#this was supposed to be for the first hiatus prompt

[smileysuh]

GyuGyu97 & Hannie : Svt

🌙 starring. Mingyu & Jeonghan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I hate to say this-” Jeonghan sighs, and you can feel him practically zooming in on your fingers as you tear open Mingyu’s jeans, “but you two are actually really hot together.” The confident man towering over you falters, and you watch the hint of a blush creep up his neck and bloom across his ears. He better not actually be in love with you.

cw/ tw. cam sex, pussy eating, blowjobs, unprotected sex, voyeur!Jeonghan, 3some, spit roasting, cum play, praise, multiple orgasms, cum shot, size kink, etc... I petnames. (hers) baby. (mingyu's) puppy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 5.9k

🍭 aus. cam girl reader, poly idols, idols sharing a fuck buddy, dirty boy idols, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. cam room directory here - i'm so in love with this pairing it hurts - this series is covered in audio by the Kpop Pillow Talk podcast, listen here

When - over a glass of soju - you’d accidentally let it slip to your friends in Seventeen that you were considering picking up camgirling again- it had only been natural that a handful of them had become interested.

They’d heard about your cam shows, which had become a well known secret amongst the boy groups of kpop. So the thought that you’d be taking another run at it - knowing that some of your big spenders would likely be too busy to join - had prompted a few of the group members to offer their own support. 

Even though you’d given them all codes to the room, and described that they’d get notifications if you ever did a show- you hadn’t been sure if any of them would approach you one on one to be on cam with you. And on top of that, you’d assumed that for a few of them, their friendships with other regulars in your chat might dissuade them from taking a go at you themselves.

So when you get a text from Mingyu asking if you want to come over because the dorm is empty and he’s lonely… you’re a little surprised that it’s him making a move. 

Some part of you had thought Seungcheol might be the first to message you- as he’s more similar to the general type of guy you go for; confident, dom types. But you suppose you’ve enjoyed a few switchy-type men too- only to find out that being on cam brought out a primal side to them that had surprised even you on a few occasions. 

You wonder what Mingyu will be like… you’ve been wondering for quite some time, and you make your way to the Seventeen dorm adorned in a fresh set of lingerie; expectations high.

Mingyu greets you the way many idols do when you show up to a deserted dorm: he pulls you past the threshold and closes the door before dragging you to his lips.

“Can’t believe you came,” Mingyu says, breaking the kiss much too quickly for your liking. 

“Of course,” you smile, enjoying the way he’s humble, even though he’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever met. “I was a little shocked to get your message but I’m happy I did.”

“Really?” The beautiful idol lights up from the slight praise, and his smile turns him practically ethereal. “I wasn’t sure if I was being too forward-”

“Gyu-” you press a hand to his chest and his heart races under your fingers, “I do cam shows- there’s no such thing as being too forward.” 

“Right-” He swallows thickly, and you watch the way his adam’s apple bobs in that pretty throat of his. “You mentioned starting them up again, and I’ve heard good things about it-”

“You and your 97 line group chat,” you shake your head, embarrassment tickling over your skin- sometimes you hate to be reminded that your supporters talk to their friends. 

In your brief hiatus from cam girling for your idols, you’ve lost some of your easy confidence- you hope Mingyu can help you gain it back.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Mingy asks, tugging on your hips to pull you closer to his chest.

“Of course.”

“There are a few guys in the 97 line group chat who are a little in love with you.”

“Just a little?” you tease- knowing immediately that Mingyu’s probably talking about Jaehyun- although, back when you taked to him more, you’d had a pretty good connection with Jungkook too. “Don’t you feel the least bit bad being here with me if your friends are ‘in love’ with me?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Aparently it’s a common thing- you know, Cheol Hyung also talks about you a lot-”

“Not you spilling all the secrets-” you laugh. “You must think you’re going to be impervious to my charms then Gyu- you’re not scared of falling for me too?”

“I mean…” his eyes drift down to your lips, “maybe I will- but isn’t it a cam room rule that if any of us catch feels for you, we should keep it to ourselves?”

“You know- that sounds like a pretty good rule,” you find yourself giggling again, leaning closer to the tallest member of Seventeen, the first who’d had the balls to seak you out for some on-camera fun. “So tell me… how did you end up in the dorms alone tonight?”

“Rolled my ankle in dance practice two hours ago- was sent home to ice it, but look,” he lifts his foot and shakes it slightly, “all better now.”

“So does that mean most of your friends are still at practice?” you cock your head to the side, tracing his pretty features with your eyes, watching the way he nods. “Which means… when we turn on the cam room, they’ll all get a notification in the middle of practice.”

“Not sure if they’re all at practice still-” Mingyu admits. “It goes late sometimes- I know Cheol and Woozi were planning to stay at the studio after practice- then Minghao and Jun are in China till next week- I think most of the others said something about going out for dinner and drinks-”

His words are rushed, and they betray a fact that you’ve not had to frequently contend with during your shows- 

“What you’re saying is-” you clarify, “there’s a possibility someone might come home while we’re on cam.”

“A small possibility.”

“Except- with thirteen members- maybe more so of a probability,” you point out. “Especially if we go on cam together.”

“Are you thinking someone might come home just to catch us?” he asks. 

You offer a shrug. “You know your friends better than I do.” 

“I’ll check the group chat again, let me look,” Mingyu pulls his phone out of his pocket, eyes fixed on the screen as he begins scrolling around. “Okay- I’m pretty sure a bunch of them went for food, Hoshi’s posting stuff about it on weverse.” 

“Honestly-” you reach for the belt of Mingyu’s jeans, tugging him closer, “I think I can make you cum before anyone gets home.”

“You think you can make me cum before anyone gets home?” The tall idol’s brows raise in shock, and he lets out a laugh. “Isn’t the whole show about making you cum?” 

“I mean… yeah but… I don’t know, something about you makes me wanna ride it.” 

Mingyu searches your face for any sign that you’re joking, but when you meet his eyes with a steady gaze he licks his lips, nodding. “Okay- we can do that.”

“We can do a lot of things, most guys like starting a show with eating me out but-”

“We can do that,” Mingyu interrupts you, repeating his earlier sentiment with even more fervor now. 

“So… your room?” 

“This way,” he tells you, grabbing your hand and turning to drag you down the hall. 

His legs are long, and you stumble to keep up with him. You find yourself giggling at the way Mingyu reminds you of an eager puppy, and you’re even more excited to see how things are going to go-

You’ve been with a lot of doms who like to call most of the shots, it will be nice to experience someone who lets you decide on a course of action. He’d jumped at the idea of you riding him, whereas a number of your idol lovers have preferred a position with you on your knees while they fuck you from behind, using your body to cover their own and maintain some of their modesty.

You don’t think Mingyu’s going to have any problems with modesty. 

The tallest member of Seventeen pulls your mouth to his as he closes the door to his bedroom behind you. You enjoy the way you’re having a bit of light foreplay before the camera is on. It’s nice to get to explore him a little- without your thoughts being distracted by a chat and the sound of coins that signify donations.

Mingyu pushes your coat from your shoulders, hands grabbing at your waist to pull you closer. His tongue glides across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, loving the way he deepens the kiss.

He smells good- it’s a different cologne than you’re used to, but there’s a spice to it that’s drawing you in. 

Mingyu’s fingers slip under your shirt, teasing past your stomach, and you find yourself pulling away, opening your eyes to look up at the pretty man. “We should turn on the camera before you begin to undress me.”

“Right- yeah,” Mingyu nods, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth while blinking down at you. He already looks a little lost, as if kissing you alone has brought him into a daze. 

“You mentioned you have a tripod or a light ring or something-” 

“Uh huh,” the idol lets you go, moving to the desk at the foot of his bed. He opens a drawer and takes out the item you need, setting it up with quick motions while you pull out your phone. “So you just open a cam room-”

“Yup, then people join and watch- there’s a chat function so people can talk while we fuck-”

“Do you read comments?” Mingyu’s watching you carefully now, interest written on his face.

“Sometimes. It depends on who I’m with- like, some people like to read comments while I blow them-”

“What if you hold the phone and read comments while I eat you out?” 

“That’s actually a really good idea-” you cock your head to the side, “and it sounds like you’re okay with having a camera in your face.”

“Well if you’re okay with it, why wouldn’t I be? Isn’t the cam room all about you know… being on cam?”

“You’d be surprised how many guys fuck me from behind and hide their bodies.”

“Not me.”

“I got the feeling you’d be the kind of guy that’s proud of his dick-” you laugh. “It’s big right? Like the rest of you?”

Mingyu grins, tugging you closer again. “Why don’t you touch it and find out?”

“Okay, but I’m turning on the cam room.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you laugh, shaking your head a little at Mingyu’s behaviour. 

You open your cam room, directing your phone at the idol’s lower abdomen. “I’m going to give it a sec for some people to join,” you tell him. 

“Can I kiss you for a bit then?” 

You look up from your phone screen, and you find yourself smiling at Mingyu, giving him a curt nod. 

One of his hands reaches out to cup your face, thumb brushing by your cheek bone while his fingers secure your head for him. He leans down to press his lips to your own. 

It’s a soft kiss, and it makes you shiver, reaching with your free hand to grab at the front of his shirt.

Your phone starts to buzz, and you break the kiss to look down, eyes scanning the chat room.

HeyChannie: this better not be happening right now

HeyChannie: we’re literally just about to go on stage

You smile at NCT’s Haechan, he’s always been a bit of a menace. “Maybe this room isn’t for you Hyuck, go on stage and let other new people enjoy the cam show.” 

“Who’s in the room?” Mingyu whispers, lips brushing by your neck while you keep your gaze fixed on your phone, camera still angled at his shirt.

“I gave the cam room link to a bunch of Seventeen members, but it looks like a few ateez guys have entered the chat too-” It’s a little overwhelming to be reading all the new names appearing. 

A couple Ateez members have been present at other cam shows, but since your hiatus, you’ve gained something like 10 new users.

Luckily, most of your idol fans choose names that are fairly straight forward. Cherrycheolie can only be one man, and you suppose Vernon using his birth name Hansoooool isn’t too much of a stretch. Tigerprince feels like Hoshi, and Thegentleman is likely Joshua- KingArthurMin takes a moment for you to figure out as DK, and you find yourself thankful that new Ateez members are going by easy names like Wooyungthug, Yunhoe and Gi. 

Wooyungthug: if all your nct biases are on tour… then whos dick is that

Maybe you shouldn’t have given Wooyoung a cam show link- but to be fair, you enjoy having little shit starters in chat.

“You guys wanna know who I’m with right now?” you ask out loud, bunching your fist tighter into Mingyu’s shirt. “Maybe you should guess.”

Mingyu pulls away from your neck, looking down at you with a curious expression. 

Tigerprince: could be Seungcheol

Tigerprince: he’s in love with you

Cherrycheolie: I’m IN the chat dumbass

KingArthurMin: Wonwoo? 

Wooyungthug: nah guys that dick looks big- has to be Yunho

Yunhoe: I’m also in chat

Yunhoe: dumbass 

“Can I touch you, puppy?” you question, looking up at the man whose ears turn red at the petname.

Wooyungthug: okay, who do we know who gives puppy vibes

Tigerprince: I can be puppy

KingArthurMin: jeno from nct????

Cherrycheolie: thought she said she was done with nct for a while

Thegentleman: done with 127. Could be a dreamie.

Thegentleman: Jeonghan’s not in chat yet

Hansoooool: looks bigger than Jeonghan

Tigerprince: not you being a dick size expert

Hansoooool: I’m just saying the obvious

Cherrycheolie: I thought Jeonghan was getting food with you

Tigerprince: he left a few minutes ago

“Chat thinks you’re Jeonghan, puppy,” you grin, moving your hand down to cup Mingyu’s cock through his jeans. 

“I’m bigger than Jeonghan,” Mingyu states, his voice low. He releases a groan when you squeeze his length, and he reaches for your hips. “I don’t want to wait anymore, wanna eat you out.”

“How could I say no to that?” 

Your response has Mingyu throwing you onto his bed, and you laugh at the way Mingyu occilates between being submissive and dominant. You enjoy the way the camera angle gets messy, a flurry of movements half captured as Mingyu tears your pants off and drags you to the edge of his mattress.

“You should take my panties and keep them for yourself,” you tell him, lifting your hips to help him get your lower half completely naked.

Mingyu groans at your words, and you lift the camera to focus on the idol who shoves your panties in his back pocket before growling “come here” and dragging your pussy to his mouth.

Tigerprince: mINGYU????

Thegentleman: no way

KingArthurMin: SO THIS IS WHAT SPRAINING AN ANKLE GETS YOU?

Tigerprince: uh- NURSE, NURSE I ALSO HAVE AN ISSUE I NEED HELP WITH

Cherrycheolie: is it on your dick

Tigerprince: yeah, I got snake bite and I need the venom sucked out

Hansoooool: lol

Thegentleman: I’m actually shocked that it’s Mingyu

Thegentleman: out of all the people she could choose-

Cherrycheolie: hoshi aren’t u at a restaurant

Tigerprince: this is what bathrooms are for

Wonwho has donated $100

KingArthurMin: right! Donations!

KingArthurMin has donated $100

As the sound of coin donations begins to ding through your phone, you draw your eyes from the screen, looking down at Mingyu as he licks and laps at your pussy.

It feels good- you haven’t been eaten out in a while, and moans of pleasure begin to slip past your lips. 

The idol with his tongue flicking at your clit opens his eyes to look up at you, and you instinctively reach down to run your fingers through his hair, grinding yourself down on him. “Just like that Gyu- you have such a nice mouth- feels amazing.”

You knew Mingyu would be a glutton for praise, and you’re rewarded when he presses his tongue deep into your hole, tasting your inner walls-

When Mingyu groans, you feel it everywhere. The vibration tickles through your pussy, and his nose brushes by your clit, making your legs twitch on either side of his head.

“Fuck- so good, Gyu, so good-” You close your eyes and tilt your head back, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of Mingyu’s tongue as your phone buzzes and dings- 

You’ve never been in a situation where you’re holding the camera. It’s always one of your idol lovers calling the shots - literally - and you find your hand shaking with effort as you hold up your phone, trying to keep it focused on the man eating you out, getting you closer and closer to your high-

“Shit- puppy-” you’re nearly whimpering when his lips suction around your clit, and two digits slip into your wet core, crooking up to massage your gspot- “Yes! Just like that! Just like that! Fuck, I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum on your fingers, please don’t stop-” 

You don’t open your eyes, you’re too close to pay any attention to the cam room. All you can do is give in to the pleasure Mingyu is providing, and not two seconds later, your core is clenching around his fingers as your ograsm takes over.

Loud gasps escape you as Mingyu works you through your release, paying special attention to your clit. He applies even more pressure to your gspot with those expert fingers of his, and you lift your hips in a bid to escape some of the stimulation-

Only for Mingyu to place two large hands on your waist and force you back down. His tongue replaces the space his fingers had just been, pressing into you even as your walls clench around him. When his nose brushes by your clit again, you spasm in his grasp from the sensitivity, releasing a loud gasp as you tug on his hair-

Mingyu finally lets up on you, pulling away from your core to look up at you. 

You watch through your phone as the beautiful man with bedroom eyes licks his lips, groaning at your taste. 

He’s a camera whore- and you wouldn’t have it any other way.  

“Did you like that?” Mingyu asks, and the grin on his face tells you he already knows the obvious answer.

“Of course I liked it, Gyu,” you let out a small laugh, still recuperating. “Now come kiss me, please.”

You toss your phone to the side in favour of allowing Mingyu to crawl up your body to meet you, your legs wrapping around his hips while his chest presses down against your own. 

He tastes like your pussy, and the dirtyness of it all has you groaning into his mouth, licking and biting at his plump lips-

A knocking sound has you practically jumping out of your skin, heart lurching in your ribcage as you grab onto Mingyu, head whipping towards the closed door. 

“Someone ordered a camera man?!” 

The voice isn’t one you could easily mix up, and it’s Mingyu who lets out a groan. “Jeonghan-” 

“I’m serious, the cam room is just looking at your ceiling- let me in.” The doorknob jiggles, but holds steady, lock remaining in place.

Mingyu looks down at you. “Should we let him in?”

You’ve had two idol threesomes in your life, and the last one hadn’t ended in the best of ways- sure, you’d came like five times, but after it was all said and done, Jinyoung had gone off to film a show and you’d been left wondering if he’d noticed your slight preference for Johnny and ditched you because of it.  

However- looking at this circumstance, with two guys who are your friends but whom you’ve never slept with- can there really be that much jealousy and tension? 

It’s not emotionally charged- in fact, Jeonghan’s down playing it as if you simply need a camera man. 

“I’m okay if he joins-” you reach for your phone, angling it towards the door, “you guys are chill if Hannie joins too, right?”

KingArthurMin: NO WAY

KingArthurMin: YOU’RE LETTING JEONGHAN JOIN?????

TigerPrince: give us all like- 20 minutes and we can be back from the restaurant

Thegentleman: of course it’s going to be jeonghan and mingyu

Tigerprince: this isn’t fair

Mingyu gets off of you, heading to open the door for his friend. 

Jeonghan is grinning at you and the camera a moment later, slipping into the room and locking you all in together. “Hey you two, been having fun?”

“How did you know to leave the restaurant early?” you ask, closing your legs and eying Seventeen’s most mischievous member.

Jeonghan shrugs. “Guess it just seemed obvious to me that if Mingyu was left alone at the dorms, he’d call you over.” 

You find yourself laughing at their relationship. “He’s that predictable to you?”

“Uh huh.” Jeonghan’s grin widens. “So, camera man is here now, I’m ready to get started.” 

Both of them turn to look at you, and with another small chuckle and the shake of your head, you hold out your phone to Jeonghan. “I’m trusting you to get good shots.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan assures you, “I’ve watched lots of porn, baby, I know exactly how to work this. It’s going to be your best cam show yet- or, the best filmed at least.”

“If you do well I might even compensate you,” you tease him, reaching for Mingyu.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan is already stepping closer to the bed, angling your phone to get the best shot possible of Mingyu returning to his position between your thighs, his lips pressing against your neck. “How would you do that?” 

You release a shaky sigh as Mingyu sucks on your sweet spot, grinding himself down against your core. “I’ve been told my mouth feels like heaven.” 

“Fuck, I bet it does,” Jeonghan stifles a small groan. 

“Gyu,” you return your attention to the man on top of you, “I need you naked- we only have so long before more of your massive group of members shows up-”

“Cheol’s threatening to get in a cab right now,” Jeonghan muses, eyes quickly scanning the group chat.

“So I’m going to need you to fuck me sooner rather than later-” you continue, “I don’t know if any of us could survive Cheol or Joshua joining next-”

“No, just us,” Mingyu confirms, sitting up so he can tear his shirt off while your hands go to work on his belt. 

“I hate to say this-” Jeonghan sighs, and you can feel him practically zooming in on your fingers as you tear open Mingyu’s jeans, “but you two are actually really hot together.”

The confident man towering over you falters, and you watch the hint of a blush creep up his neck and bloom across his ears. 

He better not actually be in love with you.

“Puppy-” you draw Mingyu’s attention back to you with the petname, “help me with my shirt?”

He makes it as easy as lifting your arms, and the handsome idol tosses your shirt across the room, pushing you back down onto the bed. His lips brush past your neck and begin to descend, one of his large hands slipping under your back to undo the clasp of your bra-

“We’ve all heard you’ve got pretty tits, baby,” Jeonghan’s voice breifly distracts you, and you turn your head to the side to blink at him- but then Mingyu is tearing your bra off, mouth latching onto your nipple- “Pretty tits confirmed.” 

You can’t help but laugh a little at the dichotomy you’re experiencing. 

Mingyu is completely hot and bothered, massaging your breasts and pressing his thigh up between your legs- Jeonghan, on the other hand, is offering these small comedic relief musings while messing around with your phone camera-

“Gyu-” you run your fingers through Mingyu’s hair, tugging him away from your chest, “I wanna ride you now.”

“Fuck- yeah, right-” the idol swallows thickly, and then you’re both rolling, Mingyu manhandling you into the top position. He blinks up at you from where his head is now resting back against the pillows, and even Jeonghan lets out a shaky breath. 

“You look really good on top, baby,” Jeonghan tells you, likely voicing the thoughts of the man still staring up at you in awe. 

“Yeah?” you swivle your hips, resting your hands against Mingyu’s beautiful chest. “Just wait till I start to actually ride him.”

Both men let out small groans, and you lean down to press your lips to Mingyu’s. His fingers dig into your hips, but he allows you to begin kissing down his neck, then chest.

You move down his body, picking up where you’d left off with the waistband of his jeans. 

Mingyu is quick to lift his hips, making it easier for you to tug everything down.

You’re practically drooling when his large, hard cock slaps up against his abdomen. 

Wrapping your hands around his length, you kitten lick at the head before slipping more of him into your mouth, sucking and twirling your tongue. 

“Shit- your mouth does feel like heaven,” Mingyu groans above you, reaching down to brush some hair out of your face. 

You can feel Jeonghan getting closer for better shots, and you open your eyes to look up at Mingyu. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty with your mouth stuffed, baby,” Jeonghan coos, and in the periphery of your mind you can hear coins signifying donations. 

You suck Mingyu even harder, and he releases a loud moan, hips pushing up and forcing his cock deep into your throat-

“Shit, fuck- need you to ride me-” Mingyu gasps, pulling you off of his cock.

You take a breath, recuperating momentarily before following through with the request. You quickly shimmy up his body, grabbing the base of his length to line up with your entrance before you sit down on his cock, letting it fill you inch by inch. 

“Gyu-” you groan, “so big-” 

“You can take it,” he assures you, the hands on your waist helping you slowly lower yourself until you’re completely seated, stuffed to the brim. “Fuck- yeah, just like that-” 

You lean over Mingyu, palms flat against the bed on either side of his head. When your lips meet, it’s as eager as ever, his hands grabbing at your lower back, fingers smoothing up your spine- 

You lift your hips a little before sinking back onto Mingyu’s cock, and you groan into each others mouths. His hands slip down to your waist again, and he aids you with finding a rhythm.

You know if Mingyu was on top, he’d be going much rougher and faster than you are, but you suppose this is part of the fun of teasing him. He has to take you slowly, has to adjust to a pace you’re dictating. 

With one last small bite to his lower lip, you sit up again, resting your hands flat on his chest as an anchor. You begin to ride him faster, the sound of skin slapping skin getting increasingly noisy.

“Such pretty tits-” Mingyu groans, reaching to cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers. 

The sensation makes you shudder, throwing your head back as you ride him, lost in the feeling of his large hands and massive cock- 

“You’re so deep Mingyu- I can feel you everywhere,” you tell him, thighs already straining, muscles tight. 

“Yeah?” Mingyu’s hands glide down to your hips again, and one braces over your abdomen, “feel me here?”

“Uh huh, so deep-” you whimper, releasing a gasp when he stretches his thumb down to circle your clit.

“Fuck, you’re so tight- so good,” he groans, the hand on your hip urging you to bounce faster on his cock. 

“Can you guys switch to reverse cowgirl?” Jeonghan asks, and his words make you falter. “It would look great on camera.”

“Yeah-” you find yourself agreeing, “give me a sec-” 

Mingyu lets out a frustrated groan as you lift off his cock and adjust, turning around to face the foot of the bed, where Jeonghan is now positioned with your phone in hand. 

You reach below yourself for Mingyu, sinking back down on him-

“What if you just hold yourself there and let him fuck up into you?” Jeonghan suggests. “You were looking a little tired from riding, baby- not used to being on top?”

“No,” you confess, thighs burning as you lift yourself again, giving Mingyu space to latch onto your hips and begin thrusting up into your core. “Fuck- yeah, that feels good-”

“Rub your clit for us?”

Jeonghan truly has all the good ideas today, and the moment you touch your sensitive nub, your skin starts to tingle. A moan slips out of you, and it turns into a whine when Mingyu gives a praticularily rough thrust up into your pussy, hitting a spot deep inside of you that has your toes curling.

“Feels amazing, right?” Jeonghan grins, moving closer to get a good shot of your tight cunt taking all of Mingyu’s cock. 

“Uh huh,” you bite into your lower lip, feeling your orgasm begining to bubble again in the pit of your stomach. 

“Jeonghan-” Mingyu groans from beneath you, “give me the camera- baby, you look so fucking good taking my cock like this-”

The elder man has to get close to you to pass the phone to his friend, and you find yourself looking Jeonghan up and down with the proximity. 

As he moves to pull away, to return to the foot of the bed, you hook a finger in his belt, making him stop, eyes meeting yours.

“I think I need something to suck on,” you tell him.

“Fuck, really?” He swallows thickly. “You sure?” 

“Of course.” You begin to fumble with his pants, and Jeonghan helps you slip them down. You trace the outline of his hard cock straining against his breifs before those too are pushed out of the way.

You grab the base of his length with one hand, the other flat on the bed so you can lean over Mingyu’s knees while wrapping your mouth around Jeonghan’s cock.

Both men let out moans of pleasure, and Mingyu fucks into you even harder, fingers digging into your hip, guiding you to bounce a little on him while he ruts up to meet you.

You enjoy getting lost in the moment, lost in the feeling of Jeonghan’s length hitting the back of your throat- 

“Fuck- so good, baby, so good-” Jeonghan groans above you, grabbing your head to help guide your mouth along his length. 

“Shit-” Mingyu’s hips twitch, “I’m gonna cum soon- Jeonghan, take the camera back.”

You feel the man above you reaching for your phone, but you’re too focused on sucking the soul out of his dick too care, tongue twirling this way and that.

Now that you’ve all found a rhythm, you can let go of the base of Jeonghan’s cock, and your hand returns between your own legs, fingers rubbing your clit. 

You’re as close as Mingyu is, and the sounds of pleasure that both men are making take you even closer to the edge.

“Fuck- so tight, baby, so fucking good for us-” Mingyu grunts, fucking into you even faster. “Want you to cum with me-”

“Rub that pretty clit and cum with Mingyu,” Jeonghan joins in, his words prompting you to apply even more pressure to your sensitive nub.

You moan lewdly around Jeonghan’s cock, and he pulls you off of him so your sounds can fill the whole room as Mingyu fucks you closer and closer-

“Shit, fuck- just like that, just like that-” Mingyu’s voice is getting pitchier, and it adds to his charm, making your pussy clench tightly around him- “Fuck- cum with me, baby, cum with me-”

Jeonghan cups your chin as your pussy explodes around Mingyu, forcing you to look up at him and the camera as your orgasm overtakes you. The angle of your neck makes it impossible to stifle any of your moans, and they loudly tumble past your lips, making your skin tingle with overwhelm.

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, his hips unrelenting as they smack up to meet your own, fingers digging into your skin. 

Jeonghan has his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it as he watches you and his friend come undone. “Fuck, this is so hot-” 

“Hannie-” you moan desperately, “want your cum too-”

“Yeah? Our little cam baby needs more cum? Where do you want it, princess? Face, tongue, chest-”

“On my tits,” you say instinctively. “Please-” 

There’s really only one man you let cum in your mouth- and as much as you like Jeonghan, he’s not the dominant you usually get on your knees for. 

You straighten on top of Mingyu’s cock, grabbing both of your boobs to press them together, giving Jeonghan an ample target as he works harder on himself, the camera shaking in his hand to capture everything-

“Fuck, okay- I’m almost there-” Jeonghan grunts, closing his eyes and throwing his head back-

Ropes of hot, white, sticky cum are coating your breasts a moment later, and Mingyu slows his thrusts, finishing his orgasm and allowing you to stay a steady target for his friend.

“So good, Hannie-” you whisper, which only makes Jeonghan groan louder, head lolling forward so he can watch you as he finishes, pumping slower on his cock-

“Fuck, baby- shit, you look amazing-” he tells you, letting out a gasp as his orgasm subsides. 

“Thanks for the cum, guys,” you breathe, trying to ground yourself even as you’re still seated on Mingyu’s cock. 

“You’re something else,” Jeonghan groans, reaching down to grasp the bottom of your chin, forcing the camera close to your face before letting it dip to show off the mess he’s made on your chest. 

“I’m your cam baby,” you tell him happily, and you’re rewarded by the sounds your phone makes- chat notifications and coin donations. 

“I guess you should say goodbye to the cam room?” Jeonghan suggests.

“Goodbye cam room, thanks for watching,” you smile, focusing on the camera until Jeonghan’s ended the live and tossed your phone onto the bed.

“What now?” Mingyu asks behind you.

“Now, I go have a shower and wash all this stuff off-” you explain, “and when I’m done, I’m guessing a few more members will be kicking around.”

“Hoshi’s gonna want to bang you, you know,” Jeonghan muses with a mischievous grin.

“He can wait,” you say simply, lifting yourself off of Mingyu’s cock. “I’m actually more worried about Cheol ditching the studio early to come back here and see me.”

“Do you have a thing for Cheol, princess?” Jeonghan asks, reaching out a hand to help you get to your feet next to the bed.

“I have a thing for soft daddy doms,” you admit. “Cheol gives off vibes that I think I could work well with.”

“And we don’t?” Mingyu jokes, but there’s something beneath the jovial tone.

“Don’t be getting all jealous and possessive now, Gyu,” you remind him with a laugh. “That usually doesn’t work well for anyone.” 

Sometimes you hate putting up this emotional wall- but someone has to. You have to protect yourself while doing this- these idol cam shows can be deadly if you’re not careful, and you’re not the type to go looking for a broken heart. 

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[hells-wasabii]

Oh I have an idea! What about Velvette’s girlfriend meeting the other Vees for the first time?

A/N: I'm baaaack. Sorry for the sudden hiatus everybody, life got crazy and I just haven't had the time to write like i did when I started. Hopefully that'll change soon cuz there's still like 90 reqs in my inbox that I plan on writing. If I manage to get back down to a more reasonable number I may reopen reqs. but for now, here's some Velvette. A fair warning, though, I personally feel that this one is a little dialogue heavy, but hopefully yall enjoy it nonetheless

Character: Velvette

Type: Drabble (Velvette x fem!reader introducing gf to the Vee's, Fluff)

The initial pleasantries were out of the way, introductions and the like. It had gone well enough, you supposed, at least that part was over with. As bad as it sounded, you were thankful. Maybe you might actually survive the night after all.

“You know, darling, you’re quite the looker, have you ever considered a career in the film industry?” You shift your weight from one foot to the other, chuckling nervously before the overlords, because what the hell were you supposed to say to that? What the hell have you gotten yourself into? 

Velvette, who stood to your right, shot Valentino a sharp glare. A warning. There sure had been plenty of those tonight already, hadn’t there? The first of the night had been your own.

The influencer had told you what to expect before you had even set foot in Vee Tower. When your girlfriend had invited you to meet the rest of the Vee’s you had initially been unsure. Yeah, you knew Velvette already, the self-proclaimed backbone, the other two surely couldn’t be that, bad right?

“So…” Vox started, a serious expression settling upon his screen as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What are your intentions with our dear Velvette?”

Okay, so that’s where the night was going. Great. Maybe you’d been wrong, but all things considered, it genuinely felt as if you were meeting her parents. They had been surprisingly casual so far, but the trio of overlords had a reputation for being unpredictable, so that could really change at any minute, you realized. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you sputtered in response. Shit, you’d expected the other two overlords to be intimidating, but definitely not like this.

Velvette was quick to respond, slamming a not-so-subtle heel into his foot. The video star let out a yelp, electricity crackling around his screen as he glitched before pulling his leg away as though to defend it from further assault. 

The Vee’s truly were something else, you decided as the tall moth demon continued with another playful gibe.

“Oh no, Voxy, if anything we should be more worried about Velv’s little girlfriend here.” Valentino grinned as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, you inhaled sharply as you were pulled closer. “Is she treating you well, doll?”

“Of course she is.” You couldn’t help it, really. The words rolled off your tongue before you could think better of it. Velvette raised an eyebrow as a lazy smirk Oh there was no doubt in your mind that the influencer would tease you endlessly later.  The way that Velvette flashed you a lazy smirk made your stomach do a little flip. With flushed cheeks, you cleared your throat while the television demon across from you barked out a laugh.

“You can relax, we’re not gonna bite. Why don’t we sit down and you tell us about yourself?” Vox began, though a smirk overtook his welcoming smile as he went on to tease the youngest overlord further. “We’ve already heard so much from Velvette, but I’d much rather hear about you without all the mushy shit.” 

“Oh for fucks sake, what happened to actually behaving yourselves tonight?” the influencer groaned, though there was no real venom to her words. This prompted another chuckle from the other overlords, you even found yourself stifling a laugh.

“Oh my dear we are behaving.” Though the grin on Valentino’s smug face suggested otherwise. You watched as the three continued going back and forth as you were led to a lounge Despite her protests, Velvette was clearly at ease. This was going to be an interesting night, you thought as a fond smile took to your lips.

[veras1ne]

♟️ 🍒 WITH ANI PLZZ

“Insubordinate.”

Hi angel! Sorry I took so long on this request, took a short mental break hiatus because I’ve had a lot on my schedule and it’s caused me to force a break on myself but I’m back and I’m here with your request :)<3🦢

Special thank you to @anisbaby for giving me silly little notes on this and basically being my beta reader LOL

Find my prompt lists here! They are divided into smutfic prompts and fluffy prompts!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Summary 🕊️: Dealing with jealousy was not a strong suit of Anakin’s, and seeing you with another man very close to him was certainly a recipe for a hot disaster, but in the end I think you’ll find it was more of a beautiful disaster.

: ̗̀➛ WARNINGS🪷: Your media consumption is NOT my responsibility, these are your warnings for the following: Jealous sex, semi-public, forbidden relationships, squirting, cum eating, PIV, cunnalingus/eating pussy.

🫧Pairing: Anakin Skywalker/AFAB!Reader

Your laughter pierced through the garden of the Jedi temple. While working there, you became familiar with many of the masters and padawans alike, enough to even form a relationship with their most prized knight, General Skywalker. He often visited your quarters, and you would spend long hours in his company chatting about anything and everything, sharing stories of the war as it unfolded.

What blossomed as a small friendship bloomed into watching the sunrise and taking warm showers holding one another. It was love at first sight. You just couldn’t get enough of him, and he couldn’t get enough of you.Your thoughts were constantly clouded by the feeling of his lips on yours and the heat in your chest when your eyes would meet.

One thing you knew about Anakin was how he felt about competition, and more specifically, jealousy.

Although he knew that there was no other person or creature in the system that could compare to the love that you felt for him, his heart twinged whenever he saw you with another, smiling and laughing in the way that only he made you feel happy. In his mind, he should be the only one to make you feel the butterflies he puts in your stomach and the way your lips fit so perfectly like puzzle pieces.

Even with others he knew very well, like Master Kenobi, his mind couldn’t help but wander as he caught the two of you conversing in the gardens as you were working on planting a new flowerbed.

Your giggles took him back to reality as you looked at Obi-Wan, smiling as he was telling you about something Master Yoda had said earlier that day. "Master Yoda always finds a way to amuse me, but enough about him. I hope the Sun has not been too harsh on you today, yes? I take it you and my padawan have quite the relationship; I always catch the pair of you chatting about,” He playfully suggested it, giving you a sly smile. You turned your head, setting down the shovel, and smiled. "Master Kenobi, you know Anakin and I are just friends. I’ve been working at this temple so long that he’s practically a brother to me." You dusted your hands on your apron, wiping the dirt and clay off and onto your clothes, and moved to the next spot you had dug out before Master Kenobi got your attention.

Anakin’s face fell slightly when you said that, ignoring that Jedi were not supposed to have romantic feelings for others in the first place. "Ah, of course. Well, I must attend my class in order to train the younglings. Hopefully they haven’t been causing any havoc in the gardens recently." He waved his hand dismissively at the following conversation, quickly moving on. "Of course not; have a good session, Master." You smiled and waved goodbye, turning your attention to the abandoned flowers, not realizing the footsteps coming from behind you.

You turned to greet the presence and froze. Anakin’s face was flushed with jealousy and, ultimately, rage. Normally he would put situations like these behind him, but there it was, his deep blue eyes burning holes into you. “Oh, please, don’t let me disturb you. I wouldn’t want my friendly presence to cause you trouble." His words spat like heat from a fire, scorching your skin and causing you to scoff. “Ani, you know it isn’t like that at all; I just didn’t know what to tell him. I don’t want to mess anything up for you." Your voice lowered to barely above a whisper, knowing he couldn’t hear you despite being right beside you. “Please, Anakin, let’s just leave it alone; you know I would never do that to you." You pleaded softly, trying your hardest to keep yourself together.

Anakin shook his head and smiled. "You can call me your friend all you want, but I didn’t think that being just friends meant that I fuck the shit out of you every night and make you scream my name." His hand drifted to your waist, pulling you in to whisper in your ear, "You know that Master Kenobi couldn’t fuck your pussy as good as I can." The words sent chills down your spine as he ran his teeth along your neck and bit the lobe gently.

Your mouth hung open as if you were shocked by his boldness. A low growl rumbled from deep within his chest, sending goosebumps down your arms and causing your entire body to heat up and send fireworks through your fingertips. His grip tightened ever so slightly on the flesh below as he trailed kisses across your cheek.

His breath ghosted against your lips, sending shivers up and down your spine. "Anyone could catch us here, and yet you still want me so bad, don’t you?" You whined as he kissed you, needing to feel his naked skin on yours. Anakin, please. Don’t play these games with me." His hand slipped beneath your apron, caressing over your hips, fingers grazing against your pants, teasing your sensitive nerves.

Your knees nearly buckled under you, and you whimpered against his mouth. His tongue danced around yours and teased you with light strokes.

All you could feel was his hot body, his touch, his scent, and his taste. He lifted your body to rest on his hips, capturing your lips in a kiss and backing into a door, jiggling the doorknob, and walking into the nearest empty room. "You look so divine when you’re out working. Even if you’re all sweaty and dirty, a little grime never hurts anyone." You jeered at his comment, making a face of disgust: "Maker, Anakin, you’re gross." He smiled at you as he set you on the table in front of you, saying, "I don’t think you’ll be saying that after I eat out this pussy. I want to see you cream all on my face, baby." Your breathing grew heavy as lust filled his gaze as he stripped you from your heavy apron and made short work of your dark pants and underwear.

His hands gripped your hips possessively as his thumb traced your folds while his mouth worked to suckle you, earning a loud moan.

The need for his touch had taken control, driving you crazy, and you pushed his head closer to your chest. The feel of his warm tongue swirling over your clit caused you to arch back and thrust your hips forward involuntarily.

Your hands gripped the sides of his head, pushing further towards the center as you moaned louder and louder each time he licked harder, the slurping of your juices causing you to be taken aback in pleasure as he arched you towards your release. Your nose scrunched as you tugged on his hair, eliciting a moan out of his mouth as he pinned down your thighs, causing you to stop squirming as they shook. He was relentless in his attack, and you could feel your orgasm rippling through.

His teeth lightly grazed your entrance as he slowly sank his tongue back inside you, licking away your cum and juices as you gasped in pure ecstasy. He continued for a few minutes, sucking and playing with your clit until he stopped, kissing the inside of your thighs and coming up from your pussy, his chin glistening from your cum and liquids.

After his tongue had left you and you were able to catch your breath, you reached your arms up to cup his jaw as you gazed into his eyes. "Thank you, baby." Anakin smirked before removing his robes and belt, "You know nobody else could ever fuck you like I can." His voice was snarky and vile, his dark blue eyes staring at you almost as if he had something to prove as he pulled out his cock and positioned himself at your entrance, sliding into you slowly with a soft groan. Shortly, you were moaning underneath his thrusts and begging for more of his touches.

Once again, he placed his lips on yours as he picked up the pace and moved his hips faster, creating sparks between your bodies that made you squirm on the table. "Thank you so fucking much—thank you, Ani." You moaned out in a whine as he tweaked with your nipple, eliciting a shock through your body, which translated to pleasure. You clutched onto his shoulders as he continued to move faster, your legs shaking beneath him. You came in a rush as his thrusts hit your sweet spot, as well as a few spasms in his cock as he chased his own high.

You cried out once more as he continued to move his hips rapidly into yours, the overstimulation bringing you to another orgasm, this time your liquids spraying on your partner, soaking your bodies in your release as he came inside of you, the both of your cum dripping from your pussy as he wiped it with his fingers and stuffed his cream back into your wet hole. "Put your pants and apron on. We’re going to take a little stroll back to your quarters," he commanded, handing your garments to you as you obeyed him.

Taking your hand, he helped you get back to your feet as he wrapped his robe around you, leaving him in his undershirt and pants.

The light of the sun made you squint as you looked outside, your attention being redirected as Obi-Wan coughed next to you, his face filled with disgust and recognition, but no words were exchanged.

“Hello Master!" Anakin smiled at him cheerfully and waved as Master Kenobi walked past, trying to avoid the mess between you and Anakin. “Anakin." He dismissed Ani with a nod, walking off and trying not to laugh as he sensed your embarrassment once you slapped Anakin’s arm. "Anakin! What happened to being inconspicuous?" He smiled at you, holding your waist, and said, "Just a reminder that I’m the only one you should be touching yourself to at night." His pride struck a chord with you as you scoffed.

"You really are gross."

[multifandomfanficss]

Why Is This So Surprising?

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

(With cameos from all of the 11th Street Kids)

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Prompt: The team sees a softer side to Adrian when his partner gets upset.

Warnings: Descriptions of something similar to a panic attack or autistic meltdown

A/N: So funny story this has actually been in my drafts for almost year and I forgot about it because I broke my phone the week I wrote it and got a new phone, but I’m thinking of maybe ending my hiatus and coming back soon. In the meantime I have some old fics I never posted. College and my mental health got in the way and I never got to finish some old WIPs, but I think I might finally be ready to pick them back up again! Hope you enjoy! ❤️🧜‍♂️❤️

You felt your breath catch in your throat as your lungs expand and contract trying to get air in. You were trying to forget about the mission you had just been on and you were having little success. You were able to push down your emotions on the car ride back to the old video store and you were currently staring at the piano, avoiding eye contact, in an effort to block out what Harcourt was saying. If you didn’t hear the debriefing it couldn’t be real, right? If you didn’t hear how terrible the mission went, it just simply didn’t happen. Sadly that wasn’t true. You found it getting harder for you to breathe. You pushed yourself up from your chair, getting ready to walk upstairs to be by yourself for a minute when you’re stopped by Harcourt.

“Where do you think you’re going? I didn’t say you could leave. This is important.” She starts.

“I don’t need a recap of this. Thanks.” You say, continuing upstairs, your voice cracking.

“Hey, (L/N), we all did things we aren’t proud of today-“

“You didn’t do what I did!” You yell at her. Suddenly the room starts spinning. It all just feels too real. You can feel everything and it’s too much. You hear a clock ticking, water rushing through pipes, feet slapping on the pavement outside, the click click clicking of heels, the electricity in the lights, the lights that just won’t stop flickering. You back up into a wall and slide down it, tears blocking your vision. You let a sob come out.

“What are we supposed to do?” Chris asks quietly, standing up and walking closer.

“I don’t fucking know! I’ve never seen them like this!” Harcourt whisper yells. Adebayo stands up and walks over to you, the rest of the team crowding around. They’re making it harder to breathe until you start hyperventilating.

“What can we do for you?” She asks.

“You guys can move the fuck over. Give them some space.” Adrian says, pushing his way through the crowd. “Somebody go get them some water.” He commands and John leaves the room to grab you a glass. “Are you pro touch or anti touch right now?” He asks, but you feel like you’re underwater. You feel like speaking is like moving through quicksand and you just can’t manage it. Adrian slowly puts his hand out towards you, like a wounded animal. He tries to take your hand in his and at first a little jumpy, you let him. He puts your hand over his chest and takes deep exaggerated breaths. “Follow my breathing, okay? In and out.” He instructs you and you breathe together. “You’re doing such a good job.” He praises. When your breathing becomes somewhat regulated Adrian moves so he’s sitting against the wall and you’re leaning against his chest. He’s giving you the pressure you so desperately need, as he sways with you. He brings you back to this planet. Slowly, gravity starts to feel normal again. Now that you can breathe a steady stream of tears starts to flow. He wipes them occasionally as you lay with your ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat drown out the other noises that were too loud. “It wasn’t your fault. You did your best. You’re okay. Everything is okay.” He reminds you. John hands him the glass of water. “Here, (Y/N), drink this. You need to stay hydrated.” Adrian reminds you, as you take the glass of water. It feels cool against your throat which had previously felt like fire. “Thank you.” Adrian says to John.

“You’re welcome.” John responds. The rest of the team just stares. They’ve been staring the whole time. You don’t even notice the stares and neither does Adrian. Your minds are on more important matters. You completely forget they’re there until they start to speak up.

“How did you know what to do?” Harcourt asks.

“What do you mean?” Adrian answers her question with another question.

“Well we didn’t even know what to do and you say you don’t have emotions.” John comments.

“I say I don’t have emotions like other people. That doesn’t mean I don’t have emotions. I just have them differently.” He clarifies.

“Well you clearly don’t know what to do when I’m crying.” Chris starts. He then clears his throat. “I mean if I had cried you wouldn’t know what to do. Because I never cry! Crying is for babies!” He adds. Adebayo gives him a look and Harcourt slaps him on the arm.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Harcourt whisper yells. You don’t take offense to his comment. You know he has masculinity issues.

“First of all crying is healthy. It’s a fundamental part of human nature. Second of all they’re my partner. We’ve slept in the same bed for over a year. I’d think I’d know how to take care of them. Why is this so surprising?” Adrian roles his eyes at the others while they shrug. Everyone has something to say, but they just decide to keep their mouths shut. As the tears start to slow, you shift in his arms, getting more comfortable. You don’t realize how tired you are until your eyes start to get heavy after you’ve made it to a comfortable position. You look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Can we go home now?” You ask.

“Of course, Babe.” He says, planting a kiss on the top of your head. Adrian moves you off of his lap, stands, and reaches out a hand for you to lift yourself up with. The others wish you well as you collect your things to go home.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to come in tomorrow. Get some rest…and Chase…I’m sorry we underestimated you.” Harcourt tells the both of you. You can’t see your boyfriend’s goofy smile in the dark of the night outside the video store, but you can hear it in his voice as he thanks Harcourt and bids his goodbye. When you get home Adrian puts you in his softest t-shirt and you climb into bed. He pulls you to lay on him and you don’t object. You enjoy the feeling of his chest rising and falling and the sound of his heartbeat. You like that you can hear it better now that his suit is off. It’s comforting. He’s comforting.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buddie One Shot Fanfics: Hiatus Reading

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

I write fanfics and post them on AO3 because that’s where CANON & FANON collide.  I get to have fun and incorporate CANON facts about Buck and Eddie into my FANON fiction writings about them.

Find me on AO3 at Fanonwriter2023.

Fanfics currently available on AO3

One Shots

The Buckley-Diaz Family

Let’s go visit daddy! - 2.1K words; Rated General Audiences:  After a tough call, Eddie visits Buck at the firehouse.

The Buckley-Diaz Family Budget - 7.6K Words; Rated General Audiences:  After completing their weekly grocery shopping and realizing inflation has increased the costs of all the food they usually purchase, Eddie returns home, calls a family meeting and explains to Buck and Chris their family needs to tighten their budget.  But something important happens that prompts Eddie to break the family’s ‘no spend challenge’.

You’re the youngest firefighter to ever make Captain within the LAFD! - 5.6K words; Rated General Audiences: Buck’s nervous about his first day as Captain of the 118 but Eddie’s there to encourage him because he knows Buck can do it.

Married

“Always remember how much I love you!” - 16.2K Words; Rated Mature:  Eddie receives a terminal medical diagnosis but he hides it from Buck.  Buck can tell something’s wrong and when Eddie finally tells him what happened, they work through it together.

“You Mean the World to Me!” -  7.8K Words Rated: Teen and Up Audiences:  After a chance encounter at the scene of an accident, Eddie decides to surprise Buck and they fall even more in love than they already are.

Dating, Engaged & Love Confessions

Let me love you - 3.3K words; Rated General Audiences:  Or Eddie doesn't think he deserves to be loved by Buck but he's wrong and Buck proves just how wrong he is.

I love the way you heat things up in the kitchen - 4.2K words; Rated Mature: Buck is supposed to be teaching Eddie how to bake a cake but they end up leaving the uncooked batter on the counter as things heat up between them.

“Believe half of what you see” - 7.7K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences:  With only a few weeks left until their wedding, Eddie sees Buck having dinner with a woman and he assumes he’s not enough for him and he thinks he never will be. But did he actually see what he thought he saw?  

6x11 Speculation

“You’re my angel... oh angel” (Eddie prays) - 1.9K words; Rated General Audiences:  Eddie can’t lose Buck, his angel and the love of his life.  After Buck’s wheeled into the ER, Eddie goes to the hospital’s chapel to ask, no plead for him to live.

Chris talks to “his Buck” - 2.2K words; Rated General Audiences:  Chris talks to “his Buck/second dad” while Buck's in a coma.

Season 7 FANON Speculation

“You wanna go for the title?” - The Rematch - 7.5K Words; Rated Mature: Eddie asks Buck for a rematch to the video game they played three years ago. However, the stakes are much higher this time because Eddie's playing to win Buck’s heart.

Alone Together - 13.3K Words; Rated: Mature:  While Chris is away at Summer Camp, Eddie plans a weekend getaway for him and Buck because he’s going to prove to him that he does not suck at dating.

[alexanderlightweight]

hello! can you share the name/link of that fanfiction you mentioned where alec is the institute?

omg I am so, so sorry I have not finished writing it yet. i dont even have a name it's Insitute!alec in my drives. It was actually one of the projects I was working on before i had to take a hiatus for health etc and i was just talking about it

but i did not make that clear so here!! my reply took a while cause I finished a few prompts and then i went and finished the first chapter just for you! because i do love this fic and i'm so excited someone is interested in it!

so first chapter of my unnamed Alec is the Institute fic (you're not actually supposed to know that yet so it's written kind of sneaky).

--

Raphael sits in the basement cells of the New York Institute, he shivers despite the fact that he can’t actually feel the cold.  He knew it was a risk to bring Simon’s body here to the Institute. But while he is limited in his power to act directly against Camille, he had felt it his duty to deliver the mundane boy’s body to his friends.  

And if, it eased his mind a bit, that Simon’s nephilim friend Clary would be there to comfort Simon’s mother, then that was a boon for him alone.  To know that at least one mother did not have to mourn in confused pain the disappearance of her son.  

Raphael closes his eyes, stretching out his senses only to hit the chilled wards of angelic magic that hiss against him.  It is strange, to be so cut off from the world, but despite the danger involved it is an almost relaxing sensation.  To be cut off from all his extra senses and just exist for a moment.  True, he would enjoy it more if the fear of angelic torture didn’t linger over his head, but Raphael takes what he can, where he can.

It’s therefore a shock to him, to open his eyes and see a figure watching him.  The cell he is in is brightly lit, but the halls around it are dim with shadows and it takes a moment for him to focus.  

He’s tall, the shadowhunter who watches him.  Tall and broad with dark features that watch him with a relaxed air.

This one is more dangerous, Raphael realizes, than any of the other nephilim he’d met that day.

“Downworlder magic is an interesting thing,” the shadowhunter says, without introduction or warning.  “Nephilim magic is more limited, requiring blessed conduits to be of use.  Warlocks however, their abilities are only limited by their individual knowledge and power.”

Raphael stays silent, wondering exactly where the shadowhunter is going with this.

“The High Warlock of Brooklyn put my wards up himself, a beautiful piece of magic.”  The shadowhunter continues, “New York has one of the most defensible Institutes in the world.  The only fault I’ve ever found with Bane’s work is his tendency to sign it.” The man takes another step forward and Raphael sees the vibrant blue lines of angelic power, active in his eyes.   “Imagine my surprise when I read through the reports only to find that not only do we have a guest, but one who is very clearly under the High Warlock’s protection.”  

Raphael stiffens.  That is... the shadowhunter is not wrong.  But that is a secret.  Nephilim shouldn’t be able to see that, regardless of what runes the man has active.

There is a wry, almost exasperated curl of the shadowhunter’s lip, “sadly, I was less surprised to see that not only were you not processed but that there is absolutely no crime you have committed that warranted you being thrown in here.”

“The mundane—” Raphael starts, before pursing his lips.  He hardly wants to give the man a reason to keep him there.

“You were not the one who killed him. You were the one who brought his body back. It’s a rare thing, even my shadowhunters wouldn’t have risked such a deed on enemy territory.” The shadowhunter pauses and looks him over, “it’s an honorable deed and my people have reacted with dishonor.”

“Your people?” Raphael asks warily as the shadowhunter

“Alec Lightwood, I’m their Commander. I’ll be punishing them all, they had no jurisdiction and no permission.” And Lightwood has a stele out, one that he’s using to unlock Raphael’s cell doors. 

No alarms ring, no wards come on. No shadowhunters popping out to accuse him of escape.  The halls are eerily empty as he’s like deep underground and to a tunnel. Lightwood is fearless, back easily turned and Raphael feels fear at how casual he is. Sometimes it feels as if the walls and the very floors they are walking on are shifting, changing where they’re going.  

And then he’s being led up and up again and a small door opens and Raphael stares. He’s at the boundary line of the Institute, far away from the entrance and closest to the direction of the Hotel Dumort.

It’s a straight shot from here, more than enough for him to get back in time for the sun and without seeing a single of the ungrateful shadowhunters who had locked him up.

Raphael doesn’t say thank you. Lightwood was right, his shadowhunters acted dishonorably and what Raphael did was dangerous for himself. He does stop though and nod, just a quick little flash of a thing and then he’s gone.

—

Alec sighs as he watches the vampire leave.  This is going to cause problems, the least of which will be Isabelle, Jace and their new pet project.  He sighs again, shaking his head as he shuts and bars the door, watching it meld back into stone.  The way will close behind Santiago, as though it never existed.  He doubts the vampire would be so crass as to try and betray Alec by exposing the passage, but there is no need to be careless.

With that in mind he prepares himself, mentally going through the reports — and the lack of reports — from the last few days. 

Clary Fray is a disaster. 

He would be lenient except she has now expressly betrayed everything the Institute stands for, as well as put the lives of his shadowhunters in jeopardy.  Both with the downworld and with the clave. 

Raphael Santaigo had done them a boon.  To shackle him away was a disservice to both his actions and the future.  It is a relief that Alec caught it in time and eased the situation.

Now, to deal with the mundane.

It is worse than he’d thought.

The mundane is buried, a chance at a new life as one of the undead. Alec doesn’t have a problem with this, except for the fact that they’ve effectively chased off the only vampiric mentor they’d had around. Or perhaps the plan was to keep him locked up until they needed him.

It takes him a moment to reign in his anger and then he’s effectively cutting off whatever sentiment he holds for Jace and Isabelle.  He allows himself a certain amount of it, a degree of emotionality that most would consider extreme for someone of his capabilities. 

Now he gathers his power, wields his authority like a gavel and summons them. All of them and he puts them each in an isolation cell, where they will stay long past when Fray’s friend will be reborn.

Fray has no defense against his orders, especially not when Jace and Isabelle bend to his will.  

They don’t like it, but they heed it.  They have no other choice.

It won’t take much longer for Alec to be done with them and they know it. If Alec decides to ship their asses to Idris or even to Wrangle Isle, then it will happen.  It’s something Fray has yet to learn but Alec doesn’t care if it makes him cruel, one more mistake and he’ll beat her down in front of the whole Institute. 

Again and again, until the lesson takes or he sends whats left of her to the clave to deal with.

It takes him longer than he likes to decide what to do next about the body buried and waiting to crawl out, what route to take.  When he finally decides hours later, he finds himself settled against the cold stone of a grave and wonders just how he ended up here.

Decades of life and yet still he finds himself unprepared for surprises such as this.  His duty is to his shadowhunters.  His power is finite beyond the territory of his walls and while he considers it part of his pact to maintain —  at the very least — a good relationship with the downworld, this goes beyond that.

It’s been years since he’s had to put himself in a place of vulnerability, of dealing with outside forces that he doesn’t quite understand.  

He hopes this is worth it.

“Lightwood,” Santiago’s voice comes from the shadows and Alec merely nods his head.  He was aware the moment the vampire crossed the boundary. 

“If he transitions, it may be more violent than you’re used to.”  Is all he says, the vampire steps closer, into the glow of the streetlamp and Alec notes he already looks better.  He’s fed then.  

Good.  

He’s going to need all his strength to deal with a fledgling, especially one in the throes of madness.

“I’ve handled newborns before.” Santiago’s voice is calm but wary, he doesn’t like this. Coming back to this place or seeing Alec again and Alec doesn’t blame him.

“And yet, I doubt you’ve ever had to deal with one like this.  Most people are smart enough not to create a cradle for a fledgling in hallowed ground.  His mind will be open, a raw wound and the consecrated and angelic power of this place won’t help.  You’ll need to be fast and careful.”

Santiago seems to take his words into due consideration before he nods and steps even closer, crouching to run his fingers through the fresh dirt of Simon’s grave.  Alec watches unblinking as the man gathers up a handful of the dirt and seals it into a small box.  He says nothing, Santiago doesn’t either.

Dawn approaches, a danger to the soft glow of warmth that he knows will soon come and Alec steps back as the fledgling crawls from his death-womb and arises into a new life.

His old one is dead.

—

Raphael murmurs prayers and curses alike under his breath as he wrestles with Simon.

The shadowhunter was right.

Simon is unlike any newborn he’s ever helped birth. He’s feral and incandescent in his raw agony. He’s screaming not from hunger but from pain and Raphael pales even further than his corpse pallor when he realizes what Lightwood meant. Simon was buried in blessed ground, on the lines of an angelic core and he is suffering from the agony of being tortured as he was born.

“Help me!” Raphael demands without meaning to. He’s furious at himself for thinking a group of barely adult shadowhunter could properly take care of this.  He can’t believe who he thought was Simon’s friend would do this to him. To put him through this kind of agony.  

Simon is torn away from him, which isn’t what he meant and he feels a rush of fear before he realizes that there is calm.

Simon hangs limp but awake if not aware, terrified and trembling even though his heart doesn’t beat and his blood doesn’t flow. 

He’s not trying to bite Lightwood at all. 

Instead he’s got his mouth clamped shut so tight that not a fang pokes out.

“I suggest feeding him like this.” Lightwood says, calm and collected like he didn’t just subdue a newborn feral fledgeling with what is basically a hug.

Lightwood’s got Simon trapped to his chest, his arms wrapped tight so that Simon can’t use his own arms.

But Simon could kick and thrash or bite, but he’s not doing any of those things. So Raphael approaches slowly and he carefully opens a bottle instead of a pack.  Simon’s eyes light up with hunger but he doesn’t move, not a fang peeks out.

And Raphael realizes with horrified terror that Simon has reverted to nothing but instincts.

And currently, he is more afraid of the man holding him than his instincts can handle. Raphael carefully feeds Simon, barely able to get his mouth open and while he drinks greedily, eagerly and ravenously... he is still. He makes no noises, no growls or hisses, no lunging for the blood. Just trembling as he drinks and when Raphael deems him full enough, Lightwood drops him without warning and takes five steps back.

Simon lunges for Raphael and Raphael readies himself to finally fight, except Simon is already behind him, hands curled into Raphael’s jacket and still trembling.

“What is he?” Simon asks, whisper-soft and from their brief interactions, Raphael hadn’t thought Simon knew how to whisper. 

“A shadowhunter.” Raphael says because Simon has met shadowhunters before, just not while a vampire.

 Simon looks even more terrified. 

“You went up against a group of those guys, willingly?” he babbles, clearly in a panic and still consumed by fear. “Are you insane? I mean, I know Camille is but I didn’t think you were. How can you handle it, the way he feels? He smells so good but I couldn’t even think about it. Like if I tried, I’d be dead again. For good this time.”

Raphael doesn’t know what to say. Because that’s even stranger, that Simon felt such a great fear of Lightwood that he ignored the divine scent of angelic blood. Raphael had thought that maybe being born on the Institute land had made Simon immune to the song of nephilim blood.

Lightwood is watching them and Raphael suddenly feels like prey. 

“You need to leave.” They’re told, but it’s not a threat and Raphael realizes with terror that this is taking longer than he thought and it’s too near dawn. “Go here, there’s nothing much there but it will be dark and secure. My part is done here, he’s your problem now.”

“Wait, where’s Clary?” Simon is asking, “why, how am I a vampire? What’s even going on?”

Lightwood gives them both an unimpressed look and turns to Raphael and just says, “go.”

And Raphael goes, dragging Simon with him as he flees the coming sun and the cold, inhuman look in Lightwood’s eyes.  It’s never been more clear to him than in that moment that nephilim are truly, only half human.

[staraxiaa]

shutter-click, the afterword:

author's corner/first thoughts.

firstly, to those of you who know what it's like, and those of you who don't, i hope i did these themes justice. i'm not sure if this is an entirely accurate representation - i tried to take some of my own experiences and exaggerate it into what fit for my vision of the story. i apologize if i have trivialized any aspect of it. also there is like. negative actual romance like the tension is not there bc i imagine them to be pure balls of sweetness and fluff and like. it will probably happen? but like 5 years down the line. i called this story shutter-click partially after the sound of a camera, and partially because when i think of pictures now, i think of the importance of the memories present in them. it could be the ugliest picture you have ever seen, and yet it still means something to someone, because it reminds them of something they might have forgotten once upon a time. that's also why the reader names the first collection shutter-click - in part in reference to the title, but also the importance of these 'pictures' that are carried on throughout life. i.e. nanny's grin, the first person to ever believe in them, which also helps them overcome a great many barriers. ngl i didnt think about the rest of the art. maybe the rest should also be smile-inspired. but i am not going to call it the smile collection. this was also in no way sunflower caliber LOL sorry. genuinely have no clue i feel like the pacing was really fast. too fast. shouldve probably spent more time with the growth era. i will very likely revisit a similar concept eventually ok now that that's over - rant time. this was the brainchild of a discarded mc concept for another of my works. i couldn't quite get her character to fit with my vision, and then this was born. i wrote all of this in a day. i said i would take a break. well, i didn't. lowkey a hiatus time now <3 sorry. really wanted to get more work done on porcelain but then i was like WHAT IF and then i thought of a kiri fic. and then u know what i realized? mc is literally just katsuki like. i am in despair like now i really want to make porcelain a coming of age fic too. discovering oneself, forging yourself anew. what if it was a whole collection. oh my god. please send me some katsuki asks so i can brainrot over him instead (please) mentally i feel like the clown meme music and a thousand bouncing balls in my brain all at once. i have been listening to the same song for seven hours. this was also partially inspired off the prompt 'tragedy of a spare heir' but really reader is neither a spare nor a heir so ? ? ? dunno man i wasnt lying when i said i was tired seriously though, thank you to everyone who commented + liked shared my first work. i genuinely never expected to receive such a positive response, and i hope that this one is up to the same caliber. i still think im a god btw im genuinely on 4 hours of sleep and just churned out like. 10k? in less than 12 hours HAHAHA #if i don't laugh i am going to cry #i want to carve my brain out and examine it. these last few hours were such a blur but it's over. i feel both defeated and glorious at the same time. this was also significantly harder to write than sunflowers. that one was so nice. so easy. i miss it. im never hitting that peak again i think seriously though i think it's temp hiatus time i am emptied of thought will continue updating as i think of things i guess

unwritten scenes, headcanons, more ramble? no clue

i'm not sure if social anxiety disorder/selective mutism is necessarily something you are born with. i am aware that you can develop it as the results of past traumas, but in this case, there is very little explanation about that - it's left unexplained in the fic. could both be from hatred of cameras (ik i hate having photos taken of me lol), but again, a lot of this is entirely exaggerated and fictional. sorry. the nanny was supposed to die, but i am tired. so tired. i did not want to write an angst scene that had no relevance to the happiness of the plot. so now u guys just have the most tooth rotting fluff i have ever written in existence. she doesn't appear again in a lot of the later scenes, did i write her in alive? if i did: she actually lives forever. literally immortal idgaf more about the nanny: i imagined someone who also had difficulties in communication, and i hope that translated in the way her speech was very often broken? idk if that was accurate i wrote all of her dialogue at 3am and passed out right after. probably definitely isn't in japanese. my english was not englishing at this time. i hope it was made clear in the fic: everything that the reader that thought about herself and her relationships was wrong, with regards to the parents/sister. idk if this is accurate, but in my mind, and from my experience, my social anxiety at least is that i overthought a lot of things, misinterpreted a lot as well. soooo actually guys you DO have a loving family! i am saving the trauma for porcelain! honestly, i thought about this fic, and when i think of midoriya i just think of pure innocence lol. does it reflect ? similarly to sunflowers, the themes were childhood friendship and growth. i once again skip out on my proper kiss scene bc i think it would suit them even less than the ones in that one. but at least she kissed him on the cheek. it felt pretty ooc to me though so i think she shouldve just hugged him. at least there is also that the thing is though: you're the one to do everything first. he's really hesitant, because he still remembers you as you were, before you were out of your shell. he doesn't want to push you, overwhelm you in any way. you definitely have to be the one to initiate everything -> i just didnt think the hug + cheek kiss together was in character for me but whatever i wrote it i hope u enjoy you kiss him and hes an absolute fucking dorky mess . but honestly this is like every step in the relationship originally, the all might figurine you gift him was supposed to be a birthday present in return for the camera. this is just a fun fact. also i know both of the characters were both supposed to be insanely socially anxious but that would never have worked out so i took some liberties with it/midoriya's character. hope it still makes sense? also hope that his ramble was in-line with canon oh yeah there was supposed to be a side plot with the dead brother. i cannot tell you what it was, seeing as how i do not remember. probably some form of traumatic thing i removed from porcelain reader doesn't have a described quirk cause i am on negative brain juice and couldn't think. you can imagine that it is something art related if you'd like. but i didnt wanna yap more so.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Faking Yulemas — Part 4: Dear Santa… I Can Explain

For 12 Days of Rowaelin

Prompt: Yulemas Lights

Fic masterlist

I know it’s very rude of me to only post this now, I promise I was not planning to wait that long. I hope you have fun with this fic’s closure!

Warnings: NSFW, language, drinking, mentions of inappropriate intimate tattoos

Word count: 5,5k (oops?)

“Tell me about your parents.”

Rowan hummed, thoughtful. “Dad’s a pretty laid-back guy, but mom keeps him in line. She’s the strict one, I take after her.” A tilt of his head. “I once read online that’s reason why I overthink, but I don’t think they traumatized me that much. Just the normal amount.” He looked at her dead in the eye. “I definitely don’t have daddy issues.”

Chuckling, Aelin elbowed his side. “You’re not helping.”

He deftly gripped her attacking elbow and stroked it with his thumb, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite decipher. “You don’t need to think too hard on it, they’ll be mushy just by knowing you drove all the way here to buy them something.”

Aelin sighed and nodded. She didn’t prepare that much back in Doranelle to this, but now that she’d met the Whitethorns, she wanted to get them a Yulemas present. The hardest part was buying something nice on Yulemas Eve Eve that would fit her student budget, but she’d manage.

Their excuse to come downtown Mistward was so Aelin could get to know the city, and it wasn’t that much of a lie. With streets filled with stores decorated for the holidays, it was a sight. There were people going in all directions, probably late with the gift shopping too. There was also a Santa on a white, wheeled vehicle pulled by a horse that was going around the shopping area. She assumed it was supposed to be Santa Claus in a one horse open sleigh, but she decided to not pick on this poor attempt at Santa. Let them live their inaccurate holiday joy.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” Rowan gave her a pointed look. “I can get that extra jacket on the car.”

Aelin looked down at her red sundress that had an open back and spaghetti straps, frowning. She was fine. Not one arm hair out of place. In the meanwhile, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pants, and she also didn’t miss how his Adam’s apple bobbed before his eyes snapped back to hers.

Interesting.

“Remind me to never take you to Terrasen in the winter,” she snickered. God, Rowan wouldn’t survive a day in knee-deep snow.

His eyes lit up. “That means you’ll take me there in the summer, then?”

“I need enough money to get back there myself first.” Aelin walked ahead of him a little, towards a storefront, so he wouldn’t see her flush. That really sounded like an invitation, didn’t it? And she hoped what she’d just said didn’t sound too much like a dismissal. Truth was, she was confused.

They were fake dating, that was a fact. However, her feelings about Rowan changed a lot since her first day in Mistward. They settled the deal before those piano lessons together. And getting acquainted with his family. Watching him drag Enda’s kids on a sled with the mower did its trick too. And honestly? Aelin wasn’t above the emotional consequences of cuddling at night.

She took a deep breath and stopped pretending that storefroent was interesting, focusing back on Rowan.

He was gazing at her already, a soft look on his eyes.

She was so screwed.

˜˜

After finding a nice gift for his parents, Rowan insisted on having dinner at this fancy pasta place.

The best part of it? The wine.

Aelin was currently explaining to Rowan what only three people in the world knew: the complete chain of events that led her to start a dating hiatus.

“It’s hard to find so many suitable one-night stands, but I had just broken up with Chaol, so I wanted something casually serious. So this guy, Sam… well, he made a family on The Sims with me.”

Rowan frowned. “That’s creepy.”

She sighed. “I know, but I thought it was cute at the time. Anyway. Since we were already married on his game, you’d think he wanted something serious, right?”

He tilted his head. “Right…”

“Wrong!” Aelin yelled, and then looked around, giggling and a bit embarrassed. This wasn’t the kind of restaurant it was okay to be screaming at, but she was blaming the wine. “When I mentioned that we were in a situationship, he said the label was too much.” Sweeping her arms, she forgot once more about keeping a low profile.

Rowan was quietly chuckling at her antics when the food came.

Could it even be called food?

The plate itself reminded her of a Victorian hat with a particularly wide brim. Only for the ladies who liked to be a little extra. She could even imagine some lady called Edith or Cecily pulling this off effortlessly. The border of the plate went for what felt like miles, and after a lot of what seemed like a waste of space in a dishwasher, there was a small depression. The bottom and center of the plate had a small portion of spaghetti cocooned, as wide as her palm if she was lucky.

Looking at Rowan, he seemed to be at loss too. Aelin didn’t know much about his dining habits, but she knew damn well that a portion that size wasn’t enough to grow the kind of muscles he had. Finally looking at her in the eye, he seemed to apologize with his own when she shook her head and smiled. She wasn’t going to complain about being brought to a nice date in a fancy restaurant downtown.

Wait.

Was this a date?

“So Sam was the final nail in the coffin?” Rowan prompted, wanting to know which date was bad enough to make her want to go celibate for a year.

“No, that would be Archer.” He sat back and sipped his wine, waiting. Aelin took a deep breath, steeling herself. “He would always ask me when I’d give him a chance, but I never took him seriously. He was just that kind of guy no one takes seriously, but the bar was so low that I did.”

“It’s really hard to believe that you, of all people, were struggling so much to date.”

Aelin just groaned in response.

“Anyway,” she continued, “The date was fun, and I think he even put in some effort… for his standards. The problem was his tattoo.”

Aelin didn’t miss the way Rowan quickly glanced at his tattooed arm while she said it.

“He had an intimate tattoo,” she explained, followed by a dramatic pause. “Of Pinocchio.”

Rowan blinked, then his eyes slowly widened with the realization of what she was implying, and he seemed to be so surprised they spoke at the same time:

“Please don’t tell me the nose was—”

“And Pinocchio’s nose was—”

Aelin somberly nodded.

Rowan took a sip of his wine. “But did you…” He cleared his throat. “Did you?”

She gaped. “I would never sit on Pinocchio’s nose.”

He nodded, looked at his food and took a swig of his wine before resuming his dinner. Aelin wondered if she ruined it by mentioning another man’s dick tat, but he looked up at her with a resolved look on his face.

“You do realize that the amount of guys with inappropriate tattoos or virtual families with you isn’t that big, right?”

Aelin didn’t like his tone. She leaned away from Rowan on her chair and asked a little too defensive, “Your point is?”

Truth was, Aelin didn’t get that much annoyed when people would question her dating hiatus. She’d usually just wait until their speech was over and let it go. But for some reason, all those speeches she shrugged off for months were coming back to haunt her during this vacation. Did she give up too soon? Was she wasting her youth on this? Having her celibacy questioned by Rowan struck a nerve, Aelin just had to find out why.

“Sometimes people are so focused on what’s happening directly to them, they forget to look around for better options.”

Her mouth opened and closed before she found the words “I did look around! The view was terrible.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Rowan tried to rephrase it. “I was actually telling you to consider possibilities you haven’t thought of before.”

“You’re telling me to try girls?” Her mouth fell open. It wasn’t a bad idea, she just wasn’t expecting that suggestion.

Looking tired from trying to explain himself, Rowan sighed. “When’s your hiatus ending?”

“On March 3rd.”

He sipped his wine. “Noted.”

Aelin blinked. “What?”

She would not think too much on this. She would not think about this while holding him tonight.

He leaned back on his seat and shrugged. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

˜˜

Rowan was motionless, staring at the car like he was reading its soul. Or like someone had just dropped the keys in the river and he stood there, watching it fall into the bottom. Considering it was Rowan, any other thing would make it easier to drive than the situation they were currently in.

Drunk.

Actually, they weren’t drunk. Tipsy sounds more fitting. Maybe somewhere between these two?

Aelin checked her watch. There was still time to catch a train. Maeve’s house had a really difficult access, though, so she’d need someone to pick them up at the station.

“I’m calling Sellene,” Aelin broke the silence.

That was enough to make Rowan fall out of his trance. “Absolutely not!” He ran a hand through his head. “She’ll mock us to death.”

Aelin’s smile was so big she could swear the corners of Rowan’s mouth tilted up. “She’ll mock you to death! Sel loves me.”

Sellene answered the phone before Rowan could make an argument out of this.

“What the fuck are you two still doing downtown?” Her friend’s voice boomed before anyone could even say hello.

“Honey, langua— oh, hi, Aelin!” Uncle Ellys showed up smiling behind Sellene.

Aelin quickly explained their drunken situation and asked her to pick them up at the train station closest to the family’s house, and Rowan stayed curiously silent the whole time. It probably had something to do with the mischievous glint that grew in Sellene’s eyes every sentence, which reached its peak when Uncle Ellys furrowed his eyebrows and suggested, “Why don’t you two stay at a hotel and drive back in the morning? That way no one needs to get the car back on Yulemas Eve.”

Sel’s smile was so big she looked like a maniac. “That’s a great idea, dad!”

The little bitch.

She knew damn well Aelin wasn’t actually dating Rowan.

This was going to be so awkward.

Rowan cleared his throat. “I’m not sure this is a good—“

“I think it’s perfect, Ro.”

He continued, glaring this time. “I didn’t bring anything to spend the night. I have no clothes, no toiletries—“

“Good to know we’ve got it settled then!” Unaffected, Sellene’s grin was so smug it was annoying. “If it isn’t my favorite couple.”

Ellys frowned. “I thought it was Marceline and Princess Bubblegum, Dear.”

“I guess you’re right.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, bye!” Sellene sing-sang.

”Sellene, don’t—“ Rowan shouted, but it was too late.

She had already hung up on them.

Rowan sighed, and Aelin pocketed her phone, leaning her back in the car to think. They were already sharing a bed anyway, staying at a hotel for the night wouldn’t be that bad. It’d be almost the same, right?

Rowan didn’t think so, apparently.

“I’m gonna try my parents,” he finally said.

“Okay.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“But don’t you think it’s weird?” Aelin said before he hit the call button.

His thumb hovered above the screen for a moment, then he carefully asked, “What would be weird?”

“Refusing to spend the night away. We’re supposed to be dating, remember?”

He locked his phone and leaned on the car as well, arms crossed. “I’d never spend the night with my girlfriend without clean clothes and a toothbrush.”

“The only one you’d need out of those two is very easy to buy,” she snickered. “Besides, you can’t ask your mom to rescue you. You should be flattered for the opportunity to spend the night with me.”

“I am.”

The yellow streetlights didn’t help, but Aelin could see Rowan’s cheeks turning a shade pinker. Cute, she marveled.

“Besides,” he continued, “We usually need all hands on deck during Yulemas Eve. I’ll waste too much time coming back here tomorrow to get the car.”

She tilted her head. “It’ll be a nuisance.”

“A big one.”

Aelin grinned. “And we can’t let that happen.”

He shook his head, lips tugging up. “Absolutely not.”

“So which hotel are we picking?”

“The closest one.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Oh. Sure.”

Rowan was a practical person. Of course he’d pick the closest one. And there was no reason for her to hope for another hotel, since this decision had been purely practical.

Something about her expression gave her away. He bumped her shoulder. “I’m open to suggestions, though.”

“I don’t have suggestions, I’ve never been here.” She bumped his shoulder back. “I just thought we were choosing together, that’s all.”

He raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to continue.

“For example, I like it when they have those huge breakfast buffets. With…” she shrugged, a playful grin forming on her lips. “Bread, fruit, yoghurt…”

Rowan crossed his arms, smiling. “Only bread, fruit and yoghurt?”

His teasing hadn’t been that funny, but Aelin cackled anyway. “Well, I’m not gonna complain if they also happen to have cake and chocolate croissant.”

“Okay…” he focused on his phone for a moment, the corners of his lips still crinkling with amusement, then guided them forward by placing a hand on her back. “Google Maps tells me there’s a store close by, and you can tell me what kind of hotels you like while I buy some toiletries to survive the night.”

The small shopping became a little more, and that’s how they ended up in a hotel room’s balcony, a plastic bag with the essentials waiting inside while they ate hot dogs and shared a bottle of wine, no glasses. They blamed this second dinner on the fancy restaurant with miniature portions, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“This hot dog is so much better than the ones I make.”

Rowan held a finger up, asking for a moment while he finished this bite, and asked, “You cook?”

A smirk just for him. “I don’t. That’s why this is better.”

They both chuckled, Rowan’s eyes glinting while he looked at her in such a way that made her question if tonight’s food was upsetting her stomach. She looked away. “I had to learn for Sellene’s birthday, though.”

“That’s right.” He straightened his posture, recognition in his eyes. “You were so busy, I forgot you were in charge of the food too.”

“I was in charge of everything after Sel’s third beer.” She rolled her eyes playfully. Sellene was such a traitorous bitch. Aelin loved her to death. “That’s why I didn’t pay much attention to the guests, I think.”

Also because she was dating Chaol at the time. But dear Mala, it felt like a waste not properly meeting Rowan that day. The longer she got to know him, the strongest she felt about that party and the 11 months that followed suit.

He chugged wine for the longest time that night before he said, “I had intentions of making myself known once you were free.”

Aelin was too distracted by his mouth on that bottle, but her heart stopped when it finally clicked.

“Really?” She looked deep into his eyes, looking for an answer that went beyond his words.

He nodded. “Really.”

She took the bottle from his hand. It was her time to have some wine.

“It would’ve been nice.”

He didn’t need to answer that. And they both also knew what stopped him that day: Aelin’s boyfriend arriving mid-party.

Still, there was no controlling that bubbly, sparkly feeling inside her that only grew the more she thought about that.

Rowan was ready to hit on her when they first met. Isn’t that the most romantic thing?

For some reason, this time Aelin didn’t feel like shying away from whatever was happening. Just let herself feel, even though she was trying really hard to understand those feelings. She didn’t know how to continue this conversation, though.

“I thought I’d never face a hot dog after Sellene’s birthday party,” she added between bites. The amount of research and preparation Aelin did for that night was crazy. She never knew there’s so much to the art of hot dogs.

“They were a little traumatizing, yes.”

“That’s not what I meant!” She chided in mock offense while handing the bottle to that rude fake boyfriend of hers.

“I’m letting you blame the sausage’s bad quality if you want.”

“I don’t know…” Aelin leaned back on her chair. Her research included which ingredients to buy, it’d end up being her fault too. “I kinda became a sausage specialist for that party—“

She was interrupted by the blaring sound of Rowan gagging and heaving. He had a shocked look on his face, widened eyes aimed at her while he clutched the base of his neck. There was a little wine running down his nose and mouth, and that was probably from the choking.

Aelin dropped her things and started gently stroking his shoulders, even though she knew this wouldn’t actually help. She was somewhere between wanting to soothe him and feeling a little embarrassed after accidentaly making a sexual innuendo so bad Rowan almost choked to death. Literally. Would it be selfish to hope his choking didn’t let him notice the flush on her cheeks?

“That’s embarrassing,” he said a few moments later.

Aelin had already a tissue on her hand when she replied, “You know, you look kinda cute with a wine mustache.”

He snorted, and that little gush of air directly on her fingers weirdly sent goosebumps—

No.

This was supposed to be just about Aelin’s imagination running wild because of Rowan’s irresistibleness. There was no way she…

Aelin removed her hand and gazed at at Rowan. His straight nose and cheekbones had a natural glow from the moonlight. His eyes were gleaming while he looked back at her, and something told her it couldn’t be due to any Yulemas lights that twinkled around them. Mistward was beautiful today, but not nearly as much as that reserved man who had fire in his eyes when he looked at her.

There were so many things she felt like doing while looking at him, but at the same time she didn’t want to change anything at all. Aelin wanted to be in this exact moment forever. With him.

Wine out his nose and all.

Something dawned on her, and Aelin’s eyes widened with the realization.

“Oh my God,” she blurted, her eyes slowly searching his.

“What?” Rowan was still a little hazy.

When their gaze finally settled on each other’s, she quietly confided, “I think I like you.”

Aelin would do everything in her possession to never forget how his face slowly lit up as he processed what she’d said, his confused expression giving away space for him to show her a blinding smile.

He didn’t say anything, though.

At first he just cradled her face, tender strokes on her jaw making her head tilt up while he seemed lost somewhere between her eyes and her lips.

Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

She could see his tongue‘s quickly appear between his lips, wetting them as their faces slowly came together.

Way too slowly.

Impatient, Aelin cradled his face with both hands and closed the distance at once, pressing their lips together. And as soon as she initiated it, his touch seemed as urgent as hers.

Rowan’s hands roamed through her face, neck, shoulders, until they found her waist and pulled her as close as one physically could, making her fall on his lap. With her neck in his mouth’s direction, Rowan decided to take advantage of that. He pecked, licked and sucked that patch of skin until Aelin was writhing on his thigh, silently begging him for something. Even she didn’t know exactly what.

When Rowan started dragging his teeth along her pulse point with a heavenly amount of pressure, Aelin held his shoulders with both hands, adjusting herself just enough to feel his shaft below her thigh.

He groaned. “We don’t have to.”

His voice was so pained it almost sounded comical. It would be, if Aelin wasn’t as excited as he was.

She pulled his hair, making Rowan’s neck arch towards her. He stared at her with parted lips, a mist of hunger and surrender in his eyes.

“I need to.” Aelin wriggled her hips, pressing against him and making him swallow hard.

He started playing with the hem of her dress, and it took a pointed look for her to process that he was still asking for permission.

“Please.”

Rowan sneaked his hands below her dress until both of his hands were full with her ass, and tugged her towards him hard enough to leave a mark.

And that was when their control snapped.

It became a blur of sinful caresses and bruising, urgent kisses until Rowan picked her up. The six steps from the balcony to the bed were the longest of her life.

Between kisses, he began to fumble with her dress. “What’s up with girls and their difficult clothes?”

“Three ties isn’t too much.” She wasn’t even wearing a bra. Aelin laughed, but it was a bit strained.

“They’re obstacles. It’s annoying,” he said while undoing the straps on her shoulders. And frowned. Aelin bit back her laughter while she turned around, showing the last string on her back. “Too much,” he grunted while untying it.

The feel of those thin strands falling on her back left a trail of goosebumps, or maybe it was just the effect of Rowan’s hands on her, along with the anticipation of what was to come.

She mentioned to turn around, but Rowan’s hands had her pinned, laying on her stomach. He gently brushed her long hair aside and kissed her shoulders and back downwards. He brushed his teeth through Aelin’s ass, biting it softly. Her breath hitched, her hips arching his way.

However, Rowan took her panties off, turned her around and started kissing her inner thigh. When Aelin realized where he was headed, she was already whimpering. He was all teasing kisses and warming her up at first, so she wasn’t expecting it when Rowan pressed his tongue against her clit with the perfect amount of pressure, making her cry out and arch her hips. He didn’t mind her pressing herself against his face, though. Not by the way he grabbed her hips hard enough to bruise and kept her there.

The mix of Rowan’s tongue on her clit, his stubble rubbing against her slit and his hands practically squeezing her hips was going to be the death of her. Aelin was panting with shaky legs, moaning his name. Bursting from the inside out, she was seeing stars every time he applied a bit more pressure.

“Ro, I’m so close.”

He just hummed, not ready to get his mouth off her, and plunged two fingers inside her without further notice.

Aelin screamed.

She shattered completely, becoming nothing more than a mess of limbs, holding every piece of the bed sheet she could and squeezing Rowan’s head between her thighs while waves of pleasure ripped through her.

Rowan was above her in a second, kissing her gently. “You okay?”

“That’s really hard to answer right now,” she answered, panting.

He chuckled, seeming a little wrecked as well. “Wanna stop?”

“Fuck, no.”

She pulled him by the hair for another kiss and began to fumble with his pants. Impatient, Rowan rose to pull out his clothes for once and-

Fuck.

Aelin had always thought Rowan looked as gorgeous as one of those ripped guys from ancient statues, but it wasn’t true. His penis was too big for him to be one of them. What a shame. Actually, not a shame at all for Aelin.

Rowan was staring at her, naked with a condom on his hand, his mouth hanging open somewhere between amused and incredulous.

Wait, did she say that out loud?

To avoid further comment, she kneeled on the bed and wrapped her arms around Rowan, kissing him slowly until he melted into her touch. Without breaking the kiss, Aelin started working on his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

When they laid back on the bed, she had never seen a guy put a condom on so fast. To be fair, Aelin was pretty much the same, guiding him towards her entrance as soon as possible.

They started slow, holding on to each other while Rowan pushed into her.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped against her ear as he bottomed her out.

Aelin moaned, wiggling her hips in a silent plea for him to move inside her, which he quickly obliged.

She moaned and marked his back with her nails as he thrusted in with an intense pace. They were completely lost in each other. Moaning, whispering sweet nothings, kissing wherever their mouths could reach. Aelin wrapped her legs around him and her muscles tightened, making him suck in a sharp breath and lose composure.

“Are you close?”

Her affirmative answer sounded a lot like a whimper, but he got the message.

Letting out a shaky breath, that chase made him lose the rhythm they previously found, but Rowan sneaked a hand between their bodies and pressed this thumb to Aelin’s clit.

The grip she had on his shoulders tightened. “Fuck, Ro.”

Her breath shattered when she came to the peak of that crescendo, and he seemed just as intoxicated. It was like Rowan was lighting her on fire, and every explosion was a reason for her to call his name. When the feeling of his thumb on her swollen clit and his cock hitting that spot was too much, Aelin’s hips started to tremble and she came undone in his arms, Rowan’s name on her lips the whole time.

Being pushed over the edge as well, Rowan’s hips stuttered and his whole body tensed, right before he seemed to dissolve above her.

He crashed on her side and gave gentle pecks on her face after disposing the condom, both of them still recomposing themselves.

Staring at the ceiling, Aelin was trying to figure if this was because she hadn’t had sex for almost a year, or if Rowan was just that good. She needed to try again to be certain.

He turned to her and cradled Aelin in his arms, giving her a peck in the forehead. Rowan studied her face, looking for something until she looked up at him, her uncertain face slowly giving space to a shy grin.

Aelin adjusted herself on his arms and let him lazily caress her body.

She always suspected sex with Rowan would be good, but dear Mala. It was almost too much, his cock and tongue and fingers wearing her out until she combusted so much she felt she could die in that bed. Well, if Aelin really thought of it, those orgasms were well deserved. She needed them, since she didn’t have her sleeping pills right now. Should she thank Santa? It was probably Yulemas Eve by now.

Aelin let out a happy sigh and Rowan affectionately squeezed her, resting his face on the crown of her head.

She mentally sent Santa a thumbs up, not caring that he doesn’t actually exist or that Rowan didn’t like him as a kid.

~~

There were hands brushing her hair back and stroking her arms.

What a nuisance.

Aelin rolled over to the other side of the bed, trying to fall back into that deep slumber she was in.

The mattress dipped beside her, and the covers Aelin had just placed covering her face were gently pushed aside.

It was going to be one of those days, then.

“I sneaked out some mini chocolate croissant for you.”

Interesting.

“I’m awake,” she mumbled.

Chuckling, Rowan continued to run his fingers through her hair when she sat on the bed, eyes still closed. Aelin leaned into his touch. For Mala’s sake, did that man know how to touch her everywhere?

His fingers brushed against her lower lip. “Want some?”

When Aelin closed her mouth with the mini croissant Rowan put there, it was a delicious explosion of butter, chocolate and that delicious crackling crust flooding her senses. Her shoulders dropped and she moaned, overwhelmed by pastry heaven.

Rowan’s hand on her hair stilled, so Aelin finally had reason enough to open her eyes. How dare he stop? Aelin rubbed her eyes and cracked them open to complain, only to see Rowan staring at her with darkened eyes and parted lips.

Well, that was one look to wake her up with. Smirking, she let her covers drop just a little. Just to tease him, since he knew damn well she had nothing underneath.

Before she could think, Rowan was face to face with her on the bed. “You know, we have a few hours between breakfast and check-out time.” He dropped kisses on her jaw and neck, a sweet invite to continue last night’s activity.

Aelin started looking for her clothes on the floor, but she found them folded on the chair. So organized. Her boyfri-

Oh, fuck.

They needed to talk, didn’t they?

Aelin grabbed her things and locked herself in the bathroom. Her mind was going a mile a minute.

During her shower, she wondered about the broken promise of her year-long celibacy. Well, being tore apart by Rowan was much cooler than that. But what was supposed to happen now?

Aelin stared at herself in the mirror while she brushed her teeth. Was it a one-time thing? She’d stay with his family for at least one more week, would she manage to stay away from him? Would she want to stay away from him? No probably not.

God, her hair was a mess. And she didn’t have enough supplies to make her effortful effortless makeup look. Aelin sighed. Maybe she’d just start the conversation and see what Rowan’s expectations were. He didn’t seem like the guy who would run away from something remotely serious and dread becoming more, but still. Also, he knew damn well she’d had enough of this type of guy for a lifetime already. It’s not like Aelin was looking for a husband, for Mala’s sake, some reliable company or even something casually serious would be just fine.

Out of the bathroom, Rowan was on the bed with his phone, while her own was on a charger he borrowed from reception. He looked up at her, and Aelin’s heart melted with the fond look in his eyes.

“I want to talk about last night.”

Rowan put his phone down. “What about it?”

“Well…” she began tracing circles on the mattress with her finger, trying to think of a good way to start. “It changes things, don’t you think?”

“I don’t see why we should change anything.”

Aelin held on a sigh. Of course. Flashbacks from every reason why she started a dating hiatus popped in her mind, except this one was worse because she already has feelings—

“I mean,” he continued, “We already agreed on dating, right?”

Her heart stopped. What?

“No, we agreed on fake dating,” she carefully explained. “Now we’re redefining things, but it seems like we’re fake dating with benefits.”

“What’s the difference between dating and fake dating with benefits?”

God, she wished she had the simple mind of a man. After explaining everything in detail, Rowan seemed just as lost.

“Sounds the same to me. I’ll just keep calling you my girlfriend.” He scratched the back of his neck. “If that’s okay with you?”

It was perfect, actually. Aelin’s smile was so wide it was an answer on itself. “We’re dating, then?”

“We were always dating.”

“Absolutely not!”

“I introduced you to my parents and told them you’re my girlfriend. That’s dating to me.”

Aelin shook her head. Because they were fake dating, but Rowan didn’t have basic trope knowledge. “But we weren’t getting physical!”

Rowan crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. “Yet.”

She mirrored his posture, eyebrows raised. “Is that so?”

“I had big plans of seducing you after your dating hiatus.”

Aelin’s jaw dropped, but it quickly became a huge grin. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. “And what did these plans entail?”

He turned her around and guided her towards the door with both hands gripping her waist. “I’ll show you after breakfast,” he whispered on her ear by the time her hand reached the doorknob.

Well, that was some surprising plot twist in her celibate year.

Aelin was still quite sure love is an unreliable bitch.

However, things were looking really good for her this time.

A/N: If you got to this point, thank you for reading and not giving up on my writing after I kinda disappeared for a while! Specially for reading a holiday fic mid-March lol. So uncool of me. I’m a little embarrassed about that, if you can’t tell. Ha. Let’s hope next time I finish at least before I take the decorations down, huh?

TAG LIST

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@dreamer-133

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[shadowkoo]

mini requests

open | CLOSED

Hi! I'm opening my requests for the first time in nearly three years! I'm hoping by doing this sort of drabble game / mini fic requests that I can ease my way back into writing after my long hiatus. If you are interested in sending in a request, please continue reading for all the details. Thank you!

Rules + Requirements :

Follow me (if you are not already)

Reblog this post (boosts are appreciated)

Must be 18+ (minors please dni)

To Request:

Choose a group & member (1 only please)

Pick a genre (max of 3)

Select a prompt (max of 2)

Visit my askbox and use a similar format like this: "Can I request Taehyung (BTS) fluff, smut, and coworkers au with prompt #4"

*please make sure that you include the group in parenthesis after stating which member you're requesting

Groups + Members:

BTS - Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook

EXO - Kai, Baekhyun, Sehun, Chanyeol, Chen, Suho, Kyungsoo, Xiumin, Lay

NCT - Taeyong, Taeil, Johnny, Yuta, Jaehyun, Doyoung, Ten, Winwin, Kun, Jungwoo, Mark, Xiaojun, Hendery, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Yangyang, Jisung

SVT - Vernon, Mingyu, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Minghao, Woozi, Joshua, Hoshi, Junhui, Seokmin, Seungcheol

GOT7 - Jinyoung, Jackson, Bam, Yugyeom, Mark, Jaebeom, Youngjae

ATEEZ - Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho

MONSTA X - Shownu, Minhyuk, Kihyun, Hyungwon, Jooheon, Changkyun

STRAY KIDS - Bang Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

Genres + AUs:

Fluff

Smut

Angst

Enemies to lovers

Friends to lovers

Friends with benefits

Roommates

College

Coworkers

Meet Cute

Meet Ugly

Athlete (you may specify in your request)

Exes

Idol

*idol au means that they will be depicted as their real identities (as actual kpop idols & famous celebrities)

Prompts:

"Don't look at me like that. You know what that does to me."

"I wish I never met you."

"It's your lucky day."

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"I can't stop thinking about you."

"Open your mouth."

"Why do you even care?"

"You're more important than you think."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Please leave."

"That's my final answer."

"Did you see that?" "See what?"

"What do you want from me?"

"God, you look so fucking good."

"You're unbelievable."

"Isn't that your mom?"

"I swear I've seen your face somewhere before."

"You're such a tease."

"Don't you dare lie to me."

"Who are the flowers for?"

"Don't forget that we're in public, baby."

"Are you scared? You should be."

"Please say something. Anything."

"Do you forgive me?"

"You forgot."

"You're crazy and I like it."

"Where are you taking me?"

"I think I'm in love with you."

"I need you. Now."

"What did you say?"

"Did you miss me?"

"I dare you."

"I bought you something."

"Is it supposed to taste like that?"

"Ew. Why does it look like that?"

"Baby are you close?" "No but the Uber is."

"How many doughnuts can I stack on it?"

"This is why no one likes you."

"Put your dick away, this is a Lowe's."

"Stop yelling at me!" "You’re panicking, you’ll crash the car." "It’s not everyday a demon crawls out of your trunk!"

"Who the fuck did I marry?"

This is the fifth letter you will write to them, and it will not be the last.

Six days after they left, the ticking behind the wall began.

A mob boss with a black eye and a jagged scar over his wrist sits alone in a dingy motel room. The kitten stares at him affectionately, oblivious to the danger they both are in. Oblivious to the mess it caused.

It happened concurrently, and so quickly. The moon started getting closer and brighter in the sky, and you started hearing them in the radio static.

With a palpable fury, the demon turns to you, ignoring the rubble of your kitchen, and sneers. "How did you summon me? You've pulled me out of chains centuries old." Frantically, you skim through your cookbook. "I don't know! I was trying to make soup!"

They held out a hand, an echo of the melody playing from their fingertips. "The world seems to dance to your tune," they spoke, their voice a captivating blend of amusement and intrigue. The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken questions.

Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently.

Chills creep down your spine as you peek through the cracked doorway. You're not supposed to be witnessing this. They'll kill you if they find out.

Free Space - send in your own prompt! Please keep it relatively short!

Disclaimers:

Not every request may be fulfilled, it is up to my discretion.

Word count may vary between requests (300 to 3k, etc.).

Unless requested otherwise, all fics will be written as female reader insert.

Please refer to the top of the original post to know whether requests are open or closed (reblogs may show something different).

Things I will NOT write: suicide, self-harm, animal abuse, underage sex, pedophilia, incest, vore, rape, non-consensual, or dubious sex.

[nancywheelersgirlfriend]

Fake dating AU- set slightly in the future Johnathan comes back to Hawkins with a new girlfriend and desperate to prove she’s moved on also Nancy asks Robin to fake date her. (Ronance happy ending)

thanks for the prompt! i hope you enjoy :) i think i might flesh this one out more. maybe you'll see that pop up around november, i had too many ideas to stuff into this oneshot :D but hopefully the length makes up for the weight

them there eyes (5,507 words)

If Nancy had been better prepared, perhaps this whole mess would’ve never had the room to start up in the first place. All she needed was a phone call or two from El in casual explanation - a thirty second debriefing her ex-boyfriend’s exploits and current local. However, the phone calls from El, while frequent and enjoyable, rarely included any information about Jonathan. Whether that was specifically for Nancy’s benefit, she didn’t truly know. 

All this to say that she was now, twenty-three and home for Thanksgiving, stood in the center of the soup aisle at Hawkins’ local grocery store completely dumbfounded. Not because of the soup, mind you. 

But because Jonathan Byers and a girl - a human female - who Nancy had never seen before (sure she would’ve recognized her if she’d gone to their high school, their graduating class size was in the double digits) were also in the soup aisle. Sharing both a cart and a smile. She passed him a can of tomato soup and he, after ducking underneath his permanent fringe like an adolescent, pressed a kiss to her cheek quickly in thanks. 

Nancy knew, vaguely, that she was staring. But something about the image rooted her to the spot. She wasn’t sure which was the most disturbing aspect. One: that Jonathan, arguably the first true love of her life, had been able to move on so exponentially that he was grocery shopping with somebody else. Or two: that she, the other half of Hawkins’ weirdest couple, was currently shacking up in her parents’ basement with negative romantic prospects. 

She tried to recall the last true date she’d been on, scaling back all the way to the past February before she found a good example. It’d been horrific - he, in the name of feminism, had tried to get her to pay the whole bill. Not that she would’ve minded paying for half. That was understandable. But the whole bill? And he’d gotten a sirloin. She wasn’t made of money. She was a journalist - she ate ramen for dinner the majority of the time, if that.

Her mother, ever the hen, had practically forced her out the house door to run errands. She claimed it was a ‘nice day’ and Nancy should ‘get some fresh air’. It was pouring outside, absolutely storming. Nancy could hear it on the roof of the grocery store. But she supposed her mother had a point - she hadn’t gone outside since she’d gotten there three days before, content to bury herself underneath the household’s excess store of fuzzy blankets and slowly wade through the childhood VHS tapes collecting dust down beneath El’s old tent. 

Had Karen Wheeler realized the abject horror she’d be subjecting her daughter to when she’d forced her out of the house that morning? Surely not. She never would have betrayed her like this.

Nancy continued to watch open-mouthed as the girl (who, by the way, was stunning) whispered something in Jonathan’s concealed ear. His face turned a shocking shade of red at whatever she had said. He glanced back towards the end of the aisle with a little nervous laugh, one that had Nancy’s stomach twisting up into her ribcage. She could remember making him laugh like that many times.

She knew she should just be an adult about this and walk away from the aisle. Nobody didn’t need Italian Wedding that badly. Besides, Nancy had a college degree. She was going places. She would be moving to New York City after this brief hiatus at home, making big bucks and traveling the world to report on its innumerable atrocities. Give it an hour and Jonathan Byers would once again be lingering only in the very corner of her mind, some distant ghost she forgot to remember most of the time.

And yet she stayed rooted to the spot. How had he, arguably the most emotionally unavailable man she’d ever known, gotten into a relationship that made him this happy? Made him so comfortable with PDA, when he’d shrugged off Nancy’s hands in high school more times than she could remember? It was absurd; impossible. She blinked once, twice, just to make sure this wasn’t some sort of putrid nightmare she’d stepped her way into. As she did so, her mind gifted her the wonderful possibility of that shared cart having a baby in it. A baby with a bowl cut.

She’d throw up. She’d leave town without notice, or do something drastic like shave her head. Change her name and move to Alaska, turning that journalism degree into firewood and using her hands for ice-fishing. Jonathan Byers is in love, in love with somebody other than her.

God, she was selfish, wasn’t she? Even as she acknowledged this, the jealous feeling continued to blossom.

“Nance?” Oh my god, this was worse. So, so much worse. Jonathan was talking to her. “Nancy Wheeler?”

“Hi, Jon,” She said, grimacing on the way to a smile. She was shocked she managed to speak at all, as opposed to much more viable option of projectile vomiting all over the red Campbell labels.

“Jesus,” He replied breathlessly - and why was he smiling? He was smiling like this was something pleasant. Jonathan ran a hand through his mop of hair, still slightly bowlish despite his grown age, and stepped forward to clasp their palms together. She was surprised he couldn’t feel her shaking as he did so. 

Their breakup hadn’t been…bad, per say. Okay, well, actually it’d been horrific. Lots of shouting. Crying. The whole nine yards. He’d come clean in August about the college lie. She lost all trust in him. They attempted to do long distance again but without that trust - that communication - they fell apart. His passion for photography reignited and he was off to Europe that spring. She came inches away from kissing another girl at a college party and felt more in the pit of her stomach than she ever had with him. They broke up over the phone and then again in person; to make it more real, she supposed. Or more movie-like, maybe. 

That’d been four years ago now. During that hiatus, she hadn’t seen him anywhere besides the annual Byers family Christmas card - because, of course, when one set of Byer/Wheeler siblings broke it off another rose from its ashes. Will and Mike were grossly in love, to the point of applying to all the same colleges and sharing a dorm under the guise of their infamous ‘best friend’ status. Due to their impending forever love, Nancy had known for a while she’d end up seeing Jonathan and his pasty little face at least one more time in her life.

She had no idea what to say in response to him. Her mouth was simultaneously dryer than the desert and so wet she could hardly speak through the gathering spit.

“How’ve you been?” She finally settled on. The woman, who’d been lingering at the cart, stepped up to bump Jonathan’s shoulder. Despite all of Nancy’s quickly heightening expectations, her eyes weren’t mean. They were the opposite, actually, which made things a little more difficult for Nancy. 

It would’ve been much easier if she was hateable. But this girl looked positively wonderful. Perfectly put together. Everything Nancy wasn’t and never could be. As she and Jonathan’s hands disconnected, Nancy couldn’t help but glance at his palm to double-check his scar had stayed. At least a part of him was still marred by her, even only physically. She couldn’t say she’d been able to recover in the same way.

“Great,” He replied. It was so genuine it hurt. His toothy grin was like a bullet to the heart. “Just great. Oh! This is Bianca, by the way. My fiancee.”

Oh god, even worse! His fiancee. Jonathan Byers, who’d gotten up on his soapbox  every time Nancy so much as casually suggested the pipedream of living together someday. That Jonathan Byers was engaged. Bianca smiled and it took everything in Nancy not to scream in pure horror. They shook hands.

“Nice to meet you,” Nancy said. It sounded as though she were speaking under water. Somehow Bianca’s beautiful smile only grew. Beneath her unruly bangs of black curl, her eyes were warm and brown. Nancy recognized those easily enough - Jonathan had a type, she concluded.

“Jon’s told me about you! You’re a journalist, right?” Bianca asked, practically forcing the words out through the gaps between her teeth. Nancy tried to hate her. She really tried. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy nodded, wiping her newly sweaty palm down the front of her pant leg. “I mean, I’m going to be. I’ve got a starter job at the AP office in New York City - I’m moving there after the new year.”

“Oh, excellent!” Bianca sounded completely genuine. 

“What do you do?” Nancy asked, if only to fill up space in the air. She had to admit, she really wanted to know. Model, maybe? Garbageman? Bianca was a complete mystery. And, apparently, so was Jonathan.

“I’m a teacher,” Bianca replied. “Kindergarten.”

“At Hawkins Elementary?” Jonathan and Bianca shared one of those hearty laughs only people in love can have. Nancy was incredibly jealous.

“No, no, we live in New York City,” Bianca corrected. “We’re only here for Thanksgiving, since this is where Jon’s family is. Christmas we’re spending with my parents.” Nancy resisted the urge to bite out a snarky did I ask? and instead nodded pleasantly.

“Maybe I’ll see you in the city, then,” Nancy said. Yeah, she’d rather cut out her tongue than have to spend five more minutes in their lovesick presence. 

“We should go out to dinner while we’re all here,” Jonathan suggested. She could’ve choked him out with her bare hands - right there in the middle of the grocery store. What had she done to deserve this strange and unusual punishment? 

Nancy swallowed tightly as Bianca said something in agreement. She imagined what that might look like: third-wheeling her ex-boyfriend and his new, perfect fiancee in her hometown. What a hellish experience.

So you can’t blame her for what she said next. It would be like blaming a deer for getting itself hit by a car, or a bird for crashing into a window - a better solution required too much forethought for Nancy to handle. She rushed forward with the only thing she could think of, regretting the words even as they were coming out of her mouth.

“I’ll have to see when my girlfriend’s free.” Jonathan’s face stayed politely neutral. Bianca’s eyebrows went up into her bangs, but to her credit she looked more distantly delighted than disgusted.

“Sure!” Bianca was quick to reassure, the tone half of people tended to whenever Nancy came out. As if she truly cared about Bianca’s opinion of who she did and did not have sex with. “Sure, yeah. Let’s set a tentative Thursday date, hm? And you can ask her about it and then phone up the Byers’ place - we’re staying in their guest room.”

“Who’s your girlfriend, Nance?” Jonathan asked. He just didn’t know when to quit, did he? She couldn’t help but grit her teeth together, the smile becoming more a snarl every second that passed.

“You do, actually.” She racked her brain for potential women: considering, just for a moment, how funny it would be to bring El to the sham of a double date. But the only girl Nancy could really consider (or, though she didn’t admit this to herself, the only girl she wanted to consider) was Robin.

Robin, who was as much as Nancy’s other half as she’d been that final summer before everything ended. Her freshman roommate had gotten absolutely sick of Nancy writing pages of letter early into the night, shipped off first to Indiana and then, when Robin moved overseas for a few years, to Paris. This past summer Nancy had flown out to visit her. They’d shared a bed for the first time since August 1987, legs tangled together and words carefully unspoken. Those early mornings by the Seine, so close and yet so far, kept her up at night more often than not. They hadn’t really spoken much since that summer, too busy to reach out…

Still, if Nancy could recruit anybody to play pretend, it would be Robin. 

“It’s Robin,” Nancy said, effectively sealing the deal. Jonathan clapped her on the shoulder, an action that sent her nearly leaping across the aisle. 

“I should’ve guessed,” Jonathan said. “You guys have been dancing around each other for years.” Nancy recovered from her shock at his casual touch to frown at that particular comment. What the hell did he mean by that? 

“Yeah,” She said aloud, because what else was there to say? Inside, however, her mind was on the verge of exploding. The fiancee was plenty to distress about, but now - apparently  - Jonathan thought she and Robin had something. Something actually palpable. So real even he could see it with his aforementioned emotional immaturity. She decided to shake it off. Jonathan Byers was a fool. He always had been, even in his best moments. Nancy just continued to smile, pretending to pay attention and instead deliberating on how she’d be breaking the news to Robin. Because Robin needed to agree. How embarrassing would that be if she didn’t?

“What are you doing on Thursday?” 

“I’ll have to check my calendar - I’ve got a long going on. A lot of friends that I definitely have.”

“My apologizes to the big Hollywood writer.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Robin’s grin was audible and it made Nancy’s stomach twist itself into a permanent knot. “What’d you have in mind?”

“I’m gonna ask you for a big favor,” Nancy began, unsure where to start otherwise. 

“If it involves the Upside-Down, it’s a no-go.” Nancy laughed despite herself. It felt like Robin was always getting her to do that.

“It’s worse. It’s dinner with Jonathan and his fiancee.” Best to rip the bandaid off. Silence on the other line.

And then Robin burst into laughter so loud it cut out halfway through. Nancy bit back a sigh and leaned against her peeling kitchen wall, shutting her eyes as if Robin were right in front of her instead of on the opposite end of town, mooching off her own parents.

“How the hell did you swing that?”

“I ran into them at the grocery store.”

“You poor thing.”

“So you’ll do it?” Nancy asked, taking on a hopeful tone. Robin hummed a vague affirmative. “Because, uh. There’s another element to it.”

“You’re changing the rules after I already agreed?”

“I told them you were my girlfriend.” Another bout of silence, this one not nearly as pleasurable. Nancy had stunned Robin so much she couldn’t speak - it was highly uncharacteristic and deeply uncomfortable.

“Why?” Robin sounded almost hurt. Nancy’s heart dropped to the soles of her shoes. 

She knew it was silly to even consider a relationship with Robin in the first place. Not like she’d ever go after it - their friendship was too important, too necessary to breathe for Nancy to push. There had been some moments over the past few years, especially those brief pauses in Paris where Robin would turn and there’d be something on her face that made Nancy kickstart her heart. But she knew, really, it was in her head. And the implication that Robin, a constellation in the sky to Nancy’s shitty little telescope, would date her was not something Robin probably enjoyed.

“I freaked out,” Nancy admitted. “They were just so perfect, standing there buying soup together and smiling like freaks and wearing matching rings. I couldn’t take it.”

“It’s okay,” Robin said. The humor had returned to her voice. Maybe Nancy’d imagined the hurt. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“It’s so weird that you can drive now,” Nancy commented, laughing to release the iron fist around her heart. She could Robin’s responding giggle on the other line.

“Bye, Nance.”

“Bye,” Nancy murmured, standing there like a complete fool even after the only other voice on the phone was the dial tone, hands gripping the receiver like a lifeline. 

*

Thursday rolled around much faster than Nancy hoped it would. It felt like a death sentence looming over the first half of the week. She nearly sliced her finger clean off while cutting up an apple on Wednesday; she’d been too busy considering all the harrowing possibilities of how Robin would react to Nancy dropping down on one knee and proposing.

Either she was insane or Jonathan was right. She wasn’t sure which was worse. It felt terrible, getting hope from her ex-boyfriend. You guys have been dancing around each other for years. Was he right? Had they been? Was it obvious? More importantly: was it reciprocated?

Ugh. What a complete mess. Nancy flopped down into her father’s laz-e-boy, vacant for the first time since she’d been home, and tried to resist the urge to run away. The kitchen clock, a clunky little thing from the nearby Kmart, clicked with reckless abandon. 

“Shut up,” Nancy said to the huge and absolutely absurd fish tank her mother had installed beside the couch her sophomore year of college. “I know.” The goldfish gurgled something. Probably an insult. 

The doorbell rang out through the empty house like the slice of a guillotine. 

“Nancy?” Robin’s voice came muffled through the front door.

“Coming!” Nancy shouted in affirmative. She smoothed out the bottom of her skirt, shooting a quick glance over at the circular mirror in the foyer before swinging open the door with much more force than necessary.

There was both a pro and a con to Robin on her doorstep. Pro: Robin had dressed relatively formal, which was out-of-character for her. After a vague mention of Robin’s residency in Paris sent Bianca into a gushing spiral over French food, they’d decided on the only French restaurant in Hawkins; fairly fancy decor and subtle black tie included. Con: Robin looked absolutely breathtaking in pressed dress pants and a tight white shirt. Her slender body, all long and rigid limbs, seemed elegant in that outfit. She looked absolutely perfect and Nancy was going to die.

“We need to debrief,” Robin commanded, forgoing a hello and instead offering her elbow to Nancy with a familiar grin. Nancy furrowed her eyebrows in confusion - but took her arm nonetheless. 

“Debrief on what?” She locked the door behind her, allowed to be on the stoop for a mere five seconds before Robin was yanking the both of them as some two-headed monster. She tripped on the last step in the sidewalk and nearly went face first down on the cement. “Jesus, I’m wearing heels!”

“I realized on the drive over that we’ve got no proper story,” Robin started to explain. She was a speedracer in both speech and talk. Nancy had to jog to keep up, not wanting to go ragdoll in her arms. “How’d we get together? How long have we been dating? Are we gonna live together? Who takes out the trash? Who pays for the food? Are we going to buy a dog or a cat?”

“Do you seriously think Bianca’s gonna care if we’re cat people?” Nancy asked incredulously. Robin all but yanked open the passenger door, nearly wrenching it off the side of her shitty little Beetle. 

“These are important questions!” Robin snapped, rounding the hood of the car to hop into the driver seat. She started the car before Nancy had gotten both feet inside.

“Slow down, Rob,” Nancy admonished softly, reaching out a hand to cover up the gear shift before Robin could yank it and probably send them careening into her neighbor’s driveway. Robin looked up feverishly. Her face was a stark, intense pink. The sudden eye contact knocked all breath from Nancy’s lungs. She moved her hand over and up to caress Robin’s wrist comfortingly. “It’s okay. It’s Jon. Not that hard to impress.”

“I thought you wanted to prove you’ve got yourself together,” Robin pressed, eyebrows knitted. Nancy had no proper reply, because she did. She desperately did. She also (mainly) wanted to pretend, for a night, that Robin would even consider being her girlfriend. 

“You don’t need to kill yourself to do that,” Nancy said, half a joke and half serious. Robin glanced down at their connected skin, eyes unreadable. She laughed breathlessly and released Robin’s wrist, realizing too late she’d been caressing it for longer than necessary. For a moment it looked like Robin’s face had fallen - but maybe it was a trick of the light. She turned the key silently. As they were backing out of the driveway, Robin let out a heavy breath - it sounded like she’d been holding it for eons.

“We started dating in Paris,” Robin decided. “We’re moving to New York together.”

“Studio or one bedroom apartment?” Nancy asked. Robin hummed. 

“Studio, I like enclosed spaces,” She decided. Nancy nodded.

“One cat,” They said in unison, grinning goofily at each other in encouragement.

“It’s hairless,” Robin added.

“No way, those are expensive!” Nancy gasped.

“We’re together enough to afford a hairless cat,” Robin argued. “You the journalist and me the famous, wealthy poet.”

“Wealthy and poet don’t normally go together,” Nancy retorted.

“I’m a different breed,” Robin shrugged. “It’s a left here, right?” Nancy nodded. She flicked on her clicker absently.

“We switch off cooking dinner,” Nancy suggested.

“We have taco nights,” Robin added. “You cook the meat, I’m no good with that.”

“We share sweaters.”

“You wouldn’t fit in mine, they’re too big.”

“You’re not that much taller than me. I like big clothes, anyway.” Robin glanced over at Nancy in the passenger seat. Her face was lit up by the headlights of the car facing them. She looked positively angelic as she laughed. Nancy realized, not for the first time in her life, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life making Robin laugh like that.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Nancy had to physically hold down her mouth to keep her teeth from chattering together. For no reason in particular, Hawkins Main was much chillier than her empty col-de-sac. She was shivering before they even really stepped out of the car.

“I can see them inside,” Robin said, taking Nancy up by the elbow again and pulling her along on the sidewalk. “God, you’re freezing.”

“It’s just the early stage of hypothermia, it’ll be fine,” Nancy said. They stopped about five feet from the doorway of the restaurant. Through the foggy windows of the front she could see the black curls of Bianca and Jonathan’s mousy brown towards the back. She bet she’d have a six pack by the night of the night, judging by the way she was clenching her muscles just at the thought of conversation.

A heavy weight suddenly on her shoulders caused her to break her absent staring contest. She glanced back at Robin, who was now only in her sweater, floral white shirt, and dress pants.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Nancy said. Robin shrugged and shoved her hands into her pockets idly. She kicked at the dust on the sidewalk.

“I wanted to,” She said simply. “Wanna go in?” Nancy pulled the coat closer to her chest and, as they stepped through the tiny doorway into the restaurant, hid her blush behind a puffy sleeve.

“Nancy!” Bianca called out just as soon as they’d stepped in, as if she had some sort of radar beacon set to go off whenever Nancy entered her general vicinity. Nancy gritted her teeth and waved back. They maneuvered their way past the relatively crowded front to their tiny table in the back. Nancy sat across from Jon, Bianca from Robin. She laid the coat on the back of her chair as if it were something priceless.

“It’s cold out tonight, right?” Robin said amicably, rubbing her hands together. Under the table, the side of her flat knocked into Nancy’s heel. With her long legs she often had a difficult time finding room underneath tables. “I’m Robin, by the way.”

“Bianca,” Bianca waved. Her engagement ring glinted in the dim lighting. “And yes. It’s horrible. I grew up in California, I’m not made for this.”

“It’ll be worse on the East coast,” Nancy promised, not necessarily rude but not particularly nice. “I remember weeks like this at Emerson.” Robin’s foot knocked hers again. Nancy knocked back.

“I’m so excited to move to the city, though,” Bianca gushed. “I love New York. All the lights and the people.”

“You gotta walk fast,” Robin laughed. “But we’ll get used to it.” She covered Nancy’s foot with her own. 

“Are you moving with Nance in January?” Jonathan spoke up for the first time that evening, gesturing between the two of them. To Nancy’s extreme disappointment, he hardly looked bothered. In fact, he looked pleased. Happy for her, even. She couldn’t stand it.

“Yes!” Robin smiled at Nancy. She reached over to squeeze Nancy’s open palm, which was spread out on the tablecloth and waiting for her. Though she’d been anticipating it, the touch still left her heartbeat spiking. “I’m a writer, so I can really live anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t want to go anywhere without her,” Nancy replied, voice sickly sweet but words painfully true. Bianca smiled big and bright at her. She was beautiful and it hurt. She ached over it.

“Oh, sorry - here’s the menu,” She said suddenly, passing a menu over to Robin and Nancy’s connected hands. “Completely forgot!”

“It’s fine,” Robin promised. As Nancy held the menu up in front of their hands, neither dropped the handhold; even though nobody important was paying attention. “Escargot?”

“Soup,” Nancy corrected. “I’m cold.”

“We order both and share,” Robin suggested. “Just like we did in Paris.”

“I miss those mornings,” Nancy grinned distantly, eyes faraway and back in a place where she’d been desperately happy. “Breaking off baguette pieces.”

“A hearty breakfast,” Robin agreed. “Une pain.” Her French accent was heavy and exaggerated and, as it always did, made Nancy laugh.

The waiter came by then, some well-dressed teenager who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. It reminded Nancy of Robin and Steve at the video store, dull-eyed and joking, doing everything possible to never actually do their jobs.

“I’ll get the duck,” Bianca said sweetly. Jonathan gave the waiter an awkward, tight-lipped smiling in greeting.

“The rib-eye for me.”

“We’ll have the onion soup and the escargot,” Nancy ordered for the both of them, passing the menu back to the silent waiter. He nodded and removed himself swiftly.

“You order for her?” Bianca asked with an eyebrow raised, though her tone was teasing.

“We always end up eating each other’s food anyway,” Robin explained with a shrug. “So - Bianca - what do you do for work?” As she and Bianca launched into an in-depth conversation on the pros and cons of elementary teaching, Nancy sat back in her chair and realized just how easy this was. Pretending to be a couple felt like second nature; almost unspoken, in a way. She supposed they’d already crossed most of the lines.

Sharing food and clothing and holding hands. Vacationing together. Something began to dawn on Nancy that she’d never considered before. Robin caught her eye over the entrees a half hour later, in the middle of laughing over some stupid joke Jon had just told. It clicked. Nancy laughed back.

Outside the restaurant, the four gave their goodbyes. Nancy would no doubt be seeing the couple over for Thanksgiving anyway, but she still found herself getting Bianca a friendly hug before she left. The girl had grown on her - and anyway, a night with Robin would have her shaking the hand of terrorists.

As Robin fished through Nancy’s - her’s, technically - coat pocket to find her keys, Jon tapped Nancy’s upper arm to get her attention. It was one she had never seen before. Perhaps it was new. Perhaps he’d learned it from Bianca.

“You guys seem really happy,” He said. Nancy, suddenly, felt cold water pricking the corners of her eyes. It was overwhelming how much she wanted this. She wanted Robin, like this, forever. It hurt to recognize. Jon squeezed her arm one more time and stepped back.

“So do you,” Nancy choked out. 

“Nance! Ready to go?” Robin asked. She’d moved away as she and Jon had begun to speak, patting Bianca on the back with a promise of going out for coffee once both couples had settled into the city. Nancy wiped at her eyes with the back of her sweater. Jonathan, to his credit, pretended not to notice.

“Sure,” She said. The play was over.

Back inside Robin’s car, the silence was overbearing. Robin turned the key slowly. All the fervor from the drive over was drained out of her. Nancy watched Bianca tuck herself into Jonathan’s side as they walked down the sidewalk together. Unbeknownst to her, Robin watched Nancy. 

“What’d he say to you?” Robin asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Nancy said. Robin tsked in the back of her throat, shaking her head.

“Clearly he said something wrong, you’re crying,” She murmured. As Nancy looked down toward her tangled hands in her lap, Robin reached over with a soft finger to wipe underneath her eye.

“It’s fine,” Nancy muttered.

“Tell me.” Robin’s voice was soft but firm, as she tended to be. And Nancy could never refuse anything Robin told her to do.

“He said he was glad I was happy,” Nancy admitted. She lifted her head but not her eyes, focusing only on the center dash controls instead of Robin’s eyes. If she looked up, it’d be over.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Robin said. “Isn’t that what you wanted? For him to think you’re doing well?”

“I wish I was actually doing well, Rob,” Nancy replied bitterly.

“Who says you’re not?” Robin retorted. “You don’t have to follow the normal line of college-marriage-kids to be happy. You know you’d never be satisfied with that. It’s not your fault.”

“That’s not the issue,” Nancy all but groaned, flopping her head back onto the carseat and screwing her eyes shut. 

“Tell me, then.”

“I wish it were real.” The words came out nearly unintelligible. Rushed. Nancy desperately hoped Robin could not decipher it.

“You wish…what, the date?” Robin asked.

“This,” Nancy explained harshly, gesturing in between the two of them. She mustered enough courage to look up at Robin. She was staring at Nancy. Her face was slack. It was difficult to read her expression through the darkness of the parking lot, shrouded halfway by darkness. 

“Us?” Robin’s voice was carefully quiet. 

“I want the apartment and the cat and the stupid baguettes,” Nancy said, embarassed to find she was already on the verge of tears once again. It was just - all these feelings suddenly erupting to the surface, all with the name ROBIN BUCKLEY written across. In bright, unavoidable ink. It was a death sentence, loving her so much. “I want you. I want to be happy with you in every sense of the word. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Robin asked. Nancy stared at her incredulously as Robin began to grin. It was slow but definitely there, a soft rising sun on the bottom half of her face.

“Why am I-” Nancy scoffed, shaking her head and turning to look resolutely out the window. Bianca and Jonathan had disappeared, the sidewalk blissfully empty. “Because I just destroyed our friendship. Because I wanted to make Jonathan Byers jealous. Jonathan Byers. I haven’t cared about his opinion of me in years!”

“I, for one, had a great time making Jonathan Byers jealous,” Robin said. Nancy could hear the grin in her voice. “You shouldn’t apologize, Nance, because I - I’m on the same page.”

And then, and then - blissfully, thankfully, like a dream - Robin’s hand appeared in Nancy’s peripheral vision to grab onto her chin and yank her head the opposite direction. Nancy had barely enough time to part her mouth in an unspoken question before Robin was kissing her fiercely. Her lips were pleasantly dry, thoroughly bitten through by an anxious mouth. Nancy liked the way Robin’s fingers gripped her chin and cheek, pulling her close and closer still to get better access to her mouth. 

They pulled apart after a fierce conversation with only tongue and lip, so aggressive Robin’s pants came out in visible bursts of air. Nancy could feel her breath hit the tip of her nose, they were that close.

“Don’t apologize,” Robin repeated breathlessly.

“Okay,” Nancy agreed, equally as out of breath. “Sure.”

“He deserved a little payback anyway,” Robin said. Nancy blinked. She’d forgotten a world existed outside of Robin Buckley’s mouth.

“Who?”

“Jonathan,” Robin said, as if Nancy should’ve realized. “For making me jealous everyday of senior year.”

“Seriously?”

“Who doesn’t want to share baguettes with Nancy Wheeler?” Robin replied incredulously. Nancy kissed her again, because words were useless when it came to matters of love like this. Robin didn’t seem to mind.

[trulybetty]

oct' 02 x apple scent

Prompt: apple scent Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Bryony Morgan (OFC) Word Count: 908 Warnings: un-beta'd is the name of the game, mentions of food, implications of alcohol, Dieter's shameless flirting, hints at spice, but it goes no spicier than cinnamon for our favourite trash panda. this is fluff Summary: set who knows when in the Chiffon universe, slice of domesticity for one of my favourite character pairings

x. masterlist

The day had been long, too long.

The kind that sucked every ounce of energy out of you and still demanded more

The meetings were relentless, back to back, and some simultaneously both in person and over Zoom. By the time Bryony had closed the door to her office and waved good-bye to Tim at security she was well and truly drained. 

The only thought that kept her going was the sanctuary of her sofa and the blissful idea that she could go completely off the grid until ten the next morning.

As she pushed open the heavy front door of home, her senses were instantly flooded with the comforting aroma of apples and cinnamon. Already halfway out of her jacket and kicking off her heels before the door had closed behind her, she called out into the house, “Dieter!” Her belongings dropped unceremoniously in the hallway as she headed toward the source of the scent.

In the kitchen, Dieter was busily putting the finishing touches on a home-cooked dinner, an apron wrapped around his waist.

The sight was enough to bloom the first genuine smile she’d had since she had left him reluctantly in bed that morning with his promise of an evening of just the two of them. But Bryony’s overrun day had put a shot to that, she was home three hours later than she was supposed to. It was just as dark out as it was when she’d left that morning.

“It really is infuriating how good you are at this stuff.” Bryony commented, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

“Jealous Daff?” Dieter quipped, turning to catch her in an embrace.

She raised an eyebrow. “No,” she grumbled but melted into the warmth of his arms, feeling the tension of the day drain away. “It’s like I have my own little Stepford wife.”

Dieter chuckled, “Ah, but unlike them, I come with added benefits.”

As she surveyed the kitchen, she had to admit: Domesticity looked good on him. She had wondered how he would fare taking a hiatus from acting, but he seemed to be thriving. She playfully reached for a piece of the pie's crust, only to be swatted away.

“Ah-ah,” Dieter swatted her hand away, winking, “good things come to those who wait.”

“Okay, fine,” she held up her hands in defeat, “I’ll wait.”

Dieter smirked and handed her a generously filled glass. The bubbles fizzed around the lime garnish and ice. She didn't need to taste it to know what it was. “Thank you, I appreciate it,” she said, taking a sip.

Throwing the dishcloth he'd been holding over his shoulder, Dieter's broad shoulders became even more pronounced under the fabric of his thin flannel shirt. “I don’t need to ask to know you likely forgot lunch, refused to ask your assistant to grab something and drank nothing but coffee all day.”

As if on cue Bryony’s stomach grumbled loudly.

“You know me too well,” Bryony remarked, holding the glass to her chest.

Dieter laughed, his eyes narrowing playfully, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “I can read you like a book,” he paused for theatrics as he moved in closer to Bryony, “a very steamy, page-turning book.” he finished with a wink.

She rolled her eyes, not immune to the charm but too tired to engage fully. “Flatterer.”

“It's one of my many skills,” he winked. “Along with cooking, making women swoon, and being irresistible even in an apron. Does any of that ring a bell?”

“Mostly the apron,” she retorted with a cheeky smile, taking another sip of her drink. “It really does add a certain je ne sais quoi to the whole Bravo experience.”

Dieter leaned in, his voice dropping to a sensual murmur. “Oh, I've got plenty more experiences to offer, just say the word.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I'm too tired for experiences right now, and you know it.”

“Ah, so it'll have to be Dieter: The Home Edition tonight,” he grinned, planting a quick but tender kiss on her lips. “Go change, and let's have dinner.”

She hesitated, her eyes searching his for a moment. “I'm sorry for coming home late, I wanted to be here.”

His expression softened, his flirtatious air replaced by genuine warmth. “It's okay, Daff. I know how much your work means to you. Besides, this gives me an excuse to indulge you a bit.”

She smiled, genuinely touched. “I'll be right back.”

Despite the fatigue that was soaked into her bones Bryony headed up the stairs to their bedroom to change. Happy to shirk the confines of the semi-formal attire the day had called for and released from the restrictions of underwires, she changed into more comfortable clothes and headed back downstairs. As she re-entered the kitchen, Dieter was just placing the final dish on the dining table.

“Ready to eat?” he asked, the suggestive glint in his eye did not go amiss.

“Starving,” she said, taking her seat and reaching for her drink Dieter had brought to the table, “for food, mostly.” 

“Mostly,” he winked as he sat across from her. “Well, the night is young, my love. Who knows what other appetites we might satiate.”

She couldn't help but laugh. “You're incorrigible.”

He raised his glass for a toast. “And you wouldn't have me any other way.”

“True,” she agreed despite shaking her head playfully, clinking her glass against his. “Very, very true.”

[dreamcrow]

ToA Meta Prompt; Do you feel as if your criticisms and feelings re; the changelings in ToA has changed since you first saw the franchise/joined the franchise, and if so, how? 🤔

send me a meta prompt (mmmay or may not be accepting, try your luck); thank you for the ask!

hoo boy. so. if you weren't around for the beginning of this blog (or at least: the beginning of its toa incarnation), you should know i was fucking obsessed with changelings. you think my wretched orderfucker side blorbo originfic is cringe? how the people have forgotten my absolutely deranged strickler origin story. i would have posted canon x oc for that fic. i would have posted canon x niche historical blorbo rpf for that fic. the scrivener document for it is almost 12,000 words, which feels like a blink nowadays but which at the time was probably the grandest, most sweeping epic i had ever conceived. there was a conlang! i fell very hard for the stupid evil wizards, make no mistake. but changelings were how i got into toa, and a lot of my first cautious forays into fandom after a long hiatus were based on love of that concept. 

but. well. i suppose i can't really fault 3below for letting them fall by the wayside, since i guess literal creatures of the earth don't mesh very well with extraterrestrials. (though my criticisms re: 3below, especially its connection to toa generally, are...another post.) their absence from wizards is harder to give a charitable explanation, especially since one of the few things we do get from wizards is an onscreen changeling—albeit one with no name, in only one episode, and who dies less than five minutes after being introduced.

...so.

[ » read the rest of the essay on ao3 ]

[hersaladdeer]

Chapter 1, A Clean Slate

After a multi year hiatus from writing, this prompt popped into my head and would not leave me alone. All aged up, pro heros. Enjoy.

Link to chapter two.

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"You can't be serious. Kei, I didn't even pack professional clothes. I'm here for a concert-”

“I, unfortunately, am quite serious Chikoe.” Kei cut off her attempt to weasel out of their agreement. 

Chikoe took a moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath, pulling the phone away from her ear to silently curse her mentor and current menace. 

“Kei, you're more than capable of handling this on your own. You don't need my help. Why use your standing favor on this?”

“This was supposed to be a no questions asked favor, if I recall correctly. “

Chikoe rolled her eyes. “Fine. Okay. You're right, I am in Musutafu today. I could pop in as a consult, but I really don't think th-”

“Excellent, please be at the hospital for 3pm. See you soon.” Kei cut her off. A definitive click let Chikoe know that he had ended the call. The scenery passing by the train window kept her company while she silently cursed her mentors’ request. 

A strange looking xray was not a good reason to call her in on her day off. More importantly, she didn't want to deal with Kei poking and prodding about her now canceled wedding plans. She spared a glance across the aisle where the old lady who had smiled at her earlier quickly looked away. Chikoe cleared her throat before taking a sip from her water bottle. Of course she couldn't get away for a day, why would she be so delusional to think she could.

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“I apologize, I'm going to have to bring in a specialist to take a look at your results. They should be here for 3pm. They'll be able to answer any questions you may have and provide a care plan for your injury.”

Shoji nodded at the doctor. “Should I be concerned about something you found?” While his left shoulder did have s a slight ache to it, it didn't feel broken. This wasn't the first injury Dr. Hata had attended to, so the additional attention was a bit concerning. 

Dr. Hata shook his head. “Unfortunately I'm a few credentials short of a specialization in divergent biological diagnoses. Based on what I'm seeing, I think it's best to consult an expert.” The old man hobbled over to look at Shojis chart. “But don't fret. While there are only a few active doctors in Japan with that specific credential, one owes me a personal favor and I happen to know they'll be in the city today. I've called in that favor to get you back to your work as soon as possible.” The doctor scribbled a few things on the chart. “Have you had any other symptoms present themselves in the last few hours?”

“No.” Shoji replied easily, appreciating the extra care the doctor was taking. “Thank-you for calling in that favor. I don't mean to question you Dr. Hata. But really, it was just a bad fall. I've had an unfortunate amount of those in my time. If there's something strange on that xray, I'm sure I've handled worse before.”

“I think it's best to be cautious, my friend. You only have one body. Besides, you're my granddaughters favorite hero. She would never forgive me if I sent you back to work without ensuring you were safe to do so.” Dr. Hata laughed. “She'd really hate me for that. I'd never hear the end of it! The good news is it's already noon. Please make yourself comfortable for the next few hours.” Dr. Hata gave a slight nod to Shoji, signaling that the conversation was closed. The doctor began shuffling from the room humming quietly to themselves whilst they did so. 

Shoji sighed. Dr. Hata was well known in the hero community for being able to assess injuries and provide swift care to keep heros able to work. Shoji had visited the doctor a handful of times and always found him insightful and helpful, often offering stretches and exercises to help prevent future injuries. But it was rare he spent more than an hour at the hospital and frankly, Tentacole wanted to get back to patrol. Yes, he had hit his head and left arm quite hard, but nothing seemed broken. 

Sighing, he grabbed a magazine and started flipping through it to pass the time.

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“I'm here to see Dr. Hata.” Chikoe informed the receptionist. She noticed how the womans eyes widened slightly when Chikoe started speaking, quickly regaining her composure and began typing on the keyboard on her desk. 

“I don't recognize you from his recent patients.* The woman's eyes met Chikos, an eyebrow raised in an unappreciative manner. “I don't see that he has any other appointments today.”

Chikoe smiled at the woman. “No, sorry. I wasn't very clear. That bastard called me in for a consult-”

“Please don't disrespect Dr. Hata.” The receptionist glared at Chikoe, the previously frantic typing stopping. “Otherwise I'll have to remove you from the hospital. I won't tolerate disrespectful behavior toward him.”

“Oh my God if you could please remove me from his rotation, I would be beyond thrilled. Please. Erase my number from his phone. Hell, erase my memory from his brain.” Chikoe started to rant, causing the receptionists’ other eyebrow to rise. “Believe me, I don't want to see him today, but-”

“There you are my dear! I see you've met my new receptionist, Aya.” Kei hobbled toward the receptionist area, not quite reaching the height of the desk. “Aya, this is Dr. Hori. Please treat her with more respect than she treats everyone else.” 

Chikoe glared at the bald head visible over the desk. “Kei, I am plenty respectful of people who respect my time. I don't know why you're calling me in for this, but you're more than capable of handling whatever it is on your own. You're always more than capable. So what is it you really want?”

Kei exaggerated a gasp. “Oh, to have someone of your expertise think so highly of me! I'm thrilled. But please, come this way. I do need your opinion on a few things.” Kei began shuffling into the hospital wing, leaning heavily on his cane. “And please, I am no bastard. My parents were wed for years before I was born. If you're going to insult me at least be accurate.” 

Aya giggled, looking in Chikoe’s direction. Chikoe met her gaze. “You know, you're in the perfect position to hide his cane from him. You can just put it on your desk. He'd never be able to find it.” Aya rolled her eyes at the request before returning to typing away at her computer. “Worth a shot.” Chikoe quietly muttered to herself, making her way to the room Dr. Hata was leading her to. 

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“There's nothing wrong here.”

“Is that your professional opinion Dr. Hori, or is that the opinion of the little angry girl in your brain trying to get out of here so you can go have your fun?”

Chikoe turned to look down at Kei. “Do you really think I'd let someone leave with an untreated injury just so I can make a concert on time? You wound me.” Chikoe went to grab her bag. “This is Tentacole, I take it?” she looked at the numerous humerus visible in the xray. “There's no breaks or burrs or anything I can see to cause any issues with them returning to work. Although I'm surprised their glenohumeral joint isn't giving them any problems.” She stepped foward to look at the joint closer. It was shaped slightly wider than normal to accommodate the additional arms present, but was not as concave as she would have expected. 

“So why haven't I received a wedding invitation?” Kei probed as she examined the xray. 

Chikoe closed her eyes and sighed. 

“Because I haven't sent out any wedding invitations.” She turned her attention to the man beside her. “Do you want to deliver the news to him, or should I?” Chikoe attempted to change the topic, but Kei either didn't get the hint or chose to ignore it. Chikoe bet it was the latter. 

“Let's tell him together. If you just walk in there dressed like that, he may not think you're a doctor. Better I be there to assure him you are.”

Chikoe looked down at her clothing. Sure, her jeans were ripped, and yes maybe the black band t-shirt wasn't the most professional, but she could grab a lab coat from somewhere. But Dr. Hata didn't give her the chance, cane tapping on towards the patient wing. “Isn't your wedding in a few months time? I would have thought-”

“We broke up.” Chikoe said shortly. “I found him in bed with someone else. On my birthday, the absolute prick. So I left.” Chikoe paused, waiting for Kei to interrupt and say he was sorry to hear, but the man stayed silent waiting for her to continue. “And now I don't want to work at that hospital anymore. I quit. Not the best move career wise, but all day all I’d hear is how he's a wonderful fucking surgeon and how he's helped so many people. Or, my favorite, how I was so stupid to think he could have settled for the equivalent of a human harmonica when he could have anyone.” Without looking, Kei gave her a swift rap to her shins with his walking cane for the comment, forcing a yelp of pain from the woman.

“I won't let anyone talk about you that way, even yourself. You don't get to say such awful things about my friend.”

“Or how he's so great with all the patients and how he really cares.” Chikoe managed through gritted teeth, the sharp pain from the hit radiating up her legs. “Which, fine. He can be a stellar surgeon and a cheating asshole. There's nothing to say you can't be both.” Chikoe sighed and began walking again, keeping a watchful eye on Keis' walking cane. She heard some whispers from the nurses station behind them and winced, wondering if they'd now put a face to a name. She lightly touched the black velvet covering around her throat to make sure it was still in place. 

“Excellent. Here's your badge.” Kei reached into his pocket and pulled out an ID badge. Chikoe looked at it, before raising an eyebrow at the man she loomed over. 

“... Did you seriously use my high school graduation picture on this ID badge?” Kei snickered while Chikoe gazed at the younger version of herself, complete with braces, far too much eyeliner and short, cropped dark hair. “I don't know why you bothered. I didn't apply to work here, Kei. I'm not even sure if there's an opening. I may just take some time off. Get my head straightened out a bit.”

“Pish posh, you love what you do. And your head looks properly centered to me. You just need a new start. Somewhere where there is a high need for divergent biological expertise. Someplace where the rumor mill has already moved on to jucier gossip. Did you know Gang Orca is hooking up with-”

“No, nor do I care.” After so recently being the center of the rumor mill, Chikoe cut Kei off before he could finish. She didn't want any part in the tea at the moment, having been the proverbial tea only a few months ago. 

Kei paused his marching and sighed, before looking up at Chikoe with what she suspected was sincerity plastered on his face. “Well, you don't want to be there. So be here. We both know you love this area, and I'll need someone to take over when I retire.” Chikoe laughed before rolling her eyes down at the man. “You? Retire? I'll believe that when I see it.”

Kei turned and began walking again without sparing her a glance. “You don't need to decide today. But there's an apartment across the street in your name, and your badge is active as of today. Aya can give you the keys on your way out. I hope to see you soon, Dr. Hori.”

Chikoe looked down at the picture of herself, considering the offer. “So how'd you find out, then?”

Kei spared a glance at the nurses station behind them. “You know how hospitals work Chikoe. Word gets around. And if you stop to listen, you'd be surprised at what you hear.”

“Not exactly the clean slate I'd be hoping for.” 

Kei began laughing at the younger doctor trailing behind him. “Please. Like I said, hotter tea than you and the cheating surgeon is being sipped on at the moment. Surgeons cheat, that's old news.”

Chikoe sighed, pocketing the badge and tried to swallow the guised I told you so Kei casually slipped into their conversation. “Did you have Aya make this badge then? And did she to the legwork on setting up the apartment?”

Kei nodded, smiling. “Giving her a furniture budget was a treat, I'm excited for you to see what she picked out. Maybe if you're nice to her, she'll update the picture on the badge for you too.” Chikoe briefly considered if the front desk woman had actually recognized her, and was simply playing coy earlier. 

Kei stopped in front of door 3E, looking up at Chikoe. “I hope you'll consider it, Dr. Hori.” He reached into his lab coat, handing her a small bundle of papers. “This is your official offer. You'll notice the start date is blank. Whenever you want, it's here. You expertise would be well valued here.” He put both hands on top of his cane, looked up at her with soft eyes. “Please, take it more seriously than you do me.” 

“That's a low bar.” Chikoe laughed, looking briefly at the papers. She'd have to assess them more carefully later. “I'll consider it.” She added more sincerely. “Thank you.” She finished, her voice softer than it had been all day. Kei was a kind man, and had always ensured she was taken care of. As much as they bickered, he was a good friend to her.

Kei nodded. “Let's finish calling in this favor so you can go have your fun.”

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“Shoji?”

Shoji looked up, slightly startled at the sound of his name seemingly coming from a number of synced voices. The voices were definitely female, but…. Many females at once. His eyes met only one unknown pair, a woman who's dark hair was pulled into a braid that must have reached down her back, casually flipped over her shoulder. Her eyes were a green color, contrasting her pale skin and dark hair. He nodded, still unsure of where the other voices were coming from. 

“I'm Dr. Hori, Dr. Hata’s….” the woman paused to look down at the familiar doctor. Shoji could only conclude that those voices - all of them - belonged to her.  

“..... Associate.” The woman finished, walking to the grab his chart. 

“Friend?” offered Dr. Hata, slowly closing the door behind them, cane tapping along the floor as he did so. 

“Victim?” the woman shot back, her voice much more firm than it had been a few seconds ago, now turning to glare at the man. Shoji looked quickly between the pair, the dichotomy amusing given the familiarity flavoring their interactions. 

Dr. Hata scoffed. “Victim of what, pray tell?”

“Minimally, harassment. Realistically, bullying.” The woman pulled something out of her pocket and waved it in his general direction. She quickly put it away, a look of what may have been embarrassment creeping across her face as she turned to meet the hero's eyes. As though she had forgot he was there. 

“I apologize for the delay, this was a last minute addition to my schedule and required some coordination. The good news is you're clear to return to work, so long as you feel up to it.” Chikoe smiled politely. She would have to give Kei hell for delaying a vital service worker from returning to work just to corner her. 

“So, you didn't see anything concerning on the xrays?” Shoji raised an eyebrow in surprise. Dr. Hata was never one to keep heros from their duties unless it was needed. Some doctors were not as familiar with the risks they faced or the wear on a heros body. Dr. Hata was known for being pragmatic. A sprain could be worked through, but it was not always advisable. The ability to recognize that and make a risk assessment based on quirks and workload was not lost on Dr. Hata, making him sought out in the local hero community. To be put on modified duties or benched by Dr. Hata did happen, but only if needed.

Chikoe was uncertain if Shoji was perplexed or mad at the lack of findings given his face covering, and frowned. Understanding that some heros did not appreciate their time being unnecessarily wasted, she decided to try and mitigate the potential anger instead of explaining that Dr. Hata had simply used him as an excuse to bring her into the hospital. 

“I apologize, Dr. Hata was simply being cautious based on his observations. If you'd like, I'd be happy to go over your xrays with you.” Chikoe offered, hoping the hero would refuse so she could leave. Maybe grab a drink at the bar before the show started, read her contract, and let go of the past few months for a bit. Shoji considered the offer, and much to Chikoes dismay, simply said “Sure.”

“I will go grab them.” Dr. Hata stated, cane slowly moving into the hallway. Shoji noticed he was humming the same tune from earlier, and he realized it was a song he knew. From the band displayed on Dr. Hori’s shirt. 

“It would be much faster if I did it.” Chikoe called after Kei, but he seemingly ignored her, his humming becoming more distant as he hobbled away. She turned to look at Shoji, clearing her throat before sitting in the chair opposite him. “Is he always like this?” she asked the hero. “Actually, that's not a fair question. I don't know how often you see him.  I apologize. It's been a…. Strange day.” She concluded, offering the hero a small smile. 

“The humming is new.” Shoji offered, hoping the smile under his mask was reflected in his eyes. “Please, call me Mezo. But while new, it seems like it's a tune you would know.” He made a gesture against his own shirt, so as not to gesture rudely at her torso.

“You could say I'm a fan, but he's definitely not. He never appreciated Kami’s style.”

“Kami?” asked Shoji, slightly confused. The band -Wolf Howl- was one Tokoyami regularly listened to. But he'd never heard them referred to as Kami. 

“My brother.” She pointed to him on her shirt. The main vocalist, if the band placement was an indicator of band position. 

“I see.” Thinking back, Shoji did remember that Tokoyami had been talking about how the lead vocalist had a very unique voice. Perhaps they had a similar quirk.

Chikoe looked uncomfortable in the silence that followed. Shoji, trying to find something to fill it, continued on. “I hear he's quite the vocalist. I have a friend who is a fan.” He offered. Chikoe seemed to be more at ease talking with him than sitting in silence. The smile on her face struck Shoji as genuine, and he noticed how the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. It was cute. 

“I'll be sure to pass that along, he'd truly appreciate it. He has more control over-” she gestured vaguely to her throat, covered in what appeared to be a soft, dark fabric, “I do not.” She ended simply, shrugging. “When I sing it sounds more like a poorly harmonized choir. Or a colony of angry cats.”

Shoji chuckled, appreciating the visual Chikoes words provided. “I'm sure it's delightful. You have a beautiful voice.”

Chikoe raised an eyebrow apprehensively, opening her mouth to respond. She was interrupted by tapping of Dr. Hatas cane signaling the man's return. Dr. Hori rose to meet him, snatching the folder out of the shorter man's hands and making her way over to the light box in the corner of the room. Shoji rose from the chair, stretching out his arms to relieve the stiffness, and walked over to the pair of doctors. 

“Have you ever seen an xray of your arms before?” Dr. Hori asked, pulling one out of the folder and clipping it to the light box. Shoji shook his head. “Until I started hero training, I didn't see a doctor very often.” 

Chikoe nodded, with what looked to be sadness in her eyes as she turned her attention back to the xray. “That… makes sense.” She stated, looking at the xray. “There's a few old fractures that don't look like they were treated correctly.” Her finger gestured  to an area on his dupliarm that seemed slightly thicker than the surrounding area. “Like here.” She tapped the offending area lightly with her finger. “If it's not causing you any pain, I'm not concerned. If it is, I can assess and develop a treatment plan.” Chikoe looked up at the masked man, her offer hanging in the air. 

Shoji shook his head. “No pain.” He said simply, not offering an explanation to the untreated fracture. To her credit, Dr. Hori simply nodded. “The concern from Dr. Hata was a cumulative concern. It's not abnormal to see heros with many healed injuries. It's easy to lose sight of how that can scale with additional appendages. Your accumulation is…” Chikoe bit her lip, a move that Shoji couldn't help register as cute. “... Not appropriately scaled. You have more than can be explained by your time as a hero. So there are concerns with whether this is due to a malalignment of your quirk to your body, or due to external factors.” She paused, but did not turn her attention away from the xray. “If it was a malalignment, I think we'd see more injuries given the inevitability of use your quirk has.”

Shoji took a second to process her words. “You're correct.” Chikoe didn't wait for him to elaborate, understanding the sensitive nature of this conversation. “Understood. If that's the case I have no concerns with your return to work.” She turned her attention back up to the man who unintentionally towered over her. Shoji watched her nibble her lip before continuing. 

“Please understand ahead of this request, that my ability to treat the diversity of issues I see is completely dependent on my ability to examine different patients. No two puzzles are the same, but most puzzles have corner pieces, if that makes sense. I will always respect a no. You have no obligation to lend your physiology to my curiosity.” Shoji raised an eyebrow, not sure what the request Dr. Hori was building up to. She turned her attention back to the xray and gestured to his shoulder joint. 

“That is your glenohumeral joint. It's not shaped as I would expect based on how your arms are structured and attached. Would you allow me to touch and examine that joint while you move your arms a bit? I'm curious about how your body is correcting for the joints' shallowness.” Chikoe was aware of how her words had become faster, but couldn't help her nervousness. 

Shoji was left staring at the woman, his brain taking a moment to process her word vomit. Dr. Hata had become abnormally silent during the interaction. Chikoe let the silence sit for a moment, before clearing her throat and meeting Shojis eyes. “I apologize, I understand this can be an uncomfortable request. We can end this meeting here.” She bowed slightly in apology. “Again, my sincere apologies for the intrusion. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.” Before Shoji could respond, Chikoe quickly retreated from the room, leaving his xrays with Dr. Hata. Shoji looked to Dr. Hata, unsure what to make of the sudden exit. 

Dr. Hata sighed. “I know you meant nothing by your silence. When she's nervous she can talk a bit fast, which makes it difficult to process what she's saying. But…” Dr. Hata paused, considering his words carefully. “People are not always open to her requests. Some get mad. A few patients have become violent with her over it. So don't take her nervousness personally - it's not you, it's a reaction to past interactions that ended poorly.” Shoji was taken aback at the doctors words. “She has never taken a refusal, spoken or otherwise, personally. And I don't think she should stop asking - there is a valuable lesson in understanding the similarities in our diversities. But as time goes on, she's becoming more nervous. It's hard not to after being punched in the face I suppose.” 

Shoji was struck with guilt. Regardless of whether it was because of him as a person, or him as a reminder of past violence, he had made what appeared to be a caring doctor uncomfortable. “Please tell her I just had a hard time keeping up with what she was saying.”

Dr. Hata nodded. “Not that I wish you an injury, but I hope you can tell her yourself. I've made her an offer to work here more permanently, with me.” Dr. Hata nodded to himself before continuing, beginning to pack up the xray. “If it's not too much to ask, could you…Let other heros know? I know you can't tell everyone, but just as it comes up. Not only about the new hire, but to not take her requests personally. Again, they're under no obligation to agree. I would never want to pressure anyone into an unwanted examination. But her expertise is bolstered by those who are amenable to her requests. She's become more hesitant as time goes on - I'm actually surprised she asked you today.” 

Dr. Hatas explanation did nothing to ease the guilt Shoji felt. “I… Yes. Yes I can let some others know. I have no doubt she'll be a valuable addition to your team.”

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Chikoe silently cursed herself. What a way to start off a new position….If she chose to accept it. 

Passing quickly by Aya, she did a 180 degree turn and stopped by the woman's desk. “Thank-you. I'm sure the requests Dr. Hata made regarding me are well outside of your scope of responsibility. Please, let me know if there's anything I can do to repay your kindness.”

For the first time, Aya smiled at Chikoe. “Honestly, it was fun to decorate! I love decorating. It was a nice change of pace from scheduling and dealing with a million phone calls a day.” Aya tossed a set of keys over the counter, with a small note attached outlining the building and apartment number. 

Chikoe smiled at the woman's response. She had never been a fan of decorating - understanding how things were put together was easier than actually putting things together cohesively - and was relieved that the woman had not agnozied over the additional duties. “So, uh… “ Chikoe cleared her throat. “How would I go about updating my photo on… This?” She pulled out the badge, turning it over in her hand.

Aya frowned. “Sorry, that machine is down. The only thing that will fix it would be for the new hire to be a decent person to Dr. Hata.” Chikoe blinked at the woman's response, then laughed. 

“Guess this is what I'm stuck with then. Thank you regardless!” Chikoe didn't miss the eyeroll from Aya as she fled from the hospital. 

Off to the venue, then. The apartment could wait.

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And that's where I'll leave this for now - this will be a bit of a slow burn. Chapter two here.

[hazelnut-u-out]

HERE YOU GO, ANON :)

i'm writing these in order, so i promise i'll get around to everyone's eventually. there's nothing better than logging on and seeing more prompts in my inbox. i literally start geeking.

thank you guys for sending so many in! requests are still on the table since i have some free time on my hands with the hiatus.

anyway, i was gonna make this one super angsty, but i HAD to put some comfort in there. my boys deserve a break, don't you think?

morty has a nightmare and can't find rick o-0

3263 words

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This place was a fucking maze of screens and metal- of whirring lights and sounds.

Morty was uncomfortable on the unfamiliar upholstery of the ship. He wasn’t sure where Rick had gotten it- somewhere from his grandfather’s original dimension, the boy assumed- but it somehow seemed both less advanced and hastily put together than the one he was used to riding in. The seat was scratchy on the back of his arms- his palms sweaty from their position on the steering mechanism.

He could barely inhale. There was too much going on.

The blue lights surrounding him were alive, worming their way into the ship and swarming his head with the answers to questions he hadn’t even known he’d harbored before now. The voice of the other Rick- his real grandpa? - was its own breathing entity. If his very existence was wrapping a tight cord around Morty’s neck, restricting his ability to breathe, he couldn’t imagine how Rick felt in his presence.

He could still feel Rick’s body engulfing him moments before. Morty had been scared at first, petrified of the kill bots. He felt silly for it now. He probably didn’t even have to crawl to Rick’s side. Rick wouldn’t have let them touch him- didn’t let them. He offered up his own body as a shield almost as if it was second nature.

He supposed it was.

Morty had closed himself off within the ship. Safe. He knew Rick knew that much.

He watched his grandfather leap and glide through the endless onslaught of combat as if, at the very core of his being, he was engineered for this exact encounter.

No- it was more like he was engineered for something else entirely, and this man- this Rick- had taken it all away from him.

Morty knew he was stupid- he wasn’t gifted or bright; he could never hold onto the flow of what Rick was saying. He was aware of his uselessness, his sheer replaceability, but he’d also seen enough in his short life to know where this was going.

He could hear his moms’ voices through the speaker on the ship’s dash. They were in danger, they needed him.

But so did Rick.

Rick needed a reason to leave; to give this up; to fucking survive.

Morty shakily pressed the button to open the glass shield that encompassed him.

“My moms are in danger!” he shouted, his throat on the verge of closing up; of failing him. He felt his voice wobble with panic as the words tumbled from his lips, watching Rick down another kill bot with sinister fluidity.

“Those versions of them are,” Rick spat, not even bothering to look back.

What the fuck? No. He had to get him out of here.

He knew Rick was aware of what this really was- so, why? Why was he even bothering? Rick was the smartest man Morty fucking knew- in the whole goddamn universe. If Morty had pieced it together, he knew Rick had.

That’s why he wasn’t sure of the exact reason his next words flung themselves from his mouth. Maybe they were more of a desperate plea to get Rick to come along; to appeal that part of his grandfather that was nothing more but a slave to logic and calculation- maybe even an attempt at rattling that speck of Rick that feared the unknown.

The after.

The absence of God.

C’mon, Rick… Weigh the odds.

“We gotta save them!” He begged, pulling the ship up to hover above the platform. “Rick, this is an obvious trap. If you go down there, he’s just gonna kill you!”

“Good,” Rick hurled back, throwing his body forward, two more bots pitching downward by his sides as he landed knee-first on a slightly lower platform.

If Rick’s comment about his mothers had stabbed Morty in the gut, that single word was the swipe that flayed him. He felt his innards falling to the ground, and he scrambled to pick them up- to shove them back inside and find somewhere, someone, to stitch him back up.

“What?!” Morty asked, tone laced with bewilderment.

This was the same man who just put himself on the front line in favor of Morty- who tucked him beneath the haven of his spindly frame and was willing to be sliced in half with a laser if that’s what it took to keep Morty alive for even a brief moment longer.

Now, he wanted to talk about the insignificance of a human life?

He wanted to die?

Morty wasn’t going to let him lay down and give up that easily.

He brought the ship back down to land on the platform, turning to open the door but- but suddenly, he was trapped. He was no longer inside of a ship, but a tight glass box with no way out.

He watched his grandpa near that glass tunnel. He watched the elder jump down.

Morty desperately punched the glass; kicked at it; threw his body against it, but- nothing.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“RICK!” the boy shouted, feeling his knuckles split open as he punched the glass with more fervor; his words like blades sawing at his throat; his blood smearing along the invisible barrier that separated them. “RICK, PLEASE! PLEASE D-DON’T DO THIS! FU-FUCK YOU, R-RICK! I-I-I NEED YOU, GRANDPA! PLEASE!”

Morty couldn’t breathe. It felt as if a rubber band had been wound around his chest. Tears and snot poured from his little body as if he was nothing more than a broken faucet and he fell to his knees.

Fucking useless. Broken. Pathetic. He couldn’t save him.

He braced himself on his hands, shaking with holding up the weight of his body without enough oxygen.

His vision went blurry, and he knew his grandpa was dead.

He was next.

Morty shot up, taking in a deep gulp of midnight air as his eyes darted open. He brought his unsteady hands up to claw at his neck in the darkness- his throat was so dry- as he kicked and cursed at the blanket that stuck to his damp form.

It was a dream, he told himself. A dream.

Eventually, the boy steadied. He looked around, eyes now adjusted to the obscurity of the room, and let himself gradually trust that he was home; in his bedroom.

Light seeped through in a sliver from his doorway.

He’d asked Rick to leave it cracked. The elder insisted on putting Morty to bed every night since, making sure his room was up to par with the latest addition to his “protocol.”

“Just in case,” he’d assured Morty. “He doesn’t care. He’s n-not gonna come for you, buddy, b-but I’ll be fu-fucking damned if he- if that bitch tries.”

His ragged breathing steadily morphed into deep, concentrated breaths- his heart slowing down from that persistent pounding to a stable thrum.

Morty wasn’t sure why he did what he did next, because never- in all the time he’d known Rick- had he ever extended any comfort towards him. Despite every fiber of logic in his being telling him it was a fruitless endeavor that would only end in more distress, Morty placed his feet on the soft carpet of the floor and stood.

Maybe he just needed to know that Rick was alive; still there- a corporeal being that could walk and talk and breathe.

As he moved through the hallway, the house was still and quiet. Not an inkling of the typical humdrum of life stirred inside, as if in a defiant stance to the overhead light of the hallway giving the corridor a façade of insomnia.

He flinched at the cold biting into his feet from the hardwood flooring, pushing himself upward to instead walk on his tippy-toes until he reached the bottom of the stairs.

 The evening hung low on the bottom level of the home, threatening to absorb Morty until he was nothing more than an aura, too- floating around in that liminal space between the known and unknown.

Morty had never been a fan of the dark. It held too many questions and yielded too few answers.

He’d disliked his grandfather for being the exact antithesis.

Rick and the night were like yin and yang- taking and giving in opposite natures- but Rick loved to punish himself. Morty wondered if Rick knew his grandson saw the way he’d let the night pull the thoughts from his head and then hurl them back into his aging flesh as if they were daggers. 

Morty wrapped his arms around himself, the night air rousing goosebumps along his sweat-laced skin- but a part of himself knew it was to hold himself together.

He gently padded his way to the doorway of Rick’s room.

The first bout of panic set in when he realized his grandfather’s door was wide open. No light shone from inside but…

No- Rick probably just forgot to close it, Morty told himself- but he was unable to still the quickening pounding on the inside of his ribs.

With a few steadying breaths, the boy rounded the corner and stared into the empty void of the room.

No Rick.

His cot looked undisturbed.

Morty felt as if breathing were some impossible task- as if the atmosphere was laced with toxic gas that blistered deep into his chest when he tried to inhale.

Quick sharp gasps permeated the stillness surrounding him as he moved without thinking. Just like Rick had showed him to clear a space with a gun, he moved swiftly but steadily around corners- a second nature to him now.

This part- running; scoping; gauging a situation- was what came organically to him at this point. He only faltered when it came to making a decision.

He cleared each of the silent rooms one by one.

The living room. Clear.

The dining room. Clear.

The kitch- There was a figure.

Behind the counter was a shape standing tall and willowy, nothing but a black silhouette- the outline of a man he knew well. Morty could tell it was Rick- his Rick.

Something about the breathing pattern, the way his shoulders hunched forward- even here, in the absence of light, Morty knew. He thought he’d be able to tell his Rick apart from any other lithe thing even in the absence of all of his senses.

Something just felt… right. Or wrong.

A sense of calm. Or panic.

One could not exist without the other with him, but Morty knew- he knew- and he could take solace in that. That was enough.

Too often, he felt as if he knew nothing, so- here; now; knowing who’s back at which he stared- that would suffice.  

Morty stood there for a long moment, feeling content enough to go back to bed with a sense of having been pacified just knowing that Rick was still a tangible being haunting his family home. He felt himself slow to a calm, his own shoulders sliding forward in a similar fashion to his grandfather’s, as relief flooded his mind. The gentle push and pull of the waves drowned the anxious torrent of thought that had commandeered his small form just moments before.

Then, just as he thought he was about to slip out of the kitchen without being noticed, a soft rumble of a murmur snaked its way across the distance between the two.

“Nightmare?”

If recounting this moment, Morty wouldn’t have said that the tone in which Rick spoke was laced with any intention of being gentle. He wasn’t a foolish enough child to think the elder was capable of anything of the sort. It was just sputtered into the air with a flatness that felt… hollow; pained.

It was something more akin to how he sounded when he was gravely injured; like a small exhale doused in self-pity.

It was a tone that Morty knew well.

He took a moment, debating whether he would even bother answering, before he slid onto one of the bar stools. The leather of the seat was cool as it kissed Morty’s thighs through his pajama bottoms.

“R-Rick?” The question came out a little more than a gruff croak. He had all but forgotten how hoarse he’d been when he woke up, but now the memory sunk back over his thoughts.

“Yeah?” the figure sighed, shifting a bit- the rustle of fabric a soft hum over the grain of the surface separating them. The light above the stove flickered to life, spinning a dim yellowy blanket over the kitchen, Rick’s finger hovering over the switch before he turned to face his grandson.

The golden light hugged the sallow face of Morty’s grandfather like a glove, the fine lines and cracks across the old man’s blank expression the seams of its tender handiwork. In his left hand, Rick held a can of light beer. A plush red robe draped off the harsh angles of his sinuous pallid frame and he splayed his free hand flat across the counter, leaning forward.

He was nothing more than a wisp of energy- the living memory of a man. If Morty leaned into the silence enough, he thought he could have heard the whirring of the machinery keeping his body alive- if he were to look close enough, maybe he could see it stirring beneath his skin.

“Do-“ Morty began before Rick cut him off.

“Water,” the man said pointedly, jutting his chin to indicate a full glass that sat on the edge of the counter closest to Morty, a few inches from his left hand. “Drink. You sound like- you’re talking l-like the fuckin’ Grudge or some shit.” Rick’s eyes bore into his own with more intensity than Morty thought he’d ever seen from a hooded gaze, but his expression remained unreadable- lips nothing but a thin line aside from when he’d take a curt sip of the beer he lifted to his lips every few moments.

Morty hated how Rick would do that- ask a question and then interrupt him when he went to answer. He guessed, though, that he couldn’t really complain about it right now. He’d brushed off Rick’s probe about his nightmare with just as much casual disregard as Rick allotted his own curiosity.

Pushing aside his irritation, Morty eagerly obliged his request. He wrapped his hands around the glass and raised it to his mouth. Not bothering to wrap his lips around the rim to take proper sips, he opened wide and chugged eagerly until no more than a few gulps swished at the bottom. The liquid ran down the sides of his chin, dripping down his neck and soaking into the collar of his still-damp shirt.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve.

“Where- How did yo- W-Why did you have water sitting there al-already? L-like… how did you know I was going to need a drink?” Morty muttered. He wasn’t really sure why he even bothered to look for answers with Rick. It could just be assumed that he was always ten steps ahead of everyone else. Fifty steps, if it was Morty.

“Y-You know, when Beth would have a bad dream, I would always h-hold her. She preferred w-warm milk or horchata b-urrrrp-ut I didn- I’ve never comforted you before, a-and I’m sure as hell not fuckin’ holding you, so.” He took another drink from his can.

Now, Morty wasn’t even sure if he could read Rick’s tone anymore. It was something he’d never heard in the man’s cadence. He set down the glass and lowered his gaze, twiddling his thumbs over one another.

“How did you kn-know I had a nightmare?” Morty flicked his eyes back up to find Rick now fidgeting with the top of the can, thumbing the metal tab.

“I figured that w-was the most likely reason for you to be sneaking around, back to the wall like you were on s-some cheesy ass co- police show,” Rick offered, an airy chuckle jouncing his breathy statement to an odd rhythm.

Morty furrowed his brow, cheeks heating with a bit of embarrassment. “I- uhh… I-I couldn’t find you,” his voice wavered, cracking a bit. He had to clear his throat to continue, fighting against that lump swelling there. “I dreamt th-that… in my-my dream you… ya know… I couldn’t st-stop you. I just wanted to-“

“See if I was breathing?” Rick finished for him. Morty blinked back the tears threatening to slip down his cheeks.

“Y-Yeah. How-“

“I still peek in fr-from time to time,” Rick shrugged, looking back up at his grandson. Morty raised a brow, not fully understanding. “To see if Beth’s breathing- y-you and Summer,” the old man clarified, lowering his stare again.

“O-Oh…” Morty whispered back.

Morty got up, exhaustion now pulling at his eyelids. Even if he hadn’t been tired, he would've appreciated the isolation so that he could cry. He didn’t want Rick to see him like this.

As much as Morty knew it was stupid to idolize the man in front of him in any way, he couldn’t help but want Rick to think he was strong.

Maybe a little part of him knew that Rick had no one else left to depend on. Maybe a part of him just wanted to be for Rick what a grandfather should be for a grandson; or a parent for a child. He got the feeling Rick was a lot like him in that way- that he’d never gotten that- and he wondered if he still felt like Morty did. Scared. Just a boy.

A boy trapped in the shell of a sad old drunk.

In all of those ‘maybe’s, there was a certainty. Rick would have Morty.

So, Morty turned to walk away, pressing his palms into his eyes until stars danced in the edges of his vision.

“Gimme a minute and-and I’ll be -urrrrp- up,” Rick said emphatically.

Morty startled, slowly turning on his heel and dropping his hands. “Huh?”

“Y-Yeah. Just let- gonna finish this beer and then I’ll grab my shit. Y-Your rug comfy?” Rick picked an invisible piece of lint off of his robe, no inflection to his voice to indicate sarcasm.

“Uhhhh…” Morty was unsure how to respond. Was he really-

“Ehhh, nevermind. I know it’s not. I’ll bring an extra blanket.”

--------

He did cry. Just a bit. He swallowed down the bile trying to snake its way out of him.

It had been a while- maybe twenty minutes- and he started to think Rick wasn’t coming. That was okay. Morty didn’t think he needed him to. He’d really only needed to see him. To make sure his family was safe.

He was almost asleep when he heard the door creak open, and the inside of his eyelids turned a light orange from the flood of light coming in from the hallway.

There was some rustling and grunting- a clank that told him Rick had brought a six pack with him- before he heard a gruff sigh.

The boy let a few more moments pass, waited to hear Rick’s breathing even out and deepen, before he spoke.

“Rick?”

“Yeah?”

“I… I bet you were a good dad.” Morty whispered, letting the stillness of the room soak up his words. He wasn’t sure that Rick had even heard him, but then a strange, soft noise gurgled from the center of the room.

Rick cleared his throat.

“Shut the fuck up, Morty.”

The corner of Morty’s lip twitched up softly before silence enveloped the room once again.

[satashiiwrites]

Hmm... for the WIP ask game either your current NaNo project, Stay, or Afterthoughts (or all 3 of them if you want lol). Your choice! <3

Sure, we can do all three.

Choices and Regrets is a 911/Buddie version/fusion of the novel Dark Matter by Blake Crouch (which is one of my all time favorite books and Apple is making into a TV series). I’m doing this fic for November’s Rough Trade using the second chances part of the prompt as well as a NaNoWriMo because I have the feeling the ending word count is going to be north of 70k. I weirdly have a bunch of November off because I’m switching jobs so I HOPE to have most of the fic written/out by the end of the month. We’ll see how i’m doing. It’s the 8th and I’m at 14K written out of a goal of 50k.

The basic premise is do you like the choices you made in your life or do you have regrets? I’m setting this in 9-1-1 post lightning strike in season 6 and ignoring almost anything canon after that point (no Natalia or Marisol). We start the fic with Buck being invited to go out for celebratory drinks with Connor as he managed to get his wife pregnant without Buck’s donation. Buck is maudlin about how he hasn’t found someone to settle down with and have kids with. He’s pining over Eddie but doesn’t want to upset the apple cart. Eddie talks him into going to have a drink and to close that chapter of his life then come back for a late dinner at Casa Diaz.

Buck is then kidnapped by a stranger who doesn’t tell him want they want from him. When he wakes, he’s in a different, parallel universe where the him in that universe made much different choices. Nobody he considers found family knows him. Meanwhile, the parallel universe’s Buck is taking his place and makes a move on Eddie who has also been silently pining over Buck (they’re two halves of the same idiot).

What will Buck do to get back home and to his Eddie? Will Eddie be happy with the alternate Buck or does he figure out that something’s not right?

The novel this is based on is a thriller but I’d also say it has a romance side to it. What would you do to get back to the one you love?

I am planning on putting Buck and Eddie through the wringer. All the angst and then some smex.

To read what I’ve currently got yeeted, read chapter one and two here on rough trade

And for a little spoiler, this is a line i’m wanting to use in this fic that i came up with a few months ago and has been sitting abandoned in my tidbits folder:

“You told me once to not go chasing waterfalls and I didn’t know what you meant at all. And i did. I chased the damn waterfalls big time and I’m in trouble and I think I need your help. That you’re the only one who can help.”

Stay is another one of those tidbit folders. It’s got… not much in it. Just a bit that i thought of randomly. It doesn’t belong to any fic at the moment. Could become a full fledged one-shot character study, could end up co-opted into something bigger. This is all in the head/POV of Eddie Diaz from 9-1-1. First draft.

Stay. Please stay with me.

Eddie’s used to being left behind by people who are supposed to stick with him. The army? He’d managed to pull his entire team out of a burning helicopter, taken three bullets and they’d forced him out, telling him thanks for his service but he can’t stay with them.

Nowhere to go but home, right?

Texas wasn’t home anymore. Home shouldn’t itch under your skin like a three day old bruise. Adjusting to civilian life after being dumped by the army… he hadn’t handled it well. Eddie could say that not that he had distance and time to reflect on that period of time.

No wonder Shannon hadn’t stayed—he’d been a mess.

Still was, actually. He’s just better at hiding it.

Afterthoughts is a series of codas I’ve been doing while re-watching 9-1-1 during hiatus. I’ve been doing a bad job of keeping up with it and most of this is angsty as hell.

Testifying in court is actually pretty rare for firefighters and if anything, Bobby usually is the one who gets put on the witness stand as captain.

Not this time though.

This time, Buck was the one who got the gun pointed at him and he’s being called to testify because even Chim didn’t hear quite everything Lola said to him.

He told the DA that he wasn’t going to be very helpful. The news camera footage should be enough to plead her out but evidently Lola’s traffic disturbance had upset some important people and they didn’t want it to become a regular occurrence so they wanted jail time.

Jail time for rescuing your marriage? The romantic in Buck actually thought it was kinda sweet—even if he hadn’t enjoyed having a gun pointed at his chest.

So Buck was being called.

As a hostile witness.

Why were they actually going to trial about this again?

Lola had been charged with a PC 647c, aka Obstructing Movement to a Public Place—also known as the freeway. It was a misdemeanor but carried up to 180 days. The DA wanted those 180 days. Was practically salivating over them for some reason. So they were calling Buck and Athena to testify.

If anyone wants to read the posted codas, I’ve broken them into fics by season. Read the completed season one here on AO3 or the partially posted season 2 here.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buddie: One-Shot & Multi-Chapter Fanfics - Hiatus Reading

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Multi-Chapter

6B Speculation

“I gave you a son and a family!” - 60.6K words; Rated Mature:  Eddie tells Buck he already gave him a son and a family and Buck realizes he misunderstood but they stop talking after their argument and they won’t have time to fix it before they almost lose each other again.

After 6x12 Speculation

Come with me to Italy!  - 25.2K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences:  Buck and Eddie take a 10-day trip to Italy so they can heal together but Eddie doesn’t know Buck’s also thinking about relocating to Italy to become a firefighter.

After 6x15 Speculation

“From here on out, it’s all a gift!”- 22.4K words; Rated Teen and Up Audiences:  Buck feels like the person he just met “sees” him for who he is and what he’s been through while Eddie feels alone and admits he doesn’t want to be anymore. Everything they’ve been searching for has been right in front of them for years and the universe is tired of waiting. To help them realize “it’s all a gift”; it hurls another shared trauma in their direction but will it be too late for them to appreciate it?

Season 7 FANON Speculation

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!” Currently 10 chapters are available - 256K words; Rated: Mature: This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!  Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it. But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic. This fic will take Eddie and Buck places the show refuses to go. This is a multi-chapter fic that will be posted one chapter at a time.

One Shots

The Buckley-Diaz Family

Let’s go visit daddy! - 2.1K words; Rated General Audiences:  After a tough call, Eddie visits Buck at the firehouse.

The Buckley-Diaz Family Budget - 7.6K Words; Rated General Audiences:  After completing their weekly grocery shopping and realizing inflation has increased the costs of all the food they usually purchase, Eddie returns home, calls a family meeting and explains to Buck and Chris their family needs to tighten their budget.  But something important happens that prompts Eddie to break the family’s ‘no spend challenge’.

You’re the youngest firefighter to ever make Captain within the LAFD! - 5.6K words; Rated General Audiences: Buck’s nervous about his first day as Captain of the 118 but Eddie’s there to encourage him because he knows Buck can do it.

Married

“Always remember how much I love you!” - 16.2K Words; Rated Mature:  Eddie receives a terminal medical diagnosis but he hides it from Buck.  Buck can tell something’s wrong and when Eddie finally tells him what happened, they work through it together.

“You Mean the World to Me!” -  7.8K Words Rated: Teen and Up Audiences:  After a chance encounter at the scene of an accident, Eddie decides to surprise Buck and they fall even more in love than they already are.

Dating, Engaged & Love Confessions

Let me love you - 3.3K words; Rated General Audiences:  Or Eddie doesn't think he deserves to be loved by Buck but he's wrong and Buck proves just how wrong he is.

I love the way you heat things up in the kitchen - 4.2K words; Rated Mature: Buck is supposed to be teaching Eddie how to bake a cake but they end up leaving the uncooked batter on the counter as things heat up between them.

“Believe half of what you see” - 7.7K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences:  With only a few weeks left until their wedding, Eddie sees Buck having dinner with a woman and he assumes he’s not enough for him and he thinks he never will be. But did he actually see what he thought he saw?  

6x11 Speculation

“You’re my angel... oh angel” (Eddie prays) - 1.9K words; Rated General Audiences:  Eddie can’t lose Buck, his angel and the love of his life.  After Buck’s wheeled into the ER, Eddie goes to the hospital’s chapel to ask, no plead for him to live.

Chris talks to “his Buck” - 2.2K words; Rated General Audiences:  Chris talks to “his Buck/second dad” while Buck's in a coma.

Season 7 FANON Speculation

“You wanna go for the title?” - The Rematch - 7.5K Words; Rated Mature: Eddie asks Buck for a rematch to the video game they played three years ago. However, the stakes are much higher this time because Eddie's playing to win Buck’s heart.

Alone Together - 13.3K Words; Rated: Mature:  While Chris is away at Summer Camp, Eddie plans a weekend getaway for him and Buck because he’s going to prove to him that he does not suck at dating.