#body horror like whoa

[runraerun]

normal nightly thoughts

[unsister]

yeah sunday just ended here but like can i offer you some mushroom sex in these trying times

[electrozeistyking]

oh what's this??? more swanky in rot and infection fanart???? for me?????? it's apparently so good i'm literally looking at it from two separate devices right now!!! no joke!!!! :DDD

Wow! What's this!

I love infection aus, so when I saw @electrozeistyking infection AU, I had to draw some fanart. Loop being confused and freaking out is so funny!

Also school has started so my posts will be slower, however! I have something planned coming soon!

[amywritesthings]

your only, hopefully.

pairing: caleb x f!reader (love and deepspace) word count: 4.3k summary: You get stood up on your very first Valentine's Day date. Caleb, as always, manages to save the day.

rated mature // pre-main story, valentine's day fluff, psuedo-incest, use of 'gege' (big brother), unresolved romantic tension, a sprinkle of angst, a ton of yearning, first kiss, foot massage, virgin!caleb credit: dividers by @/saradika-graphics

( READ ON AO3. )

  [INCOMING MESSAGE] : Sry, can’t make it tonight :( 

You’ve read the text message at least a dozen times.

The thirteenth still has yet to register in your mind, though the belated anger, the confusion — the shame — creeps in like a cold sweat on the back of your neck.

Everything was almost perfect. You’d just set your makeup with a misting spray. One foot remains in a nude-colored high heel while the other foot remains on the fuzzy rectangular rug below, slanting you at an uncomfortable angle.

What once fit you perfectly now feels too tight.

Gran said buying a Valentine’s Day dress was special, that it could carry a lot of sweet memories, yet you find yourself disgusted by the crimson red hugging your body.

(Should you have known? Did you miss a sign between the lines?)

There is a knock on your door, but your brain doesn’t register the gentle wraps.

Jazzy saxophone and gentle drums, your romantic pre-game ambience, now croons morosely on your laptop; songs about love and finding the one and all that—

All that bullshit.

Hours.

You spent hours getting ready for a romantic evening that wasn't even happening now.

Your nostrils flare with the settling irritation in your belly when you grit your teeth, the feeling so overwhelming that you act without thinking:

Shrieking silently behind your pressed red lips, the sound muffled, you kick to launch your unsecured heel towards the door—

“Whoa!”

As if by divine fate (or misfortune) you watch in budding horror as Caleb darts out of the way of the offending shoe, crouching to the floor with his hands over his head.

Gege — formerly the most popular boy at school, now the golden wonder boy of the skies. Every person who has ever met him has wanted to know him, let alone date him, and you cannot blame them.

He's effortlessly kind, funny in his own right, and the type of classically handsome people think about when they dream up a hot-shot pilot with a bright future ahead of him.

He’s supposed to be out by wining and dining all of the amazing girls he’s met while away from home, yet he’s somehow standing — no, crumpled — at your bedroom door in a casual muscle tank-top and gray sweatpants.

“Caleb!” you exhale in shock.

(The text is forgotten, if only for one precious second.)

Remaining crouched, he continues to keep his eyes closed. 

“Could’ve warned me with a think fast, pipsqueak.”

 “I’m — shit, I’m so sorry,” you rasp as you rush over to him. “I didn’t think you’d be home.”

With that cocky smirk tugging at his lips, Caleb reveals a playful violet eye before freezing.

The other eye opens slowly, the confidence all but wiped off of his face when he stares at you.

The facade erases as fast as a passing cloud.

“...whoa.”

Stopping in your tracks, your brows knit. “What?”

“Where’d you get that?” he asks after a beat, voice a little tighter than before.

His gaze flicks down, then up to the crown of your head, then only a fraction lower as if willing himself to keep his eyes focused on your face and your face alone.

“I don’t remember that being in your closet.”

“That’s because I bought it earlier this week,” you state, matter of fact. You look down at the sparkling red dress with disdain. “Not that it matters now.”

Finally standing at full height, you watch Caleb’s throat bob before he steps into the threshold of your bedroom.

“Uh… why? Your friends cancelling for a night in? Makes sense. Saves money.”

Giving him a knowing glare, you cross your arms over your chest and sigh away the creeping embarrassment. “Not quite.”

“Cancelling in general?” he tries again, mirroring his arms over his broad chest. The motion accentuates his naked biceps.

(Huh. They look bigger since he last visited.)

“Worse,” you conclude. 

“Worse?”

“I got stood up by a guy in my hunter class, so that’ll be awesome to kick off Monday with.”

Before he can hide it, you see it: his jaw clenches, tight, and a dark shadow passes over his expression.

The playful boy you’ve grown up with disappears in a flash.

“Who’s the asshole?” he asks flatly. “Does he live nearby?”

“Caleb.”

“Was he going to come pick you up?”

“Caleb.”

“I have privileges now, pipsqueak. You point me in the right direction and I’ll—”

“Gege! Enough."

The old name of endearment you’ve retired when he turned eighteen, buried with the rest of your bizarre family memorabilia — one that’s only stayed in your mind and never exited your mouth ever since — slips.

Caleb’s eyes flash with discontent until you reach for his face, sandwiching his cheeks between your palms.

In an instant the heat is snuffed out, and he relaxes without any further debate.

You know how he gets.

Not quite jealousy, not entirely overprotection.

I’d fly to the sun and back for you, pipsqueak, you know that.

(You do. You know he would.)

Caleb will blindly step out of this home to go find whatever man scorned you on Valentine’s Day and take whatever repercussions arrive, no questions asked.

His affection for you has always run deeper than the familial title Gran suggested when you were both so very small.

Caleb, you protect your mei mei by any means necessary.

He took that vow seriously, even now when you’re both adults.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him — and yourself. “It’s stupid anyway. Valentine’s Day is barely a holiday.”

Brows furrowed, Caleb raises his hand to meet you, eclipsing your own. His skin is always so warm, soft despite the callouses from his vigorous workouts.

The softness of this gesture melts away the rest of your rage into an evaporating puddle at your feet.

“It’s not stupid,” he states. “You were excited about going out, and some punk took for granted the best girl in Linkon City.”

His eyes widen briefly before his fingers curl over yours.

“Nope. Uh-uh. The night has barely begun.”

When he tugs you towards your bedroom door, your first step stumbles. “Wait, what?”

“We’re going out.”

Are you hearing things?

“We — huh?”

“Go wait for me in the living room, alright?” he states, briefly kissing the back of your hand before letting go. “I’m sure Gran kept some of my presentable stuff hung up in my closet. Shouldn’t take me that long to get ready. A buddy of mine’s brother owns a restaurant in the shopping district.”

“But Caleb—”

“Ah-ah, nope.”  

His lips pop the ‘p’ purposefully.

Caleb turns in a semi-circle to you, his boyish black hair skating over his eyes as the cockiness returns in a grin. 

“Actually — might wanna grab your that shoe you tried attacking me with and its twin, then go wait for me in the living room. Can’t have you runnin’ barefoot on the sidewalk. You catch colds too easily.”

.

.

.

.

.

In true Caleb fashion, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

But you have better things to do than placate me!

(It isn’t placating if I want to do it, pipsqueak.)

But you probably have to return super early in the morning!

(Don’t care. I’ve pulled all-nighters worse than this.)

Caleb, you really don’t have to—

(Don’t finish that sentence.)

So you don’t.

Words cease to exist the minute you see Caleb walk out of his bedroom wearing his original Deepspace Aviation Administration dress uniform. You’ve only seen it once before at his graduation, all buttoned up in properly pressed olives and golds.

He walks towards you with that signature smirk of his, the one that makes just about everyone in Linkon City — and now Skyhaven — swoon no matter where he goes.

He looks beautiful.

(He should be out spending this holiday with a proper girlfriend, not you.)

It’s the mantra on your mind the entire way to the restaurant.

The way he holds the door open for you.

The way he pulls your chair out and makes sure you’re properly situated at a candlelit table.

The way he reaches across the table to squeeze your hand as if to reassure you—

Or himself—

That it’s not weird.

It isn’t, right?

Being here with the person who knows you best after all these years when you were meant to be sitting across from a damn near stranger; it isn’t like anyone in this restaurant knows your unusual upbringing, what you mean to one another.

So you squeeze back, and you see it: the tension in Caleb’s shoulders fades away.

For what it’s worth, his friend’s restaurant is far better than whatever you were going to have with your ghost.

The two of you share a bottle of wine and have the longest conversations you’ve held since he left for the academy.

Like the old days.

The ones where you’d spend countless hours in the summer heat enjoying the fireflies. 

The night skies littered with stars and swallowed by light pollution — that never stopped Caleb from telling you all about the planes passing over your heads.

Infectious; the sheer excitement to think of a new tomorrow waiting at the end of today.

And like two kids who didn’t know any better, you fell victim to speaking like the other would be an important part of that very tomorrow.

Video calls nightly, reduced to phone calls.

Phone calls weekly, reduced to texts.

Texts to… well, surprises like this.

Now, in the present, he’s still important. He’s still your gege, even if that title is a square piece trying to fit in a circular hole. 

No person will ever fill the Caleb-sized hole left in his absence as he reaches for the stars he so desperately wished to seek.

(And the wine’s beginning to taste like he needs to know that.)

.

.

.

.

.

“C’mon. Hop up.”

You’re several blocks from the restaurant walking in silence when Caleb is the first to break through the silence. 

Ordering any and all desserts off the menu that your heart desires, demanding the check to pay completely on his own dime — he’s spoiled you and then some tonight. 

I’ll take care of you, remember? That was my promise.

Except this is Valentine’s Day.

(Don’t you understand the importance of Valentine’s Day, gege?)

The question lingers on your tongue with venomous self hatred. Caleb has always been quick to act as your savior, putting your needs above all else, but this was the one night where you wanted something special. 

You can’t be special to the man walking beside you, not in the way the holiday suggests.

Too many problems.

Too many implications.

(We’re not joined by blood, only wine.)

That very wine turns sour the longer your heels irritate your feet in this slow, silent trek back to Gran’s house.

It’s when his melodic voice snaps you out of your mental spiral, causing your eyes to meet a softening violet gaze.

Winking, he assumes position: the taller man playfully squats with his hands low and at the ready to catch you mid-flight.

“What?” you finally blurt, trying to catch up to where this came from.

“C’mon, you’ve been wobbling on those heels for two blocks,” Caleb states, nodding once and nearly knocking his aviation cap. “Get on up here.”

“You want to carry me?”

“Does it look like I’m proposing anything else?” he retorts. “Don’t get big and brave. Big and brave means we’ll be dealing with blisters.” 

When you hesitate a second more, his voice drops to a gentler tone. 

“You’re overthinking, pipsqueak. I don’t want you hurting your feet. You got a city to keep safe in the morning, remember?”

Damn it.

He’s not wrong.

Relentling as you sling your small purse over your shoulder, you assume position with your arms wrapped around his neck.

When you hop up, Caleb effortlessly catches you without so much as a grunt from the added weight.

“Thatta girl. See, was that so hard?”

“I don’t have my hunter’s license yet,” you answer instead, combating his earlier sentiment as you relax against his back. He’s always been strong, but you're surprised by the sheer muscle nestled against your chest. “I’m not saving any lives right now.”

“You never know,” he states as he easily maneuvers across the street to stay the course leading to Gran’s house. “You’re smart. Capable. Strong. Who’s to say you don’t graduate early?”

“Oh, har-har,” you grumble as you drop your cheek against his back. Even if you can’t see it, the low chuckle he emits helps you envision a growing grin. “I won’t be graduating tomorrow. Early, maybe, but definitely not tomorrow.”

“How’s it going, by the way?”

“Mm?”

“Hunter school, duh.”

“Oh, you’re asking now?”

Caleb turns a corner, giving him a momentary pause. “You didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it at dinner.”

No, you didn’t.

(It’s so irritating, being seen sometimes.)

“Besides getting ditched for a date?” you inquire. “Not bad.”

Biceps tense against your sides.

“You didn’t get ditched,” he corrects, airier than before. “You made better plans.”

“Technically you told me to grab my shoes, so I didn’t make anything,” you argue in return, the wine adding a boldness to your tongue. “I just followed your orders.”

With a tsk, tsk, tsk under his breath, the fingers around your thighs squeeze the bare flesh as a teasing warning to knock it off.

Caleb finally crosses the street to Gran’s front door, only setting you down to fish the front door key from his uniform pocket.

As soon as he has the door opened, however, he props it with his knee and loops an arm around your back.

Using the hand curled around your upper arm, he pushes you backwards and straight into his arms. He scoops just under your knees in a bridal style carry through the threshold of the house.

Your shriek twists into a bewildered cackle at the abruptness of his gentlemanly reprise, your arms scrambling to hold his neck for dear life.

He carefully maneuvers you both into your bedroom. “What?” he asks with amusement peppering his tone. “Something up?”

“Yes!” you laugh as he gingerly sets you down on your bed. “Or — I guess not anymore.”

Caleb grins as he drops to a knee, his slender fingers deftly working on the loops of your heels.

“Haven’t heard you laugh like that since high school.”

“No?”

“Nah,” he states, sliding the shoe off with caution — avoiding any possible blisters they may have caused while simultaneously searching your heel and toes for blemishes. When satisfied, he starts on the second heel. “It’s nice.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m being serious, pipsqueak,” he replies, brows knit together with another huff of amusement. “I was afraid hunter school would’ve wiped off your sense of humor or something. The pros in the field always seem so… serious.”

His fingers absently rub along the arch of your foot, pressing into the tender muscle with the pads of his thumbs.

Your eyelids flutter from the sheer pleasure of such a simple movement.

Just as you’d hoped that maybe he’d continue tending to the weary soles of your feet, Caleb freezes.

His hands remain where they are, but his eyes drop to your lap to avoid yours.

Something feels… off.

Like there’s something on the tip of his tongue — something maybe lingering on yours as well — but the silence engulfs the telepathic conversation warring in your minds.

So you break it, skirting past the tension.

“This is the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” you admit under your breath, earnest and appreciative.

Caleb’s chin lifts without hesitation this time, his violet eyes wider.

The muscles in his cheeks twitch, suppressing a smile before it can fully surface, before speaking just as softly.

“Your only — hopefully.”

“Not my only, no.”

When his face falls, you cheekily follow up with a growing smile of your own.

“Technically you used to always be my Valentine, back in the day, so I've had Valentine's Days to remember before. Don’t think I forgot the baskets you used to make up for me so easily.”

It takes a second, but life eventually returns to his face in screaming color.

If the room wasn’t so dark, you’d swear the man kneeling before you was blushing.

“Damn, you remember those crappy things?”

“Do you seriously think I’d forget my after school Valentine’s Day baskets, Caleb? Really?”

“It’s been a while,” he argues, letting go of your foot to rest both palms on the ruffled sheets on either side of your hips. “We were just kids.”

“Yeah, but it meant something.”

Just like tonight.

Caleb has always gone above and beyond for your comfort.

(Your praise.)

Always putting your needs before his; always sorting out solutions that benefit you the most; always coming in last for eating, for sleeping, for taking showers, for…

Everything.

Even tonight, so long as it means it makes you happy.

Yet even if the wine loosens your secrets, you don’t expect him to confess why he spent so much of his waking hours catering to you and you alone.

(Square space, meet circular abyss.)

His eyes crinkle as he smiles up at you, admiring what sits in front of him.

The look makes your stomach somersault, heart yearning to reach for him — to touch the warmth of his skin and bask in an endless summer —

“You look deep in thought, pipsqueak.”

Caleb’s voice takes you from the dreamlike fantasy, short-circuiting the directive to never speak about what’s right in front you.

“You said this was a date, right?”

The question falls out of your mouth faster than intended.

Still all smiles, you note the furrow in Caleb’s brow.

“Sure, why?”

“And it was good?”

“I mean, I thought so,” he states. “We didn’t even come home with leftovers, so I can’t imagine you’re gonna tell me that you hated the restaur—”

“Don’t good dates usually end with a kiss?”

Every ounce of heat in this room vanishes in a flash.

The playful smile remains, but the intent shifts from earnest to disingenuous in a flinch. 

A mask; micro-movements in the muscles of his face show a new story about the night, one not as innocent as his knight in shining armor may have originally displayed.

You can only hope you aren’t reading between the wrong lines.

When your question isn’t met with an answer, rejection squeezes your stomach mercilessly.

You didn’t read between the lines, no — you crossed them, possibly to a degree you may never recover from.

“It’s fine,” you blurt immediately, waving your hands wildly in front of your chest. 

Caleb’s face falls in worried despair, and you find that this new onslaught of adrenaline is making you nauseous.

“Wait—”

“Forget I said that. Whoops, the wine—”

“Hey, no, don’t hide from me.”

Before you can press your palm to your forehead, those same warm hands curl around your fingers to tug it down. 

“C’mon.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid—

In an attempt to create some distance, you push yourself back onto your bed and swing your bare feet out of Caleb’s orbit, side-stepping him completely.

Standing to take to a pace, you don’t have the willpower to ask him to leave.

“It’s fine, seriously. Thank you for the nice night,” you keep going, trying to talk yourself out of the panic you feel eroding your belly.

Crying would just make this worse.

“Pipsqueak, don’t.”

“You said you had an early morning, right?”

Finally turning to face him, his image is watery at best.

You blink as fast as you can to eliminate the tears brewing in your eyes, but they seem to be working faster.

Caleb’s eyes grow impossibly wide at the sight of your struggles, as though your confliction hurts his very goddamn soul.

His long legs take one stride, another, a final until his large hands imprison your face to stare right into his.

You realize too late that he’s leaning in.

Dipping down.

—and a pause.

What was once covered in ice is thawed, and soon the warmth — the heat — of the most important man of your life returns. 

Those violet eyes stare down at your nose, dipping lower, cursed to stall.

You don’t move.

Couldn’t, not when your lungs have seized with confusion; anticipation.

“Tell me not to.”

His voice doesn’t sound the same — once cocky and confident, walking through life with everyone adoring his Midas touch, now withers and dies as a broken plea.

His breath mixes with yours.

You can still smell the red wine on his tongue.

“...Caleb?”

The pinkish flecks of his eyes flicker when he raises his attention.

In the dim light of the window, he looks boyish here.

Scared.

“Tell me not to,” he weakly repeats. “Just tell me not to and I won’t.”

Oh.

Now you’re the one at a loss for words.

“If you didn’t mean to ask,” he clarifies, tone trembling, “if you want to rewind to five minutes ago, then I’ll go to my room. I’ll leave in the morning, but if you —”

Stopping himself, the man looks physically pained when his eyes close, inhaling slowly as if to settle his budding nerves.

The tension in his jaw bubbles, clenches, until he exhales through his nose as steadily as he can.

“But if you say yes, I won’t be—” 

“Please?”

The word — the request, the plea — escapes faster than intended.

So does Caleb’s restraint.

Both hands holding your face drag you forward, your bare feet sliding along the floor, until you feel a gentle pressure on your lips.

Your hands grab the front of his uniform, balling the fabric between your fists as you decidedly press back.

His makes a noise of surprise against your mouth, melting into the reciprocation.

You notice as you both exhale, parting for only a moment before pressing lips against lips once more, that his hands are shaking.

Maybe you’re shaking, too.

Because it should feel wrong. Every time you’ve fantasized about being the girl he takes to a formal, the woman his eyes linger on for too long from across the bar, you’ve been struck with the immense shame in the back of your mind. 

Wrong, like he was ever truly blood.

Wrong, like the fates laughed in the face of undeniable desire.

Wrong, like you would ever love anyone more than Caleb. 

Nothing has ever felt more right.

All you can focus on is the way he smells, like woodsy cologne and red wine; the way he touches you so preciously, his thumb absently running along your cheekbone the longer you kiss in the middle of your bedroom; the way he sounds with every press and pull, gutted with pure arousal and want.

Your name, fluttering against his tongue, before it glides along your lower lip.

You don’t deny him.

He groans as if your refusal to stop could ruin him, but there is a sharp inhale before a chill passes against your glistening lips.

Caleb pulls away to find a purchase of air, violet eyes as dark as deepspace while regarding the haze of affection he’s met by your fluttering eyes. 

“Hey.”

The greeting is shy.

Small.

Swallowing to coat your dry throat, you weakly reply. “Hey.”

“You good?” he murmurs, petting the crown of your head affectionately.

A dam has broken — for the next few minutes, you have Caleb at his most raw.

Gone is the guarded expression you’ve learned to live with, replaced with radiating affection.

Despite yourself, you nod.

“Should I ask where you learned to kiss like that?”

He huffs, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

Wait.

Your expression smooths with recognition. “What do you mean—?”

A smile, euphoric and unabashed, breaks out.

“What, you think I’m busy kissing aliens or something when I’m out flying?”

Scorned by his playfulness, you bump your fist against his broad chest.

“Caleb.”

“What?” he teases. “You asked — but, ah… no. That was—”

His brow knits for a moment, a blush creeping up his neck to his ears.

“My best effort at my first. Why, couldn’t tell?”

You.

His first kiss happened with you.

Your lips tingle with the shock — the sheer satisfaction — of holding that title.

“Don’t go back to your room tonight,” you softly state instead, reaching for his hand to squeeze it. The blush on his face only intensifies, so you let out a tiny scoff. “To cuddle, genius. I’m not looking to check off all of the boxes in one night.”

Caleb makes a tsk sound with his tongue before tilting his head.

“Preserving my honor, I see.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Even if you’ve gone past the point of no return—-

Even if you’re crossed the line—

Somehow he’s still Caleb, and you’re still you.

You thought that if one day you both took the impossible, forbidden leap of faith, that it would destroy the very foundation of what you’ve been since you were children.

Yet it feels like it was meant to always be this way — as if it’s as catastrophic as a rogue breeze on a summer night.

Taking his hand, you pull him back to your bed. 

As you slide onto the mattress to get comfortable, Caleb shrugs out of his uniform jacket, leaving him in a white tee.

He crawls alongside you the way he used to during thunderstorms, scooping you close to his chest while his heavy arm settles around your waist.

Protective.

You settle against him just as you always have, eyes closed.

Only the feel of his heart racing against your back remains.

For a moment you both lay here, basking in what’s happened — what will never be the same — before his voice murmurs against your neck.

“If you ever wanted to check off all of the boxes—”

His nose nuzzles your skin, humming at its scent.

“—they’ve always been yours to take.”

.

author's note: caleb gripped me tight and raised me from season depression perdition and i owe him my life (dramatic but true). this is my first ever lads fic despite being a week one player so tysm for reading !! i hope to write more in the very near future. happy valentine's day, tumblr friends. xoxo amy

[scoupsakakitty]

hello!! this is my first request lol, can we have fluff of svt 14th member when she gets her period?? something along those lines however you want to interpret it!!

Wingmen and Wings | idol!Seventeen x 14thMember!Reader | fluff, slight angst

It was just another exhausting practice day for Seventeen. The heavy beat of the music echoed through the walls of the practice room as the members moved in sync, their bodies drenched in sweat.

In the middle of the formation, Y/N, the 14th and only female member, struggled to keep up.

Her legs felt heavy, her stomach churned, and a dull ache throbbed in her lower back. She tried to push through it, focusing on the rhythm, but each step felt like her body was working against her.

“Y/N, what’s wrong with you today?” Seungkwan teased from across the room.

“Yeah, did you forget how to dance?” Vernon added, smirking.

“Maybe she’s just lazy,” Hoshi joked, always ready to poke fun.

Y/N froze mid-step, glaring at them.

“Maybe you guys should just shut up for once!” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.

The room went silent.

“Whoa,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath. “What’s with the attitude?”

Y/N clenched her fists, heat rising to her face not just from embarrassment, but also frustration. She grabbed her water bottle and stomped to the corner of the room, leaving the boys stunned.

———————————————————————————-

During the break, Y/N sat with her back against the wall, scrolling through her phone and trying to ignore the ache in her stomach.

She didn’t notice when Joshua walked up to her, holding his jacket in his hands.

“Here,” he said softly, draping it around her waist.

Y/N looked up, confused.

“What are you doing?”

Joshua leaned in closer, lowering his voice.

“I think you started your period,” he whispered carefully, avoiding eye contact. “You should go check. Like—now.”

Her eyes widened in horror.

“What? No—are you serious?”

Joshua nodded, his voice kind but urgent.

“Just go. I’ll cover for you if anyone asks.”

Heart pounding, Y/N tied his jacket tighter around her waist and hurried out of the room as casually as she could.

———————————————————————————-

In the bathroom, Y/N confirmed her worst fear.

She had, in fact, started her period—and had nothing with her. No pads, no tampons, and no spare clothes.

Her stomach sank as panic bubbled up.

Her hands trembled as she grabbed her phone, dialing Joshua’s number.

“Josh?”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Her voice came out in a whisper.

“I need help,” she said, mortified. “I don’t have any pads or tampons. Or clean clothes. I need you to—” She paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I need you to get me some stuff.”

Joshua hesitated only for a second.

“Okay. What kind?”

“The ones with wings,” she said quickly, then groaned. “You know—pads. With wings.”

“Wings?” Joshua repeated, sounding confused. “Like… flying wings?”

“No! Just—ugh, never mind! Please hurry!”

“Got it,” he said. “I’ll figure it out.”

———————————————————————————-

Joshua rushed out of the practice room, but Mingyu and DK caught him at the door.

“Where are you going?” DK asked suspiciously.

“And why do you look like you just saw a ghost?” Mingyu added.

Joshua hesitated.

“Y/N needs something,” he said. “It’s… personal.”

DK and Mingyu exchanged concerned looks.

“What is it?” Mingyu pressed.

Joshua sighed.

“She started her period,” he said quietly. “And she doesn’t have anything—no pads, no clothes, nothing.”

“Oh.” DK blinked. “Ohhh.”

“We’re helping,” Mingyu said immediately. “Come on.”

———————————————————————————-

Joshua quickly met up with Mingyu and DK to head out and buy what Y/N needed.

“Alright, we need to grab pads, clothes, snacks… anything we can think of to help her,” Joshua instructed, his mind already racing.

“Pads. Got it,” Mingyu said, his eyes scanning the shelves. “Do we need a specific kind? Like, wings or no wings?”

Joshua hesitated for a moment. “Let’s just get the ones with wings. She’ll be more comfortable.”

DK nodded. “Got it. We’ll grab those. Maybe we should also buy the overnight ones or the ultra thin ones or what about the maxi pads? Fuck it let’s buy them all. What about clothes?” DK added, tossing all the pads into the shopping cart.

Joshua glanced at the tampons on the shelf. “What about tampons? What size should we buy?” The tree boys stared at the tampons, unsure what to do. “What do you mean by size? You mean the size of her.. you know?” DK asked, his face flushing slightly. “No are you dumb?” Mingyu laughed, shaking his head. “It’s for her period flow. Light, regular, or super. You know, the amount of flow she has.” Joshua nodded, relieved. “Yeah it’s all about the flow. We’ll go with regular for now.”

Mingyu grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. “These look like something she’d wear. Big and comfy.”

Joshua nodded. “Good choice. She’ll definitely appreciate this.”

Mingyu paused for a moment, then added, “Maybe we should add these too. Not to be weird, but I think she might need these as well.” He grabbed a pack of underwear and tossed it into the cart.

Joshua blinked in surprise. “Oh, uh, yeah, you’re probably right. She’ll need those.”

DK, who had been holding a pack of pads, looked at Mingyu, then back at Joshua, his face flushed. “Yeah, it’s for… the whole situation.”

————————————————————————————-

Back at the dorm, Jeonghan, Seungkwan, and Dino had begun preparing a cozy space for Y/N, knowing she would need a relaxing environment.

“We should set up a space for her to just relax,” Jeonghan said, laying out blankets and soft pillows across the couch.

“Agreed,” Seungkwan added, fluffing the pillows. “She’s going to need something comfy after all this. Maybe we should dim the lights and add some soft music?”

“Definitely,” Dino agreed. “The more peaceful, the better.”

As the group worked, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, and Vernon were in the kitchen, preparing a warm meal.

“Do you think she’ll want soup?” Hoshi asked, stirring a pot.

“She’s definitely going to need something light,” Woozi replied. “Something comforting.”

Vernon grabbed some chocolate. “And don’t forget dessert. She’s going to need chocolate, too.” Wonwoo nodded. „She loves chocolate ice cream lately.”

“Right!” Hoshi grinned. “Comfort food all the way.”

————————————————————————————-

Meanwhile, S.Coups, Jun, and The8 were on their own mission, heading to the pharmacy to buy painkillers and whatever else they could find to ease Y/N’s discomfort.

S.Coups grabbed a bottle of painkillers. “We’ve got to make sure she’s okay, so let’s grab some extra just in case.”

“I’ll grab some tea,” Jun suggested, reaching for a box of chamomile. “It’s relaxing. She’ll need it.”

The8, however, suddenly grabbed a bottle of iron supplements, holding them up to S.Coups and Jun. “We need this too,” he said earnestly.

S.Coups blinked in surprise. “Iron? Why?”

The8 looked serious. “I read somewhere that women lose a lot of iron during their period. It can help with fatigue, so we need to get it.”

Jun looked amused. “You’ve been doing your research, huh?”

The8 shrugged. “I want to make sure we cover all bases.”

S.Coups nodded approvingly. “Alright, let’s get it.”

———————————————————————————-

Joshua returned to the bathroom, knocking softly.

“Y/N? It’s me.”

She cracked the door open just enough to peek out.

“You got it?”

“Everything,” Joshua said, holding up multiple bags. “Clothes, pads—wings included—and snacks. Oh, and S.Coups brought painkillers.”

Y/N grabbed the bags, her cheeks red.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

Joshua grinned. “Don’t mention it. Just change and come out when you’re ready.”

———————————————————————————-

By the time they all made it back to the dorm, Y/N froze in shock.

The living room had been completely transformed.

Blankets and pillows covered the couch, the lights were dimmed, and a heating pad was already plugged in and waiting for her. A full meal was spread out on the table, along with chocolates, herbal tea, and drinks.

“What… is this?” Y/N asked, her voice breaking.

“We figured you’d need this,” Jeonghan said, smiling softly. “So—surprise?”

Her lip trembled as tears filled her eyes.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” she whispered.

“Of course we did,” Mingyu said. “You’re our family.”

Before they knew it, she pulled them all into a giant group hug, burying her face in Seungkwan’s shoulder as the others squeezed in around her.

———————————————————————————-

Later that night, they all piled onto the couch to watch a movie.

Y/N sat in the middle, wrapped in a blanket with the heating pad pressed against her stomach.

Halfway through the movie, she leaned against Joshua’s shoulder, her eyelids drooping.

“You’re the best,” she mumbled sleepily.

Joshua smiled, brushing her hair back gently. “I know.”

The rest of the boys exchanged proud smiles, looking down at Y/N as she fell asleep surrounded by her second family.

“Mission accomplished,” Woozi whispered.

And as they all settled in for the night, they knew they wouldn’t have it any other way.

———————————————————————————-

[amen-to-tiddies]

MOOOOREEE I NEED MORE MARKIPLIER IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

Top Mark x Bottom Reader

List of the fun stuff:

Shameless Smut, Dumb Himbo Mark, Size Difference, Public Humiliation, Vibrating Butt Plug, Overstimulation, Alleyway Sex, Weak-from-Pleasure Reader, Rough Manhandling, Desperate Orgasms, Dumbification, Clueless Mark Being Too Rough, Praise Kink (Receiving), Helpless Reader, Cock-Drunk, Breeding, Cum as Lube, No Aftercare Because Mark is Dumb as Bricks but Loves You.

PART ONE (Different scenario, you don't need to read part 1)

Dumb, Big, and Absolutely Wrecking You in Public.

It was supposed to be simple, you just wanted to try out something new.

And all he had was one rule. One tiny, VERY important little rule.

“Mark, whatever you do, don’t turn it past fifty in public, okay?”

even that was pushing it...

But of course, the himbo motherfucker wasn’t even listening. Nodding along with that cocky little smirk, flexing his massive arms like a dumbass, probably daydreaming about some random horror game he was gonna play later instead of focusing on the very, very crucial information you were trying to drill into his thick skull.

And now look at you.

Legs trembling, fingers clutching onto his bicep like a lifeline, the soft whirring of the plug inside you growing stronger, hotter, devastating.

this was way fucking more than 50%.

Mark was barely paying attention, just swinging your intertwined hands like the lovesick idiot he was, oblivious to the way your entire body was quaking, how your breath hitched with every step, how your thighs squeezed together in a desperate attempt to keep your composure.

“Man, this is nice, huh?” he said, totally unaware of the absolute torment you were in. “Just you, me, a nice lil’ walk through town, some fresh air-”

You nearly collapsed right there in the middle of the street when the plug adjusted and the vibrations pulsed straight into your weak spot.

Mark caught you easily, confused as hell. “Whoa, hey babe, what’s wrong? You sick or somethin’?”

You could barely think, barely breathe. Your voice came out strangled but hushed. “Mark- turn it- turn it down-”

“Huh?”

You gritted your teeth, fingers digging into his forearm. “The fucking- the-fucking-plug.”

Mark’s eyes went wide. And then, the bastard laughed.

“Ohhhh, that’s what’s got you all squirmy! Shit, babe, why didn’t you say anything?” He grinned, all easygoing and clueless. “I thought you were just having fun.”

“Mark, I swear to God-”

Before you could even finish the sentence, another wave of pleasure shot through you, making you whimper right there in broad daylight, and Mark’s grin got wider.

“Oh, shit. Oh, babe.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you, like… getting off right now?”

Your breath hitched. Your body jerked against him. You could barely keep yourself upright.

Mark’s eyes darkened, gaze flicking down to where your legs were clenching, where your fingers were practically clawing into his skin, how utterly helpless you looked beneath him.

And then, the idiot did the unthinkable.

He pressed the remote in his pocket.

Full power.

You gasped- a high, broken sound- and then you were gone.

Your knees buckled, body giving out as the vibrations tore through you, devastating, overwhelming. Your orgasm slammed into you out of nowhere, stealing the breath from your lungs, making you jerk and tremble like a fucking ragdoll. Your legs nearly gave out right there on the sidewalk, barely able to hold yourself up, barely able to stop yourself from making an absolute scene-

Mark was quick, moving fast, sweeping you into his arms like you weighed nothing.

“Shit, okay, okay, I gotcha,” he murmured, suddenly all protective, cuddling you up against his chest like a hero rescuing a damsel in distress. He waited for you to recover and then leaned in, his voice was laced with a sudden hunger. “Fuck, babe. You just came in public? That’s kinda hot.”

You barely registered being shoved into the shadows of an alleyway, your whole body still twitching, spent, ruined.

But Mark wasn’t done with you yet.

He pressed you against the brick wall, eyes glinting, so goddamn big above you, crowding you in with his sheer size.

And then his fingers trailed down past your pants, brushing between your legs, feeling the mess you’d made of yourself.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, awe-struck. “You’re still shaking.”

His cock was already hard, tenting against his jeans, pressed right up against you.

“Fuck babe I'm not gonna lie... I kinda wanna see you do that again.”

And before you could protest, before you could even think, he was turning the plug back on, watching as your body broke all over again.

He grinned as you whined, as you pleaded, as your eyes rolled back, the plug was in the most perfect fucking spot to where it just pulsed, throbbed and vibrated right against your g-spot leaving you weak, helpless and sagging against the wall all under marks huge frame.

you felt humiliated and mark was living for it.

You felt humiliated, and Mark was living for it.

He reached down, palm warm and rough as he cupped you through your soaked pants. “Goddamn, babe, you’re dripping,” he groaned, voice thick with need. His fingers now sliding down your waistband and wrapping around you, stroking slow, teasing, milking every bit of slick that pooled at the tip.

“Mark-” you whimpered, but it was useless.

“Shhh, just let me,” he whispered “Fuck, you’re so messy already, baby.”

He worked you over, jerking you off with slow, deliberate strokes, collecting every drop of cum and slick on his fingers until his whole palm was covered in it. wasn't long before he was slinging his jeans and boxers below his crotch and smearing the collected slick down the length of his cock, groaning at the feel of it. the dumb fuck had just worked 2 of the most leg shaking orgasms out of you.. was he really about to fuck you now? you're question was answered by mark spinning you around and tugging your pants and boxers

“Shit, babe, look at that,” he whispered, rubbing his tip against your entrance, pushing past the resistance. “You’re already so stretched out from the plug, bet I could just- push right in-”

no patience for this himbo. he did it as soon as he said it.

You sobbed as he sank in deep, so big, so thick, stretching you open somehow even more until you swore you could feel him in your fucking stomach.

“Fuck,” Mark groaned, hands gripping your hips, shoving you hard against the brick wall. “Goddamn, baby, you’re taking it so good.”

You could barely speak, barely breathe, barely do anything but whimper and whine and let Mark fuck you like you were made for it.

Mark’s pace was relentless, hips slamming against yours, every thick, brutal thrust forcing choked-out whimpers from your lips. His grip was firm, fingers digging into your hips as he held you in place, letting out a deep, satisfied groan every time you clenched around him.

“God, babe- fuck- you’re my best boy, y’know that?” His voice was breathless, awe-struck, like he was witnessing something divine. “Shit, the bestest boy of all.”

You could barely respond, barely think, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure of this mans huge dick just pounding your prostate.

Mark let out a dazed little laugh and pulled you up so could thrust that cock in even deeper. pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder “You love this, huh?” His words were stifled with dirty grunts and deep moans that made your body shiver in his huge arms, but his words were so damn soft. “God, you feel so good- so goddamn perfect for me.”

His hips stuttered for a second, like he was trying to hold back, trying to savor it, but the way you squeezed around him had his restraint snapping in half.

“Shit, babe, look at you,” he groaned, running a huge, calloused hand down your stomach, feeling the way he stretched you from the inside. “So fuckin’ beautiful- God, I love you.”

His other hand slid between your legs, fingers teasing, giving slow, lazy strokes. “Best fuckin’ baby,” he murmured. “Nobody else could take me like this. yknow that?"

You let out a collage of unholy sounding whimpers synced with each thrust of his cock barely able to stay standing, and Mark fucking melted more at each one.

“fuckin perfect, yknow that? you're so perfect,” he cooed, pressing kisses along your jaw, completely obsessed, completely gone. “You’re takin’ everything I give you- such a good boy for me.”

He pulled your head sideways just enough to see your expression, eyes hooded, lips parted, your whole body weak with pleasure. The sight alone nearly made him lose it.

“Fuck, baby." he groaned, voice thick with adoration. “I'm gonna..”

Pushing his cock as deep as he could the man released rope after rope coating your insides and filling you up until you were leaking his cum even with his cock still inside you. this insanely hot feeling brought you well over the edge for your third orgasm of the day.

"That's my boy" the man still in his state of euphoria gave you a big ol' hickey right on the side of your neck "I'll try getcha cleaned up"

[come-as-you-are-111]

My Flower

Warnings: squid game gore, fluff, cussing, no use of Y/N, literally nothing else.

Request: Yes!

You had just survived another gut-wrenching game in this hellhole called the Squid Game.

What sick bastard came up with this?

Your body ached, every muscle screaming from the relentless running, the sheer panic of finding a room in time. But it wasn’t just the physical exhaustion—it was the weight of it all. The stench of sweat and fear clung to the air, the distant sound of quiet sobbing from those who had lost people they cared about.

More bodies. More deaths. More proof that none of you were meant to survive this place.

You exhale sharply, pushing through the sea of bunk beds until you spot your own on the O side, just wanting to collapse. But before you can take another step, you feel the presence of the two doofuses you somehow ended up teaming with.

A loud, familiar voice cuts through the suffocating silence.

“My girl! Señorita!”

A pair of strong arms suddenly wrap around your waist from the side, halting your movement. Thanos.

The breath gets knocked out of you as the giant of a man pulls you into a tight hug, warmth radiating from his solid frame. He smells faintly of sweat and old cologne, but there’s something oddly comforting about it—like familiarity in a place where everything is foreign and cruel.

“I’m so happy to see you again, Flower!” His voice is rough with relief as he slightly pulls back, scanning your face like he needs to be sure you’re really here. “I was so worried about you, señorita.”

His hands find yours, gripping them tightly like you might slip away if he lets go.

“I thought I was running with you, but then I turned around and saw this asshole.” He tilts his head toward Nam-Gyu—Player 124—before focusing all his attention back on you, as if you’re the only thing that matters in this room.

Nam-Gyu lets out a low chuckle. “It’s like I told you, dude—she won’t go down easy.”

He smirks, nudging you lightly with his elbow. “You saw her, right? Se-Mi was like this—” He flattens one hand like a piece of paper. “And I thought she froze up. Then, out of nowhere, the scissors!” He snaps the fingers of his other hand in a quick, slicing motion. “That’s when I went, ‘whoa, this girl’s crazy!’”

Your stomach twists at the mention of Se-Mi.

You had been teammates. You should’ve looked out for her. But in that moment, survival had outweighed loyalty, and you made a choice.

A selfish one.

Still, you force a small smile, masking the guilt that lingers.

Thanos doesn’t seem to notice. He slings a heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he and Nam-Gyu guide you back toward your bunks.

“Let’s play one more game, okay?” His voice is softer now, a quiet reassurance that, despite everything, you’re not alone.

The massive room is filled with the rhythmic sound of breathing, shifting blankets, the occasional sniffle. But despite the exhaustion pulling at your limbs, sleep refuses to come.

You lie in your bunk, staring at the ceiling, your mind replaying the horrors of the past two days. The screaming. The gunshots. The lifeless bodies discarded like garbage. It was unbearable.

Su-Bong had insisted on sleeping in the same bunk to “keep you safe.” You still weren’t sure how cramming into this tiny-ass bed together accomplished that, but here you were—his arm wrapped securely around your waist, his face nuzzled into your neck.

His body heat seeped into yours, steady and grounding. The faint, rhythmic sound of his snoring tickled your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You could pretend that was what was keeping you awake.

But it wasn’t.

It was this place.

It was the knowledge that, at any moment, they could wake you up for another game. That more people would die. That you might be next.

“Su-Bong,” you whisper. “Are you awake?”

The snores falter, his hold tightening slightly before his voice—low, raspy with sleep—replies, “I am now. What’s wrong, Flower?”

You hesitate before finally turning to face him, your noses nearly brushing. His bleached-purple hair is a mess, strands falling over his tired but attentive eyes.

“I can’t sleep,” you admit, voice barely above a breath.

His brows furrow slightly. “It’s this place.”

You nod. “Everything is just so…” You struggle to find the right word.

“Controlled,” he mutters, his voice laced with quiet resentment.

Your throat tightens. “Yeah… really does.”

He exhales heavily, shifting closer, his face burying into the crook of your neck as if he could block out the world outside this bunk. You feel him inhale deeply, his breath fanning over your skin.

“Can you promise me something?” His voice is barely a murmur now.

You don’t hesitate. “Of course.”

He lifts his head slightly, looking at you through the dim lighting. His eyes, usually mischievous, are serious. “Promise me… that when we get out of here, we’ll find each other again. Get out of Seoul. Go somewhere far away. Start over.”

The thought is almost too good to be true—a life beyond this nightmare. But for the first time in days, you let yourself imagine it.

You smile, small but genuine. “Only if you promise me something too.”

Su-Bong huffs a small laugh, tilting his head. “Anything, Flower.”

The nickname makes warmth bloom in your chest.

“Once we get out… you’ll try to quit drugs.”

He stills. You watch his throat bob as he swallows, the hesitation lingering before he finally exhales.

“…I’ll try.”

His grip on you tightens.

“For you, Flower.”

You close your eyes, holding onto the warmth of his embrace, the quiet promise lingering between you.

You came into this game for money.

But hopefully, you leave with something more.

A/n: hi my lil monsters! How we likey? This request was honestly so adorable and I love the fact of like reader having min-su’s spot bc it’s just honestly something that could be really easy to write about.

Love ya, Twilight

Squid game taglist:

@amoristt @lousypotatoes @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @takuma-talkz @sxmmerchxld @multifandomgirllol @gizaspicebag @truefandemonium

[kats0nlin3]

master of none | eddie munson x fem!reader

summary FWB with Eddie gets messy when feelings are involved. After being ignored at a party, you try to move on—but Eddie isn’t ready to let you go just yet. Tension, jealousy, and a little chaos follow.

warnings nsfw, 18+ only, implied sexual content, FWB, unrequited love, emotional hurt, mild swearing, jealousy, minor violence (Eddie pinning reader to the locker), Y/N

𝜗𝜚

Eddie’s eyes lazily scanned your bedroom, taking in every detail. His gaze lingered on the polaroids strung up above your desk, glowing softly under the fairy lights. The room was a chaotic mix of your personality—pom-poms tossed haphazardly near the closet, clothes spilling out onto the floor from this morning’s outfit search, and posters peeling slightly at the edges. It felt warm, lived-in, unmistakably you.

He hissed through his teeth, a sharp sound cutting through the quiet hum of the room. His fingers gently tangled in your hair, urging your head up from between his legs.

“Careful with the teeth, babe,” he said, voice low but teasing.

Your wide eyes met his as you sat back on your heels, swiping at the few strands of hair clinging to your flushed cheek. You gave him a sheepish smile, cheeks burning.

“Sorry,” you murmured.

Eddie’s lips curled into a lopsided grin, softening the moment. He ran his thumb across your cheek, his touch lingering before you leaned back down, taking him back into your mouth without missing a beat. He sighed, head falling back against the bed frame, eyes fluttering shut as the tension melted from his body.

The quiet didn’t last long. A faint creak from the other side of the wall snapped his eyes open. Shit. He’d almost forgotten—your older brother was home. One wrong move and the door could fly open, leaving him scrambling for excuses that wouldn’t save his life.

Eddie shot upright, muscles tensing as he jerked away from you, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Whoa!” you gasped, bracing yourself with a hand on his thigh. You looked up at him, brow furrowed in concern. “Did I hurt you again?”

“No, you were doing great, babe, but I just remembered… Wayne needed my help with something,” Eddie says, tugging his jeans back up in a hurry, fingers fumbling with the zipper.

Your eyes narrow. “Something?” You cross your arms, head tilting slightly. “Eddie, if you’re not having fun with me, just say it. You don’t have to make up some lame excuse.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, and before you can pull away, he grabs your hands, holding them between his calloused fingers. His touch is warm, grounding, but his words are quick—almost too quick.

“That’s not it at all,” he insists, squeezing gently for emphasis. “I have tons of fun with you, babe. Seriously.”

You raise a brow, unconvinced. “Then why are you always in such a rush to leave?”

Eddie opens his mouth but hesitates. His chest tightens under your gaze. He can’t tell you the truth—that the accidental scrapes of your teeth had killed his mood. He definitely can’t admit that he’s planning to head over to Paige’s later for something a little more… reliable. So instead, he blurts out the first thing that pops into his head.

“It’s your brother.”

Your face twists in disbelief, and you rip your hands out of his grip. “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

“What?! No!” Eddie’s eyes widen in horror. “I just don’t want him barging in here and seeing his baby sister with her mouth stuffed full of my cock! He’ll kill me!”

“You’re being dramatic,” you say, crossing your arms.

Eddie shakes his head, leaning back against your desk. “Your brother specifically made it clear he doesn’t like me.”

“That’s because he just needs to get to know you better,” you counter, tilting your head.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie says with a dry laugh. “Your brother’s… somewhat traditional. How do you think he’d feel if he found out about this little deal between us?”

Ah, yes—the deal.

It all started last summer, a casual arrangement with no strings attached. Friends with benefits. It seemed simple enough at first, fun and exciting. But somewhere along the way, things changed—for you, at least. What was supposed to be casual had turned into something more. You started catching feelings, hoping—praying—that Eddie would eventually feel the same.

Unfortunately, he didn’t.

“I can see whoever I want, whenever I want. He’s not the boss of me,” you declare, arms crossed defiantly.

Before Eddie can respond, a knock on the door cuts through the tension.

“Hey, Y/N, can I come in?” your brother calls from the other side of the door, his voice muffled but unmistakably suspicious.

Eddie’s eyes dart to yours, silently waiting for instructions, his body already halfway tensed to bolt. “We can tell him if you want. It’s your choice,” he offers, voice calm but laced with uncertainty.

You glance at the door, then back at him, rolling your eyes. “Fine. Just hurry up!”

Eddie nods and heads toward your window. You quickly follow, helping him climb out just as your brother knocks again.

“Just give me a second!” you call back, hoping your voice sounds more casual than panicked.

Eddie swings a leg over the windowsill, turning back to grab your hand before disappearing into the night. “There’s gonna be a party at Dan Shelter’s place tomorrow night,” he says, holding your gaze for a second longer than usual. “You should come.”

“I don’t know, Eddie…” you whisper, heart racing as your brother knocks on the door again, harder this time.

“Meet me there?” Eddie says, his voice soft and persuasive. “Let me make it up to you for… you know, cutting things short here?”

You shoot him a look, half-annoyed, half-amused. “If I say yes, will you leave already?”

He grins and leans in, brushing a quick kiss across your lips. “Oh, and about Mrs. O’Donnell’s writing assignment?”

“Yes, yes! I’ll get it done and give it to you first thing Monday morning. Now go!” you urge, glancing anxiously at the door.

Eddie chuckles, clearly enjoying your panic, but pulls you into one last kiss—longer this time, his hand cupping your cheek. For a brief moment, the world outside your bedroom fades away. You’re the one who finally breaks it, breathless and flustered.

“Go!” you whisper again, pushing him toward the window with a laugh.

You quickly fix your hair and smooth your clothes in front of the mirror before opening the door. Your brother stands there, arms crossed, eyes narrowing the second he sees you.

“Hello?” you say, feigning annoyance.

Steve doesn’t wait for an invitation. He pushes his way into your room, his eyes scanning every corner like a detective on a mission. “Who were you talking to?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Hey, Steve, make yourself comfortable. How was my day? Oh, it was good. Thanks for asking,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Steve shoots you a hard look. “Just answer the question.”

“I was on the phone with Robin,” you reply coolly, raising an eyebrow.

“With Robin?” Steve repeats, clearly not buying it.

“Yeah,” you say casually, leaning against the doorframe. “We’re going to a party at Shelter’s house tomorrow night.”

Steve’s eyes narrow. “No, you’re not.” His voice is firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

“What? Why?” you ask, throwing your hands up.

“Dan Shelter is a college student,” Steve says, crossing his arms. “Why are a bunch of high school seniors going to a college party?”

You shrug. “Free booze?”

“Yeah, that’s a no.” Steve glares at you, his protective big-brother mode fully activated.

“I’m not a little 7-year-old, Steve.” you snap, hands on your hips.

“Fine,” Steve says with a shrug. “But I’m coming too.”

“No way! I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Either I come, or you’re not going,” he says firmly, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Your stomach twists. Eddie will be at the party, too. Great. Now you’ll have to figure out a way to sneak off with him—if Steve lets you out of his sight for even a second.

“Okay,” you huff. “But don’t embarrass me. Please.”

Steve smirks. “I’ll be totally chill. It’ll be like I’m not even there!”

Yeah, sure. Totally chill… until he inevitably ruins everything.

⭒ ⭒ ⭒

“I thought you said you knew where you were going!” Robin says, throwing her hands up in frustration.

“Listen, all these houses look the damn same. Can you blame me?” Steve snaps, gripping the steering wheel.

“It’s a big house with drunk college kids throwing up on the front lawn—probably! How is that so hard to spot, Dingus?”

“I’ll turn this car around right now!” Steve threatens, shooting her a glare.

While they bicker back and forth, you sit quietly in the back, eyes focused on the window. Hopefully, Eddie doesn’t think you’ve bailed on him. Lately, it feels like he’s been distant—never staying long after you’ve had sex, his conversations feeling shorter, less warm. You can’t shake the thought that he’s losing interest.

But he did ask you to come. Maybe you’re just overthinking.

The sound of the car door shutting pulls you from your thoughts. Steve’s gone inside the gas station, leaving you alone with Robin.

“Hey, Robin?” you say, leaning closer to the middle console.

She turns toward you, curious. “What’s up?”

“I just want to say thanks for covering for me… and for coming along,” you say, offering a small smile. “You probably had better plans than some lame party.”

“Don’t sweat it! Any chance to get under your brother’s skin is always a pleasure,” Robin replies with a mischievous grin.

You chuckle. “What’s he even stopping for, anyway?”

“Powdered donuts. Says he can’t focus on an empty stomach. I think he’s just asking the cashier for directions so he doesn’t have to admit he’s lost.”

A beat of silence falls between you, the hum of the engine the only sound.

“So… you and Eddie?” Robin says casually, eyeing you through the rearview mirror.

Your stomach drops. The panic must have flashed across your face because Robin quickly adds, “Relax! I won’t tell Harrington anything.”

“How did you…?” you ask, eyes wide.

Robin smirks. “I see you guys hanging out at school every day. Didn’t take long to figure something was up. It’s cute, actually.”

“Yeah?” you say, cheeks warming.

“Eddie seems like a nice guy. I approve,” she says with a nod, then leans in a little. “But if he hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.”

You both chuckle, the tension easing.

Then she raises an eyebrow. “Are you guys… you know? Doing it?”

“Robin!!!” you squeal, face burning as you swat at her arm.

“I’m just making sure that if you are, you’re using protection!” Robin says, wagging a finger at you. “Don’t need a baby Munson running around wreaking havoc on the town.”

You roll your eyes but laugh. “We’re being very careful, just so you know.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

“Okay, Mom,” you joke, shaking your head.

Just then, Steve swings the car door open, his mouth stuffed with two powdered donuts.

Robin scoffs. “What are you, five?”

“What?” Steve mumbles, powdered sugar spraying everywhere.

Robin grabs a napkin from the floor and starts wiping at his shirt, now covered in white powder. “Need me to feed it to you too?”

They immediately start smacking at each other like kids. You lean back in your seat, closing your eyes with a small smile.

Finally arriving at the party, you scan the crowded rooms, searching for him. No sign of Eddie.

Steve spots something—or someone—and gives you and Robin a quick warning not to “act stupid” before disappearing into the crowd. Robin bumps into Vickie and flashes you a grin. “Good luck,” she says before leaving you on your own.

Grabbing a red cup of liquor, you wander through the house, weaving between groups of partygoers. Every so often, you glance into the rooms, still searching for him. It feels like hours have passed before you finally spot him.

Eddie sits on a stool by the kitchen counter, sipping from his own cup. His eyes are scanning the room too—until they land on you. You wave, a big smile on your face.

But then… his eyes widen, and he quickly turns away, pretending not to see you.

The smile fades, replaced by a tight knot in your chest. Someone definitely saw that awkward moment. Heat rushes to your face, a mix of embarrassment and confusion swirling inside you. You take a step forward, ready to confront him—until you see her.

Paige.

She’s standing beside him in a tight red dress that hugs her curves, holding a cup in one hand, her red manicured nails shining under the dim lights. They’re talking, and not once does Eddie look your way.

A few minutes pass, filled with flirtatious smiles and light touches. Then Paige nods toward the stairs. Eddie follows without hesitation.

Shit.

They’re headed your way.

Your feet feel rooted to the floor. Paige glances at you, offering a friendly smile as they pass, but Eddie… he doesn’t even spare you a glance. He keeps his eyes on his drink, brushing past you like you’re invisible. You watch them disappear up the stairs, most likely into an empty bedroom.

Your chest tightens as your mind races.

Why would he invite you here just to blow you off? Did you take too long to get here? Is that why he’s upset? Or maybe… maybe he’s just bored of you. Maybe you were never enough.

“Y/N?” a voice calls out, cutting through the noise.

You flinch.

“Oh shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” says Ross, a member of the Hawkins basketball team. His eyes soften with concern. You’ve had a feeling for a while that Ross might have a thing for you. Unfortunately, you don’t feel the same way.

“Oh, hey, Ross.”

“Hi,” he says, shifting on his feet, his voice a little too soft.

“Hi,” you respond with a polite smile.

“Hi,” he says again, chuckling nervously.

You clear your throat to break the awkward loop.

“Right! Um, I saw your cup was empty, so I brought you a refill. I didn’t spike it or anything!” He winces at his own words. “That sounded wrong. Sorry. I, uh—you don’t have to drink it. I can get you another one if you want.”

You take the drink, already deciding that you’ll probably need a few more to survive the rest of this night. “It’s fine,” you say, trying to sound reassuring.

“Enjoying the party?” Ross asks, shifting his weight nervously.

You glance toward the stairs, still no sign of Eddie. “No, not really.”

“Wanna get outta here?” His tone is cautious but hopeful.

Your frustration boils over. “What, am I just everyone’s easy fuck?” you snap, louder than you intended. “If you’re looking to hook up for the night, it’s not gonna happen, okay? Go find someone else!”

Ross steps back, eyes wide. “Whoa, hey! I didn’t mean it like that. I was just gonna suggest we get a slushee or maybe a slice of pizza. I promise I’m not looking for… anything more than that.”

“Oh.” You sigh, rubbing your temples as the tension drains from your body. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to blow up on you like that.”

“It’s okay!” He flashes a kind smile. “Bad night, huh?”

“You have no idea…” you say softly, sadness slipping into your voice.

Ross watches you for a moment before giving a reassuring smile. He really is kind. Least you can do is take him up on his offer. Oh, what the hell.

“How about I let you pick the flavor of my slushee if I get to choose yours?” you suggest, trying to lighten the mood.

“Deal!” he says, maybe a little too excited, which makes you smile for the first time all night.

“Oh, just one thing… I came here with my brother and his friend. Is it cool if they come too?”

“Sure! I’ll even pay for theirs,” Ross offers confidently.

“Let’s not get too crazy now, Ross,” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckles and gently places a hand on your back, guiding you through the crowded house toward the front door. You don’t look back. Eddie wasn’t coming anytime soon.

⭒ ⭒ ⭒

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie says with his signature grin, leaning casually against the locker next to yours as the passing bell rings.

You scoff, refusing to even look at him as you grab your textbook and notebooks.

“Okay then…” he mutters, confused, before following you down the hallway. “Oh hey, do you have my assignment done by any chance?”

You stop abruptly, turning to face him with disbelief written all over your face. You reach into your bag, pull out the assignment, and shove it hard against his chest.

“Tell your girlfriend Paige to do your assignments next time,” you snap. “Mrs. O’Donnell’s gonna start wondering how an idiot like you is suddenly getting A’s on assignments you couldn’t pass last year. And I’m not taking the fall for your crap.”

You turn on your heel to walk away, but Eddie grabs your arm and gently pulls you back, pressing you against the lockers. His playful tone is gone, replaced by something colder.

“What’s with this little attitude?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

You laugh bitterly. “Wow. You’re really gonna stand there and act like you didn’t completely ignore me at the party? One you invited me to, by the way.”

“Babe, you know I can’t be seen with you when your brother’s around,” Eddie says, trying to soften his tone.

“He wasn’t anywhere near me, Eddie!” you snap. “And all I did was wave at you! I wasn’t exactly asking you to fuck me on the living room table!”

Eddie smirks, leaning in closer. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re a pig!”

“Wait, just hold on a second! I’m sorry, okay?”

He’s got you pinned against the lockers now, his body blocking you from view. Thankfully, the hallway is empty, and no one’s around to expose this secret thing between the two of you. You turn your head to avoid him, refusing to give in so easily.

Eddie gently grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. His brown eyes soften, a mischievous glint still lingering.

“You hate me?” he asks, his bottom lip jutting out in a playful pout.

“No,” you say quietly, your own lip trembling into a small pout.

“You forgive me?” Eddie asks, lacing his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, his eyes watching you carefully.

You sigh, the weight of the party still heavy in your chest. “You went upstairs with her.”

“Babe… it was just a business thing. You know about my side hustle.”

“Then why did it take you so long to come back downstairs?”

“She was a first-time buyer,” Eddie says smoothly. “Had to make sure she knew exactly what she was getting into, the precautions, the usual.”

But that wasn’t the truth at all. Eddie and Paige had spent the night tangled together in every position imaginable until Dan had to kick them out of his room. Even after that, they hadn’t stopped, continuing in the back of his van once the party died down. But he wasn’t about to tell you that.

“So… you love me again?” Eddie asks, batting his eyes at you in an over-the-top attempt to be cute.

You bite your cheek, trying to hold back a smile, and swat at his arm. “I never stopped, idiot.”

“Good.” He grins, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him.

Eddie leans in, pressing his lips against yours, his hands traveling down your back and settling on your ass. You let out a small squeal when he gives it a squeeze.

That’s when you hear it—a loud thud hitting the floor.

You both freeze and turn toward the noise. Standing there, mouth agape, is Dustin, his textbook lying on the ground at his feet.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath.

[spicycinnabun]

@118dailydrabble for day 26 prompt enlist 𖦹 rated: pg 𖦹 pair: bucktommy 𖦹 tags: post-anaesthesia buck, crack

Evan had finally gotten his wisdom teeth out. Tommy hadn’t enlisted Eddie’s help post-surgery. He kinda regretted that decision.

“Evan… why are you shirtless?”

“Hot,” Evan complained.

Tommy could barely understand him beneath all the gauze.

Evan started undoing his pants.

Tommy nearly swerved into traffic. “Whoa! Let’s keep those on.”

“Why?” To Tommy’s horror, Evan’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Don’t you like my body anymore?”

Ah, fuck.

“Of course I do, sweetheart. You just can’t get naked in public.”

Evan’s shoulders slumped. “…Oh.”

Tommy grabbed Evan’s hand with the one not holding the wheel. That, at least, seemed to distract his chipmunk-cheeked boyfriend.

“I love your hand,” he muttered.

“It loves you too,” Tommy replied seriously.

[pupdoc0916]

Memory

Knuckles was always impressed.  He had turned the dining table chair towards the kitchen to have a good view, something he did every Saturday morning.  Eyebrows raised with each flick of the wrist.  His hands tightened gently on the seat of the chair with each movement.  You would think after all this time it would cease to be interesting…but here he was.

He managed to keep himself just to the side, out of the vantage point of the person of interest that he so keenly watched.  His head almost involuntarily cocked to the side as he watched the movements before him.  Eventually the soothing scent of pancakes began to fill his nose.  He sniffed a few times, nose turned toward the ceiling for maximum uptake.  He closed his eyes as he took in the smell, allowing a small smile.  As his body relaxed with the scent there was a small slip of the hand on the chair causing him to lurch forward and creating a soft grating sound as the legs of the chair inched back across the floor from the movement.

He paused, afraid to move a muscle lest he make another noise, muscles taught.  Nothing happened, the quiet remained, only the sound of a sizzling pancake filling the air.  He let out a soft breath and finally began to relax his muscles in relief.

“Knuckles?”

Muscles froze again and as he slowly raised his gaze in horror, his eyes met the chief of the tribe.  He pulled back, almost imperceptibly, under the unexpected scrutiny.  Their eyes locked, his amethyst eyes almost afraid to break contact.  Finally, after a moment, the patriarch’s blue eyes softened and a gentle smile crossed his lips.

“You know…I’ve felt some eyes on me over the past few Saturdays.” Tom spoke, voice light and humorous.  “What’s going on, big guy?”

Knuckles didn’t move, expression tight.  He had a question he wanted to ask, now that he was caught.  A question he never had gained the courage to voice over many weeks of watching.  A  question he still couldn't find the courage to speak.  He drew his head back again, almost sheepishly, allowing his gaze to drop.

He could feel Tom’s eyes on him, reading him, probably judging him.  What a coward he was that he could not voice what he really wanted.

Before he had time to process the movement, Tom had taken a few steps closer, close enough to place a hand on the echidna’s taught shoulder.

“Breakfast isn’t going to be ready for a bit longer.  You know how Sonic is…snoring the morning away.”

Knuckles kept his eyes downcast, feeling a sense of embarrassment settle in.  His gloves gently rubbed together in his lap.  He swallowed hard.

“But, I don’t suppose you’d want to help me?”

The offer had Knuckles snapping his gaze upward, meeting the twinkling eyes of the man in front of him.  He couldn’t stop the sliver of excitement that crossed over him.

“I…I would like that…” he heard himself speaking, voice softer than he had intended.

“Well, alright then!” Tom exclaimed.  “Come!  Enter my kitchen of solitude where I make the magic happen!”

Knuckles slid off the seat, following Tom into the kitchen, a few paces behind.  He couldn’t help but feel a bit excited at the prospect.  He was finally going to get to watch up close.

“So, pancakes…” Tom started, pulling up a stool so Knuckles could reach the stove more easily.  He stepped up without hesitation, taking in the set up in front of him.  A set up he had already memorized with weeks of watching.  “I mixed the batter already, it’s in that bowl.”  He gestured to the bowl to Knuckle’s right.  

“Go ahead and grab the bowl.”  

Knuckles reached forward and picked up the bowl, bringing it closer to the stove.  His tail began to twitch subtly.

“Alright, you take the bowl…”

Tom took his hand and placed it over Knuckle’s wrist to guide his hand to the hot skillet.

“You pick up the spear in the center, tip always pointing forward.  That’s right…”  His father’s hand on his wrist, guiding his hand to the training weapon in front of him.

“Then pour just the right amount…whoa whoa, not too much.  There you go…”  Tom’s hand cupped his gloved hand as he helped him tip the bowl and allow the batter to hit the skillet.

“Place your other hand on the middle to gain control of your weapon…”  Hands larger than his own enveloped his to help him hold the spear.  His small hands tightened over the weapon, his tail wagging with excitement.  “That’s very good, son.”

Knuckles swallowed hard, pushing the memory to the back of his thoughts and refocusing on the task at hand.

“Ok…now we watch until the pancake cooks through.  You’ll know when the top starts to bubble.”

“Now…plant your feet and separate your hands.  This will give you control and strength.”

“Now here’s the fun part.” Tom spoke, drawing Knuckles attention back forward.  His amethyst eyes focused back on the pancake, watching the bubbles rupture and reform over the surface.

“You take the spatula in your hand.”  Tom took his hand and closed his fingers over the handle.  “And you’re going to slide it under the pancake and flip.  The key is to not flip too hard or too high when you’re beginning.  Just a flick of the wrist.  Are you ready?”

“Now you take a step forward and thrust your arms.”  He felt his father’s arms wrap around his tiny frame to grip each of his hands with his own.  His father knelt on his knee so they were both on the same level.  Their cheeks touching, the warmth of his arms, his scent, safety…

Knuckles suddenly dropped the spatula from his grip, clumsily taking a step off the stool next to Tom.

“Hey, buddy, you OK?” the man asked, voice filled with nothing but surprise and concern.  

Knuckles took a few steps back, eyes fixed on pancake in the skillet, the smell of burning batter filling his nose.

“Knuckles, buddy, what’s wrong?”

Knuckles could barely hear him through the buzzing in his ears.  He continued to take small steps in retreat until his back made contact with the wood of the doorway.  The contact snapped him out of his reverie and he shook his head.  His eyes looked up and made contact with Tom’s, filled with nothing but concern and care.

“I…I’m sorry…” he stammered.  Then without another word he turned and ran to the back door, almost running into his matriarch in the process.  She quickly stepped back, avoiding his body as he flew toward the exit.  His hand grabbed the handle, wrenching the door open and he fled, losing himself in the trees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The firm log behind him dug into the skin of his back and his elbows pressed into his knees but he barely paid the discomfort any mind as he rested his head in his hands, shutting out the rest of the world.

His breaths had soothed long ago, but not before they had almost suffocated him with their urgency.  His chest not complying with his body’s orders, his heart threatening to beat through his chest.  It had taken time, but he had been able to gather himself enough to find the oxygen he needed.  And, through his lightheadedness he had found his way to the mossy log behind him, bracing himself against it and wrapping his arms protectively around his head, burying his eyes in his hands and knees.

He had lost track of all time, but his senses could take in the increasing heat on his back as the sun rose through the sky, filtering through the fall leaves.  But he didn’t care.  He continued to hide like the coward he was.

He was so ashamed, letting his feelings catch him like that.  Memories that seeped into his consciousness, immobilizing him, hurting him, breaking him…

What was happening to him?  

For years he had been able to push his feelings, his memories away, locking them away somewhere safe.  Remembering his father was painful.  Remembering his father was a liability as he made his way across the galaxy.

But now…now that his quest was over…now that he had found a new normal…the memories were breaking through, flooding through his defenses and drowning him when he least expected it. 

How was he supposed to go back and face Tom after acting in such a way.  Tom was a gentle and caring person.  He would worry…he probably was worried…with how Knuckles had acted this morning.  But how was he supposed to explain that it was nothing the man had done.  That it was Knuckles’ own head, his own weakness, that caused him to run away.

He was such a coward.

A cold wet pressed into the crook of his elbow pulling Knuckles out of his swirling thoughts.  He started, his head lifting in surprise at the unexpected contact.  His head turned quickly toward the source and he was immediately drown in slobber as a tongue made its way quickly over his face, covering him in the creatures own sense of care.

Knuckles scowled in disgust and pulled his head away, out of range of the exuberant tongue and his eyes met the blank but warm eyes of the resident wolf.  He put his hand up to block the next onslaught of attempted licks, earning him a soft whine and studying eyes.  

“What brought you here, wolf?” he found himself asking, getting nothing back but a blank expression.  Ozzy tilted his head and brought his head forward to nuzzle into the echidna’s side.

“I did.”

Knuckles startled at the new presence, shooting his gaze upward to meet the soft blue of his chief, Tom.  He swallowed hard but did not advert his eyes.  He had already been enough of a coward today.

“Hey, big guy.  Can I sit down?”

Knuckles stared back, taking in the tall form as he slowly made his way closer.  He found himself nodding lightly.

He felt a soft gust of wind as Tom sat down heavily next to him.  He appreciated that Tom had sat just far enough to prevent surprise contact.  Knuckles was unsure if he could handle it in his current tumultuous state.

They sat in silence for moments, the only noise was the panting from the canine near by who refused to leave Knuckle’s free side.  He gave the dog an annoyed look which caused the wolf to push his face further into Knuckles’ glove, begging for pets.

“I hope it’s OK that I came to find you.” the man’s voice cut through the air causing Knuckles’ attention to shift toward him in surprise.  “I just…after this morning…and then you didn’t come home for lunch…”  his voice trailed off.  “I was worried.”

Knuckles grunted softly in acknowledgment.

“I hope I didn’t do anything wrong,” Tom continued to ramble.  “I know we haven’t really…we haven’t gotten very close over the past months.”  Knuckles glanced toward him at his words.  “And it’s OK!” he continued, seeing the shift in the echidna next to him.  “I know you and Maddie…just…she makes you feel comfortable.  And I’m so glad for it.  But…I just want to make sure I haven’t done anything to hurt you…”

The chief’s voice trailed off softly.  Knuckles turned his head fully toward the man at his words.  Tom was looking forward, his eyes watching the leaves swaying, looking anywhere else but where the echidna sat.  Knuckles frowned, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach.  The man thought what happened was due to his actions.  He had never meant for that.

He turned his gaze forward once again, his hands gently wringing together in his lap.  He swallowed hard, trying to find his courage.

“It is nothing you have done, Lord of Donuts.” he spoke softly.  “Nor is it anything you have said.”

He watched the man nod softly out of the corner of his eye.

“I…I’m glad, bud.” he spoke, his blue eyes glancing toward the echidna.  “I just…I want to be your friend.  I want to be someone you can count on and trust.  I feel like I’m failing at that.  But most of all, I do not want to ever make you feel uncomfortable.”

Knuckles swallowed hard, dropping his eyes to the forest floor.  The man was really trying.  And Knuckles had no ill will against him.  It was not the man’s fault that he reminded him of his father…

He took a deep breath, pulling his arms around his chest.

“I do not know how much you know of my past.” he began, voice soft, uncertain.  He did not want to speak of his past, of his memories, but this man had been nothing but kind to him and Knuckles owed him at least an explanation of his troubles.

Knuckles felt blue eyes watching him but could not meet them as he continued.  “I…before my tribe was killed…I…I had my father.”  he couldn’t stop the shake in his voice.  He took another breath, fighting for his courage.  “My mother had died, before I had even hatched from my egg.  My father…he was all I had…he was my whole world.”

A lump had formed at the back of his throat and his eyes began to burn with the shimmer of tears, but he refused to cry.  He clenched his teeth against the pain.

“He was kind, and gentle, and loving.  He always put me first.  He was always on my side.  And he always wanted what was best for me…even if I didn’t recognize it at the time.”  Knuckles let  a sorrowful smile cross his lips.

“You…you remind me of him…greatly…”

He felt the need to pause, allowing his eyes to drift shut.  He took a moment to gather himself.  To feel.  To miss.  To grieve.

Another nudge into his elbow interrupted his attempt at calm and he cracked his eye watching the wolf attempt to push his head through the crook of his arm.  Knuckles pulled his lips together and gave a soft shake of the head, then lifted his arm allowing the dog to move forward, laying his head in the echidna’s lap, tail beating happily against the trunk of the tree.

“I’m sorry.”  Tom said softly, gazing gently at the boy.  “About your father.  I am beyond flattered that you think I’m similar.”  Tom sighed and pushed himself a bit closer, laying a gentle hand on Knuckles’ shoulder.  “I definitely understand now, why you keep yourself distanced.”

The echidna took a deep breath, the unexpected contact of a hand on his shoulder almost jarring.  He tried to swallow down the guilt that rose with Tom’s words.  His eyes drifted closed, as if shutting out the world would shut out the pain.

“I…” he started, getting choked on the lump ever present in his throat.  “I…apologize.”

He felt a shift next to him, causing him to pull his eyes back open.  Tom had nudged himself slightly closer, his penetrating blue eyes looking toward and meeting purple.  He gave Knuckles a soft smile and let out a soft breath.

“First off, you will not apologize.” He started, his voice soft but firm.  “You are allowed to have your feelings and with something this big, it can be hard to figure them out.”

Tom shifted his arm further, now resting across the echidna’s shoulders.  Knuckles tried to remember to breathe.

“Second, I just want you to know…the last thing I want to do is replace your father.  You loved him and you lost him so young.  You are still grieving the loss.  And you never have to think of me that way, not if you don’t want to.  There is no pressure with our relationship.”

Knuckles lowered his head shamefully.  Feelings are not something he allowed to take him over, and yet, his feeling had dictated a distance between him and the man next to him.  A distance that Tom didn’t deserve.

Knuckles finally found the courage to meet Tom’s eyes at his words.  Eyes that held nothing but truth, concern, and understanding.

“I…I do appreciate that.” the lost boy answered truthfully.  “Though I feel I do not deserve your patience.”

The hand on Knuckle’s shoulder gave it a squeeze.  Knuckles swallowed hard, a tightness in his chest forming.  But when he finally trained his gaze back up, a smile met him, reassuring and ever present.

“You deserve everything.” Tom answered.  “You’re a great kid, Knuckles.  And I’m so happy we were able talk about this.  “Thank you…for being so honest with me.”  

The arm that lay around his shoulders, pulled him into a one sided hug.  A warm feeling overtook him and he found himself leaning into the safety it promised.

“Thank you, Tom.  For everything.”

The grin on Tom’s face widened at his words.

They sat quietly for a time.  A man, his son, and their dog.  They let the quiet of the forest settle over them, bringing a new calm, a new understanding.  But all calm must come to an end, in the form of a wayward wolf that began to chase a few of the rustling leaves, introducing a new form of chaos.  Tom chuckled.

“Ready to go home, Red?” he asked, pulling himself to his feet and reaching a hand down toward the boy.  “I believe a pancake lesson still awaits.”

Knuckles let a soft smile form on his lips and he reached up to gently take the offered hand.

“I would like that…Tom.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday morning started like any other.  Knuckles rose early, quietly making his way from the attic so as not to disturb his sleeping brothers.  He made his way to the roof and sat, cross legged, turning his face toward the rising sun.  A ritual that he had come to enjoy, gaining a moment of peace before the house exploded into action.

But today held a greater excitement than normal.  Tom was going to teach him how to make pancakes.  He was going to get to help make breakfast for the first time.  Sunday wasn’t even a normal day for the fine delicacy, but his chief had made an exception just for Knuckles so they could pick up where they left off yesterday morning.

His lesson would be starting soon.  But now, now he could take in the quiet of the emerging day.  A gentle breeze tickled his quills and he took a deep inhale of the chilly morning air.

He could imaging his fathers soft fingers running through his quills.  A deep embrace with the warmth of the rising sun.  A hand lifting his chin with the current of the wind.

And Knuckles didn’t feel melancholy or lost.  He didn’t feel angry and scared.  Knuckles felt peace.  And with that feeling he pulled himself to his feet and made his way to the kitchen.  There were pancakes to be made.

@year-of-the-echidna

[tkingfisher]

The Saga of Bob, Part Four: Feelings Are Weird

Part I

Part II

Part III

(I kinda suggest starting at #1 for Very Important Context, but hey, you do you.)

Transcribers, you continue to rock on toast.

There is certainly no reason I selected this color for this panel what are you implying how dare

The second I said “horror author” she came out with this. Techs are great.

Potala Palace is 12,300 feet (3750 meters) above sea level.

I realize this last feels like a cliffhanger, but it’s one for me, too. The thyroid people are short-handed and it’s still another two weeks, at the time of posting, until they take a look at it. (I have been told that thyroids sprout nodules like whoa, that thyroid cancers are super treatable, and that it probably is nothing to worry about. Me, I just wonder if my body is collecting these like Pokemon.)

Tune in next time for Part 5, same crab time, same crab channel!

[foxy-eva]

Only Yours

Summary: After getting jealous at work Spencer reminds his girlfriend who she belongs to

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader, secret relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, mild degradation/dumbification, teasing, oral (both receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex

Word count: 2.7k

Masterlist

There were only two more hours left until you could finally leave after another day of paperwork. You didn’t mind being stuck at your desk, not with Spencer sitting right across from you, making eye contact and smiling at you every now and then. Concealing your relationship status while being surrounded by profilers was challenging but in those past few months of being with Spencer, you had become an expert at controlling your micro expressions at work. 

Spencer tried to do the same but something very interesting didn’t remain unnoticed to your trained eye. Whenever more than two weeks passed by without being able to be alone with him, you caught him randomly glimpsing at the curves of your body almost blatantly. He hadn’t noticed you looking up from your computer, watching him as he stared at the swell of your breasts, deep in thoughts or even fantasies. 

Smirking to yourself, you decided to have some fun teasing your boyfriend. You placed your fingers on the neckline of your blouse, tracing the fabric until you found the first button to toy with it. That seemed to snap Spencer out of his reverie, his eyes shooting up to yours while a rosy shade spread over his cheeks. 

You winked at him right before he averted his eyes, audibly clearing his throat as he tried to focus back on the files in front of him while shifting in his seat. Feeling a bit cocky, you decided to go over to his desk to be close enough to tease him some more without risking someone else hearing you. 

There was a little too much enthusiasm in your movement, causing you to bump into Emily as you shot up from your desk and stepped aside. You felt cool liquid spilling all over your top before you saw the now empty glass of water in your coworker's hand and the horror in her eyes. Looking down your body you found the light gray fabric of your blouse completely soaked and appearing sheer as it stuck to your chest, the black lace of your bra clearly visible. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” Emily exclaimed and added, “I’m getting you a towel!”

You started laughing and thanked the universe that you wore a bra today, finding the whole situation more comical than embarrassing. Derek got up from his seat and moved over to you, raising one eyebrow as he looked you up and down. 

“Whoa, are we having a Wet-T-Shirt contest I didn’t know about?” He teased. 

You shook your head and laughed, “Only in your dreams, Derek!”

“Yeah, you bet!” He chuckled before being playfully hit on his arm by Emily who just came back with a towel. 

You took it from her and started to dry your blouse off as best as you could, glancing over at Spencer who was staring at you with furrowed brows and a slack jaw. Derek followed your line of sight and smirked.

“I think pretty boy’s brain is glitching.” 

Spencer hissed, “Shut up,” in Derek’s direction and looked back down at the report in front of him. There was no need to be a profiler to tell that Spencer was angry but you couldn’t be sure whether it was directed at you or at the situation in general. All this commotion quickly simmered down with everyone returning back to their desks. 

Just like before you looked up from your computer every once in a while but unlike earlier, Spencer’s eyes were never on you for the rest of the workday. After he put away the last of his files he packed up his things and walked over to your desk. You had finished your last report twenty minutes ago and waited for him to be ready.

He smiled at you and wondered, “Do you need help finishing up?”

You shook your head and grabbed your bag, ready to leave work for the day. Since you lived in the same part of the city, the two of you had been carpooling for months, not raising any suspicions from your coworkers when you left together. 

Sitting in the passenger seat of your car, Spencer was concerningly quiet but seemed agitated, constantly shifting and running his hands through his hair. You took in a deep breath before you dared to break the silence. 

“What’s going on?” You wanted to know. 

“It’s just that… I didn’t like the way Derek looked at you earlier. I wish I could have said something,” he confessed. 

You didn’t want to downplay his feelings but you felt the need to remind him, “You know how he is. He just loves teasing and flirting. You have heard the way he talks to Penelope.”

“I know,” he admitted, “It’s just that today you…you looked so…,” he paused for a moment. A sigh rolled over his lips before he mumbled, “So sexy.”

You weren’t ready to let it go just yet, snickering, “I see. So you don’t like when I look sexy?”

“Of course I do! I just don’t want Derek to look at you like that.”

The car came to a halt at a red light. You knew exactly what you were doing when you looked at him and purred, “Maybe you should remind me who I really belong to.”

His demeanor changed in an instant, his eyes getting darker while he licked his lips as he let his eyes wander over your body. When he met your eyes again he asked, “Is that what you want?” 

The traffic light switched to green and you whispered, “Yes,” before setting the car in motion again. 

Images of past moments you spent with him flashed through your mind, causing your heart to race and your insides to tingle. You knew not to expect him to do anything while you were driving but your whole body was yearning for his touch and the few minutes separating you from the privacy of your own home seemed endless to you.

The anticipation only grew after finally making it to your apartment. 

Spencer took his time to remove his coat and shoes. He liked to keep you waiting, to make you prove your patience. A smirk was prominent on his face as he looked at you, by now practically buzzing with tension as you waited for him to take the lead. And he did, with harsh hands grabbing your face and hungry lips meeting yours, kissing you with a fervor that made you feel light-headed. 

His tongue didn’t hesitate to seek entrance, brushing against yours while your hands gripped his shirt to keep you steady. The way he kissed you made your head spin and let every rational thought leave your mind. You were relieved that he took the lead, glad that you didn’t have to think for once. Following his demands was all you had to do for the rest of the night. 

Your bodies pressed into each other, displaying affection and lust with panties getting damp and a hardness straining against its confines. Spencer suddenly let go of you, moving to your bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed, having you follow him without question. You stood in front of him, waiting for his next move as you watched him remove his tie and shirt.  

“Take your clothes off,” he ordered. 

His eyes never left your body while you slowly removed every piece of fabric. Unabashedly, his gaze wandered over every curve and dip of your skin while he licked his lips as if he was ready to devour you. His obvious desire ignited a fire inside you, heat rushing through you as he beckoned you closer with his forefinger. 

Completely bare you stood in front of him, his fingertips brushing over the skin of your thighs and hips, repeatedly skipping over your aching center until your knees felt weak. He placed a soft kiss right beneath your navel and mumbled, “You’re so beautiful,” against your skin. 

He looked up at you with the utmost adoration in his eyes when he said, “Just tell me to stop and we will. Do you understand?”

You nodded and added, “Yes,” to reassure him. 

Once he had your consent he harshly grabbed your hips to pull you down, urging you to kneel on the floor in front of him. Doe-eyed you looked up at him as his thumb traced the seam of your lips. 

“Such a pretty mouth,” he cooed, “now be a good girl and show me how it feels wrapped around my cock.”

Your hands instantly flew to his pants, undoing them quickly and removing them until his erection was finally free from its confines. 

“Such an eager girl,” he chuckled at your enthusiasm. “Doing everything she’s told.”

You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and kissed his tip before letting your tongue glide along the vein on the underside. Soft lips brushed over velvety skin, not letting any part of him unkissed. You felt him twitching and knew he would get impatient soon if you didn’t grant him what he asked you to. However, you hadn’t been with him for so long and wanted to relish this moment, so you kept tenderly kissing every bit of him. 

“Don’t be a tease,” he finally warned. “You know how to do this, don’t you?” 

Keen on pleasing him you wrapped your lips around him, sinking down as far as your throat would allow it. Spencer threw his head back, involuntarily bucking his hips up, pushing further into your mouth as he groaned. You moved your lips along his hardness, feeling how he tensed underneath you, his chest heaving and hands gripping the sheets. 

He lowered his eyes to look at you and when he found you still staring up at him you felt him throbbing against your tongue. 

“Fuck!” he panted, “You look so good with my cock in your mouth.”

Seeing him lose himself at your ministrations made your core ache. When he came close to his breaking point his hands flew to your hair, grabbing it roughly to pull you off him. His length was glistening with your saliva, still hard and waiting to find release. Spencer made it clear that he was not done with you yet. With his hands on your arms he helped you get up from the floor. 

Just like before you stood in front of him with him still sitting on the edge of the bed. One of his hands made contact with your heat without a warning, collecting your slick as his fingers glided through your folds. His touch was too light to actually grant you any relief, having you rock against his hand in an attempt to get what you were hoping for. 

“Please,” you whimpered. 

“You’re dripping wet,” he chuckled as he pulled his hand back, inspecting his glistening digits. 

He got up from the bed to stand in front of you, bringing his hand to your face to show it to you as well. 

“Look what I’m doing to you,” he teased. “Already a mess before I have even touched you.” 

Without thinking about it, you grabbed his wrist and brought his fingers to your mouth, sucking them clean from your own arousal while never breaking eye-contact. Spencer groaned at your action and for a second the lines of who was in charge seemed to blur. Not for long though, after a moment he pulled his hand back and grabbed you by your shoulders to guide you onto the mattress.

He joined you on the bed and started kissing you before he left your mouth to explore your neck instead, biting and licking sensitive skin as he moved further down your body. He took his time to caress your breasts, kissing soft skin and licking over hardened peaks, eliciting the sweetest sounds from your throat. For a moment you wondered if this was what he was thinking about when you caught him staring at you earlier. 

The more desperate you got, the slower Spencer seemed to move down your body and the fire burning between your legs became almost unbearable. When he finally was where you wanted him, you eagerly opened your legs for him, allowing him to settle between them and continue his kisses on the insides of your thighs. He took his time to caress every inch of skin except from where you wanted to feel him the most. 

“Please,” you pleaded, hoping he would understand what you wanted. 

He chuckled at your request and cooed, “You can’t think of anything else anymore, huh?”  

You were getting frustrated with him, the throbbing in your core aching to be soothed. His lips got closer to where you wanted him, his breath hot against even more heated skin, but he decided to turn his attention back to your thigh once more. You couldn’t take it for much longer. 

“Fuck, Spencer I’m begging you!” 

In an instant his mouth was where you wanted it, ending his teasing at last as his tongue glided through your folds before focussing on your bundle of nerves. He seemed determined to grant you release without any more diversions. You ground your hips against his face while singing his praise in the forms of moans and sighs rolling from your lips. 

Two of his fingers began thrusting into you while his tongue flicked over your pearl, sending you in a state of pure bliss. All the built up tension was begging to be released as you chased your ecstasy. Your walls clenched around his fingers, holding onto him tightly right before they started to pulsate. Almost erratically you rocked against his tongue, riding out your high until you relaxed underneath him at last. 

Spencer repositioned himself, leaning over you and propping himself up on his forearms before gently kissing your lips. He gave you a moment to catch your breath before reaching between your bodies to position himself at your entrance and pushing into you slowly. Your body welcomed him without any resistance, letting him fill you out completely. 

As he started to move, you closed your eyes, indulging in the sensation of being one with him. 

“He can dream of you all he wants,” Spencer suddenly groaned, having you open your eyes and look at him. 

It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, having long forgotten everything that had happened today. 

Spencer thrusted into you harder now, accelerating his pace before he continued, “He can dream of you but he will never know what it’s like to have you.”

He leaned down to kiss you hastily while pushing into you at a relentless pace. 

“What it’s like to kiss you,” he added, “to feel you… to taste you.”

He looked down to where your bodies were joined, watching his cock disappearing inside of you over and over again.

“What it’s like to fuck you,” he panted against your lips before kissing you once more. 

“I’m yours, Spencer,” you mumbled against his mouth, “I’m only yours.”

The whole bed shook at the force of his movements, your body starting to tremble underneath him as you reached another high, your throbbing center guiding him towards his own climax. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he fucked you hard against the mattress, whispering, “You’re mine,” into your ear several times until he let himself fall apart and spill his release into you. 

As he came down from his high he pushed himself up to be able to look at you. Gently he placed his lips on yours before he whispered, “And I’m yours.” 

His body was covered in a sheen of sweat, his hair disheveled and cheeks tinted red but you could have sworn he had never looked more beautiful than in this moment. Your hand found his face, tenderly brushing a stray curl aside while you smiled at him.

“I like the sound of that,” you purred as you pulled him back down into your embrace. 

It took him a moment to even out his breathing while he lay completely jaded inside your arms. Lazily he peppered the side of your face with kisses while your fingertips drew comforting circles on his back. You didn’t want to move, not even when Spencer had long gone soft and the mixed remains of your desire started dripping out of you. 

Neither of you dared to separate what belonged together, so you stayed safely secured inside each other's arms for a little while longer.

If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fics in my NSFW Masterlist!

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @spookydrreid @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @s4r4hsblog @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @reaux02 @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @amititties @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey

Join my taglist here

[pawsthatcausechaos]

I would love to see a horror/thriller movie where a group of teenage humans read a book and find out about alterhumans and to goes something like this:

Girl: whoa...this book is interesting...

Girl's friend: why? what's it about?

Girl: it says that there are creatures living amongst us that are trapped within human bodies, they're said to have souls out of the ordinary...some wolves...others dragons...and even literal Voids! They're said to be waiting for the day where they'll be freed from They're human chambers...They're known as...alterhumans.

Girl's friend: ...that's scary...

Jock: pfft, don't worry it's only a myth.

And they're will be signs all around the forest that look like these:

[nimbusclan]

Moon 5 Part 3

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

Live in the Northeastern USA and want to save endangered golden eagles? Visit this link to see what you can do to help, or donate here!

----

“The nose knows,” Moonstar boasts loftily as she follows the scent of bird over the crest of a cliff and into a nest large enough to easily fit her and her brother, who climbs up beside her a moment later.

“Ha! As if we couldn’t see this massive nest from halfway across the mountain before we even got up here,” Fogfreckle snorts, his eyes going wide as they land on the two cream colored eggs nestled together in the middle of the messy bundle of twigs and feathers. Light glints off of their speckled shells, gleaming in the Greenleaf sun. “Whoa, they’re huge! And look - one for each of us!”

“All thanks to my incomparable scenting skills,” Moonstar insists, muzzle curling up into a playfully smug expression that she knows will get under Fogfreckle’s pelt.

“Sure,” He grins back, expression going just as playful. There’s a teasing shine in his eyes. “Incomparably foxdu–”

Moonstar inhales loudly through her nose to press her point, inadvertently drawing a bit of loose, fluffy down towards her that sticks to her wet nose. Her eyes cross as she attempts to look down at it, rearing back a little in surprise. The down feather is tipped gold and sticks fast, following her as she pulls back.

Fogfreckle laughs, nearly falling backwards out of the nest. “You’ve got a little something,” he snickers, “to the left–”

A sharp, stuttered cry from above slices across the cliffside, silencing Fogfreckle mid sentence. The sound lances through Moonstar, freezing her heart.

Ears pinned back in terror, Moonstar flattens herself against the floor of the giant nest, squinting past the glare of the sun to see an eagle diving towards them. Moonstar spares a half-second glance at the eggs that were going to be her and Fogfreckle’s breakfast and thinks, briefly, mousedung. This must be a mother in fierce protection of her babies. Her feathers shine burning gold in the sunlight. 

They should have just rolled the eggs out of the nest and left - they shouldn’t have been joking around like this; like kits. She’s the leader, for StarClan’s sake - she should know better. She should have done better.

The width of the massive bird blots out the sun; a giant, winged shadow that dwarfs the two cats. Moonstar is frozen in fear, her mind all at once racing and yet painfully blank. She doesn’t know what to do, there’s too many things to do, too many plans of action, and she can’t make herself move to act on any of them. Fogfreckle is stiff against her side.

As the eagle dives closer, she can see the slanted amber of its furious eyes. Quite suddenly, as Moonstar is bracing for impact, the eagle takes a bank left, predatory gaze shifting to her brother, extends its talons, and descends upon him in a frenzy of flapping feathers and unholy screeching.

Fear and rage at last boiling over inside of her, Moonstar’s muscles unfreeze and allow her to launch into action, screeching at the bird and slashing at it in an attempt to shoo it away from Fogfreckle. Blood thunders in her ears, the cacophony of Fogfreckle’s hissing shrieks and the bird’s cries sharp against her eardrums. She can't tell if her blows are even landing, or if Fogfreckle is holding his own. The giant bird's wings are everywhere, battering against her face and throwing up loose feathers and down from the nest that cloud the air.

Fogfreckle yowls as the bird sinks sharp claws into his back, and lifts his writhing, twisting body into the sky with powerful strokes of her wings. Moonstar jumps after the bird, horrified, screaming for her brother, but her outstretched claws don’t reach. She lands in the nest, hard, twigs snapping under her weight, and watches in open mouthed horror as the bird lifts her brother higher in the sky.

He twists in her grasp, a furious scream ripping from his throat, and slashes his claws along her belly. The eagle shrieks in pain and releases Fogfreckle, who falls, and falls, and falls.

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

[rahuratna]

To you, young sorcerer

Happy Father's Day to all the Dads, including anime Dads. And Nanami Kento, of course.

Nobara hated this. For most other girls, it was a natural process, a part of life to be embraced, an inconvenience you groaned about to your girlfriends as you rummaged through your bag for a tampon. For her, it interfered with training. It might even be a hindrance on missions, where she might not be in the best physical condition, where every little ache and pain her body inflicted upon her could mean the difference between life and death.

Gritting her teeth, she made her way into the hallway of the main building of Jujutsu Tech, taking a shortcut to the student dormitories, even if it meant tracking mud and debris from her training session with Panda all across the pristine wooden floors. Her abdomen had been plagued with discomfort all afternoon, and now, after that particularly rigorous regimen Panda had put her through, the cramps were returning with a vengeance.

Even worse, another side effect, one she detested the most, was making itself known. Frustration, anger, resentment against her own body for failing her in this way, were all boiling up inside her in a way that made her throat tight and her eyes sting.

One hand on her belly, squinting slightly as another wave of pain assailed her, Nobara shuffled through the hallway, hellbent on reaching her room where a nice hot shower, some painkillers and the soft embrace of her blankets awaited her.

There were voices behind her now. It sounded as if Yuuji and Inumaki had completed their own session and were returning to the dorms as well. Nobara could hear Yuuji enthusiastically outlining his new method of deflecting attacks to his quiet companion, punctuated by the occasional "salmon", "fish flakes" or "salmon roe". Yuuji spotted her and she groaned internally.

"Hey, Kugisaki! Wanna hear about my new technique?"

"Not right now. Read the room."

"Whoa, you look ... not so great. You okay?"

She grunted as a way of reply.

"What's up? You not feeling too good?"

As well-meaning as Yuuji was, he really didn't know when to step back from a situation. Nobara didn't have the energy to whack him upside the head like she usually did, though. To her horror, the constricting sensation in her throat was coiling like a vice, the burn behind her eyes growing stronger. A single, fat tear slipped traitorously from her lash line, tracking down her cheek.

Yuuji looked horrified, and Inumaki, eyes wide above his collar, was rooted to the spot, neither boy sure what had brought this on. Hands flapping helplessly, Yuuji took a step towards her.

"Uhh, Kugisaki? Was it something I said? I'm really sorry if -"

"It's not you, idiot," Nobara muttered, hands scrubbing furiously at her eyes.

"What's going on here?"

Oh, for the love of God.

She had learned to recognize that clipped, smooth baritone from the time the sorcerer in question had been designated as Yuuji's mentor on some missions when Gojo wasn't available.

Nanami Kento, grade one sorcerer, wielder of the seven : three ratio technique. Nobara didn't know much about the man, having interacted with him only a few times. She knew that he was strict, no-nonsense, a stickler for propriety and good conduct, rather dour and gloomy if what Gojo described was accurate. Used to be a salaryman. He certainly looked like the kind of man who could blend into any boardroom, with his tan business suit and perfectly parted blonde hair.

He was now eyeing her from behind those reflective shades, taking in her bedraggled appearance, the leaves and mud on her clothing and hair, the hand clutching at her abdomen, the tear-streaked face. She wondered, momentarily, if he was going to dismiss her as yet another weak, female sorcerer with aspirations far higher than her ability. The thought made a fresh wave of frustration rise in her chest, moistening her eyes once again.

Nanami turned, expression unchanged, and addressed the boys.

"You two go and get supper at the canteen. Kugisaki, with me please."

He began to make his way out towards the student dorms, not bothering to check if she was following. Grumbling slightly, Nobara complied.

"Don't need an escort," she muttered.

"I'm aware."

"Then - "

"How bad are the cramps?"

She stared at the back of his head. Nanami paused and turned towards her slightly, one eyebrow raised.

"Well?"

"Uh ... pretty bad."

"Hmm."

He resumed his walk, and she followed, almost in a trance. Nanami spoke again, voice quiet and measured, before she had a chance to put words to her query.

"I had a friend, when I studied here at Jujutsu Tech. He had a sister who he was very close to. He used to visit her in the countryside, and they looked after each other. He could always recognize when she needed help of this sort. He told me everything. I had no choice but to listen. He was ... a talker."

"Oh, I see. What kind of stuff did he mention?"

"Many things. The kind of tea that eased her pain. The stretches she liked to perform. The bath salts he used to purchase for her from the store at the shrine. The food she liked to eat."

In spite of herself, Nobara quirked a small smile.

"Sounds like ... a pretty good guy."

"He was."

She was silent for a minute, taking in the tense with which Nanami had referred to his friend.

"Did he - "

"Yes. Many years ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"No need. We all know the dangers of this profession. Haibara knew too."

They'd reached the dorms and Nanami opened the door, motioning her through. Somehow, coming from him, the gesture didn't seem condescending. She stepped through and he followed, moving off to the side into the small kitchenette that was reserved for the students' use.

Nobara hovered awkwardly in the doorway, wondering what she was supposed to say next. Nanami was busying himself with the cupboards, boiling water and pulling open the fridge. He glanced over and she realised that, at some point, he had removed the shades that normally concealed his stern gaze.

"Go and get yourself cleaned up. Then come back to the kitchen when you're done."

"Um, sure. Goodnight, Nanami."

"Oh, and Kugisaki?"

"Yes?"

"You're a strong and capable young sorcerer. We all have moments of weakness. From time to time, remember to let yourself be. We are sorcerers, but we're also human. Sometimes, recalling that simple fact is enough to hold your mind together when nothing else will."

Nobara's throat was tightening once again, but this time, she felt little to no shame. She was beginning to realise that the sorcerers who were responsible for them knew exactly what they were talking about. No wonder he had come across as so perceptive. How many nights had he spent, alone, in pain, wishing he were stronger, better, wishing that the boy who once smiled alongside him was still amongst the living? How weak had he felt, back then? Had he wished an adult had said these very words to him?

"I'll remember that. Thank you, Nanami."

"Goodnight, Kugisaki."

After a long, hot bath, Nobara changed into her most comfortable pyjamas and slowly made her way back to the kitchen, as Nanami had instructed. As ridiculous as it sounded, she felt a small sense of nervous anticipation. What had he done in there?

Entering, the scent of something delicious made her mouth begin to water. There, on the stove top, bubbling merrily in a small cast iron dish, was a cheese and corn, green onions snipped neatly as garnish over the top. Covered dishes of miso soup and rolled omelette with diced vegetables stood to the side, still steaming slightly. In a pot on the stove, next to the cheese and corn, Nobara sniffed out something warm and herbal, some kind of tea blend.

Mood lifting immediately, Nobara set the table and dug into the food. As simple as the fare was, it was exactly the kind of comfort food she had been craving. Right then, it tasted like a five-star meal to her.

As she polished off the last of her food and gathered all the dishes together to wash up, she noted that her cramps had eased considerably, probably due to the warm bath, the medication and her satiated appetite. Soap forming soft suds under her fingers, Nobara surprised herself by humming slightly.

Nanami had certainly turned out to be different than she'd expected. From the little she'd seen of his interactions with Yuuji, she had assumed that he was quite a cold person.

She remembered, in that moment however, that Yuuji had never had a single bad thing to say about Nanami. Granted, Yuuji was one of the most accepting and easy-going people she knew, but there was a certain admiration and respect evident in his voice when he spoke about Nanami that she hadn't noticed in his descriptions of other people.

She was beginning to see why.

Leaving the dishes to dry on the rack, she poured out the remaining tea and carried the cup to her room. The porcelain was warm, steady and comforting between her fingers, like his eyes had been in the dim light of the kitchenette. She had never seen him without his glasses before.

Growing up in that small village, Nobara had learned to prize a particular quality above all others, one that she would now add to the growing list of words she could use to describe Nanami Kento.

Kindness. 

[louiseolivier]

An Unintended Surprise

AO3 link

Buck took a deep pull from a bottle of champagne. It wasn’t his first choice to get alcohol into his bloodstream. Hell, it wasn’t his sixth, but he was pretty well buzzed, so it no longer mattered what was in the bottle. The party was over. Their guests had all gone home, but plates and cups were scattered on every flat surface, and balloons littered the floor. Buck kicked some of the balloons, sending them bouncing around Tommy’s living room. Their living room. Buck took another slug of champagne and caught sight of Tommy. He sat, slouched low in his favorite oversized club chair, legs splayed wide, and watched Buck with heavy-lidded eyes. Buck’s brain short-circuited. He blinked and pulled the bottle away from his mouth, but he didn’t tip it up fast enough, and the fizzy liquid splashed down his chin and soaked into the button-up he was wearing.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stumbled towards Tommy, almost wiping out on one of the balloons he kicked. He handed the bottle to Tommy once he was close enough. Buck dropped to his knees between a set of thick, powerful legs. “Were you su-suprised, Captain Kinard?” Buck grinned provocatively at his boyfriend and relished using the new title as his thumbs ran along the inside of Tommy’s thighs.

Tommy sipped from the bottle and gave a slow nod. To anyone else, his face read as impassive, but his pupils were blown wide, and he was sporting an impressive hardon that was straining against his dress pants.

Buck’s eyes darted between Tommy’s face and his crotch, torn on where to start. He wanted that armadillo dick in his mouth, in his ass. He wanted Tommy to flip him onto his stomach and fuck him right there in the living room. He bent down and ran his cheek against the hard length, mouth opened to feel the rigidity brush his lips.

Tommy let out a low hum and took a fistful of Buck’s hair, tugging at it. Buck’s dick jerked, and he felt wetness spread in his underwear. Buck moaned, “Daddy.”

“I’m gonna fuck you sloppy, Evan. You’re not going to be able to close up after.”

“Yes,” Buck hissed and pressed his face more forcefully into Tommy’s massive cock.

Between that exchange came a loud, “Whoa!” that reverberated through the room. Then a thud happened to their left, like a body hitting the floor. Their heads turned and they found a body had hit the floor. It was Eddie, who rolled off the couch, mouth agape, looking at them in wide-eyed horror.

“What the fuck?!” Buck’s head jerked back, but Tommy still had a hand in his hair, and it hurt like hell. “Shit! Tommy!”

Tommy blinked at him slowly, and Buck realized Tommy was a lot drunker than he thought. After a couple of seconds of connecting words to brain to action, Tommy let go. “Sorry,” he mumbled, eyes sagging. Buck glanced down and spared the quick thought of being impressed that Tommy was still hard despite how inebriated he was. And then he remembered Eddie was still in the room.

“What are you doing here?” Buck asked, his voice high and thin.

“Dude, I’m your guest. You invited me, remember? You picked me up from the airport this morning. I blew up half these stupid balloons!” Eddie pushed himself onto his knees, catching one of the balloons and popping it.

Tommy jerked, arms flailing. He caught sight of Eddie and smiled. “Hey, man! When did you get here? Did you come for the party?” He ruffled Buck’s hair. “This guy. He’s too good for me.” Tommy’s head then tilted back, and he closed his eyes.

“Where’s my phone?” Eddie asked, staggering to his feet.

“Wait, why?” Buck asked, also getting up.

“Buck, no offense, but I just heard some shit that I can’t unhear. I’m going to get an Uber and stay with Bobby and Athena tonight before the two of you really get going.”

Buck glanced at Tommy, whose chin was against his chest and snoring softly. Buck gave a disappointed sigh, and put a hand on Eddie’s arm to stop him from pulling up another couch cushion. “Nothing more is going to happen tonight.” Buck gestured to his sleeping boyfriend.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.

“I swear. He’s all talk in this state.” Buck glanced at Tommy’s lap, only slightly sad to see his erection had flagged. He was looking forward to getting dicked down. “Can you help me get him to bed? His dead weight just seems so much denser than others.” It was deeply annoying, since even sober, it made for a less-than-smooth transition when he wanted to sweep Tommy off his feet.

Eddie huffed, but Buck knew he’d help when his shoulders sagged in defeat. Buck turned and crouched down next to Tommy. “Hey, Tommy? We’re going to get you to bed, but we need you to wake up and help out for a minute, okay?”

Tommy’s head swayed up. His eyes blinked open, and he groggily looked at Buck. He licked his lips and cupped Buck’s cheek. “You’re going to take me to bed?”

“Yeah,” Buck nodded. He pulled Tommy’s arm around his shoulders and hefted him to his feet.

“Are you going to be a good boy?” Tommy, with his free hand, pressed two fingers into Buck’s mouth. “Are you going to be Daddy’s perfect little cock warmer?”

Buck’s eyes went wide with shock while Eddie made a high-pitched choking sound and muttered a sharp, “Jesus.”

It caught Tommy’s attention. His fingers pulled from Buck’s lips, and his head, along with his body, wildly swung towards Eddie. “Eddie! When did you get here, man?”

Eddie stepped close, stabilizing Tommy’s other side just in time for Tommy’s chin to drop. “Is it because he’s drunk, or is this how you guys talk to each other when no one’s around?”

“We have a very healthy and fulfilling sex life,” Buck said defensively. Was it optimal for Tommy to inadvertently air out their kinks? No, but Buck wasn’t going to apologize for it either.

“Clearly,” Eddie deadpaned. “Look, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. I’m happy for you, truly, but maybe it’s for the best if Chris and I stay at a hotel when we come up for his summer vacation.”

They stagger a few more steps before Buck pulled them to a halt. “Seriously? Eddie, this kind of thing is an outlier! We’re not animals. We can control ourselves!”

“Hey, look at it this way. You and Tommy can have unfettered access to each other in the comfort of your own home, and Chris gets unfettered access to room service and a hotel pool.”

They stare at each other, Eddie, with an expression of sincerity and Buck with one of disbelief. Seconds ticked by, and then Eddie's serene facade began to crack. His lip twitched, and both friends started to chuckle, jostling Tommy between them. “You had me for a minute,” Buck said with a shake of his head.

“Come on, man, you think I can afford that? No. You two horndogs are going to have to learn to keep it to the bedroom for a week.”

Tommy woke up and added his own chuckle to the tail end of theirs. He looked at Buck and asked, “Why are we laughing?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning, Captian, oh my Captian,” Buck told him fondly.

Tommy hummed, his eyes darting to Buck’s mouth. “In the morning, I’m going to tongue fuck you so hard you'll piss yourself.”

To their left, Eddie let out a meep sound, catching Tommy’s ear. He turned and grinned brightly at their terrorized houseguest. “Eddie! When did you get here?”