#or just let things happen on their own time

[prael]

Day 5: Comfort

Newjeans Hanni x male reader smut

words: 9,650 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

Spotting a face in a crowd is like watching lightning. There's a moment that captivates you and then it disappears. You're not even sure where to look for it. It happens in an instant, but when that instant is over, you're not sure if it ever really happened at all.

That is life with Hanni.

She might well be sitting here now, on your couch, with her knees pressed against her chest and a mug of hot cocoa in her hands, but in another moment she will be gone and you will be alone again. The warmth of her body will linger on the cushions beside you. You will press your hand into it, but it will fade. And then there will only be her image in your mind and the memory of her voice.

She is always so busy, and you are always waiting.

"I need a break," she says, and this time, her voice is not in the past, but in the present.

You blink, pulled from your thoughts, and look up at her. She's watching you, her dark eyes soft. She's smiling. You don't know how long you've been staring into space. "Sorry," you say, "what?"

Hanni laughs softly, reaching out and taking your hand. Her skin is soft, unblemished, and her nails manicured. Her fingers are slim and dainty, but there's a surprising strength in them. "I said I need a break," she says, and then she squeezes your hand. "So let's go somewhere."

You don't have to think about it. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," Hanni says, and her smile grows wider. "Anywhere."

Anywhere.

-

The thing about the coast, the beach, the sea, is that it really goes well with sunshine and especially poorly with the winter. There is something about the ocean and the beach in the winter that is a bit depressing, and yet at the same time, that makes it feel more comfortable, more like you can imagine it as your own. You can walk on the beach without the crowds of summer. The waves are high, the water is cold, the sand is wet and hard, and the wind is sharp and biting, but there's a sense of adventure to it.

"It just doesn't seem to end," Hanni is explaining as you walk side-by-side, wrapped in padded coats and gloves, with thick hats and boots, "It just never seems to stop. It just keeps going. It's the same thing every single day. I wake up. I go to work. I do what I'm supposed to do. I go home. I sleep. I do it again the next day."

You nod, though you can't even pretend to understand it.

"Do you want to know what the worst part is?" she asks.

You nod again. "Of course," you say.

"The worst part is that I'm not even unhappy," Hanni says, looking at you with a smile that bears mixed emotions, "I love it. I just want something more."

"I think that's normal," you say. "It's like how when you finish a book, or a movie, or a TV series, you're sad that it's over, but you're happy that you finished it, and then you start thinking about what to watch next, or what to read next. It's like that."

You wonder if that makes sense.

Hanni nods slowly, and thoughtfully, as though she's taking the time to consider your words. "Yeah," she agrees, and then she laughs, "but sometimes I don't know if I want to finish the book. Sometimes I just want to skip to the end, so I can see what happens, you know?"

You don't. Maybe it's because life is much simpler outside of the spotlight. You don't have to wonder what happens next. What happens next is the same as what always happens. Work. Salary. Bills. Responsibility. It's the same thing, over and over again.

Actually, the only days you get to break the mould, are the days that Hanni is there with you. That is what happens next.

You don't tell her that. You don't think she would be all that impressed with your answer, given what she had said. So you don't say anything at all.

-

Vacationing in temperatures nearing freezing is hard, and the later it gets, the harder it becomes. Yet, the sky is so clear that the stars shine like a million little diamonds, and the moon hangs low and fat in the sky, casting a pale silver light over everything. In that, there's unmatched beauty. On this rooftop cafe, you can almost see the universe in full.

It took a little convincing for the owner downstairs to even open the roof. He called you a few variations of insane for not wanting to cosy up inside the warmth of the cafe. But you, and Hanni, are nothing if not determined. So here you are, on the roof, on the balcony, looking at the sky, at the stars, and the moon. It's a beautiful night, and there's no better place to be on earth.

"I like this," Hanni says, leaning into your side. "You're always good at coming up with ideas."

"I don't know if this is really an idea," you say with a laugh. "It's just sitting on a roof."

"Yeah, but that's the best part. It's just sitting on a roof." Hanni looks at you, her dark eyes glittering in the moonlight. "It's not fancy. It's not expensive. It's just us, on a roof."

"Okay, that's a fair point," you say, and then you laugh again.

You look out over the city, at the twinkling lights, at the stars, at the moon. You take a deep breath of cool air and let it fill your lungs.

"Hey," Hanni says, "I have a question."

You glance back at her. "Shoot."

"Why are we friends?" she asks.

"Wow, deep question," you joke, trying to lighten the mood, but Hanni doesn't laugh. "Um," you say, "Well, I mean, we grew up together, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but we're not kids anymore," she says. "We're adults now. We have lives. Jobs. Responsibilities. I'm an idol and I disappear for months on end. And when I come back, I always just drop in on you and expect you to be there for me, and you are. Every time. Why is that?"

"I don't know," you admit. "I guess I just... I just like you. I always have."

"You don't get sick of me?"

You shrug. "Sometimes, when you do that thing where you hum real loud, I want to strangle you."

It brings about a shared laugh. That right there; if you capture that moment and bottle it, you would present it to her as the reason. Because no matter how long she's gone, and no matter what happens, when she's here and you are laughing together, it feels like home. You don't need to be anywhere or do anything in particular. It's enough just to be.

Hanni shuffles closer, leaning further into your side. "You're my best friend, you know that?"

You nod, your heart swelling. "Yeah," you say, your voice quiet, "I know."

-

You've always been a sucker for romance, but you also recognise that the real world doesn't work that way. Romance is the domain of fiction, of books, of movies, of the stage, of the screen. In the real world, things are messy and complicated and sometimes they don't work out. And that's okay. It's not a tragedy. It's not the end of the world. It's just the way things are.

It's why you can spend time with a girl who's beautiful and talented and smart and funny, without getting caught up in the fantasy that she's going to fall in love with you and sweep you off your feet and carry you into the sunset, or whatever. You've seen enough romantic comedies to know how those stories go, and you know how they end. In the real world, the best you can hope for is friendship, and even that is something to be grateful for. Especially when it's Hanni.

"Which book is that?" Hanni asks as she steps out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and followed by a plume of steam. Her hair hangs wet and heavy around her shoulders, dripping onto the floor. The hotel room is nice, but it's nothing too fancy. You're sure Hanni is used to better.

You look at her for a moment, then close the book in your lap. It's in these pages, that those romance stories play out, or so you tell yourself. "It's nothing," you say. "Just some trashy novel."

She sits on the edge of the bed, her eyes on you. "Is it any good?" she asks. You're not sure if she's interested or just making conversation, but you answer anyway.

"I mean, it's not great literature or anything," you say, "but it's entertaining enough."

"I wouldn't have taken you for the type of person to read romance. I remember you being obsessed with... um... Who was that one author? Michael Connely? It was all detectives and crime."

"Guilty pleasure, I guess."

"What's it about?" Hanni asks. "The book."

You glance down at the cover, which shows a young woman in a flowing dress standing on a cliff, overlooking the sea. The title is in a fancy script, and the author's name is printed beneath it. You shrug. "It's about a girl who's an artist, and she meets this guy, and they have this whirlwind romance."

"And then they get married and have kids and live happily ever after?"

You laugh softly. "No, not quite," you say. "They have a lot of sex, but then they fight all the time and it's messy and dramatic."

"Then what?"

"I don't know, I haven't finished it yet."

"I bet they get back together," she says. "That's always how these things end, right? They have a big fight and then they get back together and it's all sunshine and rainbows."

"I don't know," you say. "Maybe. Probably. It's fiction."

Hanni laughs, shaking her head. "You're so cynical."

"I'm not cynical," you protest. "I'm just realistic."

"Right, right, of course." She stands, moving to the bag of clothes at the foot of the bed, and begins to rummage through it. She pulls out a pair of shorts and a top. "I'm going to get dressed," she says, and then she disappears into the bathroom again, closing the door behind her.

When she emerges, she's wearing a pair of tight black shorts that hug her hips and a white tank top that clings to her curves. Her hair is still damp, and it falls around her shoulders in dark waves. She looks good, and you can't help but admire her. She's beautiful.

You can tell she's aware of the attention, but she ignores it, instead flopping onto the bed beside you and letting out a sigh. "What are we going to do tomorrow?" she asks.

"I was thinking we could just drive up the coast," you suggest. "Maybe stop off in some of the little towns along the way, and see if there's anything interesting."

"Sounds good," she says, and then she rolls onto her side, her head propped up on her hand, looking at you. "You know, you're the first person I thought of when I said I needed a break."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't know why, but I just knew that if I could get away with anyone, it would be you."

"Thanks," you say. You're not sure how to respond to that, but it makes you feel warm inside. "I'm glad I could help."

-

The small towns are wholly uninteresting, but Hanni seems to find something to enjoy in every one of them. There is something about seeing the world through her eyes that makes even the most mundane things seem magical. A little store selling handmade trinkets and cheap souvenirs becomes a treasure trove of hidden gems. An old man playing guitar in the park becomes a musician worth listening to. An old, crumbling building becomes a palace of mystery and intrigue. The world comes alive when Hanni is around, and you can't help but be swept up in it.

You're on the last leg now, and you agreed to drive her home. It's late in the afternoon, the sun is low in the sky, and the horizon is a watercolour painting of pinks, oranges, and purples. It's a beautiful sight, and it makes you think of the painting that Hanni bought earlier. You're not sure what she saw in it, but she seemed to love it, and that's all that matters. She's asleep beside you, her head resting against the window, her breathing slow and steady. She's exhausted, and you don't blame her. She's been going non-stop for the past few days, and you're glad that she finally has a chance to rest.

You pull up outside her place and gently shake her awake. She stirs and blinks up at you, her eyes still heavy with sleep, and she smiles. "Hey," she murmurs, and her voice is soft and husky.

"Hey," you say. "We're here. You're home."

Hanni sits up, rubbing her eyes and stretching. "Already?" she asks. "I didn't mean to sleep the whole way."

"It's okay," you assure her. "Part of taking a break is getting some rest."

She nods, but she doesn't look happy. "I know, but I feel like I missed out on something." She looks at you. "Thank you for driving me home. I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass."

"It's okay," you assure her. "You're always a pain in the ass. I'm used to it by now."

She laughs, but there's a tinge of sadness to it. "Yeah," she says, and then she glances away. Her voice is soft and hesitant. "Are you going to come inside?"

"I can help you with your bag."

"I was thinking more than just that." Her eyes meet yours. "Stay for a bit. I don't want to say goodbye just yet."

"I don't want to intrude," you tell her, knowing that there are four other girls in her place and it's their place as much as it is Hanni's. "Besides, it's getting late."

She reaches over and takes your hand, holding it tightly. "Please."

"Okay," you say, and you can't help but smile at her. "I'll stay for a bit."

It's the first time you've seen the inside of this place, but it's a lot nicer than your little apartment. It's spacious and modern, with a large kitchen and a living room that opens onto a balcony with a view of the city. It's the sort of place you would never be able to afford, but Hanni seems to fit in here perfectly.

There's a girl sprawled out on the couch, eyes closed, earbuds in her ears. You recognize her, from posters and interviews and magazine covers, and music videos. Her name is Minji, and she's got long, dark hair that falls in waves down her back. She's tall and pretty, with a slim build and a face that's both elegant and expressive. She looks like a model, but she's also an idol, a singer, and a dancer. It's a little intimidating.

"Better not wake her," Hanni says. "She gets cranky when she's tired."

You nod. "Right."

"Come on, let's go to my room. We can talk there."

You follow her down a hallway and into a bedroom that's big and bright, with a view of the city. It's tastefully decorated, with a bed that's bigger than yours, a dresser that's bigger than yours, and a desk that's bigger than yours. Everything is bigger here, and you can't help but feel a little out of place.

"I like it in here," you say. "It's nice."

"Thanks," she says, dropping a bag in the corner and you follow her by placing the two you were carrying.

There's a faint sound coming through the wall. Music that you can't quite make out, but it sounds upbeat and peppy. You can hear the bass thumping, and the occasional high-pitched voice singing along.

"That's Dani," Hanni says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "She's always playing music. It drives Minji nuts."

You laugh, leaning against the dresser. "It's kind of cute."

"Yeah, it is. She's a sweetheart." Hanni leans back on her hands, looking at you. "I can't believe this is the first time you've seen where I live."

"It's a nice place," you say. "I'm sure you're comfortable here."

"It's not bad." She shrugs. "It's not really mine, though. I mean, it is, but it's also not. You know what I mean?"

You don't, but you nod anyway.

Hanni sighs, running a hand through her hair. "You should visit more," Hanni says while taking off her jacket, reducing her clothing back down to just that tight white tank top now that she's back in the warmth of her room.

You can't help but look at her, admiring the way her body moves, the way her skin glows in the light. You can't help but want to touch her, to feel her warmth. "I don't know," you say. "I would be kind of out of place."

"You wouldn't be," she says, and her voice is firm. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," you say, and it's true. You miss her all the time, even when she's right here in front of you. You miss her smile, her laugh, her scent.

She looks up at you, her eyes wide and searching. "Do you think about me when I'm gone?" she asks.

"Of course," you say, and you can't help but smile. "All the time."

She smiles, and it's like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Good." She stands, walking over to you, and you can smell her shampoo, her perfume, her skin. She reaches out, touching your face, running her fingers over your cheek. "I'm glad," she whispers, and then she leans in and presses her lips to yours.

It's a gentle kiss, soft and sweet, and it lingers for a moment before she pulls away. You're frozen in this moment, unable to think, unable to speak, unable to breathe. You're not sure what just happened, or why it happened, or what it means, or what you should do next.

"I'm sorry," she says, stepping back. "I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay," you say, and it is. It truly is. You don't know why, but it is. You want to kiss her again, to hold her close, to feel her warmth.

"I just... I don't know," she says. "I've been thinking about it for a while, and I just... I don't know."

"It's okay," you say again, and you reach out and take her hand, holding it tight. You look into her eyes. "I'm glad you did."

She looks up at you, and her eyes are wide and searching. "Really?"

"Really." You squeeze her hand. "I'm glad."

"Good," she whispers, and then she leans in again and kisses you. This time, you kiss her back. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her close, holding her tight. You can feel her heart beating against your chest, and it's a steady, reassuring rhythm. She tastes of strawberry lip gloss and you can't get enough of it.

You've known Hanni for years, and you've been friends for years, and you've been best friends for years. But it's never been like this. It's never been this close, this intimate, this real. You've never been able to touch her like this, to kiss her like this, to hold her like this. And it feels amazing.

You're not sure how long you stand there, kissing, holding each other, but eventually you break apart and look at each other, smiling.

"What are we doing?" she asks, her voice low and husky.

"I don't know," you admit. "But I like it."

"Me too." She smiles, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Can I tell you something? It's been on my mind for two days now."

You nod, and she takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I've been thinking about you a lot lately," she says. "A lot. I mean, I've always thought about you, but now it's different. Now it's like I can't stop thinking about you. Well, I can, but not for long."

She's stumbling over her words, and you can't help but find it cute. You reach up and brush a strand of hair out of her face, and she smiles at you.

"I don't know what it means," she says. "I'm not sure if I want it to mean anything. I'm not sure if I'm ready for it to mean anything. I'm not sure if I'm even ready to think about what it might mean." She laughs, and it's a nervous laugh, and you can tell she's struggling to find the right words. "I guess I'm just saying that I'm not sure what I want, but I know that I want to be with you. And I'm not sure if that makes any sense, but it's how I feel."

"It makes perfect sense," you say, and you mean it. You know exactly what she means. You've felt the same way.

"I'm scared," she says. "This feeling is new. It's exciting. But it's scary, too. I'm not sure what to do. I don't want to ruin our friendship. But at the same time, I want more. I want to be with you. And I don't know how to do that."

"It's okay," you tell her. "We'll figure it out together."

She smiles, and it's a shy smile, but it's genuine. "So you're not going to run away?" she asks.

"No," you say. "No, I'm not."

"Good," she says. "Because I don't think I could handle that."

You laugh, and she laughs with you, and it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the tension between you start to ease, and you relax into each other, holding each other close. You kiss her again, and this time it's a little less hesitant, a little less unsure. You kiss her, and you let yourself fall into her, and you let yourself forget about everything else, and you let yourself just enjoy the moment. You kiss her, and you feel her arms wrap around you, and you feel her body press against yours, and you feel her warmth, and her softness, and her strength. You kiss her, and you feel your heart race, and you feel your blood rush, and you feel your skin flush, and you feel your head spin.

And when you finally break away, breathless and dizzy, she's looking at you with a mixture of wonder and desire and something else that you can't quite put your finger on. But it's a good look. It's a look that makes you feel happy, and excited, and scared, and alive.

"So what now?" you ask.

"I don't know," she says. "I've never done this before."

"Neither have I," you admit.

"Well, uh..." she trails off, looking away. "I guess we can just keep doing what we're doing, but like, over there." She points to her bed, and you can't help but chuckle.

"I like that idea," you say, before pulling off your jacket.

"Woah, what are you—?"

"It's just my jacket, I'm not..."

You both laugh and Hanni does that thing where she covers her face with her palms and shakes her head.

"Okay, I'm an idiot," she says, before throwing herself backwards onto her bed.

You approach her, but you're still nervous. You place a knee on the bed, move closer to her, and lean over her. She looks up at you, and her eyes are wide and bright, and full of emotion. You lean down and kiss her, and this time, there's no hesitation, no fear, no doubt. This time, it's a kiss of passion.

You sink into her as the kiss deepens, and you feel her hands on your back, pulling you closer, pressing you against her. You feel her tongue slide against yours, and then you taste her mouth, and it's a taste that you want more of. You taste her, and you smell her, and you feel her.

All you can do is what comes naturally, so next you're moving your hand from the bed and onto her hip, and slowly moving it along her waist, sliding it under her top. Her body tenses slightly as the palm of your hand touches her soft, warm skin.

"Are you okay?" you ask between kisses.

"Yes," she says, and the look in her eyes tells you the same. "Don't stop."

So you don't. You keep kissing her, touching her and exploring her. Your hand moves up her side, feeling the curve of her waist, and the rise of her ribcage. You brush the edge of her bra and hesitate, but then her hand reaches for yours and guides it under the fabric. You feel her breast against your palm, soft and warm and firm, and you feel her nipple, hard and erect, and you feel her tremble beneath you.

"You're beautiful," you whisper to her.

She blushes and smiles before you slip your tongue against hers again.

You never allowed yourself to appreciate Hanni for her beauty. It's not like you were blind to it. It's just that you didn't let yourself see it. Maybe deep down you knew that if you did, you wouldn't be able to look at her as just a friend anymore. So you suppressed that part of yourself. But now, with her lying here beneath you, you can't help but appreciate not only how pretty she is, but just how hot her body is, especially as your hands explore her. She's toned, but soft, and you can't get enough of her.

Her own hands are busy, too. They're running up and down your back, and then they're slipping under your shirt, and you can feel her nails scratching lightly against your skin.

"Can we take off our tops?" she asks suddenly, breaking the kiss. The question is kind of awkward, you both feel this, there's this shared twinge of embarrassment that you can sense in each other. It's not romantic, it's not sexy, it's just a bit silly.

"Sure," you say, and you sit up and pull your shirt over your head. You look down at her and suddenly feel so exposed, even if she is the one in tight shorts and her legs on either side of your hips, you're the one that's topless.

Hanni sits up too, and pulls her top off, revealing her light blue bra. She's moving a little erratic as she reaches behind her back, so much so that she fumbles the clasp twice before unfastening it. She lets the straps slide down her arms and throws it aside, quickly crossing her arms over her chest. Her face is a deep red.

She's embarrassed. You've never seen her like this before. You've seen her nervous, shy, even scared, but never embarrassed. And it's adorable. You're sitting just a few inches from each other, yet she's still looking down and to the side.

"Hey," you whisper, and then she looks at you. "You're beautiful."

She smiles and uncrosses her arms, and your eyes move down from her face to her breasts. You've seen her in a bra, but not like this. Never this close, never bare, never with the intention of touching them.

So, you do. You place your hand on one of her tits, and then she's leaning into you and you're kissing again. She fits so perfectly into your hand, and you can't resist gently massaging it. Instinct takes over. You're not thinking anymore, you're just doing what feels right. So you break the kiss and move your head down to her other breast. You start kissing around her nipple, and then you take it in your mouth, and you hear her moan. It's a sound that sends shivers down your spine, and then she's tangling her fingers in your hair, pressing your face into her chest.

You spend some time like this, alternating between her two breasts, licking, sucking, and nibbling on her nipples. It's a little clumsy, and you don't really know what you're doing, so you just follow what her soft little moans tell you. You love the feel of her tits against your face, the taste of her skin, the sound of her breathing.

And then she's pulling you back up and kissing you, and you're lost in the sensation of her lips on yours, her tongue on yours, her body against yours. You can feel her heart beating, and it's beating fast.

"You're so hot," you whisper, and she smiles and blushes.

"So are you," she says, and then she's pushing you down onto the bed, rolling on top of you. She kisses you again, and then she's kissing your neck, your collarbone, your chest. She's kissing her way down your body, and you're not sure what to do, so you just lie there and let her explore. You become more aware of your own body, and the sensation of her wet kisses against your skin. You become more aware of the discomfort between your legs. It's only now, in this moment of respite from kissing her lips and her tits, that you realise she must have felt it. The whole time. Since you started kissing her, and you laid yourself against her. She must have felt the bulge in your pants pressing against her crotch. You're mortified. You can't even look at her, you just stare up at the ceiling with an embarrassed smile on your face.

"Hey," she whispers, and you look down at her. She's kneeling between your legs, looking up at you. Her eyes are wide and bright, and she has a big goofy grin on her face. She looks so cute. "Did I do this?"

She's not looking at you. You follow her gaze down to the bulge in your pants.

"Uhhh..." you're not sure what to say. "Yes. Probably. I think so. I'm sorry."

She giggles, a mischievous grin forming on her lips. "It's okay," she says. "It's nice. I, uh, I like it."

You laugh nervously, and she laughs with you, and then she's unbuttoning your pants, and you're not sure what's happening. You feel like you should say something, but you can't think of anything, so you just lie there and let her do it. You lift your hips so she can pull down your jeans and underwear in one motion. Although you can't bring yourself to look down, the feeling of being exposed is overwhelming. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling as if it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"I've never done this before," she says. "I mean, I've seen one before. On TV, or in a movie, or something. But I've never... I don't really know what to do."

"It's okay," you say, your voice shaky, and you almost don't recognise it. "You don't have to—" Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her fingers touch you.

"I want to," she whispers, and then she's gripping your shaft in her hand, and you can feel her fingers wrapping around it.

You're hard, and she's touching you, and it feels incredible. It feels incredible and wrong and exciting and scary and confusing and perfect and you can't think straight.

"Is this okay?" she asks, and her voice is soft and hesitant.

"Yes," you reply, and you can't keep the desire out of your voice.

She starts to stroke you slowly, and you can feel her fingers moving up and down your length, and it feels so good. Her touch is so delicate, so gentle, so loving, so careful, and you can't get enough of it.

You can't help but look down at her now. She's staring at you with a mixture of fascination and desire, and you can see the way her eyes move as she takes in every inch of you. That's Hanni, right there, and you can't believe that she's doing this to you.

"I've never seen one this close before," she whispers, and then she's leaning in, and you feel her breath on you. "I didn't realise it would be so warm. Or that it would feel so... alive."

She's still holding you, and you're still looking at her, and then she's looking up at you, and your eyes meet. Her expression is a mix of curiosity and lust. It's an expression that sends a shiver down your spine.

She kisses the tip. It's a gentle kiss, and it sends a jolt of pleasure through you. She looks up at you again, and there's a smile on her lips.

"Do you like that?"

"Yes," you breathe, and you're surprised by the huskiness in your voice.

"Good." She kisses you again, and then she's running her tongue over the tip. "It tastes funny," Hanni laughs gently and smiles. "I don't know if I like it yet, but I think I do."

She licks you again, and then she's kissing you, and then she's licking you, and then suddenly she's doing both. Her lips part in one of her kisses and she takes the head into her mouth so her tongue can work uninterrupted. She's licking around the head, and then she's taking you deeper, and you can feel her tongue exploring your shaft. It's incredible. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before. You've seen this before, on screen, or in magazines, or whatever, but nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of having her mouth around you.

"Oh god," you groan. "Hanni..."

It's all encouragement for her. A signal to her unsure mind that yes, this is exactly what you want and it feels as good as anything that you could have imagined. You're already sensitive, so every little movement of her tongue sends a shockwave of pleasure through you. You can't keep your eyes off her, watching her lips slide down your shaft, her tongue flicking at the head, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks you, her eyes looking up at you, checking that what she's doing is right.

She's breathing heavily from her nose, and the hot hair is kissing your skin. You can't believe you're seeing her like this, that this is the girl you grew up with.

"Hanni..."

She doesn't respond. She's too focused on the task at hand, on making you feel good. And she's doing a good job of it. A very good job of it.

"Hanni..."

Her eyes flick up to meet yours, and she stops moving her head. "Is something wrong?" she asks, her voice muffled by your cock. She pulls her head back, letting you slip out of her mouth, and a string of saliva connects the tip to her lower lip.

"No, no, no," you say quickly, "nothing's wrong. I just... I don't think I'm going to last much longer." You're embarrassed. You've never been in a situation like this before, and you're not sure what to expect, or what you're supposed to do. But you know that you're close to cumming, and you don't want to do it in her mouth.

"That's okay, just don't let the other girls hear us," she says, and then she's smiling at you, and then she's taking you in her mouth again, and then she's moving her head up and down, and then you're watching her cheeks hollow as she sucks you. Tongue running patterns over the underside of your length, you can't take much more.

"Oh god, Hanni, I'm going to—"

She doesn't stop. She doesn't slow down. She doesn't even flinch. She just keeps going, and you can't hold back any longer. You can feel the orgasm building inside you, and you can't stop it, and you don't want to, and you're not sure if you should, and you're not sure what to do, and—

You cum, and it's the most intense orgasm of your life. You can't help but cry out in pleasure, and you feel your hips buck involuntarily, and you feel her tongue continue to lap at the head as your cum spills out of her mouth. She doesn't pull back, she doesn't stop, she doesn't do anything to stop you from cumming in her mouth, she just keeps going, and you can feel her swallowing some of it. Some pools on your skin.

"Oh god," you say, and your voice is a whimper, and you're still trembling with pleasure.

Hanni pulls away and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks up at you, and there's a mischievous grin on her face.

"Wow," she says, and then she's giggling. "I wasn't expecting that!"

"Are you okay?" you ask, and your voice is shaky.

"I'm good." She smiles and crawls up so she can rest her head on your shoulder, half draping her body over yours, your bare skin touching. She kisses your neck, her breath tickles your skin. You put an arm around her, holding her close. "I didn't know that would be so fun. Can I do it again?"

"Not right now," you say through strained breath. "Maybe later."

"Okay." She's looking up at you, and she has that same goofy grin on her face. "Was that okay? I've never done it before."

"It was more than okay," you say, and you can hear the awe in your own voice. "That was incredible."

"Really?" She sounds pleased with herself. "I wasn't sure what I was doing."

"It was perfect," you say, and then you kiss her forehead, and then you kiss her lips, and then you're lost in the sensation of her body pressed against yours. You can't believe that you're here, that you're doing this, that you're with her.

"I'm glad," she murmurs, and then she's looking at you again. "So, what now?"

"Can I try?" you ask. "With you, I mean. Can I... use my mouth on you?"

"You don't have to," she says quickly, but then her voice trails off. She seems unsure.

"I want to," you say. "If you want me to."

Her smile is wide and her eyes are bright. "I do," she says. She kisses you on the lips, and then she's rolling onto her back.

You lean over her, and your hands are shaking, and your heart is racing, and you're not sure what to do, or where to start, or if you're going to be any good at this, but you want to try. You want to make her feel as good as she made you feel. You want to taste her, to explore her with your tongue, to learn what makes her moan, what makes her gasp, what makes her squirm. You want to make her feel as good as you do.

So you start where you began earlier, at her chest, and you spend some time just appreciating them. Kissing them. Running your tongue over her nipples. Squeezing. Massaging. Listening to her breathing change.

"I love these," you mutter. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful."

Hanni doesn't respond with much more than a pleasured hum, but she doesn't need to. You can tell she's enjoying this, enjoying the attention. And it's a good thing too, because you have no intention of stopping. Not until she tells you to, at least. You keep kissing and licking and sucking her nipples, and you can feel her arching her back, pressing herself into your mouth, and you can hear her breath growing heavier, and her heart races.

Hanni gives a deep, full-bodied moan, the loudest she has so far. You take it as a signal to descend, and you trail kisses over her stomach, which makes her giggle and squirm. You feel the heat radiating off her body. Her scent is strong—intoxicatingly so.

When you reach the waistband of her tight black shorts, you pause for a moment, and then you hook your fingers under the elastic and pull them down. You're not even sure what to expect underneath, but whatever you had in your mind, the reality is so much better. Her black panties are lacy, and they hug her body perfectly, accentuating every curve, every dip, every contour. They're so sexy, so beautiful, that you can't help but stare. Your mouth hangs open and you can feel your dick stirring back to life already. You can't believe that you're here, that you're seeing her like this.

You take time to admire her. Her thighs and her hips and the delicate apex underneath the wet panties. Then you look up her body, taking in the way her wide hips give way to the curve of her waist, the way her breasts rise and fall with each breath, the way her hair frames her face, the way her eyes shine in the dim light, and they stare at you, accompanying her smile.

"What are you thinking?" she asks, and her voice is barely a whisper. "I know that face. You always have that look on your face when you're thinking about something."

"You're the most beautiful girl in the world," you say, and you mean it, and you're not sure why you've never told her before.

Her smile widens and she laughs, covering her face. "You're so cheesy," she says, but you can tell that she likes it, that she appreciates it, that she loves it.

"Can't help it," you say, and then you lean down and kiss her stomach again, the muscles tense under your lips, and her breath catches. You kiss your way down to the edge of her panties, and then you pause.

"Is this okay?" you ask, and you're not sure why, but you feel like you need her permission, even having come this far.

"More than okay," she replies, and her voice is soft and breathy, and full of desire.

You smile, and then you kiss the edge of her panties again, and then you start to pull them down. You can feel the fabric stick to her skin as you peel them off her body, revealing her pussy. The sight of it takes your breath away, and you can't help but stare. It's beautiful, of course, but it's also more than that. It's Hanni. It's the most intimate part of her body, the most vulnerable, the most sensitive, the most private, and it's right there in front of you, and she's permitting you to touch it, to taste it, to explore it. She trusts you.

You place your palms on her thighs and spread her legs. You move your head between them and you plant the most delicate of kisses on her wet skin. Her body twitches. Another kiss, and another, and another, and you can feel her legs tremble. You can feel her body tense.

"You're so wet," you say, and you can't keep the awe out of your voice. You can feel her juices on your lips, and you lick them off, tasting her for the first time. It's sweet yet musky, and it's a taste that you want more of. You lick her now, a few tentative ones over her lips and then one from bottom to top, ending at her clit. She reacts more to that last one. So that's the spot, then. You repeat that pattern a few times.

"Oh god, that feels so good," Hanni moans, her head tilting back and her eyes closing.

"I can do better," you whisper, and then you focus on the peak of your previous licks, pushing your tongue between her lips where she's most sensitive. Hanni gasps, her hips bucking involuntarily, and her thighs tense, her hands gripping the bedsheets, and she's so responsive, so sensitive, so receptive to your touch, that you can't help but smile. You keep licking, flicking your tongue over her clit, teasing it, circling it, and you can feel her thighs tremble, her hips rock, and her breathing grows heavier and heavier.

"Oh, oh, oh," she murmurs, and her voice is a whimper, and it's so cute, and so sexy, that you can't help but moan into her pussy, the vibrations sending shivers through her body, and she whimpers again.

Now it's your turn to lock your lips against her, enclosing around her sensitive nub. You suckle on her clit, running your tongue over it, and she's rocking her hips against every movement of your tongue. It's the sexiest thing you've ever heard. All the gasps, whimpers, and moans. You could listen to it all day.

In a moment of realisation, you worry if the others can hear it. If they're in their own rooms, then probably not, but you know that at least one of them is asleep in the living room. Your head is buried in your best friend's pussy. What if someone knocks on her door? How would you explain this? What if—

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Hanni cries and her voice is louder than before, and you can hear the desperation in her tone, and you can feel her body tensing, her back arching, and her hands gripping the sheets tighter and tighter. "Don't stop, don't stop," she moans.

Her thighs clasp around your head and all your worries about being caught are washed away with a new fear. You're trapped between her thighs. Your head is being crushed by the muscles you were just admiring. You're going to die here, between her legs. It's a pretty good way to go, though, so you accept it. At least you got to eat her out.

But then, as suddenly as it came, the pressure is released. Her legs go limp, and her body sags, and her breathing slows, and her hands relax, and she's lying there, panting, and trembling, and whimpering.

"Holy shit," she whispers, and her voice is hoarse, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride. You made her cum. You made her cum hard. "That was amazing," she whines. "I didn't know it would feel that good."

You smile, and you kiss her pussy, and then her inner thigh, and then the crease of her hip, and then you move up her body, kissing her stomach, and her breasts, and her neck, and finally you reach her lips. You kiss her, and she kisses you back, and then you're both laughing, giggling, and smiling, and holding each other close.

"That was incredible," she says, and her voice is soft and breathy, and she's looking up at you with wide, sparkling eyes. She kisses you again, and then you're lost in the sensation of her body pressed against yours.

"I didn't know it would be that good," you admit. "I thought it would be nice, but not like that."

"Me neither," she whispers, and she's looking at you with a mixture of awe and adoration. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You smile, and you kiss her again, and then you're both lying there, holding each other, basking in the afterglow.

"So," she says, after a few moments. "I don't want this to be over. I want to keep feeling like this."

"What do you mean?"

She smiles, and her eyes are full of mischief. "You know what I mean."

"Are you sure?" you ask, and you can't keep the excitement out of your voice.

"Yes," she whispers, and her voice is soft and breathy, and full of desire. "I've been thinking about it for a while. There's, uh, things in the top drawer."

"Things?"

"Just open it, dummy," she laughs, and you do. Inside, there's a sealed pack of condoms. You pick it up, and you can feel your heart racing, and you can feel the blood rushing to your cock, and you can feel the excitement building inside you. You turn back to her, and she's looking at you with a mixture of love and lust. Her eyes are full of anticipation, and she's biting her lip.

"You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?" you ask, and you can't help but grin. "You've had these just waiting here?"

She blushes and looks away, but then she looks back at you and smiles shyly. "Maybe."

You take one out and kneel back on the bed, between Hanni's spread legs. You know what to do. Simple. But the way that Hanni is looking at you, with a mixture of anticipation and excitement, is making it difficult to focus, and your hands are shaking.

You manage it, though. You roll the condom down your shaft and look at her. Her smile is wide and bright, and you can't help but smile back. She reaches for you and pulls you down on top of her.

"I can't believe we're doing this," you say.

"Me neither," she giggles, and then you're kissing again, and it's a hungry kiss, full of passion and desire. You feel her hand move between you and take hold of your cock, and you feel her guide it to her entrance, and then you're both pressing forward. The kisses are replaced by shared gasps, and your forehead comes to rest against hers. She's so warm, so wet, and so tight, that you have to pause for a moment, just to catch your breath, and she does the same, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Are you okay?"

She nods quickly and then tells you, "Keep going."

So you do. You push forward, slowly, carefully, and she takes you, inch by inch, until you're fully inside her, and you're both breathing heavily, and you're both trembling, and you're both holding onto each other, and it feels incredible.

"Wow," she whispers, and her voice is a whimper, and you can't help but smile.

"Yeah," you breathe, and you're smiling too, and then you're both sharing a laugh. "Doesn't it hurt? I thought it was supposed to—"

"A little, but don't worry," she tells you. "I'll let you know if it gets too much. Just... take it slow, okay?"

"Okay," you say, and then you start to move, slowly, and carefully, and her body responds to every movement, every thrust, every inch. Her hips rock against yours, and her hands grip your back, and her nails dig into your skin, and her lips press against your neck. She's so unbelievably tight.

"Hanni," you whisper, and your voice is a low growl, and you can't help but groan as you feel her muscles clench around your cock.

"Don't stop," she whines, and her voice is a needy whimper, her body is pressing against yours, and her legs are wrapping around your hips, pulling you closer, keeping you deep inside of her.

You pick up speed, but not too fast. You don't want this to end, you never want this to end, but you can't help yourself. It feels so good. It feels so right. It feels perfect. It feels like everything you've ever wanted.

"Oh god," you groan, and you plant your hand against her—half on her thigh, half on her ass. You grasp her soft flesh as you try to bury yourself deeper. Her body tenses in response. She likes it. "You're amazing."

"Mmm... more..." she moans, and you can't help but smile.

You start to thrust harder, faster, and her hips start to rock against yours, and you're both lost in the sensation. Breathless whimpers are broken by raw moans, which you try to stifle with kisses so no one can hear you, and then you're both lost in the rhythm, the back and forth, the ebb and flow. You're both in sync, both moving together, and it's the most beautiful thing in the world. You can feel the pressure building inside you, and you can feel her body tensing, and her breathing quickening, and you're both so close.

Hanni brings her hands to your head, running her fingers into your hair and pulling your ear to her mouth. She lets out a moan right into it, before telling you, "Take it off." You're not sure it's a good idea, but she's insistent. "I want to feel you. All of you. Please. Take it off."

"Hanni... I don't think—"

You're cut off by her moving her hands to your shoulders and pushing you onto your back. Hanni leans over you and looks down at your throbbing cock. "Let's do it properly." She reaches down and rolls the rubber off your shaft, leaving it bare. Your stomach clenches in a mix of excitement and fear. She throws the condom aside and then she climbs on top of you, straddling your waist, and her pussy hovers above your cock.

"Hanni, we shouldn't—" you start, but she cuts you off again. She takes hold of your shaft and rubs the tip of your cock along her wet folds. Her juices coat your cock. Her warm pussy teases the tip. Your eyes roll back in your head.

"It's okay," she whispers, and then she pushes your tip inside her, and she gasps, and you moan, and then she's sinking onto you, and you're sliding up inside her, and you're both breathing heavily, and you're both moaning, and you're both lost in the sensation.

"Oh god," you moan, and you can't help but grab her hips and pull her down, and you can't help but thrust up into her. You're bare. You're inside her, skin-to-skin, and it's the most incredible thing you've ever felt. The way she rocks her hips drives you insane. She's so warm, so wet, and so tight, that you're not sure how long you can last.

"Don't cum," she whispers, and her voice is a needy whimper, and she's looking down at you with wide, pleading eyes. "Not yet."

"I'm not sure I can—"

"You have to," she says, and she's looking down at you with desperate eyes, and you can't help but nod. "Please," she says, and she's grinding her hips against you, and she's riding you, and she's fucking herself with your cock, and she's moaning, and whimpering, and gasping, and you're both lost in the sensation.

"I'm close," you warn her. "I can't—"

"Wait for me," she whines, and you can feel her body start to tense, and you can feel her walls clench around your cock, and you can feel her start to tremble. "I'm—"

With a loud moan, her body tenses and cuts her words off. Her pussy clenches, and her hands grip your chest, nails digging into your skin, and her eyes squeeze shut. Her whole body quivers as her orgasm washes over her, and you can't help but thrust up into her, pushing yourself as deep as you can go. She cries out in pleasure, and you feel a heat in the pit of your stomach.

You thought nothing would be as intense as when you burst into Hanni's mouth, yet just half an hour later, you realise that was nothing compared to this. The rush is so powerful, so overwhelming, that it almost knocks the wind out of you. You can't breathe, you can't think, and you can't stop the flood of cum that's filling her. You can feel it, and she can feel it, and it's so hot, and so thick, and so wet, that you can't help but groan.

Pulsing and throbbing inside her, Hanni keeps riding you, her hips rolling, her thighs trembling and her cute little tits bouncing. Your cum spills out of her, and the mess is pooling beneath you both. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You can't help but smile as you watch her. She's so perfect, so beautiful, and you're inside her—the reason she's cumming.

She collapses on top of you, her head on your shoulder, and her body limp. She's breathing heavily, and you're both covered in a sheen of sweat. You wrap your arms around her and hold her close, and she does the same, her fingers running through your hair, and she's kissing your neck, and your cheek, and your lips. You kiss her back, and it's a soft, gentle kiss, full of love, affection, and gratitude.

"I can't believe we just did that."

You can feel her smile against your skin. "I can't believe I let you cum in me," she giggles. "It felt so good, though." She lifts herself up and looks down at you, her smile wide and her eyes sparkling. "Did I do okay?"

"You were incredible," you say, and you mean it.

"Maybe next time we could—"

"Next time?" you ask, making sure you heard her right.

"Yes," she says, and her voice is soft and shy, and she's looking at you with a mixture of love and lust. "I want to do that again. And again. And again."

"Me too," you say, and you can't help but smile.

-

She's asleep. You're lying in her bed, watching her. She's so beautiful, and you can't stop looking at her. You can't stop thinking about her. About what you've done. You're not sure how you're going to get to sleep. She's snuggled up to you, her head resting on your shoulder, and her legs tangled with yours. Her breathing is slow and steady. She's peaceful, and you're so happy. You can't remember the last time you were this happy.

You can't remember the last time you felt so content. It's strange. It's like you've been living your life in a fog. You've been drifting, and you've been lost, and you've been searching for something, but Hanni has been right here. She was right in front of you, all along.

You just didn't realise it, until now.

[emitowrites]

Ok this is so true, but then my brain does the thing, and something completely different comes out. It’s not even a horse that I’m creating, it’s an entire herd…

I started writing a story called Everywhere, Everything exactly one month ago today, and I decided the other day to read it fully for the first time. And let me tell you… when I was writing it, I had no idea where it was going, but holy shit…

I’d had these two ideas, so imagine like two parts of the horse image above are detailed and glorious, and there isn’t even an idea of a horse in between them, just a blank space. I had these story bookends, but I didn’t even map out a vague idea of how to connect them, just started writing it. I barely even edited it before I posted the chapters. I let it flow out of me in, what, like, 4 days, and then moved on to the next thing.

I hadn’t read it back in the weeks since I posted it, and then I read it fully over the past few days and… the bits that I had thought were the beautiful, detailed parts of the story, those two initial ideas? They now read like they were actually only a first draft, like a kid had drawn a stick figure horse. It’s the rest of it that works. Somehow, I’d foreshadowed things I hadn’t even thought of yet. I’d hinted at things without realising it, but maybe I can only see that with hindsight and distance?

I loved writing it so much. I didn’t even eat or move (of my own volition) the entire time, just let it course out of me. My partner had to bring me food and remind me to go to the bathroom and sleep even! And I know that it’s not the best I could have done. It was rushed and spontaneous and uncontrollable and… I want to rewrite it all now, make those initial ideas fit better for the rest of the story, you know? They feel clunky and awkward, hurried and inelegant. Who knows, maybe I will rewrite it at some point… if my brain ever stops coming up with new ideas for me to explore.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say (but am instead dancing around and losing my way a bit, get it together Em!) is that sometimes you think you’re creating one thing, and then the ‘art’ actually happens and you’ve emerged with something else entirely. Sometimes your projection from the place you start is completely different from where you end up.

For me, the point of art is not the product or the idea itself, but the journey you go on to create it.

me as a writer

[official-cvntified-gay]

risky!wanda who without a doubt would grope your ass in public, especially during one of the church's meet. She would approach you with that sweet smile of her. Some might think that was just her friendly face but you knew better, that's the face when she's planning something. And that she did, add first it was just a polite hand on your back until her hand got further down your ass. She would give you light slaps, careful not to make noise for your own sake. Not hers, if she's not married she would smack your ass even in front of the whole church.

Oh, she'd give you a big bruising hickey on your neck during a get together in your church, after she fucked you on the bathroom. She's so smug about it, smirking as she watched you squirm under their gazes, trying so hard to hide that big mark with your hair. You got squirmy knowing people knew about your dirty business and they took noticed that your mark was definitely not there when you get to the event. So they knew that it's from someone in the church.

risky!wanda can't go long without touching you, during one dinner with your parents where they invited her in your home. You're next to her peacefully eating your dinner when you felt her hand on your thigh not thinking about it until it move higher and you're wearing a skirt, she took advantage of it and she's caressing and squeezing your inner thigh, next thing you know she's rubbing your clit against your lacy undies, while innocently conversing with your parents.

risky!wanda who knew what she's doing, so during dinner when you ask for something, "Mommy can you pass me that dish?" and and she without hesitation reach for the same plate at the same time with your mother, she knew what she did. Your mother looking at her in confusion and you wanted the ground to swallow you, you wanted to run right then. She saved it of course, "Oh, sorry. I was so used to the twins asking me at the dinner table" and your mother nodded in understanding but you knew she did it on purpose.

risky!wanda who definitely fucked you in the somewhere in the church. Church is a place of worship. And worship she did, with her on her knees, hands gripping your hips to keep your pussy firmly on her tongue. Your moans echoing the walls of the place as she eat you up like there's no tomorrow, she believed you rewarded her faith when you gave her your sweetness.

risky!wanda who invited you into their home and fucked you until her husband was pulling into their garage, she definitely have a kink of getting caught. She'd cage you with her arms when you tried to move away from her, fingerinng you faster until you're falling apart from her fingers. Wanda would definitely challenge you to come, "come before he asks for me, if you don't I won't make you come for a week" as her fingers keep curling to that sweet spot of yours. She'd coo as you come on her fingers, panting as she let you ride out your orgasm. You're too hazy to know what's happening, all of a sudden you're both dress and greeting Vision.

I CAN'T BYE-

[multi-fandom-imagine]

My little girl || Jason Todd ||

A/n: 6am, can't get girl dad Jason out of my head.

It was an accident, on how he found out. I mean it's not like he knew the little slip of paper had it written out.

A girl

Jason froze. The words on the paper hit him harder than he expected. A girl. He was having a daughter. His chest tightened, his throat felt dry, and before he could stop himself, tears welled up in his eyes. He quickly rubbed at them, embarrassed by his own reaction, but the realization overwhelmed him.

Sitting on the couch, his hand trembling as he slid the paper away he couldn't stop thinking.

A little girl. His little girl.

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. He thought of all the things he wanted to protect her from, all the ways he would be there for her the ways no one had been there for him when he was young. He thought about you, and how their daughter would undoubtedly inherit your warmth and strength. And for the first time in a long time, Jason let himself cry not out of anger or pain, but out of pure, unfiltered joy.

Jason had always been good at keeping secrets. It was practically part of his job description as Red Hood. But this? This was different. Knowing you two were having a girl was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and keeping it from you felt like torture.

While at home you had noticed something was off almost immediately. Jason was fidgety, overly attentive, and kept sneaking glances at your belly with a grin he couldn’t quite hide.

“What’s going on with you?” You asked one evening, narrowing your eyes as you caught him staring. “You’re acting weird.”

Jason froze mid-bite of his sandwich, quickly covering. “Weird? Me? Nah, I’m fine.”

You smirked, folding your arms. “Jason Peter Todd, I know you. Spill.”

He shook his head, standing abruptly. “I can’t! I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He practically fled to the kitchen, leaving you staring after him, your suspicions growing.

A few days later, Jason’s excitement finally got the better of him. They were lying in bed, you curled up against him as you two talked about baby names. Jason had been trying desperately to keep the secret, but when you mentioned the possibility of a boy, he couldn’t help himself.

“Okay, but what about girl names?” he blurted out, his tone too enthusiastic to ignore.

You tilted your head up to look at him, narrowing your eyes. “Why are you so focused on girl names all of a sudden?”

Jason froze, realizing his mistake. “Uh no reason? I mean, just you know, in case.”

You sat up, your smirk returning. “Jason. You know, don’t you?”

Jason groaned, running a hand down his face. “Damn it. I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait. Are we having a girl?”

Jason sighed, then smiled, his joy impossible to hide. “Yeah. We’re having a girl.”

Your hands flew to your mouth, tears springing to your eyes. “Jason why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he admitted, pulling you into his arms. “But I couldn’t help it. Y/n, we’re having a little girl. I’ve always wanted a daughter. I didn’t even think I’d get to have a family, let alone this.” His voice cracked slightly, as you kissed him softly.

“We’re so lucky,” you whispered, your own tears mingling with his. “She’s going to have the best dad in the world.”

Jason held you close, his hand resting protectively over your stomach. “And the best mom,” he said quietly. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she knows how much she’s loved.”

As you two sat there together, the secret finally out, Jason felt an overwhelming sense of peace. He was going to be a dad to a little girl, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly whole.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Dick, and Jason being given a hand-knitted scarf that's obviously done by his s/o who is an amateur as his Christmas present please?

Dick

He’s crying.

No seriously-

He adored the amateur scarf so much but has to keep it away from Hayley in fear that she’ll think it’s for her and be rough with it.

So he puts it on high shelves that his beloved dog can’t reach but he will check now and then to make sure it’s still there and not in Hayley’s mouth out of a weird need to make sure his dog isn’t preforming some death defying stunt just for a scarf.

Sorry- the scarf that you made specifically for him. It was a beautiful deep blue scarf with a few mistakes here and there but dick tested it as though it was one of a kind because it kinda was, at least to him as no one else could make a scarf like you as the mistake and such only add character to the piece of clothing.

It wasn’t perfect but that’s what dick loved the most about the scarf and it happened to be the best present he’s ever gotten from anyone.

‘I know it’s not the best but-‘

Dick is already shushing you as he burrows his head into the soft fabric and just sinking into it when he could smell you embedded in the scarf, relaxing him almost immediately. ‘This is the fucking best present I’ve ever gotten, the best.’ He said, voice muffled but you smiled as you watched him fiddle with the deep blue scarf gingerly, cradling not to his chest as though scared to depart from it.

‘Thank you.’ Dick tells you as he leans over to kiss you on the cheek. ‘I shall treasure it forever.’ He adds before throwing the scarf onto him and rushes to see how he looked in the nearby mirror.

That scarf never leaves that man. Ever.

Jason

Loves the love and effort that was put into the scarf.

He doesn’t care that you’re an amateur, he’s wearing the scarf to absolute death, even when it wasn’t exactly weather appropriate to wear.

He’s always preferred hand made stuff to begin with and the fact that you weren’t out of your way to make him something, despite that crochet/ knitting wasn’t exactly your strong suit, and took the time and energy into the hours it took you to make it for him.

‘It’s perfect sweetheart.’ Jason said when you gave him the ruby red scarf but you also managed to somehow stitch -somewhat sloppily- his favourite book quote into the inside of the scarf so that he could read it whenever he needed.

It was his favourite part of the scarf and you got multiple kisses to you face for that alone, then some extra more for the scarf itself because no one had put this much time, thought and effort into something just for him and only him.

Needless to say that was more then enough to get him a little in his emotions because he’s still in denial of having someone as sweet and thoughtful as you with him, so the scarf becomes something that he’s more then willing to go to war for should even a little bit get cut or snagged even by a little.

For it was the one thing he has of you that he can’t separate from even if he tried, he clings to everything you give him tightly and holds it close to his chest and will glare at anyone who dared tried to grab for it out of curiosity.

Even his own family weren’t allowed to touch his scarf nor know who gave it to him in the first place, he’s not about to let you be aware of them just yet, one day but that one day will be when pigs fucking fly and fish start walking onto land. He’s keeping you far from them as possible.

Anyway the ruby red scarf with the book quote sloppy stitched to its inside was his comfort item, and he’s going to hold it as though he was a dragon protecting its horde possessively. He’s got the whole ‘touch the scarf and you’ll be dying in an alleyway quicker than you might think’ mentality when it comes to the scarf you made him.

Hell if anyone says it’s shit, he’s going for the jugular. Nobody talks shit about your scarf in front of him, especially if they’ve never tried themselves like you have because want the fuck would they know about the effort you put into something you made for him.

In his eyes your scarf was pure gold in his eyes and he will contour to do so for a very long time.

[regthomas1728]

Bare with me, I’m gonna actually try writing…(written on my phone, sorry for mistakes)

***

Your humble sandwich shack was recently upgraded to a small hovel. You now do specialized drinks and sandwiches.

Of course, you also had to get better insurance when you moved into the rent to own two story building in the city.

Not just any insurance! You needed insurance to cover hero and villain damage. You live in the city that birthed the greatest heroes and deadliest villains. While the chance of being murdered is extremely low, the chances of losing a house or building due to the fights were incredibly high.

High enough, insurance companies decided to make a pretty penny on all the people of the city.

You owned a small business that was rapidly gaining popularity. To keep up with demand, you decided to capitalize on the idea of heroes and villains. You began catering to tourists and eventually became one of the reason people visited the big city.

You began naming items on your list after heroes. Sandwiches and drinks alike had catchy names such as “Spexpresso” in reference to the fastest hero and the fastest acting coffee any coffee addicts have had or the brisket sandwich called “Smoked Pixet” named after the fairy hero named Pixie.

You thought it was funny, some of the customers thought it was creative, but the real fun came in the drawn cartoons merging the heroes with their respective menu item.

You bought a couple tv’s to showcase any submitted art and attention for your sandwich joint grew.

It wasn’t until the second hero stopped in, in their hero getup, and ordered their sandwich that you realized you were at the top.

Hey! The first one might have been a fluke or an accident.

Maybe you fumbled over your words but everyone was star struck.

“Good sandwich, I’ll have to get Euro in to try the gyro.” The hero chuckled on his way out, taking another big bite of his sandwich.

The customers and you let out a big sigh—you hadn’t even realize you were holding your breath—and then the little caf filled with laughter. It didn’t die down for a week—your caf was expanding and it took so much out of you until you hired three more people. All three workers were college students and you hired them within two weeks of the second heroes visit.

A few months later, your menu had changed greatly as new heroes wanted a spot on the menu and heroes already on the menu wanted to change certain ingredients.

You catered to a fee and stood your ground with most. The heroes respected you more for that as did the customers. You still made their sandwiches the way they preferred when they came in.

It was crazy for you to think about. You knew the orders of some of the most popular heroes and they came at regular intervals to get their lunch or dinner.

Marketing heard about your setup and chose to setup times where heroes would take photos with fans. You were gaining publicity and hero agencies were jumping on the band wagon.

You politely declined interviews or let your employees sub in. You weren’t someone who liked to be on camera and even the smooth talking lava rock hero couldn’t make you budge.

He did enjoy the spicy sandwich you made in his honor.

After all the humbug settled, you found a steady rhythm. But, all good things must come to an end.

After closing shop at 10:00pm, you were on your way to the car when you heard a voice call out to you from across the lot.

You turned at the sound, startled and trying to remain calm. Just because murders didn’t happen often didn’t mean they never happened. You were desperate not to be in the three percent.

“Why haven’t you made sandwiches for villains?”

“What?”

“Villains eat to, ya know?”

Not that you hadn’t thought of it but you didn’t think it’s go over very well. Not with heroes frequenting your place.

“I’m not too sure that’s a good idea. I don’t need heroes and villains fighting at my restaurant. I have insurance but it could never be that good.”

The man stepped out of the shadows and you realized you just told the most wanted villain no.

“Work on those sandwiches and I’ll work on a compromise.”

“You sure? I could just make you a sandwich under the table…? You could stop out back and grab it to go?”

The villain, covered in shadows and red (was that blood?), shook his head and took a step back.

“No. Put our sandwiches on the menu after a weeks time.”

“It’ll take longer than that to establish a villains menu and a good advertising strategy.”

“Well…I’ll have the hero and villain compromise figured out by then. The timeline isn’t up to you. I look forward to your work.”

“You’re not going to kill me if you don’t like the sandwich, are you?”

With shadows covering his exit, all you heard was an evil laugh that reminded you despite his absurd request, he was still a villain who made up one or two percent of the kills in the city over the last ten years. Okay…maybe not that many but you knew it was a lot! You just didn’t know ALL the statistics regarding heroes and villains.

While a normal person may have brought the conversation up to one of the many visiting heroes or maybe called the police, you brought out your folder of dreams and got to work on sandwich ideas.

And sure, you told the shadow villain that it would take more than a week to get started on this idea but you may have lied. It would take no time to start the menu—no the real issue was convincing civilians and heroes to accept a few changes.

One of the changes would be making a seasonal menu. Which would not correlate with actual seasons but rather about keeping scores between favorites sandwiches and drinks.

The advertising took some time and planning, you only had a rough outline of what that would look like.

By the end of the week, you were positive you’d be getting another visit from the shadow villain but it wasn’t him who called out to you in a parking lot. It was the number one hero.

“Y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you and your sandwich shop.”

“But you haven’t tried anything? That’s a real shame.” You smiled, turning your key into the car and starting the heat. You sat in the seat with your hands in your pockets and the door open. The hero walked a bit closer but kept a respectable distance.

“I heard you got a visit a week ago from…a mutual acquaintance.”

You frowned, your brow crinkling.

“I think? I think I know who you’re talking about.”

“Do you get so many visits from villains?” There seemed to be genuine concern in the pull of his smile. “He’s requesting your restaurant be made neutral territory. No arrests, no fights.”

“Sounds like an ideal insurance policy.”

The hero grimaced but nodded.

“I’ve agreed. I’m sure it wont be much use but I’ll ask anyway. One, is he pressuring you?”

“Not really. I’ve had the idea in mind for a while.”

“I thought so. So, is there any chance you tell me who he is?”

“I don’t know him. But even if I did, I wouldn’t put myself in the middle of the most powerful villain and every hero and hero agency. I’m powerless not stupid.”

The hero seemed surprised by your response but quickly covered it with a small smile.

“Right. Well, if you need help or if any of the villains try anything, I’d feel a lot better if you had this.”

He took a step forward and held his hands out, dropping a small device in your open palm.

“If you press that button, it’ll call me directly. You don’t have to say anything when it calls—very few people have it and know to only use it in an emergency. I’ll come running.”

“Flying.” You correct lightly with a soft smile.

“Flying.”

Business returned to normal and within a month you were preparing the advertisements and informing your regular customers of the upcoming menu additions and changes.

Heroes were a bit distant at first, not excited about the change, but the number one hero quickly helped with the transition by becoming a regular customer. He visited and chatted with you every Friday.

Villains, on the other hand, were much quicker to visit and test the boundaries set by both heroes and villains.

Just when you’d had enough, the shadow villain you hadn’t seen since the night he proposed the new menu showed up.

“I believe I made myself clear! Neutral territory. No stake outs, only steak cuts!”

That earned a laugh from you, nervous chuckles from civilian patrons, and an earnest smile from a couple heroes.

“I’ll have a conversation with you after your shift. I shouldn’t have had to find out from that snotty number one hero that you were having difficulties with my crew.”

“Don’t you threaten me, Shadows.”

“Shadows?”

“I don’t know your name, sorry.”

“I’m literally the number one villain. I have a reputation that exceeds me. I’m a symbol!”

“Bit egotistical, don’t ya think?”

Luckily, he was in a playful enough mood to see the joke for what it was.

“Perhaps. I’ll take the sandwich you have undoubtedly made after me. I’m surprised I haven’t seen it in the advertisements.”

“I wanted to wait until you had tried it.”

“Naturally. Only you would make a guinea pig of me.”

You took fifteen minutes to make his sandwich and his sidekicks drink. You brought it out, a breath nestled deep in your chest clawing out but unable to until he stamped his approval on the sandwich you made with him in mind.

“How is it?” The number one hero stood directly behind the most wanted villain with a bright smile on his face.

With his mouth full, the villain rearranged it into his cheek to say: “Give me a second to savor it.”

The hero looked down, his hands on his hips as he awaited the answer you were eagerly shaking for. You were jumping with excitement as he took another bite.

“It’s a winner!!” You did a little happy dance and the few people watching cheered with you, grinning almost as madly as you were. Almost.

“Yeah, it’s pretty good. I’ll give you that. I’m not a pickle person, though.”

“I’ll tell you like I’ve told everyone else! That is a damn good sandwich and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna change it because of personal preference.”

The cheers died down, the hero shifted his weight from his front foot to his back, subtly getting in a defensive position.

“Fair enough.”

“I’ll still make you a sandwich without pickles but that’s the one going on the menu. Glad you like it.”

The villain walked out with a small smile that disappeared into the shadows along with him. That grin was the last thing you saw of him.

“I’ve never seen anyone talk to him like that.” The hero spoke with note of admiration and shock, eyebrows nearly to his forehead.

“I won’t back down to anyone.”

“I suppose that’s a good trait to have. Almost gave me a heart attack but, a good trait nevertheless.”

He ordered the same sandwich and complimented you with a wink.

“When do I get a sandwich?”

You own a sandwich shop in the heart of a superhero city. After gaining customers by making sandwiches based on heroes, you decided to try making some based on villains. Today, a villain stopped to review theirs.

[clarii]

Operation ‘Fix Eddie’s Screw-Up’

Summary: A year ago, Eddie Munson made a mistake he’s regretted ever since. When you walk into the video store where he works with Robin and Steve, old wounds resurface, and Eddie’s left grappling with the past. It doesn’t take long for Steve, Robin, and the kids to notice—and they decide to take matters into their own hands to fix things.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Author’s note: Good morning guys, I felt like Tumblr was lacking on some good old angst and fluff stories of him without any smut. This one is kinda long.

Eddie Munson’s job at Family Video wasn’t glamorous, but it was steady. After everything with the Upside Down, normalcy was a welcome relief. The place was rarely busy, which left plenty of time for him, Steve, and Robin to mess around behind the counter and argue over who was more tolerable to customers.

“Come on, Stevie,” Eddie said one slow Thursday afternoon, lazily spinning a VHS tape between his fingers. “Don’t act like you don’t love when middle-aged moms ask you to recommend a rom-com.”

“Better than you scaring them off with your metalhead charm,” Steve shot back.

Robin snorted from the counter. “Please, you’re both terrible. I’m the only one holding this place together.”

The three of them fell into easy banter, their laughter echoing through the empty store. Eddie had just started recounting a ridiculous D&D campaign he’d run when the bell above the door jingled.

“Welcome to Family Video!” Robin chirped without looking up from her inventory list.

Eddie, however, froze. His voice caught in his throat, his grip tightening on the tape in his hands. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was you. He’d recognize your presence anywhere.

A year. It had been a whole year since the last time he’d seen you—since the night he’d screwed everything up.

You didn’t even glance his way as you walked toward the shelves, your focus entirely on the rows of tapes. Your hair, your stance, the way you moved—it all hit him like a freight train, dragging memories to the surface that he’d tried so hard to bury.

“Uh, Eddie?” Steve nudged him, eyebrows raised. “You good, man?”

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbled, though his voice was tight. He forced himself to turn away, but he couldn’t stop glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

When you finally approached the counter with your rental, you placed it down without a word.

Robin, picking up on the tension, stepped forward to help. “Oh, this one’s good! Classic rom-com—”

“Just the tape, please,” you said curtly, cutting her off. Your voice wasn’t sharp, but it wasn’t warm, either.

Eddie didn’t dare speak. He kept his hands busy with the register, avoiding eye contact. When you paid and took your receipt, you turned on your heel and left without so much as a glance back.

The bell jingled again as the door closed behind you.

Eddie’s eyes, however, stayed fixed on the door long after you were gone.

It didn’t take long for Steve and Robin to notice.

“Okay, spill,” Robin said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. “What was that?”

“Yeah, dude,” Steve added. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He could feel their eyes boring into him, and he knew there was no getting out of this.

“That was her,” he said finally, his voice low.

“Her who?” Robin asked.

“The girl,” Eddie clarified. “The one I told you about. The one I…” He trailed off, the words catching in his throat.

“The one you majorly screwed over last year?” Robin guessed, her eyebrows shooting up.

Eddie winced. “Yeah, that one.”

Steve and Robin exchanged a look, and Eddie groaned.

“Don’t start, okay? I already know I’m an idiot. I’ve known for a year.”

Robin leaned forward, her expression curious. “Okay, but what exactly happened? You’ve never given us the full story.”

Eddie hesitated. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but he knew they weren’t going to let it go.

“She and I were… close,” he admitted. “Really close. She came to Hellfire sometimes, we’d hang out after school—she even helped me set up a few campaigns. But then, right before graduation, I panicked.”

“Panicked about what?” Steve asked, genuinely curious.

“About her,” Eddie said, his voice bitter. “She was everything I wasn’t. Smart, grounded, going places. And me? I was just the town freak. I thought if I pushed her away, it’d be easier for both of us. So I said some… things.”

Robin frowned. “Like what?”

“Like how I didn’t care about her the way she thought I did,” Eddie said quietly. “That she deserved better than some loser like me. It wasn’t true, but… I said it anyway.”

“Dude,” Steve muttered, shaking his head.

Eddie shrugged helplessly. “I thought I was doing the right thing, okay? But I messed everything up. She hasn’t spoken to me since, and I don’t blame her.”

Robin and Steve shared a look that could only be described as scheming.

“You know,” Robin said slowly, “this feels like the kind of thing we could fix.”

“Definitely,” Steve agreed. “I mean, it’s basically a rom-com setup. Guy screws up, realizes he’s an idiot, wins girl back with grand gesture.”

Eddie groaned. “No, no, no. Absolutely not. I don’t need you two meddling in my love life.”

“Too late,” Robin said with a grin. “Operation ‘Fix Eddie’s Screw-Up’ is officially a go.”

It didn’t take long for the rest of the gang to get involved.

When Dustin heard the story, he was immediately on board. “Eddie, you idiot,” he said, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’ve been pining over her for a year and didn’t tell me? I could’ve fixed this ages ago!”

“I don’t need fixing,” Eddie muttered.

“Clearly, you do,” Max said, rolling her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

Even Lucas, Mike, and Will had ideas, though most of them were wildly impractical. (“Write her a song,” Mike suggested. “Girls love that stuff.” “She’ll just think it’s cheesy,” Lucas argued.)

Through it all, Eddie tried to protest, but deep down, a part of him hoped they could pull it off.

The plan came together piece by piece, each member of the group contributing ideas that were somehow both chaotic and oddly brilliant.

“What about a mixtape?” Dustin suggested as he sprawled across Steve’s couch.

“A mixtape screams ‘80s romance,” Robin said, nodding. “But it needs to be personal. Like, songs that mean something to you and her.”

Eddie groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You guys don’t get it. She doesn’t even want to look at me, let alone listen to some cheesy mixtape.”

“Then don’t make it just about the tape,” Max said from her spot on the floor. “Make it part of something bigger.”

“And where’s this ‘bigger’ happening?” Steve asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

The group fell silent, all eyes turning to Eddie. He frowned, tapping his fingers against his knee. Then it hit him—an idea so crazy it might actually work.

“The Hawkins Carnival,” he said.

“What about it?” Dustin asked.

“They’re setting it up this weekend, right? She used to love going to that thing. We’d sneak off after school and blow all our money on funnel cakes and rides.” His voice softened as the memories flooded back. “Maybe… maybe I could meet her there.”

“Okay, but what’s the actual plan?” Robin pressed. “You can’t just show up and expect her to swoon over you.”

“Yeah,” Steve added. “You need a moment. Something big. Something unforgettable.”

Eddie thought for a moment, then smirked. “I’ve got just the thing.”

The days leading up to the carnival were a whirlwind of preparation. Dustin helped Eddie pick out songs for the mixtape, while Robin and Steve coached him on what to say.

“Apologize first,” Steve advised. “Don’t try to justify what you did—just own up to it.”

“And be sincere,” Robin added. “No sarcasm, no jokes. This isn’t the time for your usual deflection.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but took their advice to heart.

Meanwhile, the kids worked on the logistics of his grand gesture. Lucas and Max snuck into the carnival grounds to scope out the perfect location, while Will and Mike brainstormed backup plans in case things went south.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Eddie was a bundle of nerves. The mixtape was finished, his speech was rehearsed, and the stage was set. All that was left was for you to show up.

The Hawkins Carnival was alive with lights and laughter, the scent of fried food wafting through the air. Eddie stood near the Ferris wheel, his heart pounding as he scanned the crowd.

“You’ve got this,” Dustin said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Just stick to the plan.”

Eddie nodded, though his palms were sweating.

Then he saw you.

You were standing by the carousel, looking effortlessly beautiful in the glow of the carnival lights. The sight of you took his breath away, and for a moment, he almost lost his nerve. But then he remembered why he was here—why he’d spent the past year kicking himself for letting you go.

He squared his shoulders and approached you, his heart racing.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the carnival.

You turned, your eyes widening in surprise. “Eddie?”

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice pleading.

You hesitated, your expression guarded. But after a moment, you nodded. “Fine.”

Eddie led you to a quieter spot near the edge of the carnival, away from the crowds. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the mixtape, holding it out to you.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing it warily.

“It’s… an apology,” he said. “And a thank-you. And a promise to do better if you’ll let me.”

You stared at him, your fingers brushing the edge of the tape but not taking it. “Why now, Eddie? Why after all this time?”

“Because I’ve been an idiot,” he admitted. “I thought I was doing you a favor by pushing you away. I told myself you deserved better, but the truth is, I was scared. Scared of how much I cared about you. Scared of screwing it up.”

He took a deep breath, his hands trembling. “But I did screw it up. And I hate myself for that. I just… I needed you to know that I’m sorry. And that I never stopped…”

“Never stopped what?” you prompted, your voice soft.

“Never stopped loving you,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You really hurt me, Eddie.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me.”

You stared at him for what felt like an eternity, and Eddie braced himself for the worst. But then, slowly, you reached for the tape, your fingers curling around it.

“I’ll listen to it,” you said softly.

Eddie’s heart soared. “That’s all I’m asking.”

But the night wasn’t over yet.

As you turned to leave, the Ferris wheel lit up behind you, the carnival music swelling in the background. Eddie hesitated, then called out.

“Wait!”

You turned back, your brow furrowed.

“Will you ride the Ferris wheel with me?” he asked, his voice trembling. “One last time?”

Your lips curved into a small smile, and for the first time in a year, Eddie felt hope.

“Okay,” you said.

As the two of you climbed into the Ferris wheel carriage, the world below seemed to fade away. The lights, the noise, the crowds—it all disappeared, leaving just the two of you suspended in the night sky.

And as the Ferris wheel reached its peak, Eddie turned to you, his eyes searching yours.

“I meant what I said,” he whispered. “I love you. I never stopped.”

This time, you didn’t hesitate. You leaned in, closing the distance between you, and kissed him.

The world tilted, the stars spinning above, but Eddie didn’t care. For the first time in a year, everything felt right.

The Ferris wheel creaked softly as it came to a stop, grounding you and Eddie back in the bustle of the carnival. But neither of you moved to get out of the carriage right away. Instead, you stayed seated, your hands still intertwined, your heads leaning close together.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “if you mess this up again, I’m never speaking to you.”

Eddie let out a breathless laugh, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. “Fair enough. But I won’t. You’ve got my word.”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. His dark eyes, once filled with nervous energy, now held something softer. Something earnest. You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I’ll hold you to that, Munson.”

The Ferris wheel operator coughed awkwardly from below, snapping you both out of the moment. “Uh, you getting out or planning to rent the thing for the night?”

Eddie grinned and hopped out, offering you his hand to help you down. The two of you wandered back into the glowing chaos of the carnival, your shoulders brushing with every step.

The next morning, the story of your reunion had spread faster than Eddie anticipated.

When he walked into Family Video for his shift, Steve was already smirking behind the counter, Robin perched on top of it with a knowing grin. Dustin, Mike, and Lucas had apparently stopped by, too, judging by the excited chatter echoing through the store.

“Look who’s finally not single!” Robin announced loudly as Eddie stepped inside.

Steve threw an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, ruffling his hair. “How does it feel, Romeo?”

“Like I should’ve kept my mouth shut about all this,” Eddie muttered, though he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“C’mon, man, don’t be shy,” Dustin said, grinning ear to ear. “We did help, after all. You should be thanking us.”

“Oh, thank you, wise sages of Hawkins,” Eddie said, bowing dramatically. “I couldn’t have done it without your meddling.”

Robin snorted. “Damn right.”

Later that week, you stopped by Family Video, much to the delight of the gang.

“Look who it is!” Robin sang as you walked in, nudging Eddie.

You shot her a mock glare before turning your attention to Eddie, who had abandoned all pretense of professionalism to lean against the counter with a wide grin.

“Hi,” you said, a little shyly.

“Hi,” he replied, his tone soft and warm.

Robin and Steve exchanged a glance, then bolted for the back room, dragging Dustin and the others with them.

“Hey, we weren’t done!” Dustin protested, but Robin slammed the door shut behind them, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Eddie leaned closer. “They mean well, but they’re the absolute worst, I swear.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “They’re not so bad. I think I owe them, actually.”

“For what?”

“For convincing me to give you another chance.”

Eddie’s smile faltered slightly. “Do I… deserve another chance?”

You reached across the counter, taking his hand. “You’re earning it. And so far, you’re doing a pretty good job.”

The weight that had been pressing on Eddie’s chest for a year seemed to lift entirely. He grinned, his fingers curling around yours.

“Well, then,” he said, his voice playful but sincere. “I guess I’d better keep it up, huh?”

You smirked. “You’d better.”

As you left the store, mixtape in hand, Eddie watched you go with a goofy grin on his face. Steve emerged from the back room just in time to catch him staring.

“Still gazing after her like a lovesick puppy?” Steve teased.

“Absolutely,” Eddie said without shame.

Robin grinned as she joined them. “Well, looks like Operation ‘Fix Eddie’s Screw-Up’ was a success.”

“Don’t ever call it that again,” Eddie groaned, though his smile didn’t waver.

And as the group broke into laughter, Eddie realized something: he wasn’t just grateful to have you back in his life. He was grateful for all of it—the chaos, the meddling, the friends who refused to let him give up on love.

Because this? This was a second chance he wasn’t going to waste.

The End.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 24

(Erikír is a Mahi Mahi merman and is best suited to warm climate seas. He doesn't fare well in cold climates or cold waters, hence his dislike for Merfolk who are more adapted to the cold like Azul and the Tweels. Genetically, Erikír is part Human and benefits greatly from that part of him that allows him to get almost anything he wants. Though his Mahi Mahi genes are dominant, he does have a few abyssal sea creatures in his heritage, but shuns these parts of him because he prefers the more Human-like appearance of his Mahi Mahi genes. He has long wished for a Human of his own to wed and adore, to the point he is considered as much of a Humanfucker as Azul is.)

Warnings; longer chapter, Spelldrive Tournament in full swing, poachers, betrayal, Grim and the Human are both in danger several times during chapter, snuggles, calming an unhappy Dragon, conflict of the highest proportion, power difference, public violence, Leona is not a happy camper but he is trying, isolation, suggestive themes, plans and schemes come to light, Azul is a schemer but can be a genuinely good guy, fish conflict, Dragon rage, familiar faces, RSA students choosing sides, overblot, violence, mention of blood and ink, the plot bunny took off sprinting, interference, Nemean Lion, Harpies, Dragon, Vampire Bat, Raiju, Cervitaur, Hellcat, Merfolk, Drider, Bakeneko, Unicorn,

~~~~~~~~

Leona was furious and pouting all at once as you spoke to the Headmage. It was later in the day when he called you and your guards for the week to his office, but what he had to say deeply upset Leona.

The Spelldrive Tournament was going to take place the very next day and the storm had yet to let up. Almost everywhere outside looked like a swamp-land made of mud and most students struggled to get through the tumultuous terrain even for their flying classes with Professor Vargas. There was no way the Spelldrive Tournament could take place while the storm continued to rage.

That brought you to the present where Crowley had given you an order dressed as a suggestion.

"It would be best for you to spend the evening with Diasomnia so we have a chance to dry the arena without further storms."

"Wait, so you're telling me Tsuno has been the cause of this storm for several days?"

"Yes. Mr. Draconia is a Dragon, and as a Dragon he is far more linked to nature and the natural weather cycles. Surely you have noticed how his general mood impacts the world around him?"

"Of course I have, he even told me when he is angry it storms, I just didn't think anyone could keep a storm going for days like this. Not even him."

Crowley nodded, looking back out as several more strikes of green lightning leaped through the dark and swirling clouds. It really was putting Malleus' strength in perspective for you to find out that he could keep such a strong storm going for days on end. You being in Savanaclaw must have deeply messed with his personal comfort, though you were beginning to feel his possessive behavior was more than just the norm for how he protected his Hoard.

"Savanaclaw is the dorm tasked with guarding the little Mousey, you can't just sweep in and tell us the night before the Spelldrive that we have to give her up because that Lizard is in a pissy mood-!"

The lightning now struck the very tower your group was in at least four times, crackling and roaring with thunder. It was far more than just simple coincidence that the lightning followed Leona's crass words towards the Dragon. Even as things calmed, poor Grim was shaking inside your uniform jacket, covering his torn ears with his little paws.

"Leona, the Spelldrive can't happen if the arena is flooded. I'm sorry, but if this is really all because of Tsuno, then I have to go to Diasomnia tonight. Even Vil said it was likely before we had that photoshoot."

Leona's ears angled back at your words, he knew you were right but he didn't like it regardless. Even beyond the fact that he now had to break the news to his team about not having your energizing and filling cooking the night before the Spelldrive Tournament, he had other issues. He simply didn't trust those RSA boys, at least, he didn't trust Erikír.

"Speaking of the photoshoot," Leona growled, now turning back to Crowley, "I take serious issue with that pompous prick Erikír being anywhere near Mousey. I don't give a damn if the Owl trusts that fish-prince, he isn't safe to keep around her."

"Ambrose assures me all three of the chosen guards are sworn to keep her safe from poachers-"

"But what about keeping her safe from them?"

"What do you mean?"

"That fucker tried to hold Mousey and was feeling up her stomach during that stupid photoshoot."

This made Crowley suddenly scowl, his feathers ruffling as his wings rose up dangerously. The relaxed and almost flippant behavior of the Crow Harpy was now gone, replaced by a low cawing hiss from the man.

"... He did what?"

"That fish-dick prince was making Mousey uncomfortable and kept touching on her stomach for almost every picture he was in! Even when Mousey yelled at him for his behavior, he didn't deny it, he just gave excuses!"

A kind of rage seemed to fill the Crow as his feathers bristled and his lip curled in fury. Such a brazenly disrespectful act from someone who should know better than to try and assault the treasured Human was no small crime. Still, it was too late to really change the guards now so close to the Tournament. He would have to ensure to speak with Ambrose about Erikír never getting the chance to be with you alone.

"I will handle it."

"But-!"

"I said I will handle it, Mr. Kingscholar. For now, continue on as you have. (Y/n), my sweet little bird, I will take you to Diasomnia. If anything happens tomorrow to make you uncomfortable- from words said, to physical action taken- you need to tell me or one of the professors. Even if you just get an off feeling from anyone, find one of us or a Housewarden. I will talk with Ambrose about his questionable choice of Mr. Helmsman and we will address his behavior towards you. Mr. Ashengrotto is in charge of most confections and organization of tomorrow, he will be made aware of the situation and I will ensure he keeps an eye on those Royal Sword Academy students tomorrow."

You nodded, casting a glance back at Leona as Crowley gently herded you from the room, leading you to the ever familiar mirror of the Diasomnia dorm. Even inside Diasomnia's realm, the storm only seemed to rage stronger than it did outside on Sage Island. Crowley was quick to cover you with one of his large black wings, ushering you inside the dorm and out of the raging winds.

Thankfully, due to his insulating wing, you weren't too wet from the rain, but the Crow was obviously not pleased and shook out his feathers. The students that had been in the common area looked over as the two of you entered, their curiosity drawing more attention along with hushed whispers. Despite having been in Diasomnia before, you really didn't remember the way to Malleus' room and felt a little lost in the grand halls of the dorm.

You didn't see Malleus among them and slowly reached up to grab your collar, holding the Magestone gifted to you. Malleus did say you could call him for anything and he would answer, so perhaps you would have to call for him now.

"(Y/n)!"

A familiar voice cheered happily and from the rafters fell a familiar leathery-winged Bat. The young-looking Fae seemed thrilled to see you in Diasomnia, his hair fluffed up and his smile wide as he greeted you.

"Here for a visit? You should go see Malleus, he has been a bit out of sorts recently and I'm sure seeing you will put him in an excellent mood."

"Well, that's why I'm here. Apparently, we can't do the Spelldrive Tournament if the field is too wet, so I'm here to see if Tsuno will be willing to call off his storm if I stay the night."

"Wonderful idea! Here, let me go get him-"

A loud boom of thunder shook the stone foundations of the dorm and everyone glanced nervously in what was likely the direction of Malleus' room. The faint click of hooves approaching let you know more students were joining those in the common area. Silver and Sebek came into view shortly following the lull of thunder, both looking worse for wear.

Sebek's head was hanging low and he had an almost sad look on his fierce face, his tail limp and his ears drooping slightly. Silver didn't seem to be in any better of a mood as the two almost looked downcast. Without much decorum or their usual grace, the two approached Lilia with tired eyes and disheartened expressions.

"My Liege won't come out of his room. He refuses to see anyone, just like yesterday. It is not my place to suggest such things, but perhaps we could convince-"

Sebek cut himself off as he saw you standing there, Grim slowly peaking out of your uniform jacket and looking towards the familiar faces curiously. He seemed to almost get a second wind as he stared, mouth somewhat ajar in surprise. Silver was quicker to pick up on his change in attitude, noticing you as well and perking up in a similar way to Sebek.

"M-My Lady (Y/n)," Sebek quickly bowed his head to you, "did something happen in that detestable Lion's dorm-?"

"No, not at all, Sebek. I'm here to spend some time with Malleus."

"Thank the stars! I mean-! His Highness has been pining recently... I have been worried that he has refused to leave his room for several days now, but if he finds out the entire Hoard is here, perhaps he will calm."

You nodded and then realized Lilia had skipped off without anyone realizing, likely heading the direction Silver and Sebek had come. As you turned to Silver to hear what the Reindeer had to say, there was a sudden sound of rumbling that was quite different from the storm outside. It sounded like someone running.

You yelped as you were suddenly swept up into a pair of arms, a familiar black tail winding around you quickly and holding you securely. The chest you were held against was thumping wildly with a frantic heart, a low almost purring noise meeting your ears as the storm outside lulled to silence. There was no need to look and see who it was that held you as you were quite familiar with the arms and tail holding you. Even the wings that wrapped around your figure and hid you from outside view were a familiar color that shined in the low light of the dorm.

"(Y/n)," Malleus hummed, his voice as soft as a whisper, "you're here..."

You smiled somewhat, pulling back to give Grim more room as he purred and bumped his head gently against Malleus' chest. Clearly the Hellcat had missed the Dragon as well, happy to see him again. Grim's behavior towards Malleus made you smile as it was obvious the kit enjoyed the presence of the nocturnal Fae.

"Mama and I missed you, Tsuno!"

Malleus was practically beaming at the happy tone and kind words of the kit, smiling at the both of you affectionately. He even allowed the kit to use his tiny claws, clambering up the front of his Dorm uniform and onto his broad shoulder. The Dragon smiled at the sweet behavior of the kit, ensuring the feline didn't fall as he returned his gaze to you.

"And I have missed my two wayward Hoard members. Now the Hoard is complete once more."

~•§•~

The sun began to crest the horizon, slowly shedding light onto the glistening buildings and fields. With luck, the reprieve from the relentless storm had been enough to somewhat dry the soaked land. Even if it wasn't enough, magic could certainly do the rest.

Shadows retreated from the boarders of the school atop the mountain, hissing as they fled back into the woods. The campus began to buzz with activity as the day of the Spelldrive Tournament had finally arrived. Naturally, most outside of the Diasomnia students didn't expect their dorm to win, but it was still enough of an occasion to stir up the hearts of the students.

With the increasing activity and the low hum of students, everyone began to prepare for the day of activity. What many students hadn't expected was the increased presence of their rival school so early in the day.

Many students from Royal Sword Academy were taking up posts, offering to help the more standoffish Night Raven College students in setting up for the day. The conflict between the two schools was palpable, requiring the intervention of several Housewardens to keep the peace. Even with the presence of the rival school, the excitement in the air was too much for most to ignore.

"I have informed Neige and Artemiyevich that Erikír should not be left alone with young (Y/n) at any point today. Hopefully it will be enough. They also confirmed his behavior towards (Y/n) was out of line."

"He shouldn't be one of her guards today, you know that as well as I. His behavior proves he cannot handle being in the presence of a Human."

"I have faith he will be mindful of his place today, and we will discuss further punishment for his actions."

"Ambrose, he touched her stomach."

"And we will address that after the Spelldrive Tournament. There are too many visiting royals and family members to bring it up now on the cusp of this event. He will be punished, trust me on that, but now is not the time."

Crowley gave another annoyed cawing sound, an almost low croak of a vocalization. Though he wanted that prince punished for daring to perform such a brazen and provocative act, the Headmage understood Ambrose's ambivalent take on the situation. They just needed to get through this Tournament and then scores could be settled.

"Fine. May this day be as uneventful as possible."

~•§•~

You sat in a side room of the arena in an indoor seat, far from the view of cameras and crowds. The window on the far side of the private suite was looking out over the arena where the seven dorms of Night Raven College clashed together in an attempt at winning over the others. Thus far, Savanaclaw and Diasomnia were in the lead and likely to face off in the final round. Despite spending most mornings that week watching the Savanaclaw team play and practice, you still understood very little about how the game was actually played.

The most you could gather from the rounds you had seen was that there had to be seven members on each team and the goal was to take control of the Frisbee like disk and get it to the goalposts on either side of the field. Some of the team was flying on brooms, other members were using their magic to try and protect the disk from the opposing team. It still made very little sense to you, but you were content to watch all the same.

Any time Malleus or Leona took the field, it became readily apparent that they were the crowd favorites as more than a bit of noise was made for them. Clearly, it burned Vil somewhat as he glowered at Leona from the opposite side of the arena as the Harpy's dorm lost to the Lion. Now Diasomnia and Savanaclaw would be facing off in the finals.

If anything, the Tournament really put into perspective how skilled those selected actually were. From the magic they used to take or keep control of the disk, to the ferocity at which they played and moved, you were realizing that you were extremely outmatched against any of these magic users. All it really did was let you know how crucial those like Malleus truly were to your survival. Perhaps, next time you are assigned to a specific dorm, you would call upon Malleus with that Magestone he had gifted you.

He did say 'whenever you need' so surely that truly meant whenever. Even beyond keeping your allies close it would also keep everyone else safe. That storm lasted for days on end, lightning and thunder rolling day and night. Though you had been tucked away safely in Savanaclaw dorm far beyond the reach of the outside weather, you knew the storm had raged at all hours. To think Malleus could keep it going for that long only further proved how outmatched almost everyone was.

Though you were brought into the Hoard unwillingly, your role was becoming clearer by the day. Any living member of a Dragon's Hoard kept that Dragon peaceful. Maybe you had to just periodically visit with him but could still manage to get time away from his almost suffocating embrace.

Luckily Lilia seemed keen to help you in exchange for more time spent with him teaching you ways to soothe the dangerous beast that was Malleus. He had done it for hundreds of years now, he was the master of it thus far. It would behoove you to at least learn how to keep the Dragon calm if only to have more chances to speak with the Human Ghosts.

Time was becoming your primary currency and with all these beasts vying for it, you would have to learn to spend it wisely. If that meant honing you abilities to earn their affections, then you would have to do that and do it subtly. If you could just ask the Ghosts what this aura specifically did and how to control it, maybe you could survive and escape this insanity after all. The stronger the beast, the more you were protected from those that were so keen to get their hands on you.

Beasts like Erikír.

You spoke with Lilia about the misconception that they all seemed to have, vaguely recalling those moments in the past any had touched your stomach. It was a strange and ludicrous falsehood they all seemed to believe was true and it boggled your mind. At least it had prevented most of them from trying to give you belly-rubs. But it still put the Merman's faux pas into perspective.

It also put some of Leona's behavior into perspective. Still, you looked more favorably on Leona for resting on your stomach in the Greenhouse, as Grim had settled there first. Maybe the Lion didn't know or didn't care about these myths surrounding Humans.

Outside of territorial behavior, Grim had been a good judge of character and had hissed at the prince before. Grim also seemed to have a much better opinion of Leona than he did Erikír, lending more credence to a lack of ulterior motive on Leona's part. Even now, Grim kept a wary eye on the Merman who stood to your left, closest to the door.

You wondered why they allowed him to show up if what he did was truly such a disrespect, but you also figured it was because he was skilled in magic and could act as a guard. It wasn't like the RSA students were present for a social visit. Despite that fact, Neige had been a welcome source of distraction and conversation.

"What do you think of the Spelldrive Tournament so far, (Y/n)? It always amazes me how Vil can still look so lovely even while playing a sport."

"I guess that's just how he is. He does make it look flawless. Do you two know each other?"

"Yeah, we went to school together before we both got accepted into mage school. We were always in the same school plays and musicals as the two lead roles. I was usually cast as the hero lead and Vil was cast as the villain. Even then he was amazing at acting and stole the show every time. I always felt so proud of him and a little sad when we had to fight, even if it was just acting."

Neige was a breath of fresh air and honesty, readily telling you all of his stories and sharing every bit of information he could remember. There was a slight warbling coo to his voice as he spoke and the sound caught Grim's attention quickly. The little Hellcat's pupils locked onto the Harpy who continued to speak, his whiskers and tail twitching in fixation.

Of course the Hellcat would like birds.

"We both became young actors and actually got movie roles together too. It always made me smile so much to see Vil was cast as my partner again. Not like a hero partner, but a villain partner. A hero is good and all, but it is the villain that really carries the movie. If you don't have a skilled villain, you don't have a good movie. He hasn't been acting much since he started school here though. I miss him-"

The sweet Dove cut off with a loud cooing call, startled as his wings flared out to the sides when Grim leaped for the boy. It was immediately obvious the kit was harmlessly playing and Neige actually began to laugh as Grim pawed obsessively at his face, trying to get Neige to coo again. You smiled and stood to retrieve Grim, holding your hands out to the kit that was purring and mewling happily against the feathers of the Dove.

As you extended your hand a voice caught your attention and you felt the sudden presence of magic all around you. It hummed in the air musically and glowed a cerulean through the space around you like water. The source of the intrinsically beautiful light coming from over you shoulder near the door.

"Voiceless Song."

The voice cut through the magic with cold determination as almost all sound seemed to be blocked out. Everything except for a softly lulling melody drowned in the wave of magic that took over the room. A hand pulled you away from the other RSA students and Grim, almost throwing you back into the firm chest of the one behind you. The others seemed trapped in some kind of trance by the music as you were pulled out of the room.

A webbed hand flew over your mouth as you writhed in the grasp of the man as the door closed behind you and sound returned. No doubt those in the room were trapped by whatever spell was cast. Similarly, it felt like your voice was suddenly trapped in your throat. Though you were beyond the lasting influence of the room, you were still silenced.

"Shh, we don't want you calling anyone for help now, not when we're so close. Keep quiet while those Fae poachers take care of our exit plan. To think, all it took to make them join my side was the promise of one of our eggs-"

You writhed suddenly in his grasp, teeth clamping down on the flesh with a quick turn of your head. His grasp loosened enough in surprise that you could turn in his hold, curling your fingers so your knuckles met his throat so you cut him off sharply.

His arms fell from their place as he held his throat in shock, but you weren't going to wait around this time. The moment you were loose you took off in the opposite direction, heading to the suite not far from you.

Azul's team had lost early and the dorm leader retired to a nearby reserved suite. He even texted you about his location in case of emergencies and this was absolutely an emergency. In your blind run you felt your silenced throat and lamented the fact you couldn't call Malleus while affected.

The door was already open when you rounded the corner, Azul walking out with Jade and Floyd following close behind. All three looked ready to fight as you ran straight into Floyd, the sturdy Merman catching you and holding you protectively. He was quick to move you so you were behind him and Jade, Azul immediately facing the approaching threat.

Erikír rounded the corner and seemed surprised to find Azul standing in his way. He held his throat and his voice came out hoarsely from your direct attack, no longer the smooth croon he usually had.

"Azul... Of course it's you."

"What happened, Erikír? Her collar pinged."

"It-? Of course. Of course, it was too easy. I should have known. Why didn't I think of that?"

"What are you on about? (Y/n), did he hurt you?"

Azul glanced back at you and you tried to speak and say something to the concerned octopus, but no words came out. His eyes widened at this and he whirled around to face Erikír.

"You did this with your signature spell! I should have known you would pull something like this!"

"No! I would expect you to do something so monstrous. I am looking out for the Human and I am what is best for her. Not you villains! None of you understand the truth, but I do. And even if I need to become a monster, I will prove it to you."

The harsh snapping of bones and ripping of clothes met your ears as the lovely prince standing before you turned into a twisted and wicked looking beast. His mouth ripped and deformed to allow jutting teeth like a deep sea fish, his fins curling and splines ripping away at his clothes. Dark ink pooled beneath his nails as his skin grayed and leeched out his natural colors. The pin on his lapel came loose and formed a long trident in his hands, ink seeming to bleed from the walls and his body.

"Jade, Floyd!"

Both twin Eels drew their weapons, a Leiomano in Floyd's hand an a Harpoon in Jade's hand. The Feral Erikír hissed a shrieking roar as it attacked, Azul pulling you back from the fray and assessing your neck. You tried to let him look but felt worry as the twins clearly seemed to be caught off guard by the strength of the Feral Erikír.

As Azul's hand glowed your throat slowly felt like it was clearing, but it was obvious the octopus needed to join the twins against Erikír. You tried to keep at least one of them between you and the now Feral prince, noticing the way the twins played off of one another even in the fight. Azul seemed to be more on the defense as he blocked the large waves of ink thrown at the four of you. Both twins moved together but even their combination of attacks didn't seem to deter the large Merman who was rampaging.

Azul hissed as one of those inky blobs sliced past his cheek, blue blood seeping down from the injury. Azul took a quick glance at you before his body began to change, his pants ripping from his figure as dark black tentacles burst forward. The juxtaposition between the Trident wielding Octopus and the Trident wielding Feral prince was not lost on you as Azul turned his full attention forward, each tentacle wielding perfect copies of his original weapon.

The beast shrieked again at the increased attacks but you couldn't focus on him as the sound of more footsteps came from behind you. You had hoped it was someone familiar at best, and at worse a member of either school, but those approaching were strangers. Their eyes reminded you of Lilia and Malleus, as did their ears, but they were all staring at you. They didn't wear the uniform of either school so you knew these had to be the Fae poachers Erikír spoke of before you escaped him.

Azul couldn't deal with both threats at once and you held a hand to the Magestone on your neck.

"..."

~•§•~

On the field fought two Housewardens, going neck and neck. Despite the difference in strength, Malleus was willingly holding back. If for nothing more than to give his beloved Human a good show. You had seemed actually excited about watching the game and he wanted to ensure you had a chance to enjoy yourself. Leona took the opportunity with both hands and the scores were tied up. As they prepared to start the game once again, a sudden voice split through Malleus' mind, so filled with fear that flames ingulfed the dragon completely.

"Malleus Draconia!"

Voices screamed out in surprise as the Dragon tore from his tame form and into the scaled hide of his full Draconic figure. Flames leaped from his throat as the beast turned to the beacon of magic that called for his aid, launching himself into the wall of the arena and breaking through the side of the building far too easily. The Dragon clawed into the breach before pulling back, dropping from the wall with a soft figure held in his jaws as he coasted on leathery wings.

Following behind the Dragon was a large burst of black ink, flowing forward towards the Dragon. As he landed, he set the little figure down with the utmost care between his claws. The beast stood with wings spread wide, smoke rolling out of his mouth as the beast hissed towards the approaching darkness.

Screams and gasps escaped the crowd as the clearly Feral Merman leaped out. Within the wall of the arena, it was clear there was a fight taking place inside. Confusion almost reigned before a pair of Harpies flew out from the side of the arena and onto the field. Both Harpies were well known celebrities and it was clear the smaller of the pair was leaning heavily on the other.

The watching Housewardens also joined the field, a lovely Unicorn leaping into the scene with the pink-haired Bakeneko on his back, also seeming worse for wear. A large Drider joining the field with a small winged feline in his arms. Despite the sudden appearance of the clearly Feral mage, several figures joined the inked beast's side against the Dragon. Standing with wide eyed determination, several Fae stood trying to stand against their prince for the promise of their own Human.

"You dare oppose your prince? Flee and I won't hunt you. Stay, and you burn with the Feral."

The Dragon's voice boomed loudly, making several of the opposing Fae flinch sharply from the tone and force. A few even backed away fearfully, turning to flee the intense glare of the scaled beast.

The inky beast didn't care that it faced a Dragon, trying to launch that same dark liquid at the beast who merely shrugged it off, every attack rolling off the scales harmlessly. With a quick whip of his tail, the inky beast was sent spiraling back after every failed attack, screaming in increasing frustration. Forming in the throat of the Dragon was rolling green flames, flickering and rising up in intensity as the great Dragon moved his claws, holding his precious treasure securely and safely. After all, what could truly harm a Dragon?

A sudden burst of white and black feathers exploded onto the arena, both Headmages stepping in the now forming battlefront in an attempt to keep the peace. Any Fae that tried to run was quickly caught by vines that exploded from the field, joined by more until the Fae was overwhelmed by the plants. Shadowed and Snowy feathers danced as combined blasts of magic overwhelmed and forced the Feral Merman down.

Thankfully, the interjection of the Headmage was enough to stay the flame of the Dragon, though it was clear he wanted to scorch the prince. He hissed and slammed his tail in what could only be described as predatorial frustration. The Dragon wanted nothing more than to protect his prized treasure with murderous levels of strength, the Harpies only somewhat soothing his rage.

"Malleus?"

Your voice was small but rang loudly in the Dragon's head, compelling the large beast to look down at where you were curled in his claws. The soft figure of his Human was a soothing one and seemed so much smaller in his claws. It soothed him more than he could describe to know he held his prized treasure securely and safely.

Even one Feral was too many, two? Unacceptable by any stretch.

"I am here, my (Y/n). I'm here."

The scaled beast dropped his head, opening his claws to gaze down contently. He could see no injury on his beloved and it soothed him more than believed possible.

"I care not for this game any longer. My Hoard takes priority. Where is the kit?"

Rook came over with a groggy and still magically impacted Grim. The Dragon allowing the arachnid to place the kit in his claws, back where he belonged with the adored Human. That fish would face consequences and Malleus wanted to be the one to perform it. But that could be handled later, as could the repairs to the arena. Now he needed to enjoy the simple comfort of knowing he got to his adored Human before anyone could hurt her.

All was as it should be.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

this is what happens when social butterfly talks too much

“h-how filthy you are.” nanami’s voice was husky and laced with warning, trembling slightly as he spoke with each thrust, pinning you firmly to the bed and fucking you from behind.

what had led to this?

you had no idea.

you’d barely come back from school when nanami declared you were heading to his place. as soon as he opened the door, he kissed you roughly, scooped you up, carried you to his room, and bent you over, spanking your ass with fervor.

and god, it hurt.

his thick cock hit all your sweet spots with every thrust, making you bury your face further into the sheets beneath you. this position made you feel every inch of him so intensely that, even though you felt full to the brim, you still wanted more.

nanami groaned deeply, landing another sharp smack on your reddened ass. “what’s your deal, huh? trying—ugh—trying to drive me insane?” his large hands gripped your hips tighter, pushing his cock deeper into your sensitive walls.

“w-what are you talking about?” you managed to stammer, barely coherent, consumed by the maddening pleasure of his cock filling you.

“liar.” smack. “don’t even try to test me—fuck, you feel so good…”

it was too much. you’d already come so many times that each orgasm felt stronger and more frequent, your body trembling as nanami kept pounding into you without missing a beat, determined to ruin you completely.

“do you have to be so friendly with everyone?” his tone was sharper now, tinged with jealousy.

“i am not friendly—ahh ken, please—” your words broke off into a moan as he found that perfect spot inside you, sending you over the edge again.

“again? what a needy girl you are. did i tell you to come?” his pace slowed. nanami knew your orgasms were becoming more frequent as he kept thrusting his cock into you over and over again. that's why he wanted you to beg him a little.

“no, no, don’t stop!” you whined desperately, protesting the sudden lack of movement inside you.

“then why were you talking to them?” he thrust in just the tip before slamming his cock back inside you. “i hate how much of a social butterfly you are.” he pulled out until only his head was inside again.

oh. you finally understood why your boyfriend had been so riled up.

“they-they just needed the notes, ken.” the words fell from your lips in a shaky mumble.

“notes, huh?” he let out a bitter laugh, plunging deep enough to make you scream. “don’t they have their own hands to write? did it have to be you?”

“they m-missed class.”

nanami chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “sure, sweetheart.” he pulled back only to resume his relentless pace, pounding into you as if it were the last thing he’d ever do, fully intent on claiming every inch of you.

“never again—fuck—never give them anything, got it?” he punctuated his words with a rough thrust, making sure you felt every single one.

“yes.” your answer was muffled, your face buried in the sheets as waves of pleasure overwhelmed you.

a firm slap landed on your already sore ass. “louder sweetheart.”

“fuck, yes ken. i won’t talk to them again!” your hands clawed at the wrinkled sheets beneath you, gripping them tighter.

“that’s my girl.” nanami tilted his head back, feeling his release building as his pace became more frantic. “now i’m going to fill you up, sweetheart. i won’t stop until every inch of you is dripping with me.”

his grip on your hips tightened, his strong hands holding you so firmly it made your skin burn. you felt the warmth of his release spilling inside you, your toes curling at the sensation. there was something so satisfying about taking all of him, knowing you were the only one who could make him lose control like this.

when he finally pulled out, not a single drop escaped you. he’d made sure of that.

you shivered as his warm lips pressed against your sore, reddened ass.

“my beautiful girl. i love you so much,” he murmured, his hands now gentle as they rubbed soothing circles over your tender skin.

then, just as he’d carried you to the bedroom earlier, he scooped you up again and took you to the bathroom. there, he filled the tub with warm water and bubbles, treating you with all the care in the world, a stark contrast to his earlier roughness.

when nanami got jealous, he could lose himself completely—but no one else could fuck you like that or pamper you afterward quite like he could.

a little note: i'm so horny and i need jealous nanami.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[zepskies]

Hi Zep!! I love your writing so much!

How do you think Dean/Beau/ Ben would react to a surprise pregnancy and if the reader was unsure of keeping it?

Hi there! Aw thank you, anon. 💜

I know you asked me this a while back, but to be honest this is a touchy subject, so I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer it. All I can do is give my honest thoughts based on what I know of these three characters, with all their flaws and personality traits and humanity that goes along with that.

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to a surprise pregnancy.

(And if you weren't sure about keeping it.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Dean Winchester

Once Dean gets past the initial shock, and the inevitable "how did this happen??!", he remembers just how he could've gotten you pregnant. Part of him wants to smile at the memory.

Good times.

He slowly realizes that he's...he's happy.

He never thought that he'd have any piece of "normal" after the way things ended with Lisa. Hell, he never thought he'd find what he had with you, let alone have a kid.

He hasn't told you this, because he's locked it deep within himself and hasn't allowed himself to open that door, but the part of Dean that considered what he would leave behind on this earth if he died--the part of him that wanted a family, is still there, beating in his heart. Maybe now he's finally getting his chance.

But he focuses on you.

He gauges your reaction, and his urge to smile falls away when he realizes you're more nervous and freaked out than excited.

Dean sits down with you, taking your hands to calm you down. He suppresses his own feelings on this for a moment, and he asks you the important question.

"What do you wanna do?"

You look up into his eyes, and you really don't know. The hunting lifestyle you both lead, how can you bring a child into this? Would that be right? Are you even ready to be a mom? Are you even capable?

"I don't know if I can..." you confess. "Dean, I don't know if I'm ready."

It breaks Dean's heart, though he tries not to show it.

For once, he thinks hard about what he's going to say next.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and squeezes your hands.

"I get it," he says. "Whatever you want to do here, I'll back you up. But for the record, I'm right here with you. I might be screwed to hell in ways that I can't even...but I got no doubts about you, sweetheart. And I know we could do this together..."

If that's what you want. The rest is implied through his eyes. You read it there, clear as day.

You try blinking your tears away. When that fails, you sink into Dean's warm embrace and let him hold you. You press a lingering kiss against his prickly cheek in a wordless thank you. And I love you.

For now, you know that he's with you, and he's not going to let you go.

Beau Arlen

Like Dean, Beau would go through similar rounds of Oh, dear sweet Lord, and holy shit.

He thought you and him had been careful, damn it! But, apparently he's more potent than he thought he was.

For a few moments, it's just pure unadulterated silence between you two...until he looks over at you and tries to figure out what you're thinking.

He's got a half-grown daughter, sixteen going on seventeen. He's approaching his mid-40s. He hadn't even been thinking about the possibility of another kid...at least not yet.

Though he can admit, the thought of having kids with you makes him smile.

"So, uh..." he trails, earning your teary-eyed expression. He softens. "Aw, darlin'. Come 'ere."

He wraps you up in his arms and holds you close. You bury your face into his neck and sniffle, holding onto him tightly.

You love Beau. You truly, truly do, but you don't know if you're ready for this. You had plans, things you wanted to do, things you feel you have to do.

"I don't know, Beau. I don't know what to do," you admit. You don't want to hurt him, even though you know that you are. You can see it in his eyes when you pull back to look at him, though he tries to hide it.

"I'm not going anywhere. You know that, right?" he says. His voice is low and steady. He rubs your back to try and calm you down.

It starts to work. You nod and heave a shaky sigh.

Then you steel yourself, and you work past the fear making your chest tight to ask him an important question.

"What if I tell you that I'm not ready?" you ask.

For once in his life, Beau is quiet. He takes a long beat. So long that your heart begins to break.

But he does answer.

"Then I'd tell you...that I love you," he says. "That I'm with you. That I'll be with you, come whatever. But I gotta tell you...I got no problem being an old-ass dad. If I've got double-knee replacements in my future, then that's just what I gotta do. I'll break my hand building the crib and the porch swing. Hell, I'll build a whole damn tree house."

You can't help but break into giggles through your tears, in the way only Beau manages to accomplish. You stroke his cheek and rest easier against him.

Your heart eases quite a lot just being in Beau's supportive embrace.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ben isn't all that shocked when you tell him that you're pregnant.

His surprise quickly fades into a pleased grin, and he pulls you into his lap to kiss you. Fucking finally...

But he stops short, realizing that you're not as happy as he expected you to be. Actually, you look anxious, and even scared.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice deep and direct.

You hesitate to meet his gaze, but you gain the courage to do so, resting a hand on his chest.

"Ben, I wanted to be honest with you, and so I am. I'm just...I'm not sure about this."

His brows furrow. "What's not to be sure about?"

Your gaze drops from his, making him frown. Upset begin to rise in his chest, disguised as anger. When you rise to get off his lap, he grasps your hand to stop you from walking away from him.

"Hey..." But then it hits him. The realization dawns, and deep inside, it hurts him. "You better not be saying what I think you're fucking saying."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes. Your heart clenches tight in pain just watching him work it out in his mind. You try to tug your hand out of his.

"Ben, please. Don't make this harder for me--"

He stands, but doesn't let go of you.

"What, you think I won't take care of you? You think I wouldn't take care of my own kid?" he says angrily.

"That's not it!" you say, shaking your head. "I just need some time to think, for Christ's sake!"

"What's there to think about? If you give a shit about us, about what we have? What, all of that isn't fucking good enough for you?" Ben says incredulously, gesturing at the home you two live in, and the life he thought you were happy with. "What the fuck is the problem?"

You look up at him in frustration with tears in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. You shake your head at him.

This," you say. "This is the problem."

This time, when you tug sharply against his hold, Ben actually lets you go. You walk away from him and slam the door to your bedroom.

Ben just stands there for a while. The silence is only broken when he can hear you in the bedroom, trying to muffle your weeping.

Something unsavory churns in Ben's chest, squeezing tight around his heart. It's the sting of regret, both unfamiliar and irritating.

Blowing out a sigh, Ben cards his fingers through his hair. He can either stand here like an idiot, or he can do something worthwhile.

He goes to you. You haven't locked the door (not that that would matter), so he opens it. He sees you burrowed under the covers, laying on your side away from him. You turn away from him again when he approaches.

Almost hesitantly, he sits down beside you, smoothing a hand over your hair.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have everything you need. You don't need to worry about anything," he says.

"I told you, it's not about that," you say sharply. "It's not about money, or being comfortable."

Ben endeavors to be calm. He counts to five in his mind, then he squeezes your shoulder, taking pains to be gentle.

"Then what's it about?"

After a beat, you finally turn around to face him.

"I just don't know if I'm ready for this," you admit. "We haven't been together that long, and I..."

Ben shakes his head. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

"Don't worry about that," he says. He hesitates to say anything more.

The truth is, he cares about you more than he's been willing to express. The thought of you leaving him, or even not going through with this pregnancy--both cut him down to the bone.

Is it that you don't trust him? Do you not trust yourself? He doesn't understand all of what's in your head, but if the reason you're not sure about having his kid really is because of him, then...

His curled fingers brush along your jaw and prop under your chin, until your eyes meet his.

"Look, whatever reservations you have about me, just know this," he says. "I'm not going anywhere."

You sigh softly. You know how long Ben has wanted to be a father. You know he wants a family. You don't want to take that away from him, but you also need to protect yourself.

You consider his words carefully, as well as his face, and you see that he actually means it. You believe him.

It doesn't take away other concerns you have, but it's a start.

You sit up in bed, letting the sheets slip away from you. You reach up a hand to cup his bearded cheek.

He lets you guide him down to kiss you, his arm wrapping around you strong, but noticeably gentle. Tears sting behind your closed eyelids.

Maybe he is ready to be a father, and a better man.

AN: 😮‍💨 This one was angsty, huh? I think Ben's part was the one that held me up the most. It still assumes he's had some character growth from having a "real," actually caring relationship, but I tried not to sugarcoat what I think his reaction would be.

Let me know what you think! 💜

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[unriding]

PROTECTING YOU FROM A CREEP. ft. endo & togame (separate)

in which a persistent pursuer doesn’t quite get the hint … that is, until they come face to face with your boyfriend. potential warning for implied stalking ( not by the characters ). f!reader.

sfw. similar to headcanons from my previous blog, but is not a repost!

As if any unwarranted looks your direction could ever go unnoticed by Endo.

He’s pegged you as the type of person to be much too trusting of everyone you come across since day one, now even more so from the way you didn’t even bother to question the reason behind why Endo would suddenly want to pick you up from work (though.. had he known that your shifts were adjusted to wrap up at 11 PM, he certainly would have started doing so much, much earlier).

He decides to wait just outside the back entrance of your building, clock on his phone reading 10:58 PM. It doesn’t take him long to note that the street lights in this specific lot are dim, and the area itself is practically empty. Nothing out of the ordinary considering the time, but it’s definitely not the ideal place he would like for you to be walking alone in the middle of the night.

It’s not like Endo himself is immune to your cute face or your endearing personality either, but — everything about this just rubs him the wrong way.

That stranger that only visits your work when he knows you’re working. According to your coworkers, he’s got his hands on your full schedule for the month. How that would even be possible is beyond him, your coworkers, and your own comprehension. Apparently nobody had told him your hours, but in the end, he got the information from somewhere.

He thinks this has been going on for much longer than you’ve let on.

A sudden set of footsteps catches his attention, though they’re not as heavy as he imagined they would be. The new moon tonight makes it difficult for Endo to see clearly, but from what he’s able to make out — he’s smaller than him, at least.

Not that he would have a hard time with someone who happened to outsize him.

He almost says something. He certainly would have, without a doubt, but you’ve always had a thing or two to say about him ‘starting unnecessary fights.’

So he waits. He waits and watches as the man in the hood looks as if he’s about to open his mouth to say something, but changes his mind upon noticing Endo beside the door.

Specifically, the infamous infinity on his neck. The tattoo that anyone in Makochi could recognize in a single glance — one that spells death for whoever is foolish enough to bother him, let alone his girl.

The man freezes in place. The new boyfriend you’ve been talking about was him?

Perhaps Endo’s reputation as one of the strongest still stands even years after high school has passed — especially now, with the way the stranger stares at him, completely dumbstruck.

Something bordering sadistic in Endo bubbles inside his chest. He can’t help it — not when he knows that had he not decided to come to pick you up, you would have been alone with him by now.

And now that he’s seen him up close, he doesn’t like him one bit.

“Ah, here to pick her up?” Endo cocks his head to the side. “That’d be my job, don’t you think?”

“W-Who?” He stammers, eyes narrowing into his best attempt at a glare despite the tremble of his lip. “I don’t know anyone here, man.”

He almost laughs. “Well, don’t leave so soon,” he makes his way towards him, circles him like a wolf stalks his next prey.

“What’re you doing lurking at her work place like this?” Endo stops when he’s just beside him, ‘Frank’ only a couple inches from him now, “ya little punk?”

“I’m here for the trash. I can come back tomorrow—”

“Really now..” Endo leans in, almost laughing when he retreats backwards. “Because I thought you looked awfully familiar. You’re not that guy who got a hold of my girl’s work schedule, did ya?”

His eyes go wide. “N..n—”

“Cuz a nice girl like that’s already got a boyfriend,” he checks his watch, bored. 11:01. You’d probably be double checking your things by now. “Ah.”

“Unless you’d like for her to see you passed out on the floor, of course. We could arrange that.”

“Wouldn’t you like that, you mutt?”

You really, really should have taken up Togame’s offer to pick you up.

He’s always laughed at your glare, much to your annoyance. Presses a fingertip to the skin between your brows with an amused grin, reminding that you that “such a harsh look only looks cute when it’s you, y’know.”

Only, he’s nowhere in sight and this time, you truly hope your glare doesn’t come across as cute. Your back roughly bumps into the wall with your last step away from your pursuer, hand flying up to flash your phone’s messages his way — “my favorite turtle” clear across the top of the screen.

“My boyfriend’s really big and scary, just so you know,” your voice falters, panic flashing across your eyes for a moment. “And he’s on his way. I told him all about you.”

He smiles, and a chill runs down your spine.

“Did you now? Well, he doesn’t know you like I do,” he sneers, slowly moving to close the distance between the two of you. “I could treat you better. You know I could. Just give me another chance, and I’ll prove it.”

You shake your head as hard as you can. “I said you aren’t my type,” your voice comes out quieter this time, hoping the volume masks at least some of the fear, “a lot of times. And I have a boyfriend.”

It doesn’t faze him. If anything, you think he looks amused by your efforts to turn him down.

“Did you think I didn’t know that, silly girl?” He’s closer now, enough to stretch his hand out and nearly reach you, “I really, really like girls like you. I don’t care… about your little boyfriend….”

Your eyes slam shut, back pressed against the wall and your hands hugging your purse to your chest — tightly, as if something so small could still potentially shield you from him. “Well he’s gonna b-be here, so—”

Togame. Where is Togame? Your heart pounds a thousand beats a second, eyes clenched shut harder than ever before, and you wait—

But his hand never reaches you.

There’s only a brief noise of surprise from your pursuer before it turns into something resembling pain, and your eyes flutter open.

“Jo..!”

You quickly note the faint trace of sweat along his temples, as if he had frantically searched every corner of the town before finding you. It doesn’t take you much longer to note the furrow of his brows next — the way he always does when he’s angry.

“Got yourself in a real interesting situation while I was on my way, did you now?” Togame’s grip tightens on his wrist, and he winces. His eyes flicker towards you, taking a second to make sure you’re not hurt.

He sighs in relief when you appear unharmed — aside from the slight tremble of your hands, of course, but no visible injuries. Lucky for him, he thinks, or he would have had to ask you to leave the scene.

Which leaves one thing.

“Hey… you,” the look in his eyes darkens, “what do you think you’re doing bothering her like that?”

“Cornering her against the wall …. and what was that? Tell me….” Togame lets go of his wrist, only to grab a fistful of his shirt. “Exactly what you were planning to do while I was away.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

what are leona's flaws if he has any?

Of course he has flaws, everyone—fictional and real—does. Leona’s are quite numerous and very blatantly out there in some cases, so this ask (which sort of implies he doesn’t have flaws at all) surprised me 😅 His are pretty hard to miss, no…? Of course, some of these flaws do improve over the course of the main story, but they are still largely present.

I’m not sure what prompted this question, but I hope it’s not because I somehow gave off the impression that I’m not cognizant of his flaws. I may occasionally sing the guy praises about being a good leader/big brother figure but I’d like to think that I also humble him just as much by bringing up his less savory personality traits (namely his laziness, underhandedness, and pride) and his shortcomings as a leader. I try to look at characters from all angles, regardless of how I personally feel about them overall.

That being said, there’s a slew of flaws to highlight, some of which I already mentioned earlier. Leona is:

Lazy, or, more accurately, unmotivated. If he’s not interested in it or feels he isn’t gaining something himself from acting, 9 times out of 10 Leona won’t lift a finger and/or will choose to nap instead. He frequently doesn’t even attend classes because he thinks there’s nothing they could teach him that the royal tutors haven’t. In many other cases, he ends up helping others because he’ll get something from it. For example, he may teach the first years how to properly mine magestones in his Camping Gear vignette, but only so they quiet down and he can have a quiet spot to nap.

Underhanded. He’s more focused on his desired results rather than the morality or ethics of what methods he uses to achieve those results. Lying, bending the rules, roughing up people who get in his way… Nothing’s off the table. All of book 2 basically illustrates this.

Seeking approval, often to his own detriment. This is usually framed as him wanting the crown, but it’s actually a consequence of Leona wanting to be acknowledged by others since he was without it for most of his life. These feelings lead to many self-destructive behaviors and sentiments, including the events of book 2.

Selfish and spoiled. Let’s be honest, he just is 😭 He’s often ordering others around or expecting to be waited on and not thinking about how it could inconvenience them, yet he also acts really annoyed whenever others ask him to help out with something. Leona also rarely stops to listen to others’ sides of stories, he considers his own perspective to be the most important.

Competitive. His pride is easily wounded, especially if someone claims to be stronger than him in a particular area (even if it’s an area he doesn’t necessarily care about). For example, he argued with Vil about which of them would be the ideal suitor for the Ghost Bride and has a known grudge against Malleus, a fellow prince and skilled player in his own sport of choice.

Arrogant and prideful. This goes hand-in-hand with the other traits; Leona thinks highly of himself and his skills… perhaps too much so. Because of this, he has issues yielding his command to others or even considering opinions which differ from his own. This is why he doesn’t have a vice dorm leader; he’d rather rule unquestioningly. It’s his way or the highway!

Domineering. He doesn’t ask you to do things, he tells you to do things and you obey. This happens a lot between him and Ruggie, but also with other characters and even NPCs like the pixies in Fairy Gala (when he demands water to distract them from finding Yuu and co.).

Petty. This holds true for most of the NRC boys, but I think it’s particularly the case for Leona, who tries to beat up a magicless human for accidentally steps on his tail and then bullies that same human + some extras in a sportsball game 💀 He’s also infamous for his several harsh quips against Malleus and other characters that are just there minding their own business or existing.

Needlessly aggressive (in some cases). There’s no question that Leona would prefer to use his brains before his brawn. However, there are instances in which he resorts to magic or physical strength instead of scheming or talking out a solution. For example, the aforementioned attempt to attack Yuu (a defenseless, magicless human) for an accident. Dialogue in Malleus’s dorm uniform vignettes also implies Leona intended to put his hands on Malleus after a perceived slight. In his own dorm uniform vignettes, Leona is about to unleash his UM on second year students who are stepping out of line (Jack has to intervene and beg him to stop).

Defeatist. This stands in contrast to his usual arrogance, but I’m a strong believer in the “Leona uses his arrogance to mask for his own insecurities about being second best/place his entire life” thing. If he thinks there’s no point in trying, that he won’t be acknowledged no matter how hard he tries, he simply won’t. Instead, he’ll wallow in his sorrows and lament about things out of his control (such as birth order or life not being fair)—even though choosing to act or not is in his control. He also has a tendency to deny others’ love and respect for him, almost as if he believes it’s untrue or… he doesn’t believe himself to be worthy of those feelings.

Afraid of failure. For as cocksure as Leona presents himself to the world, he has a crippling fear of failing. That’s why he’s so quick to throw in the towel in book 2; if he deflects the blame to others or raises the white flag early, he can reason with himself that he didn’t really “lose”. There’s nothing more humiliating to try so hard only to not succeed in the end… just like he has his entire life. In the light novel, Leona also expresses that he’s afraid of having hope, because that makes it so much more soul crushing when that hope amounts to nothing. I believe it’s these feelings that also shaped his UM. Why is the identity defining magic he wields destructive? Maybe because Leona himself believes that this is his fate: the prince with naught, because everything he touches turns to sand.

[blondie11067]

I think its crazy some people are dropping the show after Sinsmass/the whole Octavia thing.

I agree with the post about how complicated it is for Stolas. Also, i raise you *Child who has probably spent her whole life watching her parents NOT being a healthy couple... Or one at all*.

Now, this is important. VERY important, especially when you take in consideration that she's quite old in the middle of the divorce and her mother is an insanely manipulative narcissist. Which means, she could've not experienced half the shitty relationship it actually was and be living half a fantasy of a "happy family". Seeing how divorce can be quite difficult for children, even more if they're older and think the divorce is coming out of nowhere which makes it even harder.

Divorce is hard and it affects the relationship between child and parents regardless of how good it might be. Stolas also launched himself into a seriously unhealthy situationship he was NOT prepared for, much less capable to handle it. This divides his attention from being solely on Octavia (after it being all about her and her only) to his pet ✨BLITZY✨. So Octavia is growing up, being a teen, living in a house with parents who are NOT a couple or remotely affectionate with each other, and now this stranger is spending a lot of time with her dad (lets note that this is on Stolas, since he was the one seeking Blitz and not viceversa. For blitz it's business, transactional, his payment for 'renting' Stolas grimoire).

Then the divorce happens. Lets say whatever cause she still spends time with Stolas and he's doing pretty good (feeling better than he probably felt after years of living with Stella). Then he's so focused on his situationship and his developing feelings that he naturally shifts more focus onto Blitz. Then they break up and he's in Shambles.

Stella surely was also finding ways to keep Stolas from spending time with Octavia. So Stolas being too emotionally devastated after the break up doesn't help his lack of presence in Octavia's life.

"Why does he hate her more than he loves me?"

Octavia knows her parents don't love each other. That's probably why she does not react much to him ans Blitz at the beginning cuz "hey! At least her dsd is happy now, right?"

Still, she needs to know he loves her. And Stolas has proven to speak too much without sufficient actions to prove his words. He promises things and forgets (cuz he has his own shit to deal with. All reasonable) but his daughter needs her father.

Sadly, Stolas also dug his own grave.

"When I'm gone you'll be okay."

Stolas did not spend enough time with his daughter. A daughter who was no longer living with him. A daughter living through a divorce, a separation, and a mother who does not want her to be with Stolas.

Then he sacrificed himself for his great love!... And it cost him what he loves most, his daughter.

"And when you're gone I will be okay."

He proved to her that SHE wasn't the first thing he thought about. Not after the break up (yes, he was heartbroken but time with his beloved daughter would've been a healthy distraction and good for the both of them). Not when he risked his life, HER DADDY'S LIFE. Not when he just had his visiting rights REVOKED for 100 years.

I mean, seriously for someone who claims to love his daughter so much, he did not thought about how his actions would affect his daughter nor the fact that he would NOT SEE her for a fucking century - regardless of the fact that they're pretty much eternal.

Being there is important for a kid, for YOUR kid. When you prove to them they're not a priority, it stings. It shows them they can't count on you.

She even says it in her song,

"Was it just another lie."

"Why you lied to my face?"

"And I'll know that i was always right to doubt you."

And during such a rough time, it might just lead them to think that maybe they aren't loved.

🦉🦉🦉

Now yoy have this teen goung through all of that but, believe it or not, kids have eyes. Kids pay attention to their parents.

So she throws it back to him, how he never kept his promises, how all he did was lie, how he didn't love her as much as he loved Blitz since he ABANDONED her for him.

Octavia goes through all the drama, through all those doubts about her dad and whether or not he loves her and then... She finds a BOX full of Happy Pills!

So yes. She throws all that back to him and she blames him.... But she also blames herself.

She thinks that because of his unhappy marriage - HER parents' shitty marriage -, because of HER, Stolas was so depressed, so unhappy... That he needed ✨Happy Pills✨

"So (...) you just stayed miserable because of me?"

It's her fault his dad was miserable. He would've been better had he not stayed with his family, unhappy and forced into it.

"Was I some fucking obligation?"

She's a burden. No reason her dad left her. She was part of the reason he was miserable. Of course she'd leave her after finding happiness.

And then it all ties together with

"You lied to me once you'll lie to me again"

What goes around comes around.

"I tried so many years to make it comfortable for us; to have this family, but it was never enough. The only reason I have endured your constant insults and cruelty was for that girl to have a normal life." - Stolas S2 E1

"Also, son, you are destined to sire a precautionary addition to the Goetia family." - Paimon S2 E1

Some of you all are completely misunderstanding the second half, I am not downplaying the love Stolas has for Octavia, I am not saying that at all, what I am saying, is that Octavia is 100% going to think she was a 'obligation' when she finds out she was born to be a 'precautionary addition to the Goetia family'.

[jksarchives]

JIMIN

❖ lover to lean on — by @sketchguk

for months, you can hear your no face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. you’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course you’re bitterly single. but one day, the apartment is radio silent. and one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. so on valentine’s day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other. | 20k [a, f, s]

❖ believe it — by @writtenwhalien

When your car breaks down late at night in your hometown and the door you knock on just happens to belong to the man that was almost yours, it opens the floodgates to memories you had hoped to keep suppressed and those you’ve never forgotten about. | 28.7k [f, a, s]

❖ everybody loves somebody — by @dollfaceksj

In a world where there’s a small chance for you to contract a deadly disease the specific moment you come to the realization that the person closest to your heart will always be out of your reach, you find yourself coughing up blood stained flower petals after your best friend – and fuck buddy – Park Jimin, tells you he’s been seeing someone. | 11.7k [a, s]

❖ blooming days — by @bluekyun

A typical night for you begins at the library in your favorite chair underneath the lamp in the corner, only to be picked up at 3am by your best friend, Jimin. Despite having slept over in his room several times before, this certain night in Sigma house leads to far more than you ever imagined. But what is to come of your friendship once you reveal those two little lines that will change your lives forever? | 15.3k [f, a, s]

❖ the very last thing i decide — by @ugh-yoongi

you learn what it means to love with blood on your hands. | 12k [a, s]

❖ heartburn — by @jiminrings

you know it’d happen eventually and you’ve been preparing yourself for the impending hurt — you just don’t want it now. not now when it’s nearing jimin’s little sister’s birthday; not now when you can swear love isn’t the only thing you can put on the table. | series [a]

❖ let’s get quizzical — by @taleasnewastime

Thursday night pub quizzes with your friends are a must. One of those friends being your long-term friend, long-term crush, Park Jimin. At this point 99.9% of the population knows you have feelings towards him, Jimin being the 0.1% that doesn’t. But what happens when a bet goes wrong and your weekly quizzes become more complicated than fun? | 28.6k [a, f, s]

[misshuntereevee]

a self-indulgent little rambling about you slowly learning to let sylus pay for you because you're prideful

sylus ... likes to slip things off at your doorstep. he's learned that if you are given away to return it easily, you will. so he's decided to just not be in sight for that to happen.

sylus ... will let you put your card down at the restaurant, but he switches it out with his own at the last second with his evol

sylus ... who takes notes of the things you say you want and makes sure they end up easily accessible to you

sylus ... finding subtle ways to get rid of what debt you have without outright giving you his card ( the debt collector is suddenly out of business or has a new owner or is dead... )

sylus ... taking you shopping whenever you mention liking a new style. he also loves buying you pretty things. necklaces, bracelets, rings, gems, etc. if he thinks it'll look pretty on you, it's in his cart. (it happens way too much, and you have a special jewelry box for all the things he's gotten you. it's over flowing.)

sylus ... giving a little 'good girl' the first time you use his card without asking for permission. after all, to him, giving you the card was the permission.

[enderlovez]

Big Secret

Spencer Reid x BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 2100+

Summary: You've tried to hard to keep your daughter a secret from Spencer after her father left, but what happens when this secret finally comes to light?

Content Warning: fear of abandonment, abandonment of pregnant woman, reader gets anxiety

A/N This was requested, and I'm not to sure how I did here. There'll probably be a bunch of mistakes because I'm really tired right now.

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The first time Spencer asks if something's wrong, you almost laugh. Not because you find it funny in any sense of the world, but because there is something wrong, and you can't find it in yourself to tell him.

He's studying you with those piercing eyes, like he can read every thought you've ever had. His brow is furrowed in that way that makes him look younger than he is, and for a split second, you wonder if he really can hear your thoughts.

"You've been a little off lately," he says, the concerns in his voice too subtle for most people to notice, but you hear it. "Is... everything okay?"

You smile, forcing the curve of your lips to stay steady. "Everything's fine, Spence. Just a lot on my mind, you know?"

It's the truth. Sort of. Work is, as always, chaotic as hell. But there's something gnawing at you, something you can't make yourself say out loud.

Spencer doesn't push, but you know he's watching, waiting for you to say more on your own. That's the thing about him—he's patient, a quality you greatly admire. But when he wants something, he tends to get it.

You've had a few drinks together after work, spent quiet hours in coffee shops, talking about cases, about books, about life. You think you're starting to let yourself like him.

You think he might be starting to like you, too, even though the lines between friendship and... something more are still blurry, and you haven't yet figures out how to cross them without making a mess.

Then, of course, there is the little secret of your daughter—the very secret that keeps you up at night, wondering if you've already ruined whatever future could happen.

"Is everything really fine?" Spencer asks again, his voice a little softer now, like he's trying to coax the truth out of me without making it feel like an interrogation. It feels like one anyway.

You nod quickly, maybe a little too quickly. "Yeah. Really. Just... personal stuff."

He watches you for a beat longer, clearly not entirely convinced, but also not going to press for more. Spencer isn't like that. He respects boundaries. He respects you, in a way that makes your chest tighten every time he looks at you, like you're something he can lose if he doesn't handle you with enough care.

And maybe that's it. Maybe you're afraid of him seeing the part of you that isn't as easy to love, the part that you're still learning to love yourself.

Maybe that's why you've kept Isla a secret, but you've never mentioned her in passing conversations, or even when he asks about your life outside the job.

You want him to see you as someone who can go out for a drink after a case without having to worry about a three-year-old waiting for her mother to come home.

But that's not you. You've got Isla. You've got your little girl, and one day, Spencer's going to have to know, as terrifying as that thought is to you.

You're not ashamed of your daughter, you could never be ashamed of your little girl.

But the last man who found out about her—her own father—ran for the hills before she was even born. The thought of Spencer doing the same, of him walking away the second he finds out about Isla, has been eating away at you from the first time you went out together.

You tell yourself it's not about him being a bad guy, because he's not. Spencer's kind and thoughtful and he doesn't seem like the type of man to judge.

But it's not like you can help the fear, that he might not want a woman with a child, especially one as young as Isla. She's the center of your world, she will always come first, and you can't risk losing Spencer for the same reason you lost Isla's father.

"Are you sure?" Spencer's voice cuts through your thoughts, soft and insistent. He's still looking at you, like he's waiting for the truth to slip from your lips, like he knows it'll happen eventually. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it a little difficult to breathe. His words, so simple, so caring, somehow makes the weight on your shoulders heavier.

What would it feel like to tell him?

To let him in, to share this huge part of yourself with someone who could very well walk out of your life when he finds out?

It's easier to just nod and pretend everything's fine. It's easier to lie, to keep him at arms length, than risk him seeing who you really are—a mother, sure, but also someone who's terrified of being left again.

But Spencer doesn't deserve that. You know he doesn't deserve that, to keep wondering what's going on inside your head when he's done nothing but be there for you, day after day.

"I..." You hesitate, your breath catching in your chest. "There's something I should tell you, but it's really... it's going to complicate things."

Spencer doesn't say anything right away. He just watches you, and for a brief moment, the distance between you feels impossible to manage. You take a step forward, closing that space as best you can.

"You don't have to tell me if you're not ready to," he says finally, his voice so gentle that it almost breaks you. "You never have to feel obligated to tell me anything, I just want you to know I'm here if you wanna talk."

And right then, something shifts.

You're not entire sure what, but something deep inside wonders if maybe—just maybe—it might be time to tell him about the life you've tried to hard to keep hidden. About your precious little girl, and about her father who she's never known, and about the fears that keep you awake at night.

About the little girl who's waiting for you at home, her smile the only thing that keeps you going when everything else is so shaky.

"I have a daughter," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "She's three. Her name's Isla."

He blinks, processing, before his expression softens. He doesn't say anything at first, just watches you with (gorgeous) eyes of his that feel almost like they can see right into your soul.

You hold your breath, waiting for his reaction. You're expecting him to step away from you, to give some polite excuse and walk out the door.

But instead, he surprises you. "I'd really like to meet her, if that's something you'd be okay with."

You blink at him, feeling your heart skip a beat. "You... you would? You want to meet Isla?"

Spencer smiles, just a little, but it's blindingly bright in your eyes. "Of course, I want to meet the little girl who obviously means so much to you."

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

You stand outside your apartment door, fingers nervously playing with the strap of your bag, suddenly feeling like you're about to do something you can't undo.

Which, you are, but that doesn't stop your heart from thumping uncomfortably, or your stomach from fluttering with anxiety.

Spencer's standing beside you, his eyes scanning the hallway, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looks calm, maybe even a little curious, but you can tell he's waiting for you to make the first move, to invite him inside where everything will change.

It helps knowing that, if you happen to change your mind, he'll leave the second you ask him to.

The familiar hum of the building's old pipes is the only sound between you. You're about to let Spencer see Isla. You're about to let him into this part of your life you've kept so carefully hidden. And it is terrifying.

It's one thing to share a drink or talk about drinks. It's an entirely different thing to show another person the most vulnerable part of yourself.

The next door over swings open, and your neighbor, Maria, steps out. She looks up from her phone when she spots you, waving with the hand that's holding Isla's favorite stuffed bunny—she probably left it there at some point.

"Hey, just finished feeding her a few minutes ago," Maria says with a smile, but there's a hint of urgency in her voice as she checks her watch. "I was just 'boutta call you, gotta head out. You good here?"

You nod, forcing a smile as you take Isla's stuffed animal from Maria. "Yeah, thanks. She's been good today?"

"She's always good, she's a sweetheart," Maria says before turning on her heel, heading towards the stairs with quick steps. She glances back at you once to make sure you're alright before she's gone.

You watch her go, your breath catching in your throat as you unlock the door.

Every part of you is screaming that this isn't a good idea, that you're making a huge mistake by letting Spencer in, but you push those thoughts away as best you can, forcing yourself to step inside and gently pulling him by the sleeve of his jacket.

"Come on in," you say, trying to sound casual, but the words sound all wrong in your own ears, and they surely sound the same to Spencer.

Spencer hesitates for a moment before stepping through the doorway. The second his foot crosses the threshold, something in the air shifts, though neither of you can name what it is.

Isla's small shoes are lined up neatly by the door beside yours, and you can hear her humming softly from the living room. It's the sound of home.

Some of the anxiety fades away. It's more strange than anything to have Spencer here, where it's all real and in front of him.

You move towards the living room, trying to steady your breath. There, sitting on the floor with a coloring book spread out in front of her and a variety of markers and pencils at her side, is Isla.

Her hair's a bit messy, the way it always gets after a nap, but her wide eyes light up the moment she notices you.

"Mommy!" Isla calls, her little face breathing into a grin as she scrambles to her feet. She's barely two and a half feet tall, one of her little hands clutching her stuffed bunny tightly, the other wrapped around your legs.

You plop down on the sofa and ruffle her hair affectionately, a soft smile gracing your lips.

And then, she sees Spencer.

For a moment, Isla just stares at him, wide-eyed and quiet. Spencer's already crouched down, his hands resting gently on his knees, not moving, simply waiting for her to decide if she'll approach him or not.

You hold your breath, watching the moment unfold in real time—you've never had to share this part of your life with anyone. You've never had to share her with another person. And for a brief moment, you're more worried about how she'll react.

And then, like she's made up her mind, Isla takes a few tentative steps toward Spencer. She looks up at him, her face a picture of innocent curiosity, and before either of you can say anything, she reaches out, quickly offering him her stuffed bunny.

Oh, thank God.

Spencer looks at the bunny, then back at her, his expression softening. "Thank you," he says, his voice gentle, as it's as if a part of you clicks into place. Like he's not only accepted you, but now, he's accepting Isla, too.

He's accepting your baby, and you feel like you're going to cry.

She smiles up at him, and for a second, it feels like everything's going to be okay. He doesn't look at her like she's an obstacle, or like he doesn't know what to do.

He looks at her the way he always looks at you—with patience, and something else that you have a hard time naming.

Isla giggles, her small hand still holding the bunny, as then she shyly crawls into your lap, hiding her face against your chest.

Spencer chuckles, the sound low and warm, as he sits down beside you, observing the interaction. You rub your hand up and down Isla's back and press a firm kiss to the top of her head.

After another quiet moment, Isla crawls off you again, sitting back on the floor in front of her coloring book.

"So, uh, do you like coloring?" Spencer asks, his voice carefully light, as he looks over at Isla, who's now holding a crayon like it's the most important thing in the world.

She nods solemnly, but then grins up at him. "I like pink," she says, matter-of-factly, and then she goes back to her drawing.

Spencer's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Pink's a great color," he agrees, and you can't help but smile.

Maybe this isn't so bad after all.