#Putting him under the lamp for so long really made a difference you can really see the glow
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That's quite cliche oh the boss and his nanny
Barbie dolls: hotch x gn! Nanny! Reader
Word: 2.6k
Summary: hotch asks you stay at his house bc it late and shenanigans happen oh my god holy shit read it please and thank you
Warning: hotch points gun at you, you're a nanny, you have nightmares, mentioned that your hair stands up from sleeping on it weird but it doesn't mention texture I pinkie promise, hotch touches your hair once, jack really loves lightning McQueen, shots (metaphorical) at throw blankets and suburban houses, you say oh my god, that's it I think
It was usual for the team to go out to a restaurant after a long case. So just like usual after the team was off the jet and standing in the hallway, Penelope asked if anybody wanted food. The team answered with different forms of yes. Then after a moment of silence, all eyes turned to Hotch. He looked up from his phone, glancing around.
“So you coming or what?” Emily asked. Hotch shook his head sending you a message telling you he was on his way. He heard a few groans in response. His lips tipped a smidge.
“I have to get home and tell my nanny to go home,” Hotch said, frowning at your lack of a response. It wasn’t too late, you were usually awake at this time. Morgan hummed in a taunting tone.
”Workaholic? You have to shoo them out with a broom?” Morgan asked. Hotch glared at Morgan and stepped into the elevator. Rossi made a sad sound.
“I think you hurt his feelings,” Rossi said, tilting his head at Morgan. Morgan let out a laugh. Hotch rolled his eyes as the elevator doors closed, leaving him alone. He stared down at his message, still with no response. He felt a wave of worry wash over him. He considered calling you but thought maybe he was just being parnoid. Hotch let it slide and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He still let his worry simmer in the back of his head on the ride home. When he unlocked his front door and pushed it open, he felt another wave of worry add to his shoulders.
The lights were off which meant one of two things. You both went to bed early or there was a break-in. He dropped his keys into the bowl next to the door, setting his case down next to his shoes. Hotch quietly walked through the house finding more and more lights off. When he reached the living room he caught on.
The big light was off but the lamp was on. The tv was still playing the credits of a Scooby Doo movie. Hotch hummed now understanding. He looked over the edge of the couch and saw you asleep on the couch. Your sweater was balled up and shoved under your head. Your phone was sitting on the coffee table. Your arm was slung over the edge of the couch, resting on the floor. Hotch saw the remote sitting just barely in your hand. Jack was no where to be seen but he saw a juice box and a halfway-eaten bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. Hotch hummed, assuming Jack already left for his bed. He leaned over the edge of the couch and gently shook your arm.
You didn’t budge, you were out cold. Hotch looked up when he heard movement behind him. He looked behind him to see Jack standing frozen three steps behind Hotch. Jack was holding a bowl of ice cream with a spoon sticking out the top. He was in his pajamas still, and his slippers that lit up when he took a step on his feet. Hotch raised an eyebrow at Jack. Jack stared at Hotch, knowing he was caught breaking the ‘no sweets after 8’ rule.
“Hello, Father,” Jack said, obviously nervous. Hotch hummed and leaned against the couch.
“Whatcha doing bud?” Jack glanced down at the bowl of ice cream with his favorite lighting McQueen spoon.
“Just getting them some ice cream,” Jack said, gesturing to you. You let out a snore that made Hotch sure you’d been out for most of the movie. Hotch hummed.
“How about this, how about you go put that bowl in the freezer? We’ll pretend this didn’t happen and you can have that ice cream tomorrow night?” Hotch said. Jack looked down at the bowl, pouting. His shoulders sank and he turned on his heel, heading back to the kitchen. Jack came back a few minutes later and hugged Hotch’s legs. Hotch pulled him off the ground and hugged him tighter. Jack laughed and Hotch groaned as he set him back down.
“Go get ready for bed and I’ll be in to read you a story,” Hotch said. After a few grumpy mumbles from Jack he left for the bathroom, getting ready to brush his teeth. Hotch turned back to you. He shook you a little rougher making your eyes peel open. He called your name to lead you back to real life through your slumber. You squinted and sat up on your elbow. Hotch heard the remote clatter to the ground. You looked around. Taking in your surroundings. You looked up at him, looking even more confused.
“Aaron?” Hotch hummed in response. You sat up all the way. Hotch reached out to tame the back of your hair. Apparently, sweaters made your hair stand up when sleeping on them. You furrowed your eyebrows and rubbed at your eye.
“What time is it?” You asked. Hotch stayed leaned over the back of the couch, watching you with a smile. Even with your sleep and confusion lacing your every word, you were still breathtaking. Hotch hummed.
“Little past nine.” You groaned, flopping back onto the couch. You tucked your sweater back under your head.
“Five more minutes.” You huffed. Hotch snorted and pulled on your arm.
“Come on, I can’t let you sleep on the couch. It won’t be very comfortable.” You peeked one eye at him.
“Then carry me home.” Hotch rolled his eyes.
“Oh I would, but I have to tuck Jack in,” Hotch said, pointing over at Jack’s bedroom. You sat up and looked at his door. You looked back to Hotch with a frown and twitch in your eye that made Hotch want to massage your concern away. He didn’t, keeping his hands on the couch.
“He’s not already asleep?” Hotch shook his head. “Oh, I'm sorry. I just passed out. I didn’t mean to, it was a long day, and I-“ Hotch shushed you, reaching over to rub your upper arm.
“I don’t mind. You’re an amazing nanny. I don’t think Jack cared either, her was making himself a bowl of ice cream when I got here.” Hotch said, letting his hand linger on your arm even though he knew it was inappropriate professional behavior. You frowned harder.
“Oh damn it, he knows the no sweets after 8 rule.” Hotch let his hand drag up to your shoulder and rub it. Your frown dissapearred and you hummed. You shut your eyes as Hotch added his other hand to your free shoulder.
“You don’t have to go home. It is pretty late. I could set up the guest bedroom for you.” Hotch whispered, staring over your head to watch the credits. You hummed and leaned your head back.
“I can’t do that. I don’t want to impede.” You said, keeping your eyes closed as Hotch massaged your shoulders.
“You’re not impeding. I’m offering. I don’t want you to drive tired. Just stay, you can leave in the morning before Jack wakes up.” Hotch said, glancing over at the bathroom. Jack’s Lightning McQueen's toothbrush was still singing. You picked your head up, peeling your eyes open.
“Are you sure?” Hotch clicked his tongue, pulling his hands away. You glared at him, following him with your eyes as he joined you on the couch.
“I want you here. You’re not a burden or impeding. Stay, please.” Hotch said, reaching out to hold onto your hand. You pressed your lips together, humming sadly.
“Right well, I’m stealing a throw blanket or something.” You said, standing from the couch. Hotch nodded and gave you a soft smile.
“Okay. Sleep tight, I’ll make sure Jake doesn’t wake you up.” Hotch said before heading towards Jack’s bedroom to tuck him in. You drifted off to the guest bedroom.
You didn’t sleep well. It started nicely, the room was pretty. The sheets were nice. The pillows were soft, and yet you still had a horrific nightmare. It left you clammy and breathless. You were shooting out of the bed that was not yours and checking the bedroom windows to make sure they were locked. Which settled your stomach for a moment but then you thought of all the windows and doors in the house. It was a little strange to be paranoid over a nightmare but maybe it was a reminder to be extra safe.
You pulled the stupid throw blanket sitting on the edge of the bed over your shoulders and quietly made your way to the nearest window. As you checked the locks, you wondered why suburban homes seemed to always have pointless throw blankets as decor. No one used them, they all felt like sandpaper. Why’d they do that? Furthermore, why did Aaron have them? Is he using the throw blankets? You moved through the kitchen, the window above the sink was unlocked. You stepped into the living room, checking the sliding patio door. It ws locked. You moved to the windows next to it behind the small desk for Jack. You heard a gun cock.
“Don’t move.”
Your surroundings were shed in a light from behind you. You froze and wondered if it was Jack’s nightlight. You slowly held your hands up. You heard Aaron mutter your name. You slowly turned around to face him, the dumb throw blanket falling to the floor. Aaron lowered his gun, clicking the safety back on and setting it down on the nearby kitchen counter.
“What the hell are you doing?” Aaron asked. You felt slightly taken aback at the fact he just cursed at you.
“Checking the locks.” You whispered, glancing back at the window. Aaron threw his hands out, placing them on his hips.
“And you have to do that in the middle of the night while sounding like a burgalar? I thought you were a murderer or something.” Aaron said, glancing around the room.
“I just got anxious-you pointed a gun at me.” You said. Your brain was catching up with the fact that Aaron could’ve killed you. Aaron glanced over at his gun resting on the counter. He looked back at you apologetically.
“I did, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I overreacted, that’s my fault. Did I scare you?” Aaron asked, taking a step closer to you.
“I had a nightmare that someone broke in and took Jack so I wanted to check the locks.” You said, staring at the floor. Aaron cooed and you felt a tear slip past your waterline. You weren’t entirely sure why you were crying. It could’ve been your fear that Jack would get hurt or it could’ve been the fact you were just faced with your own mortality even if it was just for a second. Aaron closed the distance, wrapping you in a hug. You gripped the back of his pajama shirt, pretending your boots weren’t totally, fully, absolutely shaken.
Eventually, you stopped crying and Aaron dragged your shaken form to his bedroom. He took the gun with him. Aaron sat you on the edge of the bed as he set his gun away in his safe. He sat next to you once it locked.
“Are you alright?” You kept your eyes on the floor, seeing that he picked a really strange carpet that was a strange mix of blue, green, and white. Aaron reached out and patted your shoulder, whispering your name.
“Did you pick this carpet?” You asked, keeping your eyes on it. Aaron scoffed.
“What?” You stayed silent, giving him time to think over his answer. “No. It was-“
“Good, ‘cause it’s hideous.” You said, kicking your foot on the carpet. Dishelved it was even uglier. You thought you might get nauseous if you kept looking at it. Aaron squeezed your shoulder.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asked. You shrugged.
“Fine, you just have ugly carpet in here. And untrustworthy locks. And scary guns.” You said, sighing at the memory of Aaron’s gun aimed at your back. Aaron sighed next to you.
“I really am sorry.” You mocked his tone. Aaron pulled his hand away from your shoulder.
“I thought it was funny.” You whispered. Aaron shook his head.
“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” Aaron asked. You scoffed.
“Um excuse me? Who was it that packed your son’s lunch and picked him up from school today? Oh, that’s right, me! You ought to watch who you’re talking to.” You said. Aaron had a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he opened his mouth to retort.
“Oh is that how we’re playing it?” You nodded. “Right and who determines your paycheck? Oh, that’s right, me!” Aaron said, pointing to himself.
“Maybe we drop it. I’m good with my job as it is, thank you.” You said, looking back at the ugly carpet. Aaron pulled you into a side hug, shaking you lightly for a moment.
“I’m sorry for tonight. It won’t happen again, I swear it.” Aaron whispered against your temple.
“You’re absolutely positive you had no hand in this carpet decision?” You asked, pointing at the ground. Aaron pulled away from you, letting out a scoffing laugh.
“Why are you so set on this?” You ignored him, really focused on the stupid almost teal.
“I mean it’s so hideous. If you did have anything to do with this, I don’t think we could be friends anymore.” You said, laughing through your words. Aaron didn’t laugh though and you felt a pang of regret strike your heart.
“We’re just friends?” Aaron asked, staring at you with his freaky constantly serious face. You paused, keeping your eyes off the floor so you’d stay focused.
“Just?” You repeated, squinted at him. Aaron shook his head and looked down at the carpet.
“Well I was just-“
“Oh. My. God.” You pulled yourself off the bed, pacing in front of Aaron. “You totally fell for the nanny. Do you realize how cliche that is? You’re so lucky I’m a freelancer. If I was a part of an organization, they’d have my head.”
“Why would your hypotetical organization have your head? I’m the one that’s attracted to my employee, not the other-“ Aaron paused as he seemed to piece it together.
“you totally fell for your boss, Nanny. Do you realize how cliche that is?” You glared at him for throwing your words back in your face.
“Just for that, I’m stealing a throw blanket and a pillow.” You said, shoving his arm. Hotch rocked for a second, before stalliing and giving you a small smile. He sucked in a breath.
“You know,” Aaron paused. “If that nightmare is still bothering you, you could stay in here tonight.” You paused your pacing, quirking a smile at him. You stepped closer to him, slipping your arms over his shoulders. Aaron’s hand ventured from his lap to the back of your thighs, warming your legs.
“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You asked, though you already knew the answer. Aaron nodded his head, pulling you closer to him. He stared up at you with a glint in his eye that made you grin. He squeezed your thighs. You let your arms slide further on his shoulder, moving your faces closer together. Aaron tilted his head back, looking up at you. You knocked your nose with him, pressing your lips against his. Aaron hummed into your mouth, letting his hands on the back of your thighs travel up. You pulled back just a smidge, a breath filling the space between you too.
“I’m staying in here tonight.” You whispered. Aaron nodded, tilting his head back up.
“Good plan. Kiss me again?” You obliged his demands, meeting his lips again.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds
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pairing. haechan x reader
synopsis. under the light of a lamp post, maybe love isn't so lonely after all
genre. mentions of bruises, a lot of mixed signals from hyuck + comfort (it's a little messy ngl), cussing, friends to ???, no specific pronouns used, not proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!
wc. 1.9k words
notes. hilu…! i’ve finally gained motivation again hehe so u can say i'm back somewhat :> it really does feel nice writing again TT likes and feedback are highly appreciated <3
m.list
you trudged along the dimly lit sidewalk, each step amplifying the dull ache in your heels. it had been a long night of forced smiles and polite conversation—your third blind date this month. the universe seemed to be testing your patience, and you were beginning to wonder if you had any left. the conversations felt hollow, the people you met like fleeting shadows, their words empty and their intentions hidden behind a facade of politeness. tonight's date was no different—another self-absorbed narcissist who only paused his monologue long enough to take a breath before launching into yet another tedious story about himself.
you were utterly sick and tired.
the vibrant atmosphere of bars and the energetic crowd you once thought would lift your spirits now felt suffocating, leaving you more alone and out of place than ever. it was a sharp contrast to the hope you had felt earlier in the evening, and the reality of your disappointment weighed heavily on you.
your feet throbbed, bruised from the heels you'd worn in a futile attempt to feel confident and put together. the bitter taste of the evening lingered, a reminder of yet another failed attempt to find something meaningful to cling on for a while. desperate for some relief, you stumbled toward the nearest convenience store, drawn by the promise of fluorescent lights and the comfort of solitude. the harsh glow overhead made the aisles feel cold and unwelcoming, but you ignored it, grabbing a pack of band-aids from the counter as if they could somehow patch up more than just the blisters on your feet.
as you reached for your wallet, a familiar hand appeared beside yours, placing a few cups of instant ramen down alongside your purchase. the sight of him made your heart lift, even in your weary state.
“rough night?” his voice was gentle, laced with concern as he paid for the items. you looked up, meeting haechan’s gaze, and despite everything, you felt a small spark of comfort.
“do i even need to answer that question, hyuck?” you replied with a soft, tired chuckle. you tried to keep it light, but the exhaustion was evident in your eyes, in the way your shoulders sagged under the weight of the night.
“is it a crime to ask questions of concern in this day and age?” he retorted with a smirk, though his eyes softened as he took in your worn expression.
“i’m afraid so,” you teased back, though your smile was faint.
haechan snickered quietly, taking the paper bag of paid goods from the cashier. he gestured for you to follow him outside, and you gratefully accepted, the cool night air a welcome change from the stifling atmosphere of the date you had just escaped. as you both walked to a nearby bench, you couldn’t help but notice how his presence grounded you, making you feel a little less lost.
sitting down, haechan reached into the bag and pulled out the pack of band-aids, his movements careful and deliberate. it was such a simple gesture, but it felt like a lifeline in the sea of disappointment you were drowning in.
“so, why the long face?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious as he began to unwrap one of the band-aids.
“shitty date,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. you watched as he gently lifted your foot onto his lap despite your initial reluctance. his touch was surprisingly tender, the soft glow of the nearby lamp post highlighting his features in a way that made him seem almost ethereal. somehow, the thought was enough to distract you from the sting of the evening’s failures.
haechan’s expression softened even more as he worked, his gaze focused solely on you. “i told you not to go on those anymore,” he said, a hint of reproach in his voice.
“i know,” you admitted, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt. his touch was soothing, and with each carefully applied band-aid, the pain in your feet seemed to fade, though the ache in your heart lingered.
“there are really creepy guys out there, you know? i don’t know what i’d do if—”
“hyuck,” you interrupted, your tone more serious than before, “you’re making it sound like you’d beat them up without hesitation.”
“i would… for you,” he replied quietly before glancing up at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of affection and concern. “how are you even going to defend yourself? look at you!”
“you care too much,” you said, a hint of a smile on your lips, though your voice betrayed how much his words meant to you.
“i care the right amount,” he countered, his voice steady but filled with warmth.
“no one else would put on bandages for me aside from you,” you confessed, feeling a pang of vulnerability as you spoke. it was true—people often tiptoed around boundaries, but with him, those lines always seemed to blur in a way that allowed for solace and confusion to swirl up within you.
“then maybe everyone else should learn from me,” haechan said with a small, triumphant grin, though his eyes remained serious.
“hyuck,” you began, hesitating as you tried to gather the courage to voice the thoughts that had been gnawing at you. he let out a small hum to let you know he was listening, busying himself with peeling another band-aid out of its packaging. “please tell me if you only mean to lead me on.”
his expression shifted to one of shock and bewilderment, his hands freezing in place. “how did you even come to a conclusion like that?”
“i know you’re probably just being a good person, but… you care for me more than others do. you make me feel special, like i have a place in your heart—even if i know that isn’t truly the case and i’m only being hopeful.”
haechan’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. “you think that’s all this is?” he asked softly.
“then why does it feel like we’re always dancing around something?”
haechan’s gaze was steady, his hand resting gently on yours. “maybe we are. but if there’s one thing i’ve learned, it’s that love isn’t always easy or straightforward. sometimes, it’s about finding comfort in the moments when you’re together, despite the uncertainties.”
as the night deepened, the air between you both seemed to shift. the loneliness that had weighed so heavily on you earlier began to recede, replaced by a quiet connection that felt more real than any conversation you’d had in recent weeks. haechan’s presence was a comforting reminder that, amidst the loneliness and the search for something meaningful, you had found a spark of something genuine.
with a soft sigh, you leaned closer to him, finding solace in his proximity. “maybe love is lonely sometimes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “but tonight, i’m just glad it’s not so lonely with you here.”
“me too.”
#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#nct angst#nct dream angst#haechan fluff#haechan angst#donghyuck fluff#donghyuck angst#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct dream imagines#nct dream drabbles
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baby let me in
REQUEST → @thecreelhouse , SUMMER BLURB PARTY ❝ 🌘 because of you prompt – angsty in-between at steve’s house post-upside down –* steve drives you home after vecna and cleans you up, but who’s gonna help him? | ( 1.2k – TW: blood, wounds, etc // steve harrington x reader, lovesick and a lil fluffy )
B A B Y L E T M E I N 🎶 even if the world don’t understand you, aquilo
Everything was a little hazy around the edges, soft in the low light of Steve’s parents’ room, your bare figures swimming in navy shadows and slivers of gold from the lamp on the nightstand. In any other circumstance this would feel different, charged, skin to skin on the bed and close enough to see the steady rising and falling of Steve’s breaths, but it wasn’t.
It felt like something between grieving and falling onto your knees in relief. Felt like gasping for air after being under water too long. Like you’d both lost something out there in the Upside Down and were leading each other through the dark, finding and feeling your way together.
Bent low over a box of medical supplies, Steve sorted through band-aids and rubbing alcohol, gauze and thread and needles – a first aid kit for monsters. He’d just finished cleaning and covering up the last cut on your back, hands sure and steady as he taped you up before carefully tucking the antibiotic ointment back into place.
The rush of adrenaline was long gone now, exhaustion creeping in around the edges of the bed as you sat knee to knee and cross-legged next to each other on the duvet. Steve had given you an old, oversized Journey tee to wear, the hem dancing just above your knees, but was shirtless himself. Wearing only a pair of old basketball shorts that hung low on his hips and you couldn’t help letting your eyes trail lazily over him.
Damp hair stuck messy across his forehead, a mark to match yours squeezing around his neck, his jaw half-cast in shadow – so stoic, so calm. His lashes were a long sweep over his cheek bones, gaze low in his lap, his lips twisted in concentration.
Pretty. So pretty. Even like this.
The muscles in his arm flexed as he spun the lid closed on the rubbing alcohol, his bare chest warm in the low light, like his skin held summer underneath it. You traced the bob of his Adam’s apple, the small tick of concentration in his jaw, soft slope of his shoulders, down, down, down, until your eyes caught on his shoulder blade.
Bright red.
An angry looking cut courtesy of a demobat or maybe the tangled vines that crept through the Creel house and it made your stomach knot with worry.
“Steve–” you started and it pulled his gaze up from his lap.
“Hm?” came out tired, but when he met your eyes and saw the furrow of your brow his own pinched together. “Oh–what is it? Your bandage?”
“No. It’s your shoulder blade,” you said softly, hand lifting to ghost over his back before pulling it back quickly.
He suddenly glanced away, nerves buzzing under his skin and shrugged it off, too casual for how bad it looked, “Oh, I’m okay.”
“Steve, it’s bleeding–”
“I’ll get it after I finish your stitches. Done it plenty of times.”
“But how can you reach–”
“Ah, I just turn around in the mirror and patch it up, it’s really no big deal. Don’t worry about me, Princess. I’ve had worse, it’s not impor–”
You grabbed his hand in yours, stopped him from digging out anymore supplies and he froze, the feeling of his fingers flexing against your palm making your heart stutter in your chest.
“Not important?” you finished his sentence for him, shaking your head, “Yes it is.”
Steve cleared his throat and tried to go back to finding a needle and thread, but you stopped him again and he listened this time.
“Let me help you…please?” you asked, meeting his gaze and his expression melted – soft, defeated.
“I just–it’s–it’s my job to take care of people, I gotta put them first because if I don't who's gonna make sure they're–”
“Steve,” you squeezed his hand, “It’s okay.”
And taking the box from him you let go of his hand and slowly moved around behind him, careful of your thigh, making sure to not bump the tape and gauze he'd pressed to it. Your eyes didn’t leave him, watching how his shoulders tensed, his pulse fluttering against his neck, the way he squeezed his eyes shut and tongue jammed into his cheek.
“It’s okay,” you said again and he nodded, eyes still closed.
“Okay,” he murmured.
Pulling a cotton ball from the supply box you uncapped the alcohol and wetted it, still watching. “This is probably gonna hurt,” you warned, eyes catching the way his hands balled into fists as he nodded quietly. Just get it over with. And when you pressed the cotton to his skin he sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth, a low rumble groaning in his chest.
“Sorry,” you worried, but he looped his hand around his back and pushed it to your waist.
“I’m alright, keep going,” he said, eyes still squeezed shut.
And so you cleaned it, slow, easy, gentle, as he winced and tensed and groaned, gripped your waist like a life line as you washed the blood from his back, red turning pink until you could see the cut clearly.
It wasn’t as bad underneath it all and when you placed the last piece of tape over the corner of gauze you let your hand linger on his back, your fingers resting on the ridge of his shoulder blade.
“Thanks,” he murmured, finally turning on the bed to face you.
A tiny smile flickered at the corner of your lips, but it faded the longer you looked at him. “Why don’t you think you’re important too?” fell out before you could bite it back and your cheeks warmed when his eyes widened.
“Well, I guess I just…I’m the oldest and those kids need me and as long as they’re safe then…” he drifted off at the end, hand moving to rub at the back of his neck and you took his hand again.
“Who’s making sure you’re safe?”
And it quickly pulled his eyes back up to meet yours. Warm honey and burnt caramel, a muddied mixture of surprise and bewilderment and deep gratitude.
“I…” he started, but couldn’t finish and you reached up to tuck a lock of hair out of his face.
“You’re important too, Steve,” you said softly.
And your words struck him heavy, his throat squeezing around everything he wanted to say to you, blinking rapidly against the stinging in the corners of his eyes. He tried to will it away but knew it was no use and closed them tight, tears slipping between his lashes and down his cheeks.
“Okay,” he said, voice thick as he let you pull him close to settle into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping wide and warm around your waist.
And you sat like that there in the dark of the room, in the strange little bubble you’d created for yourselves out of vulnerability and trust, peeling back your layers and letting each other in. Seeing each other for the first time. Learning each other for who you really were.
A new start. A fresh start.
I’ll make sure you’re safe.
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
#asks#my asks#requests#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington stranger things#steve stranger things#steve x you#steve fanfic#steve x reader#steve x fem#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#makeacrappymixtape#summer mix#summer blurb party#steve fic
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ANYONE BUT YOU (2023) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary
you still live at 28 fuckboy lane?
there's a reason why you're alone. no one can trust you.
i still think about the night we spent together.
these last few days really made me realize how much i miss you.
that night at your place, no matter how it ended, it was still pretty amazing.
so... you gonna kiss me now?
you'll always be my rock bottom.
okay, nuzzle my neck. get in there.
we are not together. we were faking it the whole time.
we have to kick it up a notch. make it feel like we're in the ga-ga stage.
you know, i feel really bad about that.
did you catch him measuring his dick with a ruler app?
you scared the shit out of me.
we're getting pretty good at faking it.
it doesn't matter how we found out.
permission to put my left hand on your right buttock?
okay, not in circles. it's not a magic lamp.
are you not wearing underwear?
we do not inherit the earth. we just borrow it from our creatures.
i have a better idea. you just let me do everything.
thanks for being so cool about all of this.
you want a coffee? it's the best n the world.
there's only one bed, but we hung a shower curtain in the middle.
hi. where's your bathroom?
i could have done it myself, but whatever. thanks.
thanks for not stealing my coat.
is that really a two person job?
you would let me die?
they think i'm throwing my life away.
no, that was rude. i apologize to anyone that was listening.
i don't know. i'm not good at this, sorry.
i'm from a different generation.
i'm not talking about love. i'm talking about dick.
all that matters is that we're together.
that's not me anymore. i'm free now. i'm deprogrammed.
no way, that man does not have a heart.
well, that didn't take long.
if i never ask you for anything ever again, can you please just lay off of me this weekend?
let's just have a moment to calm ourselves.
no one cares. no one can see us.
we were on a break, asshole.
either way, someone's lying to someone.
i must have really gotten under your skin.
you used none of those terms properly.
i cannot believe i just said that out loud.
i'm sorry. my life is a disaster right now.
look at this place. it looks like every serial killer reenactment documentary.
no matter how broken something is, there's always a way to fix it.
this whole thing is so new to me.
i don't really like labels, but i like you a whole bunch.
so are you going to ask me out now?
so if we were getting attacked by giant spiders, you would not be able to protect us?
you two know each other?
i'm going to go grab a drink. door's that way if you're looking to sneak out. i know that's your thing.
i'm going to get a drink and toast to never seeing you again.
how crazy is it that we're on the same plane?
why do so many of us feel stuck?
you don't even play tennis.
we're fine if he just stays away from me.
you're such a romantic.
i was hoping you'd come. i wanted to message you, but i didn't know how you'd feel about hearing from me.
they're also a little worried how you're gonna react to all this.
you have a little something in your teeth.
we need to come up with a game plan.
you are so terrible at this.
it's harder than you think.
they know i would never go out with a guy like you.
we just suck face in front of everybody.
you're calling me a fuckboy like it's an insult? i own that shit.
let's just be affectionate. i know it's a foreign concept for you.
you were the one who said there's a thin line between love and hate.
i think it was more of a euphemism for crying alone.
i definitely didn't hate you.
last night was the first thing i haven't regretted in a long time.
i love the weird way you stick your hand down my pants.
#thank you to fxcdboys for the suggestion!!!#rp prompt#rp meme#mcflymemes#rp memes#roleplay memes#roleplay prompt#ask meme#rp starters#roleplay meme#ask memes#roleplay inbox prompts#rp inbox meme#inbox prompt#inbox meme#sentence starter#sentence starter prompt#sentence starters
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Charms
summary: through the years — the Winchester’s little sister’s good luck charm, ends up being a bit of a tradition.
Word Count: 4,214
Winchester boys x sister!reader
Warnings: blood, death, angst, sorry about the italics, idk what I'm doing??
The youngest Winchester, y/n, was welcomed into the family a little bit later than expected. Y/n was 3 when her mom died, and had no one else to go to but her father and two brothers. It was a few years after John had died too, when Dean got a call from one of John’s old phones in the glove compartment. And there she’s was on the other line.
It had been a few months after y/n had been living with the boys. It was tricky for everyone to adjust. Sam and Dean would do anything for her at the drop of a hat, but they all found it difficult to connect at first. Y/n was struggling to feel like a part of the family. She had lost the only adults she knew about in her short life, her trust had been taken away from everything it felt like. Sam and Dean had treated her nothing but kind since the day they found her, and deep down she knew they wouldn’t hurt her, but time would tell.
It was late at night, Dean couldn’t sleep. Going to reach for his headphones, they weren’t in the side table drawer where he normally puts them. He arose, flipping on the desk lamp across the room, starting to look for them quietly, when he came across a box. The box where he always kept special things he couldn’t lose. Photographs of him and Sammy as kids, their mother, different trinkets that held a memory. Dean flipped through a few photos, admiring them sadly under the light of his lamp. Looking down into the box he saw a glaring piece of silver at the bottom. Picking it up, he gazed at the charm bracelet that belonged to his mother. The charms shined in the light as they swayed side to side.
Sam approached the desk in the motel, about to speak as he sees him, but stops. “Hey, uhh. You busy?” He asked stepping closer.
“No, just couldn’t really sleep” Dean says as he packs the things back in the box.
“What’s this, is this mom’s?” Sam asked, sliding the bracelet over to his grasp.
“Yup.”
~
It was y/n’s 10th birthday and it had been a rough year. Another new school, y/n wasn’t staying with Bobby as much anymore since she was older and could stand the long car rides with Sam & Dean. Girls were starting to be mean at school, y/n felt alone most of the time, because she was left alone. In school, and back at the motels they stayed at. The boys felt for her, being so young, constantly exposed to the childhood they had. They didn’t expect that they would ever being doing what they were doing, but they wouldn’t give up on trying to give their little sister the life she needed.
The brothers made it home from finishing up a hunt just in time for y/n’s birthday. They had brought home her favorite food, and desserts. It wasn’t much, but they wanted to show her some appreciation for all of her patience. After finishing up dinner, Sam started to clean up the table. “Alright, looks like it is almost your bedtime.”
“Really? Even on my birthday?” Y/n playfully pouted.
“Your beauty sleep is more important!” Sam smiled back. “Especially being a weeknight. But we will pick up the festivities this weekend, because we’re leaving town!” Sam blurted out without thinking about how that sounded.
Dean looked at him and back at y/n, knowing her reaction wouldn’t be excited. Sam realized he had messed up by saying it so soon, they had meant to break it to her the next day, after her birthday.
“You mean, I have to leave this school, and go to another one?!” She sighed in disappointment.
“Well, yeah. But… we can go wherever you’d like to, on the way to—“
“No, you both said we’d be here for a while.”
“Y/n—“
“Just stop!" The room fell silent. "I know this is what you guys do, but I hate having to move again and again."
"Look, I know you do. It isn't fun for us either, but that's how we.."
"Get our job done, I know Sam." y/n finished his sentence, looking down at her hands.
"What's wrong, y/n/n?" Sam asked, studying her face.
"I just told you." her voice got more quiet. "You sure? You just... look like somethings on your mind." Sam stated. There was a long pause, y/n shuffled around and then looked up at her brothers. They both had that look on their face like they were waiting for her to let out whatever she was thinking.
"How do you guys always know!!?" She threw her arms down in frustration. Trying to stay mad but also wanting to break down from all of the inner turmoil. The boys both half smiled, Sam sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, motioning for y/n to sit down.
"It just gets scary sometimes..... not knowing when you're gonna come back. Boring too. I just don't want you to forget about me." y/n let out a deep breath.
"Sweetheart, you know we'd never forget about you. We look forward to coming back to you after every job." Sam reassured. Y/n let out a half smile, hearing the same line before. "I know."
It was times like these where Dean would always think of his mother. Even though y/n wasn't his mothers daughter, he knew if she were still around, she'd know exactly what to say in moments like these. The two boys were almost left with a loss of words until Dean thought of the perfect thing. He stood up and went outside to the car, rummaging through the trunk. He came back inside with a box in his hands. Going through it, he picked up Mary's bracelet and sat down next to y/n.
"This was... our mom's. I think she would have wanted you to have it." Dean hooked the charm bracelet around y/n's wrist. It felt a little odd to her, knowing Mary was not her real mom.
"Are you sure? I mean, she..." y/n tried not to come off sounding rude, but Dean knew what she was trying to say.
"I know, but trust me. We hung onto it for a reason. All of these charms mean something special, and as long as you have this with you... you will always be protected. And you will always, be apart of this family." Dean held her wrist, emphasizing it's importance. Y/n rotated her wrist, admiring all of the charms.
She smiled bigger, looking up at them. "Thank you."
Dean said nothing, instead bringing his sister in for a hug. Sam raised his eyebrows, blinking away his watery eyes from the moment he just witnessed. Running his hands over his face, he sat down, and embrace his siblings into one.
~
It was y/n's first official hunt. She had just turned 14, and had proven to her brothers that she could take care of herself... as long as she stayed right by their sides. Y/n had been studying, not just in school. Every chance she got, she was prying information from Sam or Dean about hunting. Practicing how to use different forms of defense, and being on the look out for anything. She now had finally gotten herself into the real deal.
The three of them walked through an abandoned farm property, looking for any hidden rooms, since the rest of the house was suspiciously clear. "We should go check the barn out back." Y/n whispered. "Okay, but for now, you stay here." Dean whispered back.
"Why? there's nothing here. We've looked everywhere and there is no nest." y/n stated.
"Well, that's what they want you to think, but it wasn't at the last house so it's gotta be here."
"Shhh!" Sam spat. Hearing a crash from somewhere in the house.
Everyone froze, being as still and quiet as they could, trying to listen for any noises. It was silent, until a floorboard creaked from behind Dean. He jumped around, but before he could strike, everyone was knocked unconscious. None of them got a chance to see what hit them as it was too dark.
Y/n woke up in a cold and dark room. The floor was cement, and the walls were stone, it was likely a basement room. Shortly after coming to, she heard the ceiling above her creak and the walls too. Footsteps thudded on the floor outside of the room she was in, and she heard the ceiling creak once more. Y/n panicked, and resumed her position on the floor where she woke up, pretending to still be knocked out.
The door flung open, she squinted her eyes the most she could while trying to look asleep. A dark figure walked over to her, she could see another figure behind him, holding the door open. She was suddenly lifted off the floor, her body limp and hanging in the grip of whoever was holding her.
"Nope, still out. Let's give it another hour." A deep voice spoke. They let go of y/n's body, letting it thud back to the floor. The two figures left. Y/n sat up slowly, feeling the ache from being thrown onto cement. 'A ladder?' She thought, seeing one against the wall outside the door. One set of footsteps walked away, another set sounded like they were climbing the ladder, as the wall creaked again.
Y/n listened closely to the creaks and heard the ceiling again, 'a trapdoor!' It had to be. It sounded like it was just above the door to the room she was in. After listening for a while, it grew quiet again. Y/n got up and tried opening the door, no luck. It was locked. Y/n knew she had to alert her brothers somehow, wherever they were. For all she knew, they could be in another locked room themselves.
Sam and Dean both woke up in the barn that was behind the house. Dean sat up abruptly in the hay, looking around for y/n once he spotted Sam. "Y/N!!"
"She's gotta be somewhere in that house. C'mon!" Sam hurried.
The two men walked through out the house again, pacing every room back and forth, looking for anything they could have missed. "Dude, I can't find any levers, or buttons... no hidden doors. Fuckin squat!" Dean was starting to get worried and pissed, not knowing how long they were out and how long y/n had been separated.
Sam, stepped on something uneven. Raising his foot, he looked at the dark floor and saw a bit of silver shining in the moonlight. He picked up the object, which happened to be y/n's charm bracelet.
Dean looked at Sam holding up the charms, stunned to say the least. "That ain't good, we need to find her, quick." Dean started, rushing past Sam, ready to look wherever he had to.
"Wait! Dean look...." Sam kneeled down, taking in the details of the floor they had completely missed. They had been walking all over it this whole time. "Dean, it's a trap door!"
They both kneeled down and found a flat switched embedded in one of the floorboards. Sam pressed the switch, a square in the floor creaked open, revealing a hidden basement. "Let's go."
Sam and Dean came across a long hallway, that went in two directions. Both sides of the walls had doors to other rooms. "She's gotta be down here." Sam whispered.
"That probably means the nest is also down here." Dean huffed with worry.
The two split up to start checking the rooms. Dean started with the door next to the ladder that led them down there. He busted it open to find y/n sitting on the floor. "Y/N! Thank god, are you okay?" Dean sighed in relief.
"I'm fine.... did you find my clue?" she asked hopefully.
"Your clue??"
"Yeah, I slid my charm bracelet through the floor."
"You did that? How... what..... I'd love to hear how you came up with that later, because I think you led us right to the vamp nest." Dean smiled proudly.
~
It had been 5 long days since y/n went missing. Of course, Sam and Dean hadn't stopped for anything until they found her. They had not slept, barely ate, there was no breaks, no stopping. They had grown tired after searching almost every lead they had.
The two sat at the table in their motel room in silence, too irritated and exhausted to say anything unless it was important. "I'll be back." Dean stood up, grabbing his jacket.
"Where ya going?" Sam asked.
"To look for y/n".
Sam sighed. Dean always blamed himself if Sam or y/n were in trouble. No matter the situation.
Dean pulled up to the school where the first kid went missing. Putting the car in park, he got out and walked around the campus, trying his best not to look suspicious. School was still in session despite the mysterious disappearances, which made it hard to investigate. Y/n was a big help in the case, being able to blend in as a student, until she went missing too. Sam and Dean had checked all the surrounding places that had a connection, yet, nothing.
Dean circled the courtyard, eyeing the buildings, trying to think of literally anything, when he remembered... The old building behind the school. The one that wasn't in use anymore, they were planning to knock it down soon. It made so much sense now, they were hiding in plain sight. He picked up his phone to dial Sam, letting him know to meet him over there as he picked up the pace on his way over to the building.
Dean scanned the area around him, making sure no one was looking before approaching the front steps. The front doors were boarded shut, he tried to make them give but had no luck. He circled the building to the back door when he noticed a shine catching his eye.
Y/n's charm bracelet sat in the dirt and gravel near the back door. He picked it up with care, and put it in his pocket. Dean was able to get in the building, it was full of mold and broken down old school supplies. He walked down endless hallways, looking through every door until he found y/n. Handcuffed to an old radiator on the ground. Rushing over, he shook her gently, trying to wake her up.
"Dean!" Sam called out from a distance. He stood up and poked his head around the hallway. "Hey! Did you find her?" Sam asked frantically.
"Yeah, I got her. Help me find some of the other kids." He said as he rushed back to y/n. Her head and arms had dried up blood all over them, and looked as if she was dragged through dirt.
"Y/n, c'mon sweetheart, wake up." she slowly nodded, with fluttering eyes, becoming more alert once she saw Dean.
"oh my god, Dean!" She spoke softly, reaching out for him but was stopped by the cuffs. "One sec, I got it." He assured.
Once she was free, she gently wrapped her arms around him. "You found me.... I was worried you wouldn't." Her eyes welled with tears.
Dean held her shoulders and reached into his pocket. "Baby, I will always find you." He said as he hooked her bracelet back onto her wrist. She sniffled a heartwarming smile back at him.
~
Sam and Dean stood in front of y/n, and also y/n. The 3 of them were hunting a shifter, and it had taken y/n's form. Now it was down to which y/n was the real y/n.
"Guys. c'mon it's me! Trust me." y/n whined.
"Stop! No, I'm me. I know it's hard to tell right now but it's really me!" y/n also whined.
"Here...." y/n slowly kneeled down and placed her gun on the ground. The other y/n still clutched her gun tightly. A determined look set in her eyes.
"I wouldn't hurt you guys. You know that." she stood up slowly without the weapon.
Sam and Dean gazed between the two versions of their sister. "I'm not sure you can keep that promise." Sam spat. Y/n lunged at Sam as he pulled the trigger. She fell to the ground, all 3 of them stood frozen for a second before seeing the body start to melt. They all let out a heavy breath.
"Thank you, for not shooting me." y/n snickered, lowering her gun. "How'd you know?"
Sam reached for her wrist. "Guess it wasn't able to replicate your good luck charm." He smiled at the charms on her bracelet.
~
It happened so fast. None of them saw the last one that hid behind the corner. A shot rang out, the bullet snuck past Sam who held his gun up. He fired his weapon, taking out the last guy. He let out a greedy breath, looking over at Dean who gave him the same relieved look.
"Nice one, brother." He patted his shoulder. "You too y/n." Dean and Sam looked behind them, only to jump when they saw y/n clutching her stomach hunched over.
"Y/n!? You okay? Lemme see...... umm, okay c'mon. We gotta go." Dean said frantically after seeing all the blood soaking through her shirt. He lifted her up, carrying her to the car and placing her in the backseat.
"Hang on, y/n." Dean kept calling out from the drivers seat, while Sam reached back, holding onto what ever grip she had on him.
"Sammy..... I can't...." Y/n sounded breathy. Holding her palm over her wound.
"Yes you can, just hold on a little longer for me, okay?" Sam hoped his words would help motivate his sister to find strength. They couldn't lose her, not like this.
Dean peeled into the emergency room lot, barely parking the car. The two men jumped out of the car, rushing to the backseat. When they opened the door, y/n was slumped over on her side, unresponsive.
"Y/n, c'mon wake up, look at me." Dean patted her face, holding her in his arms. Nothing.
As they carried her through the doors, it felt like a blank blur of people bombarding them, saying words. Dean froze as Sam called out for help, telling the nurses what happened. Then he felt people tugging y/n away from him. As they started to wheel her back, Dean grasped her hand.
"Sir, please let go, we need to get her medical attention."
Normally, he would've fought to stay with her, but he froze again. Letting go of her hand which then flopped to the side of her.
Sam and Dean waited an excruciatingly long 3 hours before someone came asking for them. A doctor came out and ushered them through the doors.
"Is she okay? What's the deal?" Dean asked impatiently. All the doctor said was 'come with me' so they assumed he was taking them to her. He remained quiet and led them down the hall, motioning them to step into a room. Once they both saw it was an office, they expected the worst.
"Please, have a seat."
"Doc, not trying to be rude, but I've been sitting for 3 hours. I'd rather not wait any longer. How's our sister?" Dean said straight to the point.
The doctor took a deep breath, folding his hands. "Y/n suffered some really bad hemorrhaging from the bullet wound. Once we removed the bullet, we couldn't stop the bleeding...... she stopped breathing a little while before that."
"I'm sorry, but she didn't make it."
Neither of the boys took it well, especially Dean. He refused to believe anything after that, he kept saying 'no' to everything the doctor said.
"Um... is there any way we could still see her? y'know, say our goodbyes." Sam hesitantly glanced at Dean.
"Yes, of course. Give us some time to prepare her. In the meantime, I would start discussing arrangements for-"
As soon as Dean heard that, he turned around and walked out.
Sam stayed and waited until he was able to see y/n. The nurse left to give him his privacy. As soon as he saw her, he broke. Slowly walking over to the bed with tears blurring his vision, he kneeled down and picked up her frail hand. He cringed at the fact that it was still warm, but that warmth was fading. Sam eyed her charm bracelet that was still on. He pinched the charms between his fingers, rotating it around.
"I'm sorry..... I'm sorry we couldn't...." Sam trailed off. Wiping away his tears, he looked at his sister for a while. Taking in her features, trying to permanently memorize what she looked like when she smiled, laughed, looked at her brothers with her big y/e/c eyes.
"I love you."
~
Dean had stormed out of the hospital. He felt like raging against all evil that had ever existed, so upset he could flip a car. He had always imagined he'd go like this, but not his little sister. Only 20 years old, and it was all taken away from her, from him, from them. Dean didn't know what to do or where to go, so much was going through his mind. He opened baby's driver door and sat inside, letting the silence consume the vehicle for a few moments before speaking up.
"Cas..... we could really use you right now."
.....
"Y/n is dead. And... she shouldn't be. I know it's a lot to ask, but this is y/n we're talking about."
.....
"Cas...?" Dean sat a while longer, waiting, waiting for Cas, or a sign. Anything.
"Please, Cas. I'll do whatever I have to, I'll sell my soul, I'll make a trade. I don't know, anything."
Still, nothing. No response. Nothing.
Sam walked outside to the car since Dean wasn't answering the phone. He saw him sitting in the car and slowly opened the passenger door, getting in next to him.
Neither of them said anything at first.
"Uh, she's in there, whenever you're ready." Sam tried to hide his sniffles. Dean stayed quiet.
"This isn't the end." He finally spoke up.
"What?"
"She's not dead for good."
"Dean, we can't make another deal like that, if that's what you're thinking. It just leads us into more problems."
"Sam, this is y/n! I don't give shit what I have to do."
Sam stopped there, he knew it wasn't a good time to reason with Dean. He needed to give it time.
"Here." Sam held out his hand. He placed the object in Dean's hand. Dean opened his palm, now holding y/n's charm bracelet.
"What are you doing?!" Dean raised his tone, agitated.
"What do you mean? I-"
"Why did you take this off of her!?" Dean growled.
Before Sam could say anything else, Dean opened the door and stormed back into the hospital. Sam followed, delaying himself a little bit to give Dean some space. He was hoping this would give him some time for closure.
Dean's anger led him into y/n's room a little fast. He slowed his vigorous pace when he saw her. He slowly approach the bedside and sat next to her, gently hooking the charms around her wrist once more. A tear escaped his waterline when he looked up at her, not receiving the smile she always gave him. He squeezed her hand in his, lowering his head with the gesture. Dean sat there for a while in thought, when her hand started to feel different. Almost as if it was less limp. He squeezed it some more subconsciously, but this time felt her hand clench underneath his. He shot up, looking at y/n confused.
"y/n?" Her chest rose up and fell heavily as her body took a breath. "Y/n!?"
Sam overheard and peeked in. "Dean, wha-."
"Get the doctor, now!" He flipped his head around. Sam nodded and ran out confused.
Y/n's chest was now rising and falling in a rhythm, Dean kept saying her name and sweet things. Then her eyes slowly opened.
"y/n!" Dean let out an overjoyed cry. "Oh! sweetheart...."
"help... owh." y/n managed to wheeze out, trying to catch her breath.
"Dean.." she caught a gaze of him. He smiled and fixed her stray hairs on her forehead. "It hurts t-t much." she breathed out, then doctors flooded into the room with Sam close behind.
"Y/n!!?" Sam breathed out as he caught sight of her.... alive.
The doctors started giving her oxygen, medicine and checked her vitals. Dean backed up to give them space to work. "Dean! no.." y/n mumbled.
"It's okay, I'm right here! I'm not going anywhere."
Sam pulled him aside. "Dean! What did you do?"
"Nothing! I swear! She... she was gone when I came in, and then..."
"Cas."
"So, Cas did this?"
Dean nodded, looking back at y/n.
All the commotion died down, y/n was stable. The doctors were confused as hell, but ruled it out as a medical miracle, and were pleased to inform Sam and Dean that she'd be alright.
"So, who do I thank?" y/n asked.
"Cas." Dean smiled.
"Glad to have you back, kid." Sam grinned.
"Me too.... gotta love my good luck charm!" she smiled, jingling her bracelet around.
#spn#sister winchester#sister!winchester#sister!reader#spn fan fic#spnfandom#winsister#dean winchester#supernatural#sam winchester
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Fellow Travelers | The Orange Elephant in the Room
Alright, let's talk about it.
For those who've watched the available episodes of FT so far; I'm sure we've all noticed the citrus haze they all seem to be living in.
Especially if you've attempted to edit/GIF any portion of it. The struggle is real and I'm sure has inspired many colouring dilemmas.
And we're all asking "WHY?!".
Now, I'm writing this having not looked up anything about it. So I dunno if anyone responsible has made a formal confession.
One of my initial thoughts around it was; okay... so is this just a 1950s thing? But after watching (and rewatching) episode 2, I feel like it's part of the story in a different way; It's clearly a stylistic choice, yes (I should hope that doesn't just happen by accident). But it also seems to double as a narrative choice.
Putting the rest, with image examples, under a cut because it's kinda long.
Warm vs Cool
The conclusion I've come to is pretty simply, one that we've seen used across media in a lot of movies and shows. Warm tones used to colour scenes that are meant to literally be 'warm'; a loving environment or somewhere where the character(s) feel like they can be themselves. Cool tones used for scenes where it's quite the opposite; a cold hostile environment where the character(s) does not feel welcome. Gradients in between for all the neutral/'greyarea' spaces.
Consider
Cool/neutral outdoor bench scene (with park spies around):
Maybe it's an indoor/outdoor thing? No...
Indoors (even with the mandatory orange lamps nearby) they stay pretty neutral:
Night time/day time thing? No...
Night time vs day time in Tim's apartment:
Compare it to day time neutral alone Tim in the same room before. The difference is that he's with Hawk, out of sight of any would be naysayers.
So yeah, while I am mad about the colouring for giffing needs, I do think what they're doing is pretty neat, and the POC in the show look glorious in the warm tones.
The warm/cool motif is dialled up even more in episode 2, with the contrast of Mary's warm welcoming party and Hawk's cold af family gathering (even though they still have the orange lamps/sconces around, they add nothing to the warmth):
🥺 Ugh, Tim at Mary's party. Might be my favourite part of the episode, alongside the kissing n spooning. Anyway...
The transition of Mary from the same living room where she hosted that party, to the kitchen they were just questioned in:
That transition made me start paying more attention and go back to rewatch previous scenes just for colour themes.
Interestingly Hawk's apartment seems to live in this neutral/warmish space. It was more warm earlier in the episode, especially when they were in the bedroom the morning Tim left his glasses. But in general it's a lot less warm than Tim's apartment when compared; still their skin glows with a hint of tangerine:
Of course, not only the lighting/colouring but their outfit choices say a lot. Tim is usually in the warm browns with his dress, while Hawk pretty much sticks to black, white, grey (hints of a cool toned blues and reds in his ties). This coupled with the differences in their own living space probably reflects a lot about the character and how 'welcoming' they are to others. Idk... or I could just be thinking too much about it.
This is another really interesting transition in episode 2. As Hawk hangs up the phone in that cool toned side room, opens the door to the main room of a gay bar, the warm tones literally seem to absorb him in. Which makes sense, this is obviously a gay friendly place in San Francisco. He doesn't have to try to hide any part of himself, like he probably was still trying to do on that voicemail to Lucy just before.
Now, I could go through and screenshot a load more examples (some scenes with Lucy are interesting, and that lounge/club), but you probably get the gist, you see the pattern. If not before, on your next watch, you'll certainly see it.
This has got longer than intended; I'd be surprised if anyone got this far, I did NOT fully organise my thoughts before I started this, I just began rambling and I feel like it could've been more organised and laid out better. But if you have thoughts about the colouring, I'd really like to see those too. 🤗
#fellow travelers#orange#ft spoilers#ft motifs#tim laughlin#hawkins fuller#colouring#lighting#colour grading#tim x hawk#hawk x tim#gay#lgbtq+#warm tones#cool tones#colour theory#giffing things#long ramble#this show make we wanna convert every pic/gif to greyscale
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I Only See Daylight
Chapter Thirteen
Pairing: Din Djarin
Rating: E
Chapter warnings/tags: SMUT, first time, piv, fingering, bit of dirty talk & praise kink, loving sex, helmetless!din (in the dark), snuggling, gratuitous use of "baby" as a pet name
Chapter length: 5.2k
Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info | Full Masterlist
notes: enjoy :D also just a quick note that i'm so grateful for all of you wanting to be on the taglist, but i'll only add you if you have your age in your bio/if i know you're over 18!
been sleeping so long in a twenty-year dark night (now i’m wide awake); and now i see daylight, i only see daylight
“He says there’s a rogue Pyke cell causing trouble in the town,” Din tells you as the door to your suite closes. The kid is curled up in his arm, already half asleep. “Should be a simple mission. He didn’t ask for my help, but I wanted to offer it.”
You smile, heart warming at his words. He is always so quick to help his friends. Never hesitates. It’s one of your favourite parts about him.
“Do you mind?” He asks. “I can stay, if you’d feel more comfortable.”
You shake your head. “It’s alright. I’ll be safe here.”
He nods his agreement, then tells you he’s going to put the kid to bed. Before he does, you sneak a quick kiss to Grogu’s forehead, then watch with a smile as Din turns and takes him into his little room.
As you head into the bedroom, removing the hair pins that have kept your hair back all evening, your stomach does a little flip as you remember Din’s promise from earlier. That he’d help you relax.
He could’ve meant any number of things. But his tone of voice made it pretty clear just which thing he meant.
Alongside the excited anticipation comes some nerves, though. The only time you’ve really been intimate was very different to what this could be. There wasn’t a bed, for starters. A million questions are rushing through your mind at once as you perch on the edge of the bed, staring ahead at nothing, listening to the soft sounds of him getting the kid comfortable in the other room.
Is he going to want to take your shirt off? To see you? Are you going to be able to see him, his outline, or will he ask you to keep your eyes closed? How far is he going to want to take things?
How far do you want to take things?
Well, at least you know one of the answers: As far as he’ll let me.
“Hey,” his voice comes through the quiet. He’s walking through the bedroom door, closing it softly behind him. Then, after watching you for a second, he twists the lock on it.
Oh, kriff.
“Is that okay?” He asks when your eyes dart down to the door handle, to the lock he just clicked shut.
You nod, enthusiastic. The light in here is dim and warm, orange lamps on each wall lighting up the space. He’s glowing amber and dark silver all at once. Just standing here, watching you, his fingers flexing at his sides. You wonder what’s going on in that beautiful mind of his. What he’s planning on doing next.
You get so caught up in the beautiful mystery of him that you barely notice him stepping closer.
“Cyar’ika,” he says quietly. You watch as he crouches down in front of you, reaches out his hands and runs them up the outsides of your thighs. A soft sigh escapes your lips, your eyelids fluttering closed.
“Din,” you breathe out.
“What do you want?”
And, kriff. If you answered that in all honesty, in all detail, you’d never stop listing the ways that you want him to touch you.
“Just you,” you whisper, and cup his helmet between your hands. “Please.”
He nods in response. His hands come away from your legs, only disappointing for a second because you soon realise that he’s taking his gloves off, placing each one on the floor beside him. Then he touches you again, this time running his bare palms all the way up from your knees to your thighs, around the sides of your hips, landing eventually on your waist, holding you tight.
You’re already crumbling under his touch. Subconsciously, your thighs clench together as you feel the first thrum of arousal shoot through your centre.
His fingers are on your face, then, just one of his hands gently cupping your cheek. His bare skin is so warm, soft, not familiar enough for your liking. You wish you could feel him like this always; wish you could run your hands over every inch of him.
“Din,” you find yourself saying, gripping tight to his shoulders.
He slides his fingers back into your hair. Shit, it feels so good. “I want to turn the lights off,” he says unexpectedly.
You nod quickly, knowing that means he’s probably going to take his helmet off, let you touch his face—
His hand leaves your skin and instead finds the light switch on the wall, sending the room into darkness just a second later. A tiny beam of light shines under the door from the living room, and you can just about see his outline, your eyes getting used to the new dark.
Then, he takes his helmet off.
And—the rest of his armour.
Oh, fuck.
Your hands are on him as soon as you hear the last of the beskar being removed, and you run your palms all over his flight suit, down the softness of his chest, up over his shoulders, his arms, his neck. Then they find his hair, maybe the best place to be, and you dig your nails into his scalp in your eagerness.
He bites back a moan, his nose so close to yours that they brush together. “Cyar’ika,” he says, “you don’t know what you do to me.”
You do know. You know, because he does the same to you.
“I want—” He cuts himself off. Like he’s not sure if he should say it.
You lean in, kiss him. Hot and fast and urgent. “Tell me what you want,” you whisper into his mouth, “Please, Din. Whatever you want, you can have it.”
He’s panting for air as he pulls away, pressing your bare foreheads together. There are loose curls falling in his face, a combination of your hair and his. “Just,” he says, “give me a second.” And he pulls away.
You feel cold, all of a sudden, the lack of his body right in front of you the only thing you can feel. You see the vague outline of his silhouette backing up towards the wall, and then he stops.
“Are you alright?” You ask.
He chuckles. It’s so fucking gorgeous outside of his helmet. “Don’t worry,” he tells you, “I’ll be back. Just—”
A zip.
Multiple zippers, pulling, undoing.
Then, the sound of heavy fabric falling to the floor.
Oh, fuck.
“Din…” you breathe, your mouth suddenly dry. You can barely see the shape of his shadow, only the side of him that faces the light. It’s less than you could see of him back on the ship that night.
And yet you know, you feel, that he’s bare before you.
He crouches down in front of you again, reaching for your waist. He doesn’t even have to search for you in the dark.
“Can I…?” You ask, hands hovering uncertainly in the space between you.
He dips his head close to you, but misses your lips, instead diving right into your neck. One of his hands gently pushes your hair away, and then he’s kissing your neck, open-mouthed and wet. “Touch me,” he whispers against your pulse point. “Please. If you want to.”
You’ve waited so long for this.
His bare skin. Right here. Just for you.
The fact that he even had to specify If you want to is almost enough to make you laugh. But first thing’s first:
You touch his face. Run your fingertips through his beard, back into his hair, scratching at his scalp. Then your hands move down to the back of his neck, and you’re used to meeting resistance there, the fabric of his cowl stopping you from going any further.
But, fuck, he’s naked.
“Oh, kriff,” slips from your mouth and comes out closer to a sob than anything else. Your hands slide down the bare stretch of his back, feeling hair and scars and his muscles shifting as he continues to mouth at your neck, his hands gripping tightly to your waist. “Fuck, Din, it’s you…”
“It’s me, Mesh’la,” he breathes, gently nosing at the neckline of your shirt so he can kiss the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. He sucks, pulls your flesh into his mouth.
You gasp at the sensation, but your hands don’t slow in their path. His skin is so warm—hot—beneath your palms as they run over his back, down his ribs, catching on the bacta patch that still sits over his knife wound. It’s as you move to touch his stomach that you realise your hands are only a part of this. It’s your mouth that wants to feel him next.
“Din,” you whisper, “please, on the bed, I need to…”
“What do you need?” He settles his nose on your cheekbone, his moustache brushing right up against the corner of your mouth. His breath is so hot. So sweet. So familiar.
Before answering him, you can’t help it; you turn your head, catching his lips in a kiss that can only be described as desperate. Your hands find their way back to his face, their favourite place to be when he’s kissing you like this. He’s gripping your shirt in his fists and his tongue pushes against yours, slides, gives and takes just right.
You tug at him, urging him closer, onto the bed. “Want to kiss you,” you say.
“You already are,” he points out with a smirk.
“Want to kiss you everywhere,” you pull harder on him, and he gets the message, breaking away from your lips for long enough to stand up and climb onto the bed. You follow him, but you can’t see him, and you accidentally kneel on his thigh. “Sorry,” you whisper.
He chuckles. “It’s alright,” then his hands are on you, gently pulling you close.
“Do you have night vision, or something?” You ask as he guides you to settle on his lap. You can feel, now, that he’s leaning back against the headboard, his body stretched out on the bed beneath you.
“I just always know where you are,” he tells you.
You snort a laugh. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, and you take the luxury of sliding your hands, slowly, up from his navel, through his chest hair, to his shoulders.
“Kriff,” he curses softly, tugging you in even closer. You’re almost pressed chest-to-chest, and his hands are holding so firm at your hips that your shirt has rucked up a little.
You realise, then, that you’re still devastatingly clothed.
“Wait, let me…” you start to unbuckle your trousers, then pause, ask, “Do you mind if I…?”
“Whatever you want,” he says.
You take off your pants, and then your panties, because right now the only thing you can think about is wanting his hands on you again like they were before. For him to touch you, feel you, to let him go places no one else ever has…
You hesitate at your shirt.
It’s dark. He can’t see you. He wouldn’t be able to see your scars even if you did take your shirt off.
But his hands. He’ll feel them. Feel you. Every curve and line you were taught to hate, every scar they gave you to make it worse.
You can’t.
“Hey,” his soft voice, “it’s alright. You don’t have to.”
You glance at him like you’ll be able to see his expression. Instead, all you can see is the outline of one side of his face.
It’s enough.
You let go of the hem of your shirt, settling in his lap, getting yourself comfortable again. His hands find your waist once more but they don’t linger, instead spreading flat against your back, separating so that one slides up towards the back of your neck, the other pressing as low as he can get on your spine. He’s cradling you, wrapping you in his arms.
The need to kiss him comes back.
You start at his lips, but soon trail the familiar path down to his neck. You meet no resistance from his armour though, and you can keep going, so you do. His clavicle, his shoulders, his arms, lifting them up one by one so you can press kisses all down his bicep, his elbow, his forearm. Then to his chest, nuzzling your nose in the hair there, letting your mouth open around his nipples and feeling your stomach buzz with arousal at the noise he makes. You feel it in his chest, the vibration against your face, in your mouth.
He’s so real here, so hot and soft and perfect, all muscles and curves and soft edges amongst the sharp ones. You can feel scars on his skin, just small ones here and there. Your mouth pays special attention to each one, peppering feather-light kisses to every inch of them.
All the while, his hand sits in your hair, gently massaging at your scalp. It feels so good, so fucking good, the gentle tug he gives every now and again just making it better.
“Cyar’ika,” he says when your lips find their way back up to his neck, sucking a mark to the other side this time.
“Mm?” You murmur.
“Can I touch you?”
You lift your head, your mouth leaving a wet spot on the underside of his jaw. “Please,” you whisper against his lips.
Then, his hands are everywhere and nowhere all at once. (He could cover every inch of your skin with his and it still wouldn’t be enough.)
He slides his palms down your arms, then over your stomach, circling around to your hips and down to your ass. He grabs it, one cheek in each bare hand, and squeezes.
“Kriff,” you breathe out, holding both of his bare shoulders tightly. “Din, please…”
He brings his mouth to your ear, panting hot and beautifully into it. Without another word, one of his hands returns to your front, this time dipping between your legs, carting softly through the hair over your cunt before finding your clit, lifting the hood and pressing gently.
You all but fall into him, every muscle in your body somehow relaxing and tensing all at once. Your grip on his shoulders tightens for a second before one of your hands slides up into his hair, taking a firm grip of it in your fist.
“Gods, you feel so good,” he whispers into the shell of your ear as his fingertip rubs gentle—too gentle—circles around your clit. “So hot and wet already for me, Cyar’ika…”
“Only for you,” you promise him, dipping your head into his neck. Not to kiss, just to rest your forehead there, to feel his pulse beating beneath your nose.
He slides his fingers down to your entrance, gathers some wetness before gliding them back up through your folds, feeling every inch of you, teasing, not quite getting back to your clit. You can’t help it; you grind down against his hand, trying to find some kind of friction, wanting him on you and inside of you so badly that it has you throbbing with every fast heartbeat.
He presses his cheek to your hair, his spare hand still grabbing at your ass, sending shocks of pleasure to your pussy with every squeeze. It only spurs on the pulsing of your entrance, wanting him so badly.
“Din,” you say, voice husky and broken, “please…baby, please, need you inside me…”
“Fuck,” he curses, sliding his fingers down to your entrance. “Love it when you call me that.”
“Baby?”
“Kriff, yes.”
A breathy smile finds its way to your lips. You lift your head, place your mouth right over the shell of his ear. Then, finding the best sultry voice you can muster, you say, “Baby.”
His moan is enough to kill you, right here on the spot. You wouldn’t need to know if heaven exists or not; you’re already there.
Especially when he slides his fingers inside you, two at once, the perfect amount of stretch through your dripping wetness. Your walls clench around him, pulling him in, desperate to feel friction.
“Oh, baby,” you breathe, feeling his muscles flexing beneath your hands at the name, “Baby, that’s so good.”
He tilts his head, mouthing at your face, wherever he can get to. He finds his way back to your lips eventually and starts to kiss you slowly, in time with the slow push and pull of his fingers inside you. The heel of his palm brushes against your clit every time his fingers are as deep as they’ll go, and it feels so good, but it’s not enough—
You grind down against him, finding more friction. He lets you, going with your movements, allowing you to find pleasure in every move that you can. You’re gasping, your mouth all but watering into his.
He tilts his hand a little so he can use his thumb on your clit, rubbing in earnest circles, matching the increasing pace of his fingers’ thrusts.
“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” you curse, pulling away from his lips to press your forehead into his. You wonder if he can see your eyes gazing into his. You can’t see his, but knowing they’re there, looking at you—always looking at you—is enough.
“Yeah?” He asks. “Just want you to feel good, Cyar’ika.”
You nod encouragingly. “I’d feel even better with you inside me,” you find the courage to whisper.
“I am…” he stops himself, realising what you mean. Beneath you, you feel his still-clothed cock harden, jumping at the invitation. “Oh,” he breathes, his hand stilling between your legs. “Are you sure?”
You pull back just enough that you’d be able to look into his eyes if it wasn’t pitch black. “If you want to,” you tell him, stroking a hand down his lovely, lovely face.
“Gods, I want to,” he says, and you giggle breathily, leaning in to kiss him. “You have no idea how much I want to.”
Reluctantly, but knowing it’s for the greater good, you climb off his lap. He follows you, curling around you as you lie down on your back, feeling him flip over so he’s hovering on top of you. As soon as you’re comfortable, he’s diving in, capturing your lips in a gorgeous kiss. Your hands find their way to the back of his neck, grasping his hair, then one slides down his bare back because it can, because you’re not about to waste any moment that you can get your hands on his skin.
He shuffles to get his underwear off, and when he’s back on top of you, you feel his cock bobbing against your thigh.
“Fuck,” you whisper, “fuck, baby.” You reach down and take hold of him, wrapping his length in your fist. It somehow feels hotter in your hand than it did before; maybe it’s that his body heat is surrounding you in every other way, hovering above you like a safety blanket, something so familiar and brand new all at once—
He moans, leaning down to suck at your collar bone as you gently tug his cock, enjoying feeling the pulse of his heartbeat, the veins over his length, the bead of liquid pooling at the tip.
“Please,” he begs into your neck, “can I?”
You don’t even have to think about it. You were ready to say Yes before he even asked. “Yes. Please, fuck, Din, fuck me.”
His breath stutters. He takes a second to gather himself, then gently pushes your hand off of his cock, instead taking it in his own hand and pushing his hips down into yours. He slides the head through your folds, and the slick sound that fills the room is enough to send shocks of pleasure all the way through you before he’s even really touched you where you need him to.
“Are you ready?” He asks, so gentle, so caring, his forehead pressed into yours. His skin is sticky with sweat, his hair falling in your face.
You hold the back of his neck, and nod.
Nothing could have prepared you for this.
All that time you’ve spent fantasising about it, watching him sit in that damn pilot’s chair with his thighs spread wide, admiring the width of his shoulders, even feeling his cock in your hand like before—
You could never have imagined it as good as this.
He’s thick, spreading you open so deliciously, filling you up like nothing ever has.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” you whimper into his ear, clinging to the back of his head like it’s a lifeline, never wanting to let him go, “Fuck, your dick feels so good inside me…”
He moans, his face pressed against your neck. (He likes it there. You can only guess the amount of marks he’s left on you tonight alone.) “You feel so fucking good,” he breathes out like a prayer onto your skin. “Fuck, sweetheart. Can I—can I fuck you?”
“There is literally nothing I want more.”
A soft chuckle vibrates against your throat.
Then he moves. Slowly, at first, holding himself up with his elbows on either side of you. The push and pull of him, so hot and big and wet and lovely—your walls clench around him and you feel it, feel the fluttering against his cock. He’s inside and all around you and you’ve never felt anything like this, not the sensation between your legs, on your neck, in your very soul—
He’s fucking you slowly; carefully, even. Like he’s holding back. You know how strong he is, and although having him inside you is better than any of your wildest fantasies, you need more.
“Din,” you whisper, sliding a hand down his back, feeling his muscles flexing with each soft thrust. “Fuck me. You can go harder, faster, whatever you want,” you promise him.
“Are you…”
“Yes. Fuck, baby, fuck me as hard as you want, I can take it…”
The moan he lets out is positively sinful, and he lifts his head to kiss you, his mouth open wide against yours, tongues sliding together in a second. You let him kiss you, will always let him kiss you.
Then he starts to thrust faster. His pace increases slowly, steadily. He brings down one of his hands and presses it against your clit, rubbing in circles at the same pace as his cock inside you, getting harder and faster and harder and faster—
“Baby,” you gasp as the force of each of his pushes starts to move you up and down the bed. You feel your tits bouncing beneath your shirt, the fabric creating beautiful friction on your nipples. “Oh, baby, harder, please…”
As if he’s more than happy to oblige, he does exactly as you ask. He’s fucking you hard now—probably not as hard as he could; you can still feel him holding back a little, but still—and he bottoms out at the top end of each thrust, hitting against your cervix almost hard enough for it to hurt.
It’s fucking delicious. He’s kissing you like his life depends on it, breathing into your lungs. His finger works hard and fast over your clit. He’s so coordinated, everything is working together, sending sparks of pleasure through every single inch of you, from your mouth to your clit to your fucking toes and back.
“Wanted you for so long,” he says into your mouth, “Kriff, I can’t believe you’re letting me…”
You cart your fingers through his hair, nails scraping his scalp and down his back.
“Kriff,” you curse as he pulls away to press his forehead into yours. He’s panting, sweat beading on the back of his neck. “Fuck, Din, baby, that’s so fucking good—”
“You’re so perfect,” he whispers like a promise, “Mesh’la, gonna make me come…”
“Come for me,” you ask him.
“You first,” he says, earnest, “Please. Need to feel you come around my cock, I—you feel so good, so good around me, Cyar’ika, you’re—” his words are cut off by a fucking whimper coming from his throat.
Fuck. It’s enough to have pleasure coiling tighter in your belly, rising closer to your orgasm. He’s fucking you into the mattress, your body bouncing up and down on his cock without you even needing to try, and you let your hands hold onto his biceps, feeling them tensing with every move he makes into you.
“That’s it, Mesh’la, you take it so good…”
“Fuck, Din, that’s so—your cock, you’re so—” there are no words, it’s building in your core, the press of his finger against your clit getting harder and faster and harder—“Baby, I’m gonna—!”
You do.
Pleasure explodes inside you like a tightly-coiled spring finally snapping. You fuck yourself onto him, your hand finding its way to your clit, rubbing yourself alongside his finger, trying to draw out the pleasure as long as possible. It sparks under your skin, a wave of white-hot glory spreading across every inch of you. You feel your walls pulsing around him, fluttering, begging him to come. “Baby, that—holy shit,” still, no words come to you that could possibly convey it. Instead, feeling his thrusts getting more and more erratic, “Can you—can you come inside me?”
“I’ve—got the implant, I—” he’s holding back, his voice choked and strained—“Can I?”
The aftershocks are still pulsing through you, one of your favourite parts of the come-down. “Fuck, baby, please.”
Oh, fuck.
He spills inside of you, so hot and fast and too much to stay inside when he’s fucking you like this, all fast and hard and out of control—
It pushes out around his cock, coating the bed beneath you, a mix of both of your pleasure.
He’s kissing your neck again, open-mouthed and gorgeous. His thrusts slow gradually, and you feel his orgasm not just in his cock but in his shoulders, his back, the hitching of his breath against your skin.
“Cyar’ika,” he pants, nosing against the shell of your ear. “Sweetheart, that was…you’re…”
It’s nice that he can’t finish any of his sentences, either.
Breathy, you laugh in his ear. Your hands hold each side of his face, just so grateful that you can touch him, feel his bare skin and heat all around you.
“I never thought I’d—I want to—”
You shush him softly, pressing a long kiss to his temple. “This is perfect,” you settle on, because it’s all you can say, and it sums everything up.
He nods, earnest. Lifts his head, presses your foreheads together. Carefully, he removes his fingers from your clit—your pussy pulses at the lack of contact, immediately wanting him back—and instead brushes them down your cheek, leaving a light trail of wetness in their wake. You close your eyes into his touch, tilt your head to kiss his fingertips.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“For what?” He’s still inside you. You don’t want him to ever not be.
You find your words catching in your throat around a lump of tears that has seemingly appeared from nowhere. Because he’s here. He’s taken everything off for you. Not just his armour, his clothes, his helmet. But his walls. His facade of hardness, impenetrable beskar around the things that he feels. He’s shown himself to you, not literally, but in every other way he can.
And you’ll never be able to thank him enough for that.
“You’re really good at fucking me,” you say instead, and he laughs at that, all breath and husky voice.
He kisses you, soft and chaste. “I’m gonna pull out,” he warns, soft. “Is that okay?”
It has to happen at some point. But what if this is the only time this happens? What if everything goes wrong; what if he changes his mind?
You hold him tight, lift your leg up to wrap around his hips. “Don’t let this be the last time,” you whisper. Plead.
You can feel the frown that creases his brow, pressed against your forehead. “I promise,” he says. “I’ll always want you like this, Cyar’ika.”
Only a small part of you could believe such a beautiful, nightmare-defying promise. But you lean into that part of you, and nod.
Keeping his face right above yours, he pulls out, slow and careful. It doesn’t hurt, but it might as well, because the loss of him inside you leaves you feeling cold, open, vulnerable.
You can’t help the whimper that comes past your lips.
“You okay?” He asks immediately. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” you shake your head, but there are tears in your eyes, and you can’t let him go. Your hands grip the back of his neck, knuckles probably turning white, because the idea of him leaving you alone in this bed forever suddenly seems like the most likely outcome, even though you know he never would. “No, I just…”
He strokes your face again. His soft, wet cock brushes against your thigh.
“Just,” you stammer, “hold me. Please?”
He kisses you. “Can I clean us up first?” He requests softly. “Just don’t want you to get cold. Then I’ll hold you all night, I promise.”
Knowing that he means it, you nod, and release your iron grip on him.
It’s freezing cold, suddenly, when he removes himself from above you. You curl in on yourself, feeling so raw, cold wetness sticking between your thighs.
But he’s back in a moment, carrying a few warm, wet wash cloths and a towel. “I’m here,” he says softly, finding his way back to the bed. He kneels between your legs—you feel the mattress dip—and places a gentle hand on your ankle. “Can I?”
You nod. Your muscles relax as you feel him slowly wipe at your thighs, your centre, where your wetness and his release are drying onto your skin. He cleans you thoroughly, using his hands to feel the job he’s done, making sure he’s got it all. Then he moves to clean himself, and soon the wash cloths are on the floor, and he’s gently shuffling you out of the way to put a towel under you on the bed.
He lies you back on it, then crawls up the bed, his bare skin against yours again. You breathe out in relief, hold onto him.
“I’ve got you,” he says. “Roll over?”
You do. His arms are around you in a second, your back pressed flush against his bare chest. A sigh comes from your throat as every single muscle relaxes. He’s here. He’s naked. He’s giving you parts of himself that he’s never given to anyone else.
What did I do to deserve this?
“Rest, Cyar’ika,” he breathes into your ear, all hot breath and soft lips and bareness.
You grasp his hand, pulling it up to cradle against your chest. Your lips find his knuckles, kiss each one. You want to tell him how perfect this is, how much you adore him, how you never dreamed of being fucked that good.
But sleep is coming for you fast. And, to be honest, you’re a little scared of telling him all that. Because you’ve never said those things before.
Words aren’t needed, though.
You drift off in his arms.
notes: hope you enjoyed! thank you as always for your wonderful comments and thoughts on the last chapter. all interactions are appreciated, but reblogs are so helpful and comments fuel my need for validation. next chapter is going to be a long one, so be ready for that!
ps. life is about to get BUSY (even more than it already has been) and i'm not very well to top it all off but i will try my best to get the next chapter out on time❤️
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The 'Vigil' Keeper
Pix looked up from his book as the bell rang. It was Xisuma Void, the principal of the school the next street over. Pix chuckled to himself, he remembered that someone told him that the kids were calling Hermitopia for some reason. Pix smiled. The shop had few customers this time of day and at this day of the week. It had been an uneventful Tuesday.
“Good afternoon Xisuma. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing well. How are you?”
“I’m great. Thanks for asking. So what brings you to Pixandria on this dark and gloomy afternoon?” Pix replied.
Pix pulled down the sleeve of his dark blue sweater. It was cold even with all the candles lit. Pixandria was not a dark place, it was far from it. Between the candles lit all around to the replica of the ancient ‘Vigil’ to the four mysterious ‘conduits’ (lamps Pearl painted for him) he put around the place, it was quite bright.
“Could I pick up the 200 candles I ordered?” Xisuma asked then quickly he said. “No dyes or scents.” Pix smiled again.
“Of course. What do you need it for?” Pix said while he went under the counter to grab the order. Xisuma laughed.
“Well Tango said how it would be fun to do a lab with candles for the kids and Cleo immediately agreed saying it would be fun to experiment with the wax for an art project.”
“Ah I see. Looks like you’ve paid for everything beforehand.” Pix was about to hand the box to X when a couple kids ran in and stared at the ‘Vigil’.
“Um King Pixl Riffs? What is that?” A boy with dirty blond hair and hazel eyes pointed to the ‘Vigil’.
“Well. It is what I call the ‘Vigil’ . Every time an emperor is ‘pranked’ by another empire I put up a candle and if they get 12 candles I make a paper lantern of the color of the empire. I have a list of who did the ‘pranks’ and we talley them up at the end of the year and then I reset the ‘Vigil’.”
The kids who had entered with the boy now had big smiles on their faces.
“You guys prank each other?” A boy with curly brown hair asked excitedly.
“Like we do at school sometimes?” A girl with black hair said. Pix laughed as Xisuma sighed.
“What kind of pranks do you do?” The trio shouted in unison.
“Well one time Jimmy and I changed all of fWhip salmon pictures to cod pictures but he caught on quickly and they were all changed back within a day and fWhip gave Jimmy a salmon statue saying sense he loved salmon so much he should have it. And there was another time when Pearl and I went around asking everyone weird or confusing trivia and it all bottled down to who makes the best honey which isn’t really a prank but a fond memory. We also all said hi to Gem each in a different way then we normally did it but how another emperor said hi.”
When Pix stopped talking.
“Thank you King Mr. Vigil Keeper.” The children said and they ran out of the store no doubt going to Pearl’s to get a drink of hot cocoa that she sells in the winter. The name made a chill go up Pix’s spine.
Pix waved goodbye to Xisuma. He flipped his sign to closed and headed down the very long stairs to the basement. The wooden stairs creaked under his feet but as he got lower the stairs became stone and you could hear his sandals slap against the stone. The walls have a spot for candles to light the path but Pix usually ignores them and thinks about events that happened during the day. The basement has two layers where the stairs turn to stone. You can see Daivd and when you get to the end of those stone stairs you will step on to the ground only to find that it is sand. If you walk a bit in this sand you’ll find a very old and ancient monument called The Vigil.
Pix looked at The Vigil every candle was burning bright. He sighed. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He took it out and pressed the answer button.
“Hello Zloy, how are you doing?”
“Pix, Pix the Copper King might be out tonight! Can you come?” An excited Zloy said.
“No sorry I have…” Pix trailed off thinking of an excuse.
“Oh. Are you free for recording tomorrow?”
“Let me check my schedule and I’ll get back to you.”
“Okay. Lyarrah and I are going out to record in the field tonight.”
“Alright. See yuh tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.” Pix took off his blue sweater. He put on a brown undershirt and pants. He bore a sandy color jacket with copper shoulders and lining down. And went up to The Vigil and put on perfectly on top of his head a copper crown. He then grabbed his trident.
The Copper King smiled as he exited his underground lair. He turned on his com and took his watch.
#empires smp#hermitcraft#empires au#pixlriffs#xisumavoid#this is my first fan fic#hope you like it#zloyxp#Emperors of Empires Street#Children of the town#emperors of empires street fics
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Fundamental Differing
Chapter XIX: Time Marches On
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a/n: i can’t apologize enough for leaving yall hanging like that. this chapter is short but i have plans to finish this entire fic, don’t you worry. this is barely proofread i needed to get it posted SORRY!!!!
tags: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, adult content, slight nsfw in beginning, angst, estranged lovers
summary: you and eddie spend a night out
—
Spring 1991
Eddie’s POV
“Hi, I’m Eddie. I’m an alcoholic and an addict.”
“Hi, Eddie.”
“I’ve been clean for about a week now, but it’s been hard. I’ve lost a lot of respect for myself over the last year, and I’m ready to confront that.” The circle of fellow AA members listen respectfully as Eddie rants about the last few months, excluding you from the memory as much as he can.
Finally, someone speaks up. “Do you think this ex of yours would help or hurt your journey?”
Eddie shakes his head sadly. “I don’t know anymore, really. I don’t want to think about that right now.”
—
Your POV
You shouldn’t. To say yes to him would be stupid, damaging, confusing, and stupid. But god, you want to say yes. Though you’ve barely had a drop to drink, your brain is fuzzy, clouded with intoxication, drunk off Eddie’s kiss. His hand is frozen on the elastic waistband of his borrowed boxers, not moving an inch in either direction as he waits for your response.
“Eddie,” You sigh, stalling.
“We don’t have to. I get it. We shouldn’t.”
“It’s gonna hurt us both,”
“Destroy all the progress we’ve made.”
You wince. The more you say about it, the less you can excuse just how stupid it would be. “I don’t think we should. I want to, believe me. But there’s so much to unpack, so much I need to think about. I can’t have you swaying my bias.” You try to make a joke, to get that sad scowl off of Eddie’s lips. He looks up at you, head still level with your naked chest.
“I totally understand.” He nods, shifting to lay back on his side, and you frown at the sudden loss of his warmth.
“Do you want me to go?” You’re suddenly shy. Rejecting a man, Eddie or otherwise, always feels like a trap.
“Only if you want.” There’s no anger, no hurt in his voice, he’s perfectly neutral. His big, pretty eyes scan over your body slowly, but they’re not hungry. It’s as if he’s trying to commit your form to memory, like he knows he won’t be seeing it again.
“I don’t want.”
Eddie snickers, the ice cracking. “Okay. But if you’re stayin’,”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll put a shirt on.” You swing your arm over the edge of the bed, blindly feeling until you grab the fabric in your fist. You feel Eddie’s eyes still on you as you pull his shirt back over your head, wishing you’d been willing to risk it all.
-
Eddie’s POV
“I’m sorry.” He blurts it as you’re tucking yourself further under the covers. “That wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have even thought to do that.” He tries to read your expression in the dim lamp light, but it’s like you’re speaking a foreign language. “I just, y’know, miss you. I got carried away. I just dumped this huge thing on you then tried to fuck you!” You startle at his exclamation. “God what a manipulative, shitty-“
“Eddie?” You interrupt, and he snaps his mouth shut. “Shut up.” He nods feverishly, miming zipping his lips. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions, good or bad. I wanted to, I want to, just as much as you do. Regardless of what you could have said to me, I would have wanted to.” You caress his cheek, and he revels in your touch, no matter how small. “Just give me a little time.”
He perks up at that. Time? As in, the future? As in, there’s a chance? “Time.”
You nod, scooting your body even closer to his, tangling your legs with his, wrapping yourself around him like a possessed vine. In the crook of his neck, you rest your head, and Eddie closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling. He’ll wait for you, as long as he needs to. With each exhale of yours into his neck, he feels himself drift further into sleep, just as your breathing evens out, your weight a comfort on top of him.
—
He wakes up, and you’re gone. Where you’d once lay now hosts a folded piece of torn notebook paper, Eddie’s name scrawled in your handwriting on the front. It’s a short note, but Eddie reads it over and over as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.
Eds,
Thank you for last night, every second of it. I miss you too, desperately, but we need time. I hope you’re willing to wait for us.
I left early before Mama Steve could see us, would’ve said goodbye but you looked so peaceful, so I'll settle for seeing you later. Thanks for letting me find you.
Love,
Y/n
Eddie feels his cheeks burn with each reread. Love. Love love love. LOVE!!!!!! He’s giddy, feeling like a fuckin’ teenager being asked to be your Valentine, or some shit. It puts an unreasonable amount of pep in his step for being so early in the morning. For once, he’s not hungover, not craving a drop. He wants to see you, though, more than anything. “Chill out, Munson. Steel yourself.” Eddie collects his belongings, stuffing them into his duffle before throwing the door open to meet everyone for breakfast.
—
He spots you, looking past the rest of the crew to where you’re sitting with Robin, talking animatedly as she shoves bacon into her mouth. Robin looks entranced, and Eddie can only assume you’re catching her up on last night’s events, and his cheeks burn at the thought.
You spot him approaching, regarding him with a shy wave as he yanks a chair up next to you. “Good morning,” he greets you, then Robin, attempting to keep his voice from shaking with nerves. Something about seeing you now, after what almost happened, has Eddie sweating with nerves.
“Good morning!” Robin chirps, far too perky for this hour. “We were just talking about, um,” She can’t come up with a lie fast enough, and darts her eyes to you for help.
You only roll your own. “Real subtle, Rob.”
“You know I’m awful under pressure!”
“You could’ve just kept it at ‘good morning’!” You turn to face Eddie, your face still soft from sleep, tired from the nights on the road. “Sorry,” you say meekly, “I needed to talk to someone. Unfortunately my best friend has no qualms about her blabbermouth!”
Robin scoffs in mock offense. “This is so not my fault, you-“
“If I may,” Eddie interrupts, “It doesn’t bother me at all. I would tell everyone I knew, if I could.”
This causes Robin to turn on him. “So, why don’t you?”
“Uh, well, it’s complicated,” Eddie starts, scratching his head anxiously. “I don’t exactly know what it is we’re doing, it’s nothing I can explain at this point in time really, there’s a lot that-“
“Boo!” Robin interrupts, throwing Eddie a thumbs down gesture. “We all know you two are in love, isn’t that all that matters?!”
“Whoa!” Eddie exclaims at the same time you shriek, “Robin!” causing her to startle.
“What? I’m just calling it like I see it.”
“Okay, that’s enough!” You shove yourself from the table, abandoning your half eaten pancakes. “I’m gonna go help load the buses. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast. Eddie,” He looks up to where you’re standing, immediately losing himself in your pretty eyes. “I’ll uh, see you later.” And before he can respond you’re hustling out of the hotel.
Eddie turns back to Robin, eyes narrowing at her. “What the hell was that?”
“What?!” She questions through a mouth stuffed with waffle.
“Why would you say that? As if I haven’t scared her enough already, you had to drop the L word on them?!”
Robin swallows thickly before responding, “Hey. I have no clue what else you’ve told them, they don’t tell me everything believe it or not. All I know is that you almost hooked up last night, but didn’t. They didn’t tell me why not, and I asked! But it’s pretty fuckin clear you both wanted to, so of course I’m dying to know why.”
“I’m sure you’ll learn soon enough.”
“They said it was up to you to tell me.” Robin crossed her arms over her chest.
Eddie shrugs. “It’s not something I need everyone to know. I promise you’re not missing out on anything.”
Robin only groans, and shoves another buttery bite into her mouth.
—
Your POV
Steve is double checking his list when you approach him in front of the buses. “Mornin’ sunshine,” You greet him, wrapping your arms around the middle of his stiff torso. “How ya doin’?”
Steve wraps one arm around your shoulders, the other still holding his clipboard. “I’m alright, we’re almost ready to go. You weren’t in your room this morning, you okay?”
You sigh, letting him from your grasp. “I’m good, yeah. There’s some stuff I wanna talk to you about, though.”
“Yeah?” Steve drops his clipboard to his side, turning to face you. “I’m all ears.”
“I uh, well. Eddie and I talked,” you pause, heeding his reaction, but Steve only nods for you to go on. “He told me everything. About New Years, about the meetings,” you watch as Steve catches on to what you’re saying. “He’s getting better, or he says he is. He didn’t drink last night, hasn’t used in weeks. He told me you saved his life.”
Steve gives you a shy smile. “He said that?”
You nod, feeling your own smile widen. “He’s surprised you aren’t bragging to anyone who’ll listen. It’s a huge thing, saving the life of a rockstar.”
Steve shoves you playfully. “Hey, who do you think I am? Like I’m gonna go around parading the fact that my best friend tried to kill himself. I’m not a monster.”
You laugh at his defense. “No, of course not! I just. I guess I still have questions.” Steve gives you a questioning look. “I didn’t see him at his worst, but you did. You watched him fall apart when it should have been me.” You shake your head sadly, unable to look at your friend.
“Y/n, I need you to get a grip.” His tone startles you, and you snap your head up to look at him.
“Excuse me?”
“This isn’t your pity party! You just learned something so serious, so important about the guy you’re clearly in love with, and your first instinct is to wish you’d been the one calling the ambulance?!” The anger in his tone stings your cheeks with embarrassment. He’s right. “I get it, I know that time wasn’t easy for you, either. But you had no way of knowing. You stopped calling him, stopped talking about him altogether.”
“Are you saying this is my fault?!” You’re angry now, too. “Eddie is a grown up, he makes his own decisions, don’t you dare try insinuating it’s my fault he was using.”
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes screwed shut in concentration. “No. No, that’s not what I’m saying. Of course it’s not your fault, but Eddie’s an impulsive guy, with little to no critical thinking skills. He’s not gonna think every little thing through.”
You sigh, defeated. “I just don’t know what to do from here.”
Steve rests a hand on your shoulder, like a dad about to drop a birds and bees talk on his teenager. “Whatever you want.”
“What?”
He shrugs. “You know everything now, right? What’s left?”
“A lot, actually.”
“Like?”
“Like, how do I make sure this doesn’t happen again? How do I trust him? How do I trust myself?”
“Okay, slow down. No one has those answers. You know that, right? You’re never gonna know what you’re capable of until you try. You gotta put the work in.”
You look at your friend quizzically. “Where’d you get all this relationship wisdom? Last I checked, you’re still a bachelor!”
He blushes at the mention. “I may or may not be seeing someone”
“Steve!” You shove him, and he stumbles. “How dare you keep this secret from me?!”
“Sorry! I wanted to tell you but, you’ve been preoccupied!”
It’s not a dig, but you pout at him. “I have been, huh. I’m sorry, I haven’t been that great of a friend lately.
“Hey I get it, I wouldn’t be either if I had the hots for Eddie.”
“What do you mean if?”
It’s Steve’s turn to shove you, sparking a brief wrestling match that ends with him in a headlock.
Steve throws his arm around you again. “You know. You really do drive me nuts. But I put up with it because I love you.”
“I love you too, Stevie.”
“So, what’s the plan now?”
God, what a loaded question. “Guess we’ll find out!” Steve groans, and you cackle before hugging him a third time.
—
You have a few days off in Philadelphia, and you’re ecstatic. There are tattoo shops, record stores, and endless options for good food in the city, and you’re excited to explore it all. The only problem, though, is the person you want to explore with.
“Eddie, over here!” “Right here, Eddie!” “How’s tour treating you?” “Partying hard?” The paps swarm him and his band, seemingly ignoring your presence right behind them. “Great work on the new album, Eddie.” “What was the inspiration behind Sweetheart?!” The questions are shallow, excuses to keep snapping pictures of the front man as he shields his eyes.
“Thanks, guys, I appreciate it. You gotta go, though. My manager’s gonna be pissed.” He laughs nervously, and you fight the urge to catch up to him. “Hope you’ll come see us on Friday.” He adds half heartedly, and eventually they stop following, letting him, as well as the rest of you, to enter the hotel without further disturbance.
Steve makes a bee line for the front desk, leaving you and your bandmates to wait with Corroded Coffin in the lobby. You stand next to Eddie, not too closely to draw attention, but close enough to feel the tension in his shoulders. “Hi.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but Eddie hears you.
“Hey.”
“You alright?”
He shrugs. “Just stressed.”
“You wanna go out when we get settled? There’s some stuff I wanna check out.”
He nods, a wordless agreement, and you nod back. Steve comes back with the room assignments, and you have one to yourself for the weekend. For now, at least. You have a lingering feeling you won’t get much time alone.
—
Eddie’s POV
He waits outside the hotel, a cigarette hanging in his mouth as he watches the nightlife around him. Kids on their way to bars, to clubs, giggling and shouting without a care in the world. Some teens crossing the street do a double take as they pass him, and he hears them talking. “Guys seriously, that was him! That’s Eddie.” He chuckles to himself, still finding himself shocked that people know who he is.
“Hey, you ready?” You step out of the hotel door, onto the sidewalk next to him. You��re in street clothes, a pair of high waisted jeans and a tucked in Bikini Kill shirt, your hair tied up on your head.
Eddie nods, and takes up stride next to you as you lead the way down the street. At first, neither of you speak, letting the silence weigh on top of you as you find your footing. It’s not long though before Eddie can’t take it.
“Where are we going?”
You shrug, like it wasn’t your idea to go out. “There’s a secret show here tonight. It’s way low key, but Robin heard through the grapevine from a very reputable source.” Your words make him nervous. Something about a night out with you makes his skin vibrate. You lead him down another side street, and outside a dive bar, a line is forming, mostly of people around the same age as you and Eddie, mostly wearing what looked to Eddie like his wardrobe in high school. He tries to read a few of the shirts, but nothing is visible enough to give away who this band might be.
You get up to the front of the line, and the bouncer doesn’t even bother asking for an ID. “Wow, Y/n L/n and Eddie Munson. Wasn’t sure if you’d show!” Despite the bouncer’s size, his voice is gentle, kind. He gives you and Eddie a wave as he unclips the red rope, the only obstacle between the street and the store.
“Who are we seeing?” Eddie half yells so you can hear him over the music, following closely behind as you slither your way to the stage.
“You’ll see!” You tease. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about this!” You reach the stage, where guitars and a drum kit are waiting to be played. “Figured you’d be the one telling me about it, actually.” You head to the bar and order yourself a drink, not bothering to ask Eddie if he wants anything.
“You wanna give me a hint?”
You shake your head, straw wiggling in the glass as you sip. “It’s better as a surprise.” You wink at him, and he follows your lead to the stage as the lights dim.
Before anyone sets foot on stage, Eddie’s heart jolts. He recognizes the drum kit somehow, and he feels the knot in his throat tighten. No fucking way. The overhead speakers buzz before a recorded voice announces, Hole In The Wall Club would like to thank its sponsors for putting tonight’s event on. Please remember there is no flash photography inside the venue, no smoking, and absolutely no crowd surfing. Then a loud, electrifying applause rattles the room as Metallica set foot on what is probably the smallest stage they’ve been on in years.
“No fucking way.” Eddie says more to himself, but you look up at him, beaming. “No goddamn fucking way!”
“Surprise!” You giggle, and Eddie has to fight the urge to kiss you right there. You’re right, he should have known about this, but he’d been so distracted by the person in front of him he could barely retain anything else.
They open with For Whom The Bell Tolls, and Eddie launches himself into the mosh pit, limbs vibrating with excitement. You’re close behind, drink splashing as you jump around with him.
—
so so very sorry for how much time has passed since the last chapter. i won’t promise to update regularly but i definitely haven’t forgotten!
tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @littlepotatobeansworld @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc | send a message to be added🫶
#eddie munson x reader#rockstar!eddie#angst#smut#fluff#stranger things fanfiction#strangerthingscentral#90s au#eddie x y/n#eddie x you#st4#fd#fundamental differing#new kid fic
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Confession headcanons 2
Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.
This was written around the 3.1 version of the game so characters' personalities and information about Sumeru might differ today.
Tighnari
✧ To say Tighnari wasn't happy with your behaviour would be an understatement. When he found out that you decided to eliminate the withering part of the forest yourself and you were injured, he was furious. He yelled at you first. Soon after, however, he calmed down.
✧ He didn't say anything the whole time he was tending your wound. At first you tried to explain yourself but you saw that he didn't want to listen to you. There was only dead silence.
✧ Collei gently investigated things between the two of you in the following days. She was also the one who came to change your bandages. You were very concerned that Tighnari didn't come to see you even once during your recovery. He made an ointment for you but he never came with it himself.
✧ Once you felt well enough to be able to stand on your own feet, you decided to talk to your friend. He received you and listened to you. However, he couldn't forgive you for putting your health at risk. He asked you to tell him why you didn't ask other forest rangers for help. You were afraid to tell him the truth. But what scared you more was the thought that he would fire you and you'd never see him again. So you did it.
✧ When you said it was because you wanted him to finally appreciate you because you fell in love with him, he didn't say anything for a moment. Only in retrospect did you realize how stupid you were. So you waited with your heart pounding for what he would say.
✧ What give Tighnari were his ears. He moved them towards you. After being with him for a long time, you were able to read his signals. He was happy with the confession. The boy didn't say anything for a moment. He walked over to you, pushed your hair out of your face and made you promise never to scare him like that again. He was mercilessly worried. As you nodded your head, he placed a soft kiss on your lips.
✧ Somewhere from the house next door, you could hear Collei's excited squeal. She was bad at pretending she didn't know anything in the days that followed.
✧ You have been punished for insubordination however. Even as Tighnari's girlfriend, you won't get a adventage. He won't tell you that he planned to give you a month to check the lamps and instead you got a week...
Alhaitham
✧ His confession was unplanned and somehow forced by an unfavorable turn of events.
✧ When you told him you only had a few minutes to run, he looked at you with disgust. How did you know he'd be here at this time? He didn't tell you anything about trying to steal forbidden books from the library. And you showed up there in the middle of the night.
✧ You led him towards a secret passage. Or at least that's what you thought it was. When he asked you why he should trust you, you were stunned. You thought you knew him better. And he was afraid that you would hand him over to your enemies. Hearing footsteps, you told him he had no choice anyway. So he followed you, clutching a bag of valuable information.
✧ When he found the guards at the entrance, he was ready to blame you. Until you started using your vision, screaming for him to run. A curtain of water covered his figure. The Akademiya couldn't find out that he had robbed them, otherwise it was all for nothing. Eventually, however, the man pulled you by the hand, saving your life at the last moment. Now he really believed you.
✧ You almost made it past the last patrol under the cover of night. As you mingled with a group of people having fun, the chase eyed you suspiciously. At that moment, only one thing came to mind. Saying a silent apology, you pulled Alhaitham's lips to yours. You drowned in a colorful, slightly drunk group of party people. To your surprise, the man didn't stop kissing you even after the pursuers left. He pulled you to him again.
✧ On the way to the port of Ormos, you asked him if those kisses meant something. He answered the question with a question: did you want them to be something more? He never planned to fall in love with you and has never been in a normal relationship, but he's willing to try for you.
Dehya
✧ Serving the Homayani family, it was not difficult to run into Dehya more and more often. She seemed to be an even better person each time. Her strength and devotion to Dunyarzad particularly touched you.
✧ Dehya as an intelligent woman realized her feelings before you realized yours. But she preferred to wait. After all, she was supposed to leave here in a while. Was it wise to associate with anyone?
✧ As the head cook, you always managed to leave some baked goods for her or cook her favorite dish on the side. It has become a tradition to such an extent that when she didn't find you in the kitchen one time, she immediately knew something was wrong. She asked the helpers, who said that you felt worse and went back to your little room.
✧ When you didn't answer her knock on the door, she decided to just come in. The sight of you, unable to move, terrified her. She knew the sight of those scales. Words stuck down your throat. She had never seen them pn you before because you hid them so well under your uniform. Dunyarzad also suffered from Eleazar, so she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed sooner.
✧ Despite your protests, she asked her employer to stay at the mansion today and spend the rest of her day looking after you. She didn't tell your secret to anyone.
✧ She asked how much time do you have left. However, she had a feeling that whatever you answered, she would consider it too small a number. It was the first time you saw Dehya shed a tear. You wiped it with your hand, saying that sadness doesn't suit her.
✧ This evening she decided to confess her feelings to you. You protested that your illness would only make her suffer. She said she didn't care. All that mattered was whether you felt what she felt. You confessed your love to her, she kissed your forehead, after which she fell asleep in your arms.
#genshin impact x reader#tighnari x reader#alhaitham x reader#dehya x reader#dehya#alhaitham#tighnari#genshin impact#headcanons#over teyvat
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Jonsa - The Americans Au inspired
Right hand firm, she slowly stands the gun from the side table and points at the door. The clock-lamp says its only midnight but, in her mind, it could have been anytime at all. Between feeds, naps, changings and crying – God, so much crying – she doesn’t have a sense of time anymore, she just knows that she finally managed a quick shower and that she should probably get some sleep now, even though she knows that she won’t.
Not that it matters anymore.
There is someone inside her house.
Please don’t wake up, she begs internally as she slides the bassinet under the bed without taking her eyes from the damn door. She can hear the steps approaching, whoever it is it’s not even trying to be quiet. They must be in the very last flight of stairs now… and coming directly to the room. She puts her back to the wall right next to the entrance and looks at the handle slowly turning…
--------------------------------------------------------
After a day of sneaking around, trying not to get caught as he made sure those recorders were inside the office of the Secretary of Defense himself, the last place Jon expects to be attacked is inside his own home by his own wife. But as soon as he opened the bedroom’s door she had him face on the floor, knee on his neck and a gun to the back of his head.
“What the fuck?? Sansa, it’s me!” he tries to say while getting a tight grip on his hair.
She is breathing hard and not letting go of him.
“Sansa, breathe, it’s me” he asks calmly and then more softly “Let go of my head, love”. That seems to snap her out of it, and she relaxes her hand while slowly sliding her knee of to the side.
He winces and starts to turn on his back. She was not joking around. If he was anyone else, he would have a bullet making home in his skull right now.
“Jon?” she asks, and he can hear the tremble in her voice “No harm done” he says, taking the gun from her and reaching to put above the bed. “Come here” he takes her to lie above him, shushing her as she sobs on his neck.
He shouldn’t be surprised. He knows she is good in combat, has seen it firsthand a few times. But Sansa’s abilities have always fallen more on the realm of disguise, manipulation and perfect to a t strategic planning. She has half of this suburban neighborhood in love with her and if anyone asked, yes, the Snows are as normal as a young couple can be, with just the right amount of American pride and cynicism towards their government. Nothing to see.
“You told me you would be home late; how could I forget that?” she says once she is calmer.
“It’s ok, we are both tired.”
“I almost killed you, Jon! Trust me” and he can hear the desperation in her voice.
“oh, I trust you all right, but you didn’t” he says making her look in at him “you didn’t.’’
“How can you be so calm?” He sighs and the movement makes him aware of a throbbing on several different parts of him. He is going to take at least two Tylenols before going to sleep tonight. “We hardly live normal lives and the matter of fact is, we are tired, you even more so with Lyra all the time insi”- he pauses looking around – “Sansa, where is Lyra?” he asks starting to feel a panic bloom in his chest.
“Oh” she jumps from the floor and goes to the side of the bed “I put her under the bed.”
He goes close to her while she gently pulls the bassinet.
“I can’t believe she didn’t wake up after all this.”
She really didn’t seem bothered at all, Jon noticed, while looking at his sleeping daughter. Every day he comes home and he is amazed anew when he looks at her. Not too long ago he didn’t even dare entertain the thoughts of having a family of his own. And now they have Lyra. The moonlight coming from the window makes her look like a little angel delivered to them straight from heaven.
“Sometimes when she is sleeping.” Sansa breaks the silence “I get scared that she isn’t breathing. So, I just stay up looking at her. Seeing if her chest is moving.”
He frowns.
He did not know that.
“After finishing this assignment today” he says pulling her to him “I don’t think we are going to be called for another task for some time. You will sleep more; I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Thank you” she says softly.
He kisses her shoulder “We are a team.”
“Perhaps you can start wearing a bell then.”
“Too soon” he says even though he chuckles.
“Jon” she turns in his arms, serious “I am so, so sorry.”
“I know Sans” he kisses her forehead and then her lips for good measure “I know.”
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Ch. 6 - A Mother's Promise
The day had finally rolled around where you knew to expect Toji. The racing in your chest increased in frequency with each passing hour. You hoped that your behavior was normal, that you weren't letting any nerves slip through for those around you to start asking questions.
You hoped there was a way to work things out with Toji. To be completely honest, you hoped you could just get rid of him altogether. If he was so dangerous but loved his son enough, he'd stay away. But you didn't want to get your hopes up.
When the evening rolled around, you put Megumi to bed as usual. It didn't take him long to fall asleep, again as usual and very different from your Tsumiki. You kept her on your mind as you took a seat in the rocking chair that sat at the corner of the room. A single, dim lamp on a night stand remained lit as you waited for Toji, reading a novel you had picked out from the Zenin's small library. This time you also made sure to stay in your yukata, rather than be caught in another silk nightgown.
From there, you waited. And waited, and waited. It got to the point where you wondered if he would even show, but then again he arrived at nearly three in the morning the week prior. You had put your book down and relaxed into the cushioned rocker in an attempt to get a nap in before his arrival, but he had perfect timing.
As soon as you closed your eyes, the shoji door opened quietly and carefully. His tall, dark figure stepped into the room. He loomed briefly toward the crib where Megumi slept but then took a few steps closer to you where he could be better seen, his facial features becoming visible in the warm light.
"Hello," you greeted first in a low, serious tone. Despite your seriousness, your heart picked up its pace again. He was intimidating to look at, toned muscles nearly bursting out of the usual tight fitting t-shirt he wore. You knew he was a man who could snap your neck like a twig at any given moment.
"Hi," he greeted back informally, crouching so that his elbows rested on his knees. He stared at you intensely, black hair just falling into his vision. "So, what have you got for me?"
You took a deep breath and looked up as if to pray to the gods. You then sat forward on the rocking chair, sitting up straight to maintain your serious demeanor.
"Do you care about Megumi?" You asked. "Like, seriously?"
He furrowed his brow at your question. "Is that really even a question?" You stared at him as your answer. "I come here every week, to a place I'm not supposed to be. I take what I can get."
"If you really care and love Megumi as your son, you'll stop coming here," you declared. Attempt number one: see if you can actually get him to stop coming. "For his safety."
He gave a single chuckle which burst out into soft laughter. He hung his head with a smile on his face as his laughter concluded. "I come here to see my son. I don't plan on stopping any time soon, even if that means your death." His laughter had completely stopped and his tone had run cold. He was serious.
"As I thought," you muttered under your breath. "Well then, I figured...I'm able to take Megumi anywhere as long as I leave a detailed record of my destination and time spent in each location. Perhaps you can tag along, meet us at the locations." You paused for a moment and watched his face of contemplation. "You are awake during the day, right? This three in the morning stuff isn't every night?"
He gave a crooked, close-lipped smile and stood up, looking down at you with the same smile. "I can make it work," he agreed.
"So that's a yes to the three A.M. stuff," you sighed. "Coming with us will keep you off these grounds and keep us safe, so long as the Zenins don't send some kind of a spy to see if I'm really going to these places."
"I wouldn't be surprised," he lowly chuckled. "This is, honestly, more dangerous that me showing up here in the early morning." You swallowed hard at his response. He was right, but you still felt more safe keeping him away from the rest of the Zenin clan.
"Well," you ignored his statement for the time being, "tomorrow I need to go to the store to buy some formula and other groceries," you sighed. "I figure we can do that, and then I can pack a picnic for the sakura viewing...assuming I can find a spot somewhere. How's that?"
He kept his crooked, close-lipped smile but his upper lip quivered as if he wanted to smile further. "Sounds good to me," he agreed. "We'll see how long this lasts."
The two of you stood in silence after your agreement, staring at one another. The silence was incredibly loud, at least until Megumi began to stir as if right on schedule.
You quickly rushed to his side before he could get any louder with his whimpers. You held him close on your hip as you went toward his dresser where you kept the formula at the ready. You were about to put the bottle to his lips when you looked at Toji. He was standing by with his arms crossed over his chest, he had been studying your motions as you handled his son. The look on his face was stone cold as usual, but something about the look in his eyes...it was warmer than usual.
"Do you...want to feed him?" You asked suddenly. Megumi's hands were grasping outward for his bottle as you held it away. He was beginning to get fussy again.
Toji's arms dropped to his side as his look softened entirely, a bit of shock in his expression. He gave a single nod as you approached.
You carefully exchanged Megumi first, trading cradled arms as Megumi continued fussing. Toji instinctively began hushing as if he hadn't not been caring for him for the past few months. You then handed the warm bottle to him.
"How long did you get to raise him before...?" You trailed off as you carefully watched Toji feed his son.
"About a month," he sighed. There was a sad look behind his current expression as he looked down at the baby in his arms. "But I was...not in a good place."
"Still aren't," you interrupted without thinking. You quickly covered your mouth with your hands as he glared up at you.
"I had just lost my wife," he continued, now sounding a little choked up, clearing his throat to fix it - which was unexpected, "the only woman I actually cared about...for once. She was unafraid of me. She wasn't happy with what I was doing, but she still supported me without question to put it shortly." He cleared his throat as he finished his sentence as if to regain his normal composure. You clenched your jaw while listening to his story. "We didn't know one another for very long before tying the knot, Megumi came along not too long after. But when the time came...you know the rest."
"They told me that you sold him to your family," you muttered. Toji looked up at you in this moment. He appeared irritated with your addition.
"I did," he grumbled and turned his attention back to Megumi. "I didn't have a choice but to bring him here," he explained sourly. "He needed something more stable. I had to...work. It's no place for an infant. But I couldn't let my uncle get away with just taking Megumi from me, so I told them he had inherited a special technique and at least got some compensation for it." You were still a bit angered by a baby being sold to the family, but you at least could see why Toji had gone through with it. It ultimately was the better option for Megumi, for the time being. Toji was clearly a man that was smart but still somehow so shitty.
"So nobody knows if he for sure has the Ten Shadows technique?" You wondered. Toji nodded in response.
"At least not yet, but the probability is likely considering the genetic factors involved," he grinned down at his little boy with a sense of pride.
Megumi had finished his bottle and Toji walked over to the dresser to put the bottle back down. Toji then lifted the baby to his shoulder where he gently began to pat his back. With the view in front of you, you could hardly believe it. A supposed stone-cold killer was somehow so gentle. How could this man possibly be a killer?
#toji fushiguro x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x y/n#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji
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Unplanned Encounters (Part 2) {Smut}
NOTE: Hello everyone! I ended up taking a little longer than I should have on my midterm after work yesterday. I knocked out early. Here is the post I promised :) Have a great day!
Y/N = Your name
~~~ at his hotel room ~~~
Milo unlocked his door to his hotel room and let me go in first. It was pretty huge for a hotel room. It had a small kitchen and a dining area.
“You can set your stuff down on your bed there” he said pointing at a neatly done bed.
“Thanks again Milo… for everything. You've been a great help.”
“Anything to help you out.”
I smiled at him. “Can I use your shower? I want to wash away the smell of alcohol on me.”
“Haha, sure. It's right there. Do you have comfy clothes for the night?”
I always have a backpack with extra clothes in my car. I'm glad I had it tonight. I checked my backpack tonight and I only had a set of day clothes (blouse and pants), undies, bra, and socks.
“No really… I can just sleep in the clothes I have right now.”
“Hold on.” He said and walked over to his luggage. He pulled out one of his black shirts. He came to hand it over to me. “You can use this shirt. “
“Thank you. I will be right back” I grabbed the rest of my stuff and went to go shower.
~~~ After Shower~~~
As I got dressed, I noticed how long Milos' shirt is on me. I meant we do have a height difference so it makes sense. I brushed my teeth right after. I unlocked and opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom.
I began walking towards my bed, feeling like I was being stared at.
I turned around and saw Milo in the kitchen with his mouth open. I noticed he had different clothes on. Just some sweats and a white shirt. He looked hot.
“What? Are you okay?” I asked him
He closed his mouth and started to blush “Yeah.. umm.. You look beautiful in my shirt.”
Now he's making me blush, “Thank you.”
“Do you want anything to drink or eat?” he asked
“Just some water.” I said as I walked over to my bed. I got in the blankets and got comfy.
He got me some water from the fridge and handed it over to me. He laid down on his bed and did the same as me.
We talked for a bit more before we drifted off to sleep.
~~~ A few hours later, 2AM ~~~
I woke up from a nightmare I had. It was basically a repeat of when I caught Michael with the girl in our bed.
I tried going back to bed, but I was just tossing and turning.
“Y/N?” I heard a deep and raspy voice ask.
Sh. “Yeah. Sorry. I can't sleep.”
“It's fine. Nightmare?”
“Yeah. About when I caught him cheating..” I said softly.
He turned on the light from the lamp next to him and walked over to my bed. Since I was still laying down, I was looking up at him.
“You’re gonna be alright. Trust me”
“I know. I just can't forget it yet.”
“May I?” He said as he slightly raised my blanket.
I nodded and scooted over a little bit.
He got under the blanket with me. He pulled me closer to him. He was cuddling me. How does he smell so good all the time?
“It will take time for you to move on from this, but its okay to feel hurt.” He said as he looked down at me.
“I wish I could forget about it now.”
“Give it some time, Y/N. He should be the one feeling like sh. How could he lose a girl like you?”
“A girl like me?”
“Yeah. I just met you tonight, but you are really amazing. I feel like I know you so well.”
I looked down shyly for a bit. I felt his hand on my chin and he made me look at him.
“You’re a wonderful girl, Y/N. I'm sorry he didn’t see that.”
Looking at him at his big brown eyes, I felt like I was melting. He also has a way with words. He began leaning towards me, I closed the gap between us, making our lips brush against each other. We ended up kissing.
Every negative thought I had from the least 24 hours went away. I felt butterflies in my stomach. I have never felt like this with a kiss. Not even michaels.
Milo quickly pulled away.
“Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I swear I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you.”
“Milo, it's okay… It was good.” I admitted.
I put my hand on his cheek, started to lean towards him. Our faces were close.
“Y/N… Are you sure you're okay with this?” Milo asked as our lips brushed against each other again.
“Yes..” I whispered.
He immediately kissed me again, placing one hand on my waist. My hands found his hair. I tugged it lightly. I heard him groan against our lips. I felt his hands exploring my body. He started to kiss my neck.
“M-Milo.” I moaned. He stopped kissing me and pulled me on top of him. He pulled my shirt over me. Exposing my bra.
“Fuck…” He started to undo my bra. He tossed it on the side of the bed. He began touching my breast. Massaging it and pinching my nipples. “You’re so hot, Y/N”
I rocked my hips against him. He groaned. He started to suck my left nipple. I felt his tongue swirl around them, driving me crazy causing me to moan his name louder.
He got me off him and began taking his pants and underwear off. He got on top of me.
“A-are you sure, Y/N?” He asked again.
“Y-yes M-ilo”
He lined up at my entrance. He teased me for a bit by going up and down with his dick on my entrance.
“You’re so wet for me baby…” he said in a deep voice. He was looking at me as he did this.
I noticed his eyes looked darker. Lustful. “S-stop… I need you now”
He slowly went inside me, both of us moaning at how good it was feeling.
“You’re so tight” he groaned.
He held my legs as he started to fuck me. He used one hand to rub my clit as he did so.
“M-Milo…. M-milo… it feels good”
“You’re so sexy. “ he said as he held my waist for more support as he went faster. I wrapped my arms around his neck, as one hand pulled his hair, causing him to groan. He started to kiss my neck again. “Moan my name, baby”
I kept moaning his name. I tried so hard not to be so loud but it felt so fucking good.
He pulled out and flipped me over. I put my ass up for him. He instantly went in.
I started to throw it back for him, and from the mirror I can see he threw his head back in pleasure. He placed his hands on my ass, guiding me.
I felt his hands on my body helping me up and then moved one hand around my neck and the other on my boobs for support.
“Look in the mirror. I want you see how I fuck you.”
He started to go in and out of me. I saw us in the mirror. Fuck he looked so hot. His hands holding my boobs just right. His pounding hit a spot where I knew I would finish soon. His moans in my ear. His hand on my neck, choking me, but in a good way.
“M-milo” I moaned. “ I’m close.”
“Me too.” He kept going at the pace he liked.
I felt his dick twitching in me as I felt my walls clenched. We finished at the same time, letting out moans doing so.
Milo grabbed his shirt to wipe himself off and then handed it to me to do the same.
“Milo… I’m sorry if I Made this awkward between us.” I said shyly as I put the shirt he had let me borrow back on.
“Are you kidding? That was wild! … Didn’t know you had that in you. You look shy, but you are very freaky too… I like that, "he said and winked at me. I smirked at him.
He walked over to me and grabbed my hands in his. I looked up at him. His eyes were no longer dark. They were back to his normal light brown color. His hair got even more messier because of my tugging.
“Listen Y/N… I know you just got over a relationship and have to figure out some things… but just know I am here whenever you need me.” He said with a soft voice.
“Thank you, Milo.” I said.
“But for now…Let's go to bed. You tired me out. “ He said as he led me back to bed. We got under the covers and cuddled. I could hear his heartbeat slowing down. How crazy were we going?
We ended up falling asleep in each other’s arms. For the first tie in a while, I felt safe. He made everything seem better despite everything.
#ben plunkett#disney zombies#milo manheim#milo manheim fan fiction#ryan baker#school spirits#wally clark#zed necrodopolis#dancing with the stars#prom pact
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Playing with a Coroner and a Detective is not wise - Skulduggery x Male!Reader Universe
WARNING!: Working on corpses, a bit graphic, cutting bodies, mention of murder, cursing AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!
Part 10 – M/n’s Workplace
They arrived at Grimwood and M/n opened the second garage, for Skulduggery, to park his car in. M/n parked his own car in the main garage and then got out with Ghastly. They waited for Stephanie and Pleasant in the living room.
Soon enough they arrived.
“Follow me. Sister, you shut up about it, otherwise I will make you regret your life.”, M/n said, still a bit coldly.
She perked up that he even talked to her.
“Of course, Bubba. I...I owe you that much for my outburst earlier.”, she said softly.
“I told you, that it’s fine. Now let’s go. I am curious if they work.”, M/n said and then speed walked away.
The others followed and Stephanie was very confused, while Skulduggery turned his head to Ghastly in questioning.
“What is he talking about ?”, he asked the tailor.
“He said he bought something not long ago. Something that projects illusions over your body and makes you look different. He wants to try them out on us, so we can follow him.”
“Then I should call Kenspeckle.”, Skulduggery said.
“That you should.”, Ghastly agreed.
M/n stood in front of a wall and ran his hand over a certain area, then the wall slid to its right and a small entry was granted. He turned to the other three.
“Get in already. Down the staircase and open the big steel door.”, M/n instructed.
Skulduggery went in first, then Stephanie and Ghastly. M/n followed after them and closed the entrance. He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, he gave it to Ghastly, who gave it Stephanie, who in turn gave it Skulduggery, to light the way.
“Why no Magic ?”, she asked.
“Because this is a house that is inflammable and I don’t want that.”, M/n answered.
“Oh...”
“Yeah, oh.”
Soon enough they reached the door out of steel and Skulduggery opened it. They entered the room and M/n turned on the lights. Stephanie’s and Ghastly’s eyes widened, in shock and awe. This was looking like a laboratory for everything that is technological.
On the left of the room were closets made out of steel, that raked up to the ceiling of the room, with big and many compartments, which had doors and keyholes, so they were locked too. On the right of the room were a lot of machine parts, big parts and two doors that led to god knew where. In the back in the center of the room, was a big desk. It was messy with papers, tools, screws and nuts. There was a small lamp too and a big, cold white glowing lamp in the middle of the ceiling too, illuminating the while room. It was beautiful and messy at the same time.
“Here I put all the stuff together, that I order from the industries.”, M/n explained.
“So you order all the things and just have to piece them together ?”, Stephanie asked.
“Yeah. It is like building Lego. You get a package, all the parts and a blueprint. All you have to do is put it all together and read the blueprint correctly. Easy.”, M/n said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Huh.”
M/n pulled, out of his pants pockets, a pair of keys and pulled out one of the many he had on the chain. He went to the closets and then they all saw him squinting. He grunted in frustration.
“Stupid eyes...”, he muttered under his breath.
He went to the desk, unlocked the left drawer on it and got out a pair of glasses. Then he went back to the closets and followed the labels with his finger, reading them all and that continued for a bit, until he found the right compartment. He unlocked it and got out two small, black, round buttons.
Ghastly and Stephanie looked at them bemused, while Skulduggery pointed at the items in his hands, with his head crooked to the side, letting confusion ebb in his voice.
“And these are supposed to hide our actual looks ?”
“Yes. Now don’t start crying and mocking them. These things are really good. I tried them out once, but I ain’t a Mage, nor am I a Skeleton, so we have to see how they work on you two.”, M/n said.
“You gotta be joking.”, Stephanie groaned.
“I am dead serious. Now, Ghastly, put one on your cheek and press this button.”, M/n instructed and pointed at a small button on the side of the big button.
Ghastly took one and looked at it in suspicion. Then he pressed it to his face and it surprisingly stayed on his left cheek, then he pressed the small button. It turned green slightly and in a flash an illusion fell over Ghastly.
Stephanie stared in shock at the tailor, while M/n smirked in triumph. The illusion was almost flawless. It leaked a few scars, nothing M/n can’t program. He turned to Skulduggery.
“Your turn.”, he said.
“Does it work ?”, Ghastly asked.
“Ghastly, you look almost like someone entirely else. Some scars are flickering through, but otherwise, it is a perfect disguise.”, Stephanie told him.
“A small issue, that, I can reprogram. No worries. This Baby will run perfectly, Ghastly.”, M/n said kindly.
Skulduggery did the same as Ghastly did and soon an illusion fell over the Skeleton, but it had a few flaws. One of his empty eye sockets glitched through and one of his hands was still bone. M/n clicked his tongue. He can fix that.
“Alright you two, leave them on and come with me. The red door is where we are going. Sis, you stay here.”, M/n said.
“Why ?”, she asked.
“Very tiny space.”
“Oh...”
“Yep. We’ll be back in a bit.”, M/n told her and then unlocked the red door.
He led the two men inside there and then entered himself, locking the door behind himself too.
“Welcome back, Corrupted.”, a robotic male voice answered.
“Hello, Iron. Did you miss me ?”, M/n asked.
“Very funny, Sir.”, the robotic voice replied dryly.
“Do we have to know who Iron is and were ?”, Ghastly asked worried, looking around everywhere.
“Iron is an AI that I created a while ago. He is mostly turned off and still in development, but until now, it is functioning just fine. Iron is my security system and my personal computer for a lot of things. He calculates everything flawlessly, to make sure I am making no mistakes, he calibrates all dangers, before I do something stupid and more. Don’t worry, he can only see us through a small camera, that can’t be hacked.”, M/n explained calmly.
“You made Iron ?”, Skulduggery asked.
“From scratch, yes. Without help.”, M/n confirmed.
“Starting all systems, Sir.”, Iron said.
The lights turned on and Ghastly and Skulduggery saw a lot of monitors and a big keyboard in the room. M/n sat down in his chair and then waited for the monitors to turn on, which they soon did.
“Thank you, Iron. I need the connections to the two buttons on the two males’ faces. As you can see, I need to reprogram and adjust them.”
“Of course, Sir. Starting search for Buttons...”
Soon they were shown on the monitors.
“Starting connection to their softwares...”
After a few minutes, they were inside their systems and M/n instantly got to work. Ghastly thought it was uncomplicated, but as he saw the strings of coding, he grew a bit dizzy. How did this Teenage boy handle all of that ?
Ghastly’s was the first one. The illusion flickered, got pulled and stretched, until everything sat perfectly and then the textures were changed. After he saved everything, Ghastly was stable. Then M/n went to Skulduggery’s illusion projector and did the same. After a while, the illusion sat and there was no glitching, flickering and buzzing anymore.
“Iron, save everything and then shut everything down.”
“Understood, Sir.”
With that M/n got up from his chair and walked over to the two disguised Mages. He smiled in triumph.
“You both will LOVE the designs.”, M/n stated proudly.
Then he unlocked and opened the door again, leading them out of the room. They spotted Stephanie and as she looked at the three, her jaw dropped in shock. M/n grinned.
“The blueprints and instructions really do wonders, when you understand them, eh, little Sister ?”, M/n asked teasingly.
“Are these two really still Ghastly and Skulduggery ?”, she asked her Brother.
“They are.”, M/n assured.
“Do we look that different ?”, Ghastly asked.
M/n chuckled, took off his glasses and then left their sides. The two men were too scared to face each other. M/n pulled out a big full body mirror from behind the left closet in the back. They looked and stared at their reflections in shock.
“What the...”, Ghastly started.
“Hell...”, Skulduggery ended.
M/n smirked proudly.
Ghastly had silver hair, his skin tone was lighter, his face had no scars and he actually looked handsome. He liked that face and smiled after his moment of shock.
Skulduggery had blond hair, his skin tone was almost like Ghastly’s just a bit darker, his face had no scars, but freckles here and there, his eyes were a soft green tone, his nose fit the face perfectly, it wasn’t too sharp, nor too round and it was all over his body, as he found out. He took off one of his gloves and even there he had skin and fingernails. It had been so long since he looked human...
Stephanie started at them and then at her Brother.
“You are a genius, you know that ? They look awesome !”, she said with a big grin.
“I know I am perfect. Thank you, Sister. I needed that Ego boost.”
She hugged her Brother tightly and he returned the hug.
“I...wow...this is amazing.”, Ghastly said in awe.
“Impressive...”, Skulduggery said in shock.
“Don’t get used to them. Remember, only 12 hours battery, then they need to be charged and that means you will have your old looks back. They aren’t made to hide your true selves from you. They are made for cases, such as this one. We go to my workplace, ask some questions, inspect the bodies if they are there and then leave. An undercover mission, nothing more.”, M/n reminded the two men.
Ghastly frowned at that reminder.
Yeah...not like he could keep that miracle and hide his scarred face... Would have been too good to be true...
M/n noticed Ghastly’s sadness instantly and tsked softly.
“Ghastly, just because you have a scarred face, doesn’t that mean, that you are ugly. In the end, looks don’t matter. It depends on who you are on the inside. If someone can’t see your worth on the inside, then they aren’t worth it. Trust me. You don’t look all that bad.”
“You think so ?”, Ghastly asked.
“I KNOW so. You are handsome in your own special ways. A face is only a small piece of the whole thing and almost unimportant. Personality counts. The person you are on the inside, is what counts. You could be the most handsome looking man, but with a disgusting personality or attitude, no one would want and love you. You get what I mean ?”
“I...I get it. Thank you, Corrupted.”
M/n smiled and patted Ghastly’s shoulder.
Then Skulduggery whipped out his phone and called someone. He left the room and went up the stairs as he talked with someone, while the other three slowly followed after the Skeleton.
“Now then...I need to make you fake IDs and then we should be alright.”
“What will be my name ?”
“Yuri. Yuri Jonathan.”, M/n told Ghastly.
“Skulduggery ?”
“Sammy Thorn. Cause he is a lousy skeleton and a thorn in my ass.”, M/n joked.
Ghastly chuckled.
“What about Kenspeckle ?”
“I’m unsure. Maybe Lucius Avery.”
“Your Sister ?”
“Lumi Jackson.”
Then Skulduggery came back to them in the hallway.
“Kenspeckle is coming, after a lot of convincing.”, he informed.
“Good.”, M/n replied.
Then he boy left and went to his own room, got out the things he needed and made the fake IDs for all four of them. After he was done with all four of them, the door was knocked on and Skulduggery let an older man inside, who seemed a bit grumpy. He seemed very untrusting to Skulduggery. Probably because he wasn’t a Skeleton anymore.
M/n smiled at the man kindly.
“Hello, you must be Dr. Kenspeckle Grouse. I made you all fake IDs, so you can get in, in case they will ask for IDs. My name is Corrupted. My Sister over there has not chosen a name yet.”, he introduced.
The older male looked at M/n with intrigue. He then stretched out his hand, for a shake. M/n gladly accepted and shook the man’s hand.
“That is correct. I am Dr. Kenspeckle Grouse. That sounds perfect. Then I think, you need this, right ?”, Kenspeckle asked and gave M/n a small picture of himself.
M/n took it and smiled brightly.
“Yes, thank you so much. With that we have a picture too, so we don’t have to worry, but we should disguise you a bit. I can alter the picture a little bit. Please follow me, Sir.”, M/n said.
He led Kenspeckle away and after a few minutes came back, with a man in white hair, blue eyes and he looked younger than he really was. He was in slight shock.
“Impressive, isn’t it ?”, Ghastly asked Kenspeckle with a smile.
“So it really was you two. Also an illusion, eh ?”, the older man asked.
“Yes, exactly.”, Skulduggery confirmed.
“Now we have to go. Everyone to the Pontiac Firebird. We are leaving.”, M/n said and led them all to the garage.
-Time skip-
They arrived at M/n’s workplace and he quickly led them all inside and ran to his Boss’ office with them. He knocked at the office door and a man opened it. He had a bald head, a small, yet neat black beard and dark blue eyes. He looked at M/n in shock and let him and the other four people inside.
“Corrupted, what are you doing here ? You have vacation.”, the man said.
“I’m sorry Boss, but I have a few questions. I got a visit at my house from two Detectives yesterday evening. They told me that two people went missing and they heard that I am a Coroner. They wanted me to ask, if you got any new people in here, in the last three days and if yes, if I can take a look at them. Apparently they suspect a murder on two men and I am known for my successful work. They introduced these three men to me and this girl is an apprentice of Mr. Avery. They are supposed to be my team and help me.”, M/n quickly explained in a big lie.
Skulduggery was impressed how flawlessly he lied.
The man stared at M/n in shock and then at the other four people. He sighed.
“I will need your IDs then.”, M/n’s Boss said softly.
They got out their fake IDs and gave them to him. The man checked them and then nodded and gave the IDs back to them, got up, opened the door and turned back to them.
“Follow me then.”, was all he said as he left.
The others followed him and M/n knew exactly where they are going. The mortuary room. As they entered it all, the four people, could see were big closet like things with big doors. Big compartments. The Boss of M/n went to the first few and pointed at them.
“These are the ones that came in recently and at the tenth door, the corpses of the past three days are over. I will clear out the room for you and sent the others on other tasks, so you have the room all to yourselves, Corrupted. Be careful and I hope you find, what you are looking for.”
“Thank you. Mr. Xavier.”, M/n thanked.
“You are welcome. Now I will be leaving.”
With that the man left and M/n got, out of a drawer, a pair of keys. He unlocked all ten doors, opened them and pulled out small platforms, where dead bodies laid on. Then he looked at Ghastly and Skulduggery.
“You know your small community best, so tell me who we are looking for.”, M/n demanded.
They looked over the ten corpses and soon enough saw two men. Two male Mages.
“I think that is them.”, Ghastly said and pointed at the two next to each other.
“That is them. They were known to be very good spies.”, Skulduggery confirmed.
“Alright, so number seven and eight are the ones. Okay. Ghastly get the cart over there, I will get the other one. I will put seven on your cart and eight on mine. Then you will follow me and we will start the inspection.”, M/n instructed quickly.
They jumped into action and M/n was quick to load the corpses on the carts. He led the four then to the laboratory that was a few steps away. Mr. Xavier stood in front of the closed doors of the lab.
“That’s them ?”, he asked.
“Yes, Sir. I am forbidden to share information with you. They said it was extremely important to only inform them, as they were from a secret organization.”, M/n informed.
“That is fine. You get such cases sometimes. Do what you have to and don’t tell me anything. Just tell me when you are finished and leaving.”
“I will, Boss.”
With that the man went out of their way and M/n rushed into the lab with the other four. As soon as the doors closed, M/n locked them and looked at them.
“Okay, we are inside and we have the bodies. Now we can work.”
“What are Skulduggery, your Sister and me going to be doing ?”, Ghastly asked.
“My Sister will listen to me and look away whenever I tell her to. You will take notes, Ghastly and Skulduggery can help a bit with giving tools. Maybe he will spot some things, which we, Kenspeckle and me, can’t spot.”
They nodded and M/n and Kenspeckle got out the tools, while he told his Sister to get out blank sheets of paper for Ghastly to write on and a pen. She rushed around and got him the things. He took them and then waited. The two Doctors prepared everything and then inspected the bodies from the outside first.
“Body eight has, some bruises on the left arm and chest. Seems like he was in a fight.”, M/n informed.
Ghastly noted it down.
“Body seven, scratch marks on the right leg, seems to be of fingernails and his right arm was burned.”, Kenspeckle informed.
“Which stage ?”, M/n asked.
“Second degree.”
Ghastly noted the information down. The two inspected the back too and saw that he must have slammed against something harsh. His back was showing bruises.
“Okay...let us check the eyes...”, M/n said.
Kenspeckle nodded and opened them. They had wide eyes as they saw the dead men’s eyes.
“What is it ?”, Ghastly asked.
“I....I’ve never seen this before...”, M/n muttered.
“Nor did I...”, Kenspeckle replied.
“What is it ?”, Stephanie asked.
“Their eyes are filled with black. No speck of white or anything. They are utterly black.”, M/n answered.
“We need to run tests on that.”, Kenspeckle told M/n.
“I know that.”, he replied dryly.
He was not amused to run tests on eyes... Kenspeckle carefully removed the eyes and put them on a small sample glass. M/n took one of each from him and then they went to inspect it closer with the Microscope. Skulduggery stood behind M/n and looked over his shoulder at the eyes.
“I fear we have to cut one of the eyes open and see if the black spread in there.”, Kenspeckle stated.
“What would that mean, if it spread ?”, M/n asked the Doctor.
“It would mean that Necromancy was used on them.”, he answered.
“Oh...Oh yay...”, M/n mumbled out unamused.
#Playing with a Coroner and a Detective is not wise - Skulduggery x Male!Reader Universe#skulduggery pleasant#male!reader#derek landy#not the canon au#read warnings above#my au#skulduggery pleasant x reader universe#ghastly bespoke#Stephanie Edgley#Part 10 – M/n’s Workplace
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what type of music do you think iida is into? 🐳🐳
tenya iida
tw; sfw & different music genres!! 🙀
read more; masterlist | drabble masterlist | students masterlist
a/n; this one actually made me think,,, because we all think that iida is like some uptight right? but like let's be real, he definitely got some sneaks of what he listens to on his playlist! i kinda wanna do this for more characters:'). thank you, anon!
1 — classical
well...this one was obvious. mans needs stimulating music that can help him think, train and focus. if you think classical music dont go hard, YOU ARE WRONG! there is such a wide variety of what you can get whatever you are feeling for. he probably does poses in the mirror while he has earphones in his hero costume .. like yes it's that bomb. even calm music is what soothes him the most. you can not convince him otherwise. 🤷🏽♀️
☆ fave artist - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
✮ fave song - Waltz of the Flowers by Tchaikovsky
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
2 — asian pop (specifically j & kpop)
OH YEAH, HES A GIRL GROUP STAN IDC IDC IDC IDC IDCCCCCCCC. he love him some girly pop music. learns the dances too. does he go to meet n greets and shit? absolutely not. will go to a concert though. he definitely love the bubblegum pop music too. actually tbh, as long as the singer has a sweet voice in it, he'll love it. he's also a sucker for the more mature idols too—theres a lot of back n forth of what he prefers. he just appreciates the feminine art lol.
☆ fave artist - Babymetal (jpop) & TWICE (kpop)
✮ fave song - Black Cherry by KODA KUMI & Heart shaker by TWICE
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
3 — swing
okayyy bc you know this mans is smooth asf. he love him some swing, if classical music is to stimulate him, this genre brings more ease to himself. he be feelin' so shnazzy and free listening to it. swing/jazz is basically straight deep vibes. whenever he needs to just sway, swing is his go to.
☆ fave artist - Luis Armstrong
✮ fave song - What A Wonderful World by Luis Armstrong
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4 — house/dance electronic
YEAH HE GOT HAPPY LIL FEET 💃🏽 he don't how to dance but he really wants to learn how to shuffle?! like he genuinely tries, and hes low-key kinda really good at it now! another genre where he feels carefree and light. just straight vibes and grooves. ugh he is so real for this.
☆ fave artist - Daft Punk
✮ fave song - Push The Feeling by Nightcrawlers & Latch by Disclosure ft. Sam Smith
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5 — folk/city/café pop
tbh the songs under this has been categorized as pop, but like?? it sounds like folk to me. probably the other most personal music genre for him. similar artist that he may listen to to put it into perspective is like Laufey and maybe Phoebe Bridgers. that's the type of soothing vibe he needs when listening to this music. probably goes to the beach listens to this when he's by himself, or when hes alone and can really sit in his thoughts.
☆ fave artist - Lamp
✮ fave song - Sleep Among Endives by Ichiko Aoba
all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.
#bnha#mha#iida tenya#tenya iida#ingenium#talk iida#music#bnha headcannons#bnha hcs#sav's sfwers#sav's sfwin#d drabbles
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Whumperless Whump Event: The whump morning after
Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”
Free Birds and Fiddlers
cw: morally grey whumpee, improvised medical care, noncon reference, disabled whumpee, consensual drug use, usamerican writing UK setting with not enough time to check every regional difference, referenced past disordered eating
~~~
Kevin woke to the hiss of an oxygen mask, and pain. If he woke up at all, he expected it to be a hospital, wrists back in cuffs, and the air certainly tasted like it. But when he opened his eyes, a hospital room was not what he saw.
He found himself in a small cluttered bedroom. His arms were free, save for the IV hanging from a clothes hanger off of a curtain rod, the curtain itself covering the entire window. The warm orange lamp on the bedside table provided the light the window couldn't, and he really hoped it was the actual bulb flickering like a candle and not his brain.
He pawed at the plastic on his face, ignoring the way his abdomen flared. He just needed his lungs back under his own control.
Once his face was free and he could breathe in the musty, non sterile air of the room, he allowed himself a wince, and held his side. There were bandages over the wound, and touching them only made it hurt worse. He supposed that if he was still alive they were done well enough.
His entire body ached and flared as he tried to get up. He wasn't planning on going far, he just wanted to sit up, and not feel as helpless as he likely was.
As he was rolling to his side, trying to stretch aching joints, the door opened. A man he had never seen before entered, a cup of tea in hand. And behind him- a man Kevin recognized. Alex.
He felt his heartbeat quicken.
"Ah, none of that. Lay still, you'll pop your stitches."
"Listen to the doc, baby. He's pulled out more bullets than you've probably fired."
"Considering I fight with blades, that's only so impressive."
"Yeah, and how did that go for you?"
"Well, last I saw it, the building was no longer standing."
"Oh hush, you two. I said lay back down." The doc set the mug down on the bedside table, and the doctor's hand was pushing his raised shoulder gently back into the mattress. "I'll help prop you up with pillows but I need you to relax."
"How can I relax with a rapist standing over me? Where's my gear?"
"Hey! I saved your sorry ass. I found you bleeding out and brought you here."
"Well I'd take a prison med-bay or bleeding out in that alley over owing you anything, so don't expect thanks." He tried to stand, with great effort, but quickly remembered why he hadn't planned on it.
"Wheres my staff?" He demanded.
"The doc said to lay back down, you don't need it."
"And I'm telling you that if you don't give back every atom of gear I had, we're going to have problems, and I am so fucking done putting up with you."
As sharp as his glare was, Kevin really wished he had his knives to back up the threat.
The doctor spoke. "Hey, Kevin, right? I'll get you your stuff, it's just in the other room. But you can't leave this flat, alright? There's a warrant out for your arrest. People are looking for you and for anyone who escaped. You're injured-"
"I've been injured before, I'll walk it off. Give me my staff."
"You don't understand, you're safe here-"
"Great, then give. Me. My. Staff. Back."
The doctor considered him for a moment. "Fine, but you need to rest. Even walking across the room could pop your stitches now, you don't want that."
"Fine then. I suppose as long as all my property is returned and Alex stays very away from me, I'll stay here and rest." Not that I like it.
To Alex the doctor said, "Give us a minute, ok?"
And thankfully Alex did leave with a huff.
"I'll help you sit, here." The doctor propped the pillows and held put a hand to help Kevin settle back.
Now that the adrenaline was fading, he was back to feeling every flare of pain that came with every movement. He tried to suppress it, but that only worked so well. It's not like he was expecting to get painkillers.
"So, doc, why am I not in a real hospital? You even a real doctor?"
"I am. I just also have a deal with the local crime boss to heal his goons on the down low, and so Alex brought you to me. If you really want to be brought there I understand, but I recommend you stay here."
"Hm." The silence stretched as Kevin was handed the mug of tea and sipped.
"My name's Martin, by the way."
"Ah, are you Doc Martin, then?"
He rolled his eyes as if he's heard the joke before. "Yeah I guess you could say that."
"Can I have my things now, please?"
"Yes, of course."
Doc Martin returned quickly with a bundle of familiar objects and set them beside Kevin on the bed. His short wooden staff, more of a cane really but that was because his actual staff would be too clunky on his back during flight, he propped against the nightstand. He took inventory of the rest.
Two plain knives, about 4 inches of steel. Cleaned, by someone other than himself, but needs sharpening. Two much longer blades, similar story. Attached to these is the homemade flight gear he forged in secret. Mostly intact, save for the right punctured gas tank, likely the same bullet that he could now thank for temporarily confining him to the bed.
Leather harness, intact. One unused smoke bomb. No unused explosives. One detonator remote, intact. A combat mask, painted black with a green clover outlined around the left eye, intact though lenses smeared with soot. A black woolen cloak, emblazoned with no emblem, ripped but usable, no blood visible or otherwise apparent to the touch, likely cleaned. Knee high combat boots, intact. Trousers, socks, pants, freshly washed. The loose clothing he wore was not his own.
"Where's my shirt?"
"Still hanging to dry by the washer. I had to soak it for awhile to get the bloodstain out. It's still there if you squint, but I got most of it. Do you want it back now?"
"No, but I do when it's dry."
Emergency med kit, mostly untouched. He took note of the bracelet he put on himself preceding the attack still on his wrist. Big red cross symbol, and the drugs he put in his system, the dosage and time and his weight. Blood type. Just because he wasn't scared of death didn't mean he wanted to die because some well meaning doctor didn't know he had numbing agents in his system already.
Small box containing quick hair dye, and concealer meant to go over the tattoo on his temple, could still be useful.
"Hey, Martin. You said there's a warrant out for me. Do they know it's me who took down the building, or they grasping at straws, do you think?"
"Mmh, hard to say for sure. But they do know you ditched your parole officer last year, were held in that prison before that. They know about the face tattoo of yours matches the one on the mask, though not the placement. They showed your mugshot on the telly as a suspect, but it looks like they didn't get your face from the attack. They also know you're capable of murder, and telling civilians not to engage with you but rather phone in tips."
"Technically, it was self defense."
"Technically, they have you on record insisting you killed a close friend in cold blood."
Kevin closed his eyes and leaned back into the cushions. "Ah, right then. So now they believe me."
The silence stretched between them.
"So, are you hungry?"
Kevin couldn't help but laugh at that. "Ah, that is the question, isn't it?"
"What?"
"It- it's not important. I'll eat your food, if you insist."
"Alright. And then after I want to change your bandage."
Masterlist
@whumperless-whump-event
#whumperless whump event#whumperless whump event day 19#Yay I got it done with a little more than an hour to spare#If any regional differences make any UK readers cringe please tell me I want to fix them#Kevin my dear oc#Free birds and fiddlers#Disabled whumpee#Noncon tw#Disordered eating tw#(<-kinda)
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