#So this is an older edit I finally just added finishing touches too!

[killuaisaprincess]

💒💒💒💒💍💒💒💒💒

[tojisbbg]

❈ 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 ❈

❝one day i will stop falling in love with you, some day, someone will like me like i like you.❞

♡ manjiro sano ♡

a/n: current mood - wanting to breaking people’s hearts 😈 (sorry mikey stans)

content: mikey x reader (y/n), very heavy angst, right person wrong time, you’re mikey’s childhood friend, he’s getting married (lolz), not grammatically checked/edited

...

you finished adding the final touches to your makeup, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you checked in the mirror if your concealer hid your puffy eyes well. some would say that whatever you were going through was tragic, a scenario that you would read about in romance novels where the main character is destined to a miserable fate.

and perhaps that was right.

you’ve been feeling miserable, sad and pathetic for the last month and a half since you’ve received the invitation. a piece of paper that felt like a sharp knife slicing your heart in half.

what was worse was that you couldn’t even find it in your heart to throw away the card. it was beautifully decorated with happy pastel colors and confetti, printed on expensive card stock, pop-up designs and a photo of him with the girl that was supposed to be you.

it was your childhood friend’s wedding, except for the catch that you’ve been holding in a burdening crush on him for the last twenty years. he was your person and you were his, being there for each other through thick and thin.

you both created a world where it was just the two of you while everyone else became a blur, a bunch of white noise. he was the invincible mikey and you were his key.

you couldn’t help but wonder, when did things change so fast? how did the perfect world you both created become nothing but dust?

---

(17 years ago)

“how is she, doc?” the young boy with a dragon tatted on his skull asked curiously as he stared at his friend, well practically family, in concern. 

“it was just an upset stomach, little man. we gave your sister some antibiotics to fight off those nasty little germs that’s been bothering her. she’ll be good in a few days. you sure you don’t have a parent or older family member we can contact?” the doctor asked, cocking an eyebrow as he held the pen in his hand eagerly, hoping the blonde boy would say something to him. 

“we’re orphans and she’s not my real sister. we have someone that’s been taking care of us for all these years and he’ll come by shortly.” he murmured, shame painting his face as his gaze went down to the floor. 

the doctor looked at him with sorrow, patting his head. 

“hang tight, buddy. keep her company, but don’t make her laugh too much or else it might make her cry.” he tried to create humor and it successfully made the frowning by crack a crooked smile. 

“yes, sir!” the little boy playfully saluted as he watched the man in the white coat walk away with a chuckle. 

“ken?” his ears rang up when hearing your faint call of his name, a small whimper following after. 

“y/n! are you hurting anywhere? should i call the doctor back? uncle’s gonna be here soon with remi. i told them to bring your favorite chocolate pudding.” draken gave you a cheeky grin, his hand now holding yours tightly. 

“you know me so well, sometimes i forget that i’m an orphan.” you laughed quietly, trying to not put strain on your stomach. 

“you’re not an orphan, y/n. you got me, uncle, remi and the other girls too. we’re one big happy family.” he persisted, eyebrows furrowing as he tried his best to convince you to believe his point. 

“you told the doctor that i’m not your sister, ken.” you whispered, your throat becoming dry as the words left your mouth. draken fell silent for a few seconds before sighing, laying his head besides your hand. 

“i told him that you’re not my real sister, y/n. there’s a difference. i don’t care what the law says because my heart says otherwise. you’ll always be the sister that i’ve always dreamed of having.” his eyes twinkled, a hand coming up to ruffle your hair. 

“so i heard one of my little girls was sick? maybe some chocolate pudding will make those little bad guys in your stomach go away.” your uncle’s voice boomed in your ward, a small smile plastered on his face as he shook the white plastic bag.

your eyes glimmered in content before you were pulled into a bear hug by remi. the girl sobbed on your shoulder, wetting it with tears and snot as she roared by your ears. 

“y/nnnn!!!! i thought you were gonna die when kenny told uncle! i love you, y/n, don’t leave ever me. ever.” she hiccuped between every word as your uncle and draken tried to console her and calm her down. 

“it was a stomach bug, remi. i’ll be better in a few days.” you tried to cheer her up. she raised her head, looking at you in doubt. 

“promise?” remi sniffled. 

“promise, you know i’d never lie to you.” you wiped away her tears before hugging her once more. 

your uncle handed the three of you the small containers of chocolate pudding. 

“why don’t you three take a walk outside, i’ll have this really nice nurse walk you guys. it’s good to get some fresh air.” the doctor said, patting your back and you all agreed, soon leaving the room. 

you happily skipped through the hallway, one pudding container in your pocket, while the other one was tightly secured in your hand as you ate it. 

“let’s play hide and seek, you’re the seeker ken!” you quickly blurted out, not giving either of them a choice before running off to the other direction. you faintly heard draken groan in annoyance, being tired of always being the seeker but he’d always do it for you. 

you saw a pretty quiet hallway and decided to turn to that corner, only to find a small quiet room. you figured that it wouldn’t be too much of a trouble to hide in here for a few minutes

you opened the door, nearly having a heart attack from the sudden appearance of another person. it was a boy with short blonde hair, he was huddled up into a ball, quietly whimpering and crying. 

“hey, kid.” you called out to him, only to not receive a response. a heavy sigh left your lips as you walked over to him, sitting on the floor besides him. the boy looked up at you, eyes all puffy and his nose red. 

he’s pretty cute.

“look, i’m really bad at comforting people. but, when i’m super sad, i eat chocolate pudding to make me happy again.” you said with a grin, digging in your pocket to get your other container out. 

you grabbed his hand and opened his palm before placing the treat in it. he stared at it in momentary silence. 

“who are you?” he finally spoke, looking at you with slight confusion. 

“just a stranger who’s hiding from her siblings in an intense game of hide and seek. what about you?” you chuckled, scooping another bite into your mouth. 

“i’m.. i don’t know.” he said with a shaky breath, shaking his head. 

“that’s fine, we don’t always know the answer to everything. ken is really mean sometimes, he’s a year older than me and asked me what 345 times 82 is. i could bet you my whole stash of chocolate pudding that he doesn’t know himself. tch, smart my ass.” you scoffed, earning a small giggle from your side. you side eyed him, seeing him detach the small spoon from the plastic lid before opening it. 

“what’s your name?” he asked you, eyes anticipating for an answer. 

“y/n. you?” you continued to inhale your treat as you waited for him to respond. 

“mikey.” the blonde boy scooped in a hefty amount into his mouth as he consumed the sweet dessert. 

“why were you crying, mikey?” you asked, not realizing how insensitive you were being. 

“it’s personal.” mikey shortly dismissed, but you were a little slow to understand and continued to persist until he caved in. 

“it’s just me and you in here. think of it as a bubble with just us, nothing comes in or goes out of this bubble.” you assured him, patting his back. 

for some strange reason, mikey felt like he could tell you anything from how comfortable you made him feel. considering the fact that he didn’t want to show any kind of reaction or emotion towards his family, he decided to seek that comfort and release in you. 

“my mother just died, about an hour ago.” he bluntly dropped the bomb, placing a very awkward and tense atmosphere between you both. 

“you’ll get over it, mikey.” you calmly answered, making his brows furrow with annoyance and slight anger. 

“how could you say that to me? my mother just died.” mikey said in disbelief, his tone heightening a little. 

“i’m telling you the truth. i’m sorry that this happened to you, especially at such a young age, but it’ll all pass and soon, today will just be one of your many bad memories. you’ll find peace and love one day and heal, mikey. that’s life.” you defended your previous statement, looking into his eyes with a gentle look. 

“and how do you know that? you’re just some ten-year-old weirdo that walked in on me.” he mumbled under his breath, making you giggle. 

“i’m an orphan, mikey. i don’t even know what my parents look like or if i even have any to begin with. not even any knowledge on if i have sibling or not. ken and remi aren’t my real siblings, just people i grew up with.” you shrugged, making the blonde boy thin his lips. 

“i’m sorry.” he apologized, his gaze lowering to meet his shoes. 

“it’s not your fault. there’s too much love in this world to be consumed by regret or grief. i’m not saying that you shouldn’t grieve, but you have to pick yourself up and continue with the rest of your life eventually. it’s what your mom would’ve wanted, mikey.” you ruffled his hair as his eyes shimmered with hope. 

“thanks, i’ll try. also, promise me that you won’t tell anyone about me crying.” mikey gave you a embarrassed look, holding up his pinky. 

“i promise.” you intertwined yours with his.

suddenly, the door flew open, which startled the both of you. 

“found you!”

---

“i’m really sorry, sir.” the doctor heavily sighed, trying to pat your uncle’s back as the man sobbed in his palms. 

“how bad is it? please, tell me she has time! she’s only ten, i want to be able to walk her down the aisle one day.” your uncle begged, choking between every word and cry. 

“the tumor in right in the middle of her brain, wrapping around each and every blood vessel. it’s to aggressive for us to remove it, i’m sorry once again, but it’s inoperable. she’ll bleed out before we can even remove a centimeter of it. with proper treatment and medications, we’re looking at maybe ten more years.” the doctor replied, making your uncle rub his temples in worry. 

“uncle!! meet my new friend, mikey! they live on the next block from our house.” you vibrant voice broke the depressing atmosphere. your uncle quickly wiped away his tears, giving you all a smile. 

“hey, i remember you! you were in s.s motors with shinichiro.” your uncle patted mikey’s head. 

“he’s my big brother.” mikey answered. 

“i see, why don’t you come and have lunch with us. we’re going out for burgers, i’ll text your brother that you’re with us.” your uncle suggested, making the small blonde boy nod his head.

and just like that, the both of you became inseparable. 

---

high school came around and you were the only thing that was piecing manjiro sano, or rather the invincible mikey, together. he formed a gang and that included your brother in it as well. you all were a pretty tight group to say the least, yet no one could truly understand him better than you could.

not even his right-hand men such as draken or sanzu. 

“i think i’m gonna disband toman and move away for some time, you now escape life for a little.” he sighed, opening the lid of the chocolate pudding before handing it to you.

“where’s yours?” you asked, confused as to why he only got one. 

“didn’t want one.” he shrugged, digging in his pocket before pulling out a box of cigarettes. he plucked one of the cancer sticks out, planting it in between his lips before lighting it. 

you watched him in disappointment, as he inhaled the smoke before coughing it out, eyes becoming watery as you scoffed. 

“dumbass, give me that.” you grabbed the stick before throwing it on the ground, stepping on it. 

“and that.” you grabbed the pack out of his hands before tossing it into the trash. 

“y/n.” mikey called out. 

“no, i’m really mad at you. i can’t believe you, mikey. pull that type of shit again and i’ll bury you, i swear. no girl would ever want to kiss you with a mouth like that.” you scoffed, flicking his forehead as he winced in pain. 

“not even you?” he teased. 

“i’d rather kiss a roach.” you playfully punched his bicep, earning a small laugh from him. 

“they only had one pudding left, so i didn’t get one for myself.” he explained himself. 

“we could always share, idiot. say ah.” you ordered, scooping a hefty amount of pudding before placing the spoon near his lips. he opened his mouth, eating it with content. 

“see, much better than cigarettes. but i was being serious, mikey, i don’t wanna see those near your lips or reach ever again. swear on my life?” you glared at him, making him choke. 

“hey! why are you giving me such a harsh swear??” he cleared his throat. 

“so you’re saying you’ll lie and do it behind my back?!” you yelled, making him quickly shake his head. 

“no, no, no! that’s not what i meant. i’m just saying that isn’t it such a big swear for something so stupid?” mikey tried to reason. 

“your health is not stupid, mikey. don’t push my buttons and swear already.” you rolled your eyes, making him sigh. 

“fine, i swear.” he said in defeat, stealing the reamining of your pudding to eat. 

“hm, good. oh, going back to what you were saying earlier, why so suddenly?” you questioned, backtracking to the previous conversation before you both got out of topic. 

“i don’t know, i feel like i’m bringing in my toxic energy in and engulfing everyone. maybe i should just let it all go and step back, you know? even you need a break from me to be honest.” he bitterly laughed. you kissed your teeth before grabbing a hold of his face, turning it to face you as you stared sternly at him. 

“mikey, i’m not going anywhere. what i promised you seven years will never break, even after we die. our souls are one, and i can’t leave my other half. so, let me run away with you. wherever you want, i’ll follow right behind you.” you gave him a soft smile, caressing his cheeks lovingly. his expression grew softer, tears welling in his eyes as he buried his face in your chest. you wrapped your arms around him, kissing the top of his head. 

it’s been rough on him, especially after losing shinichiro too in an accident. mikey’s been in a really dark place for a few months, shit, even scary if you were honest. he was snappy, rude, all dark and twisty. yet, you never gave up on him. 

because you knew that at the end of the day, he was still the same small boy you found in that closet crying to himself. 

“y/n, promise me something.” mikey sniffled, pulling away as he looked up at you, eyes holding so much vulnerability. 

“i promised my entire life to you, what more should i promise?”you joked, wiping away his tears with the pads of your thumb. 

“if we don’t find someone by the age of thirty, let’s get married. i’d rather spend the rest of my life with you than all alone.” he offered, a boyish smile dancing on his lips as your heart fluttered. 

you could’ve sworn that it skipped a few beats, making it suddenly harder to breathe as your cheeks grew warm. 

“stop fucking around with me, sano. it’s not funny.” you warned him, but his expression remained the same. 

“you’re being deadass?” your eyes grew wide and he hummed in response. 

“so, are you in or not?” the blonde boy cocked an eyebrow as he held out his pinkie, making you chuckle. 

“jeez, it seems like you’re making a life or death contract with me. yes, i’m in.” you answered, intertwining your pinkie with his. 

and to think that what you’ve been dreaming of for years were to come true would become only a nightmare. 

it’s not until emma’s death where mikey completely disappeared, not answering anyones calls or even yours. you spent days trying to look for him all over the city and even begging koko to somehow track his number or something. 

but every effort went in vain. 

you cried for months, refusing to eat and giving up on the sweet treat that only reminded you of him. you had nightmares every night, and the only thought that circled your mind was that he was dead. 

he was really gone. 

until after nearly nine years, he came back. not alone, but accompanied with another person. 

a girl, his girl, to be precise. 

mikey went to the philippines for those years, returning with a completely new get up that would make it hard for anyone to guess that it was him. his beautiful blonde locks were now cut short with an undercut, dyed black. 

you remembered the first day where he showed up at your doorsteps, your knees turned into jelly as you almost collapsed to the group if he didn’t catch you in time. you cried in his arms for so long, cursing and punching him from pain and anger as he whispered thousands of apologies to you. 

you were happy, so fucking happy to see that he was alive. it put your mind and heart to peace, until you saw her walk out of the car.  

“this is my girlfriend, y/n. we met a few years back and she’s just amazing, you know. i wanted you to meet the most important person of my life first since you’re my best friend.” he mischievously giggled, snaking an arm around her waist. 

your throat became dry, heart shattering into a billion pieces as each word leaving his lips was like knives jabbing at your heart. it bled, threatening to leak out of your eyes. yet, you held back, trying your hardest to fake a realistic smile to keep your cool. 

“nice to meet you.” you shook her hand. 

“the pleasure’s all mine, mikey’s told me a lot about you.” she said, making you awkwardly laugh.

“oh, i see.” you dryly replied, clearing your throat. 

“these are for you by the way, it’s a recipe that’s really sacred to my family. i hope you enjoy.” she smiled, handing you a box of what seemed like cookies. 

fuck, i can’t even bring myself to hate her. 

“thank you, that’s really sweet of you. uh, you both should stay over for lunch.” you offered, secretly praying that they refuse. 

“sorry, y/n, i gotta get my bike inspected by ken-chin. next time, yeah?” he ruffled your hair, as you managed to let out a small hum. you waved them goodbye before entering your house, locking the door behind you. 

you fell on your knees, letting out all the tears that you’ve been holding in. your cry was ugly, gut-wrenching and painful as it stole all the oxygen from your lungs and made you gag and choke. 

it felt like someone died, well, it was sort of like that. 

mikey was no longer yours, he was somebody’s else’s. you were all alone now. 

you’re the other woman. 

you probably shed a gallon of tears by now, trying your best to turn off the water tap glued on your eyes. but, the image of him snaking his arm around her waist never left your mind. 

you glanced at the box of cookies on the floor, opening the lid to grab one and take a bite. 

“fuck, they taste delicious too.” you cried, throwing it back in the box as you decided that it’ll be best to call out of work sick for tomorrow. 

---

the day has finally come, where you have to let him go. he was no longer yours, those days will never come back, now only a happy memory that you can confide to for comfort. 

“y/n, you don’t have to do this.” draken sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder but you shook your head, determined to attend that damn wedding. 

“i have to, ken. he’s my best friend, i can do at least this much for him.” you answered, fixing up the green dress that you wore before putting on your earrings. 

“be selfish for once, y/n! i know that you love him, alright? i’ve been living with you since diapers, i know you like the back of my hand. you can lie to anyone but me, i know that you’re not okay. which is why i’m telling you that you don’t have to do this. i’ll tell him that you’re sick or something.” draken’s eyes softened, his expresison growing sad as he looked at your pained expression. you were smiling at him, yet he knew the thousands of thoughts and words that littered your mind. 

“ken, i know. the only way i could give myself closure is by seeing it happen, in front of my eyes. i want my last memory of him to be happy and clear, so that when i think of him, i don’t feel pain or misery. if he’s happy then i’m happy because we are each others halves and no one can take that spot. besides, his fiance is so nice, i can’t even bring myself to hate her. he’ll be fine, i know he will.” you explained, grabbing drakens hands as you gave it a tight squeeze, looking up at the tall man that stood before you. 

he bit his lips to contain himself from arguing back, caressing your cheeks before letting out a sigh. he nodded his head, deciding to butt-out of your business. 

“okay, whatever makes you happy.” he said and you hummed in response before getting up to slip on your heels. 

“let’s go, we have a wedding to go to.” you smiled at him, slipped your arm in his as you guys walked out of your house. 

the drive to the church was short as it was the same one where hina and takemichi got married. you entered the ladies room where all the bridesmaids were getting dressed up as they all waited for you since you were the maid of honor. 

“y/n, you’re here! god, you look gorgeous, maybe i should ditch mikey and marry you instead.” she joked, pulling you into a hug as you chuckled, patting her back. 

“you look even prettier. damn, mikey caught a good one i gotta say.” you answered looking at her with eyes full of nothing but adoration. 

she was sweet and understanding, a perfect wife for mikey. he deserved this, after being through hell and back, he deserved happiness and peace. 

and you were willing to do anything to give him that, even if it meant to go to the ends of the earth and come back. 

“it’s almost time! come on ladies, get in position.” one of the bridesmaids announced.

“i’ll see you at the aisle.” you rubbed her shoulder as she hummed, then taking your leave as you entered the wedding hall. you walked up where the priest stood, mikey standing right across you. 

his eyes widened when he saw you, walking up to you without hesitation. he pulled you into a tight hug before pulling away with a smile. 

“you look absolutely beautiful, y/n, as always. i’m so happy that you’re here, i was honestly so nervous, but after seeing you, i got my courage back.” he honestly said, making it hard for you to form words to respond to him. 

“better not chicken out sano, i raised you better than that.” you playfully scolded him. 

“yes ma’am!” he jokingly saluted, making you both laugh. 

“mr. sano, please stand in position, the bride will enter in a few minutes.” the priest interrupted. 

“sorry. i’ll talk to you after the ceremony, okay?” he held your hands, giving it a tight squeeze and you swore that if he was just a hair more closer, you would’ve broken down into tears. 

“yeah, yeah, of course. go get married, sano.” you teased, making him blush as he walked back to his original position. you stood with one ring while draken stood with the other, the taller glancing at you frequently to check if you’re okay and you’d discreetly try to nod and give him the signal that you’re fine.

the music began to play and the doors opened, revealing mikey’s soon to be wife, now walking in with her father. a huge smile or her face as you looked over at mikey, only to catch him staring at you before averting his gaze to his wife. 

she walked up the steps, now standing besides you as she turned to look at her soon to be husband. the priest began to read the wedding vows and it was soon time to exchange rings. the beautiful diamond ring glimmered under your eyes and you couldn’t help but wished it was for you. 

it fit perfectly, like it was made for you and you knew that because you accompanied mikey when he went ring shopping. it was unfortunate to know that his fiance’s ring size was the same as you, so you helped him pick and size it. you remember not being able to take your eyes off of it as soon as he slipped it onto your finger. you felt chills as his skin touched yours, but now, it was reality; only not yours but hers. 

“do you, _____, take manjiro sano as your wedded husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in sickness and in health, in success and in disappointment, to love him faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?” the priest asked, and without hesitation⸻

“i do.” she said with the brightest smile, giving him the most lovesick eyes known to mankind. 

“do you, manjiro sano, take _____ as your wedded wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in sickness and in health, in success and in disappointment, to love him faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?” he now asked the groom, and to your surpise, mikey’s eyes were only focused on you. 

please, say no, mikey. say no! you’re mine and i’m yours, it always been like that. please, say no.

your mind screamed and your heart bled, hoping for some miracle to change the events to bring it in your favors. but to your disappointment, none of that happened. he gave you a small smile before glancing at his bride. 

“i do.” mikey said and the priest suddenly glanced at everyone in the room. 

“any objections?” he loudly asked, as a moment of silence fell in the whole room. 

me! i object. this wedding shouldn’t be happening, not even in a million years. that should be me in that dress and ring, not her. i don’t want to be the other woman.

“that’s a no then. i now pronounce you husband and wife. you may kiss the bride.” and with that being said, you averted your gaze to the bouquet of flowers as the crowd roared with cheers while they both kissed. 

a few tears slipped from your eyes but you managed to quickly wipe them away, praying that nobody saw them. to which nobody did, except for draken as the man look at you with nothing but an aching heart to see you this heartbroken. 

the after party was great, from the table of stories and lunch too. the cake was amazing as well, coming from the bakery that you and mikey often went to for study dates during your teen years. 

“y/n! there you are, i’ve been looking for you everywhere. i just wanted to come here and thank you again for helping out with everything. you’re amazing and i’m so happy to know someone like you.” mikey’s wife came to you and pulled you into a hug, as you pat her back. 

“of course, i wish you both the best of luck and a lot of happiness. treat him good, okay? he’s been through so much and he really deserves this. he’s a little childish and stubborn at times but he’s so sweet. he’s great and it breaks my heart to give him away but he’ll be okay. i know he will, he’s mikey after all.” you laughed, making her break into one as well. 

“mhm, you got it!” she smiled at you once more before being whisked away by another relative for pictures. 

“looks like you’re busy.” you heard a familiar voice behind you, turning around to see mikey grinning at you. 

“yup, busy practicing how to spend the rest of my life alone without my other half.” you teased, making him chuckle. 

“i suppose if you’re not too busy then you can spare some time to have a dance with me?” mikey wiggled his eyebrows, making your lips curl as you took his hand, being pulled away to the dance floor. 

you wrap your arms around his neck as his arms snake around your waist. you both sway to the song and it felt like once again everyone else was just a blur and you both were now back in your own world, just the two of you. 

“thank you, y/n. for everything, from beginning to end. i’ll never be able to repay you for everything that you’ve done for me. without you, i don’t think i’d even be standing here. you’re my one and only, forever and always; my other half.” he genuinely spoke, eyes glimmering with love and adoration, turning your brain into a bunch of mush and heart becoming all fuzzy. 

“you just got married, mikey, don’t make your wife turn against me by saying those kind of things.” you chuckled, making him crack a smile. 

“i mean it, you’re very special to me, y/n.” mikey said, tucking in a piece of hair behind your ear. you felt suffocated, feeling your airways and chest tightening. you couldn’t tell if it was from all that food you stress-ate or the feelings that threatened to pour out right this moment.

“can we go somewhere private, i gotta tell you something.” you urgently ushered him, as he quickly nodded his head before being dragged away to the groom’s room. 

you quickly closed the door behind you, locking it before turning to face him. mikey grew concerned at your behavior and silence as he constantly asked if you were okay.

“if someone were to ask me what would be the best and worst day of my life, i would tell them that it was the day that i met you.” you breathed out, making mikey tilt his head to the side in confusion. 

“huh?” he managed to say. 

“it was the day where i found someone that understood me as a person deep from within, knew my every thought and feeling before i even had to say it or act on it. i found my other half, the person that made me, well, me. the person whom i’ve grown to not be able to live without as well. which also brings it to why it’s my worst day as well.” you grew silent, words feeling too heavy to spew out as tears gathered in your eyes. 

“the person that i can’t live without, mikey.” you choked out, tears now streaming down your face as mikey’s eyes widened. 

“y/n, i don’t under-”

“i love you, okay! not as a friend, but as someone more. i wanted to be the person that you spend the rest of your life with.” you cried, making him gulp harshly. 

“i wanted to be your bride.” you sadly laughed, looking up at him with a tear-stained face as your mascara and eyeliner was now smudged. 

“oh my god, y/n.” he whispered, trying to pull you into a hug but you quickly stopped him. 

“don’t! if you hug me right now, i’ll break and won’t be able to stop myself. please, just hear me out. when we went ring shopping, i never wanted to take it off of my finger and it felt so nice when you put it on me. that night, i went home and couldn’t stop envisioning a future where it was us instead. i’ve loved you ever since we were kids, mikey.” you confessed, making him break into tears as he pulled you into a hug, unable to contain himself. 

“then why the hell didn’t you say anything before? you even had the chance to object when the priest said the vows. why didn’t you say anything!” he sobbed, his embrace tightening as if he never wanted to let you go. 

“because she’s good, mikey. you need a wife who’s sweet, tender, gentle and understanding. she’s perfect for you, mikey. you’ll be okay, i know you will.” you gave him a sad smile, holding his face as you looked deep into his eyes. 

“but you’re also-”

“no, mikey. you need someone who can cherish you and spend many more happy years to come. i can’t give you that.” you sniffled, making him furrow his eyebrows. 

“i don’t understand, what’s going on?” mikey panicked.

“i’m dying, mikey. that day that i met you, i was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor and it seems that i barely have a full month left to live. i was supposed to be long gone by last month but i guess i was lucky enough to see you get married.” you cried with a smile. 

“no, no, you’re lying to me. this can’t be! y/n, this isn’t time for jokes, please, i can’t lose you too. i’ll marry you, i’ll manage something, i promise. please, just don’t leave me.” he begged, holding onto you like you would disappear from his reach if he were to let go. 

“mikey, don’t make all of this go into vain. i worked so hard to come to terms with my feelings and get closure. which is why i waited until after the wedding to tell you because even if i do leave you, you’ll have her to be there with you. you need to live for me, and enjoy your life in happiness. okay?” you sobbed, trying to convince him but he kept shaking his head in denial. 

“no! please, y/n! i-i-”

“here, make sure to share with her, alright? don’t get too greedy.” you tried to joke to lighten the mood, as you opened his palm to give him the container of chocolate pudding. 

“y/n, please.” he cried, but you were stern with your decision. you felt yourself becoming light-headed and the familiar feeling of nausea. it almost felt like you were dying, ironically. 

“bye, mikey.” you gave him a soft kiss on his cheek before running out of the room. mikey yelled your name behind like a madman as he ran after you, but you were too ahead. the fresh air hit your skin, sending goosebumps everywhere and it felt like you could breathe again. 

you walked over to draken’s car and opened the door, sitting down as you were about to close the door. 

“i love you too, y/n! i always have and always will.” was the last thing you heard before slamming the door shut, breaking into tears. 

“start the car, ken.” you said in between your sobs, driving away from the church. 

“so, you gonna hide from him forever or what? you know, y/n, i never told you how much i love you. well, not like that. but, i’m grateful for having someone like you in my life. i’d do anything to make you smile, you’re the most selfless and kind person i’ve ever met. an angel is what you are.” draken rambled, making you softly chuckle.

“thanks ken, i love you too.” you tiredly slurred your words, draken glancing at you as he stopped at a light, a smile etching on his face.

“seems like you’re tired, let’s get takeout tonight and go to the movies with remi. you know, just like the old days. what do you say?” draken asked, only to be met with silence. he chuckled to himself as he decided to not bother you and let you sleep till you both got home. 

draken finished parking the car, calling your name a few times to try and wake you up, but you wouldn’t budge. 

“jeez, gonna make me carry your ass up those damn stairs.” he groaned while getting out of the car and opening the door to yours. 

“y/n-” he grew quiet, seeing your pale face made his blood run could. draken quickly bent down and put his ear on your heart, two fingers on your wrist. 

no beat, no pulse. 

“no, no⸻y/n, wake up! please, i need you to wake up!” draken cried, wrapping his arms around your cold and lifeless body to give you some of his warmth. 

but it was no use, you were already gone. 

[deletarius-draws]

Baldur’s Gate 3 ~ “Harmonious Ardor”

Solus Aximand (Tav) & Lae’zel

So this piece took me the most time to touch up, originally it was supposed stay in a sketch to inked phase of the two, but then of course I decided to explore other possible additions to the piece. Such as background ideas, I knew for certain they’d be in the Astral Sea somewhere, so I looked into a few references, firstly being from an entirely different game. “The Siofra River” in Elden Ring, that underground area where the ceiling looks exactly like that of a cosmos, with stars and misty Nebula. It’s one of my favorite places in the game, the ruined architecture, white bark trees and ghostly figures that roam that there. This inspired the initial execution of the piece, then after setting the scenery of the background and adding a few things, I looked for more references of a cosmos, in other franchises as well as actual photos of space to further ground the foundation. I looked into Warhammer 40k’s Warp photos too, but of course, if one is familiar with 40k’s lore on the warp, I personally thought, “Nah… Far too chaotic of a depiction, lovely illustrations, but it wouldn’t mesh harmoniously with Sol & Lae’s tranquil & loving embrace, the center piece of the whole thing. I did want to convey the passion through certain use of colors however with just as much peace, respect and unconditional love the two have for one another. So finally I delved into some actual dnd Astral Sea references, browsing through the otherworldly and spiritually inspired illustrations, especially the older edition artworks. Eventually I came across Astral Plane lore and did a bit of reading as I absorbed what I could from the reference images, which helped with painting in proper colors for where the two are currently. Taking Color Pools and other atmospheric lore of the Astral Sea into consideration. I’ve currently been in a sci-fi fantasy mood for quite some time, again. Which helped bring the overall piece together here, I’ve been writing up my own lore of my world’s Astral Plane, keeping the drive to finish the piece alive. Of course I’ve also taken inspiration from the game itself from the screenshots I took while the party visited the Astral Plane for a few moments during my playthroughs.

They are on a floating landmass amidst other floating islands and debris, I honestly can’t say if this is before or after the wars against Vlaakith. Personally I’d like the think it’s after but it is also possible it’s some time in the middle, as they would also find and cherish the moments of repose and peace. The constant fighting, deepening bonding and venturing, the two stay as close together, only splitting if they tactically must, usually if not always in the same general area they reunite. Solus and Lae’zel prefer to be inseparable, they move and fight as one, they know this, that they are indomitable together, but if need-be, will separate, only to always rejoin shortly after during strategic planning. Being just as monumental in combat separately, ensuring the two do not ever fail to return to the other’s embrace, in their own love language they call this, “Our Eternal Return”.

I greatly appreciate you if you read all that, I usually don’t write out my thought and creative process, but it does help to keep the drive alive. I had more but thought this is long enough, I’m still writing head canon of the two as well as fleshing out Solus Aximand (one of my Tavs) as his own character more. I really appreciate the likes, reblogs and eyes that see my work. I’ll be in the shadows working on more in the meantime.

[bella-rose29]

Not Your Lover - Chapter 8 (final chapter)

Gregor finally gets some backstory (been a long time coming) although it's actually quite depressing (I'm sorry)

shit goes down in this one (both bad and good)

ok edit: this is the last part of this series (I know 😭), there's a better explanation on the master list if you would like, but thank you to everybody who has liked, commented, reblogged, or even just read and enjoyed <3

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: swearing, the mother is (you guessed it) still a bitch, mentions of death, mentions of a stillborn, grief, Gregor sees Nik as a son (I cried writing that honestly he's so sweet), the mother gets her ass verbally handed to her, idk what else there is other than it's only been proof-read once

Tag list: @a-candle-maker, @bish-lasagna, @bubybubsters, @el-de-phi, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @iambored24601, @itsyoboo-jassy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @little8sun, @mrsklockwood, @mvidaaaa, @nalie-98, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @notoakay, @pietromaximoffsbabe, @shadowwolf202101blog, @simbaaas-stuff

As always, let me know here if you would like to be added to/removed from my Nikolai tag list <3

series master list

Y/n was having a shit day.

She hadn't seen Nik- Nikolai, since he'd told her who he was the day before, and she felt awful about how she'd dealt with it. It was irrational, really, since she knew that he wasn't Davor, but the doubts about what else Nik- Nikolai (Saints, that was still difficult to get her head around) was lying about were creeping in. Her mother's presence in the mansion at the moment was doing absolutely nothing to help.

"-and Davor says that he overheard the two of you the night of the faire, you know, when I found out that the two of you were 'together', and Davor says that he heard you talking about how you were going to pretend to date so that you could use me for your grant! And Davor says tha-"

"Saints, mother! Stop talking about Davor! 'Davor says this' and 'Davor says that', it's exhausting just listening to you!" Y/n was working on the third room, the deadline closing in far too fast for her liking.

Everything would be easier if Nik was helping.

She shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts of him, and went on stubbornly ignoring her mother's incessant rambling, picking up a brush and painting the walls. The entrance hall and first front room were done, but they'd taken longer than she'd expected and now it was a rush to get the third and fourth rooms done in six days. In fairness, she only really had to put the final coat of paint on these walls and finish tidying up and then the second front room was done. It was the final room that was stressing her out, since it needed clearing out, floors replacing, furniture replacing, everything replacing, really, and she'd barely touched it.

Her father had promised to help, which she would be eternally grateful for, but even with somebody lending a hand Y/n had no clue how she would ever get the project done in time.

"You know, I should have expected something like this from you. You're a terrible daughter, do you know that? All I ever wanted was the best for you and you had the audacity to lie to me and take me for granted."

Y/n stopped her work again to stare up in incredulous shock at the woman that called herself her mother. "What? I'm a terrible daughter? You do realise that the only reason that any of this has happened is because of you, right? Because of your failings as a mother?" She stood up, hoping that she looked intimidating.

"How dare you insinuate that-"

"I fucking dare. Get the hell out of my property." Y/m/n wasn't moving, but neither was Y/n, and after a few moments the older woman seemed to realise that she'd lost this fight and left.

~~~

Gregor had smacked Nik for the third time that day, and it was barely lunchtime.

"Focus, boy!"

He felt bad about hitting him on the back of his head, but at the same time Nik hadn't been concentrating and was about to saw his fingers off, so Gregor thought that it was fair.

"Sorry," the younger man muttered, clearly still not with it.

"What's up with you?" Gregor asked, tone softening. "C'mon. If it's gonna stop you working effectively then we'll talk about it." Nik sighed, turning in his seat at the workbench, and for the first time that day Gregor could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

"I told Y/n. She didn't... she didn't take it too well. And Davor and Y/m/n have started going around saying we were faking it-"

"You were though?" Gregor said, confusion lacing his voice.

"Well, yeah, but the point was that nobody was meant to know that. Although I did tell you pretty early on which kind of defeated the point, but you're good at keeping secrets so I felt safe telling you." Gregor's heart swelled at the words and at the knowledge that Nik trusted him enough to share something he wasn't supposed to. It hadn't been long after Nik's first appearance in Taya that Gregor started seeing the man as a son, helping to fill the hole in his heart that had been empty for so long. His wife had died during the birth of their firstborn son, only for the baby to be stillborn. Gregor had been wrecked, despondent and reserved, and eventually he'd moved out to Taya, hoping that the sea air would heal him. Work had kept his mind off of his past, but every now and then he'd be reminded of the two of them and had to close the shop, sitting in his grief all day doing nothing but staring blankly at a wall and periodically crying, his head in his hands. But Nik, bright and shining Nik, had been the son that Gregor never got the chance to meet, and so knowing that Nik felt that he was somebody he could talk to filled the older man with joy.

"Anyway," Nik continued. "I said I'd give her space. It wasn't the best time to tell her, to be honest, because Davor and her- Y/m/n were giving her shit, and then Evalina appeared, and I think it was just a lot to take in all at once." Gregor didn't miss the way that Nik stopped himself from calling Y/m/n 'Y/n's mother', and he found that, despite having known the woman for years, he agreed that she had been too despicable the past few weeks to be called a mother to anybody.

"Well, can you still help out with the mansion? I know she's stressed about that since she's got a whole room left that she hasn't touched and maybe that'll help her figure things out?"

"I don't know. I'd have to go when she's not there, I think. Otherwise I'll feel that I'm pressuring her into an answer or something."

"Well, she normally gets back here around seven bells, and heads out around five in the morning to get the bakery open. Not ideal hours for you to go and help out at the mansion, but I'll let you slack off a bit in the morning if you're tired."

"You sure? Thank you, Gregor. Really. I was going to ask where she's staying, too. She's here then?"

"Yeah. I've got a spare bedroom upstairs. Not the nicest, but at least the heating works," he joked, knowing full well that the hotel heating was complete shit. He'd tried many times to fix it, but somehow (he suspected the owners were Grisha and deliberately breaking it to avoid paying heating bills) it always ended up worse than before. Nik huffed a laugh, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Come on," Gregor said. "Let's get this desk sorted, yeah? If I remember rightly they're coming tomorrow morning to pick this up."

~~~

That night, Nikolai made the short walk to the mansion.

The street lamps dimly lit the way, making the shadows lengthen and concealing people walking along the pavements, but Nikolai wasn't afraid.

Not when he had his demon on high alert for any sign of danger.

Thankfully they made it to the building without incident, although Nikolai could have sworn that Davor was following him, and once they were inside he let his demon out.

"You're helping, alright? You can fuck around a little bit while I get started, but when I need your help, you help, okay?" His demon nodded, stretching out his wings and immediately running off into the bowels of the house. Nikolai sighed, then headed into the back room to make a start on clearing the space.

~~~

"What the fuck?"

Y/n was standing with her father in the mansion just after eleven bells the next day, staring at the empty fourth room.

"Do you... do you know what happened, Dad?"

"Uh... nope. Looks like somebody wants you to get this finished though. Not sure why they wouldn't just... come and help during the day," he frowned, shifting the toolbox he carried. Y/n frowned for a moment too, until she realised who was most likely to do something like this.

"Well," her father declared, striding forwards. "Let's not waste time! We need to get these floorboards up and replaced! Come on!"

The next hour or so was spent doing just that, ripping up floorboards with much more aggression than was needed (both Y/n and her father were taking out their anger on the job), and by the time Y/n had to go back to the bakery they'd stripped the whole room and had made a start on laying the new boards. She was just stepping into her shop when Evalina appeared, and it took a tremendous amount of willpower on Y/n's behalf to not punch the woman in her stupid face right then and there.

"Hi, Y/n. So Nik is single, yeah? Because I would love to see what he's like as a lover."

"Fuck off, Evalina." Y/n walked around the counter, tying on her apron. "Unless you wanna buy something?"

"I'm not hearing anything saying I can't be with him, which is perfect! I'll go find him now!" She ignored Y/n's protests and pranced to the door, but didn't get a chance to open it and rush down the street because a woman had thrown her arm out. Holding the door closed, she raised an eyebrow at Evalina, her other hand resting lightly on one of the axes at her belt.

"You're gonna do no such thing, alright? Go and find some other poor sod to run after, because he is a taken man," the woman threatened, and Evalina paled slightly when an axe was lifted and held up to her throat, nodding so hard Y/n thought her head might go flying. Satisfied, the woman released the door and let Evalina disappear around the corner, watching her go, then turning to face the counter. "You're Y/n L/n, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Who are you?" she asked with a frown. How did this random woman know who she was?

"Tamar Kir-Bataar. You're in contact with Nikolai, correct?"

"No. Well, yes. Well, no. It's complicated," she finished with a sigh.

"But you know where he is? Because I need to find him and the little shit is being evasive. Does he ever open his mail?"

"Um, I don't- I don't know? Wait," Y/n frowned, picking up on something. "How do you know he's Nikolai?"

Now it was Tamar's turn to frown, clearly unsure what the situation was. "Because I used to work with him? Until he ran off into the countryside. Took a good while to track him down, sneaky bastard. He was always good at disappearing."

"Wha- okay." She huffed a sigh, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Well, he's probably at Gregor's, the mechanic. Although he could be taking a lunch break, but I don't know where he'll be if he is. Why do you need to find him?"

"The crown needs him. Urgent business. I'm not obliged to say any more than that, I'm afraid. Thanks for the help," she smiled, heading for the exit. The bell on the door chimed behind her, and Y/n replied to an empty room.

"You're welcome."

~~~

Nikolai dropped his spanner when Tamar walked in and called his name, which was unfortunate because he was on his back, and therefore the tool fell on his face.

"Fuck," he muttered, clutching his nose.

"You alright down there?"

"Yep, all good!" he called, hoping she couldn't hear the pain in his voice as he pushed himself out from under the carriage he was fixing. "Not that it's not lovely to see you, Tamar, but what are you doing here?"

"Zoya needs you. We've been trying to contact you for weeks now, but you haven't replied."

"When you say contact...?"

"Letters, mostly. Have you just not been reading your mail, Nikolai?"

"I haven't been getting mail. And just Nik would be great. People don't know who I am here, stops any assassination attempts. Well, Gregor knows, actually, but I doubt he's going to kill me."

"...Okay. Well, we need you to be Sturmhond for a little while. Shit's going down with the Kerch and they're refusing to loan us money right now despite our crippling debt because they don't like Zoya being on the throne."

"But they were fine with it when I abdicated a month or so ago. Why are they complaining now?" He wiped his hands on a nearby cloth, frowning at Tamar.

"They've got some new people on the council, and apparently they're really anti-Grisha. We need you to convince them otherwise and get those loans." Nikolai sighed, bracing himself against the workbench.

"I can't just uproot my life here, Tamar. I've got... stuff."

"Look, your girlfriend will still be here when you get back. You'll only need to be gone for what, two weeks at most?"

"My girlfr- oh, you mean Y/n."

"Yeah. Who else would I be talking about?"

"I don't know," he sighed, exasperated. Everything was happening far too quickly and all at the same time, and he had no idea what to do about any of it. On top of all of that, he was apparently meant to be receiving mail, none of which had arrived. "Look, I can't leave now. I've got jobs in the garage I need to finish off and the deadline for Y/n's project is in five days. Just give me until after then, okay?"

"We can't wait that long, Niko- Nik. There's trouble in Kerch and you're the only one good enough at getting what you want to fix it."

"There's always trouble in Kerch. Can't you send our good friend Kaz after them? He could threaten them in the middle of the night with murder or something."

"Kaz won't do it unless we pay him an inordinate amount of money," Tamar grumbled, and Nikolai couldn't help but think what a good idea that was.

"Five days, Tamar. And I'll give my most convincing speech yet, how's that?"

"Fine. But I want you going straight there, no detours. We're already behind thanks to your missing mail."

"Yeah, I'll look into that. I have my suspicions on who could have been intercepting my letters."

"I'm going to make the journey back. Five days. And then you make a move," she pointed a finger at him, stern look on her face.

"Five days." Five days to finish the third and fourth rooms. Five days to get Y/n back onside.

No pressure, then.

~~~

That night, Nikolai headed back to the mansion, his demon scurrying across the rooftops out of sight from pedestrians.

He spent most of his time laying the rest of the floorboards, then painted the walls with a first coat in the colour that Y/n had left with a note saying 'Room 4 walls'. His demon was helpful, or at least trying to be, picking up a brush in his mouth and attempting to paint the walls, but when Nikolai saw how haphazardly the job had been done he gave a tut and let the demon wander off and explore the rest of the mansion.

It was strange, how friendly the two of them were now.

Since the events within the Fold things had been different, almost as if now that they were two beings sharing one body they had to learn to get along or go mad instead. Nikolai had previously thought that he'd never be pleased to see the demon, or enjoy its company when it was a reminder of what he had suffered at the hands of the Darkling, but every now and then when it went quiet in his head he grew concerned, or when it chased after its own tail like a dog he laughed, and sometimes, in the depths of the night when nightmares kept Nikolai awake, the demon would curl up around him, offering what comfort it could.

Watching it now, he wondered how they were ever not this close. It was sort of like having a large cat, Nikolai thought. One that didn't shy away from a spot of murder.

The sound of stones being kicked made both man and demon swivel their heads to the entryway of the mansion, and Nikolai paused with the paintbrush mid-air.

"Hey, easy," he whispered to the demon, hoping it would take the hint and stop growling. Footsteps sounded, louder than the stones, and after a moment Y/m/n appeared. Nikolai was surprised to see her, not expecting her to turn up this late at night. He felt his demon hide itself in a corner, the long shadows helping conceal its dark form.

"Hello, Nik."

"Y/m/n," he said tightly, suppressing a grimace. "How can I help you?" He didn't bother disguising the contempt in his tone, no matter how schooled his expression was, and she noticed.

"You can start by going home. This is Y/n's project, not yours."

"Bullshit. She's just the manager of it. Anyone can help."

"Well, she needs to grow up. A child's dream is just that. Perhaps I entertained her fantasies too much when she was younger, but this has gone on long enough and I need to put a stop to it. So, put the paintbrush down, and go to bed. She needs to do this on her own, and when she inevitably fails she'll come home. Back to me."

Nikolai couldn't stop the laugh of disbelief that came out of his mouth, and now he made sure that she could see every emotion on his face. "You really think that she'll go back to you?" When Y/m/n nodded he only scoffed. Maybe she hadn't heard him properly at the market the other day. "You are delusional. You put her down, crushed her, destroyed her, and made her hate you with every fibre of her being, and now you think that she'll forget every comment, every moment where you made her feel like she wasn't a good enough daughter, and act as though nothing happened? No, I'm talking," he said when she tried to interrupt, his tone hardening. "You have ripped your family apart, and there is no amount of grovelling that you can do to get it back. You tore our relationship, too. Yes, it was fake to start with, but our feelings are real. So real that it fucking hurts to know that she has a mother like you, because you don't deserve her. I don't deserve her, but at least I know that she's the best I'll ever do and that I need to worship her like the goddess she is. You don't recognise that you've done anything wrong. And if you ever talk about her like that again, I will make good on my words from the other day. I will find you, and I will ruin you. Because she is the love of my life, and if she'll have me, my future wife. There's nobody but her for me." He paused, chest heaving from the realisation of what he'd just admitted. "We're done here. You can go." Y/m/n looked surprised at the dismissal, but the authority that had crept into Nikolai's voice made her scurry off into the night, her metaphorical tail between her legs.

The demon slunk back into the light, nuzzling up to Nikolai's hand in what felt like pride and comfort, and he was so preoccupied with giving it chin scratches he didn't notice the second figure that had been lingering outside the mansion.

~~~

"Nik? You here?"

"He's out," a voice replied, and Y/n deflated slightly when she recognised it as Gregor. "Went to get lunch. He should be back in about-" he checked his watch, then said "ten minutes. Do you wanna wait?"

"Uh... yeah, sure. Thanks, Gregor." She perched on a chair in the waiting area, anticipation making her buzz with energy. She couldn't sit still, leg bouncing and gaze darting around the room, and every second that passed felt agonisingly slow.

After seven minutes (and thirty-four seconds, although she definitely hadn't been counting) Nik walked in, and he froze with his eyes wide when he saw Y/n waiting in the shop. She stood up quickly, opening and closing her mouth as she tried to start the speech she'd been planning all morning. Gregor walked back out into the main shop after disappearing into the back rooms to fetch supplies, and upon noticing the two of them stood staring at each other, he excused himself, offering up his office as a quieter space for them to talk. They accepted, clumsily thanking him at the same time and walking hesitantly over.

Nik closed the door behind them, and despite the large room Y/n felt cramped, the air heavy with the words she couldn't find the strength to say just yet.

"How have you been?" he asked, his voice quiet. He wasn't looking at her, and she was stubbornly refusing to look at him, but she could picture his exact expression.

"I heard you last night." She winced, not meaning to start there. He didn't say anything, and after a few moments of no sound but the clock in the office loudly ticking she braced herself and glanced up. "Nik? I didn't mean to say it like that. I just- the first night, when I came in in the morning and the room was clear, I assumed it was you, so I came over the next night to make sure, and also to talk to you, I guess. But then my mum was there and I was about to turn around and leave, but then you started talking to her and saying all those things and-" she broke off when he met her gaze, taking a breath.

"How... how much did you hear?" His voice was hoarse, like he was trying to hold back his emotions.

"From around when you told her she was delusional." She bit her lip, nerves taking over the small wave of confidence she'd just had.

"Right." Nik cleared his throat, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. "And... do- what-"

"I love you, Nik. And I wanna try being with you, for real. I can't promise that I won't be wary, and I can't promise that I won't doubt you at times, but I can promise that that isn't your fault, it's Davor's. And I can promise that should you ever propose, I'll say yes." He took a shuddering breath, a shaky smile forming on his face as he took a step towards her. Y/n wasn't sure who moved after that, but somehow they ended up meeting in the middle, arms wrapped around each other as he held her face and kissed her like he'd never let her go again. They parted after a while, taking heaving breaths and resting their foreheads against each other. Nik didn't move his hands from her cheeks, and Y/n slid hers up to cover them where they sat, linking their fingers the best she could.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. "I love you."

"I love you too. Just no more lies, yeah? I'm not sure I can handle that."

"Got it. No more lies." He went quiet for a moment and then said: "Is now a really bad time to tell you that I need to leave for two weeks?" Y/n pulled back so that she could search his eyes, huffing a laugh when she saw how concerned he was.

"I think it's a great time, actually. Does this have anything to do with that woman? What was her name... Tamar?"

"Yes. Apparently I'm the only one who can talk a nation into being cooperative. I've managed to make it so that I don't have to leave until after the deadline, though, so I can keep helping out."

"You didn't have to do that, Nik. Really."

"What, and leave you wondering where I'd gone? No thank you. You'd most likely murder me when I got back."

"I would never!" she exclaimed, laughing when he gave her a look that said he knew she was lying.

"Oh, you so would, darling." She'd forgotten how sweet the name sounded, sending her heart into a flutter.

"Hm, maybe," she murmured into his lips, moving her hands to wrap around his neck and hold him in place (not that he needed much encouragement). They only broke apart because Gregor coughed very loudly in the doorway, an unimpressed look covering up the smile he was attempting to hide.

"If the two of you could refrain from using my office as a room to fuck in that would be brilliant." Y/n snorted, and Nik nodded, both of them flushing at the thought. "Great. Nik, back to work. Y/n, I'll see you at dinner."

He swung the door shut behind him, leaving Nik and Y/n holding back laughter in the office.

[orbitsuns]

tada! as requested by anon & since this is one my frequently asked questions i thought i'd finally make it a proper post! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

first things first, i use photoshop cc 2018 to edit & with just a keyboard n mouse. my editing is HEAVILY inspired by the amazing stellarfalls !! i'm also still experimenting with things so i'll try to keep this up to date ♡

first i use smooth sharp (no topaz) then i will sometimes mess with curves if my photo is too dark to begin with. then i add my lighting which is just drawing on an overlay layer with a round soft brush :3

(sorry for the weird cropping i was recording the wrong window</3) i'm not a pro at lighting LMAO but i'll put it roughly where light would hit from the surroundings so here would be the fireplace, there's also a lamp behind them. i change the opacity so its not as drastic! for this step & the next i usually lean towards very light yellow, orange & pink for my brush colour!

next is the fun yet most tedious part, specific highlights! the most important part here when you're not using a tablet is shape dynamics > fade under brush settings (smoothing is also your friend as well!) this entire part is trial & error, you basically just outline the sim where light would be hitting them! when i'm done i use the blur brush, make it fit the entire image & click twice. i know that's like super specific it's just what i've found looks best so far •ᴗ•

hair strand time hair strand time!! i'm still not really satisfied with them yet (think i'm just being overly picky tbh LMAO) but this is how i do them now. basically following literalite's old hair strands tutorial, fade is once again your friend! i use a clipping mask to change the colours (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i just use an edited photoshop brush & you can find the settings in literalite's video! but here are some nice hair brushes if you want more variety! x

finishing touches baby! time for some dust & noise ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) this gif shows a whole lotta nothing but i like consistency! anyways, what i'm doing is just sizing the image to fit then changing the blending mode to screen, i usually change the opacity to about 60% or 80% ++ i add 1% noise to the image!

and tada! we're done~ ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

but what about my older posts? all i used to do was add the butter action along with smooth sharp still + dust overlays! up until very recently i also added crinkled paper overlays to my photos

for overlays (things like moodlets, pop ups & text) the most common things i use are bunnithechubs' moodlet psd's! & buglaur's tutorial for text, i used this tutorial for pop ups in my older posts as well! other editing things i may use can be found at my resources page ♡

and now we're completely done, i hope that answers everyone's questions but if you still wanna know something or you're confused please feel free to send me an ask! ヾ(˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶)

[quemirabobo]

My thoughts that literally no one asked for in Percy Jackson's serie

I started this in like January and completely forgot about it and then I was lazy but @atomicdarknight I finished it for you😘

Gonna start with the positive

The cast:

The cast, guys the fucking cast, every demigod is absolutely perfect, not only they have the correct fucking age (although that bar is low) I could completely see them as the characters, they are the perfect representation of each character. With the movies I always complained, out of the three of them and ignoring the age, I could only see Logan Lerman as an older Percy, I think mostly because he looks like the physical description from the books (it was important really important to me that the characters and the actors had the same appearance lol), not sure I've never rewatch them. I remember I would parrot "Annabeth is blonde" as one of my strongest critics and when we were watching them my mom asked me "what do you think so far? I mean they don't look like the book, do you care?" Although I was already onboard, also had shot down my obsession with "actors have to look exactly as the books describe them" and I was very excited to see how an accurate cast would finally be like, and gods it was perfect. I wholeheartedly believe that no one would have made a better Annabeth, Percy nor Grover. They are perfect, they truly understood their roles in a level that it didn't happened in those pathetic movies. Aryan will forever be my Grover, Leah is and forever will be the perfect and my Wise Girl, she definitely is a daughter of Athena, and Walker is no doubt the one and only Percy. I also loved Clarisse, Luke, Dionysus, Sally, almost everyone honestly, because they were so accurate and understood their characters. Every decision they made about how to perform them was on spot and made me so fucking happy💚

Medusa

I was very curious to see what they would do with her since there has been a new perspective of her story (it has always been there, I mean that it's wildly known now) and I was not displeased at all! I liked the actress, how she portrayed her and I loved her monologue.

I love that they took the time to see what to do with her, not just ignore everything and make it like the book, and I was so intrigued by how they would do it because in here, Poseidon is one of the good guys, you can't openly say he raped her. All things considered I think they did it pretty well, although maybe erasing her hate for Annabeth wasn't the best plotwise, since in the first part of the book Percy starts to realize that having a god as a parent also means you inherit all the hatred anyone has for them.

The fight with Ares

One word, perfect. I loved everything about it, the choreography, how tiny Percy looked but how he kicked his ass nonetheless, the effects, the way they edit it to show his training with Luke, EVERYTHING! That being said, Ares was amazing too, spot on actor and portraying, this big ass dude giving his all to fight an 11yo who just learned to grab a sword but getting his ass whooped in exchange, just amazing 💚

Sally

I got mixed feelings with her, I loved that we got to see more of her, how lost she felt and how difficult was raising a demigod but at the same time she had way too much screen time considering how many things were ignored when the final cut was made. Also, even if teaching him mythology and greek was a nice touch at the same time it was a mistake adding it since it was tempting fate, in canon the less they knew about their godly side the safer they were. So giving too much knowledge about mythology was putting him at risk, and Sally was very careful with the way she raised Percy, so it was weird for me.

Now, the negative:

Gabe, just... why??

I will forever be mad about this and I'll never understand it, why would you make him a pathetic, passive aggressive and pretty much harmless looser? Because his character was important and significant, it has a very important impact in how Percy was raised, why he likes blue food, why he feels so guilty every time he gets kicked out, how his house is such a bittersweet place, the conflicts he has with Sally and also it has an impact in the plot too.

If you erase how abusive he was, towards both Percy and Sally, and decide to make him just plain pathetic, it's honestly disrespectful to the characters. Percy loves his mother to death yes, but he also feels like he has to protect her, save her, from the gods and monsters once he realizes he's a demigod but that's not when it started. For years he put up with Gabe's abuse, physical and verbal alike, because he felt he had to do it for his mother, to protect her, he shoulders all that so Sally doesn't has to, because for some reason she's with him so that's his burden as a "troubled kid".

And Sally? Her fucking sacrifice of staying with that disgusting man, who abuse her physically, monetary and verbally, for years because it's the only way she has to protect Percy? Because he fucking reeks to mortal and that will keep the monsters at bay, so the few days her son is at home he can be as safe as she can make it. Even if he got kicked out a lot, Percy was at boarding schools so she had to have that piece of shit all year round just for those brief weeks? How dare they make her huge sacrifice and the awful abuse just go as "he's annoying and stupid"?

To be honest I think that Gabe's abuse was never truly approached at the books either, it was never talked about again after the first book and it left no trauma or lasting consequence on Percy, not the point right now tho

I'm getting mad again so, to the plot part, first I would have loved for Percy to appear on the news and breaking havock for Gabe, wasted moment I swear. But most importantly, the Medusa's head part?? Are we really tacking that too from Sally? To get revenge of the man that abused her and Percy for years? All she's left with is kicking him out and changing the lock, seriously? Not to mention that Percy realizing that Sally also was getting beat by him and wanting to kill him there and then? Where's my boy realizing that all that he putted up to so his mother wouldn't get hurt wasn't enough? That he couldn't protect her? WHY DO YOU TURNED AN ABUSIVE TO A LOOSER?? I'm never forgiving this.

Why make it so short?

This new tendency of making show short is super annoying but specially when those are based on books. I know you can't make every chapter of a book a chapter of the series because sometimes you can condense half of the chapter with just the scene, the dialogue and stuff like that, and I agree actually. The problem comes when the chapters can be condensed to at least 14 episodes but you make 8, cutting everything you deem unnecessary but are important or significant things.

I think everyone can relate when I say that the most appealing thing you think when your fave book it's being adapted to a serie it's that "hey they don't have to condense everything in 2hs, they can take their time and include things that we all love like x and z" So why make it an 8 episode serie? I know everything is money but Percy Jackson has a pretty big fanbase so, unless they fucked up big time like the movies, it surely was going to be a hit

The way they cut all the monsters' traps

If your only focus it's the main plot and cutting down every moment that leads to the key points of it then a lot it's left out. The monsters and theirs traps were spotted even before they could talk, so they ended up on the underworld like it was no big deal. That shady lady? Medusa, off with the head. That mattress store? Not gonna fall Procrustes! They might as well just took a plane to Los Angeles. It felt like they were just crossing items from a list rather than actually integrating parts of the original story in the serie. Besides the way they overcome each of the monsters and adversities is fundamental for character development and growth of the trio, erasing that has a significant impact on them

Percy knowing everything right away downplaying Annabeth

Sounds stupid, I know, but we know how smart our wise girl is and I feel that the moment they decided that Percy was going to be the one to identify the monster and the traps before her, it was unfair for both characters and erased big part of their characters. Percy, even after more than 6 years and 13 books can barely remember and recognize the basic of greek mythology and the monster he fought before. Even if it's funny and some times exasperating, it's part of his character, that kind of knowledge isn't his thing, but you know what is? Coming up with a weird plan out of thin air and making it somehow work. He brings a perspective to the trio that Annabeth, basically raised to be a fighter and strategist, and Grover, with years of experience out there, don't have. He's impulsive and unpredictable, he's a good fighter and is quick-witted, he is smart, even if fandom likes to ignore it, just not the kind of smart that will make him memorize a bestiary. Now, Annabeth? Smart from hair to toe, she's also a quick thinker, sees the danger and comes up with a plan accordingly. She's not just book smart, she's also a problem solver, she is running her fucking cabin like a clock and her siblings put her in that position for a reason, she's the smartest. She's also a strategist, different kind from Percy whose biggest help is his instinct, she has other kind of knowledge at her disposal and you can bet your ass that she'll use it.

Now we all know this because we've seen it when they fight adversities, when they crawl nails and teeth out of a monster's trap, which in the serie we could barely see. One of the ways we get to see Annabeth deep knowledge in mythology is when she spots the covert monsters, that looks like a little granny or just some weird guy. But when you make Percy, who just discovered this world, see through all this that Annabeth couldn't see? Well, you're doing her injustice, she just looks like an amateur, not the smartest person of her generation. I'm not going to talk that it affects Percy character too.

One of the moments I hoped we could see, in which Percy (and I when I read it for the first time lol) truly realizes how out of this world Annabeth intelligence goes is when they have to jump from the boat of the love ride. My wise girl, as they were going to a certain death, did the math to determine the exact moment to jump so they wouldn't die (because if they had jump earlier they would die too, I can't remember why tho, sorry) and she was right. I remember that Percy was baffled by how she did all that in just second, for me that was the most important part of the incident. That and that Percy realize how gods behave and treats them like puppets. Buuuut what did we get? Percy shouting to jump and just that.. It was an important moment to demonstrate how intelligent Annabeth is but it was completely lost for no reason at all

Also, Percy discovering that Chronos is behind everything just like that?????? What the fuck???? It makes no fucking sense, it literally brings nothing to the plot just whatthefuuuuck

Hades... Why?

Hades being pathetic and super chill?? Like honestly wtf? Are you Mr D or Hades dude? This is the guy that's gonna say Nico that he rather he died instead of Bianca? Seriously?? It was by far the most out of character (maybe second to Gabe), besides it just takes the fun away of Percy saying "oh Lord Hades" once and then all "hey uncle". I think I rather the gloomy emo version that hollywood loves so much

I probably had more things to say but completely forgot about it, sorry ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[danielt1985]

Learning To Love Minecraft Again (A Thread)

Written by Daniel T. Gaming

I've been recently falling in love with Minecraft again. After so long of not playing it. I decided to pick it back up & play it again, and It has been one of my favorite things to play in SO long. However, I did a few things to spruce up my newly found interest.

1. A Fresh Client I had decided to switch over from the tradition Minecraft launcher to the ATLauncher, a mod-eccentric client. And while it may look a tad confusing, it's actually very handy. I am now able to save as many different versions of Minecraft I wanted without my save files or mods controlling one another, unlike the official Minecraft launcher. on top of that, the official launcher also installs a bunch of useless Xbox junk because, well, Microsoft.

2. Bringing Back The Old With the ATLauncher's ability to save as many versions of Minecraft with their own dedicated files & saves, I am now safely able to play older versions of Minecraft as my heart desires.

Right now, I'm playing 2 different versions, Beta 1.7.3 (A version regarded by a LOT of people as one of the best versions of Minecraft to play today), and Release 1.5.2 (The first ever version of the game I EVER played back in 2012). I will still pick up & play Release 1.20 cuz I do like a lot of the new decor pieces & things, but if I ever just want to play a standard game of Minecraft, I have these 2 versions to keep me occupied.

There's also the old legacy versions from Consoles that people are coming back to, but I haven't gotten to those yet, but planned on them soon.

3. Making My Own Goals

My mind has always saw that "Beating the Ender Dragon" was the ultimate goal of Minecraft, and that once it's done, it's done. And while a part of me still feels that way, I'm slowly moving away from that, because that mindset has literally KILLED so many of my past Minecraft maps, and I deeply regret it.

So I started to make my own goals & my own rules. My current survival map never had a bulk smelting machine, so I added one. I never got to refine my mine & make it more like an actual mineshaft, so I got to go & do that.

I don't just want to make Minecraft a point A -> B kinda game. I want to make it a game about creating as much stuff as you can. There are people in this world who have been able to build worlds that have taken them over a DECADE to finish... so why not give yourself that same level of encouragement?

4. Playing With Friends I recently managed to get a personal Minecraft server going on an old PC. And playing with my friends has been an AMAZING experience. It's actually pretty cheap to run a server nowadays, and Bedrock editions now have general multiplayer support, so playing with friends is now becoming even EASIER than ever before.

5. Modding Makes The Difference Although I haven't got to do this one yet, I *am* planning on it, as it's been talked about by a LOT of people. There are actually a handful of mods out there that are not just for entertainment, but for bringing fresh vanilla-eccentric changes to Minecraft to keep its charm that it had in its early stages. Two that I have heard of are ReIndev & Better Than Adventure. Both of which actually run off of Beta 1.7.3 too, so that's neat!

I think personally, what these two mods are doing are GREAT, and I cannot wait to play them.

6. Making It Personal

Personally, I've been handling the game on a more personal level, and not too personal to where it's overbearing, but I mean as in I like to just do traditional fan things that I've done long ago. Watch Minecraft videos, pull out the old Minecraft merch I had from when I was young, listen to the soundtrack, etc.

I haven't felt this attached to Minecraft in SO long, but I am glad it's coming back. I might make this whole thing into a video, but until then, I wanted to make this thread to tell you all how I managed to finally get back in touch with Minecraft.

[shanaraharlyah]

💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕

Thank you so much for sending this, Ari! 😘💕 Since I shared some recent ones in Val's ask, I'm going to dive back and share some older stuff I still like and haven't posted here yet!

We'll start with an old drawing from college! I've always loved big cats and I went to college at Penn State University who's mascot is a mountain lion, the Nittany Lion (named after the nearby mountain). I drew a lot of mountain lions while in college, but I still like this one!

Legacy of Kain is the earliest fandom that I ever participated in online. I made a lot of lovely artist friends on DeviantArt through it, some of whom I still keep in touch with! This Ancient Raziel was rendered for a group challenge. It was a challenge because my PC at the time couldn't handle the whole scene and I had to render in layers and combine. It turned out awesome though and I still love it!

This one's not quite so old, but I also don't think it's gotten the attention it deserves. I put a lot of work into re-texturing, adding fur and getting everything just how I imagined it in my head. It is so hard sometimes to translate the vision to the finished work, but I made it happen here and I'm so happy with it. Final Fantasy VIII is my favorite of the series. Laguna is my favorite character, but I identified with Squall so much I can't not love him too.

[fandomz-brainrot]

Softy (Kite x Male Reader)

Originally posted June 20 2021

Also, on an important to the story note, everyone in this fanfic is around 24; Nanami is a bit older at 26, and Go is 20. Thank you ^^

(Only good gif i could find of him lmao)

(Also, too lazy to change any more of these in to 2nd person or edit them at all so theyre all gonna be 3rd person and not proper, if theyre from my wattpad)

---

(Y/n) was hanging around his living room, his roommate Kite nowhere to be found. He was bored to say the least. Deciding that he could find more entertainment outside, he sat in the field near their house. He crossed his legs and sighed, absentmindedly picking the nearby flowers and weaving them into a little crown, the neighborhood cat sauntering up to him.

He smiled at the feline, scratching him behind the ears. "Hey Fluffy!" He cooed. "How are you today bud?" The cat only purred in response. Placing the crown on the cats head, he laughed. The cat didn't mind, and payed next to him.

He was staring up at the clouds, when a familiar man came up behind him. "Hey softy" said the man, causing the other to squeak in surprise and look at him. It was Kite, of course. (Y/n) huffed angrily. "I am not soft!" He said defiantly.

 Kite chuckled, and sat down next to him. Their hands were almost touching, and that fact alone made the "tough" man blush. He had loved this idiot since they had first moved in together, soon after high school. Now, 6 years later, they had moved to Japan to be near their online friends Go and Ayumu.

 Kite broke the silence they were in. "So um... Ayumu and her girlfriend-" "Wait, Ayumu has a girlfriend? Since when!" "Let me finish! Ayumu and her girlfriend, Nanami, want us to go to the movies with them tomorrow. Kinda like a double date thing, but only we're not together. Do you wanna go?"

The (h/c) boy felt his face heat up even more. "Oh I- um yeah sure I'm down," and before he could think about what he was saying, he added, "it's a date then." Kite raised an eye brow and tilted his head in confusion. "I mean yeah if you want it to be. It's a date"

Realizing what he had said, the man in question's eyes widened. His face was bright red at this point. "I'm uh- I'm gonna go inside-" he said and pointed at the house. Kite frowned, but waved slightly as he walked inside.

He headed straight into his room, and flopped onto his bed. Grabbing his pillow, he happy screamed into it, his legs kicking aggressively. He had accidentally planned a date with Kite! The excitement he felt was immeasurable. Now all he had to do was go to sleep, and he'd finally be on that date. After a few hours of just scrolling through his phone, that's exactly what he did.

---

It was date day, and (Y/n) couldn't be more nervous. He was wearing a black Jean jacket with ripped black jeans and a spiked collar, but still felt he didn't look good enough. He looked in the mirror, narrowing his eyes. Calm down (Y/n), you look badass. Now just to see what Kite thought.

He walked into the living room to see his date. The other man was wearing his usual black turtleneck and jeans, but he was still stunning. His eyes widened when (Y/n) walked over to him, a light blush on his cheeks. He walked over to the other boy. "You look... wow" he said breathlessly.

He put his hand up to the spiked collar, his hand brushing the throat of his date. That sent shivers down his spine, his face bright red."T-thanks... You're not too bad yourself" he managed to sputter out, causing Kite to chuckle. "Come on idiot" he said, holding out his hand.

Realizing what he did, he put it back to his side. "Sorry that was a bit forw-" "hey no i don't mind!" He was cut off, as he felt a hand grab his. "Let's just go."

---

The two met the other two girls there. Ayumu smiled, running up to them and giving them big hugs while giggling. "I'm so glad you too could make it!" She said happily. "Wouldn't miss it" (Y/n) replied with a small smile. "What movie are we even seeing?" Ayumu led them to go purchase their tickets. "They're replaying The Exorcist, so we're gonna watch that"

(Y/n) paled, his eyes widening. He hated horror movies, he was always so easily scared. "Neato. Cool. Great choice" he said with an awkward chuckle. "Anyways, you should meet my girlfriend. Kite, (Y/n), meet Nanami, and Nanami, meet Kite and (Y/n)!" She said cheerfully, shoving said girlfriend over to her friends.

The taller girl smiled and waved. "Pleasure to meet you too" she said politely. Kite was the one to respond, "You too. Now, for the movie. Everything is on me guys!"

---

They were watching the movie, a big bucket of popcorn between the couples. (Y/n) reached for some popcorn and, in cliche fanfiction fashion, Kite did the same and they ended up holding hands the whole time.

And then the jump scares came. Despite his tough facade, (Y/n) was secretly a huge coward. Especially during one specific jump scare which caused him to jump halfway out of his seat and scream rather loudly.

Kite looked at him and chuckled, an eyebrow raised. "You okay tough guy?" He asked jokingly. "I'm fine, I don't know what to talk about!" And that statement earned him an eye roll and a soft smile. Kite put his arm over the other man'a shoulders and held him. "Whatever, softy"

[salemwritesxx]

𝓲𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓭.

𝔹 𝔸 𝕂 𝕌 𝔾 𝕆 𝕌  𝕂 𝔸 𝕋 𝕊 𝕌 𝕂 𝕀

     ⇴ male reader [22, virgin]      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ summary: Bakugou is a 34 year old pro-hero. He had been single since reaching his thirties until one inexperienced, young pro-hero caught his attention a few months ago – [Your.name]. For the past six months [Your.name] and Katsuki have been dating and without knowing it, both of them are struggling with their feelings and emotions, until it all explodes eventually.

↣ rating: / ↣ warnings: Age Gap (12 years), older Bakugou (34), shy virgin reader, cute, sexual tension, sexual things implied

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Standing in the kitchen, you were setting the table while your eyes wandered to your boyfriend every now and then. Bakugou was in front of the oven, adding finishing touches to the dinner he had cooked, not really realizing you were looking at him.

With a small gulp you hastily turned your head again and stared onto one of the plates, your heart racing and blood rushing down south – just by looking. Though, who could really blame you? Katsuki was, despite your age gap, so fucking beautiful and handsome, it was hard for you to keep your cool around him. It also didn’t help that you hadn’t had any sexual experience yet. Thus, you were even more sensitive to… simply everything.

“No! Think about something gross!”, you yelled inside your head, because one glance to your boyfriend made your stomach cramp with all the happy, fluffy feelings that were rushing through your body. (Together with the very horny, very desperate feelings that made their way down south.)

“[Your.name]?”, Bakugou suddenly called your name and touched your shoulder, hence a yelp escaped your lips. You were way too caught up in your own thoughts.

“K-Katsuki-san!”, you stammered, an instant jolt wandering down in your lower abdomen making you gulp. He was so close, smelled so nice, looked so sexy, the way his plush lips looked so soft, his muscles from all the hard work, his pecs and yet the small waist and just-

“Are you okay, [Your.name]? You’ve been silent for a while…”

“No!”, your voice went high-pitched, “I am completely fine!”

With a raised brow, Bakugou looked at you, the pro-hero not really convinced. You didn’t know, you couldn’t know, but your weird behavior worried him. He didn’t want to show or say it, but he was insecure.

“Okay… Dinner’s ready soon.”

“Okay! Thank you, Katsuki-san!”, with that, you quickly turned around and almost fled into the bathroom.

He wondered if you felt awkward due to the age gap.

Biting his lip, he also turned back to the oven. Since he was already 34, Katsuki hadn’t even wanted to date you in the beginning, despite there being obvious sparks between you. But, having a 12 year age gap was not something that could be easily overlooked – at least that’s what he thought in the beginning. Now, he was very comfortable with you, however, some things started to feel a little… iffy.

You had been dating for almost half a year at that point and there had been NOTHING sexual happening between you two. By now, he was rather insecure and wondered if you just simply didn’t find him attractive or too old. But then again, you were the one who was persistent until he gave in to try and date you. So why was it so different now, a few months later? Did you not like him anymore?

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to initiate things. Fuck, he hadn’t had sex in like four years after his last relationship ended horribly and he needed time to be ready again. So to be dating and not have sex was bizarre to him, because if you would just try, he would willingly jump you any second – but seeing you so passive, he worried he would overstep a boundary if he dared to try something. You were so much younger after all.

“Ugh! I fucking hate this. Relationships are way too fucking hard.”, he thought while quietly sighing.

--

It all came crashing down a few days later.

Bakugou was freshly out of the shower and still drying himself, when he heard his apartment door being opened and your voice calling for him.

“Katsuki-san? I’m sorry for the intrusion, my friend just got me two tickets to-“, you said excitedly while walking into his home, however, stopped immediately when he came around the corner with a mere, short towel around his hips.

“Two tickets?”, he said so casually, not realizing how hard it was for you to stay calm as all your blood was rushing south.

“No- I- uh- uhm! I-“, you helplessly stuttered before turning around, literally about to just run away, when Bakugou, however, decided enough was enough.

And thus, he grabbed your arm, stopping you from fleeing yet again.

“Wait! What’s the fucking problem?!”

“No- it’s nothing, I just-“

“Kiss me!”, Katsuki then suddenly demanded, catching you off-guard.

You swore you were about to explode, but in the end, you complied and nodded. You WANTED to touch and kiss him, you were just too shy to act upon your pent up horny feelings. So once you stepped closer again, you leaned down to just peck his lips.

And Bakugou seriously thought you wanted to make fun of him. Thus, he grabbed your neck and pulled you down further, this time however kissing you fully on the mouth – hot, passionate and fiery. Thankfully, you immediately kissed him back and it truly seemed like you had relaxed a bit.

“Why don’t you stay the night, [Your.name]?”, he finally asked after pulling back, panting a little. However, he did not think your reaction would be so strong when you stepped back immediately.

“No, I can’t- I, Katsuki-san- and… uhm-“

And that’s when Bakugou simply snapped. Being rejected was one thing, but being rejected from the one who you were dating was definitely hurtful on another level.

“What’s your fucking problem, [Your.name]?! If you don’t like me anymore, just say it and LEAVE. I am done putting up with your shit. I am too fucking old for that!”, he was furious and yelled, before turning around and walking into the living room.

Now you’ve done it.

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you realized how stupid you had been acting the last couple of months, ever since that desperate horny feeling was taking over you.

“No! Wait- Katsuki-san!”, you hastily ran after him, “That’s not it at all! I really, really like you-“

“Oh really?!”, Bakugou interrupted you.

“Fuck, [Your.name], you won’t even fucking kiss me properly, do you REALLY think I am believing you??? Don’t waste our time and just be straightforward and find someone else who suits you better, huh?”

“Katsuki-san, no! That’s not it! I swear it’s not you, it’s-“

“Then what the fuck is it!?!?”

“I am a virgin!”, you then suddenly blurted out, cheeks flaming hot.

“Oh…”

“And you’re so hot and amazing and I don’t want to disappoint you with my non-existing skills and you’re probably weirded out because what 22 year old is a virgin nowadays, you know? Hahaha aha.. so-“, though before you could ramble on more and embarrassingly laugh at yourself, a hand on your cheek and soft lips on yours suddenly stopped you.

Once more, you melted into the kisses, your hands awkwardly placing themselves on his exposed waist. His bare skin underneath your fingertips felt absolutely amazing, you would probably short circuit if you were to touch him deeper.

“You’re so stupid and cute…”, Katsuki then whispered, all his worries and insecurities falling off his shoulders.

“You’re not… disappointed, Katsuki-san?”, you sheepishly mumbled.

“Why would I? I don’t fucking care. I was just… worried. Like you regretted asking me out and you weren’t into this anymore.”, now he was slightly looking to the other side, a soft pinkish hue on his cheeks.

“NO! I like you so much, Katsuki-san!”

Catching him off guard you suddenly hugged him so passionately you both stumbled back a bit and Bakugou’s little towel loosened and eventually fell to the floor. Which you immediately noticed due to the fabric landing on your feet.

“Oh…”

Though before you could pull back in embarrassment, Bakugou had cupped your face and kissed you – quick and soft, a mere peck really. But it made you stop in your erratic movement, even if your cheeks were warm and your [eye.color] eyes shimmered with embarrassment.

“So… how do you feel? Wanna stop running and finally try?”

“YES!”, the way your voice cracked and was all high-pitched was enough for Bakugou to grin widely – you were so cute.

“Good, because I was so fucking close to just jumping you in the next days.”, and with that, Katsuki pulled you down again, lips colliding and tongues meeting in a passionate embrace.

Your raging hormones were all over the place, but now that Bakugou knew, it was easier to let loose and not feel like you had to catch up to him. Because in the end, it was impossible to catch up on a 12 year old age gap, but at least today you could embark on your sexual journey filled with lots of love and lust.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: I just find shy reader and older baku so cute. idk if I will write the nsfw to this but I am kinda wanting to… see how experienced baku just completely wrecks yn hmmm so yeah let me know what you think!

[eatyourchancletas]

SUMMARY |  y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

[chapter index] [playlist] [previous chapter]

AUTHOR’S NOTE | we’re back! sorry for the long break, hopefully we can get into the flow of things! monnie’s already started chapter 5 off amazingly too :p written by both of us this time (mainly edited by monnie)! please leave feedback, like, reblog, whatever you can to let us know whether you enjoyed it or not!  (re-edited because dongwoo and changsik were switched up)

WORD COUNT | 2.4k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe​  if you’d like to be added to the list please say so in our inbox/ask box!

y/n was usually called outstanding, hard-working, smart. but in reality, he was an idiot when he was outside the workforce. 

being a workaholic meant showing your skills, growing them, improving them, and practicing them constantly. sometimes it seemed to be all he knew— it’s what all the people around him saw. 

yet again, outside of it he’s quite a gullible man; which brings him to his current situation… 

“looking for something?” 

he looked away from the bandages he was previously examining to come face to face with a man that looked around his age. “not really, just restocking my clinic. or—trying to find things to restock it with.” the man nods, glancing around suspiciously, although y/n didn’t didn’t seem to take notice of this particular action. 

“this pharmacy is pretty small, but it has lots of good supplies… lots of hidden gems. want me to show you where i get my tools?”

“oh,” y/n blinked in surprise, “you’re in the medical field?”

the man made eye contact with him, managing a convincing smile. “yeah, there’s a clinic down the road from here, about fifteen minutes by foot, this is the nearest pharmacy, so we stock up from here most of the time. i work there as an assistant.”

y/n nodded, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “wow, then please! show me what you suggest.”

at the approval, the man nodded, “name’s changsik, by the way. what do you work as? i’m assuming you’re also in the medical field.”

they walked along the aisle of the cough syrups, ointments, and the few other medicines to turn and make their way to the exit door. y/n furrowed his brows, about to ask why they were exiting until changsik made another turn, walking towards the staff room. 

“your assumption is correct, i’m a surgeon…” he replied belatedly, trailing off as he stepped foot inside the room. his eyes trailed on the shelves full of unopened boxes, more prescription pills, and—bingo! the supplies he’d written down on his list. 

for a split second, the memory of san handing it to him flashes across his mind, blinking it away as he turned to changsik. “wait, how are you able to access this?”

“i’m a regular.” he glanced across at him, looking past the window. “and also the perks of having a pharmaceutical license,” a hefty laugh left his mouth, “took some convincing though.” 

“huh,” y/n squatted down, inspecting a box that was on the floor, “i guess that makes sense.”

“just put what you need in a box and take it out. i’ll just say you’re helping me take it back.” changsik smiled, watching y/n nod and do so.

after a few minutes, y/n finished and announced he was ready to check out. changsik’s eyes met one of the cctv cameras before settling on y/n. 

“alright, let’s go check out.” 

as they walked toward the front, they reached the hallway that led to the exit. just as y/n was going to walk past, toward the checkout counter, a hand forcefully grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. he looked behind him, in a startled manner, thinking changsik had just forgotten something. however, a deeper fear struck when changsik’s hand moved to clench at the back of his collar. 

“don’t make a sound.”

the second the cold blade touched the skin of y/n’s neck, the surgeon knew to stay quiet. there was a burning in his throat as he struggled to swallow, scared to trigger any abrupt movement. his frantic mind jumbled about, words of scolding placed toward himself and the situation while trying to get a grip. he thought of using the in-ear to alert jongho, but it would risk exposure of the communication device: in any case… he’d be dead by then.

“what is taking him so long?” jongho grunted, tapping his foot in impatience. it’d already been about 10 minutes since y/n entered the store—it shouldn’t take that long for a surgieron to find equipment that’s of medicinal standard!

tapping his in-ear and calling out the doctor’s name, he got no response. placing his face mask on, he rushed into the store, beckoning the cashier. “have you seen a man, about 6’3” with h/c hair?”

the cashier stared at him with a shocked look, “yes, but he went back toward the restrooms. is he dangerous?”

jongho shook his head before running toward the back of the store. he shoved against the restroom door, shouting out the older’s name as he threw open each stall door. finally admitting the fact that the older had disappeared, he tapped his in-ear once more, calling out for anyone.

“jongho, what’s going on?” hongjoong had intercepted the connection, hearing jongho’s worried voice.

the bodyguard had no time to register the primal fear that would settle itself in his bones once faced with the leader, “it’s y/n, hyung. he ran away.” 

jongho returned to the headquarters after scoping out the area once more and had just entered through the front door when he was met with the sight of the whole group. 

hongjoong was staring at him with his jaw clenched and an almost empty whiskey glass settled in his lax hand. jongho had never seen a look so severe in hongjoong’s eyes—he’d never messed up this bad. and apparently, the leader wasn’t the only one emotionally affected by his mistake, because before hongjoong could even physically express his own anger, san had snatched the glass from his hand and launched it at jongho, missing his head by less than an inch.

everyone was shocked at his silent outburst, san even going as far to ignore the immense pain in his abdomen and on his shoulder, but hongjoong simply sent the younger a look, causing him to cower back in the slightest. jongho, however, was enraged at what had just happened. what gave san, who had no superiority over him, the right to do that?

“what the fuck was that?” he had stormed over to the boy, grabbing his shirt with both fists. san didn’t back down, sticking his jaw out toward the youngest.

“how could you lose y/n?”

“i was told no matter what to avoid cameras, so i stayed outside! i didn’t exactly think the fucker would have the balls to run away!” 

everyone watched the two, eyeing when to step in and pull them apart. but hongjoong let them run their mouths. the longer someone talks, the more something is revealed. what he was looking to be revealed, he didn’t know; but something would come up.

san pushed back against jongho, “y/n hyung wouldn’t run away. he’d never do that!” 

‘oh,’ hongjoong perked in interest.

the younger scoffed, “what makes you so sure?”

san’s next words came as a bit of a shock, leaving the others with silent questions, “he promised he’d come back.”

bingo!

an awkward silence filled the room as they all stared, speechless at how hopelessly fond their brother had become for their hostage. as much as some of them hated to admit it, y/n was only a hostage to them at the end of the day. and for san to fall into a reversal stockholm syndrome of sorts was nothing short of  a disappointment. however, that couldn’t be the main focus, y/n was missing and they didn’t know how strong his resolve would be in the event of torturing.

“run us back on what happened, will you?” hongjoong told jongho, trying to get a clear picture on what went down because the first thing they needed to know was why y/n was taken, much less, who took him. was it by the same person who’d been running their mouths in the streets? 

and right in the middle of his explanation, an alarm went off on yeosang’s phone; it was a message. the others kept talking, figuring yeosang could handle whatever message he’d received. 

it was when he promptly stood up that all attention had been placed on him. 

“it’s him! it’s dongwoo!”

a soft whimper sounded as y/n was thrown to the ground, hands bound and eyes blinded by some piece of cloth.

“boss,” y/n’s kidnapper spoke in a submissive wave, causing y/n to assume the guy had straightened his spine and was saluting him in some way.

a moment later, a gruff voice broke through the eerie silence in the room, “and who is this?” his voice wasn’t angered or bewildered at all, and that’s what scared y/n. he sounded intrigued; like even he wasn’t expecting to be a part of this situation.

“someone with connections to ateez— saw that bodyguard walking around with him.” 

the other man hummed, “the bodyguard didn’t follow you, did he?”

“no, no. i found them by the pharmacy; i know the area pretty well because i do the runs for sowon— i knew the camera blindspots!” his abductor seemed to be a bit on the simpler side when it came to this “boss” of his, y/n concluded. this was a completely different personality than when he was being abducted at the scene…

“good job. and you know what, changsik-ah,” his voice seemed to be getting more intrigued, y/n’s heart beating even faster in response, “since you bought in such a valuable hostage, i’ll let you have the honors of obtaining information from him.”

y/n felt the air beside him shift, changsik bowing a full 90 degrees at his boss’s blessing, “thank you!”

a sickeningly hearty laugh resonated and the creaking of a chair sounded before the boss’s next words seemed to be the final straw for y/n’s pounding heart.

“i want him alive.” 

“he better be alive,” san growled at jongho.

“we might get to him alive if you two would quit bickering. we’re wasting time because of you two, so shut it and sit down!” hongjoong had had enough of the two. he knew it was a sensitive time for san and jongho, different reasons for both, of course, but they would only get nowhere if they weren’t level-headed.

the two boys bowed their heads at their leader, san still sending a side-eyed glare at the younger before sitting down in his chair. 

it’d been two days since y/n was kidnapped and they still hadn’t been able to come up with a plan to get y/n back. 

wooyoung tried to trace where the text message came from within the first minute it was received, but surprise, surprise! it was a burner phone— so back to square one; checking all of the cctv footage in the area and trying to spot a suspect that wasn’t even visible from the first frame. 

the cameras in the pharmacy showed only y/n, the pharmacist, clerk, and four other customers. of those four, only one person never entered through the front door. and within those 48 hours, he’d managed to single out a vehicle that had arrived in the frame of one of the street cams showing the alleyway behind the pharmacy, and left the same way not even 5 minutes later. it was a suspicious vehicle too; white van, no windows in the back, and paper license plates. the paper plates hinted that they were most likely changed recently or are changed frequently.

and so after hours of having to witness his best friend be so uncharacteristically frantic and down, wooyoung, unfortunately, decided to do what he thought was smartest—save y/n himself to make his best friend happy again.

his intentions may have been well, but in stories like these, doesn’t something always go wrong?

“help me set the table guys,” seonghwa cleared his throat, hand on his hip as he stirred the soup on the stove. the steam from the boiling liquid sent another cloud to his tired face, a sheen of sweat and condensation forming.

“i really don’t understand why we are acting like we have the time to set a table and eat home cooked meals when we don’t!” san exasperated, pacing around the dining room. 

mingi gave a sympathetic smile, patting him on the back before going to help seonghwa. 

while mingi was more on the understanding side of san’s worries, jongho disagreed, “how exactly do you expect us to find him if we don’t take care of ourselves?”

“all i’m saying is food and sleep shouldn’t be this consistently on your minds when we’re all in this situation!”

jongho scoffed, finding the utmost absurdities in san’s words, “why are you acting like he’s so important? he doesn’t know anything about us or our weaknesses— for fuck’s sake, it’s not like we can’t just get another doc—”

a fist had flown toward jongho’s cheek, cutting off his words, before san’s thrashing body was being pulled back by mingi and yeosang.

“go to hell choi jongho!” san screamed, trying to force his way through the barrier the two had made with their bodies. the boy could feel his stitches tearing as he fought, but he didn’t care. jongho had been a bitch since the very first moment y/n was around, and for what reason?

“cut it out, san!” yeosang hollered, voice brute as he pushed against the boy.

“no, let me at him. he wants to keep being a little shit, i’ll show him shitty!”

“stop it! you haven’t even noticed, have you?”

san didn’t stop trying to break the barrier, focusing on getting to jongho and the other’s words, “notice what?”

“wooyoung’s missing,” yeosang began, san whipping his head toward him and trying to disagree, but yeosang was having none of it, “and you haven’t done anything but antagonize everyone here for not doing their jobs at your pace!”

“oh, excuse me for trying to be as quick as possible in finding him!”

“yeah, and who ever said quick was the efficient route to go? we’re dealing with people we know nothing about, but they seem to know a little too much about us, no? so stop getting on everyone’s asses and—”

“shut the hell up! please!” seonghwa had slammed his hands down on the table, screaming at the top of his lungs. every person in the room had immediately gone silent, words left on the tips of their tongues in a desperate attempt to fly about.

“you’re all going to shut it, sit down, and eat this meal like the civilized people we are and come up with a plan to get y/n back as safely as possible,” he gave a quick glare at everyone, blowing a puff of air at the lock of hair that had settled over his eyelids.

“am i clear?”

"yes, sir."

[luvdsc]

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

[hannigramficrecs]

Newly Added Fics 5/16

Hello everyone, sorry again for the slight hiatus! I’ve replied to all the messages in my inbox (at least the ones that were sent to me before this past friday), so if you asked me something before that, be sure to check out my replies!

As usual, I’ve emboldened the fics I really liked and italicized the ones that are incomplete.

Looks Like Love by luvkurai [words: 5,987] — (AU)

After his sister's wedding, Will kisses his childhood housekeeper (and first love).

Betrothed by slashyrogue [words: 3,932] — (AU)

In one month he would marry a total stranger.

Titan Arum by ProxyOne [words: 64,614] — (AU)

Will is a botanist, working in the greenhouse of the local Botanical Gardens. He is getting his life back on track after his divorce, but he can't help but notice someone who keeps coming back to his greenhouse to draw, day after day. A man who seems to have been paying very close attention to him...

Find Me In The Dark by Rising_Phoenix [words: 40,131] — (AU)

After a fateful accident, the marriage of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter has reached its end. Grief and the inability to stop them from falling apart has brought an irreconcilable distance between the formerly deeply devoted couple. While Hannibal is apathetic towards his husband, ignores him, and is withdrawn, Will has started an affair with fellow teacher Francis and drowns his desperation in more and more alcohol. 

Light of All Lights by whiskeyandspite [words: 20,377] — (AU)

Dracula-like fic without any of the vampires

The Stage Just For You by CarnivalMirai [words: 6,494] — (AU + Age Gap)

Will has landed himself the role of Odette for world-famous choreographer Hannibal Lecter's rendition of The Swan Lake.

There Will Be Bells by Entropyrose [words: 36,639] — (A/B/O)

In Georgian England, male omegas are very rare diamonds. Baron and Baroness Graham have a plan to build their wealth and social status by offering their son Will's hand in marriage to a mysterious older Duke, an Alpha named Lord Hannibal Lecter. Will's personal feelings need not apply.

Alpha Mart by slashyrogue [words: 63,164] — (A/B/O)

Will needs an alpha. After years of fake knots, half-assed suppressants, and his own damn hand during heats he’s reached the end of his rope. He doesn’t do dating so he decides to waste his life savings and hype with the current trend. Alpha Mart.

Enchanted By Your Name by CarnivalMirai [words: 9,207] — (A/B/O + PWP)

“Now, my husband would prefer it if I got the job done quickly.” He says, slashing down the back of each gag as he passes each man, watching as the silk falls gracefully to the floor. “However, I want to have some fun. Considering you’ve troubled my husband so much… it’s only fair, right?” One of the men whimpered fearfully. Or: The name "Will Graham" is a name you'll only ever hear once.

I've Been Building Black Ships by cloudsarefluffy [words: 8,116] — (A/B/O + AU)

Alpha Hannibal moves to the States with his sister Mischa after being overtly done with the fancy life of a count, and his blind omega neighbor gives him an insight into love that he never quite expected.

A Rare Find by hit_the_books [words: 5,379] — (A/B/O + AU)

Life as an omega bookseller can be quite lonely. However, as the owner of Graham’s Books, Will Graham is reasonably content. That is until he meets—long-time customer and crush—Doctor Hannibal Lecter in person for the first time. Attraction blossoming between them both, Will agrees to a dinner date with the good doctor.

We All Have a Hunger by 1ntothew1ld [words: 12,260] — (A/B/O + Age Gap)

Hannibal will ensure a properly slow and painful death for an alpha who allowed a beautiful young omega to go to waste as this one has. Too skinny for his own good, a stuttering and humble mess. The likes of the omega in front of him belonged at Opera houses and in million-dollar mansions, not scrounging for his next meal. Meek and afraid in some disheveled row house. When he finally looked back up the alpha had to conceal the utter punch to the stomach that meager glance was, blue eyes full of innocence but also hunger.

The Doctor Is In by Kummerspeck7 — (A/B/O + PWP)

Will nearly scoffed. "You can't expect me to believe you'd want anything other than a delicate flower to adorn your side, keep your ostentatious home, bare you the exact number of children you want--No more, no less-- all while being available at your whims." "Not at all." Hannibal disagreed. "I would no more put a wilting flower in my home than in a bouquet given as a gift. Tell me, Will, is that how you are treated? Forbidden from work, cloistered inside and used at Mr Brown's discretion?" "My Alpha's discretion." Hannibal looked pointedly at the curve of Will's neck, free from a single scar. "Not yet he isn't."

Teenage Wildlife by writtenbyizzy [words: 10,163] — (Age Gap + Sugar Daddy)

While reluctantly prowling Grindr for a sugar daddy to pay for his dog Bean's vet bills Will comes across Hannibal, and gets far more than he bargained for.

Just As Poised As I Remember by CarnivalMirai [words: 5,721] — (Age Gap + School)

When Will was in high school he had an incredibly handsome psychology teacher-- tall and sharp with a thick European accent. And now, a decade later, said psychology teacher-turned psychiatrist... just swiped right on him.

We Can Chase the Dark Together by K_R_Closson [words: 16,615] — (Fantasy)

Will tips him and Hannibal off the cliff. Instead of hitting the water, he wakes up in his bed, several years in the past. His first, and only, priority is to find Hannibal again.

We Killed a Dragon Last Night by inameitlater [words: 88,150] — (Fantasy)

Will remembers falling. He wakes up months before Jack got him to work for him. Months before he met Hannibal for the first time. Free from his past he decides to change events and meet Hannibal again.

My Only Constant Is You by TheSilverQueen [words: 25,369] — (Fantasy)

Hannibal Lecter is an immortal who can never die. Will Graham is a time traveler who can never stay in one place. Perhaps that is why they are perfect for each other.

Motinos Kalba by Lyla_Joy [words: 6,040] — (Fluff)

Five times Hannibal Lecter spoke Lithuanian on accident and one time he meant too.

You Make Me Feel (Good) by sourweather [words: 7,190] — (Fluff)

Will Graham has sensory issues. The world gets too loud, he gets overstimulated easily, but most of all he hates being touched. He never expected someone to work so hard to make him comfortable, to be so patient with him.

Pick Me Up by sourweather [words: 6,053] — (Fluff)

Will doesn't go to bars much. He doesn't end up needing a ride home much. But when he does get drunk, he always wants to ask Hannibal to pick him up.

Hard to Get by JSinister32 [words: 5,561] — (Jealousy)

Will and Hannibal had been broken up for six months. When confessions are made during a work function, can they find it within themselves to forgive?

Polar Opposites by Lyla_Joy [words: 19,513] — (Kidnapping)

“Says the cannibalistic serial killer who knocked me out and is now holding me hostage,” sassed Will. The Ripper didn’t smile but his eyes crinkled in the corner. “Please call me Hannibal.”

Fate Is A Keen-Eyed Hound by LydiaFearing [words: 5,890] — (Mischa)

Hannibal may be a successful, charming psychiatrist but Mischa worries that her brother is lonely so she gifts him a puppy. Hannibal reluctantly falls for his little dog but wants to get involved with time-consuming FBI work and not just anyone can be allowed to look after his pet. Luckily, Alana can recommend a boarding kennel in Wolf Trap.

The Significant Other: The Will and Hannibal Edition by house_of_lantis [words: 18,431] — (Murder Husbands)

After their terrible and abrupt break up, Will and Hannibal attempt to maneuver through their social circles, side step ongoing gossip, and deal with the fact that Will knows the truth of Hannibal. Through impossible odds, Will and Hannibal do find their way to each other again.

Dancing with the Beast by proser [words: 86,347] — (Murder Husbands)

In order to catch a mediocre serial killer, Will must pose as Hannibal's date for a series of pretentious social events. Hannibal is dramatic and jealous as ever, and Will is having a great time without the encephalitis. Of course, it's a love story.

Arriving at the Crossroads by HigherMagic [words: 7,558] — (Mpreg)

"You haven't been my psychiatrist for a long time," Will echoes. "But you've been my friend. You've helped me. With…" He gestures vaguely to his head. "When my brain was on fire. On consults. When it's dark and I need a guiding light." "It pleases me very greatly to be a source of comfort and reassurance for you, Will," Hannibal says. "I have wanted to be that for you, for a long time."

The Hanged Man by justhavesex [words: 13,076] — (Mpreg)

Will Graham had never wanted children before, but he had never considered it to be a consequence of his omegan brain not finding anyone worthy, but the moment he had met Hannibal Lecter he had been filled with want. In which a dinner party one-night stand results in a pregnancy that changes Will's entire life.

I Don't Even Like Lana Del Rey by perpetuallycaffeinated [words: 4,328] — (PWP)

The tension and low thrum of arousal were making Will speak impulsively. He knew this, but he’d just finished his drink. There was nothing he could use to stop the question, blunt and presumptuous and rude. “So, what, you’re my daddy?”

A Bad Combination In The Dark by perpetuallycaffeinated [words: 1,957] — (PWP)

When a nerve wracked Will Graham accidentally cuts his hand on Dr. Lecter's letter opener, things quickly get out of control.

The Best Bait by sourweather [words: 3,327] — (PWP)

Will is a good fisherman, he knows which bait to use for his catch. Will seduces Hannibal at a party by being sexy.

Whimsy by justheretoreadhannibalfics [words: 3,001] — (School)

Doctor Hannibal Lecter is standing in as a teacher while Professor Graham is out of town on a case. The students start to kind of like him, and become very invested in his love life.

Callipygian by ProxyOne [words: 2,260] — (Season 1)

Hannibal has a lot of sketches of Will, which he normally keeps safely away. One day though, Will shows up unexpectedly and Hannibal is caught unawares, and unprepared.

L'appel Du Vide by sourweather [words: 5,413] — (Season 1)

Will is hiding things from his coworkers. From himself. But Doctor Lecter knows.

Friends Don't Frame Friends: A Lesson for a Clueless Cannibal by LadyFelixTristis [words: 5,041] — (Season 1)

Ear? What ear? Will Graham doesn’t try to thwart Hannibal Lecter’s plans for him. He just does. By accident. And then on purpose.

For All My Pride, You Were the Fall of Me by nobetterlove [words: 13,212] — (Season 2)

After being released from the BSHCI, Will grabs the dogs he can't live without and leaves without a trace

Letters to God by CarnivalMirai [words: 4,698] — (Season 3+)

Will writes letters to Hannibal every day after his incarceration. But they never make it.

Blankets, Coffee Cups, and Christmas Morning by sourweather [words: 6,352] — (Season 3+)

Hannibal wants to enjoy the domesticity. The love, the closeness, the being Known. But something about his life with Will makes him want to lash out.

All These Fictionary Tales by ProxyOne [words: 18,492] — (Season 3+)

After the fall, Hannibal is presumed dead. Will has been declared dead. But Will isn't willing to believe that Hannibal would just abandon him like that 

Seduction by BloodunderMoonlight [words: 7,086] — (Season 3+)

“For fuck’s sake, Hannibal.” Will glared at him, brimming with wrath he had only seen behind Will’s gun. He had no doubt Will would draw out a knife from beneath the duvet or pillows, but clearly words were enough to make him gobsmacked—“Are you a fucking virgin or monk? If all these can’t get you to bed then I don’t know what can.” Hannibal stood gaping at Will.

Blood, Cedar and Dog Hair by sourweather [words: 3,351] — (Season 3+)

Something terrible happens while Hannibal is in prison. Something he never prepared for.

Hidden Potential by sourweather [words: 20,789] — (Soulmates)

The first time you make eye contact with your soul mate, you see a vision of their greatest accomplishment. They call it your Peak. Unfortunately for Will Graham, his soul mate's Peak is a vision of blood and horror. Fortunately for Hannibal Lecter, his soul mate's is too.

Karoliai by slashyrogue [words: 4,577] — (Sugar Daddy)

Will works at a jewelry store. He has worked there for three months and sold less than any other person there. His boss tells him to sell something by the end of the day or he may not have a job tomorrow. If there was one thing Will hated more than having to talk people into buying jewelry they didn’t need, it was trying to do it two days before Valentine’s Day.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 1 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer meets a girl he can't get enough of at the nightclub, then quickly realizes she is not supposed to be there. 

A/N: This work deals with a lot of dark themes. There will be imperfect characters, and they will make mistakes. If you are sensitive, please read each chapter's content warnings carefully and alert me if I am missing any.

This work is undergoing heavy edits. Thank you for your patience!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: NSFW, 18+ Series Content Warnings: Adults w/ Age Difference (10yr), heavy petting, drinking Word Count: 4.4k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

—————————————————  

There are many reasons to come to a nightclub. For some, it's an excuse to find someone to kill their loneliness. For others, it's a chance to escape themselves. I wasn't sure which I was more of that night. All I knew was that I was ready for something, anything to break the monotony.

The pulsing bass reverberated through the floor, and I let it take me somewhere else for a while. I let myself get lost in the crowd of other regrettable people, and I allowed my body to move on instinct, to move to the music without much thought.

It was my birthday, as evidenced by the giant sash my friends insisted on me wearing. If anyone were to ask, I had just turned 21. But, truthfully, I still had another year to go before then.

The strangest part about it was that I wasn't usually the kind of person to make a habit out of breaking the rules. At least, not anymore. But something about the last year had made me stir crazy in a way I couldn't explain.

I could've thought harder about it; I could've found a reason. But I didn't want to.

So, I said, fuck it! Everything happens for a reason, right?

The thought perfectly coincided with a pair of pensive eyes that caught my attention through the sea of people I was surrounded by. A man somehow unlike the others was leaning against the bar, seemingly alone. I thought that it was strange, considering how out of place he seemed. Surely, I thought, he must have come with someone else.

But the way he was looking at me told me that, in the very least, he probably wasn't there with a  woman. At least, I'd hoped not.

I almost went to him, but I was stopped by a familiar tapping on my shoulder. My friend was calling my attention to the suddenly relatively empty stage, and not before long she was begging me to join her on it.

I'd never been the best dancer, but I figured it was as good a way as any other to try to get a cute guy's attention. After all, that's what you do in a club, right? As I climbed up with her, I tried to spot him once more. Unfortunately, by the time I gracelessly clambered onto the stage, he'd  already moved from his previous position.

'Oh well,' I thought, 'Maybe he hadn't really been looking at me after all.'

Rather than sulking over the loss, I focused on the music again. I swayed my hips to the beat and closed my eyes. I let my hands run up and down my body the way I wished someone else's would. Not just anyone, though. Someone... different. Someone who might almost make me feel like they'd earned it.

I wondered if that strange man could still see me. I wondered if he was still looking.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when I glanced back to the bar for the fifth time in a relatively short period of time, I finally spotted him again. Once he noticed me noticing him, he quickly turned around, and I knew it was my chance.

I scrambled down off the stage, leaving my friends to enjoy themselves among the writhing bodies and blistering heat. I wanted to enjoy a different primal experience.

Strutting right up to the bar next to him, I leaned over the counter and gave a brief, respectful wave to the bartender. Despite not breaking my gaze, I felt the hairs rose on the back of my neck.

I'd caught someone's attention. I didn't look, though. Not yet.

"Gin and tonic, please," I called when the bartender finally made his way over to me. Once he turned back around to make the drink, I knew it was a good time to look over at the stranger beside me.

Unsurprisingly, he immediately pretended he wasn't looking at me.

"Are you checking me out?" I asked just loudly enough that he would undoubtedly be able to hear me over the music.

His embarrassed reaction answered the question in the affirmative, although he unconvincingly insisted, "U-uh, no. No, I'm not."

"Oh," I responded, moving closer to him to prevent someone from separating us. "That's too bad."

He furrowed his eyebrows, and a small smile broke across his face as he asked, "Is it?"

"Well... Yeah," I laughed.

The way we locked eyes was a challenge, and one he seemed to only half accept. When he looked away from my eyes, it felt less like admitting defeat and more like taking me up on the offer to check me out.

He glanced down at my chest, and I moved from my position leaning against the counter to open my chest up for a better view.

"Can you see it well enough?" I teased with a slow gesture down the sash. I couldn't tell if his face was as red as it looked or if it was just the flashing lights playing tricks on me.

The bartender returned before he answered, and I handed him my change as a tip before holding the drink with my hand over the top. I might have been young, but I wasn't trying to get drugged in a club. I tried not to read into him noticing that habit.

"Happy birthday."

His offering seemed genuine, and this time, it was my face that turned burned. I hoped he didn't notice how flustered such an innocent thing made me, but I had a feeling he did.

"How old are you now?" he followed up, and I realized that I didn't really want him to know. Not the truth, anyway. Still, something about the way his eyes scanned every motion I made just made me feel like he could tell if I was lying.

"A year older than the last."

It wasn't a lie, after all, and he seemed to think it was funny. Behind me, a person was struggling to fit into the crowd at the bar. The somewhat unwelcome result was pushing me closer to the stranger I was quickly becoming acquainted with. But thankfully, when he reached out, he did so respectfully. His grip on my arm was gentle, but enough to stabilize my obviously struggling self.

"Thanks," I said with a bit of a laugh, trying not to seem dramatically inexperienced at this scene. "I'm not used to wearing heels."

He seemed so comfortable despite the chaos. So paradoxically confident yet timid.

"What's your name?" I asked, and he was more than happy to respond.

"Dr. Spencer Reid."

Something was so charming about the way he kept his honorific, which would usually have been irritating. He didn't seem to want to brag about it. He'd just announced it like it was a deeply ingrained aspect of his identity.

"Doctor? You seem pretty young for that," I playfully noted. Not that I was bothered by the prospect of an older man. I sipped on my drink as I waited for a bit of clarification, and his eyes continued to flit back to my lips every couple of syllables.

"Well, if you're talking about a Doctor of Medicine, I'm 30, which is actually the average age a person would be when they complete their residency. But most people with MDs will call themselves doctors after they graduate, so really, I wouldn't be too young at all."

I nodded along as he spoke, wondering if this kind of information dump was common for him. It was... kind of endearing.

Before I could get a word in edgewise, he continued to clarify, "But I'm not that kind of doctor. I have three PhDs; mathematics, chemistry, and engineering. I also have a BA in psychology as well as sociology."

I waited another second to make sure he was finished, and also because I was suddenly feeling quite intimidated. His strange socialization method made sense with his PhD subjects, and the bachelor's explained why he was so observant.

Something told me he didn't need to be told he was impressive.

"What about you? What's your name?" he finally asked, and I realized I never told him my name.

"(Y/n). No honorifics, unfortunately. Not yet."

"(Y/n)," he smiled, repeating it back to me and adding, "It's a nice name."

Uncomfortable talking about myself in light of the foregoing, I opted for a different topic.

"You don't seem like this is your first time in a club."

"Yeah, it's not. I have to go to them occasionally for work. I also grew up in Vegas, so they were kind of... everywhere," he chuckled.

When he raised his glass to his lips, I noticed that the distinct lack of color to his. I didn't mention it. There were so many reasons someone would prefer water, assuming that's what it was, including the basic desire to not be hung over the next day.

"What kind of work regularly takes you to a nightclub?"

I was genuinely curious, but I wouldn't get the answer. At the same time I asked the question, I felt a very strong pressure digging into my arm and yanking me away from the bar.

"Hey there beautiful, why'd you leave the dance floor?"

I didn't even recognize the very drunk man slurring the question to me. He looked like every other generic, idiotic brute that I had encountered through the night.

"Because I don't want to fucking dance with you," I answered as matter-of-factly as I could while seeing nothing but white-hot rage. 

I could see Spencer's demeanor change, like he was about to do something. I shot him a warning glance that this was not his fight, and was pleasantly surprised that he'd respected it. I had gotten quite comfortable with this part of being out on the town.

"Come on, don't be like that," the man barked.

I pulled my arm away. Half of my drink sloshed onto the sticky floor below, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to be drinking it now, anyway.

"I said no," I said in a much louder voice, lifting my foot high enough for it to hurt when I drove the pointed heel directly into his foot. "And don't fucking touch me!"

Before I could throw what was left of my drink onto the asshole, I felt Spencer's much gentler touch. His arm wrapped around my waist as he stepped between me and the man and hurriedly guided me away from the guy and to a nearby table. As soon as I could reach it, I climbed onto a chair at the high top, rubbing my arm where it had begun to raise in welts from his nails.

"What a fucking dick!" I yelled, still fuming from the unwelcome contact.

In stark contrast, Spencer's very warm hand cupped my face, tilting it to look up at him.

"Are you alright?"

It felt like time stopped when he looked at me. Like the earth had halted in its tracks. My perception of the otherwise energetic music seemed to slow down, and the sounds of the crowd drowned away. I wasn't able to focus on anything other than the pounding of my heart and that tried to break through bone cages to find him.

'God, I must be drunk.'

"Hey, are you okay?" he repeated, and I finally snapped back to reality.

With a simple nod, I was suddenly no longer angry at the asshole who had caused the moment to happen.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "Thanks."

"Does that happen to you often?" he asked with a strange mixture of concerned and angry that honestly looked pretty damn attractive on him.

"Unfortunately. Most guys don't like being told they aren't your type. Especially if they aren't used to it."

"I wouldn't know," Spencer shrugged with a gentle laugh, "I'm pretty used to it."

A welcome bit of self-deprecating humor. He moved his hand, and I hated to admit that I'd already missed the warmth of it.

"Well, I don't know why you're used to it. I think you're pretty cute."

The statement was fueled by the alcohol, but it was still true. He wasn't joking about being used to a lack of desire. Seconds after I'd complimented him, he shifted uncomfortably. I tried not to read too far into it. I hoped it was how he would've responded to anyone. 

"Thanks..." he started, shoving his hands in his pockets as he struggled to find something to do with them now that they weren't touching me. "But I feel like an asshole now."

I raised my eyebrows and chuckled at the strange response to a compliment.

"Why?"

"I uh, I lied to you earlier."

My attention piqued, I turned my body towards him and leaned forward to hear him better.

"Oh? To which question?"

He released a hand from his pocket, running it through his hair as he worked up the courage to look at me while he spoke.

"The... first one you asked."

I couldn't help but laugh. All of the air in my lungs was quickly drained by his absolutely endearing honesty. The way he just had to admit that he had been checking me out, as if I didn't already know.

"You are absolutely adorable, Spencer Reid."

He reacted much better to that compliment, although he seemed confused when I held my hand out for his.

"Come here," I instructed.

When he didn't listen, I reached my fingers out to grab his forearm and proceeded to tug him towards me. He took the few steps forward, and I took a moment to appreciate that his height granted me perfect access to his face from the high top.

I bit down on my lip as I glanced between beautiful eyes and his lips that parted softly. I heard his breath come faster the closer I came.

Without moving away, he asked, "What are you doing?"

While wondering if it was possible for him to do anything without being charming, I tightened my grip on his arm and looked up at him with the most lustful look I could muster.

"Well, I guess I'm going to kiss you. I hope that's alright."

"Why?" he asked.

An equally charming and maddening response, to which I just gave a small shrug. His eyes glanced back and forth, clearing trying to read between the lines of my own gaze. I let him. He didn't seem to have any follow up questions or reservations, so I used my free hand to pull his face to mine.

When our lips met, I was transported back to the dance floor in my mind. I could feel the vibrations shaking every inch of the club, but it was nothing compared to the butterflies erupting in my stomach. His hands returned to my face shortly after, and when his tongue slipped into my mouth it was the only confirmation that I got that he had also been drinking.

The taste of vodka and gin mixed, creating a cocktail of alcohol and hormones between us. A small moan escaped my lips at the thought, and part of me hoped he could feel it distinct from the bass. I wanted him to know the effect he had on me. Because, as it turned out, he wasn't just cute and smart, he was an incredibly talented kisser.

Not wanting to stop yet, I hooked a leg around the back of his knee and increased my hold on him. He lowered a hand to grab onto my thigh, and I gasped at the contact. I wondered if this was his first time making out in a club, because it was certainly mine.

Selfishly, I hoped I could be a first of something for him. Realistically, I knew it was unlikely. He was just too damn good at this.

Spencer began to retreat from the kiss, and before he could leave entirely, I bit down on his lower lip. The last, lingering contact seemed to have its desired effect, as he looked down at me like there was nothing else that he wanted more in this world than to keep kissing me.

"Was that a good enough reason?" I asked.

Instead of using words, he just kissed me again in response, with more pressure and less reserved. It was an answer I was more than happy to accept. His grip on my leg tightened, and it was nothing like the way other men grabbed me. When we broke apart this time, I knew it was time. I had to make my move.

"Come outside with me," I begged. 

He seemed not to have expected any invitation, especially such a vague one. Nonetheless, he nodded and stepped back enough to let me hop out of the chair. His hand in mine, I led him through the crowd. He never let go. Not even when we got outside.

The air felt cool and crisp in comparison to the stuffy club. My ears were still ringing, and I wondered if we would sound the same to each other now that we weren't practically screaming. I let out a laugh from pure nerves, excited to be alone with him, but also not really ready to have this conversation.

Of course, he thought I was cute, but I was still a stranger. What if he wasn't actually all that interested and decided to ditch me? That would be embarrassing.

"Heeeeyyy! (Y/n)! How's it going?!" A familiar voice sounded from over by the smokers.

It wasn't one of my friends, per se. More like a friend of a friend. A very drunk and very excited acquaintance. I finally let go of Spencer's hand but glanced back to let him know to follow me over.

I stayed at a  modest distance as I called back, "Hey, how's it going, John?"

"Goin' pretty fucking great," he slurred, and I laughed at how hammered he had managed to get in a couple of hours.

"Sounds like it."

"So, how's 20 treating you so far?"

Now, this is the point where I have to admit to myself and everyone else, that I am not the cleverest person. Because the question seemed so normal, and I was expecting it so much, that I seemed to have forgotten that I was not, in fact, old enough to be at this club.

So, without thinking, I responded, "Pretty fucking great."

To Spencer's credit, he didn't say anything, but I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull. It took me another second to realize what I had just admitted.

Fuck.

I was too scared to turn around. He seemed to know that I wasn't going to address it, and he wasn't the kind of person to make a scene. So when his hand grabbed mine again, and I felt the insistence in his grasp, I knew that I was utterly and completely fucked.

I grimaced to John, who just burst out laughing before yelling, "Oooh, jailbait got busted!"

My head fell backwards as I groaned, letting Spencer begin to drag me away from the crowd as I shouted back, "I'm not jailbait, you dick!"

Following the boy I actually wanted to be with, I tried not to give up hope yet. In a twisted sort of way, I was actually somehow looking forward to the lecture I was definitely about to receive. Seconds after we'd turned the corner into the small alley, he had me backed against a wall.

"What the fuck was that?!" his voice was hushed, although he was clearly still yelling.

I bit down on my lip to stop myself from laughing at his attempts to be scary when his voice was still cracking. I raised my shoulders to shrug, but he continued his ranting.

"You're only twenty?! You can't be here!"

"Well, actually, we're in an alley, which I'm totally allowed to be in."

He did not appreciate my humor.

"You know exactly what I mean. You're not old enough to be at a club, and especially not drinking! What were you thinking?"

He looked so delectable when he was angry, I wasn't sure how he'd expected me to take him seriously. Resting my head against the brick wall behind me, I looked up at him with a bored expression.

"What are you, a cop?"

I honestly wasn't anticipating a genuine response, so when he responded, "An FBI special agent, actually," all I could think was, "Oh shit, really?"

"Yeah, really, (y/n)!" he yelled back, taking a step back when my arms immediately fell from their defensive position.

"That's so cool!" I answered with equal enthusiasm, which he still, clearly, did not like.

"What are you saying? That is not cool! None of this is cool!"

"I mean, I think it's pretty cool."

"I could have you arrested! I should have you arrested!"

The way I raised my eyebrows and smiled was clearly not the reaction he wanted, but I could tell he was intrigued by it. He paused, and I licked my lips with a wicked grin.

"You gonna cuff me, Special Agent?"

I saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and he continued to distance himself from me. I took a step forward to maintain the gap.

"Wait, is it Special Agent or Doctor? I need to know now."

Before I could get too close to him, he had pressed his hand against my shoulder, pushing me back against the wall. 

"Cut it out! Stop trying to distract me," his voice was stern, but his breath was ragged. One of my hands devilishly snuck up, wrapping around his arm that was holding me against the wall. "It's not going to work," he warned.

I didn't believe him. I could also tell that, despite the words, he did not want me to stop.

"How am I distracting you, Special Agent Dr. Reid?"

He could tell what I was doing, but he couldn't stop himself from falling for it.

"Is my proximity distracting you?"

I was pushing his buttons, very purposefully and with a very specific goal. I wanted to see what happened when he broke.

"N-No, that's not—"

I cut him off once more, leaning forward against his hand, dragging my nails against the skin of his arm.

"Do you want to kiss me again?" I asked.

He had to think about the answer, and that angry, tempted face left me burning. I rubbed my legs together in anticipation, and he seemed to notice the subtle movement. With the strength I could muster, I inched his hand against my shoulder lower, letting him feel my heart racing above my breast.

"You do," I responded to my own question, recognizing his silence as assent.

I met his eyes in another challenge, knowing this time would be much easier than the last. He was already hooked.

"Well then, Dr. Reid. You have at least two options. You can either dig out your work issued handcuffs, haul me downtown and explain what exactly happened between you and a drunk twenty year old girl at the club..." the pressure on my chest lessened as he obviously considered what it would require of him. "You can help them with all of the paperwork, prematurely ending the night, leaving me in a jail, and go home alone... "

The compassion in his eyes was clear, and I knew it was a bit unfair of me to go for such low hanging fruit. He was a good man. He was just trying to follow the rules. He didn't want to hurt me. Unless I asked for it, perhaps.

"Or you can get into an Uber with me to go somewhere else, and I'll let you do whatever you want with mine. Or yours. I'm fine with either."

"My pair, or my place?" he asked, much to my surprise and excitement. I could feel the rush of blood in my ears, but I begged it to be quiet. I hadn't closed the deal yet.

"So you're considering it?"

He finally released his hold on me, but he didn't move away. In fact, he moved closer. Close enough to me that I could almost feel the body warmth radiating from him. I couldn't look down yet, but I was pretty sure what I'd find bulging between his legs.

"I-I... I don't know."

An honest answer, albeit disappointing. My puppy eyes demanded a clearer one. He obeyed their call.

"I'm a law enforcement agent that just caught you in a crime, since I'm assuming you got into that club with a relatively convincing fake ID that I'm certain you still have on you."

I nodded, still unsure where he was going with this monologue.

"I should be arresting you, or at least taking you somewhere safe, not... coming back with you for..."

He trailed off, and I smirked a bit at his inability to finish that thought.

"And yeah, I figured you were young but... I'm ten years older than you."

"And?" I finally asked, wanting him to get to the point that I had figured out, just so I could turn it down.

Spencer took a deep breath before admitting, "I don't want to take advantage of you. I get that there is no sudden change in your brain when you turn twenty one, but the younger you are, the less developed your prefrontal cortex is. Your judgment, your impulse control, the ability to truly anticipate the consequences of your actions, that won't be fully developed for at least another five years!"

He would have kept going, but I had already planned for this response. My hand on his arm jerked him forward, pulling his crotch directly into my other waiting hand. Completely on brand for him, a small yelp sounded as I gently palmed his erection.

With an innocent smile, I whispered, "Dr. Reid, I don't think you're the one taking advantage here."

His features were contorted into an infuriated, yet pleased mess. After another very brief moment of contemplation, he gave into the temptation I was dangling in front of him, laying a deep, frustrated kiss on my waiting mouth.

When we separated, he practically panted into my mouth, "Do you have a hotel room?"

Giggling, I nodded.

"I guess I'll call that Uber now."

————————————————— 

| Part 2 |

[internalsealpanic]

Camp Crystal What?

summary: Camp Crystal Lake is a fine and dandy place to spend your summer, said no one ever. You are inclined to agree with that and so are Damian and Jon. 

a/n: I am back from retirement with a REEEEEEAAAAALLLLY long crack fic. (This is long as shit by my standards. Leave me alone.) This  was co written and edited by my wife @littleredwing89. She was also the biggest enabler for this. I tried to give reader some executive dysfuction but I don’t think it worked out well. We’ll see. This is my first super sons fic please feel free to roast it. 

warnings: This really self indulgent and really long. You would think I would have more gore in a slasher film based fic. No. Apparently not. 

masterlist

Jon cackles, his chin lifting only slightly from its perch on your shoulder just enough for you to fully hear the petty sound. You tilt your switch, sticking out your tongue in a vain attempt to avoid Damian’s blue shell. You cry out, throwing your arms up in exasperation as the shell hits you just as you were about to cross the finish line. Your outstretched prosthetic arm nearly hitting Jon in the process, not that you felt too bad about that considering…

 “Yeah! Got ‘em, Dami!” Jon says, high fiving a smug-looking Damian beside you.  You glare at Jon, who was still leaning against you like you weren’t about to bite his head off. “Whose side are you on?”

 “Justice!” This draws a snort out of both Tim and Jason who were both sitting in the back. 

 “No, you’re not!”

 “Yes, I am!”

 “He is, (l/n). You needed to be cut down to size," Damian declares, subtly brandishing his screen showing Rozalina doing a little victory lap in her kart as her little star guy floated around her. You pout at him, puffing your cheeks like an unruly chipmunk as you cross your arms over your chest. This only serves to make Damian all the smugger and Jon all the more gleeful at your loss. 

 You turn the full force of your ire on Jon who was smiling innocently at you, big blue eyes sparkling reminding you of your husky, Yoohoo. You’re about to say something scathing but stop instead deciding to stew in your loss and sulk as you hand Jon your Switch. You’d think he would be more prepared since he was the one who insisted on coming with you to this camp. Now that you think about it, why were they here? All you remember is telling Jon that you couldn’t go visit him over the summer because your parents were sticking you in a summer camp while they go abroad for something and the next thing you know is that you’re in an SUV with Jon, Damian, Damian’s older brother’s, and their friend(?). Whatever she was to them Damiam never adequately explained like everything else. Though you suspect she was Dick’s wife judging from how little they cared whether the other invaded their space. The lack of a wedding ring made you unsure. 

 You let out a little huff, melting into your oversized Gotham U hoodie, letting Jon lean on you despite your sour mood and touch aversion. You lean against him in return and watch as Yoshi zips past Rosalina in mild petty satisfaction. 

You all file out of the car, drowsy and irritable. You muss Jon’s bed head into an even more tangled mess. Neither of you tells Damian about the streak of drool on his face. Tim shuffles the three of you towards the convenience store while Jason politely explains to the mechanic that he’s wrong, Dick orders lunch at the diner and makes a call back to Gotham presumably to make sure Wayne industries isn’t burning down. 

Over your shoulder, you can see Jason’s form working hard not to look threatening. It’s not working or maybe the mechanic was shaking because Faust isn’t even trying to hide the irritation wicking off of her. 

 “He wha-” Tim pinches the bridge of his nose muttering something about Mr.Wayne. He looks pained. Tim hands you a wad of one-dollar bills as his voice takes Timothy Wayne's public speaker pitch. All of the Wayne’s seem to have three voices. Their Wayne voice, their vigilante voice, and their normal voice. Mr. Wayne has the most distinct voice. Dick’s was honestly really hard to distinguish.  

 You count the wad of cash in your hand as Jon grabs a basket from the pile. You note, with amusement, that at least five of the bills had variations of ‘don’t buy cereal’ written on them in distinct handwriting. 

 “Kent, are you planning to put the entire store in the basket?”

 “Nah, just the good stuff.”

 You marvel at the amount of food Jon managed stockpile in your basket while you were distracted. 

 “Uh, Jon, we don’t need that much.” Plus, I don’t think we can eat all of that. 

 “They’re right,” Damian chides, making Jon pout. 

 After a healthy amount of debate, two almost food fights, a near fistfight, and your attempt at puppy dog eyes, you finally narrow the snacks down and even have enough money left for slushies. You shrug at her, adding more blue than necessary. There weren’t rules against this. Plus, it was tastier this way. 

 “Dami,  what flavor do you want?” Jon shouts from the slushie machine.  Beside him, you swirl a mix of red, green, pink, and blue slushies. The lady at the counter was wrinkling her nose at you the way Dami is wrinkling his nose at Jon.

 Jon’s big cup of neon blue smoothie dropped to the floor in a loud clatter. 

 “You’re all doomed! He’s coming. He’s coming! That place is cursed!” The scraggly man screams as he shakes Jon. Damian’s lip tries not to curl in amusement as you both watch the scene unfold. Out of context, this was horrifying. In context, it was hilarious especially considering how badly Jon is acting. The clerk at the counter looks appropriately horrified. You look at Jon, feeling a twinge of worry. He’s not in danger. You know that but you can’t help it.

 Your concoction flies into the man’s face in no time flat and Jon scrambles to your side as soon as the man drops him. You step in front of him bracing for further confrontation but the man simply walks off muttering about something you couldn’t hear over the beating of your heart. 

“Exactly, why am I in the back?” Jason whines, unfolding and refolding himself, not quite sure where to place what limb in the cramped back row of the SUV. You let out a giggle which earns you a rather harsh glare from an already irate Jason. Damian glares back at him for you, in an oddly protective gesture, and you can’t help but feel strangely smug about it. 

 They glower at each other for a few minutes. Jason, probably knowing this was a stalemate, turns his attention towards the front of the vehicle, sharp green eyes narrowing at the rearview mirror. “Shouldn’t Faust’s short ass be in the back with Timbo and the Three Tiny Terrors?” 

 You hear an amused huff from the front along with the loud crinkling and shuffling of the map. Faust glances over her shoulder, the bright mischief in her eyes contrasting with the rich brown of her skin. You wonder if everyone in Damian and Jon’s lives were all this pretty. An almost smile quirks on the edges of her lips as she says “You didn’t call shotgun~”

 Jason hisses something colorful behind you. Tim, beside him, is chuckling either from Jason’s misery or, based on the defeated cry coming from Jon, having just nailed Yoshi with lightning. Could be both. It was likely. 

 Jason, looking positively annoyed, unfolds himself and violently settles his feet on Tim’s lap. Tim yelps then says something close to a swear word. Jason grins lazily looking more like a cat as he leans back. This time Jon cries out in joy, the victory music blaring from your switch. Again, Tim hisses something edging towards a curse word. Jon wriggles out of his seat and fist bumps Jason who returns the gesture enthusiastically. In the reflection on the windshield, you can clearly see the amusement in Dick’s smile. Even to your right, Damian seems amused if not outright gleeful at seeing Tim’s misery.  You couldn’t quite tell. You weren’t a master of reading Waynes yet. You would turn to Jon but he wasn't fluent either. Faust told you that it would take a while which just meant that you would never master it. Reading people was hard enough as it was. There was always something difficult about interpreting social signals. It was so easy to get them wrong and when you add in the complication of being a vigilante you just found yourself frustrated. You slump into the seat feeling the frustration writhing under your skin. Jon noticing your frustration eases up and gives you a little more space. 

 "So, what's with the map?" Tim asks, throwing Jason's feet back at him and handing you his switch. Faust wrinkles her nose at the offending piece of paper. "Well, Dicktopus here insisted on the authentic road trip atmosphere complete with bad cell signal, a map, and oh right, getting lost." Dick gives her a look which Faust just shrugs it off. 

 "Like what? The Goofy movie?" Tim asks incredulously, his brows wrinkling in the rearview mirror as he gives Dick a withering look. 

 Faust snorts in confirmation. Jon’s face crumples in confusion. You make a small hiccupping noise mimicking the noise that passes for Goofy's laugh and you see as the bleary memory clicks into place. "You mean the old movie we watched last night?"

 "It's old but gold," Dick defends fervently, earning him an indulgent smile from Faust and a withering look from Damian. Damian shrinks into his seat unwilling to expend too much effort defending his mentor's taste in movies despite him enjoying the movie. You did too but you wanted to see how this would play out. Behind you, Jason shifts, a shark-like grin plastered across his face. " Just because that's the movie you modeled your life after, Big Bird, doesn't mean it's good."

 Dick makes this affronted noise that makes him sound a little like he's squawking. "It's a good movie and you know it!" Dick says earnestly, scowling at a still cocky Jason through the reflection in the windshield. You see Damian, Jason, Faust, and Tim's eyes meet in the rearview mirror, all shining conspiratorially. You and Jon give each other a look, each looking like you're bracing for disaster. 

 "Dunno, Dick, I think the second one was soooo much better," Tim pipes up finally. It sounds like the spark lighting a trail of gunpowder towards a powder keg. 

 "I have to agree with Drake," Damian says honestly sounding pained. 

 Faust rewards him with a conspiratorial smile which makes Damian ease a little. The gesture from what you understood roughly translated to 'it was for the greater good.' "So much for your taste in movies, Dickens," Faust teases, poking a finger at Dick’s shoulder. 

 "You're one to talk!" Dick says, rolling his eyes childishly. 

 Faust twists her body to look at all 5 of you, winking at you and Jon as if she was about to perform a magic trick, which wasn't off the table since she could actually pull weapons from her tattooed skin. "You guys loved Lake Placid, right?" 

 Playing along, you each gave varying sounds of agreement til Dick finally threw his hands up in exasperation. "HEATHENS!" Faust looks pleased as punch at this reaction. You giggle as Dick groans into the steering wheel as you slow to a stop in front of a cross-section. 

 "Traitors all of you," Dick says, resting his arm on the back of his seat and giving all of you a halfhearted scowl. He kind of looked like Yoohoo when you refused to give him treats. 

 You all bask in Dick’s misery. You even catch Jon giggling at Dick’s frown despite himself. The rest were completely unrepentant. They don't even bother to hide the self-satisfied smiles on their faces, least of all Damian who vehemently protested to being subjected to such drivel. This is, of course, ignoring the fact that he had watched the movie with the same rapt attention as you and Jon. You all enjoyed the movie just as much as Dick did but it was much funnier to gang up on him. 

 Dick continues to argue his point as all of you offer, frankly, bogus arguments that you say with as much conviction as Dick levels against you. The banter continues in a rather jaunty rhythm until a fallen tree forces the car into a rather abrupt stop. 

 "Shit!" Jason hisses at full volume as his knees hit the back of Damian’s seat which draws out a soft 'oof' from Damian which quickly reshapes into a snarl. Tim and Damian give Jason a look of mock sympathy. Jason raises his middle finger in a vaguely familiar gesture. 

 "Jason!" Dick says, cutting off your train of thought much to your frustration. You contemplate hissing some colorful words yourself. 

 Jason grunts, probably rubbing his shins. "They've heard, said, and done worse." You hear Jon protest beside you but it's quickly cut off by a 'not you' from somewhere. 

 Then it hits you. "Oh yeah! Dami did that hand thingy when he drop-kicked someone during lunch," you admit conversationally. 

 "Dami!" 

 Damian gives you an absolutely betrayed look. You shrug at him not entirely sure what was wrong. You shrink a little and Damian pulls back a little but still glares. 

 "Didn't you hear him say the F-word?" Jon adds. You blink at him, running through your memory like a film reel and turning up nothing. "Some of us don't have super hearing," you supply with no real anger behind it. 

 "Ope, sorry, (y/n)." You shrug at him congenially as he smiles sheepishly at you. No harm no foul. 

 "Kent!"

 "Oh- Uh, sorry, Dami." 

 Damian doesn't look appeased at all by this. 

 “Ok, so we’re just gonna skip over the fact that he drop-kicked someone?” Tim asks, raising a brow and you find yourself thinking, “Well, yeah. He’s Robin. That’s kinda his thing.”

 Jason snorts beside him, seemingly less irritable now that Dick’s attention was directed elsewhere. “He didn’t get caught soooo..”

 “Jason!”

 “Jason, we’re not supposed to be obvious about being terrible influences.” Faust jokes, now redirecting Dick’s ire to her. You can’t tell if that was intentional or not but either way she seems to be enjoying how Dick’s expression makes him look like a carp gasping for air.

 “Why did you tell them?” Damian hisses, albeit softer than he normally does. You frown at him confused. You thought it was spectacular and you really don’t know what was wrong. You really wish they’d explain it. Maybe you should speak up but would that be rude? You stare at Damian trying your hardest to convey your confusion but you’re having trouble shaping your face into the correct one. You try to keep in mind the face Jon makes when Damian tried to explain quantum physics to both of you. 

 Turning away from her argument with Dick, Faust looks at you pityingly before speaking and putting her hand up to Dick’s face lightly pushing him back. “Relax, Baby Vamp, I would’ve gotten it out of them sooner or later,” Faust says, looking at you with the same stern look Mr. Pennyworth gives you when you try to steal cookies. It kind of reminds you of the Penance Stare from Ghost Riders but with less flaming skulls and more implied disappointment. 

 “Tim was the one who ate the last few pieces of the brownies Mr. Pennyworth made for Jason.” The words flow out of you like water from a cataract. Faust waves her hand theatrically as if she had just demonstrated a magic trick. Again, you’re pretty sure this was one. You wince fully expecting Tim to have the same caustic reaction as Damian. But when you turn to look at him to apologize, Tim already had his hands up in front of him defensively. On the other side, not far enough away for Tim’s liking, Jason looks livid, steam coming out of his ears. 

 “Those were mine, asshole!”

 “You eat them every time you’re at the Manor!”

 “When I’m at the Manor! Which is what? Once every three months?”

 “Two,” Tim deadpans, holding up two fingers. 

 That was the wrong thing to say, you realize. From the way they’re staring at each other, you’re a little afraid they’d come to blows as Jason surges forward. 

 “Tim, Jay, I will turn this car around if you two don’t stop.”

 “Please, continue.” Dick shoots Damian a ‘you are not helping’ glare but Damian simply answers with a warning one. They all look ready for a brawl and all you want to do is curl up into your oversized hoodie. You play with the frayed edges of your hoodie hoping you’re radiating your discomfort.

 And like an angel of mercy, Faust clears her throat. “(Y/n), Jon, help me clear the road.” The statement leaves no room for argument and you and Jon breathe a collective sigh of relief. 

Jon lifts the tree with ease. It was an oddly healthy tree, freshly cut. Something about it made your stomach turn. “Jon could have done it alone. Why bring me?” You ask, distracting yourself from the strange feeling by fiddling with the joints of your metal hand which only made you more conscious of how pointless it was to bring you along. Faust glances towards the car. The boys are still bickering. She then glances down at you with a wry smile. “Waynes bickering is really funny from a distance.” Your eyes glance at the light scar on her running down her clavicle, disappearing into the line of her shirt.  You doubt it’s from any of them. You really doubt it. The Wayne kids were chaotic, especially the girls, but they’re never- Well, they can be hurtful but not that way. Not that you’ve seen anyway.   You shake your head and glance at the car and watch them argue. Their gestures are animated and loud enough that you could almost hear the bickering going on. This liveliness settles your stomach. 

 You spend a few minutes out there waiting for them to settle down. It was long enough for you and Jon to start debating the existence of Gummy Bear shaped aliens and for Faust to weigh in with her humble opinion. Dick honks at the three of you to tell you it was, relatively, safe to come back. Tim, Damian, and Jason were all sulking in their respective corners while Dick gives you and Jon an apologetic look. Jon simply shrugs as if to say it was normal for brothers to argue but you found it hard to picture Conner ever being that mean to Jon or vice versa for that matter. Faust rolls her eyes at the sulking birds, a fond smile quirking on her lips.  Dick gives her a look that was usually followed by the words ‘I miss not being the adult’ which she graciously answers with a smile that plainly says ‘me too.’

 In the corner of your eye, you see something- a shadow- move in the woods as you drive off, Dick’s story about space aliens falling away into the background. You turn to Jon who looks at you confused and a little concerned. It was clear he didn’t see it, whatever it was. You turn to Damian but see he’s still stewing. You blin and the shadow is gone. A sticky feeling of dread settles in your stomach. 

 There's pressure in the car. 

The camp is, well, loud. 

 Louder than you were expecting and full of rowdier children than promised. You wince slightly, ears ringing. You and Damian sigh already knowing that you were both going to be absolutely exhausted by the end of this. You turn to Jon, shoulder slumping, only to find him beaming as he watched the other kids run around. There were alot of days you envied Jon and this was one of them. Damian looks at Jon with utter disbelief. You shrug at him as he wrinkles his nose at both Jon and the hooligans running around. Your lip quirks into a scraggly smile fully understanding.

 “This is going to be repulsive,” Damian hisses.  

 “Lighten up, Dami.”

 “Nah, he’s gotta practice being dark and brooding, so when he gets to be the big bad bat he can do the whole brooding thing all-natural,” you joke, using your finger to mimic the ears of Batman’s cowl. 

 “Please, say that louder. I don’t think the supervillains heard you,” says Damian sarcastically, nose upturned.  

 Jon grins at you in a challenge. You raise a brow, crossing your arms. Your brain cell takes a vacation. 

 “HE’S GOTTA-” Damian clamps a hand on your mouth. You glare at him. His eye flicks to Jon who is sucking in a breath. Damian is throwing his other hand over Jon’s mouth when one of the counselors waves you over. All three of you blanch at the color of the shirt. 

 You all stand in an odd misshapen circle. Damian looks incredulously at the tacky camp T-shirt he’s been forced into while Jon does not contain his laughter. You joke about how a bowtie would definitely class it up which earns you a rude gesture that just makes you laugh harder. 

 “Alright kiddos, it’s time to introduce ourselves!”

 Damian froze under the weight of their collective gazes, the hint of a smile on his face fading. Sometimes being around you and Jon made him forget. Well, not really forget. It was just easier not to think about it when you two were around. Damian feels himself shifting, realigning himself to 5’ 2” of cold arrogance.

 It should have scared you just how easily the warm fondness on his face smoothed out giving way to this cold calculating face. It did on some level; on some level, the efficiency of Damian’s face muscles scared you. Sometimes you had to wonder if it was just him or if his brothers had the same knee-jerk reaction. 

 You roll your eyes as if nothing worrying had happened and bump your shoulder against his. A smile twitches on his lip and the ramrod shape of his spine curves a bit.  Jon snickers, not trying too hard to hide it, which earns him the full force of Damian’s ire but you and Jon know all too well that Damian’s just being prickly.  You step forward, shoulders broadening, nudging a glaring Damian behind you redirecting everyone’s stares towards you. It’s uncomfortable but you don’t mind. Damian huff behind you but doesn’t protest any more than that. You smile amicably or as amicably as you can. You need to remember the correct shape.  

Introductions go off without a hitch. 

 Jon, like always, has no trouble stirring the crowd. 

  You make an impression when your introduction careens into a tangent about angelfish.

 Behind you, Damian scoffs and  crosses his arms over his chest. Contrary to popular belief, Damian did have a tendency to be nervous, especially around new people. This is compounded by the fact that Damian wasn’t really versed in dealing with people his own age which just put him on edge. 

 Thankfully, all three of you get sorted into the same cabin. The cabin is chaotic in a familiar, childish sort of way with pillows flying everywhere and kids jumping up and down their bed. Jon immediately jumps into the fray. Damian follows soon after Jon hits him with a pillow square in the face. 

 “Woman up and face me, Kent!”

 You look up to the sky and smile in amusement.  This is going to be an interesting summer.

The room is solid. 

 Your eyes incandescent in the darkness. The air crackles in anticipation of the storm.  

 A silver streak of lightning tears down through the heavens and crashes down into the lake. 

 A strange dislocation in the universe has emerged.

 Your eyes shut. 

 Your ears pop. 

 You do not hear as something mangled rises from the water. 

You wanted to say this was a horrible idea. Though, you’re not sure how to phrase that without implying they’re idiots. You’ve been hanging out with Damian too much. He’s starting to rub off on you and you’re mildly concerned. 

 You’d told them that the whole fight was your fault. Ok, not entirely. You simply told the kid off when he was making fun of Jon and you were not gonna stand for that. The kid shoved you, Damian 'accidentally' broke his nose, and the next thing you know is that you’ve been shoved into a random group of campers.It’s been a week but you still weren’t familiar with a lot of the people in the camp. The man with kind eyes said this would be good for you.  You really would have preferred staying at the campgrounds, cleaning and doing whatever with the people in your cabin. 

 “Alright, kiddos, you guys can go swim while me and Jos go check something out in the woods.”

 “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t!”

 You sniff and bite your tongue, playing with the hem of your shirt. 

 "You sure they're gonna be ok?"

 "What you think they're gonna disappear like Cat?"

 Your ears perk up at this. 

 "Well, I mean-"

 "She probably just ran off with one of the town boys." 

 This was probably the best time to bring up child endangerment protocols or the fact that you’re not even dressed for swimming. By the time you string the correct combination of words,  they’re gone. You sigh and huddle yourself into a tree. It’s not like you’re dressed to swim anyway even if you wanted to. 

 You hug your knees as you flatten yourself against the tree, making sure your prosthetic limb is tucked beneath your normal one. You watch the others as they horse around looking like they’re really enjoying themselves. They probably didn’t realize you were there or did they even notice you join the group. Doesn’t matter really. Right now you would prefer to sit under the tree than risking your arm. Mr. Fox had explained that since it was still a prototype it was delicate. 

 “HEY!”

 You jump. Your skin feeling very confined. You turn to the voice. Jesse, you think. 

 “Sorry. Could you- can you say that again?”

 She rolls her eyes at you and you suddenly doubt the politeness of your speech but no you were pretty sure that was the correct way to say it. 

 “I said ‘can your arm go in the water?’.”

 Oh.

 “No?” You were half sure it couldn’t. You haven’t really tested it since it was easier to bathe without it. She gives you a skeptical look and yanks your arm towards her. You yelp. “Hey! What are you-” Your throat tightens when you find yourself at the dock. It’s shaky. The slightest shifting made it move. 

 You turn your heel mumbling an apology but your arm is yanked back. The grip is stronger now. You look back and see two people holding on to it. “Let go!” you say, trying to wrench yourself free. “It’s- it’s not a toy,” you add but they don’t budge.

 “You’re being a baby!”

 “C’mon (y/n)!”

 “Let’s see how well robots can swim!”

 You scream as they throw you into the water. 

 You thrash your limbs around, grasping for something, anything but all you can feel is the viscous emptiness deforming and reforming with every splash. 

 You cry out. 

 The water muffles your screams along with the distant sound of laughter and heckling. 

 Your mouth is filling with water.

 Your lungs. Your lungs are burning. 

 Your chest aches. 

 You can’t breathe. 

 Help!

 Help!

 Please!

 Someone!

 It hurts. 

 Your vision is pulsing. The edges are going dark. 

 Your limbs are going numb and falling to pieces. 

 The world is sinking. 

It’s so dark. 

 It’s too cold. 

 Why are you alone?

 Where are they?

 You don’t want to die like this. 

 .

.

.

.

.

.

You feel a large hand fish you out by the scruff of your shirt. It tosses you onto the shore; the force as you hit the ground knocks the air (water?) out of your lungs. You heave, gasping like a fish. A large silhouette hangs over you, cold dread licks up your spine but you note a lack of panic. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen. 

 Your vision comes back in pieces and by the time the world puzzles back together, you’re alone. You’re alone and shivering like a wet rat. You look around, brushing wet hair out of your eyes and you realize you’re not entirely sure of the way back. You curl in on yourself. It does nothing to warm you but you were desperate to feel whole and safe and ok. 

 You aren’t entirely sure how long it is before Jon and Damian find you or just how they managed it but you’re thankful when someone drapes a heavy towel over your head, muffling the scattered sounds around you. Shakily, you pull the towel over your face. It hides the tears well enough. Your loose hanging limbs tighten around you. You want to shrink, small enough to smooth over the trembling in your body. You know they’ve saved people from drowning before. They’ve saved people from far worse. Heck, they’ve been through far worse. You desperately don’t want them to think of you as weak, as less but here you were trembling. You’re unable to steady your own breathing. Frustration rises in the back of your throat. It is a welcome change from the nonstop medley of panic that’s been shoved on you. 

 A hand settles itself on your head, the movement stiff, light, and controlled. The pressure increases a touch when you don’t protest. Damian radiates awkwardness as he attempts to ruffle your still-damp hair. You smile up at him through damp hair. Damian simply grunts as he continues to avoid eye contact by staring out at the empty lake. 

 Jon plops down next to you kicking his feet out in front of him. He gives your space but he’s just close enough for you to lean against if you wanted to. On his shoulder was your ratty oversized hoodie. You tug at his sleeve to ask for it. He hands it to you. You slip it on, not caring that you were still soggy. The familiar, loose weight of fabric against your skin made you feel whole and safe and marginally ok. 

 Jon presses a hand onto your back mimicking the experimental way Damian had patted your damp hair. He listens to the steadying rhythm of your heart, his own easing back into a calmer rhythm. Damian raises a brow at him and he gives him a thumbs up. Damian’s shoulders loosen and Jon can’t help the snort that comes out of him. You look at him startled and Damian gives him the ol’ Damian glare which makes him laugh out loud. Your eyes flicker to Damian and then roll your eyes, crow's feet wrinkling in the corners of your eyes. You twist your mouth into a weird squiggly line in an attempt to smother a laugh in fear of incurring Damian’s wrath. Jon highly doubts you’d be able to. Damian was, in fact, a big old softie. Sure, he acts grumpy all the time but spending so much time with both Dick and Faust has made him pretty mushy by bat standards but Jon wouldn’t dare say that out loud, at least, not when Damian looked this close to throwing him into the water. 

 You spend a long time soaking up the quiet before heading back. Jon slings an arm around you but pulls it back when he hears your heart stutter. You pinch and tug at his sleeve and mumble an apology.  You see Damian shoot Jon his version of the Pennyworth look. 

 “Sorry, (y/n).”

 “‘S ok,” you rasp quietly. 

 You three walk along the shore towards the cap. You feel too tired to even blanch at the odd feeling of wet socks as you pad along the path. You walk in silence which is interrupted by a bird call here and there with either you or Jon occasionally asking Damian to translate. He does but for some reason some odd reason, they keep calling you idiot or imbeciles. You watch Damian’s eyes flick here and there. You know he feels it too. The odd feeling of being watched. The rustle of leaves echoes eerily in the stillness. 

 The counselors, mercifully, let you skip out on the rest of the afternoon’s activities. You curl up in your cabin, warm and very comfortable in the pool of fabric created by one of Mr. Kent’s hoodies which Jon ‘accidentally’ packed. You rolled your eyes at him but accepted it gratefully. You make a mental note to thank him with the mill house cookies you ‘accidentally’ bought at one of the rest stops. 

 You flip through the yellowing pages of the book in your hand. You aren’t quite sure how to describe how inappropriate it is to give a drowning victim a book on the complete works of H.P. Lovecraft. Then again, it was better than reading Moby Dick. Plus, you’re enjoying yourself trying to find a man who is about as stealthy as a Green Lantern. You’ll have to ask Damian or Jon. Damian’s more likely to have met a Green Lantern but he’s also more likely to give you a boring and entirely inaccurate answer. 

 You go back to the fish people. Do Atlanteans walk like that? Maybe.  It feels odd somehow moving around without your prosthetic limb. Lighter but infinitely more unstable.  

 “Do you think they’ll find Cat?”

 Your ears perk up. Your eyes flick to the window and you see two counselors leaning against another cabin. You shuffle awkwardly somehow moving the mass of cloth quietly. You squish against the wall making sure they can’t see you. 

 “Cat just ran off. You know how she is.”

 “That’s what Raz said.”

 “Yeah, where is he?”

 “Who knows he’s probably just fucking around in the woods. Doing Bear Grylls shit or something.”

 “Hope he comes back soon.”

 “Do you really wanna deal with that horny jackass?”

 “No but he’s the only decent cook. Do you really wanna taste what awful concoction Ratty has for us?”

 Your stomach curdles remembering Ratty’s terrible improvisation of Doro Wat. Ratty said it was their grandmother’s recipe but you doubted it. Unlike the one Jason made for you one time, it was bland. It wasn’t even close to spicy. The vegetables were overcooked while the chicken was somehow undercooked. In short, you had nearly died twice since you got here. 

 “Nope. I’d rather starve. Isn’t their cooking like a human rights violation?”

 Starvation would be a kinder death. 

 “Yeah. Anyway, I tried asking Jos. Apparently, Raz and a bunch of the other Lil shits have been fucking around in town.”

 “Is that where Jackie disappeared to?”

 “Probably.”

 Ok, so the counselors have been dropping like flies and you have yet to notice. You should probably tell Damian and Jon. Something about this seems wrong. 

“Are you ever gonna stop glaring at them?” you ask, plopping on to the log letting your empty sleeve hang loosely off to your side. 

 “Depends, have they apologized?”

 “Ye-”

 “Sincerely?”

 “Well-”

 “Then no.”

 “Ok, but does Jon have to pout at them?”

 “I’m not pouting!”

 “Wait… That’s your glare?”

 “Yeah?” Jons says furrowing his brow. 

 “Batcow’s given me better glares!”

 “Again, (l/n) is right.”

 “Thank you!”

 “Dami, who’s side are you on?”

 Damian’s lips curl into a cat-like smile, the kind you saw on Selina. “Justice.”

 Jon throws his hands up defeated. You give Damian a low five as he settles beside you. Jon takes the seat on your other side still pouting. 

 "Do you kids know the rules to surviving a horror movie?" 

 The chattering dies down and you all fall silent, turning your full attention to the counselor. Your counselor lets out an absolutely delighted squeal, clapping their hands. You don’t miss the absolute dread on your other counselor’s face. 

 “Ok so, rule 1: Be a virgin-”

 “Ratty!” Dawes, the counselor with dread on her face, squeaks elbowing Ratty, Ratchet. “Couldn’t you have worded it differently or you know, not at all?!” Ratty, the horror enthusiast counselor, rubs their arm and sticks their tongue out at Dawes who looks like she’s going to age ten years during this conversation. 

 If you thought Dawes was pale before, she nearly turns transparent with the next few words that leave your mouth. “What’s a virgin?” you blurt out. You desperately want to curl in on yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t know. It was just your mouth runs faster than your mind.  The kids around you snicker and one of the boys behind you claps you on the shoulder, laughing loudly. You lean on Damian, hiding behind him slightly. Damian shifts so he’s shielding you more.

 Dawes sputters out her answer.  It’s hard to understand. You watch the others searching for clues for an appropriate reaction. 

 “It’s a person who’s never had intercourse,” Damian deadpans and you nod quietly. 

 Dawes’ face lights up like a Christmas tree while Ratty’s twists into pure joy. Damian rolls his eyes as the other kids laugh even louder. It takes a moment but your cheeks heat up realizing the gap in your reaction must have given them the wrong idea. You pinch the bridge of your nose and you sigh. You see Jon snort at you and you stick your tongue out at him. 

 “See, Dawes, they know.”

 “What about keeping them innocent?!” 

  “I’m not getting paid to do that,” Dawes drags her hand over her face as Ratty shrugs,” ’sides, this is life skills.” Dawes slaps Ratty on the shoulder again making them whine at the impact.  “Ok. Ok. Fine. Fine. Jeez, you hit like a son of a- Oh wait, have any of you heard about Camp Blood?”

 This gets you all to quiet down. 

 “Camp Blood? Isn’t that like a video game?”  

 “It’s like a local ghost story isn’t it?”

 “Wasn’t that the one with the fish-”

 “It’s not the fish people.”

 “Let me tell the story!”

 “Ratty, you never tell the story well. You keep making weird voices and you can’t even keep a straight face.”

 “SLANDER,” Ratty shouts, throwing up their hands. 

 “Pffft, you also gonna tell us you can cook a 5-star meal?”

 “Ok. Ok. Fine. I’ll just tell it to them straight.”

 “What? As straight as Dawes?”

 “Pffft, we’d go in circles.”

 “Hey!”

 “It’s true!”

 “You don’t have to say it.”

 “What’s the thing about Camp Blood?” Jon pipes, putting a hand over Damian’s mouth probably sensing the sharp remark he’s about to say. Damian licks his hand and Jon pulls away waving his hand like he’s been burned.  You snort then blanch when Jon rubs the spit on to your hoodie. 

 “Gather round children-”

 “Ratty, they’re in a circle get on with it.”

 “I AM TRYING TO SET THE MOOD.”

 “Jesus, ok. So, a looong time ago there was this kid named Jason Voorhes. When two counselors were fu- OW! Jeez, Dawes- Ow! Ok, fine. While two counselors were distracted, he drowned-”

 “Sounds familiar,” snipes Damian. An apologetic look crosses Dawes’ face, a confused one on Ratty’s, and sheepish one on Jos’. You squeeze his and Jon’s shoulders. 

 Ratty shakes their head. “Anyway, they never find the body so his mom comes back and hacks the new counselors into pieces as some soft of demented justice for her kid.”

 “That’s a bit of an overreaction,” Jos laughs awkwardly. The glares on them do not waver. You elbow Damian and kick Jon’s foot. Damian ignores you while Jon gives you a look of mock hurt.  You roll your eyes at him and attempt to elbow Damian a second time. Again, nothing.

 “The thing is one of the counselors actually manages to decapitate Mrs. Voorhees. She disappeared two months after though. Legend has it that Jason still roams the grounds of Camp Blood seeking revenge for his mother.”

 The air is humming, thick with the roll of thunder and  the premonition of a storm. 

 There is a dislocation in the universe. 

 Your ears pop. 

 You look at Jon who looks vaguely like his mother when she’s sniffed out a story. You look at Damian who is already sussing out every detail of the story. Your eyes meet and you all nod. 

“It has to be someone using the urban legend as some sort of cover. Or! Or maybe they’re using the urban legend to mythologize their killings,” you say, through a mouth full of contraband chocolate chip cookies. 

 Damian snatches the package from you taking a piece.“(l/n), that’s ridiculous-”

 “Yeah, we don’t even know if they’re dead yet,” Jon protests, snatching the bag from a scowling Damian. 

 “What are the odds they’re still alive?” 

 You all fall silent. “We assume they’re still alive until we see proof of the contrary,” Damian says firmly. You and Jon nod. The movement feels heavy.  

 “But what if the Jason ghost is a real thing?”

 “Possible.”

 “(l/n), don’t indulge him.”

 “Jon is literally part alien,” you protest

 “Jason has come back from the dead and Faust literally has moving tattoos,” Jon adds.

 “YOUR DAD IS LITERALLY BEST FRIENDS WITH A 5000-YEAR-OLD AMAZONIAN AND A DUDE WHO CAN LIFT BUILDINGS.”

 “Ok, fine but we should eliminate the more mundane explanations first,” Damian concedes accepting another cookie. 

 “I think we have. It’s too rapid and obvious to be a human trafficking operation.”

 “We should find the counselors first.”

 “Yeah, that’s a start.”

 “Where should we start?”

 “Abandoned cabins would be a good start,” you suggest trying not to perk up. 

 Damian glares at you and you wither. “(l/n), you’re not coming with us.”

 “You say this like (y/n)’s gonna listen,” Jon laughs. 

 “ET has a point,” you say, grinning and opening another packet. You offer Jon the first cookie as thanks. 

 “Can’t I at least be a cool alien?”

 “Nope.”

 “Will you two focus?”

 “Yeah. No.”

 Damian pinches his nose. You completely understand why people think Damian makes a convincing fifty year old. “(l/n)...”

 “Ok, fiiiine. I’ll stay out of it.”

 “Don’t even think about sneaking out.”

 You frown and nod. 

 You tiptoe through the brush, one metallic arm wrapped around you, the other hanging limply to your side flashlight clasped tight in your metallic hand.  Camp Blood isn’t too far. You silently survey a few cabins finding nothing particularly interesting aside from cobwebs and potentially dead animals. The air is musty and decayed. You sniff and rub your nose as you walk through the camp guided only by strips of moonlight. If you were to run into a murderer now, you would only have your flashlight to defend you. You didn’t like those odds. 

 You’re a deer in headlights. 

 Dry mouth. 

 Skin going cold. 

 A scream burbling in the back of your throat. 

 The lumbering figure is coming closer. 

 You know he can see you. 

 Your feet are fused to the ground. 

 The light of the machete winking at you from a distance. 

 The world turns into a blur when your back hits the rotting wood of the abandoned cabin. 

 “What did I say about sneaking out?” Damian hisses, arm pressed on your neck. You blink. A flood of relief crowds your chest. 

 You sling your arms around him and he stiffens. You explain away the surprised little yelp as something animal and not something from your friend. “I didn’t sneak out. I went to the bathroom then I wandered off,” you mumble. 

 “How exactly is that different?” 

 “Less tiptoeing.” 

 "Funny."

 "It is."

 "Have you seen Kent?"

 "Sadly no."

 "Shit- Don't tell Grayson."

 "The fact that you swore or the fact that you somehow lost Superman's kid" 

 He glares at you and you can't help but shrug. 

 "Both." 

 "Fair," you say, pausing for half a breath.”Did you find the hostages?”

 Damian’s face falls then hardens then you know better than to ask him.  

 “We should find Jon,” Damian says finally. You flick your eyes and shake your head pushing down the urge to make fun of his slip. You’ll tell Jon later. 

 You two walk together, shoes in hand. It was easier. Maybe after this, you’ll ask Tim to teach you how to sneak around. 

 The sound of crashing wood fills the still night air. You and Damian freeze. 

 “JON.” Damian is the first to launch himself towards a cabin. You shamble behind him, plodding through the muddy earth as fat droplets of rain splashing down.   You would have blanched at the squishing but all you could think about was Jon.  

“Jon!”

 “Dami! (y/n)!”

 “Are you ok?”

 “I’m in a hole. What do you think?”

 You look him over as best you can in the dark. Damian seems to be having a better time. “You’re not in pain, so yeah.”

 Jon huffs, shifting around in the pile of clothes. His nose wrinkles.“This jumper smells like something died in it," he says holding up a particularly old looking sweater. It's blotchy with various stains around the neck. 

 “Check for a pulse!” you shout, earning a sharp jab to the rib from Damian. You glare and rub your chest.

“Guys, I don’t wanna alarm you but I’m pretty sure there’s a decapitated head down here”

 “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Damian asks incredulously. Your skin drains of all color and warmth. 

 “Do you want the good news or bad news?”

 “That’s not-”

 “Where in that pile of bloody clothes did you get good news?”

 “Good news is he’s not here,” Jon says, eyes sweeping around.”Bad news, he’s actually real.”

 “Stop messing around and get out of there, Kent!”

 “Jon, come on! Fly or something!”

 “My powers are going-” Jon jumps. But only manage to just fall back down. “I can’t fly.”

 Damian groans. He pinches his nose and goes off to look for something to pull Jon up with.

 “Why do you think your powers aren’t working?”

 Jon shrugs. “Magic?” This place is cursed. 

 “We are dealing with a ghost,” you shrug back. You all freeze. The sound of distant footsteps making your heart race.

 “Dami!” you hiss, over your shoulder. 

 “I can’t find anything!”   

 “Wait,” you say, unfastening your arm and reaching down to Jon. Damian grabs hold of it with both hands and you two start pulling Jon up. 

 The footsteps are getting louder, closer. 

 "Hurry!" you hiss quietly. 

 Your hearts are racing. 

 You pull, Jon getting closer. 

 He’s almost in arm’s reach. 

 The man is getting closer. 

 You can hear his breathing. 

 You pull Jon up, feet kicking. You wrestle him into a hug with one arm, making a little happy squeal into his hair low enough that only they can hear. Damian nudges you with your arm. 

 “Well that was scary,” Jon whispers into your shoulder. Damian smacks him upside the head. You laugh but cut yourself off when you see Damian stiffen. “RUN!”

 You all scramble up and begin to dash away. You look back over your shoulder, machete winking at you, hockey mask visible in the dim light. 

 You stumble, feet getting tangled in roots. You yelp,  bracing for impact and possibly dying.  You feel arms scoop you up. You squeak. “No one gets left behind, soldier,” Jon says grinning. 

 “How are you still a goof when we’re about to die?” you laugh incredulously. 

 “He clearly gets it from his father.”

 “ Pfffft, probably or maybe it's an alien thing.”

 “Are you really gonna make fun of me, right now?” Jon protests, shouting over the rain. 

 “You two! This way!” Damian points to a small hole in the hillside.

 “I’m too tall for that!” Damian glares.

 You snort. “Just duck.” Jon scowls at you then sighed. 

 You all slide into a small crevice and hunched together. 

 “What’s the plan?”

 “Jon, are your powers working?”

 “Kind of?”

 “Ok, that’s one thing we have going for us,” Damian hands you a phone. "You call while we distract him." 

 "Why do you have to distract him?" 

 "Ask him yourself, (l/n)."

 Your eyes sweep up to the tall figure. Your mouth goes completely dry. 

 "Fuck." 

 Jason brings his machete down in a swift arc light. You grab Damian by the scruff of his shirt. The machete embeds itself into the wall, getting caught in the process. Your moment of relief doesn’t last long when Jason lunges for you.  You scream as he catches your arm. With a soft click it detaches and you scramble away and out the hole into the pouring rain. He’s hot on your heels. You hear a loud thud. You look over your shoulder. Jon’s resting against the wall, head slumped. You see him throw Damian to the ground. You call 9-11 as you hurl your shoe at him. The dial tone is ringing. When you look up again, Jason is heading towards you. You stumble barefoot trying to get away. Predictably, you fall, foot catching on another tangle of roots.  

  “Hello? Hello? Is anyone out there?”

 “Please help,” you whisper as Jason raises your arm to the sky. Your life flashes through like a film reel. Your breath is caught. Lightning flashes. 

 You watch the lightning cut through the heavens. The silver streak of light connecting might your arm and by extension Jason.  The arm explodes. Shrapnel flies everywhere. Jason bursts into flames. The smell of burning flesh cutting through the air. You watch in open-mouthed horror as another bolt of lightning hits. He falls body fried to a crisp. You wretch the smell still strong. 

 "Kid! Kid! Are you ok?" 

 "No…" you gasp, bile lining the back of your throat, "please,hurry. We're at Camp Blood." 

You’re cold and wet and forced to huddle into one blanket since the officer who responded only had one on hand.  Damian is talking on the phone. It’s hard to make out amidst the pouring rain, so you settle in letting Jon rest his head on your shoulder as he drifts to sleep. The officer said the rest of the force is coming to collect the bodies. The camp is most likely gonna be shut down for the summer. You weren’t keen on spending the entire summer with your cousins. 

 “I’ve informed father that you’re staying with us for the rest of the summer.”

 “Informed?” you laugh, relieved, ”good luck telling Jon that.”

 You both eye him. Jon snores into your ear and you can’t help but smile. “He’ll be fine.”

   Bonus

 The map in Jon’s hands crinkles loudly as he shuffles through it trying to find the correct route. You know the route. You memorized it before you even set off. You did it instead of studying for finals. It was certainly more entertaining than studying for a US history final when you already knew it was just gonna be about the American Revolution, World War II, and probably the Vietnam war. You hold back the snicker threatening to spill from your lips when, with each crinkle of the Dollar Store map, Damian’s brow twitched. Yes, this was the purpose of the map. It was most certainly doing its job well. 

 “You think they’ll still have the same dumb camp activities?”

 “You say this like you weren’t squealing to try all of them.”

 “Was not!”

 “Dunno,  Jon,  Dami has a pretty good memory.”

 Your car rolls to a stop in front of a cross-section. You drum your fingers against the steering wheel before you let curiosity override your self-preservation. 

 “How did you convince Dami to come along?”

 Jon tilts his head at you in question. “I didn’t,” he says slowly, “I thought you did.”

 Your passenger goes deadly silent. You both twist your bodies to look at him. Jon gives him a knowing smile while you give him a reassuring one that says ‘it’s ok you can tell us’. Damian avoids all eye contact like the plague, glaring at the window like there’s a particularly interesting speck of dust on it.  

 His eyes narrow. And you have the odd urge to follow his gaze. 

 The trees shift. 

 The pressure in the car builds. 

 Jon’s laughter stalls. 

 A shape flickers in the distance. 

 Your ears pop. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: THANKS FOR READING! Yes, reader has a prosthetic limb because I was reading 3 birds. Also, this can be treated as pre-slash. Epilogue is up for interpretation. Probably. Also fun fact, Faust is the basis for merc reader. I could not resist putting her in. 

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical

[sabinanotfound]

To Wilbur Soot. Sincerely, y/n. - PROLOGUE

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x fem!reader

Warinings: none

- (please not that this is just for fun and I don't mean to shame or make fun of anyone mentioned here)

series masterlist

masterlist

chapter 1

-

“Hello chat! How are we doing? Good, good.” He said, reading the chat. Donos appear on his screen once in a while during his greeting. He takes a sip from his water bottle before beginning to tell chat about the stream.

“So you have two hours to make me laugh. If I laugh the stream ends. If I don’t, I win.” The activity in the chat speeds up, indicating that more people joined the stream. Wilbur comments on a few donos and the first video appears on his stream. It’s an old vine, and he’s probably seen it before.

“Come on chat! I know you can do better! This is older than my grandma!” He jokes, a challenging smile appearing on his lips. Another video pops up, this time being successful on making Wilbur lightly smile, but not laugh. This continiues for a while, some of the videos making him smile, and some, frown and tell chat that they can do better.

Finally, a funny video makes him lightly chuckle, which he tries to cover up, but the chat is already pointing it out.

“C’mon chat! That was nothing!” When the chat proceesds to protest, he frowns.

“Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You convined me. Y’all really have the vision of an eagle.” He says, his mocking frown turning into a wholesome smile.

“Then I guess I have to finish the stream, you know the rules!” He says, an amused grin on his light pink lips. The chat is sad that he has to finish so soon, but in the end, they were to ones to point out his laugh.

Wilbur knows that, and nothing can amuse him more.

“Goodbye, see you on the next stream, chat!” He says, reading a few donos that viewers managed to squeeze in before he finished the stream.

Finally, the stream ends, and he leans back in his chair. He has been editing videos like crazy in the past few days, and he is tired. As much as he loves streaming and seeing all the positive comments and donos, he is glad that the stream ended earlier than he thought. Maybe he could sleep for a little bit before he has to go back to editing.

-

y/n leans back in her chair. Countless assignments and other tasks she had to do for school had been very tiring lately. Each day she got closer to exam week, she got less and less sleep, finishing with studying only towards the middle of the night.

The only thing that calmed her when she is in a bad mood is watching streams on Twitch, but lately, she wasn’t even able to have time to check her social media or just relax without having to worry about any upcoming projects or presentations.

She sighs. Leaving her computer aside, she rises from her chair and makes her way to the kitchen. Her tiny apartment was silent, the only sound being her footsteps on the floor that had a thin layer of dust.

Shit. I should vacuum. Glancing at the clock in the living room, she sees that it is almost past midnight. If she vacuumed, her neighbors would be pissed. The thought makes her laugh for some reason. She opens her fridge. The light coming from it makes her squint; her eyes had been hurting a lot recently, but she doesn’t have to think long to find the reason.

The only thing in her fridge is a little bit of leftover chicken and apple juice. She isn’t hungry; she’s rather thirsty, so she grabs the carton of juice. It’s cold and the minute it touches her hand she is awoken from her sleepy state. She opens a cupboard and takes a glass out, pouring the drink in it.

She puts the carton of juice back in its place before grabbing the almost-full glass and sitting on her couch. She doesn’t bother turning on the light, she’d much rather sit in the dark after studying and tiring her eyes for long hours. She brings up the round glass to her lips and takes a sip from the sweet liquid. Her dry throat burns; the juice is too cold and she’s drinking it too fast after being dehydrated for so long.

y/n is tired. She knows that she’s overworking herself, but is there an other way to achieving success? She doesn’t think so. She leans her head back and takes in the peace of the relaxing moment. She would’ve fallen asleep- well, if it wasn’t for the loud notification coming from her phone. She groans, and stands up. She doesn’t want to drink her juice anymore- the peaceful moment is gone.

Might as well look who the evil person ruining my moment is, she thinks. It’s just an email- a schedule of the next week’s classes.

A dissapointed sigh leaves her lips but as she locks her phone she sees a notification from Twitch: Wilbur Soot is live! Hmph. Weird. She doesn’t watch his streams, although she has heard of the streamer before and knows that his streams are mostly associated with Minecraft.

Why not? It’s been literal ages since I’ve logged on Twitch. She clickes the notification and it takes her to the app. The stream was two days ago. y/n becomes curious all of a sudden. On the screen she sees a boy with soft brown hair. It’s curly. He has glasses and a smile. A smile that for some reason warms her heart. It’s genuine. She starts watching the video carelessly, she wouldn’t come back to his streams anyway, right?

Oh no sweetie. Wrong.

-

series taglist: @m1lkmandan (please send an ask to be added or removed from the taglist!)