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#drop him from your fandom activities
mean-vampyre · 3 months
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Don't "noo please not neil" or "the only man I trusted" it, that man is on tumblr because he loves the mass of adoring fans screaming about his genius. He is not a down to earth quirky blogger, he is the stereotype of asshole author that takes advantage of people blinded by his fame
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timeisacephalopod · 7 months
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Every once and awhile I rewatch Hbomberguy's video on why BBC Sherlock sucks because it's cathartic as someone who never really liked BBC Sherlock.
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Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋
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Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋
Note: The fic gets a bit saucy, so A18+ ONLY just to be safe!
Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out
CW: MDNI!, kissing, making out, boobs, fondling, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon
Link to My Master List
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Its mid-afternoon in the UA library. The early Spring sunlight is streaming through the tall windows and across the sci-fi novel you're flipping through. You sigh; content to finally have a Saturday off after a grueling few weeks of classes, training and internship activities.
You think back to a particularly tough training session that had taken place the day before - you had finally kicked Shoto Todoroki's ass in front of the whole class. You smile as you remember the shocked look on his face as you reached down to help him back to his feet.
"You had it coming, hot stuff." You winked as he grabbed your hand and let you pull him back to standing position. His face had flushed red in humiliation at the loss.
You're suddenly jerked out of your reverie when a figure looms over you, casting a long shadow on the desk before you. You turn, startled. As if pulled from your daydream, Shoto Todoroki has materialized before you – tall and handsome. You look up at him in surprise, mouth half open.
"I think we should kiss." Shoto's deep voice says above you, his tone neutral.
"Huh?" Your mouth drops fully open. Shoto is looking down at you with eyes alight with determination. That cute blush is back - splashed across his pale cheeks and across his aristocratic nose.
"I was thinking back to our fight yesterday, and the reason why I lost. It was because I was thinking about kissing you the whole time. I let myself get distracted. I think that if we kissed, I could get over it and refocus on training." So matter-of-fact! That was one thing you liked about Shoto - he was straightforward.
"Um...okay." With an effort, you close your gaping mouth. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Shoto has never shown any romantic interest in you before. You’ve never caught wandering eyes on you in class, he’s never stashed a love note in your locker. None of the typical school love tropes have been leveraged here. If anything, the two of you are loose acquaintances on the cusp of being friends. Maybe a few more months of class and group activities together would have helped you bridge the gap and fully form a decent friendship.
You wonder if he’s been into you all this time, or if this is just a whim he’s exploring. Either way - who are you to let an opportunity to kiss a hot guy go by the wayside? You snap your book shut and stand. "You want to do this right now?"
Shoto nods, and turns to walk away with the expectation that you’ll follow. You get up and sweep your things into your bag, heart beating double time. You quickly jog to catch up with Shoto – he’s already out the door. The two of you walk across the UA grounds in silence, your footsteps falling into a soft rhythm.  Your mind is going at a million miles per minute – could this all be an elaborate prank? Shoto has never struck you as the type to play a cruel joke on a classmate. Quite the opposite – when he’s not training he seems so soft and sweet. He strikes you as more of an introvert than anything else. He keeps people at a safe distance. You’ve always been under the impression that when it comes to Shoto, trust is earned, not freely given.
You wonder if this kissing business means that you’ve earned a bit of that trust? Who’s to say.
“So…” you say, attempting to break the tension. “Where are we going?” 
Shoto looks back at you, confused. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to my dorm room.”
“Oh.” You pause. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate? Like, what if someone catches us kissing in your dorm room? Won’t we get in trouble?”
“I’ll lock the door.” He says sensibly. “It’s no one’s business but ours.”
“Huh.”
“Oh – I think I understand what you’re getting at.” He runs a hand through his hair reflexively. “It’s no wonder you’re one of the top members of the class. A good hero always has a strategy. So we should come up with an alibi.” He brings his thumb to his chin as he stares into space, pondering.
“If someone catches us, I can say that I experimentally froze my lips with my power and that I asked you to help me warm them up. Naturally, the best way to do so was with your lips.” He turns to you expectantly to gauge your reaction.
What the actual hell, Shoto.                                                          
“You’re um…you’re fucking with me, right?” You look at him uncertainly. Shoto’s unusually harsh upbringing has caused him to be shockingly literal at times. Your eyes scan his face until the corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a small smile.
“Yes, I am.”
You burst out laughing at the unexpected joke, and his tiny smile grows into a full grin. He likes making you laugh.
“Listen…” He says reassuringly, “No one is going to bother us – it’s such a nice day. I overheard some of the girls saying they were going to take pictures near the campus cherry blossom trees. They roped Midoriya, Ida and a few other classmates into the activity as well. Bakugo, Kirishima and Sero are all training across campus in the gym. We should have at least an hour or two before anyone comes seriously looking for us.”
Wow. That must be the longest group of sentences he’s ever said to you directly.
“You’ve really thought this through.” You say, following him across the threshold of Class 1A’s dorm complex.
He smirks. “I’m strategic.”
You look at him appraisingly. He looks clean and trim in his tailored UA uniform. Aside from the scar surrounding his eye, he has the most perfect skin of anyone in your class. While the rest of your classmates have been stressing about moisturizer and SPF and acne treatments, you’ve watched Shoto sail through his hormonal teens without a skincare care in the world. The skin of his cheeks is the color of porcelain and looks so, so soft and deliciously kissable. His face holds a mixture of determination and apprehension.
You enter the kitchen and common room area of your dorm and see that it’s completely, blessedly empty - odd for a Saturday. Shoto is right - it is one of the first nice spring days on campus. You assume everyone is out enjoying the nice weather as he said. This is a good thing – it means your clandestine meeting with Shoto can stay secret. Everyone in Class 1A can be so nosy sometimes. You’re determined to keep this juicy little secret between the two of you.
He leads you up towards one of the hallways that encompasses the boy’s dorms, pausing in front of his door to fiddle with his key. His usually steady hands are shaking a bit as he turns the lock and pushes open the door to reveal his immaculately clean bedroom with it’s traditional Japanese décor.
You step inside and slide off your shoes, letting your bag drop to the floor.
“I forgot how traditional your space is, Shoto.”
He closes the door behind you and clicks the lock into place before discarding his keys on his desktop. He looks around the dorm room thoughtfully.
“It’s how I grew up. I never really had the chance to develop my own taste or style.”
“Maybe now that you have your own space, you finally can!” You say enthusiastically. “If you’d ever like to go shopping or want help putting together a Pinterest board, Mina and I can definitely help you find some inspiration.”
His flat line of a mouth quirks up into another small smile. “I haven’t really had the time to think about anything other than school work and the L.o.V. since we moved into the dorms. Maybe you’re right – this could be an opportunity to broaden my horizons. See what I like.”
“Yeah! There are so many fun ways you can bring more of yourself into this space. We can start with a throw pillow.” You say knowledgably, pulling up the Pinterest app on your phone. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
You type the color into the search bar, and immediately the screen is flooded with hundreds of different shades of blue throw pillows – all kinds of patterns and sayings and beading and embroidery. You hand him your phone and encourage him to scroll through the options.
“I’m sure we can find something that makes you feel like you.”
His eyes soften a bit as he takes the phone from you, intrigued. He scrolls through the colorful images, overwhelmed by the options. After a few minutes of careful deliberation, he finally stops and double taps a picture, hyperlinking to a website.
“This. This feels like it could be me.” He sends himself the link so he can purchase the pillow later. He hands back your phone and you take a curious look – the image he’s drawn to is a long rectangle of fabric shaped like a whale. It has navy blue stripes along with a small curved tale and button eyes sewn on. You look up and see that the tips of Shoto’s ears are bright red.
“This isn’t what I was expecting – but I see now that it suits you perfectly.” You say, picturing the whale pillow in his room – a dash of whimsy against the otherwise stuffy outdated décor.  He practically glows at the compliment. You realize that this is likely one of the first times someone is validating a choice he has made for himself. You cough and toss your phone into your discarded bag – the moment feels oddly intimate.
Shoto’s eyes scan across your face and he speaks his next words slowly, almost deliberately. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, y/n. You always seem to know what to say to get someone to smile or to open up. Admirable traits in a future hero.” You feel your own face heating up at the sweet compliment. Shoto has never given you so much direct attention outside of class, and it’s exciting and almost unnerving to have those two intense eyes focused in entirely on you.
“Thank you Shoto, that’s a very kind thing to say.” You suddenly realize how very close Shoto’s face is to your own. He’s only a few breaths away. Shoto is a few inches taller than you, so you need to crane your neck in order to get the full picture of his beautiful face. You wonder nervously if he expects you to initiate – should you reach out and grab his face? Your heart starts beating much too fast and you see his intense eyes dart down to your lips, wanting. You take a step closer to him, leaning up to meet his face, and…
“Let’s get started.” He says abruptly, breaking the moment. He walks over to his closet and pulls out his bedroll, hastily moving to set up his sleeping space so that you’ll have a comfortable place to sit. Once he sets up the space, he takes a seat on the soft mattress and motions for you to join him. This wasn’t really what you were expecting, but you remember that Shoto is pretty sheltered. He clearly has a plan in mind here, so you decide to let him take the lead.
“Alright, before we start – I just want you to know that we can stop at any point you’d like. I want you to be comfortable here, so please let me know if at any time you feel like you don’t want to continue. Ok?”
You nod, appreciating the dialogue and Shoto’s forethought surrounding consent.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Leaning his head back, he exhales slowly through his nostrils. After a moment of deep breathing, his eyes flutter open. “It’s an exercise my father taught me for clearing my nerves before a battle.” He explains as he runs a nervous hand through his two-toned hair.
“Are you anticipating a battle here?” You tease, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. Shoto eyes the hand curiously before matching your gaze.
“Of course not. But surprisingly – I have the same feeling of anxiety now that I usually have right before a sparring match.” His expression is stone cold serious, not even the hint of a joke this time.
“I understand that. It’s nerve wracking to kiss a person for the first time.” You quickly double back on your words. “N-not that I’m implying that this is your first kiss or anything, I-”
Shoto blinks. “Oh – this is my first kiss. I thought it was fairly obvious.”
“Oh! Oh, Todoroki – I didn’t realize!” You trip over your words a bit and it brings out a soft smile in Shoto.
“I think that’s why I’ve been so distracted lately. Once I know how it feels, maybe then I can move on and focus back on my training and studies. Is this not your first kiss?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning. You see no hint of jealousy in his eyes – he’s legitimately curious.
“N-no. I’ve kissed a few people before. Never anything serious! Just here and there at summer camp.” You smile weakly, face burning. Shoto nods appreciatively at your candid answer.
“That makes sense – you’re very competent at everything you do. And very attractive.” This last part brings a blush across Shoto’s pale cheeks. “I had assumed there were plenty of people who have wanted to be kissed by you.” The compliment is unexpected and it makes a laugh bubble up your throat. You start giggling and Shoto seems taken by surprise.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No – no! You’re just so sincere and sweet and I am so nervous right now. Shoto you’re competent and attractive, too. I hope that you know that!” This brings his smile back out again, like the sunshine after a long rainstorm.
“Why don’t we just get it over with, then? I’ve read a few articles and studied some movies and…well, I think I’m as prepared as I can be.” Shoto’s face is so open and earnest your heart squeezes in your chest. He studied for this??
Slowly, carefully, Shoto reaches out a delicate hand to cradle the side of your face. He scoots somewhat awkwardly closer to you, but the rest of his movements hold his typical grace. He leans forward, eyes half closed, and brings his lips to your own.
You dip your head to receive the kiss, and you feel his soft lips melt against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of his mouth. Everything about him is soft and electric at the same time – the points where your bodies are connected feel charged with some kind of buzzing energy that leaves your breathless. And just as soon as it’s begun – it’s over. A brief peck, a stolen moment in time. Shoto pulls away from you, eyes wide, as he catches his breath.
“So?” You ask, trying for nonchalance but failing when you realize your voice is just a hoarse whisper. “What did you think?”
“It’s…” Shoto looks at you thoughtfully, touching his fingers to his tingling lips. “It wasn’t what I was expecting. I just feel like I want to do it more – like I need to keep going.”
You laugh – “Did you really think you’d want to stop after your first kiss?” Shoto shrugs, unwilling to answer the question.
“Can we kiss again? Please. If you’d like to, that is?” He asks, and you note the want in his voice. You’ve never heard Shoto Todoroki sound desperate for anything in his life before this moment. You’re surprised at how he sounds fairly desperate for you.
You smile at him and lean in close, bringing your foreheads together. You can feel different temperatures playing across his skin as he works to keep his quirk in check as excitement roars across his body.
“Follow my lead, lover-boy.” You whisper, before crashing your lips together. You move at a faster pace this time, showing him how to slide his mouth against yours to have a proper make out. He picks it up quickly and absolutely relishes in it. His eyes are closed and his hands find either side of your face again. You let him hold you like that for a few minutes before you decide to take the reigns a bit more. You reach out to place a hand on his chest and softly push him away from you.
“Here – this will make things a lot easier.” You stand up and move to straddle him, slowly sliding into his lap and wrapping your legs around his back. You place his hands on your waist and wind your arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” He nods, his eyes blown wide and almost glassy with lust.
“This is okay?” He asks, looking down at the way his hands grip your hips.
“Absolutely. You’re going to want them there for leverage.”
“Leverage?” He asks weakly, his eyes trained on your lips.
“You’ll see.” You smile deviously as you take in how absolutely undone Shoto looks. “Okay, next step – have you done any research on French kissing?”
Shoto nods again, looking a bit uncertain. “I watched a romantic comedy online and at the end the main couple kissed that way.”
“Well it’s super easy – I’ll walk you through it.” You tilt your head towards his and melt your lips back together, starting out with a slow and soft kiss. As he begins to get comfortable with the pace of your kissing, you move to deepen it – running the tip of your tongue across his lips. He naturally opens his mouth to you, and you move so that your tongues meet. You guide him into a light dance, your kisses becoming more frantic as your mouths and tongues collide. This brings out a ferocity in Shoto that you hadn’t expected, and you feel his hands grip your hips with almost bruising force. You groan, turned on by the contact. You automatically rock your hips into his and he stills at the motion. You blush as you realize that you can feel Shoto’s dick becoming hard beneath you. Shit.
His hands fly off of your hips and he sits back, mortified.
“I’m so sorry-” you start to say as he runs his hand anxiously through his hair again. Shoto takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes still fuzzy.
“Don’t be sorry! That was amazing, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looks down between you pointedly. He doesn’t want you to get freaked out by the fact that he’s got a boner.
“Oh I’m not uncomfortable at all! Actually, quite the opposite.” This answer makes Shoto’s sculpted eyebrows fly up into his hair.
“Really?” He whispers.
“Yeah. It’s actually really hot.” You reach down and take his hands in yours, moving them back to your hips. You make piercing eye contact with Shoto as you roll your hips experimentally again – feeling his hardness even through your clothes. He groans at the contact this time, a soft sound that is just: So. Goddamn. Hot.
You grind against him again, picking up a steady rhythm as Shoto enthusiastically moves your hips. Struck by sudden inspiration, you lean forward to kiss a sloppy line up his neck. This draws a moan from Shoto that you weren’t expecting – low and sweet. You smile as you continue to kiss his neck, using your tongue when you find a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.
Shoto grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head up before crashing his lips back into yours. His kisses are heated and passionate as he bounces you on his lap, making you both see stars. You’re so wet you can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You pray that your school uniform pants won’t get damp beneath you – how embarrassing would that be?! At the same time - you don’t give a damn; Shoto’s mouth and his hands and his dick feel far too good. At the moment kissing Shoto Todoroki feels like the only thing you were put on this goddamn earth to do.
Tentatively, you feel Shoto’s hands wander up from your hips. You moan into his mouth as his hands find your breasts. “How is this?” He whispers hoarsely, running delicate fingertips across the peaks of your breasts. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.” You moan your consent enthusiastically, and when he begins to softly knead your boobs over your shirt, your hormones fully take the wheel.
You hop off your classmate so you can quickly unbutton your shirt – your tie flying off as you work. Shoto remains sitting on the floor and does the same with his own uniform. In a moment he is sitting shirtless and beautiful before you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. He stares at you with bright eyes as you stand above him in nothing but a bra and UA’s uniform slacks. He has never seen a woman with so little clothing on before, and he is in awe.
You kneel down beside him on the bedroll and reach out to touch his perfect body. Your hand hovers above his perfectly sculpted abs and you look up at him, eyes asking permission. He nods, giving you his blessing to touch. You smooth your fingertips lightly across the defined planes of his chest and abs, marveling in all that he is. Your palm comes to rest against his chest and you feel his heartbeat – a quick staccato beneath your delicate hand. You push him lightly so that he moves to lie on the ground before you.
“You alright with all this?” You whisper, moving slowly to straddle him on the ground.
“If I get to have you on top of me again – absolutely.” And he grins – a genuine smile that radiates comfort. You’ve never seen a look like that before on Shoto’s face and it stops you in your tracks. You just want to bask in the glow of the rare gift of his beaming face.
After a moment, you collect yourself and move so that you’re on all fours and hovering over him. You shiver – you’ve never been so close to someone in this way before. He seems to notice your hesitation.
“You look cold – do you want to grab a blanket?” He reaches up and runs his hands up and down your arms, giving you more goose bumps. You nod, and he reaches to grab a thick grey knit blanket that’s folded neatly to your left. He pulls you down to lay on top of him and easily casts the blanked across your intertwined bodies. The knit feels luxurious and expensive – and it smells deliciously like Shoto. A scent that’s a mixture of sandalwood and fresh sheets wafts around you. It’s comfortable and warm and you feel so, so happy to be sharing this moment with Shoto.
He wraps his arms around you and feels himself get hard again at the delicate feeling of your bare skin against his own. He pulls you in for a kiss – and this time the passion is slow, sensual. You’ve never kissed someone like this before – like you have all the time in the world. He moves his hands up and down your bare back beneath the blanket – warming you up. He’s keeping his ice quirk at bay – both of his hands are the perfect temperature as they run across your soft, supple skin. His hands come to rest on your lower back as he moves to experimentally kiss down your collarbone.
“Oh! Oh, Shoto, yes.” Is all you can say. The use of his given name seems to turn him on even more, because his kisses become sloppier and he runs the edge of his teeth against your skin. He continues to kiss down your shoulder, pausing for only a moment in order to roll you both over so that he can have a turn on top. You gasp at the sudden movement – the dynamics have unexpectedly shifted and Shoto is in total control.
He gazes down at you, shifting the blanket so that it doesn’t get tangled between your bodies.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says, a note of wonder in his voice. “Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.” He runs a light fingertip across the delicate skin of your neck and across the expanse of your collarbone. He watches as he runs his finger down the slope of one of your breasts, stopping when he meets the soft cotton of your bra.
“Can we take this off?” He whispers, moving to palm your breast over the delicate white material. You nod, and prop yourself up so you can reach behind yourself to unclip the clothing. With a light “pop!” the bra clip comes undone and Shoto helps you discard the item. He takes in your breasts with a look of absolute amazement and cautiously reaches out to touch them. He gently runs the palm of his hand across your right breast experimentally. You gasp at the contact, and he nervously glances at your face to make sure you’re not in any discomfort. You smile at him, encouraging him to keep going. He kneads the breast in his strong hand a few times before experimentally rolling his thumb over your nipple. You gasp at the contact as pleasure surges through you – you had no idea you were so sensitive. Shoto repeats the motion, earning a soft moan. He smiles at the praise – unexpectedly mischievous as he moves so that he’s kneeling over you, able to tackle a breast with each hand. He goes to work pinching and massaging and rolling your breasts between deft fingers, drawing the sweetest sounds from your mouth.
“Shoto!” You cry out as he moves to spread more kisses across your neck as his left hand plays with one of your breasts. You reach down and squeeze the muscular plane of his ass, begging him to grind into you. He gets the message loud and clear – moving against you gently so that you can feel his hardness graze against you.
He’s causing so many delicious sensations across your body with his lips, hands, hips, groin – it’s almost too much. You feel like you might drown in him when suddenly –
A knock on the door causes you both to still.
“Todoroki?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice is muffled behind the door. You’re both rigid with fear. Shoto’s lips are at your neck and his breath tickles your bare skin. Your fist is tightly squeezed around his left ass cheek. You stare at the ceiling as you start to panic, wondering wildly what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
Mr. Aizawa knocks on the door again. “Todoroki – your father is here to see you.”
“My father?!” Shoto blurts out before he can stop himself. He scrambles off of you and looks around in a panic. “Why’s my father here?”
The walls seem to be thinner than you thought, because Mr. Aizawa supplies an answer from the other side of the locked door.
“Endeavor had a press conference at a hotel down the road this morning. He wanted to check in and discuss internships. I left him waiting in the common area. I’ll be in my office if you want to grab any internship paperwork while he’s here. I wouldn’t keep him waiting, kid.”
“Of course – thank you Mr. Aizawa!” Todoroki calls through the door awkwardly, listening as your teacher’s footsteps recede into the distance.
You and Shoto stare at each other in absolute horror.
“Do you think he heard us? Do you think h-he knows?” You whisper, panic lacing your voice.
Shoto shakes his head no as he gathers up his shirt and shakily tries to re-button it. “No – I don’t think he was out there long enough to hear anything incriminating.”
You let out a breath of anxious air, reaching for your discarded bra. “Thank goodness.” You re-clip your bra and shrug on your shirt.
“Endeavor is here?” You eye Shoto with concern as he dawns his tie and straightens his hair in a wall mirror on the back of his door.
“My old man likes to pop up at inconvenient times.” Content with his hair, he looks down at you. You’ve started to fold up his blanked and bedroll, patting down your own hair along the way.
“We should probably talk about what just happened…” He starts to say, but you shush him as you hear heavy footsteps coming from down the hall.
“Shoto!” A booming voice rings through the hallway, sending shivers up your spine. The heavy footsteps come to a stop right outside Shoto’s dorm door. The doorknob rattles as someone tries the lock. “How dare you keep me waiting!”
“I’ll be out in a minute, old man!” Shoto calls back bitingly. He glares at the door, thankful for the meager lock. He turns to look at you, and his eyes fill with panic. You scan the room for a place to hide – there is absolutely nowhere to conceal yourself in Shoto’s sparse, plain room.
Suddenly, you’re struck with inspiration – you point to the window. Shoto nods in agreement, dashing to grab your things from where they lay abandoned at the threshold of the door.
Quietly, you pad over to the window and pull back the curtains by a foot. You unlatch the window and slide it softly open before hoisting yourself into the wide window frame. It’s lucky you’re not afraid of heights – because Todoroki’s room is on the fifth floor. There is a small escape ladder for fire emergencies (you smile at the irony of Endeavor being the fire emergency in this case). You move to settle your feet on the top rung of the ladder, with plans to climb your way back to the ground so you can re-enter the dorm building from the back.
Shoto leans out the window and hangs your messenger bag around your shoulder.
“Find me later so we can discuss this.” He says, looking apprehensively over his shoulder as his father continues to bang on the door and callout his name. “I’m sorry this ended with you having to sneak out the window like some sort of criminal.”
“Ah, it’s no big deal! Makes it more exciting.” You grin and he smiles back. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back to close the window.
As he slides the glass closed, he says to you “I don’t think this is going to help me refocus. If anything, I’m more distracted than ever.” You give him a wink as he shuts the window soundly, drawing the curtains to cover your escape.
Hastily, you climb down 5 stories worth of thin metal ladder, landing gracefully in the soft spring grass. You walk to the dorm’s back entrance and let yourself in, walking past the laundry room and up towards the common area. Mina waves at you as she tosses some clothes into the washing machine, and you say a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that none of your friends had come looking for you while you spent your blissful hour hidden away, half-naked and moaning, in Shoto Todoroki’s room.
You climb the stairs two at a time until you hear the voice of the Number 2 Hero grumbling in the common area. Curious, you peak around the corner to see Shoto and his father seated on one of the couches, sorting through paperwork. Shoto has a dead look behind his eyes as his father lectured him about the importance of networking. He nods blankly a few times before his eyes catch sight of your small frame hiding around the corner. His entire face softens at the sight of you. Endeavor notices and turns to see what’s captured his son’s attention.
“You there! Are you a member of Class 1A?” He booms out, almost polite in his delivery. You walk out into the room, drawing yourself up to your full height.
“Dad – this is my classmate Y/N. She lives on the girl’s side of the dorm. Her quirk is extremely powerful.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor.” You say, trying not to blush at Shoto’s compliment. Endeavor waves you off with a fiery hand.
“Ah, that’s right. I recognize you from the Sport’s Festival. Your quirk and fighting style were both quite impressive.” He looks at you appraisingly. “Are you a close friend of Shoto’s?” 
“She is.” Shoto answers smoothly. “Actually, she’s been tutoring me a bit lately on some techniques I’m not familiar with. She’s a greatteacher.” The subtext is not lost on you.
“Surely you don’t need help in your studies, Shoto. You’re at the top of your class.” Endeavor says gruffly, looking to his son for further explanation.
“Just showing him a few moves I picked up in one of my martial arts classes, sir! Shoto picks up new techniques like a Pro.”
Endeavor seems mollified by this answer. “Of course he does. He’s on track to become the best of the best.” The hero claps his hand on Shoto’s shoulder proudly, and you smile weakly at the discomfort that flashes across Shoto’s eyes.
“Well – I’ll let you both get back to your work! Shoto – if you want to practice those techniques again later, I’ll be in the library until 8 tonight.”
You see Shoto ever so slightly lick his bottom lip. His face is tinged with the lightest of blushes.
“Got it. I’ll see you there, Y/N.”
You have a feeling that Shoto isn’t going to be able to focus on his studies for quite some time.
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PART 2
PART 3
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horrorhot-line · 8 months
Text
rafayel's nsfw alphabet
➵ pairing: rafayel x female!reader
➵ word count: 3.3k
➵ genre: nsfw
➵ warnings: minors dni. this post is pure smut, no plot here. slight exhibitionism, sex toys, edging, blindfolding, handcuffs, overstimulation, somnophilia, praise kink, bondage.
➵ summary: pretty self explanatory, the nsfw alphabet on your favourite boy.
➵ xavier's ver. | zayne’s ver.
➵ masterlist  (requests are open)
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notes: this one's for you @jaiden-zhou, i was gonna take a break and post these later, but your reblog asking for rafayel and zayne's version meant i got to work right away. hope you enjoy <3333
credit to @multi-fandom-imagine for the template
➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵
➵ a for aftercare (what is he like after sex?) he loves talking after sex. most would get tired after the extracurricular activities, you included, but not rafayel. he loves picking your brain about anything and everything. still semi inside you, lazily thrusting into you as he empties the last of his cum inside you, trailing kisses across your face as he asks you where you'd want to go if the two of you went travelling. he won't admit it, ever- but he does it because he's realised it's when you're the most honest, spent and cheeks still flushed after your orgasms, still delirious after he's fucked the living daylights out of you. he will also never admit, he doesn't want to fall asleep and running his mouth makes sure of that, he doesn't want to risk you leaving him again. "what do you think about the city of love? i'd love to fuck you in paris."
➵ b for body part (his favourite body part of his and also his partner's) he adores your body, you know this, but his absolute favourite part of you is your eyes. no matter how many lifetimes he's spent waiting for you, your eyes are always the same, soft, shining and focused only on him. he loves fucking you, starting off slow as his pelvis collides with your clit and has you seeing stars, he loves the way your gaze focuses on him when he's thrusting into you, pulling out ever so slightly only to snap his hips back into yours. and fuck, does he love the way he gets to watch your eyes roll back. his favourite part about himself is his dick, pretty self-explanatory. he loves the way you tell him his cock is perfect as he fucks into you, pressing the rough of his thumb against your clit as you throw your head back. "you look so pretty like this, drooling all cause of my cock."
➵ c for cum (anything to do with cum, basically) he may have asked if he could use your cum as paint once, promising he'll never let anyone else see his creation apart from you. rafayel loves shoving his cum back inside you when it leaks out, plugging you up with his fingers as he makes sure you don't waste a single drop, ignoring the way you look like absolute sin with tears of overstimulation in your eyes. though, he can't ignore the way his dick hardens again at the way you glow after you've orgasmed, thighs wet with slick and looking so inviting, "one more round? come on, i know you can cum again- do it for me."
➵ d for dirty secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his) if you hadn't guessed it already, rafayel lives for validation- your validation. he'll never admit it; he doesn't want to bruise his ego by telling you how much he likes hearing you whimper and moan. he loves when he first puts his dick inside you, grabbing the hand that reaches out to place itself on his stomach as you struggle to take him in, and he raises that same hand above your head so he can plug your slick pussy with his cock. "ah, ah, ah- you wanted this, can't back out now. instead of trying to stop, why don't you tell me how good my dick feels, hm?"
➵ e for experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?) he knows his way around, he's watched enough porn when he was researching for an art project of his. the real thing is different though, and he realises that when you're under him, spreading your legs for him, and he finds no matter how hard he tries, you're pussy is just too good. the first round is always quick, but he knows how to work his fingers and his tongue, making sure you cum more times than he can count before he's ready to go again, forcing your legs apart as he raises his top and bites down on it, watching how his dick enters you. "lost for words? why don't you start off by telling me how good i feel?"
➵ f for favourite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) this is a hard one for him, but if he had to choose it would definitely be cow girl. the sight of you riding his dick so well, struggling to take him in, sweat lining your bodies as he grips your tit and watches the other one bounce. he loves the way you lower your chest to his after a few minutes, legs aching, letting him know he can take over. he manages to hit all your sweet spots in this position too, and there's no escape for you as he wraps his arms around you, angling his hips to fuck into you, making sure you feel his tip against your cervix. "tired already? if you wanted me to take over, my love- all you had to do was ask."
➵ g for goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc) he knows how to be serious, but if there's a queef, he'll laugh. how can you expect him not to? that, and he likes catching you off gaurd, because when you join him, giggling at his antics, he snaps his hips into yours, setting a brutal pace that has you struggling to catch your breath. "what? you not gonna laugh, anymore? no? didn't think so."
➵ h for hair (how well groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes) he's always well-groomed. always clean-shaven and there's never a stubble that gives you carpet burn, because he likes to stay on top of it. he wants you to focus on the feel of his dick inside you and nothing else when he's pounding your wet cunt. he treats his body like a temple, basically. "i wanna look good for myself. it has nothing to do with you." (it does.)
➵ i for intimacy (how is he during the moment, romantic aspect…) rafayel acts like he doesn't care about being romantic, but he does. when he's not salty about how you make him wait, he gives you the best treatment, always eating you out first, fingering you until you can't take anymore, begging for him to fill you up with his cock, which he does, rubbing your clit as he rolls his hips into yours, making sure you remember the way his dick feels buried deep inside you. he always makes sure you finish, and he likes to admire the artwork in front of him one he's done, you laying flushed beneath him, lips parted, breathing heavily and still twitching. "you look so pretty when i'm through with you. hey, can i draw you like this? no? just one quick sketch, please…"
➵ j for jacking off (masturbation headcanon) you make him horny 24/7, even when you're not around. he'll be in his studio, casually painting and lounging when you pop into his head, and his mind will drift to all the times you've been underneath him. by the time you've come home to him, he's a needy mess, flushed, dick in his hand already leaking precum as he begs you to help him out because he's been edging himself for hours, waiting for you. "please, my love. i need you."
➵ k for kink (one or more of their kinks) what kinks does he not have? he has a huge praise kink, that's for sure. loves it when you get vocal and tell him how good he feels, how he's too deep and that it's too much, he loves watching you struggle to take him all in, slamming the last few inches in just so he can hear you sob. he's also a huge fan of overstimulation; he loves pushing you past your limits, watching you become a mess as he squeezes out another orgasm with his fingers. he's into bondage too, something about the idea of you being all tied up, looking pretty for him, helpless to what he has in store for you. he's a bit of a switch, too- he loves you taking control when you've had enough of his teasing just so he can roll you over and force you to take his dick. he also adores watching you use him, making yourself feel good with his cock. "you gonna cum, baby? feel good? who knew you'd love my dick this much?"
➵ l for location (favourite places to do the do) he's a bit of an exhibitionist, reckons it comes with the job description of being an artist. so, he likes it anywhere as long as it's you. he has a list of places he'd love to dick you down at, but his favourite would be his art studio. you're his muse, what gives his paintings colour and life, and he loves spreading you across his desk, raising your hips off the table so he can snap his hips into you only to imagine the same scenario as he starts his new piece. he also loves the beach; something about being close to home, the waves around your feet and hands as he bends you over, lifting you by the arm so you're body's flush against his, calloused fingers reaching for your clit. he loves the way he can feel the water against his thighs as you throw your head back against his shoulder, and he can watch your lovely fucked out expression. "told you the sea was warm during the summer. having fun, baby?"
➵ m for motivation (what turns him on, gets him going) just thinking about it gets him horny; you know this already. it doesn't matter where the two of you are, he will borrow your hole to empty his load, whining and teasing you until you give in, finding the nearest secluded place before pulling his pants down and sliding your panties to the side. you have this effect on him, he can't control himself, and he blames you for it, something he lets you know often as he fucks you from behind, grabbing your tit in one hand, arm under your shoulder and across your chest to lock you in place so you can't run, "it's all your fault for turning me on. that means it's your responsibility to help me out."
➵ n for nicknames (what are his favourite pet names for you? what does he call you when you're both alone?) he calls you 'my love.' a lot- something about your heart being his. he likes calling you his, repeating the words "mine, mine, mine." as he's fucking into you before his lips latch onto yours, swallowing your moans and desperate cries. he does like to use babe when he's teasing you or being mean as payback for you making him wait, rubbing your swollen clit, grabbing the wrist that reaches out to stop him as he rolls his hips into yours, "come on babe, i know you have more left in you. cum one more time for me- yeah?"
➵ o for oral (preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc) he loves receiving but will never pester you for it. he'll ask, but if you say no, then so be it. when you do agree, though, he'll shove himself as deep as he can go, hissing as his tip kisses the back of your throat, running his fingers through your hair before wiping away the stray tear going down the side of your temple, smiling down at you as he reaches over to plug his fingers in your pussy, stretching you out as you choke on his dick. "don't cry, my love. save your tears for when i fill you up. not long now, i know you can do it."
➵ p for pace (is he fast or rough? slow or sensual?) he's not slow, but he is sensual. setting a brutal pace that has you falling off the edge and clenching your thighs as your orgasm hits you, before slowing down his thrusts and taking his time, letting you ride out your high before he's fucking into you again, squeezing your ass and moving you up and down his dick so his cock reaches the deepest it can inside you. "you're mine, yeah? fuck, you're so tight. 'm gonna cum inside you."
➵ q for quickie (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc) yes, the answer is yes anytime that word is used in a sentence. he'll wait for you to initiate unless you make him horny, which is more often than not- he loves subtly teasing you, hands finding their way into your panties underneath tables, fingers tracing your hips, feather-light touches across your thighs to let you know he needs you, leading you to wherever's semi-decent before he's shoving your clothes aside, bending you over and kicking your legs apart so he can fuck you until he's satisfied. "you're gonna have to cover again with thomas for me, babe. this is all you, you know? wearing those thigh highs- thinking i wouldn't react."
➵ r for risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks, etc) definitely game to experiment, he adores finding new ways to pull reactions out of you. the first time he tried fluffy handcuffs and a blindfold on you, he swore it was the hardest he'd ever been. he was in awe, starstruck, watching you twitch at the slightest touch, looking all pretty and helpless. you were at his mercy, and it made his cock twitch. the wait was worth it, though- after he was done using his fingers to push you over the edge enough times, he lined himself up with your pussy, and hissed at the way he slid right in. buried completely inside you, he held your hips up as he started fucking you, realising you were louder when your sight was covered. "who knew you'd like being used? since you enjoy it so much, why don't we do this more often?"
➵ s for stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last) you usually lose track after the 7th to 8th round, mind blank after he's pulled another orgasm from you, towering over your spent body, a smug smile on his face as he pulls his dick out of you, slapping it against your slick pussy a few times, before shoving it back in completely, with no warning. he will quite literally fuck you until you pass out. "come on, babe. keep your eyes open, and on me- i know you can go one more round."
➵ t for toy (does he own toys? does he use them? partner or himself?) he owns quite a few, most are in the first drawer of his bedside table, the others are scattered across his mansion. he likes buying them to see how you react, keeping the ones you enjoy the most. his favourites are the ones that focus on your clit, he loves fucking you when he uses them, feeling your pussy spasm around him as you cum again. he does own a pussy pocket and uses it often when you're away. also, he's definitely asked if he can have one moulded to the shape of your cunt specifically.
➵ u for unfair (how much does he like to tease) he's very unfair, often teasing you as payback for all the years you've made him wait for you, thumb hovering over your clit as he stops you from orgasming, halting his thrusts as he watches you try and grind against his dick. he turns your head to him and kisses you, mouth swallowing your complaints and sobs as he watches you twitch from overstimulation. he breaks the kiss only to fuck into you nice and slow, building up the pace before he's slamming into you from behind, arms wrapping around you when you try to crawl away from him with how sensitive you are. "what now, my love? you can't move, poor thing. try and escape me this time."
➵ v for volume (how loud is he? what sounds does he make?) he loves being vocal, letting you know just how good you feel as he manages to stuff his dick in your tight cunt, tip kissing your cervix as you double over at the feeling of being so full. he'll pull you right back up against his chest, not letting you catch your breath as he starts fucking into you, fingers flicking your hardened nipples, hands squeezing your tits as he moans in your ear. doesn't help that he sounds like pure sin, and his moans alone have you tightening around his cock. "fuuuck, you have no idea how good you feel. you're so wet, baby… feeling good? yeah? i know i am."
➵ w for wildcard (random headcanon for him) you agree to it after he gives you the pros and cons, and find that he uses it every chance he gets. you didn't expect this out of him, but this man really wants to fuck you in your sleep. just something about the idea of having his way with you when you're not conscious. that, and he gets horny during the night and doesn't wanna wake you just to fuck you. he'd much rather finger you until you're ready to take him, stirring in your sleep but not fully awake as he rubs his dick along your pussy, using your slick to lube himself up before he's lining himself up and shoving his dick in, inch by inch. he'll rolls his hips experimentally, and moan softly in your ear. he waits for you to wake up, dazed and disoriented as your brain catches up, before he slams his dick completely into you, not giving your confused mind the chance to register your arousal as he starts rubbing your clit, teasing an orgasm out of you the minute you're up. "there she is. how'd you like your wake-up call, babe?"
➵ x for x-ray (what's going on in those pants of his) his dick is perfect, no, really. it is the most gorgeous dick you have ever seen, not a hair in sight, and his tip is the prettiest pink colour, all flushed from how turned on he gets because of you. he's circumcised, hates the idea of his penis ever getting dirty or smelling, that- and he reckons it makes it easier for you to suck him off. he has length and girth, not too big that it hurts but enough that you can feel him in your gut when he's inside you.
➵ y for yearning (how high is his sex drive) very high, no matter how many times he fucks you, he can never get enough. rafayel loves the feel of your pussy, maybe more than the feel of a paintbrush in his hand when he has newfound motivation to finish a project, and he enjoys having his way with you whenever he wants. if he's ready to go, it means you'll soon follow. you can't refuse him when his touch trails across your bare skin, hands down your panties and fingers shoved two digits deep inside you, teasing and edging you until you give in to his need to fuck. "you can't blame me- it's your fault for looking so pretty, all fucked up like this. 'm gonna mark you up, let everyone know you're mine."
➵ z for zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards) he wants to fall asleep right after he's done with you, having spent most of his energy fucking you until you're leaking his cum all over the bed sheets, but he likes staying awake until you pass out, idle talk lulling you to slumber as he brushes your hair out your face and behind your ear, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest before he pulls you into his arms and rests his cheek against your tits. "you're asleep already? …i love you."
2K notes · View notes
star-sim · 8 months
Text
"noo! she's taken!" ☆ enha hyungs
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☆ non-idol! bf! enhypen hyungs x celebrity! fem! reader ☆summary: you are a very well-loved celebrity, and your relationship is finally revealed to the public. ☆genre: fluff, silly boys ☆warning(s)? ygs liked the maknae ver so here's the hyung ver! maknae ver
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heeseung ☆
i think ur a musician here
one of those very personable and insightful ones
giving laufey or mitski yk?
anyways heeseung is THE stan
within your fandom
he's the guy that EVERYONE KNOWS
like ppl will argue who is the best [name] stan and the moment he's brought up they shut their mouths
heeseung does not play around when it comes to stanning you, his gf
somewhat like riki, heeseung runs multiple stan accounts for you
but he's most active and most well-known on 1) youtube and 2) tiktok
all his youtube videos are titled
"[name] concert 11/25/2023 nyc, usa (she looked at me!)"
"[name] concert 11/26/2023 miami, usa"
"[name] concert 11/27/2023 berlin, germany (i touched her hand!)"
"[name] concert 11/28/2023 jakarta, indonesia"
"[name] concert 11/29/2023 melbourne, australia (i met her!)"
like how the fuck is he going to all of these concerts when theyre literal hours apart and OCEANS AWAY
he likes to vlog his concert experiences
and theyre very entertaining because he's like genuinely enjoying himself
on his tiktok he also records his concert experiences
but i also think he posts your fancams and makes edits of you
too many times where an edit of you became known as "that one [name] edit"
he makes a lot of thirst edits of u
too many captions like "i want her so bad" or "she's so fine i need her biblically"
everyone knows who he is, even ppl outside of your fandom or the music scene
hes just that one guy that really likes you
one day ur on tour
its all fine and dandy, ur eating everything up, ur fans are loving it
and heeseung is documenting his concert experience
as he always does
and then it ends and heeseung posts it
however
this concert vlog
is
uh
receiving a lot of attention
TOO MUCH ATTENTION
THAT ITS
VERY
SUSPICIOUS
........
you and hee are just hanging out in your hotel when his phone starts blowing up
and yours too
all the comments on his video are normal, the ones that are expressing playful envy at heeseung's presence at ur concert
and like
it's not like heeseung doesn't get these types of comments
but one comment catches his eye
it has like 50k likes
and hes like oh shit
"at 3:05 heeseung why are you kissing [name]"
kissing.
[name].
he clicks that timestamp
and oh my god
THERES LIKE A CLIP OF HEESEUNG KISSING YOU
you see
when heeseung records your concerts he's recording it both for his fanpage and for the memories
he'll take as many cute couple pictures and videos with you as possible
and he just so happened to accidentally add one of the clips of you and him
kissing.
in fact
he accidentally added A LOT OF CLIPS AND PICTURES of you and him being a couple
ones of you hugging him backstage, ones of you two holding hands, even one where viewers can faintly hear you calling heeseung "babe"
and the other comments
OH LORD THE OTHER COMMENTS
"THAT SHOULD BE ME"
"HEESEUNG MOVE ASIDE!!!!!!!!!"
"i hate seeing people live my dream"
"SHE'S MINE *growls*"
"[NAME] GET BEHIND ME"
obv theyre all half joking half confused, but i think ppl are able to joke w him bc he's such an obnoxious stan 😭
and heeseung is like
poor heeseung is sweating and panicking
bc shit HE JUST EXPOSED UR RELATIONSHIP
but when he tells u
you literally are just like
"okay"
OKAY????
"it's not a big deal"
heeseungs like WHATATATATA
at first he's kinda unsure
bc ur so chill abt it that he's almost afraid that ur actually mad at him 😭
but you legitimately do not care
and when he realizes this
he goes from
😱
to
😈
because
NOW HE CAN FLEX ON EVERYONE
he goes straight to twitter and drops more couple-y pictures of you and him
he probably posts a tiktok that pans over to you on his bed or something
caption like "it's exposed now, but yeah, [name] is actually my gf"
its goes so viral
hes so smug about it too
like whenever he gets into arguments abt who's a better fanpage hes like "I'M LITERALLY A HER BF???"
he becomes an inside joke in ur fandom
i think everyone jokingly flames his ass too
"why did she pick heeseung of all people...."
"pixelated fancam, ass editing, shitty camera, yet [name] still chose him... what did we do wrong"
"[name] wasn't lying in her song when she said she has bad taste in men"
"i can't believe heeseung literally stole my spot... i should be the one that she writes all her love songs about..."
free him 😭😭😭
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jay ☆
ooh this one is kinda juicy
ur a musician slay
but sometimes you do modeling
for one of your shoots
you're showing off your midriff and ur just glowing sorry
all ur followers are like
"ughhh step on me [name]"
"i don't think ygs understand i need her"
"[NAME] ONE CHANCE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE"
"i want her."
very quickly goes viral
ur just so hot ughhhhh
but ppl notice something upon closer inspection
you have a tattoo on ur back
at first everyone is like
"okay sexy lady love the tat"
but then
when they look closer
they can't help but see that incorporated into the design
is two
very
specific
letters
J and P
almost like they're someone's initials
🤨🤨🤨
hmmmmm
interesting.....
who is JP?
HMMM???
and now that ppl look at it
you have so many songs and albums that refer to JP
like ur one album
called
"just playing, i love you" but it's commonly abbreviated as "jpily"
JP????? ILY?? JP I LOVE YOU???
WHO THE HELL IS JP
"whoever jp is, he needs to meet me in the parking lot so we can have a talk 😆"
"jp my opp"
"jp kys!!!"
"jp is living my dream"
hehe
you see this
and jay aka mr JP himself sees this
and ur like
yk what let's tease the fans
for the next few months ur just teasing jay's existence
using his intials
like one time you wear a heart necklace that has the letters jp engraved in them
or when you tweeted "i love jp" but followed it up with "Jurassic Park is a wonderful movie 😆"
oh god you make it so obvious
"jp is the reason i make my music" and then following it up with "Jimmy Page is my favoritie guitarist 😛"
like ur fans are tired
and theyre getting outright insane
"guys the winter is getting cold and dire... the voices in my headare telling me that [name] is dating this jp person and i don't know how much longer i can live in denial"
"fuck you jp that should be me!!!"
"i hope jp knows how lucky he is... if a hot woman like [name] tattooed my initials i think i'd die maybe"
"i'm fighting demons (and jp)"
until finally!!!
you go to an award show
you look great as always
ugh queen
and ur getting interviewed
the interviewer asks you a playful question like
"oh are you here with any date?"
AND YOU JUST SMILE
"of course, i'm here with my boyfriend, jay park."
oh man
when that gets posted
EVERYONE IS GOING CRAZY
JAY PARK
JP
AAAAAAAAA
and when the actual award shows gets posted
it keeps panning over to you and jay
and everyone is like
THAT'S HER BF????
all jay can say is that he's prideful duh
everyone wants u but he's the only one that can have you
you definitely take a lot of pictures on the red carpet at the award show
and jay is with u in a lot of them
he's holding ur waist so tightly
like you're not gonna run away cuh it's okay omg 😭😭😭
anyways i think it gets resolved pretty easily
ur fandom accepts jay
but they still joke abt him
and when jay makes a twt account it gets worse
he WILL respond to them
and he WILL flex u
every time he does it shuts down the argument right away.... if he wants to win he just needs to mention ur name
"jay meet me after the concert, we will fight to the death for [name]'s love"
and this mf responds "can i bring [name] to be the ref?"
"jay ur hair looks so fucked up in this picture"
and he responds "yet [name] still picked me and not you"
you have to tell him to stop fighting ur 16 yr old fans HELP
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jake ☆
sorry ur a musician again
you have a new song that came out
yk how in some songs
there's almost like an interlude
where there's speaking parts
like in agora hills theres a small part where doja cat says "baby can you call me back, it's so lonely in my mansion" yk?
you have something like that in your newest song
cute!
except it's not just your voice
but a MAN'S voice too
JAKE'S VOICE
the speaking part is very flirty and suggestive
and when it comes out
ppl are like
WHO IS THAT MAN
and then when the music video comes out
theres a male actor that you have many scenes with
now.... the male actor's face is cut out...
but there are still many scenes with you touching him, holding him, kissing him, and vice versa
and when the speaking part comes on
that male actor is supposed to be the male part if that makes sense
that male actor is
drum roll plS
JAKE
when ppl read the credits of the song and music video
they can't help but notice "jake sim"
and when they search ur other songs and mv's
"jake sim" has never showed up...
until this song.....
interesting....
ur fans do a lil detective work
and this jake sim guy doesn't have any involvement in the music or acting industry....
so why is he in ur song AND music video....
hmmmm
they can't find any ig account linked to him
except one that's very obscure
it has a funny username like
"@laylasdad1115" so ppl are like "oh that's probably not even him" and you weren't even following that account so they just let it go
WRONG!!1
@LAYLASDAD1115 IS JAKE
and although you're not following that account on ig
when ppl scroll down to your very very old posts
they see something
very
very
very
miniscule
but
very
very
very
crucial
a post of you and a golden labrador.... and the caption says "i love you layla"
layla... laylasdad1115
and THEN BOOM
NEW SONG COMES OUT
AND AT THE BEGINNING
YOU SAY
"jakey, kiss me!"
OH MY GOD
WHO IS JAKE SIM!!!!!!
"@laylasdad1115 u better watch out...."
"who do you think u are jake sim..."
and then you have a concert
and its not a massive stadium, it's very casual
and there's a part of the concert where you just answer questions that ur fans have and just hang out w them
and someone asks as a joke
"who's jakey in ur song btw?"
and with the most straight face
ur just like
"oh he's my boyfriend!" and then you point to the front row and ur like "he's actually here tonight, say hi baby!"
and jake is so enthusiastic abt it, hes like "hi guys!"
while everyone else in the room is like
WHAT.
the way ygs are so casual abt it is so appalling
"[NAME] YOU CAN'T JUST CASUALLY DROP THAT U HAVE A BF I THOUGHT WE WERE GETTING MARRIED"
"she's taken..... i'm gonna die.... "
LMAAOAOAO
it's known in ur fandom now that ur bf is jake sim or wtv
i don't think anyone even calls him jake
out of pure disrespect (😭) they call him by his instagram username
"laylasdad1115 might be dating [name] but i'm legally bound to her so who's really winning"
when jake shows up to your concerts i do think your fans joke w him like
"ouuu jake ur so lucky [name] is here or i'd give you a black eye"
FREE HIMMMM
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sunghoon ☆
three words: your personal bodyguard
you're an actress cutie
and it's award show season
at all of your award shows ppl notice there's this tall brooding figure looming over you
ITS SUNGHOON LMAO
he's like
GLARING AT EVERYONE
HE KEEPS SQUARING UP RANDOM PPL 😭😭😭
ik this might be a crazy crossover but the moment he spots ryan gosling he's so ready to throw fists
"okay barbie boy you look like you want a broken nose"
sunghoon is very protective of you
obv bc the film industry is lowk kinda sus and exploitative, he def watches out for u a lot
everyone kinda just assumes that he's ur scary bodyguard
but then paparazzi pictures come out
and hes with you
in every
single
one
"goddamn her bodyguard is passionate about his job 😭😭😭"
in fact when the annoying invasive paparazzi interviewers come to talk to you sunghoon is sending the the NASTIEST GLARES
but like it's valid bc ur literally walking to Walgreens at 9AM on a tuesday why do you need to be photographed
"hi [name] can we ask you a few questions-"
hoon literally answers for u
"No. 😐."
interviewers are so rude, theyre like "well i didn't ask you, did i... [name] can we ask you-"
sunghoon just blinks and says
"No. 😐😐😐😐😐😐😐." again
and then ygs leave
theres clips of you at the airport where sunghoon is scaring all ur fans, which makes way for you to have a cmfortable flight
i think ur fans appreciate him but theyre lowk scared
"oh god this guy does not play abt his job 😭😭"
until one day
you get playfully asked abt ur bodyguard on an ig live
and ur like "wait what that's not my bodyguard, that's my bf"
UR WHAT????
HUH????
😱😱😱
ur fans are in the trenches
"i cant hate him bc he protects [name].... but damn i wish that was me 😞😞😞"
and when they review some of the clips w you and sunghoon they see you smiling and giggling with him
"he makes her happy so ig i'll let him have her </3"
"this is the hardest sacrifice i have to make"
i lowk think sunghoon doesn't care
he FIGHTS EVERYONE
only for u ofc 😊😊😊
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maknae ver
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Sweeter Than Revenge Part 1
Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: When you try to surprise your brother with a visit in the hopes of mending your strained relationship, it does not go as planned. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you decide to get a little revenge. And who better to do it with than the head Tornado Wrangler himself... Word Count: 3509 TW: Family Conflict, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes/Breasts, Unsucessful Flirting, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages
Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)
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Grabbing your backpack off the seat beside you, you stood and joined the crowd of passengers making their way to the front of the bus. You stopped to let an elderly couple join the line in front of you and used the momentary pause to glance out the window at your destination. A small diner in need of a fresh coat of paint and a good window washing sat off to the left while several rows of gas pumps were lined up on the right. Trucks, vans, campers, and SUVs filled almost every parking spot and spilled into the grassy field around the lot. Some vehicles were ancient, rusted machines that barely looked driveable while others were so fresh and high-tech they could have just been driven off a lot. Those were the vehicles you were looking for.
Stepping off the bus, you headed towards the group of four shiny new vehicles on the other end of the parking lot. On the way, your head was on a constant swivel as you took in everything around you: a middle-aged couple arguing loudly about who forgot to tie down the lawn chairs the last time they stopped, a somewhat familiar-looking man in a cowboy hat unloading a piece of equipment from his huge red truck while another long-haired man filmed him, a woman with dreadlocks fiddling with a remote control only for a large drone to drop out of the sky a moment later and land at her feet, a few children racing towards the diner with their exasperated mother trailing behind yelling at them to watch where they were going. 
It was utter chaos and you loved it already. 
As you approached the vehicles, you saw the Storm PAR logos printed on the sides and breathed a sigh of relief that after this sixth bus stop, you had finally tracked them down. You still didn’t see who you were looking for, so you walked up to a man with dark curly hair wearing a white button-down Storm PAR shirt who was currently crouched down examining a weird solar panel-looking piece of equipment set up next to one of the vans. As you cleared your throat, he looked up from the machine and blinked, as if he was shocked to see someone standing there despite the crowds of people around him. Glancing around, he asked, “Um…can I help you?”
You guess you shouldn’t be too surprised by his reaction. In your cut-off shorts, boots, and halter top, you looked like you should be hanging out one of the trucks you passed when you first got off the bus, not the polished, company polo shirt-wearing tech heads milling around the Storm PAR vehicles. And you didn’t even want to know what your hair and makeup looked like after four hours on that poorly air-conditioned packed bus. 
So, instead of taking offense at this guy’s slightly dismissive tone, you smiled as you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder. “Hi. I’m looking for Scott.”
The man glanced over his shoulder but made no move to stand up. “He’s here but he’s in the middle of some data calculations. Can I help you with something?”
“Not really. I had time off college and he mentioned you guys were having a really active season so I figured why not come out and see all this in action.” The man was still looking at you like he couldn’t understand why you were talking to him and you suddenly realized you hadn’t explained the most important detail. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I guess I should have mentioned, Scotty’s my older brother.”
Instantly, the man’s demeanor shifted and a huge toothy smile spread across his face. “Oh! You should have led with that. Nice to meet you.”
Rising to his feet, he stuck out his hand and you shook it, officially introducing yourself. When he said his name was Javi Rivera and it was your turn for things to click into place. “Javi! You’re Scotty’s business partner, right? He’s told me about you.”
Javi let your hand drop and his eyes shifted towards his equipment once more. “Really? Well, um, you know, I’ve, uh, heard great things about you too.”
You grinned, grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “Scotty never even mentioned he had a sister, did he?” Javi gave a slight shrug, still not looking directly at you and you laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Never wants to get personal, everything’s about business with him. To be honest, I don’t see or hear from him that much which is just another reason I figured I’d come surprise him when I had the chance. Plus, I read some research Scotty left lying around last time he came home and it was really interesting. I’m excited to be able to see what you guys do firsthand.” 
“Well, I’m sure Scotty will be glad to see you. Let me go grab him.”
Javi turned and disappeared into one of the vans. A moment later, he returned with your brother following closely behind. “Javi, I was in the middle of some important calculations. Why did I have to–” Scott stumbled to a stop as he saw you standing there.
Since he was a teenager, Scott had mastered the art of keeping his emotions hidden. He could be fuming mad, joyously happy, or heartbrokenly sad, and in each case keep the same perfect mask on his face. However, you knew his one tell. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his eyes. And right now, you could practically see flames burning within them. 
For the first time, you wondered if coming to see him had been such a good idea. Shifting from one foot to the other, you tried to force a smile as you half-heartedly held out your arms. “Surprise.”
Scott remained rooted to the spot, his only movement the constant forceful chewing of his gum. Javi glanced back and forth between the two of you, the smile slowly draining from his face. Hesitantly, he explained, “She said she was your sister so I figured…”
A cultivated smile spread across Scott’s lips but it didn’t reach his eyes as they continued to burn into yours. “No, it’s all good. I’m just surprised to see her.” Without breaking eye contact, he held his tablet out to Javi who took it from him. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her and then I’ll get back to those numbers.”
Javi started to protest, assuring him there was no rush and he could take his time, but Scott had already closed the distance between you. Grabbing your arm tightly to the point of slight painfulness, he guided you past the rest of the Storm PAR vehicles and into the empty field. 
Once you were far enough away that you knew none of his co-workers could hear you, you wrenched your arm from his grasp, snapping, “Get off of me!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, his mask finally slipping as his nostrils flared and lips curled into a snarl.
“Well, hello to you too!” You examined your arm where he had grabbed you, massaging it gently. “Can’t a girl come visit her big brother?”
“Not when she wasn’t invited or even asked if she could come beforehand! What were you thinking? This isn’t one of your wild party vacations. This is my job!”
“I know that. I wasn’t expecting you to drop everything and take me sightseeing. I just thought I could hang around and watch you guys in action. I’ve read some of the research you left at Christmas and I was hoping maybe I could learn a little more about it.”
Scott shook his head, his hands on his hips. “This is our busiest time of the season. I don’t have time to babysit you.”
“What do you think I am? Eight? I don’t need you to babysit me. I told you, I’m interested in what you do and thought I could just hang around and see how it all works.” You shrugged, “Maybe you could even take me on a chase or two.”
“Hell no. I won’t have you getting scared and causing us to have to turn around in the middle of a storm run. Javi and I have worked too hard to get this company to where it is and I’m not going to let you ruin that because, on a whim, you thought it would be fun to see a storm.” Scott scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “It’s so typical of you to still think that just because you want something or because Mom and Dad will pay for it, everyone else will bend over backward to accommodate you. Well, I don’t have to put up with your bullshit anymore.”
You took several deep breaths and tried to keep your anger in check. This was not at all how you thought this would go, but lashing out right now would only make things worse. So, in a calm, steady voice, you tried to shift approaches. “Scotty, we haven’t spent any real time together since you left for MIT. And back then…I’m not proud of the person I was and I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. But I was a kid who didn’t know any better! I’ve grown up since you left. And this trip isn’t just something I thought would be fun to do ‘on a whim’. I worked hard to save up the money to come here because I wanted to see you and spend time with you—however little time you may be able to work into your schedule. And I promise I won’t get scared or make you stop your chase. If I don’t like it, I’ll suck it up until it’s over then not ask to go again.” Taking a step forward, you gently placed your hand on his arm and gave him a timid smile. “Let me show you who I am now…how much I’ve changed. Please, Scotty.”
But Scott yanked his arm away and took a step back. “I don’t care where you go, but you need to stay away from me and Storm PAR. Now, I have work to do.” He took one last look at you, and, for just a moment, you thought maybe he felt bad for what he said and was reconsidering things. But then, he blew a small bubble with his gum and popped it loudly in your face. You jumped slightly, the sound sharp and startling, before glaring at him. He had been doing that since you were kids and he knew how much you absolutely despised it. Shooting you one last smug smirk, Scott turned and walked off towards the cluster of Storm PAR vehicles. 
You turned to look out into the open field, lip quivering, as you fought against the tears that were burning your eyes. Things between you and Scott had been pretty bad when he left for college, but you hadn’t realized he still really thought so poorly of you. The last few holidays or family events he had been forced to come to, things seemed to be getting a little better. You thought that maybe you had reached a turning point in your relationship. But now it was clear you had been very wrong.
Looking back at the diner and overflow of vehicles, you wondered what you should do now. You had no idea when the next bus came by or how to get a ticket home or if there was a motel nearby you could stay in for the night or how you would even get there if there was or what you would do in the morning or—
UGH! The longer you stared at the Storm PAR logo on the side of the van Scott had disappeared into, the less hurt you felt. Instead, the pain began to shift into outrage. How dare Scott treat you like this? You had spent a lot of money and wasted two weeks of your summer vacation to take this trip to see him. You knew it would involve listening to him drone on about numbers and graphs you could barely comprehend for most of the time, but you were willing to smile, nod, and seem interested to show you cared about what he did. But no! He didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself or prove that you weren’t here to interfere with his work. He had just torn you down before turning his back on you and walking away. That asshole!
The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky and you realized standing here fuming about Scott wasn’t going to help your situation. You could do that once you found a bus schedule or a place to stay for the night. However, as you stormed back through the parking lot, something caught your eye. 
When you had come through the first time and passed the familiar-looking man and the long-haired guy with the camera, you had only seen their truck from behind. But now that you were looking at the front, you noticed the distinctive metal logo attached to the front of the truck’s grille: a tornado with horns jutting out the top of the vortex. And you realized why the man in the cowboy hat looked familiar. 
Scott might not talk to you very often, but during the instances that he had, you had heard plenty of complaints about Tyler Owens and his group of Tornado Wranglers. Everything they did was the complete opposite of how Storm PAR operated and it drove Scott crazy that while he was out there doing the “real work”, this group of amateur YouTube chasers were the ones getting all the attention and acclaim when all they were really doing was getting in Storm PAR’s way. 
And Scott seemed to have another level of hatred for Owens himself.    
Out of curiosity, you had looked up the Wranglers’ YouTube channel and found it pretty entertaining. While Scott viewed every aspect of his work with complete seriousness and professionalism, these guys tackled the same work like they were having the time of their lives. They were still informative, explaining to their viewers how tornadoes formed and the types of destruction they can cause, but they would then drive straight into the center of a funnel or take chat requests of crazy things to do in the storm. It honestly seemed like a great way to get people excited about learning about tornadoes while also keeping them entertained. And it seemed like their nearly 850,000 followers would agree. No wonder Scott hated them so much. 
Suddenly, you had an idea—the perfect little act of revenge.
Changing directions, you made your way over to Owens’s truck. You could see he was now alone, tinkering with the equipment attached to the bed of his truck. He had traded his white cowboy hat for a faded backward cap and had pushed his sleeves up above his elbows as he worked, his sun-bronzed skin on full display in the dying light.
Though you had only watched a handful of the Tornado Wranglers’ videos, you had a pretty good idea of the kind of man Tyler Owens was and how you could persuade him to help you. After all, these narcissistic, jacked-up truck-driving, overcompensating pretty boys were all the same. The kind who had been fawned and swooned over their entire adult lives just because they flashed a charming smile or a playful wink in the right direction. However, with just a little stroking of their ego or a bat of your eyes, they could become putty in your hands. All you had to do was introduce yourself.
Reaching the side of the truck, you tucked your hands into your back pockets so it thrust your chest forward and, biting your lip, called out coyly, “Hey there, cowboy.”
Owens glanced up, a curious smile curling across his lips as he saw you, his eyes traveling from your head to boot and back up. “Well, hello there.”
Giggling softly as you placed your hand on the side railing, you asked in a sing-songy voice, “You’re Tyler, right? The big...bad…tornado wrangler?” With each word, you walked your fingers across the railing, your eyes locked on his.
He leaned back, wiped his hands on his jeans, and said, “I might be. Depends on who’s asking.” He was still looking at you but his smile had slipped slightly and you realized you might not have grabbed his attention as well as you thought.
Placing both hands on the railing now, you pushed yourself up slightly, your chest pressed together, and you looked up at him from under your lashes. “What if I’m asking?”
Owens stared at you for a long moment, his eyes still examining you thoughtfully, though you were shocked to see they stayed locked on your face and didn’t dip down to your breast like you had expected. Then, finally, he said, “You seem like a nice girl, sweetheart, but I don't think I'm what you're looking for. Good luck though.” He gave you a kind, yet dismissive nod, and went back to whatever he had been working on.
Your jaw dropped, lips moving silently as you tried to figure out what just happened. This kind of thing always worked on guys like him in the past. Show a little skin, stroke their egos a little, and they would be wrapped around your finger in no time. But he hadn’t even given your act more than a passing glance. It was possible you weren’t his type or maybe he was in a committed relationship, but neither of those things had exactly deterred guys in the past. 
You turned around—properly dismissed—and were just about to walk away when another thought crossed your mind. What if…what if you had misjudged him? What if he wasn’t the kind of guy you assumed he was? From what you had seen in his videos, he was cocky and overconfident and a huge flirt, but what if that was all for the cameras? During your very brief interaction, he seemed polite and respectful even as you tried to throw yourself at him, something no other guy had ever done in that situation. 
Maybe you had gone about this all wrong. Maybe you needed a different approach. A more honest one…
You hurried around the other side of the truck so you were in front of him once more. Dropping all the over-the-top flirtatiousness from your voice, you said, “Okay, I’m sorry. I thought…it doesn’t matter what I thought, but the point is I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had a really shitty day and approached this situation all wrong.”
Owens didn’t raise his head, but his eyes drifted back in your direction. Feeling like he was offering you a chance, you explained, “Listen, the deal is I came here to surprise my brother with a visit, and as soon as he saw me, he told me he doesn’t want me here and I should fuck off out of his way.”
That got his attention. Looking up, his brow furrowed, Owens asked, “Your brother said that to you?”
You rolled your eyes and hit the heel of your palm against the side of the truck. “Well, not in those exact words but the sentiment was there. The point is, he told me he didn’t care where I went as long as I left him and his team alone. So, I plan on respecting his wishes…and wondered if I could hang out with your team instead.”
“Well–” He leaned back, clearly not interested in your request, but you cut him off before he could turn you down.
“Please! It’ll just be for a day or two. I promise not to get in the way or mess with any of your work. I just know he has a problem with you guys and seeing me with you will drive him insane.” 
Putting down the wrench he was holding, Owens shook his head. “Back up…who are we talking about now? Who’s your brother?”
You realized you needed to get better at introducing people into a conversation before jumping right in. “Scott? He works for Storm PAR?” He hesitated so you sighed and turned towards the other group of storm chasers at the other end of the lot. With one hand on your hip, you pointed lazily with the other, “The surly tall one who never takes off his stupid baseball cap?”
Instantly, Owens straightened up and you knew you had piqued his interest. Chuckling, he asked, “Wait, so you’re telling me Mr. Clipboard and Chewing Gum is your brother?” You nodded. “And you want my help messing with him?”
“Yeah, that about sums it up. So, will you do it?”
The cowboy leaned over the side of the truck and gave you a wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve come to the right place.”
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Part 2 coming 8/19!
Tag list: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, @writercole,
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@hopeurokays, @lonelysoul50, @bobfloydssunnies, @rebra1863, @mirrorball-6,
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 5 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Part 5 of Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.
Word Count: 9.8 k
Warnings: light mentions of smut (nothing explicit), pining, mutual pining, heavy angst, forcing a decision
Captain Price bristles at the private’s words, taken aback by this impromptu revelation, but he hides it all behind his usual stone cold stare. A gruff exhale exits his lips as he runs his fingertips over the perimeter of his mustache. “Don’t care ‘bout what happens on off hours,” he says full of contempt at being dragged into this bullshit. “It’s none of my business and it’s none of yours either, so best just drop it private.”
This isn’t how it’s supposed to go; the captain is supposed to march over to the lieutenant’s quarters and break up your little lovefest right this second at hearing his confession. At least that was what the private was hoping for when he decided to make this visit. He needs something more. 
“But sir,” he says more exasperatedly, “it isn’t just after hours. The first time I caught them, the lieutenant and sergeant were going at it in the munitions depot when I walked in; you remember that day you sent me to fetch Lt. Riley. They’ve even been engaging in activities in the field as well. During our mission they neglected their watch duties to screw around like some fucking teenagers. Is that what you call acceptable, sir? Is this how you run your operations?”
Goddammit, now it is Price’s problem. Messing around when off duty or on leave is one thing that can be easily overlooked as you are both adults who are engaging in activities with consent, but risking it all when out in the field is another matter altogether. There are protocols and you are supposed to be professionals. And if this bit of information gets out it could have dire consequences for the validity of this task force. 
“Maybe I should bring my concerns up to someone higher,” the private mutters in the silence that follows as Price mulls over everything in his mind. 
“What did ya say?” the captain fires back as he rejoins the conversation, his firm glare boring holes into the private.
Immediately the young man regrets having uttered it aloud, but there’s no going back now. “I just… I-if I need to, I-I will have to go above you, sir,” he stammers out as he tries to maintain his resolve.
Fuck, this is bad.
Price sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving the private even though he tries to divert his gaze; each time he brings it back Price is ready to meet it head on. “You will leave this be private,” Price threatens, his voice firm. “This is not under your jurisdiction, nor is it in your ability to decide who needs discipline in these matters. I will take care of it as I see fit; I am the one in charge, not you. Do you understand?”
“Sir, I should at least get to know that you are going to do…” the private tries to argue some more, but the captain is having none of it.
“You’re dismissed,” Price barks as he points a steady hand towards the door.
“But sir…” he tries to protest again and again he is cut off. 
“I said, dismissed private, or would you rather I start my disciplining with you,” Price says unyieldingly, staring him down with a glare that means he is seriously done with this conversation and with being disrespected. 
Quickly the private gets up from his seat with a furrow-browed nod and a rushed, pointed ‘yes, sir,’ that he mutters through his gritted teeth before he turns on his heels and stalks to the door to fling it open and stomp off into the night, leaving Price alone in his office once more as he slams it behind him. 
With the immediate quiet that follows, all Price can think about is what the private has revealed to him. To have the highly trained professional that is Simon Riley abandon everything to mess around with anyone during a mission is unheard of, but it being you makes this even more complicated. This is territory he has no prior knowledge on; something big must be happening for everything to be turned on its head and he doesn’t know what the fuck he is going to do about it all.
Though he knows he cannot just let this go. At least he has the weekend to think it all over, but he knows come Monday he is going to have to act or risk too much because that private is not going to let this go, that much is clear.
The captain decides that that is enough for the night and packs it up to head out. As he leaves out and turns to get back to his own quarters, his eyes linger over to where a specific officer is housed. “What the fuck have ya done Simon?” Price questions aloud to himself as he steps off into the darkness with much weighing on his mind, pondering the next steps of what actions must now be taken.
Back in the lieutenant’s room, hours pass in the blissfully exhaustive ecstasy produced from your union. Both of you slumber on peacefully, wrapped in one another, entirely unaware of anything outside the confines of the mattress until something unfamiliar makes Simon stir awake.
Intaking a full, deep breath, he fills his lungs with a flood of air as he comes back into consciousness, his eyes fluttering open in a mild panic from movement at his side. It takes him a moment to realize that it is you rolling back over to face him that has caught him off-guard; he forgot that you would still be in his bed. Mystery solved, he calmly settles back down into his pillow and watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, admiring how tranquil you look as your dark eyelashes rest delicately against your cheeks.
It’s been a long, long time since he’s slept beside anyone; he’d almost forgotten how comforting it can be to have another laying beside you. A weak smile spreads across his lips as careful fingers reach over to the side of your head so that he can tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
God, you’re beautiful just like this. How did he get so god damn lucky to have something so pure sleeping soundly next to him? You let out a whispered sigh and suddenly he is caught up in a whirlwind of feelings that have been in hibernation for years as his fingertips linger delicately against the soft flesh of your cheek a moment more. He wishes he could kick himself for not trying to get closer to you sooner, if only to have you here lying next to him as if it has always been this way.  
Those copper eyes drift to the plain black and white standard government issue clock tacked to the wall. It’s nearly five in the morning; still too early to be conscious just yet, but once he’s up there’s no going back down. He takes a few more minutes to silently appreciate your sleeping form by capturing the image of you like a polaroid in his mind and then decides to just let you sleep until the last minute before he wakes you up to send you safely on your way.
Who said you needed to rush off anyway? 
As carefully as all 6’4” of him can, he eases his way out of the bed and creeps bare-arsed to the en suite bathroom so that he can grab a quick shower, though he’d like nothing more than to keep the scent of you on him a little longer. It won’t do him any favors to go around base today with the fragrance of sex covering him like a beacon to draw people’s unwanted attention.
Cautiously he eases the bathroom door to where it is slightly ajar, not risking shutting it since he knows how bad the damned thing squeaks, and only then does he flick on the fluorescent lights to illuminate the space. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the harsh brilliance, he opens them and immediately catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that faces the door.   
Even though he still carries the signs of sleep in his distinct features, he can already tell that he is different somehow and he walks closer to his reflection to get a better look. Everything is exactly where it should be, but his eyes seem brighter, more full of life… as if he is happier than he has been in recent memory. He stares back into them as if he is looking at a different person, a reunion with an old friend he hasn’t seen in a long time.  
And he doesn’t know what to think. It is a gift from you, after all…though you don’t even know you’ve given it to him yet.
Simon shakes his head and chuckles to himself, not fully ready to accept this drastic change to his appearance just yet, as he pulls from the mirror and walks the few steps to the shower to get it going. The pipes running to the showerhead squeak to life as run for a few seconds when without warning he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind as a warm, naked chest presses into his back. It momentarily takes him by surprise as he is still getting used to having someone around, but he eventually settles into your embrace. 
“Was tryin’ not to wake ya yet,” he mutters as he runs his hand over yours that is against his stomach.
“Heard the shower kick on,” you murmur sleepily into his shoulder as you place your lips to the smooth skin near his shoulder blade, “thought I could do with getting clean myself, so I wanted to join you.”
It isn’t a total lie, you do need to wash up after the mess from the night before, though you wish you could be honest and say that you just wanted to be close while you still can. You know you are going to have to leave soon if you want to make it back to your quarters without detection, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that looms like a gray cloud at the back of your mind that you will have to part ways. 
Simon holds your palms pressed rigid and flat against his abdominals so you can’t let go as he leans in to check the temperature of the water with his free hand. The heated liquid rains down onto his palm perfectly warm, but not too hot, and being satisfied he pulls you both inside the cozy oasis. 
He moves you in front of him so that your back is directly under the shower head, letting the heated water run through the length of your hair and down the curves of your bare back to keep you warm. It feels like you’re still in a dream the way the steam rises around your bodies in the tight space, the condensation clinging to your skin like a warm blanket. Maybe you are still asleep in his bed, you feel barely awake as it is, and if that’s the case you hope you don’t wake up cause you don’t want to leave the fantasy just yet. 
The soothing water lulls you into a drowsy calm as Simon holds you close against him while he naturally rocks you both back and forth with slow, easy movements as he gently tries to help you wake up. He cannot help admiring the flush in your face brought on by the heat or the way the droplets trickle over your soft, delicate skin. Reaching out, his hand connects with your cheek as he strokes his coarse thumb over your jaw and up to the corner of your mouth before dragging it heavily over your bottom lip until he has them parted. 
“I swear you’re a fuckin’ dream, pretty girl,” he whispers as his hand on your face brings it in towards his so that he can gently connects your lips. 
Memories of confessions from the night before spring back to the surface, admissions of possession that he doesn’t want to take back even though that mind-numbing haze from being inside you is gone. You can hear him sigh heavily as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.
If only he could wake up like this every day. Could that even be a possibility for someone like him? Inside the steam-filled oasis that cloaks you both from reality, he allows himself to fantasize just a little. Maybe…maybe…
Simon lets you go only to grab the soap from its place sitting on the edge of the tub, ready to clean up the mess he made. Taking care of someone other than himself is an oddly comforting sensation to him and even though you try to protest that he doesn’t have to, he still takes the time to wash you down anyway before tending to himself. 
He leaves you inside the shower to finish up as he steps out into the bathroom, wrapping a towel securely around his hips, making sure to leave a towel for you as well before he heads to the mirror. His rigorous actions between your legs last night left a rather rough patch against your thigh that he caught sight of in the shower and checking his face in the foggy bit of glass above the sink, Simon decides it’s about time to shave.
…cause he is definitely going to get between those legs again soon. 
A bag of random toiletries lies at the edge of the sink and he rummages around in it until he locates his razor. He steps up to the counter and turns on the sink just as the creak from the shower handle rings out and the water is shut off. From the mirror he can see you step out and wrap the towel he’s set out for you around your chest. 
You ring out your hair behind you before you move to his side and turn to rest your butt against the edge of the countertop. Looking down, you spy the shaving instrument in his hand.
“Gettin’ rid of it?” you ask with a hint of disappointment as you reach up and run your fingertips over his jaw. The steam from the shower has already softened the hairs so they don’t prickle roughly against your touch as you outline his face.
Suddenly he can’t find his voice; every single time you touch him it’s like the first time all over again and it makes his head spin. Clearing his throat he looks down at you. “It’s a bit too rough, innit?” he says, tapping at your thigh with the abrasion on it. “Don’t wanna hurt ya again.”
Why did it sound more deep a sentiment than it should have been? A lump wells in your throat as you realize he is doing this for you and you alone; it’s just a shave, but to have him care about your wellbeing is very special to you. Especially after the confessions from the night before; clearly he has meant it: you belong to him now.
“Well, if you must…but, I wonder. Can I?” you ask with a smile as you reach for the blade in his hand.
Simon pauses before giving it up to you. This is a new one for him and he is a little unsure, but curious enough to see where it leads. You move your body between him and the counter so that you can hop up and sit yourself in front of him. Opening your legs, you pull him in close.
“You trust me, don’t you?” you ask barely above a whisper as you situate him in the middle of your legs. 
More than anyone, he thinks to himself as he silently stares back into your eyes. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t have to, he just drops his hands by his sides and tilts his jaw up.
Your ankles link behind the small of his back as your hand grasps his chin to keep his head steady so you can place the razorblade to his cheek. The sharp edge of the blade pushes into his skin and is dragged slowly down the line of his face until it reaches your hand where you pick it up to move on to the next section. It’s like an intimate dance, the risk of it all as the blade continues to pass over his skin, but you skill keeping him safe from cuts, making his heart race so you can feel his pulse under your fingertips.
“Just hold still,” you say as you feel the sensation of his hands moving up your bare thighs, running up towards your hips that have peeked out through the slit in the towel. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Ya won’t,” he says in that gruff tone without hesitation and you can feel the warmth rise in your face. 
There is steam still lingering in the air from the shower; it is fogging the mirror and adds a filmy haze to the atmosphere. The aroma of his soap is strong between your bodies, both of you coated in his usual plain, clean scent. It’s nice just being here like this with him. 
Another pass of the blade and more of that thick stubble comes right off under your careful hand. You move the blade over to the sink to rinse it again and that’s when you feel it, a stabbing against your thigh from within the confines of his towel. His damp, hair-covered chest rubs against your forearms as he moves in even tighter to you.
“Like the way ya look, all serious like when you’re workin’ hard at somethin’,” he says in a breathy whisper as you finish another swipe of the razorblade across his jaw. “Didn’t know how good you’d be with a sharp object in your hand.”
“Well, if you keep moving I might not be so precise. I’m almost done,” you scold him, but Simon isn’t deterred just because you have something sharp in your hand. He has something just as deadly prodding into you too.
His strong fingertips jab themselves into your hips, stabbing into the meat hard through the towel as he presses himself into you and suddenly it feels like you can’t quite catch your breath. He hums deep in his chest, a low, guttural sound that makes your clit throb as those long fingers of his twirl the loose, wet strands of your hair between them.
“I’ll give ya ‘bout another minute to get it done,” he says as his gaze lingers longingly on your mouth. “That’s all I can wait.” 
Suddenly the room isn’t the only thing that is obscured in a haze; your mind is misfiring terribly now as you hurry to finish the job while also being sure you don’t miss any spots. You rinse the blade for the last time and quickly check him over, flashing him a satisfied smile at your handiwork. 
“I thought we just got clean for the day?” you ask as he takes the blade from your hand and sets it on the countertop beside you.  
He doesn’t answer the question with words, instead letting his mouth do something else to convey his thoughts. His kiss is softer now with the missing stubble, though just as passionate as it always is and it takes your breath away. 
“I like the way you kiss me,” you murmur against his lips. 
“Good, cause I don’t plan on stoppin’ anytime soon, sweetheart,” he groans as his fingers reach up to your chest to find the edge of the towel; with one small tug he has it undone. It drops down around the sink as he leans in more aggressively to capture your mouth.  
There’s still enough time for another shower, right? Fuck, at this point he’ll make time.
Dawn is just beginning to break its first soft light over the base as you step out of the shower for the second time and hurriedly get dressed. Simon meets you at the door with a knot in the pit of his stomach; time’s up whether he is ready or not and if you want to make it back undetected it has to be now.
“Got plans later tonight?” he asks as he pulls you to him one last time.
You look up into his face and shake your head. “Not that I know of. Gonna be a light day today. Why?”
Simon pins you against him with his arm around your waist as he tilts his head down to kiss your lips. “Just thinkin’ ya might want ta be in later,” he says, giving one last peck before he opens the door and you immediately take off in the direction of your personal quarters.
He keeps his eyes on you till you’re out of sight, trying to wipe away the slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he grumbles under his breath as he shuts the door.
The rest of the day is spent in a blur, punctuated by the few times you just happened to catch a glimpse of Simon through the days as you go about. Your mind constantly wanders back to what he meant by you might want to stay in later, so when Soap asks if you’re gonna come hang in the rec with them for a bit of Saturday fun, you decline and stay put in your room instead.   
It’s a little after 9 o’clock when there is a heavy knock on your door, loud raps that echo through the room and make you put away the book you are failing to distract yourself with under your bed. You hop off the mattress, your heart fluttering in your chest. Making it to the door and pulling it open you immediately come face to face with the person leaning against your door frame: Simon. 
“Ya gonna let me in, luv?” he asks. “Or ya just gonna fuckin’ leave me out ‘ere all night?”
You cross your arms and furrow your brow as if you are agitated, but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before you are breaking character. “Couldn’t stay away for one night, could you?” you pick back.
There is a visible smirk beneath the thin fabric of his lightweight balaclava. “ ‘S part a my routine,” he says as you grab his hand and drag him inside. “Too used to it now.” 
“Well far be it from me to stop you,” you say with a smile as you shut the door and bolt it behind you both while Simon quickly rips off the mask and pulls you into a kiss. 
“Knew you’d cave,” he breathes against your mouth.
“Maybe I like you around,” you say back.
Maybe I like bein’ around, he thinks as he kisses you back harder as you lead him over to your bed. 
Sunday evening is spent in the same vein except with you both switching off again so that you are the one to come over to his to spend your evening together. Cause he is right, this arrangement has become routine now and your day just doesn’t feel complete without seeing him. Unfortunately though, it being Sunday you both decide to call it earlier as your duties will call you to work early in the morning.
One lingering goodbye later and Simon is once again watching you walk away, secretly making a wish that maybe you’ll get the chance soon to spend more time together when something breaks him out of his thoughts. As he shuts the door behind you, suddenly he can hear a distinct buzzing coming from somewhere near his bed. He knows that sound; it’s his cellphone. It’s late and he never gets a call at this time, so quickly he grabs it up off the nightstand near the bed and as soon as he is able to get a look at the screen, his heart sinks into the floor: Price is the one that is calling. 
He picks it up. “Yes, sir,” he answers in his usual stern tone.
There is a pause over the line before the captain speaks. “Lieutenant,” Price says, “I apologize for calling, I know it’s late, but I need to see you in my office tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. There are some things we urgently need to discuss.”
This strikes Simon as odd; never has the captain called him this late to inform him of a meeting the next day, so why would he be doing it now? Something feels off about it all and though he has no information other than that his presence is needed, there is something in Price’s tone that has his blood running cold. 
“What’s this about, sir?” Simon asks, keeping his voice metered as his heart begins to race. 
Price sighs. “I would rather wait till the mornin’ to talk further as this is something that needs to be discussed in person.”
“Yes, sir,” Simon agrees.  
“That is all lieutenant, enjoy the rest of your evening,” the captain says in a rush and with that the line goes dead, leaving Simon confused and slightly worried.
Time seems to drag on endlessly as anxiety keeps him up the entire night tossing and turning as he stares into the ceiling. He thinks about texting you just to see if you’re up, but he talks himself out of it. His needless worries shouldn’t bother you, even though he knows you’d answer him in a heartbeat. No, he just needs to get through the night and then in the morning everything will be settled; it’s going to be fine.
An hour before he is supposed to meet the captain and Simon is already up and dressed; his office is less than a ten minute walk from Simon’s, but he wants to be early. It’s better to just get this over with so he can enjoy the rest of his day and make plans to see you later. With twenty minutes still to go he heads out and makes his way across the base. 
With a knock on the door, he waits until Price looks up before entering the office. 
“Early as usual,” the captain greets him.
“Better than late,” he says, before nodding back behind him. “Ya want me to shut the door?” 
“Not yet,” Price says and Simon leaves the doorway to take his seat in one of the chairs facing the large, wooden desk.
He’s sitting for just a few minutes before Price’s eyes dart up to the door and he can feel the shadow of another person standing there. “Ah, yes, come in and shut the door. Now that you are both here, we can get started,” he hears the captain say as he turns his head to see who it is that has arrived; he had been under the impression that this was a solo meeting this whole time.
Suddenly his heart stops as the person comes into his line of sight. It’s you, the blood draining from your face as you see him sitting there. It’s clear you have been caught off-guard by this as much as he has. The atmosphere becomes tense and strained as you take a seat next to Simon. Captain Price sits tall with authority as he stares back at the pair of you, a grave look in his gaze. 
“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” Price asks, looking first at you, then the lieutenant.
Neither of you feel keen enough to say anything, but you finally speak up first, if only to break the anxiety bubbling under your moderately calm surface. “No, sir.”
Price takes a hesitant breath. “I have been informed over the weekend about you both engaging in acts of misconduct,” he says firmly. “You’ve been seen cavorting with one another on several occasions. Now, there are things that can be overlooked and if it were up to me I woulda simply turned a blind eye and pretended to know anything, but it has been brought to light that these ‘activities’ were done while out in the field on your latest mission. Is this true?” 
The hair on Simon’s arms is standing on end and he feels like he is about to be sick, the bile violently churning in his stomach as his worst fear is realized. Instantly he feels guilty and begins to blame himself; this is all his fault. After all, he was the one to break protocol back at the safehouse. His careless actions have caught up to you both and now you will have to face the consequences.
Price turns his attention to you as there is no hiding the guilt on your face like Simon can behind his mask and though neither of you have spoken yet to confirm, there is no need. Your body language mixed with his lieutenant’s silence alone tells him that the accusations that were made are indeed true.  
“You both understand that this is out of my hands,” Price emphasizes the point. “If this reaches anywhere outside this base my authority will be brought into question and this operation cannot afford that. Not to mention that I risk the possibility of losing either one or both of you if things escalate. What the hell were you thinkin’, doin’ that while deployed?”
The lieutenant doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that will make this all go away. The problem is that he wasn’t thinking; all he knew was that for the first time in a long while he wanted something so bad that the consequences didn’t matter in that moment. Now he has to pay for them and unfortunately that means you do as well…and that is what is breaking his heart. 
He has dragged you into hell with him.
“You both have crossed a line that I can’t pull you back from,” Price continues with a defeated exhale. In all honesty, he wants nothing more than to let this go, but there are too many variables at stake. “The one who reported this is threatening to take this up the ladder as far as they need if I do nothing. My hands are tied on the matter.”
“Sir, if you’ll let me explain, perhaps we can come to an agreement…” you try to reason with your captain, but that is not how this will go.
Price can hear the tremble in your voice and he knows he’s struck a chord. The look he gives you is one full of remorse. “But in the end we’re all adults here and that means ya have a say in what happens to yourselves. If you want to request a transfer or, hell, apply for a discharge, I can’t stop you; that is a decision you have a right to make.”
The wind feels like it has been knocked from Simon’s lungs and though he can see Price talking, his mind will not allow him to fully comprehend what is being said. 
Amidst the stunned hush that has fallen over the room, Price slowly pushes his chair out from the desk and makes his way to stand. “I know I’ve sprung this on you both without so much as a warning, so I’ll give you some time alone to make your decisions. Otherwise, I will have to make them for you and that is something I want to avoid.”
With that he steps out of the office, closing the door behind him, and thrusting you both into an uncomfortably tense stillness. It lingers for far too long as Simon battles internally with what to do, struggling to accept that his happiness has imploded as it always does, but one thing he keeps coming back to is the fact that no matter what, you will be forced to separate if one or both of you decide to stay in this line of work.  
The taskforce means everything to you just as it does him and this is so much bigger than simply exploring the depths of a crush. This is your entire life, all the blood, sweat, and effort you’ve both put in to be here; it’s all you’ve worked so hard for. It is all you both have ever known. 
Can you really give that all up? It’s too soon to be having this type of life-altering conversation.
Out of the turmoil in his mind, he hears you calling his name. “Simon? Hey,” you call out to him again to get his attention; it feels like he is a million miles away even though he is still sitting right beside you. 
He can’t bear to look you in the face and keeps his eyes locked on his shoes; his gaze is so avoidant that it is painful, especially after how close you both have become. Still, you try your hardest to lighten the mood even through the ache making your chest tight. 
“Not the best way to start the morning,” you chuckle uncomfortably. 
More silence follows, more agony. He’s going to have to say something at some point and when he does it’s all going to come crashing down. As long as he is quiet he can suspend the moment for as long as possible. 
“Listen,” you say, “I know this sounds bad, but we can figure it out. I mean, I don’t have a problem with requesting the transfer if I have to.”
That’s the last thing he wants; you can’t leave. If you leave it will kill him. “Sweetheart… don’t…” Simon speaks up for the first time since you entered the office and it sounds like he’s being tortured. 
“Would a transfer really be so bad? Who knows? It could just be for a short while until everything cools off,” you remark, still hopeful, but he simply shakes his head.
Simon pauses. “No, ya can’t do that,” he says and you can feel a lump forming in the base of your throat that makes you almost gag.
“Isn’t it my decision? Don’t I get a say in what I do?” you push.
Another drawn out pause. “Ya don’t wanna do that, I know ya don’t.”
“Don’t speak for me,” you say harshly as you know where this is headed and you can’t stand even the thought of it. “I can choose to do what I want.”
“I can’t let ya do that,” he denies you again, his words firm. “I can’t let ya fuckin’ give up everythin’ for me, no matter how much I may want it. Ya forget I read your personnel file when ya arrived, I know ya worked your ass off ta get ‘ere. You made it all the way ta sergeant by the sweat of your brow. Don’t fuckin’ throw it all away jus’ for somethin’ so new.”
More pauses. Why is there so much silence present now? It hurts to have all that quiet be filled with sadness where it was only comfort before. 
“So, this is it then?” Your heart is shattering into pieces, you can physically feel it crumble as you suffocate on the sadness. When did this get so god damn complicated?
Simon bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste copper. “I don’t know what else ta fuckin’ do…” he says quietly. “This is all so sudden, I don’t ‘ave a plan. I just know ya can’t leave and I need more time.”
He’s not as quick to act on this as you are and you can’t fault him for that. In all honesty he isn’t wrong; this is all happening so fast that it’s overwhelming and nothing really feels like the right decision. So, even though it pains you to concede to his argument, you do and the heartbreak wins. Yet you cling on to the hope that maybe there is a way out of this. He did not say outright that he is completely done, only that he needs time to think. 
You can give him time, right?
“Please, Simon, just look at me.”
Those brown eyes drift up to meet yours and the agony of this whole fucked up situation is written in his gaze. This is supposed to be something wonderful, not something that has casualties, and he is being ripped apart by duty and what he wants most. He wants to scream, beat his fists, break anything, but it won’t do any good; he is like a man cursed…somehow this was always going to happen.
“ ’m sorry,” he says and a heavy bit of silence follows as you sit there just looking at one another. 
Overcome with emotion, you swallow hard. “I know,” you retort as you reach out to take his hand in yours. “I know.”
Simon slides his long fingers in between the spaces in yours and holds on so tight to your hand it’s almost painful. Irrationally he thinks that maybe if he squeezes hard enough not even fate can take you from him, but that isn’t the case. There is no stopping what has to happen and though you both can prolong the moment, you can’t stop time. 
Releasing his grasp, he lets you go and all at once you feel like you’re drowning. He leaves your side only for a moment to reopen the door as a sign that a decision has been made. Several more excruciating minutes pass, but eventually Price reenters the office and again takes his seat. There is a gloom that sits in the room now like a fog and he knows without even having to ask that a decision has been reached and it is one that clearly was not reached happily.
“It’s over, sir,” Lt. Riley confirms with the short response; any more than that and he may fall apart.
Price nods in acknowledgement. “In that case, I think it best to send ya both out on separate missions very soon. It’ll show that action has been taken in case anything else comes from the allegations. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter; I know it could not have been easy.”
You nod back firmly in agreement and Lt. Riley does the same. 
Price quickly dismisses you both and you immediately bolt up from your seat to make it to the door in a flurry of quick steps, too overwhelmed by your emotions to sit still another second more beside the one thing you can no longer have. You can’t seem to catch your breath and even though you make it outside of the stifling atmosphere inside the office, it does not lessen. 
Your feet carry you forward to where you have no clue; there is no rational thought left with you right now. All you know is that you need to put distance between everything and everyone that you can before you shatter because it hurts like you are being torn in half from the inside and if you are going to rupture you want to do it where no one can see.
But grief is a volatile and disastrous thing; it consumes and destroys and confuses. Right now, your mind is scrambling to feel something other than the pain of your loss, any other emotion it can experience that won’t murder it and it settles on the emotion that is the opposite side of grief: anger.
Halfway across the site you spot that familiar mohawked head near the mess hall and a rage builds in you. You and Simon had speculated before about Johnny’s knowledge of your situation, what if he was the one that told Price? Intentional or not, what if he is the reason all this is destroyed? There is not a shred of proof, but your brain is desperate to find someone to blame, anyone to throw all your anger on and that just happens to be him. Before you can stop yourself, you are already bounding his way. 
Johny looks up as you come within earshot, turning his back to the building. “Hey, stranger, ‘aven’t seen ye ‘round much this weekend. Wonder why that is?” he says with a knowing smirk, but it drops from his face as he sees the look on yours. 
Without warning you grab Johnny by the collar and manhandle him until you are able to haul him forward and slam into the wall behind him, knocking the wind from his lungs as you crush him up against the concrete. “Was it you?” you spat the question with fury into his face. “Tell me now or so help me God…”
“What the fuckin’ hell are ye talkin’ ‘bout?” he asks back as he struggles under your tight grip around his collar. “Have ye lost yer mind?”
Blinded by rage, you pull him back only to shove him harder into the wall. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you say, the venom in your voice full of acid. “Were you the one that ran like a bitch to tattle on me to Price? You better have a fucking good reason why.”
Johnny pauses and stops struggling against your grip, confused. “Wait, what?” he asks. “Someone’s gone te Price ‘bout somethin’? Ye gotta explain everythin’ cause I don’t get it; seriously, what’s this about?”
The tone of his voice causes you to really discern the look in his eyes: he is genuinely confused by your statement. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?” you question.
He shakes his head. “No and I’m bein’ serious.”
In the time you’ve known him, Johnny has always been straight with you and you do genuinely trust him to tell you the truth. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but honesty is always something that you have shared. If he says he doesn’t know, he must really not know.
“Tell me, what’s happened?” he asks, his brows drawn together as he stares back at you with serious concern. 
You choke back the emotion gathered in your throat as your eyes sting. No sense in hiding anything; he’d probably find out eventually anyway if gossip gets around. Besides, keeping this inside makes you feel like you’re rotting. “Price knows about what me and the lieutenant have been doing in secret and what we did while we were on our last mission,” you admit as you hang your head. 
Johnny is silent for a moment. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he says with a chuckle, which he immediately regrets as you pop your head up to give him a heated glare. “No, I… look, jus’ listen ta me for a moment.”
Releasing him from your grasp you take a step back, the anger subsiding to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. Tears burn around the rims of your eyes at how lost you feel and how easily you are flying off the handle; it makes you worried. How are you meant to control this? How are you meant to survive?
Johnny straightens himself up and continues. “Yes, I knew ‘bout ye and the lieutenant…cause I was the one that orchestrated the whole setup. I seen tha way ye two kept eyein’ each other an’ I decided that ye both needed a push in tha right direction. Why the hell would I get ye together only ta get ye in trouble with Price?” 
You divert your gaze again. “Well, it’s all over now,” you can barely say aloud; just hearing yourself speak it into existence feels like being stabbed in the chest. “Whoever ratted us out is threatening to go above Price’s head if they need to. There’s nothing left for us to do, but end it or shit’s gonna get worse. It’s already done.”
Fuck, you can’t hold back for much longer and the last thing you need is to cry, but a pair of strong hands clasp around your shoulders to bring you back from the brink of your sadness. 
“Look,” Johnny tries to reassure as he is genuinely worried about your wellbeing. “I’ll figure out who it was that stuck their bloody nose in it, alright? Jus’ leave it ta me; I’ll get ye a name and hell, I’ll help ye gut the bastard if ye need. We’ll figure it out, honest.”
Somehow you don’t think anything will come of it, but at least it is something. Right now hope is a drug you have to take just to get through.
Days pass the same way with little variation in your mood. You try to stay as busy as you possibly can, filling your schedule to the brim with as much work as Price can give you. He doesn’t mention it, but everything he assigns you seems to keep you from even crossing paths with your former lover and for that you are grateful. Then a few days become a week and a week becomes two, but time does nothing to stop the ache in your chest and at the end of each day, when you return to your room and the quiet hits you, it’s impossible not to shed a few tears into your pillow as you pine for the company you once had. 
Thankfully mission assignments finally go out and you can spend your time consumed in preparation to depart to fill the void that settles in your chest. It’s a couple of days before you are meant to leave and information makes its way through the grapevine that Lt. Riley is headed out tonight with his team and god if it doesn’t kill you not even to get the chance to say goodbye.
You can’t even finish your lunch today; you are so upset by the news that you quickly toss your food into the trash and head out. You’re so wrapped in your thoughts you don’t even hear Johnny calling to you until he has caught up to you outside of the mess hall and is grabbing your elbow to drag you alongside him. Where are you going? You have no clue.   
“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, not up for whatever bullshit he’s trying to pull today. 
“Jus’ keep walkin’,” he says, his head constantly on a swivel as if he is looking for something. You try to protest, but it gets you nowhere as he keeps booking it across the base with you in hand until you both reach the munitions depot where he finally comes to a stop and lets you go. 
You look up at the building. “Why are we here?”
“Keep yer head and jus’ go inside,” Johnny says as he gives you a shove towards the door. “Ye only got a couple minutes, so ‘urry the hell up.”
You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about? You really aren’t in the mood for his shit, but you also don’t have the energy in you to fight him on it; you let out a weighted huff and grab the handle, pulling it hard so that the door swings open and you head inside. 
“What the fuck am I supposed to be looking for?” you question yourself.
There is movement and you hear the sound of boot steps. “That would be me,” a gravelly voice sounds at your side, making you jump.  
You are thrown into respiratory distress as you turn around where you’re greeted with that familiar mask and its wearer is just standing within reach. “Simon,” you breathe his name like a prayer, forgetting decorum.
“Wrangled Mactavish inta helpin’ me, said he’d bring ya and guard the door,” Lt. Riley says as he stands there, unsure of what to do with his hands. “I-” he sighs, “I had ta see ya ‘fore I leave.” 
Suddenly the room is spinning and you can’t figure out which way is up. After the agonizing chasm of space that has been put between you it is disorienting to be this close again and you aren’t sure what to do. Do you run into his arms? Do you keep your distance?
It doesn’t make sense.
“I know I shouldn’t have brought ya ‘ere like this,” he says, “but I…missed ya.” He pauses and sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose through the mask. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’. I’m supposed ta follow orders no questions asked, but…” 
Standing there, waiting on bated breath, you stare back at him with those big doe eyes until you are able to speak and break the silence. “But what?”
More silence follows your question as he steps closer and closer and closer. Then he stops and there are only inches between your bodies. He reaches out his hand and the backs of his gloved fingers brush against your own with a touch so delicate it doesn’t seem humanly possible, most of all from someone like the lieutenant. 
“Priorities are changin’,” he admits as he takes your hand into his grasp hesitantly, eyes unable to look anywhere but at the connection as if he isn’t sure if he should touch you at all. “I never experienced somethin’ like this before. I don’t know what the fuck to do.” 
“Are you saying you want to go against Price?” 
His sight lingers on your conjoined hands as his jaw shifts under the mask, struggling to find the words. As he clears his throat, his gaze finally draws back to your face to meet your eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything, you can read the sentiment in his gaze: he is being tortured by being forced to choose between his duty to this task force and what he wants above all else. 
“Listen, yeah? As long as we follow orders, we get ta stay near each other. Fight it and who knows what the fuck’ll happen. I…” he pauses, the pain of confession hard to stand, “I don’t know if I can risk not bein’ able to see ya at all, sweetheart. Even just a glimpse cross the way.”
“You think that is better than one of us leaving?” you want to ask, but the question dies on your tongue and in its place is only a bitter taste in your mouth. 
You know if you say anything at all it’s only going to make it harder- for the both of you. You are just two soldiers bound by a need to do what is right and nothing is going to change that. Fuck do you want to scream, to rage at what you are being strong-armed into doing against your will, yet your exterior stays a calm mask against the storm inside. The situation puts you between a rock and a hard place and though you don’t want to admit it he is ultimately right; if all you get is to have nothing or what you had before all this mess started, then you would choose the latter.
At least you can still be around one another; at least you can still see him. Even if every time you do it is going to shatter your heart all over again.
Lt. Riley feels like he is being ripped apart as he catches the agonizing pain in your eyes. “I need ya ta know, if circumstances were different…” 
You stop him before he can say more by gently placing your hand against his covered lips; you cannot bear to hear anything else about ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. It’s too painful right now to dream. Accepting reality is the only thing that is going to help you survive now. The lieutenant’s eyes drop to the floor as he comes to terms with the fact that some things are better left unsaid. 
Removing your hand from the fabric of his mask, you can feel that recognizable mass welling in your throat and you know you are going to have to leave soon or risk him seeing you cry. That is an image you don’t want to leave him with, not if this is what he has to see before he goes.
“I’m glad I got to see you before you leave,” you say while forcing your best smile for him. “It was hard thinking you’d leave and I wouldn’t get to say goodbye at least.”
He nods as he cups your cheek. “Ya be safe, yeah?” 
You lean into his touch and close your eyes; god, it’s hard not to enjoy his touch. “You too.” 
Time is slipping away fast like sand through a sieve and he knows that you only have a few short minutes left that you will go unnoticed so he blurts out the question that sits on the tip of his tongue and he can’t stop it from coming out. “One last kiss?” he asks, though he hates himself for doing so.
A ragged breath is pushed out of your lungs as your eyes flutter open. The question is surprising, but you already know the answer; you can’t say no because to deny him would mean denying yourself and your heart won’t let you. His hands paw at your face as his eyes beg. 
Your heartbeats mesh together as you press your body against his until they become one rhythm. He keeps his hands locked to your face as you reach up and slip the bottom of his mask up over his lips and rest it on top of his nose. It feels like you are holding your breath and time stops as you again capture his unwavering stare.   
“Make it count,” you breathe.
You can feel the shudder from his desperate inhale as he collapses into you like the burst from a dying star, crashing his fiery kiss onto your mouth with an intensity that makes your knees buckle, but he has you. His arms keep you up as he aggressively steals your lips over and over again, pinning his mouth on yours until it burns, stealing your breath, tasting your kiss, letting that gnawing ache that had been festering in his heart eat him alive.   
His intensity is matched with your own as you kiss him back with everything that you have. You need the feeling of his lips to be imprinted on yours for as long as they can and you push so hard he cannot catch air. But just as quickly as it started, it has to end.
“Eh, ye need ta ‘urry guys,” the sound of Soaps voice calls from the door, forcefully thrusting you both back into reality. Lt. Riley grips around your biceps and pries himself from you with everything he has and with that he bounds away as you fall to your knees and enfold your arms around yourself like a hug, the tears streaming down your cheeks in heavy, engorged droplets. 
He is gone.
The time away does nothing to ease the pain of your separation. Being off base makes your absence in his life even more prominent. You are in his head constantly after that last kiss, haunting him like a ghost that he cannot get rid of and though he knows he should, part of him won’t let go; he can’t. No, that’s not entirely it. Even if he could let go, he won’t.
The lieutenant’s days spent on assignment pass by agonizingly slow and he begins to realize that as much as he enjoys what he does, that it is no longer holding the same importance in his heart as it once did. That feeling has been replaced by something else and that is the way he felt with you. He had thrown everything outside of work to the wayside because never believed that he would get a chance at bits of normalcy in his life. Until you…
What if he is throwing away something that could fulfill him more than his work with the 141? Could he live with that? Whenever he finds himself with a free moment, he spends them silently contemplating that question, mulling it over incessantly in his mind even though he keeps returning to the same conclusion: he can’t live with it. 
He would rather regret leaving all this behind if it meant he could be with you than to regret letting you slip through his fingers. And he desperately wants to tell you that he finally knows what to do.
The thought eats at him until one night, as he lays awake staring at the pitch black ceiling, he can no longer take it and without thinking he is digging through his pack to grab his cell phone and just like that the small, square device is in his hand and he is turning it on. As the light pierces through the darkness, missed call after missed call pops up on the screen all from… Mactavish?  
It’s only been off for a few hours. What the fuck is going on?
Lt. Riley hurriedly moves himself into a quiet corner away from the others sleeping and quickly redials the number. The repetitive ringing continues until they instantaneously stop and the young sergeant answers with an urgency in his tone that makes the lieutenant’s heartbeat pound in his ears.
“LT, fuck, been tryin’ te get a hold a ye fer a while now,” Soap says over the receiver. “Don’t ye ever answer yer god damn phone?”
The lieutenant tries to speak quietly so that he won’t draw any prying ears into eavesdropping on this conversation. “What the hell sergeant? Ya think I just have all the fuckin’ time to chitchat?”
Soap ignores the lieutenant’s agitation; this is more important and he is risking a lot by even having this conversation at all, so it’s gotta be quick. “ ‘Ave ye spoken te Price? Laswell? Anyone back ‘ere?” he asks as if insisting on a swift answer.
“No,” Lt. Riley confirms. “Haven’t had a need. Why?”
“Fuck, so no one’s said anythin’ te ye yet?” Soap questions as if the fact is distressing him.
“ ‘Bout what? Today, Mactavish,” Lt. Riley says with a hint of unchecked panic in his voice. Nothing about how Mactavish sounds is making the lieutenant feel any better, not the way whatever it is has him flustered like this. 
“We ‘ave a situation,” he says firmly and what comes out of his mouth next makes the usually calm and collected lieutenant nearly drop his phone as his entire body goes numb. “The sergeant and her team deployed right after ye, as ye know… all was fine until a few days ago.”
Simon can’t breathe as Soap finishes his sentence. “...we’ve lost contact…they’re all currently MIA.”
Tag list: @flameohotpotatooo @shadowtfpcod @xnyx1n @igotmajordaddyissues @essentialbeats-blog @mishaglass
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kikyan · 1 year
Text
Confession
CW: Yandere content means yandere content y’all, stalking, dub-con/non-con, masturbation, disgusting themes, panty stealer, fingering, oral (receiving), overstimulation, breeding themes(slightly?), creampie, power bottom Idia, slight masochist Idia, kidnapping, shit ass writing, I think that’s all, etc… 
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 
Character: Idia Shroud x GN! Reader
Word Count: 7.2K words 
A/N: This is a birthday fic for one of my IRL besties, an Idia simp. Another thing, this is a yandere blog so it’s not canon to their personalities at all but more my interpretation of them if THEY were yanderes. So take that as you will! This is with a GN reader so there is no anatomy assigned or pronouns other than they/them (I did proofread it but lmk if there are any errors!)
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‘ Click’ 
‘ Click’ 
Yellow eyes darted across from the screens as he was looking at the contents. Classes were over and his homework was completed quicker than he used to have it done. He was still a housewarden with duties and responsibilities after all, besides he needed the rest of the day free to partake in his favorite hobby. Stalking [Reader] of course. He could access several cameras from different angles as he attempted to track them down. 
‘ Where are they? Their class ends around this time and they usually stay a bit longer in the classroom to wait for the freshman and Grim. They’re taking too long. . .shit! Did I miss them? Did they already leave?’ 
Idia frantically typed away at his computer to try to locate them. After a couple of tries, he found [Reader] and Grim, with the freshman of course, walking out of their classroom. Sighing in relief, he continued to observe as normal. Unfortunately, these cameras were limited as they had no audio but it would do for now. 
‘ So they DID stay longer in the classroom. Phew, good thing nothing has changed so far.’ 
The screens were the only source of light in his room as his lights were turned off. He didn’t have any club activities today so he there was no need to leave his room. He sat on his desk chair while holding his knees to his chest. Raising his thumb to his mouth, he bit down on the tip of his nail. How did it come to this? 
~
“We’re going to be late! Crap, where is the housewarden?”
“Doesn’t he have his club? Do you think we can leave it with Ortho?” 
“Uh maybe. . .man why did Professor Trein dump this on us? If only Idia attended in-person classes, but oh well. Oh, wait-[Reader]!” 
[Reader] was walking through the hallways, but turned when they heard their name was called out. There were two students, from the Ignihyde dorm looking stressed. 
“Yes?” 
“Sorry for this, but could you do us a huge favor? Professor Trein asked if we could drop these papers with Houseward Idia, but we can’t find him! Not to mention, we’re already late for our club activities enough as it is! We’ll make it up to you, promise!” 
“Hm, sure I don’t see why not. Not like I have anything better to do, give them here.” 
Sighing in relief, the students wasted no time in handing the documents over to [Reader]. 
“Gosh, you’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much, both Grim and your meal are on us!” 
The students turned and ran off to their club. Leaving [Reader] alone. 
“Grim would appreciate that, it sure saves me money for one day knowing his appetite. Anyways, just where is Idia?”  
[Reader] debated going over to the hall of mirrors and just entering the Ignihyde dorm but they decided against it. It would be too much work if Idia were still on the main campus grounds and they were in their dorm. Was Idia even in a club? If he was, it would be worth it to check some classrooms in case he was. Thinking back on it, it wouldn’t seem likely but it didn’t hurt to check. [Reader] had been walking for about 20 minutes, popping inside classrooms just to survey the area. To no avail, Idia was not in the classroom. 
“Just where could he be? Maybe I should head over to his dorm. Oh, hey Azul!” 
Azul was walking on the opposite side and [Reader] ran up to meet him. 
“Ah, [Reader]. What a coincidence, I would have figured you had returned to your dorm by now.” 
“Normally I would have, but I’m helping some classmates drop off some documents. Hey, this may be a stretch but by any chance, do you know where Idia might be?” 
“ Idia? Oh why, yes I do. He’s still in the classroom. We just finished up our game board club meeting. He lost to me so he’s staying back to finish cleaning up. Why?” 
“He’s the one I’m dropping the documents off to. So, where is the club room?” 
“ Down the hall, turn right and it’s the second door on your left.” 
“ Thank you, Azul! I’ll see you around, kay?” 
“Of course. If you however require my services sooner, you know where to find me.” 
“Nice try, but at the moment I’m not interested in making a deal right now.  Maybe later if I forget to study for an exam.” 
“But of course, take care.” 
Azul left back to his dorm, leaving [Reader] to seek out his directions to the club room. When they arrived, they opened the door to see Idia sitting at the desk on his phone. 
“Oh hey, Idia-” 
Idia jumped in his desk, whipping his head around to stare at [Reader] in a frazzled state. 
“W-what a-are you doing h-here!?” 
“Calm down Idia, not here to hurt you. Anyways, someone asked me to drop off these papers to you. One of your housemates. Anyways, what are you doing?” 
“You c-can leave them on the t-table.” 
Idia’s eyes avoided [Reader’s] and he ignored their question. [Reader] walked closer, leaving the documents on the table as asked. They turned to look at his screen, looking at all the graphics displayed on the screen. 
“That looks interesting, what’s this about?” 
“It’s a game. . .” 
“Right, I can see that. What is it about?” 
Idia continued to advert his gaze, muttering under his breath under the assumption that [Reader] could not hear him. 
“Like you would care. . .” 
“I would actually.” 
A snarky and slightly offended response left [Readers] unamused face. Idia let out a squeak, he didn’t think [Reader] would hear that. [Reader] let out a huff, pulling a chair out and sitting across from Idia. 
“Idia, you know I’m not from here right? I don’t know much about media and franchises here in Twisted Wonderland, but I was interested in content like this back in my world. So humor me, what is this game about?” 
Though he was still unable to look them in the eye, not that [Reader] minded, he continued to explain the game franchise. 
“It’s an adventure-based role-playing game following an adventure party on a mission to take down the demon king. The party consists of characters that you get to pick, unlike most games where you’re given a party member. This game is different because it relies on your choices to advance as well as you making your combat type distinct. It has an online server where you can complete side quests while the main story updates.” 
He spoke fast, never sparing a glance at [Reader]. He was just waiting for them to become uninterested or to look at him in annoyance. He was waiting for the insults and the questionable glances of ‘you’re weird’ and ‘fucking loser’. 
“Hm, so it’s a fantasy-based combat game. Does this mean that all the party members are different fantasy races? I’d like to see the party members that you can pick, or do you get to customize them as well?” 
“ O-oh u-uh. . .” 
Idia has always seen the negative side of everything, but being realistic he didn’t give you enough credit. Sure, most people stop listening after that initial description but a few brave soldiers still stick around until he continues. He’d surely lose your interest with his extensive knowledge of the game's lore. 
“Well, not exactly. You can make your character, but the other party members are already designed and have a story to go with them. All you do is equip weapons and artifacts to strengthen them.” 
“Oh, I love customizable characters. Can I see yours?” 
Alright, so you’re one of those few brave soldiers who may be interested in a nerdy ramble. Idia began to click and swipe at his screen, eventually passing it to [Reader]. [Reader] began to inspect the character, looking at all the features that Idia placed on them. 
“Woah, they look badass. I like your character’s style, but it looks like they aren’t human-like. Are they fantasy-based characters? What kind?” 
Idia couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but his face softened and went from stoic to a more relaxed one. His eyes began to shine with passion as he began to talk about his character, gaining [Reader’s] undivided attention. [Reader] nodded and paid attention when he spoke, asking questions about the game’s lore and characters. Idia answered all their questions with a more enthusiastic chirp, throwing some jokes here and there. The atmosphere changed from tense to a more comforting one as they continued to speak losing track of time. 
“. . .but you don’t meet this fantasy race until act III in the game, even then they’re an antagonistic species until you clear the next three acts, that’s when it clears up. Eventually, you can add this character to your party or can update the way your character looks after-” 
The sound of the classroom door opening snapped Idia from his daze, and he turned to look at the door. 
“Idia, here you are!” 
“Ortho. . what are you doing here?” 
“Idia, it’s been three hours since you were supposed to be back. I came to see where you were. Don’t you remember, the new update for the game was dropping later tonight?” 
“Three hours. . .?” 
[Reader] and Idia panicked, both scrambling up from their chairs, 
“ Oh my gosh, I had no idea time went by so fast. I need to get home and do my homework!” 
“I forgot about my game! S-sorry, I probably bugged you with my spiel-” 
“Not at all, Idia! Honestly, this game sounds cool I might check it out. Well, I wish I could considering I don’t have a platform to play it. Crowley is very stingy with what he gives out. I don’t even have a phone to use, or else I would have asked for your contact info. I’ll catch you later, hopefully maybe one of these days I can see you in class. Take care, Ortho!” 
[Reader] patted Ortho’s shoulder before leaving the classroom. Ortho nodded enthusiastically, wishing [Reader] the same. He turned around to where Idia was standing. Idia was quiet, his eyes wide, and on his face was a dopey grin. His cheeks were lightly flushed, adding color to his pale skin. 
“ Iida? What’s wrong?” 
“Ortho, I’m going to class tomorrow.” 
~~ 
It had been roughly two months since that encounter. Idia never expected it to get this bad. They kept their promise, and [Reader] continued to talk to him even if it was after class and in private. He knows they didn’t mean anything bad by it, but he loved the idea of being their little secret. Held occasional yet school-related conversations in public, but the moment the class ended [Reader] and he would talk for hours. Sometimes, they would come over to the Ignihyde dorm to play games with him or indulge in certain content and media. Ortho was very excited, not only was he able to see his brother form a friendship with someone so close instead of online, but he could also see his brother having a slightly more positive outlook on life. However, he remained haunted by the grim reminder that he would be head of the S.T.Y.X organization and wouldn’t be able to enjoy the luxuries he was experiencing now. Despite all that, he was smiling a lot softer and looking forward to the next meeting. So in other words, everything was content and alright. There was no need for him to hijack the cameras to stalk [Reader], but he did it anyway. 
“Well, no matter. What’s done is done. Now I need to make sure they get home safely.” 
Idia softly smiled at the cameras, looking at [Reader] talking to Grim. They had a smile on their face as well, no doubt teasing the poor kitty. 
‘ They’re so pretty. . .hopefully they like my surprise.’ 
[Reader] was walking with the freshman to the Ramshackle dorm. They were going to drop off some stuff before heading out to the hall of mirrors. As they arrived at the entrance, they were greeted by a ghost. 
“Good afternoon, [Reader] and Grim! How were your classes?” 
“ Afternoon! Nothing too busy, but we just got assigned a major project.” 
“Man talk about annoying, Riddle kept reminding us how important this project was for the freshman.” 
Ace complained with Deuce sharing a similar face of dismay, clearly stressed about the project itself. 
“Vil was the same, he said that I could not afford to get a low score and tarnish Pomefiore’s reputation. This must be a pretty serious project.” 
Jack rubbed the back of his head, “Leona hasn’t mentioned anything yet. If all your housewardens are saying something no doubt when I get back to Savannaclaw he might mention it.” 
“If the project must be this serious, then I cannot score anything but the highest marks! The pride of Diasomnia, no. . .the pride of Malleus-Sama rests on my shoulders!” 
“Cool, anyways. . .” 
The rest of the group disregarded what Sebek was spouting about. The ghost chuckled, before leaving to the living room and returning with a package in hand. 
“Someone came by to drop this off. We don’t know what it is or from whom. There was no name on the package.” 
“Oh, for us?” 
“Seems like it.” 
Curiosity spread among them as they were all devising in their heads what it could be. 
“You don’t think it’s a. . .no it couldn’t be!” 
“But it might be. . .” 
“It might be a what?” 
Grim turned to Ace and Epel who shared mischievous smiles, “Oh you know. . .” 
“Pay them no mind, Grim. They’re just trying to scare you.” 
Deuce waved the two off and reassured Grim that it was all right. [Reader] examined the box, shaking it a little. It felt heavy, but there was no sound with the shake. It might either take up the whole box or it might be very secure. They walked inside their dorm with the others following suit. They sat on the couch and proceeded to open the package. Ripping open the box, they turned to see that it was a new phone. 
“A phone. . .?” 
“ WOAH! NOT JUST A NEW PHONE, IT’S THE LATEST MODEL!” 
Everyone exclaimed, eyes wide as saucers. 
“It is. . .?” 
“Hm, you don’t suppose Crowley got it for us do you?” 
Grim turned to look at [Reader] who scoffed at the idea, 
“Hell no, since when has that man cared for us?” 
“Fair enough, but who do you think it was from?” 
“ Not sure. .  .” 
“ Well whoever it was, they must be loaded!” 
Ace pointed out, [Reader] looking up at him. 
“Surely it can’t be that much...  could it?” 
“It’s over 200,000 Thaumarks!” 
“THAT MUCH!?” 
Grim and [Reader] turned to each other in shock. There was no way Crowley would cough up that much money for them, surely this was a mistake. 
“ Do you think they maybe got the wrong address?” 
“Nope! The postman that delivered it said the package was addressed to a [Reader].” 
“So who could be this generous patronage?” 
“Who knows, but whoever it is. You better take care of that as your life depended on it!” 
“ Got it, maybe I can ask Idia how to set it up. Surely it can’t be too different than the models back in my world, but if it is that much I can’t risk it. Alright, let us go now.” 
“ Do you guys want to go to Monstro Lounge to eat and talk about the project?” 
Sharing nods, everyone set off to Monstro Lounge. Idia was observing through the cameras, looking to see everyone entering the Octavinelle dorm. The moment he saw [Reader] enter, he stood up and made plans to leave his dorm. He closed off all the cameras and locked his room to be safe. He turned to the door, preparing to enact his plan. He left the Ignihyde dorm, turning to the path to the Ramshackle dorm. He walked at a brisk pace. It was the perfect time, no one was near or around to see him. Upon arriving at the dorm, he turned to peek inside the windows. Luckily, the ghosts that were occupying the house didn’t seem to be near. He pulled out a key and swiftly unlocked the door. He remembered one time when he swiped their keys and made a copy of them. Casually returning them to [Reader]. He climbed up the stairs and entered their room. Looking around, he could see a very plain room. Nothing too out of the ordinary but he didn’t mind, he knew that [Reader] was hardly getting any funds from Crowley. That was why he gave them the phone, something to be able to reach them faster. Though the room was plain, there was something that did manage to catch his eye. [Reader’s] used clothing hamper. His breath hitched, slowly and carefully making his way to it. Fear that the slight movement could alert someone, even though he was alone(or was he?). Once he made it across, he peered inside. Just normal clothing, sleeping garments, and so forth. The one thing that did make him turn red, was the sight of [Reader’s] used undergarments. 
His throat was dry as he debated reaching in and taking. What would they think of him? Would [Reader] look at him in disgust? Here he was, a pervert thinking about taking the used underwear of the one he loved. Who knows what he was going to do with them? Idia shook his head, reaching in swiftly and swiping the used underwear. He shakily raised them to his face, placing the crotch area close to his nose. He inhaled deeply, [Reader’s] scent quickly invading his mind. His pants began to feel tight and his dick was hard. He was lost in a trance until he heard a voice come from the living room. 
“I wonder who could have gifted the phone to [Reader]. Do you think they have a secret admirer?” 
Idia’s eyes widened as his body temperature rose. He was horrified, beyond terrified. Tears began to well, he was going to be caught! Idia quietly scrambled to the hallway but skillfully remained undetected as he peered over the stair railway. All the ghosts were in the living room, but they weren’t near the front door. If he played his cards right, he could make it out of the dorm without bringing too much attention to himself. Idia began to walk down the stairs, luckily the ghosts were too into their conversation to hear the creaky stairs. Idia shoved the used garment into the pocket of his jacket. 
“ If they had a secret admirer, do you think it might be that fae boy who sometimes comes here at night?” 
‘The WHAT!?’ Idia internally screamed. Fae. . did he mean Sebek? Sebek knows better than to appear at night, so was it the devilish third-year Lilia Vanrogue? Sure he was an eccentric one, but even he would have morals. Idia was close to the front of the door.  Idia was so into his thoughts, that he failed to notice the ghost that was standing near the gate. The ghost turned around, with a surprised look asked, 
“Are you here for [Reader]?” 
Idia let out a squeak, holding both his arms in a defensive stance. The ghost noticed this and quickly assured him that he did not mean any harm or to spook him. 
“Didn’t mean to scare you, but [Reader] isn’t here right now. They’re at the Monstro Lounge working on a project with some peers.” 
“O-oh. . .I see. . .” 
Idia knew they weren’t here, but couldn’t raise any suspicion. The other ghosts soon came to the front door, staring at Idia. 
“Oh, what’s this? Are you a friend of [Reader]?” 
“I-I u-uh. . .d-did [Reader] get the package?” 
“ The package? Oh! Are you their secret admirer?” 
Way to go Iida, he was digging a deeper hole for himself. 
“A-a friend of mine a-asked me to make sure they got it. . .” 
His gaze was adverted to the side and his fingers were twiddling. 
“They did it! By any chance, can we know the name of your friend? Tell us, do they like [Reader]?” 
“ Y-yeah s-something like that. T-they’re a little shy so. . .well then, that’s good. U-uh, I’m going to leave n-now. . .” 
“ Take care, be safe walking back to your dorm!” 
The ghosts all wished him safe travels. Idia nodded and began to walk slowly, once he was away from the ghost’s sight of vision he scrambled back to his dorm. 
“You don’t think he was. . .?” 
“Maybe, but wait. . . isn’t he the one [Reader] likes?” 
~
Idia managed to make it to his dorm without being spotted. He entered his room and locked the door. Once he caught his breath, he made it to his bed and plopped down. He was tired, hopefully, the ghosts didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes and remained still for a brief moment before he turned, feeling the fabric of his pants rub against his hard-on. 
‘Oh’
His cheeks reddened and his hair changed from a blue to a purple shade, close to pink. He reached into his pocket, taking out the used underwear. His other hand went to his pants, slowly freeing his hard cock. His breath hitched, he placed the used underwear up against his nose and inhaled deeply. His eyes rolled back at [Reader’s] scent and his free hand went to his dick, wrapping around it. Pre was already forming at the tip, he rubbed his cock up and down slowly, starting a soft pace. 
“Fuck. . .” 
His lidded and glossy eyes stared on, he slowly opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He gave a long striped lick, tasting whatever remained on the underwear. Whatever little control he had broke, he began to gradually fist his cock as he inhaled and exhaled. He was constantly giving licks as well, his body was moving on his own. He rolled over and entangled his legs with his bedsheets. He let the underwear fall on the pillow and dove nose-first into it. With his right hand, he began to grip the sheets. He rutted into his fist. His mind wandered to [Reader], how would they feel. If they saw him right now, what would they say? Would they call him a disgusting pervert? How dare he get off on your used underwear. How pathetic he is, rutting into his hand thrusting into his bed trying to find the right pace and friction to get off. Fucking pathetic, look at this loser jerking off to the idea of even being able to touch you. 
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-oh fuck-!” 
He imagined if [Reader] was into it as well. Would they step on his disgusting dick? Would they tease him, call him all kinds of names? Would they make him fuck himself before he even had the chance to fuck them? Idia was thankful for his pillow, other than being able to rest the used underwear so that he could smell and taste as much as he wanted. He was also able to hide his pathetic moans and whines. He was drooling, eyes rolling back and tears welling up. 
“Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna-shit I’m gonna come-” 
How their warm insides would feel. How their hole would clamp and clench around his dirty and pathetic cock. Imagine how it would feel to relentlessly fuck them. 
“W-wanna touch them, w-wanna fuck y-you, [R-reader]!? W-wanna c-come i-inside you-ha fuck!?” 
Would they let them come inside? How it would feel, leaving his warm thick sticky cum inside them. When he’d pull out he’d see the thick glob that left their used and abused hole that was stretched out just for him. 
“C-Cumming!??” 
Idia’s eyes rolled back as his back arched, his right hand gripping the sheets and his knuckles turning white, blowing his load into his hands. His cum shoots out to stain his bedsheets. His cum was warmer than average, how would they feel? Would they feel warm and satisfied? Sweat was coating his skin and he struggled to catch his breath. His left hand released his now limp dick and his right let go of the bedsheets. He lifted his body, getting on his knees and he looked at the pillow and [Reader]’s now soiled underwear. 
“I l-love you so much. . .[Reader].” 
[Reader] kept true to their word and turned to Idia for help setting up their phone. 
“Oh, okay so I do this right?” 
“You’re no better than a noob finally learning how to use a handheld console.” 
[Reader] sent Idia an unamused look, but let out a laugh. Idia smiled, but changed his face the moment [Reader] turned to look up again at him. 
“It’s standard, it’s similar to most models back in my world though some features are completely new. Hey Idia, can I ask you a question? Is this really the latest model and  worth 200,000 thurmarks?” 
“It’s the latest model and now it’s super rare. Those who preordered one when the sale dropped months ago were 100% guaranteed one with a small percentage that they would be sold in stores. They only released a few in-store ones so if you didn’t get one then, it’ll be months before you get one.” 
“Woah, so it’s that special? Ace was telling me all the new stuff it was supposed to have but I just nodded and went with it.” 
“Here.” 
Idia handed [Reader] their new phone back, stuck on the contact screen. The contact read his name, ‘Idia Shroud’, with his phone number saved on it. 
“So now you can reach me. M-maybe play the game now. . .”
“Thank you Idia, I was going to ask you about that too by the way. Do you mind if I lie on your bed?” 
“Hm, no I don’t-WAIT YES I DO!” 
Idia’s scream rang through his room. [Reader]’s eyes widened as they backed away from his bed. 
“S-sorry, my bed is. . .messy.” 
“Oh, I really don’t mind but if you do that’s fine. I can just sit here unless you don’t want me to?” 
“N-no no, there is fine.” 
Idia calmed down, scooting over to [Reader] to explain how to download the game and how to set it up. 
It was like that, consistently for another two months. Idia wasn’t sure what to do, he had planned on confessing but how. Every time he thought it was the right time, someone just had to take [Reader’s] attention or ruin it for him. They could never understand them the way he did. After months of observing [Reader], playing games with them, and sharing deep meaningful conversations, Idia was the only one who could understand them. That’s what he believed, so why was it so hard to be able to confess them? No one was able to understand them to the capacity that Idia could and certainly, no one was worthy of them. Granted Idia himself didn’t feel worthy, but if he was the worm crawling underneath their shoe the other’s were the smears on the concrete. Idia huffed in annoyance, he was typing along to his online friend, Muscle Red. 
Gloomurai: Can I vent to you about something happening IRL
Muscle Red: Of course, what’s wrong? 
Gloomurai: How do you confess to someone you like? 
Muscle Red: Oh, relationship issues? 
Lilia scratched his head, geez. This was an awkward situation, it’s been a while since Lilia courted someone. He wasn’t sure how to proceed with the conversation but he was young once so it couldn’t be too hard.
Gloomurai: Not really considering there is no relationship yet, it’s more like I like someone but can’t bring myself to confess to them. 
Gloomurai: When I want to, something always happens like the universe doesn’t want us to be together. 
Muscle Red: I don’t think that's the case. I think you may need to set up a scenario where you are completely alone to confess, so you don’t have any interruptions.
Lilia winced a little when he read that back, it didn’t sound okay at first. Hopefully, Gloomurai doesn’t look too into it. 
Gloomurai: It’s a little hard, they’re quite social. Almost everyone wants to talk to them. 
Muscle Red: I’m sure if you asked to speak to them about a personal matter, they might set time aside to hear you out. Maybe that is when you confess? 
Gloomurai: I’d probably stutter over my words to get it out, they’re just too cool. . .
Muscle Red: How did you meet them? Is this a close friend or? 
Gloomurai: You could say that. They like the same stuff I like, we became friends with mutual interests. 
Lilia let out a breath of relief. Unlike back then where you either knew the person from growing up together or being interested in them because of one interaction, common interests bonded people. So this should be easy. 
Muscle Red: Hm, so then they probably know you and will feel more comfortable being near a familiar face. When trying to court someone you may want to start with a small gesture of kindness and trying to find time alone to be able to confess to them. That was how most of the time it worked then, but since this is a close friend they might already be able to pick up signs. [MESSAGE UNABLE TO SEND. TRY AGAIN.] 
Muscle Red: You may have to be bold. Do something that they might never expect from you. Try to get them to see you in a different light than just a friend. If you’re able to do that then surely you can win them over, who knows maybe they’ll fall for you just as much. 
Muscle Red: Do something that still falls within their comfort level to show that you still care and know certain things about them. I think once you’re able to show them how you care for them but also make them see you, I think that helps a lot. They already like spending time with you and enjoy common interests, so really, it shouldn’t be too hard. [MESSAFE UNABLE TO SEND. TRY AGAIN.] 
Gloomurai: So try something bold, something that makes them notice my feelings for them? 
Muscle Red: Exactly. 
Gloomurai: Hm, thank you. I think I know what I should do. Thank you for this, really :)). Thank you for helping me defeat the boss too lol. C U!
Muscle Red: see you! 
Gloomurai left the chat. 
Muscle Red left the chat. 
Lilia looked to the bottom right screen on his PC, looking at the symbol representing the internet. 
“My, of all times it seems that the internet went out. Hopefully, they were able to read my messages and understand what I was trying to say. Oh well, they seemed to understand so hopefully it helps. Ah, young love certainly never fails to move my heart. Now, onto the internet.” 
And so, that is where we find ourselves now. Idia was pacing around his room, biting his nails and muttering to himself. 
‘Shitshitshitshitshitshit, what do I do? What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?’ 
[Reader] was sleeping soundly, snuggling into the bed. Clearly, this wasn’t their room and if they were to wake up, surely they would panic. The last thing [Reader] remembered was resting peacefully in their bed with Grim cuddling next to them. 
“I did use a pretty strong spell, hopefully, they wake up soon. . .” 
Idia peered over to see [Reader] they were still unmoving. He nervously made his way to them, getting on his bed and slowly crawling to them. The bed sank with his added weight, but nonetheless, they did not waver. He eyed their body, their features. Their chest was slowly rising with their steady breathing. Idia swallowed hard, his fearful expression didn’t leave his face either while he shakily extended his hand to touch [Reader]. His hand grazed their skin and his cold fingers met their warm skin. Tracing his finger from this shoulder to their forearm, touching their forehead and caressing their cheeks. He stopped breathing, afraid that it would ruin this soft moment for him. His eyes trailed down, to their chest. He removed his fingers from their cheeks and instead began to trail from their collarbone to their chest. With deep breaths and a flushed face, he started going lower. From their chest to their stomach, to their hips, and eventually, their crotch. 
“You’re so pretty. . .wanna see you more. . .” 
Idia lightly rubbed at their crotch, lazily stroking up and down. He didn’t intend to do anything and he certainly didn’t expect to hit any major pleasure zones. Idia continued to touch, not really doing much. He wondered if they were awake, what would they do if they saw him like this? Surely they would scream, be disgusted, and threaten to hurt him. 
‘Be bold’ 
Idia nervously looked over to [Reader]with their eyes still shut. He looked over at their legs, placing his hands in the middle and prying them open. His head peeked up again, no movement. He got on his knees at the foot of his bed, dragging [Reader’s] legs down too. Idia placed his hand on their bottoms, dragging them agonizingly slow. He managed to take them off without stirring them and he left them in just their undergarments. Idia began to drool at the sight but he knew the surprise was waiting underneath the undergarments. Reaching above, he pulled them down swiftly and looked. [Reader’s] sex was exposed and visibly aroused. His cold fingers went to touch their most sensitive bit, lightly tapping it. Trailing their finger up and down, they noticed their hole clenching around nothing. 
“What I would give for you to think of me touching you in your dreams.” 
Idia shakily moved his face to their sex, giving it an experimental lick. Trailing to their hole, licking around the area. He removed himself and began to such on his fingers, once they were coated with his saliva he moved them to their hole. Inserting his middle finger inside. Idia let out a soft squeal when he felt their hole clench around his finger. 
“F-Fuck. . .y-you’re so tight. . .” 
Inserting his finger in and out, creating a soft pace and causing enough lubrication to insert another finger. Idia let out a small chuckle, 
“It’s like you’re greedy hole is devouring me. . .I wonder what you’re dreaming about, [Reader].” 
As Idia continued fingering [Reader], they turned to their sensitive bits and began to lick up and down, pressing light kisses on them. He continued to do this for a bit, lightly teasing them and pumping his fingers inside them. He began to suck and that’s when he noticed it, their body twitched. Thinking it was from pleasure, he continued to tease and explore their body. Their sensitive bits were being toyed with, sucked, licked, pinched, and stroked while he fucked his fingers into them. He didn’t notice the noises they were making as they were stirring, but his heart dropped when he felt his hands wander into his hair. 
“[REA-]!?” 
“D-don’t stop. . .p-please Idia. .m’feels good.” 
He had to be dreaming! There was no way this could be real, but he didn't care. If it was a dream, then what a lovely dream it was. He nodded and returned to abuse their sex. 
“F-fuck, right there-!” 
Idia was overheating, he was eating them out with such intensity. Drool covers their sex and mixes with their juices. His fingers continued their assault, stretching them out in a scissoring motion while also reaching even areas they couldn’t with their fingers. 
“M’ feels g-good, f-fuck g-gonna cum Idia-!” 
[Reader] was coming undone, the feeling of Idia’s long tongue playing with their sex, sucking and kissing along with his fingers was a pleasure overload. When Idia’s fingers reached that soft and spongey spot inside them, curling his fingers to hit, they came. Grabbing his hair and pushing his face against their sex and bucking their hips, riding out their orgasm as they came on his face. 
“C-Coming!” 
Once they came down from their high, they released his hair. [Reader] raised their forearm to cover their eyes as they worked to catch their breath. Idia got up from the floor and got on the bed, crawling to them. 
“[R-reader]. . .I-I-I-?!” 
[Reader] removed their forearm, looking at him with glossy eyes. Idia could only gaze upon them with such love. Their body was covered in sweat, their skin was warm to the touch and their post-orgasmic face was divine. [Reader] propped themselves on their elbows, struggling to sit up on the bed. When they managed to, they turned to look at him with a dazed-out expression. 
“Idia. . .wanna make you feel good too. . .can I?” 
[Reader] asked in a slightly whiny voice that made Idia’s rock-hard cock strain against his bottoms. His breath hitched, 
“E-EH? I-I N-NO Y-YOU DON’T M-MEA-EEP!” 
Idia shrieked when [Reader] pushed him down on his bed, straddling his hips and rubbing their exposed sex on his clothed crotch. [Reader] raised their arms to remove their shirt, turning to remove his bottoms. [Reader] was able to pull down his bottoms and remove his boxer, exposing his dick. Idia’s hair turned into a pinkish hue with the rest of his skin burning up. He was embarrassed that his crush who he went down on, got to see him in a similar position. [Reader’s] hands were warm to the touch and they began stroking and rubbing his cock, jerking him off. Idia threw his head back, moaning uncontrollably and gasping as he felt their fingers play with his tip, rubbing it back and forth. Their free hand began to fondle his balls, creating a feeling of immense pleasure. Tears began to form and Idia looked at [Reader] with a face that was begging for mercy but at the same time, more. 
“O-Of fuck! F-feels so fucking good! H-having my disgusting cock t-touched by you, [Reader]! F-fuck me, please I want it s-so badly!” 
Before Idia could come, [Reader] let go of their dick. They went to their sex, rubbing their hole and inserting their finger, making sure they were stretched well. They leveled themselves to Idia’s cock and began to lower themselves down. Idia closed his eyes at the feeling of their hole clenching down hard on his dick. [Reader] was struggling themselves too, Idia managed to stretch them out pretty well. After a while, [Reader] began to move, slowly creating a slow pace while riding Idia, Their hands went underneath his shirt and to his nipples, playing with them. Their fingers caught them and began to pinch them. 
“Fuck! H-ha…f-fuck, so tight!” 
“Y-you’re so big, Idia. Feels so f-fucking good!” 
Rolling their hips to meet Idia’s small thrusts to reach that deeper part within their insides. Idia’s hands went to grab and hold their hips, keeping them steady. Idia’s left hand went to touch their sex, rubbing and stroking to make them catch their high. Both their bodies were covered in sweat and their moans echoed throughout the room. [Reader’s] movements were getting sloppy, the feeling of their climax was right around the edge. Idia could feel it too, he wasn’t going to last long but he wanted to. He didn't;’t want this moment to end. 
“I-Idia, hm feel’s so good, feel so full! W-wanna c=come. .-ha!” 
“F-Fuck [Reader]! C-Come, please c-come!” 
Relief was granted when Idia thrust one last time, spilling his seed inside them. [Reader] threw their head back and ended up cumming all over Iida. The room smelled of sweat and sex. Idia and [Reader] were both trying to catch their breath, until Idia began to thrust again. 
“W-wait I-idia! I can’t, it’s t-too much! S-still sensitive-!!” 
[Reader] placed their hands on his stomach, steadying themselves and that’s when they saw it. Idia’s glossy eyes, tears staining his face but his face was red. He looked like he was ready to cry again from the overstimulation. 
“P-please, w-want more of you. W-want to feel you-!” 
Idia began to relentlessly thrust upwards, hitting their deepest spots and continuing to play with their sex. It continued for a while until Idia had his fill, pushing [Reader] until they were no longer able to form coherent words just mindless babbles of their pleasure spilling out. Idia finally finished and managed to release inside them. He let [Reader] lie on the bed to rest, but never pulled out of them. They stayed connected even when Idia was no longer hard. [Reader] looked over at Idia who was avoiding their gaze. [Reader] smiled, breathing out before speaking, 
“I love you, Idia.” 
“H-HUH!? N-no, surely you’re just pulling my leg-” 
“Idia, we just fucked. I’m not pulling anything, you think I don’t know that you were stalking me?” 
Idia let out a whine, diving headfirst into their chest to hide his embarrassment. Wrapping his arms around their waist, pulling him closer to them. 
“I know you’ve been stalking me around. I also know you were the one who got me the phone, the ghosts told me you stopped by my house.” 
Idia peeled himself away enough to look up at [Reader] who looked at him with adoring eyes. 
“ You probably hate me, you must think I’m disgusting aren’t I.” 
“I don’t hate you, but I do think you’re pretty disgusting. I don't mind, I like how disgusting you are about me.” 
Idia gazed into their eyes before shying away, continuing to shove his face in their chest. His pink hair was a dead giveaway that he was completely enamored and not okay with that response. 
“ Oh, and I also know you jerked off to my used underwear.” 
A sob left Idia’s lip. 
Bonus: 
Muscle Red: Hello, it's been a while. So, how did it go with the one you wanted to confess to?” 
Gloomurai: Hello. It went well, I went bold as you said. I kidnapped them and I guess they were into that lol. Thank you for your advice. Now, do you want to do that quest? 
Gloomurai: Muscle Red? [MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT. USER MUSCLE RED IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE] 
Gloomurai: Muscle Red? :(( [MESSAGE COULD NOT BE SENT. USER MUSCLE RED IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE] 
A/N: I have no words because I lowkey hate the writing because I split it up into several days of work so it’s not only consistent but I think I cannot write smut to save my life as well I used to and well yeah. Happy birthday IRL bestie. 
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Sweeter Than Revenge Part 1
Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: When you try to surprise your brother with a visit in the hopes of mending your strained relationship, it does not go as planned. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you decide to get a little revenge. And who better to do it with than the head Tornado Wrangler himself... Word Count: 3509 TW: Family Conflict, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes/Breasts, Unsucessful Flirting, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages
Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)
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Grabbing your backpack off the seat beside you, you stood and joined the crowd of passengers making their way to the front of the bus. You stopped to let an elderly couple join the line in front of you and used the momentary pause to glance out the window at your destination. A small diner in need of a fresh coat of paint and a good window washing sat off to the left while several rows of gas pumps were lined up on the right. Trucks, vans, campers, and SUVs filled almost every parking spot and spilled into the grassy field around the lot. Some vehicles were ancient, rusted machines that barely looked driveable while others were so fresh and high-tech they could have just been driven off a lot. Those were the vehicles you were looking for.
Stepping off the bus, you headed towards the group of four shiny new vehicles on the other end of the parking lot. On the way, your head was on a constant swivel as you took in everything around you: a middle-aged couple arguing loudly about who forgot to tie down the lawn chairs the last time they stopped, a somewhat familiar-looking man in a cowboy hat unloading a piece of equipment from his huge red truck while another long-haired man filmed him, a woman with dreadlocks fiddling with a remote control only for a large drone to drop out of the sky a moment later and land at her feet, a few children racing towards the diner with their exasperated mother trailing behind yelling at them to watch where they were going. 
It was utter chaos and you loved it already. 
As you approached the vehicles, you saw the Storm PAR logos printed on the sides and breathed a sigh of relief that after this sixth bus stop, you had finally tracked them down. You still didn’t see who you were looking for, so you walked up to a man with dark curly hair wearing a white button-down Storm PAR shirt who was currently crouched down examining a weird solar panel-looking piece of equipment set up next to one of the vans. As you cleared your throat, he looked up from the machine and blinked, as if he was shocked to see someone standing there despite the crowds of people around him. Glancing around, he asked, “Um…can I help you?”
You guess you shouldn’t be too surprised by his reaction. In your cut-off shorts, boots, and halter top, you looked like you should be hanging out one of the trucks you passed when you first got off the bus, not the polished, company polo shirt-wearing tech heads milling around the Storm PAR vehicles. And you didn’t even want to know what your hair and makeup looked like after four hours on that poorly air-conditioned packed bus. 
So, instead of taking offense at this guy’s slightly dismissive tone, you smiled as you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder. “Hi. I’m looking for Scott.”
The man glanced over his shoulder but made no move to stand up. “He’s here but he’s in the middle of some data calculations. Can I help you with something?”
“Not really. I had time off college and he mentioned you guys were having a really active season so I figured why not come out and see all this in action.” The man was still looking at you like he couldn’t understand why you were talking to him and you suddenly realized you hadn’t explained the most important detail. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I guess I should have mentioned, Scotty’s my older brother.”
Instantly, the man’s demeanor shifted and a huge toothy smile spread across his face. “Oh! You should have led with that. Nice to meet you.”
Rising to his feet, he stuck out his hand and you shook it, officially introducing yourself. When he said his name was Javi Rivera and it was your turn for things to click into place. “Javi! You’re Scotty’s business partner, right? He’s told me about you.”
Javi let your hand drop and his eyes shifted towards his equipment once more. “Really? Well, um, you know, I’ve, uh, heard great things about you too.”
You grinned, grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “Scotty never even mentioned he had a sister, did he?” Javi gave a slight shrug, still not looking directly at you and you laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Never wants to get personal, everything’s about business with him. To be honest, I don’t see or hear from him that much which is just another reason I figured I’d come surprise him when I had the chance. Plus, I read some research Scotty left lying around last time he came home and it was really interesting. I’m excited to be able to see what you guys do firsthand.” 
“Well, I’m sure Scotty will be glad to see you. Let me go grab him.”
Javi turned and disappeared into one of the vans. A moment later, he returned with your brother following closely behind. “Javi, I was in the middle of some important calculations. Why did I have to–” Scott stumbled to a stop as he saw you standing there.
Since he was a teenager, Scott had mastered the art of keeping his emotions hidden. He could be fuming mad, joyously happy, or heartbrokenly sad, and in each case keep the same perfect mask on his face. However, you knew his one tell. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his eyes. And right now, you could practically see flames burning within them. 
For the first time, you wondered if coming to see him had been such a good idea. Shifting from one foot to the other, you tried to force a smile as you half-heartedly held out your arms. “Surprise.”
Scott remained rooted to the spot, his only movement the constant forceful chewing of his gum. Javi glanced back and forth between the two of you, the smile slowly draining from his face. Hesitantly, he explained, “She said she was your sister so I figured…”
A cultivated smile spread across Scott’s lips but it didn’t reach his eyes as they continued to burn into yours. “No, it’s all good. I’m just surprised to see her.” Without breaking eye contact, he held his tablet out to Javi who took it from him. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her and then I’ll get back to those numbers.”
Javi started to protest, assuring him there was no rush and he could take his time, but Scott had already closed the distance between you. Grabbing your arm tightly to the point of slight painfulness, he guided you past the rest of the Storm PAR vehicles and into the empty field. 
Once you were far enough away that you knew none of his co-workers could hear you, you wrenched your arm from his grasp, snapping, “Get off of me!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, his mask finally slipping as his nostrils flared and lips curled into a snarl.
“Well, hello to you too!” You examined your arm where he had grabbed you, massaging it gently. “Can’t a girl come visit her big brother?”
“Not when she wasn’t invited or even asked if she could come beforehand! What were you thinking? This isn’t one of your wild party vacations. This is my job!”
“I know that. I wasn’t expecting you to drop everything and take me sightseeing. I just thought I could hang around and watch you guys in action. I’ve read some of the research you left at Christmas and I was hoping maybe I could learn a little more about it.”
Scott shook his head, his hands on his hips. “This is our busiest time of the season. I don’t have time to babysit you.”
“What do you think I am? Eight? I don’t need you to babysit me. I told you, I’m interested in what you do and thought I could just hang around and see how it all works.” You shrugged, “Maybe you could even take me on a chase or two.”
“Hell no. I won’t have you getting scared and causing us to have to turn around in the middle of a storm run. Javi and I have worked too hard to get this company to where it is and I’m not going to let you ruin that because, on a whim, you thought it would be fun to see a storm.” Scott scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “It’s so typical of you to still think that just because you want something or because Mom and Dad will pay for it, everyone else will bend over backward to accommodate you. Well, I don’t have to put up with your bullshit anymore.”
You took several deep breaths and tried to keep your anger in check. This was not at all how you thought this would go, but lashing out right now would only make things worse. So, in a calm, steady voice, you tried to shift approaches. “Scotty, we haven’t spent any real time together since you left for MIT. And back then…I’m not proud of the person I was and I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. But I was a kid who didn’t know any better! I’ve grown up since you left. And this trip isn’t just something I thought would be fun to do ‘on a whim’. I worked hard to save up the money to come here because I wanted to see you and spend time with you—however little time you may be able to work into your schedule. And I promise I won’t get scared or make you stop your chase. If I don’t like it, I’ll suck it up until it’s over then not ask to go again.” Taking a step forward, you gently placed your hand on his arm and gave him a timid smile. “Let me show you who I am now…how much I’ve changed. Please, Scotty.”
But Scott yanked his arm away and took a step back. “I don’t care where you go, but you need to stay away from me and Storm PAR. Now, I have work to do.” He took one last look at you, and, for just a moment, you thought maybe he felt bad for what he said and was reconsidering things. But then, he blew a small bubble with his gum and popped it loudly in your face. You jumped slightly, the sound sharp and startling, before glaring at him. He had been doing that since you were kids and he knew how much you absolutely despised it. Shooting you one last smug smirk, Scott turned and walked off towards the cluster of Storm PAR vehicles. 
You turned to look out into the open field, lip quivering, as you fought against the tears that were burning your eyes. Things between you and Scott had been pretty bad when he left for college, but you hadn’t realized he still really thought so poorly of you. The last few holidays or family events he had been forced to come to, things seemed to be getting a little better. You thought that maybe you had reached a turning point in your relationship. But now it was clear you had been very wrong.
Looking back at the diner and overflow of vehicles, you wondered what you should do now. You had no idea when the next bus came by or how to get a ticket home or if there was a motel nearby you could stay in for the night or how you would even get there if there was or what you would do in the morning or—
UGH! The longer you stared at the Storm PAR logo on the side of the van Scott had disappeared into, the less hurt you felt. Instead, the pain began to shift into outrage. How dare Scott treat you like this? You had spent a lot of money and wasted two weeks of your summer vacation to take this trip to see him. You knew it would involve listening to him drone on about numbers and graphs you could barely comprehend for most of the time, but you were willing to smile, nod, and seem interested to show you cared about what he did. But no! He didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself or prove that you weren’t here to interfere with his work. He had just torn you down before turning his back on you and walking away. That asshole!
The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky and you realized standing here fuming about Scott wasn’t going to help your situation. You could do that once you found a bus schedule or a place to stay for the night. However, as you stormed back through the parking lot, something caught your eye. 
When you had come through the first time and passed the familiar-looking man and the long-haired guy with the camera, you had only seen their truck from behind. But now that you were looking at the front, you noticed the distinctive metal logo attached to the front of the truck’s grille: a tornado with horns jutting out the top of the vortex. And you realized why the man in the cowboy hat looked familiar. 
Scott might not talk to you very often, but during the instances that he had, you had heard plenty of complaints about Tyler Owens and his group of Tornado Wranglers. Everything they did was the complete opposite of how Storm PAR operated and it drove Scott crazy that while he was out there doing the “real work”, this group of amateur YouTube chasers were the ones getting all the attention and acclaim when all they were really doing was getting in Storm PAR’s way. 
And Scott seemed to have another level of hatred for Owens himself.    
Out of curiosity, you had looked up the Wranglers’ YouTube channel and found it pretty entertaining. While Scott viewed every aspect of his work with complete seriousness and professionalism, these guys tackled the same work like they were having the time of their lives. They were still informative, explaining to their viewers how tornadoes formed and the types of destruction they can cause, but they would then drive straight into the center of a funnel or take chat requests of crazy things to do in the storm. It honestly seemed like a great way to get people excited about learning about tornadoes while also keeping them entertained. And it seemed like their nearly 850,000 followers would agree. No wonder Scott hated them so much. 
Suddenly, you had an idea—the perfect little act of revenge.
Changing directions, you made your way over to Owens’s truck. You could see he was now alone, tinkering with the equipment attached to the bed of his truck. He had traded his white cowboy hat for a faded backward cap and had pushed his sleeves up above his elbows as he worked, his sun-bronzed skin on full display in the dying light.
Though you had only watched a handful of the Tornado Wranglers’ videos, you had a pretty good idea of the kind of man Tyler Owens was and how you could persuade him to help you. After all, these narcissistic, jacked-up truck-driving, overcompensating pretty boys were all the same. The kind who had been fawned and swooned over their entire adult lives just because they flashed a charming smile or a playful wink in the right direction. However, with just a little stroking of their ego or a bat of your eyes, they could become putty in your hands. All you had to do was introduce yourself.
Reaching the side of the truck, you tucked your hands into your back pockets so it thrust your chest forward and, biting your lip, called out coyly, “Hey there, cowboy.”
Owens glanced up, a curious smile curling across his lips as he saw you, his eyes traveling from your head to boot and back up. “Well, hello there.”
Giggling softly as you placed your hand on the side railing, you asked in a sing-songy voice, “You’re Tyler, right? The big...bad…tornado wrangler?” With each word, you walked your fingers across the railing, your eyes locked on his.
He leaned back, wiped his hands on his jeans, and said, “I might be. Depends on who’s asking.” He was still looking at you but his smile had slipped slightly and you realized you might not have grabbed his attention as well as you thought.
Placing both hands on the railing now, you pushed yourself up slightly, your chest pressed together, and you looked up at him from under your lashes. “What if I’m asking?”
Owens stared at you for a long moment, his eyes still examining you thoughtfully, though you were shocked to see they stayed locked on your face and didn’t dip down to your breast like you had expected. Then, finally, he said, “You seem like a nice girl, sweetheart, but I don't think I'm what you're looking for. Good luck though.” He gave you a kind, yet dismissive nod, and went back to whatever he had been working on.
Your jaw dropped, lips moving silently as you tried to figure out what just happened. This kind of thing always worked on guys like him in the past. Show a little skin, stroke their egos a little, and they would be wrapped around your finger in no time. But he hadn’t even given your act more than a passing glance. It was possible you weren’t his type or maybe he was in a committed relationship, but neither of those things had exactly deterred guys in the past. 
You turned around—properly dismissed—and were just about to walk away when another thought crossed your mind. What if…what if you had misjudged him? What if he wasn’t the kind of guy you assumed he was? From what you had seen in his videos, he was cocky and overconfident and a huge flirt, but what if that was all for the cameras? During your very brief interaction, he seemed polite and respectful even as you tried to throw yourself at him, something no other guy had ever done in that situation. 
Maybe you had gone about this all wrong. Maybe you needed a different approach. A more honest one…
You hurried around the other side of the truck so you were in front of him once more. Dropping all the over-the-top flirtatiousness from your voice, you said, “Okay, I’m sorry. I thought…it doesn’t matter what I thought, but the point is I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had a really shitty day and approached this situation all wrong.”
Owens didn’t raise his head, but his eyes drifted back in your direction. Feeling like he was offering you a chance, you explained, “Listen, the deal is I came here to surprise my brother with a visit, and as soon as he saw me, he told me he doesn’t want me here and I should fuck off out of his way.”
That got his attention. Looking up, his brow furrowed, Owens asked, “Your brother said that to you?”
You rolled your eyes and hit the heel of your palm against the side of the truck. “Well, not in those exact words but the sentiment was there. The point is, he told me he didn’t care where I went as long as I left him and his team alone. So, I plan on respecting his wishes…and wondered if I could hang out with your team instead.”
“Well–” He leaned back, clearly not interested in your request, but you cut him off before he could turn you down.
“Please! It’ll just be for a day or two. I promise not to get in the way or mess with any of your work. I just know he has a problem with you guys and seeing me with you will drive him insane.” 
Putting down the wrench he was holding, Owens shook his head. “Back up…who are we talking about now? Who’s your brother?”
You realized you needed to get better at introducing people into a conversation before jumping right in. “Scott? He works for Storm PAR?” He hesitated so you sighed and turned towards the other group of storm chasers at the other end of the lot. With one hand on your hip, you pointed lazily with the other, “The surly tall one who never takes off his stupid baseball cap?”
Instantly, Owens straightened up and you knew you had piqued his interest. Chuckling, he asked, “Wait, so you’re telling me Mr. Clipboard and Chewing Gum is your brother?” You nodded. “And you want my help messing with him?”
“Yeah, that about sums it up. So, will you do it?”
The cowboy leaned over the side of the truck and gave you a wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve come to the right place.”
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Part 2 coming 8/19!
257 notes · View notes
hannieehaee · 5 months
Note
Can you please make a seventeen reaction if a saesang hurt their s/o? lysm btw💙
a sasaeng hurting their s/o
content: mentions of an ambiguous attack on the reader (u can assume it was something like pulling at reader's arm/hair or a simple slap/punch), anger from the members, angst, fluff (kinda??), etc.
wc: 829
a/n: ily <33 i was kinda conflicted on this bc im not sure whether theyd react in an idol fashion in which they just kind of let their managers handle it or if theyd handle it themselves so i went for a mixture
masterlist
seungcheol -
he's super protective over his members, which also translates over to all his loved ones. i think he would get immediately exasperated and get all up on whoever dared hurt you, fan or not. if things got physical, he'd get physical too. however, he'd try to keep things civilized.
jeonghan -
he'd let his managers handle the sasaeng, knowing that despite how much he'd like to protect you on his own, head on, he had a lot of limitations as an idol. he'd feel extremely guilty about it and would beat himself up over it for a while. would do everything he could to make you feel protected and taken care of (even more than he already did) from then on.
joshua -
he'd be unfiltered in his arguing and his anger towards the aggressor. he wouldnt get aggressive or anything, but the venom in his eyes would be enough for a person to drop dead. would go as far as try to get the authorities involved right in that moment, promising that he'd be pressing charges on your behalf. when it came to you, he'd need you to calm him down lol.
jun -
he's so used to being mobbed and to people injuring themselves due to this that he wouldn't even be surprised at this happening. this wouldnt mean that he wouldn't be insanely angry though lmao. he'd curse them out in chinese and start a whole scene if necessary. this person was not going to leave this situation unscathed.
soonyoung -
his emotions usually take over him very easily and i believe in such an instance anger would show clearly in his demeanor. he'd protectively hold you behind him as he cursed and antagonized the sasaeng while his managers attempted to alleviate the situation. there would be anger in his eyes that you'd never seen before, but it'd turn into worry and regret as soon as he met your eyes.
wonwoo -
usually when he's being crowded or fans are too close, his body language seems closed off and unwelcoming to all the unwarranted attention, but in this instance i think his fight or flight mode would activate, making him physically place himself between you and the aggressor. rare instance in which anyone would see wonwoo genuinely angry.
jihoon -
he'd be too shocked to react, only realizing what had happened after the fact. kinda out of character, but i think he'd have to be held back from taking matters into his own hands. would be furious at the blatant disrespect to both you and him. how could a fan ever lay hand on you? he'd remain disappointed in his fandom for a while, keeping himself (and you) away from the limelight for a short period of time.
seokmin -
for once in his life, the only emotion taking over him was pure unfiltered anger. BUT he would 100% prioritize checking in on you and keeping his hands and eyes on you to make sure you were okay. would let his managers take care of the situation and simply stare down the perpetrator with venom in his eyes. would be extremely apologetic to you afterwards and express guilt over and over.
mingyu -
he's shown many times before he's not afraid to tell fans to mind their boundaries before, so i think that in a serious situation in which you were being put in danger, he'd become extremely serious to a scary extent. he would not get physical or anything like that, but he'd use his words and stance to intimidate the crazed fan.
minghao -
extremely serious and put off. the moment someone laid hands on you, his body would take control of itself and put himself between you and any danger. he'd yell and curse at whoever dared cross such a boundary and disrespect both you and him in such a way. he'd hold certain disdain for fans crossing boundaries from then on.
seungkwan -
he's too polite and media trained to actually participate in the altercation, but anyone could see the genuine anger trying to filter out of him as he and his body guards tried to deal with the situation. his first priority would be you and making sure you weren't too hurt.
vernon -
he wouldve been too shocked in the moment to do anything, but as soon as the short-lived attack ended and his managers were already apprehending the perpetrator, he'd scoff and curse at whoever hurt you. there would be this unknown craze in his eyes indicating uncharacteristic anger that could only ever be provoked by such a situation.
chan -
insanely angry and frustrated at the situation. in an ideal world, he'd take care of this situation on his own, proving to you that he'd never let anyone hurt you. however, he knew that the appropriate thing to do would be to let his managers apprehend the aggressor while he checked in on you and made sure you were okay and as far away from the situation as possible.
713 notes · View notes
quinzzelx · 6 months
Text
Shadows and Starlight
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Mor return from a long mission on the Continent. Nine Months have passed since your departure and you couldn't wait to reunite with your best friend, a best friend you'd had a crush on for centuries. Only that Azriel wasn't there when you returned home. He would only return on Starfall.
Part 02
Word count: 4.5K
Warnings: A little spice at the end there. But honestly just a little! Otherwise Fluff, Reader being part of the IC!! I have not proof-read it yet.
A/N: Well, hello there! I have never posted writing for this Fandom before, so I truly hope it is enjoyable and finds it's people. Overall, I haven't really been posting on this blog in ages and felt inspired. I would love to write a second part if this is received well. This isn't proofread yet, I will do that eventually, so I apologize for possible errors. Please let me know what you think and feel free to drop into my inbox.
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The night was cool and crisp as you and Mor made your way through the streets of Velaris, the city lights casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets. Returning to Velaris had been a relief, the mission Rhys had sent you on should have taken no longer than six weeks, lastly spanning nine months that felt like an eternity. What should have been a rather quick trip to the Continent turned out to be far more complicated than anticipated. You were supposed to look into the whereabouts of a magical artifact while Mor should keep up her work as emissary. What you did not take into account whatsoever was the uprising conflict between two of their biggest noble houses, which complicated things. Trust was not easy to come by. Diplomats and Mediators by day and treasure hunters by night. Of course, you also had plenty of time to bask in the sunlight, smothering heat seeping into the marrow of your bones. Even with Mor by your side, there had been moments of homesickness that gnawed at your heart, a longing for the familiar comforts of home that seemed to grow with each passing day.
But now, as you made your way through the streets of Velaris, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. The city was alive with the buzz of activity, its streets bustling with life and energy. Even the stars seemed to shine and twinkle brighter than usually, welcoming you back. It was good to be home. As you stepped into the grand foyer of the House of Wind, you felt a rush of nostalgia wash over you. Albite nine months were nothing for Fae, you had missed this. The scent of fresh bread filled the air, no doubt made by Elain. A soft smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the familiarity, your shoulders relaxing slightly.
Mor wasted no time in making herself comfortable, stomping off to the sitting room and throwing herself onto the chaise with a dramatic sigh. You couldn't help but chuckle at her antics. As she settled into the plush pillows, you perched yourself on the edge of the nearby armchair, your gaze drifting to the flickering flames in the hearth. The crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the room, its warmth a comforting embrace after the long journey home. "So, what is on your mind?" Mor's voice broke through the silence, her eyes fluttering open as she regarded you with a curious expression. You let out a soft sigh, your thoughts drifting back to the tribulations of your time overseas. "It was... intense," you replied, voice tinged with a hint of weariness. "So much happened.” You groaned then. “Cauldron boil me, I really don’t want to fill out that mission report…” Mor nodded in understanding, a sympathetic smile playing on her lips. "I can imagine, me neither" she said, her tone filled with empathy. "But Rhys will not push us. He probably missed us as much as we missed him. It’s been a while after all.”
You smiled gratefully at her words, a sense of relief washing over you. "Yeah, you're right," you agreed, your spirits lifting at the thought of being back in Velaris once more. Back home. You fell into a comfortable silence then, the crackling fire the only sound echoing in the room. But beneath the surface, you felt a restlessness stirring within yourself—a longing to see him, to feel the familiar comfort of his presence. Obviously you missed the entirety of your family wholly. Definitely not thinking about one person more than the others. At least that is what you told yourself.
"I'm going to check on Az," you said suddenly, your voice breaking the silence. "I haven't seen him in a while…" Mor raised an eyebrow inquisitively, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Really now? Here I thought we saw none of them in a while." she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Missing someone, are we?" You felt a blush creeping into your cheeks at Mor's teasing tone, but you brushed it off with a playful roll of your eyes. "Don't be ridiculous," you retorted, though the fluttering in your chest betrayed your true feelings. With a playful wink, Mor waved you off, her attention already drifting back to the warmth of the fire. "Go on then," she said, her voice soft but encouraging. "I'll be here when you get back." And with that, you rose from your seat and made your way to Azriel's room, your heart fluttering with anticipation at the thought of seeing him again after so long. With a sense of anticipation bubbling in your chest, you picked up your pace subconsciously, your steps quick and eager. You had grown so close over the years, so comfortable in each other's company, that knocking on doors had become a formality you rarely bothered with anymore- and even if you usually still found yourself knocking from time to time, you just were too excited.
But as you pushed open the door to Azriel's room, your heart sank at the sight of the empty space before you. The room was quiet and still, save for the faint scent of cedar that lingered in the air—a stark reminder of the Male you had missed so much. Disappointment tugged at your heart as you surveyed the deserted room, your lips curling into a soft frown. It was Starfall in just a few days, you really thought, hoped, he’d be here when you returned. Before you could dwell on your thoughts any longer, a familiar voice broke through the silence, startling you. "So, Y/N, are you finally going to confess your undying love for my brother?" he quipped, his tone laced with amusement. You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips now as you threw yourself into Cassian's awaiting arms. You had missed him, missed all of them, but the absence of Azriel weighed heavily on your heart somehow. After you pull away from your embrace, Cassian offers you a kind smile, his eyes warm with understanding.
"Hey, just so you know, Az has been on a mission for the past few days," The tall Illyrian says gently, his tone filled with reassurance. "But he should be back before Starfall." You feel a surge of relief at the news, your heart fluttering with anticipation at the thought of seeing Azriel again. You waited nine months, you could wait a few more days. "Thank you, Cass," you says sincerely, gratitude shining in your eyes. Then the tall male shifts on his foot, raising an eyebrow in mock offense, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "Hey now, Y/N, I hope you're not just excited to see Az," he says with a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "I mean, I know I'm not as brooding and mysterious as our Shadowsinger, but a little appreciation for your favorite warrior wouldn't hurt." You roll your eyes again with a grin, shaking your head at Cassian's antics. "Oh, please, Cass. You know you're my second favorite warrior," you quip, your tone teasing as you give him a playful shove. You share a moment of laughter before Cassian's expression turns more serious, his gaze softening as he looks at you with genuine concern. "How was the mission? Everything okay?"
Nodding, your smile faltering slightly as you recall the challenges you faced overseas. "It was... intense, to say the least. But we made it back in one piece, thanks to Mor and her quick thinking."
Cassian nods in understanding, his expression reflecting his relief. "Well, I'm glad you're both safe. We'll have to celebrate your return properly, once you've had a chance to rest." Humming you find yourself relaxing into the familiar warmth of his company. You nod in agreement then. “Yeah, Rhys always has something up his sleeve for Starfall,” you say, voice tinged with anticipation. “I can only imagine what he has planned for this year.” Both of you fall into comfortable silence for a moment. Only when a yawn claws itself up your throat and past your lips does Cassian speak again. “Does Rhys know you’re back?” His gaze is gentle in the way he looks at you, it was easy to tell that the oaf missed you just as much.
Stretching your tired muscles slightly, you nod hastily. "Yeah, you should have seen his face when he came barging into the kitchen and saw us drink tea with Feyre." A soft chuckle leaves him then, and you share a knowing grin as you both recall similar situations.
Making your way down the hall, you find Mor fast asleep on the chaise lounge in the sitting room, her features relaxed in slumber. Cassian retrieves a soft blanket from the nearby cupboard and gently drapes it over Mor's sleeping form, his movements gentle and caring.
You settle into the chairs nearby, he joins you, and the two of you engage in light conversation, catching up on the latest developments with Nesta and the Valkyrie. You share stories and anecdotes, laughter punctuating the quiet of the night as you relish in each other's company. Eventually, exhaustion catches up with you, and you bid Cassian goodnight before retreating to your own chambers for some much-needed rest.
As you settle into bed, your mind can't help but wander towards Azriel. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavy on your limbs, thoughts of him linger at the forefront of your mind, like whispers in the darkness. You can't help but wonder how he's been faring on his mission, what trials and tribulations he's faced in your absence. A pang of guilt tugs at your heart as you realize that you hadn't even sent word of your return, leaving him in the dark about your whereabouts. Closing your eyes, you try to push aside the worry and uncertainty that gnaws at your thoughts, focusing instead on the memory of his warm smile and steady presence. You find solace in the thought of seeing him again, of being reunited with the friend who has always been a steady anchor in your life. With a soft sigh, you let the rhythmic sound of your breathing lull you into a state of calm, allowing yourself to drift into a restless sleep filled with dreams of starlit skies and whispered promises. And as sleep claims you, you hold onto the hope that tomorrow will bring with it the long-awaited reunion you've been yearning for.
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The next days pass in a blur, the absence of Azriel weighing heavily on your heart despite the moments of joy spent with your family. You find solace in the familiar routines of daily life, in the laughter and chatter of your loved ones gathered together in the warmth of the House of Wind.
Mornings are filled with shared meals and lively conversation, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the aroma of freshly baked pastries. On the day before Starfall you find yourself amidst the hustle and bustle of daily life in Velaris, as you join Feyre, Mor, and Nesta for a day of dress shopping. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked goods, adding to the festive atmosphere of the day.
As you weave through the throngs of people, your eyes alight on a quaint boutique you’re all too familiar with, nestled between two bustling shops. Its windows are adorned with elegant gowns in every shade of the rainbow, their silken fabrics shimmering in the sunlight.
With a shared glance and a knowing smile, you make your way inside, greeted by the tinkling of bells and the warm smile of the shopkeeper. The interior of the boutique is a veritable treasure trove of fashion, with racks of dresses in every style and design imaginable. As you browse through the racks, your eyes are drawn to a stunning gown in a shade of deep midnight blue, its bodice adorned with delicate lace and sparkling sequins. It catches the light in such a way that it seems to shimmer and dance with every movement, and you can't help but feel drawn to it.
Feyre picks up a flowing gown in a shade of pale lavender, holding it up against herself with a thoughtful expression. "What do you think?" she asks, turning to you and the others for their opinion. Mor nods approvingly, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "It's lovely, Feyre. You would look stunning in that." Nesta, ever the pragmatist, arches an eyebrow skeptically. "It's a bit too... ethereal for my taste," she remarks dryly. "But if it makes you happy, then go for it." You can't help but chuckle at Nesta's blunt honesty, knowing that she speaks from a place of genuine concern for her sister's happiness. "I think it's beautiful, Feyre," you offer, a warm smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But ultimately, it's up to you." Feyre returns your smile gratefully, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N," she says softly, her voice filled with warmth. "I think I'll give it a try." As Feyre disappears into the dressing room to try on the gown, Mor turns to you with a glint in her eyes. "So, Y/N, have you found anything that catches your eye?" she asks, her tone teasing.
You shrug nonchalantly, though your heart races at the thought of the dress you had spotted earlier. "Maybe," you reply coyly, a playful smile playing at your lips. "There was one that caught my attention." Nesta raises an eyebrow curiously, her gaze sharpening with interest. "Oh? And what does it look like?" she inquires, her tone betraying her curiosity.
You hesitate for a moment, your cheeks flushing slightly as you recall the details of the dress. "It's... um, it's a deep midnight blue," you begin, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words to describe it.
Mor's eyes light up with mischief as she interrupts, a knowing smirk on her lips. "Sounds like something a certain Shadowsinger would most definitely like," she quips, her voice filled with amusement. You feel your cheeks grow even warmer at Mor's teasing remark, knowing that there is some truth to her words. "Maybe," you mumble, unable to hide the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips.
Before the conversation can continue further, Feyre emerges from the dressing room, the lavender gown flowing around her in a cascade of ethereal beauty. You gasp in awe at the sight of her, your heart swelling with pride and admiration.
"Feyre, you look incredible," you exclaim, your voice filled with genuine awe. "That dress was made for you." Feyre blushes at the compliment, her smile radiant as she twirls in front of the mirror. "Thank you, Y/N" she says warmly, her eyes shining with happiness. "I think I've found my dress."  As Feyre twirls in front of the mirror, her radiant smile lighting up the room, Mor and Nesta exchange knowing glances before turning their attention to you.
"Well, Y/N, it's your turn now," Mor says with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling again. "You can't just talk about that mysterious midnight blue dress and not show it to us."
Nesta nods in agreement, her expression curious. "Yes, I'm quite intrigued to see this dress that has caught your eye," she adds, a hint of amusement in her voice. With a nod of determination, you make your way to the dressing room, the anticipation building with each step.
As you slip into the dress, you can't help but marvel at how perfectly it fits, clinging to your curves in all the right places. The fabric is soft against your skin, the deep midnight blue hue shimmering in the light, casting an enchanting glow around you. The bodice of the dress is adorned with delicate lace, the intricate patterns weaving a spellbinding tapestry across your skin. The neckline plunges low, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of skin, while the back dips into a daring V, leaving just enough to the imagination. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the reactions of your companions, before stepping out of the dressing room to reveal yourself to them.
Feyre gasps in awe as she lays eyes on you, her expression filled with admiration. "Wow, Y/N, you look absolutely stunning," she exclaims, her voice filled with genuine wonder.
Mor and Nesta nod in agreement, their eyes wide with astonishment. "That dress was made for you," Mor adds. As you gaze at your reflection in the mirror, a surge of confidence courses through you. It's been so long since you've worn anything other than fighting leathers, and the sensation of silk against your skin is a welcome change. You feel sexy, beautiful, and alive in a way that you haven't in months, the weight of responsibility and duty momentarily lifted from your shoulders. For the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to revel in the simple pleasure of feeling feminine and desirable.
But amidst the rush of excitement and adrenaline, there's a nagging voice in the back of your mind, whispering of doubts and insecurities. What will Azriel think when he sees you like this? Will he be pleased, impressed, or will he merely see you as the same old friend he's always known? You bite your bottom lip nervously at the thought, a flush rising to your cheeks as you imagine his reaction. But deep down, beneath the layers of uncertainty and self-doubt, there's a spark of hope flickering within you, a glimmer of possibility that maybe, just maybe, he'll see you in a new light. That maybe the feelings you had harbored for him for the past two centuries weren’t one-sided.
With a determined shake of your head, you banish the doubts from your mind, focusing instead on the here and now. Tonight, you'll revel in the joy of the moment, surrounded by friends who love and support you unconditionally. And tomorrow, well, tomorrow is another day. "I must say, I almost forgot you had it in you to clean up so nicely."
You roll your eyes playfully at Mor's teasing remark, unable to suppress a laugh at her antics. "Oh, please, Mor," you quip, your tone laced with mock indignation. "You act as if I've been wearing armor for the past century." Feyre chuckles, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Well, you certainly seem to be enjoying yourself in that dress," she remarks with a knowing smile.
Nesta, ever the pragmatist, raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Yes, but can you actually afford it?" she asks dryly, her tone tinged with amusement. You feign offense at Nesta's remark "Of course I can afford it, Nesta," you reply with a playful smirk. "I'll just put it on Rhysand's tab."
The group erupts into laughter at your comment. With a final twirl in front of the mirror, you turn to the shopkeeper with a grin. "I'll take it," you declare confidently, a sense of satisfaction washing over you as you make your purchase. "And put it on Rhysand's tab, of course."
The shopkeeper chuckles at your remark, nodding in agreement as she wraps the dress in delicate tissue paper. "Very well, Miss Y/N" she says with a smile. "I'll be sure to send the bill to the High Lord's estate."
With your new dress in hand and your spirits lifted, you bid farewell to the boutique and make your way back into the bustling streets of Velaris.
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Azriel strolls through the lush gardens of Tarquin's estate, the relentless heat of the Summer Court bearing down on him with an intensity that he finds almost suffocating. Sweat beads on his brow, trickling down his temples as he walks, and he can't help but curse the relentless sun that beats down from above, as if intent on draining him of every last ounce of energy.
He sighs heavily as he reflects on his current predicament, his thoughts drifting to the far-off lands of his homeland where snow, cold, and winter reign supreme. The sweltering heat of the Summer Court is a stark contrast to the familiar chill of the Night Court, and Azriel can't help but wonder if it's possible that he's somehow managed to burn his wings in the sun. But such thoughts are quickly pushed aside as he reminds himself of the task at hand. Everything had gone well with his meeting with Tarquin, and now he simply longs to retire to his chambers and escape the oppressive heat for a few precious hours of rest.
As he continues on his way, Azriel can't help but think about the upcoming Starfall celebration. Tomorrow would mark the end of his short mission in the Summer Court, and he couldn't wait to return home to Velaris. The thought of spending Starfall without Y/N weighs heavily on his mind, and he can't help but feel a pang of longing in his chest at the prospect. Suddenly, a voice breaks through his thoughts, a familiar presence intruding upon his mind with the ease of a whisper on the wind. It's Rhys, reaching out to him.
"Enjoying the summer heat, brother?" Rhys's voice echoes in his mind, a hint of amusement lacing his words. "Remember, not all of us are fortunate enough to have wings to shield us from the sun's rays."
Azriel can't help but snort at Rhys's teasing, the sound reverberating silently within his own mind. "I'd take a blizzard over this heat any day," he replies, his tone dry with sarcasm. "At least in the Winter Court, I wouldn't feel like I'm about to melt into a puddle."
Rhys's laughter fills his mind. "Ah, but where's the fun in that?" he quips "Besides, think of it as a challenge. A test of endurance, if you will."
Azriel shakes his head incredulously at his brother's words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. "You would find amusement in my suffering, wouldn't you?" he retorts. But Rhys's next words carry a weight of sincerity that catches Azriel off guard. "In all seriousness, Az, you'll be home before you know it," He assures him, his voice filled with warmth and encouragement. "Starfall is just around the corner, and there are loved ones eagerly awaiting your return."
There's a cryptic hint in Rhys's words, a subtle suggestion that Azriel can't quite decipher. He furrows his brows in confusion, his mind racing as he tries to make sense of his brother's words. After all, he's only been gone for a week.  Rhys's voice fades from Azriel's mind, leaving him with a sense of calm and reassurance. "Until tomorrow, brother," he murmurs silently.
Azriel retreats for the night, the weight of exhaustion heavy on his shoulders. As he settles into his chambers, a sense of relief washes over him at the thought of returning home tomorrow.
His mind wanders to how he'll spend his first day back in Velaris, imagining the familiar streets and faces that he's missed so dearly the past week. But amidst the anticipation, there's a nagging sense of longing that tugs at his heart. Clasping his scarred hands together, Azriel reaches into the pocket of his bag and pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment. It's a letter from Y/N, the only way they've been able to stay in contact while she's been away on her mission.
He doesn't know why he took the letter with him, but holding it in his hands brings a sense of serenity and comfort. Even though their last exchanged letters had been about a month ago, knowing that Y/N is safe and well brings him a measure of peace.
With a sigh, Azriel unfolds the parchment and reads over her words once more, the familiar handwriting bringing a smile to his lips. He makes a silent promise to himself to write to her as soon as he gets home. But now, as he prepares to return home for the celebration, he can't help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought of Y/N missing out. He wonders what she might be doing on Starfall, if she's found a way to make the most of the day despite being apart from their shared family.
Azriel knew how she hadn’t missed a single Starfall since… The heavy feeling of subdued rage settles in the pits of his stomach at the thought of what she endured during those dark years under the Mountain. He wishes he could have been there to protect her, to shield her from the horrors of their captivity.
His thoughts drift to a darker memory then, one that haunts him even now. He remembers her broken body, her spirit shattered and her light dimmed, when she and Rhys returned after Feyre broke the curse. The sight of her lying there, broken and bruised, fills him with a sense of sorrow and rage unlike anything he's ever known. He can still feel the weight of her pain, the echoes of her suffering lingering in the recesses of his mind. In that moment, all he wanted was to take her pain away, to hold her close and mend her broken spirit.  Azriel thinks of the first Starfall after they returned from under the mountain, how Y/N had opened up about her grief and trauma for the first time. He can still see the sadness in her eyes, the weight of her pain etched into every line of her face. It was a stark contrast to the joyous celebration unfolding around them, a reminder of the darkness that still lingered. From that day forward, Y/N never missed a single Starfall celebration.
As Azriel drifts off to sleep, frustration gnaws at his insides like a relentless beast. Despite his best efforts to push Y/N from his mind, she lingers there like a haunting specter, her presence weaving through his thoughts and dreams with an undeniable persistence. Rubbing his hand over his face in a futile attempt to banish the memories, Azriel can't help but feel a sense of shame at the intensity of his longing for her. He prides himself on his control, on his ability to keep his emotions in check, but she has a way of unraveling him like no one else.
And then there are the dreams - vivid and all-consuming, they play out like scenes from a forbidden fantasy, leaving Azriel feeling both exhilarated and guilty in their wake. They were friends. Just friends. Best friends, actually. And even though this urge was nothing completely unfamiliar, these thoughts had overtaken him completely as soon as she left.
Again his mind wandered. Asking himself how her lips would feel clashing against his, how she would wrap her arms around his neck, having to crane her neck for a kiss due to their height difference. What she would taste like, what sounds he could coax out of her. How those exact plush lips would feel wrapped around his cock.- A growl leaves him through clenched teeth. His eyebrows pinched as he squeezes his eyes shut, palming himself through his briefs. Confusion etched on his beautiful face then, because he just could not understand. She was his best friend, so why could he not stop thinking about her like this? Thus, so very determined, he decided that this had to change, while simultaneously fisting his heavy cock in one of his hands. "Fuck"
☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆
I hope you enjoyed this little piece of my imagination. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated! Please let me know if you'd like a part 2 :)
864 notes · View notes
angelbarelywrites · 6 months
Text
♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting (part 2)
♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda)/ Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡ cw; Billy Lenz, mentions of violence and general slasher activity, kidnapping, stalking
♡ notes; i didn’t include Bubba last time, so i slipped him in with the pt 2 team :v
also for ghostface i went with Danny over Billy + Stu, just because i’m more comfortable writing older characters tbh. and he’s very attractive to me. maybe i can do a college au fic of them in the future?
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Jason Vorhees
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> you were lost
> utterly, hopelessly lost without a map, compass, or even your backpack
> you were out camping with a couple of new friends when you wandered off to pick flowers
> well, acquaintances more like- they weren’t particularly nice to you, but you knew one from your home town
> before you knew the sun was starting to set and you had no clue which way to go
> you’re kicking yourself for being so dumb but try to make the best of it, continuing to collect flowers and pretty rocks
> soon enough you find yourself on the edge of a lake
> that couldn’t have been good- there weren’t any lakes near the campsite at all
> maybe this was that old summer camp they’d mentioned?
> either way you turn around and try your best to retrace your steps
> but even with a full moon it’s just too dark and too dense and you’re exhausted
> holding in tears, you find a small meadow and finally sit to rest
> you’re still sniffling and rubbing your eyes when someone walks up to you
> you were so oblivious that Jason was able to get a few feet in front of you before you noticed
> he seems…perplexed to find you there
> he thought he’d gotten all of the campers
> and you didn’t really look like you belonged with those fornicators
> (or at least that’s what he told himself to justify leaving you alive)
> he’s holding his machete and soaked with your companions’ blood, but you don’t seem to notice
> “…can you take me back to my friends?”
> well he most certainly cannot do that, not if he wants you to like him- though he’s not sure why that matters
> he’s still staring so you, exhausted, do the only thing you can think to
> “…do you want a flower? I picked a lot”
> he’s delighted and takes it before finally gesturing for you to follow him
> you can’t keep up, so eventually he picks you up
> and like that you’re nearly dozing off
> you don’t even notice he’s taking you back the way you came from
> and he’s glad- he wasn’t going to give you much of an option anyway
Bo Sinclair
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> single travelers are so much easier to deal with
> so when Lester gives him the call that some college kid was stuck on the road, he’s eager for an easy catch
> you take your sweet ass time getting to the station- even though Lester drove you most of the way you let him drop you off just outside of town
> the smell of the truck was really getting to you, and you’re happy to let the dog lead you
> when he strides out you’re cooing over Jonesy and giving her a belly rub for her troubles
> he’s seen his fair share of attractive victims
> men, women, and folks that didn’t fit either category
> and he’s slept with most of them
> but you… there’s something extra special about you
> he decides right there he’s not taking care of you without at least getting a taste
> you’re not too impressed by his flirting- or at least you try and act like it
> but he catches your pink cheeks and quiet giggles as he takes you on a walk
> because of course he’s got the part down the road at his place
> by the time you get there he’s decided he’s marrying you - or maybe keeping you tied up, beggars can’t be choosers
> he’s impulsive but he’s never wanted to keep anyone before
> “hey sugar-“ god your face heats up just hearing him call you that “turns out I don’t have that part you need. It should be in by tomorrow, if you can stay the night?”
> you say yes before you can think critically- he’s good at getting folks wrapped around his finger like that
> “Good. Cause I’m just dying to show you some real southern hospitality…”
Danny Johnson
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> he knows you long before you know him
> he’s a natural nosy guy- he’s a journalist after all
> and a serial killer, of course stalking is on his to do list
> originally you were going to be a victim
> you’d make a good story, a young person taken tragically early
> but you were too cute to die just yet- he had to at least meet you, just once
> if you were a dick no one would say anything nice for your article, right?
> so he just happens to bump into you outside your work one day
> literally bump
> when you spill coffee all over yourself he smoothly apologizes and offers to help clean you up
> “What a mess- I’m so sorry sweets. Let me take care of all this”
> and you fall for it, hook line and sinker
> he’s a handsome guy, he’s used to that but he’s smug anyways
> he gives you a spare shirt of his, though you still skip work
> he buys you another coffee and you sit in his car chatting
> you’re innocent enough to trust him like that- to get in a vehicle with a strange man?
> a strange man that’d been stalking you, no less
> it’s adorable- if he wasn’t so attached he could kill you right there
> but you’re just so damn sweet, and genuine
> and you’re so fascinated by these Ghost Face killings…
> maybe you’re worth keeping around for a bit
> just a bit
> that’s what he says to himself anyways
> when you meet him as Ghost Face, it’s after you’ve already got him all figured out
> and he’s lucky that you like a bad boy
Billy Lenz
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> it’s a given that you first meet him over the phone
> you’re renting out a spare room from Mrs Mac, not in the sorority but a good enough tenant that she keeps you around
> you get along well with the girls and cook them meals, run study sessions and help clean
> it’s almost parental at times, even if you’re not far off in age
> Billy hates you at first, for taking such good care of ‘filthy piggy whores’
> he tells you just as much over the phone, but you’re not bothered
> you never seem to be bothered by his calls
> and that pisses him off more
> but you’re so so cute… it quickly becomes an obsession
> he’s in your walls constantly, watching you
> and the calls from the moaner start coming more and more frequently at times you’re home alone
> one day you just start giggling at him, tipsy “you know, you scare the girls,”
> “good i—“
> “but your voice is sooo nice. that’s why i pick up so much”
> you didn’t mean to confess that , and you hope he takes it as an awkward joke
> when he hangs up you think that maybe he did take it that way
> its not until late that night that you realize that he knew he was sincere
> before you can register that there’s anything wrong he’s covering your mouth and pinning you to your bed
> “hi there, baby doll,”
> his grin gets huge when your still horrified face goes bright red
> he always knew you were perfect
Bubba Sawyer
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> you pick up Nubbins hitchhiking one day, and he’s just dumbfounded by you
> you’re nonplussed by his rambling and you don’t squirm at his yucky pictures. you don’t even kick him out, just drop him off at the gas station.
> you’re not really his type, but you’re fascinating
> he’s gotta get you home to meet his brothers
> so he pops your tires when you go inside- all four
> when you come back out Drayton is cursing him out and smacking him upside the head
> he makes him take you back to the house to rest up while he gets you tires
> of course he intends for Bubba to kill you
> but Nubbins doesn’t pass the message along, because he’s Nubbins
> “Here Bubba! I made us a new friend!”
> you shyly greet him, but he’s an oddly calming presence
> let’s be honest you’ve gotta be okay with a lot fast to like the Sawyers
> so maybe you’re just in denial about the material
> but you tell him you like his mask- and you do
> he obviously worked really hard on getting the makeup just right- and it compliments his suit
> he stares at you a long while before taking your hand and giving you a grand tour
> well, more a tour of his favorite spots
> the chicken coup, a patch of wildflowers out back, and his room full of trinkets collected from victims
> you’re strangely enamored by this big, quiet man
> and you don’t get the sense you’re allowed to leave
> especially when Drayton comes home and goes on and on about witnesses
> but you didn’t really even have an end goal in mind on your road trip anyways
> and now you’ve got Bubba to protect you
> maybe it’s not so bad, stuck with those weirdos
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queers-gambit · 17 days
Text
Pretty Boy Swag
prompt: your big ass family comes to town and hosts a town-wide family reunion. after they meet your boyfriend for the first time, your proximity is criticized, and when you try to fall back, Eddie's swift to your side again. -> or when someone else calls you clingy, you try to fall back but your man doesn't want that.
pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
collection masterlist: Clingy Baby
word count: 6.2k+
note: AQPDO got me back on my Joe kick, Goddamnit
warnings: Eddie being the man we all want and deserve, kinda AU timeline (Eddie lives, Vecna still happened, and school is back in session? it confused me too, but fuck it we ball). shitty family members being judgmental. the fuck is this plot? idk her. there's insecurity, drama, anxiety, obviously some angst, but mostly hurt / comfort. drug use (it's Eddie, c'mon), kinda abrupt ending, author's lowkey a pyromaniac and advises you do not play with fire or gasoline.
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The summer was soon to end, leaving behind a muggy, thick heat that broke several air conditioning units around town from power usage. Windows were left wide open for cross breezes, doors, too; and fans were cranked up high. There was a rather nasty storm on the way in, but luckily, with it, came the usual drop in temperature - just in time for the coming week's activities. The last week of summer before the dreaded school year began anew, but luckily, it was officially senior year.
Eddie jogged up the rickety porch stairs and opened the unlocked screen door that was close to rusting off its hinges; the front door open and an oscillating fan turned on to blow a breeze at Ed.
The door swung open without effort, banging loudly and making Wayne glance up, "Hey, kid."
"Hey, Unc."
"There's a sandwich in the fridge, if you're hungry," Wayne cleared his throat, smoking a cigarette at the tiny coffee table covered in stacks of bills.
"Thanks," Eddie mumbled. "Here," he dropped a small wad of bills to the table.
"The hell's this?" Wayne scoffed, glaring up at the kid - who shrugged.
"Should be enough for utilities and water, maybe a bit for groceries," Eddie answered, grabbing a beer from the fridge and sighing with a grunt as he dropped into the arm chair.
"You selling dope again?"
"It's consistent money."
"You know I don't like that shit, kid."
"Which is why you don't see it - you just get the cash."
Wayne scoffed in amusement and smirked, nodding while releasing a deep sigh. "All right, uh, thanks, kid. I appreciate this."
Eddie nodded, brows furrowing as his mind whirled from his excursion in town; musing, "Something's gotta be in the air."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. Tell you what, people are... Really in the market to buy this week. Everywhere I went was so crowded - I couldn't even get Goddamn cigarettes - "
"Watch your mouth, boy," Wayne reprimanded automatically. While he was all too used to Eddie's foul mouth, he still didn't like him using the Lord's name in vain. "It's all that, uh, anticipation," Wayne shrugged, dividing a few cash bills to an envelope, "got people all excited."
"Anticipation about what?"
"For the L/N Reunion."
"The what?"
Wayne looked up, offering a stale look, "L/N? Your girlfriend's family?"
Eddie sounded exasperated, "I know that - I'm asking what the hell you're talking about?"
"The L/N family, they've lived in these parts for generations. So, when they have these, like, uh, family reunions, it's an entire town-wide event. Everyone tries to go. I guess you must've been... Oh..." He shrugged, "8 or so last time they were all here. Whole place gets energized, they all participate; you know, it's a big cookout and shit."
"Right."
"It's usually a good time," Wayne assured, taking another drag. "And when it's not, it's because it's a really good time. They use the field out back behind Sullivan's old place?"
"No shit," Eddie chuckled, taking a slug.
"Uh-huh," Wayne hummed, the cig bobbing; ash dropping to dust the bills. "They get a bunch of tents and shit; catering, too - it's like a big carnival. Heard some might drive some caravan in." Eddie was briefly reminded of his adventures in the mobile home with Steve Harrington and Company, yet there was no time to dwell because Wayne was questioning, "Your girl didn't say anything to you 'bout this?"
Eddie's head slowly shook, "No, but she's comin' over tonight."
"I got work."
"I know."
Wayne chuckled, "Which reminds me, I grabbed you a box of condoms."
"Oh, Unc, no!" Eddie begged with a groan.
"You're too young for a baby, Eddie!"
"Doesn't mean buy me condoms, old man!"
"You could just say thank you!"
"I'm not thanking you for condoms!"
The screen door hit the frame in a startling bang, the thin metal slipping from your shocked grip. You stepped into the trailer home, giggling, "Whaaaat the hell did I just walk in on?"
"Oh, hi, baby," Eddie greeted in a grumble; one hand wiping his face, trying to hide his embarrassment, "so glad you heard that!"
"Hey, honey," Wayne followed, you stepping inside and depositing your usual purse by the door.
"Everyone okay?" You asked teasingly.
"Yeah, Eddie's bein' dramatic again," Wayne spoke casually. "Hey, I, uh, I heard about the Reunion. That's gotta be real excitin', 'uh?"
"Oh, God," you groaned lightly, Eddie straightening himself up to invite you onto his lap. "Honestly, Unc? I was hoping this might be the one place in town I could escape from talking about that."
"Oh, sorry, I didn't - "
"No, no, I only mean, it's been nonstop in my family," you pouted. "Everything's gotta be perfect, so there's this, like, palpable tension, which makes it a madhouse, you know, 'cause everyone's coming into town. It's peaceful here."
"They all stayin' at yours?" Eddie asked softly, acutely aware and in-tune with your tangible anxiety; deflating himself and his energy to better absorb yours.
"Yeah," you pouted.
"All of them?"
"Until the festivities kick off, then most are gonna camp."
Wayne frowned, "When was the last time you saw 'em all?"
You breathed deeply, mulling his words while Eddie took a swig of beer; fingers flexing to pet where he held your hip. "Years ago," you answered, "and while it's really nice to spend time with them all, it's just..." You trailed off, frowning.
"A li'l much?" Wayne supplied.
"In the simplest terms, oh yeah," you sighed deeply. "I'm really grateful to still have time with them, don't get me wrong, but Christ Alive. There's four people in my room, we have two cousins in the attic, there's an Auntie in my parent's room, another couple in the basement - it's an absolute mad house!"
Wayne nodded with sympathy, seeing the way you pouted and dropped into Eddie's chest under his chin. His brows instantly crinkled, collecting you closer into his chest in comfort; keeping you curled across his lap. Wayne glanced at the wad of bills Eddie had contributed and sighed, gathering up both paper and cash bills. As he cleaned up around him, Wayne spoke, "You can, uh, stay here, if you wanna."
"Huh?" You gaped, looking at Wayne in earnest shock. "No, no, no, it's not - I just meant to complain to get it off my chest, you know? I wasn't fishing for - "
"I know, honey, but I can physically feel your stress from here," he chuckled. "Tell you what, if you agree to make dinner, you can crash here for the week."
With a grin, you nodded, "Your bodies might go into shock, I'm gonna force y'all to eat vegetables."
Both men laughed in amusement, the tension melting as you were obviously relieved by the fact that you wouldn't have to stay at your family home for the duration of the Reunion. It loosened you up, the trio happy to indulge in witty, harmless banter before Wayne was filing the bills in a mucked-up manilla folder. He stood to get ready for work, leaving you and Eddie in the armchair.
"Can I ask a favor?" You whispered into his neck, slowly pressing open, languid kisses to the sensitive skin.
"Anything you want, baby."
"I should go pack an overnight bag."
"Want me to come, too?"
"No, no, I was gonna ask you to go grab us dinner while I was gone," you mused, smirking gently; his head tilting back and sighing through his nose. "Oh, don't - "
"No, no, baby, it's fine," he scoffed, "we've just been dating 4 years and I haven't met your family. Like the whole family."
You scoffed, "So?"
"Do you not, you know, like, want me to?"
"I think it's more really not wanting you to meet them, Eddie - it's different."
You tried to stand, but his arms were like vices; keeping you in place and speaking softly, "Baby, how? Don't you think it's time? Nothing - not even your family - is gonna make me love you less. Plus, like, isn't the whole town invited to this Reunion?"
"I mean..."
"Did you think we were gonna avoid each other the whole week?"
"I was kinda hoping we wouldn't even go, if I'm honest," you admitted sadly, "but I'm a really good girlfriend, so we're going 'cause I know who would be most inclined to buy whatever product you might have left."
"Wow, you're gonna bring me new customers? Your family, too, huh?"
"Who said anything about family?" You smirked.
"Baby," Eddie sighed, pinning you with the beginnings of his puppy dog eyes, "if you're embarrassed, you can just say that - "
"Of what? Of you?"
"Well, yeah, or of us."
"Eddie, that's the farthest thing from the truth!" Guilt sounded through your words, "Baby, I love you - but I know my family and I don't want them to, like, infect you."
"Not possible," he hummed, bringing you in close to press a kiss to your lips in reassurance.
Not wanting to dwell, you quickly changed the subject and whispered against his lips, "Will you please go pick up a pizza from Reggie's?"
Eddie's head reared back slightly, his expression morphing into confusion, "Reggie doesn't sell pizza, baby."
"He does for me, I'll call it in if you can pick it up. It's just in the opposite direction of my house."
"Baby gets what baby wants."
You scoffed a laugh, kissing him again and standing finally, offering your hand to him; helping yank Ed from his seat just as Wayne was reappearing. After calling Reggie, you all left at the same time, shuffling out into the parking lot together to bid Wayne goodbye; waving as he drove off. Then, Eddie swiftly huddled you into the backdoors of his van; holding your legs around his hips.
Shocked laughter racked your lungs, holding onto his shoulders as he nuzzled directly into your neck and balanced your weight in his arms. He breathed in deeply, you petting the back of his head, both feeling yourselves recharge; usually trying to refrain from these grand gestures of PDA in front of Wayne. "Missed you today," Eddie mumbled, lips tickling your ear, causing you to slightly squirm.
"We were apart all of, what? 4 hours?" You mused quietly with a grin.
"Too long," he whined.
"I know, pretty boy. Which is why we have to hurry up - the faster you go get dinner and I go home, the faster we can come back here. I'm thinking... Blunts and movies tonight?"
Ed lifted up, your chest feeling cold from his retracted heat; but his face was calculating, then agreeing, "Yeah, we gotta go, let's go, c'mon, let's go, let's go, let's go!"
Max could hear your laughter from where she pet her neighbor's dog.
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Honestly? The only thing missing from the Reunion were actual carnival game prizes - like stuffed animals, goldfish, novelty gags, sports team embroidered plush memorabilia.
There were caravans of RV's - both rented and owned - lined up with cars of all shapes, sizes, colors, and passenger capacity; Christmas lights strung up around them like spiderwebs. Patio tables were erected to host intimate groups of people while banquet tables were used to boast an array of foods and drinks. Different speakers were set out and connected, playing the same soundtracks - while others at other distances played different genres. The soft ground from previous rain had hardened from the amount of feet (of all sizes) stomping over the mud and grass. Solo cups dotted the area like stars splatter the sky.
Oh! There was also a clown missing! The Reunion did not hire a clown - unless you count Uncle David...
"You scared yet?" You asked, sitting in the open passenger seat of Eddie's van, the back doors wide open to host the attending party members. Eddie was leaning at the hinges beside you, facing the back of the van, quickly dropping his gaze onto you and straightening up.
Eddie shifted subtly, side-stepping so he stood in front of you for a semi-private conversation. "Oh, please, think I'm the scariest guy 'round these parts. Your family's harmless."
"Oh, uh-huh," you mused, scoffing a small chuckle before taking a lazy pull of your red solo cup; matching those scattered in the field. Don't worry, though, 'cause your cousins were Litter Bugs and would pick up any and everything they come across when clean-up commenced. It was a rule of the Reunion - leave the area better than you found it.
"You good, baby?" Eddie asked softly, trying to keep his voice quiet; which was easy, since Robin and Steve were cracking boisterous jokes to the group.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah," you nodded, eyes glazed as you peered over Eddie's shoulder to survey the absolute (controlled) chaos your family entertained.
"Yeah, 'cause that's so convincing."
You sighed and leaned forward some; legs hooking around Eddie's and encouraging him forward so your chin rested on his sternum. "I promise, I'm okay," you whispered with a smile, "just a little overwhelmed."
He nodded, petting a loose strand of hair off your face. "You've not really seen your family much," he noted, "been hiding here with us the whole time."
"I'll... Get around to it."
"When?"
"Eddie," you sighed, pulling back to still look up at him - curse his gangly frame.
"C'mon, baby," he pouted, "come introduce me to your family. Huh? I think it's time, I'm excited."
You felt frozen for a moment before Dustin's voice was whining, "When's dinner? Whole field smells like good eats."
Eddie pinned you with a small 'told you so' look, chuckling as you groaned and nudged him back a little to slide from your seat. "All right," you announced to the group, "c'mon, let's go mix and mingle. Play nice and they'll feed you."
You didn't even hear the small chorus of chuckles as your ears blasted the hammering sound of your nervous heartbeat. You cleared your throat as the group grabbed their things, Steve and Eddie closing the van doors before congregating together to begin stalking across the mud. With the red solo cup in one hand, your other was snatched swiftly by Eddie - tugging playfully to jolt you into his side and secure his arm around your shoulders.
You could see Hopper and Uncle David laughing almost to the point of tears; both with beers in hand, several others dotting around them to share in mirth. Wayne was tearing into a bacon cheese burger with an ice cold beer and a table full of "uncles" - or family friends you just called "uncle". Joyce Byers was playing corn hole with that PI the Hollands hired, Murray Bauman, to find their daughter, Barbra, years ago when Will Byers first went missing, too. They were being cheered on by a sea of cousins - all heavily intoxicated and keeping score on a chalkboard. The Wheelers were seen playing a few table games; Holly happy to play with your aunt's Australian Shepard, Auggie, while her parents were distracted. The Sinclairs were dancing together under the strung Christmas lights, Erica accepting a gargantuan size cotton candy to share with a few friends. Well, honestly, with the way she was eyeing the sugary treat, you wouldn't be surprised if she inhaled it all by herself.
"Hey now, baby girl! Ova here!" You heard, glancing over automatically just to catch sight of your father waving you over to where he and his siblings stood with a few cousins, your mother, and a couple siblings.
"Baby," you mumbled, squeezing his hand. He instantly parted from Steve and followed you; both missing the looks exchanged amongst your family, a few perking their brows swiftly and others even rolling their eyes. "Hey, guys," you greeted kindly when you arrived around the patio table.
"There she is!"
You were happily received by your loved ones, exchanging pleasantries before automatically returning to Eddie's side. "Um, hey, guys, can I introduce you to my boyfriend, Eddie?" You made the proper introductions, holding his arm as he offered his dominant hand to shake as he greeted the family members he had begged you to meet.
"Got you this," your father purred, handing you a full plate of ribs and all accompanying fixings.
"And this, for Eddie," your mother handed you his plate carefully. "You know Cooper's cookin' goes first."
"Thank you, guys," your boyfriend appeared as if out of thin air over your shoulder, leaning in to peck your mother's cheek. He straightened up to shake your father's hand and take both plates from you as your sister stood from her seat.
"Here," she waved, letting you take her spot because it was the only place beside an open seat so you and Ed could sit together.
Darlene, some distant cousin, daughter of your Aunt Rebecca, scoffed, "What? You two have to sit right next to each other?"
You pulled a face, "Girl."
"It's no biggie," your sister instantly defended, "and it's Eddie's first time here, can't let him sit alone."
"Mhm," Darlene snickered, your hand subtly latching onto Eddie's thigh to give a comforting squeeze. He dropped a quick wink, leaning over to take a fork full of baked beans from your plate - humming obnoxiously when he ate it.
Before you knew it, a couple hours had passed, the sun setting, and the bonfire was being structured. In fact, your name had been hollered for aid, looking to Eddie out of habit. He smirked at you, petting the hand he held with his thumb, nodding slightly - not in permission, but in assurance. Before either could say something, your Aunt Rebecca mused (but really scolded), "Oh, Jesus Christ, you two! You're not gonna fall apart if you're not together 20 seconds, he'll be fine to hang while you get the fire goin', girl. Go!"
You bristled at her tone, but only minimally rolled your eyes at Eddie before pecking his lips as you stood from the chair you had been offered. "Be back, baby," you whispered, and as you straightened up, raised your voice, "don't listen to a single thing they say and don't let them bully you!"
Laughing over jeers, you offered your middle finger, slapped your hand into Cousin Allison's, then skipped towards the wooden teepee pyre. Turns out, all "adults" were too intoxicated to deal with the bonfire and your cousins all too nervous to use gasoline - hence why they needed help. So, you playfully pushed them back and fixed the structure; stuffed kindling in ideal places, sprinkled a responsible amount of gasoline, and with a piece of old newspaper, used a lighter to ignite the flame. Then, when it caught, you carefully used it to catch along the gas-soaked kindling. Once that initial contact was made, you dropped the paper and stepped back because, a moment later, the entire pyre caught flame with a small but defining whooshing sound.
The cousins cheered you on, amusement shared as Cousin Maxwell handed you a fresh solo cup as a reward. You blew past the praise, knowing they were just being dramatic for humor's sake; making your way back towards the group you had left - intent on making s'mores with Eddie. Except, Aunt Rebecca stood to meet you, just enough of a distance away that her words weren't overheard.
"So," she smiled, "he seems real nice."
"Hmm?" You took a sip of your drink.
"Your boyfriend."
"Oh," you nodded, "yeah, no, he's arguably the nicest guy I know."
"Even more than that Harrington fella?" She asked, eyeing your friend and twiddling her fingers flirtatiously. Steve smirked and waved back.
"Uh-huh. C'mon, Auntie," you nudged her, "your husband's right over there."
"He's fine," she scoffed.
"Well, all right - "
"Hang on," she halted you from leaving, seizing your arm. "I was just wondering, you know, how nice a boy can be with all them tattoos? I mean, only delinquents defile themselves like that."
You scoffed, "I seriously doubt inking your skin is an indication of kindness in a person - but that's a good one."
Rebecca halted your departure again by asking, "Well, how healthy do you think this is?"
"Be more specific, Auntie."
Her eyes rolled, "Your relationship, girl, pay attention."
You chose not to engage fully, just sighing, "It's the healthiest relationship I've ever known - not much thanks to you, since nobody in this family would know a healthy, functional relationship if it punched them in the face."
With a fake smile, you pulled your arm from her grip and only managed two steps before she was sneering, "You sure it's healthy the way you cling to him?"
"What was that?" You asked, slowly turning to face her.
"You're so clingy, it's actually concerning! David, Kyle, Bethany, Darlene, Casey, and Tom all agree with me, and not to mention, your mother told us that's normal behavior for you two - which is just a red flag, sweetie. You're lucky, though, 'cause when I was your age, my mama would've slapped me silly if I hung all over my boyfriend like that in front of her. You know it's distasteful, right, honey? Men don't like that - they don't want girls who are desperate for love that they claw onto them."
"I'm not clawing - "
"Whatever you're doing, sweetie," she mocked, "it's not a good look. I can smell your desperation - you do know, there's gonna be more boys later. This Eddie guy? He's not your end all, be all. First loves are fun, sure, but this is where you make your mistakes - so, take notes and then try not to do the same shit with your next man. Okay, pumpkin?" She patted your upper arm as if a child winning a sports participation trophy. "The kid is nice and all, but he's not gonna last, honey. Women in our family are prizes, you see, so, it takes a real stud to earn us - not some long-haired, tattooed punk. Don't embarrass this family anymore than you already have by thinking this is a sustainable relationship."
You slapped her hand away and stepped into her space, snarling, "You wanna try that again?"
Eddie glanced over and saw the two of you; needing a double take when he realized how tense the exchange looked. "Shit," he whispered, sitting up in attention while nudging Steve.
"Huh?" Eddie pointed, Steve turned, and after a beat, repeated, "Shit."
Rebecca stuttered and tried to explain, "I-I-I'm just saying - "
"Sounds like you're making pretty snap judgements about the man I love - based on what? His fucking appearance? Do you fucking hear yourself? Like, you're reprimanding me for dating when you're not even my parent. You need to take several steps back into your lane."
"I'm not reprimanding you for dating! Just for... For..."
"For dating Eddie?"
"For being so dangerously desperate!" She snapped. "Jesus, a kid like that? You don't have to cling too hard, he's lucky to just breathe your air! So, maybe loosen the reins, babe, it's not a good look to keep a man so... Beneath you so close and so tight."
Eddie launched from his chair in time to hear you laugh in response. "Yeah? Yeah? This comin' from the woman whose husband cheats on her more than he remembers their anniversary or her birthday? Is that what you mean by desperate?" You narrowed your eyes, "You're right - that is a real bad look. I mean, I've had years to watch you and decide, that's not what love is. That's not respect. Wow. Being desperate for love really is embarrassing, isn't it? Thanks for the advice, Auntie, but don't worry - first place for worst relationship is still steadfast yours. I mean, Eddie and I are actually compatible, you know? He and I actually like one another, mutually love another. Now, I know you're not used to that, so I guess I can excuse you mistaking 'love' for 'desperation' and being 'clingy' - "
"Baby, hey, hey, hey," Eddie caught you around the waist and pulled you back a few steps. "All good, it's all good - don't gotta argue, c'mon. Walk away, just walk away, c'mon, come with me." You scoffed in amusement while Rebecca looked close to tears, Eddie directing you in the opposite direction to force space. "What the hell was all that?" He asked in worry, arm slung around your neck as he checked over your shoulders to make sure you weren't being followed.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
"Didn't seem like it. C'mon, baby, what happened? Talk to me."
"When my family drinks, you know, they can just get a little mouthy."
"What'd she say?"
Insecurity exploded in your chest, freezing your tongue and heart, pumping icy shards through your body. You didn't want to worry nor upset Eddie by being honest, so you sighed, "Oh, just some dumb shit. She honestly sounded jealous... And bitter..."
"Ah, Uncle Paulie isn't giving it to her, huh?" He teased and you laughed, if only to not tip him off to the brewing storm of emotions threatening to take over.
"Guess not. Hey, uh," you glanced around, "you wanna get outta here?"
"What?" Eddie chuckled, "Baby, no, nah, c'mon, night's just starting. Fire's finally lit, and look," he pointed, "Dustin's challenging Mike to corn hole. And... Is that...?"
"Max and Lucas playing... Pong?"
"Looks like," Eddie smirked. "Think we're bad influences, baby."
"They're not even drinking - how much of an influence can we really be? Do they even pay attention, learn from us?" You teased, arms crossing across your chest in a light hold as Eddie tugged you a fraction closer to place a kiss on your temple. "Well, can we go back to the van and smoke? I left your hoodie in there and it's getting kinda chilly."
"Oh, you left it, huh?"
"Since I was the last in it? Yep."
Eddie chuckled and kept you under his arm all the way to his van, opening the backdoors and letting you climb in first. He shut the doors after himself and instantly rocked onto his back; you mimicking his position.
You both just stared at the ceiling for a moment; breathing together; existing as one. Then his head turned, yours did the same, meeting each other's eyes and without a single word exchanged, let your lips spread in matching smiles. Like two charged magnets, you both leaned in at the same time to let your lips meet in a sloppy meshing; playful, heated, and quick-tempo'd.
When Eddie pulled back, he whispered, "I love you."
After returning the sentiment, you both sat up to rest against the metal van walls and Eddie reached over to snag the wee box he used to store (some) of his drugs in. You breathed a sigh of relief while watching him, engaged in a new and distracting conversation - grateful he seemingly forgot about Aunt Rebecca's bullshit already.
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Yet those words seemed to haunt you.
It's been about two weeks since the Reunion and you felt as if you were slowly losing whatever was left of your mind. School had officially started and with all your AP classes, you were already juggling several assignments.
Everywhere you went, everything you did - you second guessed the amount of energy, effort, and diligence you put forth into everything! School! Friends! Family! And you know who suffered the most? Eddie - of course he did! He was closest to you, of course he was on the frontlines; enduring some kind of silent attack.
You didn't know what to do - so, you did nothing! You avoided Eddie because you were afraid of being ridiculed like a bug under a microscope in biology class. It seemed reasonable; not wanting to dig a deeper grave, not wanting to give further room for judgmental assholes to feel comfortable enough to voice their opinions. It drove you insane, living in silence, in this empty space; going from joined at the hip to severed Siamese Twins.
"Hey," your mother perked up when you came through the front door, "what're you doing home?"
"Uh, I live here?"
She sat up from her lounging position, "No, I meant, it's Thursday - isn't Thursday date night with Eddie? You didn't go last week."
"Oh, uh, no, not this week, Ma, I've got this crazy essay I'm swamped with."
"Hm," she nodded slowly.
"What?"
"Hmm? No, no, nothing, it's nothing," she waved you off, and just before you could take a step, she continued, "it's just - last week, you said you had some big test to study for. And now you're blowing him off for an essay? Honey, school just started, you shouldn't be this stressed and upset so soon."
"What can I say, Ma? I'm not blowing him off, I'm focusing on school. You know, the thing you love yelling at me to do?"
"I'm happy you're buckled down, sweetie, I'm just not used to you being here so often. You know? Since you started dating Eddie, I feel like you're only really home some weekdays, and sometimes, I don't even see you! Now, you've been home and I'm just worried something might be, I don't know, wrong."
"The only thing wrong, Ma, is the amount of work I have to do."
She sighed and nodded, offering a tight-lipped smile; finally allowing you to make your escape. First, you stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water and bag of trail mix, then, you made your way to your room; throwing your windows open, turning your stereo on a low volume, settling at your desk, and rolling a joint - but setting it aside for now. You unpacked your supplies, cracked your knuckles, and got to work handwriting ten pages on The Lord of the Flies.
There came a knock at your door, eyes cutting to your clock and noting you'd been working about an hour. Waving smoke from the freshly lit joint away your face, you plucked it from your lips, inhaled sharply, and called, "C'min!"
Eddie slipped in your room.
"What're you doing here?" You asked in shock, tilting your head back when he stood over you and accepting his kiss. The ends of his hair tickled your face from where he dangled himself over you.
"It's date night."
"Yeah, but I told you I had work, baby," you pouted at him, watching him set the paper bag he brought in front of you and taking the joint from your stalled hand.
"Mhm," he agreed while taking his pull, holding smoke in his lungs and still speaking, "which is why I brought it to you."
"Oh, yeah?" You chuckled, opening the bag and revealing your usual burger and fries order. "Eddie - "
"Eh?" He grinned, producing a milkshake from behind his back, "Ta-daaaa!"
"Oh, a man after my own heart!" You laughed, "You're literally perfect - thank you. This is really sweet."
He smirked and sat in the plush chair you left beside your desk just for him. "All right," he reached out to pick up the essay prompt as you ate a fry, "let's see here, uh... Lord of the Flies?"
"Yeah, it's about - "
"No, no, I know," he nodded, "I read it."
"You did?"
"Why do you sound so surprised?"
"I thought you didn't read anything except your D&D manual and Hard Rock Magazine?"
"Oh, ha-ha, don't forget Playboy," he mocked, you smirking. "All right, well, let's get crackin'."
"What?" You asked, watching him toss aside the paper prompt and pick up the novel.
"I'm helping you," he shrugged like it was common knowledge.
"You? You're gonna help me write this essay?" You laughed, handing him the half-eaten fry - which he accepted into his mouth without hesitation.
"Why is that funny?"
"You don't even do your own homework, baby!"
"Yeah, well, figured I'd help if it'll get done faster, you've been acting real funny."
"How?"
Eddie pinned you with a harsh look, "You've been distant."
You froze, knowing you're caught, but still responded, "Uh, no?"
"Uh, yes? Since the Reunion, I've barely seen you. And even when I do, it's at school. You don't come over, you don't invite me over, you canceled our date last week, tried to today, too. Baby, look, if something's wrong, you gotta tell me 'cause I can't fix shit if I don't know what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong - "
"Try again."
"Eddie."
"Are you serious right now?" He asked, his voice no longer light and lithe, playful nor silly. "You might have yourself convinced, princess, but I know you better than that. Something's up, something's wrong. Talk to me, please."
"Why does something have to be wrong? Why can't I just be, like, tired or stressed? Or both?" You avoided his eyes, taking the joint from him.
"If you really want me to believe that, answer when you started smoking with homework?" This made you pause, shrugging in embarrassment. Eddie scoffed gently, "Lemme guess? You're just stressed?"
"It's not a lie!"
"But you're not telling me the full truth!" He leaned forward in his seat, reaching for your hand, frowning deeply. "Baby, I just want to help you. Since the Reunion, you've been distant, and I think it's to do with whatever your aunt said."
Tears filled your eyes, mutely taking another long inhale; gently ashing the joint in the tray on your desk hosting several stubbed-out filters. Swallowing the saliva that had pooled in your mouth harshly, you coughed gently upon exhaling the smoke; tears pooling and slowly cascading down your cheeks. Eddie sat closer in worry - literally sitting in a balancing act on the edge of his seat.
"You're right," you squeaked, unable to look at him; fingers beginning to shake. "Y-You're right, and I'm sorry, I just - I didn't know what to do, how to feel - "
"That's why you gotta talk to me, baby, so we can figure shit out together. Right? I help you, you help me," he spoke gently, reaching out to caress the back of your head. He sighed, standing, ushering, "C'mere, c'mon, stand up for me. C'mere."
He lead you to your bed, letting you sit as he toed out of his shoes before joining you. He settled on his back and pulled you in tight to his side; your arms like a vice around his waist, resting on his chest that was dampening from your tears. He rubbed your back and shoulders, up to your head, down to your waist and hip. Eddie spoke softly, encouraging you to talk when ready.
"She scolded me, I guess," you whispered, "because according to her, several other family members think I'm too clingy."
"She said what!?"
"Eddie," you groaned, his voice loud under your ear.
"Sorry, sorry - I just - she said you were too clingy? What? Seriously? Like - Like with me?"
"Yeah. Said it wasn't a good look," you admitted, and then, Eddie just remained silent as you poured your heart out and admitted all that was said. It felt like a never ending cycle; confessing that you loved Eddie so effortlessly, you didn't think you were loving him 'wrong', but your Aunt Rebecca's words made you second guess your own emotions.
And it honestly angered Eddie. No, not (only) about you being upset - but the reason for you being upset. He wished he knew the night it happened, remembering hearing your response to Rebecca, understanding your words now. He wished he knew, he would've had a word or two for your aunt; angry that this woman successfully made you doubt yourself. Doubt the way you love Eddie.
"Hey," Eddie whispered, hand on your jaw to gently encourage your head up so your eyes met his. "Don't do this."
"Do what?"
"Pull away from me. Try to change, doubt yourself, do different. Baby, I love you - and no, you're not fucking clingy. And even if you are, I love it because I love you, and that means loving all of you, exactly the way you are. Fuck your aunt, fuck anyone who had something to say, their jealousy and bitterness and ineptitude are their problem, not ours. And anyone who makes it our issue can get bent." You were honestly shocked into silence, just staring up at Eddie in a daze of wonder. "What?" He asked.
"I'm just processing you using 'ineptitude' correctly," you teased in a whisper.
"Oh, you little - " He laughed, rolling onto you; fingers digging into your flesh and wiggling. Your laughter was loud and genuine, Eddie grinning in amusement before just staring down at you; gently petting hair off your forehead. "Listen to me. Hey? You listenin'?"
"Yes, Eddie," you chuckled.
"Don't ever pull away from me," he told you sternly. "I need you close to me, always. I don't care what anyone ever thinks or says - you're not a bother, not to me, never to me, so, please, for my sake, stay close. I'll fuckin' fall apart without you."
Overwhelmed by emotion, his sweet words, and how they instantly settled your anxiety, you didn't respond verbally. Your hand shot up to hook around the back of his neck and pull him down - but it's not like he resisted. Eddie let his mouth descend onto yours in a heated display of passion, his hips involuntarily rolling forward to roll his hips so his bulge ground into your clothed cunt. His tongue was hot, wet, sliding against yours in a raunchy pace that made your head spin until you were dizzy.
And in exactly 436 days, Aunt Rebecca, Cousin Darlene, and any other outspoken family members sat at home, bitter, while the rest of you (and the town) celebrated yours and Eddie's union of Holy Matrimony.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Stranger Things masterlist
Clingy Baby collection masterlist
264 notes · View notes
verxca · 26 days
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IMAGINE 06 ⟡
➤ hashira as your s/o
includes ; sanemi, kyojuro, giyu ⋆ ˚。
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⟡ sanemi treats you, and only you, with an unseen kindness. you’re like a holy grail to the man— he couldn’t even imagine laying a finger upon you. though the others don’t believe it at first when you assure them how kind of a person the hashira really is, you soon take pride in the fact he’s comfortable enough around you to show his nature.
- you’re an angel, hun’
⟡ he isn’t huuuge on pet names ( would never call you one in front of the others, though in private, he’s a different man ) or words of affirmation in general. you usually spend your time with sanemi in a comfortable silence, wether that be cuddling in bed together, cooking, or doing mundane tasks by his side.
⟡ he hates arguing with you, even if they’re bound to come up every now and then. sanemi can’t help but get emotional at how patient you are with him afterwards, even during the fights themselves. it takes him awhile to apologize, though it’s always worth it in the end. once, you two headed to bed after a heated argument, and he still just couldn’t resist from pulling you closer.
- are you not mad anymore, sanemi…?
- just keep quiet’ so we can sleep.
⟡ sanmei really cherishes any time spent with you, but for dates specifically, he prefers staying in more secluded areas. though he won’t admit it— due to his jealousy, he truly just wants you all to himself, non the less during such an intimate activity. for example, he adores taking you out on picnics for lunch or dinner. you two pick a new spot every time, and enjoy a nice meal together.
⟡ he loves loves taking baths with you after his training, either back at the estate or your own. he’ll hold you against his chest in the water, lathering your neck with kisses. sanemi’s fingers work magic at scrubbing your hair, and he often offers to give you massages on your back, feet, etc.
- fuck, you’re perfect…
- yeah? feel nice?
⟡ literally anytime he speaks about you, even if it’s just casually dropping your name in a conversation, a noticeable blush appears on sanemi’s face. sometimes he even gets fixated on the moment for a second too long.
- yeah, i was out with {name} yesterday-
- i was cooking her dinner, when he shows up… and… uhm, yeah, yeah, he showed up at the door-
⟡ in all, he’s a great lover. anyone with two eyes could tell how much he truly cares about you. sanemi’s also very keen on protecting you, and would risk his life to save yours in the bat of an eye. but then again, he takes pride in his strength, and the fact that he has the tools necessary to keep you safe.
- i’d die for you, babe, seriously.
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⟡ despite the vibrant nature of kyojuro, he is extremely patient and tender towards you. he’s just so respectful, it drives you mad in the best possible way. and in his eyes, you are just so perfect— any person would be rude to not treat you with regard.
- you’re so strong, you need to give yourself more confidence, {name}!
- she’s just so perfect, isn’t she?
⟡ his love langues most definitely revolve around physical touch and words of affirmation. kyojuro feels almost guilty if he sees you and doesn’t have the chance to throw at least some sort of compliment in your general direction.
- you look lovely today, {name}!
- your hair is stunning! is that a new pin?
⟡ he’s just so fun to be around! half of the time for dates, it’s just you two hanging out with each-other. that could hence mean watching the sunrise, eating a meal, or braiding each-other’s hair. trust me, it never gets boring.
⟡ yet, he also has such a sweet and collected side to him that he often shows you. laying in bed, holding hands, he’s still in awe at love as a whole.
- i love you, {name}, so much.
⟡ i feel like the whole fandom can agree that this man is your personal heater— i’ve seen it so many times, you can’t convince me that he wouldn’t be a fucking god at spooning you. during the more chilly seasons, half your days are spent cuddled up together. he loves listening to your heartbeat, running his hands down your skin, perplexed every second of the day by your beauty.
⟡ sometimes kyojuro doesn’t realize how flustered he can make you— during training when he’s all sweaty, out in public when he squeezes your hand tightly, etc. it took him awhile to realize practically just how much power he held, pridefully enjoying teasing you even more.
- you seem awfully flustered, honey?
⟡ kyojuro is simply put a walking green flag. he’ll go out of his way to make sure life is easier for you in general, and is still truly bewildered at how gorgeous you are, and at how you in return make him feel so loved.
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⟡ it definitely took giyu awhile to warm up around you, though after finally opening up about his past— you could see him through a different lense. it was like a weight had been lifted off from his shoulders, and the world wasn’t as black and white around you. the hashira became way more comfortable— felt more at ease by your side.
- why are you so kind to me?
⟡ giyu loves having gentle conversations. he adores getting to learn more about you, watching you speak, listening to your voice, etc. and, when you hear him out in return, his heart breaks at the simple kindness.
- no, no, go on, i’m listening.
⟡ honestly, doesn’t have a preference for dates at all! he could have a calm, quiet night with you, soaking in the hotspring. he could take you to a nearby lake, where you’d admire the shimmering water. or, of course, you could visit a restaurant together, soaking up the busy atmosphere.
⟡ giyu loves buying you random trinkets. it can range from a beautiful bracelet, to a small antique plate he picked up— all to further prove his love through gentle reminders.
- here, i found it near that village yesterday. the flowers reminded me of you, i had to grab it.
- it looks beautiful on you.
⟡ giyu loves staying close in general. after missions— he’s hugging and cuddling you like you’re his last drop of water in a sanded desert. in bed— big spoon or not, he simply needs to feel that intimate contact. it doesn’t fail to make the both of you feel safe and comforted every time.
- you’re so warm, {name}…
⟡ again, with the contact, giyu oddly loves when you tend to his wounds. the way you wrap the bandages around his knuckles is so tender, he can’t express it. ( once, he burned himself while cooking lunch on accident while nearby just so you could bandage it )
- you’re too sweet, love… thank you.
⟡ in general, giyu appreciates you more than he ever thought he would. he finds your gentless very attractive, and you did really intern help him open up— help him love again. he could go on for hours just admiring your form, listening to you speak— your voice alone soothes him to sleep often times.
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333 notes · View notes
wordsinhaled · 1 year
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frankly i am SO tired of how fandom keeps trying to “gotcha” neil gaiman into dropping a homophobic/acephobic/queerphobic take when he is not any of those things and clearly created these characters to transcend that kind of quibbling (aka in the truest sense of queerness which is an abolishing of all restrictive bullshit). on top of that i can’t even count how often he has told people on like a million separate occasions to have some nuance and that fandom has carte blanche to see themselves canonically represented in his characters. it must be fucking exhausting to log onto this platform every day (when he could be literally anywhere else doing anything else) and to constantly be met with highly leading questions when he’s been writing canon queerness since before some of these keyboard warriors were even born. it’s exhausting as a FAN to see someone who clearly acts with genuine love, compassion, and seemingly limitless patience for the community in mind in his every interaction be dragged through the mud on the daily. it’s as though people can’t wrap their mind around the fact that he has been acting in allyship for literal decades. there were background trans and nonbinary characters in the show. david tennant has a nonbinary kid and wears a nonbinary flag pin literally everywhere he goes. michael sheen almost pursued a career in drag. these are not enemies to our community? these are our allies and people keep insisting on the daily on willfully reading bigotry into their actions. the fact of the matter is crowley and aziraphale can fuck nasty in your fanfiction or they can never touch each other in their entire immortal lives and neil gaiman will be out picketing for your inalienable right to freely represent both as well as anything else along that spectrum, while y’all line up to leave inane accusatory shit in his ask box. he’s a veteran of fielding hate mail from fundie groups that threatened the very existence of the type of representation you accuse him of not offering and staunchly stood by continuing to include it. it would be nice if that hate mail didn’t come from the group he’s actively catering to. ffs, it’s EMBARRASSING.
968 notes · View notes
seuonji · 1 year
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彡 are they dating? —times your relationship was almost revealed / time you both got caught.
๑ idol!svt x idol!yn secret relationship series! no storyline, just fun.
—yn is a hybe artist!!
★my bestie that proofreads my writings gave me the wonwoo scenario <333
one ๑ two ๑ three ๑ four ๑ five ๑ six ๑ seven #mlist
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laying down with jun/soonyoung/seokmin/mingyu on his bed and taking selfies using instagram for the filters until he drops his phone and accidentally clicks on the add to story button— you both screamed until one of you deletes it or turned off the wifi so it wouldn’t post but you guys knew how persistent your fans were, you didn’t know if deleting it was good enough. he would probably say, “should i just delete my account?”
when your group won an award at an award show, during your comment the camera briefly pointed at jeonghan/wonwoo/jihoon’s face which showed his sweetest and softest smile. that picture went viral the next hour. anon: “i want someone to look at me the way he looked at yn when they won an award.” / “he wouldn’t just look at them like that for no reason they have to know each other more deeply right!?.”
passing by the seventeen practice room where seungcheol/jeonghan/minghao’s was practicing alone. he recognises your figure even though the door was translucent. he practically ran outside and looked if they coast was clear before giving you a hug. little did you guys know the one or some of your fellow hybe artists from another group was walking around that floor— they instantly said they wouldn’t tell anyone but would also be in shock and would take awhile to process what they just saw.
after an afternoon of hanging with joshua during your short break in one of the rooms in the building, you had a schedule to go live when you got back to your designated room. you soon left and looked in the mirror to make sure everything was okay and you met up with the staff then went live. you enjoyed reading the comments and answered some until you saw a specific comment. anon: yn! your necklace is so cute! where did you get it?
you mentally froze for 3 seconds and looked at yourself in the screen. you touched your neck and saw that you were wearing the necklace joshua gave you literally 30 minutes ago. you nervously laughed and said that you recently got into the activity of making jewellery and that you were testing its durability. “do you guys want one?” you smiled at your viewers. you got comments that were constantly mentioning joshua— anon: “you’re like joshua!” // “joshua from svt also makes them!!“ — but the really annoying ones would tell you you’re copying him.
during a live, a fan pointed out that wonwoo was wearing more jewellery recently. “sort of, but it’s mostly rings,” wonwoo says as he placed the back of his hand infront of the screen to showcase his rings. later on in the live he started giving the origins of each ring, “this was from a recent trip, this one is from mingyu…”
he got to a simple silver ring and he held back a grin, “this one is a typical ring but i like it a lot.” he showed the rings once again. he faced his palm to the camera but realised, on the simple silver ring, your name was engraved onto it and it was legible. he mostly had it turned inwards for reasons like this tho. he quickly took his hand away from the camera and read other comments to change the topic— the fandom became super curious, they noticed there was some writing on the ring. it was the same curiousity as to when scoups was revealed to have a tattoo.
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