#i'll just try to be really quiet about it

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

This part includes the Russian torture scene, so adding a warning for gore/violence just to be safe!

-----

Eddie comes by Scoops, once Steve gets the job there.

The first time, he laughs at the sailor hat for a minute straight until Steve rolls his eyes and calls back, “I'm taking my lunch!”

“Now?” Robin bitches. “Did you actually get a girl to fall for those ridiculous li-” She cuts off as she comes out of the back room and sees Eddie. “Oh. Huh.”

Eddie flashes a sharp toothed smile at her, and Steve rolls his eyes again and elbows him.

“I'll be back before the actual lunch rush hits this way,” he tells Robin, untying his apron and depositing it to the side of the counter.

To Eddie, he says, “Here, since this brought you so much joy,” and drops the sailor hat onto the top of Eddie's head.

Eddie gives a squawk and squirms around like he's trying to bat him off, though Steve notices he doesn't actually push him away as Steve adjusts the hat to his liking.

“There,” Steve says, shooting Eddie a teasing little grin as he steps back. “You keep that on the whole time, and I'll buy you lunch.”

“A small price to pay for a free meal,” Eddie says solemnly, but his eyes are crinkled a little like they do when he smiles, and he doesn't take the hat off the entire time they eat together.

—

He and Eddie sit out back behind Scoops, passing a cigarette back and forth. It's the end of Steve's shift, and technically he doesn't have to stay anymore, but he's not in a hurry to get home.

Dustin's away at camp, after all.

“Why the hell are you working here?” Eddie asks, sounding like he's been mulling it over for a while.

Steve snorts. “Needed to work somewhere.”

“Okay, fine, but haven't you done the lifeguard thing for like three years?”

Steve - didn't actually expect Eddie to know that, and he shoots him a little smile before he rolls his eyes. “Not a real job, according to my dad. It's just hanging out at the pool all day.”

Eddie scoffs. “Would your dad even know a real job if it bit him?”

“My dad's never really had to work for anything,” Steve mutters. “I didn't get into any of the colleges they wanted me to, so I needed to be taught a lesson. Pretty sure he was hoping it'd humiliate me.”

Eddie tips back, looking him over. “You don't look very humiliated.”

Steve shrugs. “Because I'm not. Yeah, sure, the outfit and the hat are stupid, but work is work. Ice cream makes people happy, I make people happy, it could be worse. Besides, he has no idea what I'm even making here. Every paycheck is a little more I can stash away where he can't touch it.”

Eddie's watching him very closely now, in a way that Steve's never seen before.

“How long have you been doing that?” he asks quietly.

“What, saving money that my dad doesn't know about?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.”

Eddie's face is serious - far more serious than Steve's ever seen him, than he thinks the situation warrants. Steve frowns.

“Since I got my first job, I guess? Anything I ask for from him comes with some kind of string attached, and I got tired of paying for it.”

Eddie's quiet again. “You've gotten in a lot of fights the last couple of years,” he says, slow and careful like he thinks Steve might bolt. “Lot of bruises.”

He clocks on to what Eddie's trying to get at, then, and a rush of relief washes over him as he hurries to set him straight. “Oh, no, my dad's not abusive or anything, just an asshole. He's never hit me.”

Eddie considers that. “Your dad can be an abusive piece of shit without ever hitting you.”

Steve licks his lips, takes his turn watching Eddie a little more closely. “Sounds like you're familiar with it.”

Eddie laughs, sharp and humorless. “Come on, man, you know who my dad is.”

“I know what people say about him,” Steve agrees. “But I've learned not to listen to rumors.”

Eddie flicks the cigarette butt off into the distance.

Steve gets out another one, puts it between his lips to light it. He takes a long drag, then - pulls his heart out of his chest, setting it between them before he passes the cigarette over.

Eddie's eyes drop down to his heart as he takes the cigarette, but this time he doesn't say anything.

Steve still doesn't ask to see his, even though he's tempted.

“You can listen to these ones,” Eddie says after a while. “They're mostly true.”

“You deserve better,” Steve tells him.

He looks over when Eddie doesn't say anything, finding him watching his heart. It's beating strong and steady.

“So do you,” Eddie says without looking up.

They sit in silence for a while longer, until the cigarette is gone.

Then Steve tucks his heart back into his chest and stands up. “Come on, I'll get us lunch.”

Eddie scowls at him. “You bought last time.”

“Yeah, but a conversation like that deserves a burrito bigger than your head, and I've got employee discount,” Steve counters, holding out his hand.

Eddie concedes, accepting his hand up.

—

Steve keeps making up excuses to buy Eddie lunch after that, every time he comes by at the end of an early shift or close to his lunch break on a later shift.

One day he gets them both pizza from Sbarro, and they sit at one of the sticky plastic tables in the food court. It's so small their knees knock together as they devour their slices, but -

But it also means that Steve can tuck his ankle up against Eddie's, hook his foot half around it, and have an excuse if he needs one.

He doesn't need one.

Eddie doesn't move his foot away, but he does shoot wide eyed little looks over at Steve like he's not sure whether this is a joke or not, and -

“Hi,” Steve says, soft and ridiculous and holy shit, he has to have something better than hi.

But apparently hi works, because Eddie ducks his head, looks back up at him with something soft and wary and surprised all at once.

“Hi,” Eddie says back.

And that's -

It's something.

—

Steve gets closer to Robin - their bickering has started to become playful, and even though her teasing's never been mean, now it sounds almost fond. She still gets annoyed when customers watch them work in complete sync and think they're a couple, but now she just rolls her eyes and complains to him later instead of throwing things off by trying to protest it.

It's nice. He thinks he might be winning her over, and it makes the days pass a lot quicker.

—

He doesn't see Eddie for a week after their pizza lunch.

He tries not to think much about it, just tells himself that if he hasn't seen him by the time Dustin comes back from camp, he'll call him.

—

This isn't like any beating he's taken before.

Steve'd thought he was prepared. He was prepared, at least in the beginning. Billy did just as much damage, even if it was in a shorter span of time, and the ache in his ribs and stomach and face is familiar.

He can handle it.

Besides, it doesn't matter how much they hurt him - protecting Robin and Dustin and Erica is more important than anything else.

"Let's take a look at his heart," one of the soldiers says. "See how honest he's really being."

Steve's pretty sure he makes a choked off little guh.

He doesn't want to let them anywhere near his heart.

But on the other hand - he isn't lying as much as they think he is, and maybe that will prove it? They'll have to undo his hands to get him to take it out, and he briefly considers trying to get the drop on them, but he has to concede that probably won't go very well for him.

It's not like they're really asking for his opinion, anyway.

They aren't making any move to untie his hands, either, and Steve's brow scrunches in confusion.

He sees one of them holding what looks like a mix of a gun and a taser. It - honestly, it looks pretty stupid, like a prop in a bad movie, and he wrinkles his nose at it.

They press it up against his ribcage, pull the trigger - and fuck, he jolts back with the force of it.

His chest splits open.

The shock of it makes him numb for a precious few moments, staring down at the gaping hole in his own chest. The pain doesn't hit him until they take his heart out. It feels like it's being carved out of him, ripped from his chest as though he were being mauled by a wild animal, and he has the somewhat hysterical thought that he shouldn't be alive for this.

His heart was torn out of his chest, and somehow it's still beating, erratic and racing.

"Hmm," one of the soldiers says, tilting his heart this way and that. "Feels real."

The soldier squeezes it, and this time Steve screams at the pressure tightening around his heart, making him convulse in his bonds.

The second soldier laughs.

"They're making such good fakes these days," the second soldier says.

The first soldier relaxes his grip, and Steve sucks in ragged gulps of air, too disoriented to really understand what they're saying.

"Much more sophisticated than patches and paint," the first soldier agrees. "What good would a spy be if he showed his real heart?"

"No," Steve protests. "It's real, come on, you can feel it."

There’s no sign of deception from his heart, but it's beating too wildly from the pain to really make a difference.

"We'll see about that," the second soldier says, handing a switchblade to the first.

The first soldier presses the flat of the blade against his heart. "Let's see what's underneath if we shave a little off?"

—

Steve doesn't really remember anything after that. He must have passed out, because the next thing he hears is Robin's voice, and he realizes he's in a different room, tied back to back with her.

His chest aches.

Everything aches, really, but his chest is the worst of it.

Steve looks down, sees himself solid and in one piece again. He might have thought the whole thing was just a pain induced hallucination if it weren't for the unstable beat of his heart. It's pulsing unsteadily, and he feels as though if he even breathes too hard, it might burst into pieces with the next beat.

But he's not alone now.

He's with Robin, and she makes everything better, and even though his heart beats too fast when he thinks of how much he likes her - it's the good kind of too fast, not the kind that makes him think his heart is going to explode.

He is pretty sure that his heart is going to explode, though, that they're probably going to die here. He knows Robin is thinking the same thing - he just knows, like going through Russian secret agent torture together has made them automatically on the same wave length.

They were heading towards being friends before this, he knows, wonders if maybe they could have ever been for real.

It's a shame he doesn't think he'll ever get to find out.

—

Dustin and Erica find them before Steve loses any fingers.

Which is good. He might not be on the basketball team anymore, but he still plays with Lucas sometimes, and he likes all of his fingers attached to his hand and not on the floor of a secret Russian base.

He tells Dustin that as they're escaping from said Russian secret base. Dustin looks a little pale, hugs him tight around the middle, which makes Steve laugh - it should hurt, he thinks, but he doesn't feel a thing.

The only thing he feels is kind of floaty, and the itchy, overheated sensation he always gets when he's had his heart locked inside his chest for too long.

When no one's looking, Steve takes his heart out of his chest.

His stomach turns.

Whatever he's feeling about it seems distant, too far removed for him to be able to react to it, but the physical sensation of his stomach heaving is present and accounted for.

It only barely looks like a heart. The shape of it is hardly visible, more like a double handful of the precut chuck roast he gets to use as stew meat, sluggishly oozing every time it beats.

The thought of putting it back in his chest makes his stomach heave again, but even like this, he knows he can't keep it out in the open.

He rips off the red scarf from his Scoops uniform, wraps it around his heart to hold it together, and ties it off.

There.

Now no one will notice.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

-----

Part 6

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @samsoble @persnicketysquares @cryptid-system @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse

[nastybuckybarnes]

Escape Plans

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Summary: Ghost does all he can to stop you from leaving.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language,

Word Count: 1.6K

A/n: for @daugherofneptune because yeahhhh sorryy but give your dog another boop for me

~*~

Simon manages to break his personal record with bladder-holding, but eventually, he leaves his quarters to deal with his needs.

For a while he was tempted to re-purpose the garbage can beside his desk, but eventually decided that would probably be a little too messy.

So, after a few more minutes of careful deliberation, he lets you know his plans to leave, then exits his quarters.

The sound of the door closing is all you need to hear to yank the bathroom door open, rushing into the room and quickly getting dressed.

Your fingers tremble as you start executing your plan.

You only have a few minutes before he gets back, and you still need to leave his quarters without being seen.

As quickly as you can, you pile on a few of his heavier sweaters and some extra socks, then shove two pairs of pants on your legs.

An extra balaclava is tucked safely into your pocket, and then you're turning to the door ready to make good your escape.

Unfortunately, your plans are thwarted by the door opening.

Your heart jumps into your throat and your eyes widen when they meet Simon's.

He pauses for a moment, a brow raising.

"Going out?" He asks.

You frown up at him, trying to step around him only for him to mirror you.

"Going," you try, stepping the other way only for him to do the same.

"I see that. Where?"

You huff out an angry breath and glare up at him.

"Anywhere. Any place that is not here. That will be better."

He doesn't say anything, just stares at you.

"I... I go back to city. Safer there."

Simon scoffs and shakes his head, "you don't really believe that, do you?"

Your glare hardens.

"I stay in city for long time and I survive. I don't get hurt. I stay with you for weeks... get hurt many times."

He sighs, dropping his gaze for a moment then reaching toward you, his heart hurting when you step just out of his reach.

"Mouse, I know. And I'm sorry. It won't happen again-"

"No! I don't want to stay. Please."

If his heart hurt before, it's absolutely shattered now.

"It won't be much longer now. Can you hold out for just a little bit? Please."

You cross your arms over your chest and glare at the ground as tears well up in your eyes.

"Why? So that next time you go they can find me again? Hurt me again?"

"That won't happen," he says darkly, "they know, all of them, that nothing comes between you and me."

It's true.

Matthew's screams could be heard even from how far in the forest Ghost had taken him.

When he returned to base with lighter shoulders and blood splattered on his face, nobody even glanced at him for fear of being next.

Simon cups your jaw and the side of your neck with one hand and uses the other hand to push your hair aside.

"M'not gonna lose you, Mouse. Not when 've only just found you."

Your bottom lip starts to wobble and you pull your eyes from his.

"Look at me."

After a few heartbeats, you reluctantly bring your gaze back to his.

Gently, he takes your hand and puts it on his chest.

"This. You feel this in here?" He asks.

You don't answer right away.

No, instead you wait until you feel the rhythmic thumping before you nod.

"That belongs to you, got it?"

You nod at him.

"And you? You belong to me. And you must be outta your mind if you think m'gonna let what's mine walk out like that."

His words make your belly flip and you sigh, leaning your face into his hand.

"I don't like it here," you whisper.

"I know, Mouse. But soon I'll take you away from here. You won't have to worry about any of this ever again, I swear."

You tug your head back a bit and look up at him.

"Where will we go?"

He shrugs, tugging you into a hug and stepping further into the room.

"Anywhere you want. The city, the country, the ocean, the mountains. Wherever you want."

You're quiet for a good few moments before finally snuggling closer to him.

"Fine. But I don't leave."

"Good." That's exactly what he wants.

"No. This room. I don't leave."

Oh. Not what he really wants.

"You're gonna stay in this room for the next several weeks? Mouse, these walls are gonna get borin' to look at."

You slowly pull back to look up at him, and he wonders what he's said to deserve such a bitch-face.

"I live in cage before here. Walls will be fine."

He has no rebuttal.

"Well, I can bring you somethin'. Anythin' to make your stay better... more comfortable. Anythin' you need or want, jus say the word and I'll get it for you."

Your brows draw together.

You don't need anything.

Seeing the look on your face, he's quick to chime in with things he thinks you may like.

"What about more sketchbooks?"

That would be nice.

Slowly you nod.

"I can bring you a tablet, too. S'you can watch movies. We don't exactly have award winners, but some classics'll keep you occupied for the next little while," he rambles.

A frown finds your lips.

"What is tablet?"

Simon chuckles softly, kissing the top of your head tenderly.

"Oh, you're gonna love it. Can get ya almost anything with the touch of a button."

True to his word, he gets you set up with a tablet and several new sketchbooks, and spends a good portion of the afternoon showing you how to work the tablet.

"You'll have restricted access, but you know where to go if you have questions, and where to go if you want to watch movies. If you want anything else, you tell me. Okay?"

You don't say anything, only nod.

The corners of his mouth drop the tiniest bit when he notices the way you're avoiding his eyes once again.

"Mouse... you know that... that I put you down there because I had to. It was the only way for them to believe me. You know that I would never put you through that if there was any other choice, right?"

You nod again, sniffling and turning away from him the tiniest bit.

You know it's not his fault. You know that. You know that if there had been any other way for him to convince his team that you were innocent, he would've done it.

That doesn't change the fact that it was his face behind those bars. His hands that locked the door.

"Look at me. Please."

You flutter your eyes up to his, not bothering to mask the sadness you feel.

"When you go... lock door."

He's a little surprised by your words but nods his understanding.

"I will."

Though it goes directly against the rules, he swapped his door handle with the one on Soap's bathroom door. Prick can earn his privacy back.

Now, there's one added measure between you and the men on base. He wishes it wasn't necessary, but even he can only defend his men for so long.

"I'll lock the door and you open it to no one but me."

"You will bring key."

He blinks a few times before nodding once more.

"I will bring a key. That way you don't have to worry. Only person coming in and out of here will be me."

You look down again, fingers tapping the tablet gently as anxiety eats a hole in your stomach.

Simon's moving before he understands what he's doing, carefully taking off the chain around his neck.

"Here. I want you to have this."

You glance over to him, brows drawing together when he holds his dog tags out to you.

"You'll always have a piece of me. N'you know if you're with me nothin's gonna happen to you."

Though you don't fully understand the meaning of his words, the weight of them is not lost on you. You can feel the importance, the significance.

And so you let him carefully put them on you.

His eyes are focused on where they rest on your chest, on top of your heart.

Carefully, he cups your cheek and slides his thumb over your soft skin.

"You've no idea what you mean to me, Mouse. No idea. Almost wish you coulda been there to see what happened to that prick for what he did."

He means it when he says that, too.

He wishes you could've been there to see exactly what he did to him. Wishes you could've heard his apologies, his pathetic attempts at pleading for his life.

But the last thing he wants is for you to be scared of him.

"What... what did you do?" You ask, looking at him nervously.

His thumb drags over your bottom lip and he sighs.

"A lot. A lot of bad... horrible things. Hurt him real bad. And then I let him die. 'Cause that's what happens to people who hurt you. And I'll never forgive myself for being one of them."

You nod slowly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth then sighing gently.

"How long until we go home?" You ask after another moment, slowly bringing your hand up to his chest.

"A few weeks. Not much longer, and then it'll be jus' you and me."

Slowly, you nod.

You can do a few more weeks.

A few more weeks, then you start your new life in your new home with your Ghost.

With Simon.

Your Simon.

[nothomegal]

"Kiss. Teach. Love!"

(Mr. Crawling x GN! Reader)

No way, NotHomeGal actually revived? Yup, I did. Homicipher brought me back to life from the depts of my creative burnout (o゜▽゜)o☆

This game really scratched a part of my brain I didn't know was there, but I'm not complaining!

And no, I won't be abandoning the slasher fandom, but I must say it will take some time to come back to write those right now, but I'll do my best to rekindle that spark!

Okay, enough of my yapping. Hope you enjoy this Oneshot (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Summary: after learning that sometimes objects from the human world may fall into the realm you're currently stuck in, it became a common activity for you to scavenge around the junk to pass time, and your ghost companion always seems so curious about it!

Warnings: none really just fluff, Mr. Crawling being too cute for a mortal soul to handle.

Side note: yeah just like in most (basically all) of my fics, MC (or Y/N) will be Gender Neutral! So everyone gets to enjoy the story with their favorite ghost man :]

AND! Here's the link of the dictionary I used for the fic to put ghost words heheerhkj.

Word count: 3.6k

It's been so long, they think at least. Time feels stuck in place, yet in the deepest part of (Y/N)'s conscience they know it's not true, that the time and everything outside these lifeless concrete walls is very much alive.

Life goes on, it keeps moving regardless if they feel it or not, time is passing just like it always did... Yet, they feel stuck. Numb. It's like their mind and soul are slowly melting, becoming one with this dimension they begrudgingly started to call "home", even if it's not... This is not their real home!...

It's not!...

It's not...

It's not...?

—"☨ д つ 々?"— (Sad)

A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips when suddenly something brushed against their leg as that soft voice spoke next to them, that "something" being the very long, dark hair of their ghost companion.

They turn their head, almost flinching at the sight of how close Mr. Crawling was to them. Shoot, sometimes they forget how unnerving his appearance is, especially when he creeps up on them like this, though unintentionally.

—"ત ટ д ☨ д つ 々?"— (You Sad)

He repeated the question, his usual smile now replaced with a small frown. His voice quiet and soft as always, but with that subtle quiver at the end that appeared whenever he's concerned.

(Y/N)'s breath almost hitched from that little but oh so sweet display of care. Even after all the time spent side by side with Mr. Crawling, they still periodically wonder what the hell did they do to deserve such kind perso... Ghost, in their life.

Before the entity's worry could grow, (Y/N) flashed him with a smile, shaking their head a little.

—"I'm alright, just a little distracted."—

Their answer did seem to soothe the ghost's worry a little. However, he leaned closer, more of his hair falling into (Y/N)'s body, sending small shiver through their form as the black locks brushed their legs, sensation that resembling a small breeze of air running across their skin. An odd, chilly feeling... But one that became very comforting and grounding for the human over the time, as it was like a gentle reminder of Mr. Crawling's presence, that they weren't alone.

—"つ ત บ บ λ ป こ ৺ נ ८ ک ટ ? つ ત บ บ つ ኟ บ ટ ?"— (Not Bad Feel Not Scared)

Their smile faltered for a brief moment, knowing exactly what he was talking about...

Even if it's been quite a while since (Y/N) had one of those episodes of fear and hallucinations, the memories of them are still haunting the human in one way or another, leaving this uncomfortable sensation under their skin. It's like feeling hands, snaking all over their body, slowly slipping under their clothes, creeping through their skin and flesh, trying to dig deeper and deeper, right to their very core, trying to reach something so deep inside of them and rip it away from them...

Their essence?

Their soul?

T̵͉̗̒ḣ̴̻̱̂ȅ̷͓͘i̵̤͙̐͝ȑ̶͈̖̏ n̷̳̻̬̮̯̟̗̙̩̻̮͊͋̾́͐͌̏͒̿̏̆̑͜͠ä̴̢̧̡̦͕̻̙̻͕̳̟́̊͊̾̄̈́ḿ̵̡̢̛̜͉̗̗̞͖̟͈̬͈̻͍͌̋̓̐̅͘͠e̵͇̹͈̤͕̮̺͉͚͈͔̭͇̔-?

The human then simply hums, shaking off the heavy feeling off their mind. Their gaze soon focuses back on Mr. Crawling's face, their smile creeping back on their features, but now brighter, happier.

—"つ ત บ บ λ ป こ ৺ נ ८ ک ટ . つ ત บ บ ጉ ሰ ટ נ."— (Not Bad Feel Not Together)

They replied cheerfully, confidently using the otherworldly language to make sure there is no room for doubts left.

Upon hearing their answer and seeing that smile he absolutely adored, Mr. Crawling himself smiles back, letting that characteristic high-pitched giggle of of his. And just like (Y/N) expected, the crawling ghost reached out and gently patted their head, ruffling their grayish hair a little.

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป ! ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (Glad Glad)

(Y/N) giggled as well, already used to Mr. Crawling's joyful chirps at whatever little thing they do. Once satisfied, the ghost slowly retires his hand from their head and leans back to his previous position right next to the human in a raincoat, his dark locks trailing behind and sliding off (Y/N)'s legs as he gives them a little bit of space.

They hum, that happy smile remaining on their lips, brightening a bit their bandage-covered face, returning some of color and life to it. The human soon shift their attention back to what they were previously up to, which was scavenging and going through all the junk and rumble that fell down here from the human world.

While (Y/N) is the one going through the numerous items, Mr. Crawling remained focused on them. Staying next to their crouched form and curiously watching the things they periodically picked up and inspected, sometimes even picking something himself and asking what it is and what humans do with it.

The activity was simple, but it was like a huge breath of air for (Y/N) and a great way to distract their mind from the decay this world was putting them through, helping them remember who they are and what are supposed to be. A human, an unfortunate human that found themselves in this place of absolute madness...

(Y/N)'s train of thoughts stopped when their eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of something bright and colorful under a small pile of old, messed news articles. And after carefully pushing aside all the trash, they get a clear sight of what it is.

A manga cover!

(Y/N)'s eyes widened and their smile grew as they reach out and grab the manga book, picking it up and instantly flipping through the pages.

—"No way, it's actually in good, readable condition!"—

They exclaimed excitedly, eyes wandering through the pages with interest.

Mr. Crawling simply observed, curiously watching them inspect the book. He noticed that (Y/N) would always get super excited whenever they saw one of these colorful pictures, and it made him happy to see them happy! As well as to keep a mental note to find more of these to make them even happier.

However, as the human paused on one of the pages, probably to check if the paper is holding up alright after getting a little wet. Something completely different caught the ghost's attention.

Slowly, Mr. Crawling reaches his hand again, pointing at a particular drawing with his finger while tilting his head to the side, like a confused puppy would.

—"נ บ ਦ ኟィд ⊔ ટ ৺ ㅗ?"— (What They Do)

He asked, gently tapping the picture with his finger.

(Y/N) glances at the spot their ghost companion is pointing at, their eyebrows rising slightly as they see an illustration of two of the characters kissing. Oh, did they just spoiled themselves one of the subplots?...

—"This?"—

They asks, eyes flickering between the comic and Mr. Crawling's face.

—"π々⊔ λ ک つ ત コ ጉ ک こ?"— (Why Touch Mouth)

The ghost asked again, genuine curiosity lingering in his quiet voice as he taps the paper again, his head turning to the side to look at (Y/N). Despite half of his face being covered by his dark hair, they could practically feel his curious stare, almost like a kid waiting for his parent to answer.

—"ک  ጉ ㄷ π π々⊔ ?"— (Teach Why)

He asks, now his attention completely casted on (Y/N), patiently waiting for their answer.

The mentioned human stays silent at fist, seemingly surprised the ghost actually doesn't know what a kiss is and why people do it. However, the more they think about it, the less he can blame Mr. Crawling. After all, this world is not built for affection, and considering all the dangers that lurk here on daily basis, it's not too surprising that some residents of this place don't even know what affection is.

—"Well. This is called a kiss, 'kiss'."—

They explain, pointing at their lips as they spell the word for him.

—"K- K̴̻̍-K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾-?"—

He attempts to repeat, though the sound comes more as a hiss rather than an actual word... Still, (Y/N) was proud of him for trying! And expresses such joy with a soft giggle.

—"Yeah, kiss. Uh..."—

They paused, thinking over their wording before continuing.

—"☨ บ п ป Kiss ત λ コㄷ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ."— (Human _ Desire Teach Love)

They finish, scratching their cheek with a sheepish smile, knowing that their explanation probably sounded wonky a weird, especially with that little mix between languages.

The ghost, makes a small "oh" sound, actually understanding their answer even with the odd wording.

Suddenly, Mr. Crawling's face lightens in puppy-like joy as he leans closer, his face just inches away from the human's when he starts to chirp back.

—"ત λ コㄷ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ! "— (Desire Teach Love)

(Y/N) raised their eyebrows at his words, their cheeks suddenly feeling a little warmer.

(Hold on, is he asking me for a kiss?!)

As flustered as they were, upon seeing that excited, happy smile of the ghost that they grew so attached to, they couldn't find the heart to tell him no even if their life depended on it. Beside, it's just a kiss, and they both like each other! So why not?

—"Eh... Hehehe. Okay, okay. You kiss like this."—

They answer, before suddenly leaning forward and pressing their lips against the cold skin of his cheek.

A soft, quiet gasp escaped the ghost's lips, the difference in temperature between his and (Y/N) body never failing to make his chest feel all funny, though not unpleasant type of funny. But now with the added softness of their lips and the hot breath casted on his face, it created a sensation he haven't felt before.

The human leans back a little, chuckling under their breath at the ghost's reaction. However, their smile begin to fade when they notice how still he suddenly got.

They go silent, patiently waiting for Mr. Crawling to say or do something, but he remained perfectly still and dead silent, like some kind of creepy statue. Did they just cross some boundary they didn't know about?...

—"Mr. Crawling?..."— you ask eventually, voice quiet. —"Are you alright? Did I-..."—

(Y/N) paused when he finally does move, slowly lifting his hand from the opened manga book and brushing his fingers against his cheek, right on the spot they kissed him a second ago.

Suddenly, another high-pitched giggle escaped the ghost as he immediately launches forward, forcing (Y/N) back and basically tackling them to the ground into that famous overzealous hug of his they came to secretly adore.

—"K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾ ! K̶̥͔̒ḭ̷̢̆̾ṣ̵̠͊s̵̮̎̾ !"—

He cheerfully exclaims with his broken human speech, before mimicking (Y/N)'s action and pressing his lips against their cheek. Though, more than an kiss his gesture resembled a nuzzle, like big dog gently bumping his favorite person with his nose.

—"৺ ጉ נ ⊔ λ ત д ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ! "— (Me Want to Teach Love)

(Y/N) just couldn't help but laugh at the sweet action of the ghost, their cheeks turning much redder and warmer than before. With their hands no longer being occupied by the manga book, they reach and rest their hands on Mr. Crawling's back, basically hugging him back as the entity continues to joyfully express his liking through the newfound gesture.

—"You're doing it pretty good! But this is not exactly a kiss..."—

They eventually say, sliding their hands from his back and instead resting them on his shoulders. At the sound of their voice, Mr. Crawling's affectionate nuzzles pause and leans back, tilting his head to the side with curiosity.

—"Yeah, you need to press your lips, not caress with them. Ehm..."—

They fall silent, their gaze adverting for a brief moment as they try to find the needed words to describe what they're trying to say, but all they get is a reminder of how poor and limited the ghost vocabulary is...

Mr. Crawling remained quiet, patiently waiting for (Y/N) to figure out their wording. He didn't mind the wait at all to be honest, patience being one of his biggest virtues after all. Beside, seeing the human mumble and emit noises under their breath while making funny faces, such as pushing their lips or furrowing their brows, was a very cute sight to witness!

When realized that words, human or not, won't cut it. (Y/N) decided to use actions instead, as their head was starting to hurt at this point from this damn language barrier. So, with a soft sigh their eyes flicker back at Mr. Crawling, who was still patiently waiting for them to figure out their wording, or maybe taking the chance to look and admire their face, or maybe both...

—"৺ ጉ נ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ત ટ д Kiss."— (Me Teach You)

They finally said, a hint of determination in their tone, though it was mostly directed to (Y/N) as they try to push through their own sudden rush of shyness and fluster. How comes they can be all giggly and cuddly when Mr. Crawling literally tackles them, but then turn into a blushing mess from a little kiss?! Ugh, even they start to make less sense the more they stay in this world...

At their words, the ghost seemed almost ecstatic. He already was eager to get any sort of attention from (Y/N), let alone affection. So the mere thought of feeling their lips pressed against his skin again made his whole body almost shake.

(Y/N) could feel the ghost's body grow tense from the overwhelming joy, and it was such a strangely endearing sight to witness; an otherworldly entity acting like an overjoyed puppy about to receive his favorite treat.

They giggle again, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze before speaking.

—"Okay hehe... Eeh... Look, you kiss like this, 々ኟп৺."— (Look)

They say before leaning closer, the distance between their and Mr. Crawling's face growing smaller and smaller, until their lips finally come in contact with the ghost's other cheek.

They can feel him shiver, clearly still not used to the new sensation, but he was definitely loving it judging by the way his long arms slightly closed around their body, almost hugging them and pressing their smaller form against his taller one.

(Y/N) leans back a tiny bit, taking the chance to simply look at the entity who was holding them in it's embrace so tenderly. Of course, this is not the first, nor last, time they'll be held by Mr. Crawling. But... Right now, there's something different, they feel different. Their heart is pounding like crazy, yes. But they no longer feel flustered or embarrassed, they feel strangely in peace in fact.

There's always been something captivating about the crawling ghost, even with his unnerving traces. The way his long, black hair surrounds them, a void that's isolating both from the outside world, covering them like a veil, making each the protagonist of the other's gaze. For a monster-filled place like this, the moment felt almost romantic.

The human let a soft exhale, their lips parting ever so slightly. And before their brain could even realize it, (Y/N) was already leaning forward again.

They don't know what came over them, but their mind, their heart, and even that little voice was telling them the same thing...

{Do it.)

They press their lips again, this time against the tip of his nose, getting one of these little "eh" sounds out of him.

They didn't stop there however, instead starting to pepper the ghost's face with more kisses. His cheeks, his forehead, his jaw...

(Y/N)'s movements were slow and delicate, keeping in mind the comfort of their otherworldly companion as they shower him with this new, intimate affection. They weren't quite sure what he was thinking about all of this, if he was getting overwhelmed or not, if he truly enjoyed or understood how much this moment meant for humans... But by how his arms seem to close more around their smaller form, how his fingers flex around the fabric of their raincoat, how his body seemed to gradually relax and even lean into the new, loving gesture...

Yeah, they knew he understood.

However, as (Y/N) was about to reach his lips, an inexplicable wave of hesitation came all over them, freezing them in place and incapacitating from moving back of forward, their heartbeat getting surprisingly, almost painfully loud.

(What's going on?)

(Why am I feeling so... Self-conscious?)

(No... No. I want to do it, I need to do it! Come on body, move! Move god damnit!)

They screamed inside of their mind, yet their body still refused to move, regardless of all the mental berating they were putting themselves through. Their grip on Mr. Crawling's shoulder tightened a little, like a silent attempt to ground themselves and remember just how close the ghost was, how he was waiting for them to continue, how he was waiting for them. But... They... They just couldn't move.

However, after a few beats of silence and inactivity had passed, is Mr. Crawling the one to finally break the tension and lean forward, his cold lips pressing against the warm ones of the human.

And just like that, all the doubts and hesitations had melted away in (Y/N), and everything felt alright again. No, more than alright. This felt perfect, intimate, sweet, and surprisingly innocent. Holding nothing but the affection, care and love the two beings felt for one another, now in it's purest way.

A human.

And a ghost.

Together, connected to each other not just in a physical way, but now in a deep, emotional way...

The kiss itself probably didn't last even 10 seconds, but in (Y/N)'s and Mr. Crawling's mind it felt like two eternities had passed, and many more would if they'd decided to keep going.

After breaking the kiss, the two just stay like this for a while, looking at each other as their minds clear from the haze and feeling of drunkenness the sweet exchange left behind. Mr. Crawling still on top of (Y/N), but instead of just hovering over them like he always did, now his arms were tightly wrapped around their frame, keeping them securely in place right between the ground and his body.

(Y/N) couldn't explain it, but right now they feel like they're falling again for the ghost. Just by being held in his embrace and hidden underneath his larger body, they felt so safe and at peace... So...

It's like they were home.

Their home...

He became their home, their safe place, their happy place...

Him...

—"λ ک ሰ ৺ ટ ?"— (Are you okay)

Mr. Crawling suddenly asked, his smile faltering as his embrace on them tightens a little. It was almost like he was concerned he did something wrong and broke them, what a sweetheart.

(Y/N) blinked, noticing they were probably staring and zoning out with this little realization of theirs, realization that their real home was not in this or their world.

It was with Mr. Crawling.

Or at least, that's what their heart told them.

—"I'm fine."—

The human said in a soft voice. Their body leaning forward while speaking, snuggling closer to the ghost's chest, the action feeling like a little dejavu to the time he hid them from the man in red.

Ugh... The sole mention of that guy is still sending shivers through their body, so let's not think about him.

—"৺コኅ ጉ ሰ ટ נ ৺ ጉ נ ሰ ኟ つ ጉ."— (Us Together Me Happy)

Mr. Crawling didn't take long to let yet another high-pitched giggle, his head coming to rest on top of (Y/N)'s, nuzzling gently against their hair and raincoat hood.

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป ! ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (Glad Glad)

He chirped cheerfully, his arms tightening just a little to give the human a gentle squeeze.

—"ત ટ д ሰ ኟ つ ጉ ৺ ጉ נ ㄷコ ਦ υ ป !"— (You Happy Me Grateful)

—"৺ ጉ נ ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д !"— (Me Like You)

—"৺ ጉ נ ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ጉ ሰ ટ נ ત ટ д !"— (Me Like Together You)

All (Y/N) could do at the moment is giggle and attempt to keep up with his excitement. Jeez, they forgot how talkative Mr. Crawling gets when excited. They reach out at some point, affectionately rubbing his back like a quiet request to slow down, which the ghost quickly complies by stopping his speech and instead resorting just to the nuzzling.

The two remained like this for quite a while, just enjoying this precious moment of having each other close. Even if they knew that the next time (Y/N) needs to take a nap, they'll be in embraced again.

—"Alright, that's enough for now.—

The human muttered, giving the ghost's back a few gentle pats like a way of saying that they wanted him to move.

Mr. Crawling doesn't try to protest at all, surprisingly. And after giving one more squeeze, his arms loosen around (Y/N)'s form and he slowly lets go, his body getting off them and instead settling right by their side. That's probably the reason he didn't complain about letting go, knowing he'd be next to them one way or another.

(Y/N) chuckled again at the ghost's sneaky antics, finding them pretty adorable. And after reaching out to pat his head again, the human settles into a more comfortable position and grabs the manga book they previously dropped from Mr. Crawling's surprise-tackle-hug.

—"Okay, let's see what this is about..."—

The human muttered to themselves while opening the book and starting to read the story, deciding to go blind into it and discover the plot as they progress with the story.

Mr. Crawling in the meantime had found his comfortable spot by placing his head against (Y/N)'s shoulder, with one of his arms resting across their waist, keeping them in this half hug.

Even if the ghost didn't understand a word, the illustrations of the manga were very helpful and allowed him to follow the story along with the human. Though there were things he also didn't quite understand about human behavior, it wasn't a big deal since (Y/N) would always chive in and explain him things.

As the two lay there, reading, Mr. Crawling suddenly lifted his head and pressed his lips against (Y/N)'s cheek gently, this time actually kissing them.

—"৺ ጉ נ ک  ጉ ㄷ π ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д ! "— (Me Teach Love You)

He said in a sweet, happy tone that nearly made (Y/N)'s heart explode. Ugh, seriously who gave him the right to be so cute!?

—"ㄷコ ਦ υ ป."— (Grateful)

—"ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ৺ ጉ נ ?"— (Like Me)

(Aaand there he goes again. Yup, high-maintenance type...)

(But he's my high-maintenance type.)

—"ㄷ ८ コ ㅗ ત ટ д."— (Like You)

They replied warmly, planting another kiss on top of his head, gaining yet another lovely giggle from the entity before returning their attention to the manga. The ghost soon following their example, settling back into his previous position, occasionally nuzzling against their shoulder like an affectionate cat. They could swear he'd be purring if he could.

And while reading the manga, (Y/N) couldn't help but smile, but also dread a little at how the next days would go now that Mr. Crawling learned about kissing and what it meant...

...

They're going to get tackled A LOT.

"Won't they?"

[amphibiahawks321]

Lyney : Come on, this new illusion will leave everyone in awe! Trust me! The risk is worth it

Lynette : Worth it? Worth it for who? If something goes wrong, we'll ruin our reputation, think it through...

Freminet : I.... I'm not really sure I can get the mechanism to work perfectly under pressure...

Lynette : it's alright freminet, you're just being realistic cause it is a lot of work, something lyney should listen to...

Lyney : Wait now just for a second! I'm just saying that–

[Meanwhile, in the other room (Y/N and Arlecchino's bedroom) Y/N trying to fall asleep but can't due to the sound of the three's while arlecchino reading a book]

[Arlecchino starts rubbing her temples]

Arlecchino : Sighs... If they don't stop arguing in the next five seconds, I swear I'm sending those three on separate missions to the opposite ends of tevyat....

M!Reader : Weeeell... I wouldn't go THAT far–

Arlecchino : they've been going at it for an hour and a half....

M!Reader : ......Good point

M!Reader : You can't really blame them too much they're siblings, and that's just... How siblings are, y'know?

[Arlecchino shooting Y/N a sharp look but still with her soft tone]

Arlecchino : Sighs... I get what you're trying to say sweetheart, but you do remember last time when they almost kept us up all night debating which dessert was better right....

M!Reader : H-Hehe well, that was about cake, this seems... Slightly more serious

Arlecchino : Groans Oh of course, very serious, the fate of the world is hanging on what kind of performance they'll have to appeal to audiences, that means the rest of us have to endure their bickering...

[Y/N nudges Arlecchino playfully]

M!Reader : Come on, don't act like you don't care about them

[Arlecchino exhales sharply]

Arlecchino : I never said I didn't care, but caring doesn't mean I have to enjoy their endless squabbling

[Arlecchino glances at Y/N, her expression softening further]

Arlecchino : And right now, all I want is some peace and quiet... With you....

[Y/N smiles warmly as arlecchino brush her hand with his fingers]

M!Reader : I'd like that too, want me to go and cool them down? Maybe i can get them to quiet down–

[Arlecchino immediately grabbed his hand to stop him, her tone firm but affectionate]

Arlecchino : No, you'll just end up getting dragged into their bickering, and I'll be stuck here waiting for you... Let them tire themselves out, you're staying right here...

M!Reader : Chuckles... Leans closer... Bossy as ever, huh?~

[Arlecchino smirking, leaning her head lightly on his shoulder]

Arlecchino : You love it...

[Y/N wrapping an arm around her]

M!Reader : Yeah, I do~

[davinawritings]

Hi, i found your blog and see you open request so I'll try my luck here. Please if you wouldn't mind writing an alien x human (f! Reader) with forced kiss/forced makeout (or literally just the alien tongue-fucking reader's mouth) it doesn't have to be smut or having sexual intercourse but if you want to add it that'll be up to you.

Thanks ✨

Hello! Thank you so much for the request ❤️ I hope you enjoy 💕🖤❤️

Warning: Forced makeout, cheating

Aliens made contact with Earth four years ago, and the two different species have made a vow of peace. Over the last few years, many aliens and humans have participated in an exchange program of sorts. The alien and human will exchange lives for six months, giving each species the opportunity to learn more about the other. Your boyfriend decided to sign up, and within a month, the arrangements had been made.

It has been just over 2 months since your boyfriend left Earth, and Eltath has come to live with you in your boyfriend’s place. You have come to really enjoy Eltath’s company. He was always kind and loved when you taught or showed him new things about the earth. He also happily answered any of your questions as well.

Today was like many others. You took him exploring around the city. Most of the days were spent just walking and talking with each other. You had decided on a quiet night in with some movies, something Eltath had come to enjoy very much in his time on earth.

You had previously stuck to history and nature documentaries, wanting to give Eltath all the knowledge you could, but you wanted to give you both a break from learning. After flipping through your options, you finally landed on a romantic comedy, one of your favorites.

You both watched in silence, with the occasional laugh, until the end, when the two main characters finally got together and shared a passionate kiss.

You could hear the innocent curiosity in Eltath’s voice when he asked, “What are they doing? They are pressing their mouths together”. The questions catch you off guard. You had not considered the fact that aliens may have alternative courting rituals and displays of affection. Your cheeks warm with slight embarrassment as you attempt to straighten your thoughts and provide him with an answer.

“Well, Eltath, they are kissing. On earth, it is a way to show someone you like them, a form of affection that humans show each other,” you replied, trying to give a more simple answer.

He nods before asking, “So when humans want to show another human they like them, then just press their mouths together? And all humans do that”.

You fiddle with your hands as you attempt to explain better, feeling slightly awkward with the conversation. “Not all humans kiss each other. It is only with others that you like and one may give different types of kisses. A small kiss on the cheek can signify love or care, while a kiss on the mouth signifies much deeper care and likeness for someone. Then with the people you really like, you may have a deeper kiss using tongues”.

Within seconds, he has moved next to you on your couch and has your face cradled in his large hands. You open your mouth to question him, but before you get a single word out, his long tongue enters your mouth. His tongue is much longer and thicker than a human’s, and he uses it to explore the entirety of your mouth.

You whimper and try to get his attention by pushing on his body, but he just keeps you held firmly in place. You work on breathing through your nose as Eltath seems to have no intentions of pulling out to let you breathe.

Tears spring to your eyes as he moves further back, using the tip of his tongue to start exploring your throat. He pushes forward and pulls it back rapidly, essentially fucking your mouth with his large tongue. You whimper helplessly, knowing this is wrong. You have a boyfriend, and yet here you are getting tongue fucked by an alien. And worse, you can’t help but get turned on by his actions, feeling your pussy start to get wet from him using your mouth.

Suddenly, Eltath pulls away, and you gasp for breath. You stay still as you watch him smile and say, “I like you very much, so that is how we will show each other from now on. Good night. I will see you in the morning for breakfast, and perhaps I will show you how we show our affection on my planet,” he says before walking to the guest bedroom.

As you lay in bed trying to sleep hours later, you wonder how you will explain to him that it is only your boyfriend who should be kissing you like that, though kisses with your boyfriend had never felt so intense or gotten you wet as Eltath did. Eltath also said he would show you how his kind shows affection. You don’t want to confuse him even more on human affection before he can show you alien affection. It just makes sense to wait for now. Right?

🖤💕❤️❤️💕🖤

[misc-magic]

Ohh thank you for the tag, Eden!!

Mwahaha I gave myself cat ears because why not, right?? Also there were no freckles, so I went with those little diamonds instead lol.

how do you spend your free time?

I spend what little free time I have writing, doing a couple other hobbies, and trying to keep on top of my house, chores, and errands. And you know, trying to do it effectively despite the adhd lol!

what are your hobbies and how did you get into them?

I don't usually list writing as a hobby because it's more like my life's blood. I get irritable if I don't write. But my other main hobby is music. I play the piano almost every day. My guitar and ukulele are collecting some dust recently, but I will get back to those, too. Playing music is the most relaxing thing for me and I always end up wanting to pick instruments back up even if it's been a minute. As for how I got into it, I started playing the piano at the tender age of 9 and just never stopped lol. Reading is another big hobby of mine. I turned the formal dining room of my house into a library so I could have a place for all my piles of books. I'm in a reading slump currently, but I've learned to just let it be and eventually I will be consuming books like crazy again. This is another one I don't know the origin of, it's like I've been reading books as long as I can remember. (Other hobbies include crocheting, video games, DnD, journaling, and then there's a section of what I call "dead hobbies" as in I did them obsessively for a while but haven't done them in ages but might pick them up again in the future let us not discuss it adklfjkfj.)

what book or movie left a lasting impression on you?

This might be a really dorky answer, but... I read A Midsummer Night's Dream by good ole Billy Shakes when I was like twelve and it changed my brain chemistry forever. I don't know what it was about that play... I read a bunch of others around the same time and like I loved Macbeth and Othello and The Tempest. But there was something about all the fairies and fantasy that I think was the start of my obsession with all things magical lol.

what kind of music do you enjoy?

Ohhh it's constantly changing. When I'm listening to stuff with lyrics or that I want to sing along to, I'm really into folk, indie, jazz, neo soul, and k-pop, but like I also used to listen to a lot of alt rock and punk rock so I know a lot of those songs, too. I'll kinda switch between stuff, especially 90s rock is something I'll play when I'm feeling ~nostalgic~ lol. But when I'm listening to music for writing or concentration, it's all instrumental or in a language I can't speak. So I'm listening to a TON of piano music, classical, and lately my other obsession has been mandopop. I actually really love k-pop for this, too. It's like I can listen to these up beat poppy songs without getting distracted by the lyrics. And yo Mandarin is just a beautiful language to listen to. Anyway, I tend to like most music and I'm always looking for new stuff.

who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why?

Because I couldn't hope to choose one for all time, I'll go with at the moment and that is none other than the time traveling demon butler Barbatos.

(Assuming here that we're talking about characters that aren't mine because they top the list every time lol. Though actually even if I listed the ones that are at the top, nobody would know them because they aren't my OM OCs and I've never posted about them here lkdfjkfj.)

Barbatos is just such a great character that was horrendously underutilized in his source material. They kinda made him the end all be all solution for when things got out of hand. He could fix any plot hole with a bit of time travel or ancient demon power. But he has so much more depth than that. And maybe in some ways, he reminds me of myself. He's quiet, but observant. He notices everything, keeps track of all the details about someone, remembers everything. The main difference between us is that my adhd makes me scattered, so Barbatos feels like the type of person I have the potential to be if I could keep it together. It's less about the fantasy of someone taking care of me and more about the fantasy of being competent lol. What does this say about me? Let us not look any deeper.

He's also just really cool and mysterious and who doesn't love a guy who can cook, right? His demon form design is top notch in my opinion, with those cool wing like horns and the tail. He's just great in every way and I've written several essays about him on my side blog al;kdfjkdlfj.

Weee that was fun and as usual I wrote too much lol.

OPEN TAGS~ if you are my mutual consider yourself tagged because I want to see all your answers!

tag + q&a game ₊˚ෆ

hello! i thought it would be cute and exciting to do a tag game with all my mutuals to not only talk about themselves, but have fun! so here is my short little game:

alongside this picrew, share 5 things about yourself!

• how do you spend your free time? • what are your hobbies and how did you get into them? • what book or movie left a lasting impression on you? • what kind of music do you enjoy? • who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why?

i will start first!

my name is rurumi and i enjoy spending my free time writing!

some of my hobbies (outside of writing) includes: drawing, building gundams and keyboards, and fashion! i got into most of them on a whim and became instantly hooked. aside from self-expression, being into fashion also helps with making friends in college because you always have something to talk about!

a book that left a lasting impression on me would have to be either kafka on the shore by haruki murakami or before the coffee gets cold by toshikazu kawaguchi. both stories have kept me up at night thinking a lot about the 'what ifs' in life.

i enjoy soul/r&b alongside anything of jrock influence, but i will basically listen to anything that sounds good. i am currently listening to 'so what' by lucy!

my favorite character at the moment is rin itoshi from blue lock because hes so ridiculously edgy, but at the same time i sympathize with him a lot. on the other hand, my favorite character of all time is suletta mecury from the witch from mercury series, she's an absolute ball of sunshine that i aspire to be.

tagging (+ no pressure) ₊˚ෆ

@kaiser1ns @naenaex0xx @shomatoriashi @choccorin @ryescapades

@rindreamery @soleillunne @kissxcore @rainswept @mitsvriii

[lost-in-fandoms]

The first part of this has been spinning in my brain since last week but then it ran away from me and got long (3.6k) so it's on ao3 too.

Daniel wakes up to three calls from Max on his phone. Each call is accompanied by a voice message in their mostly quiet texts thread and the timestamps read 2:04am, 3:16am and 4:41am.

For a moment, he considers not listening to them. He is not sure his heart can take it: Max happy and celebrating his championship while he was alone, asleep in his bed, Los Angeles traffic the background noise that should have been Vegas fireworks instead.

But it's Max, and he never can keep Max out of his life, has never really wanted to, so he presses play.

Hello Daniel, the first message starts. Daniel can hear the noises of the garage almost overwhelming Max's voice, and it sends a pang of hurt through the still bleeding holes in his heart. You might be asleep, I don't remember what time it is where you are, but I wanted to say...I am...it does not matter.

There's a pause, the kind of pause in which Daniel can picture Max frowning, trying to figure out the sentence in his head, mouth left slightly open.

You are in LA, yes? I am in Vegas, of course, and flying out soon, but maybe we can...I'd like to see you. If you're free.

Daniel's heart lurches again, phone pressed against his ear almost slipping out of his grasp. There's something unreal about it. Max, sitting in a corner of the garage, fresh out of his fourth championship win, probably still smelling of champagne, asking to see him.

Daniel is fiercely glad he didn't pick up. He wouldn't have known what to say.

I think you are asleep. Call me when you wake up? Bye.

The first message ends, and the next one immediately starts. It's much quieter, Max's voice further away and accompanied by soft rustling sounds, as if he had left his phone on some kind of surface while he moves around the room.

Hello Daniel. Sorry, I know I said...and you're sleeping, so this does not make sense. I am maybe a bit drunk, but...

Max makes an annoyed sound, then his voice comes closer again, standing still this time.

I am going out, to celebrate, so I maybe will still be awake when you wake up. Will you call me, please? I know this is not, that you are trying to stay away, and I understand, but...please?

Another pause. Daniel can almost see him, standing in an hotel room, hair mussed by the quick change between the team kit and one of his usual plain t-shirts, fumbling his words trying to say what he wants to say without hurting Daniel. It's useless, Daniel aches anyway, but it's sweet that he tried.

He doesn't say goodbye this time, and Daniel startles when the next message plays, much louder in his ears, the booming sound of a party just barely softer than Max's voice, raised to make itself heard.

Hello Daniel, I am sorry, I know I asked twice already, I know I should not say this, but I won, and you're not here, and you should be here. I want to see you, Daniel. I'll be in LA tomorrow. Or today, I think, so if you want, you can call me. Or I will just go and it's okay. But you should be here. It's not right like this.

The voice message ends, leaving Daniel in stunned silence.

Max called three times just to say he wanted to see him.

He doesn't know how to feel. It's flattering, sure, to know that Max had just won his fourth title, was more or less on top of the world, and spent his night calling Daniel. It hurts too, to hear him saying you should be here, when they both know that Daniel would be there if he could. And it makes something else swirl in his stomach, something that has always been there when Max is involved, and only grew softer and steadier through the years.

He still has his phone pressed against his ear, even long after the messages have stopped playing, when it rings.

It makes him jump, grip fumbling, and he answers on instinct, without even checking caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Daniel."

Daniel blinks. He takes his phone away from his ear to check that yes, Max is calling him. At 9:31am.

"Daniel?"

Daniel considers hanging up. He doesn't.

"Hi, Max." It comes out softer than he intended, almost uncertain. He clears his throat, tries again. "How's the world champ doing?"

This time he overdoes it, voice forced and too loud, making him wince. Max makes a quiet sound on the other side, making Daniel think he winced too.

"I'm..okay. Drunk, maybe. A little. I saw you listening."

Straight to the point as always and saying the most insane things in the straightest voice tone.

I saw you listening. As if Max was sat there, looking at their chat, waiting for the ticks to go from grey to blue.

Maybe he had been.

"I, uhm, yeah I listened. And here we are, talking!" Daniel is glad they're calling and not facetiming, so he is free to hide his face in his empty hand, cringing. It's too early and he's too surprised for his brain to not be stupid, and these are the consequences.

Max chuckles anyway.

"We are. I," Max pauses, coughs slightly. Daniel hears him take a sip of something, wonders if it's water or more alcohol, even if Max doesn't really sound too drunk, words not even slurring. "I am on the plane, almost taking off."

I'll be in LA, Max had said. Daniel wasn't sure he had been serious, but he should have known. Max never says something he doesn't mean.

"I will be in LA, but only for today. I have to go to Europe, and then Qatar on Tuesday. Can you...are you free?"

"I am going hiking."

Daniel is glad his hand is already on his face, or he would have had to slap it there anyway. He is not going hiking, has no plans today really, but he doesn't know what is happening, and the idea of seeing Max is...overwhelming.

He feels stupid as soon as the words are out of his mouth, but he doesn't take them back.

"Okay," Max says slowly after a while. "Today?"

And because Daniel is apparently being extra stupid today, he nods, as if Max could see him.

"Yes, I...later today. Was just getting ready, you know? Feeling the fresh air, smelling the birds and the bees, all the good stuff!"

"The good stuff," Max echoes. Daniel maybe wants to die. "Okay."

"Yeah so, gotta run, Maxy! You have a good flight!"

He hangs up without giving Max a chance to reply, then he throws his phone down on the bed and flops back on the pillow, sighing out loud.

What a shitshow.

--

He only manages to get up after forty minutes of aggressive pep talk, telling himself that Max has done and said weirder and more awkward things in the past, and that it doesn't matter anyway.

Almost two hours later his doorbell rings.

Well, not his actual doorbell, the one from the gate, that alerts him there is a car there before whoever it is actually rings it. When he looks at the small screen, he sees Max getting out the passenger side of a car and head towards the button, frowning at it before pressing it.

The sound seems to echo slightly in Daniel's brain, and he's going to blame his ringing ears for the fact that he opens the gate, letting Max in.

He's still feeling a little out of it when he opens the front door, watching Max walk up the drive, a bag slung over his shoulders. He's wearing a cap, not Red Bull branded, a black t-shirt, not Alpha Tauri, and soft grey shorts.

He looks tired, as if he hasn't slept yet, but he smiles at Daniel with all his teeth.

Daniel just blinks back.

"I didn't know if you would be home, or on your hike, but I am glad you waited!" It's the first thing Max says when he comes close enough, like they do this all the time, like this isn't absurd.

He opens his arms, but doesn't reach for Daniel. As if Daniel would deny him this.

Max smells like sweat, alcohol, and airplane air conditioning. Daniel lets himself bury his face in his shoulder for exactly three seconds before pulling away.

"I didn't think you would come."

Max frowns, shifting his bag to his other shoulder. From this close, Daniel can see how his eyes are a bit bloodshot, his lips a little too red.

He tries not to look at his lips. Or his eyes.

"Of course, I said I would. You said we were going on a hike."

Daniel is pretty sure he didn't say that, but four time world champion Max Verstappen is on his doorstep, looking like he came straight from his own party to hike with Daniel, so fuck it, might as well.

"Right. Yeah, let me just..." Daniel moves aside, letting Max in.

He looks at him from the corner of his eyes as he hunts for his phone and wallet, his backpack, fresh water bottles. He watches as Max drops his bag, looking around, but doesn't move away from the hallway, seemingly happy to just wait for Daniel.

Daniel considers pinching himself, to make sure he's awake. Or slamming his head against the wall, to make sure he isn't.

"Okay, all ready to go!" he tells Max instead, too cheerfully and loud again. Max doesn't wince this time, he just smiles, like Daniel being a fucking idiot is endearing to him.

"You are coming in that?" he asks, nodding towards Daniel's clothes. Which, fair, he's still in his sleep clothes, bright pink shorts and a t-shirt, but also, rude.

"Do you have something against them, Maxy?"

"Of course not, you look very lovely, Daniel."

Disarming, as always.

Daniel has not showered and is in his sleep clothes, and Max calls him lovely in his most sincere voice.

Daniel reconsiders the slamming his head against the wall thing, but ends up just taking his keys and ushering Max out without replying.

He drives.

Both because he is the one who in theory knows where they're going to hike and because he's not fully sure Max is not still a little bit drunk. And because when they're together, Daniel always drives. Even if it's been a long while since they've been in the same car.

The ride is mostly quiet. Daniel turns on the radio, doesn't even connect his phone to it just letting a random station play, and neither of them talks.

Max has closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the headrest, and Daniel sneaks glances at him, still trying to understand what the fuck is happening.

He doesn't even remember what his original plans for the day were, but he's sure they didn't involve going on a hike when the sun is already too high with Max Verstappen. Who flew over from Vegas, after winning his championship, to go hiking with him.

Daniel thought his life was supposed to become more normal after leaving f1.

By the time he parks at the bottom of a trail that he has already done a few times, it's past two pm, the air is warm and dry, and Max blinks his eyes open with a yawn, looking, if possible, more tired than he was before his little nap.

"We don't have to go," Daniel blurts out, looking at the purple bags under Max's eyes. "We can turn around, I can drive you back to the airport."

Instead of being a sensible person and agreeing, Max frowns at him, his expression closing off.

"If you want," is all he says, and shit of all the stupid things Daniel has said today, he seems to have managed to hurt him with the only rational one.

"No, I...you just look tired," he tries to explain himself. Doesn't even know why he's explaining himself, when none of this makes any sense.

"I am fine," Max replies, some of the ice in his voice disappearing. "Can we go?"

Daniel, again, can only helplessly nod.

It's too warm outside. Daniel had only done this trail earlier in the morning, or on a cooler day, or maybe this whole situation is making him feel it more, but he's sweating as soon as they step outside the car.

Max abandons his bag in the passenger seat, only taking his phone with him, while Daniel swings his backpack on his shoulders, cringing at how it's already making his tshirt stick to him.

He wonders how Max is feeling, after the cold night in Vegas. Max doesn't complain.

They walk quietly for the first five minutes, and Daniel almost misses the car radio, but then Max takes a deep breath and starts talking. Rambling, really.

He starts by mentioning the Vegas weather, as if he was reading Daniel's mind, then switching to a detailed account of the party Martin had thrown for him.

Daniel just listens.

He hums from time to time, to show he is still paying attention, laughs a couple of times when it comes to it, but he doesn't contribute to the conversation. He puts one foot in front of the other and feels the sunshine on his skin, the noises of nature and city combined around them. All the good shit.

When he pulls off his t-shirt, Max laughs at him.

"You only wanted to come out here and show off," he says. His cheeks are red, but Daniel doesn't know if it's him, the warmth, or the sunscreen they both forgot.

"Just for you baby," Daniel replies, winking, mindless, and he's sure Max's cheeks growing redder is just a trick of the light.

Max stumbles. Several times. Every time he catches himself with a laugh, making a joke about needing wheels instead of feet. Daniel resorts to walk a little closer. Just in case.

They don't come across many people, but when they do they stay quiet, hoping nobody recognises them, hoping nobody asks for pictures. Max and a shirtless Daniel, alone on a trail. Daniel wonders what it would do to the internet.

By the time they reach the highest point of the hike they're both red and sweating, and Max is looking a little unsteady on his feet, making Daniel curse himself for taking him out here, after he raced and partied and didn't sleep.

They sit down in the still too warm shadow of a spindly tree, and Daniel hands Max one of the bottles of water, watching him drink it greedily. His nose is already starting to burn.

"What are you doing here, Max?"

The question comes out almost without his consent, but Max doesn't startle. He finishes drinking, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and pressing the half empty bottle against his neck, looking at Daniel with that unwavering stare of his.

"Hiking," he deadpans. "What are you doing here?"

And isn't that the question of the year.

"Hiking," Daniel answers back.

Max's mouth ticks up, amused as usual by anything Daniel says, but then he goes back to being serious. Daniel looks away, unable to handle his staring.

"I am here because I wanted to see you. Always, I want to see you."

Daniel closes his eyes, leaning back on his hands.

"God, Max. Fuck."

His brain feels like it's cooking, but it's more from Max's simple confession than from the heat.

"I keep...I text you, and I call you, and you are always busy."

It's true, but Daniel wishes Max wasn't saying it. He wishes they could keep ignoring everything between them that Max seems to be set on unearthing today. If this is what four championships do to a man, Daniel doesn't want them.

That's a lie.

Daniel wants them. Daniel would want even one. Daniel wants this. Daniel wants Max.

"We should keep going," is what comes out of his mouth.

He doesn't move, and Max doesn't either.

Max's sweaty hand lands on his arm, gripping for just a moment, then moves away. Daniel doesn't open his eyes. His neck is starting to hurt a little from his position, and he wonders if it would have if he had kept up his neck training. If he had been still in a car.

"You can't just...I am not letting you run away anymore."

Max's voice is harsh and Daniel snaps his head up, glaring.

"Running away? They fucking kicked me out, mate!" He grits his teeth, trying not to raise his voice. The ground is hard and uncomfortable underneath him. He wishes he had never picked up the phone.

Max glares right back, swiping his hand through the air, dispersing Daniel's words.

"I do not mean that. That was wrong, and stupid, and we can talk about it if you want, but I am talking about this," Max says, gesturing between them, as if the space between them was a solid thing, something tangible and theirs.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Daniel bites out. Max glares harder. He's always been a good glarer.

"Don't be dumb. I'm tired of you doing this, telling me it is nothing!"

A flash through Daniel's brain. Max, young and awkward, pushing him against the wall of a nameless club in a far away country, trying to kiss him. Daniel telling him you're just drunk, we'll talk tomorrow. Daniel refusing to ever talk about it again.

Suddenly, the anger seems to seep out of him, leaving him too warm and tired. He wipes some sweat off his forehead with his hand, feeling the grit of dirt mixing with it.

"What do you want, Max? For me to apologize?" he asks with a sigh, looking away again.

Two fingers on his chin guide him to look back, and he finds Max a little too close, eyes blue blue blue and cheeks red red red.

"You don't have to apologize," he says gently. "I want you to say that it is not in my head. I want you to say that you want me."

Daniel feels dizzy, isn't sure he's breathing.

"Why?" he chokes out. Max's fingers are still on his face. For a wild second, Daniel wants to lick them.

"Because I want you."

Simply deadly. Like Max always is.

Daniel's heart is rabbiting in his chest, brain buzzing. This doesn't feel real. Nothing about this feels real.

Max should be in Vegas, or on his way to Europe, high off his championship, not here, sitting in the dirt, telling Daniel he wants him. He shouldn't still want him. Not after everything.

"I fought very hard for one thing I wanted this year," Max says, when it becomes clear Daniel is not going to say anything, "and I thought it would be stupid to not fight for the other thing I wanted too."

"God, Max." It comes out in a rasp, and Daniel really hopes he's not going to cry, because that would be way too embarrassing, even for him.

Max smiles at him, small and soft and lovely. The one he saves for the little moments and the people he loves. The one he's been giving Daniel since forever.

"I would like you to say, if you want me, Daniel, because I would like to kiss you."

Maybe Daniel is going to pass out. But before he does...

"I do, God, fuck, Max."

Max laughs before kissing him, short and happy. He doesn't crash their lips together, but he cradles Daniel's cheek in his sweaty hand and gently guides him forward, soft and lovely and kind.

It's not fireworks. It's not an explosion of colors behind Daniel's closed eyelids. It's warm honey seeping through his ribs. It's a sigh of finally. It's a homecoming.

It lasts forever and nothing at all, and when Max pulls back, Daniel almost falls forward trying to chase him, making Max smile.

Daniel's brain doesn't have one single coherent thought left in it.

"We should finish the hike, this was a terrible idea," he says instead of please kiss me again. Which is maybe less pathetic, but also means Max laughs instead of kissing him, which is the worse outcome.

"It was your idea," Max reminds him, grabbing his bottle from the ground and pushing to his feet, before offering him a hand to do the same.

Daniel feels light enough he could probably float down the hill, no effort at all. He bumps his naked shoulder against Max's, immediately cringing at feeling of his sweat soaked t-shirt against his skin.

"I never claimed I was smart."

"Yes," Max agrees, grabbing him to stop him from moving further away, pulling him closer to kiss him again.

"You stink," he says when he lets Daniel breathe again, lips still brushing together.

Daniel snaps back, snorting a startled laugh.

"I stink?? Have you smelled yourself lately?"

Max echoes his laugh, making a show of smelling his own armpit and cringing away.

"You like it," he says, cheeky. Daniel firmly ignores the sharp pang of want in his gut and rolling his eyes instead.

"Come on stinky, let's get you to a shower."

Max's smile deepens, and he's the one to bump their shoulders together as they start back on the trail.

"You'll join me, yes?"

Daniel stumbles, the images the words Max and shower and join me are conjuring in his brain making him lose the grip on his limbs for a moment.

They should probably talk more about this. Figure things out. Set boundaries and shit. But all he cares about at the moment is finishing this fucking hike and take Max home. For anything else, they'll have time.

[daisymbin]

2. "are you trying to distract me on purpose?"

3."you’re lucky you’re cute, or i’d be mad right now."

—you're working from home & well ur bf is bored becausehe has ntg to do.

Vernon or Joshua or both(poly if u're comfortable with that)

**reader has glasses (pls)

omg this is kinda cute... I've never written poly before so this is a first for me too!! hopefully I did okay! thank you for requesting this, lovely!!! 🤍

a/n: i tried to do some research to learn more about poly relationships to hopefully have that dynamic right? i apologise if its inaccurate (you can let me know if i did so i can learn!!) this is my first time attempting a poly fic so please go easy on me 🙂‍↕️

warnings: poly relationship!! don't read if you're uncomfortable with it!!

wc: 2.3k sorry idk what happened 🥲

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list || hansol's m.list

suggestive prompt #2: are you trying to distract me on purpose?" +

suggestive prompt #3: "you're lucky you're cute, or I'd be mad right now."

it was supposed to be a quiet day. you had a mountain of work piled up, and the only thing you really wanted was to get through it without any distractions. but of course, hansol and joshua had other plans.

"babe," hansol called from the living room, his voice playful and a little too eager. you glanced up from your laptop, catching him peeking around the corner with a mischievous grin. "you need a break?"

"i’m good," you said, turning your attention back to the screen, but not without noticing how joshua was lounging on the couch with a lazy smirk, clearly bored out of his mind.

"are you sure?" joshua added, stretching his arms above his head. "you've been working non-stop."

"yeah, you should take it easy," hansol chimed in again, walking a little closer to where you sat at the desk.

"i’m fine," you said, your voice steady as you clicked through your work. but something about their energy told you this was only the beginning. "just let me finish, okay?"

they exchanged a look, one that clearly meant trouble. "we were thinking," joshua started, "since we cancelled our bowling plans to spend the day with you..." he trailed off, eyes glinting with amusement.

"yeah, we had to come up with something fun to do instead," hansol added, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "so... how about a little bet?"

you raised an eyebrow. "a bet?"

"yeah," hansol said, leaning against the doorway, "whoever gets you to crack first wins. and the winner... gets to be the first one to have you." he gave you a look that sent a shiver down your spine.

"real funny," you chuckled, but there was something in your chest that fluttered at the thought; you can't deny the way your stomach twisted in excitement.

"we’re just trying to have some fun," joshua said with a wink. "so, what do you say? are you up for it?"

you bit your lip, pretending to think for a moment before glancing at them both. "you can give it a go if you're that confident, but you’re both going to be disappointed when i get all this work done and don’t give either of you the time of day."

they just grinned at you, ready to prove you wrong.

attempt #1—hansol

a few minutes passed, and you were back in the zone, typing away at your laptop when you felt a familiar presence beside you. hansol’s breath fanned across your ear as he leaned in close. "you know," he whispered softly, "i'd have better restraints if you didn’t look so cute right now."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "seriously? that's what you're going with? a pick up line?" you huffed, "you’re lucky you're cute, or i’d be mad right now," you muttered, feeling his presence too distracting.

"i'll take that as a win," hansol said, voice thick with amusement as his hand brushed lightly across your shoulder. "just saying, you’d probably work better if i gave you a kiss for good luck."

you felt his lips hover near your cheek, and despite yourself, you tilted your head slightly. "stop it, hansol," you warned, but your tone was anything but firm.

hansol leaned in and pressed a light kiss to your cheek, just as he’d promised, before lingering there, his lips soft against your skin. his hand found its way to your waist, slipping under your shirt slightly to rest there as he murmured into your ear, "now, that was good luck, don’t you think?"

attempt #2—joshua

joshua appeared out of nowhere, slipping into the chair beside you, his knee brushing against yours. you glanced over at him, only to find him wearing that impossibly charming smile. "you’re working really hard," he murmured, placing a hand on your leg as he leaned closer. "why don't you just let us take care of you? soothe than tension?"

his fingers danced across your leg for just a moment before you shook your head, trying to ignore the way his touch sent warmth rushing through you. "joshua, please. i'm busy."

"ah, but you’re so cute when you’re trying so hard to ignore me," he teased, leaning in to kiss your temple. you let out a soft sigh, resisting the pull of his lips, "cut it out, shua."

he placed a hand on your thigh and slid it up, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. "don’t you want to spend time with me?"

you shifted in your seat, trying to focus on your screen, but the way joshua's hand stayed on your leg was enough to make you lose track of your thoughts.

attempt #3—hansol again

you were getting a little more frustrated now. your concentration was slipping, and your work was piling up. just as you were about to type something out, hansol was back. he dropped onto the couch beside you, his body a mere inch away from yours. he casually draped his arm over the back of your chair, leaning his head against yours.

"you’ve got this look on your face," hansol said, his voice a teasing whisper. "it’s like you want me to kiss you, but you’re too focused to admit it."

"oh my god," you muttered in playful disbelief, not sure if you were more frustrated with the work or with him.

"you don’t have to pretend," he continued, eyes twinkling mischievously. "i know what you're thinking."

you could feel his breath on your skin, and it was getting harder to focus. your hand, which had been hovering over the keyboard, finally fell into your lap as you exhaled. "i’m trying to work, baby. please."

hansol turned you to face him fully, he leans in close & ignores the way his heart flutters, instead, his gaze focuses on your glasses. with a teasing smile, he gently slid them off your face, setting them aside. his fingers lingered on your temple, tracing the edge of your skin where the glasses had been.

"you look even better without these," he murmured, his voice rich with desire. he tilted your chin up, his lips brushing yours as he smiles & whispers, "just you and me now."

attempt #4—joshua again

at this point, it was getting ridiculous. joshua wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore. he slowly slid off the couch and stood right behind you, one hand resting on the back of your chair while the other slid into your hair. he ran his fingers gently through the strands, sending a shiver down your spine.

joshua's hands rested gently on your waist, his fingers brushing the edge of your tank top. he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your earlobe as his breath warmed your skin. "you’re so beautiful," he murmured, the words sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. his hands slid slowly under your tank top, but instead of pulling it up, he traced patterns on your skin, teasing you with every movement.

you couldn’t help but smile at his light touch, the way he was taking his time, savoring the moment. "you’re being mean," you teased, glancing up at him.

"am i?" joshua grinned, his lips curling up in mischief. "maybe i’m just enjoying how you react." he kept his hands in place, gently caressing your sides before his thumbs brushed over the small of your back, sending a ripple of warmth through you.

you laughed softly, squirming slightly under his touch. "you know you’re not supposed to tease me like this, right?"

he leaned in, his lips just inches from yours. "i’m not teasing," he whispered, his voice low and filled with affection. "i just want you to know how much i adore you." then, with a quick, playful peck on your lips, he pulled away, keeping you close but just out of reach, enjoying the moment of sweet, teasing tension.

attempt #5—the win

you were barely holding it together when hansol returned for one final attempt. this time, he didn’t even sit beside you. instead, he stood behind you, his chest pressing into your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist. you tried to stay focused, but when his lips brushed your neck, your resolve finally crumbled.

"are you trying to distract me on purpose?" you finally asked, breathless and frustrated. your face flushed, your work completely forgotten as you turned to face him.

"oh, i've been trying, trust me," he said, his voice low and teasing. "i just want your attention so bad."

without waiting for a response, hansol takes matters into his own hands, kissing you fiercely, pulling you into a heated make-out session. his lips were insistent, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands roamed to your back, pulling you closer. you melted into him, feeling the heat of his body pressing against yours, his kisses growing deeper as he claimed you. your hands gripped his shirt, desperate to pull him even closer.

hansol's hands traced the curve of your shoulders, his fingers light but firm as they grazed over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his breath was warm against your neck, his lips brushing softly against the sensitive skin there. you couldn’t suppress a quiet gasp as his lips pressed a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, before he pulled back, his breath tickling your skin.

"you feel so good," he whispered, voice husky, his hands sliding down your arms to your waist. he drew you closer, his body pressing against yours as his lips returned to your neck, this time with more urgency. his kisses were slow but deliberate, each one more intense than the last, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

you tilted your head back, offering him more access as his lips moved to your shoulder, nipping at the soft skin there. his hands roamed, one moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer, the other tracing the curve of your hip, fingers brushing the edges of your shirt. the heat of his touch made your heart race, and you could feel your body responding to him, every inch of you craving more.

his breath grew heavier, a low murmur escaping his lips as he kissed your shoulder, his hands moving upward, sliding under the fabric of your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin. "can’t get enough of you," he murmured, his lips trailing further up to your jawline, his hands gently guiding you back against him.

you could hardly breathe, his touch overwhelming, consuming. but you didn’t want him to stop—how could you?

just as you were about to pull him closer, a voice broke through the haze of your senses. "you two are really going at it, huh?" the sudden interruption made both of you freeze, and you pulled away from hansol, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

joshua stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the table, a knowing smirk on his lips. his presence was warm, but there was an underlying tease in his eyes that made you feel a little exposed.

with a small laugh & his tone playful, he says to hansol, "can’t leave her alone for even a minute, can you?" his eyes flicked over to you, soft and affectionate, offering a little reassurance.

hansol gave a small shrug & smiles, the irritation from being interrupted fading away quickly, “just wanted to kiss her,”

joshua's hand move to gently brush against your arm. his eyes met yours, offering that same warmth, and you felt a wave of calm wash over you.

with a playful grin, joshua leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly, tenderly at first. you melted into the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss with a slow, deliberate pressure. his tongue slid against yours, the kiss growing more heated as he pulled you closer, just like hansol had. the mixture of their touches, their warmth, made your head spin in the best way, and you found yourself craving more from both of them.

joshua's lips moved to your neck, his soft kisses following the same path that hansol had begun. but there was something different in his touch—gentler, more tender, as though he was savoring every moment. his hand slid down to your waist, picking you up with ease as he walks over to the bed.

he guides you closer as his lips brushed along your skin, leaving behind a trail of soft, lingering kisses. "you’re so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you at the feeling of both their touches. they were so different, yet so in sync with each other, as if they were sharing the same unspoken understanding of what you needed. with both of them so close, the heat between you all was undeniable, and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in, pressing your lips against joshua’s once more, the kiss deepening in response to the heat between you.

as their kisses and touches intertwined, you felt like you were floating, caught between both of them, in a whirlwind of passion and affection.

“so who won?” joshua mumbled against your lips.

“im pretty sure i did,” hansol answers as his smug smile returns. he looks over at joshua, who was smirking back at him. joshua slowly releases his hold on your neck and pulls away.

you tug on hansol's arm, resting him against the headboard as you move to climb on top of him; trapping him beneath you.

“wanna tell me again how good i feel?” you ask as you lean down; closer, your hands run through his soft brown hair as his hands come up to your waist.

“fuck yes,” he mutters, his eyes darkening even more as he feels you move your hips aginst his.

joshua moves to kiss you again, but hansol stops him before he can, “hey I won!” he whines.

“relax,” joshua laughs softly against your lips, “im just kissing her. you can have her first.”

[icarusredwings]

Baby talk 2/2

Trying something new. Be kind (take 2)

A very little wade fic

Ft. Wo-wo, Mama, and 'essy

For @sirwadewilsonfromimgur because apparently people like my brain

"Logan? It's a bit late, what's wrong?" The voice asks over the phone. He wasn't sure why he called her. Why he called Jean. But he felt like she might know what to do.

"Yeah.. sorry, i-.. It's nothing.. I'll go if you're busy - I just.." he mumbles, phone in his shoulder as he begins boiling some water for the pasta.

"Logan... tell me." She says, in a way of someone who knows he won't tell her if he feels like he's bothering her.

"So, I'm... er.." He turns to see Wade laying in his pile of stuffies, watching the movie with large eyes and a curious o shaped mouth. Right now, they were at the part where she was singing in her secret cave, Wade's eyes glued to the screen in awe, as if he hadn't seen this movie 40 times already. "Babysitting... and I don't really know what to do?"

"Oh.. okay. Well how old are they?"

"Young. Really young. Barely talks." He says, trying not to sound nervous out of his mind as he preps the chicken to be cooked.

"That can be as young as 12 months. Are they potty trained?" She asks, trying to help best she could over the phone. Not like Logan would ever let them see him like this anyway.

"God I fucking hope so." Is all he can awnser with a big sigh. "I don't know, I just.. it's so much different then the kids at school."

Chuckling, he could feel that 'well no duh' look in her eyes and that smug smile. "Well, I would hope that 12 month olds are different than 12 year olds. That's 12:1, Logan." She says, and he grunts, nodding.

"Yeah, yeah, I just.. you read parenting books, right? What do they like? Babys, I mean."

Instantly Wade turns, Giving him a small glare and a pount. "MmMmh.."

"My bad, kids this little." He didn't need to understand the whines to know exactly what he was saying.

'I'm not a baby' He always said that.. man.. Wade not talking felt so weird, and it freaked him out, getting to the point he would subconsiously check to make sure he was still consious and that he COULD talk if wanted, but he didn't.

Wade was just quiet today. Al must think it's a blessing but to Logan? This was a nightmare.

"I do" She laughs again, giggling. "Why? Are they misbehaving?"

"Well... No.. but i'm afraid I might..." He mutters, blowing his cover at pretending not to be anxious about this entire thing.

"Mama?" He hears, indirectly awnsering. "No bub. Not your mama."

The woman giggles again from the side conversation. "I'm sure you'll be fine. Do you want me to-"

"NO!!" He screams, watching as Al got spooked, drawing her pistol on Wade, and for once, she had a good shot. "Get off of me!!"

"Well, jeez Logan, you could have just -"

"Sorry! I have to go!!"

Beep.

"Logan??.. He hung up on me." Jean says, miles away. Logan just knows it.

"Althea! It's Wade!! It's just Wade!!" He shouts, quickly coming over to take the gun from her. "He's just.. really little right now. God damn kid, are you tryna die!?" He yells at him, seeing him only try to curl up more into the woman, tearing up.

"Althea, why don't you go sleep in the room, okay?"

The older woman grumbles, shifting. "Baby you can't lay on me like that. You're too big." She says, much calmer now as Logan pulled Wade off of her and set him back on the floor.

"You're too big for that, kid, you're gonna hurt her!" He tells him, only making Wade feel worse.

"..mama?"

"No! No mama. She dosn't feel good and-"

"Logan. Enough. I can take care of myself." She mutters, groaning as she got up.

".. Mama?" Wade says again, his mind very one tracked at the moment. He knew three things. That he wanted held. He liked Mama. And he didn't know why he was so upset with him. Did he hurt her? Was she okay? Wade wished he could ask, but no words seemed to come out when he tried.

"Hi, Honey, Mama's gonna go take a nap. Behave. Both of you." The old woman mumbles, cupping his face and giving him a kiss on the head, stumbling towards the room. "Wake me up when dinner's ready."

"Yes ma'am.." Logan mutters, glancing down at Wade, watching as he wiped his tears, pulling Fluffy and his legs into his chest, sniffling.

Swallowing, he wasn't even sure if he would understand if he apologized, but he needed to anyway. "Hey.. I'm sorry for yelling at you.. I thought... I thought that.." He rubs his hand into his face with an embaressed grumble. "..Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. You can't even.. well, no, that's not right. It still would hurt, and I guess I just didn't want Mama to hurt you and- "

Wade wasn't even looking at him. He was staring at the Tv, curled up, and didn't seem to be litsening.

Sighing heavily, he looked at the gun in his hand, deciding he should put it up. It wasn't something he should have down with Althea not feeling the greatest and Wade not even being able to put together sentences.

Walking away, he puts it in the closet, making sure to lock it like it was supposed to. God, there were so many weapons in here. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that these guns weren't just for hunting or a hobby. No one had this much ammo when owning a gun collection that was "just for show."

Making his way to the kitchen, he stirred the boiling noodles, dumping them in the colander.

"Wo-wo?... wo-wo!"

"Woah woah?" He asks himself, looking up to see Wade pointing at the tv. Prince Eric had picked up Ariel and was now twirling her while smiling.

"Wo- wo?"

Tilting his head, he thought that perhaps this was cool to Wade. "Yeah, Wow buddy. That's amazing." He says but Wade gave him a dirty look. One that usually was his 'Bitch? Thats not what I said' squish of his non existing brows.

"Wo-wo. Ups?"

"Ups?"

"Wo-wo, Ups?" He grins, putting his hands up as he did the grabby motions again.

Oh. That made more sense. "You want me to do that to you?"

Wade nods, crawling about two feet before doing the hands again.

"Mmh... okay, but just once. And then I have to cook. Deal?"

Putting the butter in the pan, he came to pick him up, raising him up. The small squeal and the wide, sparkly eyes said all that Logan needed to know. When put back down, Wade claps.

"Yaay!"

Logan couldn't help but smirk. Really? That's all he wanted? "Heh.. yeah.. Yay." Was it that simple? This.. easy??

Vanessa made it sound so much more complicated when she talked about it. But then again.. I guess Vanessa wasn't as strong as him either, so it must have been difficult for her to hold him. The idea of her holding a 6'2 man on her hip made him snort.

She was strong, obviously, most dancers had to be, but dancers were lean and nimble as well. Logan was much more on the heavier side, so it was far easier for him.

"More?"

"More ups?" He asks, despite seeing his hands reach up. It wasn't the fact that he didn't know. Rather, he wanted confirmation.

"Wo-wo, Ups!" He smiles, excited and happy to be given the attention.

"Ok, ok, but last time, alright?" With another nod, Logan picks him up again. This time, Wade wraps his arms around him tight, nuzzling him again.

Sighing, Logan rubs his back, letting his chin go to the top of his head. "I can't hold you forever, you know... I have stuff to do.." he mumbles, bouncing just a bit in his knees, keeping his arm under his bottom so he didn't drop him.

"You're a good kid, Wade but I really do have to cook."

The whine that comes out of Wade is desperate for attention, lonely even. As if he just told Wade he was leaving and never coming back ever again.

"I come."

"No, sweetheart.. you'll get burned." The bouncing stops as he tries to set Wade down but he holds onto him like a kitten whos afraid of being dropped too far.

"Come on, let go. You'll be okay in here. See look. She's using a fork as a comb. Isn't that funny?" Logan says, trying to distract him enough to stay put. Vanessa wasn't kidding about the wanting held part. He was quite literally clinging to him like his life depended on it.

"Alright, get off. Here- do you want this? Take it." Putting him down, he took his hoodie off with him, letting him hold it as he stood. "There. Now stay. Im trying to make you some noodles, bub."

Finally getting to walk away, the look on his face hurt his chest.. just a bit anyway. The way he watched him go with such sad eyes and clutching the hoodie close to him. As if he was abandoning him.

Eh. He'd be fine. He could still see him in the kitchen so there wasn't really any reason to worry.

In said small kitchen, Logan put together the sauce, butter, and some seasonings, starting to stir it when he glanced towards the tv, doing a double take because Wade was missing.

"Wade?" He says, only to be met with him tugging on his jeans. The sight was something he wasn't prepared for, Wade put his hoodie on, and it was too big for him by at least two sizes. "Wo-wo!"

"Woah woah huh... wait, is that me?" He asks, tilting his head. "It's an L, bud. L" he made the L noise for him. "Lo-Lo."

"Wo-wo."

His eyes roll. "What ever. Come on, kid get out of the kitchen. You're gonna burn yourself."

This lasted about 2 seconds before Wade came back in. "Ups?"

At this point, dinner was practically done. Now, just have to finish it up and serve. "Fine... but don't touch anything."

"Yaaay!!" He claps, reaching up only to get scooped up and put on his hip, holding him with one arm, the other stiring.

"Yeah... yay.. fuckin' brat.." Wade was always getting what he wanted.

Wade giggles, holding his neck and once again snuggling up to him.

"Yeah, yeah, that's enough. Just be good. Don't touch. Ouches."

"Ow?"

"Yup. Ow."

So now, here was Logan, an almost 400 pound man holding 150 pound 6'2 guy on his hip, stiring and plating dinner. With his head on his shoulder, Wade calmed down immensely from being carried, just watching what Logan was doing and silent.

Dipping his finger into the sauce, Logan held it up. "Do you like this?"

Taking the finger in his mouth, Wade immediately made a 'mmmh' noise, nodding.

"Good. Do you want it on the side or on top of your noodles?"

" 'op."

" 'kay." Putting the sauce on top, he began to make Als.

" 'essy?"

"Huh?" He asks, not sure.

" 'essy??" Wade points to the plate.

"No. Mama's."

"Mama?"

"Mhm. Wo- wo's." Logan points to his own.

"Ooooh! Yummies."

"Yup.. Yummies..." he says, only to become embarrassed, face heating up as he grunts. Man... damn this baby talk..

____

A little later, after dinner, Wade came out of the room, looking almost ashamed, wearing Logan's x-men athletics department hoodie, the back saying 'HOWLETT' in big letters.

He was playing with his hands as he came to him. "Hey.."

Glancing away from the Tv, Logan was a bit confused, Not now sure if he was still small or not. "Hey?"

"I-.. im sorry.. for.. ealier. I know you don't like that stuff. I don't really.. know.." It seemed the farther he got into the apology, the tighter his voice got, his eyes becoming glossy.

"Hey-hey, stop. Why are you crying? You don't have anything to be sorry about. You're alright. Everything's okay, Wade. Sit." He says, patting next to him, but he just shook his head, rubbing his arm.

"No. I-it's not okay. You didn't ask for that. And you don't like t-taking care of me like that-" he wipes his eyes with the sleeves, clearly feeling bad about being so small infront of him.

"What? No, hold on. I never said that. I'll always take care of you." He says, a little frustrated that he would think differently.

"B-but you-"

"Shut the fuck up and come here."

Swallowing, He hesitantly sat on his lap, letting Logan pull him close and kiss the tears from his eyes. "Don't you ever say that shit again, you hear me? If I didn't want to take care of you, I would have left a long time ago. It was just.. odd at first. Because I've never seen it before. That's all. Just because something is new doesn't mean it's bad. You taught me that, idiot."

Sniffling, he shifts to nuzzle up under his chin again, curling up to be as small as possible, letting the man hold him in his arms. "I-i don't.." he heaves.

Logan is patiant, holding his cheek and rubbing his breath. "Shh.."

"I-i don't even know why I did that. I just.. it just happened." He whispers.

"That's alright. You don't have to know everything... a little heads up would be nice though." He mutters, pulling him up more to rub his cheek on him the way he liked.

Sniffling again, he smiles softly. "I'll try.. worst case senerio I just ask you to pick me up."

"Tell ya what. You ask me to pick you up and I will. Just... not during missions. I don't wanna have to slice a fucker in half because he shot you when you're small."

Wade giggles, his heart rate finally settling down as he listened to Logan's. "No promises.." letting out a big sigh, he let his body relax, taking a few deep breaths, nestling into him, the smell of the hoodie making him tired. "..I love you.. a-And thanks for not letting Al shoot me.."

Logan's eyes widened. He did hear his apology. A soft half lidded smile came to his face, glad that it wasn't for nothing. "I love you too.... cry baby."

"Can you guys shut up? Wheel of fortunes on." Al says, feeling much better that she too has had a nap and a good meal.

Sigh... that was their Althea.. keeping them humble.

The little giggle that came from him and the rythemed breathing following told Logan that he would be stuck in this spot for quite a while. Oh well... He was always up for a good nap.

"...Morons." The old woman says with a hint of fondness in her voice, hearing not one but two sets of snores. It was music to her ears.

[rowiewritesstuff]

I have a request for yandere tfp breakdown x gn human reader breakdown finds reader in the mines energon finding them adorable so he immediately grabs them taking them to the decepticon war ship convincing megatron to keep them as their spark mate or pet megatron agrees with it

Yandere Breakdown X GN Reader

Special thanks to @paci-transformers for the collab but not for letting me use bullet points.

The sun had definitely set hours ago.

Having been trapped in this cave for several hours, after making the mistake of being curious about the unusual rock composition and deciding to investigate, you were starting to lose hope you'd ever find a way out. Your phone had no signal so deep underground, and, as if that wasn't bad enough, you hadn't brought more than just a small bag of supplies and tools, believing this would be a short in and out adventure.

Which, unfortunately for you, it wasn't.

Maybe it wouldn't be as frustrating if your flashlight wasn't starting to run out of battery.

For what feels like the ten millionth time, loose rocks skitter under your feet. Unlike the last few times, your hand flies out to steady yourself, and grasps thin air. You think your own involuntary shout rings back through your ears, but you can barely hear it.

You're falling a lot further than you thought, and a lot harder.

Dazed, and barely able to make anything out past the blur and dust of the likely concussion, you think you hear footsteps.

But… are footsteps supposed to be that loud? It sounds like a giant.

It certainly feels like one, when something grabs you.

You can't do much more than dangle there, trying to focus on what's in front of you, but… maybe you hit your head harder than you thought. You could almost swear there's a giant robot in front of you. And holding you.

You blink a few times, trying to grasp the situation at hand. It's a little harder than usual, and you can't quite make eye contact with the giant robot. If it is a giant robot. There's too much space between the yellowish-orange lights you assume are how it sees.

"It's almost cute how tiny you are."

It takes a long moment for you to realize that was directed at you, and when you do, you can't help the quiet huff of indignation.

"'m not tiny," you manage, rather intelligently. "You're big."

The giant robot has the audacity to laugh at your weak defense, pulling you close to its-- his?-- chest.

And, being real with yourself, this isn't really your idea of a good time. Especially not when you're getting carried off somewhere against your will, and are rather sure you trying to squirm out of the grip is the reason the robot is laughing again.

“You sure about that?” He huffed in amusement. “You organics really do think you’re the center of the universe. Got some bearings on you, I'll give you that.”

You blinked, your vision clearing more. As your brain finally decides to come back to you, mild apprehension shifts into outright terror.

You are, in fact, being held by a giant robot. 

“Why're you shaking so much?" He grinned down at you, but it wasn't reassuring in the slightest. "I’m not gonna hurt you, you know.”

Somehow, you highly doubt that.

Your vocal cords finally decide to unstick themselves, unfortunately in time for you to ask:

"What… are you?" 

The robot lets out a low laugh.

“I’m Breakdown." He squeezed you a little tighter, but not enough to hurt you-- and yet, you aren't reassured by it. He could crush you like a grape if he wanted to. "You’re adorable, you know that?” 

“L-let me go!" You snap, fear winning out. "Now!” 

You claw desperately at his hands, and are only rewarded with your bag plummeting to the ground.

Breakdown looks at where your bag fell, eyes suddenly narrowing at it. The purple crystal had fallen out of the cloth you wrapped it in earlier.

“Where did you find that?”

You were confused by his sudden change in demeanor. Your words wouldn't come to you in the face of it, and suddenly, you're getting shaken around.

“I-in a cave lower down, I think?" you manage to force out. "There were a ton of them in the wall.”

“Really, now?” Breakdown raises you to his eye level, eyes narrowing again. "How did you find it…?"

Trying your best not to shrink back, you manage to pull the survey meter from your belt. The dial on it is still turned too high for a seemingly normal area, but you aren't quite sure why.

“M-my device detected unusual energy… I thought it w-was broken, but I went to see.”

The look on his face unnerved you. He tapped the side of his head and began speaking. “Lord Megatron, you’re gonna want to see this.”

---

Not too long after, you were being guarded by some of what ‘Breakdown’ called Vehicons. You could do nothing as they began drilling into the ground and wall, going downwards. It was about half an hour until a huge, terrifying being walked in. Its every step made the floor tremble beneath him, and it had to be at least thirty feet tall. Your eyes could only widen, not being able to stop your body from trembling. It glanced around, surveying the room, and its gaze fell on you for a moment. The cold red eyes send shivers down your spine, even after his gaze drifts away.

“Breakdown, you know better than to waste my time,” Its cold and gravelly voice was showered with irritation. "Surely, you haven’t brought me down here to show me a mere pest…?"

“No, Lord Megatron.”

Breakdown handed the crystal you had found to him, and Megatron’s eyes widened ever so slightly. He laughed lowly, making you more uncomfortable. You notice all eyes on him-- maybe you could slip away safely?

You quietly got up, backing away into the entrance of the cave. Right when you thought it was safe, you turned around--

A foot slams down right in front of you. The loud noise turns all eyes to you and the large feminine being before you.

“Ah, a pest." Spindly fingers lifting you by the scruff of your shirt, and you freeze. "Shall I exterminate it for you, Lord Megatron?”

You're shaken around wildly, a fearful cry breaking loose against your best efforts.

“Enough!” Megatron’s voice echoes, the room going silent in an instant. “That human is currently more valuable than you are, Starscream.” 

Starscream glared at you in disgust, before dropping you roughly into Breakdown’s waiting hands.

“As you wish, my lord.” 

Megatron turns to you, and you try to tamp down the trembling.

“Now, organic--" he spat the term like an insult, "--what device led you here?”

You were trembling again. You couldn't help it, when he was the most intimidating thing you’ve ever seen.

“I-I… um--”

“Well?!" Starscream screeched at you aggressively, crossing his arms. "Spit it out already!”

“It d-detects unusual radioactive energy signatures!" You yelp out, swallowing hard. "I modified this so I could track certain frequencies, but… um… these crystals give it off too…?”

Megatron eyes you appraisingly. It's no less terrifying, and just makes you all the more aware of the ease with which a slight misstep could kill you.

“Even so far underground, you managed to get a signal?” Megatron looked deep in thought for a moment. “On dark energon, no less…”

Megatron was clearly incapable of smiling. That could be the only explanation for his increasingly terrifying smirks.

“What is your name, little one?”

You hesitated. Why did he want to know? Couldn't it be dangerous to--

You shrink back, red eyes boring a hole straight through you.

“I asked you for your name.”

“It's (Y/N),” you squeak. "(Y/N) (L/N)."

“Well, (Y/N), you’re going to make me more of these--" Megatron gestures loosely to the device still in your grasp, "--and ones to get a read on other things. I sense you’re going to be very useful.”

Megatron turned to leave, but his words still rang in your ears.

“…what?”

Your face paled, but it was as if you had said nothing at all.

“Breakdown? After the human has exhausted all use…" Megatron sends a cold sneer your way, too-sharp teeth glinting dangerously, "…you may do as you please with it.”

Words have never filled you with as much dread as those did.

“Aw, I've always wanted a pet," Breakdown laughs. "Bulk always makes it look so fun."

You can't even bring yourself to struggle, even as you're being carried from the cave. Your thoughts are swarmed with panic and fear, only eight terrifying words breaking through the noise.

"Don’t worry. I’ll take great care of ‘ya.”

---

Breakdown got a large terrarium, filling it with everything he thought humans needed. He got you a bed, a television, books, food, clothes (not that any of them fit, but you weren't about to say anything), and even installed a bathroom somehow. You never understood how they made the plumbing work, but were too afraid to ask or investigate it. Being investigative was what got you in this mess in the first place.

The only time you’d be able to leave was to work on your "project", which you swore was the one of the only things keeping you sane here. Megatron had very strict requirements for your modifications, but would never let you see more information than he wanted you to. It wasn't as though you knew how to read the glyphs on the giant screens they used, and there wasn't exactly a translation guide for "giant alien robot" language.

Because, apparently, they're aliens. Not just gigantic robots with an unfortunate penchant for kidnapping humans.

But they weren't the only ones of their species on Earth, it seemed.

Every once in a while, you’d hear about the Autobots from someone passing by. Stories about them stopping Decepticon plans, or guarding humanity from the threat of destruction. Your dreams were filled with ideas of the Autobots-- whoever they were-- coming to save you. Each time you woke up from one, finding yourself right back in that damned terrarium, you almost wanted to abandon all hope. The only thing that kept the hope of freedom alive was hearing of the daring escapades of a group you'd never met, always there to thwart whatever plots the Decepticons attempted. All you knew is that the Autobots protected humanity…

…and maybe someday, they would come to protect you, too.

[alicewrotethis]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 ﹒𝐩𝐭 𝟐

ㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis!! atsumu goes back into his old habits, and unsure of how to make it up to you ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚౨ cw!! timeskip! a. miya x artist! oblivious! reader, angst ﹒ ◠ note!!  next part soon, itll be smut most likely, writing for atsumu is kinda growing on me, still cant reply to comments but just know i love every one i get <33 ౨ wc!! 4.3k, not proofread  ˚ ۪˖𓏲 mood!! series playlist

[part one]

The sound of your music from the other room filled the halls and empty spaces of the apartment, Atsumu could hear the boom of the bass coming from the speaker. He shifted on his bed, pulling the pillow over his ears to try and muffle it, but to no avail. With a groan he sat up, searching for his phone to check the time.

It had been about a week since you moved in, and every day started this way, with the exact same song, at the exact same time. You always started your antics at six AM. He supposed it was his fault, he never told you how much it irked him since he never made it known, but he decided it has gone on for far too long.

Placing his feet on the cold wooden floors a shiver ran up his spine, already missing the comforting warmth of his blanket and the hug of his pillows around his head.

"I'll be back, I'll miss ya," He whispered while looking back towards his bed before heading to your door.

He gave the wood a few gentle knocks, the music now louder. Once you didn't answer he felt an annoyance bubble in his chest and gave the door a pound, the music quickly died down and you appeared in the frame shortly after.

You took in the sight of Atsumu, his yellow bedhead hair, the tired look in his eye, and the lack of clothes.

"Yeah?" You asked happily.

Atsumu stared down at you, how could you possibly be so... cheerful, so gleeful at six in the damn morning.

Atsumu's jaw clenched as he fought back the grogginess that threatened to snap his patience entirely. He rubbed a hand down his face, trying to compose himself.

"Yeah?" he echoed, voice dripping with sarcasm, "That’s all ya got to say? Yeah? It’s six in the fuckin' morning, and I've heard that same song so many times I’m startin' to hear it in my dreams!"

You tilted your head, clearly unbothered, as if you didn’t notice the thinly veiled irritation in his tone, "It’s a great song! Don't you think? Helps me start the day!"

"No," He said flatly, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Not at six. Not through walls that are apparently made of paper, 'm beggin' ya, tone it down— or at least wait until, I don’t know, a reasonable hour,"

You blinked, a small pout forming on your lips. "Six isn’t reasonable?"

"For a rooster, maybe," He muttered under his breath, stepping back and crossing his arms. "Look, I get it, a morning person and all, but some of us ain’t wired that way, can't you use, like... headphones?"

You gave him a sheepish smile, "It sounds better from my Alexa though,"

"I'm not sayin' ya can't listen' to music, 'm just sayin' to turn it down," He replied as softly as he could. He felt his patience wearing thin due to the early hours of the day.

"Yeah, totally! Sorry, Tsum," You smiled up at him.

Atsumu paused at the use of the nickname, before now it had always just been 'Atsumu', and it's not like he minded, he quite liked the way it rolled off your tongue, the way you said it so casually.

"Yeah, it's fine, 'm goin' back to sleep," He said before walking off, he heard the soft click of your door closing at the quiet hum of your music resuming.

He smiled to himself, his mind going back to the small pout that was on your lips previously, he felt creepy, he really did, but that's never stopped him from doing anything before and he wasn't about to change that.

Atsumu woke up to the smell of popcorn and the sound of his phone buzzing repeatedly. WIth a yawn he grabbed it and answered Hinata's call.

"Atsumu! Where are you?" Hinata asked with a sense of urgency.

Atsumu let out another yawn, "Ahh, why? What time is it?"

There was a pause, "It's two in the afternoon! Are you coming to practice today?"

Atsumus eyes widened as he shot out of bed, tripping over his blanket, "Yeah! 'm in my car right now, traffic am I right?" He laughed as convincingly as he could, silently praying Hinata was as oblivious as you.

Hinata didn’t miss a beat, "Oh, man, traffic's the worst! Coach is already fuming, though, so you better hurry, you know how he gets."

Atsumu scrambled to find his clothes, juggling the phone between his shoulder and ear, "Yeah, yeah, tell him I’ll be there in like... fifteen? Maybe ten?" He bluffed, tugging a wrinkled jersey over his head.

Hinata hummed, clearly buying it, "Okay, but don’t forget we're running rotations today, you’re paired with Bokuto, he's already hyped up and yelling about quick sets."

Atsumu groaned inwardly, the last thing he needed was Bokuto's relentless energy while he was still half-asleep, "Got it, I’ll be there soon," He said quickly before hanging up.

He turned to grab his keys, but the smell of popcorn stopped him in his tracks. Poking his head out of his room, he spotted you lounging on the couch, a massive bowl of popcorn in your lap, and a movie playing on the TV.

You glanced over with a cheerful grin, "Hey! Wanna join? Just started the best part."

Atsumu narrowed his eyes at you, "It’s two in the afternoon, and you’re watchin’ movies like it’s Saturday night?" Though he couldn't blame you, if given the chance he'd be right next to you on the couch.

"No better time like the present!" You beamed with a wide smile, "You gonna join?"

"Cant, woke up late," He glanced down to his phone, "Speakin' of I gotta go, I'll be back around eight, let's watch one then, promise," He yelled before closing the door and practically running to the elevator, only to see an 'out of order' sign on it.

Atsumu stared at the sign with a mix of disbelief and growing irritation. "You've gotta be kidding me," He muttered, jamming the elevator button just in case it miraculously worked despite the bright orange out of order notice.

No such luck.

With a resigned sigh, he turned toward the stairwell, gripping his duffel bag tighter. As he pushed the heavy door open, he glanced back toward the apartment. For a split second, and for the first time in forever, he really considered ditching practice and crashing on the couch with you, popcorn in hand.

But the image of Coach's wrath quickly replaced that thought, and he began descending the stairs two at a time, "This better count as my cardio," He grumbled under his breath, feeling the ache in his still-waking muscles.

Once he got outside he searched for his car, unsure of how much time has passed and how much he still had left.

A voice broke through his thoughts, "Hey, Atsumu!” He turned to see you leaning out of the apartment balcony, still holding the popcorn bowl, "Forgot to tell you— the elevator's been busted since last night, hope you like stairs!"

He threw you an unimpressed look, "Thanks for the heads-up, roomie, real helpful!" He yelled back, getting strange looks from passersby.

You laughed, utterly unbothered, "Break a leg at practice! And don’t forget— movie at eight!"

Rolling his eyes with a smile he jogged down to his parked car, hoping to make it on time.

As he drove, he couldn’t help but wonder how someone so delightfully carefree could disrupt his life so thoroughly— and still leave him looking forward to coming home.

By the time practice ended it was seven-thirty, it left just enough time to drive home to you.

While he was packing his duffel bag he heard Bokuto from behind him, "Hey, hey, hey, Miyatsumu! Wanna set for me while Hinata blocks my spikes?" He asked with a wide grin.

Atsumu's thoughts trailed back to you and the promise he made to you, surely you'd understand why he stayed late.

"Sure," He said to Bokuto, setting down his bag with a smile.

It was an hour past eight, and you were sitting with an empty bowl of popcorn and watching TikTok on the couch. You gave up hope around thirty minutes ago when your texts were left unanswered. What if his car broke down? Surely he wouldn't have forgotten about the movie night he promised.

You decided to give him a call, just to make sure he was in fact okay.

The phone rang a few times before he picked up, "Yeah?" He answered, out of breath.

Truth was Atsumu had completely lost track of time, to entranced in trying new things with Bokuto and Hinata, it wasn't as if he wanted to forget.

"You okay?" You asked, your voice tinged with concern, "It’s past nine and you didn’t answer my texts, so, uh, I just figured I'd call,"

Atsumu wiped the sweat from his brow, his stomach knotting as he glanced at the clock, "Yeah," He replied, struggling to catch his breath, "Sorry about that— practice ran late, and, uh, traffic’s brutal on the way back,"

"Traffic?" You repeated, your tone shifting slightly, "You’re driving right now?"

"Uh-huh," He said, trying to sound casual as he waved off Bokuto, who was yelling about one more round of spikes, "Just a few more minutes, I swear."

There was a pause on your end, and Atsumu felt a bead of sweat—not from practice—slide down his temple.

"Huh, that’s weird," You said finally.

"What’s weird?" he asked, swallowing hard.

"Oh, just that I don’t hear any traffic noises," You said innocently. "Almost like... a gym."

Atsumu froze, guilt tightening in his chest, "What? Nah, must be the Bluetooth or somethin’,"

"Right," You said, your tone now dripping with suspicion, "And I suppose that’s not your teammates yelling in the background either?"

Caught red-handed, he sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Alright, fine, 'm still at the gym."

"I knew it," You said, exasperated, "You lied to me?"

"I didn’t mean to," he said quickly, fumbling for an explanation. "I just—Bokuto and Hinata—look, I lost track of time, okay? I didn’t wanna let ya down, so,"

"So you lied instead?" You cut in, your voice sharp. "You could’ve just told me you were staying late,"

"I know, I know," He said, guilt eating at him, "It’s just... ya looked excited, 'nd I didn’t wanna ruin that,"

"Well, lying sure helped with that," You muttered, the disappointment clear in your tone.

Atsumu flinched, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. "I’m sorry," He said softly, "I’ll make it up to ya, I promise, just... don’t be mad."

"I’m not mad," You said after a moment, though you still sounded hurt, "I’m just... we talked about this Atsumu,"

"I know," He said, his voice quiet. "I’ll head back now,"

"Don’t bother," You said, your tone resigned, "I’m already done with the movie,"

Atsumu sighed, hanging his head as you ended the call.

Bokuto walked over, tilting his head in confusion, "Everything okay?"

"Not really," Atsumu muttered, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, "Turns out ’m terrible at balancing volleyball 'nd life,"

"Sounds rough," Bokuto said sympathetically, "Want me to call and apologize for keeping you?"

"Nah," Atsumu said, shaking his head, "This one's on me,"

You weren't mad at him, and you hated the fact you weren't angry, you should be furious, but you weren't. You were disappointed and sad. He promised he would be there, and you would've understood had he told you that hed be staying late, but he tried to lie about it like you were stupid.

Atsumu felt guilt eat at him, an undescribable feeling gnawing away at his form. He wasn't sure why he felt this guilty, he usually never felt anything after he told a lie and was found out, in fact, he'd gotten used to the feeling of just lying without thinking of any real consequence. He didn't want to hurt you, and despite what you said he knew he did. Imagining you on the couch, alone, pained him.

Atsumu stood there for a moment, staring at his phone’s dark screen, the weight of your words settling heavily on his chest. He could practically hear the disappointment in your voice echoing in his mind, he had messed up, and the realization twisted like a knife.

Bokuto nudged him gently, "Hey, man, you sure? You don’t look so good,"

Atsumu forced a weak smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes, "Yeah, I’ll figure it out," He said, his voice lacking its usual confidence, "But thanks,"

Bokuto frowned but didn’t push further, letting Atsumu make his way toward the exit.

The walk to the exit doors felt longer than usual, every step a reminder of how he'd let you down. He replayed your words in his head, each time hurting more than the last.

By the time he reached the parking lot, the air was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the turmoil in his chest.

He sat in his car for a moment, gripping the steering wheel and staring at the dashboard. He wanted to text you, to call you again, to say something—anything—to fix what he’d broken, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough, not tonight.

Atsumu stepped into the apartment you shared, the familiar silence weighing on him. The lights were dim, and the air smelled faintly of the popcorn you had made earlier. He glanced at the couch, where the blanket you'd used still lay, slightly askew, a reminder of the movie night that would never happen.

He kicked off his shoes, the soft thud of his feet against the wooden floor sounding too loud in the stillness. The clock on the wall ticked on, its rhythmic pulse only making the silence feel more deafening. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of where to start or what to do.

The guilt gnawed at him. He could feel the weight of the promise he’d broken, the disappointment in your voice still fresh in his ears.

"I'll fix this," he had told himself, but what if it was already too late?

The next few days were spent in silence. Atsumu resumed his regular routine of waking up early and heading to practice while you remained in your room, no longer playing your music and no longer speaking to him. He understood, he let you down. The weight of his actions hung heavily between you two, a quiet barrier he wasn’t sure how to break. Every time he tried to approach you, to say something—anything—it felt wrong. As if the words would only make things worse.

In the mornings, he'd hear the soft click of your door opening as you left your room, but there was no longer the usual cheerful greeting or the playful banter that used to fill the air. It was like you had withdrawn into yourself, and he couldn’t blame you for it. He didn’t deserve your lightness after what he’d done. He could never blame you for not wanting to speak to him again.

At practice, things were just as tense. While his teammates, especially Bokuto and Hinata, tried to keep things light, he could barely focus, his mind kept drifting back to you and the silent apartment, the popcorn bowl, the broken promise. Every spike he hit and every set always felt heavier than the last, the ball's impact only a small echo of the weight he carried in his chest.

After each practice, he'd find himself staring at his phone, his thumb hovering over your contact, but every time, he hesitated. He didn’t know how to fix it, how to make it right when the damage felt so deep. The silence between you was deafening, and he couldn’t tell if you were waiting for him to make the first move or if you were already done with him.

It was on the fourth evening, when Atsumu returned home from practice earlier than usual that he saw you in the living room. You were sitting on the couch, an open book in your lap, but you weren't reading, or well, you didn't seem to be, you were staring at the page, lost in thought, your expression distant.

Atsumu lingered in the doorway for a moment, simply observing your form and your expression, heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to speak, to break the silence, but every word he thought of seemed inadequate.

Finally, after a long pause, he stepped inside, his voice low, "I'm sorry,"

His words pulled you from your thoughts as you laid eyes on his slumped form, his forehead had a thin shine of sweat and he was in his MSBY jersey, his yellow hair stuck to his forehead as he stared you down, gauging your reaction.

You didn't immediately respond, and Atsumu's words hung loosely in the air, but it was the weight of the silence between you two that truly felt unbearable. You weren't sure whether to ignore him or acknowledge the apology as everything in you screamed that you needed something ore than just words, something more than an apology that felt like it was just thrown out there in an attempt to ease the tension.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you finally decided on something, the feeling of betrayal wasn't easy to shake off especially since you already talked to him about lying to you.

"Sorry?" You repeated, the words still fresh on your mind, "Sorry won't fix this, Tsum,"

The book you were holding suddenly felt too heavy in your hands, so you set it aside, unable to focus on it any longer. You tried to divert your gaze, but the way he stood there— shoulders slumped, eyes searching your own, made your heart twist.

"I—"

You cut his sentence short, "I don't want your apologies," You said softly, though the impact of the words hit harder to Atsumu, "I was sitting there waiting for you, you didn't even text me, Tsum," You explained, your voice cracking as the emotions you felt bubbled back up.

Atsumu stood there, his gaze softening as he heard the rawness in your voice and words, he had expected the disappointment, but actually hearing it in your voice made it all the more real. His guilt had only deepened knowing he caused this pain when he could have just been truthful from the start. And even after all the hurt he caused you, you were still calling him by the nickname you gave him.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room felt heavier now, and you weren't sure if it was the silence that surrounded you or the weight of everything in your heart.

His eyes kept searching yours, waiting for some sign—some indication that you might be willing to hear him out. His chest began to feel tight, like there was a heavy weight pressing down on him that he couldn't remove. And despite the silence between you, he couldn't bring himself to walk away yet.

You hadn't said anything since your outburst, still sitting on the couch, your arms crossed tightly across your chest, like you were holding yourself together. Atsumu knew that nothing he said could erase the hurt, not yet, and maybe not ever, but he had to try.

"I know it's not going to happen overnight, and 'm okay with that," Atsumu said, his voice soft but steady, "I just want ya to know 'm here, and I'll be waitin' for when yer ready to talk,"

His words hung in the air again, thick with the weight of everything that had passed between you two. He took a step forward, it was hesitant, unsure if you'd even want him near you.

For a moment it felt like time slowed, you studied him, and his tired eyes, his posture sagged slightly like he was carrying something heavy, something he hadn't seen before. Maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was just the weight of his own realization that he had messed up, and now the silence between you felt like an ocean too vast to cross.

For a long time neither of you moved, the room was quieter than it had been in days, and the air between you two was charged with all the words left unspoken, the thoughts that neither of you could quite articulate yet.

Finally, you let out a breath, your expression softening just a little. You didn't respond immediately as there was too much swirling inside you. Frustration, sadness, confusion. All of it was there, but beneath it, you knew there was sincerity in his words. He wasn't pretending, wasn't rushing to make everything okay again, he was just there, willing to wait.

You shifted, your gaze finally dropping to the floor, "Okay, Tsum," You spoke softly, "Please, just don't lie again, not about something like that,"

Atsumu felt his chest ease slightly at your words, though the guilt still clung to him like a heavyweight. He knew 'okay' didn't mean things were fully mended, but it was a crack in the wall of silence that had grown between you two, and he could work with that.

"I wont," He promised, his voice steady but laced with remorse, "Not again, I mean it this time."

You glanced up at him, your expression still guarded but less cold, and he took it as a sign to sit on the far edge of the couch, careful to keep some distance, giving you space to decide how much you wanted to bridge the gap.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. He fidgeted slight, running a hand through his sweat damp hair as he searched for something to say that wouldn't make things worse, "I know I don't deserve it, but thanks for givin' me a chance," He finally spoke.

"You shouldn't need a second chance, to be honest, Tsum," You replied quietly, and the truth in your words stung more than he cared to admit.

"I know," He admitted, his gaze fixed on his hands, "I mess things up sometimes, but I swear 'm tryin', I don't wanna mess this up—us,"

Your breath hitched softly at the words 'us', a small flutter in your chest you hadn't anticipated, it wasn't just the word it was the way Atsumu said it like it held more weight than the air around you like it wasn't just a throwaway term but something he'd thought about.

"Us?" You repeated, your voice quieter than you intended as your eyes lifted to meet his, searching his face for some clues as to what he meant. There was a vulnerability in his expression, his brows knit together and his lips parted slightly as though he wasn't sure what to say next.

Atsumu's hands fidgeted in his lap, fingers twisting the hem of his jersey. He exhaled, a soft chuckle escaping that sounded more nervous than amused.

"Yeah," He said, his voice low and unsteady, "Us, I mean... ya know, me and you, how we—" He paused, groaning softly as if frustrated with himself, "I don't wanna mess up what we have,"

Your chest tightened, he wasn't just apologizing for breaking a promise anymore—this was deeper. Atsumu wasn't always the best at expressing his true feelings, but the way his voice softened, the way his shoulders slumped as he sat next to you, it was like every part of him was saying he cared even if he wasn't saying it outright.

"Tsum," You started, hesitant, your own feelings swirling, you weren't sure where this was going or even where you wanted it to go. The silences stretched between you, thick with things unsaid, until he finally broke it.

"I'm not good at this," He admitted, his eyes darting up to yours, "Bein' serious 'nd stuff, but I care about ya, more than I thought I could care about anyone. And I hate that I let ya down, I hate that I made ya feel like I don't see you, 'cause I do—I see everything about ya, the way ya laugh too loud at yer own jokes, the way ya leave extra food on yer plate 'cause ya know I'll eat it, the way ya—"

He stopped himself, shaking his head and looking away as if he'd gone too far, but you didn't let him stop.

"The way I what?" You asked, leaning towards him slightly, your voice soft. Something in his words was pulling you in, even if you weren't ready to fully admit it yet.

Atsumu sighed, running a hand through his messy yellow hair, "The way ya make me wanna be better, even when ya don't say anythin', even when ya don't look at me, I feel it, I feel like I wanna do better 'cause... 'cause yer here."

His words hung between you, raw and unpolished, but they hit you all the same. The silence that followed wasn't as heavy as before—it was different now, like the air had shifted like something new had been laid bare between you.

You didn't know what to say at first, your heart caught somewhere between the hurt of the last few days and the honesty in his voice now, but as you looked at him, really looked at him, his eyes full of sincerity, his slightly trembling hands, you knew one thing for sure.

"You really mean it," You said softly, not as a question, but as a realization.

"I do," He replied, his voice steady this time, "And I'll spend as long as it takes provin' it to ya, if you'll let me,"

The corners of your lips twitched into a small, hesitant smile as you nodded your head.

You weren't ready to forgive completely, not yet, but maybe you were ready to start.

navigation !

© 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ please don't copy, translate, or post any of my work without my permission !

[part one]

[firefly--bright]

winter sun.

jean kirstein x reader, modern au

summary ; wintery sunsets and a cold walk with jean, secrets being peeled apart. warnings ; none :) a/n ; hey divas im. dying there is so much work i found like a slither of time to write this </3 that being said requests are open even if i'll take time to write them. thank u @ppushable for enabling me to write this taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @happxme , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kivernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes , @gojo-ana , @ppushable , @candleohappiness

main masterlist is in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist! ✿ requests are open!✿ listen to this while reading (shush.)

middle tile art creds ; @plutocisms on tumblr!

The apartment was surprisingly quiet. 

The rare occurrence where sasha’s voice didnt permeate through the thin door of your home, where connie’s protests to jean’s choices in music didnt make their way to your ears even as you were climbing the stairs, the surprising lack of marco’s voice trying to mediate the two while the smell of something deliciously preparing in the kitchen, no doubt being observed with careful precision and hawk-eyed vision of the guy. None of that. It almost sent a chill down your spine, the jingle of your keys being the only thing that could be heard on your floor - your neighbours were tired of complaining about you and your friends’ loudness - and you made sure to not make too much noise unlocking the door.

The curtains were drawn, the only sound coming carefully from your own room, a soft yellow hue from under your door. You put your things away, your socked feet still cold despite being covered, fingers frozen and buried deep in your pockets. 

You pushed the door to your bedroom open with your foot.

Jean sat in your bed - laid down, really, like it was his own. It might as well be, and his hair was set, absorbing the golden light from your bedside lamp, his phone his his hand. He was dressed in your favourite, almost a knowing, well-kept secret in your mind. How he became aware of it you had no idea, but his deeply forest green sweater flowed gently over him, hugging his arms. 

He looked up, his eyes shining, gleaming. “You’re back,” he says, sitting straight up, back no longer supported by the pillow behind him, the cushion only holding an impression of him that youd like to keep forever. A proof of sorts, but that wouldnt be necessary as long as he was infront of you. 

“Hey.” you said, warmly, because that’s what he made you be. You set your bag down at the foot of your bed, and jean gets up with a question on his mouth, his chapped lips spilling out the statement as if he’d been mulling it over for a time longer than himself. “Wanna go see the sunset?” he asked, lips twitching at the corner - another well kept secret in your mind, your favourite passing expression on his face. There were a lot of things you liked about him, in passing, in secret, truth kept hidden between you and your mouth. Kept close, kept quiet. 

You hummed as if you even had to think about the answer. Dramatically, you stretched your arms over you, faking a yawn. “I dont know, jean, im pretty tired,” 

His shoulder slumped in a way where he thought it wouldnt be noticeable - something you couldnt help but notice - and he said, “oh, okay. Some other day th- oh youre fucking with me. Oh, okay. Fuck you,” he says, a joking scowl on his face as he started to walk out your door, refusing to turn his back on you. You laugh in teasing, a small, conscious sound. “Im never going to ask you, now, and years later when im dead-” “-how many years are we talking?” “twenty thousand. Im going to outlive you. You’re going to regret ever doing this to me-” your laugh becomes just a little louder, a little less conscious, a little more comfortable against the sound of his voice, and he smiles wider knowing youre happy. “I’ll write it in my eulogy, then,” you say, following him to the hallway. “you better.” he leads you to where you kept your shoes, your welcome mat folding as he halted infront of it, removing your coat from the rack along with his. “here lies jean kirstein, died out of spite,” you wear your shoes and he holds out your coat to put your arms in. “youre joking about this but im pretty sure that would be the only reason i’d ever die.” he wears his own coat, and the door opens gently, with your laughter replacing the sound of the empty, dimly lit stairway.

There’s really not much of a sun to be seen set. Maybe it was all just an excuse jean made up to hear your voice that warmed him in the freezing cold, and maybe you already knew that, and hoped his hand would brush against yours to remind you of his grounding heat, walking beside you. Coats on your shoulder, you and jean walked around aimlessly in your neighbourhood, treetops barren with the branches cutting through the blueing sky, colouring jean’s stray hairs in their shade. Another well kept secret in your ever-growing list - jean’s hair was like a chameleon. Being light enough to catch the colour of the light shining on him without much protest, and in the mornings when he sat beside you in class, backlit against the closed window with the sun shining painfully through the planes of glass, his hair looked like a crown. A halo, summery and warm but diffusing in his hair like something that was only evidence of holiness, blending into his strands almost seamlessly.

The tip of his nose was red, cheeks and ears taking on the same tint. His breath created a small cloud in the air from his nose, disappearing in a millisecond. Youd keep it there forever, if you could, seeing as his breath warmed your face, every exhale holding a piece of his lungs and the fact that it was so close to you, an evidence of holiness, was more than what you’d asked for in your life. You were sure if you closed your lids you’d see the outline of his face etched in the same light of your bedroom nightlight, lulling you to sleep.

 

“How was your day?” he asks, his voice soft, turning his head towards you. His eyes reflect your figure and its the only way youd want to see yourself. 

“Alright. Oh! After my last class, i was just talking to some people in my class with the professor-” “-zoe?” “yeah!” your voice lilts upwards, a physical proof. He remembered your schedule for today. “And we were just, yknow, talking, and they started telling us about the one time they got into a barfight.” jean snorts. “Honestly, i wouldnt expect less form them.” “me too. It started out as them and the other guy arguing about some fact and the guy just refused to listen to them so they had to google it and, yknow, they were right, and the guy refused to believe it. Got punched in the face. And then they showed us a scar from the stitches on their chin after they fell down at the curb.” jean laughed. “I wish i still had their class.” he said, and your hands brushed just as predicted and hoped. Your boots crunched the ground below you, your footsteps in sync with his, and jean retracted his hand. “Jesus, youre cold.” he remarked, looking at you, and you shrugged. “What can you do?” you asked. A rhetoric, helpless question. 

But jean’s hand enveloped yours, your feet coming to a halt with his, standing face to face with both your hands held by jean's warm fingers, burning like a furnace, set ablaze like your heart, a hearth around your previously frozen closed digits. There was a breeze, somewhere, far away to you, and jean’s eyes looked at yours with gentleness and no secrets. His shoulders relaxed, as if holding your hands like this was something natural and unplanned and comfortable - it was - but it was new, and you’d always assumed that change set your heart racing because it was too much. But then this was change, too, and your heart was normal, only a little bigger, comfortable against your chest that seemed so close to his. Maybe it was only comfortable because of that fact.  

He breathed into your hand, his own creating a shell around yours to keep the heat locked in just as you had thought about. A piece of his lungs, disappearing in a moments notice, a moments silence, a moment too long, comfortably stretched out under your well-kept secrets that you werent sure were so well-kept anymore. 

“Pretty today.” he comments, his eyes anywhere but to you now, and you wonder if you heard him right, but his breath lies there, unapologetic, heard, content around you. A piece of his lungs wraps around you, sinking into your layers of clothes and skin until it hits your bones. Somewhere, distant and clouded, the sun sets slowly. “Thank you,” you say, wondering if you should spill your own secret. “I like you in green.” you say. It sounds stupid and embarrassing to admit, and now it’s your turn to avert your eyes and stare and your hands. Theyre warm now. Jean hasnt stopped holding them. 

“I know.” he says. “Thats why i wear it so often.” “it makes your eyes look warm.” you say, clearing your throat, “colour theory, i think,” you excuse. 

You feel him nodding slowly, and his hands tug on your gently, pulling your body closer to his. Your chin tilts up, just in time to catch his breath, again, so close to yours, disappearing not before mingling with your exhale, piece of your lungs, in the still air. “Colour theory.” he repeats, and its clear that the excuse didnt work on him, not because hes smirking the way he usually is when he spots your poorly concealed truth, but with a pinch between his brows, subtle enough to be almost hidden. You catch it anyway. 

“Is there…. any colour theory to… to support why you look so…pretty?” he asks, face scrunching at the end, cringing at his own question. You smile. He shakes his head, a strand of his hair slipping onto his forehead. The wind brushes it away and you allow it to because of your preoccupied hands. “Forget i said that,” “its the blue,” you breathe, providing him with a clearly fake statement, but its not a secret this time. It doesnt hide behind your teeth, freeing into the wind, wrapping around him unapologetically. 

His lips twitch, sacred secrets still in your hands but theyre in his warm ones now, so you suppose its okay. 

“The blue?” he asks, small smile on his slightly cracked, cold lips. Your reflection is in his eyes and youre close enough to see the blue that tints the corner of his pupils - colour theory. Whatever it was. “Yeah. the sky, i think.” 

“The sky makes you pretty?” he asks, and you copy his smile despite yourself. “Yeah. maybe.” 

He nods again, slowly. Your words soak into his skin, warming his muscles, relaxing his shoulders. “I like blue.”

“I like green,” you say.

You have matching smiles on your faces, and you lean your lips to his hands, placing a small kiss there, a proof of your secrets, the ability of them spilling out one day, the possibility of comfort that jean provided openly, without remorse, to you. The fog his breath was creating came to a halt. You looked back to him, and your nose bumped against his cold, pink one. “I… there’s no sun.” he said, almost desperately, holding himself together by flimsy reasoning, but you broke his resolve without even trying. “Its okay. Its there somewhere. Close your eyes, maybe you can see it.” 

His eyes fluttered shut. In the darkness, he could see the outline your shape left under his lids. “Are you seeing it?” you ask, and your lips are so close together now its dizzying, and you wouldve collapsed if it werent for the way you held onto eachother’s hands. 

Jean nods. In the darkness, under his lids, he traces every line of your face, a piece of his heart. 

“Good. then we’re seeing the same sun.” you say. Jean opens his eyes to see your own closed, hands in his, growing warmer. He didnt remove his hands. 

“Yeah. we are.” he agrees, eyes glancing at your lips, waiting for your eyes to open.

When they do, you find a question in his. Warm, complimenting the colour of his sweater, gleaming in the blue of the sky. You inch closer to him with your own answer, your lips pushed slightly apart, waiting for your secrets to be unleashed into his own poorly concealed ones behind his usually clenched jaw. 

His lips are chapped. A little cold. So were your hands, but his touch warmed you, and you hoped your own lips warmed his, taking his breath - a piece of his lungs - into yours, and he pushed a little gently into you, chasing your own heart, tasting whatever was closest to the sun.

and then his lips are off of yours and the sun had set, but jean was still warm, a piece of his lungs stuck to your tongue and a piece of the sun stuck between his teeth. he'd keep it there.

[quitealotofsodapop]

"Uh, Monkey King?" MK asked, ducking as a rather expensive pensive looking cloth flew ive this head, "What are you doing?"

"Packing." Sun Wukong grunted, eyeing what appeared to be a ceremonial robe of sorts with a critical eye. MK felt apprehension build in him, remembering what happened the last time he found his master packing.

"Are you... going somewhere?" MK swallowed his anxiety, hoping beyond all hope the answer was no. The gods, however, did not grant his wish.

"Yeah." Wukong sighed, running his hand through his fur, "I got some business that requires me to be gone for about a week. I'll try to keep you updated."

"A week!?" MK parrots back in horror, "But what about my training!?"

Wukong paused, tail flicking, before turning back to MK as if shocked he'd even ask that.

"MK, after everything that happened, do you really think a short break in training would be that big of an impact!?" Wukong asked, legitimately confused by MK's worry, "'Sides, you knot definitely are far enough in your training some self-guided study would be a benefit. If you want i can give you some tasks to do while I'm gone, too."

"But where are you going!?" MK asked, "And don't lie about going on vacation like you did with the whole Lady Bone Demon thing! Wait... is this like the lady Bone Demon? Are you having me behind again!?"

"Uh, no." Wukong grunted, pushing MK out of his face. "I just have some kingly duties to fulfill that require me to take a trip. I'm not going to be gone more than a week, maybe two at most. And Macaque is keeping an eye on the island so if anything happens, he can send a message to me."

MK froze at that, confusion written in his face. He tilted his head as he looked at the other monkey,

"Kingly duties? I thought being the Monkey King meant fighting bad guys and taking naps whenever you want!"

"No." Wukong chuckles, choosing to be amused by his apprentice' backwards comment than offended, "Being the Monkey Kid means fighting bad guys and saving the world. Being the Monkey King is a biiiit more complicated than that."

"...Say what now?"

"Alright, let's just say... I've been kinda keeping a lot of what goes into being my successor a secret." Wukong's paw came up to rub the back of his neck, "With so many major threats popping up all over the place, I'd focused entirely on your training as a warrior, but there's a side I haven't even began to touch. I wanted to make sure you were the best warrior you could be before either tried to add the ksot political and administrative side of being my heir into the fold."

"Politics!?" MK spat out incredulously, staring straight his mentor in disbelief.

"I am the Monkey King, MK. That means I have a whole kingdom to run." Wukong continued, "Any and all of the free time i get is dedicated to training you on top of that! The Counsel of the Great Demon Kings happens every hundred years or so. I hadn't gone to the last four, but since I've made a public reappearance, and with an apprentice at that, I'm expected to go and can't wiggle out of it this time! Believe me, I've tried."

"So like... Are you just up and leaving without me?" MK now looked heartbroken, putting all the puppy dog eyes on full blast, "You promised not to leave me again though!"

Wukong groaned, catching on to what MK was trying to do.

"Kid... you don't want to come with me. It's not going to be fun or exciting at all. You'll be forced to wear uncomfortable ceremonial robes that weigh a ton and have to be quiet and well-behaved." Wukong explained, trying to dissuade MK from his train of thought, "And everyone there is mean! They are dying to sniff out a scandal or two to take advantage of!"

"So? You said yourself you neglected to teach me how to handle politics. This is the perfect opportunity to start!" MK grinned, "I'm sure Tang can lend me one of his robes too."

"First of all, you will NEVER go to one of these events with a stuffy old scholar's robe. I'd lend you one of mine if that EVER happened." Wukong pointed out, eye twitching, "Second, NO! This is a final test sort of deal, NOT a tutorial type of thing!"

hehe! We discussed in the dms about poor Wukong having to attend a political summit for demon kings, and MK getting "homework" for the week.

Pigsy is approving of the homework idea. He's raised MK long enough to know his son needs goals to fulfil or he starts getting into trouble.

[alexas-fandom-and-random-blog]

Well it's late night for me and helluva Boss Mastermind episode just dropped and I'm kinda in the mood to do a live reaction to text of first and honest impressions thingie. So let's go!!

------

Awww. Loona hesitating to burn their first job pic was precious❤️

Holy shit okay Satan's design is the first Sin I actually legit adore! Freaking amazing!😳

Can the the rip-off-Elsa brother (won't bother remembering the name) PLEASE stop calling Stella hot? Neither funny, nor character driven just really freaking creepy! Stop!

Vasago first impression. Uuuh okay? Is the gimmick he's simply gonna talk to another language.

STRIKER JUMPSCARE!!!!

Hiiii baby!! Looking good in that suit! Daaaamn! Good to see ya!~🥴

Warning up to the new VA each episode ngl. Doing a sexy job with it😚

I can't decide if I love or hate the "LINE?" joke... Could work as him not giving a fuck to spell the "fancy" word I guess😆 but mostly it makes him look kinda stupid so yeah... not a fan.

Whatever, moving on!

Tone down Moxxie pulling uwu and crying faces please? Just a bit. It's too much is all I'm saying. He's baby but like it's not endearing if you do it constantly 😢

Animation is so gorgeous tho as always. How rip-off-Elsa moves and uses his power is so smooth!

So Striker just made a guest appearance and fucked off with a wicked smile. I can't!😆

I mean good for him for getting that immunity deal but not even a tiny bit of verbal interaction with I.M.P? Moxxie? Anything? No?? You're killing me man. I am robbed and inconsolable 😭

The Sins interactions are mostly annoying but lmao at Mammon's clown noises bahahahah! Love it!

Uuuh Satan's voice might be doing things to me👉👈

Goddamn his design is amazing too!

Fizz!!! He's trying! Bless his heart he cares about his friend a lot imma cry!

Oh wow! Kudos to Blitzo for giving that speech. Dare we see social commentary that actually hits? And he's using it to save his family? Respect!

The guards are threatening af! I love how creepily slow they move and how that one touched Blitzo after the execution announcement was so foreboding. Really good way to convey the imminent danger. Niiice!

Muzzle on Loona just showing how little she's allowed to be. Even lower than the imps basically. This is sad.

Stolas to the rescue! Ye- Song? OhmyGod🤦 nah man just... okay whatever I'm skipping it, it feels really awkward to have in this situation.

Skip skip skip

Okay no back up back up. Satan singing???

That's-

....

No still don't care about it, too awkward sorry.

Skip skip skip

"This is a sturdy door"

Frick that caught me off guard! 🤣🤣🤣

Oh my god noooo. Via making that sound while crying broke my heart!!! Poor Baby bird!😢

Yeah see having Stella be non abusive and manipulative with her is an amazing idea and I love it but goddamn it, it doesn't work if you present her as absolutely brain-dead and obvious about everything the rest of the time!!!!

...well that was embarrassing 😂

Actually felt more bad about Stolas assuming he'd be sacrificed than the sacrifice itself.

Heroic I know but holy shit 🤣

Really love Satan's entire schtick. Very much a fan! The guy is so entertaining to watch!

Vasago really didn't do much in the end besides fanboy over Stolas did he?😆

"For the next 100 years"

Bahahahahahahahah!!! Get fucked rip-off-Elsa lmaoo!!! That bit was gold!!

And Stolas is common folk now. Okay I guess. I'm very neutral about that.🤷

Ohooo?? Blitzo actually getting support from this whole ordeal?? Oh kudos! Great direction! Very much support it!

More of soft Loona yes!!🥺❤️

(and I'll be willing to pretend the kicking his balls awful nonsense never happened 🙄)

Ah the last scene with Stolas? That was actually so very soft and sweet. Beautiful quiet moment to close off to

----

And that was it🫠

Whelp I didn't think I'd have this many reactions watching the episode.

Overall not bad. I'm going to bed now tho I'm tired🥱

Oh And in conclusion:

Bring Striker back soon!!!!🙏

Goodnight!

[profundcherrylady]

SINGLE DAD!SAE ITOSHI

Exclusive interview with Sae Itoshi!

A/N: I had this in mind while writing the last scenario. This one was so short y'all, promise next one will be a little longer but I've been busy. Also I posted this waaaaay too early before I had finished it omg I wanna kms

Warnings: None this time, y'all are safe.

Contents: Sae being a loving father and lots of fluff; MAY be ooc but be fr I'm convinced Sae would be the sweetest if he had kids.

Description: Exclusive interview! After having won another very successful match, the media takes advantage of the fact that Sae Itoshi can't shut up about his daughter to actually interview him.

He didn't even flinch at the countless flashes of the cameras directed towards his eyes, the news photographers and paparazzi fighting to get a good picture of the still sweaty Sae Itoshi. As usual, his performance on the field was remarkable and the victory of his team undeniable. This was normal to him, of course, but this day wasn't just some ordinary match; his daughter was watching him today. Like, in person, on the stands! It wasn't a common occurrence, and not because she didn't want to but because Sae would almost always say no. After all, he couldn't really keep an eye on her while playing and he felt a little conflicted about just leaving Mao by herself. However, this time she just wouldn't stop insisting, so he had no choice.

It was almost comical to see the little girl sitting among the other serious people in the VIP section, but she was someone important as well. Important to him, at least.

When his team ended up winning thanks to his last goal, he could see her enthusiastic expression and hear her voice cheering for him. She was practically bouncing on her seat, waving her hand trying to get Sae to notice her.

"Papa, that was amazing! Papa, look! Papa, I'm over here!" her screams, of course, reached his ears, and he waved back casually on her direction, an almost unnoticeable smile on his face. "Hi, papa!!"

As much as he would've wanted to go to his daughter immediately, he was unable to avoid the interview, so she would have to wait a little.

"Amazing performance today, Sae." she'd say, and he'd try to ignore so he could go to his daughter, but his efforts were useless as she just kept getting on his way on purpose with the microphone pointing at him and the camaraman following closely. "Any words you want to share with us about it? How did you feel while you were out there?"

"Mhm." that wasn't even an answer; he just wanted to get out of there and get his daughter. But the interviewer was NOT about to let Sae Itoshi walk away from this, so she had to use her last resource.

"Can you tell us more about your daughter being here today?" Sae perked up inmediately, but he wasn't stupid, he knew what she was doing, so he tried to keep his answer short.

"She said she wanted to see this match in person so I brought her."

"Would you say she's a fan of the sport?"

"I'd say she's a fan of me." and just like that he's drifting off. "She does ask to play with me sometimes, but my guess is she just wants to ask for something she knows I'll say yes to; she plays it safe."

"Aww, she asks to play with her dad? Do you think she's good? Maybe we have another Itoshi soccer prodigy in the making!"

"No, don't get me wrong." his voice was sharp and direct, cutting off the enthusiasm off the interviewer's voice. "Weather or not she decides to follow the same career path as me is entirely her decision. I encourage her to do what she likes and find out what she wants to do with her life by following her own passions. I wouldn't put that kind of pressure on her."

"I-I see..." she was a little embarrassed by the way she was cut off, but she was getting answers! "So, what kind of things does she like to do?"

"Mao is a very calm kid, most of the time. She has lots of energy but she's still very quiet when she's at school. So she likes basic things, like drawing, playing with dolls and stuff. Oh, but she has this bunny plushie that she absolutely adores; that's the one she carries everywhere. It was a gift from one of my trips, I don't remember which one, but I gave it to her and she would die if something happened to it. Seriously, there was this one time when she lost it at the park so I had to drive all the way-"

He paused.

Goddamnit, they got him.

He was supposed to end this quick and go get Mao, not stay and ramble about her! When has anyone ever seen Sae Itoshi ramble??? He just gets to the point and leaves??? What is happening to him???

"And what happened?" the interviewer neared the microphone to him, trying to get him to continue. Well, not this time. He cleared his throat before responding, casually gaining back his usual nonchalant expression.

"End of the interview, goodbye."

"What?! Um, w-wait! I have more questions! Uh... how does your daughter see herself in the future?"

"She's six."

"Dang it." she almost bit her tongue while she went through the questions on her head. "W-Well, I mean... what does she want to be when she grows up? Has she told you?"

"I... don't think she has." weird, maybe he should ask after all. "I'll go now. My daughter isn't the most patient person."

"Wait, so, is there nothing she's good at?"

"I didn't say that." he almost got offended. HIS daughter, talentless? Hell no. "She seems to enjoy dancing, and she's pretty good at it. Well, for her age, at least I think it's impressive. I suppose it requires an amount of agility and footwork similar to soccer."

"She must've got it from you then."

"If not me, who? Her mom... is... terrible at dancing..." he drifted again, this time at the thought of his late wife. But NO. He was NOT about to have a moment and cry infront of the media; he had to lock in. "She... was... terrible at dancing." he finally corrected. "So... she must've gotten it from me. Or perhaps is a talent of her own; I don't have to take credit for everything she does."

"But is she good at soccer?" then it finally clicked in his head. WHY was he even answering this questions?

"How is any of this relevant for the interview?"

"Um.. w-we just want to know if... well... your performance on the field was so impressive today! And your daughter is here so... would you say you say you put in a little extra effort for her?"

"Are you implying I don't put in effort normally?"

"No! I just... no, no, no!" they should really give this woman a raise for putting up with this and improvising her questions. "Y-You're such an amazing player, you make it seem effortless..."

"Sure..."

"Would you say your daughter is a big inspiration for you?" he knew the answer to that question; it was yes. Everything he did was for his daughter ever since he became a father, and yeah, he loved the kid, so what? He did like to show off infront of her a little so she could brag about him at school (which he knew she did with frequency). He'd hear from teachers and other parents about his daughter's constant rambling about how cool his dad is, and whenever he did his chest would fill a bit with pride. Ironically, he had millions of people who admired him but the only one he really cared about was that little girl who also asks him to take the crust off her sandwiches and cut it into little star shapes because that's how she likes them, he guesses. And he's tried to tell her is the same thing but she insists they taste different.

"I can say I'm happy to have her. I find myself feeling a bit proud about every little thing she does."

"Any big accomplishments lately?"

"She learned how to count backwards, from ten to one. She can also help me in the kitchen sometimes; with supervision of course, but she tries her best. And she-"

"Papa!" he flinched when he heard Mao's familiar voice nearby, and he saw her running around and getting herself among the crowd trying to reach him. She was carrying that same bunny he talked about earlier and Sae was quick to get her in his arms once she was in arm-length reach. His instincts then kicked in at the first sound of a camera taking a photo as he inmediately hid her face against his chest.

"That's enough now, no photos." in some aspects the media was somewhat the same as a child. You tell them 'no' and they take it as a reason to do it anyways, because the camera flashes grew more frequent and intense.

"Wait! Just one more question!"

"Sae, over here!"

"Look over here!"

"Can we take a look at the kid?"

"Let her answer a question with you!"

"Enough with the cameras." his voice was low, yet firm enough to cease all the commotion. Poor Mao was all fussy with all of those bright flashes and sudden sounds. "Let's go home." he said, his arms now holding a more secure hold on her to walk through the crowd of reporters.

"Papa, you were amazing!"

"I know. I'm always amazing." she giggled, and the sound made him smile as he walked through the crowd of reporters who were still fighting to get his attention. "Are you hungry? I took longer than I expected."

"A little. Papa, can I play soccer too with you?"

"If you want to, sure." he would lie if he said he wasn't tired after the match, but how could he say no to his little girl asking to spend quality time with him? "Let's play when we get home."

"Can I have ice-cream, papa?"

"Why do you want ice-cream suddenly?"

"Because it's yummy!"

"I guess it is." he should really learn how to tell her no. "Sure thing, we'll buy ice-cream on our way back."

"Yay!"

[justalittlelilac]

Hiii! Since you're asking for prompts... how about sick step 2 Qiu with a high fever? Being clingy and accidentally confessing their love for the MC? 🥺

This is so cute, I'm going to lose my mind.

Caring for a prickly, clingy Qiu Lin

Barely revised and edited. If you see mistakes, no you didn't <3

It wasn’t uncommon for Qiu to not answer when you knocked on their bedroom door, but this was concerning. You shifted the food tray in your hands, trying not to spill the steaming chicken noodle soup that Mrs. Lin had carefully prepared. The familiar smell of ginger filled the hallway, reminding you of all the times you'd eaten dinner at their house.

Silence was still your only greeting from behind the barrier separating you and your friend.

“Qiu? It’s me. Your mom sent me up with some food and medicine for you. Can I come in?” You asked, concern lacing your words. You pressed your ear against the cool wood of the door, straining to hear any sign of life within.

There was a beat of quiet, but from the other side you heard shuffling, something toppling with a hollow thud, and the distinct sound of papers and pens falling to the wood floor. Qiu’s voice reached you, except it sounded more like a muffled groan. You took that as enough acknowledgment to breach the quarantine zone.

Qiu’s room was usually messy, but that could be an understatement compared to the scene you were met with now. Beyond the typical scattered clothes and notes, tissues covered every surface like confetti after a party. Wrappers from various types of snacks and cough drops, and the occasional water bottle were like little islands everywhere.

Extra pillows and blankets were strewn about the floor as if Qiu had rotated between their bed and the cooler surface of the hardwood. Your eyes traced a path to their mattress, which housed a rather miserable looking lump. The top of Qiu’s head was the only thing visible from the blankets.

Approaching slowly, you placed the food tray down on their night stand, nearly knocking off half empty water bottles and their journal. Qiu was turned away from you on their side, eyes closed, cheeks red, and their dark hair loose around their face.

"I'm dead. Go away," they grumbled softly. Their form remained turned away from you.

"That's weird. Dead people don't talk," you quipped, making yourself comfortable on the edge of the mattress. Qiu's face didn't change, not even an eyebrow twitch to indicate they heard you. "I really don't want to bury you," you added when they didn't respond, clearly taking your point into consideration.

After a moment, you shrugged your shoulders and rose, giving a dramatic sigh. "Alright, I guess I'll go get the shovel. I was really hoping it wouldn't have to come to this." You turned to head to the door, intending to just venture downstairs to let Mrs. Lin know you had made the successful delivery.

You hadn't taken three steps before Qiu Lin's head popped up, their hair sticking out every which way and glassy eyed.

"Wait," they croaked. You turned back, trying not to smirk as they avoided your eyes. "I may not be dead, but I am definitely dying," they declared, then sneezed into their elbow as if to prove their point. They flopped back onto the bed like a deflated balloon.

"Ew," you responded with another laugh, returning to your previous sitting position. With a sniffle, they stretched their arm, fumbling around on their night stand, and nearly landing their digits in the bowl of soup. You acted fast, reaching over to supply a clean tissue to their hand. Their tired eyes met yours with a small, grateful smile.

"Thanks," they said, before blowing their nose like trumpet. "What are you doing here anyway?" They blinked at you like they'd completely forgotten about the tray of food right next to them.

"You were dead, remember? Your mom let me in because she knows you'd want someone to mourn you properly."

Qiu rolled their eyes, but their smile stuck around. "She probably would rather have you around anyway." They pushed themselves up against their pillows, which took way more effort than it should have.

"Maybe, but I think she'd miss her only child," you assured optimistically, poking them in the leg. They winced, and you immediately felt bad. "And I would too," you added quickly.

Qiu's cheeks grew redder, though with their fever it was hard to tell if you'd actually made them blush.

"I have been sick for years," they insisted, but their tone was a little lighter than their previous attempts to convince you of their demise.

"You're so dramatic. Here, eat and take your medicine. I command it." You placed the tray in their lap like a stern head nurse. They blinked down at the contents, not realizing it was there until now.

"Chicken noodle soup?" was all they asked, eyes shifting from the steaming bowl of broth, noodles, and veggies to your face.

"Your mom said it's your favorite," you shrugged, watching their expression carefully. They didn't react any further than that, and picked up the spoon to begin eating.

The room grew quiet aside for the occasional slurp, but it was a comfortable kind of quiet, the kind that happens when you've known someone long enough that you don't need to fill every silence.

When they finished, Qiu wiped their mouth with their sleeve, then noticed the napkin on the tray and gave you a sheepish look. You just shook your head and handed them their water bottle and the medicine. Once they'd taken everything, you helped move the tray away.

Qiu shuffled in the bed, sinking back down into the blankets. You assumed that was your cue to leave and stood to do so. Subtly, you felt a tug on your pant leg. Turning to look down, you found Qiu's fingers pinching the fabric. Their eyes were closed, but where their face should have been relaxed, ready for rest, was the furrowed brow of confliction.

"I don't want you to go, but I don't want you to get sick too," they muttered into their blanket.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" You couldn't help grinning. Even sick, Qiu was too fun to tease. Their brows furrowed even harder and the corners of their lips pulled down slightly, as if the pain of repeating themselves was greater than the fever ache.

"I said, I don't want you to go, but I don't want you to get sick," they grumbled out, just slightly clearer than before.

Oh.

You had half expected them to ignore you in favor for not having to repeat themselves. Qiu's eyes opened, and they peered up at you expectantly. It took you a moment to realize you needed to respond.

"Oh, well, I guess I can stay for a little while." You tried to play it cool, but it was hard to ignore the feeling in your chest, a mix of flattery and the excitement that came with having a crush.

"Besides, I have an immune system of steel. I'm pretty sure I have ancestors that were impervious to the black plague or something," you added casually as you sat back down.

You were trying to keep the mood light, remembering how your mom would say that laughter is the best medicine. It was also to reassure Qiu that if they wanted you here, you would stay, sickness or not.

It may not have cured them immediately, but you did catch their smile as they scooched over to give you more room. Their bed wasn't huge, but it was big enough that you could fit next to them with while they propped themselves up again.

There was a beat of silence as the both of you were not quite sure where to go from there, but then Qiu Lin broke the pause.

"Sorry," was all they said. Their eyes darted to your face, and then back down to their lap. "About the whole thing," they tacked on after a pause.

"What?" You asked with your head cocked in confusion. Qiu rolled their lips into their mouth, you could feel the heat radiating off them. Hopefully the fever medicine would kick in soon.

"I just don't want you to be bored," they explained, looking at you with an expression that seemed to be asking more than their words were saying.

"Qiu, you are literally my favorite person to be around, you know that," you said it so simply, like it was a universal fact. "I do have my phone though. We can watch videos or something." You reached into your pocket to pull out your mobile device and wave it subtly.

The tension in their shoulders loosened and they nodded at your suggestion. Qiu was a bit slow, but they eventually settled against you. Their body was burning up against your skin, but you didn't mind. You could handle it.

You pulled up YouTube and clicked on a video you'd watched recently. After a while, Qiu's head dropped onto your shoulder, their breathing getting slower and steadier. When you glanced down, their eyes were closed, face finally relaxed instead of scrunched up in misery.

They let out a content sigh, snuggling closer like your mere presence was the cause of comfort and not the ibuprofen they'd taken.

"Your my favorite person too...you're always there for me...that's why I love you," Qiu murmured so softly, so gently, that it came out like they were expressing it more to themselves than to you. As if they had intended it to be said in their fevered mind than out loud.

If the sound of your video hadn't been playing, one would be able to hear a pin drop. That would be due to your halted breath. Your wide eyes lingered on their relaxed, sleeping face.

"I love you too, Qiu," you whispered the words back to them. They didn't respond. Sleep had claimed them once more. Your attention turned back to the video, dissecting what hat just transpired.

Eventually, you did leave Qiu and the Lin residence when you were sure your friend was deep in sleep. Your thoughts were scattered, unsure if Qiu's words were that of a friend or more.

But you didn't get a chance to bring it up, because two days later, the tables turned completely. You and Qiu had switched places as the patient and caregiver.

You were convinced your friend must have had the plague with how bad you were feeling. They called you dramatic in return.

"Maybe it's not the plague, maybe it's a different disease," you mumbled incoherently into your pillow. You were sweating like no tomorrow and the only reason your face was pressed to the soft surface was because it was cooler than the air around you. "Now I'm the one who is going to die and it's going to be all your fault Qiu Lin," you groaned.

Qiu laughed, crawling onto your bed to sit beside you, a mirror image from when they were sick.

"You can't die. If you do, how will I tell you 'I love you more' when you say 'I love you too'?"

You turned your face to theirs, the heat rising in your cheeks was absolutely definitely from the fever, and not from what Qiu had just said. They were giving you that soft lopsided smile they always did as they brushed a piece of hair from your sweat drenched forehead.

"Okay." It was all you could respond for the moment. "I won't die then."