#i think my drafts are in need of a clear out again so have a fic idea from ages ago

[bookshelf-in-progress]

There's always a danger of caring too much about a story, and then getting paralyzed by the need to do it justice, so it never gets written.

I've solved this problem in the past by writing stories so fast that I don't have time to get too invested, or writing stories that I'm not that attached to.

But maybe the trick is to love the story so much that I want to share it any way I can, even if it's imperfect. To feel that any version of this story is better than the story never getting written at all. To get out of my own way and stop worrying about what other people will think of my writing, or even what I think of my writing, and love the story for its own sake, love the readers enough to want to have the joy of sharing the story with them.

Maybe it'll work. Maybe it won't. But so far it feels like a much better approach.

[moongothic]

I want to preface this by saying that this is meant to be kind of a shitpost. I just. The thought passed my mind. I laughed at it. Thought about it again, laughed some more and I just had to get it out of my system. So here we are

So when I read the myth of Toyotama Hime I did start to wonder if it could be used as fuel for the Crocodad Fire, the myth being about Toyotama coming from Ryuugyuu Castle to give birth on land etc. And in One Piece, we do have that very castle on Fishman Island. Which isn't surprising or anything, Oda getting inspo/names from various mythologies is nothing new by a long shot, and it's unlikely you could somehow tie Crocodile to Fishman Island through that myth. Like Toyotama coming "from the ocean" could just be turned into "Crocodile coming from the sea as a pirate", doesn't have to be deeper than that

But then I thought

...Do we actually know Crocodile isn't part-merman

Like. You see--

We know half-merfolk-half-humans do keep their fishtails like full-merfolk (see Charlotte Praline), and we know that while mermaids split their tails after 30, mermen never do. So between that and us having The Most Scandalous Feet Pics of Sir Crocodile (from the jailbreak cover story), well, we know he has basic ass human feet, so we know for certain he can't be half-merman

But also

Chimney is 1/4th mermaid. The only mermaid features she inherited from her grandmother were her hair color and her being a "good swimmer". Chimney is part-mermaid, and she has human feet

Like the only thing that could debunk this idea (based on what we know about Chimney) would be if Crocodile was a shit swimmer, but he's a Devil Fruit user so of course he can't fucking swim. So we have literally nothing to prove or debunk the idea.

So like

You've heard of "Crocodile is Whitebeard's bio-son" You've heard of "Crocodile is the missing Kuja Empress" You've even heard of "Crocodile is Xebec's son".

So how about

"Crocodile is 1/4th merman"

Why the fuck not

But the funny thing is

Not only would it weirdly explain why the fuck our beloved Sand Man Who Can't Fucking Swim is named after an animal known for swimming (like OP has weird fucking names, see; Smoker, Baby 5, Monkey D. Dragon, etc. What bugs me about Crocodile is the slightly contradictatory theming, but if he was named "Crocodile" by his merfolk parents, suddenly, it kind of works)

But also like. We know Crocodile fucking Hates the Government. And to be fair, there's plenty of reasons for anyone to hate the World Government, you don't need a personal grudge to hate them.

But if he had merfolk parents (who might be stuck living on the surface because they wouldn't have been able to get their child to Fishman Island without someone essentially delivering him there, 'cause he wouldn't have been able to just SWIM there), then there's a genuinely possibility said parent(s) could've ended up getting caught and turned into slaves. And boy would that give someone A Personal Fucking Grudge Against The Government

But also, due to the in-universe discrimination against merfolk, if Crocodile was part-merman it could mean he could've been harassed for it since a young age, or worse yet, could've become a target for slavers if anybody found out. And somehow, having to hide that part about his heritage would work really well into his trust issues

Not to mention, after escaping Impel Down, Croc and Jinbei have this brief convo (that turns racist) where Croc expresses his surprise over Jinbei being able to summon fish, having thought only merfolk could do that. Of course, Croc being a seasoned pirate and all you could totally expect him to like know about mermaid legends etc, but him having no knowledge about Fishmen is a bit odd. Especially because we know he's been to the New World, so you'd think he must've gone to Fishman Island at least once before? Although, his former Shichibukai Rights probably would've allowed him to cross over the Red Line through Marijois instead of having to pass through Fishman Island, but regardless, it's odd, is it not? But if Crocodile did have merfolk parents whom he got separated from at a young age?? Maybe he learned a thing or two about that side of his family, but never enough?? And then having to hide that side of his heritage could've left him just estranged????

Also IDK if it's worth anything but in the cover stories, we were introduced to our first mermaid Camie at the tail end of Alabasta, while the Miss Goldenweek coverstory ran during Water 7 where we meet Kokoro and Chimney. IDK it's a funny coincidence

I just

Could you fucking imagine

How fucking insane would that be, if Crocodile was part-merman

[secondpersonpoetry]

hi! heard the released “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call” (which i’ve seen you’ve heard live, if i’m not mistaken!!) this morning and i don’t know if there’s really a particular vibe/dynamic/ship hrpf-wise (personally haven’t yet been able to put my finger on it) that quite relates but the lyrics have been rotating in my head all day and i was wondering if you had any thoughts? hope you have a good one! <3

OH ANON HAVE I EVER SEEN IT LIVE!!! and the second that song came out i zoomed it straight into my fic playlist and unfortunately there are so many guys this could be. right now the one that's resonating is, of course, the golden boy and his haunted ghost themselves: mcstrome.

i am thinking about connor, specifically, after the stanley cup final. that game seven. how angry he was, how loud the silence when they told him he won the conn smythe. how close he's come before and again and again lost. there's nobody else to blame but himself. he's in the empty room and he knows why (1)

at!! your best!!! you were magic!!! oh, golden boy. connor the anointed, of course. at the very beginning of his career we always knew he was something special and who wouldn't have fallen in love with him? weren't all of us a little bit dylan strome in awe of the generational talent? we were all bathed in radiant light just by being in the vicinity (2)

don't even tell 'em that you know me breaks my heart (3). in terms of building a narrative i think i've said before there is a universe where connor/dylan were together before the draft and to protect both of them, dylan breaks up with him. connor says i love you and dylan says i don't. because he doesn't, you know? he loved connor. he loved davo. he can't be in love with connor mcdavid, first overall pick of the edmonton oilers. i'd rather be hurt forever than have to watch us try to make this work and destroy us.

and after connor mcdavid left the otters, dylan strome captained them to a memorial cup win. what a haunted home, eh? to be captain of the team you and your best friend were on, only now he's left you? don't call me to tell me about your rookie season with the oilers--we both know about your broken collarbone. don't call me to tell about becoming the youngest captain in franchise history when i stepped into the shoes of your captaincy here. don't call me. (4)

narratively: dylan's the one who broke connor's heart and his own but by god it wasn't easy. we both know what happened, you went first overall. please don't make this harder on me. please don't call.

this verse can be about the weight of dylan having to live up to connor's standards and always being measured by him. i would just like to bring up the connor stepping stone chart for absolutely no reason as well (5)

we are, at long last, at the potential future of now: dylan strome, happy, smiling, thriving on the washington capitals. connor, on the oilers. i'm not yours, dylan can say. haven't been for a long time. it took some time but i made this. please don't call and ruin this for me, stay out of my life. i don't want you or need you (6)

[p.s. this took a while because when i received this ask i was a) immediately possessed to write this verse by verse breakdown i had never thought of before and then b) immediately plagued by the idea of making you a little graphic (above the read more) and finally got to do it after banging out all the actual lyric thoughts two (?) weeks ago. emerging two and a half hours later from the fugue state of GIMP with 37 layers in this bad boy hope you enjoy!!!]

[icewindandboringhorror]

Well! I started remodeling the house sooo long ago (original post of it back in 2018), then got distracted and forgot it in the closet for a long time, ignored it on and off, etc... Then, finally finished the house in 2022. THEN, I forgot about the pictures I took of it in 2022, and am now posting them in 2024.. A good example of how the timeline of my side craft projects usually go lol

But, at least I do have the photos now, so... finally sharing them ! 

I just used a blue sheet as a 'sky' and a green sweater with some fake flowers on it to try to look like it was on grass lol...

(more images under the readmore)

The bedroom-

The library/potion room -

The living room area-

Then the little kitchen

The pictures are not very good, but these are the best I could find? I filmed a video of me working on the whole thing (who knows when that will be out..if it took me TWO years just to post the photos lol), so I think while I was taking the pictures, I was thinking “eh, they don’t have to be great, since I’ll show it in more detail in the video :3″, but now I kind of regret not having more actual detail shots or anything.

(sidenote: I'm pretty sure I've posted better pictures of some of the individual rooms before though too? sometime before I had added the finishing touches but when they were basically done and looked almost the same as these. so maybe it's okay that these are kind of bad lol)

I think progress on it also stalled a bit due to the pandemic starting, since like 90% of the stuff in here is random things I found at the bins (giant goodwill donation center where you dig through tubs of various items all thrown together), so once I couldn’t go out to the bins anymore, I lost my method of hunting for new items, and just had to work with whatever scraps I already had or could make myself with very few materials/tools.  The bins is a really large and always crowded place, so it's still not safe for me to go with current community transmission levels lol... who knows when I shall be able to use it to get dirt cheap crafting supplies ever again.. T o T

ANYWAY! It was a fun little project, even though of course it's a little rough around the edges and not exactly as I'd envisioned lol. As usual, I always enjoy the MAKING of things the most, yet then have no idea what to do with the finished project, since the process is what's enjoyable to me.

I think I'm going to take all the glued down furniture out of it and then repaint it, then maybe donate the base house back to the same thrift store I found it at. Like completing some sort of crafting circle of life or something lol

slowly making some progress on the doll house I’m trying to remodel! 

[taeyongdoyoung]

hide and seek

summary: your best friend chan finds you've been fantasizing about him and decides to turn those ideas into reality... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: *cracks knuckles* cnc/primal play, wolf/bunny roleplay, mention of safewords, traffic lights system (yellow used), hide and seek, mentions of pee, chasing scenario, blowjob mouthfucking, hair-grabbing, degradation, leg cramping, knees hurting, kinda realistic, unprotected sex, missionary but he holds reader down, pet names, daddy kink (like once), breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: this will be the first part in a series, i haven't decided yet how many parts, maybe three? stay tuned if you're interested 🤍 part two & part three word count: 2.5k

Chan simply asks you if he can use your laptop while you’re having a shower since his battery died and he really needs to check something work-related real quick. After doing so, he can’t help but notice the recently opened pages. He doesn’t mean to pry, really. But it’s right there. And a quick look into his best friend’s mind couldn’t hurt…could it?

He is immediately captivated by this story you’ve apparently written and keep hidden in the drafts of your blog. It’s so…sexy and unlike anything you’ve ever talked to him about.

“Dumb little bunny, thinking you can get away from me,” the big bad wolf growls in the bunny’s ear.

The bunny whimpers helplessly, trying to escape the wolf’s strong grasp but to no avail.

The wolf takes the bunny from behind mercilessly, biting her neck and using her to please his needs...

What comes at the end of the story is what shocks him the most.

“Chris, please…”

Huh? Which Chris? Chris Evans? Or maybe Hemsworth? As far as he remembers, you have always been more of a Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston kinda girl but…people change, he supposes.

Until it hit him. His name is also Chris! And people do compare him to a wolf…But no, it couldn’t be…There is no way his best friend is writing stories fantasizing about him.

Unless…

He can’t imagine going on with his life without knowing the answer. So, Chan waits impatiently until you are done with your shower.

“Everything good with your work thing?” you ask him calmly once you return to your room.

“Yeah, all is good. But I found something way more interesting on your laptop,” Chan blurts out meaningfully.

The expression on your face is enough of an answer. You look completely mortified, like a true bunny that is waiting to be devoured.

“I forgot to clear my history, didn’t I?” you murmur even though you already know what Chan has seen.

“That story wasn’t about Chris Evans, was it?” Chan wants to know though he suspects what the truth is.

You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, which takes him by surprise. Gripping his hand tightly, you look so cute and pitiful. He wants to ruin you. Wait, when did those feelings show up?

“I know it was wrong, Channie, believe me. But I just couldn’t help myself, okay? Nothing else helps me get off but this fantasy. I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t end our friendship! You mean the world to me, I’m so so sorry!”

“End our friendship?” he is completely stunned by your train of thought. “Why would I? I mean, you never meant for me to see it, so I think it’s okay to have certain…fantasies. But now that I did see it, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you suggest.

“You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it. But how about I make those scenarios come to life?”

“Huh? You want to what now?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“It can’t be satisfying, dealing with all these frustrations by yourself.”

“It really isn’t…” you confess.

“Then, let me take care of you. That’s what friends are for, right?” Chan chuckles.

“Let me get this straight, you wanna re-enact my freaky fantasies while still staying friends?”

“Um, sure, why not?”

You would be a fool to agree. This could mess up everything. But you would be an even bigger fool to reject his tempting offer.

“I’m in.”

“Great! Then, should we discuss boundaries and safewords and stuff?”

“No boundaries, no safewords, you can do whatever you like to me, I don’t care.”

“This isn’t right. What if I want to use a safeword?”

Oh. That thought never crossed your mind but perhaps it should have.

“How about this…if I want a scene to end, I’ll say red. I know you said you don’t need one, but just in case, feel free to use it. If we want to just pause for a bit, then yellow. Green is good to go. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Chan. I mean, uhhh…do you want me call you something specific?”

“Whatever you like, babygirl,” he reassures you and pats your cheek. “Do you want to give this a try rightaway? Unless you’ve got other plans…”

“No way, let’s do this!” you practically jump at the opportunity.

“Alright. I’ll give you one minute to hide anywhere in this house. After that, I can do whatever I like to you.”

His words make you so thrilled that your heart threatens to escape from your chest because it’s beating louder than ever.

“If you find me,” you tease.

“Oh, I will,” Chan swears. “Now, run.”

You sprint out of your room and down the stairs, as he starts the countdown.

“Sixty…fifty-nine…”

Where should you hide? The living room doesn’t have any good hiding spots and neither does the kitchen. Under the table is too obvious. Your room would have been a good option but Chan is currently there, so it’s out of the question. The bathroom is right next to it, so once again, not a great idea. Then, it hits you. The basement! You don’t remember ever showing it to Chan so it will take him more time to think of it. You go through the door and run down another set of stairs leading to the basement. You see the perfect spot. A vintage wooden chest that just happens to be empty and is big enough to fit you if you squeeze in.

Okay, maybe not comfortable but you can survive in there for a couple of minutes. Once you’ve tucked yourself inside and closed the lid, you are suddenly hoping that Chan finds you quickly. Whatever he does to you can’t be worse than this tiny space. You didn’t know you had claustrophobia but in this very moment, you do. You can’t hear him from down here so you imagine he is looking through the other rooms first. After what feels like eternity, you finally hear steps. You are grateful that you recently peed before getting in the shower because the current situation would have undoubtedly made you wet your pants. As the steps approach, you begin to worry. What if it isn’t Chan? What if you’d forgotten to lock the door and now a complete stranger comes in to take advantage of you? No, these thoughts are irrational and make you want to use the bathroom. Ugh.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to come out and I’ll go easy on you.”

Chan’s voice both comforts you and freaks you out even more. You’re not coming out, alright. This spot was great! He can do whatever he wants to you.

“Three…two…one,” Chan finishes counting and opens the chest’s lid.

You look up at him, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He pulls you out of it roughly.

“Last chance. Run.”

But then, you realize you were squeezed into that tiny space for so long that your leg had cramped up. You can’t possibly run right now.

“Um, sorry but yellow,” you feel like an idiot. You had said you don’t need a safeword and yet…

“What’s wrong?” Chan’s threatening gaze immediately softens and he rubs your elbow gently.

“I didn’t think I’d get a leg cramp in this freaking box,” you admit, ashamed of yourself as you shake your legs in an attempt to relax muscles.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan coos at you and helps you massage your leg. “Wanna call it a day?”

“Hell nah. Just, no more running, please.”

“Sure, that’s fine by me.”

“Sorry for ruining the mood.”

Chan shakes his head.

“You could never.”

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” you assure him.

���Scene?”

“Scene.”

“Did you really think you can escape me? Dumb little bunny…” Chan tsks at you and you feel your knees giving out. You need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

“Please, don’t hurt me, Mr. Wolf,” you plead with him even though every cell in your being would be glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve locked your door to keep me out.”

If you tell him that you want him inside would it be too out of character for a scared bunny?

“I’ll do anything,” you promise crying. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“You’ll do anything regardless,” Chan smirks devilishly and grabs your hair harshly, pushing you to your knees. With his free hand, he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his cock out of his confines and stuffing your mouth full.

Fuck, your knees already hurt, probably because of that stupid chest but you choose to ignore the discomfort for now because this feeling of being dominated like that is too good to let go of.

“That’s it, take it like the useless cumslut you are,” Chan speaks degradingly but you’ve never been wetter before.

You wish you could say you are doing your best to give him a blowjob but the truth is you are not doing much, his hips thrusting forward aggressively, his hands gripping your hair. Your mouth is nothing but a cumdump for him. Your eyes are watering, vision is blurred. Your throat hurts too but it is nothing compared to the burning feeling in your knee. It is in that moment you realize that you didn’t discuss a signal for a situation where you can’t speak. You rack your brain for an alternative and remember that some subs opt for pinching their dom’s skin in an attempt to communicate discomfort. You really don’t want this to end but…

As you are overthinking this, you realize Chan’s already released his seed inside of your mouth and you are left with no choice but to swallow it up like the greedy cumwhore you are. Only for him, though.

His cock softens in his mouth but he doesn’t immediately pull out and only then, do you remember what you’ve been about to do.

You pinch his thigh lightly, looking up with moist, pleading eyes.

“What is it, darling?” Chan needs to know, taking a step back.

“Help me stand, please,” your voice is hoarse.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he grips your hands and leads you to sit for a while on the stupid chest responsible for your current pain. Okay, maybe, you brought this upon yourself but whatever.

“No, you were perfect, it’s just that my knees hurt. Fucking dumb wooden thing,” you grunt in frustration, punching it with your tiny fist.

Chan chuckles and strokes your hair comfortingly in complete contrast to how he was pulling it mere seconds ago. Then, he pulls you into his arms for a sweet hug.

“Sorry…I’m killing the mood again, aren’t I?” you pout.

“Not at all. Remember you’re in charge of whatever happens between us. You wanna pause, we pause. You wanna stop, we stop. I would hate myself if this doesn’t feel as good for you as it does for me.

“You feel good?”

“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d offer just anyone to fulfil their fantasies hidden in their drafts?” Chan laughs fondly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you smile at him gratefully. “I’m better now so if you’re still on board, we can continue.”

“I’m on board but let me come up with a new plan. I was thinking of fucking you doggy style but now that’s out of the question with your knee situation.”

Hearing him speak out loud what he was planning to do to you sends shivers down your spine. Damn it, maybe you should have just hidden under the table.

“How do you feel about missionary?” Chan inquires.

“Wouldn’t it be too intimate for the kind of scenario we’re doing?” you are doubtful.

“Not if I hold you down,” Chan murmurs smugly.

“Oh. Well, then…like I said, you can do whatever you like.”

“Action?”

“Action,” you confirm.

Chan wastes no time in pulling you up from your sitting position and pushing you down on the cold floor. He’s holding your wrists with one hand and undressing you with the other. Scratch that. He’s tearing your dress apart. It was never one of your faves.

“W-what are you d-doing?” you mewl at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Chan commands.

He doesn’t bother with stretching you out because he sees you’re already soaking wet for him. Instead, he forces his thick cock inside of your tiny pussy.

Only this time, your screams are real and you’re not at all pretending.

“T-too b-big, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“You can take it, bunny,” Chan says confidently.

You know that you can put an end to this with one simple word but damn, does it feel incredible to be stuffed full by your best friend’s large manhood.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. “This’ll feel so much better if you relax f’me.”

You’re trying, really. But it’s too much you feel like he’ll split you in half. Okay, maybe not a bad way to go but still.

“D-daddy, it h-hurts so m-much,” you slur mindlessly.

Wait, what did you just say?

“Daddy, huh? Easy, babybun, your wolf dad’s gonna take good care of you, I promise,” Chan’s words send you into overdrive and you come around his cock, your thighs are shaking and you’re arching your back. You can’t think anymore, you just need to be with him stuck in this moment forever. Soon enough, he releases his cum inside of your pussy.

You want to beg him to stay there for a while but you are too weak to speak.

Instead, Chan uses his fingers to push back the cum inside of your tiny pussy.

“Gotta make it stick. Will my bunny have my wolf puppies, huh?”

Oh? So, he’s that kind of guy. Well, you can’t say you mind...Besides, you’ve talked about this before and you’re on the pill so whatever he says is just for the sake of the scenario. Right?

“Was this okay?” Chan intends to find out and judging by his soft tone that is just begging to be praised you can tell that the scene is over.

“You did amazing, Chris,” you sigh wistfully and kiss his cheek.

“Better than your fantasies?”

“You have no idea.”

“So…when can we do something like this again?”

“Gee, let me have some water, at least,” you joke but your best friend (?) takes it literally and scoops you up in his arms, heading towards the stairs.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“To get you water, of course. And have a bath. And then to bed.”

Fuck. Maybe staying friends will be more complicated than you initially thought.

Once you’ve both been hydrated, washed up and dried out, you are cuddled in your bed, sharing snacks.

“Do you want to try something more extreme next week?” Chan asks casually. As if what you just did wasn’t already pretty intense.

“Um, sure? What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Kind of an outside setting. It will take some planning to make sure there aren’t other people but…it just came to mind while we were in the basement.”

“Tell me more about it,” you blink curioisly and put your hand on top of his.”

“So…how do you feel about being chased in a forest?”

To be continued…

[456-is-the-way]

A/N: Hello everyone it has been a while since I have done any sort of fanfiction. I want to try and get back in the groove for this new year. There are so many fandoms I want to write for. I want to try and get all my drafts and inbox requests cleared out by June but who knows if that will happen. Right now I will focus on them one at a time. But for now I want to focus a bit on Squid Game since the new episode just released. This will be a two part fanfiction.

PART 2 IS UP

Squid Game Masterlist

Triggers: Mention of death, Gore (part 2), smoking, alcohol use, age gap (reader is 25 , Seong is 50,) and SMUT (PART 2)

Seong Gi- Hun x Reader

Game of Hearts pt.1

Seong Gi- Hun had his heart, mind, and soul set on finding the person who currently ran the Squid Game. He needed to find not only their leader but the island he was sent to in hopes of stopping the horrid games once and for all. His first step was to find the salesman who recruited him. Gi- Hun needed a team searching everyday for signs of this recruiter, and with his money he could afford anyone he desires. That is how (Y/n) (L/n) landed an invitation from Gi- Hun to discuss a partnership. Doing his research on possible hires, her name somehow kept finding its way to the top of his list. (Y/n) (L/n) came from an international family who of course aren't exactly on the right side of the law. Gi- Hun normally would not converse with people such as this but he needed someone discreet. It is possible this foreigner may be just the thing he needed to give a different perspective, and if they were caught it wouldn't connect back to him.

Gi- Hun sat patiently waiting for (Y/n) to arrive. His leg bounced nervously as the anticipation continued to grow. He was eager to get his mission started and this was only the first step in his plan. So many doubts ran through his mind. Everything that happened, all the friends lost, and worst of all the betrayals. A gentle knock at the door instantly grabbed his attention. “You may enter.” He spoke in a monotone voice. A cricking sound echoed in the room as (Y/n) entered. Now Gi- Hun had seen many beautiful foreigners in his life but this woman took his breath away. A feeling was rekindling he never thought possible again especially with how things ended with his ex wife whom Gi- Hun used to harbor feelings for. (Y/n) was a decent height, not taller than he was. Her sharp (e/c) eyes had been the first thing that captivated him. A look someone in power gave and it made him almost fall to his knees in front of her. (Y/n) held her head high taking a seat in front of him. She crossed her legs elegantly ready for business. Suddenly his lips were dry he quickly wets them taking a breath in.

“Are you just going to sit there and sweat all over the place or talk business?” Her tone that made him hang off every word spoken.

Gi- Hun nods,” Forgive me. I am looking for someone and I believe your team has the skill set needed to help.”

“Sure, do you have a picture of this suspect? Do you want them dead or alive?” (Y/n) got straight to the point.

“No I don’t have a picture but I can describe him, maybe even draw a reference up, but I do need him alive. This man is very dangerous. I didn't plan to go into detail about him. I do think you need to know what I have been through…” Gi- Hun then goes into details about how the salesman looked and tells her the synopsis of his time in the Squid Games. In honesty he simply needed to vent to some who might listen. Like any normal person of course her facial expressions changed throughout the entire hour he spent rambling on. Just as she was about to call him a lunatic and storm out for wasting her time Gi- Hun pulled out a case of money. The sum only one could achieve if his story was true. He looked like a desperate man needing someone, anyone to believe him.

“I’m in.” Those are the words that sealed their fate.

_1 Year Later_

The first year was rough for Gi- Hun who struggled with no progress. The pressure built on his shoulders as (Y/n)’s team searched. No leads, signs, or any traces of this guy or any others recruiting for their sadistic game. He is currently lighting a cigarette leaning back in his chair. It was time for (Y/n)'s weekly update. She walked into the room. The once stone cold eyes now turn soft seeing Gi- Huns distress. It was easy to notice he was worked up, especially today because it happened to be the ‘anniversary’ of him winning the games.

(Y/n) had also opened up with Gi- Hun the older man constantly turned to her for conversation. Normally she would dismiss clients' interests in becoming more than just professional partners… However this man , using those sad puppy looks made her professional code crumble after the first 3 months. Today Gi- Hun started their normal conversation about who went where and searched what stations including all the evidence of their searches that had been submitted via picture. (Y/n) in the middle of their debriefing took a bold step behind Gi- Hun’s desk gently placing both of her soft hands on his shoulders. At first he tensed up, unsure of her movements. Little by little her hands began to move , rubbing his shoulders.

“What…why are you doing this?” His voice shakes from the amount of relaxation he was drifting into. She chuckled at his response and applied more pressure at the base of his neck earning a moan. “You are trying to kill me aren't you?”

“Gi- Hun if I wanted to kill you and take all of your money I would have done so already. But I wouldn’t ever think of doing that. After meeting you nothing feels the same… I want to meet more than once a week. I can see this is tearing you apart. You have been at this for a year… we may not have much progress… but I know destiny brought us together and it's just begun. I won’t leave your side.” She could not stop as her heart took over.

Gi- Hun is speechless gazing up into her large (e/c) eyes that sparkle in the dim light of this run down hotel. “It's dangerous, I am dangerous. All the people that were killed… I hated that I even got you involved… you are the closest friend I have made in a very long time.”

Friend… just like that her world crumbles this whole time she had only been a friend to Gi- Hun and nothing more? All the late nights thinking of him. How (Y/n) casually would scroll through their texts… Each sweet compliment or kind gesture from Gi- Hun meant nothing but… friendship… (Y/n) refused to let her emotions show now.

“Yeah, what are friends for! I know you would do the same for me if the roles were reversed… or at least I would hope so.” She felt her cheeks warm up as he stood gazing down at her. Gi- Hun pulled her into a hug needing more physical contact. (Y/n) quickly embraces him as well, feeling the need to act as if this was no more than a friendship.

“I don't know what I would do without you.” He whispered. It was breaking Gi- Hun to tell her this was nothing more than a friendship because he craved more. But he didn't need to put a target on her back. If she got caught up in these horrid games… if they killed her… Gi- Hun wouldn't be able to move on.

“I should get going. I have some more paths to lay out with my men. They need to know where to head for next week.” (Y/n) pulled back, turning to leave.

Gi- Hun grabbed the small of her forearm, “Wait! How about we get some drinks tomorrow. It's an off day… I would really like to treat you… Come here and I’ll take you somewhere nice… as professional friends of course!” It took a moment for her to respond properly, she had to make sure her voice did not waver, not in front of him anymore.

“Yeah I would love that. How does around noon sound?” She asked after receiving a confirmation from Gi- Hun (Y/n) left returning to her apartment tossing herself in the bed with a sigh. Why is she putting herself through this? The desire to cancel this meetup was close but she had to see him… She craves Seong Gi- Hun.

-To Be Continued.

[florestalio]

FEELING FRISKY — m.jh

you had always found your best friend attractive, who wouldn't? but perhaps, him being so close to you when you were ovulating... wasn't the best idea. after all, a harmless crush can lead to being dangerously close to toeing the line of friendship.

GENRE— porn with little plot, friends to ???

WARNINGS— unprotected sex (don't!), reader is extremely horny, reader is so down bad for jaehyun it's almost embarrassing, reader isn't as subtle as she thinks, jaehyun is a cocky little shit, fingering, mirror sex (?), pussy slapping, cum eating, missionary, bondage, let me know if i missed any!

WORDCOUNT— 3.6k

NOTE— this was written when the pictures of jaehyun sucking on a lollipop with a bandaid on his cheek dropped. yes, this is extremely self indulgent. also, this was originally going to be named "feeling 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂" but I changed my mind cuz... yea, i think it's self explanatory. enha ver here!

P.S— this had been rotting in my drafts for so fucking long, it's embarassing.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A SOFT GROAN FELL FROM JAEHYUN’S LIPS, as you continued to read your book, despite him being literally two feet away from you — that too on the same bed. What could that stupid book possibly contain, that you were completely ignoring his presence?

He groaned again. “Can you please put that damn book aside and pay attention to me instead? We were supposed to hang out, not be busy reading stupid books–”

You rolled your eyes. “We weren’t ‘supposed’ to do anything. You came to my apartment of your own accord, went straight to my bedroom, and plopped down on my bed, expecting me to entertain you — it’s not my fault that you can’t find the entertainment you wanted from me.”

Yes, maybe you were being a little harsh. But then again, he deserved it. You were ovulating — really bad at that — and were peacefully watching certain… videos on twitter, when he suddenly rang the bell to your apartment. Of course you were gonna be mad at him. Guaranteed, he had no idea. But that can’t stop you from being petty, can it? Not to mention that the book you were reading was one of the best smut books ever, so you had at least had something to distract yourself from the current dilemma with — but he was hellbent on trying to get you to ditch that as well, just to make you pay attention to him.

Distract yourself from what, exactly? Why, it’s your best friend, of course.

You had always found him attractive, who wouldn’t? But now that you were ovulating… the images in your head starring him were… unholy in the least.

You needed the distraction. Everyone knows that a girl ovulating, while being in the presence of a guy who she is even slightly attracted to, can be very, very dangerous. Especially if said guy is a good friend. Toeing the line of friendship is never a good idea, especially with Jaehyun. You weren't willing to lose him forever, just to satisfy your temporary needs… even if he was making it really difficult for you to not pounce on him.

You never thought a band aid on someone's cheek could be that attractive, combined with his all black outfit and the lollipop in his mouth. The way he kept swirling his tongue over the candy? God, you were definitely going to hell from the thoughts you were having about him.

A scoff from your best friend snapped you out of your daydreams. “Okay, maybe I came uninvited. But isn't it common courtesy for you to not blatantly ignore someone right in front of you? Or is that book of yours so engaging that you forgot basic etiquettes?”

Oh, how you wished to yell at him and say that yes, the book really was that engaging. How you wished to recreate the absolutely mouth-watering smut scenes in the book with him–

Okay, you really needed to get a grip over yourself.

You cleared your throat. “Fine, I'll keep the book down, but I don't know how to entertain you.” True to your word, you kept the book down, the uncomfortable heat that had been long since pooling into your lower stomach, not fading in the slightest. In fact, the more you looked at him, the more the heat intensified.

He rolled his eyes, speaking in an irritated voice. “It’s not like you aren't enjoying yourself right now, is it?”

You couldn't understand if it was because you were ovulating, or if he was doing it purposely — but something about the tone of his voice was so fucking hot — you could feel even more heat starting to pool into your lower stomach, your panties sticking to your folds uncomfortably. You spoke in a slightly shaky voice. “W-What is that supposed to mean?–”

Jaehyun took the lollipop out of his mouth with a loud ��pop’, before speaking with an accusatory tone. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

…There was absolutely no way you were growing wetter at his tone. Since when did he sound so… hot while accusing you? And why were you enjoying it?

You didn’t even know what he was accusing you of. All you could concentrate on was his slight smirk and the cocky gleam in his eye. You couldn’t tell why he was looking at you the way he was, but you knew he was up to no good.

But even when you predicted that, his next few words still managed to make your blood run cold. “Stop pretending like I can't see you rubbing your cute thighs together. I'm not blind, you know.”

Your jaw dropped, staring at him with eyes that were wide open in horror. He noticed?! God, so now he thinks you're a pervert — which, given your behavior, wouldn't be wrong — but still–

You didn't know how you still had the audacity to play dumb, but you did. “I-I don't know what you're talking about–”

You were cut off with a loud scoff from him. He gave you an incredulous look, speaking in a condescending tone, paired with sheer disbelief, letting you know that he didn't buy your bullshit. “You don't know what I'm talking about?”

You gulped, your thighs unintentionally pressing together even harder to prevent a fresh wave of slick from trickling down your hole. “N-no?–”

He let out a disappointed sigh, which seemed to be more of a mocking gesture than a genuine reaction of disappointment. “So you aren't going to admit it on your own. That's okay, I can always make you admit it.”

Without a warning, he wrapped a hand around your ankle, yanking you towards him. You screamed out loud from utter shock. Before you could say anything, he pulled you up, wrapping a hand around your waist so that you were pressed flush to his chest. He spread his legs, settling you in between them, before turning you, pressing your back to his chest. Jaehyun grabbed your chin, pulling it up, so that your eyes stared right into your own in the mirror on the far end of your room.

Your eyes trailed to his own in the mirror, shocked to see his expression. His eyes had darkened, slightly hooded eyes staring straight into your soul. You had never seen your best friend like that, but today… safe to say your thighs clenched again, your panties surely drenched by now.

You gulped, noticing a slight smirk on his face. He brought his lips closer to your ear, whispering softly. “Tell me princess, are you still not going to admit it?”

His tone sent chills down on your spine. You wanted to admit it so bad, wanted to let him know exactly how you needed him to rail you within an inch of your life — but then again, you wanted to find out what he would do if you didn’t give into his demands. What you guys were doing had already crossed all lines of friendship, it didn’t matter now if you guys went all the way anyways.

So you proceeded to lie. Again. “I- I seriously don’t know what you’re talking a-about–”

He let out a disappointed sigh, — which sounded really condescending instead — before speaking again. “So you really have no idea, hm? You’re telling me you aren’t wet right now? Hm?”

Your breath hitched. Fuck, this was really happening. “I- I’m not–”

You were cut off with a loud gasp, when he suddenly pressed two fingers right over your clothed cunt, the nearly drenched fabric soaking up more of your wetness. You couldn’t help yourself, letting out a choked moan, when he pressed them in even harder, effectively pushing the fabric deeper inside your puffy lips, even more slick dripping down out of you.

Your best friend — could you even call him that anymore? — bit down on the lobe of your ear, before speaking again. “Nasty little slut, aren’t you? Soaking up your panties right in front of me, and yet you have the gall to lie to my face? Acting all innocent too… was this what you actually wanted? For me to force an answer out of you? Fuck, look at the way you’re clenching around my fingers, and they aren’t even inside you yet — we’re gonna have so much fun together princess…”

His last few words turned you on even more, — if that was even possible — falling out of his lips like a dark promise, a promise that he intended to keep. You still needed to answer him, so you did — only this time, all hesitation, all the ‘acting dumb’ was gone, replaced by pure, unadulterated, lust. “I’m s-sorry please — please, fuck me Jae–”

You couldn’t even complete your sentence, before he pulled his hand off your pants, opting to push the waistband of your shorts down instead. You didn’t even realize that you were lifting up your hips for him to shove them down your legs, your underwear following suit — only, instead of throwing it far away randomly in the room, he brought them to his nose, screwing his eyes shut and taking a deep inhale.

His action caused your jaw to hang open in pure shock, eyes as wide as saucers — you were so unbelievably horny, all you wanted was to push him down to lie down on your bed, and ride him till the two of you were spent beyond salvation — but you knew he wouldn’t let you do that. He always liked to be assertive, which you were fine with — although right now you were growing impatient. You needed him, did he not understand that? You needed him so fucking bad, you would let him take you raw, breed the fuck out of you, fuck a baby into you–

At this point you didn’t even know if these were your own thoughts, or your ovulation fucking with your head. Either way, you were filled with the thought of him, your mind chanting ‘Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun’ like a mantra, imprinting his name into the walls of your brain — which was funny, because he hadn’t even done anything to you yet — properly, that is.

Speaking of, you just noticed him stuffing your soaked panties into his pocket, his hand coming to grip your chin again. He raised it to make you look into the mirror. You made eye contact with him in it, gulping at the look in his eyes. It was purely predatory, lust swimming in his irises like an insatiable hunger.

If you had any doubts about him not wanting you as much as you wanted him, your doubts were certainly all cleared now.

His hand left your chin, coming down to your impossibly wet cunt instead. He slid a finger over your slit, rubbing it up and down, collecting your abundant amount of slick on it. He watched in the mirror, completely fucking mesmerized by the sight of your pretty little pussy fluttering around his finger. He decided to use another finger, using both of his digits to part your folds, watching even more slick dripping out of your needy cunt. It was truly a sight, causing his bulge to strain against your back, a loud moan escaping you at the feeling. Your head fell back on his shoulder, your eyes screwed shut from the feeling of him playing with you so lewdly — it was like a scene straight out of your dirtiest fantasies, one that you never imagined would actually happen in reality — but fuck, you were definitely not complaining.

You suddenly gasped out loud, your head jerking up, staring directly into his eyes in the mirror. Your eyes were wide open in shock, from the impact of his slap on your impossibly wet pussy. Your breathing had fastened, staring at him in pure shock. He scoffed at your expression, glaring at you through the mirror. “What? Surprised? If you want me to continue, you better not remove your gaze — you’re going to watch as I make you fall apart on my fingers. If you avoid eye contact even once, I’m going to edge you the entire day — yes, the entire day. I’m not kidding in the slightest, princess, so you better keep those pretty eyes of yours peeled open if you want to cum at all.”

You swallowed thickly. This, this was what you needed. He was what you needed, he was all you needed. His tone, his words, everything was so fucking hot — you craved everything he could offer, and more.

But, in order to get a little bit of literally anything he had to offer, you needed to obey him. So you decided to comply, not removing your gaze even once from the mirror.

He plunged his fingers inside you without a warning, fucking them into you at a rough pace, drawing out loud squelching noises from your pussy. You let out the loudest moans and whimpers known to mankind at his rough pace, whining slightly, clenching and unclenching around his fingers. You arched your back to the best of your ability, letting out a loud whimper, when the calloused pads of his fingers rubbed oh-so-deliciously against your walls. Your breath hitched as he rubbed that spot on your walls, his other hand holding you down tightly to stop you from squirming. He had noticed immediately, making sure to hit that same spot over and over again, using his thumb to rub on your clit simultaneously. You let out a choked gasp, the band in your stomach tightening at alarming rate; a telltale sign of you being brought to your fastest  — almost embarrassingly fast — orgasm yet.

Jaehyun watched your expressions with his lip pulled between his teeth, his eyes hooded, as you fell apart on his fingers. The little shudders and loud whines were music to his ears.

God, you knew exactly how to drive him crazy.

He kept on thrusting his fingers shallowly, until you were squirming from the overstimulation. He then withdrew his fingers from your soaking cunt, giving your clit a last pinch, eliciting a whimper from you. He brought his fingers to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with you in the mirror, as he licked them clean, a soft groan leaving him as your taste hit him.

He licked off every last drop from his fingers, before harshly grabbing your chin. He turned your face halfway towards him, smashing his lips on yours, for the very first time — which was a little funny to think about, given that he had already made you cum on his fingers; that too at such an embarrassingly fast pace.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, spit mixing and dribbling down your chins, tongues clashing with each other. But neither of you seemed to care, too engrossed in trying to memorize the feel of each other's mouth.

He gripped your waist without breaking the kiss, pulling you backwards, before shoving you down on the bed. You fell on your back with a light ‘oof–’, your head hitting the pillow. You barely had any time to gather yourself, before Jaehyun was crashing his lips into yours again.

He kissed you at a feverish pace, one that you could barely keep up with. His hands roamed about your body frantically, desperately trying to memorize every inch of you. He started to fiddle with your clothes, trying to take them off you, almost tearing them off in the process.

You barely processed it when your shirt went flying in some corner of the room, your bra following suit. Your nipples harden almost instantly as they come in contact with the cold air, causing him to immediately pinch them, drawing out a loud whine from you. He sucked on one of them harshly, using his hand to pinch and twirl the other nipple. He alternated between both, biting and sucking on the skin around your nipples too, until your entire chest was covered in red hickeys and bite marks.

You were starting to find it a little unfair because of how you were the only one unclothed between the two of you, causing you to take the matter into your own hands. You tugged at his shirt impatiently, causing him to give in and take it off. He tried to immediately kiss you again, but your hands that were tugging at his pants stopped him. He stared at you with a slightly impatient glare, before taking his belt out of the loop.

Instead of taking his pants off like you hoped he would, he grabbed both of your hands, before tying them with the belt, attaching them to the headboard. You gasped loudly, trying to free your hands, in vain. He laughed at your state. “Patience is key, darling. Didn't you know that?”

He pressed another harsh kiss to your lips, swallowing your whines, as he slowly grinded on you. You could feel the outline of his rock hard dick through his boxers, pressing insistently against your clit. You let out sharp gasps and moans at the sensation, but it was quickly ripped away from you.

You were positively drooling when he shoved his boxers down, his cock standing proud and tall. It slapped against his stomach, leaving a trail of precum on it. He grabbed your thighs, shoving them apart, before aligning himself with your eagerly awaiting cunt.

He rubbed his angry red and leaking tip on your clit, before gliding it up and down your slit, collecting your wetness. You arched your back, your eyes rolling into your head, a loud moan practically ripping out of your lips. You looked up at him with teary eyes, silently begging him to hurry up.

He smirked down at you, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip, before finally pushing himself inside. You let out an even louder moan, feeling his bulbous tip stretch you out, before he thrust himself fully inside — earning a choked gasp from you. He groaned, barely giving you time to adjust, before pulling himself almost completely out, leaving only the tip in, before thrusting back in.

He set a brutally fast pace, the continuous ‘fap-fap-fap’ sounds ringing loudly in your ears. The squelching sounds from your pussy were almost equally as loud, as more and more of your wetness trickled down his length. Your bottom lip was pulled in between your teeth, eyes screwed shut. You subtly bucked your hips up, trying to match  his pace.

He noticed it quickly enough, grabbing your hips to still you, before stopping as well. He gave you a stern look, before changing his pace. Instead of the brutally fast pace he had set earlier, he switched to a slower pace, focusing on hitting every single spot perfectly.

You clenched around him tightly, a breathy moan of his name leaving your lips. His pace stuttered, before he grabbed both of your legs, folding them to your chest. The new position helped him pound into you even deeper, reaching places you never could on your own. His mushroom tip collided with your cervix every time, making you see stars.

He was deep, so so deep. He felt so fucking good, like you were in cloud nine. By the looks of it, he thought the same.

He let out a deep groan, breathy whispers leaving his lips. “P-Pussy feels s-so — fuck — s’fucking good — fits like a glove–” He cut himself off with a moan, feeling you clench around him harder. “Keep s-squeezing me like that I'll cum.”

You could barely hear him, your brain completely fogged up. You could barely formulate a single coherent thought, the completely unadulterated pleasure leaving you dizzy. You let out a soft gasp as you felt him sucking on your neck, just above your jugular. It felt good, too good.

You could feel the band in your stomach start to tighten, signalling your impending climax. He could tell it was close too, by the change of pitch in your moans. He focused on hitting your g-spot with every thrust, bringing his hand down to rub circles around your clit, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

The added stimulation was all it took for the band in your stomach to finally snap, your cunt clenching impossibly tight around him.Your eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent scream. Your orgasm washed over you, coating his dick in a layer of white.

Your orgasm triggered his own, causing his hips to stutter. He tried to pull out, but your pussy was clenching so tightly around him, he simply couldn't. He grabbed your hips, pushing himself even deeper. His eyes rolled back, a groan escaping him, as he came in you.

Spurts of cum erupted from him, shooting deep inside, your pretty cunt clenching around him even harder, milking him for all he was worth. He came and came, till he physically couldn't anymore. He pulled his softening length out of your spent hole.

Your ruined pussy clenched around nothing, globs of cum dripping down your thighs. Jaehyun scooped them up with his fingers, pushing them right back into your sensitive folds. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, pushing your hair out of your face. “You're still with me?”

You nodded tiredly, too spent to speak. You were still in disbelief of the entire situation, but it was as real as real could get. You felt him untie your hands, before scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style, carrying you to what you could only hope was the bathroom — before you passed out in his arms.

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @senascoooop

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."

Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."

And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.

There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.

Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.

So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!

(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)

Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.

This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.

[pedrospatch]

softness

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.

She’d made her entrance into the world early.

About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.

Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.

And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.

For several months, all you could do was hope.

Hope for a smooth pregnancy.

Hope for a safe labor and delivery.

Hope for a strong, healthy baby.

When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.

“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”

Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.

On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.

Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.

“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”

“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”

For a split second, that panic had ceased.

“She?”

Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”

“I did?”

“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”

Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.

“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”

He truly, honestly hadn’t.

It’d slipped before he could even think about it.

But his accidental slip had been right.

After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.

“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.

Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.

“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”

Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.

“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”

Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.

“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”

You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.

“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”

He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born. 

“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”

“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.

Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”

Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.

“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”

Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.

“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.

Dr. Porter walks into the room.

She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.

“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”

Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.

Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”

“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”

“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”

“How’s she sleeping?”

“Like a rock.”

“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”

You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”

“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”

Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”

“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”

After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.

“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”

“No.”

Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.

Your face falls. “Why not?”

“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”

“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”

“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”

“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”

“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”

“Take off your shirt.”

His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”

The blood drains from his face and he pales. 

It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.

He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.

Still.

The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.

Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.

The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.

The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.

The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.

Joel?

He isn’t soft.

Nothing about him is soft.

Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.

“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”

Joel swallows harshly.

“What is it?”

“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”

Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”

His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.

Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.

The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.

And when it does, it breaks down.

“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”

Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”

You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.

The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.

It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.

He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate. 

And Rosemary stops crying.

She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.

Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”

“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”

Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.

“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.

“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”

Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really believe it?”

Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”

“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”

“Of course I do.”

“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”

Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”

Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.

Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.

Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”

“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

[hoshifighting]

hi, lyla! saw that requests are open and i literally have this in my drafts lol

could u write about chan and the reader having phone sex since chan is currently on a tour. he had his fleshlight with him and they exchange dirty talks with each other ><

thank u in advance and pls be safe and healthy always! also, love the new theme, i got shocked when i saw u in my notifs lmao

phone sex with chan as he uses a fleshlight (sex toy)

WARNINGS: smut, sex toy (fleshlight), masturbation [m.& f.], dirty talk, chan moaning loud, chan being NEEDY!!!!!!

chan’s voice is crackly but clear over the line, the telltale hotel-room TV buzz in the background. he’s panting already, his breaths uneven, and you can hear the faint, unmistakable wet schlick-schlick sound of his fleshlight in motion. the moment you catch it, you grin wickedly.

“really, chan?” you tease sultry. “you couldn’t even wait for me to pick up?”

“fuck—don’t start,” he groans, it was clear he was frustrated at the same time. “you weren’t answering. i’m desperate, okay?”

you bite your lip, your hand already sliding beneath the waistband of your shorts. “you miss me that much, baby?”

“you have no fucking idea,” he breathes out, the sound of the fleshlight’s wet squelches picking up pace. “this thing—it’s not even close. doesn’t feel like you at all.”

you hum, your fingers dipping lower. “that’s because it’s not me, channie. i’m the only one who knows exactly how to ride you.”

he whines at your words, a high, desperate sound that makes you clench around nothing. “you’re so mean,” he mutters, his voice laced with need, all whiny.

“oh, am i?” you taunt, your tone mockingly sweet. “you’re the one fucking a piece of rubber while i’m over here, all wet and needy for you. but go ahead, channie—tell me how good it feels. is it tight enough for you?”

“it’s—it’s tight,” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly. “but it’s not the same. fuck, it’s not even close.”

“of course it’s not,” you purr, your fingers circling your clit. “it doesn’t squeeze you like i do, doesn’t pull you in and milk you dry. poor baby, having to settle for that cheap little toy.”

his moans grow louder, the wet, rubbery sounds filling your ears as he starts to lose control. “fuck, i need you,” he pants, his words tumbling out in a rush. “need your hands, your mouth, your pussy—need all of you.”

you smirk, your own breathing growing heavier. “you’re so needy, channie. moaning like a little slut—what would your members think if they heard you?”

“shut up,” he gasps, his voice breaking on a whimper. “they’re—they’re not gonna hear me. fuck, you’re so mean.”

“mean?” you echo, your tone dripping with mock innocence. “i’m not the one whining and moaning like a bitch right now, am i?”

“fuck—fuck,” he groans, his voice shaking. “please, baby, talk to me. tell me what you’re doing.”

“i’m touching myself,” you admit, your fingers moving faster. “thinking about how much better i’d feel than that stupid toy. bet it doesn’t even grip you right, huh?”

“it doesn’t,” he whimpers, his movements growing frantic. “doesn’t feel like you at all. i need you so bad, baby—please.”

“aw, poor channie,” you coo, your voice softening just a little. “don’t worry, baby. when you get back, i’ll make sure you don’t even think about that dumb little toy ever again.”

his moans reach a new pitch, his breaths ragged and broken. “i’m close,” he gasps desperated. “fuck, i’m so close.”

“then cum for me,” you urge, your voice dropping into a husky whisper. “cum and think about how much better it’ll feel when it’s me.”

with a choked cry, he falls over the edge, his moans loud and unrestrained as he spills into the toy. the wet, messy sounds of his climax make your own orgasm rush through you, leaving you gasping and trembling. as the two of you catch your breath, the line goes quiet for a moment, save for the soft sound of his breathing. finally, he speaks, his voice hoarse but satisfied.

“that…was so much better than this stupid thing,” he mutters, and you can’t help but laugh.

“told you,” you tease. “but don’t throw it away just yet. you’ve still got a few more weeks of tour left, and we’re not done having fun.”

his groan of protest makes you smile, and you can practically hear the blush in his voice as he mumbles, “you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

[kaznejis]

We're hanging on by a heartbeat- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

“You’re bringing Hank, right?”  She gritted her teeth, a blush tinging her cheeks as she avoided eye contact, “Yes… not in that way though.”  “I need to borrow him.” “What-” She looked confused at first, but then something clicked; mirth creasing at her eyes and twisting her lips as she cocked her head at you, “Y/N! You want to make Erik jealous.” 

A/N: Thanks for all of the support on my fics!!! every comment, like, reblog and read is GREATLY appreciated. So, enjoy this fun little oneshot I found in my drafts. :)

Word Count: 5,250 / Read it on AO3!

“He’s gonna be there, Y/N,” Raven sighed, swirling her champagne glass as she pursed her lips at you, “Charles practically demanded that he be there despite his refusals, I think he promised him that he’d get you to speak to him.” She accompanied the last words with exaggerated air quotes. 

“Mhm,” You grumbled, fiddling with your outfit in the mirror, “And that means, you are not allowed to leave me unattended. At any point.” 

“Y/N..” 

“Nope,” Turning towards her, splayed out on a chaise in her human form; a gorgeous dress accentuating her figure and her blonde hair flowing down her back in waves; you simply shook your head, face stern as you spoke. “I’m not going down that path again, I’m done with his idiocy.” 

“But… what does that have to do with being left unattended?” A smirk curled at the corners of her lipstick stained lips. You glared right back at her. 

“Because, I can’t-” You exhaled heavily through your nose, clearing the nerves from your chest at the mere thought of speaking to him, “If I speak to him, I will just embarrass myself- he, obviously, does not feel the same way as I feel for him.” 

Raven just sighed, visibly sick of you and Erik’s antics. Behind the guise of being best friends; you and Erik had been playing an erratic, immoral game of cat and mouse, each interaction felt like a step closer to admitting your feelings for him, but then, a subsequent step back at the very same time. He was complicated, to say the least, plagued by the traumas of his past and present. Plagued by the responsibility that he wielded upon his shoulders as a powerful mutant, the expectation of moral compassion; and, the sordid reality of his beliefs. 

You supported him, wholeheartedly, every step of the way. Your own chaotic mutant gene infecting your ability to appear as a normal human being; the green at your irises and the vines that intertwine upon your fingertips only causing fear, despite your god-given purpose being to allow growth. Maybe that’s why the two of you had gotten along so well; both of your powers allow you each to manipulate the foundations of the Earth itself- the ability to shift infrastructure and take lives at the merest of thoughts, at the slightest of movements. the hypothetical extent of what you could do rendered you outcasts, even if you had no desire to inflict pain upon others, they awaited with bated breaths until you would do so. 

Whilst Erik had initially viewed his residence within the school as a prison, you had seen it as a safe haven. The lush meadows and ancient trees that adorned the acres of land called to you, allowing for days spent barefoot amongst the reeds, with only birdsong to accompany you. Erik had paid you little mind at first- having only allowed you fleeting glances at dinner, a nod of the head if he agreed with a point, a slither of a smirk when you amused him. But, soon, he let you in; allowed you into the fortress of his conscience, allowed you to peel back the layers of his anger, and understood his desires for vengeance. You had balanced him out, balanced out the choke of his dark turtlenecks with the flow of your hair; balanced out the harshness of his metal with the brush of petal stems upon your fingertips. 

As your friendship had developed naturally, your feelings had followed. Abrasive, corrosive feelings. Soon enough, Erik plagued your every waking thought; his essence identifiable within the flow of the river, within the dust upon the floorboards, within the quiet of your room upon nightfall. 

He was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape. 

You would find him at breakfast in the morning, laughing obnoxiously at Charles; his teeth glinting in the morning light. You would find him in the classrooms, teaching the children their mandatory mutant history lessons; a transfixing performance of great intelligence, his hands enunciating each and every point. You loved watching him teach, perching upon a desk at the back of his room as he interacted with the children, engaging with their conversations whilst simultaneously wielding the ability to hold the students captivated when delivering a lecture. 

But, most importantly, your favourite place to find him was beside you. He would join you at the lakeside most nights, smiling to himself as you conjured flower after flower, allowing them to flow in the wind, the two of you watching as they found a home upon the tranquil waters. It was there, in the dark and the quiet of nightfall, that you had allowed your feelings to bubble at the surface, allowed your inhibitions to loosen as you had turned to him, studied the sharp features of his side profile; he had turned to you too, an eyebrow raised as he blinked, confused. 

“I was wondering..” You began, fiddling with the petals of a flower within your hands, watching as his loose, plaid shirt fluttered in the wind beside you; a change in his wardrobe that you had inflicted, “Charles is hosting a formal dinner next weekend.” 

Erik huffed, smiling at you; though his lip curled confusedly, “I know, I am the co-head of the school; I signed off on the plan.” 

Idiot, you chastised yourself, of course he knew that. Erik had turned towards you entirely now, his head tilted in intrigue as he stared at you, “Oh- yeah, well I was wondering, if you wanted to-”

“I’m not even sure why Charles would want to host such a thing, I mean, just an opportunity for the kids to drink too much and make a mess of the house.” 

“Yeah, well-” 

“And then one of Charles’ assistants asked me to be her date for it and I-” 

You felt it, in that moment, as your heart splintered within your chest; its foundations shattering and leaving you only able to gape in its wake. Coldness entrapped your body as the remaining petals of the flower within your hand shrivelled and wilted; the once luminescent petals forming a pathetic grey upon your palm. You simply nodded, zoning out and pulling yourself away from Erik’s words as he spoke, unable to hear him any further. You needed to distance yourself, distance yourself from him, from your feelings for him. It would be for the better; allow him to pursue whats-her-face without your claws of envy sinking into his shoulder blades, dragging him away from the semblance of happiness that he deserved. 

“I-I’m sorry Erik,” You stuttered, cutting him off suddenly as his speech screeched to a halt, his eyes widening and form freezing as you halted his words, “I need to go.” You wasted no time in bolting upwards, marching towards the distant lights of the house, not sparing him a single glance backwards. 

“Wait, Y/N-” He called, his voice catching in the breeze as he stumbled into pace behind you, “I’m sorry, did I upset you or-” 

“No, Erik, it’s fine.” You turned them, your hair fluttering before your eyes in the breeze as you watched him as he came to a halt, his face stricken, mouth agape as he stared at you, “You should go with Charles assistant, I bet she’s lovely..” You turned again immediately, sighing in relief as the house grew closer.

“No Y/N, I was actually going to ask if-” 

“Erik.” You snapped, turning once again, for the final time. The levity of your voice brought him to an instant pause, shock prevalent upon his features. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, you can go with whoever you want to. You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Oh.” Erik was still, his voice low as he watched you, his brows low and his mouth downturned; he seemed, almost, disappointed. Though, his emotional disparity was not your responsibility anymore, “Well, okay, I will then.”

You nodded, a finality; a shallow smile painted itself upon your features, “Good. I look forward to meeting her.” You didn’t wait to see his reaction, making the final journey to the house before swinging open the door and rushing to your room- where you could comfortably wallow in the drawls of your own heartbreak. 

That had been over a week ago; your initial excitement for the formal had dwindled entirely leaving you staring at yourself bleakly as you fiddled with an earring, Raven had continued to watch you; eyebrows raised and mouth curling with mirth. 

“This is ridiculous, Y/N.”

“Raven! He said himself-”

“No, but,” She paused, collecting herself for a moment before leaning towards you, hands clasped upon her lap, “You haven’t seen him.” 

“Of course, I have-” 

“Okay, When was the last time you saw him?” 

You laughed, eyes tight as you refused to make eye contact with her, “I saw him at breakfast this morning.”

“Sure, when was the last time you spoke to him?” 

Pausing, you cleared your throat, she had caught you there. Your own immaturity dawned upon you as you spoke your confession, embarrassment creating a heave in your chest.  “At the lake, last week.” 

“That’s what I thought- I mean, that man is a brooding asshole on the usual day, but since he supposedly professed his feelings for someone else to you? He’s been miserable, wandering the halls like a kicked puppy; if he’s even capable of resembling that.” 

Shaking your head, you huffed, turning to take a hasty swig from your own glass of preparatory champagne, “Maybe she rejected him after all.” 

“Sure, Y/N-” 

Suddenly, as the brevity of the reality which was Erik bringing another woman to the formal, a wicked realisation dawned upon you. “I need a favour.” You blurted, turning to her abruptly. 

“Okay..’

“You’re bringing Hank, right?” 

She gritted her teeth, a blush tinging her cheeks as she avoided eye contact, “Yes… not in that way though.” 

“I need to borrow him.”

“What-” She looked confused at first, but then something clicked; mirth creasing at her eyes and twisting her lips as she cocked her head at you, “Y/N! You want to make Erik jealous.” 

You shrugged, smirking at her; though the sweat at the back of your neck and legs couldn’t be denied, “I just- want to cover my own back, he can’t think that I’m moping and sad over him and another woman-” 

“But, you are.” 

Only sparing Raven a glare as she chortled, you continued, “I just want to let him see that I have my own date, and that… it could’ve been him. To everyone else, we’ll just be going as friends, but- Erik doesn’t need to know that.” 

Before the danger of your plan could pull your mind to a halt, before it could allow your conscience to screech at its own breaks- Raven was up, crossing the span of the dressing room and pulling the door open; telling a nearby student to find and fetch Hank. The young boy nodded obediently, breaking into a sprint down the hallway. Within minutes, Hank appeared in tow; flushed and breathing heavily as he burst into the corridor, half-dressed in his suit as his tie hung loose around his neck. 

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Hank panted, a hand planted upon the door frame as he surveyed the room; confusion followed within his features as he surveyed the two of you safe and seated comfortably. Only then, did fear truly grace his features; the dread evident within the tightening of his fingers and grit of his teeth, “What’s…going on?” 

“Sorry, Hank, but you will now be attending the dinner with Y/N.” 

“What?” He spat, his tall frame stalking into the room as he ensured the door was securely closed before truly entering the room, “No offence, Y/N, but I don’t understand- do you want me dead?” 

“What?” You gasped in turn, rubbing a hand against your forehead as you shook your head; Raven had nodded, laughing at his fear as she silently agreed, “Why would you die?” 

The ability to do so being somehow possible, Hank’s voice sunk to a hiss, bowing towards the two of you as sweat formed visibly upon his brow, “Have you seen Erik recently? He would kill me.” 

“Exactly,” Jeering, Raven opened the decanter upon the small table between you, pouring Hank a brimming glass of champagne before refilling her own, he took the drink readily once she offered it to him, taking a gusty swallow as his skin steadily grew paler, or even, bluer. “We need to show him what he’s missing out on-” 

“No, no.” Shaking his head hastily, Hank held his hands up before him, slowly backing towards the closed-door; a supposed attempt to make a fast escape, “I am not being a pawn in your fucked up-” 

“Hank.” Raven whined, cocking her head to the side and moving to expose the skin of her leg; pouting at him endearingly- you could only fake heave at her antics. “Please, for me? Once they’ve sorted their mess out-” 

“Hey-!” 

“We can have a dance together.”

Hank froze, the frost that had covered his cheeks instantly warming with the rush of blood as he blushed, his face taking the features of a dazed fawn as he practically melted beneath Raven’s gaze. He soon recovered though, turning towards you and sighing, scratching at the base of his head, “Fine, I will enter with you and we can have a dance, that is it-” 

“Thank you, thank you.” You interrupted him with a rush of skirts and arms flinging around his neck, peppering kisses to his cheek as you squeezed him, “You are my saviour” 

“Okay, okay-” He laughed, holding you at arms length as to protect the ironed linens of his shirt, a genuine smile lining his cheeks, “I need to finish getting ready, but I’ll meet you outside the entrance at quarter past seven.” 

“Quarter past? Hank it starts at seven.” You pursed your lips in confusion as he only grinned at you, a twinkle shining in his eye. 

“Exactly.” He grinned as Raven gasped, breaking into applause beside you, bravoing Hank humorously as you pulled away from him, to which Hank bowed sarcastically, hand before his stomach like a true guardsman. “We need to ensure that he sees Y/N- so, we enter late; put on a little show.” He wiggled his hips as he spoke, grinning at you fake-enticingly; to which you could only fake-vomit, sticking a finger in your mouth and gagging exaggeratedly as Raven laughed beside you. 

Hank departed then, a wave of a hand to you and a cheesy smile at Raven; that is when the plan jumped into action. Raven surged from her lounged position instantly, moving to check you over; your outfit, your hair, the words you would procure upon entering the formal. With a kiss on the cheek and a wink, she left at exactly 6:55; the door slamming behind the trails of her gorgeous dress. 

Thus, leaving you with a harrowing twenty minutes to stew on your decisions. 

Would Erik even care? Or, would he be too occupied with his supposed date? Gazing at the beauty of her dress and the delicacy of her skin instead of your own, honoured that he could serve as her date instead of wishing he could be yours. You forced yourself to break eye contact with your own reflection; disgusted at the pathetic twist of your features as nerves flooded your guts. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head; if anything, Erik would come to the realisation that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore and this sordid affair would end- you would go back to being best friends, you would swallow the bitter taste of rejection and smile through the burning fires of jealousy as he inevitably grew closer with his date for the night. Maybe the two of you would replace each other entirely, after all. 

At exactly 7:10, you left the room; bridled with nerves as you could do nothing but stare at the same features of the room you had been preparing yourself in for hours. Breath in, breath out- the sound of your heels clicking against the empty hallway resounded upon the halls as the inhabitants of the house were located within the main hall- the sound of conversation and light acoustical music a distant mirage. 

As you walked, you surveyed the walls of the buildings you called home- the murals upon the walls and the gorgeous art-pieces that the residents had collected throughout the years lining the walls. In the rotten depths of your mind, you wondered if this would be it- if you would have to leave, unable to sleep only doors down from Erik and the woman he would soon call his lover. The thought of it made you nauseous, made your knees beg to buckle from the strain of exasperated grief. Grief of what could have been if you had just stayed quiet, content; if you could have just been comfortable within the throes of friendship. 

At the end of it all, you missed him. You missed everything about him- his inherent goods and bads. His anger and his joy; his technicolour darks and lights. You missed the sharp lines of his face, the way his hair curled without the harnessing of a pomade, the prickles of the hairs upon his forearms and the curve of amusement within his lips. 

It took everything within you to not detour to the comforts of your bed, to crawl under the covers and hide for the foreseeable- wait for the inevitable to blow over, for Erik to enter your room and laugh at your sad state, just as a friend would; with no romantic-baggage whatsoever. 

However, before your jailbreak attempt could successfully be enacted; Hank emerged from the adjoining hallway, hands in his pocket and a meagre smile upon his face, “Thought I’d meet you here before you decided to run away.” 

Nodding, you sighed; managing a grateful smile his way as he removed his hands from his pockets and offered his arm to you, to which you took it and began to walk towards the hall’s entrance, “I was just working up the courage to do that.” 

Hank laughed, the motion jostling you slightly as you stopped in front of the entrance, the door was closed; the event readily in motion behind it, “We can back out if you want, you can go in now alone and I’ll come down in a few minutes?”

Shaking your head, you tightened your grip upon his elbow; smiling tightly, your voice cracked slightly as you began to speak, the thought of facing Erik and his date alone the most terrifying imagery in that moment, “I can’t go in there alone.” 

Hank turned to you then, concerned evident within the downturn of his mouth, his hands moved to your shoulders; the weight of them comforting as he sighed, “If anything happens I- we will be there, okay?” 

Nodding, you smiled almost-tearfully up at your friend, your lips curling with emotion as he jostled you; attempting to squeeze some semblance of humour from your state. He beckoned you forward then, one hand upon the door handle and the other curling to rest upon the curve of your waste; that is how you greeted the entire room.  

Due to the old-age of the building, the door creaked almost obnoxiously, the sound ostentatious despite the constant hum of the room. Immediately, you made eye contact with Raven; snorting into her glass as she failed to hide her amusement. Then Charles, his hands hanging in mid-air as if he was performing a speech to the group before him; though his face changed during the moment of eye contact, his eyebrows instantly raising and his lips curling into a smile as he looked into your mind, then to the hand upon your waist and finally to a point across the room. 

You followed his gaze, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat as it landed. 

There, stood Erik; the object of all of your desires, and your afflictions. His demeanour differed greatly from the others in the room, his face was blank; impassive as he met your eye; his hair was neatly slicked back and he adorned a clean, striking black suit. Charming. However, his body language told a different story- the grip at which he held his glass was ironclad, his lips were tight and cheeks haggard; an exact juxtaposition to the sharp cut lines of his suit. 

But, as you searched the space beside, behind and above him; the only thing that you could notice was that he was completely alone. 

Stood at the corner of the room, in his gorgeous suit with his exhaust-tinged eyes; he was alone. Not a date, of any shape or size or form, in sight. 

Your mind only allowed a halting, record-scratch oh fuck before you were herded towards the dancefloor- Charles welcoming the ‘happy couple’ to the crowd, sheer amusement threatening to crumple his confident form as he practically tittered. Hank only rolled his eyes, grinning at you amusedly as he tugged you into the entourage that was beginning to form. You couldn’t bring yourself to smile back. Your breath was quickening, panic flooding your chest as you realised that maybe, possibly you had read this whole situation entirely wrong. As you were whisked upon the dancefloor, a drink shoved into your palm and the waltz of fast-paced conversation already hastily beginning- you used every last essence of your will to build a somewhat passable facade, to not crumple in front of the crowd, to not run towards Erik and beg for his forgiveness, for his attention. 

But, oh, you had thought far too soon. Because, after all, you had garnered his attention the moment your heels resounded throughout the shocked quiet of the room. 

As you surveyed the crowd, Hank’s arm an all-encompassing weight upon your waist- you failed to stop your eyes from passing Erik’s form. He remained in that very same spot, as if he belonged nowhere else, as if he was sculpted upon the very walls of the building. His eyes were fixed upon your form; no matter the step, position or pose you took- his eyes never faltered from you, never wandered; even when Charles came to stand beside him, amusement towards his best friend tinted the rise in his cheeks. The two of them began to converse, the topic being of considerable tension; seeing as though Charles continued to look ever-amused, whilst Erik’s eyes finally dropped from yours- his face visibly swelling in anger as he glared at his shoes. 

“-Y/N? Sorry, Y/N?” 

Shocked, you blinked, turning back towards the conversation before you; two older women stared expectantly at you, you dug your mind for any recollection as to who exactly they were- maybe some form of charitable donors? After a series of agonising seconds, to which it felt like the entire room had gone silent; each participant waiting to see what was plaguing your mind, you spoke- smile cringing as you tilted your gaze towards the air just beside the woman, “Sorry, what was-?” 

“We were asking how long you and Professor. McCoy have been together?” Obnoxiously red-lipped woman-potential-rich-donor spoke, her lips stretching grotesquely as she smiled. 

“Oh, well-” 

“We’ve been dating casually for a few months.” 

“What-” 

“Oh, that is wonderful!” The woman spoke, clapping her satin-gloved hands together and bouncing on her heels. 

“Yeah..” Smiling airily, you ensured that oxygen was correctly being executed from your lungs; that you were definitely awake, alive and breathing. 

“It’s been a whirlwind,” Hank smiled, jostling you with the hand gripping your hip, “Between me and you, things are really starting to heat up-” 

Through the excited gasps of the women you realised with abject horror that Charles and Erik were edging towards your circle; Charles leading Erik with a clutch upon his elbow, to which Erik seemed to be fighting unapologetically. 

As if firing the perfect shot, at the perfect time and place, the red-lipped woman squealed at an obscene volume just as Erik entered perfect earshot, “Oh, just imagine, Y/N McCoy. It’s perfect-”

The sound of a glass shattering splintered throughout the room, halting the conversation and what felt like the very air you were breathing. Blood instantly began pouring from Erik’s hand as the surrounding partygoers jumped back in fear, the entire room watching with wide, halted eyes as he shuck the glass from his grip.

“Erik-” Trembling, you swallowed; feeling your heart hammer within your chest as you watched him, the loosening of Hank’s hand pulling and wrenching at the pit within your stomach. You had well and truly done it this time. 

Erik seemed to ignore you, shrugging off the onlookers that attempted to come to his aid; allowing the air beside your head one last scathing glance before he departed from the crowd, from the room entirely. Wasting no time in following him, you dumped your purse and drink into Hank’s arms before breaking into a full sprint; throwing any sense of formality to the wind as you shoved through the crowd whilst simultaneously calling to his retreating back. 

“Erik, please-” You called as you finally emerged from the crowd, the main doors slamming behind you as you stopped before him. His back was turned, feet poised as if ready to retreat, though he had stopped. Droplets of blood resounded against the linoleum, a steady flow of red dribbling from the cuts upon his hands, “Erik, you need to-” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Erik’s tone was demanding, his back clenching as he resolutely refused to turn, to face you. 

“What-”

Finally, he turned; spinning on his polished heel and stalking towards you- face practically carved from stone, his gaze bleeding into yours, “Why didn’t you tell me about you and McCoy?” He practically spat Hank’s name, the name convulsing from his lips. 

Scowling, you straightened your back; standing strong as you grit your teeth at him, “Why would that have been any of your business, Erik?” 

Scoffing, he backed away; scrubbing his non-injured hand upon the stubble upon his jaw, almost in disbelief, “Of course- why would it be?” He laughed sardonically, throwing his hands in the air and shrugging his shoulders. 

“What is your problem?” 

He seemed to still, to quiet; his throat bobbling heavily as his eyes bore into you- eventually, he looked away, lip clutched beneath his teeth, “You know what, nothing-” 

“Okay,” You nodded, feigning deep thought, “Let me rephrase then, why do you care?” 

Erik blinked, almost in disbelief, “Come on Y/N- you know exactly-” 

“-Because last I heard, you had a date for this-” 

“-Who told you that?!” 

“You!” You were shouting now, chest heaving at the patchworked conversation presented before you, “You did, Erik!” 

He was truly in disbelief now, shaking his head and struggling to find the words; eventually he settled for one, insignificant word. He practically drawled it, set up a board and sketched out the word at agonising speed, “What?”

Laughing, mostly to yourself, you gestured towards him, “You told me.” At his silence, you opted to continue speaking, “At the lake, you told me you were going on a date with Charles’ assistant.”

“I never-” Erik groaned, hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighed; visibly exhausted, “I know for a fact that I did not say that because-,” He was the one to laugh then, hacking at his chest as he forged his words, “-Because, you interrupted me, left and then haven’t looked at me since!” He seemed to check off the series of events on the fingers of his uninjured hand before waving his clenched fist in your direction, “So, I am assured in the knowledge that I did not say that, because I haven’t spoken to you in two weeks!” 

“Okay, well, I have looked at you-” 

“-No, you haven’t.” 

Slamming your mouth shut, you scowled, crossing your arms petulantly; he simply watched you, the turn of his mouth pulling in its usual smug fashion. “Y/N-” 

“Your hand is covered in blood.”

Smiling, he looked down at it, flexing his fingers before turning his gaze back towards you, “I know.” 

“So who did you come with then?” You shrugged, completely disregarding your worries regarding his hand, “Shouldn’t you be with her instead of-” 

“Y/N, you are completely missing the point… I didn’t come with anyone.” 

“Oh,” You breathed, desperately attempting to hide the relief evident within your exhale, “Why?”

“Because that night at the lake,” He exhaled through his nose; his eyes flitting in between your face and the wall as he breathed, he seemed to be trembling slightly as he conjured the words adjacent to his evidently racing thoughts, “I was going to ask if you wanted to accompany me.”

“Oh.” You repeated dumbly, utterly gobsmacked at his words. 

“But, it’s now evident that McCoy beat me to it, so-” 

“Me and Hank aren’t together.” The words left you in a rush, you knew that your wide eyes mirrored Erik’s own perfectly; shock evident within both of your features. 

“Okay-” 

“I completely jumped to conclusions and I thought you were bringing a date, so I- I didn’t want to show up alone so I borrowed Hank…for the night.” 

“You borrowed Hank.”

“...Yes.” 

Erik suddenly burst into laughter; his face morphing to accustom the sudden change in emotion as he outrightly laughed at you. You could only stand there; slightly offended, slightly relieved at the upbringing of events. 

Erik had wanted to ask you to be his date. 

Did Erik have feelings for you?

“Okay, just to be clear, you weren’t asking me to the dinner as f-” Your words were abruptly cut off as Erik suddenly broke into a stride, marching up to you before placing his hands upon your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours completely, inhaling heavily as if he wanted to ingest you, taste you. You immediately kissed back with the same fervour, intertwining your fingers with the short hair upon his head and accustoming your senses to the scent of blood that was now smeared upon your cheeks. 

Eventually, unfortunately, he pulled away; gazing down at you with hooded eyes. You watched as he bit his tongue, the motion tightening his jaw as he stared down at you, vision unguarded; almost unsure. You knew you looked like something straight out of a horror story, blood smeared upon your cheek and the bridge of your nose- you could only sigh blissfully as he ran his fingers through the mess he had created, spreading it until his finger reached your lips. 

You both stilled; breaths catching in your chests. 

After a long moment, you nodded, your eyes soon fluttering closed as he began to spread the liquid upon your lips- the copper tang of his blood immediately permeating your senses. His eyes were practically drooping now; his irises blown out in pleasure. Keeping your eyes upon his; you gauged his every movement as you sucked his finger into your mouth, effectively cleaning it and your lips of his blood.  You knew in that moment that this was forever; this connection that had been forged between your souls, intertwined at each end and tightened right in the middle. Forged entirely from his very own metal.

[mvltisstuff]

aaa i’m sorry glad your requests are back!! i was wondering if you could do a one-shot for buck where he visits reader (established relationship pls) in the hospital but every time he smiles or says something flirty the heart monitor picks up so he just teases her for it <33

thank you!!!!!!

i think he knows - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif creds

a/n: this gif makes me wanna scream and cry and die and roll over in my grave… anyway hi!!! i know this is late but i remembered this from my drafts and it’s so cute. hope this person still wants to read :))

ever since her surgery, y/n has been forced to rot in the hospital bed. at least until buck gets out of work. every single day, he would come to visit her.

when she first had to go in for the operation, nothing was certain. the medicine she’d have to take, how many bandages would be wrapped around her leg, but one thing was the same.

buck was in the chair next to her every chance he could be. he knew it was something to bring her stability when all of hers was on the brink of collapse. he brought her food, flowers, clothes from home, everything she could’ve ever needed was brought to her, all from him.

it was his post-shift routine. he would shower, change, and drive over to the hospital she was at. he would come full of stories, and he would tell her all about what she was missing. he hated seeing her in that bed, but if it helped her get better, it was all worth it.

it was almost funny to buck, whenever he would go over and visit. it was like they were never dating. it was like high school, when you go a certain way in the halls to see your crush, and your chest gets tight and face hot.

today, he was particularly excited to see her. he got his haircut for the first time in a while, and she adored when he had a fresh cut. he styled it her favorite way before heading over.

he held a to-go box from y/n’s favorite, and had a bag with some clean sleep clothes for her. he scurried through the halls and finally found her room. he knocked lightly on the side as the door was already open.

he peered in to see her, her head slowly tilting to the side with her eyes tired. the office reruns were one of the only noises in the room, besides the steady beeping of her heart monitor.

“hey, beautiful,” buck says cheerfully, waiting for her to look into his eyes too. she perked up at the sound of his voice.

“hi, buck,” her voice was low but clear, and she blinked a few times before focusing on him again. it seemed all energy was brought back to her as she looked at him. she looking him in the face, and then onto his hair and back into his eyes. buck felt the same warm feeling he always did when she looked at him. the color in her eyes shined ten times brighter when she was with him.

the longer she looked at him, she didn’t physically feel anything, but as he moved closer, the more excited she got. she had just wanted him next to her all day, and his hands finally graced her own and cupped her cheeks.

he planted his soft lips onto hers, tasting like the sugary popsicles they give her. he pulled away to sit down next to her, and she just smiled so brightly at him, the same way she always does whenever they pull from the kiss.

it always left them in a trance, such a trance that they didn’t notice the beeping speeding up on her monitor.

“oh, honey,” the nurse murmured, walking in to check on her. “you didn’t tell me when he was coming, gave us a good scare on this floor.”

“what?”

“miss y/n, you are so head over heels for him, whenever he walks in you just about go into arrest.”

y/n’s cheeks blush bright red, looking embarrassed at the nurse. “well you don’t have to say that in front of my crush.”

“i’m your boyfriend?” buck says, confused but also humored.

“you’re still both, apparently.” the nurse retorts, rehooking one of y/n’s tubes back on. when she walks out, she rubs her face with her eyes.

“i would be lying if i said i didn’t notice the beeping.” buck whispers.

“what?” y/n laughs. “what beeping?”

“whenever i walk in, you get all excited and start beeping like crazy.”

“not true.”

“is too! just say you love me,” buck says, leaning in closer.

“fine, i love you.” y/n grins back at him before kissing him again, and her heart rate still doesn’t go down.

[sissyisawitch]

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Relationship: Ominis Gaunt x You

Summary: Even though the two of you are not on good terms after a certain event, you and Ominis decide to go and explore Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium in order to help Sebastian. But you know what they say, danger helps to reconcile… but also to bring out the truth. Alternative : My take on the Scriptorium incident.

Word Count: ~5.5k

Author's Note: Hi! It's been a while... I haven't had much time for myself lately, so I've put writing aside. But summer's here, so I took the opportunity to finish this draft that I've had for far too long. And what better way to come back than with some Ominis fluff? Enjoy!🌞

Warnings: Major spoilers for the "In the Shadow of the Study" quest

“I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say ‘I love you.’”

You felt a wrench in your heart as you read those few words written by Shakespeare. It was astonishing how a few drops of ink on the page of a book, a simple garland of lines and curls drawn in different directions, could trigger disproportionate reactions. Did everyone else feel the same way, or was it just that you were too sensitive?

Or perhaps it was simply that these damn love stories reminded you that you had not had the right to your own, that the boy to whom you had offered your heart had given it back to you completely mutilated?

Another wrench in your heart.

‘It’s simple and concise for a declaration of love… but at least she had the right to one, and one that had the merit of being clear and direct to boot’, you could not help thinking as you reread your book.

Time had passed, but you still felt it all. The disappointment, the humiliation, the resentment that came with the sensation of having had your feelings played with, the hatred you felt towards yourself for having let yourself be fooled, not to mention the torrents of tears you had shed. But the most devastating feeling was undoubtedly the despair you felt when you remembered that you had absolutely ruined everything with one of the most important people in your life.

Ominis… Sweet, caring, beautiful Ominis… Your best and closest friend. And to think that three little words of love spoken a couple of weeks ago – the same ones you had just read – had been enough to destroy the strong bond between you two.

Once again, it was astonishing how a series of letters, a succession of various sounds, could trigger such a disproportionate reaction and write over months of shared moments of laughter, of little attentions to one another.

“So!”

You abruptly lifted your head from your book – which you were only skimming through – after Sebastian abruptly dropped down next to you on the sofa in the common room.

“Still moping around?”

“Nah, I’m in tip-top form, can’t you see?” You deadpanned, your voice brimming with irony.

“My, my. No need for the attitude.” Sebastian smirked at your feisty character.

Sebastian had got used pretty quickly to this new dynamic. He would have breakfast with you because you were both late risers. During the day, he would sit next to either you or Ominis depending on the class, making sure to maintain an equity. For example, he would sit with you in Defence Against the Dark Arts because he loved duelling you, and he would sit with Ominis in Potions so that he could help him. As for the evening, he would have dinner with Ominis, and then come back to see you once the blond had gone to bed.

In fact, without even exchanging a single word, you and Ominis had concocted a shared custody schedule of your best friend.

Sebastian continued, entirely oblivious to your reveries, “Anyway, I’ve got something to take your mind off things!”

You could not hold back the sigh that left your lips, “Another brilliant idea of yours, I presume?”

“And your presumptions couldn’t be more right.”

Sebastian proudly explained his latest discovery, that Salazar Slytherin had a secret Scriptorium here at Hogwarts. He was evidently determined to explore it, insisting that it might hold answers as to how to heal Anne.

So far, it seemed to be just another of Sebastian’s plans…

“…The only problem is that only a Gaunt knows where the entrance is… So we have to ask Ominis.”

You raised a dubious eyebrow at him, “This… is your brilliant idea to take my mind off things?”

“Oh, come on! It’s important to me! And if you don’t want to do it for me, then do it for Anne! You can tolerate his presence for a few minutes, can’t you?”

As you looked down and pinched the bridge of your nose, another sigh escaped you. It was becoming an unfortunate habit when you were around Sebastian.

You sighed once more, this time in capitulation, “Okay… I’m in.”

When a beaming smile started to tug at the corners of his lips, you immediately interrupted him with a menacing finger pointed at his chest.

“But! You do the talking. The less I talk to him, the better I feel.”

“Deal.” He replied with a mysterious glint in his gaze. “Come on, let’s get this over with. I’ll lead you to him.”

“What? Now?” You exclaimed with wide eyes. It had to be said that you had no desire to go, and that postponing the fateful moment until as late as possible sounded fabulous at the moment.

“Of course, now! Do you really want to do this in broad daylight and get busted by the teachers?”

“When you put it like that… Let’s go.” Without wasting another second, you got up from the sofa with a newfound determination that you had not suspected, but which Sebastian always knew how to awaken using the right words.

After climbing the spiral staircase leading out of the common room, Sebastian led you – if not dragged you – through various corridors of the castle which you were not used to venturing into, and which were very rarely frequented.

If you were reluctantly following, the boy accompanying you was as cheerful as could be. You could tell by the way he moved with haste, his steps almost bouncing. He looked like a young child who had just had one of his whims indulged (and, in a way, he had).

Sebastian suddenly stopped in his tracks and nodded his head towards Ominis who was standing on the other end of the corridor, “Go on, go convince him.”

You turned sharply towards him, giving him a disapproving look, “You said you’d do the talking!”

“Exactly, the talking, which I already did, and it didn’t work. So now, you go do the convincing.”

“Sneaky bastard.” You muttered under your breath, sending him one last murderous glare.

As you approached the mysterious blond, you could not help but analyse him from head to toe. His silky hair was as well-brushed as ever, giving him his typical elegance. He was leaning against a wall, the features of his face impassive, making you wonder what could be going on in that impenetrable, but undoubtedly fascinating, mind of his. Merlin, everything about him was so adorable…

Fuck. You could not go on thinking like that. You had to move on from him, even if it was going to take a colossal effort.

But… that did not mean you had to stop watching him categorically. No, you could continue to observe banal things about him, like the way he suddenly took a deep breath before his shoulders relaxed, while you were only a few steps away from him.

Before you could announce your presence, Ominis called your name.

“U-Um yes, hi… How… How did you know it was me?” You stammered awkwardly, still mentally unprepared to start a conversation with Ominis.

“Your perfume. I’ve got used to it. I could recognise it in a million.” He declared easily, as if it were the most banal thing to say to someone you had recently rejected.

“Oh…”

Upon hearing your long and awkward silence, his serene and composed appearance was quickly overwritten with his own discomfort, “Listen, about last time… I wanted you to know that I sincerely apologise. I should not have avoided you for so long and–”

“Let’s not talk about this, alright?” You cut him short, physically pained just by the memory of your last conversation. “I just want to forget this ever happened… Besides, that’s not what I came to talk to you about.”

“I’m listening.”

It did not take long to convince him to reveal the location of Salazar Slytherin’s secret room, just a few minutes at the most. After all, you knew Ominis like the back of your hand, so it was child’s play to find the words he needed to hear.

But that didn’t mean you kept talking to him afterwards.

Once you entered the Scriptorium, you did not utter a single word. Your demeanour, which had been warm and understanding a few minutes earlier, was now nowhere to be seen. Seeing you acting so silent, cold and detached, Ominis must certainly have thought you were unrecognisable. If that was the case, he did not show it. On the contrary, he was always trying to get as close to you as possible, all the while scratching the back of his neck, or running a hand through his hair nervously, as if he wanted to start a conversation but did not dare. For some reason that eluded you, he also insisted that you stay behind him whenever you entered a new room.

The only thing you knew for sure was that he was desperate to reweave the invisible string between the two of you that had been the source of your formerly close friendship. But there was a problem… it was still too early and too painful for you to mend it on your end.

So you simply solved the various challenges you came across, and eventually silently handed the letters you found from Noctua to Ominis, so that he could read them for himself with his wand (admittedly, you wanted to avoid him, but you still had enough compassion left to give him what was left of his late aunt). Meanwhile, you let Sebastian do the talking to lighten the mood (he had kept his promise after all). Everything was going well so far.

That is… until you entered a new room, and the stone door slammed shut behind you three, producing a loud crash that bounced off the walls.

“Merlin!” You cried out in fear.

“Yeah, I think we’re locked in.” Sebastian agreed nonchalantly.

“No! Merlin!” You repeated in panic but, this time, pointing at something on the ground with a trembling finger.

Sebastian looked down, and quietly gasped before holding his breath. Never in a million years would you have imagined that you would stumble across bones, and therefore be confronted with the fact that someone had died right in this very spot.

It was only then that you realised that the three of you were potentially next in line, that there was a possibility you might never get out of this room. At this morbid realisation, you froze entirely. You were unable to move, to think, to speak. It was impossible for you to react. It was as if, in a panic, your body had already accepted its fate and was getting used to the fact that, soon, it would no longer respond to anything.

The silence in the room lasted a second too long, and Ominis too began to panic, “Well, what is it?”

“…A skeleton.” Sebastian said coldly, although the grimace on his face betrayed him and showed that he too was in turmoil. “And Noctua’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here – blocked by an Unforgivable Curse.”

Because of the shock, you had not even registered that you had the remains of Ominis’s aunt in front of you.

For fear that your words would be clumsy and worsen the despair Ominis must be feeling, you decided it was better to remain silent and act instead.

Slowly but surely, you approached him. While he had his back turned to you, you wrapped your arms around his slim figure and hugged him from behind. It was not a gesture you would normally have made towards Ominis after what had happened between you two. But in view of the gloomy circumstances in which you found yourselves, you had found the strength to put your resentment aside.

And it had to be said that, underneath your unaffected exterior, you still had a huge soft spot for this boy. Letting him go through this ordeal on his own would simply have broken your own heart, as well as his.

“Ominis…” His name rolled off your tongue by itself.

You felt him stiffen at your touch, and you took in a sharp breath. In your eyes, it was just another rejection. He obviously did not want you by his side, both literally and figuratively. So, in an attempt to protect your fragile little heart, which had mistakenly let its guard down, you decided to let Ominis go.

But he stopped you.

“No. Stay.” He said firmly, though his voice sounded obviously shaken.

He held you back against him by grabbing your hand. He squeezed it, then pressed it against his chest with his own, just above his heart. His heartbeat echoed in your palm. You could feel it speeding up, matching the rhythm of yours, as if they were connected.

In response, you surrendered to the embrace by resting your head between his shoulder blades. However, once again, your touch had the effect of a painful electric shock on him, and he abruptly pulled away from you. This was just another example of how exhausting Ominis could be. He had always acted like this with you: one moment he was giving you hope that he was returning your feelings, and the next he was pushing you away.

Ominis moved away from you to get closer to Sebastian, shouting in a distraught manner, “This – is where she died. This is where we’ll die. I shouldn’t have listened to either of you!”

“Ominis, I’m truly sorry about your aunt. But I know what to do. It’s going to be difficult.” Sebastian replied in a calm, composed voice that contrasted radically with that of his friend.

Sebastian subsequently proceeded to explain his plan, that the Cruciatus Curse – the incantation for which was written on the floor – was to be used to open the next room. Knowing that Ominis categorically refused to be associated with the Dark Arts, and that you were unwilling to learn any of the Unforgivable curses, Sebastian’s last remaining option was to cast Crucio on you.

Ominis stared at him, speechless and dumbfounded, as if he had just uttered the most grotesque of abominations, “Are you out of your mind? Do you even realise what you’re saying? You want to torture your friend? Our friend!”

Sebastian raised his voice to match Ominis’s, “And you, can you think for two seconds? It’s either I hurt her temporarily, or I let her die in that shithole! And us with her! There’s no need to think about it, it’s a no-brainer!”

“And I’m telling you it’s out of the question! I won’t let you hurt her!”

“So what, then? We wait for you to come up with some wonderful solution where no Unforgivable Curse is involved? You know very well there’s no such thing! It’s Salazar Slytherin we’re talking about, you should have expected it.”

Sebastian paused, making the atmosphere even heavier. His tone had subsided, but you knew all too well that it did not mean that his anger had subsided along with it. Quite the contrary.

“You know something? For a guy who likes to control everything to the point of dictating other people’s choices, I think you’re being awfully passive right now.”

Though unseeing, Ominis’s eyes glared at Sebastian, looking daggers at him, “What exactly are you insinuating?”

“That you’re a control freak who’s got no balls.”

“Boys, stop it.” You tried to calm things down as you heard their voices escalate and their words sharpen.

But Ominis ignored you blatantly, to the point where you wondered if he had even heard you, “Oh, really? Do you want me to tell you what I think of you?”

‘‘Just you try!”

“You’ve become a complete nutter ever since Anne has been–”

“ENOUGH!”

Your outburst seemed to be just what was needed to put an end to the two boys’ cockfight. They both turned brusquely towards you, their eyes wide open. It had to be said that seeing you angry was already a rare event, so to see you furious with them was even more staggering.

“Enough.” You repeated firmly, sweeping your eyes over the two boys to make sure you had fully regained control of the situation. “Sebastian, shut up. You’ve gone too far. And you, Ominis, I don’t need you making decisions for me. It’s not your job to defend me.”

You gave Ominis a black look. It was foolish because he could not see it, but something told you that, somehow, he could still feel it. Especially with the double entendre in your words, which implicitly referred to how Ominis had rejected you, as well as all the bitterness you retained from it. It was petty, but you could not help yourself.

You then turned to the other boy, looking determined, “Do it, Sebastian. I’m ready.”

The brown-haired boy nodded and positioned himself in front of you. He raised his wand in your direction and concentrated.

“Crucio!”

A bolt of red light came out from the tip of Sebastian’s wand, and hit you square in the chest, right in the heart.

“NO!” You heard Ominis’s voice protest.

Was it really Ominis though? Maybe you had just dreamt it. You could not be sure, for every single one of your senses was overstimulated by an electric shock running through your body, and causing you to collapse to the ground on all fours. It was brutal but manageable, you thought.

Little did you know, that was only the preamble. The worst was yet to come.

Rapidly, every muscle in your body contracted, including those in your chest and throat, preventing you from breathing. The spell slowly left you suffocating, while the pain took care of absorbing what little energy remained in your body. It was as if a billion needles were sticking into every inch of your skin, sinking deeper and deeper with the aim of piercing your soul and finishing you off.

It seemed to you like this hell lasted for an entire hour, even though you were confident Sebastian would never let you endure this kind of torture for more than a couple of seconds.

And then it stopped. Though the remnants of the curse remained.

You had suspected that such a cruel curse was not going to leave you alone so easily. Still, you were not prepared for how agonising it felt.

Your ears ringing. Your vision fogged with black spots. Your anarchic breathing. Your body crumpling to the ground, inert. And all of this because of the lack of oxygen. All your senses were rendered nonfunctional, leading you to believe that you would remain in this state for the rest of your life.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked you with genuine concern in his voice, to which you nodded silently, your strength gradually returning.

Of course, Ominis was unable to see you, and began to get upset, thinking that you were still unresponding, “Of course not, Sebastian! Do you really think anyone can be alright after receiving the Cruciatus Curse?”

You wanted more than ever to say something to shut Ominis up. Or was it to reassure him? Probably a combination of both. Either way, the reality remained the same: you were still too weak to utter a single word. Your vocal cords were still paralysed from the agonised screams you had let out.

Thankfully, the door opening put an early stop to the boys’ bickering.

“It worked!” Sebastian exclaimed and immediately entered the room to explore it, leaving you alone with Ominis.

Ominis had no idea what to say to ease your pain. Unfortunately, he had already endured the Cruciatus Curse himself – and at the hands of his family to boot – so he knew how you might feel. However, no one had ever comforted him, so he had no idea what words would be likely to soothe you.

But if there was one thing his beloved Aunt Noctua used to tell him, it was that words come from the mind, and gestures from the heart. And it was always better to speak from the heart.

So Ominis let his heart guide him.

He knelt down beside you, and helped you to lie on your back, so that you would be more comfortable. But to your surprise, he did not stop there. He made you rest your head on his thighs, then stroked your hair with a hesitant hand. It was only after a moment that he spoke again.

“Can I be of any help?” He whispered, as if afraid of disturbing your repose while you were recuperating.

“H-Help–” Your weak voice got caught. You had to cough a couple of times before you could start again. “Help me stand up, will you?”

“You should take your time and lie down for a while. You just went through a lot–”

“I’ll survive.” You cut Ominis off abruptly, in a clearer but above all more irritated voice. You had had more than enough of his constant mood swings towards you, where one moment he could not be more doting on you, and the next he was acting as if he had never met you.

Ominis remained silent. You did not get the impression that he was hesitating over his next words, but rather that he was taking the time to digest how you had harshly refused his advice.

“…If you say so.”

“You know, I’m tougher than you think.” You kept the same cold, distant tone.

While he kept the same nonchalant and stoic tone, “I know.”

“Good.”

An awkward silence settled in, where you could do nothing but contemplate the ruins of your friendship. Where once stood a fortress of shared complicity and happiness, now remained only the vestiges of two acquaintances who were unwilling to rebuild what they had once known in the past.

To put an end to this heart-wrenching moment, you headed for the next room, without adding a word. Ominis followed suit, guided by his wand which pulsed red light at its tip.

“Guys? Care to lend me a hand, or do I have to explore this room all alone?” Sebastian called out without ceasing to rummage through Salazar Slytherin’s belongings.

You were about to answer when you suddenly saw Ominis stride resolutely in front of you. The frown on his face was unmistakable, as were his tense features.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve asking us for help! Not only did you just cast the Cruciatus Curse on your friend, but you didn’t even have the presence of mind to ask me if I was all right after finding my aunt’s bones!”

Ominis’s anger only seemed to have the effect of amusing Sebastian, “I thought it was stupid to ask someone if they were okay when it’s obvious they’re not.”

“It’s a question of common sense, Sebastian! If you had any, you would have realised that it would be best for you to lie low for a while and fend for yourself.”

“Excuse me for not being perfect. Not everyone can be a saint like you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sebastian.” Ominis visibly cringed upon hearing his friend’s words.

But it only made Sebastian’s smirk grow wider, “For once, you’re right. I’m being ridiculous. You’re far from being a saint, because if we’d listened to you, we’d be rotting in the previous room, and we’d be letting Anne die too, since you’ve also given up on the idea of curing her, just like everybody else.”

“Don’t start that again. You know perfectly well I haven’t given up on her, or else I wouldn’t be here having this nonsensical conversation with you.”

Sebastian’s arrogant smile fell, “Oh, stop it, Ominis! We both know you’re not here for Anne, but you’re too shitscared to admit it to yourself. Which goes to show, even when you’re already blind, you can still be blinded by fear.”

“SHUT UP!” Ominis roared in a deeply enraged way that you had never heard before, to the point where it made you recoil. “You’ve gone too far this time, Sebastian!”

Still frightened by the turn this argument was taking, you decided to intervene, “Guys, please don’t start fighting again. We’re all on edge and–”

“Come. We’re leaving.” Ominis announced sternly, holding out his hand for you to take.

“W-What?” You stammered, bewildered.

“You heard me. Are you coming, or not?”

You had never heard Ominis give you or anyone else an order in this way. Confused as to where this excess of chauvinism was coming from, your instinct advised you to go with the flow. You took his hand – not without shooting Sebastian an apologetic glance – and let the blond boy guide you out of the Scriptorium.

Except that once outside, he continued to drag you through the corridors, towards what you recognised as the direction of the common room. Holding your hand so tightly to the point where it was almost painful, he walked ahead of you at a run.

“Ominis, not so fast.” You requested, but your plea fell on deaf ears.

“How dare he speak to me like that, and insinuate things he has no knowledge of? After everything I’ve done for him! He truly deserves to be left alone; it would surely teach him a valuable lesson. Although… if he was left unsupervised, I’m afraid he’d do even more stupid things. I don’t know what more I can do to get him to listen to reason– What am I saying? It’s not my duty to keep an eye on him. He should just fend for himself for a change!” The blond Slytherin kept rambling, spiralling out of control.

At this stage, nothing and nobody could stop him from getting worked up over Sebastian. He was so consumed with his anger that he was completely oblivious to your distress at walking, your legs still suffering from the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse. You found it hard to keep up with his rapid pace without tripping over your own feet.

“Ominis–”

What was bound to happen did happen. Your legs gave out, and you found yourself on the cold, hard stone floor, which was undoubtedly going to leave several bruises on your skin. A blush of embarrassment crept up on your cheeks. The only good thing was that the sound of your fall had startled Ominis, who stopped and turned towards you.

He came dangerously close to you, “Pardon me if this is improper, but I can’t let you go on like this.”

Next thing you knew, you were off the ground, lifted by Ominis’s strong and protective arms. He held you securely against his chest, and with a newfound reflex, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Your blush intensified, but this time it was because of your racing heart. You were speechless, taken aback, and mind going blank at the realisation that one of your dreams – to be in Ominis’s arms – was coming true, but not in the right circumstances.

“I’m sorry. I was too worked up to notice you were having trouble walking. I should have paid more attention to you.” He apologised as he resumed his walk.

Once in the common room, you thought he was going to put you down at the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls’ dormitories, so that you could go and rest, but instead he went and settled himself on one of the leather sofas opposite the fireplace, the exact same one where you had been sulking a couple of hours earlier. He sat down, cradling you in his lap, while his arms tightened around you a little more, as if he feared you might suddenly decide to break free of his embrace.

Assuming you were going to stay in that position for a while, you rested your head on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ribcage. Your best guess was that he was still on edge after what had happened with Sebastian.

Trying to soothe him, you murmured, “Don’t be too hard on Sebastian… He’s only ready to do anything to help his sister.”

Ominis let out a long, fed-up sigh, before replying, “And can’t you see that this is precisely the problem? He’ll do anything – even hurt you – and I can’t let him.”

“He hasn’t hurt me, Ominis.”

A frown was beginning to form between his brows again, “Oh really? Because receiving Crucio was a pleasure cruise for you?”

“He had no choice.”

“We always have a choice. This time it was Crucio, but what will it be next time? How do I know he won’t cross the point of no return?” Ominis raised his voice. He got so carried away with his anger that he failed to notice that he had started stroking your thigh with his thumb.

“He told me he would never hurt me.” You answered in an unwaveringly serene tone.

“And yet he already did. He’s a hypocrite.” He snarled. “Actions speak louder than words.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “Does this apply to you as well?”

“What do you mean?”

“Here you are, caressing my thighs after carrying me in your arms, and yet you still claim to see me as nothing more than a friend.”

Caught in the act, Ominis’s hand froze, as did the rest of his body; he even seemed to be holding his breath. He pressed his lips into a thin line, as if trying to seal them shut, for fear they would say something that would put his life on the line.

“Come on, Ominis. Now’s the time to tell me what you really think, don’t you think?” You said, giving him the last little push he needed to confess everything.

“…All right. I lied. Of course I have feelings for you… How could I not? You’re so considerate and graceful… But those feelings come with fear. Fear that you’ll be disappointed in me, that you’ll realise I’m nowhere near good enough for you, that you could find a thousand men better than me. But what I’m most afraid of is being with you. Because believe me, darling, if one day I have the honour of tasting your lips and your caresses, I know that I’ll never be able to live without you ever again.”

For the umpteenth time that evening, Ominis blew your mind in ways you had never imagined. And the worst part – or rather the best part, given the circumstances – was that he had no intention of stopping there. He had so many feelings in his heart that begged to be verbalised and brought to light.

“You made me want to get up in the morning again, if only to hear your voice for a split second. Before I realised it, you hadn’t just become more than a friend, you’d become my reason to live.”

With infinite delicacy, Ominis took your dainty hand in his, feeling the warmth of your skin against his. Slowly, as if to prolong this magical moment, he brought your hand to his lips and placed a light kiss on it, full of tenderness and respect.

“You are both my greatest desire and my greatest fear. Don’t you see how illogical this is? You’ve made me lose control, and I happily let you. I hope this is proof enough of how enamoured I am of you.”

Although you had regained your composure and your vocabulary, you still kept quiet, but this time it was on purpose. You had a very specific idea in the back of your mind.

“I’m begging you, love, say something.” Ominis’s trembling voice implored.

You replied, without the slightest hint of what you were thinking in your tone, “Actions speak louder than words, Ominis. Your words, not mine.”

Ominis did not need to be told twice, although he did take his time to make sure he did things the right way. His hand, which was still resting on your thigh, was trembling from the torrent of emotions running through him. With his fingertips, that same hand skimmed the contours of your body, and moved up to cup your cheek, sending shivers down your spine at the same time. You closed your eyes to savour the contact and understand a little better what the boy in front of you was feeling.

With his thumb, he sought out your lips, before tracing them to fully appreciate their voluptuousness. He felt the smile that had just appeared on your lips. Encouraged by this sign, Ominis leant towards you, his heart beating wildly. As he drew closer, your breaths mingled.

At last, your lips met, timidly at first, then with a passion that had been held back for far too long. This kiss was a moment suspended in time. The world seemed to stop around you, giving way to the magic of that perfect moment.

And suddenly, all the Shakespearean love stories you had ever read seemed derisory. Mere words of love were not enough, were no longer enough, now that you had tasted the unctuous proof of love from the handsome, touching blond boy who electrified your skin with the slightest touch.

Who needed a trite, dull ‘I love you’, when you had the loving touch of Ominis?

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I'm clearing out my draft folder again.

Steve and Robin were running through Starcourt, high as fuck when Steve skidded to a stop in front of Eddie Munson.

"You look like Eddie Munson," Steve giggled.

"Steve!" Robin said with wide eyes. "I think that is - "

"Man, what happened to your face?" Eddie asked.

"Funny story, can you keep a secret from Eddie?" Steve said seriously.

"Sure," Eddie grinned.

"No, Steve, that's - ,"

"ANYWAY," Steve rolled his eyes at Robin. "I had this crush on him in freshman year. Do you think I should tell him?"

"Uh - are you guys on drugs?" Eddie asked.

"YES! But we didn't want to," Robin said. "They wanted information."

"Aw, fuck, there's this guy that works with Rick. Real sketchy. I told him he needs to let him go before he gets Rick into trouble, but does Rick listen to me? Nah!" Eddie exclaimed. "Look, whatever the hell he gave you should wear off. Not all drug dealers are like that. What we pitch to you is what you get. What you want is what you get. Okay, let's get you guys to the bathroom and try to get it out of your system. Come on."

"I'm going to tell Eddie," Steve said with a grin. "Shh! Wait here. I'll tell you how it goes."

Steve ran off with Robin on his tail. Eddie cursed and chased after them. They got distracted by the lights hanging overhead and started spinning around, gazing at them in awe.

"You guys do not want to do that," Eddie said, and they started heaving before they ran off in the direction of the bathrooms. "And that's why."

He ran off after them and into the bathroom room, where they vomited into the toilets. Eddie knelt down next to him and stroked Steve’s hair as he emptied the contents of his stomach. Once Steve was done, he leaned his head into Eddie's touch and closed his eyes, letting Eddie stroke his hair. He whined when Eddie moved away and saw him go to the sink. He came back with a wet, soapy paper towel and started cleaning Steve’s face.

"I guess I'm chopped liver," Robin said. "It's okay, I'll get it myself."

Steve laughed and made a face at the taste in his mouth. Eddie clapped a hand on his back.

"I'll be right back," Eddie said.

He rushed off to buy a couple of toothbrushes and toothpaste. He also picked up what he thought was lip balm. When he returned, he he heard them talking. They were clearly bonding, solidifying their working relationship into a friendship. Or maybe something more considering how Robin was talking about watching Steve. Shit, maybe Eddie should leave. They were talking about someone else now.

"But Tammy Thompson's a girl," Steve said.

"Yeah," Robin said.

"Oh."

Or maybe not. Oh God, Robin was coming out to Steve, and Eddie was overhearing it. Oh God, what should he do? He was frozen to the spot. Steve was going on about how Tammy Thompson was a total dud and how she sounded like a Muppet. Eddie snorted. Yeah, that was true.

"I can't believe you're making fun of my crush," Robin laughed. "What about yours?"

"Hey, at least Eddie can sing," Steve replied.

Fuck! Okay, so he had been telling the truth then.

"How do you know he can sing?" Robin asked.

"My car broke down near the Hideout one night, and I heard him singing. He was playing with his band, Corroded Coffin," Steve said. "They were really good. I was going to go talk to him, but I kind of thought that the drummer was his girlfriend, but that's crazy. I mean, guys and girls can just be friends, right?"

"I like to think so," Robin replied.

There was a long pause in their conversation, which gave Eddie plenty of opportunity to burst through the door.

"Okay, so I have a green toothbrush and a pink one," Eddie said. "Which one do you guys want?"

"Ooh, pink," Steve said and they stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Eddie said in amusement.

He watched as they brushed their teeth. Well, he mostly watched Steve.

"So, how much of our conversation did you hear?" Steve asked, setting his toothbrush on the sink.

"What? I didn't hear anything. Were you guys talking about something?" He asked.

"Seriously?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't hear anything that you guys didn't want me to hear," Eddie said.

"I don't think you're the kind of guy who would spill the beans on us," Robin said. "At least, I hope not so you don't have to deny anything."

"Ooh, lip gloss," Steve plucked it out of Eddie's hand. "May I?"

"Yeah, I thought it was lip balm," Eddie frowned. "So, have you always known that you liked guys?"

"Not just guys, girls too," Steve said as he started applying the lip gloss to his pouty lips. "I'm bisexual."

"Did you always know you were bisexual?" Eddie asked as he watched Steve’s lips intently.

"Well, yes and no," Steve said. "It was more like a slow build-up to my realization. Like more and more evidence started piling up that I could no longer deny."

"So, it wasn't like you looked at someone one day and realized 'shit, I'm into dudes, now?" Eddie asked as his eyes raked over the swell of his ass.

"It's always kind of been there. Why?" Steve asked as he closed the lip gloss.

"No reason," Eddie blushed, looking at his shoes.

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed. "You woke him up."

"What?" Steve asked.

"You woke him up!" Robin exclaimed, and Eddie quickly hid behind his hair.

"It's the outfit!" Eddie shrieked.

"So, what is it about the outfit that does it for you?" Steve asked.

"It's everything! The socks! The shorts that fill out your ass fantastically, by the way! And the shirt with the red bow tie in front," Eddie said. "It's just the whole fucking outfit."

"You should see me in the hat," Steve said in amusement.

Suddenly, Dustin and Erica burst into the bathroom before Steve could say anything else.

"There you are!" Dustin shrieked.

"Hey, could you give us a minute?" Steve asked Robin.

Robin quickly started ushering the kids out of the bathroom.

"But, Steve?!" Dustin asked.

"Out!" Robin yelled and shut the door behind them.

"I like you and as badly as I want to kiss you right now. . . I don't want it to be after I vomited in a bathroom. Plus, you still need to figure things out. If you still want me a few days from now. Call me. I have to deal with these kids I babysit. So go home and think things over," Steve said softly.

There was something that Steve wasn't telling him, but Eddie knew that he was also right. Besides, it was late. Steve placed his hands on Eddie's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. It felt much like Steve was promising him something. Steve pulled away and started moving toward the door.

"Hey, Steve?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah?"

"I'm definitely going to call you," Eddie said.

Steve laughed and walked out of the bathroom, leaving them both with hope for the future.

[acotarxreader]

Lessons in Herbology

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: You and Azriel are frequently at odds with one another but when Azriel accidently destroys your life's work, the illyrian will do anything to make it up to you.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, scratching? biting

A/N: Alrighty we got some frenemies smut situation going on hehe let me know what you think friends!

-----------------------------------------

“AZRIEL!” You screamed from the top of the stairs of the Town House, your voice carried through the whole house and practically into the neighbour's. You had never been so angry with him in your life, with real thoughts that you were going to kill him. You quickly stepped down the stairs, your gait heavily weighted with rage.

“Gods YN, I was in the kitchen not Summer Court” Azriel laughed, meeting you at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes landed on the shredded manuscript you held in your hand, his eyes moved from the ribbons of paper to your enraged eyes. Azriel bolted towards the lounge where your friends sat alarmed at the volume of your voice and pace of Azriels sprint. You darted after him only to have a weight thrown into your stomach, hoisting you off your feet and over a broad shoulder. 

“CASS! PUT ME DOWN” Cassian held you as you tried to wriggle from the fireman-style hold, some of the shreds of paper flying around the room.

“Calm down YN we can fix whatever it is - Gods stop hitting me!” he fought against the urge to drop you, Azriel taking sanctuary stood behind the sofa. You allow your body to go limp, forcing a deep breath from your lungs until they empty. 

“What on Prythian is going on in here? I heard the shouting from the end of the garden?” Rhysand entered the lounge to his friends, concern and humour painted his face.

“He shredded my FINAL DRAFT of the medicinal encyclopedia I was writing to finally finish my fucking healer apprenticeship” the group inhaled sharply at the severity. You had been working on that for months, it needed to be submitted in a week, eyes all then landing on Azriel.

“I didn’t mean to! I was looking for something in your room and my shadows got a bit frantic at the urgency and-” “-What the hell were you doing in my room?!” you still hung over Cassian's shoulder, simmering in anger.

“-I was looking for Truth Teller AFTER YOU USED IT TO CUT UP HERB SAMPLES” Azriels own voice raising, remembering the disrespect you had shown him the week previously.

“-I’M GOING TO KILL YOU SHADOWSINGER” You began thrashing again, Cassian's fingers burying into your hips. 

“Would you two hurry up and have sex already?” The room's eyes landed on a very bored Amren as she rose and made her exit. You breathed deeply out once again.

“Okay, okay, I am calm, I am zen, put me down”

“Ehh I don’t think-”

“I SAID I’M FUCKING ZEN-” you coughed after shouting, clearing your throat before speaking again “-Ahem, I mean, Cassian, if you would please return me to the ground, I am Zen” Cassian glanced at Azriel who looked genuinely terrified.

“Okay, no killing Az though, he owes me a drink-”

“Wow thanks, Cass, my life is only worth a glass of whiskey” Azriel rolled his eyes to his brother as Cassian lowered you to the ground. You ran your hands down the front of your trousers, breathing out until the blood rush from being upside down released itself. 

The inner circle watched as you moved towards the kitchen, Azriel remaining behind the sofa as a buffer. You returned a jug of water and the broom, no one taking their eyes off you. 

“Cass, please help me with this for a moment” You stood on the edge of the opposite sofa to Azriel, placing the mouth of the jug flush to the roof, the broom then pushed at the base supporting the jug. You gestured with your head for Cassian to take hold of the broom, allowing you to release the jug, its weight now supported by Cassian holding the broom.

“Now, don’t move or you’ll soak the place Cass-”

“-wait what?” Cassian's confusion was cut off by your sudden movement darting towards Azriel.

“COME HERE AZRIEL!” you flew over the sofa that was protecting Azriel, slamming into his chest and sending him flying to the ground, Cassian was completely caught off guard and unsure of what to do, looking between the jug and his two friends near killing one another. Mor, Rhysand and Feyre keeled over with laughter. 

—---------------------------

You lay flat on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, the magnitude of the workload ahead of you washing over you. You left a soaked Cassian to mop up the water after Rhysand finally caught his breath from laughing to separate you from Azriel. You allowed the tears to fall down your cheeks, unable to hold them in any longer. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing while trying to pull the tears back in, a knock gently tapping off your oak door. You silently hoped it was Cassian or Feyre, wishing to openly cry into their arms at your future dissolving in front of your eyes. You opened the door, Azriel blowing in the door passed you before you could close it on him. You were shocked as you closed the door gently so as not to wake the rest of the house, Azriel pacing your room.

“Azriel, please go, I just can’t with you right now” “YN, I am so so s- were you crying?” you span away from him, drifting over towards your bed, climbing into the centre of the shredded paper nest you had made. 

“Look, I’m really sorry about the manuscript, normally I wouldn’t care if I drove you this insane but I really didn’t set out to ruin your manuscript as some sort of vendetta-” “You’re rambling Az” “Sorry sorry, long story short I’m here to help you rewrite the whole thing-” your laugh at his words cutting him off before he continued, sitting at the edge of your bed to continue his plea.

“I know I don’t know anything about healing other than what not to do but I can write a lot faster than you and I know you hate me right now but I’m still your friend in a weird us kinda way right?” you didn’t have a reply to that. You and Azriel frequently fought but you were still friends beneath it all. 

You didn't expect your body to move towards his, exhaustion and stress perhaps blurring your thought process. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, his arms wrapping around your waist returning the sentiment. You fought against your body again, losing the fight as tears began to fall from your waterline once again.

“I am a terrible friend” he whispered into your hair, feeling the scope of the burden his haste had brought you. 

“Yeah, you kinda are” You laughed through your tears, your joking tone returned the lightness to Azriels chest. Silence fell around the room, you both just taking a moment to hold one another in ease, a new sense of comfort growing between you both. 

You separated, moving deeper into the bed, handing him blank sheets and a pen as you wiped your tears with your sleeve. Azriel slid into the bed alongside you and after a quick debrief, you both began the work of diving into herbology. 

You both wrote and researched until three in the morning rolled around, and your eyes grew heavy, sleep fighting your need to keep writing. 

“Okay YN, that’s enough” Azriel barely whispered as your eyes finally lost the fight. Your weight fell softly into Azriels side as he gently pulled the pen and paper from your hand. His shadows swept up the stray sheets into a pile on the floor before they pulled a throw blanket from the base of the bed over the both of you. Azriel too tired to fight their mother-hen energy. 

—----------------------------

The sunlight crossed your eyes as you rested into Azriels chest causing you to squint into the unforgiving rays. You rolled into Azriels side tighter, further tangling your legs together with a groan of comfort. You then shot upwards in the bed. 

“Gods YN what's wrong?” he stretched the words out while straightening his arms out above his head, his eyes adjusting to the light. 

“I just woke up next to you is what's wrong! Leave before someone sees you, they'll never let it go” “YN don’t be annoying, nothing happened-” he rolled back towards you, reaching his arm across your abdomen and pulling you back into the mattress “-you were blocking the sun from my eyes a minute ago” You hit him gently into the chest laughing at his dumb smirk and yet you obeyed. 

“OH MY GODS I NEED TO FINISH WRITING” You shot back up remembering the mammoth workload ahead of you, Azriel being sent flying towards the floor with your sudden upward movement. 

“Okay okay fucking hell, I'll go get you a coffee” he half laughed, pushing himself from the ground and quietly out into the hall.

Azriel strode down the stairs, feeling weirdly warm towards the thoughts of this morning. 

“Hey Az, do you-” “Nothing! I did nothing” Cassian raised an eyebrow to the spymaster's rushed and unusually uncontrolled response. 

“Okay, I’m going to choose to pretend that wasn’t incredibly suspicious” he laughed from the lounge where he sipped his coffee.

“Wait, I thought you went to the House of Wind last night”

“Yeah I was but then YN and I fell asleep after-” “After what Az? Wait, did you just come out of her room?” he couldn’t hide the giddy smug tone coating his words. 

“No no no” Azriel tried to brush him off, moving into the kitchen with Cassian hot on his heels. 

“Azriel, did you and YN-” “-Cassian! Do not finish that sentence!” Azriel scrunched his eyes together before reaching for a coffee mug from the press. 

“Az, you don’t drink coffee” Cassian smirk now turning to a blinding grin.

“It's for YN and before you start, I was helping her with her manuscript and then we fell asleep, literally nothing else happened” Azriel boiled the water, still refusing to turn to face the Illyrian warrior.

“Did you want something to happen Az? Was it a lesson in Chemistry instead of a lesson in Herbology?” The question caught him entirely off guard, dropping the pouch of coffee granules into the sink with a swear.

“Ohhhhh Azie like YNN-ie”

“Shh she could hear you” he whipped around to his brother with panic at his teasing tone. 

“Oh shit you didn’t deny it” Cassin punched Azriel’s arm playfully but harder than intended, some element of his protective nature rearing its head. 

“Look, I don’t know, you know I don’t know, I just find her mesmerising but also a mind-altering amount of frustrating” 

“Ohh Az you got it so bad for her” he pushed Azriel coltishly again. Azriel returned to finishing the coffee, the noticeable silence from his brother raising a question in his mind. Azriel turned back to find Cassian's eyes fixed heavily onto the ground, now unable to meet his eye.

“Cass…what do you know?” 

“N-nothing” Azriel only raised an eyebrow in response, he would always be able to spot a lie, especially with Cassian. Azriel caught Cassian's shoulders and forced him to look into his eyes

“Cassian, you need to tell me right now if I even have the slightest of chances with YN'' The clear and definitive tone of Azriels voice was not lost on Cassian.

“Yeah Az, I kind of do know something” Cassian then proceeded to tell Aziel the story of you. How you liked him since you met four hundred years ago, how you believed you would never be like Mor in his eyes, how you knew you’d never be like Elain in his eyes, your fighting going into overdrive, especially at the time of Elains introduction to your world. How you tried to process and bury your feelings, choosing to stay his frenemy rather than ever risk losing him to unrequited feelings. At the end of it, Azriel felt awash with every and all emotion.

“So wait what about now, does she still feel those feelings?” “Do you want to be with her?” 

“We’re not talking about me right now Cass, we’re talking about her! Well?!” “Yeah Az, she still does - Gods she's going to kill me where I stand” Azriel barely heard what was said after the confirmation of what he had secretly wanted for so long. He took a step back from Cass, shock colouring his face before he found his feet rushing him up the stairs and away from Cassian's calls to be careful.

You sat writing away, almost halfway complete with the rewrite as Azriel nearly lashed the door off the hinges and slammed it closed almost as hard. Azriel almost took two steps at a time as he closed the distance between you, he snatched the paper from your hands, throwing it any which way. 

“Az what the fuck-” Your confused laugh was cut off as Azriel lunged forward, pushing you into the bed, and hovering above you. You looked into his hazel eyes, which seemed almost lit with fear before he leaned down and connected his lips to yours. You felt the stress he had caused you yesterday be instantly replaced with a pure lightness. He pulled back to look into your eyes again, his face the picture of apologies and petrification, not believing his actions.

“I am so sor-” You cut off his apology by pulling him back to meet you, him smiling into your lips as they met hurriedly. 

“This-is-so-crazy” he breathes between kisses.

“It-could-get-crazier” You almost giggled into the breathy kisses, Azriels shadows responding to you by wrapping around your curves. You sat up from beneath him, only separating from him to pull your shirt from over your head, Azriel repeating the action with his own linen. You ran your hands down his chiselled bare chest and he began to nip at yours. 

“Are you sure you want to do this YN?” you smiled at his kind eyes, placing a tender kiss in reassurance. As you separated his eyes had turned lustful, your hand reaching and grazing his bulge, gaining a slight groan from him. He promptly stood and removed his trousers as you kicked off your own, sliding further into the bed and beckoning him to follow you. You let out a whimper at the feeling of his teeth marbling your neck, marking you as his.

“I’m gonna give you such crap about that beautiful noise later YN” he grinned, abusing the spot that gained the noise causing more to leave you. He claimed the spot until dapples decorated your skin, the feeling of him hard against you was driving you crazy quickly. You bucked your hips up to meet him harder in sweet friction. 

“Okay I can’t wait any longer, I need you, I really fucking need you” he panted, pulling his underwear down, unleashing his full glory, your mouth almost drying at the sight. 

Azriel slowly inched into you, allowing you to adjust to the massive length of him, your nails digging into his shoulders in glorious pain. Azriel raised a hand above your head to support himself, your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he began to move. Your nails racked up his back at the growing speed, your growing moans spurring him on. Azriels wings splayed out to balance himself, your hand found itself trancing gently the spines sending gratifying shivers down Azriels back. 

Your head fell back as you both began to sink into synchronised movement, tightening around him the band began to tighten and tighten and tighten until finally, it snapped. You almost roared his name at the release of pure endorphins, the sound sending Azriel sailing over his own edge. Your legs still wrapped around him as he began to shake through his own orgasm before he slowly pulled out and collapsed breathlessly beside you. 

Azriel sat up, hauling the duvet up and over you both as you leaned your back flush with his chest, breathing, fighting to return to regular rhythm. 

“Four hundred years huh?” Azriel puffed the words out with a smile. You took a moment to process the words. 

“I am going to kill Cassian” You squeezed your eyes closed in almost embarrassment, Azriel leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly.

“Am I forgiven for the manuscript incident?” you hummed in answer to his question, eyes relaxing closed as you both tangled together. You looked to the ground to see Azriel’s shadows mending shreds of paper together.

“Az…did you know that your shadows could do that?” you sat up looking at the now-mended manuscript on the floor.

“Eh…yes I did, I just wanted to spend time with you, don’t kill me” he looked panicked to your disbelief. You just allowed a loud laugh to escape your chest at the absurdity of it all. 

“I think you’ll be making it up to me for the rest of your life” “I can’t wait” 

----------------------------------

[reysdriver]

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected. 

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl. 

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking. 

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you. 

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him. 

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign. 

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke. 

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better. 

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again. 

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you. 

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made. 

“Absolutely not.” You replied. 

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip. 

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love. 

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen. 

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms. 

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky. 

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room. 

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you. 

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged. 

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed. 

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse. 

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun. 

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police. 

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively. 

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled. 

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it. 

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything. 

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father. 

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said. 

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all. 

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours. 

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.