#his battle is really not that bad; it's the music that gets me

[nacrelysis]

you've heard of the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny, now get ready for monoceros caeli: ultimate smackdown of ultimate proportions

[wormy-worm]

ok u know what maybe if the world isn't ready for sunrazer post that means that the world IS ready for Amoveous siblings post. This is Milo and Enho and theyre my DARLINGS and i love them SO MUCH. i have. SOOOOOOOO many thoughts abt them but after the previous post massacre i do not really feel like typing all of that xoxo love <3

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

A post in honor of General Jarod Fire Emblem my precious.

[mariasont]

maria, i have an ideaaa!!

bimbo!assistant!reader goes on a date with a really shitty guy. and she sneaks away to the back door and calls hotch in the alley to come and save her (it’s also raining). she’s all wet and her makeup’s all ruined when hotch comes.

he then takes her back to his place and takes care of her… and… mushy soft fluffiness happens… and maybe feelings are confessed… and maybe a kiss or 2 happens…🥰💖

TALK ABOUT A BAD DATE - A.H

a/n: genius, genius, you are an absolute genius!!!!!!!!!!! this was probably my fav bimbo!reader fic to write <3 thank you sm for requesting

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: um the rain takes out reader's shirt, so she does kinda flash him for a hot sec, hotch also blatantly checks out her ass, cuties being sickeningly cute, cuties kiss in 4k

wc: 2k

A perfect, flawless, stunning, never-been-done before outfit wasted on a loser of a guy. Your makeup had taken an hour alone, your hair—well, you didn't even want to think about it because you were certain you were starting to break out in hives.

You steadied yourself against the brick wall, the uneven asphalt beneath your heels threatening to take you down as you fished your phone from the depths of your purse.

You dialed the first number you could think of--Hotch's. His was also the only one you had memorized. The battery icon flashed a warning of five percent as you hunched beneath the alleyway's awning, trying to shield yourself from the rain. You desperately hoped he'd pick up.

There was frankly no plan B if he didn't. Go back inside and ask you so-called date for a ride? That was not an option. The moment he pulled up in one of those big trucks, with its deafening music and roaring engine, you regretted not driving yourself. After all, you were well aware what men were compensating for with a big truck.

"Hotchner."

His voice was gruff, the sound slightly distorted by the speaker. You imagined he had just walked through his door, despite the time being eight o'clock on a Friday night. He was presumably preparing to pour his routine glass of scotch.

"Sir, it's me," you said, attempting to ignore the relentless raindrops assaulting your makeup--a battle they seemed intent on winning. Clearly, the concept of setting spray was foreign to them. "Can I ask you for a favor? If you say yes, I pinky promise I'll stop rearranging your desk. I know you have a system, but it just looks so bland sometimes."

"I'm going to overlook that desk comment," he stated, his sigh audible through the phone. You could picture the pensive frown that came with it. "What do you need?"

You drew your lips into a tight line, looking down to watch the rain mock the effort you had put into your outfit.

"Can you come pick me up? Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"Pick you up? From where? Are you okay?"

You shivered slightly, your free hand instinctively rubbing warmth into your arm. You should've brought a jacket. The thought of sharing this evening's failings with your boss did not sound appealing, so you avoided most of his questions.

"I'll text you the location, okay?"

"Okay, yes, I'll be there. Just stay put."

You thanked him and followed that by a double promise to stay put (he didn't believe you the first time). You also told him you'd wait inside, which was less than truthful. The thought of getting drenched was far more attractive than the prospect of bumping in that women-hating boy again.

You didn't have to wait long, thankfully, spotting Hotch's car turn into the alley, the headlights flaring up like spotlights against your face. You used a manicured hand to shield your eyes, narrowing them against the glare. The distinct sound of a door opening and closing signaled his arrival, and soon, Hotch was striding towards you.

"Christ, get in the car," Hotch insisted, more a command than a suggestion.

He was by your side in an instant, his arm on yours as he opened your door and helped you in. Then, unexpectedly, he reached over you to fasten the seatbelt. You giggled, his hand pausing just above your thigh.

"What?"

The rain gently streamed over his perfect skin, his hair now saturated and plastered to his brow, his blue dress shirt bearing the brunt of the downpour.

"You don't trust me to buckle my own seatbelt?"

"I don't trust you with a lot of things." Completely false. "For instance, your choice of men." Completely true.

He clicked the seatbelt into place and swung the door shut, cutting off any chance of a response, then moved around the car to the driver's side.

You can't help but pout, even as your eyes traced the line of his jaw. "How'd you know?"

Any trace of annoyance vanished as quickly as it came as he placed a hand behind you, giving you an even better view of his profile while he reversed the car. Your focus shifted to the ripple of muscles under his shirt.

"I'm trained to know when someone is in distress and you practically spelled it out. The restaurant, the clothes..." His voice tapered off, disguising his pause with a cough while his gaze flickered over your outfit, his cheeks tinged with a fleck of red. "I've got a spare sweatshirt in the back if you need it."

You traced his line of sight to your chest. Emitting a small squeak, you quickly shielded yourself with your arms, realizing that your white top had become completely see through.

"Totally not embarassing," you say, pursing your lips as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

"It's fine," Hotch insists, but you don't miss how his eyes are now careful not to drift from the road. "Put your seatbelt back on."

"I can't reach the sweatshirt."

You shift to face the back, knees planted on your seat as you lean over to grab just the thing you were looking for. In the rearview mirror you catch the brief moment his eyes do stray, discreetly (or so he thought) sweeping over your ass.

A self-satisfied smile crept across you face as you slid back into your seat, slipping on the sweatshirt. It smelled like him—an intoxicating blend of aged leather and pine. You liked it. A lot.

"So do you wanna talk about it?"

You really didn't. With a sigh, you dug through your purse for your lip gloss. Flipping down the passenger mirror, you froze, confronting your reflection.

"Hotch, didn't you think to mention my face is all... smudgy?"

Your mascara (and setting spray) had betrayed you, leaving dark trails down your cheeks and a slightly unhinged look.

"Your face is perfect," Hotch remarks dryly, like he was tired of you, he undoubtedly was. You were a handful after all. "Why are you avoiding my question?"

You let out a delighted gasp.

"Did you just say my face is perfect?" Leaning over the console, you tap his nose with your finger. "You're just the sweetest."

The look Hotch gives you is flat, expectant as if he knows just what you were trying to do.

"Okay, okay, fine, it was just a terrible date. Like, Hotch, I'm talking disaster-level bad. He made fun of my job, ate like a toddler, and his truck? He wouldn't shut up about it." Your hands are now shuffling through the contents of your purse in a panic. "And now, I can't find my keys."

"Your house keys?"

A breath of frustration flows from you, fingers pulling through your hair as you nod. "Dang it."

You felt a slight unraveling in your usual poise, and the panicking that came with it. Hotch's hand landed on your shoulder, his thumb grazing across your collarbone.

"Hey, it's fine. It's late, and you're upset. You can stay at my place tonight, I'll crash on the couch, and we'll find your keys in the morning."

He made everything seem so simple.

"I'm not upset," you insist, lips pursing as you angle your body just enough to feel his touch more fully.

His hands felt right on you.

He chuckled quietly, his thumb tracing a path from your shoulder to brush away the solitary tear beneath your eye that you hadn't noticed before.

"Must be a raindrop," you shrug. Hotch's soft laugh tells you he doesn't quite buy it. "Are you sure you don't mind me staying over?"

"I'm certain."

"Okay."

"So why did your date make fun of your job?"

"Because," you start, your fingertip lazily sketching doodles on the misted car window, "when I was telling him about being an assistant and working for you, he implied that the only reason you hired me was so you had something pretty to look at."

"Well, he's not entirely wrong."

You let out a surprised giggle. "Hotch!"

You reach over the console, pinching his arm which he just laughed off, pulling into what you assumed was his driveway. You had never been to his house. It was nice. Really nice, the kind you'd find in movies—not imposing, but inviting, with its brick walls and stout brown pillars framing the porch.

You were even more surprised when you entered the house. The image you had of Hotch's house one of meticulous order, a place where you could hear the tick of a clock from rooms away. But this... this was a home. There were throw blankets casually draped over the couch, books overflowing, armchairs worn in just the right places.

You lean down, intent on stripping off the torturous heels, but a wobble has you teetering. Hotch is quick to step in.

"Here," he offers, lifting each foot in turn to his knee, skillfully undoing the straps and easing them off you.

Standing flat-footed, you suddenly feel much shorter, and you wonder if Hotch has ever seen you without them.

You look up at him, smiling cheekily. "My very own prince charming."

He ignored you and moved through the living room. "Do you want a pair of sweatpants?"

"Sharing clothes now, are we? I bet there's a clause against this in the employee handbook."

Hotch raises an eyebrow, "I don't think I need to remind you of the numerous times I've overlooked your creative interpretations of the handbook rules."

"So you're admitting to showing me favoritism?"

You plucked the sweatpants from his hands, not giving him an option to respond as you shuttled yourself into his bathroom. You changed quickly, trading your sopping wet clothes for Hotch's dry, warm ones.

You reentered the living room to find Hotch reclining on the couch with an ease that was new to your eyes. He, too, had slipped into something more comfortable—sweats and a form fitting grey long sleeve that threatened to distract you completely.

You dropped your purse onto the coffee table and settled next to him, maybe a little closer than you should have.

He let out a sound that was more a breath than a laugh, a sound that all the same made your heart flutter unexpectedly. "You've still got some, uh, makeup under your eyes."

He reached up to wipe it away with his thumb.

"It won't come off that way," you said, grabbing his wrist with a soft smile. "I have makeup wipes in my purse."

But he didn't hand you your bag like you would've thought, instead he dug through it, pulling out the wipes and starting to dab at your face. The softness of his touch felt disarmingly intimate, so gentle it coaxed your eyes to flutter more slowly, eyelids becoming more heavy.

Your head tilted downward and Hotch used his free hand to tilt it back up. "Stay still, or I'm going to poke your eye out."

"You're making me sleepy," you murmur, your voice a soft, drowsy hum, but then he moved the wipe to your lips and suddenly you were anything but.

He was even more gentle with your lips, if that was possible, wiping away the gloss like you were made of glass.

Your eyes snapped open, and you found yourself gazing into his warm, brown-sugared eyes, your heart thundering in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. How did you get so close? You weren't sure, but he was there, noses almost touching.

He pulled away the wipe, using his thumb to clean up left over gloss though you were sure there wasn't any. His hand paused there, resting on your lower lip like it was meant to be there. You felt every fiber of your being stand on high alert. You wondered what he was thinking.

Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him?

"Are you going to kiss me?" You asked, half-hopeful, half-daring, giving a microphone to your inner monologue.

He took a moment, eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes then back down again. "Yes."

It was certain. Like there was no doubt about it, but he didn't move.

"Okay, I'm ready," you breathed out, pulse roaring in your ears.

Hotch's laughter was a low and warm sound. You had heard it a lot tonight.

"You kill me," he said, and it wasn't patronizing—it was affectionate and genuine, and it made your whole body turn to mush.

Then his lips were on yours, and you were both laughing, the sound muffled by lips. It was tentative at first but it quickly morphed into something sweet and soft and perfect.

"Aren't you glad my date went terribly?" you mumbled into his soft skin.

"Devastatingly glad."

One thing was clear—Hotch was not going to end up sleeping on the couch tonight.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @averyhotchner @everythinglizzy @sky2nd

join my taglist here!

[keferon]

At the off chance I haven't gotten flagged as a robot again for hanging out in the void for too long-

A lil' drabble for your Mecha Pilot AU!

I bummed myself out thinking about a clueless Prowl and his bacteria boyfriend's enevetable, fast aproaching demise. So to cope, I came up with a possible lil' "solution" for the whole 'shortass teeny-tiny lifespan' situation all mecha pilots got going on!

So Vortex is haunted, right? Ghosts are a thing here. And the pilots own wellbeing automatically goes to the backburner when piloting their mecha, just no awareness of their own body whatsoever.

SO WHAT IF, after a grand'ol time of being lost in space with a bunch of aliens and aiding the local community, Jazz tries to disconnect from his mech for a bit only to find he can't, the other end of the line is completely silent.

At some point during the venture, maybe in a battle or because of some technical issue he wasn't privy to (or just flatout ignored), his vitals flatlined and he had absolutly no idea. He could have been rotting in there for weeks and he didn't notice. Not sure how he'd handle that revelation to be honest. But hey! at least he won't have to worry about mortality anymore! :D

(I really need better coping mechanisms)

…………….YOUR BRAIN ANON

Alright alright. HEAR ME OUT.

Do you remember how we were talking about sparks being radioactive?? What if instead of some kind of wound it’s radiation that kills Jazz? Or. Well. To be more precise not radiation but spark energy.

Just imagine. The final battle against Shockwave and/or Quintessons. The stakes are high the music is epic and everyone has to work together to survive. And after the glorious but tough win Jazz can finally stop and take a breath.

Except. He really can’t.

Because he was so focused on piloting. So focused on “being” his mech that he didn’t feel his own body getting weaker and weaker. And now he starts to slip into panic because his human body isn’t just dead it has been dead for a while. Everyone around him is celebrating. All humans and Cybertronians are smiling and laughing in relief and checking if everyone is alive while he stands there completely frozen and on the verge of breaking the fuck up because he’s DEAD and how much time does he have? Why is he still there?? Is it because his brain isn’t completely dead yet?? Human brain can only last five minutes before it dies completely. Does he have only those pathetic minutes?

He would panic so fucking bad

We would also need him to get his mech back at some point for that. Or. Well. He could die while piloting Prowl but I think Prowl would notice instantly.

[betterthanyalls]

hi!

can i request for a hermes x gn!reader x odysseus? :)

i was thinking that maybe reader is already a friend of odysseus, like a childhood friend maybe or a neighbor/citizen of his kingdom and has known him for years

reader liked ody but ody already has penelope so they arent flirting anymore but when hermes shows up and starts taking readers attention for himself that's when ody starts to get a little jealous maybe? aaa sorry it has been a while since ive requested anything - i hope its not too specific ;v;

i just thought it would be fun to see witty banter battles and playful snark ^^"

I have spent my entire day throughout school and home to work on this so i am very sorry for any mistakes or if its bad, i was speed running before i eepy, also i tried to make reader x odysseus more platonic cus he got penelope yk? ALSO NGL THIS WAS VERY FUN TO WRITE HEHEHEH

Masterlist

Divine Intervention

Hermes x GN!Reader x Odysseus [p]

EPIC: The Musical ~ Oneshot ~ Fluff

Words: 2.1K

Published: 11-5-2024

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

A gentle puff of air blew through the vacant meadow, flowers brushing each other in a picturesque view. Within the center of the field, two souls lied together, laughing and gazing at the clouds with imagination. 

“That one reminds me of Argos,” Odysseus pointed up to a running puff of white above that loosely resembled said dog. “Oh, I see it!” Penelope grinned, her smile shining brighter than Helios. A short distance away, under the shade of a tree, sat the best friend of the couple. With their backs against the tree, Y/n watched on emotionlessly. Their mind felt blank; witnessing the source of their love showing admiration to somebody else delivered a new type of pain to their chest. Y/n felt lost. Would they never be the first choice? Odysseus had known them for the entirety of both their lives, but the moment he met Penelope, he forgot all about Y/n. He was head over heels, claiming he’d marry the princess before he turned twenty. Sure, they stayed friends, but that wasn’t enough for Y/n though they’d never admit it. Y/n couldn’t even blame Odysseus. Penelope looked like a goddess sent from Olympus. Anyone could mistake her for a divine being. 

With a silent sigh, Y/n prepared to push themself to their feet and take their leave. But a new presence stopped them from rising up. Looking to their left side, Y/n saw another figure sitting beside them. “Wow, really the third wheel, huh?” A cheery voice sounded from his mouth.

“Who are you?” Y/n asked, like any sane person would. “You mean you don’t recognize me? Your friend Ody would if you asked him,” the individual turned to face Y/n, giving them a good view of his identity. A metal helmet sat atop his head, adorned by smaller, brown, speckled wings. A mischievous grin was placed on his lips, with the rest of his face remaining covered by a shadow. Y/n leaned back slightly so the sun could pierce the shade better, revealing more of the man. A chiton made of the finest silk hung loosely from his shoulders, stopping at his knees. The male sat casually criss-crossed, his back propped against the same tree. A scepter sat on the ground beside him, holding two golden snakes and two glistening wings, power radiating off the item. Another point of interest for Y/n’s eyes were the sandals on his feet. Not in a footfetish type of interest, but intrigue with the fact wings fluttered like no big deal off the heels. Just as Y/n was going to breathe out his name, the guest spoke first. “Indeed, it is I, Hermes. God of messengers, travelers, luck, gambling, borders, animal husbandry, thieves, wit, speed, language, trades, commerce, athletes, merchants-”

The god continued rambling proudly about each of his domains as Y/n’s awe slowly fell into a deadpan. “I know you,” they cut off his boasting, not truly caring if it was rude. Thankfully, instead of being offended, the god merely grinned. “So, Y/n, what are you doing out here? Away from the party?” Hermes had a teasing tone in his voice, gesturing to the two lovers ahead of them. Odysseus and Penelope had no knowledge of a god offering company to their closest friend. Y/n wanted to ask how he knew their name, but they figured it was some divine power thing.

“Ody wanted to spend time with Penelope, but he was too nervous to come alone. So he dragged me along. But I don’t want to intrude on their moment together,” Y/n shrugged, looking at their friends.

The mischief god watched the mortal for a moment before a plan formed in his mind. “Well, I can’t let such a beautiful soul be alone, now can I?” Y/n turned to face Hermes, an amused yet confused smile on their lips. “I’m sorry?” They inquired, not sure if they understood his words correctly. In response, Hermes stood up and held his hand out to help the mortal up too. “If they have their moment together, then allow me to give you a moment for us.” The god had a gentle smile, keeping his hand out for them to grab. Raising an eyebrow, Y/n hesitantly took his offer and grabbed his hand. He pulled them up to stand beside him.

“So, where are we going?” Y/n asked, looking into the forest behind them. Hermes just laughed in excitement.

“You’ll see!”

And before Y/n could utter another word, the god pulled them close and took off racing through the trees. The world whipped past them at lightning speed. Trees, rocks, roads, towns—everything went by in a flash until suddenly it all paused.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n stepped away from the god. Their legs felt like brittle wood, threatening to give out at a simple breeze. Once they caught their breath, the mortal looked around to see them in the center stands of the nearby sports. Athletes were in the midst of competition down below, and nobody seemed to question two people just appearing. Hermes sat down on a stone slab and patted for Y/n to sit beside him. Doing so, the god offered them some grapes he may or may not have stolen from other mortals. “Did you choose this event just because you’re the god of athletes?” Y/n questioned  with a small laugh, taking a grape to eat and watching the sports continue. Hermes responded with his own laugh, beaming at the person beside him. “Would you leave if I said yes?” Y/n pretended to think for a moment before turning to face him with a hum. “No, but you better make this worth it,” they chuckled playfully, popping another grape to their mouth. ~~~~~ Hermes did truly make it worth it. So worth it that the two began going on adventures every day. From splashing around in rivers to exploring dark caves, the mortal and god’s friendship grew each day.

Anytime Y/n questioned themself in a mirror, Hermes would somehow maifest behind them to compliment their looks before going back to whatever job he had that day. “Dahling, you look gorgeous—beyond stunning, truly.” Was heard more than once

They would even find gifts sometimes, usually always stolen, waiting in their bedroom.

~~~~~

Currently, Y/n and the king of Ithaca were sitting in his bedroom, just talking like old friends. “So, you’ve been disappearing randomly only to come back in one state or another. Not to mention, you’ve been much more upbeat lately. What’s going on?” Odysseus interrogated with a grin. Y/n stayed quiet for a moment. Could they tell their lifelong friend about the new soul in their life? Odysseus had a raised brow, waiting for a response. “C’mon, you know you can tell me anything.” He offered with a calmer smile. Y/n’s expression softened, and they sighed, deciding to speak the truth. "I met someone,” they began, trying to form the correct words. Something in Odysseus’ eyes changed at this revelation. His posture stiffened just for a moment before returning to his previously relaxed state. “And who may this 'someone’ be?” The king continued, trying to get as much information as possible. With a quiet whisper, Y/n confessed. “Hermes...” Their lips held a bashful smile as they looked away from their friends' eyes. The friend in question paused, blinking slowly to process the information. “Hermes?! The god?!” He exclaimed with an open jaw. Y/n quickly shushed him, shoving their hands in his face. “Sh sh sh! Shut up! Not so loud,” they hissed, taking their hands away carefully once Odysseus nodded in agreement. “You know Hermes?” He continued to quiz. “Don’t you?” Y/n raised an eyebrow, thinking back to the first conversation with the god. Hermes said that Odysseus would know who he was.

“Well, yeah, I do. But I didn’t think you would too,” he tried to reason, although his point fell flat. “You don’t think a lot,” they retorted. Before Odysseus could try to fire back, a sudden breeze blew in from the open balcony. Looking over, a certain god stood against the stone railing with a familiar grin. “If it isn’t my two favorite mortals! If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d say I was the center of this discussion,” Hermes laughed, waltzing into the room. He ruffled Odysseus’ hair playfully before taking a stand next to Y/n.

“Hermes.” Odysseus brought a hand up to fix his hair. The god just laughed again, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s shoulder to give them a side hug. The narrowing eyes of the soldier didn’t go unnoticed by Hermes, brightening his smile.

“Hey Hermes,” Y/n greeted warmly.

Odysseus didn’t enjoy seeing his best friend so cozied up with another person. Even if that other person was a god who saved his life multiple times and also his great-grandfather. An idea began forming in his mind to get rid of the situation. “Y/n, I think I remember seeing a show taking place in the city. You and I can go see it now before it finishes,” the king offered, casting a victorious grin to Hermes as Y/n gave their own smile. “That sounds cool! Yeah, we can go!” Y/n moved away from Hermes' hug as the two mortals took their leave. Once they left, Hermes frowned and took his own leave back to his previous tasks for Olympus. ~~~~~ It didn’t take long for a secret war to begin. Every moment, Y/n was in between two opposing sides. They were either with Odysseus one day and Hermes the next, or they were sitting in between both males who kept trying to one-up each other, which would eventually end in arguments.

“I mean honestly, darling, why spend your time with such a brute when you could have someone as divine as I?” “BRUTE?!”

“Really, Y/n, he’s the god of lies. If anything, his words mean nothing compared to mine.” “Your entire reputation is a lie.” “Well, I guess it’s just you and me, Y/n—” “Oh, please. That’s more of a stress than a privilege.” “Did you hear something, dahling? Why, I can’t seem to hear anything below FIVE FEET.” “OH HOW MATURE—” “IT IS!!”

This took place almost daily, and it acted as peak entertainment for Y/n. ~~~~~ Today, unlike any other, Y/n and Odysseus sat quietly in a familiar meadow. However, the king was being unnaturally quiet. Turning to face their friend, Y/n spoke up.

“Ody, are you alright?” Concern was clear in their voice as they waited patiently. Odysseus didn’t make any notice of hearing their words for a minute before he finally answered.

“You’re replacing me.”

Those words caught Y/n off guard. Odysseus was looking at the grassy field around them rather than meeting his companions eyes.

“What? No, I’m not. What makes you say that?” They furrowed their eyebrows in worry, anxious for his reasoning.

“You spend more time with him,” he hissed, speaking of the god like venom on his tongue.

“Well, maybe, but-”

“BUT NOTHING! I’m supposed to be your best friend! Me! Not him. It’s us against the world; we agreed on that years ago.” Odysseus turned to Y/n with a deep frown, his eyes showing unease. He had been betrayed time and time again before; he couldn’t risk losing another friend.

Y/n stayed silent, stunned by his sudden outburst. Odysseus just looked back to the meadow, shame filling his soul. After a few moments, Y/n regained their bearings as sympathy and guilt covered their features.

“Ody,” they called softly, but he continued to look away. "Ody, look at me.”

Reluctantly, he looked over to his friend.

“Ody, I could never replace you. You are woven into my soul like a grapevine. Why do you think I would break our pact?” They spoke softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Odysseus sighed, looking back to the ground. He felt so stupid for assuming they would hurt him too.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled gently, looking at them out of the corner of his eyes.

“It’s alright; I would do the same if I were you. I forgive you,” Y/n smiled warmly to him, earning a hesitant smile back from him.

~~~~~

After this whole incident, Odysseus stopped arguing so much with Hermes. Sure, the mortal still gave the god a few half-hearted glares, but they eventually learned to share Y/n’s attention.

The trio sat calmly on the balcony of Odysseus’ room, waiting for Penelope to arrive for a nightly get-together. The sun sank slowly below the horizon, offering a charming glow to the city.

“So, darling, how’d you manage to get such a feral man to calm down?”

“FERAL?!”

[starlightguh]

The Sharpest Tongue

Word count: 2,822

Summary: What if the stone Sylus won hadn't been the right one to send him and MC home to Linkon? As MC struggles to learn the local language, she finds herself the subject of the other warriors in the clan. Too bad it seems like Sylus has the sharper tongue amongst them all.

Tags: Cunnilingus, Grasslands AU, Jealous!Sylus

A/N: This is a bit shorter than I had planned, but I wanted to write something for the grasslands AU and saw someone mention we needed more jealousy grassland stories, so here you go! 100% transparency, I could not find anything on Talanian language, so I used Mongolian words, I'm not familiar with the language so if there are mistakes, I apologize!! I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Find this fic on Ao3 as well!

The Khan had given Sylus the bright red stone for his victory in the battle against the best warriors in the clan. My worries weren’t for nothing as there wasn’t any trace of meta flux emanating from it. No matter how hard either of us tried, we couldn’t resonate with it.

So we were stuck in the grasslands.

For someone who should have been happy due to our victory, both me and Sylus held somber faces around the celebratory fires and festivities. I could feel his red eyes staring at my downcast face as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“We’ll just keep searching kitten…As long as we’re together we can keep looking for a way to return home.”

I inhaled deeply and nodded silently as I turned to look at him, his expression was really soft and full of apology. I wanted to go home badly. But…Sylus had a point, wallowing won’t do anything. We’ll just make a plan to find a way back to Linkon.

I steeled myself by fixing my slouched posture and closing my eyes to take deep breaths. After a few moments I opened my eyes and smiled at Sylus, “Well I guess now is the time to embrace the nomad lifestyle…Until we find our way back home that is.”

Sylus stands, my eyes lingering on his distracting buff physique as he holds out his hand.

“Let’s not weep and try to make the most of our time together, hm? Shavanika.”

His baritone voice stirs an excitement in my belly as I take his hand and he begins to twirl me to the rhythm of the festive music the villagers are playing by the campfire. I feel the beads in my hair slap my cheeks as I spin around the orange hues of the warm flames near me. For a brief while as me and Sylus danced around the flames, my anxieties had drifted away. I was grateful to have him by my side and ease my worries.

My bare feet feel unsteady as I haphazardly try to follow the rhythm of an unfamiliar tune, but the warm and strong arms of the silver-haired warrior in front of me hold me steady. I smile and laugh at Sylus’ serious expression as we dance and lose ourselves to a night full of joy.

—————————

After the festival, we packed up and moved to travel alongside the rest of the villagers. Me and Sylus agreed we would adapt to our surroundings of the people around us as we tried to find any clues about a way home.

I was not the fastest learner, but I did get a few things down, the women taught me duties I was expected to help with, from herding livestock, sewing, cooking, and laundry, I was slowly earning my place amongst the others. However, I was struggling with learning the language. I could pick up a few words here and there, but I couldn’t really understand or communicate as properly as I would like.

Then there was Sylus, he was a polyglot so picking up the language wasn’t difficult for him. He must have been fluent only after a solid two weeks of study. I was envious, but also grateful since I relied on his help a lot to learn and understand.

The warriors happily accepted Sylus, he easily fit in and would help them with hunts for resources as well as military strategies and ideas. The Khan favored him a lot and Tara told me whispers of them wanting to promote Sylus to a general title.

While we hadn’t been traveling with our clan for more than a month, we easily slipped into our roles quickly. And now it seems we quickly have found ourselves involved in more politics than we would like.

It was like any other day, I was riding my cream-colored stallion through the grassy fields trying to get the flock of sheep on the right path. I called out the different sounds and commands I was taught while keeping a stead-fast pace on horseback.

My hunter's instincts kicked in as I noticed one sheep was away from the herd, and upon further investigation, it was being hunted by a hungry coyote.

“Shit,” I hissed to myself and acted quickly as I grabbed a rope from my satchel. As the coyote pounced, I lassoed it and used my strength to pull him away from the sheep.

I was heaving and sweaty as I just lifted the clueless sheep back to the herd. As I was getting back on my horse, I heard some whistles call out to me. I glanced around and noticed a group of four warriors walking up and cooing at me.

I didn’t really recognize them, I only knew they were of the same clan since their chest guards had the same color ropes that Sylus wore. The men spoke to me in Talanian, but I could only pick out words like ‘strong’ and ‘brave.’

“I uh…am not familiar with the language yet, chlaarai .”

They seemed to just smile as one made a comment to the group in Talanian, they laughed and just waved goodbye toward me as they rode off.

I didn’t think much of this encounter until the next day.

We had set up camps deep in the Northern Grasslands, orange was taking over the skies as the dawn broke. I was hanging clothes I had just washed in the river on a clothesline outside one of the elder's yurts.

Behind me I heard the sharp tongue of Talanian, I glanced and noted those same big warriors from the other day were talking. I had paid them no mind as I did my duties.

Suddenly I heard the sharp thuds of angry footsteps behind me and a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist. I glanced up and saw a very pissed-off Sylus glaring off in the direction of the four other men.

He yelled at them in Talanian and growled when the other men responded in what I could only assume was a taunt. Sylus let go of my waist and marched up to one of the men and grabbed him by his leathers. People started to gather to watch the rowdy commotion.

I turned and saw Tarna and sighed in relief since she could explain what was going on, “Hey, Tarna….What exactly is happening?” I asked her urgently as it sounded like the men were raising their voices.

“Well…It seems the Khan’s second son Gansu said something about your er….” She paused and looked shy when translating what was said, “birthing hips, and how he wanted you as a wife to bear his children.”

I stood frozen as it all clicked into place. I looked over at Sylus who was still arguing with them, a scowl marred on his face.

“Sylus came in and said they shouldn’t speak about you that way that you were his beloved. Gansu told him that it didn’t matter to him unless you two were wedded or you were pregnant.”

“Seriously?!? If he’s the son of a Khan he can marry whoever he wants. Why would he want me?”

Tarna shook her head at me, “That’s why Sylus is arguing, he says that you are with him and will never have anyone else’s children.”

The arrogant Gansu held a smirk as he practically hissed at Sylus, a dark expression glazed over Sylus’ face. I’ve only ever caught glimpses of Sylus angry, but never this murderous.

“What did he say?” I asked Tarna, my voice full of worry. I could feel the icy chill of Sylus’ anger even from a distance.

“Gansu just said ‘well whoever takes it keeps it’ as a threat… I think you should go over and stop Sylus, if he gets in a fight with the Khan’s son they could severely punish him,” Tarna warned me.

I nodded and without a second thought, I ran up behind Sylus and gently placed my hand on his lower back. His tense body seemed to ease up a bit at my touch as I tried my hardest to speak in Talanian.

“ Amarkhan bai….S-Shavanika …” Fight not, beloved . These were the only words I could best make out with my limited knowledge.

Silently he grabbed my hand and glared down Gansu as he turned to walk away with me. I felt his grip on my hand tighten as Gansu and his men still taunted behind us. We began walking off towards our yurt and it wasn’t until we were a safe distance away I had to whimper to Sylus.

“Your grip is too tight it hurts,” I cried.

He seemed to snap out of his trance and he softened his grip and rubbed his large thumb soothingly across my hand, “Sorry sweetie… I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“I don’t exactly know what was said, but Tarna translated some of what you guys were saying. I didn’t realize the Khan’s son and his friends saw me herding sheep yesterday.”

“The Talanian language is very harsh, most of the words are very direct. The disgusting words from the Khan’s second son really got under my skin is all… Why didn’t you tell me you ran into him yesterday?”

“I didn’t think it was important… Also, I hardly saw you yesterday,” I sigh, “You came back to our tent pretty late… Are you sure you weren’t up practicing Talanian with the other village girls?” I hiss a bit. While the Khan’s son may be chasing my skirts, I can’t ignore the fact that all the girls of the village have been trying their hardest to catch Sylus’ eye.

Sylus stopped in his tracks and growled he turned to me and looked down with a sharp gaze, “How many times do I need to express to you I’m not interested in the other village girls?”

I match his glare and put my hands on my hips, “And how many times do I have to tell you I can handle myself, the Khan’s son doesn’t scare me. I’ll just refuse him.”

Sylus tsked his lips and leaned down to lift me up on his shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down!”

“No. It seems like I need to practice Talanian with the only village girl who matters to me,” he says sharply. He gives my butt a playful smack as I’m hoisted over his shoulder, my face in the direction of his backside.

I smack his butt back and he just chuckles, “You’re not getting out of this one Shavanika, so simmer down kitten.”

When he strutted into our tiny little yurt and set me down, his red eyes shined with a mixture of excitement and mischief. His hand remained on my waist as he spoke in a low and seductive tone.

My back arched at the feeling of his hands trailing down my waist and gathering my skirts up in his large rough palms. He set his other palm in the dip on my hip as he stared at me with almost an appraising look in his eye. “Let’s start with the lesson…What did that man call these?”

His left dominant hand was under my skirt caressing my thigh, I let out a shaky breath as I closed my eyes and tried to remember the foreign words spoken earlier.

“T-Toro? Kha-?” I sputtered out as his palm found its way to one of my bare-asscheeks. He squeezed it and tsked his lips as he brought his face closer to mine and he spoke lowly.

“Torkah Khongo,” the purr in his voice did nothing but further my arousal. I was being engulfed by the dominant energy Sylus was putting out. It didn’t take very much for me to become putty in his strong hands.

His other hand reached under my skirt as well and without further notice, the lengthy skirt that usually met my ankles were now scrunched up at my waist. Underwear wasn’t a common thing within the tribe, so I had been forced to forgo that luxury and be commando under my lengthy traditional clothing. I think for a situation such as a lustful Sylus, it was beneficial to be as naked as possible.

“Do you know what the translation is?” He quirked a brow.

“B-Birthing Hips?”

“Mhmm,” there was a slight growl to his response, “he said that you had the birthing hips to bear him many sons.” Sylus gripped my hips in a tightening grip. “Too bad for him these hips are miniikh.”

Sylus dropped to his knees in a squat as his mouth bit a part of my inner thigh, his hands rubbing the bare skin before him. “Do you know the translation?”

His mouth placed hot and wet kisses in my inner thigh, teasing me by being so close to where I actually wanted his mouth. I gasped out an answer as he was torturing me with kisses, “M-Mine?”

“Good girl, seems like you do know more than I thought,” he whispers breathlessly, “Let me reward you.”

He then licked my dripping slit, I let out a whimper in surprise.

“Tell me, who do these hips belong to?” He asked as he pulled away from licking my heat.

“Y-You.”

He smacked my thigh at my answer, “Ah-Ah-Ah, in Talanian sweetie.”

“ Ta,” I moaned out as he suckled on my sensitive pearl.

With a pop of his lips, he pulled away and smirked, “Hmm that’s a good answer, but I have a better one. Repeat after me: Nökhör .”

The pronunciation of the word feels strange as I try my best to repeat it, “noct-core?”

Sylus just shakes his head and repeats it slower for me, when I finally pronounce it right he rewards me by entering one of his fingers into my dripping center.

“Keep saying it sweetie, practice makes perfect,” he chuckles and his mouth finds my center again as he slowly devours me.

With his finger slowly pumping me and his greedy tongue flickering on my sensitive folds, my voice is nothing but a loud and needy whine of this new word he’s taught me and I haven’t a clue what it means. All I know is Sylus likes it as he happily groans into my dripping cunt.

“Louder. I want the whole tribe to hear you scream it, so everyone knows we belong to each other and no one else,” his lower face is dripping in my essence and his red eyes have a bit of a manic and desperate look as I look down on him.

“Sylus….” I lose my mind as he now has three fingers in me and the mouth of a sinner as he loudly slurps at my folds with his sharp tongue.

Ecstasy and euphoria wash over me as I come on his face with that new and unfamiliar word on my tongue. My knees shake and nearly give out, but Sylus stands and lifts me up so my legs are wrapped around his middle.

I lean my head forward as I pant into his ear, “What’s the translation of that word.”

He laughs as he rubs my back while I come down from my high, “Why, it’s my future title…It means ‘husband.’”

“Sylus! How bold of you to assume!”

He frowned at this and glared at me, “I'm not assuming anything, but unless you want to be the wife of the Khan’s son, then you must be mine…I can’t protect you from the leaders otherwise.”

I blush, “I-It’s just so embarrassing….I never thought about marriage.”

He smirks a bit, “Well I'm glad I can change your mind, at least while we’re here. Linkon has a very different culture from the grasslands, and we can talk about a proper marriage when we return home. Deal?”

“Fine but you’re not knocking me up while I'm here,” I huff at him as he lays me down on our pelts and strips off the rest of his clothes.

“I make no promises, but I’ll do my best. You’re just too tempting, Shavanika.”

“Only for you my Nökhör.”

That night Sylus made me scream so loud that the Khan’s son did nothing but glare daggers as Sylus confidently walked through the village the next day I, on the other hand, was forced to stay in bed due to my wobbly knees. When I finally returned to my duties after a day's rest, the other girls just giggled as they saw me.

Tarna translated a message for me that the elders are happy for whatever blessings me and Sylus marriage may bring, but to keep it to ourselves at night. I was horrified and embarrassed, while Sylus walked around as the proud warrior both in the grasslands and in the bedroom.

The strongest warrior and the sharpest tongue will always come out on top I suppose.

~fin~

Translation guide:

Shavanika - Beloved

Chlaarai - Sorry

Amarkhan bai - Fight not

Torkah Khongo - Birthing Hips

Miniikh - Mine

Ta - You

Nökhör - Husband

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Down Home 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The world's most famous heroes walk into a small town diner and change your life.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Because of this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all to Jupiter and back. Take care. 💖

It’s a slow day. Every day is slow out in Tumble Down. The township’s name tells the whole story. Everything there is in decline. It’s hard to imagine there was ever a time when the people weren’t tiny and forgotten in the hubbub of the bigger world. Since the mines closed and the canning factory was outsourced, it feels even smaller. 

Smaller isn’t so bad. It’s simpler. You all know each other’s names and faces. You say hi and how are you and do what needs to be done. Simple is, simple as. 

You here there isn’t much to do in most small towns. Not for fun or for work. You’re one of the lucky ones. You got a job down at the diner in your sophomore year. It helped pay for your daddy’s new engine and since then, it keeps you all afloat in the rising waters of disparity as they close in on Tumble Down. 

You hum to the old radio that sits on the shelf you make sure to dust. The speakers crackle from time to time and the signal gets wonky in storm season, but the music’s never bad. It’s the classic stuff that always played in your mother’s kitchen. 

You wipe down another table. Not because it needs it, just because it’s something to do. The day has been long and listless. Even the breakfast rush was lower than usual. 

Darnell, the cook, whistles along from the back. Everyone knows he isn’t as mean as he looks. He just likes his space. 

As you go back to the counter and lean on it, staring at the ticking clock, a roar cuts through the distance. You blink and look up, narrowing your eyes at the dusty country road outside. Wind rustles through the tall wheat in the field opposite and the noise rumbles closer and closer. 

A man pulls in a motorbike. He’s going so fast that he has to circle the gravel lot before he can slow down. It’s not Lenny and his prized Harley but another man on a more modern-looking mount. Not far behind, another motorcycle zips through and the riders straddle their bikes as the survey the restaurant. 

You narrow your eyes. You probably need glasses but you make do. The last time you got your eyes checked, you didn’t have enough for the frames. 

The one man wears blue and red, an odd helmet on his head. Not a helmet at all but a sort of mask. The other man has dark hair to his chin and a beard to match. He’s all in black but his left arm shines with gold ripples. Not a sleeve, an arm, made of metal. 

“Oh my lord,” you murmur in shock, “Darnell!” You holler over your shoulder, “you’re not gonna believe this.” You turn to the window as he pokes his head around, “not sure I do myself. Tell me my eyes aren’t lyin’.” 

He looks above your head, an easy task for the mammoth cook. He hums and swirls around his spatula. “Thems those boys on the news. The one that was in the old war. Grandad’s battle.” 

“I’m not going crazy with boredom?” You bubble. 

He snorts. It’s as close to a laugh as you get from him. You spin back and hurry around the counter to grab a pair of menus. Still, you don’t want to seem too eager. You put down the menus and fiddle with a napkin holder instead. 

The bell over the door jingles and swipe up the menus and turn. You really can’t believe it’s them. Yet, as Captain America removes his cowl, you’re certain. They look just like they do on the TV. Even with your sight, you can tell. 

“Hello, fellas, how are you doin’ today?” 

The dark-haired one, the Winter Soldier, glances at the other, his cheek dimpling, “well... we’re... uh...” 

“We’re doing great,” Steve Rogers answers brightly. “Starving. You guys serve bacon? My buddy’s dying for some.” 

“Um, yes, sirs, yes. Can I sit ya down?” You ask, hugging the menus closer. 

“Please,” the Captain accepts as the other man stays silent and pensive, his eyes wandering down to the coffee stain on your apron. 

“Just here,” you sweep away and wave them on with you. You stop beside the nicest booth and lay down a menu on each side, “have a seat.” 

They do just as you bid. The blond puts his cowl on the table and unhooks the shield from his back to lay on the far end of the seat. He smooths back the sweaty strands of hair as his companion stretches his metal fingers. You sway nervously by the table, twitching as you remind yourself how to do your job. 

“Well, can I get ya started with coffee? You look beat from the road.” You beam with the smile Mr. Welk says could outshine the sun. 

“Not just the road,” the dark-haired one mutters as he rolls his shoulder. The one that connects to his real arm. “I’ll take one, please.” 

“Can I get an orange juice, please,” the Captain asks. 

“Course ya can. I’ll be right back. You have a look at the specials and give it a think,” you bounce and spin around. 

You go to pour the orange juice and a cup of black coffee. Darnell lingers by the window. He only ever really appears to put a plate up but he watches the new arrivals. 

You bring their drinks and step back, clasping your hands behind you. 

“Did ya need cream or sugar for your coffee, sir?” You ask. 

“Black’s fine,” he assures. 

“No need for the sirs. Steve, Bucky,” Captain America insists, “we’re off duty.” 

“Right, sorry about that, ssss...Steve,” you correct yourself. “You need some more time?” 

“Think I’m decided,” Bucky intones, “what about you?” 

“Set,” Steve confirms, “I’ll have the sunny side up with toast and sausage. Can I get some fruit on the side as well, please?” 

He hands over the menu and you take it as you hold your smile. Your cheeks ache. Not because you have to force it but because you can’t stop. This is the most exciting thing to happen in Tumble Down ever. If Darnell wasn’t there, no one would believe you. 

“Overeasy, bacon, extra bacon too, and some french toast, and uh... home fries.” Bucky offers up the second menu, “please and thank you.” 

“Alrighty,” you preen, “I’ll put your order in.” 

“Got it,” Darnell growls over the empty diner. 

“He’s got good hearing,” you giggle nervously as you look between the men. “Ummmm, sorry, I’ll leave ya be.” 

“You’re not bothering,” Steve assures. “I can see you’re dying to ask.” 

He gives a gentle smile. 

“Nah, oh, gosh. I’m sure ya get it all the time. I don’t wanna be one of those,” you put your hands up. “Really, you all look like you could use the peace and quiet.” 

“Well, actually, I’ve been stuck with this meathead for days,” Bucky scoffs, “so please, I’d love to hear someone else’s voice.” 

You laugh again. They’re funnier than you expect. They always look so serious on the TV. 

“What... what are y’all doing here in Tumble Down? It’s a bit far from... anywhere.” You ask sheepishly. 

“Tumble Down? Is that what it’s called?” Steve scratches his neck above his stained collar. “Well, we couldn’t get a signal so we’ve just been riding through. Saw the sign down the way and figured we’d get a bite.” 

“He’s lying. He was falling asleep on his bike,” Bucky teases. 

“Sure,” Steve shakes his head. “Only ‘cause I’m tired of you.” 

You giggle again, “I thought y’all were friends.” 

“Friends, partners, cursed with each other, have your pick,” Bucky snorts. 

“He’s playing,” Steve says. “Look, we’re boring. Despite what you think. We’re a couple of old men bickering with each other. What about you? What about Tumble Down?” 

“Ah, nothing really, sir. Steve,” you squeeze the menus tight at the edges. “Nothing going on since the coal law and that. Everyone’s all but run out. All but us.” 

“Just you? Your family?” Steve wonders. 

“Jesus, Steve, nosy much?” Bucky says over the brim of his mug. 

“Sorry. He’s right. Like I said. Crotchety old man. I talk to the pigeons.” 

You laugh again, “oh my, you are a hoot!” You slap your thigh emphatically, “I’m still my ma and pa. It’s just the three of us. They need help with the animals and that.” 

“Animals?” Steve wonders, his posture shifting towards you. 

“Chickens, cows. They got a farm. Was my grandpa’s. And his ma kept it going after he didn’t come home from... well, you’d know more about that time than me, I think.” You give a forlorn look to the floor. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry about your grandfather. Great grandfather,” he corrects himself. 

“Lotta good men gone,” Bucky mulls grimly. 

“Yeah, my great granny said as much. I wouldn’t know though, but I heard the stories,” you dare to look at them again. “Sorry to bring up the bad memories.” 

“Nah,” Bucky waves you off casually. “I got this nifty arm outta it.” 

“And I got a shield so, you know, not all losses,” Steve chuckles. 

“I s’pose,” you agree. “I’m gonna check on that food for ya. You good with your coffee?” 

Bucky raises the mug, “delicious.” 

You nod and turn with a swish of your skirt. You go up to the window and look over the ledge. “How’s it going, Darnell?” 

“Going. I’m happy it ain’t Raylene here. She’s got a mouth on her, don’t she? Them sort don’t deserve that trouble,” he tisks. 

“They’re nice. And Raylene is too. She’s just... Raylene,” you say, “can I help with anything?” 

“I don’t wanna be rude but I’m tired of tellin’ ya to stay outta my kitchen. You know the grill likes to spit,” he shakes his head. “You go, I’ll let ya know when it’s ready.” 

“Alright,” you back away and turn back. 

Steve and Bucky lean over the table, their voices low as they chat. As you move around behind the counter, they both sit up and the former clears his throat. You smile as you take the cloth from your apron pocket and wipe the already clean counter. 

As the radio buzzes, you hum without thinking. Stevie Ray Vaughan’s smoky voice mingles with the emotion plucked through electric strings. Your dad’s a big fan. He has old tapes with concerts on them and even went to one himself. 

The bell rings and you nearly jump out of your shoes. You turn and scoop up the plates as you thank Darnell. He grumbles that he’s going out to have a smoke; his code for having a Tootsie Pop by the backdoor. 

You bring the meals over to the table and set them down before the men. Their gazes make you sweat. It’s all a little more intense with no one else there. 

“Thank you,” Steve says and Bucky echoes him. 

“Not at all. Anything else? Water? Ketchup?” 

“It all looks great as is,” Steve says, “you got a nice voice.” 

“Oh, really? Ha, I was just humming out of tune. Sorry if I was too loud.” 

“Not at all,” Bucky picks up his fork as he leans forward. He tilts his head. “You know this one?” 

“Sure do. It’s Fleetwood Mac,” you answer. “One my all times.” 

He grins and nods as he looks at Steve. Steve watches you with a smile of his own. 

“Do you sing?” He asks. 

“Me? Only in my shower or to the chickens. They usually hide in the henhouse then.” You tinkle with laughter. 

“Ah,” Steve nods. 

“But if... if ya really wanna suffer, I could try it,” you smile, “but uh, you know, Stevie Nicks, she’s one of a kind.” 

“I’ve had worse,” Steve says. 

You look between him and Bucky. You chew your lip and think. You follow the song as you try to recognise which verse it is. You squint and perk up as you catch your place. 

“You just let me know when you’ve had enough,” you say before you start. Not only can you tell your pa that you met the super soldiers, you can tell him you sang for them. It’ll be a nice bit of excitement for the dinner table. 

[ashwhowrites]

Hi, love your work.

I was thinking a maybe a break up and make up fic with:

Angst Prompt 31. “You broke me! You ruined everything we had and- for what?”

Fluff prompt 7. “You’re the only person I want to spend my life with”

With Eddie Munson/Y/N Henderson or Y/N Wheeler. A sister from one of the main party.

Eddie and Y/N have been together before season 1. Season 1 happens, Y/N was there. Resulting in her getting closer to Steve or Jonathan, to which Eddie thinks Y/N is cheating on him. Even catches Steve/Jonathan comforting Y/N and gets the wrong idea. They break up. The younger brother of Y/N tells Eddie off and makes him rethink things. Leading to them getting back together.

Thank you so much! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Friends? Or something else?

Y/N Wheeler was quite different from her sister, Nancy. Nancy liked the boy next door vibe, and Y/N liked the rebel bad boy. Y/N didn't see what Nancy ever saw in Steve in the beginning. But he turned out to be a sweet guy when Nancy stomped on his heart.

She felt bad for Steve, but Y/N wanted to spend her free time with Eddie. It was no shock that the two fell for each other. Eddie was exactly her type, the leather, the attitude, and the nasty mouth he kissed her with.

Anyone could see she was smitten with the boy. She kissed the ground he walked on. She would do anything he asked, and do it happily.

It was a shame all he did was doubt her love for him

~~~

Eddie and Steve didn't really get along. Back when Nancy and Steve were together, the sisters loved double dates.

As Y/N fed Eddie fries and shared chocolate milkshakes, Nancy and Steve would argue across from them. Half of their double dates ended with Eddie and Y/N sneaking off.

Eddie didn't like the way Steve carried himself. He thought he was so superior compared to the rest of them and that didn't sit well with Eddie. And Y/N thought the same. She hated the way he treated Eddie.

Y/N just couldn't get along with Steve.

Until Nancy broke up with him and he finally showed his true self.

She couldn't lie. She felt bad for Steve. He showed up to their house with flowers but Nancy was already out with friends. Y/N couldn't leave him outside and alone. She let him in and before she knew it she was comforting him.

He cried into her arms as he talked about how Nancy was all he had left.

"I'll be here for you, I promise."

And she meant it. Whenever Steve called, she listened to what he had to say. Nancy was a little bothered at first. She found it weird her ex-boyfriend was using her little sister as a shoulder. But then Steve began to change, in a way Nancy thought wasn't possible.

The friendship helped Steve and Nancy accept that. It even helped get them back on normal speaking terms.

Eddie hated it, though. He hated having Y/N in his lap, rocking her hips against his. His tongue battled hers as the music played through his shitty speakers.

"Wheeler, call for Wheeler."

Steve's voice cut through the moment like a knife. The static voice worked its way through the talkie and Y/N pulled back.

"One second," she whispered.

Eddie felt his stomach turn as she grabbed the talkie and went outside. He wanted to trust her, he so badly did. But it was so hard when she'd always leave the room to talk to him. Why can't she talk to him in front of her boyfriend? It meant she was hiding something.

She had to be cheating on him.

And the thought of it broke his heart.

The one time he was in love, she found someone else.

~

What Eddie didn't know was that Steve and Y/N found themselves thrown into some type of supernatural portal. Something called the upside down? She wasn't quite sure what it all meant yet, but all she knew was that she and Steve fought hand in hand for months on end.

The world seemed to be back to normal and they wanted to keep it that way. She didn't want Eddie to get dragged into all of it. She'd never forgive herself if something happened to him. So she demanded every single one in the gang keep what happened a secret.

It was sworn that Eddie never found out what happened a few months back.

As a result of being at war with Steve, meant their friendship grew so strong that they truly became best friends. They leaned on each other when they needed it the most.

Eddie didn't understand how one minute she hated Steve and the next, she ran the second he called. He knew something happened between them. He tried to piece together a timeline, but he drew blanks.

~

She bounced back into the trailer with an apologetic smile on her face.

"Steve needs to talk some stuff out. He got in a fight with his dad. Can we raincheck the movie?" she asked

Eddie fought the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn't surprised.

"Sure thing," Eddie smiled. He was good at pretending that nothing was wrong. So well that she had no idea she was ruining their relationship the more she picked Steve.

~~~

"Do you think you'll come to the hideout tonight?" Eddie asked as he wrapped his arms around Y/N. Her back to his chest as she crammed books in her locker.

His lips kissed her neck as he swayed them back and forth.

"Ew, get a room." Nancy gagged, but a smile on her face. Nancy loved seeing her sister in love. She was the main reason Nancy ended things with Steve.

Nancy wanted what Y/N and Eddie had, and she didn't feel like she did with Steve.

"Um, I'm sorry but I don't think I can." Y/N cringed as Eddie's touch was gone in a second.

Nancy sensed the air change and quickly left them alone. Nancy knew tonight was a meeting with the gang, they were worried the upside down was opening again. But Eddie couldn't know.

"Don't even tell me it's because you'll be with Steve." Eddie snapped.

Y/N felt nervous to turn around. She gulped as she turned around, that same apologetic look in her eyes.

"Why now? Can he just go to fucking therapy and stop using my girlfriend?"

"Eds, be nice," she tried, but she could tell by the look on his face that he was strongly irritated.

"What's wrong?" she asked, she reached to wrap her arms around his neck. She didn't hide the pain she felt when he backed away.

"What's wrong? What's wrong is that my girlfriend doesn't seem to give a shit that I exist." Eddie spat, he wanted to keep his anger in check but he couldn't help but sound pissed.

"Of course I do! Tonight I just had prior plans."

"Cancel and come with me," Eddie said, his voice soft as he grabbed her hand. He turned his puppy eyes to her as he begged.

"I can't cancel, Eds." She sighed sadly

The anger washed up as quickly as it washed away.

He dropped her hand like it burned. Her hand was dead against her side as it dangled.

"Why not?" he challenged

"They all need me, baby," she said softly

Eddie shook his head and chuckled darkly.

"They do or Steve does?"

"Eddie, you know it's not like that, right?" She said, her heart broke as she watched the insecurity flash across his face. Had he been upset about Steve all this time? Was she a horrible girlfriend for not noticing?

"Just sometimes I need my girlfriend too," he said sadly, then walked off.

"Eddie, no wait," she said, she grabbed his hand. She felt her throat close up as he sniffled.

"Forget it. I'll tell you about the show whenever I see you."

"Eddie, please. I'm sorry." she tried, she wanted to tell him the truth but she couldn't.

"I know, I'll see you later," he said, his mouth in a tight line as he walked away.

~

Y/N couldn't focus during the meeting. Her brain focused on the little fight with Eddie. Had she been neglecting him? She would never intentionally hurt him and she hated that she still did.

Steve was listening to Dustin when he heard sniffles. He looked beside him and watched as Y/N silently cried. Her head down as she used her shirt to catch the tears.

"You okay?" Steve whispered in her ear

"Course," she said, putting on a fake smile as she looked at him

But looking at Steve made her think of Eddie. And thinking of Eddie caused a loud sob to escape.

The gang all looked in her direction. Nancy and Mike watched with concern as she stood up.

"Sorry, need a minute." she apologized, she raced up the stairs and closed the basement door behind her.

She dropped her body on the front step and let the sobs take over her body. She cried into her hands as the afternoon played through her head on an endless loop.

Steve followed behind her, he sat next to her and he wrapped his arms around her. She turned her body into his and sobbed. Her wet tears soaked his shirt as she sobbed.

"What is going on?" he whispered, he gently rubbed her back as she tried to get ahold of herself.

She told him everything that happened, Steve felt a puddle of guilt in his stomach. He pulled her away, it was his fault Eddie was upset.

They were lost in their own world, no idea that as Steve placed a comforting kiss on her forehead Eddie was in the driveway.

Eddie's heavy feet stomped towards them. They jumped apart hearing his boots crunch the sticks below.

Steve stood up and held his hands in defense

"Munson, I swear it-" but he didn't get to finish his sentence.

Eddie went at him, a huge right punch connected straight against Steve's eye. Steve crumbled to the grass instantly as he held his eye.

"EDDIE!" Y/N gasped, she quickly jumped in front of Steve as Eddie went to charge forward.

"Not like that right?" Eddie spat, his voice filled with venom as he shot her words right back at her.

"Eddie," Steve groaned as he stood up. He looked at Eddie with one eye, holding the bruising one. "It's not what you think, I swear."

"I don't give a single fuck about what you have to say" Eddie hissed as he pointed at Steve over Y/N's shoulder.

"Steve, can you give us a second?" Y/N asked, but her eyes never left Eddie.

Once she heard the front door shut, she took a deep breath.

"How could you do this to me?" Eddie asked, his voice cracked as the first round of tears fell down his face. "We were so in love. You used to love me so much. You used to never leave my side and now? Now I can barely remember the last time we even had sex."

"Oh Eddie," she whimpered as she stepped forward and held his face in her hands. She cried seeing him cry. "We are in love! I still love you. I love you more and more every day. I'm sorry I've gotten so caught up with Steve but I promise you it is not because I have feelings for him. I didn't know you were missing me so much."

"How could you know? You won't see me for more than ten minutes." he snapped, he grabbed her hands and shoved them off of his face. She tried to ignore the drop of her heart.

"You're right. I am so sorry. Talk to me, let's talk it out."

"I don't think I even want to anymore," he confessed. YN shook her head as she panicked.

"No, baby, You can do it, just tell me what you are feeling, please," she begged, she fought hard not to touch him. All she wanted was to wrap her arms around him but she couldn't tell if he wanted her to touch him.

"You broke me! You ruined everything we had and- for what?" Eddie said, he lashed out as his tears turned into anger. His voice rose. "For Steve? I mean how could you even do this to Nancy?"

"She doesn't care because she knows we are just friends!" Y/N argued. "Like I've told you! There is nothing between him and I."

"YOU AND I USED TO BE FRIENDS, SHIT CHANGES Y/N!" he screamed, no doubt letting the neighbors know a fight was breaking out

"That's different." she cried, tears falling down her face.

"HOW?" he screamed as he stepped closer. Right in her face as he demanded his answer.

"BECAUSE I WAS ALREADY IN LOVE WITH YOU, ASSHOLE. I KNEW I LOVED YOU AND I HAD TO PRETEND I DIDN'T BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT TO LOSE YOU AS A FRIEND. THAT IS WHY IT IS DIFFERENT. I'VE NEVER WANTED TO KISS STEVE OR WONDERED WHAT HE TASTED LIKE. IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU!" she cried, it hurt to have him so close and not touch him. She wanted to have the right words to say.

"Then why has it only been Steve, lately?" Eddie asked, breaking down as the words left his tongue. More tears fell as he looked into her eyes. He used to see through her, but something happened and her eyes never told him the truth anymore.

"I can't tell you because it would kill me if you got hurt because of me." She watched as he nodded and choked back his tears. His red eyes looked into hers.

"You've been hurting me for months, and you are still breathing," her heart shattered as he began to step back, "Steve or not, it's clear you don't have the time for me. Take me off that full plate you have."

"Eddie, please don't" she sobbed as he kept stepping back. With each step he took, she made that step forward.

"If you ever truly loved me, you'll let me heal from you. I don't deserve to feel second best by my own girlfriend."

With those words, she stopped. She planted her feet in the grass as he turned around. She covered her mouth as he got in his van. Before he closed the door, she yelled his name.

He looked over at her

"I need you to know that I'm doing what you asked. I'll leave you alone and give you the space you need because it'll prove that I love you. Even if it kills me to never be with you again."

She watched as he didn't say a word, just closing his door and taking off down the road.

~~~

Mike had seen both his sisters experience breakups, but nothing as bad as Y/N.

It's been a week since the breakup, and Y/N barely leaves her room. She came out to use the bathroom, sometimes she'd sit in the kitchen and stare at the phone. She'd pray that he would call, but she knew he wouldn't. After a few hours, she'd go right back up to her room.

"Poor girl. I've never seen her so heartbroken." Karen said as she sat down at the dinner table. "Has she done any of the schoolwork she missed?"

"Barely, I've turned in a few of her assignments." Nancy said, "She won't even talk to me about it."

"Shame on that boy for hurting her," Karen said as she shook her head, "I wish I could smack some sense into him."

His mom's words gave Mike an idea.

~

The next morning Mike biked to Eddie's trailer. It was a Saturday morning so he knew Eddie would be rotting in bed.

He was done seeing his sister lose herself

and he was done with Eddie's cranky ass during Hellfire.

He threw his bike into the dirt as he raced up to Eddie's trailer. He pounded on the door.

"Wheeler?" Eddie said confused, his eyes half open as he yawned.

"We need to talk," Mike snapped, letting himself in the trailer and sitting on the couch.

"Great, another fight with a wheeler," Eddie mumbled to himself.

"What can I help you with?" Eddie asked as he stood.

"Why does it look like you are sleeping on the couch?" Mike asked with sass as he pushed the bundle of blankets out of his way. "Bedroom reeks of all the random girls you've been sleeping with?" he hissed.

"Woah, little Wheeler. What I do in my bedroom is none of your business. What makes you think I'm sleeping with random girls? Is that how your sister is dealing with the breakup?" Eddie asked, he couldn't help but get mad at his own words.

"Oh shut your mouth," Mike snapped, "my sister isn't this whore you claim her to be."

"I know, that was uncalled for," Eddie said, "how...how is she?" he couldn't help but ask. It had been eating him up all week. He hadn't seen her once, hadn't heard her voice, and it killed him. He had no idea if she was breaking apart or completely fine with Eddie gone.

"Answer my question first," Mike demanded, he got off the couch and walked to Eddie's room. If there was a girl in there, Mike swore he'd kill Eddie before the upside-down had the chance.

"WHEELER!" Eddie yelled but Mike carried on. He flew Eddie's door open. And it was empty. The bed set is perfectly made, with a flower on the pillow with a note attached.

"And what slut is this for? Moving on already?" Mike snapped. He reached forward and grabbed the note.

"Give me that!" Eddie snapped back, snatching the note from his hands. "I'm not sleeping with anyone, okay? I haven't been in here since the breakup. She made my bed that morning and wrote me a note, and this was the first flower someone had given me. I just wanted to leave everything the way she touched it." Eddie explained. The room held too many memories, and it smelled of her.

"Can we talk in the living room?"

Mike nodded, knowing not to push Eddie further.

They walked back into the living room as Eddie closed his bedroom door. Eddie took a seat next to Mike.

"She's heartbroken," Mike said, Eddie looked over at him. "She doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and stares at the phone the second school ends until she knows you are asleep. She's miserable and it's all your fault!" Mike said, pissed at Eddie for hurting his sister. Mike stood up so he could tower over Eddie, by a little.

"You broke her and you better fix it!"

"I didn't do anything, Mike. You are too young to understand, but our relationship wasn't the same." Eddie sighed. He did feel awful hearing about how bad she was doing. Guilt in his bones as he pictured her staring at the phone.

There were so many times he wanted to call. At one point he didn't care if she ever had feelings for Steve, he wanted to be with her anyway. He'd watch her kiss Steve a thousand times if she still picked Eddie to come home to.

"I might be young, but I'm not an idiot. Steve never liked her, he is still hung up on Nancy. And Y/N never liked Steve more than a friend. Hell, she barely understood what Nancy saw in him because he wasn't you. She is so in love with you that you are literally the only guy she sees worthy. I don't blame you for wanting to protect yourself. But she has been killing herself to protect you."

"But I don't understand why she can't tell me! We've been in a relationship for over a year, and she still has these secrets!" Eddie argued.

"It's not her secret to tell! It's mine, okay?" Mike said, Eddie looked at him confused. "What I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane. But you have to believe me. It'll explain why Y/N thought it would protect you to keep you out of it."

Eddie sat and listened as Mike explained what happened over the past year. The upside down and the battles. How Y/N and Steve got thrown together and they could only turn to each other because of it. But it all made sense. She kept promising she couldn't tell because if he got hurt, it would kill her. Because if Eddie got hurt, he wouldn't survive.

~~~

Eddie waited a day before he picked up the phone. He felt nervous as he dialed the number he knew by heart.

It rang for a second before a voice appeared on the other end

"Hello, Y/N speaking,"

Eddie closed his eyes at the sadness in her voice.

"Hey, darling. It's, uh me, Eddie." He stuttered out

"I knew it was you by the first word," she laughed sadly. She hated how hard it seemed to talk to him. Like she didn't know what to say.

"Right," he chuckled, "I was hoping we could talk? Maybe better in person?" He drummed his hands against the wall as he heard her breathing heavily through the phone.

"Yeah, um when and where?" Her voice cracked as she blinked back her tears. This was the final moment, he wanted to break it off officially. She gave him his space and he was ready for it to be forever.

"Please don't cry, sweetheart." He begged, choking up himself as he listened to her.

"I'm fine!" She lied, "Just tell me when and where."

"My place and the sooner the better."

He clenched his eyes in pain as she whimpered and let out a soft okay before the phone went dead.

~

She drove over to his trailer, unable to keep the tears back.

She was scared to see him again. She barely kept it together hearing his voice again. She didn't want to cry when she saw him, but it was all she had been doing for the past week.

Eddie was against his trailer smoking a cigarette when she pulled up. She took another deep breath as she turned off the car. Even having that small glimpse sent her head into a spiral.

Eddie smashed his cigarette as she walked up to him. She wore one of his old hoodies, and a pair of sweats she stole after their first movie date. Her eyes were majority swollen and red. Her nose was red as she rubbed it with his sleeve.

"Hi, sweets" Eddie cooed, as he opened his arms. Within seconds her body crashed into his as she wrapped her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her. He rested his chin on her head, inhaling her scent. He kissed her head, and every painful feeling in his body melted away.

She sobbed as she inhaled his clothes. All she wanted was to be with him again, and she was. She kept squeezing him tighter, hoping he'd feel closer.

"Don't cry, my love," he said into her hair, rubbing her back.

"I missed you so much," she sobbed, "it was so hard to give you the space you wanted."

"I missed you too, baby girl. I'm so sorry I made you give me space. I'm so sorry for the mess I made since I didn't communicate when I should have. Let's go inside." He let go of her body but laced his hand with hers as they walked into the trailer. Eddie led her to his room, he opened the door and closed it behind him. She refused to let go of his hand, but he didn't ask her to.

She wasn't sure how long she'd have before he wanted space again. He sat beside her as she looked around his room. She noticed it was the same as a week ago, but she didn't say anything.

instead of sitting next to her, he dropped to his knees and rested his head on her lap. She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair, she scratched his head in the way he loves.

"I'm sorry for fucking this up. I should have trusted you, I'm sorry I didn't. I thought I needed space, but all it did was make me miss you." He melted into her touch as her fingers continued to run through his hair. "I'm so in love with you. I wasn't used to sharing you and I felt like I was losing you." His puppy eyes looked up at her as he sat up on his knees.

He laced his hands with hers and rested them on her lap

"I'm sorry for not realizing how much I was hurting you. You are the only boy I'd ever want. I love you and that won't ever change." She said she unlaced their hands so she could cup his face. Her thumbs rubbed his wet cheeks as she leaned in and placed her lips on his.

Eddie wrapped his arms around her waist, his palms resting on her back as he kissed her back. Eddie straightened himself as he deepened the kiss. He kept his lips on hers as he pushed her back and stood up. Her back was against his mattress as he climbed on top of her. The kiss grew more intense and hungry as her hands moved to his stomach. His right hand rested on her cheek, he moaned as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth.

The kiss sent goosebumps rising on her skin. The feelings she felt when she kissed Eddie never went away, it was always butterflies and needing more.

Eddie pulled away for air, his eyes soaking her in. She was slow to open her eyes but when she did she was staring into Eddie's.

“You’re the only person I want to spend my life with” she whispered

"Just like the note said." he smiled

"Just like the note said," she laughed. Already missing his lips, she placed her hand on the back of his neck and brought his lips to hers. She frowned when Eddie pulled back a little, not letting their lips meet.

"Before I get carried away with you," Eddie winked, she blushed and bit her lip. "Will you be my girl again?"

"I never stopped,"

Eddie smiled and smashed his lips back on hers. They hungrily touched each other, showing how much they missed it and never wanted space again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

[despacito-uwu16]

PRETTY PLEASE

(Pining! Kenji Sato x Reader)

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

"pretty please come on over and ruin my life" - Pretty Please by Dutch Melrose

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

Kenji woke up in his room with a pounding headache and a wave of nausea hitting him like a ton of bricks. Mina held the trashcan as Kenji threw up the contents from last night’s party. After he was done, Mina set down a sandwich, along with some water and painkillers. “Thanks, Mina”. He said as he took a bite of the sandwich. Before she left his bedroom, she closed the curtains, making the room dark again. Kenji put the sandwich back on the plate and lied back down on the bed. He closed his eyes again, and the events of last night came flooding back. The techno music blasting, the alcohol, the girl…

The girl… she was all alone at the after party so Kenji approached her. It went from small talk and flirting to long, deep conversations. The next thing he knew, they were dancing on the dance floor. He remembers her angelic laugh, her strong lavender perfume, the way she would look at him while he held her as they danced. They were perfect for each other.

“She was so pretty”…

“Fuck what was her name again”?

Kenji looked through his contacts, trying to see if there was a name or a phone number he wasn’t familiar with. But alas, nothing. As he sinks further down into the soft pillows, his hands fell onto his face. Of all the things he didn’t do, he didn’t think to ask for her phone number.

He couldn’t stop daydreaming about the girl. Everywhere he went, he thought he saw her. But he always ends up mistaking her for another random lady. 

His pining got to the point where it annoyed his baseball team. Every time Kenji would bring up the mystery girl, his teammates would groan, yelling at him to shut the fuck up.  Even his coach had enough of the mystery girl nonsense.

“If you don’t get your head out of the gutter, i’m trading you to the tigers. That’s a promise”. His coach threatened.

Even Mina noticed how distracted Kenji was. Every time Kenji came back from battle, he would show up with more bruises and injuries. 

“Kenji, what’s going on with you? You keep loosing your focus”. Mina asked. 

“I’m fine Mina, really I am”. Kenji puts an ice pack on his shoulder, the cold stinging his skin. 

“This is about the girl from your dreams, isn’t it”? Mina pressed on.

Kenji sighs. “She isn’t some girl I made up! She’s real Mina, and the thought of her is driving me crazy. What’s even worse is I never got her phone number”. 

“I’m sure you’ll see her again”. Mina reassures him. 

“In a city like Tokyo? I doubt it”. He pouts. 

Everyone around him is well aware of how down bad he is for the girl. The thought of her is ruining him, but he didn’t care. He wants to see her again. Scratch that, he NEEDS to see her again. 

But a few weeks go by, an the thought of the mystery girl eventually died down. His focus came back and Kenji can properly function again. 

He was filling up the water coolers for his team, minding his own business when all of a sudden, he heard a familiar laugh. He turned around and saw a (hair color) haired girl talking on the phone while filling up her water bottle at the same water station. 

“It’s you”. He muttered out loud.

The girl turned around and looked at him. Kenji panicked, he finally found the mystery girl that had been plaguing his mind for weeks, and now he couldn’t form a single sentence.

“Hey, can I call you back? Okay bye”. The girl hung up her phone and approached Kenji. 

“Well, if it isn’t Ken Sato”. She smirked

“I can’t believe it’s you”. Said Kenji.

“In the flesh. I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried when you blacked out”. She said.

Kenji looks at her in confusion. “I blacked out? But Ken Sato never passes out”. 

“Well, you did. It was during our dance. My guess is the soju finally caught up to you”. She chuckled. 

He finally remembered now. He had two soju bottles and the next thing he knew, he saw stars. Talk about embarrassment.

“Anyways, my brother and I took you home”. She added. 

“Damn… I’m sorry, I really wanted to see you again, but I never got your number”. He said.

“I slipped my phone number in your jacket, hoping you would find it. But then I waited and then realized you probably didn’t want to talk to me”. She looked down at the ground. 

Kenji’s mentally face palmed himself. He didn’t think to look through his clothes before laundering them.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it! God I’m such an idiot”. He scratched his head. 

“It’s okay Ken. Here, give me your phone”. She gestured for it. 

He gave her his phone and she added her number on his notes app. 

“Text me and we can get dinner sometime”. She hands his phone back.

“I would like that”. He smiled at her. 

Suddenly, they hear the crowds cheering loudly from the stadium

“I guess that’s my cue to head back in. Can’t wait to see you play Ken”. She winks and turns to leave. 

He walked away, feeling incredibly lucky and lovestruck. But he snapped out of it when he realized…

“WAIT I DIDN’T GET YOUR”- 

But as he turned around, she was gone again. Lost in the crowd full of people.

“Name”…

“Well, at least I got your number”. Kenji thought

He looked down at his phone and saw the number she just put in, along with her name: 

“Y/N”

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated!!

FYI: Requests are open so feel free to send me some ideas for future one shots!

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 3!!!

Now that Leo and Raph are done, it's Donnie's turn for character analysis as a writing reference. So without further ado,

Donnie Character Notes

Language Habits:

Straight up talks like a redditor who hasn't touched enough grass (affectionate)

Oscillates between very scientific paper polished, sometimes adding a dazzle of shakespearean for dramatics, or abbreviations/a shorter version of a word with a more fun connotation (i.e. "brekkie" instead of breakfast)

Uses food as surprised exclamations or curses, "oh my peaches and cream", "banana pancakes!"

Emphasizes each syllable of a long word when he's excited or trying to make a point. Conquered becomes con-qu-ered

Either exaggerates his speech or speaks in deadpan

The science terms he uses as battle cries aren't chosen at random, but rather are related to the action/subject at hand, i.e. yelling "fibonacci" when throwing his spinning tech-bo

Will overly describe an item or a situation, and often gets caught up in these observations before processing what just happened

Will repeatedly yell "help!" when he's distressed and/or outnumbered

Refers to Mikey as "Michael"

Refers to his brothers as "brethren" or "gentlemen"

Refers to splinter as either "father", "papa", or "dad" depending on the weight of the situation

Refers to his tech as his "babies"

Answers the phone with, "You're conversing with Donatello"

Uses "gesundheit" instead of bless you

Personality:

The fixer, he supplies the family with tech and resources. He always has a trinket made for the situation at hand and/or offers his knowledge/data collected. He's always prepared to help. Even with outside resources, he likes to feel useful in solving their problems (i.e., building Todd that dog park)

The theater kid, in a similar vein to leo, Donnie has his own style of dramatics. He often uses shakespeare-like language, is mentioned to regularly recite the jupiter jim musical soundtrack, and has a music mode for his battle shell. He belongs on a stage, or at least thinks he does

Not good at lying, despite the glamour he can put on in the spotlight. This may be due to the side of himself that over explains his thoughts

An over-thinker, who really tends to over-complicate things. His first theory or idea will always be the most extreme buck-wild concept. After some filtering, he still word vomits

A dreamer/big idea guy. He does have big ideas and goals. A lot of these he's able to put into place, although some go a little haywire (see Albearto). He doesn't do things in halves, and puts everything into a project

Meticulous, someone who's very detail oriented. As mentioned before he tends to over-complicates things. This may be impacted by his love for data and collecting information (he does record Everything for a reason)

Always on the edge of violence, which is surprising. Donnie's not known as being the angry archetype of tmnt, but he can get a little violent in his fighting style and does often cite his desire to use lethal force

Low empathy, which is mainly due to his issues processing and recognizing emotions. He's been pegged as unemotional, but in canon he's rather emotional and expressionate, just lacking the skills to process such emotion (he's just like me fr)

Praise motivated, as seen with his interactions with Splinter. Also desires the praise of his brothers, who he doesn't feel understand him with all the teasing that's sent towards his direction. This also pushes him to seek validation and acceptance in other groups (i.e. the purple dragons), to feel a sense of security or belonging

Ignores his own mistakes, and will often pretend like they didn't exist or ever happen. This most likely has to do with his desire for praise, so he feels bad when he fails. If he never made a mistake, he never has to feel bad

Miscellaneous:

Fourth to unlock mystic powers

Uses "Bootyyyshaker9000" as most of his usernames and passwords, with his alt. username being "Alpha-Bootyyyshaker9000"

Has a fear of bees, spiders, and of course beach balls

Breaks the fourth wall the most

Loves the smell of pineapple, hates the texture

Has a hobby of rooting around in the junkyard and dumpster diving

Uses cheat codes in video games

Mikey's next of course :)

[10yrratiolover]

Some of my, oh so many, Ratio Headcannons

he knows a bunch of languages, all of which he can speak fluently

^ this includes Latin

cleans his rubber ducks VERY thoroughly to make sure they don't mold

he HATES getting sweaty, it's the only thing he doesn't like about hot baths and working out

has very strict morning and nightly routines, gets genuinely upset if they're disrupted

I think he and Argenti would have great philosophical debates about beauty (please hoyoverse please see my vision)

just straight up hates bright lights

^ prefers warm lighting over cold

I think his skin is naturally clear but he's definitely got some kind of skincare routine anyway

missed out on a lot of social opportunities during his teenage years due to his studies and such, don't think he would have had many friends (at least not his age)

big fan of parallel play, mostly because he gets caught up in his head so often, he's completely content doing different things in the same vicinity

he also uses Aventurine (or others) as a canvas of sorts to throw ideas and thoughts on, he'll start explaining something, and mid explanation he'll run into the answer, thank whoever he's talking to even though they didn't do anything, and hurry off to write it down

frequent bruises around his collar/bottom of his neck from his alabaster

migraine sufferer, me too stay strong king (actually I think this is canon?)

he VERY rarely cancels his classes, it could be flooded up to his doorknob and he'd send out an email to his students like "Today's lecture is still on."

^ this includes when he's sick or otherwise unwell, he could be barely standing upright and he'd still give his lecture

he can't listen to music with lyrics when doing anything because it distracts him (he'll start zoning in on the words and stop doing whatever else he was doing (did I word this right? idk it happens to me all the time))

he sometimes wears the alabaster at home if sensory issues are really bad that day

^ he verbally shuts down sometimes, which sucks bc he's got a lot to say but he typically just writes things down instead

does actually throw chalk at his students, not as hard as his in-battle attack obviously but his aim is always on point

^ his perfect aim also applies to literally anything he throws, his keys, his phone, if he wants to throw something somewhere it's getting there

sometimes completely submerges himself in the bath and just holds his breath for a bit to fully clear his head

^ he can hold his breath pretty long so he sits under there for a bit (freaked Aventurine out the first time he walked in on him doing it tho)

call me crazy but I think he'd be good with kids

[ruthlessness69]

The Man and the Sea (Epic the musical fanfic)

main ship: Poseidon x Odysseus

(English is not my first language, please keep it in mind)

notes:

• It's the first part of the beginning. I don't have an AO3 account yet, once I get it I'll post it there and share a link 🩵 (upd. the link is ready!!)

• I know that gods' blood is called "ichor", I just wanted to stated out that it's blood. And it was red in Epic, so I'm kinda sticking to that source.

• I want to say a big THANK YOU to those who helped me with corrections!! You rock, guys 😍

• I guess I should note that the fic is R-18?? Idk how to rate it correctly yet, please feel free to correct me in the comments. Okay, let's go :>

part 1.

🌊🌊🌊

- After everything you've done, how will you sleep at night?

- Next to my wife.

***

He said it and left, finally he's reached his shore. The shore which was consuming god's blood at the moment. Poseidon was lying still, spread out, his feet couldn't move and the blood was running free from all his wounds. He couldn't die, that's true, he could feel pain though. It was burning through him, pulsating, unstoppable. He was defeated by his own weapon and by his own philosophy, which was even more painful.

A hoarse laugh bursted out of his throat.

- You've become the one you were destined to, just as I thought. You never came home the same. It's no longer you.

***

Late at night Odysseus had a long neverending nightmare. Styx. His dead comrade's cries. Water. The water was everywhere, it was surrounding him, pulling him in. Poseidon. He was dragging him down, to the bottom, there was no escape. Trying to reach the surface, Odysseus was ripping off his shoes, his clothes, he was ready to rip off his legs and arms, and his very skin, anything to be set free from this torture.

- Enough... stop!!

King of Ithaca was suddenly wide awake in his bed. The sound of the tidel waters filled the silence of the night. A peaceful, unhurried whisper coming from Penelope took him back to reality.

- Honey, sleep a bit, sleep a bit more. It's okay, you're home.

Penelope wasn't fully awake, she was talking in her sleep, she was already used to her husband's nightmares after two years and didn't have to be fully conscious to calm him down and carress him back to sleep.

Odysseus slipped out of the bed and went to the balcony.

The sea is always near. It surrounds you everywhere.

The surf was licking the sand of the shore, waves were coming down still and quite, over and over again. But Odysseus knew the quite was deceiving.

Did he really stab Poseidon with his own trident? Or was it all just a bad dream? Was he really at home? Or did he drown after god's final attack? Could this all be just his agony before he finally dies?

- When will you stop torturing me, - Odysseus hid his face in his arms, covering it, whispering curses and prayers.

The surf seemed to talk to him. But Odysseus didn't know the language it was talking in. He had no intention to talk to the sea god. He didn't care about what he has to say.

He came back to his wife's arms, coming back to have some more anxious sleep before the dawn.

The surf was slowly turning into a storm, but it couldn't wake Odysseus up anymore.

***

He didn't go sailing anymore. Their son was inviting him once or twice or more, but Odysseus wouldn't even go near the beach, let alone go to the ship. Penelope could sense that there was something more than just a phobia. He made it home, but something was broken deep inside of him. He mentioned his last encounter with Poseidon once, briefly, one night he told her that he won a battle wth the sea god before finally coming back home. Penelope was a really smart and delicate woman, she didn't have to interrogate her husband to feel the depth of his pain. She guessed that that very moment was something that changed Odysseus, something he perceived as horrible. She could constantly feel his fear. And yet she couldn't help him, she didn't know how to. She couldn't even tell what was it that he was so afraid of. At first glance, it seemed to be the fear of water. The ocean. But... no, it might be different. Penelope didn't want to push any more pressure on him, so she just decided to be near him without taking any action. Some wounds should just heal, right? By themselves.

***

Poseidon's wounds were healing slowly and reluctantly. The trident was a formidable weapon, but yet it couldn't hurt Odysseus. What a bullshit. Might be someone's divine intervention, no doubt. The god of the seas didn't ask for Apollo's help, so that he wouldn't have to listen to other Olympus inhabitants laugh. And when Hermes brought some medicine from the god of healing, all those flasks were thrown aiming him right in the head.

- My dearest uncle, you simply can't hold grudges for that long, they'd all gone sore, - the impudent god teased him, dodging with ease. Dexterous, as always.

- How dare you show up here?!

- Oh thank you, I'm glad you've noticed my audacity, - the messenger of gods gave out a little laugh. - And still. You can't be THAT mad at my great grandson. I suppose you aren't that mad for a couple of years already. I can't even imagine how you could stand being mad and furious for so long!

- Who would've thought, you're too flippant, just like Aeolus, - Poseidon spitted, wrinkling up from a sudden pain in his chest.

- Still water turns into a swamp, dear uncle. But you're never still, right? Always raging. Why didn't you kill Odysseus?

The question was so sudden and plain, it knocked the ground out of Poseidon's feet, although he never really needed it in the first place.

- You were threatening him, but never really went too far and never actually did anything to him, - Hermes was smiling cunningly, moving everything around in Poseidon's chamber.

- The fate was on your impertinent great grandson's side, - the sea god growled.

- Yeah, that's right, your son knew it long before, - Hermes chuckled, turning around on his toes. - But!

- But what?

- You were competent to find him and kill him anytime you wanted. But you were always hesitating. You wasted so much time and affort in declaring your philosophy and expressing your rage, you even killed lots of his flee, but not him. And also, - Hermes squinted his eyes and smiled really slyly. - You were the one to throw him at Calypso's. You placed him in paradise. What were you up to, master of the seas?

Poseidon wasn't famous for his temperance, so he immediately reached for his trident.

- Oopsie, gotta go! - Hermes giggled, flying out of the chambers. - You just think about all that, Uncle Poseidon~

The trident was thrown into the wall. Poseidon had no intention on thinking about anything. He didn't want to see anyone. He didn't want to know anything, to Tartarus with it all.

***

The sea is different everyday, but it always remains to be the sea. At times the water is sparkly and shiny, going from light turquoise to deep ocean blue, sometimes nearly black, and at times it's muddy and brown because of the dirt and mud being raised up from the bottom. The sea never hides it's secrets, they are just lurking down below. They are always ready to come up to the surface and be a shocking surprise to anybody. The sea was hiding lots of skeletons of the past and also lots of treasures. And it was completely ruthless.

Telemachus really loved being in the open sea and feeling the unity with this force, playing with it, making it obey or obeying himself to it, surrending to the waves. Finally, he was no longer a boy who couldn't even protect his mom. Finally, he was living his own story! And the sea was way more easy on him in this story than it's been in his father's one, although it was unexpected. Even storms seemed to just frighten him a little bit, but never really touched him or his crew. He once told his dad about it, which made dad froze up for a moment, like a statue, then his face expression's changed as if some kind of shadow layed between his eyes. Telemachus could not help but notice it although it lasted just for seconds. And then his father just chucked, returning to his usual expression - sly, but a bit tired. He said nothing regarding the situation, just told Telemachus to keep his guard up nevertheless. The son always looked up to his father, and also he was really fond of the stories about his journeys. Although dad wasn't really fond of telling them. Usually it was someone else retelling of retelling, going from one teller to another. It wasn't easy for Odysseus to tell stories about a journey where all his people and friends died.

A salty splash of water covered Telemachus face. He just laughed.

- He doesn't like sailing anymore, but I think he just needs time, - Odysseus' son smiled, looking at the waves dancing.

He was heading for places from father's stories. He was intending to make a path through the land of the Cyclops, and Odysseus knew nothing about his intentions. Telemachus didn't want his dad to have a heart attack, so he simply didn't tell him a thing.

***

His hot tongue was sliding down the wet salty skin. Sharp teeth stuck into the neck, pressing the flesh, digging in, but not biting it to blood. After a long trembling sigh the pressure on the neck went down and the tongue licked the place of the bite as if in apology.

Odysseus' body was melting in these arms like a malleable metal in Hephaestus' forge. The king of Ithaca was only able to make some fuzzy moans while hands and arms and other body parts of the sea god touched him. Everywhere. He was everywhere, just like the water. He was enshrouding and pulling him deep down. Poseidon was teasing Odysseus with his touch, claws, mouth, teeth, almost like a hungry animal. As if he wanted to devour him but couldn't. Almost suffocating, finally Odysseus found the strength to raise his arms and took the god's face into his palms, making him distance himself from his neck for once.

- Posei...don, - the mortal breathed out hoarsely.

His neck and collarbones were glowing red after all the bites, the blood could be seen in some places. It was oddly oozing up and to the sides - after all, they were underwater.

- You know this will never ever happen, right? - asked Odysseus with a light and exhausted smile, caressing Poseidon's face softly.

The god stumbled in for a second and just kissed his mortal as tough and deep as he could, leaving the question unanswered. He was drowning Odysseus in this kiss without realising that he's drowning too, with him.

Poseidon suddenly woke up right at the moment when Odysseus' hand touched his tunic between his legs. He burst his eyes wide and gave out a heavy groan, realising it was only just a dream. A damn dream. He slept a lot recently, he was still recovering. And this damn dreams... they were haunting him every time he went to sleep for quite some time already. Sometimes he was dreaming about Odysseus' life on the land, and sometimes... sometimes this. Passion, neverending mind-numbing passion. And the obedient pliable mortal who was happily giving up his body to him. Poseidon covered his face with his hand, trying to catch his breath and clear his mind.

If only Hermes didn't come here with his stupid questions. "Why didn't you kill him, why-why".

He was not interested in these dreams. It all was some kind of delusion, a bullshit. He'd forget about it once he recovered. Maybe he's been alone for too long. Maybe there's a point to seek some pleasures outside the sea? No, the only thought of it made him sick.

He had to get rid of these dreams and thoughts. One of the supreme deities surely had much more important stuff to do.

Feeling dizzy, Poseidon layed back down in his bed. He rolled around and closed his eyes. He would never in his life admit it, but he was trying to recreate the sensations he had in that dream. Odysseus' skin, Odysseus' scent. Why wasn't he stabbing him again in these dreams? Why was this mortal making him feel the indelible shame again and again?

- Odysseus, - the god mumbled, hiding his face in sea satin and nacreous sheets.

Nobody could see him in his private chamber, nobody could even visit him cause he himself strictly forbade it. He didn't want to see anyone. And no one would see him as he was right now.

Pathetic, wounded, vulnerable, just like a mortal.

Slowly falling back to sleep the sea god was hoping in the very depth of his heart that he'd dream of the king of Ithaca again.

to be continued

[screamforyani]

sextape

warnings: smut, fluff, non-gf!au, oral (f receiving), no actual recording in spite of what the title implies

wc. 1.2k

you were officially going to die.

finals were coming up any day now and you’d spent the past couple of days drowning in homework and studying. there was currently no sunlight entering your room, merely the golden-yellowish hue of your lamp as you hurched over your desk, and you no longer felt human. you felt like a zombie. or something that subsisted solely on caffeine and energy drinks.

you jolted when ethan entering your room, but let out a relieved breath when you realized it was just him. he winced. “sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you. did i scare you? i probably scared you.”

you giggled, waving him off. “it’s fine, babe.”

“okay, cool,” ethan said, smiling sheepishly. then, he noticed the music playing from your speakers. “oh, hey. i like this song.”

you glanced over at your speakers, having completely tuned out the sound of the music, until you seemed to finally notice the deftones song playing in the background. “oh, yeah,” you hummed. “it helps me concentrate.”

“songs about sex help you concentrate?” ethan asked, a playful grin on his lips. he almost sounded teasing. 

you rolled your eyes. “it doesn’t matter what the songs about if i’m gonna tune it out anyways.”

“oh,” ethan hummed, seeming to understand. he closed your door behind himself, approaching your desk where you were sitting. “can i help you concentrate?”

“ethan, please,” you grumbled, already seeing where this was going. “all you’re gonna do is distract me.”

ethan kissed your cheek. “would that be all so bad?”

“yes,” you insisted, though when ethan wrapped his arms around your shoulders from behind your chair, you were more than a little tempted to forget the computer and heap of textbooks in front of you. god, he was such a distraction. a great one, actually, at a really awful time. “because you should be studying, too. we have to take the same exam in a week.”

“but you’ve been studying every day for two weeks straight. you need to take a break before you drive yourself crazy. all that thinking isn’t good for your pretty little head,” ethan groaned. his words simultaneously made you chortle and roll your eyes. “and besides, this song really reminds me of you.”

you mocked, “songs about sex remind you of me?”

“maybe,” ethan mumbled.

you spun around in your chair to face your boyfriend, officially distracted (with only him to blame), solely to see his dumb handsome face. you teased, “you’re really cute, you know?”

ethan immediately burst into a grin at the compliment. “you’re cuter.”

“i look like death.”

“maybe i like death.”

you were expecting him to deny it, to insist you were his cute, beautiful girlfriend like he often did, so that response caught you completely off-guard and you snorted. “you’re so weird.”

“you love me,” ethan said, beaming from ear to ear. 

you huffed, “who said that?”

“you.”

“no, i didn’t,” you denied, in spite of knowing it was far from the truth. in your head, memories of late nights spent on the phone with your boyfriend lingered on repeat. the hours ticking close to dawn and the daylight sneaking up on you as you both finally tried to get off the phone and go to bed, though not before issuing another i love you battle. which usually ended in one of you hanging up a billion years later after saying ‘i love you’ in order to get the last word.

“say it,” ethan urged, poking your arm. “say you love me. please?”

with those pretty brown eyes of his, it was impossible to say no. and it was equally impossible to lie to someone who had stolen your heart with those same pair of devilishly beautiful eyes. “i love you so much, ethan.”

“i know,” ethan replied with a giggle. 

and then he kissed you.

you didn’t know how it escalated. one second, you were kissing each other breathless in that chair, and the very next, you were essentially naked on your bed with ethan’s head between your thighs.

“fuck, ethan,” you moaned, tangling your fingers through his dark brown locks of hair. 

ethan loved the feeling of your hands tugging at his hair. he also loved hearing you calling out his name in pleasure, and the taste of you, and how you writhed from sensitivity.

the ocean takes me into watch you shaking

he had already made you cum once by now, but that was ethan. he never wanted to stop making you feel good, never wanted to stop pleasing you. he could eat you out for hours, just because he loved the look of bliss on your face and the euphoria in your shrill, high-pitched cries of his name.

“it’s… it’s too much,” you said, squeezing your eyes closed. your thighs tried to close, too, but ethan’s big hands held them firmly apart. 

“just one more time, baby. please?” he asked, looking at you with those big, brown eyes. “for me?”

fuck, he was irresistible. all you could do was nod your head, whimpering when he smiled and dipped back between your legs.

take me one more time

take me one more wave

take me for one last ride

you were so close to finishing. your second orgasm was right there in arm’s reach, dangled right in front of you, and your body was so sensitive that it couldn’t decide if it was running from its fate or if it wanted more.

moments later, you were cumming, crying out ethan’s name quite loudly (thank god your roommate wasn’t home and wouldn’t be for a while) and you trembled with orgasm, grabbing onto his hair as your vision clouded white for a while. ethan continued to suck at your clit through your high, and it drove you positively insane, all the stress fleeing from your body in numbers.

“holy fucking shit,” you panted when you came down from your high. 

holy fucking shit was right. ethan pulled back from you, lips covered in your arousal. you watched him lick it from the corners of his mouth and the sight drove you absolutely feral. 

“did i do okay?” ethan asked, glancing over at you with doe eyes.

you didn’t answer him, not verbally, just leaping up and swallowing his lips in another kiss. it was heated and passionate, and full of loving, and god was it lustful. it wasn’t long before you were throwing his shirt from above his head and he was holding your thigh as he thrusted inside you. 

the intrusion made both of you moan each other’s name, the pleasure building the deeper he went inside of you, filling you to the hilt. the heat throttled you both, making it harder to breathe, but you didn’t need to breathe as long as you had ethan - as long as you could feel his body on yours.

both of you were skin-on-skin, ethan leaning into you and pressing kisses to your neck and collarbone whilst you threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged just the way you knew he loved it. the room filled with the sound of your soft moans and your hips meeting together in perfect harmony.

the sound of the waves collide

the sound of the waves collide

the sound of the waves collide

tonight

[written-in-flowers]

Dying Twice: Thanos x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Thanos / Choi Subong x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, smut

Word Count: 5k

Summary: "The heart no longer races when hearing the music play, tryna pull up. Seems like time has stopped. Oh, that would be my first death I been always afraid of" - BTS "Black Swan"

Or you should be scared to play the games, but what is the point in fear if you've already died once? What else is there?

Tags: k-rapper!reader, angst, mentions of drug use, drug use, mentions of partying, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, dom/sub undertones (if you look closely), slight choking.

****

You really landed yourself in a bind this time. As if getting scammed and having to scrape to get by, you sunk low enough to end up here…wherever here was. You still couldn't figure out what kind of place the masked men brought you to. In colors of sickening pink and eye sore yellow, the maze of stairs reminded you of a painting you'd seen. The stairs went up and down and side to side. They went upside-down and sideways. Like with that, you had trouble gauging the path to your destination. Perhaps that didn't matter. You followed the rest of the players through the maze guarded by masked men. They said you'd be playing games for a cash prize. It sounded too good to be true…

But you couldn't pass it up. 

Standing in line to have your photo taken, someone tapped your shoulder. You turned to see a young woman with a short ponytail standing with an excited smile on her face. A pang of dread hit you when you recognized the signs.

“You're B.Kat,” she beamed, getting a better look at your face. “From The Rap Battleground. I've listened to all your songs, and went to your shows! Oh my god, this is so cool! I love your music!”

“Yeah, thanks.” 

“I saw you at The Rap Battleground,” she continued, “When they paired you up with that one rapper.”

“Sik-k,” you said. 

“Yeah, and you burned him so bad,” she laughed. “Oh my god! ‘tell these boys to get back, don't they know I'm fucking S-class’” she repeated, mirroring your gestures. “Ah, this is so sick! I always wondered what happened to you after your last album.”

Everything went downhill, that's what. You'd trusted Nico to manage your money, and instead he embezzled it. You’d given him everything: your heart, your body and soul. The trust the both of you shared went beyond lovers. Hearts beating like one, you swore your souls meshed together the night you met. They’d imprinted and became one form instead of two separate ones. The day you found out what he’d done, your heart physically ached. The threads keeping you together pulled and snapped, the metaphorical red threads falling to the ground. That thread might have never existed to begin with. Nico went to prison but you'd lost everything. All the money you made with your music suddenly disappeared overnight. You tried rebuilding your career, but being a woman in a male dominated industry was rough. Not many producers took you seriously. You’d even been snubbed at Battle, where the judges chose a man over you despite what audiences believed. It didn’t matter how masculine you tried being, you’d never fit in with them. 

“Hey, can I get a picture?” she asked excitedly. “Please?”

“Yeah, me too!” A man nearby overheard and jumped into line with you. “You and Thanos are my favorite rappers. You're both lyrical geniuses.”

“And me!” said another woman, coming over to you. “And can I get your autograph?”

“Um, look, I-”

“-Now, now, everyone. Let's not crowd B.Kat like this.”

You recognized him right away. Long brown hair slicked back from his face, his jacket read ‘124’. Funny, you thought, you were 126. The club manager from Club Pentagon, Namgyu. You remembered the smooth way he'd integrated himself in your inner circle that first night. He'd come bearing drugs and free alcohol that you eagerly accepted. Smooth talking and flirty, you hadn't minded his advances since he’d been before Nico. 

“You can all take a photo with her and Thanos,” he said to the group. 

He gestured over to a man with spiky purple hair. Thanos. A cold sweat went over you seeing him in person. The last time you’d seen him, you both were panting and bottomless in the Battle dressing room. A part of you shivered recalling how his hands felt on your body back then. In that dressing room, he’d pressed on every weak spot as if he’d already known. He’d worked you easily, driving you crazy and nearly begging for him to enter you. When he finally did, it was better than any high you’d ever had before. You sometimes thought he’d been better than Nico. 

“Wassup, Senorita?” he said, and you almost laughed from his cringey opener. “I haven't seen you since Battleground.”

“I've been around,” you lied. 

“Let's take a photo with our fans,” he said to the delight of the group. “A real artist doesn't deny their fans.”

Before you could reject the offer, Thanos and Namgyu pulled you to the camera station next. It reminded you of times that pulled at your broken heart. The fans who used to come to every single show regardless of location; the ones who posted about you on their social media and streamed your music. You didn’t care about the fame they brought, but the acceptance and energy. When you stood behind your microphone, you were home. You could breathe amongst them. Nowadays, you can hardly bear it. Your last album disappointed a lot of people; they said it sounded too manufactured and not like your old sound. You’d gotten a ghostwriter to help you, and that itself was a disaster. The group of followers circled around you for the photo before a masked man stopped you. 

“It's only one photo!” said the first woman told the guard. “You took our phones so we can't take the photos ourselves!”

“Don't you know who they are?” asked the man. “This is B.Kat and Thanos. You know, the rappers?”

“It's not allowed,” the masked soldier said again, crossing his arms in an X symbol. 

The group groaned in disappointment, but Thanos turned to them. “Tell you what. When we get out of here, B.Kat and I will take photos with all of you.”

“Or just with you,” you said. 

“We might even do a friendly rap battle, eh?” he teased you with a nudge. 

“Ooh yeah!” The group cheered, excited by the prospect. 

“I don't think so-”

“-Please step aside,” said the masked man, “And take your individual photos.”

You were the first to obey. However, they weren't done with you. Thanos came up beside you. 

“You know, it’s not cool to snub your fans like that,” he said in matter-of-factly tone. “People will start thinking you’re a snotty person.”

“I don’t have fans anymore,” you replied, not meeting his eyes. 

“You have plenty,” he reasoned, gesturing to the people behind you. “Like, who were those people then? Paid fans?” When you did not answer, he said, “Where’ve you been, B? You haven’t been in the game for a while.”

“I retired.”

He scoffed, “You can’t retire. You’re too young to retire.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Just wasn’t feeling it anymore.”  

You missed it. You missed being on stage performing for a crowd of people, just feeding off one another's energy. In the dark rooms and dim lights you could release everything laying inside you. You could be another person. But, then it stopped. The music that used to flow out of you felt stuck and dry. It no longer brought the same excitement as before. Every time you thought about stepping on stage, shame came and drove you away. You sat in your room for ages trying to write lyrics or music, but it didn’t happen. The worst thing that could happen did happen: you’d lost your passion. 

“That's a shame,” he said. “I liked your music. I enjoy your flow better. You have a lot of control, so you're precise but still spitting like crazy. Like,” he chuckled, “‘This ain’t a movie, wake up. You’ve lost your sense of reality. Fall away far from here.’ It flows so well. I hoped to hear more after that album of yours.”

You didn’t want to talk about your album. Nico’s betrayal hurt enough without adding your stupid decision to it. “Thanks.”

You all walked into an open roof room. Nothing in it but sand and a large animatronic doll at the end of the room. A female voice explained the rules as Red Light, Green Light. 

“We're playing Red Light, Green Light?” Thanos scoffed when it was announced. “This will be a cake walk.”

“I don’t think so,” you said, eyeing the doll at the end by the tree. An ominous feeling crept inside your bones, stiffening them as you walked. 

“Why?”

“That’s too easy. There must be a catch.” You searched the room for the answer, but you saw nothing unusual. “They wouldn’t give a bunch of broke people a chance at money without there being some challenge to this.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“Maybe.”

You felt him stand closer to you. “Don’t worry, B,” he said, winking, “I’ll protect you.”

You somehow doubted that. When the game finally started, your suspicions were proven right. A man-Player 456-told you that the doll was a motion detector and if you moved, they’d shoot you. Nobody believed him the first time, scoffing and laughing at him. 

“He’s like my old man when he comes home drunk,” Thanos said with a smirk, “Just spitting nonsense.” 

“He’s not drunk.”

“What do you mean? Look at him.” 

When the doll called out a second and third time, the true catch was revealed. Bullets came flying from different directions, piercing through people that moved even a smidge. Hot blood sprayed on your face as the man in front of you got a bullet to the head. You could taste the droplets near your mouth, and the stench of blood stuck to your nostrils. Staring down, you realized you’d never seen a dead body before. Not even at a funeral. The man, pot-bellied and bald, laid lifeless at your feet. When it came time to move, you stepped around him and kept going until you reached the end. More people around you and Thanos dropped to the ground. You turned to see your own horror mirrored in his eyes. 

The game ended, and you stared at the field of bodies left on the ground. You wondered what you’d gotten yourself into for real. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t real. It’s a nightmare that you’d wake up from any second. Yet, as you walked on shaky legs back to the dorm, the blood you wiped from your face made everything real. Nobody spoke as you entered the dorm. You walked right to your bunk in the far corner, visions of the dead still clouding your mind. How could they do that? They’d shot those people so easily. What kind of person came up with “games” like this?

“This shit is crazy, man.” Thanos took the bed beside yours, shocked and confused. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, hugging your sides. “I…Those people…It’s…”

Neither of you spoke for a while. You saw the same horrified expressions on the other players. It was the small click that broke you from your thoughts. Thanos had retrieved a large cross from under his shirt and opened it to reveal several different colored pills. Nico used to have a vial of cocaine he kept on him at all times. He always shared it with you. He said he’d do it with nobody else. You wonder now how true that was. 

“Want one?” Thanos offered the cross to you, chewing down on one of them. “It’s crazy good, man. Like nothing I’ve done before.” 

“No, thanks.”

“Come on, I know you pop too. We did it together that night.”

“No.” 

He closed the cross, and finished chewing. “Your last album was shit,” he said out of nowhere, still watching the rest of the group. “Who wrote the music? Nico?”

No point denying it. “This guy named Huey.”

“You used to write your own verses. I saw you doing it during Battleground. What happened?”

“It stopped coming to me.”

“You thought getting a ghostwriter would make it easier?” 

“I needed to make money.

“And lose all your cred in the process?”

“I didn’t think the difference would be that noticeable.”

“Psh, well, it fucking was. Everybody was talking about it. They said you’d finally sold out.”

“I know what they were saying.”

“People already thought a girl rapper was a joke,” he said, “And right when you were showing people you were the real deal, you-”

“-Keep talking and I’ll shove that cross down your fucking throat,” you snapped. “I already know all that. You think I don’t know it? I’ve known since before Battleground when they picked that clown J.D. over me. I heard the shit those fuckers said behind my back: that they thought I was somebody’s girlfriend when they saw me and how I’d make a better groupie than a rapper. I don’t need a pill popper telling me how I fucked up my career. My boyfriend taking my money is already embarrassing enough.” 

“Nico took your money?” This made him turn his head. 

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” he huffed. “That’s ten times more fucked up. At least the guy who scammed me didn’t know me.” 

“Who scammed you?”

“MG Coin,” he scowled, “He told us to invest in this coin and we’d be billionaires. Then the guys who made the coin took all of the money and ran.” He stared into the crowd, “And now he’s here.”

“He is?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna get my money back from him one way or another.”

“Me too!” Namgyu appeared hanging from a bunk above you both. 

“Namsu-”

“-Namgyu-” he corrected Thanos.

“Yeah, Namgyu and I bonded over our shared misfortune,” Thanos said. “We’re gonna get our money back from him. All of it.”

“In order for him to pay you back, he’s got to be the sole winner,” you said, “And in order to be the sole winner, we’d have to be dead.”

“I ain’t dying,” he scoffed, “And neither are you.”

“I already did, so it doesn’t matter.”

Your chest tightened whenever you thought about it. The last time you’d held your notebook, you’d stared at the pages until you gave up. When you last heard one of your songs, you felt nothing. A part of you, you felt, had died. The excitement that used to come out of you no longer existed. It was your first death. Dying in these stupid games would only be a second one. 

“Pill?” He offered his cross a second time, seeing your watering eyes. 

You took a red one without hesitation this time. Crushing it between your teeth, you knew the chalky substance would sink into your bloodstream and you’d forget about it. 

“Can I get one?” Namgyu asked eagerly, trying to get closer to him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Thanos said as if he weren’t already tucking the cross away. 

The masked men returned to the room, and everyone gathered in the center. They told you the new accumulated amount, then for a vote. People could vote to either keep the games going or stop them and leave with a share of what’s left. Seeing the amount left, you knew what choice you needed to make. 

“That would barely put a dent in my debt,” you said out loud to yourself. 

“Same,” said Thanos. You saw the drug starting to take over him with his restless body. “So, it looks like we’re going back into the fray together, B!” 

“Looks like it.”

As expected, even with the amount of bloodshed they’d witnessed, most people picked to continue the games. You heard some people say ‘just one more game can cover my debt’. That depended on how many people died in the next game. As the drug starts running in your veins, you let yourself get lost in the euphoria. 

Hey, if you’re going to die a second time, you’d enjoy the time while you could. 

****

“Fuck, you taste good.”

His tongue swirled and dipped carefully over the hard nub and hood. Your nails dug into his hair, purple hair tangling between your fingers. 

“Better than anything I’ve had before.” 

A slight rush of cold on your side pulled you from the hazy dream. 

“That’s a good girl…Yeah, just like that…You look so pretty like this…Can we just stay here? You feel so fucking good, baby. I don’t want to stop.”

His hands and lips were fire on your skin. His length sunk deep in every thrust, stretching and filling you. Your hands slipped into the dark purple spikes of his hair, scratching his scalp as you tugged on it out of habit. He kept you pinned with his body as he slowly rocked his hips to yours. 

“Subong…”

His body came first. He slowly uncurled you from your sideways position for more access to you. A pair of lips started pecking your neck, starting at your shoulder before reaching the curve at the base. Your mind stayed in between dreams and reality, unable to register what was really going on. Soft breaths buried themselves in your hair, while two hands went around your middle. 

He withdrew just to rub against your clit. His girth pushed your swollen lips apart, sliding over the sensitive nub before slipping back into your entrance. You didn’t think Subong would be any good, but here he was driving you crazy. 

“I was that good, huh?” his voice filled your ear, pulling you from your wet dreams. “So good you dream about it?” You responded with a weary whine. “You sounded so sweet whimpering my name just now. You should do it again.” 

You whined at the hands toying with your nipples. His fingers whirled slowly around the softness to stimulate them, which wasn’t hard to do. That familiar tightness built between your thighs. It had been a long time since anyone coaxed this feeling out of you. You reached around through Thanos’s arms, grabbing the nape of his neck to touch as much as you could. He grinded into you, his hardness poking against your ass each time and causing him to groan. Whether it was the pills or you really had talked in your sleep, you didn’t care. You didn’t want him to stop. 

“Open your legs,” he whispered, turning your head to draw you in for a kiss. His tongue slipped over yours in the deep kiss, passionate like the first time. He explored your mouth with his tongue before ending it with a few soft pecks. “Let me see how wet you’ve gotten.” 

You let him slip off your sweatpants to reveal the plain cotton underwear. Rubbing your thighs together, you knew there must be a small wet patch already there. You got confirmation when three fingers rubbed over it, and he groaned. 

“It must’ve been a nice dream if you’re this wet already,” he said, lightly dotting kisses on your neck. “I remember how wet you got for me in that dressing room. It was running down your thighs when I started fucking you. You remember that, don’t you, baby? You remember how sticky and sloppy your pussy was before I railed you?”

“Ye-yes…” You let go of his hair to feel down his body to his center. He quivered at your touch, breathing heavily as you reached the bulge pressing to you. “I remember how hard you were by the time I put you in my mouth.” 

“Best blowjob I ever had,” said Thanos, pushing into your hand as he spread your wetness through your panties. “I got so jealous when I heard you started dating someone. I would’ve treated you a billion times better than him,” he traced his tongue along your ear, “And fucked you as much as you wanted.” 

“Why do I believe that?” you giggled, giving his cock a squeeze. 

Thanos chuckled as he turned your head to kiss you. His tongue instantly darting into your mouth, your arousal grew feeling him harden in your hand. Not particularly big, you knew he’d make you see stars by the time you finished. You slid over the hard tip before teasing the sensitive underside. You couldn’t stop thinking about him inside you. His thickness pulsing and twitching in his boxers brought memories of how perfectly he’d filled you that night. Nico wasn’t very big, but Thano’s was the perfect length. 

He’d also gone longer. 

Soon, Thanos pushed through your panties, and a rush of cold air made you tremble. Two fingers holding your swollen lips open, a third one flicked over your clitoris. You flinched at the single swipe, earning light chuckles before he did it a second time. The tip of his finger rolling around it, you put your hand in his boxers to feel his hot, hard cock on your fingers. A light trickle of precum became the lube you used to coat his tip. The squishy bulb leaked into your palm in every stroke, and his low moans filled your ear. You sensed his need beginning to build with yours, making you stroke him more. 

“Pl-please,” you whimpered, eyes closing and back arching as he teased your entrance with two fingers. “Please…”

“You’ll get it soon, baby,” Thanos promised, free hand sliding up to your throat where he held in your place. “You’ll get it really soon. Be a good girl and be quiet for me. We wouldn’t want to wake anyone else up.” 

Your leg going back over his, Thanos pinned it down with his arm. Volume really should be a concern, but the overwhelming pleasure overcame that sense. You squirmed in his hold while he teased you. Spreading your juices around, you heard the faint slick sounds in every move. It was when he slipped the fingers inside that your thighs closed, trapping his hand there. 

“No, no, no,” he said, pulling your thigh back up, “You’re keeping these open for me.” 

“Subong,” you whined quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He sunk them deep, wriggling the tips around as he curled them. “How can I touch you if they’re closed? You have to keep them open if you want me to make you feel good,” he continued, seeing you moan and writhe from his touches, “Just turn your brain off, and let me take care of you.”

His palm tapping your clit made your thighs and legs tremble. Your back arched against him as your hips moved into his hand. They reached right to your g-spot like they’d done the first time. You recalled everyone having gone home, but you’d stayed to keep rehearsing in your dressing room. He’d come innocently, wanting to talk about music and songwriting, but then it became less innocent. The thought it might’ve been a bet between the men came to you, yet it had been a while and you thought he was cute. It’d been by luck that nobody knew about what you two had done in the dressing room. 

“You hear that?” He asked, as he fingered you quickly. He made sure you heard the squishing sounds of your sex gripping his fingers. “That’s all you, sweetie. That’s the sound of your sweet pussy drenched and wet.”

Your body shivered as he went deeper and faster, the sensation crippling you. The deep, tongue-clashing kiss you then shared was what sent you over. Your body suddenly became sensitive to his touch. Muscles tensing in their grasp, eyes squeezed shut as you restrain your orgasm with his mouth, you got lost in the euphoria coursing in your like a drug. 

You didn’t have a moment to process anything before the cock in your hand replaced his fingers. Thanos continued the steady pace, holding onto your thigh to keep your legs spread. You could feel him spreading you out, mixing your wetness with his own inside your pussy. Like last time, he hit your core dead center and had you grinding into him for more inches. His faint whimper at your hips whirling to his stroked your ego a bit. 

“You had sounded hot too, you know,” you moaned between kisses, keeping his hand on your pussy. 

“Oh yeah?” Thanos lifting your leg up and changing his angle slightly. 

“Yes,” you said, clenching your jaw as you suppressed more moans. “I love hearing guys moan.”

He took immediate advantage of this information. Lips to your ear, his groans tickled the edges. Hearing it out loud, even in the quiet room, lets you imagine all the pleasure he must be experiencing because of you. Your walls dragged across his cock in each thrust, and you purposefully clenched them to make yourself tighter for him. Thanos drew closer as he lifted your thigh upwards, holding you by your ass instead as he thrusted faster. It showed in the way he gripped your body close to him, wanting to touch more of you. You thanked God you didn’t have anyone sleeping above you. 

You were jelly by the time he pulled you underneath him and forced your legs open. As you knew he would, he gently tapped and rubbed against your clit. Overstimulated but wanting more, you cupped your breasts and brushed your nipples for added pleasure. Thanos didn’t allow this. Pushing your hands aside, he pinned them to your sides as he pushed his cock inside you. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him, loving every inch he gave you in his thrusting. 

“Just as good as I remember,” he grunted in your ear, not holding back anymore. The bunk might’ve pushed into the wall if it weren’t bolted to the floor. Yet, the light smack of his hips to yours could be heard. “Best pussy I’ve ever had.”

The best dick you’d ever had, including Nico’s, though you didn’t say so out loud. Your mouth could not word the thoughts going through your head. Even back then, Thanos’s cock turned you into a senseless, incoherent mess. You could lay in that bed and take him forever. In the half glow of the dorm, you could see his shirtless body hovering over you. Dark hair hanging over his face, eyes full of lust, he’d look the same in the dressing room. 

“I'd vote X if it meant I get to have-have this,” he said in your ear, hands keeping yours to the bed as he took long strokes. “Get to have this tight pussy to myself…all the time…whenever I want…”

“Subong,” you whined, your second orgasm approaching.

“I love when you say my name,” he groaned against your shoulder, “Say it again, baby.” 

You said his name like a mantra, the word matching the pace of his hips. You noticed he went particularly hard the times you whined his name instead. He released your wrists and knelt up, lifting your hips from the bed. In this new, elevated position, you could only grind on him as he pumped himself inside you. His muscles constricted from the hold his orgasm and position had on him. As your walls squeezed him, his head fell back, eyes closed and mouth open in every quiet moan he forced back. You reached out for him, grabbing his forearms and keeping him close this way. Trembling in his hold, Thanos sensed your next orgasm and chased it down. 

He stuck two fingers in your mouth right as you came around him. Moans muffled by the digits pushing down on your tongue, occasionally pushing to your throat. You forgot where you were at that moment. Pleasure and bliss washed over you in waves, crashing down in trembles and twitching. It controlled every sense in your body, keeping you going but also wearing you down. You held onto his wrist to keep his fingers in your mouth, regardless of the drool they created. Eyes locked on one another, he didn’t tear away even when his own climax approached. Something deeper happened in that moment that had nothing to do with him cumming inside you. Legs hooked around his waist, you kept him close as he emptied the last few drops into your cunt. 

“Fuck,” he huffed, settled between your legs and head on your shoulder, “Fucking amazing.”

“Very.”

This is where you expected him to roll over, mutter a goodbye, and start heading back to his bunk. He didn’t. Thanos did lay beside you in the bed, but he didn’t leave. You didn’t mind. It felt nice having someone next to you again. Perhaps you’d let him come back tomorrow night just to have the closeness. Feeling his cum starting to leak from you, you knew you should do something about it, but why? You might not make it out of this place. What did it matter if anything came from this? 

“I know what you mean, by the way,” he said in the quietness of the dorm. 

“About what?”

“Dying twice.” 

The stab wound in your heart reopened at his words. “I was standing on the bridge when that ddjaki guy came up to me,” he said. “I thought about ending it all. Who was I without my music? Okay, the money thing really affected me too, but not like how losing my passion did. It felt hard to make anything. Putting words to my feelings was hard, and it didn’t give me the same excitement it used to. It was like I’d already died, so big deal if I fell from the bridge?”

The confession surprised you. Thanos never struck you as the type to have that mindset. But, as you turned to look at him, you realized you weren’t talking to Thanos, the cocky rapper. You were seeing Choi Subong, a man who once had passions and dreams that became shattered in a single second. A lot like you. Snuggling to him, you put your head on his shoulder as he put an arm around you. You pictured him standing on the edge of the bridge, looking down at the water and contemplating everything that happened to him. He’d lost the lifestyle he worked so hard to achieve, and going back to the bottom was rough. 

“But, we’re both good rappers,” he said, “Maybe if we win this, we’ll get our money and our passion back.”

“And if we lose?”

“We’ll be dead and nothing will matter. So, that’s why I’m playing like I’m going to die anyways. If you play like that, you’re not scared.”

“Being high for most of it helps too,” you sneered, hand finding the cross laying nearby. 

“It does,” he chuckled. “Want one?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. 

Why did it matter? You’d already died once. Dying a second time wouldn’t be so bad. 

****

A/N: haha love that my first squid game fic is for Thanos. I have others on the way, but hope you enjoyed my first!

[committingcrimes-2047]

WRITERS BLOCK, FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!

Warwick Vander x reader things below!

Lets pretend this is an alternate universe where Reader, Jinx, Isha and Vi get Vander away and live in a cabin hidden away from the rest of the world while they try to find a way to save Vander without Viktors help. Also Cait comes and visits occasionally because how could I leave out my favourite lesbians.

Imagining Warwick Vander becoming super possessive of Reader, I mean, he's super protective of his family- obivously but its different with Reader.

Reader can't go five minutes without the massive "man" sniffing them out and sticking to their side, lightly growling at them to stay by his side.

He won't go to sleep unless Reader is there, laying ontop of him with his arms wrapped around their body, their presence preventing nightmares from invading his head. On the rare occasion of him being woken of from those nightmares and panicking, Reader gently petting the fur on his body to help him calm down.

Imagine if Reader was out and got hurt by something or someone and the smell of their blood immediately alerting him of something wrong and he sprints toward the smell, finding the Reader injured and bleeding. He gently picks them up, holding them with one arm while he makes his way back to the rest of the family. Whatever or whoever hurt the Reader is most likley non-existant now

He has to restrain himself from from growling at whoever has to clean them up- Reader hissing from the pain of the pressure being put on the injury. He would guard them while they recover, whether its a small wound or a big one, he would insist that they relax and stay in bed until they recover.

Reader helps him stay calm and relaxed during the day, Jinxs loud music playing while she and Isha make little gadgets together. Vi and Caitlyn training, Cait only being able to visit every few weeks so she doesn't give away their little hide out and Reader and Vander just sitting together- with Reader probably sitting on his lap and his hands wrapped around their waist. The noise of their little family normally stressing him out but Readers presence keeping him calm.

At night, Reader and him sleep in a "nest" which is pretty much just a giant pile of various blankets and pillows, since he can't really fit in any bed they can find. In the middle of the night, when Jinx has really bad nightmares, she comes in- Isha in tow, cuddling up to her parents. Vi joins in after not finding Jinx or Isha in their rooms and finding them in the pile.

Reader manages to get to get Vander to play with them and Isha, but Isha instead decides to dye some of Vanders fur the bright colors. By the end of the day, Vander is covered in bright blues, pink, random ribbons, and stickers. Reader makes sure to get lots of photos of Isha climbing all over Vander, who spent most of the time asleep.

Alright thats all my ideas- FOR NOW!!! I'm battling with writers block and its treating me like this.

I hope you guys enjoy!!! These are ideas I've come up with over the past few days while suffering from my period, normally I can do alot more writing but I've just not been feeling great with some personal stuff so its been a struggle.

Anyway, please let me know if you guys want more of these! I've opened up my asks, so if youd like to request ideas or even talk about your Arcane OCs with me! I have been considering writing about other characters but I'm not super into alot of the other characters but if people wanna see that, I'd be willing to give it a shot- either way, please let me know!

@ghostface-mp4 :D