mary instructed them. “Thank you,” she said to Steven as the other kids began to say goodbye to him.

“Bye,” Steven chimed, “Bye now,” he held out a hand to some of them that were waiting for a high five.

“See you later, alligator,” one of the children chimed.

Steven’s breath hitched but he composed himself quickly before letting the words laters, gators tumble from his lips. He repeated it every so often, receiving an array of “in a while, crocodile”s in response. His throat closed up at the notion that he thought had been tainted. The sentiment found a new life, one that bought him the comfort he though he’d lost forever.

Once the kids had cleared out of the museum alongside their chaperones, Steven found her still standing there, sending him a small smile. He froze for a moment, still stunned by her smile. He sent her one back as he let out a nervous laugh, “I-I hope that was okay.”

“It was great,” she sounded so sure as she spoke, "I really enjoyed it.”

“Really?” his vulnerability shone through the cracks in his demeanour. "I mean I’ve never done this before — this being my first day as a tour guide and all.”

“I never would’ve known,” she replied.

Steven felt the rigidity in his body liquify and escape him. “Oh, well,” he smiled at the ground sheepishly. “I mean you could definitely become one,” he added, “You might give me a run for my money.”

She scrunched up her face and shook her head, “No, I don’t think so,” she shook her head, “You did all of this off the top of your head, I would need some notes in front of me.”

Just as Steven was about to respond, his watch beeped out an obnoxious pitch, startling them both.

“Bugger,” he muttered, grasping onto the face of the watch and pressing on a button, cutting off the tone. He looked at her again, hesitating before speaking, “I-I’m afraid I have to meet my next group,” he told her apologetically, pointing behind him to where the next group was already gathering.

“Oh, of course,” she let out a breathy laugh. “I’ve got another dodgy bus to catch,” she added.

Steven chuckled at that but their time together coming to an end made his laugh peter out quickly. “Right.”

“Right,” she echoed, holding onto the strap of her bag with both hands.

It was quiet for a moment as they stood there. Steven desperately didn’t want to say goodbye, but he did have only a few minutes to meet his next group. He wanted to know more about her, where she was from, what she did for a living — he wanted to hear more about Greek mythology.

“Well, thank you,” she said, breaking the silence.

Steven snapped out of his trance, “Y-yeah, anytime.”

She lingered for a moment before giving a sharp nod of her head before heading towards the exit.

Steven’s eyes couldn’t pull away from her form as he watched her head closer and closer to the doors, the skirt of her dress waving in the breeze that followed behind each visitor. She exuded beauty and it wouldn’t have been a surprise to him if she was already in a relationship. She was beautiful, sweet, and intelligent.

Go after her.

Steven shook his head at Marc’s request, eyes still latched onto her form, drinking her in. He didn’t want to come on too strong and he certainly didn’t want to be caught asking someone out right in front of Donna.

Give me the body then.

Steven shook his head again as he watched her open the door and walk through it. She would go on with her life — one that was beautiful, no doubt — and he’d be here, going on with his own life; one that — even with all the progress done on it — was still complicated.

It was only when the door closed behind her that Steven looked away, letting his eyes fall to the floor for a moment.

What are you doing? She was into you!

Steven was about to respond but he saw a couple approaching the meeting point for the tours right outside the gift shop. He settled his focus there, plastered on a smile, and walked over, greeting the new group.

By the end of the week, Steven had taken several groups out on tours over multiple days and he loved every single second of it. Donna hadn’t said it outright, but she was impressed with him, seeing how efficiently he worked and how animated his groups seemed to be after they came back from a tour with him. There were no comments, no warnings, no type of hostility coming from his boss. Sure, she looked on from afar, but as long as she didn’t approach, Steven could handle it.

Steven eagerly made his way into the museum, hastily dropping off his bag in the staff room before getting to the floor and awaiting his first group for the day. He was sure after today, he’d officially become a tour guide at the museum. What started off as one chance on Monday turned into two on Wednesday and a third on Friday.

The night before each tour, Donna slapped the spreadsheet to his chest, “Alright Stevie, you’re leading the tours tomorrow,” she’d say and he’d accept without missing a beat.

He was eager to get out onto the floor and see what kind of people he’d be teaching today. Kids proved to be the easiest; if you were interesting to them, they’d be interested in you. Steven was naturally flamboyant as he spoke about this topic and the kids all loved it. He was still learning how to block out the parents’ disinterest.

He glanced over from across the gift shop and noticed Dean speaking to some of the participants on his last tour at the museum. Steven was sad to see him go, Dean was one of the nicer people here, but the feeling didn’t linger, especially when he remembered he got his dream job upon Dean’s resignation. He scanned through the group, about to turn away from them when his eyes latched onto her. 

She was nestled into the group, clutching that same bag she wore the last time she was here. She was wearing a new dress and Steven couldn’t tell if he liked this one better or the other one she wore when he first saw her. They both fit her perfectly; form fitting in all the right ways but breezy enough to ensure she was comfortable on this warm day.

It made the sight of her all the more painful.

She had been a thought that passed through his mind every day while he was at work; a persistent one when he was laying in bed at night. He had hoped to see her again; thinking about a scenario where she came back to the museum and Steven seized the opportunity. Marc had stopped scolding him for not taking the chance to ask her out, probably realizing how much Steven was already beating himself up about it.

He felt he was caving in on himself again, crushed by the weight of his insecurities in yet another aspect of his life, only this time, it was an aspect he believed he excelled in. Her returning presence was a gift; a sight for sore eyes, but it hurt like a knife to see her in another group.

It would be the exact same tour — there haven’t been any new exhibits since the last time she’d been here — which led Steven to the conclusion that she was just being polite and he had not done a good job on that tour.

Her eyes jumped around between all the people and all four corners of the room. She was looking around, probably because she didn’t get to last time since she showed up late. They were bright, but held a certain weight to them. One of uncertainty — she was searching for something.

When her eyes met his and stopped hastily, like a fast car braking suddenly, the weight lifted and it seemed that she’d found what she was looking for. Her gaze darted to his chest then back to his eyes. He looked down, remembering that he’d gone against Marc’s advice and wore a heavily patterned button down today instead of the solid coloured sweater Marc convinced him to wear on Monday.

Steven watched her as she turned to Dean and opened her mouth, but Dean’s bellowing voice got his group’s attention as he welcomed them and began to guide them along the tour.

She looked back at him, rooted in place as the group began to follow Dean. He saw the corner of her mouth quirk up, almost apologetically before she turned and followed the group.

Steven’s smile felt heavy, lifting up even the edge of his mouth was a hard task. Again, his eyes followed her as she walked away, her gaze straight ahead before she disappeared into the next room.

Steven was alone again. He waited, listening for a comment from Marc, but even he stayed silent.

“And of course he shows up at the last minute,” she huffs out a breath before taking a bite of her burrito. “If I just waited a second longer, I could’ve…” she trailed off, remembering she bought her ticket in advance. “…I could’ve done something,” she shook her head. “I should’ve said something, right?” she turned to her counterpart on the bench.

He sat as still as he ever had since she saw him upon entering the park. He was painted in gold and she didn’t even think she’d seen him breathe once. She would’ve thought he was an actual statue if his hat wasn’t laid out on the ground before him, collecting tips.

“I could’ve just gone to the manager and asked for exchange my ticket for the next tour,” she spitballed. “That is if he was even gonna be leading the next tour…” she trailed off before shaking her head, "Sure they probably would’ve looked at me funny, but the customer’s always right, aren’t they?”

She mulled it over in her head once again as she took another bite and chewed it, wondering if she would’ve even had the courage to say anything to him, should she have been in his group again.

“Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference,” she shrugged, her eyes falling to her lap. “Maybe it wouldn’t have been appropriate to ask him out while he’s working; I mean he’d probably think I was some weird stalker type.”

She looked back at the living statue, his body rooted in place, never once breaking position. She let out another heavy sigh as she watched him; his silence just being a wall to bounce things off of.

“Maybe I’m just lonely,” she muttered, taking a bite of her burrito.

“Sorry I’m dumping all this on you,” she told him, “I know you can’t exactly tell me to leave you alone but I appreciate you listening and not just going to some other park,” she breathed out a laugh that was tinged with melancholy. “Believe it or not, you’re my only friend around here.”

Moving to London was proving to be extremely lonely. She had been here for the past month and had failed to make many friends. After working in the States for the last seven years, she felt she needed a change. When the opportunity to move and work at a new university presented itself, she jumped at the chance.

However, she found herself regretting it quickly.

Making friends had proven to be difficult, especially because everyone at work already knew each other. They were a tight knit group and it was hard to sit amongst them and not feel like an outsider when they spoke about people only they knew and places only they’d been. It was hard to relate to them.

Everywhere she looked, everyone knew each other, they were familiar with their surroundings; everyone had someone, except for her.

Steven was the first interaction that went beyond surface level; one that didn’t start with explaining where she was from and what it was like in America; she didn’t have to listen to another person explain how much better England was and how much happier she’d be living here rather than over there. She got to listen to someone speak about things she was interested in, and he listened and asked questions. Nobody had ever been as interested in listening to her when she spoke about mythology; sure some of her students were interested but they were far and few in between. Most of her students took her course on mythology because they believed it’d be an easy class. She wanted to see Steven and speak with him again; she wanted to hear more of his stories. 

“Sorry,” she heard from behind her.

She turned her head, preparing herself to take another phone out of the hands of another stranger that was about to ask her to take a picture of them with the living statue, however when she looked up, she recognized that it was Steven standing there with a wrap in his hand.

His eyes were heavy until he recognized her and they lit up. She stood up from her seat, clutching the remains of her burrito in her right hand.

“Sorry.” It flew out of her before she could even process it.

Oh God, the second time in a day they’ve run into each other and there have only been a few hours in between. She felt her face heat up as her eyes fell to the ground. “I was just leaving,” she sent him a quick smile, hoping the ground would swallow her whole.

“Y-you don’t have to,” he offered. “I can go eat somewhere else.”

“No, no, please,” she insisted, picking up her bag from the ground and slinging it onto her shoulder. “I’m sure work’s been busy and you’d like some time alone,” she wrung the strap of her bag with her hand. “But he’s also a great listener,” she pointed at the living statue behind her who still hadn’t moved.

“Oh yeah, he’s the best,” Steven agreed. “Not much of a talker though.”

She nodded, feeling the conversation come down to a halt far too quickly. She couldn’t meet his eye but she could feel his gaze on her. She let out the breath she’d been holding, clipping out a quick bye before she stepped around him to leave.

“This bench is big enough for the both of us,” he said from behind her, making her turn around. He smiled softly, pointing towards it, “Well, three of us,” he nodded towards the statue.

She looked between Steven and the bench, a smile forcing its way onto her face as she watched him fidget with the wrap in his hand. He smiled shyly when she nodded. She sat back down in her seat and Steven made his way over to the empty spot next to the statue, tripping over the statue’s hat that was on the ground

She was quick as she grabbed onto Steven’s arm to catch him so he didn’t fall. Steven landed on the other side of the living statue on the bench with a slight thud, the distance being too much for her to maintain her grip on him.

“Are you okay?” she asked as he settled into his seat.

“Yeah, terrifically fine,” he assured her with a rapid nodding of his head.

She bit back a laugh as she watched him try and play it off.

Once they had settled into their seats, they began to quietly eat together, watching everyone else walk by them in the busy park. She latched onto people, trying to distract herself from the silence between her and Steven. She tried to focus on the group of girls a few feet away laughing animatedly, the couple on the next bench over engaging in a conversation, and the sound of feet thudding against the ground as little kids ran around the area playing tag with each other.

Her eyes would occasionally run into Steven’s over the outstretched arm of the living statue between them. They would smile politely at each other before looking away. She could feel her chest tightening and her leg began to shake as she tried to think of something to say to him. She just kept her mouth busy by taking small, calculated bites.

“Nice day today,” Steven said eventually.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded, “I thought England was supposed to be rainy,” she added, cringing shortly afterwards.

“N-no it definitely is,” he assured her with a nod, craning his neck to see over the statue’s arm.

She nodded back, letting an oh slip past her lips. They returned to their respective meals.

“Busy day at the museum?” she asked.

“Not too bad,” he replied. “Nice day like this, everyone’s looking to get out and do something.”

“Of course.”

Another moment of silence passed before Steven spoke up again, “D’you know,” his words were slightly muffled by the bit of food still in his mouth. He swallowed before continuing, letting out a laugh, “I-I think I saw you at the museum this morning.”

Her heart began beating rapidly as she prepared for this conversation to go completely sideways. “Oh yeah, I saw you too,” she nodded, keeping her eyes on her burrito. “It was nice to see you,” she added, wincing shortly after at the awkward sentiment.

“Yeah, you too,” he replied.

She looked over at him, noticing his eyes glued to the wrap in his hand that was halfway done.

“They get any new exhibits in on the tour?” he asked.

Her brows pulled together at the question, “No, not that I saw,” she replied, dipping her head down to look at Steven who looked over at her.

On the bench to her left, the couple that was previously sitting there got up and left, leaving an empty spot next to her.

“Maybe it’d be easier if you-“ she gestured to the now empty space.

“Yeah,” Steven agreed, picking up his bag and moving over to the seat, cautious of the hat on the ground.

He sat down and sent her a small smile as she greeted him with a quick and playful hello.

“I-I just thought there might be,” he said, picking up the conversation from where they left off. “Since you already went on the tour with me, I figured there might be something new,” his eyes were downcast before he picked them up again. “I mean I was scrambling around, trying to make sure I wasn’t out of the loop on anything,” he let out a small laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“No, it was pretty much the same; minus the bathroom break, which I think — for a thirty minute tour — is rather unacceptable.”

Steven’s eyes softened and his smile seemed more genuine this time around. “Yeah, Dean’s got his redeeming qualities as a tour guide though — been doing it for years.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” she nodded and she saw him deflate slightly, “He’s got no passion for the job,” she shook her head. “I mean, you seem to enjoy giving these tours very much; I don’t think I’ve met a tour guide as knowledgeable as you.”

Steven paused for a moment before turning his body to her, “Right…” he trailed off, “I hope you don’t mind me asking but if you enjoyed the tour the first time, why did you come again?”

She felt her heart hammering in her chest as she became unable to meet his eye. Her mouth opened and closed as she fidgeted with the foil wrapped around the last remnants of her burrito. “I, um…” she forced herself to look at him, “…I just really enjoyed the material.”

That’s not what she planned to say at all but his stare was unwavering and she cowered under it. She instantly regretted doing it, especially when his eyes left hers.

“Right, for that, um, book you say you’re not writing,” he tried to joke but it was heavy-hearted.

She looked at his side profile, running over the dips and curves of his face with her eyes as her confidence came out of where it was hiding from his stare. “No,” she said, “Because I really enjoyed your company.”

Steven’s head quickly turned towards her. He watched her for a moment; studied her with eyes that roamed over the expanse of her face before the rigidity in his body dissolved. “I really enjoyed your company too.”

A smile pushed across her lips as her eyes fell to her lap momentarily.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me?” he asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt as though he was a bit forward, so he added, “I’d love to hear more about Zeus.”

She laughed at that, “He’s definitely a great topic of conversation,” she said, “But I’d also love to hear more about you.”

Steven’s heart stuttered and he nodded, “I-I mean I don’t have as much to offer as Zeus does, so maybe we can spend some time talking about you too.”

She beamed at him and it was a beautiful sight. “I’d like that.”

Steven grinned brightly but the moment was short-lived when his watch blared out again.

“Another tour?” she asked as he turned off the alarm.

“Yeah,” he looked up at her, an apologetic look that that softened upon meeting her eye. “But I think I can spare a few minutes.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Strangers on a Train

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: a crowded subway ride turns awkward.

Warnings: nonconsensual touching, claustrophobic descriptions, dirty dirty deeds, size kink, sorry can't help but embrace a short reader.

As always, my fics are dark! in nature and 18+. Do not proceed if any of the warned topics disturb you. Please practice responsible content curation.

Note: So I decided to just release this as a drabble for now but I'm always happy to add on more!

Please like, reblog, and leave your thoughts. <3

It was always busy this time of day. Rush hour wasn’t exclusive to the streets as the underground filled with riders both coming from and going to work. You were lucky enough to be among the former, eager to unwind after a day at the office. Still, the prospect of a glass of wine and your favourite take-out didn’t ease the anxiety of the crowded train.

You were only three stops away from your station but first, the doors slid open and let on another dozen passengers. You moved with the rest of the packed car brushing against several people as you try to find space amid the sea of bodies. Your back was almost flush to the man behind you. He gripped the metal bar as his phone buzzed and he fished it out to answer loudly.

“Walker,” his deep voice passed through you, “mhmm.”

You zoned out but the train turned and you struggled not to lean into him as the bodies shifted with the curve of the track.

“Sorry, yeah, I’m on the train, damned car’s in the shop,” he said as you tried not to eavesdrop. It was difficult as his deep baritone rumbled and pierced the buzz of the subway, filled with other chatter and dings and chirps of phones, “haven’t been on in years, I forgot what a shit show it is.”

You held in a scoff. He wasn’t wrong. You glanced back and caught a glimpse of his long jacket, finely tailored and assurance of his unbelonging. What a pity for him to have to ride with the peons, you rolled your eyes apathetically. You adjusted your hand as the train stopped again and you nearly fell as your back hit his front and he let out an annoyed breath.

You apologized as only a few passengers departed and even more snaked onto the car. The man behind you stood firm and did not relent as you were further squished against him. You were sweating terribly as you gripped the leather handle of your bucket purse. You were right against him but he hardly seemed bothered as he kept up his one-sided conversation.

You slid your bag further up your arm so it hung in the crook of your elbow. You clung to the bar with both hands as the train jolted back into motion. Only two more stops and it would be over. Public transportation was the embodiment of pure misery.

The man grunted and hung up with a whispered curse. You weren’t sure if it was directed towards his fellow passengers or whoever was on the other end of the call. You fidgeted and watched the time flash against the electronic banner at the front of the car. The heat of all the people around you and the body pressed to your back seeped into you and added to your unease.

You realised as you stumbled again and he caught your shoulder, how big he was. Easily over six foot as you stood more than a foot below. He was like a wall as he hardly flinched at the choppy movement on the track. You apologized again and he let go of your shoulder as he muttered something you couldn’t quite decipher.

Another hot breath washed over your scalp and down your neck. As the track curved again, you were angled against him and that time his hand went to your elbow. He squeezed as he leaned with the motion and righted himself as the train straightened out. He pushed against you and a low growl escaped his nostrils.

He kept you flush with him, not that you had the space to move away. The train subtly shook your bodies and his fingers slipped from your sleeve and softly closed around your hip. You tensed as he tilted his pelvis into you. He groaned, so low that only you could hear it above the noise of the car. 

The realisation was a slap in the face. You couldn’t believe what was happening. Well, you could, but you wished it wasn’t. You shifted but his fingertips poked at you through your dress pants and he wriggled against your back. You felt the prodding firmly against you and you gulped in distress.

You thought of yelling at him but your voice caught in your throat. You were mortified as he slowly rocked against you. He was deliberate as he rubbed his erection against your back and his hand slid down the metal bar over yours. He latched onto you as the next stop came up and moved you with him as he let more people pass.

The train tore out of the station again and he brushed his hand to your stomach and spread his long fingers over your middle. You peered around helplessly, wishing anyone would notice and stop him, or that you could disappear. You didn’t know what was worse; to be seen or not.

His fingers curled and he pushed into you a little harder. His body shuddered and his ragged breath confirmed your suspicion. He grunted and cleared his throat as his hand fell from your stomach but his other stayed around yours on the upright bar. You clenched your jaw to keep from falling apart completely.

The train whined as it careened up to your stop and you were lurched by the sudden halt. You shoved away from the man and tore your hand out from under his, hitting him with your bag as you turned to sidle around him. You elbowed past the clueless riders all around and to the door, hopping out onto the platform before the doors could shut on you.

You balled your hand then shook out your fingers as you tried to get rid of the lingering warmth of his touch. You were shocked and sickened by what just happened. You tried desperately to convince yourself it hadn’t as your wedges hammered over the concrete. 

You stopped just after the turnstiles to catch your breath. You took out your phone with trembling hands and opened the chat with your mom. You wanted to call her and freak out but you hit the home button instead. You couldn’t worry her like that, she was already so uptight about you living in the city alone.

You kept your phone in your hand and climbed up onto street level. It was just another gross encounter on the train. Another horror story to add to the endless ones shared between women all over. It was more an oddity to take the train and not run into a creep, those trips were akin to miracles.

[catgrump]

okay hello! im the anon who asked for the "hold still" request with byakuya!! i meant like byakuya x reader if that makes sense. thank you,,!

YES Byakuya/Reader is fine and acceptable!

Here we go: time for some good ol Non Despair AU

🌻🌻🌻

“Hold still,” you flinched again, doing your best to adjust your body back to where it was after Byakuya barked the order at you

“Sorry, Byakuya,” you apologized, knowing full-well why it was so difficult for you to stay in place.

Your nerves have been on edge for the past half hour as you sat in Byakuya’s room and watched him try to hide his struggle behind a drawing pad on an easel.

You and Byakuya were paired up for an assignment in your Fine Art Class: portraits of the other.

Byakuya is always so confident with everything he does, but sitting in silence, only having one person to look at, you’ve been able to tell he’s having trouble keeping up the facade

“Byakuya?” You dare to ask

“What.”

“Any, uh,” you fidgeted with the fabric of clothes on your legs subtly, trying not to get out of your pose, “any idea when you’ll be ready to switch? I uh, have an assignment, too—“

“You can’t rush perfection, Y/N,” he scowled, “It takes time to create a true-to-life portrait.”

And then he started mumbling through gritted teeth as his gaze went back to the canvas, “IjusthopeIcandoyoujustice—“

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything,” he sternly insisted

He was biting his lip as he continued to work. His strokes with the pencils were so sporadically different— sometimes they were tiny and quick, then they were grand and loose— and it was difficult for you to figure out what part of you he was drawing at any given time.

He causes a weird stew of emotions to brew inside you. He’s stubborn and blunt and brash and a complete snob, but for some reason you’re looking for any excuse to be in the same room as him.

As his face contorts while he concentrates, you can’t help but smile. It’s a combination of satisfying and sweet to see him actually TRY at something. Life seems to be so effortless for him from your perspective, so seeing him clearly putting in effort is oddly gratifying.

“Hold that face,” instinctively, your face changed to show your surprise as Byakuya suddenly gave a new command, pointing his free hand toward you, “I’m drawing you like that— change back.”

“Change back?”

“Smile again, you dullard.”

“Dullard?”

“... sorry, Y/N. I just,” he paused for a moment, “I know the portrait will be improved if you’re smiling.”

“You think so?”

“You doubt me?”

“Uh, n-no, sorry.”

Silence. He didn’t go back to drawing; he just sat there, looking at you. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to smile for me?”

You felt heat creep to your face. His voice was smooth, like running your fingers across silk. You had to clench your first to resist shuddering. “Y-you can’t just ask someone to smile and expect it to look natural,” you nervously informed him

“Well,” he tilted his head and bit his lip again... but it was different this time. It felt intentional, “How do you suggest I get that smile from you?”

How the hell are you supposed to answer that? You fumbled with your words for a bit before he spoke again, apparently not needing an answer from you, “Perhaps,” he smirked, then seemed to change his mind about something, “No, I’m sure you already know you’re attractive; I don’t need to tell you that. Hm.”

He continued to think as you processed his words. Did he just call you attractive? Does he think you’re good looking? The grip on the fabric of your clothes tightened as your face became hot and your palms started to sweat.

And then he looked back at you, his smirk suddenly smug, “Oh, that’s a reaction I didn’t expect. Do you not know? Pitiful.”

“Excuse me?” You could suddenly speak again

“Someone like you? I’d just assume you can look in the mirror and know you’re attractive. Is that not obvious?”

“What does that mean?” Your heart was beating like a drum at a rock concert

“I’m just stating a fact,” how can he be so nonchalant about that? “Well, as much as I want to document your smile, drawing you flustered like this may be more entertaining.”

“N-no, Byakuya; that’s not necessary,” you reached your hands out, knowing full well you can’t physically reach him, “I’ll smile again, okay?”

Oh now he looks pleased. That puts a pit in your stomach. “Oh, no, Y/N; I’ve made my decision,” he quickly went back to his sporadic drawing, “The piece is almost complete now that inspiration has struck.”

You absolutely do not want everyone in your art class to see you like this. You do not want to imagine what people would say if they found out what you look like when Byakuya (presumably) compliments you. You get up from the chair and start over toward him, pleading “Byakuya, please, come on; this isn’t funny,” while he overlaps you with, “it’s not my fault I had a burst of inspiration; everyone is going to marvel at this, I’m sure of it!”

And then you stop dead in your tracks when you take hold of his wrist to move his pencil off the paper, finally seeing what he’s been drawing.

You tighten your lips and your free hand covers your mouth. A laugh snorts out of you and you’re repressing more laughter from spilling between your fingers.

It isn’t good. The proportions are mismatched, and the facial features are spread out in places they wouldn’t ever be on a human being. The hair resembles plant life more than real follicles. The lines of your clothes are blocky and choppy, as if you were made of paper.

“Stunned into silence by a true masterpiece, I assume?” Is he joking? Is this a bit? This has to be a bit, right?

He looked up at you and was smiling. Oh no, he’s serious. Oh dear. Your eyes went wide and you grit your teeth before taking a breath. “You, uh... you certainly put in a lot of effort, Byakuya.”

If you enjoy my work, you can buy me a Ko-Fi 💛 Fics will always be free; this is just an additional way to support me

[asphalt-cocktail]

For the Sake of content- Chapter 10

Chapter 10- Uncertainty and the Test of Time.

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Hi friends! I know this took me forever but honestly this chapter hit a little too close to home for me to begin to feel comfortable writing. But today I finally worked up the courage to write it and oh boy let me tell you it is SAD. But dont worry this fic will have a happy ending! Also if you can figure out the era of Roger I am transitioning too bonus points to you! Sorry it is so short, it was  difficult for me to write this emotionally and took a lot out of me. 

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, ANGST, longing, just a lot of sad feels, (dont worry there will be a happy ending), Mentions of smut but no actual smut in this chapter, alcohol mentions, not proof read

Word Count: 1.9k

The following morning you woke up, your sinuses feeling gummy and throat dry.

Glancing at the clock you made a mental note of the time, much too late for you to still be in bed. Your stomach clenched when you heard the door open and despite want to stay in the warm cocoon of your bed you felt yourself moving on your own. The sudden urge to see Roger flooded over your body and you shuffled out the bedroom, quickly thinking of some excuse you could make to be out here with him. Fluidly you moved to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water out of the tap.

“Hey.” You said setting your cup down and watching him set his keys on the kitchen table.

He grinned up at you “Hey,” he responded back. Your gaze watched him as he moved through the house with out much of a second thought before he retreated to his room, “Hey I’m going to be gone for a few days.” His muffled voice called.

“Where are you going to be?” You called back sitting on the kitchen table. You didn’t know if your stomach hurt from being hungry or from what you knew Roger’s answer was going to be.

He came out with a backpack slung over his shoulder “Oh, I’m going to stay at Dominique’s for a little while.”

You pursed your lips and nodded your head, “Oh, well have fun.” You said flashing him a closed mouth smile.

He didn’t give you a second glance before leaving the house.

Your heart clenched, why would you be so upset over your friend leaving for a few days? Roger had his own life and you needed to respect that. Those thought played over and over in your brain for the remainder of the day and it seemed like no matter how often you thought them they never seemed to get through to you and the more you felt nauseous.

You didn’t know how many days passed until Fred had showed up pounding on your door.

You opened it and were immediately met with a grimace “You look like you haven’t left your bed in three days.” He said pushing his way past you and letting himself in to your ‘shared’ apartment.

“Well how many days has it been since Sunday?” You asked rubbing your tired and slightly swollen eyes.

“Three.” Fred said pointedly.

You plopped on the couch, “Well then you’re right.”

Your friend’s eyes narrowed as he looked at you, “What do you mean I’m right?” He said sitting next to you, “What’s got you in a funk?”

You felt his intense gaze as you averted your eyes from him, looking down at your feet and playing with the hem of your shirt. “It’s nothing.” You responded before letting out deep sigh. “What brings you over?” You asked lightly slapping your hands on your thighs.

Fred gave you a weird look, his brow eyes intently taking in every bit of your body language, “I you haven’t talked to anyone since Saturday night.” He said a light frown gracing his sharp features.

You shifted awkwardly, “Wow, crazy,” you remember your phone, sitting on your nightstand and on do not disturb, “Are you sure?” you asked knowing the answer.

Fred stood up, “Get up.” He said grabbing your limp arm and tugging you reluctantly to your feet, “Go shower and then we’ll continue talking.” He said pushing you towards the bathroom not caring you had no change of clothes.

The bathroom door shut behind you and you looked in the mirror, you really did look like shit. Your skin looked dry and dark bags hung under your eyes and your hair looked dirty. You frowned and turned the water on hot, as hot as it could go, undressed and stepped in.

The hot water soaked your body and burnt your skin, yet it didn’t hurt; it felt strangely cathartic. You inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, feeling tears beginning to well in your eyes. You covered your face with your hand and a sob wrecked through you, shaking your body and causing you to lean forward.

Your shoulders shook with sobs and your tears mixed with the water, washing away the evidence of your crying. You tried your best to curb your sobs but choked them out anyways. It hurt. Knowing Roger had sex with you and dropped you the moment he saw someone better come along. Like always, you were second best.

Your brain processed what had happened in the last few months of your life. Walking in on your boyfriend Harrison, breaking up with him, moving in with Roger, becoming a cam girl, having sex with Roger a lot, sharing soft intimate moments with him, and now sitting here on the floor of your shower crying with your knees into your chest as the cold water ran out.

This was a new low moment to say the least.

A knock on the door shook you from your endless thoughts, you sniffed and rubbed your face before standing up, “What?” You called back.

“What’s taking you so long? There’s no way you still have hot water.” Fred shouted back.

He was right, you didn’t and you hadn’t even started washing yourself. You suffered through the cold water and washed your hair and body, cleaning it of the filth and emotions.

As soon as you had your towel wrapped around you Fred opened the door and tossed a bottle of his nice moisturizer at you, “You always feel better after you moisturize.” He said and shut the door one again.

He was right, your skin looked dewy and no longer crusted with sleep and sweat. You felt clean like a breath of fresh air, but your mind continued to remind you of how alone you were in this apartment. The two of you sat on your couch once again, this time you were clean and in fresh clothes.

Freddie splayed his hands on his pants, “So,” He started out, “When were you going tell me that you and Roger have been sleeping together?”

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you “What are you talking about?” You asked trying to hide your nerves.

“I saw a picture. I know what the both of you look like naked it isn’t hard to tell.”

Heat crept up the back of your neck and spread from your face to the tips of your ears and your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find your words, “Is that what this is all about?” Freddie asked maintaining his intense gaze.

You averted your gaze from his and stared hard at the floor. Fred grabbed you and forced you look at him, “Listen, [Y/N], Dominique is a manipulative witch that knows how to wrap Roger around her finger” You stared into his intense brown eyes, “She doesn’t have shit on you and never will.” He let go of your face and you didn’t move, “She sweeps in and sinks her dirty claws into Roger’ soft heart and takes advantage of him.” He picked some lint off his pants and paused before he continued, “No one likes her.” He added.

You took Freddie’s words to heart, he seemed genuine and you had already learned previously that Dom was not well liked among the boys. At the end of the week Roger returned, presumably to get a new bag of clothes.

To say you were shocked to see him was honestly an understatement. You gaped at him when he walked through the door “What the fuck happened to your hair?” You asked looking at him.

His long choppy hair was now short and wild on his head, Roger rushed past you, “Do you like it? Dominique said it looked better this way.” He said moving to his room.

You couldn’t help but follow him and lean on his doorway, “Dominique told you to cut your hair short so you did?” your voice was laced with disbelief.

Roger glanced back and you and nodded his head, “Yeah.”

You rubbed your face with your hand, “Do you know how insane that sounds? She is literally telling you how to dress, Roger.” You frowned deeply, “What happened to changing your clothes three times a day and not wearing the same pair of shoes every week, or waking up an two hours before you need to open the store to style your hair.”

Roger didn’t look back at you and continued to stuff clothes into his duffle bag, “I know, but that isn’t efficient.”

An audible scoff left your mouth, “Efficient?” You gaped at him, “Since when did you care about efficiency?”

Roger’s head whipped towards you, “Since when did you care about what I do with my life?” He said, a nasty tone dripping from his words.

You didn’t like this. Not one bit. “What is that supposed to mean?” You asked following with your arms crossed over your chest.

Roger turned on his heel and looked at you, “It is supposed to mean that you shouldn’t care about the other women in my life.”

You clenched your fists, “Roger, Dominique doesn’t care about you and by the end of next week you’ll be back here sulking in your room and bitter like you first were.”

Roger clenched his teeth, his blue eyes now ignited with fire, “Why do you care? We aren’t together and we never were. Get over it.” He hissed before slamming the door behind him.

Your stomach tightened as his words as they rammed into you like a truck. Your mind flashed back to the moments to intimate to be just sex.

Roger cupped your face as you clung to him, your body trembling as he leaned against your headboard with you on his lap. He kissed your face, your nose, eyes, and cheeks. “God, you are so fucking beautiful.” He said pressing his lips fully against yours as the two of you clung to each other.

---

You laid your head in Roger’s lap as the two of you laid across the couch while some shitty movie played in the background. You had a bowl of popcorn in your lap and threw pieces as Roger tried to catch them, every time he missed, they would lightly plop on your face. You didn’t care about the salty butter dirtying your skin. Roger awkwardly craned his head down, his long dyed hair framing the sides of your face and tickling the skin. Your nose scrunched and Roger laughed softly before kissing the tip of your nose.

---

Another night at the bar, spent dancing until it was either very early or very late. The two of you clung to each other with an arm wrapped around the other’s waist, your steps swaying and causing the two of you to stumble and laugh.

---

The first time Roger slept in your bed; you woke up to his already wild hair looking now untamable while soft snores left slightly ajar mouth. You brushed his hair back and he pulled you into his chest as he kissed your shoulder and buried his face into your back.

These moments were far too intimate to be just sex or to be just two friends. Your brain felt muddied; did he not feel the same? Did he still think of this as a business arrangement?

You felt dizzy from all of the questions that flooded your brain and soon began to feel helpless.

If Freddie was right, Roger would be back within the next week saying ‘you were right [y/n]’

But until then, your feelings could only stand against the test of time and uncertainty.

[shuatoyou]

➵ request: a fic based on an angsty quote from insta: “maybe someday we will be two people meeting again for the first time”

➵ genre: angst angst and more angst

➵ a/n: ughh this quote was perfect, i wrote two different scenarios and had to choose between the one that fit best. this one was the winner. i hope you like it thank you for requesting anon <3 (sorry if its so choppy btw ugh)

the skies, the damned skies.

you hated how the night sky reminded you of him, his eyes that always sparkled almost as if it was holding an entire galaxy.

you hated how every empty shelf reminded you of the times where they were once filled to the brim with novels waiting to be read by him. 

you hated how he had symbolised nearly everything in your life and it all took you back to him. to that day; that moment. especially now that he was standing in front of you.

the sound of your phone ringing pulled you out of the daze you were in and you rushed to answer without paying any attention to the caller id. 

“hello?”

“i’ve been trying to reach you for the last ten minutes y/n” the voice on the other line that belonged to your friend mingyu huffs frustratedly.

“i'm sorry i must have left my phone on silent, what's up?” 

“are you coming to the company dinner?” he asks with a nervous tone to his usual cheery voice.

“i have to be there as the team leader, gyu, i told you this.”

“oh you did…”

“is everything okay?” you question as him being forgetful was not likely.

“yeah of course, i’ll see you then. is anyone taking you there?”

“i was just planning on making my own-”

“i’ll pick you up at six then,” he says, interrupting you and hanging up abruptly leaving you puzzled but with a yawn you pick up the work you were previously doing.

mingyu picked you up at six like he said he would, you greeted him getting into the car. the two of you complimented each other's looks, mostly him praising your sense of style for once with a laugh however the rest of the time you guys rode in silence for most of the journey except when he made small conversations about work here and there until you spoke up again.

“you sounded weird earlier, you alright?” you turn towards the driving figure in your seat.

“im fine, why wouldn't i be?” he says equally as weird as earlier so you just dust it off with a shrug knowing you wouldn't be able to get anything out of him. humming along to the music you both zoned out into your own worlds.

from the moment you two arrived, stepping foot into the large venue rented for the dinner mingyu had practically glued himself to your side while you greeted coworkers and partners.

“don't you have your own team to be sticking by right now?” you asked, sighing.

“yeah but i don't want to leave you alone” he shrugged, taking a drink from the table behind you before offering you one which you gladly accepted.

“it's nothing new gyu don't worry just go” you shoo him away and turn around searching the crowd as you sipped on the prestige glass filled with equally as prestige champagne. mingyu was still hovering behind you however less annoyingly so you dismissed it for the time being.

it wasn't long before you met eyes with a new figure that walked in, your heart began racing and your stomach dropped at the sight of him. his hair was cut shorter now, the charcoal colour of it stood out to you and of course he was wearing the glasses you stole from him countless times. your eyes stayed focused on him watching as he greeted some people, mingyu followed your gaze to finally notice him too, his eyes widening as he immediately steps in front of you averting your attention to himself.

for a moment you’re stood there trying to figure out whether your mind was playing tricks on you but mingyu's actions confirmed enough 

“what are you doing?” you question raising your eyebrow.

“i'm sorry i didn't want you to find out like this y/n” 

“you knew?”

he nodded at your question.

“is this why you were acting weird all day?” 

another question answered with a mere nod, you understood now.

“it's not that big of a deal anyways, i'm fine” you smile reassuringly patting his arm signalling for him to move since he stood in a protective manner, as if you were fragile. with an apologetic look he nods once again, moving away.

wonwoo being there was a surprise to you, especially when it had been so long since you last saw the boy. your mind raced with thoughts and questions that you did your best to shake away.

eyeing the boxes spread onto the floors, you walked onto the balcony where he was standing looking over at the stunning view you had both bragged about countlessly for the past few years. 

your first instinct was to question why the books were off the shelves and in boxes but he beat you to it as he spoke up.

“i have to go y/n” he told you, not sparing you a single glance.

“what?”

“i got the promotion.” he stated nonchalantly although his eyes were watering making you even more anxious.

“why would you only tell me this now?” you did your best to keep your voice at a steady tone, but you knew wonwoo knew you like no other, probably better than yourself in fact.

“i didn't know how to bring it up, '' he sighs, finally turning to look at you and sitting beside you on the balcony you two had walked onto for air earlier where wonwoo finally decided to bring up the topic.

“a simple, ‘hey i’ve been given a promotion to work overseas’ would’ve done the job wonwoo” you laugh bitterly looking down at your feet.

“i'm sorry”

“when do you leave?” you whispered not trusting your voice anymore.

“next week…” you look up to meet his eyes that were softly looking at you, still as sparkly as ever and still manage to captivate you in them.

“is this goodbye then?” 

“i think so.” he moved slightly to the side getting closer to you, pulling you into a side hug and you don't even fight against it, allowing your figure to be taken into the arms you knew you would miss. the two of you release the tears that were fighting to break free. you felt the circles he rubbed onto the side of your arm, something he always did to comfort you.

he kept his arms around you tightly as you began to withdraw yours from him.

“i can't even find it in me to be angry at you, i really should be but i just can't, woo” your voice comes out shaky, it was like you were disappointed at your feelings.

“this isn't the end y/n” he did his best trying to reassure you.

“it wouldn't have been this hard if you spoke to me… we could have figured something out.” you snapped, feeling a slight anger rush to your head. you were truly upset

“figure what out? would you come with me?” he asked frustratedly.

his question was met with silence, in fact the only sound in the atmosphere was the swaying of the trees and leaves fighting each other on the grounds

“do you think maybe someday we’ll be two people meeting again for the first time?” you mumble.

“yes and i promise that.”

“maybe this is best for us, maybe we need to go our own ways for now and meet when it's time again.”

“until then, i’ll only be one call away,” he vowed.

but the calls never happened, the texts got less frequent and soon he was just a mere memory left in your past.

his eyes were now looking back at you, holding your gaze. he took a few steps to get closer and see if it really was you making your heart practically jump. you broke eye contact first turning back around to your friend. wonwoo couldnt peel his eyes off of you especially when it had been so long. you had changed alot and it pained him to know he wasn't there for some of your biggest changes although mingyu made sure to notify everyone through his social media during the years which turned out to be beneficial to him more or less.

now you were right in front of him, looking as beautiful as ever. all the memories rushing back but all you could wish for in that moment is for him to have broken the promise.

“he’s looking at you y/n” 

“and? i have to go find my boss.”

“now? wait let me come with y-” you stop him putting a hand up.

“i'll see you in a bit, mingyu.” with that you turned around on your heels despite the objections from the boy himself, making your way to the other side of the venue content on finding your boss until someone stopped in front of you bringing you to a halt, your hands immediately lifted up to steady yourself on the strangers chest.

“steady there”

the familiar deep voice made you jump, quickly removing your hands off him and dusting off your dress.

“still as clumsy as ever?” he chuckled.

“oh.. no you got in my way?” you stated kind of like a question. you knew mingyu was watching this interaction from somewhere so you silently hoped he would save you. 

“sorry about that i guess” he was awkward, his hand at the nape of his neck trying to lock gazes with you but that was your stubbornness not wanting to look him in the eye.

“do you mind if we talk for a minute?” he finally spoke up again after the moment of silence.

you hesitated looking back to where mingyu was standing, he was begging you with his eyes to say yes. so you nodded. there was no harm in talking to him again right?

wonwoo seemed shocked at you accepting to talk so it took him a second to compose himself,

 “oh? okay great.” he stumbled on his words and almost his feet as he led the way to the bench outdoors.

the two of you took a moment to breathe the fresh air and you wrapped your shawl around you tighter in attempts of keeping warm from the fierce cold. he took notice of this. you always got cold easily anyways.

“maybe it wasn't a good idea talking outside in the cold.”

“what do you want to talk about wonwoo?” you ask, making him turn around to you before sitting right beside you on the bench.

“i'm sorry.” he said, voice shaky and deeper than ever. you weren't sure whether the goosebumps on your skin was from the cold or his voice.

you hum in response. “for what?”

“for leaving back then.”

your figure straightens at the words falling out of his mouth.

“is that it?” you say coldly.

“no, but i don't know how to get into the rest of it.” he admits avoiding your gaze like you were doing to him.

“please don't.” you plead with a whisper standing up and facing his sat figure. “i’ve moved on wonwoo everything's different now, i don't need an apology. we did this years ago we got over this. you have nothing to be sorry for.” you vent.

“y/n…” he stands up taking a step closer to you.

“it's fine. it really is.” you assure him as much as you honestly could.

“you were the one who asked if one day we would be two people meeting again for the first time.” he quotes from the past.

“and we have, we met again wonwoo but that's it. im sorry.” you softly smile turning to walk back inside.

he didn't try to stop you because you weren't wrong, you two had met now and that's all there was to it. wonwoo left and took a piece of you with him but perhaps it wasnt enough for the both of you to return to the happy times, at least not together. 

you guys met again, as two different people with two separate lives.

he inhales the cold air around him looking up to the night sky, the stars that were always filled with light had now dulled in his world and yours was only just beginning to brighten again.

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, light smut w/ more to come - college!au

wordcount ~ 1.7k

warnings ~ light smut, drinking/partying, mentions of dick?, basically just making out, feat. long hair jk :)))))

a/n ~ this is my first time posting a fic!!! costume idea inspired by @ddaenggtan‘s iconic weeb-ass jk in chasing butterflies lol, and I got the idea to write this in general from wondering what a scenario like @joonbird​‘s literally flawless fic passionfruit would be like from the opposite perspective bc I kept reading it (and rereading it...and rereading it...) and loving the connection but I’m much more like joon in that au than the reader oooop. anyway thank you to all the writers on here whose work i have loved and my friends who have encouraged me and made me bold enough to embrace such a fun new creative outlet xxx u know who u are :’)

next: chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 (coming soon!) 

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 1 ~ dress up

You never intended to end up at this Halloween party. You didn't even know who to expect to see here, other than your roommate's friend from high school, the host, who had invited y'all as a package deal even though she knew you didn't really do parties. At least not ones like hers, where every bedroom ended up occupied by the end of the night and nearly no one went home alone. Thrilled to break out of your lame group of friends for a taste of flirtation and fun, you tried to relax into the scene but the unspoken expectation of casual sex intimidated you the tiniest bit.

Speaking of casual sex, there was Jungkook.

Used to admiring him from afar in your "14 Films To See Before You Graduate" class, you paused to take in the sight of him in what you supposed was a more natural habitat. Everyone knew Jungkook got girls, thanks to the rumor his first freshman-year hookup had started about his seriously impressive dick. He had a beautiful body too, carefully crafted muscles obvious even beneath his usual baggy black clothes, so as the more intimate rumors spread and various co-signers confirmed every detail from length to curve to (you had always hated this word, but...) girth, getting a piece of all that became a badge of honor among the girls in your grade. You had never really understood how the awkward boy who hid manga under his desk in class could supposedly be such a sex symbol, but you almost felt bad for him. That kind of reputation following you around everywhere couldn't be all fun and games. If anything, though, it had intrigued you even more about the rest of him, all his little weeb quirks and the way he debated your points in the discussion boards like he actually cared. He wasn't exactly studious in general, but he clearly loved film and you enjoyed speaking up in class just to see how he would jump off of your observations. You hadn't really talked to him other than that, but he didn't seem to be talking to anyone else tonight either. From the corner, you let yourself appreciate the way his nervous hands tugged at the skinny black tie of his costume, freeing more of his throat from a thin yellow button-down shirt.

At least you no longer felt overdressed in your Nancy Drew outfit. The retro headband, brown loafers, and bookish plaid knee-length skirt set a much more sophisticated tone than most other ensembles you'd seen, but Jungkook's weeb ass had basically worn a full suit to channel Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop. With his grown-out hair tousled and a navy pinstripe jacket cinched tight with two strips of electrical tape over his tiny waist, you couldn't deny that he rocked it. He leaned against a long plastic table left in the hallway, bobbing his head to the music in the next room and adjusting the too-slim suit pants around his thick thighs. His translucent cup stayed hidden behind a hip until he raised it quickly to his face for another sip of...red wine? Probably Franzia, knowing tonight's crowd, but anything was better than beer. You made a beeline for the one boy with taste at this party, your sole mission now to get wine drunk, sneak some Usher throwbacks on this playlist, and drop it low enough to leave some dude hard on the dance floor. #wastehistime2019, yknow.

"Hey!" You got his attention, grabbing the hand with the cup before he could lower it out of view again. His eyes grew comically wide and his mouth formed an "o" in shock before you demanded "Where is the wine?" and he pressed his lips back into a line, stuttering.

"I-I-I'm sorry, I just brought a bottle because the beer here sucks but I think it's all gone by now, I tried to hide it but yeah anyway you can have the rest of this one if you want though." Wincing at his own ramble, he ruffled the retro pouf of his hair with one hand and proffered the plastic cup in another. Both actions highlighted how pretty his hands were and you were just slightly tipsy enough to thread your fingers over his in the also-pretty black waves falling over his yep-still-just-as-pretty cheekbones.

"Aw, it's okay, I don't want to take your wine. No more liquid courage for me," you grinned, dotting the lightest kiss on his nose. It was an innocent gesture, but as your face naturally lowered so your noses touched, leaving your lips centimeters away from each other, something snapped—in him.

His wine discarded on the table, a hand curled around to clutch your ass and you practically felt his tongue before you felt his lips. Slamming your body abruptly into his, he nudged a thigh between your legs to grind it up on your center and as your arm got caught between your bodies, the tension you sensed filling his frame gave you pause. You pushed him away gently but firmly with the hand already flattened against his rock-solid abs. Looking down at the slight space restored between y'all, you removed his hands from his hair and your ass and laced them in yours to guide him back against the wall.

"I...what was that?" you almost giggled. You definitely weren't trying to laugh at him, but you couldn't hide your surprise at this first potential proof of his fuckboy reputation.

"I'm—" his whole face crumpled, both from the simple sting of your seeming rejection and the possibility that he had broken a boundary or forced himself on you against your wishes, which made him so sick he could barely face you. Squirming under your light hold but not quite resisting, he rambled again: "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to force myself on you or anything, don't worry I would never try anything if you didn't want to, I just figured we might as well get to the point if you did because, uh...when girls touch me like that or even talk to me at these things it's pretty much always just because they...want to."

"Jungkook," you breathed, pulsing your hands over his in reassurance. He squeezed his eyes shut, still distraught, and when they opened, you had craned your neck to meet his averted gaze.

"I never said I didn't want to."

His eyes widened again. "Uh...uh...then..." he trailed off, never having needed to directly proposition a girl like this before. He really had been inexperienced before the rapid escalation of college, and was at a loss for how to get to the good stuff from here via anything more eloquent than a rushed "Wanna fuck?" You shook your head silently, nose grazing his again, and let go of one hand to cup his face with care, like he was something precious you were scared of breaking.

"What? You want to get right to fucking me?" you murmured into his ear. He shivered at hearing you curse for the first time, freed from the constraints of class discussions and closer than he ever guessed you'd get to him. "Is that really what you want? Or is it what you think I do? Because if it's alright, I think I want something better. For you."

You pressed a new kiss to his nose, only slightly stronger than the one that had started all this. He held his breath and his untouched, open mouth trembled as you scattered soft introductions of your lips across his forehead, to his temples, over the scar that sliced his cheekbone. Finally inhaling a skittery heave of your shared air as you passed closer to his lips, he forced it back out in frustration when you ducked away to nudge under his jaw instead. Returning your hand to his hair, you grinned, enjoying the spike in his pulse under your thumb and skipping the tip of your tongue lightly over his neck right up to the earlobe. You lifted the choppy ends of his waves away from the dangly silver hoop they hid, tensing the strands just slightly between your fingers in an inability to hide your glee. Something told you this was going to drive him crazy.

Taking a slight detour to suck his pierced lobe between your lips, you responded to Jungkook’s low moan of surprise by wedging your tongue through the first oversized hole and letting your teeth clatter over multiple rings of metal. He was trying so hard to stay pliant under you, but the tease of slight pain in a new and unusual spot made him want your mouth more, anywhere he could get it. No one had ever spent this much time tracing so few inches of skin.

And so many girls had buried his face in their necks, craving evidence of an encounter with the Jeon Jungkook, that a strange kind of empathy caught him off guard when you showed him how good it could feel to receive. You connected your lips to the hollow right under his ear, feeling the tendons stretch as his head lolled away from you. Working him through a cascade of light gasps, you stepped away satisfied once you had sucked a dark bloom to the surface. He watched you leave with his mouth agape and chest heaving, unable to believe you could just walk away with a wave and a "See you in class!"

But you did, and he would.

"Shit!" he swore, a shaky hand darting straight to the spot. Now he had to keep his hair long for at least another two or three days. If he showed up to discussion on Monday and had to watch you admiring your work on his skin, he would probably just die on the spot. And that would not be very Spike Spiegel of him.

next chapter

[echoeternally]

Mini Gift

It’s @mrnerdling‘s birthday, and I wrote up a longer story for the day. However, I also wanted to write a small thing based on another suggested pairing! So, I did, and it’s sloppy, but I tried to cram it in within like...I dunno, four hours between research and writing.

Anyway, I know extremely little about Pokémon Unite, so it’s going to be rather choppy and probably have nothing to do with the game. (I didn’t even include evolutions because that hurt my brain to consider evolving back and forth, which I think they do in Digimon, but not Pokémon.) But, hey, it was worth a shot, and I experimented.

Just a cute fic to feature some ship teasing that he should enjoy. And I hope you do too!

...

Four trainers joined together at the Aeos Island team rooms. While they carried on discussing strategies for their upcoming practice, they sent out their current selected Pokémon, allowing them to gather together while their trainers continued planning.

 Lucario folded his arms and surveyed his team, noting his usual companions in Cinderace and Slowbro. He tilted his head at the appearance of Blissey, a newcomer to the team and the island overall.

 “Huh, first of our team newcomers.” Lucario nodded. “Welcome aboard, Blissey! My trainer is the team captain, so I try my best to reflect her efforts.”

 “Oh, thanks for the welcome!” Blissey bowed her head and smiled. “It’s going to be fun getting to join everyone.” She blinked and blankly stared at the group. “To be honest though, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

 “Me neither,” mumbled Slowbro.

 “But…you’re already on this team.”

 “…I am?”

 “Don’t worry, Slowbro’ll come to life in a little while.” Cinderace rubbed his nose and smirked to Blissey. “Name’s Cinderace, and I’m part of this team too. Our trainers tried to match the variety in roles among Pokémon for this island.” He pointed at the egg in Blissey’s hands. “You’re a healer, right?”

 “Normally, yes.”

 “Right, so there are a few different types of roles for each of us,” went over Lucario. “Since you have a focus on healing, that makes you our team’s new Support member. Slowbro can make strong blocks, so he’s our team Defender.” He pointed at Cinderace. “Since he’s fiery and likes to battle, Cinderace is our Attacker.” Lucario rubbed behind his head. “We’re supposed to have someone that’s quick around the field, who is the team Speedster. I suppose you’ll meet him later.” Lucario shrugged. “As someone that tries to cover multiple roles in one, I do my best to be the All-Around type on our team.”

 “Wow.” Blissey brightly smiled. “This already sounds complicated. I love it!”

 “It takes a bit, but you’ll get into it after a few rounds,” offered Cinderace. “Since we’re just practicing today, though, I don’t imagine it’ll be too rough on you.” He stretched and winked to her. “Basically, we just need to worry about scoring more points than the other team, and that’s the idea of the game.”

 “Each role helps determine how well we perform,” brought up Lucario. “So, with that, we’ll let the rest get resolved on the field.”

 “Ooh, my trainer is calling me over that way,” pointed out Blissey. “What do we do by the benches?”

 “…Wait for your turn to practice, I guess,” determined Cinderace, glancing at Lucario who shrugged.

 “Neat!” Blissey wandered off from the group. “I still don’t get any of this!”

 “Well, waiting won’t help much,” mumbled Cinderace. “…Huh. Hey, Slowbro, they’re calling you over too.”

 “…Who?”

 “Your trainer, knucklehead.”

 “Oh, ok.” Slowbro blinked and then slowly waddled down the same direction that Blissey had gone in.

 “Guess they want to focus on offensive plays first,” suggested Cinderace. “If those two are sitting on the sidelines, that means it’s you, me, and whoever the newbie is when they get jump in.”

 “That makes sense, since we’ll need to learn covering the field.” Lucario tapped on his chin and nodded. “Ok, so, practices today are mostly relying on us getting Aeos Energy to score points. If we’re doing some offense training to start, that’s the main goal to focus on.”

 “Are we just going on the field as is?”

 “Yep, going right into it.”

 “Huh, should be fun.” Cinderace grinned and lifted a thumb up to Lucario. “Want to see who can score the most points between us two? New guy will probably figure it out and join in.”

 “We do need to work on strategies too.”

 “Where’s the fun if we’re only working and not bringing out the best of each other?” Cinderace slid closer to Lucario, patting his head and nudging him. “Come on, huh? Let’s have some fun with this!”

 “Well…it is technically part of our exercises, tallying high scores—”

 “Aha, knew you’d see it my way!”

 “Just don’t get too carried away,” requested Lucario. He frowned and looked over as Blissey tried talking with Slowbro, who vacantly stared off around the meeting room. “Last time, you knocked Slowbro too hard on the head, and now he seems like he’s back to basics.” Lucario lowered his eyes as he watched Slowbro drool, while Blissey chattered on. “…Or worse, actually.”

 “Coach, you’re thinking way too hard.”

 “Don’t call me that.”

 “Why not? You basically are!” Cinderace jogged in place, getting his feet warmed up. “Going to roll some heads on the field and get the highest scores like you wouldn’t believe!”

 “Do you ever turn over the competitor in you?”

 “Nope!”

 “Well, that does help us.” Lucario shrugged and smiled. “Come on, let’s get ourselves ready.”

 “You’re so cute when you’ve got a big work ethic going,” teased Cinderace, leaning over Lucario’s head.

 “Get off.”

 “Make me.”

 After chasing his teammate to the practice field, Lucario lined up with Cinderace at the starting gate. Their trainers readied their supply of Aeos Island balls, ready to capture the wild Pokémon that their partners battled against. The two trainers were joined by a third, who hurriedly sent their choice to the field as they set the practice timer.

 However, the purple gates opened, and Lucario raced off alongside Cinderace.

 “Try to keep up, Luca!”

 “Don’t call me that either!”

 Laughing, Cinderace hurried up the northern route, while Lucario traveled down the southern side. Kicking streams of fire and sliding past his opponents, Cinderace swept at the wild Aipom and Audino. His trainer from the sidelines collected Aeos Energy from the capture.

 “Nice and easy,” cheered Cinderace. “They better get that Speedster straight to work to catch up with me!”

 “Might as well, you’re right!”

 Blinking and halting from the new voice, Cinderace turned around as a yellow blur rushed past him. A loud clap rang out, as lightning bolts danced through the air and zapped at the wild Pokémon nearby.

 The striker rabbit watched as the blur raced around, snatching more Aeos Energy before running for a hoop. Jumping up, the thunderclap cat slammed in a ball of energy, scoring points for the corresponding trainer.

 Setting down, Cinderace gawked as the cat beamed to him.

 “Hey there, sorry for the interruption introduction,” called the newcomer. “I’m Zeraora, and I’m your team’s latest Speedster!” He swiped below his nose. “Heard that we’re having a little contest of our own, so I hope you don’t mind me joining in.”

 Slowly nodding, Cinderace looked the yellow cat up and down, impressed at just the sight alone. Watching him run around once again, Cinderace flailed around, trying to attack the wild Pokémon to score more energy.

 However, Zeraora’s speed helped him collect bits of energy from the ground and take down emerging Pokémon faster than Cinderace could keep up with.

 Knocking enough energy into the goal, Zeraora grinned as it faded, and spun around to Cinderace, winking to him.

 “Check it out! We scored a load of points on this one.” He waved. “Come on, cutie, let’s see if you can keep up!”

 “Wow, I think this is how I sound to Lucario,” mumbled the flushed face Cinderace. “…Why doesn’t he like me even more?”

 Both rushed to the next goal, knocking more energy into it. Lucario had chased an evasive Audino over, and was able to help his trainer capture them for Aeos Energy. Once that was done, however, Lucario gawked as Zeraora raced past him, jumping up and slamming more energy into the nearby goal.

 “Wait, what?” Lucario fumbled back and stared up at the cat hanging from the hoop. “Are you the new speedster?”

 “Nice, you’re the team captain!” Zeraora grinned. “They told me you’d be handsome, and they weren’t kidding!” He dropped down and ran for the next wild Pokémon. “Come on, little guy! Let’s see if you can keep up with me!”

 “…He’s like Cinderace, but worse,” muttered Lucario as he blushed.

 As they continued scoring points, practice time ticked away and ran out. Checking over the final scores, Lucario gawked at how high Zeraora’s score was, in spite his late start. Cinderace had scored the lowest, which was quite unusual for him. Turning for the rabbit, Lucario raised an eyebrow, as Cinderace shrugged and gazed back to Zeraora, beaming from his results.

 “Ha, check it out!” Zeraora placed a hand on his hip. “Didn’t think I’d score so high, but you guys made competing pretty fun. I think we’ll make a strong combination!” He winked to his teammates and wandered toward the exit. “I wonder who else is on this team? I think they were both pink…”

 “Well…at least he’s fast,” decided Lucario.

 “He’s amazing, and I have to know more,” rambled off Cinderace.

 “Look in the mirror.”

 “He’s even better than me!”

 “That’s not what I—”

 “Best newbie ever!” Cinderace hurried after him. “Hey, Zera! Tell me more about yourself! Like, everything!”

 Rolling his eyes, Lucario slapped a paw over his head and dragged it down. Sighing, he followed his teammates out from the first practice field, looking to join them for the next session.

 Though Zeraora enjoyed chatting with Cinderace, he would steal glances to Lucario and grin to him, making the captain blush.

 This was certainly going to be a new dynamic for them.

...

Whoosh, there it is!

Yeah, I did my best while hurrying it along. This wasn’t the original gift idea, but I wanted to include both ideas sent to me.

Since I normally write like medieval Pokémon, or otherwise normal stuff where they battle and such, I decided to try following another game, and went with one that all three leads appear in, which was the latest game.

Even though I’ve never touched it, so maybe that wasn’t the best idea, but oh well! That’s what research is for. (Also, there’s other stuff that I didn’t get to touch on about Unite, but alas.)

If I had more time, I’d probably write more, but this is it for this one. Hope you enjoyed the quick bit!

[zirkkun]

Something Lost

Something Lost (Undertale Fanfic - T-rating by AO3 standards)

+ sans & gender neutral reader/UT player (third person omniscient POV) 

+  3985 words, english

+ hurt/comfort, mostly a rant fic i made when i was feeling like crap the other day

+ takes place in the Underground right after the barrier is broken but before they go to the surface

+ “Toriel has been messaging the human who broke the barrier for a while, but begins to grow worried when they stop being marked as read. The human went on a walk, as their monster friends suggested, but hasn't been back for a very long time. Sans offers to go look for them.”

+ AO3 link

"Sans, I don't think my texts have been read for quite a long time... Do you think something happened to them?"

He shrugged, hands stuffed in his pockets as he glanced to the cell phone screen displayed before his eyes. "Couldn't tell ya. Should I go find them?"

The goat-like, motherly figure holding her cell phone grinned sheepishly, eyes speaking a guilty frown for bringing it up as she brushed her ear over her shoulder. "You don't have to if you don't want to, Sans, but if you feel it's necessary..."

"Don't sweat it, Tori, it won't take that long." He returned to her as genuine of a smile as he could muster. "They couldn't have gone too far, right? 'sides, even Snowdin is only like a 20 minute walk at best." The Underground wasn't all that large, relatively speaking. Of course, it being the only thing he'd experienced, it's not like he had much to compare it to.

Not yet, anyway. Sans didn't want to admit it, because he had this gut feeling he was getting overexcited for some reason, but the idea of seeing the Surface for the first time was leading him to feel happier than he had felt in a very long time. While he didn't want to pressure the human who made it possible for them by rushing them to leave... he couldn't wait to leave. So he didn't mind going to look for them to ease Tori's nerves. Did he have any idea as to where they were? Nope.

Sans started walking towards the wall, to Toriel's confusion, but in a Sans-like manner disappeared through a shortcut to Snowdin Town. Based on the amount of time that had passed since the human had left, this was the farthest they could have gone, Sans assumed.

The town was livelier than ever: people gathering their things, talking amongst themselves, some folks even taking in the snowy sights for the very last time. Sans didn't notice, but the grin on his face had become just a little more genuine, giddy with excitement. He fidgeted with the fabric of his sweatshirt pockets, hand still stuffed inside.

It was when he was beginning to walk towards his own house when he heard crying.

Reaching for the doorknob, he stopped in his tracks. The soft weeping was almost inaudible compared to the joy from the rest of townspeople. Sans let his hand fall back to his side as he jumped off the steps to his house, listening for the source of the sobbing. Light footsteps trailed all the way to the back of his house, leading to a person sitting right before the locked back door.

It was the human.

Their knees were pulled up to their chest, held up by crossed arms, with their face buried in it all in a failed attempt to cover their crying. They had tucked themself into the corner between the locked door and the back wall of the house, only just barely not in the snow covering most of the back walkway.

Sans hadn't expected to come across this. At worst, he had been expecting to find the human had just gotten lost for some reason or another. Amongst everyone's excitement, he didn't think he'd find them crying. He didn't know what to do. He knew he wasn't the best person for comfort, but at the same time, he didn't want to leave them here in this state either.

He knocked on the side of his house twice. "Knock, knock," he said.

The human jolted, crying stopping for a brief moment as they swung their head back up from their lap. Soaked, red eyes met Sans's eyelights, panic-stricken and worried. "Wh -- Sans, I didn't -- when did you --"

"C'mon now, the correct response is 'who's there?'" Sans teased.

The human sniffled, raising an eyebrow. "Who's there...?" they responded, puzzled by his response.

"Boo."

"Boo who?"

"Hey, no reason to be cryin' now, buddy." The human chuckled half-heartedly at the punchline as Sans sat down on the ground next to them. "What's eatin' at ya? I came to find you 'cause Tori was a little worried you hadn't messaged in a while," he explained. "Didn't expect to see you like this, though."

A heavy frown overwhelming their expression, the human didn't respond for quite a long time. Sans didn't pry, he merely waited. The silence allowed for the echo of the townsfolk's joyous chatter between them. It drilled into the human's ears, hurting them more with every happy phrase they heard. Tears started streaming down their face once again without their control. Through choppy breaths, they finally caved and explained.

"I don't want to go back."

Sans expected there to be a bit more explanation, but frankly, he wasn't sure he'd have been able to respond properly even if there was one. He didn't know what to say. The human spent all this time trying to get to the end of their journey, breaking the barrier and everything, but they didn't even want to go back home? He tried to make sense of it, but even with his "not wanting to do anything other than stay home and do what's normal for him" logic found this to be nothing but a backwards mindset.

"What makes you say that?" he replied instead.

"The Surface is horrible," the human responded immediately, hatred lacing their voice. "I don't want to live there anymore. It's just..." They sucked in a harsh breath, hastily wiping freezing tears from their eyes. "I can't do anything there. Everything I was ever told was a lie, and all that anyone ever tells me now is that I have to suck it up and adjust to the same life everyone else has. I thought I could do more than that. I thought I'd be able to enjoy life. But it seems my only option is to fall into the same trap everyone else has..." They took a deep breath, facing Sans without meeting his eyes, a false smile plastered across their cheeks. "Do you know why I jumped? Why I fell down here in the first place?" Their gaze was defeated. "I didn't want to continue. I had given up. But when I woke up, alive..." The human violently shook their head as they threw their head back into their lap, heaving a few more heavy sobs.

Sans was at a loss. He didn't know what to say or do. Should he say something comforting? Try and give them a hug? Were they even okay with hugs? He didn't know. He really wished anyone else besides him were here right now -- they deserved someone better than him to try and cheer up with. He stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets, watching the human crying before him and not doing anything at all. Just when he went to say something, they tipped up their head and spoke up again.

"I don't know if you remember, but when you guys were corrupted by Asriel's strength and just saying your worst thoughts... you kind of said a similar thing. 'Just give up. I did.'" Sans was taken aback at the remark -- he didn't remember saying that, and frankly, the thought of confessing such a thing to someone struck fear into his Soul. "But... The only thing keeping me going down here was you guys. The monsters. You've all been trapped down here for so long... You guys don't deserve that fate. You deserve to have the world. You've been nothing but kind to me, no matter what I've said, you're all just so kind to me, and I don't deserve it." Their voice cracked as they continued, sniffling a bit beforehand. "When Undyne said that you guys needed one more Soul to break the barrier, I knew what I had to do. I had to see Asgore. I wanted him to take my Soul and free you all... but he wouldn't do it. As I refused to attack, merely begging for him to take my life for the sake of you all... He wouldn't accept it. He refused my mercy and I had to attack him. I d-didn't want to, I just wanted to save you guys... But in doing so, now I'm still alive. I helped you guys, but I'm still here! And you're all still so nice to me!" The human broke down again.

It felt wrong to merely reply to such a rant with something so menial as "sorry," but Sans couldn't think of anything to say. He'd given up on a lot of things, sure, but the thought of giving up on your own life so much that you'd give it to someone else for their sake...? He'd never even considered it. Though, he supposed, he never had a reason to consider it. It's not like his sacrifice would be good for anything, anyway. He took a quiet breath, trying to fake confidence and assurance before even attempting to say anything. With his usual grin, he started, "What makes you think you have to die for things to get better for us? I think most of us woulda been pretty upset if we got to the Surface without you."

The human tipped up their head, brow furrowed with confusion. "What are you talking about? You guys barely know me."

"Yeah, and you barely know us, but were willing to sacrifice everything for our sake. What's the difference?"

Their gaze fell to the snowy ground. "B-but, that's different. Cause I mean, I don't have anything left... my only choices left in life remaining are things I never want to do. You guys didn't have any choices available other than what was down here... so I wanted to give you guys the chance to make more decisions."

"And who's to say that you have to go back to your old life now that you opened the way to the Surface?" Sans remarked. "You didn't have us before, but now ya do. And I'm sure everyone would love to keep ya around. That seems like a pretty different path from most humans, if I had to guess."

The human fell silent, almost as if they were trying to reason with their own sadness to make it make sense. Yes, they had a different path now that they made monster friends, but that doesn't mean they won't be forced into a nine-to-five job, right? That they'd still wake up every morning feeling like they just wanted to go back to sleep? That they'd still be too drained after every normal task to even so much as take a break for themself and their passions? The path will just continue, even with friends. It didn't matter. Their choices didn't matter. Everything just happens. They couldn't even die by their own decision.

The human jumped out of their skin when they felt a gentle touch on their shoulder. Sans retracted his hand immediately, arms raised in surrender. "Heh, sorry, just thought that might help? I'm not great at this sort of thing," he confessed. The human just shook their head, not really sure what to say in response. Why was he trying so hard to help? Why didn't he leave when he saw you like this? Why was everyone being so nice to someone they'd barely met?

"Why haven't you left yet?" they mumbled.

Sans blinked. He hadn't prepared for that question. Then again, he didn't come prepared for any of this. He let his hands fall back to his sides, offering the best smile he could muster, and said, "Why would I? I'm not just gonna leave ya here to cry by yourself."

"It's probably for the better. I'll get over it eventually. You guys don't deserve to waste your time on me. I shouldn't be anyone's concern." The human scrunched up into a tighter ball. "Eveyone else is ignoring me. You should too. Just go back and tell Toriel I'll be fine. I'll come back eventually."

"Hm, nah, don't think I will," Sans replied. "She'll just worry more if I do that."

"Then just go do something else."

"Still not gonna."

"Why?" the human hissed, snapping their head up to face him. Their eyes were red with both fury and fear at the same time, tears outlining both equally. "Go do something else! Don't just sit here and listen to me complain about my shitty life! You've got stuff to pack, right? Go do that! Don't waste your time on me."

He didn't know what to say, honestly, but he knew he shouldn't leave. Sans could only see himself in the human before him, wondering if this is how Papyrus felt every time he'd walked in on Sans breaking down. But the problem was that Sans isn't Papyrus: he's not good at being positive no matter what, he's not good at reassuring people even when he's sure hope is lost, he's not good at knowing exactly what to say. Well, if anything, he knew he could understand where the human was coming from. Empathy was a fair enough start as any, right?

"Hey, buddy. You don't need to keep isolating your feelings 'n' stuff like you're the only one who feels that way. 'cause I can tell you for sure that you're not," he started. "I don't like doin' a lot of normal stuff either. Working, cooking, it's all just not fun. I never cook, I just have someone else do it for me. And I always do the minimal at work, since it's so boring bein' by myself for so long, so I'm usually out doing anything but what I'm suppose to."

"That's not the same," the human snapped. "You're still able to do what you want without feeling drained. Everything I do makes me feel so tired, but if I don't catch myself back up to everyone else soon enough, I'll just fall flat. I'll be homeless, on the streets, unable to do anything for myself. I'll probably die anyway."

"C'mon, that's not true. You're not gonna die. You've got people here to back you up," Sans tried to reassure. "I know Tori was sayin' something earlier about you movin' in with her, and I'm sure she'd be more than willing to help you get back on your feet. Or, if that doesn't work out, you could crash with my bro and I. I'm sure Papyrus would be ecstatic at the idea."

"Why?" the human asked. "Why do you want to put up with me an inconvenience yourself?"

"I think it's called 'helping,' bud."

The human fell silent. They'd run out of reasoning to justify their sadness. "Well, don't do that either! Helping me just wastes your time!"

"I mean, it sure didn't. You broke the barrier, buddy. I don't think that woulda happened if none of us down here had helped you along the way."

Tears stumbled from the human's eyes. Their logic was lost. "No -- that's -- different! That's different!! It's not... it's not... ..." They sucked in a harsh breath. "Fuck! No! Stop! Just! Leave me alone! Go help yourself! I don't deserve it! I'll figure something out! Don't waste your time on me!"

Sans sat silently as he let the loud, harsh words slam into him. The human had gone past sadness and was now deeper into fear, panic painting their face. They sniffled with hiccuped breathing, clenching their grasp around their knees even tighter than before. They pushed themselves closer into the house's side, as if trying to get as far away from Sans as possible.

He... didn't know what to say anymore. Had he said something wrong? Done something to hurt them? Did the human just happen to hate him, so no matter what he said it was going to send them spiralling into this deeper hole of despair? But it's not like he could leave now. That seemed the absolute worst option. It's not like he had a gut instinct to listen to either -- without having a gut, it was kinda hard to do that. Ugh, even he knew that this wasn't the time for even internal jokes.

Sans got up from sitting next to the human and instead sat in front of them so he could face them more directly... ignoring the fact that their face was still buried in their knees. He took a quiet deep breath, and tried his very damnedest to sound sincere. "Hey," he whispered. "It's gonna be alright, ok? I don't know what you've been through before but... You don't have to do it alone anymore, got it? You've got us. We're here for ya now. Tori, Undyne, Pap, Alphys, me; we've got your back, ok? We want to help you. You helped us, haven't you? Seems fair enough to want to help you in return."

The human didn't respond at first. They just kept crying. Sans wasn't even entirely sure they heard him at first, until they lifted their head up and instead rested their chin on their knees. They didn't meet his gaze. "I don't understand..." they muttered.

"You don't really have to, I don't understand a lot of things either, bud."

Their lip quivered, trying to hold back another outburst. "I... I..."

"C'mon, everyone's waiting for you, y'know. We're all excited to go to the Surface with you." It was Sans's last offer. He'd run out of things to say. Maybe if he could bring them back to the group, they'd feel a bit better, surrounded by people who knew what to say much better than he did. He offered out his hand, with intention of helping them stand upright again. The human stared at it for a long while. For a brief second, they glanced up to Sans's eyes, the bright eyelights offering as much gentle reassurance as he could manage.

They let go of the grip on their knees, letting their legs fall, laying straight out to either side of them. They went to grab his hand, but hesitated. They weren't ready to face everyone yet, not in this state. They didn't want to face everyone while they were still crying. It was already bad enough that Sans had found them this way, but they were fairly sure he wouldn't just go mocking their tears around to everyone -- well, maybe he would, he did make a lot of jokes. They hesitated even more.

Sans didn't move or prod them. He just waited.

"I..." they muttered. "Sans, I... I can't go back yet. Not like this. I don't want to worry everyone else. Because... I've been crying..."

Sans dropped his hand. "That's ok. Then I'll wait here with you."

The human could feel their heart race with embarrassment, guilty over his decision to stay. "Y-you don't have to."

"Yeah, but I kinda want to. We could even go in my house if ya want, it is cold out here after all."

They violently shook their head. "No, it's fine."

"Ya sure?"

"Yes."

"Alrighty then," he finalized. Sans slid back to his spot next to the human, back leaning against the metal door behind him. "Then we'll stay here."

The human stared at the ground for a while and their arms resting on their lap. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this," they mumbled.

"Why sorry?" he asked.

"I - I dunno, like, because... I've been crying. You guys are so excited to go to the Surface, and here I am, bawling my eyes out over the fact that I don't want to go back. Am I really doing everything for you guys if I can't even be there for you at the moment of your dreams?"

"You're allowed to be afraid of stuff, y'know. Not everyone's got the same hopes and dreams, right? Isn't that why you're so scared to go back, because you don't wanna do the same stuff as everyone else, because it strays from your own desires?" Sans proclaimed. "That's alright though. People help other people. Or at least we try. Sometimes it doesn't really work out. But nobody good wants to see other people upset." He paused, turning his head to face them"Lemmie ask you a question," Sans continued. "What do you want to do?"

The human paused. "I... I don't know. But I can't keep doing the things the way I have been. It's killing me. I..." They sniffled again, trying to hold back more tears as they continued. "I don't want to die, Sans."

"Aw, geez, bud, I didn't mean for you to start cryin' again. Sorry, I shouldn't've said anything," Sans apologized. But the human merely shook their head in response, an oddly timed smile poking from the corners of their lips.

"It's fine," they grinned. "I'll be okay." They took some deep breaths, trying to catch up on what was lost and slow down their bawling so they wouldn't start crying for another twenty or so minutes.

Sans didn't know what to do. He was firmly ready to patiently wait there for the human to sit for as long as they needed, but he just felt the need to do something to help them. If he kept talking, he was worried that he'd make them cry again. He was used to being able to hug Papyrus when he was crying, but since the human jolted from so much as a pat on the shoulder, he was convinced that was out of the question. He supposed he could ask, but if they said no, then it'd just be really awkward, so maybe he'll just wait and see if they prompt for it instead. Even still, he wasn't sure what to do.

The human sat in complete silence, focusing on their breathing and remaining as calm as they could. They tried thinking about anything other than the worries on their mind: they stared at the snow on the ground, daydreaming about the snowmen they'd made during the winter back home as a kid. They listened to the cheerful chitchatter amongst the Snowdin townspeople as they were excited to leave for the Surface, remembering the times they packed up and moved from their hometown, ecstatic to go someplace new. They listened to the rustling pine trees, once again finding themself in the the forest of pines near their home. They felt tranquility for a moment, closing their eyes as they started to think again on anything other than their current fears and warnings.

Sans was merely staring off into the distance. His mind had sort of wandered elsewhere, wondering about what he'd eat later when they got to the Surface -- would human food taste any different? He'd heard it was supposed to be solid food rather than magic. He wondered if humans still used magic, even. But, despite his hungry thoughts, he couldn't shake off the internal excitement he had for finally seeing the one thing he'd been waiting to see his whole life: the night sky. Maybe it was cliché, as so many monsters shared the same dream of seeing the stars, but he couldn't help it. His own curiosity got the best of him. Written records of descriptions and old photographs of vague dots in blackness just weren't enough. But now, he'd get to see it. He'd finally get to see it.

He snapped awake from his thoughts as something fell onto his shoulder. He whipped his head to the left, seeing the human had fallen asleep at his side. Tension dropped immediately, and instead he merely chuckled. "Geez, buddy, you really wore yourself out today, haven't you?" He couldn't imagine living out the long day the human had today. They'd fallen down this morning, and by nightfall, they broke down the barrier. It didn't seem right to wake them up, despite the fact that he definitely should have. Instead, he just leaned his head against theirs, and started taking a nap of his own.

[secretobsessionstuff]

Could I request a fic with your sweetest, softest male character? He has a really terrible stomach flu (fever, shivering, cramps, cant stop throwing up or retching even when he's empty) and is trying his best to hide it from his friends-- maybe afraid of being a bother. Bonus points for eventual comfort and lots of belly rubs.

Dude this is such a good request! I love when characters hide being sick!! thank you. This ended up being rather long, for me anyway, so I couldn’t add in everything you wanted. But I would be willing to write a second part to this fic if anyone was interested. 

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

Alexi felt disgusting, but he looked pretty darn good for someone running a 102.2F temperature. He didn’t have much choice; it was either admit to feeling like absolute garbage, thus ruining the whole day for his friends, or keep up the façade and pretend that his eyes weren’t melting inside their sockets.

So yes, Alexi looked perfectly normal…he hoped. Though his cheeks were flushed, the convention center was insanely hot and crowded for anyone to think something was wrong. He just pushed through the mass of people, knowing that in such tight quarters he was spreading his flu…well like the plague.

It felt like the plague anyhow. His head was throbbing, as if his brain were trying to escape through his ears; that unnatural chill that only came from a fever was causing goose bumps to pop up all over his arms and down his back; and his belly was roiling.

As Madix, Riley, and Micah were all waiting in line to get pictures with obscure, second choice and therefore affordable actors, Alexi snuck away to the bathroom for what felt like the billionth time that day. By noon, he was very aware of where every single bathroom was located in the building.

This trip to the toilet was like all the others. He locked himself in a stall and gave himself permission to express the pain he felt clear across his face. Hugging his aching stomach, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take slow breaths through his mouth. Alexi had no way of knowing how high his temperature had gotten since that morning, but he could tell he was feeling worse. Breakfast was sitting heavily in his gut which he knew wasn’t going to be there for much longer.

The nausea was intense, so much so that he needed to brace himself against the stall walls to keep himself upright. This time he was lucky that there was no line to get into the bathroom, because he felt dangerously close to seeing partially digested waffles fill the toilet. Alexi’s Adam's apple was bobbing up and down like a buoy on the choppy ocean. He continuously swallowed down waves of saliva. As he shoved the bottom of his palms into his eyes, his knees gave up and he slumped to the tile flooring.

With his elbows on the dirty toilet seat, he spat sticky tendrils into the bowl. Deep and guttural burps echoed in the small space around him, and could probably be heard by every other person in that bathroom, but he couldn’t find the effort to care.

A gag suddenly took him, and he found himself leaning into the toilet, prepared to catch anything his stomach was going to send up. His jaw felt tingly and heavy, but still nothing came up but wet belches. One harsh heave interrupted the burps, but it was dry. The second heave came soon after and this one was much wetter. It brought up gush of thick pale vomit that made Alexi shiver as it rushed up his throat. Tears leaked from his eyes from his eyes and his arms felt weak as they supported his body. A deep groan was heard from his stall as Alexi flushed the toilet and left while rubbing his face. The few stares from the witnesses didn’t bother him, not while his stomach was bothering him so much more.

Alexi returned to the line after having cleaned himself up. He washed his hands, gargled water in his mouth, and splashed his face so that he didn’t look so ashen and sweaty. Of course, as he met back up with his friends, a new wave of sweat had broken out across his nose and a new chill shot down his back. He wrapped his arms around themselves, partly to stay warm and partly to hide the goose flesh that any sane person would question in this scorching room.

Alexi ducked under the rope and joined his friends halfway through the line. He plastered his happy-go-lucky smile on his face and said something random. That was one of the downsides of always being chatty and bright – it was so much more obvious when something was wrong.

His boyfriend seemed to relax slightly once Alexi had returned. Micah took Alexi’s hand and swung it against their legs. He gave Alexi a quick peck on the cheek, but he moved away rather slowly. The smallest trace of worry crept across Micah’s features, though it dissipated as soon as Madix changed the topic of conversation.

The lineup took ages. Thankfully, it gave Alexi time to rest. He wanted so badly to sit down but he knew that would draw attention to himself. So, he stayed standing, shifting his weight back and forth on his legs. Alexi soon rested his chin on Micah’s shoulder, hoping that it came across as boredom and not fatigue.

Micah gave him a strange look. Though before he could question it, Alexi excused himself to the bathroom once more. As he turned to leave, Micah grabbed his wrist.

“You just went, Lexi,” Micah remarked. “Besides it’s almost our turn.”

“I know, but I’ve been drinking a lot of water.” Alexi looked around nervously. “I’ll be quick I promise.”

Alexi wasn’t quick. In fact, he stayed in the bathroom even while the three other boys got their pictures, autographs, and merch. Micah was getting worried. As the three of them left the line, Micah’s eyes were darting in all direction, looking for his boyfriend. There weren’t even any bathrooms in sight.

“Micah, slow down,” Riley said as he struggled to keep up with his cousin. Madix was trailing behind as well.

Micah bit his lip worriedly. They were stopped in the middle of the room, with booths and people all around them. “We have to find Alexi. He won’t know where we are.”

Madix urged the group to the side of the room where the likelihood of being trampled was far less great. “He has been gone a long time. Is he okay?”

“I don’t know.” Micah started to chew on his thumbnail. “I’m gonna go look for him, you guys stay here so we can meet back up.”  

Micah embarked on his mission. He pushed through slow walkers and squeezed past people in amazing yet impeding cosplay. The first bathroom he saw was his destination. He made a beeline for it, and just as he came upon the door, Alexi emerged. He hadn’t spotted Micah yet. Micah noticed the way his boyfriend held his stomach and the way he staggered slightly as he walked. He called out to him.

Alexi jumped, but quickly composed himself. Before the pair could head back into the madness of the con, Micah pulled Alexi to the wall.

“You were gone forever, Alexi.” Micah said, sounding a bit annoyed, though he changed his tone to something softer as he carried on. “What’s going on? Are you feeling alright?”

Alexi slumped his shoulder against the wall. Apparently, he wasn’t so good at hiding his pain. In that moment, he was sure that his face was sickly green and betrayed the truth of how he was feeling. The sour taste of vomit was fresh on his tongue, but he tried to ignore that while he spoke. Micah didn’t need to know that he was throwing up, because then he would surely make them all go home, and Alexi couldn’t do that. They’d all been waiting a year for this con. He could keep up the semblance of health.

Alexi’s face turned red. “My stomach was a little upset, but it’s better now.” That was lie…but Micah didn’t know that. In truth, Alexi’s stomach was killing him. He would have loved for Micah to take him home.

“You sure? It’s okay if you need more time, I was just worried before.”

“Yeah I’m sure, let’s go.”

“Okay…” Micah said hesitantly. He wasn’t entirely convinced, especially with the way Alexi was holding his belly, but he didn’t want to press the matter and make Alexi embarrassed.

It was easy enough to find Madix and Riley. They were pulled off to the side of the room, casually watching the cosplayers walk by and gawking at their favourite characters come to life.

When Alexi approached them, he looked less alive than he had seconds ago. His belly was still so upset, despite having just thrown up; apparently, he rushed himself a bit too much. He stumbled to the wall and caught himself, narrowly stopping his aching head from colliding with drywall.

“Whoa Alexi,” Riley said, reaching his hand out to grab his friend’s shoulder, “you look rough.”

Madix got closer as well, which Alexi wasn’t too thrilled about considering that he was pretty sure he was about to heave his stomach into his hands.

Madix looked back and forth between Alexi and Micah, wondering if Micah had noticed his boyfriend’s state. “Lex, you look like you’re about to pass out. Your face is grey.”

Micah wanted to jump in and relieve Alexi of everyone staring at him, but he really did look awful. Perhaps it was worse than what Alexi was letting on. “Babe, I thought you were feeling better. Tell us what’s wrong so we can help.”

As if he were drunk, Alexi’s vision darkened and he swayed where he stood. There was no denying it now, not when his friends were interrogating him like this. “I feel awful,” he admitted, while dragging his back down the wall and sitting on the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest and groaned.

At the same time, the three other boys all crouched down as well. When Alexi’s eyes focused, he found both Micah and Madix staring at him worriedly. But they were so close, too close. He only wanted Micah. Just Micah and no one else. He wanted to be away from all the noise, the people talking, the bright lights, the crowds.

He put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I tried to ignore it, but my stomach is a mess, I can’t stop throwing up, my head is killing me, my –”

Micah put his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “What! You threw up?”

Alexi nodded miserably.

“Oh Alexi,” Madix added, “you should have said something.” He gave a sympathetic look to the sick boy, seeing the way his nose dripped with sweat.

Madix instinctively reached his hand up to touch Alexi’s forehead, then paused with his hand hovering halfway in the air. “May I?”

Alexi nodded weakly, already aware of what Madix was going to find. His golden curls were brushed back by Madix’s cool hand that felt nice against his burning skin. He leaned into the touch, momentarily letting someone else support the weight of his head.

“Shit, man.” Madix pulled his hand away slowly. “You’re on fire. No wonder you feel like crap.”

Alexi moaned and curled in on himself. “I feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

“Yeah, we’re going home right now,” Micah said decidedly. “Lexi, can you stand?”

Alexi probably could not have stood up in that moment, but he didn’t need to try because it was then that his stomach decided to spasm again. He retched emptily at first, succeeding only in making his body lurch forward. Everyone took a step back out of shock, and everyone except Riley moved back to keep Alexi from falling forward.

The second heave burst from his chest, sending up a thick wave of vomit that covered his legs and dripped down his chin. Alexi choked out a sob and squeezed his eyes shut as a felt his stomach do another flip. By this point, Micah was rubbing his back and muttering something sweet he couldn’t hear. Blood was pulsing in his ears, making him dizzy and drowning out any attempt at comforting him.

God, he felt so sick. His stomach continued to contract painfully, even when he had nothing left to throw up. He clutched at his chest while he heaved dryly in the crowded room. Thankfully, Micah and Madix were partially covering him from view. This privacy, however, did nothing to lessen the gut churning sensation in felt in the pit of his stomach.

By the time he finished, his cheeks were streaked with tears, his chest was tight, and his hands were shaking. The worst part was that he still felt like hell.

Micah was soothingly brushing his hair away from his face. “Alright, take it easy, babe. Try to catch your breath.”

“I feel so sick,” he moaned while looking at the mess drying on his crotch. “I want to go home.”

“I know you do.” Micah said, still gently massaging Alexi’s head. “Madix and Riley went to find the car, so you don’t have to walk as far.”

Alexi wanted to thank his boyfriend. He wanted to apologize for being sick. He wanted to do so many things, but he couldn’t even keep his head from lolling around. He simply closed his eyes and wished for the day to be over. He wished to be lying in bed while Micah played with his hair. If it was any consolation, part of that wish came true. 

[someonefantastic]

I think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks

Huh, another fic where people get lost in the woods. I think I'm mourning the fact that it's cold now and I can't go outside comfortably. Anyways, I love this girl gang and I hope we get more of them in the third movie! Summary: Marlowe, Selene, and Juliet are trying to make their way to safety. It's made particularly difficult by the fact that one of them has been drugged. Warnings: non consensual drug use, nausea, small LCH spoilers also on ao3 ___ "O’Hara, so help me, I’m going to kill you.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing one arm over her chest. “Look Carlton, this wasn’t my idea. You think I wanted to bring your and Gus’ wives along?”

"If anything happens to my wife…” His tone was sharp but after so many years of familiarity, she recognized the worry underneath. He sighed. "I trust you, Juliet, just keep them safe.”

“Don’t worry, nothing is going to happen to them.” She left out the part where they had already been in a fight, receiving multiple scrapes and bruises, and the part where some lowlife had stuck her with a syringe, injecting her with who knows what. Thankfully the drugs hadn’t kicked in yet but she knew she was just buying time until they did.

After finishing up her conversation and hanging up, she eyed her companions. Marlowe had proved pretty effective in a fight, her time in prison having apparently taught her some skills. Who knew she still carried a shiv in her boot? Selene wasn’t too bad either, if push came to shove, she could throw one heck of a punch. Though that didn’t mean Juliet felt any better being stuck with them.

Sure they were close, Selene was her best friend and she and Marlowe had bonded a lot during Lassiter’s recovery. Whenever they were all in one place they made sure to have some girl time. But… neither of them had any police training. They were technically civilians, and if that wasn’t stressful enough, they were also her friends and the wives of two people who meant a lot to her. She would die for them if she had to- she just hopped it wouldn’t come to that.

Noticing that she was done with her phone call, Marlowe spoke up, “What did Carlton say?”

“Well, he’s annoyed that we were able to find the Camino’s compound before him.”

At that, Selene laughed, “Wow we did better than the Chief of Police. Suck it, Lassie.” Marlowe shot her a look and she smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, got carried away.”

“Anyways,” Juliet continued, “Since we’re in the middle of the woods, we need to make our way south, there’s a town that way and he’ll meet us there with backup.”

“Perfect let's go.” Selene nodded, turning, and beginning to walk away.

Juliet furrowed her eyebrows, “Uh Selene… that’s east.”

“Right.”

As they headed in the right direction Juliet froze, the world surging around her. “Guess the drugs have kicked in.” She muttered.

“What?” Selene questioned, throwing a look over her shoulder.

“Nothing.” She shook her head, willing the world to right itself again. There was no point worrying them, she just had to power through it, get them all to safety.

Apparently, though, it was hard to head south when the world kept shaking. She had given up trying to lead the group, opting to let Marlowe take over- the woman having an acute sense of direction- while she took up the rear. The drugs were in full effect now, her body tingling and waves of nausea rocking through her. She felt incredibly aware of her surroundings and yet everything also seemed muddled and foggy. Luckily Marlowe and Selene talked pretty much the whole time which gave her something to focus on rather than the pounding in her head and the pain in her body.

“See you can’t compare cats and dogs because they’re different species and have inherently different pros and cons.”

“Okay, I see your point but I still prefer dogs to cats. Hence why we have Morrissey now.”

Juliet rolled her eyes at their continued discussion, the action causing her to miss seeing a low hanging root. Her foot snagged and she tumbled forward, meeting the damp forest ground with a thud.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Selene called, racing towards where she lay, Marlowe on her heels.

“Is anything broken? I know emergency training.” When Selene sent her a questioning look she shrugged, “My brother had a lot of health issues growing up.”

“I’m fine,” Juliet groaned, getting up on her knees. The world swayed dangerously and she shut her eyes tight.

Marlowe was frowning. “Are you sure? You look really pale.”

“I’m fine,” She repeated, brushing strands of hair away from her eyes, “I just tripped.”

“That was one heck of a trip.” Selene deadpanned before grabbing her arm and helping her to her feet.

Standing was way worse than lying on the ground. She swallowed heavily, fighting away a surge of bile. “Don’t worry guys, let’s just get out of here.”

They were both eyeing her warily but she was thankful that they let it drop, turning and heading on their way. She shivered, hugging her jacket tighter around her. Her skin felt like it was crawling, suddenly very aware of every stick that brushed her leg and every clothing fold that rubbed against her. Moving seemed slow like her body was trapped in jello and she tried to fight against it. Her head was throbbing and she could feel her heart beating heavily in her chest. She couldn’t think of anything outside of her body, the ache all-consuming.

They had wandered quite far- or at least that’s what she thought. She wasn’t really sure if they’d been walking for fifteen minutes or fifty, every tree blurred together in a mess of brown and green. Marlowe and Selene were just blobs of blue and yellow and she was thankful for once that they had worn bright colors. It hadn’t been much help in sneaking into the compound but it was nice now.

Her chest tightened and she gasped for air as her skin started burning. Tearing out of her jacket, she considered removing her shirt too, needing to escape the fire that was enveloping her body but her movements became choppy. Hands barely grasping the fabric, she only managed to pull it up a little before a pair of hands grasped her wrists.

“Woah woah, Juliet, keep your shirt on. It’s like 40 degrees out here.” Selene chided, her eyebrows furrowed. She stepped back, arms crossed, and fixed her with a pointed look. Or at least that’s what Juliet thought, it was hard to tell through the haze. “Out with it Jules, what’s going on?”

Marlowe was soon at her side, her soft voice comforting, “Are you okay? Do you want to take a break?”

Juliet tried to shake her head, tell them to keep going but she couldn’t get the words out. The edges of her vision were growing dim, the world surging violently around her. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, her chest rapidly constricting, black spots beginning to appear.

“I think… I’m going to... pass out.” She gasped out before her eyes fluttered shut and she pitched backward.

They gasped and rushed forward, reaching out to catch their friend. Groaning, they hooked their hands under her arms, standing shoulder to shoulder as they struggled to keep her up. Even with Juliet’s small frame, deadweight was still deadweight.

“This just got a whole lot more difficult.” Marlowe’s eyes were wide as she stared at her.

Selene nodded, eyebrows furrowing as she examined her unconscious best friend, “Guess we’re not out of the woods yet.”

[gaycrouton]

Since you already told me you have an idea for this, I need to read the “Mulder accidentally takes Viagra and Dr. Scully needs to help” fic pretty please! The hotter the better of course.

HEY BOO! Guess who finally got around to finishing it! I’ve had this idea for so long it’s ridiculous, and not to toot my own horn…but it’s really hot. It ended up being super long so I’m going to split it up in two parts while the latter half is in beta. Part two will probably be up in the next few days!

As always, thank you to @admiralty-xfd for her beta and her endless support.

Clinical Detatchment

msr / s7 / UST to RST

To say this case had been stressful would be a colossal understatement. They’d been clashing with the police department since they got here; they were flagrantly sexist and rude to Scully and they thought Mulder was insane and, in their words, ‘a pussy’ for listening to her. To top it all off, after a week of intensive searching, the case ended with the police burning down the barn that the ‘creature’ they’d been looking for had been lurking in resulting in a pile of ashes and some unidentifiable bones, much to Mulder’s irritation.

She couldn’t even take joy in the fact that the case was over. After the barn burning, they had to go to the police station to give a final statement and, aside from being offered coffee which Mulder had all but devoured, the police were outright disrespectful. Not that Mulder wasn’t acting similarly to them, after he’d downed the drink he’d talked separately with the officers before storming out of the office, telling her they “were leaving, now.”

She didn’t know what they’d said to him that’d offended him to this point, but she knew something was off.

Now she was at the shitty restaurant attached to their motel, sitting across from Mulder who seemed to be in one of his moods. As soon as they’d gotten there he’d stormed ahead of her, not bothering to hold the door open or even see if she was following him. It wouldn’t be strange if it weren’t for his usual tendencies to be a gentleman, but now it just seemed passive aggressive. All in all, a shitty day.

He’d been quiet since they left and when she asked him anything he’d just give her short answers. For some reason it felt like he couldn’t even look at her. She could only take so much before she called him out. “Mulder, have I done something to piss you off?”

He stopped playing with his glass of water and looked at her timidly before looking away, pretending to find interest in the food that remained practically untouched in front of him. “No,” he muttered.

“Are you sure?” she asked, impatience coming through despite herself.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

She let out an irritated sigh and slouched into her seat. Her movement resulted in her leg grazing Mulder’s and it caused him to jump away from her like she’d burned him. “Are you kidding me?” she snapped.

“I’m-”

“Mulder, I’ve had to deal with people treating me like shit this entire case. I really don’t need it from you too,” she lamented.

Finally he looked at her and she started to feel a little guilty for lashing out. In this moment, looking at him face to face, she realized he looked ill. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were glassy, and she could see sweat gathering on his brow. “Scully, I’m sorry. I’m not mad. I don’t mean to be short, I just- I don’t feel good.”

“No, I shouldn’t have snapped. I didn’t realize you were sick,” she apologized.

“I think just the stress of the case finally caught up to me,” he shrugged.

She slid out of her side of the booth and moved to sit next to him. “I-I’m sure I’m fine though, Scully,” he stammered, sliding away from her.

“Mulder, you don’t look fine,” she admonished, reaching for his face. She put the back of her hands on his cheeks and forehead and frowned when she felt how hot he was. “You’re burning up.”

He swerved his head, effectively moving out of her hands, and hunched over. “It’s probably just a passing bug, Scully. I promise I’m fine,” he rambled. 

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. This wasn’t like Mulder to be so unreceptive to her medical attention. She gave him another once over and realized how abnormal his posture was. “Mulder, why are you sitting like that?”

“Scully,” he stated firmly. “I’m fine.”

“If you’re fine then sit up,” she countered.

“I don’t want to,” he whined with near exasperation. 

He looked like he was grabbing his sides while curling in on himself.

“Do you have pain in your abdomen?” she asked. Appendicitis? Stomach flu? Hernia? IBS?

“No,” he muttered childishly, avoiding eye contact.

“How long have you been feeling ill?”

“Please, drop it,” he pled.

Suddenly, testing him, she reached out and grabbed the arm nearest to her, pulling it away from his body. He let out a hissing sound between clenched teeth, his whole body lurching before he moved away from her. “Mulder, you’re obviously in pain. Stop trying to hide it.”

“Scully, please leave me alone,” he begged. “And please stop touching me so much.”

The intensity of his request hurt her feelings, but she tried her best to keep it from showing. Part of her thought about giving up and meeting him with equal stubbornness, but it’d felt like they’d been getting closer as of late and the harsh rejection stung more than she wished it had. “Why won’t you let me help you?” she asked softly.

He must’ve heard the hurt despite her efforts and he turned to look at her. When he did this, she noticed his eyes were unnaturally dilated and her concern grew even more. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he pressed.

She might’ve given up, but this case had been taxing on them both and she knew he had a tendency to forgo taking care of himself in the midst of a stressful investigation. “Mulder,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing at him again. “Please just let me give you a quick examination to see if anything’s alarming.” She put her hand on his thigh and he gasped ‘fuck’ before grabbing her wrist harshly, causing her to let out a little gasp of surprise.

He winced and was silent a moment before whispering, “It’s embarrassing.”

“What is?” she asked.

With some strain, he sat up straight and let go of her wrist, taking the other off his lap to reveal an impressive erection straining against his dress pants, tenting the material away from his lap. He gestured to it in aggravation as if it needed any sort of introduction.

She looked at it, he looked at it, he looked at her, she kept looking at it. 

“Oh,” she squeaked, removing her hand from his thigh but not leaving that side of the booth.

“I-” he mumbled,  covering up again as she struggled to tear her gaze away.

She interrupted him with a raised hand. “It’s fine, Mulder. I know it happens. It doesn’t bother me. I’m sorry I embarrassed you-you shouldn’t be embarrassed,” she rushed, her sentences choppy in her own mortification at bringing attention to it. 

She wasn’t lying - she knew it happened quite frequently, just never to this extent. Usually he adjusted it, calmed down, or left the room by the time the slight hardening in his pants turned into anything that he’d think she noticed. She figured Mulder thought he was being discreet, or maybe he assumed she never glanced at that area of his body, but she noticed enough to know that Mulder was a very healthy man.

It sometimes became a game to her: determining what the cause of any given erection was. Sometimes she thought it happened when the wind blew too hard, it seemed to happen so easily. But slowly, this time, she realized she seemingly had a role in it. All too often it seemed he needed to readjust or take a deep breath or leave immediately following something she’d done. Like a cause and effect but the causes were things she thought were mundane, like standing near him, smiling, laughing, touching, sometimes just looking at him. 

She’d just never called him out on it.

“No, Sc-wait. What do you mean you know it happens?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“I just-it’s a natural bodily occurrence,” she explained, subverting her true meaning.

They locked eyes for a moment, both fully aware she wasn’t convincing enough, but luckily he chose to move on. “They, um, they slipped me something,” he mumbled.

He shifted in his seat and her gaze flitted down to the area in question, a glance that didn’t go unnoticed by Mulder who started unconsciously bending forward again to hide himself. Feeling a surge of embarrassment for her unabashed ogling, she cleared her throat and registered his words. “Wait, who slipped you what?”

“Sheriff Flannery and his merry band of misfits, they said they gave me viagra,” he murmured the last part so softly that she’d barely heard him.

For a moment she was sure she’d heard him wrong, but he was wearing his earnestness on his face and she knew he was telling the truth.“Why on earth would they do that? Not to mention the fact that’s extremely illegal,” she balked.

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “They said it was so I could ‘man up’,” he admitted. She was about to make a comment about how ridiculous that was, but he spoke up before she could. “Apparently they had some viagra in the back from some guy who retired, yadda yadda yadda, but they slipped it into my coffee while we were in the hallway talking.” 

As he said this, she unconsciously licked her lips and his gaze flickered to the motion immediately before his eyes shot back to the opposite side of the booth while his nostrils flared and he shifted his hips. It was a motion she found undeniably attractive.

“How much did they give you?” she asked, her attention snapping back to the matter at hand.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“How long have you been erect?” she asked, cringing and looking around when she realized her volume.

Mulder did a look around as well and sighed in relief when no one was eavesdropping on them. “Um, I don’t know, maybe two hours.”

“Have you tried…” she made an odd gesture with her lap with her hands as he stared at her with raised eyebrows.

“Did it look like I tried the past two hours we’ve been together?” he asked sarcastically before immediately apologizing. “I’m sorry, this is just the icing on a shit day.”

“It worries me that we don’t know the dosage,” she confided, stopping altogether when the waitress came by to take their plates and drop off the check. Neither of them missed the skeptical once over she gave them for being huddled together on the same side of the booth like teenagers.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Scully resumed, “I’m worried they gave you too much.”

“I’m sure it’ll go away when we get back to the motel room.” Catching himself, he clarified, “When I get back to my motel room. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Unless it doesn’t go away in the next two hours,” she added, getting out her wallet and laying cash down on the table for the bill and the tip.

“W-what do you mean?” he croaked.

She looked at him with a skeptical brow as if to say ‘you don’t know’ to which his visible gulp replied ‘oh god what?’

“Do you know why Viagra commercials warn against erections lasting longer than four hours?” she asked, stuffing her wallet back into her purse.

“Lightheadedness…” he answered with timidity that told her he knew his answer would be wrong.

“No, do you know what priapism is?” she asked.

“No,” he admitted.

“There are different types, and I won’t go into full detail, but in bad cases the blood trapped in the penis is deprived of oxygen. Erections that last too long can cause the oxygen-poor blood to begin to damage or destroy tissues in the penis,” she explained.

“Destroy?” he repeated.

“Some untreated priapisms can cause erectile dysfunction.”

She might as well have told him he had two hours to live with the look of panic that came across his face. “W-what do I need to do?” he stammered.

“Let’s go back to your room so we can assess the situation,” she stated, trying to sound calm. 

She slid out of the booth, but as she was about to walk away, she felt a hand grab her wrist. “Wait,” he whispered.

She turned and saw him scooting closer to the edge of, but not coming out of, the seat. He glanced around before looking at her nervously. “There are people here,” he told her in a low voice.

She looked around and saw the once empty restaurant was bustling with customers. “But we have to go, Mulder,” she whispered back, not wanting to cause him further embarrassment but not seeing a wormhole for him to crawl into opening up anytime soon.

“Can you walk right in front of me to hide it?” he asked. Mulder usually didn’t care what people thought of him, but he did care when across the room was a children’s birthday party. 

With a sigh of resignation, she nodded and turned around in place as he stood up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders to keep her in front of him. There was space between them, but barely. They were both walking as briskly as they could, but she could feel the warmth of him radiating on her back.

Then, unexpectedly, a waitress passed in front of Scully’s path with a quick “Sorry, coming through,” and the motion caused Scully to stop in her tracks. Which, of course, resulted in Mulder crashing into her and jabbing his hard on straight into her back. She gasped and he squeezed her shoulders tightly and  let out a soft, strangled moan, causing a few patrons to abandon their food to glance up at the pair.

“I’m sorry,” Scully whispered breathlessly. Whether to the interrupted customers having to witness their misfortune, or to Mulder for stopping so suddenly, she wasn’t sure. All she knew as she continued moving forward was that Mulder’s cock had just touched her. It wasn’t skin against skin, wasn’t intimate in any real sense, but her partner’s penis had touched her and it was hot, hard, and he moaned. 

And fuck if it didn’t turn her on.

As soon as they were out of the eyeline of the prying customers and halfway across the gravel parking lot to their rooms, she took a quick step forward, consequently freeing herself from his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Mulder lamented immediately. Truth be told, she didn’t need to be so dramatic with her movement, but she’d rather have him think she was frustrated with him than realize she was getting flustered. But she regretted her action at the absolute guilt that was evident in his tone.

She turned to look over at him and took pity on the sight of a dejected Mulder crossing his hands in front of his pants. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pull away so abruptly. Let’s just get to your room.”

She stood by his side and didn’t say anything more as Mulder unlocked the door and let her in. They’d only been there a few days, but Mulder had sprawled all his stuff about and made himself at home. She heard the lock snick behind her, and putting on an air of complete professionalism, she turned around and faced him. “Okay, let’s take a look.”

He still hadn’t moved more than a foot from the door, the only signs of life were the widening of his eyes and his stammering. “I-I don’t, I can’t-”.

Well, if he was going to be like that. “One of the methods of curing a priapism is to make an incision-”

“Scull-ee,” he whined, his brows furrowing in distress.

“Mulder, I saw more penises in med school than the actresses in all your tapes combined,” she deadpanned.

“But this is different,” he explained, not elaborating beyond that.

He was right. It was different. She’d seen it before, but it was usually a brief glimpse in the midst of dressing  him because of another injury, never was it the main focus of an examination. That, plus the issue that it would be erect and she’d most likely have to come in contact with it for a full examination.

Letting out a long sigh and cursing the fact that nothing in their lives could be easy, she ran her hands over her face and offered, “You’re right. You’re right. Um, how about you go into the bathroom and take a look. Let me know if anything looks abnormal.”

He seemed relieved at that prospect and did as directed, making his way to the bathroom and quickly shutting the door as if to get out of her line of sight. She listened from the other side of the door as the teeth of his zipper came apart and his pants dropped down to the floor. He coughed nervously and called out, “Okay, uh, it’s-it’s out,” he stammered.

There were a few moments in her life, specifically since her time with him, where she couldn’t help but be shocked at where she’d ended up. This was one of those moments.

“How does it look?” she asked.

“Um,” he paused. “Normal?”

“Does it look different than when you’re usually erect?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

“What do you mean?” he called out.

“Is it swollen or red?” she explained, images from med school textbooks dancing around in her head. 

There was a pause and she realized he was misinterpreting her. With a sigh, she added, “More so than normal?”

“N-no, I think it looks normal, but I’ve never had one for this long and it kinda aches,” he explained. She frowned, she didn’t know what to do when half of that information was comforting and the other half was cause for concern. 

“This isn’t working,” she called out. In what world could a doctor assess a patient with a blindfold on? Rarely were patient assessments ever accurate in the first place, let alone when they were in distress. 

“Do you have to?” he sighed in acquiescence.

“Mulder, just let me look. I just want to help,” she reassured, trying to take a gentler approach.

She heard some more sounds of fabric rustling and realised he was stepping out of his pants and shoes. Soon enough, she heard the door unlock and saw a tuft of brown hair and hazel eyes peer from the side of the door. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he joked lamely, trying to lighten the mood and his own discomfort.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a small smirk. “If I ever need an emergency medical exam, I’ll make sure you’re the first person I call.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked, taking a step out and revealing he’d also removed his dress shirt, leaving him in his t-shirt shirt and boxers as he continued to cover himself with a hand towel.

She took a few steps towards him to meet him halfway and the room became tense again, neither of them speaking for a moment as the awkwardness overtook them. “I promise to be clinically detached,” she blurted out. “I know this is uncomfortable, but as soon as it’s taken care of, I promise we can pretend this never happened.”

He let out a long, reluctant sigh and nodded, “Okay. Thank you.”

“Sit on the bed,” she commanded.

He teased her about her bedside manner, but they walked back into the bedroom and he did as she asked anyway. He only started making a fuss again when she began to get closer.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked, scooting away from her as she started easing herself down on her knees in front of him.

“I’m looking, Mulder…” she trailed off. Surely he didn’t think she was going to…

“I-but-can you,” he stammered never fully forming a single one of the thousand thoughts swirling behind his eyes right now.

“Mulder, are you genuinely confused or just stammering? I don’t mean to be blunt, but in this situation, the difference matters,” she sighed, righting herself to look at him. Faltering memory. Confusion. Slurred or stammered speech.

“Scully, this is embarrassing,” he whined, so pathetically that her heart went out to him.

But time was of the essence, and they were running out of it. “Fine,” she stated sternly, pretending to grab her bag. “We’ll just have to go to the hospital then.”

“No!” he called out, and if she identified the sound correctly, he even stamped a foot.

She turned around to face him again and demanded. “You’re going to have to be honest with me or we will be going, okay?”

He was giving her puppy dog eyes right now and she had to bite back a smile at the juxtaposition. He looked like a kicked dog, yet was sporting a massive erection. Mulder pulled her out of her thought process by his mumbling something, but doing it under his breath so that she couldn’t hear. “What was that?”

“I don’t want to accidentally come in front of you… or on you,” he muttered. 

This is my life. My partner just said those words out loud to me. She was at such a loss for words that he took it as her not understanding. “I just-I’m afraid seeing you, um, like that-” On your knees.

She held up her hand to stop him from saying anymore. “Lay back and close your eyes or look at the ceiling.” He nodded and lowered himself slowly onto his back, letting out a tense sigh. She wished she had those hanging mobiles like they do at the OBGYN, but he instead just raised his forearms to cover his eyes and she took that as a sign she was good to go. 

Without his prying eyes on her, she mouthed a silent fuck to herself as she lowered herself on her knees and in between his legs, giving her a better vantage point to see. The hand towel didn’t do much to cover, but it was enough for her to be nervous about removing it entirely.  No going back now.

She cleared her throat and decided to be as Dr. Scully as she possibly could. “I’m going to remove the towel.” 

There were no words of affirmation or recognition, but she knew he heard. He was probably just trying to mentally dig a hole to crawl into. With her index finger and thumb, she grabbed the corner of the towel and lifted it off, setting it down gently at his side. Her thoughts were as follows:

Mulder is hung.

How does he walk around with this?

It’s amazing how humble he is for how cocky he easily could be.

My face is a few inches from Mulder’s leaking cock.

“Does it look like a pr-prasi-”

“A priapism,” she clarified. She looked at the pink swollen phallus and didn’t immediately see any of the usual red flags. “No visual indicators.” Dr. Scully left for a moment as Flustered Dana mentally screamed, but she stifled her hesitation and confidently said, “Is it alright if I touch it for a physical exam?”

He was silent and, unlike last time, she couldn’t continue without his permission. She sat there, his penis hard as a rock in front of her face, as he contemplated his fate. Then, she heard a softly muttered, “Okay.”

Being as delicate as she could, she scooted closer, her forearm grazing the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. He jumped like she’d shocked him and she breathed out an apology and continued to lift her hands, gently grabbing the shaft with the tips of her fingers. 

She ducked her head slightly to look at the scrotum and noticed nothing looked out of the ordinary. Just perfectly dropped, engorged, healthy balls. She righted herself and tested the skin’s give by tugging down lightly with her fingers on his shaft, dragging the skin down and revealing more of  his head, and she was relieved to see there was some movement. So he’s not swollen to the point of danger. 

As she conducted her test he took a sharp, shaky inhalation between clenched teeth. Risking a glance over to him, she saw his arms still firmly planted against his face, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “Um-” she spoke, not even sure what she was about to say, just wanting to break the silence. “Does being touched hurt?” she asked, settling on a perfectly analytical question.

She saw him swallow thickly before answering in a husky voice that shot straight to her core, “No.” 

He didn’t offer any more information and she figured he was trying to spare his pride. Using her fingers as delicately as she could, she moved it around from side to side just to check mobility, but her motion apparently wasn’t as delicate as she’d intended. He lurched away from her, his erection going out of her grasp and bobbing violently in the air at his harsh jerk. “Okay, that was a little rough, Scully.”

“Sorry,” she exhaled before taking the cloth and covering him. At the unexpected sensation, he concaved his hips into the bed and released his arms to look down at her before immediately subverting his eyes. 

Using his knees as leverage, she stood up and cleared her throat, taking in the sight of Mulder actually blushing and wishing it wasn’t such an uncomfortable situation. 

His attention was drawn by her near-declarative cough and he glanced back at her as he eased himself up on his elbows. Now it was her turn to look away. There was something incredibly sexy about a casually reclined Mulder with an erection while she apparently possessed the ability to arouse him.

“It doesn’t look dangerous right now, but that doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods yet. I want you to, um, take care of it and then tell me if the swelling starts to go down,” she explained.

“What happens if I can’t?” he asked nervously.

“I thought you were well versed in that arena,” she teased before seeing the look of panic in his eyes. “Mulder, I’m sure this will all blow over. People snort cocaine and have had two hour long erections like this and they live. Let’s focus on the positive. If you can’t, we can always go to the hospital,” she comforted. Correction- she tried to comfort. She said the H word again and she could see the worry brewing in his eyes.

“Don’t think about it, just think about - whatever it is you normally think about,” she stammered, moving towards the adjoining door. “I’ll be next door if you need me.” Then, at his raised brows, she added, “If you have a medical question or um, you know.” Putting herself out of her misery, she walked into her room and shut the door.

[rostovs-lover]

Hey hey! Can I request a Bash x reader imagine where the reader is Mary’s younger sister and she doesn’t know Bash has been in love with her since they were children?

Like Children

Sebastian De Poitiers | major spoilers, brief mention of character death | female reader | fluff, pining, kinda slow burn for a short fic | wc.927

goodness its been a while since I’ve watched Reign, I’m so sorry if Sebastian is out of character. I also hope this isn’t as choppy rushed as I thought it was. I hope you enjoy! (Note: I’m on mobile so I can’t put the cut in, when I get computer access I will add it)

The French court had seemed unimaginable, something (Yn) had only heard about from her sister’s letters and a few brief visits when they were younger. That was until she was there, after Aylee’s murder when Mary sent for her younger sister. Now that she was stuck in a stuffy room, it was almost underwhelming. (Yn) got along with everyone, she always had, and it was nice to finally see the girls she had spent so much of her young life with. It was lonely though, lonelier than she had expected, and she had a newfound sympathy for the way Mary laminated in her letters. 

There was a knock, “Lady (Yn)?” 

She turned around, letting the curtains she had pushed back to stare out the window flutter around her. Sebastian was standing in the doorway and (Yn) almost didn’t recognize him, “Sebastian,” It was his eyes, that’s why she knew who he was. 

“I,” He cleared his throat, “I heard you’d returned to court,” 

She stepped away from the window towards him, “Yes, I arrived earlier today. It’s just as a remembered it yet so different,” 

“Well Lady (Yn), would you like for me to show you around?” Sebastian offered his arm to loop with hers.

(Yn) grinned, Sebastian realized it was the same way she always had, and accepted his arm, “What a polite offer, who would I be to decline?” 

**

Horse hooves clopping against gravel was the only sound in the quiet woods but Sebastian hardly realized. His mind was elsewhere, on Lady (Yn) Stuart and the soft way she spoke to him while they walked the gardens. He hadn’t thought much of Mary’s younger sister, not until the afternoon when he saw her again for the first time in years. Perhaps, he realized, he had chosen not to think of her, pushed her out of his mind. They had been close when they were younger and Mary had come to court with her ladies and (Yn). He could recall a certain feeling for the girl but he had simply brushed it off as a childhood infatuation. They were older now though and he still felt so strongly towards her, Sebastian couldn’t pinpoint the feeling though. Was he in love?

**

Wandering the castle in the dead of night may not have been the smartest of ideas but it was entertaining and (Yn) hadn’t been caught yet. The thought of seeing any respectable person at this hour while only wearing a nightgown crossed her mind, what an impression to make. 

The soft thump of boots against the stairs made her heart start to race and she tried to find a corner to duck around. She rushed around a wall towards a set of big double door and skidded to a stop, leaning on the wall to catch her breath. 

“Lady (Yn)?” The voice was familiar, much softer than usual seeing as it was so late, but familiar none the less, “What are you doing?” 

(Yn) peeked around the corner catching a glimpse at the approaching figures dark hair, “Goodness Sebastian, you scared me!” 

“Well milady, seeing a gown-clad figure rush through the dark hall of the castle isn’t the most welcome sight either. Why are you up?” 

(Yn) felt her face begin to flush, “Well I couldn’t sleep and why stay cooped up in my chambers when there’s so much of this castle that I haven’t seen in ages. I didn’t expect to see anyone,” 

Sebastian smiled, “Well I suppose a bit of an adventure never hurt anyone,” 

**

The soft candlelight flickered against the walls of the tunnel and a grin grew on Sebastian’s face. 

“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” He whispered, “Wandering through these passages at this hour. I don’t think I’ve done this since I was a child,” 

“Me either,” (Yn) picked at a thread on her nightgown, “I remember being terrified of these when we were first at court. I didn’t know where they would lead and I thought that I might get lost and never find my way out. One night Mary convinced me to come to follow her down one, we walked for so long. I got a bit frightened, I was worried we’d never see the light of day again but Mary being Mary, she found a way out.” A comfortable silence filled the small space as the pair wandered a bit further. 

Sebastian swallowed and steadied himself, “Lady (Yn)?” 

“Yes?”

“I think I love you,” 

(Yn) stared at him for a moment, “You… love me?” 

“I believe I do. It’s not anything new either, I’ve felt something for you since we were young but I brushed it off, told myself it was simply being a child and that it would go away but it didn’t. It never did, I’ve loved you since we were children (Yn) but I’ve only just realized it. I think when I saw you for the first time this morning it dawned upon me that these feelings were not-” He shook his head, “- Are not just a silly liking. I love you (Yn),” 

“Oh, Sebastian,” She stroked his cheek, “I believe I just might love you too,”

“Well then,” He started with a grin, “that’s quite a coincidence I’d say,” And he kissed her. 

(Yn) patted his cheek as she pulled back, “I believe we should get back before its sunrise and people start to worry about our whereabouts,” 

Sebastian chuckled, “It would be rather unfortunate to go missing on your second day at court,” He laced his fingers with hers, “Now best not get lost in these tunnels,”