#someone else starts it and I won’t lie down and take it so I fight back or call them out

[theamazingannie]

We were literally supposed to have a fun day today. Moments before the argument we were discussing the activities we were gonna do. Now we don’t get to do any of that because of male fragility

[headkiss]

steady hand

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

summary: hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: probably very inaccurate descriptions of r’s job (it’s for the plot, okay??), shy!reader, a very small injury description, yearning (?), first kiss, fluff !!!

a/n: hiiiii this is my very first hotch fic (gasp) so i hope i did okay!!! i’m excited to be writing for him and i have enjoyed it so far and i hope you will too!!! please please let me know what you think and if you’d want to see more of him from me <33

༄

People are usually impressed when you tell them you work at the BAU.

Which, you won’t lie, is something to be proud of, but their first thought is always that you’re doing something big and solving cases. They ask you if you were there when this case was solved or when that killer was caught.

Then there’s the nodding and dissipation of their excitement when you explain that you work a desk job there. Organize files, write reports, that sort of thing. That is a lot less impressive to most.

You’re no Agent Morgan, or Dr. Reid. Certainly no Agent Hotchner or Prentiss. Instead of being on the field, you spend your time fighting with a printer.

Getting the papers you needed should have been simple, a quick in and out that would have you back hiding behind your desk in minutes. Of course, the universe or something must be against you, because instead, you’ve spent at least twenty minutes trying to figure out what’s wrong.

It isn’t jammed (you’ve checked about five times to be sure) and you’re not educated in printers enough to know how to fix whatever’s going on. You’re just lucky nobody else has needed it yet.

“Come on,” you mutter, trying to pull it away from the wall to get a better look.

You’re sure there’s stress sweat building on your forehead. The last thing you want to do is ask someone for help, to make yourself too visible in this place full of important, intimidating people. You’d rather struggle on your own for now.

You make sure that the thing is plugged in (it is) and then check if it’s jammed. Again.

“Piece of shit,” you’re mumbling at the thing, leaning over it looking for anything out of place.

That’s when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. The sound has you jumping, your knuckles smacking against the wall where your hand had been wedged between it and the printer. You turn around to find Agent Hotchner.

He’d been walking by the printer room when he heard the grumbled curse words. Peeking inside, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find you fussing over the printer. He bit back a chuckle before making his presence known.

You tug your skirt down where it’d ridden up, fiddling with the hem as you try to push down your embarrassment. Of course he’d be the one to see you, in his crisp suit and all. He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely. You swallow and try not to look at his biceps.

“Sorry, sir. The printer doesn’t seem to be, um, printing.”

“I’m assuming that’s why you were fighting with it.”

You fight a wince, “you heard that?”

“Heard what?” He asks, though by the twitch of his lips, you know that he’s well aware of what you’re talking about. He then gestures at the cause of your issues behind you, “it’s not jammed, is it?”

“I don’t think so. It wasn’t when I checked, at least.”

You’re trying not to act as nervous as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever really spoken to Agent Hotchner, save for small ‘hello’s and that one time you apologized for bumping into him. He’s handsome—you’ve always thought so—and, more importantly, he’s basically your boss.

“Let me take a look,” he says, walking over. You step aside, staying out of the way.

“It’s alright,” you start as he looks over it, “I’m sure you have much more important things to do than fix a printer, sir.”

Hotch’s eyes flick over to where you stand, a hand still fiddling with the hem of your skirt, your hair a little messy, your eyes a little wide and worried. You look pretty, he thinks. And sure, he does have things he should be doing instead of trying to fix this printer, but he doesn’t really care.

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.

He looks back to the printer, and he seems pretty convinced about trying to help, so you drop it.

While he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to look at his profile. The slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched a little in focus. It’s unfair, you think, for him to be smart and brave, and be so good-looking on top of it all.

Like he’d heard your thoughts, felt your gaze, he looks over at you again. You turn your eyes toward the floor quickly.

It’s a couple of minutes before anyone speaks. You, staring at the carpet until your vision goes a little fuzzy. Hotch, pushing buttons and flicking switches trying to figure out whatever was going on with the damn printer.

Then, the sound of the ink swiping over the pages, the papers spitting from the printer. You look over at it, mouth slightly parted. What can’t he do?

The sound of your name has your eyes snapping up to his. It’s yet another surprise, him knowing your name. You’re not that important, in the grand scheme of things at the BAU, in the world, really. Someone meant to stay hidden in the background. And still, he knows your name.

“It should be fine now,” he says, grabbing your papers from the cartridge and handing them to you as he stands up straight. “Let me know if it gives you trouble again.”

You grab the pages from him slowly, still shocked at the whole exchange. Your fingers brush against his as you do. “I- Thank you, sir.”

He nods, moving towards the hall. He pauses in the doorway, turning back towards you. “Hotch is fine.”

“Sorry?”

“You keep calling me ‘sir.’ You don’t have to. Just Hotch is fine.”

“Right. Sorry, sir- I mean, Hotch,” you test it out. “Thank you again.”

Yes, Hotch thinks, he likes you saying his name a whole lot more. He sends you a kind smile, “no problem.”

Hotch walks away, probably towards his office where he has very important things to do. Stuff that was surely delayed because he paused to help you. You stare at the doorway for a minute, until you give yourself a papercut and look down at it.

Aaron Hotchner knows who you are.

-

You’re two shitty coffees deep so far, your report open on your desk, the typing bar blinking on the screen of your computer.

There’s pages to go, though you’re not sure how many. You’ve been doing the sort of mindless, robot typing you do when you’re tired. When you’re preoccupied with trying not to glance in the direction of Hotch’s office.

The team got back sometime last night, long after you’d already gone home. From somewhere in Indiana, you think. You’re not sure how they do it, flying about and still coming into the office. You’re tired and you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been on a plane. Add the crime fighting and you’d be a goner.

Blinking yourself from your thoughts, you look back at the blank pages spread out in front of you. It’s not unusual for you to be missing pieces that you need to complete things, it’s just inconvenient. You always end up having to ask someone for the files you need, and then you feel like a burden.

It’s stupid, but in a place full of important people, it’s easy to feel like you’re just in the way.

Anyway, it’s your job, so you push away from your desk and stand, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Your first thought is to go to Reid. As far as friendship goes, you’d consider yourself closest to that definition with him. He’s also the least intimidating of the bunch, probably because you see the most of yourself in him.

You find him in the kitchen with Agent Jareau, both holding their own mugs, probably filled with the same coffee as the one that sits on your desk. You knock gently on the door even though it’s open.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if either of you have the files from that case you worked a couple weeks back. The one in Ohio,” you shuffle on your feet under their gaze. “I need them for this report.”

“Hey,” Reid speaks first, smiling kindly, “I don’t remember keeping them, but I can double check in my desk if you would like.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure I’ll find them somewhere.”

You’re about to head out the door when Agent Jareau stops you, “wait, I’m pretty sure Hotch has them. I can go ask him for you.”

It’s silly to feel nervous talking to them, especially when nobody’s ever been anything but nice to you. A little bit of the twist in your gut comes undone.

“No, no. I’ll go ask him if he isn’t busy, thank you though.”

“You should be fine, the door’s open,” she tells you.

You nod, sending the both of them a smile you hope doesn’t look awkward. “Thanks again.”

Their voices picking up their conversation follow you out the door. You cross the space, saying small ‘hello’s to Agent Morgan and Agent Prentiss when they greet you. You try to ignore the prickle of eyes on you as you climb the steps and head to Hotch’s office.

His jacket is draped across the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up on his forearms. It’s probably the most disheveled you’ve ever seen him, and he’s only missing a single layer. You look away from his arms when he says your name.

Hotch had his head bent, looking over a case when he’d heard footsteps, and he’d been glad to find you standing in his doorway. You work in the same place, yet he barely sees you. That’s probably why something lightens in his chest every time he does. The rarity, that’s all.

“Is this a bad time?” You ask.

“Not at all,” he leans back in his chair, “what can I do for you?”

“I’m really sorry to bother you, sir-”

“Hotch,” he reminds gently. His voice is easy, a hum that you think would sound good no matter what he was saying.

“Right, sorry. Hotch. I was just looking for some files that I need from a case you guys had for this report.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

Then, he smiles in that way that Aaron Hotchner so often does. A small twitch of his lips, a lift in the corners. One that you probably wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t paying so much attention. One that feels sort of like a gift.

You shake your head at yourself and elaborate, “the Ohio case. Three weeks ago, I think. I asked Agent Jareau, but she said you had them, so…”

Hotch wants to reassure you, but he’s not sure how to do it without standing up and letting himself grab your hand and squeeze it the way he’d like. And he can’t do that, not when you’re already nervous. Not when he’s not sure he could hold back after one touch.

“It’s no problem,” he opens one of his drawers, flips through folders until he finds what you’re looking for.

He stands up and walks around his desk until he’s in front of you, and he lets his gaze flick over your face while he has the chance. Your eyes find his easily, and you hope he can’t hear the catch in your breath.

Aaron isn’t usually so quiet with his affections, but that’s because he’s never found himself feeling this way at work. He wishes your desk was on his way to his office, just so he’d have an excuse to stop and talk to you. He makes sure never to use your favorite mug from the cupboard, just so you’ll be more likely to have it.

Hotch clears his throat, “here they are.”

He holds up the folder between you, his hand holding it loosely, the other hanging by his side. His fingers twitch.

You’re embarrassingly distracted by his exposed forearms, eyes trailing from his hand to the skin of his arm, to the way his shirt is tight where the sleeves are rolled. Then, it’s the color of his tie today, the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows.

His hand reaching for yours is enough to erase everything else. He lifts it and places the folder in your hold for you. Your skin burns even when he pulls away.

“You alright?” He asks. Probably because you’d been staring at him like a weirdo.

Get it together.

“Yeah. Yes, sorry. Just sort of spacey today, I guess.”

When you look back to his face, there’s nothing but a sort of softness in his eyes you can’t identify. He smiles at you, and for the second time, you feel like you’ve won something.

“Is that what you needed?” He asks.

You open the folder and peek inside. You find exactly what you’d been looking for, not that you’re surprised. Hotch knew what you’d meant and you didn’t doubt that.

“It is. Thank you, Hotch,” you grin lightly when you get that part right. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“You’re not in my way.”

Hotch says the words like he’d known you needed to hear them, like he’d known what runs through your mind so often, like he can read you. He probably can, you think. He is a profiler after all.

Still, the words make your heart do a stupid little jump.

“I’ll bring them back when I’m done,” you say.

“No rush. They’ll just be going back in the drawer anyway.”

“Well, thank you again.”

“It’s no problem, really.”

Hotch watches you walk back to your desk with your head down. Looking at the folder in your hand, he thinks, at least it’s an excuse for you to come see him again.

-

Hotch isn’t in his office when you return the files.

Since you can’t thank him in person—assuming he’s off with the team somewhere saving lives—you leave a sticky note on top of the folder. You drop it on his desk and leave before you second-guess yourself and rip the note off.

You can’t help but think that the office feels sort of empty without the team there. Without Hotch there. It’s how it is most days, so you’re not sure why the absence feels so present now. You shake it off.

The day passes by, then your drive home, and the rest of your night, too. Through it all, you can’t stop wondering what Hotch is doing, wherever he is. Hoping he’s safe.

You’re certainly not expecting to see him the next day, back so soon, but you can’t say you’re upset about it. It’s a brief glance, him walking into his office, the rest of the team and their chatter following, but it’s enough to make your work seem less tiring for some reason.

It was a quick case, and Aaron was glad to at least get a couple of hours of sleep in before coming into the office. When he sits at his desk, the first thing he notices is the folder you’ve left there. The small note in your handwriting.

‘Thank you :)’

He peels the note away and folds it up. Without thinking, it ends up tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. It’s a simple piece of paper, but it’s heavy where it sits. He rubs a hand over the pocket where the note is and gets to work.

It’s not until a couple of hours later that Hotch ends up leaving his office. Conveniently, in the direction of your desk.

You’ve been burying yourself in your work, your leg bouncing nonstop, your nose inches away from the pages on your desk, your chair pushed in as close as it’ll go. You have to, because if you take a break, if you look away, your eyes will search for Hotch, and you don’t really want to think about what that means right now.

About the ache in your chest when he’s gone, the urge to go ask him a stupid question just to talk to him. It’s awful.

The pen you’re using suddenly runs out of ink, and it makes you pause long enough to feel a cramp in your hand. You sit up and huff, pulling your drawer open and digging around for another pen. Your name in Hotch’s voice has you shutting the drawer and spinning quickly.

It’s just your luck that your shirt gets caught, that the sound of the rip is too loud to play off or ignore.

“Oh gosh,” you whisper, looking down at the damage.

It’s a cheap shirt, you shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s worse than you’d expected. This is what you get for sitting so damn close. The side seam is split, and if you move too much, your bra would probably be visible.

“This is so embarrassing,” you say, holding the rip shut with one hand and holding the other on your forehead. Of course this would happen to you in front of him.

Aaron’s eyes hover where your skin had been exposed, even now that you hold your shirt shut, wondering if it’d feel as soft as it looks. He can’t even remember what he came over to do or say.

He swallows and looks at your face, “do you have another?”

You shake your head, still hiding behind your hand, “no. I really, really wish I did, though.”

“I have an extra one in my go bag. If you’d like?” He hears himself say the words, and he doesn’t regret them, necessarily, but it’s clear to him that you mess with his brain. He doesn’t think straight where you’re involved.

You peek up at him, dropping your hand to your side. “Are you sure? I could probably just use some paper clips, or something.”

“Nonsense. I’ll go get it, okay? I’ll bring it to the bathroom so you can change.”

“You don’t have to-”

Your name leaves his mouth again, gentle but firm. “I’ll grab it.”

“Okay.”

You speed-walk over to the washroom and walk in, closing the door only to block out the rest of the office, who surely noticed what just happened. You’re probably never gonna live this down.

Your overthinking doesn’t get very far, because after only a minute, Hotch is knocking on the door.

“It’s just me,” he says. ‘Just,’ like that word could ever be used to describe him. “You can just open the door a crack and I’ll pass the shirt through.”

You do as he says, tugging the door open until you can see a white dress shirt (of course) in his hand. You reach out and he hands it to you easily.

“Thank you, Hotch. I’ll wash it and give it back, I promise. Sorry for this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You can’t see his face, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I mean it.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly, closing the door.

His shirt is wrinkled from being packed in his bag, and the sleeves are long when you put it on, but it smells like him and isn’t ripped so you really can’t complain. You roll the sleeves and tuck the bottom into your pants, looking in the mirror to make sure you look at least a little bit put together.

Holy shit, you think. I’m wearing Aaron Hotchner’s shirt. What world have you been living in recently? To be interacting with him more often, to be feeling this sick skip in your heartbeat whenever you do.

You toss your ripped shirt in the garbage, look up, and huff out a breath before leaving the bathroom. You’re surprised to see Hotch still standing there.

“Oh,” you nearly bump into his chest when you walk out the door, but the warmth of his hand on your shoulder steadies you. “I didn’t know you were still there, sorry.”

“You don’t need to say sorry so much, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You’re dreaming, surely. You pinch yourself on the inside of your arm, just in case. You don’t wake up.

“I- um,” you’re fumbling for words because he’s standing there, looking at you softly, calling you ‘sweetheart’ in that voice of his.

Aaron doesn’t know where that came from, but he’s said it and it’s happened. With the way he thinks about you, how often he does, he can’t really be surprised. Besides, seeing you get flustered because of him is absolutely worth it.

“I wanted to thank you for getting those files back to me so quickly.”

Your eyes flick over to his arm, and it’s then he realizes that his hand is still on your shoulder. He pulls it away and stuffs it in his pocket. He’s probably imagining it, but he swears his palm is tingling.

You wipe your hands over your thighs, “right. It was no problem, really. I was mostly done with my report, so… Thanks for giving them to me.”

“I’m glad to be able to help,” he says. Then he walks back to his office.

You’re standing in front of the bathroom for what’s surely an odd amount of time. Even back at your desk, you can’t shake the haze you feel, a pink tint to your vision, a flutter in your gut.

You spend the rest of your day with your nose buried in the collar of Hotch’s shirt, avoiding the gazes of your coworkers around you.

Aaron spends the rest of the day thinking about how you looked in his shirt. About how you’d look in it and nothing else. He drags a hand over his face when that pops into his head.

“You good, boss?” Morgan asks from the doorway.

“I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss the knowing smirk on Morgan’s face.

-

It’s very rare that Aaron leaves work at a reasonable time. So rare that he can’t remember the last time he wasn’t the last person there.

He’s used to the late nights, the empty spaces, deserted desks. Even so, it’s nice to finish up earlier than he’d expected. He looks forward to the extra sleep he’ll get, the longer time frame to decompress.

Leaving work early already felt like a small victory for the day, and he feels like he’s won something bigger when he sees you in your car, still in the parking lot.

You’d left maybe twenty minutes before Hotch, though you’d assumed he’d be leaving hours after you like he usually does. Everything was fine, normal as you bid your goodbyes to your desk neighbors, as you rode the elevator down.

The sun has started setting, and the air gets cooler as it sinks. You fish your car keys from your bag and unlock it, getting in quickly and tossing your bag onto the passenger seat.

You like your job, sometimes you love it, even, but you look forward to going home either way. You think about the warm shower you’ll take, the shitty dinner you’ll end up eating. Your lonely plans are ruined as you twist your car key in the ignition, it sputters and doesn’t start.

“No, no. Come on,” your head falls back, you huff and take the key out.

You try again, and still, no luck. And again, and once more until you’re fed up with it and drop the keys in your lap. Your head is dropped against the steering wheel, allowing yourself a moment of dramatics from your defeat.

A knock on your window startles you upright. Your heart races for reasons other than fear when you look at who it is.

Hotch stands outside, leaning towards your window with a scrunch in his brows. When he catches your eye, he steps back from your door and gives you room to open it and step out.

You shut your car door behind you and lean your back against it, “hi.”

“Hi. Sorry to scare you, but I wanted to check that you were alright?”

“It’s okay,” your arms are folded behind your back, your hands twisting. “Um, it’s nothing, just some car troubles.”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“I guess not. It won’t start for some reason. I don’t know.” If he wasn’t standing right there, you’d probably smack yourself for how unsure you sound. “You keep catching me at the worst times, Hotch.”

He disagrees. Aaron can’t think of a time where seeing you could ever be a bad thing.

“You’re fine,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, “trust me.”

Despite the bite of the wind outside, the way he speaks warms you. He’s so honest in the way he speaks, in the sense that he sounds sure, even if it isn’t necessarily vulnerable. You don’t know how he does it.

A small smile spreads on your face before you can stop it, “okay, good. And thank you for checking on me. I’ll just call a cab and figure this out tomorrow.”

There’s no way he can let you take a cab. It’s obvious that with what he does, the things he sees, he’d rather know for sure you’d be safe getting home. But then, there’s the sort of floating feeling he has when he’s around you, one he’d like to feel for a little longer if he could.

“Let me drive you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, really. I’ll be fine.”

He ducks his head a little, catches your eye and holds you with that soft gaze of his. “Please, it’s not a problem. For my peace of mind.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, really. You’d much rather sit in a car that probably smells like him than in the back of a cab that smells like sweat.

“For your peace of mind, then. That’d be great.”

You grab your bag from your car before following Aaron to his, where he opens the passenger door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before shutting it. He jogs around the front of his car and gets in.

“Where am I taking you?” He asks, starting his car. The radio hums softly through the speakers, and Hotch reaches over to turn on the heating when he catches you shivering a little.

You tell him your address, “you don’t have to drive me if it’s out of your way, Hotch. I mean it.”

“It isn’t out of my way,” he assures you, and he could easily be lying, but you accept it anyway.

It’s quiet for a little bit, besides the odd question from Aaron for which way to turn. You take the chance to look at him as he drives, his hands on the wheel, the street lights hitting his face. Your head lulls against the seat.

“You’re finished earlier than usual today,” you say. “Not that I know your schedule, or anything, I just-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, a smile spreading. It’s wider than what you’ve seen at work, unguarded enough to show his teeth. It’s really pretty. “It’s alright. It’s work I can be doing at home.”

“That’s good. A change of scenery, at least.”

“Exactly.”

You’re not sure what it is that feels different now, in the car. Maybe it’s because it’s only you and him, no prying eyes in the office, no concerns about what this is, what’s allowed. It might only be you, that feels this sort of spark with him, fizzing i’m the air between you. Either way, you’ll soak it up for the duration of the ride to yours.

Maybe that’s why you’re saying, “you know, I always thought you didn’t even know who I was. Until the printer thing.”

Aaron peeks over at you, leaned in his passenger seat. You look like you belong there, like there’s always been a spot for you in his life. Even when you’d started at the BAU, when he first saw you, he felt like it was right that you were there.

Hell, he’d asked Garcia who you were and has had your name in the back of his head since.

“I’ve always liked you,” he admits. He doesn’t say he’s always known you. Liked.

“Really?” You can’t help but ask. Someone like him even noticing you seemed unfathomable. But liking you? He’s gotta be lying.

“Really. Even when you were bumping into me.”

“You remember that?”

“Yeah, I do. You were looking down at the ground, walking like you were being timed. And you had on this light pink sweater.”

Your eyes go wide, focused on his face. You had been wearing a light pink sweater that day. And he remembers all of that? You think, if you looked at yourself in the mirror right now, your eyes would be in the shape of hearts, pulsing in your pupils.

“I can’t believe you noticed all of that.”

“I notice a lot of things,” he says.

Aaron has always had his guard up around new people, has always made himself more serious at work than anywhere else. Then you came along and he had to fight to keep things that way. It makes sense that the minute he sees you outside of work his walls would crumble to dust.

It was inevitable, really.

“I’ve always liked you, too.” Then, before he can say anything, you point at your building, “it’s this one here.”

The car rolls to a stop slowly, his turn signal flashing as he pulls over by the entrance of your apartment building. He puts the car in park and turns to you fully.

“Thank you for driving me.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out before he can really think about it, fingertips featherlight over your cheekbone, sliding over to tuck your hair behind your ear. Then, like it was never there, he pulls back. There’s a glow in his fingers where they’d brushed your skin, golden.

It matches the one you feel on your cheek, sparkling.

“Get in safe, okay?”

“It’s a few feet from here to the front door, Hotch. I’ll be alright.”

He huffs softly, twin smiles on your faces. Lovesick and shy, nervous and pink-hazed all at once.

“For my peace of mind,” he says.

“Fine, then. Your peace of mind,” you reach for the door handle, tugging it and pushing the door open. You look at Hotch again, like you can’t get yourself to stop. “Thanks again.”

“See you, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

You step out and head to your door, turning around before walking inside to give him a wave. Aaron grins and waves back, watching you walk inside.

He stays parked by the curb until he sees a light flick on a couple of floors up.

-

+1

There’s a reason that Hotch is Unit Chief. He thinks quickly, keeps his head straight even with what he deals with every day. There’s also a reason his leadership has been questioned before, but never revoked.

He can be reckless, throwing himself into situations when he knows he probably should’ve waited for backup. This time, it only got him a split eyebrow and a few stitches. It’s been worse; this is nothing.

It is, however, proving to be an inconvenience. He’d gotten stitched up in the ER of whatever hospital was closest to where the team had caught their unsub. It had to be quick, from the hospital straight to the jet.

They’d told him to clean it up again and put a new bandage on it when he got back, which is what he’s trying to do now, in his office, with his laptop’s grainy camera as a mirror. He has the supplies the hospital gave him on his desk, but he can’t really see what he’s doing, and the task is taking much longer than he’d like.

His hands are a little shaky from the adrenaline of his day, and every time his arm comes up to reach his stitches, it blocks his view.

Then, he sees you walking up to his office.

Usually, you’d already be home by now, but you’d been yourself and messed up some of your paperwork, so you had to stay late to re-do it. When you catch sight of Hotch in his office, you’re not so annoyed with yourself.

You notice the things on his desk, the blood on the front of his shirt. Your feet carry you to his doorway easily. Last time you’d really spoken to him was that night in his car, and ever since, there’s been something boiling, a noticeable shift.

You tap your knuckles on his open door twice, “you okay?”

He gives up on dealing with his cut and looks at you instead, the slightly rumpled state of your clothes from a long day, the smile you wear that doesn’t exactly hide the concern in your eyes, the light from the hallway a halo around you. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m alright. Just can't seem to do this right,” he says, gesturing to his eyebrow.

“Do you need help?”

Aaron has never been one to accept help easily, always one to do things on his own. But, when you’re offering so sweetly, when your help means your hands on his skin, how could he ever say no?

“That would be great.”

He pushes his chair back to give you room to stand in front of him. Your legs between his, leaning against the edge of his desk. His knees bump into the sides of your legs, little bursts of the kind of warmth sunlight emits on skin.

You reach for the wipes first, holding them in one hand and reaching up to his eyebrow, the other grasping his chin gently to keep his head steady.

His hand reaches up to hold your elbow. It could so easily be innocent, be almost nothing, but it feels like more. His thumb running back and forth, your face close enough to his to have your breaths mingling. It really feels like more.

“You’re here late,” he says, low and quiet.

“Spilled coffee all over my work. Had to start over. Can you believe it?” You speak just as quietly, eyes flicking from his cut down to his, just for a second.

“I can, actually. You’re sort of clumsy.”

“Hey!” He’s right, of course, but the warm chuckle he lets out is worth your dramatic gasp.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he assures you, squeezing your elbow. “I think it’s cute.”

“Well, thank you, then.”

You set the wipe aside and reach for the bandage next, placing it over his eyebrow and smoothing down the edges with a light touch. When you’re done, you pull back but don’t go far. Your hands fall from his face to grasp the edge of his desk instead.

“All done,” you say.

Aaron’s hands have shifted to your waist. His touch is so delicate, but you’d never ignore it. It might as well be bruising, the way his hands affect you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Hotch.”

Now would be the time to walk out the door, to say ‘goodnight’ and head home, but you’re in no hurry. Not when his eyes are shining in the dimmed light of his office, soft and practically melting.

They seem to beckon you closer, and though you don’t have a reason this time, your face ends up near his, noses almost touching. It’s as far as you go, afraid you’re misreading things, afraid you’ll be wrong about this.

Hotch closes the space for you.

His chin tilts up, his mouth catching yours softly at first. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips slightly chapped and completely perfect against yours.

You think your knees might buckle, so you put your hands on his shoulders, thumbs digging into his skin, like you’re trying to make sure he’s real. You’re not sure how you manage to kiss him back but you do, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes when you push back.

The kiss doesn’t deepen, but it doesn’t have to. You can feel plenty in it already.

It’s not long before Hotch pulls away, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head to look up at you. He removes one of your hands from his shoulder and holds it in his.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” he says, his thumb running over your knuckles.

You look down at your feet, at his legs next to yours. The hand still on his shoulder falls to your side, suddenly feeling nervous.

“You’re right, I’m so-”

“But,” he stops your apology before you can say it. As if you’d ever need to apologize for kissing him. “I’d like to take you to dinner sometime. If you’d want that.”

You look back at his face, eyes searching. He smiles so softly at you, it’s the kind of smile you could only ever give someone you like in this way. Someone you like enough to kiss.

“I’d really like that, Hotch.”

“Good,” he stands, but his hands don’t leave you. “And sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Call me Aaron.”

When you test it out, he’s sure of it; his name on your lips is his absolute favorite sound.

༄

thank you so much for reading!!! please please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, it helps a whole bunch more than you’d think and would mean a lot!! <3

[kkayyerr]

Go ahead and cry, little girl.

Summary: No matter how many times you had to try and leave your relationship with Rafe behind, you always seemed to find your way back to him and it’s getting annoying. This time Rafe would make sure that you won’t leave him again. Ever.

Words count: 1,7k

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, mean!Rafe, slight dom! Rafe, NSFW, smut, dark themes, daddy issues, family issues, abusive family, daddy kink, drugging, drug abuse, dub-con, overstimulation, orgasm denial, dumbification, slight dacryphillia.

You were sitting in your room, tears flushing down your face as you heard your father’s car leaving the driveway again. It had been happening every time when you and him had some sort of disagreement. Instead of talking about it and regulate his feelings he would just leave, abandoning you. Your face was puffy and gaze became even more blurry as your eyes saw the hit mark that he had left on your face, even though he promised you that he would never lay his hand on you ever again.

You knew that it was a lie, but for some reason you wanted to at least try and believe him.

Well, that was a big mistake.

When you made a decision about breaking up with your now ex boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, you had nowhere to go, but to your house, that was the same place that Rafe had saved you from.

Rafe Cameron was a great boyfriend, until he started losing his shit completely.

All those paranoidal thoughts and aggressive behaviors made you make a decision that you didn’t wanted to make at all. You had to leave before the cycle will repeat itself and you would end up in your mother’s place.

But still you had to admit, that he was the only one, who could’ve take care of you properly.

Who could’ve kiss you properly.

Who could’ve calm you down properly.

Who could’ve fuck you senseless properly.

You couldn’t help yourself but needing him, especially after every fight with your father, when you were feeling like a lost little girl, looking out for her daddy.

You put yourself together and put on that dress that you knew he liked the most, those pink tight dress that he had bought you right before your break up. Then you had put those little white bows in your hair, making yourself look all sweet and innocent, which you knew would make him forget about the way you had left him behind, even if that would be only for one night.

Soon enough you were standing there, at the Tannyhill’s door, praying that Rafe would be the one to open the door, and not someone else.

You rang the bell, feeling how your knees became weaker just because of the thoughts of him, his hands around your tired body, that was exhausted from all the sobbing.

It didn’t took him too long to open the door.

He would’ve lie if he would’ve said that he didn’t expect to see you standing there, all cute and trembling.

The corners of his lips tugged into small smile, he wanted to play pretend a little bit, made you feel yourself at least a bit guilty because of your previous behavior.

„Can I help you, mrs. independent?”

He asked mockingly, seeing you in that state, your face puffy and your eyes swollen made him feel some odd type of satisfaction. He knew that you were nothing without him, that you would crawl back just as fast you had left.

„It’s dad…again."

Your voice were quiet, but he had heard you loud and clear. Actually, he knew what probably had happened just after taking one look at you. That little outfit…

You were trying so bad to let him knew what you needed now without saying it.

Daddy.

Oh, you wicked little shit.

„C’mere.”

He said, quickly letting you inside and closing the door behind you. Locking the door.

Rafe gently pulled you closer, feeling how shaky you were and that almost made him smirk.

You were down bad and for some reasons it felt so good, knowing that this was the state that you would end up every time when you would leave him.

But you won’t leave him anymore, he would take a good care of that tonight.

„What do you need, baby?”

His fingers softly grabbed your chin, making you look at him. Rafe knew that you hated to talk about that out loud, admitting that you needed him out loud was so embarrassing to you, that one time you almost started crying, speaking about that.

„Use your words.”

Rafe demanded, looking you straight into the eyes, seeing how desperate you actually were right now. The thoughts of you needing him that much were not only amusing, but also arousing.

Fuck, you were so needy.

„Need you, Rafe”

You murmured, looking down because of the feeling of slight humiliation. But you also couldn’t denied the fact that you felt how your pussy is became wet, just thinking of how vulnerable you were right now. Sometimes you liked when he would take advantage of that, sometimes you liked him being mean to you.

„Sorry, didn’t quite catch that, who do you need?”

You knew what exactly did he wanted to hear.

Pervert.

„Daddy. Need you, daddy.”

Finally, Rafe was satisfied with your answer. His lips curled into the smirk, and his eyes darkened just for a moment. Then an expression of the fake empathy showed up, completely fooling your little lost mind.

„Do you want daddy to make you something to drink? Warm milk, perhaps?”

You nodded. For some reason, his care and his presence were the only two things that helped you calm down every time when you had a fight with your father. Even though mentally you were a grown girl, you liked how he treated you like nothing more but a little girl, you liked those moments when he would infantilize you even more.

Slowly you approached the couch and set down there, waiting for your drink, you haven’t even been paying attention to what he was doing in the kitchen, you knew that he had always knew better than you.

Rafe came back a few minutes later with a pink sippy cup in his hands, that he had bought for the special occasion when you wanted to feel…taken care of, as he would called it.

„Drink it all up, baby“

You took it with both hands a started drinking.

And the taste felt funny…

Something felt off, but you couldn’t tell what or maybe just didn’t wanted to tell exactly what was wrong with it. Warm milk slowly filled your empty stomach, and you felt comfort, just as it had happened every time before, but the comfort was strange. You felt how your thoughts started to quiet down.

„Thank you!”

You said, but your words came out different, echoed.

Rafe take an empty cup from your hands and then ruffled your hair gently, giving you a sly smile. You didn’t know what, but you could’ve tell that something was definitely weird about the whole situation right now.

Something about his behavior made your stomach twitch, as you felt a slight wave of anxiety washing over you.

„Listen, I have to…”

Just as you stood up from the couch you felt that your knees became much weaker, you almost felt to the ground but the pair of strong hands catch you by your waist, not letting you lose your consciousness just yet.

„Not so fast, baby. You think that you can just throw me away like a trash again?”

You tried to focus your gaze on Rafe’s face, but everything around you seemed so blurred, and your hearing was also slightly damaged. You gave him a quiet whimper as the answer to his question.

„Oh, I love when you’re get so quiet. Sadly, Ketamine’s effect isn’t forever.”

You could’ve guessed that his tone was mocking, but you were more busy figuring out how to at least start talking again.

His grip on your waist tightened, as your body now was almost fully in his hands, because you clearly couldn’t stand on your own.

„What? Don’t wanna me to leave you now? Huh?”

You quickly shook your head, the last pieces of your clear mind understood that you would probably end up dead if he would left you on the street right now, or anywhere beside the house.

„That’s what I thought."

He picked you up so easily, as if you weighed nothing. You didn’t even had to have a clear gaze to know where he was taking you right now.

Upstairs.

Room.

Locked doors.

Your body was put down in his bed, as he slowly were taking your clothes off. You weren’t protesting at all, maybe because you couldn’t, or maybe because you didn’t wanted too.

Little pink dress was now laying on the floor, you were left naked with only white bows in your messy hair.

„Want Daddy to make you feel good baby?”

Rafe asked, and you nodded.

Your whole body was shaking. It might’ve been a drug affect, but it also might’ve been the overstimulation that you felt.

Rafe’s fingers slowly started to play with your swollen clit. He didn’t even had given you any time to prepare yourself, as his two fingers now where already teasing your overly sensitive clit with the full force. He used you like a musician would use his instrument, listening to all that cute noises.

You bit your lip, trying to find strength not to sound way too pathetic right now, but with every try you were failing even more, as his touches got even rougher.

„Mhm”

You whimpered, one of your hands covering your mouth to give you at least some sense of control in that situation. You didn’t wanted to give him satisfaction by letting him know how much you were enjoying this.

„Wanna cum, baby? Already shakin’?”

You gave him a quick nod, and suddenly his fingers stopped just a few seconds before you could’ve get your relief. You gave him a glossy stare, trying to non-verbally ask him to go on.

„Beg for it.”

Your mouth betrayed you, when instead of a proper „please“ came out a the desperate whimper. You shook your head, trying again, and then again, but all your tries were miserable. You sounded like a pathetic puppy, trying to get at least crumbs of attention from it’s owner.

„Too bad, baby. Guess I’ll come back in the morning and we would go on from that moment. If you would ask me nicely, of course.”

Rafe teased, seeing how tears flushed down your red cheeks. He leaned down and gave you a forehead kiss one last time, before standing up from the bed and leaving the room. He then left you completely alone.

Overstimulated, crying and drugged.

Maybe you shouldn’t had left him in the first place…

Author’s note: Yeah, guys, that’s was pretty dark…

[soxcietyy]

Uhuh, I got it, maybe everyone being surprised when yuta deals with you being a crybaby

Like maybe you have a reputation for being a cry baby. A scrap your crying a sad movie crying you store ran out of your favorite drink you holding back tears while telling the clerk "no it's ok"

I imagine this being modern au but do as you want 🤣

Alright alright I think I got it🧍‍♀️

Nobody is surprised when you start crying. You were known to be such a sensitive person and nobody blamed you for it. The jujitsu world was harsh but you tend to cry over the smallest things. That being a sad movie, seeing old people eat alone, seeing stay animals on the streets and worst. Your friends where so used to it that sometimes they watched you cry or waited for Yuta to come along and console you. They’ve never seen it really happen though. Usually they would leave the two of you behind and go on with there mission/day.

Then Yuta had to suddenly leave to Africa and well you were a mess. They had absolutely no idea on how to deal with you. Maki would try to make you feel better by being positive.

"We’ll look at the bright side you saved yourself twenty bucks." Maki said as the both of you watched a 13 year old take the last makeup product you were really looking forward too. It was trending all over Japan and you were dying to get your hands on it. You had to wait for pay day to come in so you could get your hands on it though.

You turned to look at Maki with eyes already watering.

"But I wanted it for days now! What’s a kid going to do with makeup?" Tears start to roll down.

Maki looked at you and then the little girl contemplating the solution in her head."Fine, I’ll fight the little twerp." Maki said pulling her sleeves up.

You quickly grab your arm and shake your head telling her it was fine. Maki panicked not wanting to cause a scene in the store. She then patted your back and continued to say more positive things but nothing seemed to work. At the end you both went home as you cried.

Panda and Inumaki tend to try to make you laugh. As you guessed it doesn’t work. It seemed like everything they’ve done has failed.

Then the next year rolled around and Maki would pray that someone would be able to put up with you. That also didn’t happen sadly. The first time they witnessed you cry was over your Ice cream that fell onto the ground. They all looked shocked and looked at the second years for help.

Today you decided to cry over a failed test grade. You held the paper in your hands as you looked at the biggest 69 smacked on the paper. Gojo made sure to emphasize that you failed by putting a crying cat sticker on it.

Panda turned to see your eyes watering. He slowly turned his paper around to hide his passing grade. "It’s okay y/n I also failed."

You look up at him with such a sad face. "You’re the worst liar!" You cry harder. Everyone knew panda was one of the smartest. Before Maki could even step in to try to help out she was stopped by a hand. They all looked to see it was Yuta who was back. Panda wanted to yell that he was here but Maki punched him in the arm. It was a blessing that Yuta came back early from his trip. She didn’t have to worry about you anymore.

He came in from behind you and gave you a tight hug. Trying to keep your hairs away from your face at the same time.

"Wow y/n you almost passed! You’ve improved so much since I left." Yuta said as he looked at your paper with tear drops all over it. "I already took this test when I was abroad and flunked it. (Biggest lie ever) Do you think we could study together so we can score higher?" Yuta asks looking at you for approval.

You give him a small nod as you wipe your face. you didn’t know who you were talking to but you were okay with studying with someone else. "No more crying okay? You won’t be able to see what you got wrong while we go over it." He pulled a tissue from his pocket and wiped your face. He tends to always carry tissue because of you and well it comes in handy. Maki almost jumped out of her seat when she saw you stopped crying.

You finally look at him with red eyes. Then your eyes widen when you noticed who it was."Since when you were back? You where gone for so long and- and I was so sa" You say as tears started to roll down again not being able to finish your sentence. He laughs and hug you tighter than last time.

"I just got back! No more crying y/n, if you stop crying we can go get that makeup product you kept writing to me about." He says as he pats your head.

"About that, it’s pretty much sold out everywhere." Maki said

"Then we’ll just preorder it, or wait till it drops again. It’s not gone forever, for the mean time we can try out new products." Yuta said as he held you. You were still crying but not because of the grade or the product. It was because of how much you missed him and he understood that. He was going to make sure to spend the whole day with you no matter what.

Really short and sweet :)

[freyito]

Could I request the Lin Kuei trio and Syzoth with a male reader that just has the prettiest puppy-dog eyes ever?

Like, he doesn't even have to try to beg for anything because he simply has to look up at someone with slightly pleading expression and then before anyone knows anything they're just giving into him because his eyes are so hghnwejh

✭ pairing(s): bi-han [sub zero], kuai liang [scorpion], tomas vrbada [smoke], syzoth [reptile], kenshi takahashi (seperate) x m!reader

✧ a/n: if i could get anything i wanted just by staring at someone i think i would be rich (would have more miku figures)

🗒 cw: male reader (but i barely use gendered terms), just fluff :), bonus character, proofread

✎ wc: 1.7k

ʜᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴀ�� ɴᴏ…

⎯ Bi-Han

Bi-Han is prone to spoiling you, it’s no secret. Even amongst the Lin Kuei, they know that you, specifically, are his weak spot. He might be the strictest man in the world to their eyes, but he’s putty in your hands. Usually.

You and Bi-Han haven’t had a date in a while, he was busy with the Lin Kuei, and you could tell he was starting to get more and more stressed out. So you’ve essentially dragged him on a date, a nice little bakery in town that serves decadent desserts.

He insists on some place else, just a walk will do. But you beg and beg, and plead, it has some of the best chocolate cake, you know he’s a big sweets person deep down. And he pushes back. Not because he doesn’t want to go with you, but because he’s just too stubborn.

So, you have no choice but to use your trump card. He can see the gears turning in your head and he does his best to fight against it, but it’s too late. You give him a look with big ol’ eyes, almost quivering your lip. You watch his resolve crack, and shatter. Victory in hand, you drag Bi-Han to the bakery. And as much as he tries to be dismissive about it, you can tell he actually appreciates it.

He may act all tough, seem unphased, but you have him wrapped around your finger. He always tries to play it off, the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei cannot show any weakness. And god forbid he enjoys ‘cute’ things… but you are the exception. You don’t even need to plead, or beg, because he’s at your beck and call. The puppy eyes are just the cherry on top, he can never, and will never say no to them.

⎯ Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang likes to think he’s impenetrable. He believes he won’t fall for your puppy eyes time and time again, which is always a lie. Case in point: you were trying to get him to spend more time with you. Why? You were just feeling clingy.

And of course he tries to push back. It’s not that he doesn’t want to spend time with you, it’s the fact that building the Shirai Ryu takes a lot of time and effort. Although, he does seem to agree that he has been neglecting time with you. So, he’s convinced eventually.

It’s not the date that forces you to use your secret weapon, rather, where you are at. After much planning and scrambling to find a time that fits his schedule, you two are off to see a film. It isn’t necessarily his favorite choice, and it feels a bit cheesy to him, but he can look past it. What matters to him is the time with you.

After the movie, you find a photobooth. It may be silly and a bit childish, but when was the last time you had a physical picture with Kuai Liang? Never! So of course you bug him to get in it with you. He pushes back, he believes there’s no reason for it. It’s not like he has a scrapbook. But you don’t need a scrapbook for a little photo strip of you and him! After a bit of back and forth, you’re starting to feel like you’re losing.

No warning, no escape. You tug on his arm to pull him on, giving him a pleading look he just can’t say no to. Begrudgingly, he joins you in the booth. The photos come out cute… in a way. Kuai Liang doesn’t exactly look too thrilled in any of the pictures, but he clearly plays along with whatever pose you chose. If you try to make a heart with your hand, he’ll complete it, if you kiss him, he’ll lean into it. He tries not to come off as too annoyed, because secretly, he kind of likes this childish kind of stuff. It isn’t something he got to do a lot when he was younger, as the Grandmaster’s son, he didn’t get much free time. Training and the like.

⎯ Tomas Vrbada

Now, Tomas could never say no to you. He’s not weak-willed, but when it comes to you, you always get through to him. Anything you want? It’s yours. Ignore the fly that flies out of his wallet. You wanna spend time with him? Of course! Let him just clear his schedule real quick.

However, you two don’t get to enjoy a lot of city dates that much. Normally, you two just settle at Madame Bo’s, which is always a nice time. But both of you are starting to get restless. You plan a night out on the town, a nice little dinner, and ending at an arcade.

The date goes wonderfully, it’s a peaceful night, and both of you are able to unwind. Given the stress of building the Shirai Ryu and training new recruits, it’s clear that Tomas needed a night out. Or a week out. A month, even. But that was an issue for another day. What mattered the most now was the arcade!

You spend hours there, jumping from machine to machine, scrounging for tickets. You have your sights set on a massive bear plush. Why? You can’t help but think it looks like Tomas… and you’ll be damned if you’d pass up on that. You’re determined, beyond so, but you’re about…. 4,000 tickets short. And it’s late. You start to give up on your goal.

So, you turn to your boyfriend with a defeated look, and he doesn’t even give you two seconds before he’s working overtime. Truthfully, he doesn’t see the resemblance, but if you’re so hellbent on it… he is too! And he can’t stand to see his pretty boy so dejected. You will walk out of this arcade with that bear in his arms, he makes sure of it. In record time, he manages to scrounge up the 4,000 tickets, and an extra 500 for some probably stale candy, as well. Needless to say, you walk outside of the arcade and end the night with the bear in your hands, your boyfriend following behind happily.

⎯ Syzoth

With Syzoth, it is a war of the gods. You have to use your power sparingly, and you have to be prepared to get it back tenfold. But you're resilient, so you can take it. You’re sure of it. And he has a massive soft spot for you, of course he does. So no matter how long you two stare into each other's eyes, no matter how big and sparkly you try to make your eyes look, he always gives in.

Right now, you are certain you can get through to him without weaponizing your eyes. You’ve just found a stray kitten, it’s all scraggly and wet and probably abandoned and most definitely infested with fleas. And you can’t help but want to keep it. You can and will take care of it, you swear!

Even the kitten is pleading its case, mewing and staring at Syzoth with big, brown eyes that just scream ‘take me home’. And he tries to turn away and close his eyes. He’s stubborn, for sure. And if this cute little kitten can’t get through to him… maybe you can?

And so, you huff, waiting for him to turn back towards you. You can look at him like this all day if you need to, this kitten is in clear need of a home and you weren’t just going to leave it behind. You pout slightly, your eyes water a bit, and finally, he turns around.

Of course, Syzoth doesn’t allow you an easy win. He gives you the same energy back, sighs and says it will cost a lot of money. You don’t give up, and clearly this kitten hasn’t either. The air is tense, you and your boyfriend stare into eachothers eyes for what feels like an eternity, the kitten mewls and does its best to join in. Ultimately, you win. It’s two against one, and Syzoth just can’t say no.

⎯ [Bonus!] Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi has been a busy man these days, caught up with the OIA, still dealing with the remnants of his past, it’s hard for him to keep up. He works long hours at the office, sometimes coming home well into the night when you are asleep. Of course he feels guilty for this, and he does his best to get time off, but not everything works in his favor.

Considering his lack of eyesight, he says he’s immune to you. Which is only partially true. He picks up on that little breath you take when you pout, the way you shuffle to look up at him, so he knows your routine. But you know his, too. You’ve picked up on the fact that he’s incredibly susceptible to you with Sento around, given the fact that he can actually see you.

You wait all night for him to come home, you’re beyond tired. It’s hard to keep your head up, or your eyes open, but you sit in the living room, anxious and waiting. Kenshi’s first move when he gets home is to always put Sento away, which involves him grabbing it, which means he can see you. For even a split second. So when the door opens, you’re on him.

He asks why you’re up so late, hand slowly reaching back into the case that is slung over his shoulder to grab Sento. The moment his fingers back contact with the sheathe, you look up at him and pout and plead, hands clasped together, begging him to spend more time with you. The instant he sees your face, he lets go of Sento, shaking his head slightly.

He tells you that he does his best, and he swears he will spend more time with you, but he cannot give you a day or time set in stone. He can’t take another second of your face, because it makes his heart hurt and it makes him feel guilty… which he was already feeling beforehand. However, Kenshi surprises you the next week with two days off, a nice day out with a fancy dinner, and a day in where you’re cuddled up against him while he plays with your hair.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[p0ckykiss]

every second is a highlight - lee heeseung

summary -> heeseung's always had a soft spot for you. it takes a little while longer for him to realise that it's actually something more.

genre -> fem!reader x heeseung, fluff, idiots in love, don't realise they like each other, tiny hints of angst

heeseung swirls the drink in his hand as he waits outside. he didn’t think things through, acted on impulse when he’d seen the flood of messages after his work. this is the only solution he could come up with, wanting to cheer his friend up. heeseung sighs softly, looking down at the melting drink. the tips of his fingers are frozen but he bears the tingling. he switches over, blowing hot air to keep himself warm.

it’s worth it though.

you come out of his building, beaming smile as you spot heeseung by the stairs. if it hadn’t been for the brick wall beside him, heeseung's sure he would’ve dropped the drink. all of a sudden, you run to him, enveloping heeseung in your arms. there’s a lot of squealing in his ear, but he pays it no mind. it’s normal with you and over the years, heeseung can say that he’s immune. he’s aware of the co-workers staring at them, so heeseung pulls away hesitantly. it doesn’t affect you, though. you intertwine your fingers, waving to the others before tugging heeseung away.

“you came all the way to give me my favourite drink?” you ask in between sips. “you didn’t have to, you know. i always rant about work.”

“how often do you end up in a fight with your superior?” heeseung rolls his eyes. you offer a sip of your drink then and without hesitation, he takes a greedy sip.

“ya, that’s like half the drink.” you scoff, grumbling under your breath. “you could’ve gotten your own.”

heeseung doesn’t like any of those drinks though. he doesn’t want to say no to you when you're offering sips of your own. can’t watch your crestfallen face upon rejection. he wonders how long he’ll be able to pull that off for.

“it tastes better.” heeseung grins through his lie. “maybe because it’s yours?”

even though teasing you is a second nature to him now, it goes both ways. heeseung has lost count of the number of times he’s caught you stealing his hidden gummies in the kitchen. he’s come to the decision of stocking that cupboard with all of your favorite snacks. because you love taking them away.

there’s a tug on heeseung's fingers and he realizes you are trying to point out to something. he’d forgotten you were holding hands. the cold from earlier has dissipated, the searing warmth from you is all that he can feel. heeseung keeps a tight hold, not wanting to let go.

“what is it?” heeseung squints.

“can we get some food?” you point to the shop by the road. “i skipped lunch.”

“you told me you ate lunch.” heeseung furrows his eyebrows. he remembers asking earlier and you had confirmed that you did. you've been so busy with work, heeseung has to make sure to remind you during the day.

“before you get mad at me, i was on my way to get lunch. but then, someone needed my help.” you mumble. “i would’ve assigned it to someone else. if only anyone else could do it.”

“i’m dropping by your work tomorrow. we’re eating lunch together.” heeseung sighs, walking towards their new destination.

“no, you won’t. hee, your work is twenty minutes away. by the time you reach me, you’ll lose half your lunch. there’s not enough left for you to return.” you shake your head. “i promise i won’t do it again. just this one time.”

it’s never one time, but heeseung lets it go. butting heads with you about this ends up with you both going in circles. maybe he’ll start organising a weekly meal plan for you both.

“oh, y/n, you’re back!” the elderly woman running the shop greets you first, smiling brightly. “you told me you were going to come last week.”

“i know, i’m really, really sorry. work has me busy.” you apologize. “i promise to eat whatever you recommend today.”

heeseung looks between the two, wondering how often you end up coming here during work hours or after.

“did you bring your boyfriend today?” the owner glances at heeseung. “i hope you’ve been taking care of y/n. she spends too much time working.”

the tips of your ears turn red and heeseung chuckles at your flustered state. he’s not sure if the reaction is about the insinuation of you being together or you over-working.

despite the craving to let you suffer a little longer, heeseung chooses to come to the rescue.

“i’m her good friend, heeseung. we grew up together.” heeseung introduces himself. “i’m trying to keep an eye on her but she likes lying about when she’s eating.”

“it was just today!” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest.

the owner laughs, shaking her head. “let’s go. there’s some empty seats on the other side.”

as soon as you sit down, heeseung notices you shiver. you rub your hands, hoping to generate some heat. your blue coat clearly not enough to keep you warm. heeseung pulls over his jacket, thrusting it in your hands. you look confused for a moment before shaking your head.

“i’ll be fine once i eat.” you push it back towards heeseung.

“you’re shivering. don’t make me zip you up.” heeseung threatens. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. you tend to stubborn about your own wellbeing, choosing to sacrifice it for some silly reasoning.

“won’t you be cold?” you frown. “what if you get sick?”

“living with you for so long has me prepared for your lack of foresight. i have another jacket.” heeseung quips, ignoring your offended gasp.

your bickering is quashed when the food is put down on your table. heeseung watches in amazement as you wolf down at least four pieces in one go. it leaves behind a trail of sauce all over your lips and heeseung grimaces. he wipes it away aggressively with a tissue.

“no one is taking the food away from you. can you eat slowly?” you grin at heeseung's comment.

for once, you listen to heeseung's advice. you take smaller bites and there’s less of a mess. you end up taking at least half of heeseung's bowl too, but there’s no complains on his side. as long as you are satisfied and happy, nothing else matters.

---

“heeseung, wake up.”

someone is shaking him. the tiredness in his body makes him crave more rest and he rolls over, ignoring the disruption.

“we’re going to be late.”

this time, the blanket is ripped off the bed and heeseung shivers as the chilly air hits him. slowly, he opens her eyes, squinting at the person towering over him. y/n? heeseung rubs the sleep away, sitting up slowly as he struggles to make sense of the situation.

“awake now? we have twenty minutes to make the next bus or else we’re screwed.” you help him off the bed. “how the hell did you sleep through your alarm? you’re better than me.”

he remembers briefly stirring in his sleep, but the late night yesterday had taken a toll. heeseung promises himself never to drink with jay and jake on a work night again.

“you could’ve gone to work. my stop is earlier than yours.” heeseung frowns as he looks at the time. you will be late. why did you stay back with him?

“i already called in about my lateness and it’s fine. sometimes over-working has its perks. they were nice about it.” you scrunch up your nose. “i’ll grab you something for breakfast. get ready, okay?”

nodding meekly, heeseung hurries off to get dressed. there’s something suspicious about the way you are acting. did something happen last night? his memory is foggy beyond the point of him downing shots with jake. he’s adding this to the long list of reasons to lock their wine cabinet in the kitchen.

“ready? let’s go.” you hand heeseung his bag, as well as his breakfast. “i’ll meet you after work so that we can go to the café together?”

“what café?” heeseung asks. he doesn’t recall having a conversation about anything of the sort.

you snicker, adding to heeseung's confusion. “i knew you were out of it from your second glass of wine yesterday. jay wanted to visit the café he’s been raving about for a week. you said yes to it last night.”

oh.

“right. i can come to you, if you want?.” heeseung says as you both reach the bus stop. “you’re already busy, plus you’re late today because of me.”

“i am late and we’re going to be on a crowded bus.” you sigh. “heeseung, the direction of the café is towards your work. there’s no point in you coming to me for us to go back.”

the point is made and heeseung realizes the logic behind it. even though he’d rather pick you up from work, there’s no use doubling the travelling.

he spots the bus at the stop, a sense of dread brewing in his stomach. peak hour public transport is the worst. there’s no place to sit, no place to stand. people don’t want to take the empty seats next to strangers. and heeseung hates crowded buses.

you reach out then, loosely interlacing your fingers. you smile softly at heeseung, squeezing his hand lightly. “it’ll be okay. you board first.”

heeseung hasn’t been able to figure it out yet, but somehow you know when he’s unsettled. you know when heeseung is nervous. know when he needs that extra bit of support. and even though he asks you every time, you just shrug your shoulders.

feeling the reassurance of your support has never been an issue. you're vocal about chasing away insecurities and love to show it too. that’s what heeseung appreciates the most. you ground him, anchoring heeseung in the times even he himself doesn’t realize how much he needs it. it’s taken the years of your friendship to realize that your habit is to put everyone else first and then yourself. you cater for the needs of others, their stories, their worries. it gives heeseung the push to do the same for you.

as you both squeeze through the people on the bus, your grip on heeseung only tightens. you let out a shaky breath only when you reach the back of the bus. heeseung glances over at the seats, perking up at the sight of an empty one. he ushers you over before you have a chance to argue. for a moment, heeseung swears he spots a glare on your face, but the bus lurches and you stumble, sitting on the seat.

heeseung giggles, inherently winning an unspoken argument. you will always be the priority in his eyes.

---

“oh, you’re out early.” you walk beside heeseung as you leave the building.

heeseung zones out as you start talking about jay. there’s a dull pain in his chest. one he wants to erase. is it the thought of losing you? heeseung can’t quite comprehend the reasoning. hearing you ramble on and on about jay's funny jokes at work is rubbing him the wrong way.

“–love it more. are you even listening to me?” you pause, crossing your arms over your chest.

no, he isn’t. heeseung opens his mouth to reply but you wave him off.

“we’re here. i’ll pay today.” you say, walking inside the shop.

you regret saying that later when you're at the cashier. heeseung smiles smugly at the long receipt being printed out. of course, he’d take advantage of the offer.

you bicker about it all the way to the café, neither wanting to relent. thankfully, one of your friends, mina ends up breaking your squabbling.

“you guys made it! did you buy me a present?” there’s a shine in mina's eyes as she glances at your bags.

“no.” heeseung deadpans, placing it on the table.

“so mean.” mina mumbles. “y/n, have a look at their menu. i know you like some of the drinks i like, so i can recommend a few for you.”

heeseung chuckles at the excitement brimming between the two of you. always wanting to try out new things. he can’t relate to appreciating the heavily caffeinated drinks. “i’m going to go to the bathroom. i’ll be back in a bit.”

“i’ll order something for you.” you say absentmindedly.

mina locks eyes with heeseung, a teasing grin on her face. before she can do anything with the information, heeseung scrambles to escape.

heeseung took some time to compose himself as he headed back to your table.

he sees confusion plastered on mina's face, busy staring at the americano on his spot. 

“that’s yours?” mina points. “you told me you hated everything coffee related.”

“no, i didn’t.” heeseung winces as he swallows a few sips. still just as bitter as he thought it would be.

“you hate coffee?” you are shocked as you look at heeseung. “but you drink half of mine whenever you buy it for me.”

there’s a hint of hurt laced in your voice and heeseung curses internally. this is exactly what he’d been avoiding. he flits his gaze between you and mina, not knowing how to answer. well, it’s not like mina didn’t know about his inability to say no to you. this isn’t news.

“his taste must’ve changed since we last talked.” mina smiles, chipping away on the pressure. “it’s been a while since we’ve come to a café.”

“that must be it. he never says no to me whenever i offer him sips from my own drink.” you chuckle.

heeseung chokes on his next sip, coughing hard. you didn’t have to say that out loud. his cheeks grow warm as mina looks over at him again. she’ll never live that down.

----

it’s your second bottle of wine you're about to finish between the four of you. you are huddled against heeseung, engrossed in playing with your threaded fingers. mina sits across, busy showing off something on her phone to jay.

heeseung's only had one glass himself yet his tolerance has always been low. you seem to be a bit soberer. his promise to himself about not drinking on weekdays flew out the window as soon as jay brought over two bottles from his father’s restaurant.

“are you okay?” heeseung asks, brushing your hair away from your face as you nod. “do you want to sleep?”

“i’m fine now. more worried about their state.” you chuckle at mina and jay. “how did they drink more than us but seem alert.”

“practice y/n.” jay quips. “don’t push yourself and you’ll build resistance. but i don’t think that’ll ever work with you. weak drinks are too strong for you.”

you grumble at the insult but don’t bite.

“do you guys think you can dance drunk?” mina challenges the three of you. “i bet heeseung can’t even stand on his feet right now.” she giggles at her phone.

heeseung's never one to back down and he leans over, plucking the phone out of mina's hands. what is this? a dance challenge? it seems simple to the eyes but requires a partner. he’s not doing this on his own.

you shift beside him, hooking your chin over heeseung's shoulder.

“that looks hard.” you squint. “why is it so fast?”

“do you want to try?” heeseung gets up, pulling you along with him. “i’ll guide you.”

“you watched it two times. i don’t trust you.” you shake your head.

“i’m offended. you should have more faith in me.” heeseung gasps. “just mirror what i do at the start.”

running through the video one more time, you nod. you stand in front of him as heeseung starts with his right hand up, left hand down. he intertwines his fingers with you, barely masks the sharp inhale that escapes his lips. he’s overwhelmed by your strong grip, but uses it to his advantage, lowering you for a mere second before pulling you back up. heeseung unwinds one arm, giggling as you squeal at the sudden movement. he tugs on your hand again, bringing you close. heeseung leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as your noses brush against each other.

even the darkness of the room couldn’t hide your gaze lingering on heeseung's lips. he meets your eyes, the confliction undeniably reflecting in heeseung's own.

“i don’t want to fight this any longer.” you sigh.

“then, don’t.” heeseung let’s go of your hands, cradling your cheeks between his palms instead. he brushes his thumbs across. “and just so you know, i don’t want to fight this either.”

you close the distance, pressing your lips against heeseung's. your eyes flutter close. it’s just as heated as it’s soft. not what heeseung ever really thought it would be like. it's so much more than that. he encircles your waist as you pull him by his shirt, keeping him near. it’s only when heeseung hears someone clear their throat that he remembers their friends are still there. he hesitantly moves away, kissing your forehead.

“god damn you guys. we didn’t need to see that. but finally!” jay shouts, cheering. “it seems like the plan worked.”

you and heeseung whip your heads back to jay.

“what plan?”

[igotanidea]

The fear : Jason Todd x fem!reader part 8

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

***

„You good?” Damian asked taking in her pale face and hurt eye expression.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She muttered, obviously lying. Even despite her experience-enhanced skills in the art of deceiving it was impossible to cover up for the fact that unwanted, unneeded and unwelcomed encounter with Jason took a huge tool on her mentality. And it lasted no longer than an hour.

An hour, that took turn from open hostility to a little unexpected heart to heart that opened old wounds. Reminding of the past mistakes, lost things and casted wounds. Ruined relationship that was doomed from the very beginning.

But even though-

They fought for it.

They fought to the best of their limited abilities, despite the world that was conspiring against them and throwing obstacles their way. Damn that tears that started flowing down her face when she started dwelling in the past. There was no denying she still held strong feelings for him, though couldn’t quite define if they were good ones or the bad ones.

“Y/N…”

“I’m fine, Damian. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine…” she repeated as some sort of spell. A lie told a hundred times becoming a reality.

“Let’s get you upstairs first. We’ll watch some silly movies so you could stop telling me bullshit.”

“Hey! Language!”

“I’m 15, you can’t tell me what to do.”

“15 my ass. Still the same nasty little boy as always only with a fouler mouth.”

“It’s good to see you again Y/N.” Damian smirked

“Yeah, you too, kiddo.”

“You do realise you won’t be heading back home tonight, right?”

“What? Huh! You’re gonna keep me captive now or something?”

“You voluntarily got yourself in the house full of vigilantes, the heck were you thinking?”

“I could argue on that voluntarily part but-“

Regardless of what she said, it was evident that Damian has grown during the time they didn’t see each other. Not only in height, but also mentally. And it only made her realise the full amount of things she lost.

Not just the man she loved, but also priceless time with her best friends Wayne boys.

While Y/N was getting drunk and laughed with Dick, Tim and Damian upstairs, Jason refused to step a foot out the batcave as long as she was still in the manor.

Fuck her.

Fuck her help, her words, her gestures, her eyes and hair, her smile and her coming for the rescue attitude. Who the hell she thought she was?! Paw patrol?!

The anger started boiling in him again, threatening to take over.

Anger at everything, but mostly at himself for getting so vulnerable and honest with her, to the point when he asked her to fucking take him back.

Pathetic. Foolish. Idiot.

“Aghghhg!” he jumped from the chair kicking it with all the rage he had, nearly breaking the metal.

Fighting the urge to destroy all that stupid batcave – the real reason of his fucked up life and psyche. He could have been a normal boy being in a relationship with the girl of his dreams. Instead he had to die (leaving her in tears), come back (leaving her in tears), suffering from the Pit madness (leaving her in tears) and due to this fucking fear gas incident loose her again (leaving her in tears)

“FUCK!” he grabbed the chair and threw it on the floor “FUCK!” he yelled, throwing all the stuff from the nearest desk “FUCK!!!” he pulled at his hair, hard enough he could be left bald.

He had no idea what he wanted.

So fucking angry, horn-mad, charged with hands itching to punch something, someone, to destroy, hurt, kill…

Stop…

“Huh?! Get the fuck out of my head Y/N!!” he yelled in the air, his voice echoing through the empty space.

Stop, Jason…

Right. Stop. He was past his killing days. He was not a monster. Not a beast.

He changed. He grew up, matured, became a man and not a boy.

He had to get a hold of himself.

Move past the past.

If he couldn’t have her he might as well spend the evening with his crazy asses brothers, giving them his attitude, using the bad mood to banter and bicker and pick up on someone else to make himself feel better.

So he emerged from the batcave, almost in the same way he did emerge from the Pit.

Slowly heading upstairs.

To the main room, filled with surprising silence. Deafening silence that formed goosebumps on his arms and immediately put him on alert, searching for some kind of threat.

Vigilante instincts never fail.

There was some movement on the couch.

Two people, a man and a woman judging by the silhouettes.

Girl sitting on man's lap, straddling him, their hands all over each other, their lips moving together, the room filled with soft whines of pleasure and sweet whispers.

“Y/N…” the man whispered.

THE FUCK!?

Jason stomped inside without a care in the world, making the couple break the intense make-out session and look at him with terrified expressions.

“Grayson!!!” he yelled taking in the scene, his fury immediately raising head again. “Y/N!!!”

He was right.

There was someone else in her life already.

And that someone was the fuckboy - his older adoptive-brother.

[kissingfinelines]

High School! Nanami headcanons

(ac: mineco000 on twt!)

(emo nanami x gn! reader)

A/N: If no one else is gonna pump out emo kento content ig I’ll do it :/

Gets teased constantly about being emo (mainly by his peers Gojo, Geto, Haibara, etc.) It’s all in good fun and it doesn’t really get to him but when he catches feelings for you it makes him wonder if he’d be your type.

He wonders if you’d like boys like him because he’s noticed that outgoing fun guys like Gojo are typically seen as more attractive.

You’re oblivious to his crush on you because he’s always quiet unless he has something worth saying. But Haibara noticed immediately because…

Nanami is usually quiet but does small gestures that show his true feelings towards someone. Like whenever you talk Nanami gives you his full attention but when you look at him he immediately turns away and just nods. Haibara notices this and giggles about it.

YU HAIBARA NUMBER #1 WINGMAN

He’s always telling Nanami to shoot his shot w you!

H: “C’mon I’ll set up a date and everything! We could go to a cafe [as a group of 3] but then I’ll lie and say I left my stove on or something. Then I’ll leave and it would just be the two of you!”

Nanami says it’s the stupidest idea he’s ever heard (but he considers it for days.)

He doesn’t try to flirt with you because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable (but he practices what to say to you in the mirror and Haibara caught him one time 💀)

NK: “So um, Y/N, what… kind of music do you like?” He mumbles to the mirror, awkwardly fixing his hair. He tries to imagine your response in his head.

“Oh, I love the same music as you, Ken! Take me to a concert so we can rave and make out!” Haibara teases from the doorway, making his voice high pitched. He wraps his arms around himself and makes kissing sounds.

Nanami threw a pillow at him and jumped him.

But when he is alone with you…

For example, if it’s just you two on a mission, he’ll try to make small talk even though he hates it.

He’ll bring up anything he knows you like (shows, movies, music, etc.) because even if he knows nothing about it, he likes watching the way you light up when you talk about your interest.

If you’re walking next to each other and your hands touch he won’t visibly react but he will scream internally.

If you flirt with him even as a joke, he won’t know how to react and he will blush like crazy. His face will be so red you’ll ask if he’s having an allergic reaction.

Constantly fights the urge to look at any part of you

Finally confessing…

If you confess first:

He’ll ask if you’re joking. Even if you confirm that you’re not, he’ll ask 10 more times.

He’ll start to smile but quickly cover the corner of his mouth with the neck of his uniform jacket.

He finally makes eye contact with you and softly says “I like you too.”

He’d like to kiss you on the spot, but thinks it’d be more romantic to wait for the first date.

Instead, he asks to hold your hand. When you accept, he holds it tightly, wondering how he got so lucky.

If he confesses first…

It would probably be after a long mission. It’s late at night and you’re both pretty beat.

You’d be covered in scratches and cuts, bleeding lightly. But to Nanami, you’re still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

Without thinking, he’d reach forward and wipe a drop of blood from your chin.

When you ask him why he did that, he’d just shrug and give a small tired smile. He’s usually stoic, but how could he not smile after a job well done?

And in all honesty, he’s just glad he didn’t lose you.

It’s late and you’re both exhausted, so he suggests going to a local bakery he loves and insists that he’ll pay.

It doesn’t matter if you order a pastry or a sandwich, he’s happy to treat you.

On the walk back to campus, he watches as you eagerly chow down on whatever he bought you. He decides to use whatever adrenaline he has left to confess his feelings for you.

NK: “Hey, there’s something that’s… been on my mind for a while. I’ve tried to ignore it but, it’s pretty difficult to do when it’s about someone like you.”

He rambles on how about how much he likes you. His words sound like a poet but they’re basically verbatim with the lyrics of his favorite song.

Once he’s done he goes quiet and looks at you. “So… what do you think? I don’t expect you to feel the same, but if you do…”

When you tell him you feel the same, his knees go weak. He can’t even believe the words you’re saying.

“I’ve always liked you, Kento.” You laugh, placing a hand on his arm.

“You’re lying.” Nanami’s eyes are wide with surprise.

“I’m not, I swear! I thought I made it obvious. Even Haibara noticed.”

“He what.”

[thewriterg]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐬

pairing(s); miguel o’hara x fem!reader

summary; isolation was the only way to cure the… bug you were having but of course your worthier than thoull boss didn’t allow it —angstober day; 22—

word count; 1.2k

warning(s); SMUT, sex pollen, objectification, oral (f receiving), p in v, kisses, pet names, and language

A/n:—GIFs; @miguelo-hara & @ennaih—

“Miguel it’s not gonna work” Lyla sighed hovering over the man’s shoulder as he worked his way way up the stair to your spare room in spider society that was supposed to be an office You, Hobie, Gwen, and Pavitr had turned into a hangout

When he put his hand over the reader to enter he didn’t expect for it to be denied flashing a bold red against his tanned skin

“Lyla what is thi-”

“Y/n wanted the floor shut down from everyone, including you” The hologram sassily cut off the variant her hands typing against the screen of her makeshift cell phone and Miguel sighed heavily putting a palm over his his eyes and the bridge of his nose

“Override it. No, no, no, no, no, override it.” The brunette demanded and the AI huffed something about you threatening to cut off the WiFi again before the door was opening letting him enter it was almost pitch black their was curtains over the windows with occasional evening sun peaking through his nose was burning with the scent, your scent

“Y/l/n” He called out to no response taking careful steps around until his head shifted towards the open bathroom door you arm sticking out of the frame that he rushed to turning on the light switch to see you lying face down on the cold floor of the the washroom the only thing that kept your body from feeling it wasn’t on fire your form slightly shaking, a thin sheet of sweat covering your skin, stray strands of hair sticking to your forehead, and your suit only halfway on your body your bare back facing Miguel

“Get out” You hissed curling in on yourself

“Lyla, shut down this floor and cut off surveillance” The AI hummed before disappearing herself probably to go lie on someone else’s shoulder for a while Miguel sat a hand on your back surprised that your body heat was rolling through his suit like it was nothing his eyebrows furrowing as he went against your wished sliding an arm under you lifting you up and over his shoulder your hot form almost burning against his while you groaned in protest of the movement until Miguel lied you down on the worn couch

“Listen you need to get you med- Hey! Medbay! Now! Y/l/n-” The brunette struggled to keep you down as you tried to climb over the couch trying your get back to you temporary sacred space before the Latino was putting his arms around under your armpits and setting you back down down huffing when you turned to your second attempt of escape from climbing over the couch to crawling against the ceiling just to be brought down by a web wrapped around your waist

“Why won’t you just listen! You’re acting like a child-”

“Because I’m going insane! I can hear your blood pumping through your jugular, I can smell your testosterone and how you’re getting hard from seeing me in pain like a fucking pervert, I feel like a teething toddler because my fangs are aching to bite down on something, and right now I don’t know if I want to fuck you or fight you so, get. out.” The leaders eyebrows shot up as you went on over time ranting your eyes were pure crimson and it reminded him how he first found you trying to recruit you for HQ

Miguel at you stared at you silently and unmoving until he was smashing his lips into yours while bare chest pressing against his suit covered one pulling away reluctantly looking into your eyes in return searching for reassurance that that he was doing the right thing

“If I start I won’t be able to stop” You whisper forehead lying against his beads of sweat dripping down your temple until a palm was swooping up your chin lifted to meet his gaze

“Let me help.” He muttered his voice gruff chocolate eyes turning to match yours blood and crimson staring back at each-other Miguel grunted while you cupped his erection skin pressing against his skin while your lips overpowered his you tug at the spandex of his suit eagerly understanding your point the tanned skin pressing the spider symbol on his church that loosened the fabric around his body before he shrugged it off his top half matching to you running hit large palms up your bare back the coolness of then comforting the scolding surface of your backside

The brunette lifted your hips where you wrapped your legs around his waist cupping his erection and kissing his swollen lips till you could no longer breathe and after a moments passing you felt your height dipped discovering your new position on the couch situated on his lap your pussy practically leaking through your suit bottoms

“Fuck corazón” Miguel grunted lifting his hips shimmying his pants down to his ankle his thick tip staring back at you angry and red your hand wrapped around the base the tip leaking pre cum and you and you could hear a muffled grunt coming from above you and you greedily devoured the sound whining as you’d clothed clit rubbed against his thigh your temperature at it’s all time high and the brunette shushed you softly helping you shed of your suit placing his cool hands against any skin he could touch

“Slow down Y/n” The Latino reached a hand down to stop you or your cunt from swallowing him while the thought making him wait to buck his hips into you

“She’s not into foreplay at the moment right now” You hummed that soon turned into a moan while you sunk down down onto the thick head of your boss’s cock the width practically splitting you open while Miguel took a hold of your hips occasional grunts leaving him while you killed him of slowly your warm walls wrapping around him like a snug blanket

“Oh fuck ngh- oh shit princesa” You moaned at the sound of his poorly concealed whimpering it travels down to your core and your pain was finally being remodeled into pleasure quick as light the poisonous pollen you’d encountered probably one of the main factors as you began to speed up your pace creating a combination of grinding and bouncing on his genitals dipping your head into his neck while the monster of a man moaned above you the smell of his blood flooding your sense as you pressed kisses against his neck your fangs scraping against his julgular

“Go ahead, do it muñeca” You hesitated a bit taking the skin in between you teeth but not quite biting down until Miguel thrusted his hips up into you meeting your thrust causing a gasp to escape from your lips from and you finally bit down your fangs breaking the skin while you felt hot ropes coat your insides until Miguel bit down on your shoulder causing you to silently scream your legs shaking in response while the brunette rubbed your clit riding you through your high until you were panting rolling off his thighs breathing heavily

“Round two?”

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[kimbappykidding]

Imagine teasing Scoups for his crush on you but then one weekend away together you’re the one getting flustered

You realised Scoups had a thing for you pretty quickly mainly because Seventeen went out of their way to make you realise it. You were the leader of a group under the same label as Seventeen called Eos and actually debuted less than a year after Seventeen. So your groups interacted a lot and even trained together. A few weeks into training, you noticed how the Seventeen boys would all grab and nudge Scoups whenever you entered the room. If you had to partner up they'd shove Scoups towards you and stare whenever you talked or danced. So it was pretty easy to guess what was going on but you never said anything about it because you didn't want to embarrass Scoups. However after you debuted you stayed friends and that friendship grew...to the point where you were comfortable enough with Scoups to joke around with him. 

One week you were around at the Seventeen house and you were protecting the maknae as usual. You had a soft spot for Dino because you had a little brother the same age as him only born a few days earlier so he reminded you a lot of him. You always came to his defence and sided with him causing the guys to nickname you Dino's champion which Dino was fine with! When fighting 12 guys it helps to have a powerful woman in your corner.

The most recent pick-on-Dino topic was about a crush he had on one of the Stayc members. The boys and in particular Scoups were tormenting him for never saying anything to the girl about it. This has been going on for several minutes and Dino was bright pink. "Come on you've got to tell her how you feel!" Scoups said "how's she going to know if you never do anything?". You'd all had a little to drink and a comment slipped out before you could help it. "Funny for you to say that of all people Scoups" you called and everyone froze. "What?" he asked and deciding not to back down you smiled "you heard me" and stared at him until he got it. Scoups blushed and all the guys began to cheer as they got it. "She did not go there!" Seungkwan cried while Dk, Jeonghan, Joshua and Hoshi all started high-fiving you. You thought it was pretty funny when you said it but regretted it immediately after. When you stepped out of the room you began to panic. "Was that really mean?" you asked Joshua and Jeonghan "to tease him like that?". The guys, however, shook their heads "no Scoups laughed and he's a good sport, he won't be upset or offended" Joshua said and Jeonghan nodded "yeah and it's true! He was teasing Dino for doing the exact same thing he's doing". You blushed "I know but I just worried I'd gone too far?" when a voice asked "who's gone too far?". You turned to see Scoups standing there and froze but you couldn't lie so you admitted. "Me with my comment earlier. I was nervous I might've upset or offended you". Scoups shook his head "Nah not at all, it was funny and I actually enjoyed it". "You did?" you asked amazed and Scoups smiled "yeah...it was kinda hot" and walked away leaving you floored.

That comment stuck with you and the second you got home you had to share it. "He said it was hot" you said and your members all laughed before one of your members called B spoke, "well that makes sense". "It does?" you asked and she nodded "Jeonghan told me Scoups has a thing for being dominated, probably because he's the leader so he likes having someone else take the reigns and take control of him" she said. You did not know this and were shocked "oh..." you said and another member burst out laughing "she's blushing!" which made you blush even more and you all dissolved into laughter. The thing was everyone expected, sooner or later, something would happen with you and Scoups. You were both the same age, both leaders of your groups, clearly got on and had good chemistry so everyone thought it was straightforward but it wasn't to you. You were worried that a hook-up or anything like that would change your relationship for the worse. This was a tad irrational as your member Suki had been hooking up with Jeonghan for ages plus B and several other members had also slept with Seventeen guys over the years but you thought considering you and Scoups were the leaders it was different. You had more responsibility and actually really relied on each other when things were tough. When Scoups' mental health was bad he used to come to you because you'd had anxiety as a teenager and could help calm him down. When one of your members was forced to leave the group for false bullying allegations you were a wreck and didn't even know if you wanted to be an idol anymore but Scoups was there for you and drove you to practice every day. In a lot of ways you were already like the mom and dad of your groups and you worried that by making it more complicated you'd wreck that perfect balance you had. So you pretended your feelings for Scoups were just superficial and based on physical attraction when it actually went a lot deeper than that. In a Hybe Christmas raffle, Scoups won a voucher for a weekend spa trip and he and Jeonghan had been booked to go for ages but then the day before they were due to leave Jeonghan got ill and went to hospital. You rushed over the moment you heard and found Jeonghan assuring everyone he was okay. "I literally went to the hospital for a test that's it. I'm not that bad I just need sleep and rest" he explained while his members fussed over him. Seeing Jeonghan was getting annoyed Scoups called for everyone to leave the room when he spotted you. "Y/n...you came?" he said and Jeonghan spotted you. "Y/n!" he complained "I'm fine you didn't have to come all this way". You shot him a look "I heard you'd been to the hospital so there was no question of me coming, are you really okay?". "Yes it's just bad flu don't worry but actually I'm glad you're here". "You are?" you asked and Jeonghan nodded turning to Scoups. "So obviously I can't come to the spa with you" which you and Scoups protested. "But the treatments might help you!" Scoups said and you nodded "yes and I bet you can get treatments to improve congestion and sinuses". Jeonghan shook his head "I don't feel up to it and just want to sleep so it'd be a waste if I went but I know someone you can take instead" and he looked at you. It took you and Scoups a few seconds to get it and you immediately protested "Jeonghan I don't want to take your spot! You've been looking forward to it for ages". "I don't care about that" Jeonghan said "plus you've been so overworked lately haven't you Y/n?". "You have to be fair" Scoups nodded and Jeonghan continued "plus this is your first weekend off in weeks right?". This was all true and it was kind of making you wonder if Jeonghan had planned this somehow. "Plus how long has it been since you went to a spa?" Jeonghan asked and you shrugged "forever yes but aren't there any other members who deserve it more or who you'd rather take?" you asked Scoups. He shook his head "I can't think of anyone who deserves it more than you and I'd honestly prefer to be with you than any of the other guys". You blushed at how serious Scoups said that and paused "but don't we have to be there in like 2 hours?". "Yeah but it's only an hour drive!" Jeonghan cried "so Scoups drive Y/n to her house, she can pack, tell her members and then the two of you can go enjoy your weekend!". "You in?" Scoups asked you and you gave in "I'm in". So you both did as Jeonghan said and Scoups drove you to your house where you would rapidly pack. You brought Scoups in with you as he knew all your members and had been over tons of times. Everyone waved when they saw him and you explained the situation. "So I need to pack in like 10 minutes flat, B and Gia can you help me?" you asked and they jumped up ready to go. Scoups chuckled gently touching your arm "Y/n we have a little more time so don't rush yourself too much okay?". His eyes were so soft and caring that you struggled not to blush and nodded "okay". "I'll stay down here with your girls...oh are you watching Big Hero 6?" he asked and rushed to squeeze onto the sofa with them. You smiled as he stole some popcorn for the maknae making her whine and ruffled her hair before your members pulled you upstairs. "Okay so we're on a time limit so we've only got 1 minute for teasing" B said and they both launched into gushing over you. "Y/n this is so romantic" Gia said "a spa getaway together". "It's not romantic I'm just filling in for Jeonghan". "Yeah but out of 11 other guys he could've taken he took you" B said "because he lovesssss you" and you pushed her "isn't the minute up". "No that's just 30 seconds I'm timing on my watch" Gia replied and you rolled your eyes. "So with that in mind we have to pack accordingly" B said "there's a swimming pool right?". "Yes" you nodded and she smiled "so you have to wear that killer red suit! The bikini that makes your body look amazing!" she cried and you shook your head "no way! I'm not trying to seduce Scoups". "Ahh come on" Gia said and her and B began grabbing your sexiest clothes when you stopped them. "No I want to be conservative and friendly" so you selected some modest dresses and a swimsuit and placed them in your bag. "Can you guys grab my pyjamas and underwear while I go get my skincare stuff?". They nodded and rushed to help. When you returned your bag was all packed. "We even put your sleep pillow that you need to sleep in there too" Gia said and you smiled "thanks guy you're the best" and headed back downstairs. "Wow that was quick" Scoups said and B nodded "well she is the queen of organisation". Scoups smiled fondly "I know...so let's go. I figured he could grab a coffee for the drive and then head off". "Sounds great!" you smiled and said goodbye to all your members before getting into Scoups car. Once inside you sighed "I love your car" and Scoups laughed well aware of your obsession with it. "You're going to have to let me borrow it sometime" you said and Scoups smiled "hmmm maybe if you beg I'll give it you for an hour". "Only an hour!" you cried "what if I asked super nicely" and you turned towards him batting your eyes. Scoups looked at you and lasted 3 seconds before he had to turn away "yeah you can borrow it". You laughed "don't worry I'm only joking" and Scoups pretended he was too but he wasn't. He'd give you anything you wanted. The drive passed very quickly as it always did when you and Scoups were together. You arrived at the spa and got your bags out of the car. Scoups had two bags and was attempting to juggle both while he locked the car so you plucked one from his hands. "Hey..." he complained trying to carry it instead but you just started down the path leaving him with his bag. Scoups hurried after you and caught you in reception. He caught your arm and pulled you back around. "You don't have to carry my stuff!" he said and you shrugged "why not? I had a hand free and want to help you". Scoups smiled at you "you're too kind Y/n but it's okay give it" but you shook your head "everyone deserves someone to be kind to them". Scoups went to speak again when you both realised there was someone at the receptionist's desk and he was watching you both curiously. Scoups turned towards him and made for the desk. "Hello, we have a reservation at 1:00" and the man nodded "of course let me get you and your girlfriend all booked in". "Oh we're not together" Scoups said and you nodded "just friends". The man didn't look convinced by your words and glanced between you both "really?" he asked and Scoups laughed. You were amused by this guy's forwardness and nodded "yes we're just friends but really good friends". The man nodded but still seemed unconvinced "okay so here is your room key for you and your friend" he said handing them over "have a lovely stay". You and Scoups thanked him and then laughed together once you were out of sight. "What an odd person" Scoups commented and you nodded chuckling. You entered your room to see it was a beautiful suite. Everything smelled amazing and looked so clean. Scoups let out a sigh "this is the life, no boy smell or leftover socks on the floor". "Socks?" you asked and Scoups nodded "I live with 12 guys, there is always a pair of socks somewhere on the floor in the house". You nodded "makes sense, so our first treatment is in 30 minutes should we get ready and head down?". Scoups nodded "sounds good!" and took his bag heading into the bathroom "you get changed out here and tell me when you're done". You nodded and put your bag on the bed. You heard Scoups gasp and paused "Scoups? What's wrong?". "The bathroom is great too!" he called and you laughed...however you stopped smiling when you opened your bag. "Fuck!" you cried and you heard Scoups stop moving "You okay out there?". You nodded "yeah I just erm...I didn't check my bag before letting B and Gia pack it and they've chosen a kind of revealing swimsuit". "Oh?" Scoups asked and you nodded "and they've done the same for all my clothes...can you come out and tell me if you think they'll be okay?". "Sure give me one second" and you heard Scoups shuffling around. He appeared in a fluffy gown and nodded "show me". You held up the bikini and Scoups inspected it trying very hard not to picture you in it so he wouldn't blush. "It looks like a normal bikini. When you said revealing I thought it'd be worse". "Oh okay and the dress?" you asked holding that up and Scoups smiled "it's very pretty Y/n, you have nothing to worry about". You nodded "okay good I'll go get changed and took your bikini into the bathroom. You went straight down to the spa for your massages and weren't waiting long before you went into the room. The person said you could remove your gown and Scoups tried not to stare as you took yours off but you looked sensational. The red colour looked amazing on you and even the masseuses complimented you. You thanked her bashfully glancing at Scoups who was looking at his feet not trusting himself to raise his eyes any higher. As they were couples massages the masseuses interacted with the two of you. "So are you two..." the first one started and Scoups smiled "we're good friends who work together". "Ahhh" your masseuse said "how lovely for you to be here together then, it's nice you're so close. How long have you known one another?". You paused "is it four years or five?" you asked Scoups. "It will be five in May" he said and the masseuse smiled "that was pretty quick, I'm guessing you remember the first moment you met?". You honestly couldn't but Scoups nodded "I do actually. We're performers and I remember I was having a bad day because I woke up late and traffic was a nightmare. They told me I had a brand new dance partner who only just started today and I got annoyed because I figured I'd have to teach them everything but then you walked in and came right over to me when the staff pointed me out as your partner. You introduced yourself and began asking me all these technical questions, like did I want to stand beside you or behind you, could I hop over your leg or should I just to the side and tons of other minor modifications you could make to make it better for me. From your dedication and attention to detail, I knew right then that we'd get along". The masseuses told Scoups how sweet that was and you had to agree. You recalled meeting Scoups through being dance partners but couldn't remember that first interaction but it clearly had an impact on him. "Your friend is clearly very kind and sentimental" your masseuse said and you nodded "he is". After the massage you couldn't stop looking and Scoups and just feeling so grateful to be here with him. You had some time until your next treatment so explored the spa a little bit. Your first stop was the pool which was lovely and empty. You sat on the edge of the pool still wrapped in your robe and Scoups joined you. "That massage was so nice' you said and Scoups nodded "I feel so relaxed but I bet a week at work and my muscles will be all tense again". You laughed "yeah probably" and then paused as Scoups took off his robe and sunk into the water. You watched him for a smile thinking of how such a masculine-looking guy could be so sweet and soft with you. Your stomach fluttered as you began to wonder if he did have feelings for you and what that could mean. When you didn't join Scoups in the pool he looked up at you from the water "not getting in?". You hesitated and he smiled "it's nice a warm". The water glistened and his expression was very enticing so you agreed. You took your robe off and folded it up trying to hide behind it. You then tried to make your way into the pool as quickly as possible so it didn't seem like you were flaunting yourself. You rushed down the stairs into the pool and Scoups laughed "someone eager". You blushed "I just wanted to be covered". Scoups nodded "yeah I noticed that but for the record, you don't need to be self-conscious. I wasn't looking but from what I saw you're stunning". You blushed "thanks Scoups. You look good too". He blushed and changed the subject "wanna do some lengths?". You swam back and forth for a while before Scoups realised the small waterfall at the back of the pool has an alcove where you could sit behind the waterfall. "Wow, how many people do you reckon have made out back here?" you asked. Scoups laughed "hundreds, why are you offering?" he asked with a cheeky smile. "Maybe" you replied back staring at him with a serious expression. Scoups stared back at you, frozen by the situation before he shook his head and looked down "it's nice behind here" and he took a seat on the ledge. You joined him but could feel a slight tension in the air. You weren't sure why you'd said that to Scoups but hadn't been 100% joking. For a while now, you'd come to the realisation that if Scoups kissed you, you wouldn't push him away. Now more than ever you wanted him to kiss you and were done fearing what would happen if you became more. You just wanted Scoups. You eventually had to leave the pool for your manicure and pedicure treatments. Your hands and feets were pampered before being manicured and tidied. It felt like heaven and Scoups kept laughing at your expression. "Stop it!" you said but he couldn't stop laughing and that made you laugh. Scoups was obviously in a good mood because after that he kept making you and the staff working on you laugh 24/7. You loved when he acted playful and were both in fits of giggles. Your nails finished (and still giggling) you wandered into the sauna to calm down. Scoups let out a deep sigh as the heat hit him and you laughed. You had to remove your robe but it was so steamy you didn't mind. However, that did mean that when you turned to hang it up you lost Scoups. "Scoups?" you called and a hand appeared out of the fog. "I'm here" Scoups said catching your hand in his "the bench is this way" and he pulled you after him. He quickly came into view and you sat together. "This is so nice I could just fall asleep" you said and Scoups smiled "close your eyes, you can have a rest and I'll tell you when we should be heading off". So you did as Scoups aid and closed your eyes. You got more and more relaxed, your body loosening with each minute and eventually, you ended up leaning on Scoups. It took a few seconds for you to realise that it wasn't the bench but Scoups arm and you moved away "Sorry". "No don't move it's okay" Scoups said and you tentatively moved back resting against him. Scoups sat up taller so you could lean your head on his shoulder and it felt so natural and nice. You could feel Scoups pressed against you but didn't feel self-conscious or immodest. It just felt nice. However all things must come to an end and Scoups told you, the two of you should probably go get re-hydrated and get ready for your evening meal. You agreed with him and left together.

You went back to your room and drank the waters you'd brought back up from the cafe. Neither one of you wanted to move and sat on the bed beside one another chatting for half an hour before Scoups chuckled "okay if we want to make our dinner reservation we really should start moving, it's in 20 minutes". You smiled "I can easily get ready in 20 minutes, can you?". Scoups gasped "what? Of course I can!". "Are you sure because some of the guys have spoken about how you can take forever?". "This is slander!" Socups cried "I bet I'll be ready before you!". "You're on!" you grinned "bagsy the bathroom" and grabbed your stuff rushing into the room. 15 minutes later you stepped out expecting to find Scoups still doing his hair but he was sat on the bed patiently waiting dressed in a nice white shirt, trousers and fitted jacket. He was looking at his watch and smiled up at you "what a surprise, you took longer than me!". You playfully threw your bag at him and he caught it before setting it down and that was when he looked back up at you. There was no mistaking the look on his face and he gaped "wow" before he could even try and hide it. "I mean...wow you look really nice" he said and you went bright red. "Is it too revealing though?". Scoups quickly scanned you before shaking his head "not at all Y/n, you look amazing" and you blushed "so do you, that shirt really suits you" and you'd be lying if coming out to see him sat like that on the bed hadn't made your stomach do flips. Now it was Scolups turn to blush and he played with his hair nervously "thanks...should we get going?" and he held out his arm to you. You made your way down to the restaurant and noticed people looking as you walked in. You figured they were all appreciating Scoups and he assumed the same but with you. Scoups gave his name to the waiter and you were taken to a nice table in the back away from other tables. "Nice seats" you said going to sit down before realising Scoups was holding out the chair for you. You walked to him blushing slightly and couldn't see but he was blushing too. Everything on the menu sounded amazing so you ordered quickly and then were sat across from one another. "Thank you for bringing me today" you said "I've had a lovely time". "You're very welcome but it's not over yet" Scoups said popping the bottle you'd bought for the table. He poured you a glass and smiled "We should definitely do things like this more often". You agreed "definitely, to us" and clinked glasses in cheers. Your food came quickly and was so good. It was filling but not bloating and afterwards, you felt good. You were together finishing off your drinks when a waiter banged into the wall because he'd been staring at you. Scoups saw it happen but you just heard the noise and turned to see his scurrying away. "What happened?" you asked laughing and Scoups smiled "the waiter saw you and banged into a wall". You frowned "what? No...". "He did" Scoups said "he took one look at you and forgot what he was doing. You're dangerous Y/n". You blushed shaking your head but Scoups smiled "you're very beautiful Y/n I'm sure you're used to it". You pause "it's very kind of you to say" and Scoups shrugged "it's the truth". "It's just hard when you don't see yourself that way. I've noticed you don't like compliments". "I love them!" Scoups said and you laughed "so why every time I called you handsome today did you change the subject?". Scoups paused and shook his head "well I guess that's more to do with you". "With me?" you asked and he nodded "as in, sometimes when an insanely good-looking person compliments your looks it feels odd and is hard to believe". You'd learned Scoups would compliment you no matter your protests so just decided to address the latter. "Well believe it. I think you are incredibly attractive Scoups and I know lots of people do". "If you say so" he said as you shook your head "what's it going to take for you to believe people want you?". He shrugged "I don't know...I just never will I guess". You couldn't cope with that or this gorgeous man thinking nobody wanted him when that wasn't remotely true. "Scoups?". "Yeah?" he asked looking at you. "I want you" you said and his eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as your words sunk in. "You do?" he asked and you nodded "yes, I've always wanted you" and Scoups didn't have to ask what you meant. He could just  tell from your tone of voice and the way you were looking at him. "You can have me" he said and quickly put some money down on the table and took your hand leading you to your room. He unlocked the door easily and once inside there was a brief moment where you both stood staring at one another waiting to make the first move. "Y/n I just want you to know...you don't have to do anything with me, I like you no matter what happens". You smiled "I know and that's why I know this is the right thing to do. You're so kind it's so hot" and you kissed him. Scoups loved you making the first move and happily let you press him back against the door. He wrapped his hands around your waist pulling you in tighter and you just let your instincts take over. *** "I can't believe Jeonghan's plan worked" you said and Scoups looked at you laid next to him "you think he planned this?". You shrugged "maybe not getting ill but he definitely used it to his advantage...I just can't believe it worked out like they all said". Scoups smiled turning on his side so he was facing you. He traced your arm and stared at you "and how did they say it would end?". You laughed blushing "exactly like this, us getting together after just one night alone". Scoups smiled "well you are irresistible" and gently kissed you. "You're one to talk" you replied and Scoups beamed. He wrapped an arm around you and you came to lay on his chest. "You know...we don't have to tell them if you don't want" Scoups said. You paused "keep it a secret?". "Yeah but only if you want to, I'm more than happy to tell them or hide it. Whatever you want". You thought about it for a second before speaking "well if we keep it a secret then that means we have to hide it and I don't want that. I want to be able to hug and kiss you whenever I want...well within reason of course. I won't just march into practice and kiss you" you said but Scoups smirked "well you can if you want, I won't be mad" making you chuckled. "Yeah you'd love that wouldn't you?" you asked and Scoups smiled "just a little". You checked out of your room the next day and were both grinning from ear to ear. You had the same receptionist and he looked at your entwined hands and smiled "thought so" he said under his breath and you both laughed. "Yeah you must be psychic" Scoups said and the man shook his head "no, I just saw how you looked at each other" making you blush. The drive back passed so quickly because neither of you wanted to go back to real life. Scoups stopped at his place because that's where you'd left your car and he invited you in for a coffee and to tell the guys. You walked in hand in hand all ready...for nobody to be there. "Well this is anticlimactic" Scoups said and he walked into the kitchen but there was nobody there either. You heard someone in the dining room and went in to find Vernon there. "Oh hey Vernon" Scoups said taking your hand and Vernon nodded to you both "Hey did you have a nice time?". He didn't even look at your hands, he didn't notice. "Yeah we did...where is everyone?" Scoups asked and Vernon shrugged "outside maybe? I'm not sure". You headed into the living room and sure enough, everyone was outside. Scoups turned to you "you sure you're ready to tell them?". You were just thinking everything over when you heard a loud gasp and turned to see Dk and Seungkwan standing behind you. The two worst members to catch you. "Oh. My. God!" Seungkwan yelled looking at your hands and Dk screamed and ran outside "Y/n and Scoups are together!". All the guys turned and looked towards the doorway where you were now visible. "Scratch that" Scoups said and he led you outside. You reached the table and he smiled "hi everyone, I think you've met my girlfriend Y/n right?".   They all started going crazy cheering and celebrating. Money was exchanged between several people and Dk and Hoshi started bowing to Jeonghan. "So you two really couldn't go 24 hours alone together?" The8 asked and Scoups nodded. "Yeah, my girlfriend's hot and I'm proud of it" making you blush. You stayed with Scoups and his members all day before you had to go home. Scoups didn't want you to go and neither did you. You must've said goodbye 3 times before you finally made it to the front door. "Now this is goodbye for real this time" you told Scoups leaning in to kiss him and he agreed "okay" but the second you pulled away he set those beautiful eyes on you. "You sure you can't stay for one more drink?". "No!" you said laughing "I want to get home before it gets dark and we'll see each other tomorrow at work right?". Scoups nodded "right" and you smiled "so I'll see you then" and with a final kiss finally walked out of the door. You got in your car and only then did the situation hit you. You let out a happy squeal and relaxed back into your chair. This weekend couldn't have gone any better.

[bloodiedrogue]

FIGURE YOU OUT (1)

SUMMARY: As Spider-Man's older sister it's your responsibility to make sure he comes home no matter the state. It's also your responsibility to question strangers who claim to be versions of him from other dimensions.

PAIRING: Miguel O'Hara & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 7,793

WARNINGS: Angst, enemies-to-lovers adjacent (if that makes sense???), minor descriptions of injury, heavy alcohol use, mention of vomiting, inappropriate language.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OKAY SO this was originally supposed to be a hefty one shot but after much consideration I've decided it's going to read best as a series so you're getting not one but three parts! Hopefully y'all like it 'cause this is my first time writing for Miguel and I'm kind of nervous? :')))

CHAPTER LIST / NEXT CHAPTER / MASTERLIST

-

 “May, for the millionth time I’m not—“

Before you can even finish, Aunt May’s hands are on her face, pushing on the frustrated expression that laces through her features. She’s annoyed, as per usual. Exhausted, just like the pale and veiny hands that rest beneath the dimness of your dining room light, pulling at wrinkled skin. 

“I just think he’d be good for you, you know? Harry’s nice and attractive and—”

“Norman Osborn’s son?”

“Okay, but it’s not like the boy’s anything like his father.”

“That you’re aware of.”

She opens her mouth, a small huff releasing straight from her chest, knowing already you’ll never budge. You’re too stubborn like your father —like her nephew who so effortlessly had a counter for every argument he wound up tangled in. Like you, he’d fight to the death for every little thing and she knows it, causing her to merely frown. 

“Fine, fine but just know you’re missing out. He’s a real catch.”

You scrunch up your face, resisting the urge to gag knowing how much May chastises you for being childish. You’re an adult now, act like it! You practically hear the words echoing through your mind as you reach for the glass of wine in front of you, gripping the stem tightly as you take a huge gulp.

“Okay then, if not Harry, are there any other men?”

You almost cough into your glass, unprepared to answer. Sure there were men. Here and there you’d had some dates and flings and almost, maybe boyfriends. You played the field like any other twenty-something woman in Brooklyn trying for their shot at love by going out to bars or hopping on dating sites. Like everyone else, you scrolled through the endless faces and bios, picking and choosing your fave ones; having moments of is this the one with far too many boys who turned out to be nothing more than just a memory.

So yes and no, you decide, telling May the latter, knowing if you choose the former she’ll get too excited and start asking questions.

“You know you’re not getting any younger, kid.” 

“I know.” 

You also know that you should be offended. You should be pissed off or annoyed —any sort of negative emotion but all you feel is exhaustion, considering you have this conversation at least once a week. Sometimes twice if you have to drop by May’s or the shelter. 

Every time she sees you it’s as if she needs to put this pressure on you. To throw this burden on your shoulders so that she isn’t the only one thinking of it. Because if you’re thinking about it maybe you’ll do something about it, right?

“You should find someone to love —to settle down with.”

You want to. More than she knows. It’s lonely here in New York, living in your busted-up one-bedroom apartment with a brother who’s never around. Day in and day out you’re forced into a space of solitude you never asked for, moving aimlessly from bedroom to subway car to office and back again. 

It’s not ideal, especially when you have to watch Peter and his double life. Sure, it’s stressful —a burden sometimes more often than not, but at least it’s exciting. At least there’s substance.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed soon. The lab needs me early for testing,” you lie, smiling tiredly, hoping that May won’t notice. 

This time she doesn’t. Or at least, she feels worn down enough not to ask questions. A fact you’re thankful for as she nods her head and kisses your face, saying her usual goodbye before scurrying out the front door with a wave. 

When she’s gone you let out a heavy breath, running your fingers through the roots of your hair. You’re not sure how long you can keep living this way. Flowing from place to place like an aimless ghost. It hurts too much knowing all the potentials. All the crazy things waiting for you just outside your door. More than anything you want to experience them —to live them just like Peter. 

Secretly, you think you want to be like Peter. To be looked at —adored or hated, it doesn’t matter. Desperately, you want a pair of eyes to look at you as something other than you: a tired lab assistant just trying to survive. You want someone to see you, to know your worth in a way that doesn’t involve Petri dishes or DNA swabs. 

You want to feel needed, you decide. Not in a life-changing way per se. More needed in the sense of being someone’s first choice like MJ is for Peter. To have that one person you can rely on and vice versa no matter the circumstance. A ride or die. 

The thought makes you groan into the base of your hands as you pull at your roots, the vibrations against your skin making you pull away. It’s only eight and, embarrassingly enough, you’re ready for bed, your body weighing down in the chair you currently reside in. Already your eyes are starting close, their function slowing decreasing by the second as you reach for your glass of wine and down the rest in one gulp.

It’s disgusting but regardless you pour yourself another, already knowing you’ll need it to actually go to bed. 

You don’t sleep well when Peter’s out.

Blinking tiredly you pull your phone out of your pocket and shoot him a quick text. Are you good?

You don’t expect an answer but still worry when you don’t get one, causing your body to twitch as you continue to sit, downing glass after glass until the bottle’s empty and your head starts to feel like it’s swimming through molasses. 

By then it’s nearing nine. The lights of the city shine brightly through your window as you blink and rub your eyes, taking one last dizzy glance at your phone to see that Peter’s replied. 

He’s fine. What’s your address?

Scrunching up your face, you stare at the words in front of you, sounding out each letter so many times that it begins to blur in your mind. He’s fine, you read, knowing for a fact that Peter would never talk about himself in the third person. 

He’s not that weird.

Quickly, you disregard your rule of no phone calls in favour of answers, listening to the dial tone for a good minute before the other end crackles to life and a sigh pushes through. 

“Pete, what the fuck are you talking about?” 

You can feel your older sister instincts kicking in. Every worrying thought pushes itself through your brain right out of your ears to make room for a rage you haven’t felt in forever. Almost instantly it burns you from the inside out, attacking your chest with hot, heavy beats that have you standing from your chair and moving towards the front door in a rush.

As you do, the voice on the other end mumbles something you don’t quite catch, prompting you to yell. 

“Excuse me? Who are you? And why do you have my brother’s phone?”

“My name doesn’t matter.”

It’s a man on the other line. An older one that sounds almost as angry as you.

“Listen here, pal, I swear to god if you don’t tell me—“

“Peter’s fine. He’s a little banged up but we’ve got it under control. Just give us your address and—“

“We? Who’s we? What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Instead of listening to your demands he just groans again and asks for the address, making you groan right back and give it to him, too overwhelmed to care that some stranger and his friends have decided to take Peter into their mysterious hands. 

After that he hangs up the phone without a goodbye, prompting you to respond with an angry growl that has you stomping all over the house in preparation for guests you weren’t prepared for. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit,” you mumble drunkenly, pacing back and forth through your small living room, unable to sit still knowing that something happened. 

Something happened and you weren’t there to help, like usual. A thought that eats you up inside every time this happens because what can you do? You can’t fight crime like he can —you don’t have powers. You can’t heal his wounds —you’re not medically trained. So really, all you can do is offer him company when MJ isn’t around and rotate his ice packs. Make him food here and there but even that’s difficult when you spend most of your days at the lab.

Essentially you’re just another useless civilian who knows too much, leaving you distraught as you sit on the sidelines, praying to whatever god there is that he arrives home safe.

Thankfully tonight they managed to answer you in some capacity. Instead of dead, he’s just badly injured and as annoyed as you are, you’re still thankful for the outcome. Still thankful for the stranger on the phone despite the angered secrecy. 

You decide when he gets here you’ll apologize for the yelling. It’s the least you can do considering he and his friends probably have to drag poor Peter’s body out of some alleyway across the city. A difficult feat you’ve done a few times over the last decade or so. 

It’s not something you’d ever wish upon anyone. Not even the grumpy stranger over the phone whose gruff voice still rings through your ears as you anxiously move towards the kitchen and open the freezer, checking to see if there are any ice packs readily available. Shuffling through the frozen goods inside, you count four as well as a large bag of frozen vegetables, deciding then that you should probably wait to see the damage before even thinking of running to the pharmacy.

Out of the two of you, you’ve always been the worrier. The one whose mind constantly races at the sign of danger. Peter’s the fight and you’re the flight, and even before he became Spider-Man it had always been that way, which makes the waiting that much harder. The anticipation of what’s to come flooding you in waves of dread that leave you too unsettled to calm down. 

Continually you pace throughout the apartment, moving from kitchen to bedroom to living room in an endless loop that has you swirling around in such a stupor you barely hear the window of your bedroom being tapped on. 

The sound confuses you at first, knowing that it’s most likely just some bird. Peter would never make them take him up the fire escape but then it gets louder —more frantic. The tapping speed doubles as you stand disorientated in the living room, narrowing your eyes as if that’ll help your ears focus.

You realize quickly that it’s a someone tapping and not a something and immediately you spring into action, rushing to your bedroom window to see a trio of bodies all dawned in spider suits of their own. 

It leaves you breathless but still active as you push up the window, breathing out heavy breaths as you watch the smallest of the three —a lithe spider with pink webs stained over white— bound into the room to help pull Peter inside. 

“What took you so long?” 

It’s the voice from the phone, grumbling from the fire escape. He’s taller than the others —thicker. His suit black and red with an emblem that fills his broad chest with bold lines that drape down the front of his arms.

“Give her a break man, she’s probably scared to death.” 

Beside him, another Spider-Man whose suit looks more like Peter’s stands. Both of them grip your brother’s lower half, gently passing them over to the spider in your bedroom, prompting you to rush over to help.

“What the hell happened?”

He’s worse than you’d like to admit. The majority of his mask has been ripped apart. One of his eyes is completely uncovered, blooming with fresh bruises that cause it to swell almost completely shut. On his cheek, he’s got a pretty huge gash along with a few others around his chin and throat.

Immediately, tears begin to form at the corner of your eyes as they all move to lay him on the bed, making sure to be as gentle as possible. 

“It doesn’t matter what happened. What matters is he’s safe. Let’s go.” 

You turn to stare at him —the one who’s already caused you enough grief to last a lifetime. Angrily, you narrow your eyes, fighting the urge to yell as you watch his friends simultaneously shake their heads. 

“Seriously, man?”

“Miguel, you can’t just leave her with this.” 

They speak in unison, both of them matching your unimpressed response as you move in closer, pressing a finger to his chest. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me what happened I’ll kick your ass faster than you can say—“

He pinches the bridge of his nose and gives in, something that feels uncharacteristic even though you’ve just met. “He got a little beat up fighting someone he shouldn’t have, alright?”

“Alright?” you scoff, glancing between the three of them. “No, not alright. Not even a little bit. What do you mean he was fighting someone he shouldn’t have?”

“What do you mean what do you mean? Am I not being clear?”

“Not really, no.” 

He huffs, loudly. A heavy plume of air pushing through his mask. You can feel it fan your face as you take a small step away, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the newfound presence of other spider people. 

You were almost certain Peter was the only one. 

“Maybe one of us should take the reins on this?” The blue and red one asks, prompting the other to nod, motioning for him to take over despite Miguel’s silent protests. 

“Look, we uh, we’re… we’re —how do I even start this? What do you guys usually say?” 

Without missing a beat, the shortest one takes off their mask to reveal a young girl with blonde hair. She looks familiar in a way you can’t quite place, her features bold and big and full of life, giving you a weird sense of deja vu. Have you met her before, you wonder, staring at her eyes and cheeks and mouth, picking apart the details until you’ve decided you definitely have. Somewhere.  

“Hi, I’m Gwen. This is also Peter and Miguel.”

She motions them to take their masks off but Miguel doesn’t budge. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest as Peter awkwardly peels his away, revealing a face that looks almost identical to your brother’s. 

Which obviously sends you into panic mode, seeing the somewhat distorted face of your brother on the body of someone else. It’s older —heavier, maybe. Unlike your Peter, this one’s eyes are filled with exhausted age and crow's feet. His lips are thinner and coated in a thick five o’clock shadow that takes up the lower half of his face. His figure is thicker, holding a bit of a gut but not enough to notice unless you’re staring.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Miguel says, but the two of them continue, moving through the conversation slowly to gauge your response. 

“Your brother isn’t the only Spider-Man,” Gwen tells you. “At least in general. In this universe he is but uh, there are lots of others which is where we’re technically from.”

You look at your brother confused, wondering if he’s always known or if this is newfound information for the both of you. If it’s new, you hope he’s okay. That once he’s awake and able to process everything that this doesn’t send him over the edge of sanity. 

He’s already hanging by a thread as it is. With family and friends and both of his jobs waiting in the wings at any given moment, the poor guy's constantly overworked. If he isn’t taking pictures for the Daily Bugle he’s studying at school or going on patrol as Spider-Man or laying on the floor in a heap of pain.

He doesn’t need any more stress.

“Listen, I appreciate you bringing him here but I think it’s probably best you guys go, yeah?” 

You smile as warmly as you can through the fog of alcohol that has you reeling. Simultaneously, you’re angry and confused —dizzy at the amount of so many new faces. You’re overwhelmed, to say the least, and knowing Peter he’ll end up the same when he wakes up. 

“Of course.” 

It’s the first time Miguel speaks with any sort of sincerity, his tone dulling down to a quiet calmness that sends a chill up your spine as you watch him fiddle with a watch-like mechanism on his wrist. 

In unison, both Gwen and Peter look at you with sombre expressions, their lips pushing into thin lines of almost disapproval as they watch you move towards your brother, completely forgetting that they’re even there. 

“Tell him if he sees anything suspicious to reach out,” Miguel adds, looking directly at you as he says it.

Cautiously, you look back and nod your head, trying to imagine the face underneath. You bet it’s old, based on the never-ending rage that it seems to radiate. He’s got the kind of attitude an old man would have, making you imagine bushy brows and forehead lines that have developed through continuous frowns. You imagine deep scars that have sat untreated for far too long. An overlay of bruises constantly decorating his frame due to misuse of the body. 

Standing next to your Peter, you imagine he’s the kind of guy who acts before he thinks. At the sign of danger, he spontaneously leaps to remedy any given situation regardless of details. He’ll do whatever it takes. 

He’s a fighter just like Peter. 

“It was nice to meet you,” Gwen waves before throwing on her mask. Old Peter does the same and even though you want to smile —to thank them for everything they’ve done, all you can do is nod and watch as Miguel presses the face of his watch, prompting an angular, orange portal to appear right in front of your window. 

The sudden presence of it somehow stirs Peter awake, prompting him to groan next to you. 

Immediately you move to his aid, kneeling near his face with concern as you press the back of your hand to his partially exposed forehead, feeling the beads of sweat that collect rubbing against your skin.

“Are you okay?”

He mumbles under his breath and moves to sit upright despite your protests. Slowly, he catches himself on the edge of the bed and swings his legs to the floor, doubling over in pain to watch as the three of them turn to face him one last time.

“You good, kid?” Old Peter asks.

“Never better,” he says back, moving to grip his stomach with his forearm, a bloodstained smile spilling across his face.

Despite the pain that’ll inevitably heal in the days to come, you know he’s being honest. Thanks to them, he’s never been better and upon hearing that you find yourself frowning, already knowing what that means. 

He wants to see them again. You imagine it’s because, in some capacity or another their appearance has made the burden of his existence easier. For once, their arrival has created a light inside him you’ve only seen one other time. It was when he finally told MJ that he was Spider-Man. 

As cliche as it was, he described it as this weight that had been lifted off his shoulders, and as you watch him smile at his new friends, you know that’s exactly how he feels now knowing that he isn’t the only one going through the motions. No longer is he the only one forced to navigate this life full of tangled webs. No, now he has friends. Partners that can aid him in the development of his career as Spider-Man. 

People that can help him better than you can.

Before they leave Miguel repeats the statement he asked you to relay to Peter. “Call if you see anymore anomalies.” It’s phrased differently. Molded in a way you’re not meant to understand, making you all the more angry as you watch them leave through the portal. 

“What does he mean by anomalies?”

Peter, now without his fellow spiders, winces as he takes off what’s left of his mask, ignoring your question in favour of repositioning himself back on the bed. Shakily, he sighs as he readjusts, trying his best not to disturb the injuries that cover his aching skin. 

“Can you at least tell me what happened?”

He’s silent for a moment, his mouth half open, unable to fully close thanks to the shiner located on the lower half of his cheek. Then, he cranes his neck towards you. “Some Doc Ock from another universe showed up,” he tells you, his voice low. “I was in the middle of dealing with a robbery when he showed up out of nowhere and caught me off guard.” 

You swallow hard, watching him lick his lips. They’re dry and cracked and covered in old blood that makes you want to cry because you hate seeing him like this. So tired and broken. 

“He didn’t look like our Doc. He was skinnier —younger. And his tech was completely different. He kept talking about me, or I guess his version of me and I was so confused.”

“Mhm.”

“He got me a couple times. Threw me around but then they showed up and I guess sent him back home. I don’t know, by then I’d blacked out.”

His story is easy enough to follow but still leaves you with questions. How did this Doc Ock jump into your universe? Did he have one of those bracelets? Did Peter have one? And if so, has he too gone to different universes?

The urge to bombard him with every single thought that races through your mind settles as you hear his strained breath, reminding you he’s in pain. Quickly, it resets the order of important tasks in your brain, sending you flying towards the kitchen to grab every ice pack you own and start stacking them along Peter’s wounds. 

Carefully you place one along the huge gash on his face, moving his hand to hold it steady before moving to his chest and placing one on either side of his ribs. 

“Are you okay? Like actually, no lying.” 

“Yeah, are you?”

You’re not. Not in the slightest. In fact, if it weren’t for the state he was in you’d be screaming by now, demanding more answers. Something he knows by the way you curtly nod your head instead of speaking. 

“I’m sorry, Miguel can be a lot.” 

Like always, it’s as if he’s read your mind, making you roll your eyes and scoff. “Are you friends with that guy?”

“Not really. I’m only really friends with Peter and Gwen. Everyone else are kind of like coworkers. They’re nice and we get along but aside from work we don’t keep much contact.”

“Aside from like, anomaly stuff?”

“Yeah.” 

It’s weird to uncover such a big secret from your own brother. He’s never been the type to keep things to himself, at least with you. So why this? Why them? 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure, but make it quick I’m about to fall asleep.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me about them?”

If it weren’t for the pain radiating through his shoulder you’re almost certain Peter would’ve responded with a shrug. A wordless movement of uncertainty that he instead replaces with a soft I don’t know that has you imagining Miguel and his idiotic mask telling him to keep his mouth shut.

“Was it Miguel?” 

It’s an uncomfortable statement to say out loud —an even more uncomfortable one to have confirmed as you watch Peter nod his head, a guilty expression plastered over his face. It makes you feel almost guilty yourself as you try your best not to explode at the thought of some asshole telling your brother what to do. At the thought of him controlling what he can and cannot tell you about his life. 

You wonder if it’s illegal for regular people like you to universe hop. It probably is but that doesn’t stop you from imagining a world where it isn’t anyway. A world where you rush through a portal of your own to find Miguel on the other side.

You’d give him a piece of your mind if you could, scold him for ever thinking he could keep such a broad existence a secret. You’d push that stupidly broad chest with all your force and tell him what’s what. That no matter how important he is amongst the spiders, you’re still Spider-Man’s sister and deserve the right to know what’s going on. 

“He’s not all bad, you know.”

Giving him an unimpressed look, you watch as he smiles, a small laugh pushing through his lips. 

“No, I’m serious. Sure, he’s a little rough around the edges but he means well.” 

“How so?” 

You’re unconvinced but still curious. Who wouldn’t be after discovering the existence of other universes? 

“He cares about people in his own way. Kind of like you.”

“Me?” 

Should you be offended? 

“What I mean is, he’s only mean because he cares like you. You guys have that same intensity.”

You scrunch up your face. “I’m not intense.” 

Peter snorts as he rolls onto his side, hugging one of the ice packs as he moves to direct his back towards you, thus signalling the end of the conversation. 

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, sis.”

-

Peter isn’t answering your texts and it’s starting to stress you out. 

Across from you, Harry and Gwen sit chatting amongst themselves, sipping on what’s most likely their fourth or fifth drinks based on the way they’re leaning in and giggling as you call your brother for the ninth time.

It’s been nearly a month since the incident —two weeks since he started patrolling again— and despite knowing he never answers his phone, you’re still worried. He told you he’d be here an hour ago to escort you home. Something he always did when you got dragged out by the rest of the Oscorp staff. Being a woman, wandering the streets of New York at night wasn’t an option and even though you were technically a geneticist for a mega-corporation you weren’t about to cough up at least fifty bucks to get home, so Peter was agreed to be the next best thing. 

Or at least, he was supposed to be. 

By now you’re well past drunk. Your head is heavy and you can’t stop squirming in your chair because of how restless you feel. Your skin is hot under the fluorescents of the bar lights, their weird shade of neon pink beating down on you like a synthetic sun.

“I think we’re gonna head out,” you hear Harry say. 

You must’ve zoned out because both he and Gwen are already standing, grabbing their coats off the back of their chairs with grins too big to be deemed anything other than mischievous. 

You know immediately they’re going back to his place to fuck. It’s what always happens when Gwen drinks too much and decides that, just this once, she’ll indulge the boss's son. Unfortunately, though, this is probably the fifth time in the last year that this has happened, leaving you certain it’s more of a common occurrence than she lets on. 

“Is Pete still coming to get you?” Gwen asks.

You nod your head, unwilling to admit that he probably isn’t. That instead of flying through the air you’ll most likely be forking over way too much money to sit in some dingy car that smells like piss. 

“Okay, text me tomorrow. Let’s go for brunch!”

The two of them leave hand-in-hand, a detail that doesn’t go unnoticed as you continue to stare, trying to decide how the hell all of that started. It’s not like they’re friendly to each other. At work, Gwen is constantly complaining about Harry’s silver-spoon upbringing. Talking about how privileged he is despite her dad being the police commissioner.

A detail you’re always tempted to bring up, knowing that neither of them has ever truly known what it's like to struggle. Having grown up in big houses with paid tuitions and a never-ending family to love, their lives are completely separate from yours.

It’s why you resent them so much, you think, because growing up, you and Peter never had that. When you were young your parents abandoned you with May and Ben, falling off the face of the earth soon after. Back then you always wondered why but now you know it’s because they weren’t ready. They were young and in love and despite thinking they wanted to extend that love into children, it became quickly obvious they’d made a mistake. A mistake May offered to fix.

You liked May but she wasn’t your mom. Same with Ben. As time went on, you let them think they were your real parents, listening to them when they gave you advice; following their rules so long as you lived under their roof. You didn’t call them mom or dad but you respected them as if you did. At least up until Ben died and Peter got powers and everything got sort of complicated after that. 

And since then, it continued to be complicated. Each year that passed, something new and strange always happened, leaving you there to try and pick up the pieces. 

Most of it always involved Peter. Peter becoming Spider-Man; Peter nearly dying to Doc Ock; Peter nearly dying to Vulture; Peter nearly getting infected by Venom. It was like clockwork year after year, tending to the needs of your brother while trying to live a normal life. 

You couldn’t imagine how he felt. Sure, things were hard for you but for him? God, it must be hell.

Which is why you feel so guilty for phoning him. He’s probably busy dealing with some more important shit like stopping murders or break-ins or maybe even more anomalies. 

You really hope he’s not dealing with the last one. Because if he is it means Miguel’s in town. 

God, you hate that guy.

After the incident, Peter updated you on pretty much the whole anomaly thing. Apparently, in another dimension, there was this headquarters where spider people from all over the universe came to report various issues with their home worlds. 

Overall, the details were a bit confusing —you remember Peter saying something about them being a secret society and that Miguel was their leader but not much else stuck because honestly after that you sort of zoned out. At least until he mentioned that he was officially a part of it all, earning himself his own little watch. 

Upon hearing that, a part of you was proud. A much bigger part though, was skeptical, considering your immediate distrust of Miguel. In that one meeting alone he was rude and weird and you didn’t want Peter hanging out with him.

Not that you had any say, because Peter does what Pete does and that’s fine even though he can be a little bit too trusting —the kind of guy that always sees the good in people. Opposite to you, his trust is extended to whoever, whenever which you know is what ultimately makes him a good Spider-Man. People see that and immediately think of safety —of security in a situation that otherwise isn’t.

As a true New Yorker, you trust no one. Not even the guy that steals the seat across from you with a smile. 

“You here alone?” 

Your phone is still pressed to your ear as you stare him down, the line continuously ringing over and over and over again until it goes to voicemail and you lazily repeat the process. As you do, you continue to pay little mind to the man in front of you, merely watching him glance around the building, a glass of beer tucked tightly in his hand. 

“You calling your boyfriend?”

“Nope” 

“Girlfriend?”

You shake your head and he grins in the way that hyenas do when they’ve found fresh meat. Under the bar lights, his teeth look malicious and jagged, taunting you in a way that makes you internally nervous but externally confident. 

On the outside, you do your best impression of someone brave. Someone like Peter or even Miguel. Your forehead scrunches to form unimpressed lines, your eyes narrowing to match the way your lips tightly push together. 

Across from you, the man continues to grin despite this, looking you up and down and up again with a fire so fully lit inside his eyes you can already feel the oncoming burn.

You hang up and decide to call May. It’s a last resort, knowing that once that phone rings even once you’re in for an earful. You shouldn’t be out so late, kid, you know better! 

Even though you’re in your mid-twenties May still chastises you about the dangers of the city. Working with those less fortunate, you assume it’s because she’s seen some shit. The city’s a fucked up place as you know from both her and Peter but it’s not like you’re unprepared to handle it. You always have a plan! A getaway or an escape route. It’s not your fault that tonight’s plan accidentally fell through.

As you go through your contacts to click on May’s number another body takes the seat next to you. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

The voice sounds nicer than you remember, almost pleasant despite who it’s attached to. Awkwardly, you lock your phone and turn to look, noticing the unfamiliar features of a man you’ve grown to hate. 

Damn it, he’s attractive. And not nearly as old as you imagined him. He’s probably mid-thirties tops, you guess, surveying the texture of his tanned skin. It’s nice. Not as aged as Old Peter’s but you can see some of the same lines around his eyes as he glances between you and the man across.

“Can I help you?”

Miguel’s expression says it all. Fuck off. You can see it in the way his dark brows pinch towards the top of his long nose, showcasing his anger. The kind that’s almost impossible to replicate, the man quickly discovers, prompting him to merely sigh and leave the table, admitting defeat.

Once he’s gone you let out a heavy breath and sink in your seat. Never in your life did you think you’d be happy to see Miguel, and yet here you are. 

“Thank you.” 

Without so much as a glance, he stands from his chair and motions to the exit with his chin. Like usual, he’s got an air of arrogance you can’t quite stand, leaving you annoyed again as you roll your eyes and grab your coat off the back of your seat. 

He’s halfway out the door by the time you catch up to him. Your head, still drunk off the many pints of cheap beer you’d downed throughout the night, sloshes through the crowded room until it smacks dab right into Miguel’s back, prompting him to turn with a glare. 

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” he says. 

Despite wanting to, you don’t protest. Instead, you just follow him out of the building and down the street where he cuts into an abandoned alleyway and stops, checking on you with concerned eyes. 

“If I didn’t already know you were also Spider-Man I’d definitely be freaked out right now,” you say, trying your best not to slur as you lean against the wall of one of the buildings. The brick feels cool against your face.

“How much did you drink in there?” 

“At least five but probably more?”

“Five what?”

You shrug. There’s a moment of silence after that. One where you can feel your eyes fluttering in and out of focus, watching the way Miguel places his hands on his hips and stares you down. 

You can tell that he hates you now, officially. What once was merely a single conversation gone bad has turned to two which means you’re now considered a burden. A problem.

His problem. 

“I’m going to assume that travelling by air is a no-go,” he says; sighing because it means he’s probably going to have to walk you home.

Which you’re sure he doesn’t want to do considering he’s in charge of all the spider people. He’s probably got better things to do than to walk home his employee’s sister. 

“Where’s Peter?”

You’re on the move again before you know it, walking at Miguel’s side, watching the way he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“He’s out with the others. Another anomaly showed up when you called. He was busy so he asked me to come get you.” 

“Why’d he ask you?” 

Unfortunately for both of you, your filter is absolutely obliterated. Gone with the drinks you’d downed throughout the night. Every aspect of the embarrassment you’d usually feel right now is gone, your innermost thoughts quickly bubbling to the surface like the head of your last beer. 

Miguel, realizing this, shrugs it off and continues walking. Every so often he has to stop to make sure you’re alright —you are most of the time, but every third or fourth time you begin to slow he watches as you double over knowing that you’re probably going to throw up. 

“You good?”

Slowly you crawl to the ground until you’re on all fours, your hands gripping the edge of the sidewalk despite knowing how dirty it is. Beneath your palms and it’s cold and damp from the rain, prompting you to gag even harder because that means there’s probably mud on your hands. Dirty, gross mud from the bottom of people’s shoes. 

You feel a hand on your back. Carefully, it rubs a line back and forth along your spine, causing you to inhale and exhale and focus on the sudden calmness of his voice. 

“You’ll probably feel better if you just let it out.” 

“Mhm.”

“I know it’s gross but I promise it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

As if he’s blessed you with the promise of no judgement, you vomit on the ground, feeling your throat burn with the familiar acidity. As you recover, he continues to rub your back in long, slow movements, making you thankful that at this moment he doesn’t hate you.

Or at least, he chooses not to show it. 

“Thank you, again,” you mumble. 

This time he at least nods, acknowledging your words as he helps pull you to your feet, giving you one final pat on the back before you continue to walk in silence.

-

Miguel insists on staying until Peter’s back, despite your protests. 

His face, heavy with exhaustion looks at you, unwilling to budge on the matter as he pushes himself through the door. “Peter told me to take care of you,” he tells you. “So I’m gonna do that, okay? End of story.”

Now that you’re somewhat sober from the long walk home, you can feel all the hatred you have for him flowing through your system. Sure, he may have walked you home —comforted you in a difficult time but he’s still a dick. Under that sympathetic Spider-Man act he’s still the man that makes you want to scream every time Peter mentions him.

“Fine, but the second you hear anything from Peter you have to tell me.” You wag your finger at him intensely as you wander to the kitchen, feeling your mouth begin to dry up from the amount of water you’ve managed to avoid all night. 

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

He sits on the couch without another word, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. Underneath, his watch emits a warm toned glow, prompting you to look over as he presses the face revealing a small hologram lady. 

“Wow, so nice of you to finally drop by! What’d you do, take her out for more drinks?”

Miguel groans and leans back into the couch, his body practically melding into the cushions. “Is there any news about the anomaly?” 

The woman crosses her arms over her chest and gives him a look —one you can’t quite place as she pulls the pink-heart glasses down the bridge of her nose. “I’ll tell you but only if you tell me how your night went.” 

Her voice is full of mischief, causing Miguel’s head to practically smack into the back of your couch, his eyes finding refuge in the ceiling. He’s embarrassed, you realize then. Probably because instead of being the superhero like everyone else he was demoted to babysitter. 

“The night was fine. She threw up, we walked home, end of story. Update, please.”

“We walked home, huh?” She wiggles her brows and darts around, the light from the watch moving around to get what you assume is a better look at your apartment. “Is she there?”

Even though his head is still hung uncomfortably over the edge of the couch, Miguel still manages to threaten you with his eyes. A warning you reluctantly accept as you move further into the kitchen, making sure you’re out of view.

“She’s sleeping.”

“Ooh, and did you tuck her—“

“Lyla, can I please just get an update?” 

You’ve never heard him so defeated. So tired. It’s like all the fire inside of him has suddenly burnt out and all that’s left is the remnants of ash. His eyes are almost closing without warning, threatening to cut him off from the outside world as Lyla tells him about someone named Hobie and how he’s with your brother. 

Apparently, they’re on Earth-58163. Another universe you know nothing about and probably never will because Peter refuses to talk about it. He always tells you it’s too complicated to explain —too intricate. “If I tried, it’d probably break your brain,” he tells you, brushing off the conversation time and time again. 

It’s annoying in a way that makes you feel like you’re kids again, the child-like jealousy overthrowing your desire to be a good person and just drop it. You need to know more. To understand how this all works so that you’re not just some outsider looking in like usual. 

When you hear Miguel say goodbye to Lyla you practically sprint over to the couch and plop down beside him, deciding that if Peter won’t tell you, you’ll go right to the source. 

“What’s your universe like?” 

There’s still a buzz sitting at the back of your brain, egging you on to set aside your differences in favour of answers. 

“That’s classified.” 

“Classified? Are you serious?”

“Yes, that’s why I said it?”

He doesn’t understand that you’re making fun of him. Or, at least, if he does, he refuses to comment.

“Peter never tells me anything about you guys.” You sink into the couch like Miguel, your arms resting limply on either side of you. “It’s not fair.” 

“Life’s not fair, niña.” 

You scrunch up your face. “I’m not a kid, old man.” 

“Are you under the age of thirty?” He raises his brow. 

“Yes.” 

“Niña.” 

There’s a moment where you think about reaching over and smacking him in the face. Just a small, lightly placed tap, similar to the one you give Peter when he’s being annoying, but immediately you retract such thoughts knowing he’d probably just yell at you. 

“Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I’m a kid.”

“No but it means other things.”

“Like?”

His head turns to face you, his cheek half pushed into the backing of the couch. “That you’re inexperienced.”

“I’ll have you know I’m actually very experienced.”

“That’s what someone inexperienced would say.” 

“Says the guy who runs a secret society of spider people and still manages to get benched for the night.”

You expect him to yell at you then. To suddenly uproot himself from the couch and give you the kind of lecture May would but instead he just snorts and shakes his head, moving to rest the back of his head on the couch again. 

It confuses you if you’re honest. You don’t know Miguel in the slightest, but based on what you’ve heard you assume he’s the kind of guy who harbours a high temper and an unrealistic demand of respect. A boss in every aspect of his life. Because of this, you assume he can’t take a joke. That he doesn’t understand the concept of teasing or banter because his ego takes it too seriously. 

It throws you a bit, your mind suddenly questioning all your previous opinions. You suppose then it isn’t fair to judge him so harshly. Considering the job title, he’s probably under a lot of stress. With such a high volume of people looking to him for guidance, it’s more than likely Peter’s right. He’s not that bad. 

“Okay, well, if you won’t tell me about your universe because you think I’m inexperienced will you tell me about you?”

He’s silent. Or at least dormant, his breath steadily flowing as he slides further and further into the couch. You can tell then that his body is hanging by a thread of consciousness, subtly stirring in pace with his breathing. Slowly, his chest rises and falls, pushing his elbows in tandem as his mouth begins to fall open, making you yawn. 

It’s probably best you go to bed too, you decide, considering the only reason you’re still awake is to get information. If your informant is out cold there’s no sense in prolonging the inevitable, so instead of delaying you quietly stand and stretch your back. Loudly, it cracks, creaking with an age you’re certain now that Miguel would chastise you for. “You’re too young to be creaking like that,” he’d probably say. 

Another yawn filters through as you wander over to your bedroom and grab an extra blanket, throwing it over your shoulders like a shawl as you walk back to Miguel. 

“What are you doing?”

His voice scares the shit out of you, making you jump and embarrassingly let out a shocked squeal, your heart pounding violently in your chest. 

He’s still frozen in place but this time his eyes are half-opened, looking at you with interest. 

“Getting you a blanket.” 

“I don’t need a blanket.” 

“Okay, well, I didn’t know that? I’m not a mindreader.” 

“Why not?”

He may not be Peter Parker in his universe but he certainly retains the same sarcasm, leaving you annoyed as you tear the blanket off and toss it onto his head. 

“Goodnight, old man.” 

“Goodnight, niña.”

-

TAGGING: @fandxmslxt69 (if you'd like to be added fill out this form)

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Bloody Beetle | Part Eight

Summary: you and Layla race to free Khonshu, before Harrow frees Ammit

Pairing: none really

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Ammit being manipulative, Harrow being Harrow, death...

A/N: can't lie, I barely proof read this because I just wanted to get it posted. im sorry it took so long!! as always spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

Part Seven | Series Masterlist

- - - - -

“Layla?” Your voice sounds as weak as you feel as you look up at Layla. Her face full of concern as she moves the blanket that Harrow used to cover you. 

“Oh thank God” she breathes a sigh of relief, helping you to get up out of the car. “What did he do to you?” 

“I’ll explain later. We have to stop him!” 

Layla explains her plan to you as the two of you make your way up the side of the pyramid to the opening created by Harrow. Get inside, find and realise Khonsu. Hope that he can somehow bring Marc back. The weakness in your body caused by his staff makes you stumble on the bricks a few times, but Layla helps you and eventually you make it inside the pyramid. Avoiding Harrow and his disciples you find the place where Khonshu’s ushabti is kept. You peer around the wall to see Harrow smash Ammit’s ushabti on the ground. Bright purple smoke swirls through the tomb as the giant crocodile goddess appears. Harrow and his disciples kneel before her. She is terrifying. 

“Got it!” Layla say as she grabs Khonshu’s ushabti, places it on the ground and stamps on it. Smoke pours out of it and forms a tall figure with a bird skull for a head, holding a large crescent moon staff. He looks down at the two of you. 

“I do not sense Marc Spector in this world. He died fighting no doubt.”

“Fighting your war!” Layla replies angrily.

“Can you bring him back?” You ask.

“I don't know. If Marc is truly gone, I am in need of an avatar. Would you Layla El-Faouly protect the travellers of the night…”

“Are you joking?!” She hisses. “You turned Marc’s life into a waking nightmare. Why would I ever sign up for that?”

“Because you won’t win against Harrow and Ammit alone.” 

“I’ll take my chances.”

Khonshu looks at you and you just shake your head. He sighs. 

“Marc was in crisis over you two. His lack of focus got him killed. You need a plan, little bugs. What I offer…”

“I don't care what you can offer. Marc didn’t trust you. We don't trust you.” Layla takes a step closer to him now. “We will work together without you enslaving us.”

“We must rebind Ammit. Only an avatar can do it.”

“We said no.” 

Khonshu sighs before disappearing in a swirl of smoke. You peer back around the wall again in time to see Khonshu appear in front of Ammit, blocking her and her disciples from leaving. Harrow looks around. 

“There’s someone else here. Find who released him.” Harrow orders and his disciples split off to start searching. 

“Khonshu’s just given us away. We don't have much time before they find us.” You whisper to Layla as you move back behind the stone wall. “We need a plan.” 

Layla takes a look around the wall before turning back to you. “Osiris’ avatar is still alive. If I could get to him he may be able to help.” You move closer to her, peering around to see the injured man struggling to drag himself across the ground. Looking around you see two of Ammit’s disciples getting closer. 

“They’re getting closer.” 

“We need a distraction.” Layla thinks out loud and you get an idea. You don't like it and you're not totally sure it will work but it’s all you’ve got right now. 

“Okay.” Is all you say before you move to step out from behind the wall.

"What are you doing?” Layla grabs your arm. “They will kill you.” 

“He won’t.” You look her in the eyes. “Harrow won’t hurt me.”

“He already has, I mean, look at you. You can barely stand.”

“What other choice do we have? If they get to that man they will kill him. If they find you they will kill you too. But Harrow…” you pause, not wanting to admit what you're about to say “Harrow has feelings for me. He admitted it. He won’t let them hurt me.”

“Are you sure about this?” Layla asks after a moment. 

“What other choice do we have?” You repeat, sadder this time and Layla just stares back at you. She knows you're right. “Do what you can to save them.”

Layla nods and gives you a hug before you pull away and step out. You take a few short painful steps before the two disciples spot you and come running over, harshly grabbing your arms and dragging you away. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see Layla pulling the injured avatar to safety. At least the distraction worked. 

— — — — 

“We found her.” 

“Y/N?” Harrow looks at you in horror. “How are you here?” 

“Guess I’m stronger than you think.”

“And who do we have here?” Ammit clicks and the disciples holding you push you to the ground, forcing you to kneel. You wince as your knees hit the cold stone floor and you keep your head down, not wanting anyone to see the pain on your face. You feel a clawed hand stroke the back of your head. “Look at me, little weakling.” When you don't do as she says, her fingers grip your hair and pull you head back so your forced to look up at her scaly green face. Her yellow eyes piercing into yours. “I recognise you. I’ve seen your scales before. And yet here you are, still breathing… Why is that?” 

She whips her head to the side to face Harrow, but her grip remains firm on you. 

“My goddess, forgive me.” Harrow says. You glance at him, he looks visibly shaken.

“You kept this one alive?” Ammit asks and Harrow nods. “ Despite my orders. Explain yourself.” 

“He kept her alive cause he fancies her.” A voice in the crowd calls out before Arthur has chance to speak, one of the disciples steps forward. “I’d have happily done it for him, but he told us anyone who hurt her would be dead.” You understand now why everyone avoided you at meal times and around the camp. Harrow had threatened them. 

“It’s true, I do have feelings for her.” Harrow says. “My heart cares for her more than anyone I have encountered before. And that has stopped me from carrying out my duty to you, my goddess. I understand if you decide that I am unfit to be your avatar and choose someone else to carry out what lies ahead.”

“Hmmmm” a low, almost growl like hum comes from Ammit as she loosens her grip slightly, caressing your hair as she thinks. “You are only human.” She moves her hand around to stroke your face “All humans have weakness, and she is yours.” She lets go of you and you slump down slightly, your body aching still kneeling on the ground as she walks toward Harrow. “Up until now you have proved yourself to be loyal, you have judged a great many unbalanced souls in my name. Therefore you won’t be punished.” 

“Thank you goddess-” Harrow starts but Ammit places one of her large fingers on his lips.

“But there is something you must do before we continue.” She leans down close to him and whispers something, causing Harrow to widen his eyes as he stares at you. She holds out her hand. A small ornate dagger appears in it. 

“I can’t.” Harrow is shaking.

“You must.” Is all she says as she hands him the dagger and steps back to watch. He looks at you and you know what she has told him to do. 

He has to kill you. 

“You don't have to do this.” You say quietly as he begins to slowly walk towards you, gripping the dagger tightly in his trembling hands. “Remember what you said to me in the car, what you told me. Why you kept me alive.”

“She doesn’t deserve this, she hasn’t done anything wrong.” Harrow says, turning his back on you to face Ammit.

“But she will.” Ammit replies.

“Spare her. Please.” He stands in front of you now, almost shielding you from her view as you cower on the floor behind him. “I beg you goddess, spare her life like you spared mine and I will never question you again.”

“She has to die.”

“WHY?!” Harrow shouts now. “What could she possibly do in the future that is so bad that she deserves this?!” 

“She will be the one to kill you.” 

An eery silence falls on the room.

“No” you say quietly as you try to stand, your legs wobbling under you “no, no, I- I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t kill anyone. I couldn’t, Arthur I would never-”

He turns to face you, the shock making you stumble backwards, you trip over yourself and fall back down.

“You love her, but she doesn’t love you.” Ammit says. “I’ve seen in her heart. She doesn’t even like you. She pretends to tolerate you so that you’ll keep her alive. But in the end, she will betray you. And it will be your undoing.”

“She’s lying.” You stare up at him as he stands over you. There’s pain and betrayal in his face. He believes her. “She’s manipulating you Arthur!” 

“How long have you known me? How long have you known her?” Ammit purrs as she comes to stand behind Harrow. “When have I ever lied to you?”

He continues to look at you without speaking. 

“I’m not going to kill you.” You say, shaking your head. “Please… Arthur…”

He holds his empty hand out for you to take. You let out a small sigh, placing your hand in his. He gently pulls you up so you're almost standing face to face with him, and you give him a small smile.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, a quick flash of purple light in his eyes.

Suddenly the wind is knocked from you as the dagger plunges into your stomach. You place your hands where the pain is, looking down to see them coated in red.

“Arthur…” you look back at him again in shock, Ammit’s face smiling over his shoulder as you drop back down to the ground, curling up on yourself into a ball.

“Now you have proven your loyalty to me, we can begin to cleanse the world.” Ammit says, turning her back on you and walking towards the exit. Harrow continues to look down coldly at you for a moment before turning away and following Ammit out of the tomb, leaving you to die. 

You hear your name and roll over just in time to see Layla running towards you before you can no longer keep your eyes open and you finally slip away into darkness. 

the end

...just kidding... Part Nine :)

Taglist :  @sleepylunarwolf / @ahookedheroespureheart / @sleepyamaya / @spicydonut25 / @kult6 / @uncle-eggy / @malaanii/ @toracainz / @pinkiestwinkie / @galacticstxrdust / @mateihavenoidea / @xmariakx / @oscarissac2099 / @whycantwebefriendz / @parkeepingparker

(if you want to be added to the taglist please let me know!)

[suspensefulpen]

Whumpcember Day 4: Hidden Injury

TW: Blood

@whumpcember

Whumpee winced as they limped down the hall. They did their best to straighten up their walk. No one needed to see them walking like this. They’d successfully hid all of the injuries when they finally returned back to the base. No one on the team noticed. But of course, they were still worried sick about them. Caretaker more than anyone else. That’s when they were interrogated about their disappearance. They quickly reassured everyone they just needed some alone time and that they didn’t mean to frighten them. They all seemed to buy it. All, except Caretaker. 

It seemed as if nothing could get past her. That’s when she started to ask about it when they were alone. Checking on Whumpee, asking if they were feeling okay, if they were hurt. Obviously, Whumpee denied every single time. She soon stopped asking. Not even bothering to silently ask with just a glance. She didn’t say a word about it. As a result, she got more quiet around Whumpee. There were even two times they weren’t aware she was still in the room. Now they’ve been that much more cautious. 

All of this just made Whumpee more and more tense. They couldn’t keep up with all their façades. Not only did they have hide their limp, they also had to hide their bruises, scars and every bit of pain they felt from just breathing. They weren’t sure how long they’d be able to keep it up. To keep it from being obvious, they just kept their distance from the rest of the team. Hiding in their room and avoiding coming out until everyone was away. 

Right now they weren’t sure where exactly everyone was. It was completely silent so they assumed that everyone had gone out to take care of errands or priorities. 

Whumpee shuffled around in search of a snack. They wheezed in pain as they reached up on the higher shelves. Usually, reaching wouldn’t be that much of a problem. Especially with Whumpee’s height. But with all the throbbing, aches and stinging, it felt more like a task. They had to pause for a moment in the middle of reaching. The world suddenly began to spin and they felt as if they were falling backwards. Whumpee grabbed their head, leaning over the table in hopes of making the sensations stop. They couldn’t take all of this. Everything was hurting. When their vision finally stilled and focused properly, Caretaker was standing nearby with a look of pure shock and horror. 

“You lied…” 

Whumpee quickly forced themself to stand upright. They cleared their throat, holding back a wince. “Caretaker… I-I didn’t see you there! I thought you had gone out with the others.” 

“I can’t believe you… Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Look, Caretaker, it doesn’t matter. I’m fine. Nothing is wrong.” 

“Nothing is wrong?!” She repeated. “I’ve stood here and watched you grunt in pain eight times. Don’t lie to me and say nothing is wrong!” 

“Well there isn’t anything wrong. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Don’t worry about it? Whumpee, you think you’re invincible? You think I think you’re invincible? I know you’re in pain. I know something is wrong. But I let you keep lying to me, thinking you were only doing it because the others were around and you’d say something when you’re ready. Clearly, you don’t understand the severity of injuries and what they can do to you. Why won’t you just let someone take care of you? No one is going to look down on you for it. Stop thinking that they will!” 

Whumpee went silent, attempting to keep themself steady. They inhaled somewhat sharply, flinching. “Caretaker-” 

“I don’t want to hear any more excuses from you. I’m going to look at you and you’re not going to fight me off. Now let’s get you to a couch.” She wrapped an arm around them, helping them to a seat. Whumpee tightly shut their eyes as she reached for their jacket. 

“Caretaker-” 

“Hush.” She unzipped it before lifting up the black shirt underneath. A thinner, white shirt was underneath that. Well, it wasn’t white anymore. Bloodstains were everywhere on the shirt. The deep red made her nervous to know what the wounds the blood was coming from looked like. She glanced under the shirt and tears joined the horror in her eyes. “What in your right mind made you think lying to me about this was a good idea?"

[multi-fandomsfreak]

Movie!Knuckles discovering echidna!reader after losing his tribe

(Movie!Knuckles x Echidna!Reader)

Love the idea thanks for the request 😊👍

Not going to lie I literally just woke up like a few minutes ago at the time writing this part so excuse the mistakes ~Blaze/Dawn

Also happy new year everyone hopefully it won’t be as crazy as last year.

Notes: I actually managed to save the request for this post and the next two so yeah

PART 2

Pronouns: they/them

Warning: ⚠️spoilers for knuckles background story in sonic movie 2⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Knuckles + Mentions of Knuckles tribe

Proof Read: ❌

Credit: Banner by freakmia_ on Pinterest + Icon by BlueEyedJinSoul375 on Pinterest

—————————————————

- Every day is just the same for knuckles ever since losing his tribe it’s been a endless cycle of nothing but walking through forest looking for things in order to survive another day. He’s gotten used to this feeling of being alone even though he sometimes wishes that one day he’ll wake up and realise that it was all a dream.

- Although he is thankful for his father for preventing him from going with him and his other members which also prevented his possible demise he also wishes that he was able to travel back and do the same for him but no matter how long he can think of all the possible things that can prevent the incident he knows deep down that he can’t do anything about it

- However today was the day that the endless cycle knuckles has been going through will be broken. At first it started the same waking up, making himself something to eat etc. After a while he decided to take a break and have a walk through the forest to clear his mind. He likes walking through forests if he wanted to find a way to calm his nerves he likes to walk through the forest.

- That’s when the peace was broken he heard something or someone else walking through the forest that wasn’t him. His body suddenly alerted at the noise “who’s there?” Knuckles shouted preparing for a fight “don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you” a voice came from the other side of a bush “come out from the bush then coward” knuckles once again shouted not believing what the voice was saying. That’s when the thing came out and it was…another echidna?

- The sight of another echidna froze knuckles, ‘this can’t be?’ He thought to himself after all these years of being alone he finally found another of his kind. “Are you alright?” The other echidna questioned afraid that they have done something wrong. Knuckles couldn’t help but move closer, he didn’t want to believe it but his eyes weren’t lying there was another echidna. He felt a tear exit from his eye “what’s the matter? Your crying?” That’s when knuckles brought the mysterious echidna into a hug “have we met before?” The echidna stammered out at the surprise hug. “I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s been a few years since I’ve seen another echidna” knuckles loosened the hug “oh I’m sorry I didn’t realise” the other echidna express sadness “what’s your name?” They asked “oh apologies I’m knuckles” knuckles introduced himself “I’m [NAME] nice to meet you knuckles” you smiled at knuckles

- “What’s gotten you out here [NAME]?” Knuckles asked you “oh I was bored so I decided to have a walk through this forest” “do you have a tribe as well?”Knuckles asked wanting to learn more about you “no not really I’m more of an independent person if you get what I mean” “well if you don’t mind do you want to work together or along the lines of that if you don’t mind” that sounds fun I’d love to” you agreed to knuckles terms to which knuckles gave you a slight smile. After all this time his dream finally came true and there is no way in hell he’ll let it get ruined

—————————————————

[zwy01]

Blood Moon AU!! Part 2 - Werewolves

Second part of my second major AU, Blood Moon AU. The nobles and werewolves basically have a race swap in an almost brand new setting.

For more info, check out my first post where I explained the general lore and setting of this AU (highly recommended for a better understanding because characters in this post reference characters in the one linked below here):

I didn’t do every character because there’s a lot of them, so I left out ones that don’t have major roles in the story. If they have a name in canon, then they all exist in this AU, just that I haven’t named/drawn them yet. Maybe in the future if I feel like it. But for now, this is pretty much it.

The characters.

Peach: Current Lord of the Werewolves. Adoptive father of twins Ruth and Rosemary. Peach isn’t his real name. No one knows what his real name is. He never mentions it, and he simply smiles and doesn’t answer when asked. Peach is just the nickname the werewolves came up for him at some point because his face is covered in small fuzzy hairs which gives him the appearance of a fresh peach. And no one can really recall how he became Lord. It just sort of happened. The werewolves all agreed that he’s good for the job, and the throne became his in the blink of an eye. Okay then, sigh, fiiiiine, he’ll do it. The werewolves seem quite happy about it. It’s almost like they all voted on him. And the previous Lord has had enough and decided it was time for him to retire and enjoy the rest of his days with his family, so he was more than enthusiastic to step down and hand things over to Peach. Peach was confused about being put into a leadership role out of the blue, but he adjusted very well and does a good job of caring for his people. Perhaps the werewolves realized that physical strength is not the only attribute of a good leader. Maybe this is what they call change, and that they have evolved from the old ways. Anyways, Peach does qualify for role of Lord since he is decent at fighting and an impressive warrior, but his greatest strengths lie in his communication skills and diplomatic nature when it comes to problem solving and negotiation.

Peach is responsible for communicating with Marcus and his fellow nobles of the secret noble organization regarding transportation and distribution of resources from Lukedonia to werewolf island. Peach is eternally grateful to Marcus and his allies for going as far as to betray their noble Lord and in the process risk their own lives to help the werewolves survive and thrive in these trying times. The werewolves do have their own means of production, but it’s not enough and they need some extra help. And Marcus and his nobles answered. Peach just can’t thank them enough. Peach is also good friends and pen pals with Marcus. They call each other “Peachy” and “Maduke” in their letters.

Peach puts his own needs behind those of his people. When Marcus’ supplies of food, money, and other essential items arrive, Peach always tells his people to pick everything they need and even bring home some extras. He waits for everyone to take their share, then he picks from whatever is left. This often results in him not eating enough, though his weight loss is also partially due to him subconsciously eating less than what he really needs. He does this out of love for his people, and he wants to save every extra bite for someone who might need it… even if there are enough resources to go around a few times thanks to Marcus. Peach just wants everyone to have a good life, and being their leader means putting his people above all else, including himself. The werewolves are aware of their Lord’s tendencies to unintentionally skip meals, and they figured out a way to solve that. They would tell him that they won’t eat unless he does too, and then Peach would eat because he doesn’t want his people to starve themselves. If it works, it works. Peach appreciates his people just as much as they appreciate him. They know it’s no easy job to be Lord, and they’re all there to support him. Peach has their full respect and this unanimous sentiment is more than rock solid. He is their only candidate for Lord and they will never challenge him for as long as he’s willing to sit on the throne. There probably are quite a few werewolf warriors who are stronger than him and could defeat him in a duel, but no one even thinks of challenging him despite the old rules stating how the strongest gets to rule them all. Peach is simply too precious. Quite unusual for a warlike supernatural race, maybe even too peaceful to be true, but it’s real. The werewolves are one big happy pack.

Peach has no biological children, though the number of werewolf women who are eyeing him and more than willing to have his children can probably form a line all the way up to Mother Moon in space. It makes sense, he’s literally the perfect man.

Peach has two adopted daughters, Ruth and Rosemary, whom he found by the werewolves’ equivalent of a dumpster. He felt sorry that their parents didn’t want them, and took them in and raised them as his own.

Ruth: Adopted daughter of Peach, and Rosemary’s twin. Ruth is rather sensitive and has a tendency to make decisions based on feelings and impulse, and needs to learn not to jump to conclusions. She is also prone to overthinking and still doubts Peach’s love for her to this day. Ruth thinks her father only adopted her out of pity and that he is only nice to her because it makes him feel good about himself, which are all false. This puts a strain on their relationship and Peach has a hard time bonding with Ruth, and Rosemary takes up most of the communication between these two. Ruth does genuinely love Peach as her father but she just needs plenty of reassurance. Other than that, she’s a pretty chill person despite being stoic at times. Technically, Ruth has a lot of privileges as the daughter of the Lord, but just like her father, she has an immense love for her people thus never actually uses the perks she’s entitled to. Like Peach, she waits for others to take what they need and scavenges for the leftovers, though Peach always stops her and asks her eat properly because she’s still growing. When Ruth refuses and insists on being like her father, Peach then orders her to eat and she has to listen to him. It’s the only time Peach ever orders Ruth to do anything and it’s a running joke in the family, to the former’s amusement and the latter’s annoyance.

Ruth is also a bit of an odd one out when compared to her fellow werewolves because she somehow finds fighting with a sword to be much more natural and swift as opposed to using her claws like werewolves are supposed to. It just feels way more intuitive, and she knows how to fight in that style. Too bad no one shares this feeling, and to this day Ruth remains the only person who can teach herself. Peach is looking into bringing proficient swordsmen into werewolf island so his daughter can have someone to bond and train with. His success is limited, and Ruth is stuck with self-learning. Maybe another day. People think it’s funny how the Lord’s daughter favors swinging around some sharp stick over Mother Moon’s gift of transformation and hand-to-hand combat. Well, she’s already kind of weird, so. Sticks over fists, y’all.

Ruth has a crush on Kenji.

Rosemary: Adopted daughter of Peach, and Ruth’s twin. While Ruth is skittish and distant, Rosemary is social and upbeat. Rosemary hopes that her sister will eventually see that her assumptions about their father’s feelings for her are only misunderstandings, but for now she’ll keep acting as the bridge between these two because Ruth isn’t exactly enthusiastic about sitting face to face and talking it out with pops Peach just yet. Rosemary just sighs. This is also why Rosemary is closer to their father because she has no problems with expressing herself and the communication between them is much better. Rosemary is the less independent twin and likes to stick around Peach for most of her day because she simply likes being around him, and the latter is quite flattered. She enjoys assisting Peach with his work and she’s one of the most hard-working volunteers who helps to transport and distribute the contents of Marcus’ packages to the citizens of werewolf island.

While Rosemary enjoys hand-to-hand combat, she also likes to study magic and draws magic circles in her free time. Being a werewolf magician is just so cool. Shooting powerful laser beams and setting up movement restriction spells? That’s a YES. Rosemary is a big fan of noble streamer Zivon Tradio, who goes by “GlitterDream KittyPaws” on the internet. Perhaps she can alter and adapt some of his spells for her own use. She also has a bunch of his merch, with a pink nail filer with his face on it as the latest addition to her collection. Peach is aware of Rosemary’s hobby and is supportive of her. It’d be fun if she can learn some tricks and give him a new hairdo in the snap of a finger! So fun.

Rosemary has a crush on Cloudy.

Ronan: Younger brother of Larke. A haughty and prideful werewolf with a certain hatred for nobles. Ronan insists that he despises all of them even though many of the foods he eats and the things he uses were generous gifts to them from Marcus, who is… a noble. His argument is that the noble Lord is incredibly selfish and malicious for monopolizing almost all the available resources in the world for Lukedonia and that Marcus is just doing what he’s supposed to do, to redistribute some of that back to the inhabitants of the world, which includes his pack. It does make some sense, but Ronan completely ignores the huge risks Marcus has taken by going against his Lord and he is somewhat ungrateful. His older brother Larke tries to correct him, to no avail.

Ronan is known for his speed, though Larke is even faster than him. He takes great pride in his brother’s achievements as well as his own. Ronan tries hard to impress Larke and loves him very much, though he doesn’t tell him that his deepest fear is that Larke will abandon him one day; a fear that will never come true but haunts him nonetheless.

Ronan also has a dislike for humans but he secretly loves spicy ramyeon and chocolate coated cookie sticks. It’s almost like a guilty pleasure to him, and he’d get all embarrassed when someone points out his double standards. Marcus occasionally sends human treats to werewolf island as well, and you can bet Ronan’s always rushing to check what’s new. He’s too prideful to admit it. Sigh.

Ronan has a crush on Sapphire and is borderline obsessed with her. He used to invade her personal space all the time but over time he has learned to not be an ass. He genuinely cares about her, and wants to win her heart one day. He’d gladly be Remi’s stepfather if both mother and son let him, but Remi doesn’t really like him. Rip. He tries to get Remi to like him, though.

Larke: Older brother of Ronan. Larke is famous for being the fastest of the werewolves. He and his brother Ronan’s late father was also known for his speed. Larke was able to push his own limits and at some point surpassed their father, which is a huge achievement. Larke might not talk much, but he cares a lot for his loved ones. Their father died when Ronan was a toddler and Larke raised him in his father’s stead. Ronan means everything to Larke and the latter would sacrifice anything for his younger brother. Larke is also completely dedicated to werewolf island and he believes that one day the most fulfilling way to die is to give up his life defending his home. For this reason, Larke trains day and night to become even stronger and always strives to overcome his limits. Larke is also wary of the nobles and more or less anticipates a surprise attack from Lukedonia given the nature of their Lord, though he doesn’t say it out loud like Ronan does. His gut feeling tells him that his father’s death had something to do with the nobles despite the lack of evidence.

Larke has a crush on Kameron.

Kenji: No one knows what his origins are. Kenji is one of the werewolves not native to werewolf island. Instead, he came from the outside and joined the clan here to escape his former clan. The clan he was born into was too aggressive and always at internal conflict, and that is not the lifestyle he wants. They were too bloodthirsty and merciless, and it wasn’t uncommon to wake up to a couple of dead bodies lying around soaked in fresh pools of blood. Those bodies would then be kicked around and ultimately dragged away and tossed into the ocean before the stench hit. The werewolves there treated this as normal occurrence. Just another day, no big deal. It’s too much for someone like Kenji. Kenji just wants peace and quiet, which is exactly what Peach’s clan can offer to him. He had heard rumors about Peach’s clan and ultimately left his old clan in search of a new home despite there being richer material resources in his homeland. It’s just not worth it to stay. And he is right. Peach’s clan is more much peaceful and conflicts only go as far as harmless personal drama. Peach listened to Kenji’s story and welcomed him to join their family, and Kenji’s been doing very well ever since. Sometimes Kenji accidentally hurts members of his new clan out of reflex simply because he had to stay on guard to defend himself at all times in his old clan, and that has taken a toll on his mind. His new family is very understanding of him, and tells him it’s okay, they’ll help him together. Kenji tears up every time they’re nice to him. Aww, he’s just a big ol’ teddy bear despite his scary appearance.

Long ago, in his homeland, Kenji had two daughters and a son but they all died from being caught up in the warriors’ internal conflict. Even his partner fell victim to one of the fights there, and Kenji wasn’t able to save them in time. To this day he refuses to get attached to anyone because he doesn’t want to experience loss anymore.

Linden: Son of an unnamed human father and werewolf mother. Linden is quite an oddity among his kind for being half-human. He’s definitely not the only one, but there’s not many of them. Growing up wasn’t easy because his heritage means that his body is a bit different from everyone else’s, and that his parents couldn’t fully grasp how to best raise their son because he is neither werewolf nor human, instead something in between. Linden’s father was one of the very few humans to reside in werewolf island as a permanent “member” of the pack. His parents had a happy, fulfilling life together and his father eventually died of old age and now it’s just Linden and his mother. Linden tries his hardest to adapt to a werewolf lifestyle but he doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of them. He looks like a pureblooded werewolf and acts and thinks like one, but the human blood in his veins would render him unable to keep up with the rest of his peers. His friends are extra careful with him because they’re afraid he might just fall apart if he accidentally trips himself or something. It’s okay, Linden’s tougher than he looks. He insists that they include him on their activities. He’s a bit slow and less strong, but he’ll catch up in a minute. Linden is a joy to be around so everyone likes him, even if he’s not quite at their level.

Linden has a special thing for tea. He likes to forage for leaves and puts them in boiling water to see how they taste. It’s so much fun! He’d take the leaves and dry them, age them, mix them with other ingredients etc. to create a variety of tastes. Though he has to be careful because some things that pureblooded werewolves have natural full immunity to are still dangerous to him. Once he almost went to the other side from drinking something he crafted without checking the contents carefully and his friends were barely able to pull him back from having one foot in the grave. Well, he had no one to check with, he thought he had full immunity just like everyone else! Now he knows. In the present day, the entire werewolf community is watching out for him. Oh my, thank you!

Linden has a crush on Ronan, and Rosemary, and Ruth, and many others. He ends up liking anyone who is nice to him.

Cloudy: Daughter of unnamed werewolves. She got her name from being born on a cloudy day. Cloudy is rather shy, and the only person whom she’s totally comfortable being around is her elderly father. He had Cloudy quite late, so he put all of his attention into her and she grew up rather sheltered. He did most of the talking for her, almost acting as her spokesperson. Cloudy would clutch onto her father’s robes and hide behind him when others approached and only grew out of it in adulthood. Sometimes, out of reflex, she still reaches her hand out expecting to grab onto a piece of cloth for comfort. Oops. She’s doing a great job though. Cloudy has her own group of good friends and they’re very caring with her. Rosemary, Kameron, and Linden are part of this group. Sapphire too if she decides to tag along. They like going to the beaches together and they’d sit on the sand and stargaze while listening to the waves and the gulls. Sometimes they’d also bury Linden until only his head is above the sand. And they’d all laugh together. Cloudy’s father was worried about her and what will happen after he dies because she’s so attached to him, but seeing his girl with her awesome friends has reassured him that she will be just fine after his soul returns to Mother Moon’s embrace.

Cloudy is one of the few if not only werewolf to not eat any meat. Like just no meat at all. This is a very strange thing for a werewolf to do, as the werewolves’ diet had been pretty much meat-only since the beginning of time, only to have evolved into more mixed one as of recently. Still, they’re mostly carnivores. Cloudy’s love of animals is very strong so she doesn’t eat any, as she can’t see them as food no matter how hard she tries. She’s fine with milk and eggs and such, just nothing harvested from an animal’s body. This diet would cause her to not be able to fully channel the strengths of a werewolf, but that’s fine to her since she was never really a fighter on the inside to begin with. Plus, she can just chill with Linden in the back. She can show him her colorful crystal collection and they’ll excitedly chat about where to find more.

Cloudy has a crush on Ruth.

Kameron: Son of unnamed werewolves. Kameron was the product of a short fling between his parents. His mother was a wandering traveler who stumbled upon werewolf island and that’s how she met his father. She left werewolf island and said her permanent goodbyes to her partner and then-toddler son to continue on with her travels, leaving her partner to raise Kameron on his own. Kameron and his father have a great relationship despite their differences in personality. Like his mother, Kameron is easygoing and cheerful. He has a talent for putting up smiles on people’s faces by being funny or making a fool of himself, or both. He always jokes about how Ruth and Rosemary are his long-lost sisters even though that’s clearly not the case. Peach thinks it’s hilarious.

Kameron has a fascination with noble culture. Sure, Lukedonia’s not the greatest place and its inhabitants are a mixed bag, but it’s still so interesting. He wants to know everything about them. What they do for fun, what their jobs are like, how the weather is over there, do they get to control their own weather, how does it feel to read minds, how does it feel to get your minds read, do you even have eating utensils and beds if you don’t need food or sleep, do you pee and poo, why is everyone’s eyes red, blah blah blah… the questions are endless and he is overflowing with excitement and curiosity. Kameron daydreams about picking up a random noble from the streets and just interviewing them all day long, asking questions to his satisfaction. It’s just so cool to be a noble. Kameron likes being a werewolf, of course, he’s just drawn by the unknown. Perhaps he’ll even marry a noble one day, haha. Just kidding, that’s impossible. It’s better to stay at home, he thinks. No way that’s happening.

Kameron has a crush on Larke, though the two of them don’t know that the feeling mutual. Kameron likes to tease Larke and Larke pretends to hate it even though he likes it and wants Kameron to talk to him more. There’s quite some unresolved tension between them and who knows where it’ll go.

Gregory: Father of Sapphire, and grandfather of Remi. Gregory was Peach’s father figure during the latter’s youth. He still is, and Peach relies on him for advice. Gregory is one of the few people whom Peach can truly relax around because he knows that he’ll be treated as a normal werewolf and not Lord of the werewolves, which is what everyone sees him as. Gregory knows that Peach gets tired from being put on a pedestal all the time, and as much as Peach enjoys being in a leadership position, too much is too much. When these two are alone, Peach would jokingly complain to Gregory about how sitting on the cold, hard throne all day just hurts his buttcheeks and even his superior werewolf healing can’t save him. They’d have a laugh about it and talk about family drama and stuff. Though not related by blood, these two are very much family by bond. Gregory’s nickname for blonde werewolf is Peachfuzz. In return, he gets called Grandpa Grumpy. Aww.

At some point the nickname Grandpa Grumpy spread across werewolf island and now most of the pack calls him that instead of his actual name, as an affectionate way of addressing him. He’s fine with it. They all love and respect him for his wisdom, and for that he is grateful.

Gregory does have a real family. He has a daughter named Sapphire who looks just like him. As a father, Gregory feels troubled because Sapphire is too polite and formal with him. He wishes that she can be more casual around him. While Gregory is aware that being reserved is part of Sapphire’s personality, he can’t help but wonder if she will ever let him into her life, even just a bit. What she’s doing, how she’s feeling, what she ate for lunch, what she wants for dinner, did she make new friends… she doesn’t seem to share much. He knows it is possible that she just doesn’t want him to worry, but she’s still his kid and he’s supposed to worry about her. Gregory always lets her know that he is there for her. In a way, Sapphire reminds him of his late partner, who was also distant and private. Other than that, Gregory and Sapphire are a loving family and they have their moments here and there.

Sapphire: Daughter of Gregory, and mother of Remi. Sapphire is quiet and mysterious. While she doesn’t reject being in a social setting, she prefers to sit on the sidelines and doesn’t initiate any sort of interaction unless she’s being interacted with. Rosemary, a good friend of hers, makes sure she’s included in activities. Sapphire would just blush and follow her friend group around. They know she’s not cold, she’s just a little quieter and that’s fine. Everything is normal and time passes by peacefully until one day, Sapphire’s belly starts to grow and she could no longer hide the baby she’s carrying. Gregory and all her friends are shocked. They thought they had her trust, but she never told anyone. They’re surprised because they’ve never seen Sapphire with another werewolf, and that she’s going to be a mother at such a young age. By human standards, she’d be a teen mom. Gregory tries to be gentle and very carefully asks his daughter who the father is, if she doesn’t mind sharing. Sapphire just closes her eyes and silently shakes her head, refusing to answer. It’s alright then, if she doesn’t want to say anything. They’ll help her the best they can.

Everything continues smoothly and the due date neared. This is when tragedy happens. For the first time ever, Sapphire is crying. There had been evidence of an abduction and several werewolves had disappeared. Sapphire’s partner was one of them. Traces pointed to Lukedonia, hinting that this was the deed of nobles, but there was nothing solid enough for them to hold against the nobles. In the end, they couldn’t save him. Or any of them. Sapphire was grief-stricken and refused to eat, almost killing herself and her unborn baby, until Gregory begged and begged for her to please take care of herself and that he cannot lose her. Unwilling to sadden her father, she starts to eat again and her body returns to normal.

Soon, Sapphire gives birth to a son and she names him Remi. Remi will never have a father, but she will try her best to raise him. Sapphire doesn’t really have any hobbies that stand out because she spends most of her time on Remi so she never really gets the chance to explore with her life.

Sapphire is too busy to like anyone. She does have a lot of admirers, many of whom are more than willing to take care of her and Remi as her partner and Remi’s stepfather. Ronan is one of them. Sapphire rejects all of them, but they just keep coming back. Remi shoos them away for her. Maybe one day Sapphire will find love again, but right now she is still mourning her partner who is currently permanently missing with no news of his fate whatsoever.

(Eventually she does find love and has her happily ever after. In the far future she has another child aka Remi’s half-sibling with a nice werewolf guy, when Remi is an adult)

Remi: Son of Sapphire, and grandson of Gregory. Remi is stubborn and tends to react emotionally to things. He thinks this is his fault and blames himself for being temperamental, but in reality he’s just his father’s son. Other than his looks, he doesn’t resemble his mother much. Remi is in a bit of a special situation. Sapphire is his mother, but they’re more like siblings. This is partially due to Sapphire having him at a young age, but mostly due to his grandfather Gregory suggesting that he grows up as his mother’s brother instead of her son. This is to take some stress off Sapphire’s shoulders so she won’t need to be anxious all the time. Originally, Sapphire could’ve raised Remi together with her partner, but that became impossible due to the abduction incident. Raising Remi alone is too much for a young Sapphire, so Gregory stepped up. He doesn’t mind raising his grandson as his son, and tells Sapphire that she can choose to go on and enjoy life as she wishes and leave Remi to him. Whatever she decides, he will be supportive. Sapphire is grateful for her father’s offer, but ultimately decides to be a very involved sister-ish mother in Remi’s life. And that’s that. Their family is a bit special with unconventional dynamics, but still loving nonetheless. Remi calls his mother by her name and his grandfather “Father”. Neither of them minds and they’re quite content with it. Sapphire’s friends also treat Remi as one of them and often ask her if her “brother” wants to tag along for hunting or fishing or something.

Remi’s primary goal in life is to gain power. He wants to grow up to become a strong and wise warrior like his grandfather, and he’s a bit impatient with it, despite being so young and still having lots of time in front of him. Gregory tells him not to worry. Other than that, Remi is rather dense and doesn’t know how to have fun. His friends have to drag him outside or else he’s just training all day.

Remi doesn’t like Ronan and finds him to be creepy. Remi once slapped Ronan across the face when the latter called him “my son”. He knows Ronan has a huge crush on his sister-mom but that’s just going too far. Just… ew. No thanks, bye bye. And stay away from her because she’s not interested!

Remi is too dense to like anyone. (For now)

Zen: Son of unnamed werewolves. Zen is respectful and composed, which are traits that become even more obvious when compared to his best friend Ulrich. Zen is an independent thinker. While he does appreciate Lord Peach and noble Marcus’ efforts to keep the werewolves afloat with extra resources, he believes that the werewolves should gradually wean themselves off the nobles’ help and become truly self-sufficient. It’s not beneficial to rely on outside help and who knows if one day the nobles will come and ask for the werewolves to return the favor since they’ve been “indebted” to them for so long. Zen doesn’t like the idea of his pack having something that can potentially be used against them. In reality, Marcus and his organization would never do such a thing, as they really are altruistic with their good deeds. Still, Zen has a hard time trusting them and he can’t bring himself to let his guard down. Zen has told Peach about his concerns, and the latter has reassured him that his worries will never come to be. Zen thinks otherwise. Peach appreciates Zen’s efforts to watch out for him and their big family, and jokes that he should take a “chill pill”. Zen is not amused.

In his free time, Zen just hangs out with Ulrich. He’s down to do whatever Ulrich is up for. He’s even willing to leave werewolf island and follow his best friend to the ends of the earth if that’s what he wants. That’s how much Ulrich means to him. Sometimes, Zen has dreams where he and Ulrich are in another strange universe where they are not werewolves; instead they are a supernatural race and the dream ends with both of them getting executed by a mysterious winged being. Maybe he’s just too tired, that’s why he’s making up all this crazy shit. But it’s too realistic to be a simple illusion. This gives Zen the chills.

When Ulrich is busy, Zen makes art with chains. He links them one by one. Your average werewolf would find that to be rather boring. Zen thinks it’s therapeutic.

Zen doesn’t have a crush on anyone, though he has a platonic love for Ulrich.

Ulrich: Son of an unnamed half-werewolf mother and werewolf father. Ulrich is mostly pretty tame though he can get fairly angry and jealous when he is upset, where he then tends to lash out at things and people nearby. Probably not the best judgement, because being three-quarters werewolf means that he’s weaker than most of whom he provokes and often ends up getting his regretful ass beaten. Probably deserved it. They didn’t start it, he did, so it’s always his fault. Ulrich would then sulk in the corner with a bloody nose and some bruises and complain to Zen about how the latter is late at comforting him. Zen would just sigh, shake his head, and come over and crouch down with Ulrich and tell him “better not do it next time” as he pats him on the shoulder. Ulrich never listens and he’s definitely doing it again. His one braincell simply never learns. And this cycle continues in an almost comedic manner. Zen is more than capable of defeating Ulrich in a spar at any given moment, but he lets his best friend boss him around without any objections. Ulrich doesn’t even know Zen is just super chill and nice. There’s not another soul in this world who will tolerate his less than favorable attitude and temper without some form of retaliation.

Ulrich is also a bit of a hypocrite. He can hang out others all he wants, but he gets upset when he sees Zen with someone else. He can have many friends, but Zen can only be his friend. His jealousy would cause him to lash out at his best friend at times, but he isn’t actually angry at him. Ulrich just never learned how to properly and calmly express his feelings. Fortunately, Zen accepts all of Ulrich’s flaws and they’re still best friends.

Ulrich has a weird hobby of pulling out his own fangs and fashioning them into necklaces and bracelets. It’s pretty hip, and hey it looks nice. Besides, he’s mostly a werewolf so they’ll grow back in. Ulrich makes Zen wear one of his “diy” necklaces and gets upset when the latter takes it off, so now he has to keep it on the whole time. Zen wouldn’t be surprised is Ulrich is making some pocket money with his unusual jewelry.

Ulrich doesn’t realize, but he too feels platonic love for his best friend. He probably can’t live without Zen.

Thank you for reading and stay tuned for future posts!

[sky-neverending]

Eddie rockstar au featuring past fwb Steddie who are reuniting to be more?? and an original song I wrote?? Slay! (lemme know if you want me to do a part 2 or post this to ao3?) under the cut cause its a LONG BOI

Eddie grew up drowning out the noise. He was used to covering his ears, to turning up the music. So the screams and shouts of others had grown cold on him, never really affecting the way he lived.

But this? This was a whole different story.

He peeked his head out from behind the curtain, glancing at the crowd that had gathered in front of the stage. The crowd that was there to see him. It was odd, the fact that so many people wanted to be there for him, wanted to hear him make music he used to use as a distraction in his home, and after the fight, in the dingy bedroom of Wayne’s trailer. 

Someone grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from the crowd before they could spot him. “What do you think you're doing?” a girl hissed, and he turned around to grin at her. 

“Checking out my adoring fans, Chris,” he joked, running a hand through his curls. “Gotta see if anyone stands out to me, ya know?”

She rolled her eyes at him, but a fond smile crossed her lips. “You go on in 2,” she warned, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Good luck out there.”

“I won’t need it,” he responded with a wink. 

As Chrissy walked away, Eddie’s heart started beating louder. Adrenaline and pure anxiety mixed in his veins, a feeling stronger than one he had ever been given by any substance. 

It was show time. The crowd wanted a rockstar? He was going to give them one. 

Stepping onto the stage, Eddie let the roars of the people before him soak in. He threw his head back, taking a long, deep breath before addressing the crowd.

“Are you ready to rock, freaks?” 

The show went on as normal, Eddie playing and singing and basking in the reactions of the crowd. It wasn’t until he got to his final song that he spotted a familiar face in the front row.

“Alright, alright,” he began, putting a finger to his lips. “Everyone hush now.” Taking a deep breath, he looked straight at the first man he was ever in love with. Straight at his high school hookup that could have been something more. Straight at Steve Harrington himself. “This last song is dedicated to someone I knew once. I hope he knows it’s about him.” 

And then he started to sing.

Denim, denim jeans

Polo with a band T hidden underneath 

All the girls wrapped around his finger

But i’m standing just where he can’t see

Midnight kisses and early morning drives 

To the lake down the street where he can hide

Cause you know he’ll never be 

Brave enough to see

That he’s dying simply because he’s living

A lie

He took a breath before launching into the chorus, fingers shaky on his guitar.

Do you care

That I’m not there 

Or was I never on your mind in the first place 

Do you see me?

I’m screaming, screaming 

I’m reaching, reaching out

But you turn away

So what else can I say?

Farah Faucett hair spray 

And a smile that could kill

I think it already did 

But at least I’ll die on this hill

Sayin’ there’s no point in loving if

You can’t love yourself

So walk away, trophy boy

Let them put you on your shelf

Do you care

That I’m not there 

Or was I never on your mind in the first place 

Do you see me?

I’m screaming, screaming 

I’m reaching, reaching out

But you turn away

So what else can I say?

Yeah what else can I say?

The song ended on a solo guitar riff, Eddie pouring his heart and soul into every note. He opened his eyes on the last strum, looking right at Steve and winking. 

“Thank you guys for coming out tonight,” he said, addressing the crowd as a whole. “I can’t put it into words how happy I am to be here. Goodnight, Indy!” And with that he threw up his horns, swung his guitar once around his body, and strutted off the stage like he hadn’t just indirectly confessed his feelings to someone he never thought he’d see again. 

His heart thumping in his chest, Eddie turned to Chrissy with the little hope and prayer he had left in him. “Front row,” he said, “Harrington. Looks the same as he did in school, sticks out like a sore thumb. Bring him back here.” Chrissy raised an eyebrow, but upon seeing his desperation, turned and walked toward the side exit of the stage. It led out to the gates that separated Eddie from the crowd, and he could hear the clatter of them opening as she hurried Steve through before letting the security guards handle whoever else clamored after them.

Curtains fluttering with movement, Eddie held his breath. He watched as Steve stepped through, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. 

“Harrington,” said Eddie, almost a whisper. “I’ll be damned.”

Steve smiled, and fuck if that smile didn’t buckle Eddie’s knees. “Hey, Munson,” he greeted, hands at his sides. “Nice show.”

Laughing, Eddie stepped closer. “Didn’t take you as part of this crowd,” he stated, looking Steve up and down. The faded yellow of his jumper was probably the preppiest thing in the audience, amongst the blacks and rips and chains that his usual fans sported. “You get a girlfriend who’s into our kind of music? Or did you just decide to show up and look like an outcast?” His words were teasing, and he hoped Steve could see that.

“Uh,” Steve pressed his lips together, looking at the ground. “No, Robin dragged me down here. Said it would be good for me to get out of my comfort zone… and stuff.”

“And stuff,” Eddie repeated with a grin. “Not going to lie to you, Stevie, I didn’t think you and the band geek would last.” He tried not to let jealousy seep through his tone. 

With the kick of his foot, Steve’s shoulders loosened. “She’s not the band geek I’m after, trust me.” He looked Eddie directly in the eye. “I messed up, Eds.”

Eddie stared at him. “What?”

“I messed up, Eddie Munson,” Steve repeated with intent, “and I want to make things right.” He advanced, tilting his chin up just the slightest bit. “I shouldn’t have hidden from you. I shouldn’t have turned you away, and I’m sorry. And that song-” he paused, biting his bottom lip, “God, Eddie, you have some real talent.”

“It took a song about you for you to realize that?” Eddie joked, and Steve rolled his eyes in response. He sighed, reaching a hand up to Eddie’s cheek. The touch was tender, sweet, all the things Eddie had dreamed of when they’d been apart.

“Shut up,” he said. “Shut up and let me take you out on a date.”

Heart lurching, Eddie’s face broke into a grin so wide it was painful. “What’s in it for me, Harrington?” he asked slowly, leaning into the touch. “I’m a rockstar now, why should I go out with you?”

“Because I asked nicely?” Steve whispered, curling his hand and letting the tip of his nails trail down Eddie’s cheek. “And because I want to make things right?”

It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes. “Ever the romantic, sweetheart.” His tongue pressed up against his cheek, like he was contemplating the question. He wasn’t. “Sure, I’ll go out with you. Meet me behind the venue in half an hour?”

Steve nodded. “I can do that,” he said. “I need to go talk to Robin, I owe her money.” With that, he pulled away, leaving Eddie longing for his touch again. “I’ll see you later,” he called out, walking with Chrissy toward an exit that would lead him past the crowd. 

Eddie watched him leave, a smile on his face.

He had himself a date, and all it took was one little song.