#maybe they just want to hang out without prying eyes watching them

[djarinova]

i hate the whole "girl i aint tryna be mean, but before you there was me" trend on tik tok so fucking much

[paddockletters]

only girl (in the word) | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader summary: Lando and y/n enjoy a night out at a club with friends, but when some girls try to get close, he doesn't allow it and gives you your place as always. author's note: I took inspiration from a tiktok that I saw some time ago and I wanted to write it, so I hope you like it 😭😭

The lights of the nightclub flickered as the music pulsed through the room, blending with the laughter and chatter of the crowd. I leaned back against the VIP section, sipping my drink and watching Lando at the DJ booth with Martin. Both of them were having a blast, messing around with the controller and hyping up the crowd. Nights like this had become a regular thing for us—a little bit of fun, music, and good company with our tight-knit circle.

Even though Lando was always in the spotlight, we had managed to keep our relationship pretty private. Only our closest circle knew. It wasn't that we were hiding it, but having a relationship in the spotlight of F1 could be… overwhelming. It allowed us to just be us without the pressure of prying eyes and the constant speculation from fans or media.

I was watching him goof off with Martin when I felt someone nudge me. I turned to see Max (Fewtrell) , one of Lando’s closest friends, grinning as he leaned over to speak, his voice barely audible over the music.

"He's having the time of his life up there, isn't he?" Max said with a chuckle, motioning toward Lando, who was pretending to DJ like a pro.

"He really is. I’m just waiting for him to mess something up.” I laughed, nodding.

Max laughed, his eyes scanning the dance floor before he leaned closer.

"You know, it’s funny—he never really used to like these kinds of nights before you."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," Max nodded. "He’d always be the one leaving early, saying he had training or a race coming up. But ever since you guys started hanging out, he sticks around longer. Seems to enjoy it more. I think you’re a good influence on him."

"Maybe I’m just more fun than his training sessions." I smiled at the thought.

"Definitely more fun," Max teased, giving me a wink before heading off to join a few other friends.

I took another sip of my drink, feeling the warmth spread through me, both from the alcohol and Max’s words. I glanced back toward the DJ booth, catching Lando’s eye as he looked over at me, a playful grin on his face. He gave me a quick wink before returning to the music, his fingers moving over the controls like he knew exactly what he was doing.

It was then that I noticed a group of girls edging closer to him. One in particular seemed determined to get his attention, her phone already in hand, angling for a selfie or a picture with him. She was bold, stepping right up to him, bottle in hand, and attempting to take the one Lando was holding.

I watched as Lando paused, his smile fading slightly. He gently pushed her hand away, not rough, but firm enough to make his point. I could see him looking around, scanning the crowd until his eyes found mine. His expression softened immediately, and without hesitation, he motioned for me to come closer.

I could feel the girls' eyes on me as I made my way over. Their glances were sharp, the kind of looks that were meant to make you feel out of place, but I wasn’t about to let that ruin the night. Lando didn’t say a word when I reached him, just slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine in a protective, almost possessive way.

"Hey," he whispered into my ear, his breath warm against my skin. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine."

"Good," he said, leaning in closer. "Because I want you right here with me."

He pulled me in even tighter, and I rested my head on his shoulder for a moment, letting the music and the energy of the club surround us. Lando kissed the top of my head, a small gesture, but one that made me feel like the only person in the room.

Just then, Martin leaned over, grinning at us.

"Oi, Lando! You better be careful up here, mate. You’re making her fall for you all over again!"

"That’s the plan, mate!" Lando laughed, his arm never leaving my waist.

"You’re such a dork." I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging him.

"But I’m your dork," he replied with a cheeky grin.

As the night wore on, we danced, laughed, and enjoyed every second. The crowd seemed to disappear, and it was just us, lost in our own little world. But every now and then, I’d catch one of the girls from earlier casting a glance our way, her lips curled in a smug smile as if she was waiting for me to crack under the pressure of being in Lando’s orbit.

It didn’t bother me, not really. Lando had always made sure I knew my place in his life. He wasn’t the type to flirt with random girls or let anyone come between us. But I couldn’t deny that the whispers, the glances, they got under my skin just a little.

After a while, Lando leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "You wanna get out of here?"

I nodded, grateful for the offer. The night had been fun, but I was ready for something quieter, something just for us.

"Yeah, let’s go."

He grabbed my hand, guiding me through the crowd, past the girls who had been eyeing us all night. One of them whispered something to her friend as we passed, but I didn’t catch it. I didn’t need to. The look on her face said enough.

As we stepped outside, the cool night air hit my skin, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Lando squeezed my hand, pulling me close.

"You okay?" he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to brush it off, but decided against it.

"It’s just… sometimes it’s hard being around people who don’t really get us, you know?"

Lando frowned, his thumb brushing gently over the back of my hand. "Did something happen inside?"

I shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It’s nothing, really. Just some girls being… well, girls."

"What did they say?" Lando stopped walking, turning to face me fully.

I shook my head, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

"It’s not what they said, it’s just... their looks. Like they were waiting for me to mess up or something. I don’t know. I guess I’m not used to it."

Lando’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping mine a little harder.

"You know you don’t have to worry about that, right? I’m with you. Only you."

I smiled, touched by his words.

"I know. I just—sometimes it feels like I’m always being watched. Like I’m never enough."

Lando’s expression softened, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. "You’re more than enough. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you aren’t. Especially not them."

I hugged him back, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and for the first time that night, I felt at ease. With Lando by my side, the whispers, the looks—they didn’t matter.

As we pulled apart, he leaned down and kissed me gently, his lips lingering on mine for just a moment longer than usual. When he pulled back, he grinned.

"Come on, let’s go home. I think we are going have a more fun night there."

"Yeah, let’s get out of here." I laughed softly, nodding in agreement.

And with that, hand in hand, we left the nightclub behind, ready to end the night our way—together.

[steddiealltheway]

Steve refuses to tell the kids his middle name. He’s fights them off after El figures out that middle names are a thing and demands everyone to tell her if they have one. And usually when it comes to El, Steve gives in immediately. But he just knows this information will come back to bite him in the ass. So he refuses.

But then they go to Nancy trying to pry the information out of her, but she reveals that she has no idea what it is - ouch but what a relief. Next up is Robin who also reveals she has no idea, and then she joins in on trying to get it out of him.

With the girls on their side, Steve is slightly terrified, but still unwilling to give up the information. He thinks they’ll let it go… but then they’re showing up at his house suspiciously only for Steve to find out that they’re trying to find his birth certificate. That’s when Eddie gets roped into things.

And the thing about Eddie is that he’s curious of course. What could Steve’s middle name possibly be which is so horrendous he won’t even tell Robin? But he respects the man’s privacy. If he wants to keep it to himself then so be it… But Eddie wants to know.

So he starts developing his own plans - without telling the kids or the girls. He thinks getting Steve drunk or high off his ass is probably a bit too manipulative. But maybe he can gain the guy’s trust.

So he starts coming along, pretending like he’s going to help as the kids dig and dig for the information. Steve is always somehow there, even when the kids start looking through the records at the library because some of them needed a ride. But Eddie sticks with Steve, talking to him about anything other than his name - the kids are convinced that Eddie is doing a great job distracting Steve.

And maybe he is, but he slowly forgets any type of ulterior motives when he’s talking to Steve. It’s a blessing and a curse being in the presence of the man.

But then it happens. Steve casually invites Eddie to hang out sometime, and that’s exactly when Eddie will bring up the middle name thing.

When the day comes, Eddie finds himself thoroughly distracted by Steve’s thigh which is pressing against his while they watch a movie. And there’s a large space next to Steve on the couch, but he chose to sit where his is now. It’s a big deal really.

“I’m gonna grab a Coke, do you want anything?”

Eddie asks for a Coke as well, hoping it serves as something to ground him as he hangs out alone with Steve Something Harrington. That’s the moment he remembers the plan. Shit, he’s supposed to be asking him stuff that casually leads to the reveal of his middle name. Easy.

No it isn’t. How the hell is he going to… Eddie glances at the coffee table in front of them to find… Steve’s wallet. Steve’s wallet containing his driver’s license. Steve’s wallet containing his driver’s license containing his full government name.

Oh this is good. This is really good. How have the kids not managed to think of this yet?

Eddie quickly snatches the wallet, opening it to find the driver’s license in a clear pocket. Okay, time to finally learn what’s been gnawing at his brain for days now, and then he’ll never have to tell Steve about it. Ever.

He squints his eyes and reads the name. Then he rereads it. Then he rereads it again.

Steven Edward Harrington

“Edward?!” Eddie yells, cringing at the fact he’s saying his government name.

Steve races into the room, two Cokes in hand and eyes wide as can be. Eddie doesn’t even have time to hide the wallet or any evidence of what he’s been doing. Well. Shit.

“Of course you were on their side,” Steve sighs, a look of betrayal crosses his face. Eddie’s gut twists.

“No, no. Okay, I’ll admit that I was curious, but I was going to find out and just put that secret away in my brain forever. But is my name really so bad?”

Steve turns a bit red as he admits, “I wasn’t hiding it for that reason.”

“Then what are you hiding it for?”

“Because… because…” He sets the two soda cans down with a thud before blurting out, “I thought you’d be making a bigger deal out of it! I thought the kids would make jokes about me having your name. Or you would tell me something along the lines of ‘You already have my middle name, why not take me last name?’ And I was not prepared to deal with that!” Steve rushes out, a hand runs through his hair before he settles his hands on his hips.

That… definitely wasn’t what Eddie was expecting but he can’t help but flirt, “You’re putting words in my mouth, sweetheart, but I can say them if you’d like.”

Steve sighs and points at him. “Exactly that! It just makes me get feel so…”

Eddie tenses up and quietly questions, “Disgusted?”

“Flustered!” Steve replies instantly.

It takes him a moment to process, but then Eddie is standing up and making his way over to Steve with a smile. “I make Steven Edward Harrington flustered?”

Steve rolls his eyes but the small smile and blush rising to his cheeks give him away. “I’m going to change my name,” Steve states.

“And take my last name?” Eddie teases, and Steve lightly shoves at him.

“Buy me dinner first, Edward.”

“How about a kiss first?” Eddie asks with an obnoxiously large grin. It’s immediately wiped when Steve leans in, and Eddie’s eyes flutter shut.

“I’m not that easy,” Steve whispers so close that his lips brush against Eddie’s before he pulls away. “Come on, let’s finish the movie.”

When Eddie’s feet are able to move again, he finds himself sitting even closer to Steve than before, but this time Steve’s hand curling around his is the most distracting thing besides the thought that Steven Edward Munson has a nice ring to it.

[lexirosewrites]

Okay not slick Sunday related but you like angst and I got inspired. Sorry it ran away

So it's post s4, Eddie starts withdrawing. Steve thinks it's from the party in general, but it's just him. He's kind of hurt/insulted and decides after trying to reach out that if Eddie doesn't want to know Steve and all that if what he said in the UD was bs then he doesn't get to know him as a person, though it kind of hurts cause he has a small crush on Eddie. He’s bi, thought Robin and Eddie were aware at least even though they’ve never talked about it.

Well cut to him finding out that everyone else is hanging with them, inviting them separately to things until Steve find out that the party, including Robin went to go see a movie (the lost boys) and Steve was so excited to see it with Robin. (They do this as to keep the peace not malicious intent) So when she's not available Steve goes by himself to stare at the guys and ladies in the movie, except when he gets there he sees the whole party front row and it breaks everything he got left. He feels excluded, like everyone was kicking him out.

So Steve withdraws, the few calls that come he ignores, or he rejects offers to hang out. He starts switching shifts with Kieth and then just stops showing up and quits. I like to believe his mom is a good but misguided mom, so she's worried about her boy. She takes him to Indiana for a doctors appointment.

He goes on these meds to help with his depression episode, (I'm basing this off how my therapy worked) once a week he has to go to Indiana for therapy appointment. So on top of that, his mom starts to think maybe he’d be better off in a larger city, closer to his therapist, maybe find a school that she can persuade her husband to let Steve attend. She knows her husbands is just an attachment best that runs her parents company. She brings it up as softly as she can and Steve promises to think about it, give his friends the benefit of the doubt.

So it’s the end of summer, the kids are going back to school for the 1987-1988 school year, everyone is getting together before everyone goes to schools across the country, Steve decided to host the party. Robin is over the moon that her platonic soulmate seems back to his old self (once again basing this on my own history with antidepressants) if not more bubbly. His mother is there, tanning as all the kids play in the pool, keeping an eye on her boy.

It’s the happiest she’s seen him in the last few weeks, even though his bad days are still prominent. Alls good until Eddie and his Uncle show up, cause he had invited them, he was part of the party, but there was a lingering atmosphere about them. The kids and Eddie are splashing in the pool, Steve just withdraws watching them letting Robin do the rambling she does. She’s going on and on about stuff and starts a story where Eddie had taken her to Indiana to her first gay club and she got to kiss her first girl and she’s just so excited and happy and Steve is just frozen.

That’s what he was planning to do, help Robin meet her own community other than he and Eddie, to branch out. He’s happy for her she’s finally gotten a kiss, but she just gushing about how Eddie did this, Eddie did that, and some part of Steve’s brain just gave up. To him he was finally replaced in Robin’s life.

Without a word and shaking hands, Steve just walks to his mom and whispers that he wants to go to Indiana and start a new life. She just nods and walks him inside and away from others, of course Robin follows (I don’t know, maybe worried or angry that Steve just blew her off after ignoring her for so long). Either way, his mom lets him lay down in the downstairs guest room, away from prying eyes.

She’s already planning the move and her connections while shooing Robin outside. So plans are made, after the party, the week school starts there is a for sales sign and moving truck.

I feel like Dustin would be the one to find them on the way out, ready to tell Steve about his exciting first day as a sophomore. Steve just tells him that he’s gotta move on, that he’s just a phone call away. He’s all but begging Steve, asking who he’d spend time with and watch movies. Steve just tells him they can do that over the phone or he can get Eddie to hang out.

Steve leaves with his mom while Dustin goes and begs Eddie or the others to stop him from leaving. Of course no one knew and the only thing left was a note on the door to Eddie asking him to watch over the kids.

Steve lives better, going to school to be a teacher. He’s got an apartment that he lives in just off the school Campus. It’s been a few years, calls between the group and the kids are graduating. Of course Steve has to go back for graduation, he surprises them. Dustin refuses to not let him go and Robin and Eddie sit and catch up. He comes clean about how he felt pushed out and needed help to work through everything and once he finishes school he may come back.

Let’s just say when Steve talks to them about his last few relationships and they’re just shocked cause they had no idea that Steve was bi. Steve just plays it off that but admits that he had the tiniest crush on Eddie which makes him sputter and ask why he hadn’t said anything. Steve just says he knew Eddie didn’t like him so he wasn’t going to bring it up which leads to both talking out their misunderstandings and apologize.

Let’s just say if there’s a few trips to Indiana for Eddie in the future and then when Steve decides to go back home they become “roommates”

god i am such a sucker for steve suffering and thinking nobody loves him🥺 (don’t read too deeply into that)

[miss-cincaide]

Numbers Three To Ten 

Summary: You feel pity for the way he whines that he’s all alone, that a woman will never want to sleep with him, inadvertently walking right into the sweet torture he’s set out for you, with toys and a set up that leaves you desperately counting up from three to ten. 

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Mahito  Kinktober prompt 6: Gags  WC: 1.9K Warnings: Dark content  including gag ball, light choking, toys, pressure, some unhealthy play, feet, multiple O's, jerking off,

“Women don’t love me!” 

“All women?” You raise a slim eyebrow at the pale-skinned, patched-together curse opposite you. A little smirk plays on your lips as you watch him, his head on his arm, staring at the alcoholic Mohito in front of himself. His free hand grips the measly straw, trying to stab the mint leaves in his drink. “Or just the women you’ve asked out? You know, the normal ones who don’t dig curses, stitches and death-coloured skin.” 

You wave your hand in his general direction, and Mahito sticks his tongue out, making a face of your words. You flip him the bird, and he goes right back to pouting. 

“Ahh, what’s the point? They’re all just going to say the same thing anyway!” Mahito buries his head in his arm like a little moody kid who didn’t get his favourite toy for Christmas. “Unless you’re buying them off the streets, none of them will ever say yes to me!” 

He is precisely like a moody, spoiled kid on Christmas, except where the ‘toy’ is sex, and ‘Christmas’ a woman putting out without him having to pay for the hour. You’d have felt an inch of pity for him if he weren’t the boss's favourite. The fact of the matter is if Mahito wanted anything, Kenjaku would most probably give it to him. He’d make his work his pretty curse ass for it, but Mahito would get his wish fulfilled nonetheless. A fact that made you, who was just hired to do odd jobs here and there, never a guarantee to the group, funds or safety,  just the slightest bit bitter. 

“As I said, just the women you ask out. You can’t expect a babe who sees a grey corpse to drop her panties for you” You take a clunk of your rusty nail half, finishing the drink. “Go for someone with cursed energy; a sorcerer, another curse, hell, even a human with sight who hangs around the cemetery, and your chances of getting your dick wet will skyrocket.” 

Suddenly, Mahito is in your face, eyes wide and a manic grin to match. “So if I ask you for a night, you’ll say yes?” 

You realise you walk right into that one. Some of you feel embarrassed, and others a little awkward at being propositioned so openly at the hideout.  Although you’re alone in this fake hideout bar, with only bottles and glasses to keep you company, there’s no telling who or what is listening in. Still, you hide that embarrassment behind your glass, taking a long sip while considering his question. Mahito is cute, shorter and smaller than your usual type, but not ugly. His power and connections are an added bonus- a make-up factor for his likely shortcomings in other departments. Because let’s face it, those skinny jeans weren’t hiding a 10-incher. 

“Maybe” " you mumble, a hint of a smile on your lips as you down the last of your drink- a feeble attempt to hide from his prying eyes and lewd grin. When that didn’t help or get him to back away, you ruffled his hair as though he were a kid. He gets back in your face, though, slowly licking his lips, something between a pervy grin and a predatory smile. 

You shudder and jump off the barstool. 

“I’m gonna hold you to it”, Mahito calls, finishing his drink and then rushes to catch up to you with quick steps. 

You just roll your eyes, trying to keep your blush at bay as he practically dances around you as though you were a Christmas tree. “So whatcha into, kitten? Choking? Slapping? Doggy? Doesn’t matter! I’m sure you won't return to the boring stuff once you have some of me.” 

He dances around you towards his room, opening it with a kick before jumping behind and urging you in. The place, to your surprise, is barren, practically empty. Everything is meticulously stuffed away in drawers and cupboards. The bed looks clean, almost untouched. Although you probably shouldn’t be surprised if he only used it for ‘fun times’- curses didn’t sleep, did they? 

You find your voice and speak, an unmistakable shake in it as you answer his cocky comment. “Won’t go back? Damn, that sounds like a threat Mahito. Are you going to what? Turn me into one of those moaning blobs of yours.” 

You laugh, he doesn’t.

 He is too busy rooting around the cupboards in his room, moving one thing, second, third, cursing before he’s back in front of you again with such speed he makes you jump. Or was it the room's dim lighting that made you miss his movements? 

“You mean morph your soul? Hmm, I could do that if you don’t behave, that is,” His hands reach for your face, cold fingers grasp your cheeks in one of his hands, and he turns your face side to side before smooshing them together. “ I like my women quiet, you know? None of that fake moans, talk, gaps, praise.” 

You try- and fail- to pull your lips into a frown. “Beggers can’t be choosers”, you try to mutter, but it comes out muffled. You slap his hand away and try to repeat yourself. “Beggars can-” he cuts you off by showing a ball gag against your lips.

Suddenly, Mahito slams you against the door behind you. The little curse, a head shorter than you, suddenly feels the same height. His eyes are practically glowing, a wide, sadistic grin on his face, a knee between your legs, a hand on your throat squeezing just enough to let you know it’s there. And the other is still holding the ball gag to your lips, pushing right past them up against your teeth. 

“ I said, I like my women quiet. Now, be a kitten and do as you’re told. Or else. You won’t like ‘what else’” Mahito watches you, your every reaction, your every breath, a challenge in his expression. The hand around your throat tightens slightly, and you break eye contact with him. 

When did the pewny little Mahito become such a dominating ass? 

You don’t know whether to be surprised, aroused or scared. The one thing is certain: you’re not leaving anytime soon, certainly not until he’s done with you. Almost angrily, your teeth part, and you wrap your lips around the gag ball. Instantly, Mahito’s hands let go of your body and reach behind you to tie the thing firmly into place. 

“ That's not so bad, right?” You groan a reply, words unformable. “Ahh ahh ahh, quiet women, remember?” Mahito waves a finger in front of you in a side-to-side motion before tilting your chin up. Then his hand trails lower, first slowly, then inhumanly fast, as though he had several arms. “You won’t be needing those”

You blink, your clothes are gone, your naked aroused body on full display. But he isn’t fucking touching you, no, Mahito is pulling you to his bed. He stops you a distance away, changes his mind and jumps behind you, his hands on your eyes. “Let's make it a surprise, a fun surprise doll. To warm you up, pick a number, let's say between one and five.” 

Remember his wonders: you raise your fingers, three. Number three feels safe, even as he pushes you to the bed and then kicks you into it. You brace yourself against the covers, wiping off the dripping ball against the sheets. You feel yourself shudder in anticipation, shifting a little on the bed to rub your legs together, getting yourself even more worked up. This is so weird but also exciting, definitely kinky.

Maybe you’ll even get off on this.

You hear him count: one, two, three. What even was three? You don’t know; it felt like a middle ground, a safe place – oh god! 

A fucking vibrator?! Straight on your unexpected clit?!

You scream, and the ball muffles the sound, the feeling so intense you try to wiggle away from it. Mahito pulls your right back, a foot landing on your head keeps you from squirming away, a hand pulls your arms back, locking them on your back, and the other hand’s torturing your pussy. On your clit, around it, down your slick folds and back up again. Speeding up, slowing down. Pressing hard down, then gentle, then gone. 

“Ohh, is it so intense, kitten? Let's see how you handle number 4” Mahito’s foot readjusts on the back of your head, pressing your drooling face into the mattress. You’re shuddering, gasping in anticipation, trembling.  

Is number four bigger? Is it also a vibrator? A dildo? FUCK it was a rabbit. Four inches inside you, two vibrating ears bullying your clit. 

“Mmmmm!” 

The ball in your mouth is tight and soaked, drool pooling under your face, leaving a huge wet patch on the bed. But it doesn’t match the gush of your pussy around the toy. Hot juices everywhere: on Mahito, on his hand and the bed. And you’re whimpering and twitching on the bed even after the toy is gone, and his foot still keeps your face down, you keep your needy ass up.  

“Five?” 

You nod quickly. The foot disappears, and he pulls you up with his hair. You’re on your knees on the bed, hands behind your back. Mahito holds it for you as you slide down the five-inch dildo. Once it’s snuggly inside you, he lets it go, leaving you to bounce on it alone. 

You don’t disappoint, whining as you ride it. Your eyes locked with him, the way he watches your every move from the sidelines. Hand on his cock, stroking himself to your thrusts. You want to give him a show, throwing your head back, putting extra effort in your thrusts so your tits bounce up and down with each thrust of your hips. You whine and slobber, drool pooling around the gag before it rolls down your chin. 

You stick your tongue out and lap at the ball from the side just a little. In that second, you see something change in Mahito; he’s moaning, his hand picking up speed, and then slows down as you do. “Keep going, kitten, come on, work those slutty thighs. Go on; I wanna hear you moaning as you cum around that tiny toy.” 

Who are you to deny him? 

You drop back on your back as your come, eyes on the ceiling, desperately panting, keenly aware of the toy slowly sliding out of your slick hole. You whine a little; you want it in you, pushed as far as it would go. Mojito leaves you whining, not letting you touch it or yourself until your breathing goes back to normal.

You’ve recovered; it's time for round three. 

“Still Needy?” Mahito’s laughing at you, toying with you, pushing the tip of the Rabbit in and out, relishing in the sight. “If that’s how you’re at five, just wait until we get to ten, kitten.” 

You want to scream ‘fuck yeah,’ but all you let out is an excited moan and a manic grin that matches his own. You don’t know why you hesitated to sleep with Mahito or why anyone would hesitate to have such intense sex with him, but at this point, you consider it their loss. Because after five, there are still four numbers, and your pussy can’t wait to try every one of them out. 

To see which one you like best, of course.

Author note! God it's so frustrating that Tumblr keeps filtering my fics out from the latest feed.. anyone knows why it keeps doing that?

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[multifan2022]

Fearless 2

PART 1

It doesn't surprise you that Beatrice and Christina jump holding hands, it was clear they would be friends. Maybe that would help, if she had others her own age to model her behavior off of. As they tumbled and skid to a stop you heard the dark haired girl laughing, smiling to yourself remembering your first time. 

You and Four had held hands, being the only two 'gentle' transfers. Eric had made fun of both of you, only to tear up himself as his knees ripped open under the gravel. Four who then was Tobias had picked the gravel out of your cheek as you both laughed. Your friendship bloomed from there, too this day he was the only other person besides Tori you trusted 100%.

Christina will fit in with Dauntless thrill seekers, such as yourself. You're pulled from your thoughts by a scream, Rita standing on the ledge crying and screaming looking down. You knew without looking that her little sister hadn't made it, it broke your heart. You were thankful when Theo stepped up to hold her back from falling herself. 

You looked away from the transfers and looked up to the sky, willing the tears to go away before anyone sees them.  You can hear Theo trying to calm her down as others walked over looking over the ledge. You hoped that the transfers realize now, that not even Dauntless born are safe now. 

Closing your eyes briefly you open them the second you hear that annoying guys voice again. "Ooh. Scandalous! A Stiff's flashing some skin!" Your eyes land on Beatrice who has her sleeve pulled up, you can tell this one is going to cause problems too. Noting in your head to watch him and to alert Four. Just as you go to tell him where to shove his mouth Max speaks, pulling everyone attention besides your own. You keep your eyes on the Stiff, as if you can will her to listen too you. 

"Listen up! My name is Max! I am one of the leaders of your new faction! Several stories below us is the members' entrance to our compound. If you can't muster the will to jump off, you don't belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first."

"You want us to jump off a ledge?" asks an Erudite girl, her mouth hanging open. As a trainer your already taking notes as to who you think the weaker ones will be. Rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as you turn to look at Max, who's smiling at you clearly amused not only by the girl but by your reaction. 

Max always told you that you should've been born into Dauntless, he never understood how you were Amity. "Yes," Max says clearly holding in his laughter. 

"Is there water at the bottom or something?"

"Who knows?" He raises his eyebrows and waving over the ledge, you remember your own group again. You were the first jumper, having to literally pry your hand out of Tobias's who was the last jumper. The blood is pumping in your ears as the group parts waiting to see who has the balls to go first. 

You clench your jaw when she finally steps forward making her way to the ledge thankfully not looking at you as she passes. You can hear the Dauntless around you start to whisper and turn the look on your face shutting them up quickly. When she steps up you can see the doubt on her face, the fear clear as she pulls her over dress off. 

But the defiance steps in as she throws it directly at the annoying Candor boy. A chuckle breaks through the silence, it takes a second for you to realize it was yours. Steeling your face back up you watch as people start up again with the catcalls and laughter. 

She doesn't yell after her foot leaves the ledge, she doesn't scream on her way down and you're slightly impressed. You also know that it could be the choking fear keeping her quiet like it did Four. Max even looks a little impressed, and as you thought Christina was the next to step up. 

One by one each person jumps, some scream, some laugh but others mostly initiates stay silent in fear. They now know there has to be something at the bottom, but they still don't know what it is.  Soon they are all gone, leaving only those of you who are top tier members. 

"So Y/n, whats your first impression of the newbies?" Zeke asks, bringing everyone attention back to you. The one place where you really hate, is under everyone's scrutiny.

Uncrossing your arms and moving to lean against the ledge you pause acting like your thinking. Its of course fake, they all know that, they know you are quick to judge and your opinion is hard to change. 

But its one of the reasons you make an excellent trainer, that and that your normally right. You can find their weaknesses within the first few encounters. That's why you're partnered with Four, who then will push those weaknesses until they break. 

"Really I only have an opinion so far on four of them. The Stiff is either going to excel or completely fail, haven't decided yet. The short Candor girl will fit in here well once she learns to control her mouth. The tall Candor girl is fake. Shes gonna act tough, fight hard but she will ultimately fail. And last but not least that annoying ass Candor boy, I have a feeling Im going to have fun breaking him in. Hes pissed me off already and its only been an hour and a half since I met him." 

Max nods taking notes as you speak, hes a very efficient leader. You don't always agree with him, but it's one of the reasons you get along. You're one of the few people here that gives him an honest opinion. That's also the reason hes training you to take over for him, of course Four was his first choice. But he turned it down so hey, his loss right?  

Once you take over it wont matter. He will be your second whether he likes it or not, you'll kill Eric if you have too. 

After a few more moments of conversation the rest start jumping, until it's just you and Max. He gives you a questioning look, but you shake your head indicating that you don't want to talk. He knows how much you hate running into your brother, hes assuming thats the reason for your mood. You let him run with his assumptions, leaving you alone on the roof for a moment. 

You know you only have a moment, so you remind yourself of who you are. Just a moment to feel the weakness that having two more Divergents here brings. The crushing load of responsibility your promise to Tori lays on your shoulders.  

You are brave. 

You are fearless.

You are Dauntless. 

And with that final sentence you stand back to the darkness, and fall. The ride to the net is too short, the adrenaline that runs through your veins fading too quickly. You hear those who know you chanting your name as you roll yourself off, scoffing at your best friend who's standing right there. He smirks a little knowing you're pretending to be offended that he didn't help you. 

Once everyone leaves, besides you, Four and the initiates, the two of you lead them down a narrow tunnel. The tunnel is lit at long intervals, so in the dark space between each dim lamp. One that if you didn't know where you were going you could easily feel lost or disoriented. 

When we stop I turn and watch as the Stiff runs into someones back, holding back the sigh that wants to escape badly. "This is where you divide,The Dauntless-born initiates are free to go to your dorm. I assume you don't need a tour of the place."

They break away from the group and dissolve into the shadows. You watch the last heel pass out of the light and look at those who are left. Most of the initiates were from Dauntless, so only nine people remain. Of those, only one Abnegation transfer, and there are no Amity transfers. The rest are from Erudite and, surprisingly, Candor. 

You know Four likes to get the first word in, so you tuck your feminism away for the time being and wait for him. "Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor," he says. "My name is Four."

Christina asks, "Four? Like the number?" You somehow manage to hold in the chuckle that wants so badly to escape when you see his face. "Yes," Four says. "Is there a problem?"

"No."

"Good. We're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It—"

Christina snickers. "The Pit? Clever name."

Four walks up to Christina and leans his face close to hers. His eyes narrow, and for a second he just stares at her. "What's your name?" he asks quietly.

"Christina," she squeaks. "Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction," he hisses. "The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?"

She nods, and again your holding in your laughter. You cant wait to make fun of him for this later, cant wait to tell Tori about the bravely stupid girl. Four starts toward the shadow at the end of the tunnel. The crowd of initiates moves on in silence.

"What a jerk," she mumbles as she and Beatrice, now Tris, walk past you. "I guess he doesn't like to be laughed at," she replies and this time you do laugh. They both jumped, clearly forgetting you were still in the room. "He also doesn't like smart asses, He wont tolerate you talking behind his back either. So learn quickly or the next few weeks will be harder than they need to be." You say before jogging to catch up with Four, shoulder checking the kid you don't like on the way. 

He opens his mouth and starts to speak "Watch where you're going Bitch!" The second his voice rang through the corridor Four stopped, but when the word Bitch left the pour guys mouth all Fours muscles tensed. He knew you could handle yourself, but he had a hard time tucking his chivalry away when it came to you. "Excuse me?" He says going to step forward but your hand on his chest stops him. 

Your busy smiling at the dumb ass who just spoke, so you dont see Tris's eyes linger on your hand on Fours chest.  "Whats your name dumb ass?" You say still smiling but cocking your head to the side condescendingly.

"Peter.." He says threw his teeth as some of the guys cover their laughter with coughs. You nod, and without thinking drag your hand down Fours arm, squeezing his hand to let him know you're ok. It's an innocent movement, none of them know what happens behind closed doors. You feel him relax a fraction as you let go and take steps towards the group. 

"Im Y/n. I'm also one of your trainers, I am also one of Dauntless's leaders." You watch as Peters face pales, and chuckle bringing your hands up to effortlessly put your hair in a messy bun. "I will be taking over for Max when he retires, meaning I will be the one that chooses how your life here functions. And for me..." You draw on, turning back to start leading the group away noticing Fours eyes locked on Peter. 

"First impressions are everything." 

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 10

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

The studio is silent when you enter, the door clicking softly shut behind you. Neither of its occupants stir, even though Chan had just called out for you to come in when you'd knocked; he's staring at his computer screen now, fingers hovering over a keyboard as he listens. Han is on the other side of the room, fast asleep on the sofa with him mouth hanging half-open. 

A coffee cup sits in the ground next to him and his phone dangles from relaxed fingers, dangerously close to falling. You lean over and grab it just as it starts to slide from his grasp; Han doesn't stir, not even when your shadow falls over his face. You catch a glimpse of his phone screen before your thumb locks it, long lines of lyrics set out in a basic notes app, the top bar lined with notifications; you put it down hurriedly on the armrest of the sofa, not wanting to pry.

When you look up, Chan is watching you, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Hi," you say, turning your back on Han. Your hands are awkward after touching his phone - you fold them in front of you, one hand twisting at the fingers of the other.

"Hi," he replies softly, and smiles - something that's meant to be encouraging, you think, but this is so far out of your normal routine that you don't think there's anything that would let you just relax, rather than standing here awkwardly in the middle of the room with nothing else around to draw his attention.

"There's another chair over there," he says, pointing to the corner behind you. "Come and listen to this."

A clear goal. An easy one to achieve too - the breath rushes from your chest as you drag the chair over to his desk, some of the tension in your limbs draining out with it. You sigh again as you sit down, this time as your tired body presses back into the seat and finally finds relief - you've been engrossed in practise all day, sliding right past lunch and nearly dinner too, barely stopping for a break. Not that you'd meant to, you knew better than that, but when you'd felt like you were actually getting somewhere-

"You look tired," Chan comments as he hands you a set of headphones, one hand idly untangling the wire as it stretches out to you. His voice is decidedly neutral, his tongue lazy as it lets the English syllables slide past one by one. He talks to you in English almost all the time recently, you've noticed; ever since the album released, or maybe a little before. Not that you mind. English is...comfortable, in a way that Korean sometimes isn't. It's always been easier for you to be Australian.

"Practise was good today, though," you reply. "I feel like I might actually be able to dance in the group without sticking out now."

"You've been doing that for a while," Chan says, bemused. "Lee Know didn't have anything to say at all the other day."

You can't help the derisive snort that escapes your mouth, swallowing the acerbic laugh that tries to follow it before you can make even more of a fool of yourself. It's so rude; maybe you are tired. You certainly aren't as careful as you usually are, even though you know that can preclude trouble. "I don't think he's being as hard now that I'm not debuting in two weeks," you blurt out, and then drop your eyes down to the headphones in your hands. 

"That doesn't mean he's lying," Chan insists. His hand pats your knee - just a brush of his fingers, there and there and gone again. "You don't really need all this practise anymore, you know."

A shrug works its way up to your shoulders, though it feels more like a defensive hunch than anything else. "I'd rather practise than waste my time sitting around," you answer, and at least the words are strong, even if your body is not. "Especially when there's still a chance I could end up sitting around in Australia by the end of the year."

Something flashes across Chan's face, twisting at the edges of his mouth for just a moment before disappearing - disappointment, or frustration? It twists at your gut twice as hard, whatever it is, upsetting the delicate balance you'd found for just a moment while sitting here. "Do you want to listen to this song?" he asks, changing the subject before you can say anything to defend yourself. "We recorded it roughly, but I need a real version of it, and I think you'll like it..."

His voice trails off as he turns to the computer, pulling up whatever he's been working on. You take that as a sign to pull the headphones over your ears, offsetting one side slightly so that you can still hear him. Music fills your ears - a slow, roundabout beat and a heavy bass, overstrung by lyrics about bravery and fear and the darkness of being alone. Beautiful, in a way you're not sure how to express, and artistic, winding its way into your chest where you won't easily forget it.

You really like this song, so much that you're almost afraid to admit it; because if you did, you'd have to admit too, how its spiralling beat brushes against that dark spiral of anxiety that always lives in your chest, and the cold memories that the words stir up-

"I like that," is all you say when the music ends, one final downbeat cutting through the instruments abruptly.

"Really?" Chan asks, like it's unexpected, or unbelieveable.

"Of course," you insist, headphones sliding down around your neck. "You really want me to sing that?"

"Well, if you're going to spend all of your time working anyway, you might as well do some of our work for us," he says, the tone of his voice and the way his head tilts to point at Han's sleeping form informing you that he is joking. "Listen to it a couple more times, I'll see if Han has the lyrics written down on his phone, and then we'll try it."

"Why wouldn't you be able to sleep?"

Chan's voice startles you, loud after a long period of silence. You hadn't even seen him turn to look at you, or even stop working to check the messages that are popping up in the group chat, his phone propped loosely between his hand and the table. "What?" you ask, one hand coming up to stifle a yawn as it tugs at your jaw.

Chan glances down at his phone screen as another message pops up, and then back at you. "Earlier, you said you wouldn't be able to sleep if you went home," he says, by way of explanation.

"Oh, right." You'd forgotten about that text. You hadn't really thought about it being something that might raise questions at the time; you'd been more focused on the sudden worry you'd had over him assuming that you were regularly here all day and all night. "My house is just too quiet sometimes, I guess. I'm not really used to living alone."

His head tilts, curiousity flaring in his eyes. "You know, I've never actually asked where you live," he says. "Are you still in the dorms?"

"They gave me an apartment," you answer. "I think we're in the same building, actually. That's what they told me, anyway."

"Really?" His eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise. "And you've never come over for dinner? Changbin hasn't dragged you to the gym? No one's run into you in the hall?"

"Lee Know sat in my living room for like ten minutes once?" you offer weakly, though you know it's not nearly what he's looking for. You've got nothing to offer him - even Minseo hasn't been over in a few weeks, each of you too busy on your own trajectory to cross paths. You'd had lunch in the cafeteria twice, and that was all, far from the silent walls of your empty house and it's too-big rooms.

A smile ghosts across Chan's face, strangled by the constant turn of his thoughts back to the problem he thinks he has identified. "On his way back from the store?" he questions knowingly, and you nod.

"He said no one was home at your place."

"If he went into our house, why did he-" he starts, and then cuts himself off halfway, shaking his head. "You should come over for dinner or something. Watch one of Han's animes. If I'd known you were in the building, I would have invited you ages ago."

Apprehension rises in your chest at the openness of the invitation, the way he's able to simply pick it up and throw it out there without even a moment of hesitation. Not that you should feel dread over something as simple as an invitation to dinner, with a group of people you now see every day anyway...but you've never really seen them outside the studio, and you wouldn't know what to expect even if you sat here and tried to guess. 

And even this, sitting here in the dark talking to Chan, is something you've never done before, the reason why you'd sat here so quiet when you'd first come in; if your body wasn't so tired, if the night wasn't dragging on into morning as you spoke, you don't think you'd have been able to sit so still in this chair at all.

"Maybe," you say, acknowledging the invitation with a dip of your chin. "When there's time. I'm really busy practising for debut right now, and I don't want to miss anything."

You're surprised by the look that passes over his face, the tightening of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. "You spend a lot of time in that studio," he says - and you're not sure what to think about the tone of voice that he uses, switching back and forth between stern and...soft, like he's worried he'll say the wrong thing or something. As if he could do something wrong here, when he is the leader and you are-

Well, nothing. You're nothing. God knows what he sees when he looks at you, other than the trainee he was unwillingly saddled with.

"Yeah," you acknowledge, because there's no use in denying it when you know they know the kind of hours you've been pulling. There being eight of them just means it's impossible to avoid running into one of them at every strange hour of the day. "If these are the last three months I have here, I don't want to waste any of it."

"You said that at the concert," Chan recalls. "You still feel like you're not going to debut?"

The memory sits awkwardly in the air of the room; you shift in your seat, shrugging as lightly as you can pull down the movement of your shoulders, trying to play it off. "Do you still think I'm scared of you too?" you question, trying to play it off easily rather than having the words slide heavy from your tongue.

Amusement dances in his eyes. "Maybe not so much," he answers. "You made a joke earlier."

You frown. "Is that...weird? I make jokes all the time, don't I?"

"Not as often as I'd like," he says, and then his face softens. "It was nice, though. So is this - us, talking."

"Mm," you hum, your mouth closed around several sentences that spring immediately to mind. The instinct to measure everything you say and watch your mouth is burnt into you, caution wrapping its cold little hands around your throat every time you start to relax. And now you don't know what to say, when it feels too pointed to make a joke after he's just pointed it out, and too crass to pull out excuses for why this sort of one-on-one rarely happens - and then silence stretches too thin, and time ticks too far onwards, and you've missed-

"Can I tell you what I think?" Chan says and leans back, his arms reaching towards the ceiling as he stretches.

A breath hitches in your chest, apprehension freezing it still. "Okay," you say, your hands twisting together.

His gaze is steady when it returns to you, his hand still where it comes to lie flat on the surface of his desk. In the background, Han shifts in his sleep, the couch cushions shifting underneath him. "I think you're scared to be one of us," he says, every word carefully measured against some weight you cannot see. "And you're scared to trust us. Maybe just me, specifically."

Your heart leaps into your throat in surprise, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. "I'm not-" you begin, but his hand lifts in the air, stopping you short.

"I don't mean in a bad way," he hurries to add, before you can go on. "I understand why; I wouldn't trust anyone either after what happened to you with Midnight. And I've been there before, you know, so...so I know why, I promise. But...I wish you would let me help you. I really want to help you."

You swallow hard, but the lump in your throat remains, the tears threatening to gather in the corners of your stinging eyes. Your stomach feels like its been turned upside down, your equilibrium shaken and turned around. "I..." you begin, as if you have a response, but nothing follows it, your mind racing to catch up in a conversation you hadn't expected to have and didn't plan for. "I...this is my last chance. If I stop, if I..."

"Hey," Chan says. "I understand, okay? And I'm not going to kick you out, or yell at you, or whatever it is you think a leader does. I like having you around, it's too late for all of that now, okay?"

The joke is light, struggling to lift itself in the oppressive air of the studio, but it makes its way to you anyway, lifting a little of the weight off of your shoulders. "I really like your music," you tell him, and push a deep breath down into the bottom of your lungs. "I want to be one of you, really, and I don't - I don't think you would do that, I swear, I just...I know that it's not always up to you. The company can do what they like, and if they think I don't look like I fit in, or I'm not working as hard as you do, or they just don't like how-"

"You shouldn't worry about that," Chan says over the top of you, his face changing. "That's my job - you leave that to me, and focus on the things your working on."

You look down at your hands, then over at Han - anywhere but his gaze, when you say, "I can't trust them to listen to you. Not until I make it to debut."

Chan falls silent, long enough that your eyes stray back to him, unable to look away for any longer. You find a mess of emotions written across his face, lit by the illumination of his computer screen as he messes with the mouse, his attention far away from the track he's idly playing with. 

"Okay," he says when he's done, forcing his hand to move away from the keyboard. "I meant to talk you out of burning yourself out, but I don't think that's going to work."

"Sorry," you say mutely, and feel your shoulders hunch.

"It's okay," he says, before you can retract into yourself completely. "It's okay to be scared. It is scary. So, let's come to an agreement."

There's an unintended challenge in his voice, a way that his eyes watch you that incentivises you to sit up straighter and swallow down all that cold anxiety that freezes in your veins. "Okay," you say willingly. "Like what?"

You like the silent approval you see in his face, the way his mouth relaxes and starts to untwist from the frown it had turned itself into several minutes ago. "You promise me that you know how to take care of yourself, and you can practise as much as you feel like you need to until debut and we won't stop you," he says, "but after debut, you promise you're going to slow down. And you're going to trust me."

It's funny - you hadn't thought anything but the result at the end of these three months would make you feel better, but somehow, he strings together the exact right words to lift that weight off your chest and shine a light down the tunnel. You hadn't thought anyone would be able to do that. Maybe that's why you'd been locked away in the dance rooms, all alone; maybe he was right that you didn't trust anyone, and that maybe you should start.

"I can do that," you say, nodding in agreement. "And I can take care of myself. I won't debut if I'm injured, or I collapse or something."

"Good," he says, satisfied, and then adds, "And you come over for dinner, whenever we invite you. And you go out with your friends again. One of the girls from Midnight chased me down the other day to ask about you, and honestly I'm kind of scared of ignoring her."

"Minseo," you say and, inexplicably, you smile. "Sorry. She's...an extrovert."

"Two jokes," Chan points out, and then laughs at the look on your face, turning away to shut down his computer. "It was fine. She was cool. You have good taste in friends."

"We've been here together for a long time," you say, your eyes idly tracking the movement of his mouse. You glance at the clock in the corner of his screen just by chance - and then do a double take when you see the number there, squinting as if you've misread it. "Is it four AM?"

"It is, actually," Chan sighs as the screen goes dark, closing the laptop and pushing his chair back towards the couch. "Time to go home, I think. Do you want to walk with us?" 

His hand reaches out to rouse Han, the other reaching for the boy's phone, left abandoned on his desk. His coffee still sits abandoned on the ground, long gone cold since that first conversation in the group chat that had led to all of this. Funny, how that one little thing, left forgotten on the floor, had led to a night you wouldn't soon forget. 

"I'd love to," you reply, and reach for the coffee before anyone can knock it over, throwing it in the trash. 

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002 @hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff @splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit @jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @slutfortits @duhgurl @cheshireshiya @worcesheshestershiresauce @defnotfertilizedtoesw

[awkward-walking-potato]

Heyy! If you're comfortable enough , I was wondering if you could do something similar to one of your stories for wade; courting death but with nightcrawler?

Maybe something like death is nocturnal and walks xaviers schools hallways at night and reader(death) and nightcrawler bump into each other ?

(Ps. I want to watch your writing its so good!!!!!!)

Whispers of moonlight

The halls of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters were eerily quiet at night, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The moonlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long, soft shadows that danced across the floor. The students were all asleep, their dreams untroubled for once, thanks to the vigilant protection of their mentors and friends. But in the stillness of the night, a figure moved, silent and unseen, as if it were part of the darkness itself.

You were used to the quiet, to the feeling of the world at rest. The night was your domain, a time when your presence as Death felt less like a burden and more like a natural part of existence. You didn’t choose this mutation, this role that tied you so closely to the end of all things. But you’d learned to embrace it, to find beauty in the moments others feared. The night was when you felt most at peace, when you could walk the halls without the weight of expectation pressing down on you.

It was during one of these walks that you first saw him.

Kurt Wagner—Nightcrawler—was a familiar face around the mansion. His blue skin, glowing yellow eyes, and tail set him apart, even among mutants. But it wasn’t his appearance that caught your attention that night. It was the way he moved, graceful and fluid, as if the darkness welcomed him just as much as it did you.

You turned a corner and nearly collided with him. His eyes widened in surprise, but there was no fear in them, only curiosity. “Ah, guten Abend,” he greeted, his voice warm and soft, as if he didn’t want to disturb the stillness around you both.

“Good evening, Kurt,” you replied, your voice a whisper in the quiet. Most people shied away from you, sensing the weight of your mutation, but not him. He looked at you like you were just another person, not the embodiment of something as final as death.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his expression inviting, not prying.

“Something like that,” you answered, a small smile playing on your lips. “What about you? Why are you wandering the halls so late?”

He chuckled softly, his tail swaying lazily behind him. “I’ve always loved the night,” he admitted. “It reminds me of the circus. We used to perform under the stars, with lights so bright you could almost forget it was dark. The cheers of the crowd, the thrill of the performance... it was magical.”

You listened intently, picturing the scenes he described, the vivid colors and sounds of the circus coming to life in your mind. “It sounds wonderful,” you said, genuinely touched by the joy in his voice.

Kurt’s eyes softened as he looked at you. “And what about you? What brings you out into the night?”

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “I’ve always found peace in the quiet of the night. It’s when I feel most... myself. The moon, the stars—they’re like old friends. I like to walk and think, sometimes I even recite poetry to them.”

His curiosity deepened, and he moved a little closer, his presence comforting. “Poetry?”

You nodded, glancing out the window at the glowing moon. “There’s something about the night that brings out the poet in me. The way the world changes when the sun sets, how everything seems softer, quieter... It’s beautiful in a way that���s hard to describe.”

Kurt’s gaze followed yours to the moon, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Would you share one with me? A poem, I mean.”

You paused, searching your mind for the right words, then began softly, your voice blending with the silence around you:

“The moon hangs low in the midnight sky, A silver thread in a tapestry of black. Her light is gentle, her whispers shy, Guiding the lost souls on their track. In her glow, the world is still, A breath held tight, a heart at peace. She watches over, calm and chill,Until the dawn, when all shall cease.”

Kurt listened, enraptured by the calm in your voice, the way your words seemed to carry the very essence of the night. When you finished, he was quiet for a moment, as if he didn’t want to break the spell your poem had cast.

“That was... beautiful,” he said finally, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. “You have a gift.”

You looked at him, surprised by the warmth in his words. “Thank you, Kurt.”

From that night on, things changed. Kurt made it a point to stay awake, to meet you in the quiet halls when the rest of the world was asleep. The two of you would walk together, exchanging stories—his of the circus, of the bright lights and cheering crowds that made him feel alive; yours of the moon and the stars, and the peaceful beauty you found in the night.

He told you of his daring acts, of the joy he felt soaring through the air, the thrill of the audience’s adoration. You shared more poems with him, painting pictures with your words of the serene, nocturnal world you loved.

As the nights passed, Kurt began to understand you in a way few others did. He saw the beauty in your quiet strength, in the way you carried the weight of your mutation with grace. And you, in turn, found comfort in his presence, in the way he brought light to the darkest hours.

The mansion’s halls no longer felt lonely. They were filled with whispered stories and shared smiles, with the soft sound of your laughter and Kurt’s joyful energy. The night became something to look forward to, a time when you could be yourself, not just Death, but a person with hopes, dreams, and a deep appreciation for the world’s quiet moments.

And as the two of you stood together under the moonlight, you couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, you had found something just as magical as Kurt’s circus—companionship, understanding, and a connection that transcended the boundaries of day and night.

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Rules of Engagement

**The last aside I currently have for the arctic siren AU! This is ALLL fluff**

Dick was confused. Jason, his precious little brother, had been acting strange for a few days- searching things on his phone during patrols, checking his personal bank account on the Batcomputer, and generally being shifty.

Now, Dick Grayson knew when to ignore things. He might be a bat, but he’d spent enough time with Young Justice to be emotionally competent like that. Whatever was going on with Jason? Probably shouldn’t just be ignored. He didn’t want another duffel bag incident.

Not that he expected that to happen- it had been almost a year since Jason’s last pit-fueled outburst, and he still hadn’t explained what happened to make them go away. Dick wouldn’t pry- his little wing was happier than he’d ever been, with a steady boyfriend and a fast hold on the crime in Crime Alley.

“What do you want, Dick?”

“Hey Jay! Want to hang out with me today?”

“I… had plans already.”

“Oh. Well, maybe we can hang out tomorrow? Get some bonding time in?”

There was a long pause, and Dick let it happen so that Jason could think about what he wanted to say.

“You could come with me. On my errand.”

Feeling a thrill of triumph, Dick nodded furiously, before remembering he was on the phone.

“Sure! What errand are we running?”

“A shopping trip. Dress nice.”

~~

Dick waited impatiently for Jason to ride up the long drive, motorcycle helmet in hand. He was almost shaking with excitement to hang out with his brother.

Much to his surprise, instead of stalling and waiting for Dick to get on, Jason pulled to the side and parked his motorcycle.

“Hey, little wing! Need something in the manor?”

“In the garage.” Jason wasn’t meeting Dick’s eyes. “We’re taking the BMW.”

Dick followed bemusedly, and they passed and equally bemused Tim on the way. Jason glanced at Tim, then at Dick, and then scowled.

“You can come, Drake, but I’m not taking the Demon Brat.”

“Hey! I had to dress nice, but Tim gets to come in jeans and a t-shirt?”

Jason grinned back at Dick.

“I like him better right now.”

Dick faked a swoon as they walked.

After a short squabble for shotgun- Dick won- the three of them headed out. Dick asked a few questions on the way, but Jason got quieter and quieter the longer they drove. Once he stopped answering, Tim leaned forward.

“Are we going to the Diamond District?”

Dick looked to Jason, who jerked a nod.

“Shopping.”

“For what?”

Jason flushed red as a tomato.

“Engagement ring.”

Tim slapped a hand over Dick’s mouth before he could let out an excited squeal.

~~~

Jason led them to the first jewelry store on the strip, hands in his pockets and looking as nonchalant as he could, still a little heat in his cheeks from his confession in the car.

The chipper store clerk greeted them without batting an eye at Tim’s attire.

“How can I help you today?”

With a smile that he didn’t feel, Jason answered.

“Yes- I’m looking for engagement rings. Do you have anything with blue or green stones?”

The clerk ducked her head in a nod.

“Of course, sir. What size were you needing? We might have the right size in stock for take-home today, or we can resize and you can pick your choice up later!”

Jason knew this next part would be awkward, but with Dick and Tim hovering behind him, he had the courage to pull out the small box in his pocket, and then open it to reveal an onion ring crisp.

“About this size.”

He watched as the clerk visibly struggled to keep from laughing as she took the box from him.

“Let me- ahem. Let me measure that for you, then.”

“Do that.”

Without turning, Jason elbowed Dick, who was snickering quietly behind him. Tim had the grace to at least turn away.

“Shut up. It was the only way I could figure it out without him being suspicious.”

“I didn’t say anything, Jaybird!”

“You thought it real hard.”

~~~

This was surreal. Tim wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but by the third high-end jewelry store they went to (and no robberies yet!), he figured this was a prank of some kind. Surely Jason didn’t have to pull out the onion loop at every store?

By the glint in Jason’s eye leaving the first store, yes. He did. For fun.

Tim needed more coffee.

Finally, after six stores (how were there so many jewelry stores in Gotham?) and three hours (how were none of the stores robbed in a three hour span?), they found a ring that Jason approved of.

Tim had liked most of the rings they saw, but apparently this one was the one. It was a beautiful ring- a coffin cut blue sandstone framed tastefully by diamonds on a twisting silver band.

It was also prohibitively expensive for anyone who wasn’t filthy rich.

He didn’t know why Jason had snickered when the clerk had described the gem as ‘coffin cut’, but then again, he was tired and wanted to go home.

Don’t get him wrong, Tim was overjoyed that Jason had deemed him worthy of joining in on this trip- it’s just… An excited, emotional Dick is an exhausting Dick.

Their big brother was practically bouncing out of his skin when they left the store, perfectly sized ring in hand.

“Can we go get lunch? Have you planned your proposal? Have you two talked about marriage yet? How do you think he’ll react?”

Jason shrugged, biting down on the onion loop with a satisfying crunch.

“No. Nein. Non. Positively, I hope.”

Dick pouted, and Tim steeled himself to resist the oncoming puppy-dog-eyes. Dick was unfairly good at them.

“C’mon, Jaybird, give us something?”

Jason scowled.

“I let you come get the ring with me. We’re going back to the manor to show Alfred.”

Tim couldn’t help but cut in.

“Not Bruce?”

After a short pause, Jason sighed.

“Maybe Bruce, if Dick stops annoying me.”

Dick mimed zipping his lips shut and then eating the key, which Tim thought was counterintuitive.

~~~

Bruce watched as his second son showed Cass and Duke the ring he’d purchased for Danny. He’d been shown, thankfully, and approved- of both the ring and the intended. Even if he didn’t he would still be happy for Jason.

Danny Nightingale would be a wonderful addition to the family, not just because of his physical resemblance to the rest of his adoptees. He was smart, quick-witted, and willing to stand up for both himself and the people he cared about.

Now, Bruce was a little wary that this was going so fast- the two had only been dating for a little over ten months, but if it made Jaylad happy, then so be it.

He would, however, insist on being the one to give his son away. Maybe he could convince Diana to officiate? Jason would like that. He had always idolized her, even when he was running around in the Robin suit.

Was Bruce jealous? No.

A little.

Jason had pulled out his phone to make a call.

“Hi Aunt Diana! I’m going to ask my boyfriend to marry me!”

Fine, yes. Bruce was wildly jealous. But he got it. Wonder Woman is cooler than Batman.

[thelarriefics]

TOP 10 DEVILINMYBRAIN FICS:

Tumblr: @thedevilinmybrain​

babydoll blues (111k)

Louis is a high profile, filthy rich label executive who has the world at his feet - a music god.. Harry is the sugar baby trying to make a name for himself singing in shady bars and hanging off the arm of Louis' biggest rival. What Louis wants, Louis gets. But what if the game gets too hot and hits a little too close to the heart?

the agony and the rapture (79k)

Louis thinks back to that first day, sitting in that pub with Harry, asking him about heaven. He hadn't thought much of it then, but maybe Harry's word choice had a heavy weight behind it. If Louis would see paradise when he got to heaven, what would Harry see? What is home like for him? It must be something else with the way Harry is always cowering around, fearful of the above.

“Do you think we’re worth it?” Louis asks, glancing over at Harry. “Humans? Worth all the drama?”

“Of course, you’re worth it.” Harry doesn’t pull his gaze away from the window, staring at the rendering of the angel again. It really is in his likeness. “I wouldn’t be here if I thought you weren’t.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” Louis’ tone goes soft, so very sincere. “Glad you were assigned to me.”

into that goodnight (62k)

Once upon a time, there was a boy. But not just any sort of boy. This was a clever boy, the cleverest of them all.

and i would search the night sky to find you (56k)

Harry Styles is a high class, well-bred Omega attending Bosworth Academy - a prestigious boarding school looking over the small town on Kinsey. He has his whole life already planned for him, learning his place as the potential mate for an important Alpha, practicing his home making skills, and be obedient above all else.

When he attends a school trip into town though, he meets Louis Tomlinson - a blacksmith and mouthy Alpha who doesn't particularly care for the standards of high society nor for the people in it. But things are not always what they seem and a past grievance may change the lives of everyone involved forever.

secrets don't make friends (30k)

5 times Louis' crew knew too much, and the 1 time they thought they knew, but didn't really. Not at all.

you're shooting stars from the barrel of your eyes (20k)

5 times Louis was gross hot and 1 time Harry was.

i'm a captain on a jealous sea (15k)

It’s not that Louis doesn’t like Nick. He is, if he’s being honest, kind of indifferent. Louis gets that Nick is just doing his job most of the time, being loud and prying, not having boundaries. But it’s just a little too much for Louis’ taste. Louis, who has learned over the years, when to be loud and when to know that coy is the game. But, it doesn’t matter really. He’s not required to like everyone, doesn’t have to make nice with them outside of having a camera shoved in his face. He can let Nick be Nick and it shouldn’t affect Louis at all.

Except.

What Louis actually has a problem with is the way Nick Grimshaw looks at Harry.

stop the world ('cause i wanna get off with you) (12k)

Five times Louis and Harry get walked in on at the worst time, and one time Louis makes sure they don't.

to be a better man (9k)

“I can tell how much of a good boy you think he is.” Leon’s snarl doesn’t change, the corner of his mouth lifting higher. “But he’s still calling me, not you, hm?”

“Watch your mouth.” Louis is about done with this conversation. Who the fuck talks about their own boyfriend like this? “Or are you accusing me of something?”

“Just giving you an out, lad. Like Harry would even look at you. He’s too busy crawling up my ass to notice anyone else.” Leon snarls, rolling his eyes in a dismissive shake of his head. “But if you’re so concerned, go see what he wants. Make him happy enough to leave me alone, eh? Since you’re so worried.”

I don't know if I could ever go without (5k)

Sunshine is pouring in through the bedroom window, hazy with early morning and the bitterness that is a December London. It hasn't snowed yet but there is rain in the forecast, dark clouds probably rolling in from the coast later tonight. No one will think to bother them, too caught up in their own quarantine, their own lives. It's the first time in a long time that Louis doesn't have to worry about their phones ringing or someone coming to knock on their door or flight itineraries. Right now, it's all soft and warm, sliding over white sheets and the mess of brown curls next to him.

[be-steddie-myheart]

steve helps eddie quit smoking (just tobacco cigarettes but the weed)

i wish i had a friend like steve to help me quit smoking lol

“You know those are horrible for you, Eds.” Steve said pointedly, watching as Eddie lit another cigarette.

“I’m aware Harrington, but they’re just so good.” Eddie flashed him a dazzling smile, and Steve tried not to think about why that had made his heart clench and beat faster. They were laying on the roof of Eddie’s newly gifted, government hush-hush trailer, staring at the stars. The moonlight shining on Eddies face made had Steve staring for longer than he knew he should. Probably something to explore later.

“Seriously, Eddie, you should quit. I can help you. I used to smoke but I realized it was just stinky and I could never breathe.”

“I wont go down without a fight, Steve. You can pry these cigarettes out of my cold dead hands.” Eddie laughed.

“Thats what your hands are gonna be if you dont quit.” Steve glared at Eddie. Eddie put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Okay okay. Do your worst.”

~~~~

“Don’t you think I know how bad this is?” Eddie stared at the three different pamphlets Steve had handed him a couple days after their conversation on the roof. “None of these facts are gonna scare me.”

“You haven’t even read the information, Ed.”

“Don’t have to, I’m aware of it sweetheart.” Steves stomach fluttered at the nickname and he could feel a blush creeping up onto his neck. Again, something to focus on later.

~~~~

Steve was so sure he had the perfect idea to get Eddie to quit this time. He had printed out pictures of what smokers lungs look like. No way Eddie would want to continue after seeing how awful these images are. He knocked on Eddies door. He could hear footsteps and then the doorknob rattling. The door opened and Steve had to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. Eddie stood before him with no shirt on, hair pulled back into a low bun and in a pair of old grey sweatpants that were hanging low on his hips. Steve could see the band of his boxers, and the trail of hair that started under his naval and traveled all the way down….

“What a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie asked, unaware of the effect he was having on Steve. Steve wasnt even sure what kind of effect it was, but he packed it away for later. His Eddie box was going to burst at the seams if he didnt examine it soon. Steve cleared his throat and shook his head.

“These are your lungs, Munson.” Steve handed over the pictures.

“How did you get these pictures of my lungs exactly, Harrington?” Eddie teased.

Steve felt the blush creeping up his neck again, “you know what i mean ass, this is what the smoking is doing to your lungs. See how black they are? Thats not healthy.”

“Its pretty metal. Blackened lungs? Good song name. Maybe I’ll start writing it and dedicate it to you.” Eddie laid his head against the doorframe and smiled at Steve. Steve packed more things away. Too many things.

“You’re impossible.” Steve rolled his eyes.

~~~~

Steve and Eddie were laying on his roof again, looking up at the stars when Eddie reached into his pocket and got his cigarettes and a lighter out. Steve snatched it out his hand before he could put it in his mouth.

“Give that back, Harrington.” Eddie honest to god giggled.

“No! These are not good for you, have a sucker instead.” Steve reached into his own pocket and pulled out a small sucker. “I have plenty of them, they should help in case you need something in your mouth or something to do with your hands.”

“Something in my mouth would probably help with the cravings.” Eddie winked at Steve. Alarm bells were going off in his head and he was packing, packing, packing more stuff away in his little box. Steves entire body felt hot. Almost on autopilot he gave Eddie both the cigarette and the sucker back. His voice was not working.

~~~~

“What if for every day you didnt smoke, you got a reward or something? Like, a dollar, or a guitar pick, or something?” Steve asked Eddie. They were sharing a joint on Steves bed.

“How come I can smoke weed but not cigarettes?” Eddie asked, ignoring Steve entirely.

“Well, cigarettes cause cancer. And weed is just, ya know, weed. Its not bad for you.” Steve supplied.

“Mm,” Eddie hummed in response, “a reward you said?”

“Yeah like something to look forward to so you dont get the urge to smoke. Whatever you want, I can do it for you if you try to quit smoking.”

“How about every day that I don’t smoke, you give me a nice little kiss for a job well done?” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows. Steves entire body froze.

“Uh, well.. wait, are you sure? serious? Um, that could.. I guess if you were serious about.. That would be a helpful reward.” Steve stumbled out and Eddie laughed.

“Relax big boy, you don’t have to kiss me. I was just teasing.”

Everything was quiet for a little bit. Steve and Eddie laying next to each other, passing a joint back and forth in silence. Steve’s Eddie box was threatening to burst open. Maybe now would be a good time to unpack. Theres no time like the present or whatever the fuck they say. Steve thought to himself.

“What, uh, Eddie, whats it like? Kissing a boy?” Steve didnt know if this was going to go good or bad. But he had opened the box and now there was no closing it.

“Well, my only kiss for a girl was when I was 12 years old and trying to make myself like girls so I dont have much experience there to compare. I’d think it would be pretty similar. Except you know, girls are probably smooth whereas boys can have stubbly cheeks. It can kind of tickle.” Eddie responded, seeming unsure of where this conversation was going.

“Yeah, girls have smooth cheeks.” Steve responded, leaving a feeling of uncertainty in the air.

“Stevie,” Eddie started out slowly, “Are you asking because you’re just curious for curiosity sake, or…”

Steve decided to just go for it, he surged forward and smashed his lips against Eddie’s, no thinking allowed, only actions. Eddies cheek was a little stubbly, and Steve liked it. Steves entire body lit up and he felt like he could fly, he didn’t know how long to keep his lips on Eddie’s but if he got a choice it would be never.

A small gasp of surprise came out of Eddie when their lips first touched but then his hand went to the base of Steves neck. After what seemed like forever, Steve pulled away.

“Sorry if you didnt want that, but you made the joke about kissing as a reward and honestly Eddie ive been wondering for a while now what it would be like to kiss you and I just didnt think I could wait any longer, and you know its probably because of the weed, you can go-“ Steve was rambling and Eddie cut him off with another kiss to the lips.

“I’ll never smoke another cigarette again if thats my reward.” Eddie said lowly, his voice smooth and pooling at the bottom of Steves stomach. Steve thinks maybe kissing a guy might be better than kissing a girl.

“If you stop smoking you can have all the kisses you want.”

[yanderes-galore]

Could I request rise Donnie with the prompts, 17 and 26?

Just some casual (not forced at all) bonding with Donatello :) My prompts were used. Aged up as usual.

Yandere! ROTTMNT Donatello Prompts 17 + 26

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

"You look so cute in those clothes! I think I picked well...."

"Look! We're bonding, just the two of us!"

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Manipulation, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Forced companionship, Isolation, Forced dress up, Handcuffs.

Donatello wanted to try a new attempt at hanging out. You usually do things like video games to pass the time. Donatello wanted to do something a little... different.

"Cosplay! Different than usual, I know... but April convinced me it would bring us closer!"

You guessed he never admitted kidnapping you to April?

You refused to go against his wishes and instead tolerated Donatello's new attempt at gaining your attention. He splayed outfits that he and April picked out in front of you and examined them closely. You were more interested in the cuff around your leg than the suits and dresses....

"Alright... how about this one?"

You allowed him to force you into outfit after outfit. He cooes at you each time as if you're some sort of doll. You let him as you don't have much of a choice in the matter.

"You look so cute in those clothes! I think I picked well...."

Donatello mumbles to himself before picking an outfit for himself to wear. You recall him dressing up with his brothers before. You just had no idea he was this into it.

Despite what he may think, cosplay was not going to fix his mistakes. No matter how much he tried to pry you from your shell of a mind, he was not going to make you like him again. Those days were over.

They were dead once he put that cuff on you like a prisoner.

You saw how happy you made Donatello. You just wished he didn't lose it. Despite his intelligence, he isn't okay up there in the mental stability area.

Donatello had freaked out when you tried to go home one night due to having a vacation coming up and locked you in the lair...

You still aren't sure why he did it.

"Look! We're bonding, just the two of us!"

His smile is bright and his eyes are gleaming. You make him ecstatic even if it's his delusional thoughts taking hold. To him... you aren't cuffed and a prisoner to his whims.

You're just hanging out with him like always!

Even when you jingle the cuff against the floor, he pretends not to hear. He's too busy picking out an outfit to match you while you, most likely, play video games and eat pizza. You sigh....

This is your life now, isn't it?

"Once we have a good outfit... we'll spend some time with the others! Just for a little bit on the surface until we're tired. It'll be just like how it was before!"

He pauses for a moment, glaring at the wall.

"Y'know... before you said you were leaving town for a few months without me-"

"... I need my space, Don-"

He stops glaring at the wall to give you a forced smile.

"Why do you insist on defending yourself? It's clear what you planned to do! What if I never saw you again...."

"You know I'd never..."

"Maybe not..."

He sighs, sitting beside you on the floor.

"But you never know."

He tsks, looking at the two outfits you were wearing before uncuffing your leg in favor of cuffing his and your wrist together.

"It's better safe than sorry, really. Plus... now we can hang out all the time! Without having to use my tech to watch you...."

He whispers the last bit before hoisting you up with him.

"Well! Looks like we're ready for the day. Let's go!"

The mutant clings to your arm and drags you with him. The scene would've looked normal if not for your scared expression...

Along with the cuffs between you two...

A poor imitation of faux fate linking you two together.

[owlespresso]

scourge's blessing geto suguru

tags: !reader, foreplay, geto just really likes being in between ur thighs

“Sometimes, I wonder where I would be without you.” Suguru remarks idly, a faraway look in his eyes. There’s a fond smile on his lips, perfect jaw cradled by the fat of his palm. 

“I don’t think I did much. And what about Satoru?” you look at him blearily, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. Hazy sunset sunlight slinks in through the barely open blinds, casting him in vivid oranges and pinks. You watch him slide off the bed, hand running down the sheets parallel to your prone form. 

“I’m mad at him, right now.” Geto dismisses with a put-out expression, a tic of exasperation tightening his jaw before it flattens out, settles before you can pry further. “And no, that’s not why you’re here. It troubles me,” he says. He wraps his long fingers around your ankle, lifts it to press a kiss on the inside. “—how little credit you give yourself.”

“I’m here—” He grabs your calves and pulls you, effortlessly, to the end of the bed. Your thighs hang off the mattress. He kneels, slots himself between them with the sinewy elegance of a slithering serpent. “Because I want to be here. With you.” A shudder rolls down your spine as he teases your inner thighs with his fingertips. Light, careful touches which slide down to your knees. His big hand cups around the back of the joint, lifting the left over one of his broad shoulders. The sheer breadth of him always manages to surprise you, so well hidden under his baggy clothes.

The watery sunlight filters in through your pale curtains, casting his long hair with a dull sheen. His eyes are bright in the dim of the room.

“You don’t have to do that.” you assure him with a sigh, eyelids dipping slow as syrupy heat pools in your core. Your body betrays you, wetness gathering between your thighs as he presses his thumb up against the gusset of your panties. He stares at you like you’re a marvel, a sight to be known, memorized. “Maybe we could—”

“No.” he cuts you off, wearing an indulgent smile.

“No?” you say, unable to keep the incredulity out of your voice. You don’t know whether to be offended or amused at his audacity. Somewhere between both you reckon. 

“No. This is where proper worship should be done.”

He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, sacred and worshipful, a benediction.

[xxsycamore]

𝘏𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘖𝘧 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘦. . . GILBERT X GN!READER

►"Hey Gilbert, today is about doing things for each other, right? Is there something you want from me?"

Gilbert x Gender Neutral Reader • rating: G • wordcount: 986 • tags: fluff; holding hands; dates; Valentine's Day • masterlist

a/n: Happy Valentine's day! This fic was meant to happen waaay earlier, but where I am it only snowed properly like last week, which was the needed boost for finishing this. Now it gets to be a Valentine's Day fic! Prompts used are "I said that I'd teach you how to ice skate, I didn't say that I know how to ice skate." (#6, fluff list, 'Tis the Season of Love by me and @voltage-vixen ) and "Are those hearts in your eyes that I'm seeing?" (#9, Be My Valentine CCC 2.0 by me and @chaosangel767).

I really just want to see Gilbert having fun in the snow. Hope you enjoy ❤

The temperatures dropped drastically the night before your date with Gilbert.

The soft crunching of snow under your feet is surprisingly welcomed today, and the weather is not cruel enough to take from your excitement.

Gilbert hums an unfamiliar tune as he walks by your side, your hands separated by two thick layers of glove but clasped together all the same. The way his fingers would be freezing to the touch when without a glove to protect them from the cold, you can't demand for feeling his skin on yours. Not because it's not pleasant, no, you just want him to be as warm as possible, at least while under your watch.

The carriage is far behind your backs now, and even if Gilbert took something with him upon your departure, you still suspect this might turn out to be just a nice walk, after all. And if that's the case, then surely a nice walk it is - hills upon hills of snow-covered evergreens outstretch in the distance, and you feel tiny where you stand, alone with Gilbert. The way he always carries himself in tar black from head to toe, you'll never lose sight of him even if you were to let go of his hand. Not that you have such intentions.

Tiny snowflakes fall from the sky, so tiny that they remind you of specks of dust dancing in an ancient library. The sky is bright too; a second more and the snowflakes will completely cease to fall, maybe even the sun would peek behind a cloud to see where your mysterious date leads to. You're just as curious. And as Gilbert remains unusually quiet still, you're closer and closer to begging him to spoil the surprise.

You are too concentrated on the man by your side and his adorable little swinging of your joined hands, to notice the change of scenery.

"I didn't know there was a lake here. I haven't explored much, haha…"

"The books were more interesting?" Gilbert tilts his head, giving your hand a soft squeeze. Without waiting for a reply, he lets go and takes a step ahead on his own, at the very edge of the frozen lake. His cane comes in contact with the glassy surface, and Gilbert gives it a good tap or two, as if testing its thickness. "This should be fine."

You're puzzled and with a couple of questions on the tip of your tongue, none of which matter when you're with Gilbert. You're sure you'll see in due time, as you're not left hanging along with the invisible question marks in the air for long. You skip your way to the nearby log that Gilbert pointed towards, hurrying to join his side.

He has you seated down on the log. The bag he's been carrying since earlier is introduced in the scene again and this time you get to see the contents. It's ice skates.

"Oh- Oh, I can totally put them on on my own-"

You find your leg gripped tightly by Gilbert's now ungloved hands, not giving you the chance to pry it from his grasp if you wanted to.

"Now, won't you be a good bunny and sit still while I spare you the effort? I thought today we're meant to do things for each other."

Ah. It's Valentine's Day, after all. You can't deny that. And he's already doing so much…

Getting onto the ice with him is more fun that it is stressful, you discover. You share that you have no experience with this, and he gives you that sweet smile. Promises to teach you all you need to know.

You think you must have some kind of influence on him in that moment, because his movements are just as wobbly as yours. He laughs it off; strengthens his grip on you wherever his hands fall on your body. You're determined and try to watch your feet more than his pretty face, it's hard but you do. You're looking forward to be praised for maintaining balance.

"Gilbert…? Are you sure you know how to do this?"

"I said that I'd teach you how to ice skate, I didn't say that I know how to ice skate."

You've had a handful of chances already to realize this, yet you denied until hearing it from his mouth. It shouldn't surprise you that much, but it does, and it shouldn’t throw you off-balance when you've never actually relied on him for balance, but it does.

How you both get off the ice without failing is beyond you. If Gilbert wasn't laughing merrily right now, you wouldn't be either.

"Hey Gilbert, today is about doing things for each other, right? Is there something you want from me?"

Gilbert's laughter fades to a smirk holding the aftertaste of it, but more sinister somehow. The way he grips your chin lacks the familiar cool feeling of his naked fingers, but you can imagine it just fine. You wonder just when you fell inlove with the feeling of his cold fingers.

"Are those hearts in your eyes that I'm seeing? Very well… We're all alone here. I wonder what I should do with you, little bunny."

You desperately want him to take something from you, in exchange for the mess of emotions he put inside you. It's not fair, he should feel loved too.

"I think we have time to learn. It was fun, and now I want to take you to skate on top of every lake Rhodolite has to offer. We need to be quick, or the spring will arrive."

You nod enthusiastically, recalling how well you kept your balance earlier, even if for a couple of seconds at best. But he doesn't let go of your chin at that.

"As for now… You can help me discover what our snow angel would look like, if we are on top of each other!"

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[fruit-salad-ship]

Mafia au really does creep in when I’m painting (decorating house) and honestly? I can’t wait to write the point those girls realise that they’re actually madly in love.

It starts as a fling, just fun, peach is so painfully aware that someone like plum won’t hang around that town for long. It’s no place to find fame, and that’s plums goal. So peach just resigns herself to the thought that while it’s strange someone so prim and proper is paying attention to her, perhaps this singer is simply getting her fix of the rougher sort, perhaps she just was trying out a partner who’s a little meaner visually, a little more dubious morally. Unsure of the specifics, it didn’t matter. The pair continue to see each other, days out, nights in, trips to towns over and stays in hotels that all seem so enjoyable.

And then the truth bomb drops. It’s been a while, perhaps a year or so of them just always being together. They thought they’d get sick of it but they just haven’t, and sure they’ve argued, they’ve had disagreements, it never seems to keep them apart for more than a few hours.

Plum gets in a conversation at the bar, no one knows she’s dating peach, the very person who owns the establishment, they’ve kept this very quiet to avoid prejudice. But someone asks the singer if she’s seeing someone, a longing patreon perhaps rising to the opportunity of talking to her after her set. And plum without thought says yes, she’s very much in love with someone, is taken, is happy. This disappoints the men around her, but peach is pouring a pint for someone, and overhears this. Looks over, just watching her. Plum is none the wiser that she’s been heard, she’s busy enjoying the night. Peach’s pint overflows, she wasn’t looking at what she was doing, lost count of the seconds it takes for that amount of liquid to fill a glass, the distraction too great, grey laughs at her clumsiness, unaware what was just said.

All night peach is completely pulled from work, and before long the last two in the bar are her and Plum, the habitual process of staying late to hang out after cleaning up, and so peach can walk her home safely, they can chat and catch up. But boss is quiet, plum notices it. Asks her whats up, but she’s being cagey, invites her into her apartment, coaxed in by the bad weather and the offer of a hot drink. Peach can’t say no, hasn’t been able to for a long time now.

It comes up, peach mentions she overheard the whole “love” thing, kind of a strong word. This big woman is still convinced plums going to find her fame and leave, and rightly so! She’s talented, peach wants her to chase her dreams and be happy, she knows she has no right to stop her and has been resisting the urge to just follow when plum finally goes, too dedicated and tangled up in the family business to be able to do that. But god she’s tempted.

Plum hears her, hears the expectations of her leaving, hears the open mind to her getting where she needs to go, even hears the undertone of support at every turn, she sees peach is just kind of pushing down the fact that she’s expecting abandonment. That her big tough boss is dare she say it, sulking a little because she’s expecting the worst.

Plum catches peach off with a laugh, puts her hand on the big woman’s thigh and tells her things change. Maybe she use to dream of being some star on the stage, maybe she wanted to live somewhere else, maybe she didn’t expect any of this. But the truth is she’s changed, she wants to stay somewhere she’s loved and respected, in the company of someone she truly has come to adore, way more than anyone else.

They get to talk about some deep seated truths, and while it takes some time to pry that from peach, all plum has to do is ask, say please with those big brown eyes, and she caves. The realisation that they’re both hopelessly devoted to each other, and the worst part that peach hasn’t fully showed her the nature of her work, that this is so desperately what she wants but also she’d be lying if she went into this. But who could say no to plum? She’s just holding her hand like it’s anchoring her to the ground, so peach has to decide: let her in on… the bloody truth, that her and her family have killed many and will continue to do so. OR continue to keep a secret. A big, horrible, difficult secret. Peach can’t do it to her, and swears to figure out a way to tell the truth before things get too serious. Plum will surely leave her when she finds out; but at least she didn’t continue to lie.

The focus point is that they both love each other a lot, now it’s just a case of making this work, or accepting peach will be alone as soon as the truth it out.

Peach is frightened.

Plum is overjoyed.

[coffee-writesthings]

First kiss, a little drabble because I was feeling inspired by hozier's "Like Real People Do"

Cross-faction btw!

A rough day on the battlefield, with shared deaths on either side. Both RED and BLU were struggling to gain any real ground in what looked like it was going to definitely become a stalemate. Capture points were one of the worst sorts of things, in Dell's opinion-- having to move around all the time turned into so much work.

If he had to guess, it must have been similar for the other team's Spy. Though maybe, maybe that snake liked having something more to do. More things to sap, more places to go, more ways to catch someone off-guard.

It was thinking about things like this which caused death, after death, after death for him. This time though, he wasn't killed immediately. Instead, under the guise of invisibility-- definitely a cloak and dagger, rather than one of the other invis-watches, he held a knife just by his pulsing neck. The cold metal of his Big Earner could've felt like a peaceful respite from the heat, had it not been joined by a dark chuckle.

Unfortunately for Spy's attempt at intimidation, he'd had just about enough of this for one day. He clenched his jaw, breathing slowly so that he could say what he was about to, without making a fool out of himself.

"Aren't you tired?"

The knife's hold on him faltered. "Of what, exactly?"

"Killing people, running 'round without letting people see you, all of it."

"I could ask you the same question, laborer."

"Would you though? We're pitted against each other every day, in every way. How are we s'posed to care?"

"We… aren't."

"Then why do I find myself thinking about you. Why does your rat face fill my dreams? Why can't I get you out of my head?"

"You care about me?" he scoffed, taking the knife away from his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the shimmer of overused invisibility.

Actions were always something that came before words for Engineer. It was something passed down to him from the earliest age when he lived in Bee Cave, and something he'd keep living by until the day he really died. In a swift motion, he pulled out his destruction PDA, getting rid of his sentry. To hell with the objective.

"This is my gun," he displayed the plain weapon, notably not crackling for bloodshed. "it's not the Frontier Justice-- I'm not gonna kill you with a couple of bullets. Take it if you don't believe me."

"You can keep it. I don't need a shotgun." He clicked a button on his watch, revealing himself to the prying eyes of the other. "Why? Why would you leave yourself entirely prone?"

"There's just somethin' I need to get outta my head. Would you kiss me?"

"Would, or could?" His face was neutral, if a little curious. He didn't seem entirely against the idea.

"Please. Just once, to get it out of my system."

"And if I find that I like it?"

"That'd be one hell of a surprise."

He took a step forward, checking around for cameras-- or a pesky teammate who would interrupt them. "To hell with it." he ripped off his balaclava, revealing his face, and his hair. It was damp with sweat, but still managed to hang about just so, in a way that framed his face.

For moments, he found himself unable to figure out whether he was supposed to look away. In his train of thought he managed to forget how to breath, and how to look away. He kicked himself inside for it.

"You want this?" he confirmed with Spy.

He nodded with a little smirk. "You're getting very good at making a man feel safe, Mr. Conagher."

"Please, call me Dell."

"Okay then, Dell. Come here then. If I'm competing with your dreams, I should use my whole arsenal, no?"

A nervous laugh escaped him as he stepped forward to the other. An arm wrapped around to the small of his back, bringing him even closer-- their torsos pressed together, something neither party minded in the slightest. "Is this a good time to mention that I've never done this before?"

"Truly?"

"Yeah. Not like I could really get out anywhere, always had things to build, stuff I was workin' on."

"I'll make sure to set a high bar then."

He leaned his head forward and down, inviting for him to meet him in the middle-- something he had to go up on his tiptoes for. The hand holding him there was gently supportive, just present, as if he could fall otherwise. And sure, he might've, but not in the literal way.

His lips were so warm, so soft. The hand not on his lower back traveled to the back of his neck. He felt himself melt into the embrace, noticing just how pleasant the sandalwoody, cinnamon scent of his cologne was.

When the kiss broke, he buried his face into the other's shoulder to continue enjoying that smell.

"Good?"

"Yeah, yes. I- I really don't know how that could've gone better."

"I have a few ideas. Maybe we can discuss them over a glass of wine, sometime?"

"I'd like that." he nodded his head rapidly.

With that, Spy stuffed himself back into his mask and disappeared into thin air. "It's a date, mon cher."