#wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to get someone's attention with that shoot

[foryouwereinmysong]

Red Rose Speedway

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc—There are better ways to meet someone.

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main. Soul mates.

---

"Exactly... what does this ring do?" The shining ring was still attached to his finger. This wouldn't worry him if it weren't for the fact that, with each passing minute, the ring emitted more light, and that can't be good.

The cult leader refused to speak. He wouldn't even look at him, seeming particularly attentive to the material the floor was made of. Very funny that now he was scared of him when, an hour ago, he was giving a very cliché speech about how humanity was doomed because it would summon the evil of evils.

It wasn't very smart of him to perform his summoning precisely in Gotham City, home of the Dark Knight.

Red Hood was getting impatient. He placed the hand without the ring on his weapon; if words didn't work, a real threat to his life would. And this didn't really break Bruce's 'no killing' rule because the gun was only loaded with rubber bullets. However, just as he was about to advance and shoot the guy, he saw Batman grab the leader's tunic collar and lift him up.

The man, of course, screamed in fear. "Speak, what does that ring do?" No jokes. Batman's voice was deeper than usual, showing that he was upset, no, rather angry.

Or worried, but Jason could never consider that possibility. For the moment, he was only surprised, although it didn't show through his helmet.

"I-I don't know," the leader replied. Poor guy, he seemed about to cry. Batman, not content, tightened his grip even more; he wasn't willing to tolerate a lie this time.

Red Robin raised an eyebrow. "You managed to gather a bunch of magical artifacts for your summoning and you don't know what they do?"

The man looked away. "No..." The rest of the cult members also looked away. Very brave and stupid of them to all agree to lie to the bats. Jason himself wanted to mock them, but the ring kept shining. He couldn't mock when the ring kept shining and he didn't know what it meant.

From the communications, Robin could be heard. "Tt, this wouldn't be happening if Hood hadn't put on the ring." Jason suppressed a growl.

"Kid, I didn't put on the ring. This thing stuck to me the moment I touched it." It was true. In the middle of the operation to stop the ritual, Jason had pulled the ring, which at that moment was a kind of necklace by the chain that ran through it, from a member who was wearing it. The ring in his hand began to glow and suddenly teleported to his ring finger, then stopped shining. It was when everything calmed down that the ring began to release a different, but constant light.

Approximately ten minutes have passed since then, he thought as he looked at the ring, ignoring all the magical stuff; it was actually a very simple ring. Suddenly, the ring began to blink.

Oh, no. That couldn't be good.

Batman, fed up with the leader's silence and his followers, threw the man meters ahead. "Oracle, call Zatanna now, we need more information about the ring," he ordered as he approached the man who was in pain from the fall. The guy, terrified by the violent aura of the Dark Knight, tried to retreat.

Finally, Nightwing stepped between the man and the brutal beating he would receive if he didn't speak.

"It's okay, B, calm down." With his hand on his father's shoulder, Dick tried to ease the atmosphere. "I understand your concern. We are all worried about what the ring might do to Hood. But we can't let fear and anger control us. Hood is important to all of us. He is our brother, your son. We can't lose our cool now. Let's call Wonder Woman. If no one wants to talk, she can help us with the lasso of truth."

Total silence. Jason didn't know what to say; he didn't think his family would react like this over a blinking ring. That is... he doesn't know. Suddenly, the ring's light began to blink faster.

Batman, after Nightwing's words and seeing the change in the ring, understood that he couldn't waste time with someone who wouldn't talk. "You're right, thank you Nightwing." Looking at the others, he said: "We need to act quickly, we don't know the effects the ring might have on Hood. We need to take him to the cave for a thorough analysis, no discussions." The last part he said looking at Jason. "Until then, don't try to take it off or use it."

Jason scoffed, as if he would.

"Oracle, you heard, call Diana. Red Robin and I will take care of the rest of the cult. Nightwing, take Red Hood to the cave." Batman began giving orders as he reached the leader and began dragging him towards the rest of his cult. The leader, in a failed attempt, tried to resist. "Agent A, please prepare a stretcher. Understood?"

Everyone nodded.

On the other hand, the touching speech and the strange family moment of the bats seemed to soften the heart of a girl from the cult, who in a whisper said: "The ring, nothing will happen to him." Although she spoke quietly, everyone present heard her.

The leader, panicking that the information would be revealed, exclaimed: "Catrina, shut up!" However, he was struck by Batman, who was already fed up with the guy.

"What do you have to say about the ring?" he asked.

The woman hesitated to speak. "We thought of using the ring to subdue the king of the dead and make him listen to our orders..." She paused, not knowing how to continue. "There is a real legend about the ring. A long time ago, a witch wanted to know who her soulmate was, so she created the ring. This allows one to be guided to their soulmate through the red thread. I think everyone already knows what the red thread is." Nervous, she looked around. Only Nightwing nodded, and that was enough for her to continue telling. "Well, the witch's red thread connected with a prince. Unfortunately for everyone, the prince was not happy that his soulmate was a witch. So he had her killed." The girl looked at her hands; that part of the story was sad. "The witch was angry, but still wanted her soulmate to accept her, so she rewrote the ring's original purpose. It was no longer something that united you with your soulmate, but now it was something that allowed you to subdue your soulmate... uh, this." She pointed to a book that was lying in a corner. "With another spell, in fact, it can be used to subdue anyone, even a king of the dead."

With the whole story already told, Red Robin asked: "So, what is the ring doing to Red Hood?"

"It's tracking his soulmate. I... didn't get to put the other spell on it. I could only activate the ring's primary function. Your brother will be fine."

That definitely changes things. Jason swore he could hear his heart beating. A soulmate, wow. He admits he's read many romance novels and maybe once dreamed of it, but for it to actually happen, wow.

Suddenly, the ring stopped blinking. Five seconds later, everyone saw a red thread shoot out from the ring's gem. It quickly moved in one direction, went through the wall, and kept going. The process was like a fishing rod when it catches a fish.

"Does this mean it already found its soulmate?" Red Robin asked. Astonished by the red thread, he tried to touch it but his hand went through it; apparently, the thread was intangible to anyone else.

"Yes," the cultist also seemed astonished.

Jason felt a look on him, turned, it was his brother. Oh no, not that look, he knew that smile; Dick would tease him so much in the coming days. For his part, Batman sighed in relief. Well, it wasn't such an extreme danger, but it was still dangerous. "Agent A, cancel the stretcher." He never imagined this would mean a soulmate case. "Oracle, don't cancel the call to Zatanna or Wonder Woman, we need to verify the information. We'll stay here until the police arrive."

How nice it would be if everything ended like that, right? With Dick joking with Jason, Tim analyzing the thread, Barbara laughing at the turn of events, Bruce relieved and Damian surprised. However, one must remember the story.

The witch changed the ring's original purpose. Unexpectedly, the thread began to retract, as if it had caught something. It did so so quickly that Jason grabbed his hand in pain. It was then that everyone had a bad feeling. The wall the thread had previously passed through suddenly exploded, the noise and dust alerting everyone, especially when once the chaos disappeared, something horrific could be seen.

An arm. A fucking arm. Apparently freshly torn from its owner. Oh, no. What did it do to his soulmate?

...

Somewhere else in the world, somewhere in the United States, Danny gasped in pain. What the hell? What was that? Ancients! Where is his arm?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Edited on 06/21/2024 - Note two: Thanks to redflagshipwriter, who continued this idea below. And to Sakuravalelp who made me laugh with the complement.

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ too busy being yours ❞ ─ a we could be love blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!rossi!reader. summary: you're pretty much in love with your boss. and he's pretty into you too. but if being your boss wasn't bad enough, he's also your dad's best friend. content warnings: valentine's fluff! no romance involved tho. just friends being friends and sleeping into each other's embrace. as friends do. might not be totally inclusive to full italian girls (?). two idiots in love making rossi seem worse than he is. word count: 2k+. a/n: the bau!rossi!verse begins. i never proof read anything.

      Being single during Valentine's Day was already bad, hearing your own father's romantic plans for the evening only made it worse. The humiliating truth of not having the same game as David Rossi was daunting, but you didn't have the Italian vibes to use in your favor like he did, and you were pathetically in love with your boss and that made every single man look awful in comparison.

      "What about you Baby Rossi, any saucy plans for tonight?" Your eyes shoot daggers at Derek for making the question, bringing everyone's attention to your warm cheeks.

      "Apparently I have to look for a ride home, saucy enough?" Your father shrugs with an apologetic glance at your answer, he usually took you home but wouldn't have the time to today. That's what you get for carpooling.

      Between dates and the bar, you were getting out of options and was about to accept your fate: You would have to take the subway. You weren't sure how Spencer did it so often, specially with his particularity with germs and people, you absolutely hated it, it was too tiring, too loud.

      You run up the stairs to get to Hotch's office, handing him your reports, slightly out of breath.

      "You were quick with these." It's a praise with a hidden quip: You were always the last one to hand yours, not only a natural procrastinator, but you were the last one to join the unit, you still struggled with some of the bureaucracy.

      "Trying to avoid rush hour, taking the subway today."

      "I can take you home–" He seems surprised by his own response, or by how quick he offered that ride. Your address is somewhere on your files but he doesn't truly know where you live. He couldn't even shrug it off saying it was on his way home.

      "Don't you have a date? I mean–Wouldn't this make you late for anything?" You hope dearly that you didn't make it obvious that you just wanted to know if he was seeing someone. It's obviously too much to hope for, he knows.

      And he smiles sweetly, softly. He tries his best to keep it innocent. "No plans today, just me, my bed... And some popcorn i think."

      You chew on the inside of your cheeks softly thinking about your next move. Hotchner had slipped through conversation earlier that Jack had a sleepover planned, so by that logic, he would be alone, just like you. 

      He wasn’t exactly subtle about his interest in you, but he somewhat tried to conceal it, asking him out on a date seemed too pushy. 

      “Those are exactly my plans… You could maybe stay over for a bit, then? Maybe?” Your eyes glow with the expectation as you ask him, fingers busy with your necklace to soothe yourself. “We might have to pick Garcia up at some point of the night, though, if that’s okay.” You were always tasked with drunk Penelope anytime you bailed on them as a punishment. 

      You didn’t mind, drunk Garcia was fun Garcia, but if Aaron accepted your invitation, you hoped there wouldn’t be any interruptions. 

      Movies and popcorn are innocent enough, that’s the first thing on his mind, it can be innocent, and even when he tries to talk himself down of what could lead to very bad bad choices, your mention of Garcia tips him over the edge. It was just friends hanging out. Definitely. 

      “Yeah… I mean, yeah sure, that sounds fun. I have to keep myself awake until later than usual in case Jack calls me anyway.” You nod more to yourself and offer him a shy smile, just before he hands you more papers. “Oh yeah–You’ve got yourself a few more work hours, though.”

      The ride to your place is anything but silent. Your phone keeps buzzing, signaling the BAU gals group chat wants details of what’s happening but you and Aaron barely notice it as conversation flows easily between you two.

      You ask him about Jack’s sleepover and the sleeping later ordeal and he tells you how on his first sleepover Jack gave up and called him to pick him up at almost 1am. “When the fun was over he just wanted his bed. Driving the moment I woke was a terrible experience.” 

      That was years ago and he still waits for that clock to hit 1AM before sleeping. Just in case his baby needs him.

      You can feel your insides turn into mush, the way he cares always from the smallest to the biggest ways reminding you of why falling for him was so desperately easy. “That’s incredibly sweet of you, Aaron.”  

      The informality catches him off guard, but he welcomes it, loving the way his name sounds leaving your lips. “He’s a sweet kid, much more cooperative than drunk Garcia, I can assure you.” 

      You laugh at his joke and it’s silent for mere seconds before he finally asks the question, the one question on his mind since you walked into his office earlier. Why? Why don’t you have a date? Why aren’t you at the bar? How can you even be single?

      “I don’t have a lot of free time, Aaron. I’m… Busy.” You both know that’s not a lie. But you could try to make time if you were interested, you could’ve gone out today. Unfortunately, when you found yourself having feelings for someone, you couldn’t bring yourself to look for someone else. All the other men seemed so incredibly dull compared to the one taking you home, and you couldn’t but compare when you were with any other. 

      “You had free time tonight.” He’s pushing it and he knows it. He shouldn’t be asking so many questions about your dating life, he shouldn’t pry when he knew himself well enough to be certain he wouldn’t make any moves on you. Younger, beautiful, funny, smart… And the daughter of his closest friend. All the reasons he was so smitten were also the reasons he told himself he shouldn’t lead you on. 

      You deserved someone your age, with no baggage, or at least one lighter than his. Someone with more time to spare, who could take your mind out of the job and not keep you on it. And definitely someone who didn’t go to jazz clubs with your father. 

      Still, his hands are firm on the wheel, turning left to get to your home. 

      “I’m not wasting my free time on guys I meet at bars on Valentine’s Day.” He smirks, finding a good spot to park his car without saying anything else. He’s delighted by your answers even though it isn’t fair.

      He gets ready to leave the car but you stop him, tapping his thigh lightly (it sends shivers up his spine but he’s getting good at pretending not to feel it). “Better get your go bag.” You see confusion on his eyes and that known furrowed brow directed at you. “You’re not gonna be comfortable in a suit. You can change to your spare.”

      He hadn’t thought about that, it would definitely defy the purpose of a quiet relaxing movie night if he was all dressed up in his well known work attire. So he does as instructed and gets his go bag from the backseat, even though he’s getting more and more anxious by the second. The innocent friends movie night he made himself believe looking more and more like he was sleeping over. 

      You give him the tour of your apartment–a gift from your dad when you graduated from the academy, not that anyone really needed to know how spoiled you were–and show him the bathroom where he could change. Or shower. He has his go bag after all. 

      You go to your room to do just that, trying not to let the thoughts of him possibly being naked and under your shower flood your mind as you take the quickest shower you’ve ever taken in your life. 

      As you move from your own bathroom to your closet to get your pajamas you’re suddenly very aware of what’s really happening. You really did invite him to your apartment. This was a date. But it couldn’t be a date, did he see it as a date? Being so very infatuated by him and knowing well he had some sort of interest in you was very very different than acting on it. Your dad would kill you if he knew. And Aaron. And you again, possibly, if he knew it was your doing to initiate it. 

      Instead of your usual thin fabric short shorts and tank top you wear to sleep, you decide to be decent, black silk loose pants, old university t-shirt, cotton robe, socks and fluffy slippers. Anything that could maybe show you are totally just thinking about watching some fun movies with a friend. 

      You take two blankets and two pillows with you as you leave your bedroom, the sound of the shower being turned off making your feet almost run to get everything ready. The couch turning into a bed with a bit of struggle to unfold it. You made sure each blanket and pillow were on each side of it, as far as possible from each other. 

      Popcorn! You need to make popcorn, that’s the first thing you think when you hear the door unlocking, going straight for the kitchen and putting a bag on your microwave. As it popped you got cheese strings and butter out of your fridge. If you couldn’t blow his mind in better ways, you could at least get him hooked to your special cheesy buttered popcorn. 

      “I’m making myself way too comfortable, I think.” His voice is smooth and relaxed and when you look back he’s leaning into the frame, his hair is wet and he’s wearing matching black sweatpants and a hoodie you’ve never seen him wear. 

      For a moment you just want to kiss him and forget about any debate morality could bring to ruin it, but instead you laugh and take the popcorn out of the microwave and drop its content into a bowl, spreading some butter on top and dropping a few strings of cheese on it before putting the bowl on the microwave. 

      “Casa mia è casa tua.” Your Italian is a bit rusty but it still works as a charmer, “Go pick us the most terrible looking romcom you can find while I finish this.”

      “Romcom, huh?” He asks and you can just hear the teasing in his tone. 

      “You didn’t think we were going for some documentary, right?” You use a spoon to mix the popcorn to the melted butter and cheese when it’s out of the microwave, and follow him to the living room, “We’re gonna eat this cheesy, buttered, absolutely heart-swelling popcorn and make fun of some terrible, terrible movie love tropes.”

      You do just that, and it’s awkward at first, the both of you wanting to be closer but also not feeling like you should cross that barrier, but as the night went on, the more you shared that popcorn, the more laughs you shared, the closer you got on that couch, specially after he tried to rub his greased fingers on your face, making you do the same to him. 

      One movie becomes two, and then three, and somewhere in between him telling you about the dates he would take Haley as a teen, making you laugh at how sweet and romantic he always was, and you telling him about your first kiss and how terrible it was, you both fall asleep. Your head on his chest, his arms around you. 

      Jack doesn’t call, and if Emily tried to get you to pick up Garcia you definitely didn’t see it. 

      It’s the first time you both share such an intimate moment, and it is just that. Sleeping in each other’s arms. Aaron even wakes up in the middle of the night, 3AM striking on the clock on your wall. He wasn’t even able to freak out and overthink anything about it, the comfort of your smell making him hug you tighter and close his eyes again. 

      He could deal with it in the morning.

[aphroditeinthesea]

“ guilty as sin ”

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

if there’s no such as thing as bad thoughts, why is y/n feeling so guilty? | pt. 2

⚠️ cheating, swearing, breaking girl code, make out, sexual insinuation & while i was posting this there was random lightning and thunder so took that as a sign that this was pretty good

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first thing Y/N noticed about Jason was his girlfriend. Okay, maybe that wasn't the first thing, but it was up there. Maybe the first thing she noticed was his hair, the way that sun shined around it, making his aura glow. Or maybe it was the way his eyes were so vibrant that she felt like she was drowning in the Blue Nile. Or, gods, his muscles. The way his shirt was barely able to conceal his abs. Then, his absolutely beautiful girlfriend, who surprise, surprise, was a daughter of Aphrodite.

Of course she knew she had to keep these feelings locked inside a vault. Especially at how she so easily befriended Piper, who if she knew about these feelings, would have Y/N’s head. But how was she supposed to? Whenever she saw him, basically doing nothing, her mind already had images of him flashing in her mind that she tried so desperately to flick away.

But once the feelings had gotten too intense, she had to tell someone. So she turned to the wisest person she knew, Annabeth Chase. She decided to walk to the Athena cabin after training. She found the blonde reading a book on her bed. She approached her, speaking up, “hey, can we talk?” she looked around, “privately?”

Annabeth nodded before leaving alongside Y/N. She led her to cabin 3, which was uninhabited since the disappearance of Percy.

“What’s wrong?” Annabeth began.

Y/N sighed before explaining the ordeal to the girl. Excluding certain fantasies about the boy that not even Zeus himself could get her to confess.

“As a girlfriend of a guy who everyone has a crush on,” she began, seeming annoyed at her own statement, “don't act on it.”

Y/N nodded, “yeah, I could never act on it, I mean, Piper’s my friend,” she paused and looked up at the daughter of Athena, “I’m not a bad person am I?”

“There’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.”

But after a few months. After they found out the memories were fake, that Jason was a Roman demigod, that there was no relationship to begin with, Y/N had the guilty hope that they would break up. But no. Instead they continued dating? She was furious, while also hating herself every second of every day. She had thought that maybe after all this time the feelings would go away. But they didn't! They wouldn't! They couldn't!

Every time she saw the two of them together, she wanted to vomit. Especially when they’d act all couple-like and kissing and hugging and standing within a ten foot radius.

One day at archery practice, she was about to shoot, when she saw the couple walking nearby. She immediately sunk into herself. She drew back her arrow, sulking, until she heard a loud, “ow, fuck!”

She looked up, realizing that she had accidentally shot the foot of the son of Apollo that had been helping her. She gasped, “oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”

He sat on the grass, holding onto his bleeding foot, “dont worry about it,” he hissed through the pain. A few other campers ran over to help him over to the infirmary.

She awkwardly looked around, unsure of what to do.

“What happened, Y/N?” The sound of Piper’s voice behind her caught her attention.

She paused, looking up at the blond boy before back to Piper, “I got distracted and, uhm, accidentally shot him.”

“Is he okay?” Jason questioned.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she brushed off, “a little arrow in the foot never killed anyone.”

“Achilles would beg to differ,” he remarked with a smirk. Gods, that was going to be the death of her, The way his scar curved with his mouth. She liked to imagine he got the scar in a battle to the death against a Roman beast- or whatever, she didn't really understand what happened at that camp, other than the fact that they had really hot guys.

She must have been staring for too long as Piper looked back up at her boyfriend herself, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N panicked, “I should go see if he’s okay,” she ran off to the direction of the infirmary.

“You shot someone in the foot?!”

“Annabeth, I really don't feel like talking about this right now.”

“No, Y/N,” she stood in front of Y/N, “why?”

“Jason-”

Annabeth shook her head, “he has a girlfriend.”

“I know, that’s the problem-”

“She’s not the problem, Y/N,” the girl interrupted again, “you're being so immature, you have to get over this.”

Y/N turned around to see Piper and Jason laughing about something. She looked back at Annabeth, “I’ll try.”

That next week, she had gotten a date with a son of Hermes. It was a nice date, too. A picnic on the dock during the campfire.

“I was originally born in Minnesota, but then we moved to New Hampshire-” his voice was drowned out by her thoughts. She felt so… faithful to Jason. If it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow? She felt like he had written ‘mine’ on her upper thigh in her mind- “what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve never been to Michigan.”

He raised an eyebrow, “I asked if you liked strawberries?”

“Oh,” she looked at the strawberry she had accidentally crushed in her hand, “yeah.”

“You don't like me, do you?”

She shook her head, “no, nothing with you. You're great, this picnic is amazing, I’m just… I am so in love with one of my best friends’ boyfriend. I’m just trying to get over him.”

“Jason?”

She looked at him, her mouth agape, “how did you…?”

“A good guess.”

She hid her face in her hands, tears welling in her eyes, “am I allowed to cry?”

He pulled her into a hug, “go talk to him.”

New advice? She’ll take it!

She stood up, “I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, promise!” she claimed before running off to the fire. Everyone was beginning to disperse, when the blond hair caught her eye. She rushed over to him, “I need to talk to you.”

He looked confused, but nodded, leading her into his cabin, “what’s up?”

“I have a huge fucking crush on you,” she blurted, “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. And I thought that if I told you, it would go away. I’m sorry.”

He stayed silent for a minute, thinking. He ran his fingers through his hair. Did everything about him have to be this fucking hot?

“I have a girlfriend.”

“I know.”

He shook his head, “no, I need to remind myself of that. Y/N,” he walked closer to her, taking her hands in his, “I really like you, Y/N.”

She let out a deep breath, “Jason, that doesn't help.”

“It doesn't help me either, that’s why I’ve been trying to ignore it, but,” his right hand let go of hers, finding its way to her lips, “look at you.” He slowly leaned down to kiss her. Once, twice, thrice, four- over and over again. She wasn't even sure when she was suddenly pinned to his bed as their kisses got messier. His fingers traced the skin under her shirt, sending shivers down her spine, gasping when he would zap her.

“Jase,” she breathed, “this is really bad.”

He bit her bottom lip, “I know, we shouldn't-”

She kissed him again, “no.”

He leaned back, “Y/N, we really can’t.”

“I know, I know,” she heavily breathed, “but what are you saying?”

He stood up, forcing his glasses back on, “I need to go talk to Piper,” he grabbed her hand, helping her up, “go back to your cabin, let’s just forget about this.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please, we can talk some other time, but please, just go for now.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes, “right, okay,” she followed behind as he walked to the door, opening it for her. She looked up at him, “goodnight, Jason.”

He gently touched her arm, “goodnight.”

She walked out feeling shame and guilt fill her body. She felt it in all her limbs, making it hard for her to walk, feeling pulled down by her emotions, she wondered, without ever touching his skin, how could I be guilty as sin?

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 13 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12

Chapter Summary: It's back to work for you and your boys, but it wouldn't be the 118 if there weren't a few bumps in the road — or prisoners in the ambulance.

Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: violence

You’re good at a lot of things, but keeping secrets isn’t one of them. When the Christmas season rolls around, you can’t buy gifts too far in advance because if you do, all you can think about is telling the person what you got them. If someone asks, “Can we keep this between us?” you start to sweat a little. If someone catches you in a lie, it doesn’t take much for them to get the information out of you.

This is the biggest secret of your life. It involves everyone you care about in at least some way. You really don’t want to fuck it up.

Everyone knows you and Buck are dating. They know you’re living together. What they don’t know is that you’ve spent the last three months living with Eddie. They don’t know that you and Buck are also dating Eddie and that he’s dating both of you.

They don’t care that you and Buck are dating. Would they care that the three of you are dating? You aren’t sure. But the thought of revealing it ties your intestines into knots and makes your heart beat a little faster.

You all decided that, for now, it would be best to act like nothing is going on. Eddie is just getting back to work after the shooting, and the last thing he needs is for the transition back to be even harder.

Eddie Diaz is a secret worth keeping; you just can’t help but wonder if he doesn’t want to be kept. It isn’t exactly fair that you and Buck get to go on like normal, leaving him in the shadows. Eddie’s assured you both many times that he doesn’t feel left out — that he gets it. It doesn’t untie any of the knots in your stomach, though.

And then there’s the Christopher thing.

He’s a smart kid, smart enough to know that something is going on. You and Buck visited at least once a week before the shooting, so it’s not like your recent presence tilted the world on its axis. You definitely never spent this much time, though. And the more comfortable you’re getting in the relationship, the less careful you’re getting.

More than once, Christopher has walked into the living room when your legs are in Eddie’s lap or his arm is around your shoulders. Eddie quickly corrects the positioning, gently moving your legs or lifting his arm. All of his focus shifts to his son in a matter of seconds, like you aren’t even sitting next to him. Chris always spares you a few extra glances, but he doesn’t say anything.

Overall, though, everything and everyone is comfortable. Or, at the bare minimum, you have no reason to believe otherwise.

The four of you are sitting around the kitchen table, silently enjoying dinner. Christopher decides to break the silence.

“Are you going to be my new mom?”

You nearly choke on your drink. You cough a few times, and Buck pats your back in silent reassurance. You can’t look away from Eddie, who’s sitting across from you and next to his son.

His mouth is slack open in surprise, but he recovers quickly. He angles his chair to Christopher, clearing his throat. “What makes you ask that, buddy?”

“You help me get ready like a mom. You make dinner like a mom. You’re here a lot, like a mom.”

It sounds so simple when he lays it out like that, so simple that it’s almost impossible to refute. But… you’re supposed to refute it, right?

“I’m… your dad’s friend,” you eventually say. “I care about you both a lot.”

Chris stares at you, considering this. Eddie does the same.

“Maybe that’s better than having a mom,” Chris says, then continues to eat.

You see the tension in Eddie’s shoulders evaporate. He lets out a breath he probably didn’t even realize he was holding.

Buck isn’t entirely satisfied with that answer, though.

“Chris, why would that be better?” Buck asks. His tone is a little hesitant, but even as a parallel line.

“My mom died, and I miss her,” Chris answers simply. “I don’t want her to die, too. I don’t want to miss anyone else.”

It’s been over a year since Shannon’s accident — a whole year of Christopher’s life without his mother. The worst part about it is it can’t be fixed. Eddie’s told you how Shannon left and how hard it was to let her back into their son’s life. He did, though, because he thought it would be best for everyone. She was gone, but Eddie brought her back. He can’t bring her back again, and it’s probably killing him.

You rub your lips together in contemplation. “You know, Chris, my mom died too.”

Chris looks at you with wide eyes. “Really?”

He sounds so hopeful about having this in common with you. It makes your chest ache.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “She died when I was a baby. I don’t remember her, but I still miss her. And it hurts, missing your mom, but it won’t hurt forever. One day, you’ll be able to think of her, and it won’t hurt. And until then, I’ll be here. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

The first call you work as a triad is a fucking doozy.

You’re called to Jamestown State Prison, where a riot is underway. That’s not why the 118 is there, though; the prisoners started some fires, and it’s your job to put them out. Both Buck and Eddie suggested you stay behind, that you probably wouldn’t be needed. You felt your face flush red and were greeted with suspicious looks from Bobby, Chimney, and especially Hen. You brushed them off, said that you can take care of yourself.

Now that you’re actually here, though, you kind of wish you listened to your boyfriends.

The team has to be ushered around the building by four men in total SWAT gear. You’re taken through automated doors and down long hallways, most of which have blood splatters on the wall and random debris scattered throughout. You finally make it to the HVAC corridor, where the primary fire is burning.

“Buck, Eddie, put up a water curtain,” Bobby instructs.

You survey the room and notice that the top of the walls are lined with fans. “Cap, they’re going to keep sucking smoke up into the system.”

He looks at the fans, then back at you. “Find the killswitch, let me know when you got it.”

You nod once and start walking along the wall. You’re up to date on your firefighting certification, but when you actually find yourself decked out in all the gear, it’s as if that part of your brain short-circuits. You never want to find yourself in an important role when it comes to firefighting. Finding a killswitch, though? You could do that in your sleep.

You quickly find a grey box with a red switch on it. With a little force, you pull it down, and you can hear the equipment shut down. “Got it!”

The boys put out the fire a few minutes later, and the team is ready to move out. Three of your four escorts had to take off and help control a different area, leaving you with one guard to walk you all out.

As you make your way back through a random room, you hear a strange sound. It stops you dead in your tracks.

“Did you guys hear that?” You ask, looking around. “Someone’s here.”

“No, this area is secure,” the guard says.

You disregard his response, instead following the sound. You turn the corner and see two men laying on the floor, side by side.

“Over here!” you shout, sliding your medi-bag off your shoulder as you approach the men.

They’re in blue and white clothes, similar to scrubs — prisoners. Due to their injuries, however, they’re hardly a threat. Both of their faces are bloodied and swollen. One has a decent laceration to the abdomen, while the other has a nasty upper airway sound.

“Airway is compromised,” you verbalize, gently palpating his neck. “I think his trachea is crushed.”

“Leave ‘em, they’re scumbags,” the guard retorts.

“We’re not leaving anyone,” Bobby protests. “ Let's get 'em up and out. No time for gurneys.”

Buck and Eddie help carry the airway patient while Bobby and Hen take care of the laceration patient. The guard leads you all out, and you’re hot on his heels. You hate to think what would happen if you got separated from the group.

You make it to the last hallway when Hen starts shouting.

“Stop, stop stop! He’s having a seizure,” she shouts, planting her feet in place.

The final gate opens, and you look back at Bobby, who’s helping lower the prisoner to the ground.

“You three go, we’ll be right behind you.”

You swallow. “Captain-”

“That’s an order!” He cuts you off. “Go!”

You make it to the last door. The guard keeps it propped open as Buck and Eddie walk out. You’re already rushing to the rig to get the gurney out.

“I gotta get back in there,” he explains. “Protocol says you need two guards with you. Don’t leave without an escort, all right?”

“Copy that,” you say as you pull the gurney out.

Moments after the three of you settle the patient, two officers in green jackets are at the back of the rig. You gesture for one to come in, while Buck hops out and leads the other to the front.

A few minutes into the ride, Buck turns off the sirens. You frown, looking towards the cab in confusion. When you turn back around, one of the ‘officers’ is pointing his gun at you.

“I can’t thank you three enough,” he says. “I’ve waited 18 years to get the hell out of that place.”

Buck pulls over, and the three of you are ushered out of the rig at gunpoint.

“Okay, so you broke out… what now?” Eddie asks.

The shorter prisoner says nothing as he rifles through Eddie’s pockets.

“The patient in there,” you continue, tilting your chin to the ambulance, “is that your handiwork?”

He moves on to you, a sick smile on his face as he digs through your pockets. He comes back with your phone and wallet. He walks back to the rig to talk to his co-conspirator.

“What do we do?” Buck asks in a low voice.

“Don’t know yet,” Eddie responds.

“Maybe they just want the ambulance?”

“Then why would they search us?” you counter. “There’s three of us, and two of them.”

“Cute kid,” one of the prisoners interrupts. He holds up a picture of Chris, the one Eddie keeps in his wallet. “Yours? I’m guessing he lives with you at 4995 South Bedford Street?”

Buck steps forward. “Hey, man, don’t even-”

The other prisoner pistol-whips him.

“Okay, so now that we're all on the same page, here's what's gonna happen next.”

With the boys’ help, the prisoners locate the GPS in the rig and remove it, leaving it on the side of the road. The three of you are forced into the back of the ambulance while one of them drives.

You keep staring at the prisoner. It probably isn’t the best idea, considering his gun is aimed at you. You can’t help it, though. He looks… familiar.

“I know you,” you say.

He frowns and scoffs out a laugh. “What?”

“I’ve seen you somewhere,” you continue, still observing his features.

The patient starts to sputter. Eddie turns his head to the side, and you reach for the suction without prompting.

“...Trent, something,” you say as you hand Eddie the suction catheter. You don’t look away from the prisoner. “Am I right?”

He breaks eye contact.

“You’re on death row,” you say, nodding as you get more confident. “Yeah, you were convicted of triple homicide.”

“He can’t protect his airway,” Eddie observes as he moves the suction catheter around. “We need to intubate.”

“Almost there, Mitch,” the man driving chimes in.

Buck looks out the window, his brow furrowing. “Wait, you guys are serious? We’re really going to a hospital?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” Mitch mocks. “You’re so concerned about the health of your friend here. Now you can walk him through the front door.”

“Initiating RSI,” you say, ignoring the arguing men around you. “Eddie, start bagging, I’ll get the meds.”

You and Eddie intubate smoothly, like you have countless times. You push the meds, Eddie waits about 45 seconds before moving the BVM and replacing it with a Mac blade. He advances the tube and pulls the guidewire, and as he attaches the bag valve to the tube, you hover your stethoscope over the patient’s lungs. Eddie administers a breath, and you can hear it. You move to the other side and listen before pulling the stethoscope from your ears.

“Breath sounds bilateral,” you say, slinging your stethoscope around your neck. “Nice work.”

“Very nice work,” Mitch agrees, though he doesn’t sound genuine. “Now you two,” he says, gesturing between you and Buck, “get him inside.”

“Hey, man, listen, I don't know what you want, but there is a hospital full of sick people…” Buck protests.

“Just go, or I’ll shoot you,” Mitch states. “Or her. Or him. And then I find his kid, and I shoot him too.”

“Buck,” Eddie says simply. His tone leaves no room for argument.

You lean over to make eye contact with Eddie. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

He looks up and down your face before nodding. “I’ll see you later.”

You and Buck get the patient inside. You’re escorted by Mitch’s co-conspirator, Dom. Once you get into the ER, it’s a ghost town; no one’s at the front desk, and the triage bay is empty of both staff and patients. A sense of dread pools into the base of your stomach. The dread is replaced with realization when you get tackled to the floor.

“I’m a paramedic!” you shout after saying your name. “I’m with the 118. That’s Evan Buckley, he’s a firefighter. Get the hell off of me!”

You hear Athena shout your name, then Buck’s. “Those two are good, let them up.”

The officers turn you around and offer you a hand, helping you to your feet as they apologize.

“Are you two okay?” Athena asks.

You look over Buck. He’s got a good injury to his left temple from where he was pistol-whipped; where the skin isn’t broken, it’s bruising red and purple. His head is probably pounding.

“We’re good,” Buck confirms. “How’d you know we were coming here?”

“We figured out why Mitchell broke out,” Athena explains. “Where is he?”

“Still in the ambulance,” you say, “with Eddie.”

After a while of radio static, you convince Buck to let you check him out. He’s sitting on an ER gurney, and you’re standing beside him, crossing a penlight through his vision.

“All he wants is to donate his heart,” Buck mumbles. “Why won’t they just let him?”

“You heard them, Buck: it’s against the law,” You respond, pocketing your pen. You hold out your index fingers. “Squeeze.”

He does as he’s told, and his strength is equal, just like his pupils. You can rule out a hemorrhage or hematoma of any kind, though you aren’t convinced he doesn’t have a concussion.

“Any nausea? Dizziness?” you ask, folding your arms across your chest.

“No, just a killer headache,” Buck says.

“Not surprising,” you chuckle.

You don some gloves and pick up a swab. You swipe the antiseptic over the cut on Buck’s face. He winces for a second, then goes back to wringing his hands together. You apply a bandaid, then use one hand to tilt his chin up so you can look him in the eye.

“Eddie will be okay,” you promise softly.

“How do you know that?”

“Because he’s always okay.”

You hear a single gunshot.

You find yourself running through the ER and out the front doors, Buck only a few paces behind you. You’re both screaming Eddie’s name, and you don’t stop until you can see him.

He’s at the back of the rig, crouching over Mitch as he does chest compressions.

Eddie makes eye contact with you. “Go get the crash cart.”

“What the hell happened?” You ask, panting.

“He shot himself. The bullet hit his brain. Go tell the hospital they need a crash team out here. They need to prep an OR.”

“Eddie, he’s dead,” Buck says.

“But his heart isn’t, and I need it to stay that way,” Eddie explains. “Go!”

Buck runs back into the hospital, shouting for help. You kneel opposite of Eddie, locking your hands together.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” you tell him.

“198, 199, 200,” Eddie says.

You quickly take over compressions, counting under your breath.

Athena and her boss find a loophole, and Mitch is able to donate his heart to his son, Nolan. They started surgery hours ago, and you wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few more hours to go.

You look over at Eddie, who’s sitting beside you. You nudge your knee against his. He looks up, and you smile.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

Eddie sighs and runs a hand down his face before nodding. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“He told you about his plan,” you say. It isn’t a question. If Eddie hadn’t known, he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of trying to ‘save’ Mitch.

“Yeah, he did.”

“And you went along with it,” you continue. “Why?”

Eddie frowns. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because he threatened to kill you, and me, and Buck, and your son. I think that’s four good reasons right there.”

Eddie averts his gaze. “After he told me his plan… he stopped being a prisoner. Or, at least, I stopped seeing him as one. He was just a dad trying to save his kid. God knows I would do the same for Chris.”

“Well, I think you’d have some competition,” you say lightheartedly. You lean forward to see Buck in the chair nect to Eddie. His legs are extended and his shoulders scrunched to his neck as he dozes off.

“Yeah, I definitely would,” Eddie agrees with a smile. He rubs his hands over his legs before standing. “I’m getting coffee. Want some?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you say with a smile.

Eddie walks off. Hen quickly takes his seat.

“Hey,” she greets, settling into the chair.

“Hey,” you return. “How did things shake out at Jamestown?”

Hen grins. “I got to perfrom surgery.”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously,” she laughs joyfully. “End-to-end anastomosis of the splenic artery.”

“On the guard you and Cap rescued?”

She nods. “Sounds like he’ll be making a full recovery.”

You raise your hand for a high-five. “Way to go, Dr. Wilson.”

She grins and slaps your hand before holding and squeezing it. You both laugh and grin.

Hen continues holding your hand, running her thumb over the back of it. “Can I ask you something?”

You smile. “Of course.”

“Are you dating Eddie?”

You heart jumps into your throat. “I’m dating Buck.”

“Are you also dating Eddie?”

The way she phrases it makes it sound so… simple. God, you wish it were that simple.

The more that you think about it, though… why isn’t it that simple? All the random details are yours to work through with your partners behind closed doors. When it comes to your work and personal life, why can’t you simply be dating two guys who are also dating each other?

“We aren’t telling people yet,” you whisper. “But… yes. Buck and I are dating Eddie.”

Hen’s eyes widen and her eyebrows raise. “Both of you?”

Your heart goes from your throat up to your head and pounds mercilessly. Maybe she isn’t cool with it like you thought she’d be. The idea of that makes your stomach sick and your limbs numb.

“Well, it’s about damn time.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “You sure you’re okay with it?”

“Are you happy? All three of you?”

You nod.

“I love you all, and if you make each other happy, then why wouldn’t I be okay with it?”

Your eyes well with tears; you didn’t realize how badly you needed to hear someone you love say that. Your secret is out, and it doesn’t matter. You couldn’t be happier.

You pull Hen into a hug. It’s a little awkward since you’re both sitting, but you don’t care, and neither does she.

[supercap2319]

Spiderwebs & Red chaos

Peter was working on the Sandman cure, when he stops abruptly, eyes darting back and forth in nervous anticipation. Something—someone has triggered his spider-sense. He stood up, catching the attention of Otto Octavius, and Norman Osborn.

“Peter?” Otto asked.

“What’s wrong?” Norman asked.

Their voices were distant and disoriented as Peter walked towards Happy's kitchen/living room. “I don't know…” It was true. Peter didn't know exactly what he was sensing, all he knew was that it made his heart want to burst out of his chest, and made his breathing shallow.

“May? Y/N?” He calls out loud. Norman and Otto followed him into the living room kitchen area as Peter stands in the center of the villains. “What is it, Peter?” May asked, wondering why her nephew is so troubled. The young hero’s breath was hitched and shallow as he looked around the room, the tension in the air thick enough to cut through with a knife, getting to everyone.

“What's happening?” Flint Marko asked.

Peter looks at him, then at Otto and Norman, who moves around the room, and then at Max Dillon, who looks uneasy at the hero's eyes on him.”Why are you looking at me like that?” Peter searches, on alert. What is he sensing? Is one of

them about to betray him? Where is the threat? Was he losing his mind? All these questions buzzed inside his head like angry bees. He closed his eyes and focused his spider-sense. Reaching. Feeling. Until he…

THWIP!

Peter webs Norman's hand to the robot arm of DUM-E.

Norman smiles. “That’s some neat trick. That sense of yours.” His voice was low and ominous.

“Norman?” Otto asked.

“Norman’s on sabbatical, honey.” Norman said, a gleefully undertone in his smile.

“What the hell?” Max asked.

“Goblin…” Y/N whispered in realization. Peter and May share a look of concern.

“Surprise. No more darker half? Did you really think that I’d let that happen?” Aunt May slips quickly into the storage room, searching for the cures as Norman, aka, Goblin, continues his tirade. “That I’d let you take away my power just because you’re blind to what true power can bring you. Because you and Y/N squander the potential that you have.”

“You don't know us.” Peter said, staring Goblin down.

“Don’t I?” Goblin asked.

“No, you don't.” Y/N talked towards Peter's side, fingers twitching with power, but he wouldn't release it. Not just yet.

“Here's the real truth: the people of this city. There's one thing they love more than a hero... is to see a hero fail, fall, die trying. In spite of everything you've done for them, eventually they will hate you. Why bother?”

“Because it's right.” Peter said.

Meanwhile, May grabs the cures, one-by-one, and shoves them into her F.E.A.S.T. tote bag.“I saw how she trapped you two.” Goblin begins as May sneaks back into the kitchen from the storage room, clutching the bag of cures. She nods at Peter. She has them. “Fighting her holy moral mission. We don’t need you to save us... We don’t need to be “fixed!”

Sandman frowns as Goblin looks around the room of people he does, and doesn't know. “These are not curses.” Max looks down at his cure device. Beep! Another green light flashes on the device. Two more to go.

“Norman, no.” Otto protests.

“Quiet, lapdog!” Goblin snaps.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter said.

“I’ve watched you from deep behind Norman’s cowardly eyes. Struggling to have everything you want. While the world tries to make you choose. The Spider-Man and the brother of the Scarlet Witch, so desperate to have it all.” The device on Electro’s chest beeps once again. Only one more

light to go…

“Gods don’t have to choose.” Max looks at Norman, now really buying in… “We take.”

“You're no God, Goblin. You're sick.” Y/N said.

“Guess we'll find out…”

“May... RUN!” Peter said. May breaks for the door with the bag of cures. Electro takes the cure device off his chest, as Goblin tears free from the web holding him to DUM-E. Shooting electricity out, Electro reaches towards the storage room…

CRASH!

The Arc Reactor tears free from the Fabricator,

bursts through the kitchen wall, and flies into Electro’s hand as there is surgical electrical

contact happening. “Hey!” Y/N powered up his fist that glowed red with power, but Electro blasts him into the wall, crashing upon impact.

“Y/N!” Peter cried.

Goblin pounces on a distracted Peter, smashing him into the nearby stairs.Seeing this, Sandman disintegrates into a whirl of sand. Retreating. Down the hallway, May runs to the elevators, pressing the “down” button over and over again Electro surges with ARC Reactor power, supercharging his powers as he causes lights throughout the condo building to flicker on and off. May looks up, the hallway lights are flickering here too. As she pushes the elevator “down” button once more.

Doc Ock looks at Electro in horror. “Oh my God. What have you done?”

Electro scoffed. “I liked you better before.” He unleashes a Stark-grade cascade of electricity, blowing Otto back through the living room wall. Otto tears through glass and steel, plummeting to the ground below before finally coming to a

wrenching stop, his tentacle arms gripping the side of the building. Down in the plaza of the condo, J. Jonah directs his camera man upward.

“Up here, he’s up there!” The camera man points his camera towards the building just in time to capture Doc Ock climbing away, disappearing into the night. “It’s the guy from the bridge!”

In the stairwell, Aunt May heads for the emergency exit door, races downstairs.

Electro and the swirling cloud of sand that is Sandman approach the burst-open living room wall. Sandman propels himself forward, Electro following after he powers up with his new source of energy. The sand swirls around the police cars, rocking them back and forth as Max Dillon transforms into pure yellow lightning, hitching a ride on the tornado of sand. The shelter truck nearby rocks violently. The side of it being slashed, until the Lizard explodes out of the hole he cut open and runs off.

J. Jonah James looks at his camera guy. “...Did you see that?!” Police and bystanders scramble for cover as Electro and Sandman take to the wind and fly off.

Meanwhile, back in Happy’s apartment, Peter scrambled to help Y/N to his feet. Peter manages to get his boyfriend upward as they both turn to see Goblin staring at them, challenge in his eyes. “Y/N, find May. Protect her.” Peter said.

“No, not without you.” Y/N said. “We'll face him together.”

“No. Please, just do this for me. I need you to keep her safe. Promise?” Peter looks at him, vulnerability in his brown eyes. Y/N nods and begrudgingly heads for the door. “I promise.” He flies off, a red trail of energy behind him until he was gone.

“Perfect. Just you…and me…” Goblin cackled.

Peter charged.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Date me? —(Ron Weasley xGN!Reader)

A/N: I never write for my boy it's time I change that. Will do a part two if most of you ask for it leaving a comment or reblogging! -Danny Summary: Lazy afternoon with your friend who you're definitely not crushing on. Words: 821

Warnings: This is basically a 'hear me out' one-shot between friends Twoidiots Masterlist

You could always count on Ron to have the best treats. You could also always count on him when you wanted to sit around and do nothing. Today, you two have decided to do nothing in the common room.

Hermione had gone off with Neville and Hannah Abbott to finish some extra work only they would be eager to finish on a Sunday, and Harry was somewhere in the castle with Ginny, which left the two of you with little to do, not that you were complaining.

"What if the Giant has a nice complexion?"

"I'm still not shagging the giant, Y/N," Ron snorted. You had been going at this 'what if' game for hours, first starting with classmates you knew, but now you'd moved on to more... particular options.

"Okay, but what if it's one of the smaller giants?"

"Would still break a leg trying to get it on," Ron laughed. "I'm not shagging a giant, I'm telling you."

"Ron, you're not playing the game right! It's not about being realistic, you just wonder about it sometimes, no need to explain. For example, my pick is Mer-people."

"They're not a bad pick, everyone has thought of it!"

You laugh. "No, they don't! You're just as mental as me!"

"Fine! You want mental, I'll give you mental," Ron's ears blushed a little but he kept talking anyway. "I think if I had to pick, I'd go with Dementors."

You hold back a laugh and answer in a shaky voice. "Is the mo—?"

"Their mouth is huge!" Ron nods, finishing your sentence.

You cackle, holding your stomach. Ron watches you with mirth, also laughing. When the amusement subsides, you wipe your tears and sit up. "Well, but that's almost like doing it with a corpse, isn't it? Aren't dementors like dead people?"

"I have no idea and I don't wish to find out. Besides, you said being realistic spoils the fun."

"True. Sorry to bring it up." You grin.

Ron chuckled, popping a piece of hard candy into his mouth before replying. "I've got another question."

"Shoot!"

"If you had to pick one of us —one of us four, I mean— which one would you date?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh, come on, Ronald, are we circling back to sleepover inquires? That's not even half as fun!"

"Answer the question and I'll go back to the weird ones, then!"

"Fine," you ponder. "Definitely not Harry, he's too thick to understand when someone is flirting with him..."

"All of us are," Ron snorts.

"Well, yeah, but he's the worst," you grin. "And he would find a way to make it awkward anyway, you know he's always reacting in the weirdest ways..."

"Fair enough. That leaves 'Mione and I."

"Well, dating you would mean I would be paying for all the food you ate at our dates, which isn't my idea of fun..."

"Oi! I would have some control, and I wouldn't be letting you pay for everything!" He argues.

"Ah yes, I suppose you'd tip," you tease him. He throws the wrapper of his candy at you, making you chortle. Then you continue to ponder, making a face. "Ah, but then Hermione would never have time for me, would she? It's all school and S.P.E.W., and I have the feeling she'd forget our dates constantly so I'd be basically a fixture on the wall..."

"So it's back to me, then," he smiled with clear satisfaction. "I knew you'd pick me. I'm the looks of this operation."

You snort. "Alright, so who would you pick?"

"Well, can't date Harry because I wouldn't steal my sister's boyfriend, she'd kill me."

"Very wise."

"So I would date you."

You blinked, surprised by his quick decision-making. "What about Hermione?"

"Well, it's like you said, I would only be taking up space in her schedule, and we'd bicker all the time, not that I'd be any better at remembering dates and stuff, but let's face it, I do need attention."

"And you think I'm the right call for that?" You smirked, trying not to sound or look as pleased as you felt.

"Definitely." He mirrored your expression. "You do it all the time already, you come to me when you're looking to have a fun time, so that's something to consider, isn't it?"

"Hm," you nodded pensively. "I s'ppose you're right. Well, how nice of us to pick each other," you joked, trying to rid of the funny feeling in your tummy by playing it down.

"Reckon so, yeah," Ron's smile softened, which only made the butterflies in your stomach go even crazier.

You grabbed a chocolate frog and stuffed it in your mouth, needing to do something other than stare at him. "So," you chew messily. "Harry's life is on the line and you have to french-kiss Umbridge to save him. Would you do it?"

Ron gawked. "Can I do the giant instead?"

Taglist.

@i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @siriuslysirius1107 @aleksosoto @aconfusedslytherin @talksoprettyjjx @23victoria @moonhoonie @raajali @espressopatronum454 @tokkishouse @slytherinnqueen @typicalsolangelolover @Kai-wifey @j-cat @inkandpen22 @theeicedamericano @hamiltonwc @thelastpyle @emilyyyvalenzuelaaa @azura-mist @tomshollandz @cedricisnotdead @letsfly-andbe-free @meetmyblondemuffins @emilyefronhudgens @aggressivevillian @avengersz-biotch @peachyaeger @ieatpanicattacksforlunch @impulse-anchor @mayoforthewin @mikaelsonwhxrebae @sputnik-01 @angelhugsaresweet @slytherinambitious @outofst1le @na1ven3vy @architect-2015 @writingmia @arey0usirius

[catcze]

hay it's me the strip poker kazuha anon but i am now a weak mess for neuvillette. you did an awesome job when you wrote about whether wrio would initiate things etc in a relationship - what are your thoughts for mr neuvillette? 👀👀👀

?!?!?!?!?!??! YO ?!??!! STRIP POKER KAZUHA ANON HELLO OH MY GOD ?! you're still here ?!?!? AAAAA HI HI HI I MISSED YOU ?!?! THANK YOU FOR STILL BEING AROUND ?!?!?!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

Frankly speaking, I don't think Neuvillette would be one to initiate a relationship with you, but he will lay it on pretty heavily that he's into you, and will wait for you to figure things out on your own.

Noovy is an absolute sweetheart, and if he's into you, he only becomes more of a sweetheart. He begins bringing you small gifts that he thinks you'll like: a simple necklace he thought suits you. A flower that he saw on the way to the Palais Mermonia. Even small snacks from food vendors that he passes by that he thinks suit your tastes— he never misses an opportunity to get you some gifts.

He begins to dote on you more and more as time goes by. He's careful in his concerns, making sure that it's clear that they come from a place of sincerity rather than with ulterior motives.

"Have you eaten yet?" Neuvillette asks, receiving the papers from your outstretched hand. He's careful to keep his tone neutral, but the furrow in his brows betrays some of his concern. "Oh, no I haven't yet," you tell him, shifting on your feet. "There were some documents that came right during my lunch break, and I wasn't feeling hungry yet so I volunteered to go through them so that Sedene and the others could have their break." Neuvillette blinks at you, staring for just a second, then he's placing his pen down and rising to his feet. You scramble to attention as he rounds the desk, a smile on his face. "Well, we can't have you working on an empty stomach, can we? Come, I'll treat you somewhere. If that's alright with you, of course."

At some point, practically everyone knows that the Iudex of Fontaine is doing his best to court you.

The melusines are some of the first to know, easily picking up on the subtle flush on Neuvillette's face whenever you talk to him or when your fingers so much as brush. They giggle whenever they see you two together, but are still careful to make sure you don't see them. Monsieur Neuvillette wouldn't want them to ruin the surprise now, would he? The citizens of Fontaine are aware of how you've got Neuvillette wrapped around your finger. After all, he's seen most often with you whenever he wanders the city, and it's hard to miss the fond glances he shoots your way, or how he always vehemently insists on covering the bill whenever you both eat out. Once even going so far as to pluck the mora right out of your hand so you couldn't pay! Even Wriothesley, of all people, who lives in a fortress at the bottom of the ocean hears the news that Neuvillette has been courting someone. He comes up to the Palais Mermonia the very same weekend that he hears the news, all just to see Neuvillette practically melt the second you step into the room. Wriothesley grins the entire time like he's watching a particularly entertaining performance, and Neuvillette has never wanted to kick him out of his office more.

[msheadcannons]

dribbling on the streets

kika nazareth x reader headcannons

you're sitting at your favorite cafe in downtown barcelona, sipping an iced latte. it's been a while since you've felt comfortable exploring the city freely after the pandemic. 

the street is bustling, and the familiar warmth of the neighborhood fills you with nostalgia. it's where you first fell in love with barcelona—the city and the club.

as you leave the cafe, the iced latte’s condensation cooling in your hands, you notice a small crowd gathering in front of a store.

curiosity gets the better of you, and you step closer, your eyes drawn to a guy dribbling a ball with ease. he's doing simple tricks, but it's the girl standing six feet in front of him who catches your attention.

the girl is beautiful– captivating in fact. 

when the guy passes her the football, your pupils could’ve turned into hearts at the way she dribbles the ball so effortlessly. 

she shifts from standing to sitting, all while balancing the ball at her feet. her precision is mesmerizing. 

��wow,” you whisper under your breath, unable to tear your eyes away. 

the tanned girl’s movements remind you of how you play on the pitch—fluid, confident, untouchable.

the girl starts to get shy at the audience watching her in awe, and she passes the ball back to the man. 

the man tells her that it was nice to meet her, and she waves him goodbye. 

so they do not know eachother..? you thought. 

the girl notices you as she turned to walk towards your direction. her eyes locked with yours for a moment. 

she does a double take, recognition sparking in her gaze. her lips curve into an amused smile and she walks over. 

“you're y/n, right!?” she says, a hint of excitement in her tone.

“yeah, that's me,” you respond, offering a small smile. 

“and you are…?” she laughs lightly, the sound soft and familiar. 

“kika. sorry, i thought you’d know me since i play for benfica.” your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“benfica? you’re so right– how did i not recognize you?” 

kika shrugs, her eyes playful. “beats me, but i've known who you are for a while. you're kind of famous.”

“i wouldn't call myself that ha,” you chuckle, shifting on your feet. “lets not make this about me though because that was some impressive dribbling out there. i wish i had skills like that.” 

kika's eyes widen, and she scoffs playfully. “are you joking? you're known as the best dribbler in the world.” you laugh, a little taken aback but pleased. 

“i'll take that,” you say, raising your iced latte in mock salute.

“do you play ball often in the streets outside of training?” you ask with a giggle. kika nods. 

“whenever i can. it's where i started, you know?” 

you smile, understanding the sentiment all too well. “makes sense. it shows in your style.”

there's a pause while kika looks at you, biting her lip slowly which causes you to feel shy.

you take a breath and say, “you know, i’d love to stay in touch. do you mind if i get your number?” 

kika's eyes sparkle, and she tilts her head slightly. “i'd like that,” she says, handing over her phone. 

after you exchange numbers, she adds, “i’m heading back to lisbon tonight, though.” 

you nod, a small pang of disappointment. “no worries. i'll text you, i want to keep in touch.”

the next day, a video surfaces online of kika's street performance. the crowd is visible, and so are you, leaning against the store doors with an impressed smile. barcelona fans flood the comments, noting the mysterious onlooker. 

“why does the girl in the brown bomber jacket look like y/n l/n??” 

“well kika was in barcelona where y/n plays but idk.” someone replied to the comment above.  

luckily, the dim lighting keeps your identity safe—for now.

kika sends you a message later that evening: had fun meeting you today, y/n. next time, we need to do that together 

you smile at your phone at home, feeling a sense of excitement you haven't felt in a while. 

i’ll hold you to that you type back.

[skyesdaisys]

Hi! Love your work, could you write a dick Grayson fanfic abt him and a quiet female reader warming up to each other (set between season 1 and 2)?

yes, of course!!!! god, i've wanted to write for titans on here so bad i just didn't have the inspo so thank you<333

—

talk to him

titans dick grayson x fem!reader

sunmary: you weren't exactly much of a people person. especially since you were 1 of 2 adults living in a huge tower in san francisco, watching over 3 kids you don't really talk to outside of training. and the only other adult being closed off so who knows what'll happen when he decides to talk to you out of no where

cw: not much, there's just some fluff with a teaspoon of angst because of communication issues (they both suck at small talk and beyond)

a/n: idc what anyone says about this show, it's given me so much comfort and a lot of fun and likable characters. so i'm so glad i can write for them as long as you guys send requests for them. as well as other characters from other shows like yellowjackets and etc. also i love dick grayson, even though he can be a bit annoying in this show (that i can admit) but he's hot so ajsjfndmfmf. also, i'm sorry it took sooooo long, writers block got to me badly these past few months, so i apologize if it's cringey and awkward. but i do give the benefit the doubt here because this story is suppose to be like that (also the fact i'm projecting my "bad at small talk" trait here). two grown adults that can't seem to have a normal conversation, like at all

after the trigon incident you were dragged in by circumstance, you were the only other adult to volunteer to help dick with... whatever he was doing. you didn't have any life to go back to anyways, and you made a connection to everyone else so why part ways and it be unlikely to see them again. sure, you weren't particularly close with the kids, but, what are you supposed to do in order to bond with them? so that left dick in titans tower, but he wasn't as much of a talker as you outside of training.

everyday for the past few weeks have been, eat, train, sleep, repeat on a loop, no 'how was your day' questions, because the days are always the same so there wasn't any point of asking. and you could tell the kids were getting bored of it, very fast, and you could not blame them. being stuck in a repeating pattern with nothing else happening started getting old after the first couple weeks. so, you didn't really know how long it would take til something changed, it couldn't be like this forever.

during this time, you admired the grayson from afar, he was attractive, what else could you say? you weren't an idiot. and you also were aware of his previous entanglements with kory and you didn't wanna be involved in that. and, well... you felt like a teenage girl having a crush on a guy who was going through some shit, so it was better not to bother him.

and not being much of a talker doesn't make the conversation about feelings be any better. like, maybe this was attraction and nothing more? you were aware of the difference between liking someone physically and liking them emotionally (specifically in a romantic sense). but even as you admired him, you learn things about him, paying attention to the little things. deep down, he cared for other people, if he didn't, he wouldn't have taken rachel in and helped her, and he wouldn't have done the same for gar or jason either. people just have their own way of showing their love and care.

but your admiring wasn't exactly subtle. rachel had noticed it when you were looking at dick from across the room, talking with jason. the roth wasn't sugarcoating anything when it came to this, "you keep staring, you're probably gonna be capable of shooting lazers from your eyes." and you knew she was joking around but she caught you by surprise, making you face the young girl. "why is it any of your business?"

"because it's kind of sad seeing you pine for him like this." she points out, "and also, gar and jason made a bet whether or not you'd confess. we have eyes, you know?" and she lightly bumped your shoulder with hers with a smile on her face, "and i'm sure dick feels the same way, though he's not very good of showing it."

"that is ridiculous." you shake your head, "one, i don't like him. not like that. i just think he's cool."

"are you sure about that?" the roth rose her eyebrow, "talk to him." but you were not moving from where you were so rachel decided to take matters into her own hands, she then gave you a push (a literal one) towards him, and now you couldn't run away. all you could say was, "hey..."

"hey." he responded. jason just stood there awkwardly in between the two of you, "okay, well uh—" he pretends to look at a watch that's not even on his wrist, "look at the time, i must be going." and he had immediately ran out of there before dick tried to stop him. there was an silent pause and you were trying to figure out what to say, but before you could, he asks, "do you want some coffee?" all you did was nod. after that, there was even more silence, you two haven't had a conversation that wasn't training related in like, a while. it just felt like you were both strangers who didn't know each other nor were you fond of one another.

"you're just as bad at small talk as i am, huh?" you finally had spoken up. and dick just shook his head, "i don't know what you're talking about, i know how to make small talk."

"oh really?" you rose up your eyebrow, "okay mr. 'i know how to make small talk', what do you wanna talk about? and please, don't let it be training related. because if i have to hear you talk about that one more time, my head is gonna explode." you tried to look irritated, but he could notice a small smile on your face. then he immediately went into the 'deep, emotional' stuff, "you never told me why you came here. you just did, and i'm surprised you stuck around as long as you have."

you answered it anyway, because why not, "well, it's not like i have anywhere else to go." you set down your drink, making direct eye contact at him, "besides, the second i got here, and realized how big this place is and i have my own room... what, did you expect me to pass it up?" and you ended up making him laugh, which was surprising, "what is so funny, i'm just being honest." you were unsure why he was laughing, so you just took a sip of your coffee. he explained, "your honesty is refreshing, that's all."

"really?" and he nodded as a reply. you just sighed, taking your coffee and leaving. it's not like you had anything else to talk about and just sitting there would make it more awkward, so you just left. does it make it any less weird? absolutely not.

you guys didn't talk much after in the next few days, up until you decided to play hero on solo when you see a woman getting mugged by this guy in a mask. it was like one of the many movie cliches that you see brought into reality.

too bad it didn't turn out like expected, where you got shot in the leg. thankfully, the kids were able to track you down and bring you to the infirmary, gar was trying his best to patch you up and rachel was there for emotional support. as for jason... there wasn't much else he can do than just stand watch, up until dick had walked in with a worried expression, and the three teens immediately rushed out of there as soon as he walked in the room. you could've left if you wanted too but, obviously you couldn't.

"jesus fuck, you could've gotten yourself killed, what were you thinking?" all of his emotions were being let out in that moment, it was the most emotion you've seen him express towards you in like... ever. yet you couldn't help but be a bit sarcastic, "yeah, keep yelling... it's not like i'm literally a few feet away from you or whatever."

dick sat on the edge of the bed and started to explain, "sorry, it's just... when i heard what happened, i didn't know how to feel, or express it correctly." he gently set his hand on your injured leg, softly, "just if anything happened to you, i—"

"i'm tougher than you think, grayson." you reassured him, and you noticed a tiny smile creeping up on his face.

"i know it's just... i don't wanna lose anyone else."

you lean up a bit to set your hand on his shoulder, "i'm not going anywhere, dick." you then stopped for a second as you come to realize, "and we just had a conversation that didn't involve small talk. maybe i should get myself hurt more often." you were obviously joking at that last part, but dick's reaction to it was priceless, "i'm kidding. you are just... not what i expected."

"the feeling is mutual."

a part of you wanted to kiss him, that it felt right, but another part was saying how the timing of it all wasn't. and maybe these feelings you're having are actually real. because now, there was something in your heart that was growing that wasn't just admiration, and it felt weird, but a good weird.

maybe when the timing is right, they'll get to it, but until then, your growing friendship in the moment is enough for now.

[sunghoons-mole]

Can I Call You Mine? (Part 1)

GENRE // best friend!Hee x afab!reader (she/her pronouns)

WARNINGS // heeseung is kind of a WHORE, mentions of alcohol and being drunk (all characters are attending uni and of legal drinking age) a bit of fluff, angst, let me know if i missed anything.

FROM THE AUTHOR // just writing a fluffy, sexy, basic friends to lovers fic because i'm back in my feels lately.. it's kinda cliche but cliches are nice once in a while. ft the other enha members as various characters. NO SMUT IN PART 1 but there may be in part 2 ;) VERY LIKELY

THIS IS ONLY PART 1, because i realized while writing it that it was going to go way longer than i originally planned. enjoy :)

PART 2

The obnoxious giggle of some girl drags you out of your daydream, quickly bringing your attention back to reality. You look to your left to find the source of the noise, and you aren't surprised. Turns out, it's not just some girl's giggle -- but the annoying sound of an empty-headed girl with zero personality and basically no brain. 

And even worse -- Heeseung, your best friend of ten years, is draping an arm around her shoulder, chuckling along with her brainless attempt at flirting. 

Wow.

"Quit staring." 

You shake your head and look over at Jungwon and Sunoo, who are both approaching where you stand, in the hallway of your lecture hall.

"I feel like I'm back in high school right now." You readjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. "Here I am, standing in a hallway, watching Hee try to win over some girl with less brains than a loaf of bread."

Sunoo snorts, and Jungwon rolls his eyes. 

"You should have picked a different college." Jungwon grimaces in Heeseung's direction, then reaches into his bag for a snack. As if it were that easy.

"Listen. I wanted to come here first! I didn't plan on him following in my footsteps." You check the time on your phone. "Are you guys going to Jay's party tonight?"

"A frat party? No fucking thank you." Sunoo waves you off with his hand, scowling. "It always stinks in those houses..."

You look at him sympathetically. Jungwon tries not to spit any of his granola bar out as he laughs, then looks at you. "Are you going with Heeseung? You guys are kind of like Spongebob and Patrick."

You immediately frown at this comparison. "Is that how people see us?"

Sunoo shrugs, then blows a kiss in your direction before walking towards the campus doors. Jungwon sighs. 

"I didn't mean it like... that." He says slowly. "Maybe Spongebob and Patrick were secretly in love!"

You groan and slap your hand against your forehead. "Stop it, Won." You shoot one last look in Heeseung's direction, but the girl is standing by the door, alone. As if she's waiting for someone. 

"I don't even know if Heeseung is going. So we probably won't go together."

"Of course Heeseung is going. He wouldn't miss a frat party." Jungwon wads up his empty granola bar wrapper and tosses it at a nearby trashcan, making it in. 

"Well, he didn’t mention the party to me, so I’m not going with him.” You fiddle with your thumbs for a second. You glance up again, and the girl is gone. 

“I'm going to try to hook up with someone." You suddenly blurt, desperate to give up on your hopeless crush. You avoid Jungwon's eyes, focusing on a pair of guys rounding the corner. 

"What? Who?" Jungwon's eyes widen, following your stare. "Sunghoon??"

You realize too late that the pair of guys you're unintentionally ogling is Jay and Sunghoon -- and your eyes were right on Hoon. He shoots you a grin and winks, and continues walking. Jay doesn't even glance in your direction, which isn't unusual.

"Wh- Sunghoon? Pfft." You try to play it off, but Jungwon definitely noticed the wink. And he can definitely see your cheeks getting pink, too. 

"Let me know what happens." He wiggles his eyebrows.

You turn and walk out the door, throwing a playful middle finger over your shoulder. "Bye, Wonnie!" 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Ding!

You reach for your phone on the vanity, setting a makeup brush aside. Before you can even unlock it, the damn thing dings twice more. 

All three messages are from Heeseung. 

Hey

You coming?

OPEN UP

You begin to type a response, but something hits your window with a light ping.

Heeseung has never been a stranger to climbing in your window when you two were younger. Now that you were living in an on-campus apartment, you didn't expect him to try anything like that. 

But…was he throwing rocks??

You open your window and look down to see Heeseung, standing below your second floor window. He's wearing a white t-shirt, loose jeans, and his dark hair is pushed back to expose his forehead - and those big, warm brown eyes.

"What is this, Lee? Rocks at my window? Really?" You shout down at him, earning his rare Heeseung smile. The one he usually hid unless he was around you. He was seriously beaming up at you, and your chest began to tighten.

"You're coming to Jay's party."

"Yes, but.. what are y- ugh. Hold on."

You close the window and hurry your makeup, then slip on your shoes and head out the door. Heeseung, of course, is waiting outside when you exit your building, wearing a shit-eating grin. 

"What are you doing here?" you look at him, watching a few strands of hair fall over his forehead and sway in the slight evening breeze. 

"I am walking you to the party.” He says, as if this were an obvious fact. “Were you going without me?"

You're stunned for a moment, and then confused. "When did you ever talk to me about this party? I didn't know you wanted to go, let alone with me."

Now Heeseung looks confused. "I mean, you're my best friend. We do most things together." He begins to walk across campus to Jay's frat house. 

You start to follow, noticing how the sidewalk lamps are turning on and the sun is setting. Fall has begun, and the chill in the air sends a shiver down your spine. 

"I wish I brought a jacket." Heeseung says, putting his hands in his pockets as you fall into step beside him. 

"Aww, are you cold?" You tease, shoving his shoulder. But he shakes his head and looks over at you for a split second. 

"No, but you are."

He always seems to know you better than you know yourself. Your heart skips, but you ignore it. "Who was that girl you were chatting up earlier? Anyone important?"

Heeseung chuckles as you both approach Jay’s frat house, and stops at the bottom of the steps. "No. Not important." He bites his lip, letting his eyes travel down to yours, but only for a split second -- so quick that you almost miss it. "Don't know what I was thinking."

You open your mouth to respond when Sunghoon opens the front door, smiling down at you both. "Hey! Heeseung. You finally made it." 

You were trying to decide what he meant by "finally", considering it was only about seven thirty when he came down the porch steps and stopped in front of you, blocking your view of Heeseung. "Y/N. I’m so happy you’re here." He lifts your hand and places a polite kiss on the back of your fingers. "You look lovely."

You smile nervously, not expecting him to greet you this way. You had only spoken to him a handful of times. He was gorgeous, and you didn't trust yourself to speak to him any more than that. Surely, you'd stutter and make a fool of yourself. Kind of like you were now. 

"I, um... you... thank you. Thanks, Hoon." Your eyes widen in shock. "Oh god. I'm sorry. Am I.. allowed to call you that?"

Sunghoon chuckles sweetly and beams at you once more. "Of course you can. You can call me Sunghoon, or Hoon... or you can call me later." He winks, and you temporarily forget that Heeseung is there too, currently clenching and unclenching his fists.

Heeseung isn't entirely sure what emotion he is feeling at this moment -- but he is sure that he doesn't like feeling it. At all. And he’s going to barf at Sunghoon’s corny line.

"I'm gonna grab a drink. See you around, Y/N." Heeseung starts up the stairs and enters the house, allowing a few seconds of noise from the party to travel outside. 

"Can I get you a drink, Y/N?" Sunghoon holds his arm out, and you hesitantly place your hand on his bicep, allowing him to walk you up the stairs and into the party. 

Inside is full of other students, and it’s a bit stuffy. Now that it’s fall, it gets dark earlier, so the room is somewhat dim with only a few cheap lamps to light the place. The kitchen counter is occupied by various bottles of alcohol, plastic cups and a few nearly empty bowls of chips. Sunghoon leads you into the kitchen and gestures to the counter. 

“I can make you anything you like. I’m pretty good at mixing drinks.” He gives an adorably proud smile. 

To your right, in the living room, Heeseung sits on the armrest of a couch, trying to pretend he isn’t keeping an eye on you and Sunghoon. He sips from his cup every minute or so, wanting to stay sober in case you need him. He’s normally the one who gets crazy at these things, waiting for you to guide him home at the end of the night - provided he doesn’t meet anyone else. 

But right now, he can’t think about meeting other women. He isn’t seeing the people around him, or the various girls from past parties who call his name and come up to him for a hug. He is polite, but he misses you. He can’t help but notice that the roles are usually reversed when you both attend a party. He isn’t used to you being whisked away by someone. Is this how you feel when he leaves?

He watches you and Sunghoon make your way to the stairs on the other side of the room, and he feels his heart drop, only for relief to sweep over him a moment later when the two of you simply take a seat on some of the lower steps. 

Why is he feeling this way all of a sudden? He knows, he really does. He just… would rather not admit it. 

When his drink is gone, and he’s suffered through small talk with about a dozen people, he stands from the couch’s armrest, making his way through the people and into the kitchen for another. 

As he pours, he hears footsteps, so light that he almost misses them. He turns his head to see a short woman staring up at him. She’s quite pretty, and Heeseung is caught off guard by how she’s looking at him expectantly. 

“Hey,” he says, turning around fully to face her. He takes a sip of his freshly poured drink. 

“Hi,” she says, smiling. “Wanna take me home?”

Heeseung nearly chokes on his drink. What the hell?

Once he composes himself, he stares at her, unblinking. “You’re quite forward, aren’t you?” he asks, although it comes out as more of a statement rather than a question. 

“I prefer to get to the point. No time to waste.” Her statement would make the whole thing feel like a business arrangement, if not for the cute smile plastered on her face. Heeseung considers her for a moment. 

If you’re off with Sunghoon… no good can come from that, right? Heeseung has seen how charming Sunghoon is, especially with the ladies. He’d have you going home with him in no time, wouldn’t he? He sighs to himself, deciding in the moment that this party will have to end the same way they always do - with Heeseung failing to confess to you, and taking some girl home trying to forget about it. 

“Alright, yeah,” He responds, smirking at the girl. “Shall we?” 

She smirks back, and Heeseung extends his arm. She holds his bicep and they make their way out of the kitchen. 

Just as they are exiting, you and Sunghoon enter the kitchen, looking to refill your drinks. You catch sight of Heeseung and the girl on his arm, but shake it off quickly as you let Sunghoon refill your drink. 

Jake enters the kitchen too, stumbling a bit. He is clearly drunk, or at least on the way. He gives you and Sunghoon a goofy smile. “Ayeee, what’s up Hoon? Y/N, looking well.” He catches himself on the counter. “Hoon, pour me one of those, will ya?” He runs his hand through his fluffy, disheveled hair. 

Sunghoon smiles and shakes his head at you, as if to say, this guy. “I think you’ve had enough, yeah man?” He claps jake on the shoulder. 

“Psh. Naw. Hey, Y/N,” he says, suddenly uninterested in a drink. “I just saw your guy leaving with a short girl!”

Your heart drops at the reminder. You look at Sunghoon, afraid he might be confused. “My guy? I don’t… have a guy.” You chuckle, hoping he will just get distracted again and talk about something else. 

“Of course you do,” Sunghoon says, surprising you. 

“What?” You look between the two of them. Sunghoon is sipping his drink, his eyes locked with yours over the rim of his cup. Jake is grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying this. 

Sunghoon swallows and lowers the cup. “Oh please, Y/N. Look, you’re really attractive, and I wasn’t faking with the flirting earlier,” he says, the corner of his mouth curling upward, revealing one of those pointy canines. “But I mostly did it in hopes that Heeseung would be jealous enough to get his head out of his ass and admit that he doesn’t want anyone else to have you.”

Just then, Jake’s eyes widen, and he rushes out of the kitchen. 

Sunghoon ignores him, instead staring directly at you. “Unfortunately, even that didn’t do the trick. I’m afraid it might be up to you to get him to confess.”

Your head starts to spin with all of this unexpected information. “Confess what?”

“That he’s in love with you, Y/N.”

~~~~~

“So, do you live on campus?” The girl asks sweetly. 

Heeseung steps down from the stairs leading up to the house, and she follows. “Yeah, my apartment is a few blocks from here.”

“So… you walked here?” She asks, shivering and wrapping her arms around herself. It dawns on Heeseung then - she’s wearing a strapless dress. And all he’s wearing is a t-shirt. Shit.

“Yeah, I’m sorry-” he frantically looks around, as if something outside would do their current predicament any good. She shivers beside him.

The front door opens, and someone stumbles down the stairs. “Heeseung! Wait up!”

Both Heeseung and the girl turn to the source of the shout - Jake, who is completely ignoring the sidewalk and running through the grass toward them. 

“Jake, man. Are you alright?” Heeseung asks, meeting Jake halfway and grabbing his shoulders to steady him. 

“I’m good.” He burps once, then looks around. “What are you doing, man? Where’s Y/N?” 

Heeseung swears under his breath. He glances over his shoulder at the girl, who is shivering and starting to look impatient. 

“She’s inside, Jake. Which is where you should be.” He tries to keep his voice down.

Jake clearly doesn’t catch the hint, yelling his response. “You can’t leave without her, Hee!” He pokes Heeseung’s chest. “Especially because you lo-”

Heeseung clamps a hand over Jake’s mouth, pushing him backwards toward the house. “It’s complicated. Just, go back inside.”

The girl huffs and rolls her eyes, rubbing her arms up and down. Jake notices this, and quickly removes his jacket, running over to her and draping it around her shoulders. She watches, trying to hide her giggle as he drunkenly jogs back over to Heeseung, a smile on his face. “Oh man. Jogging is hard after a drink.” Heeseung chuckles to himself, knowing Jake has had more than just “a” drink. 

Jake’s facial expression turns serious. “Oh man, Hee. You can’t do this.” He wobbles a bit, but steadies himself. “I’m one of the boys, but this…” He shakes his head. “I think you’d hate yourself for this one, buddy.” 

Heeseung sighs, knowing Jake is right, but attempts to argue. “You don’t understand. It’s complicated.”

“You said that, Heeseung.” The use of his full name from Jake is enough to send a shiver down Heeseung’s spine. Jake never pulls out anyone’s entire name unless he’s serious. And if he can be serious while drunk… well, Heeseung is fucked. Because Jake is entirely right. “It’s all complicated, Hee. Everything is. But I think” - he pokes Heeseung’s chest again - “that the Heeseung I know doesn’t want to hurt his best friend Y/N like this.” He leans in and dramatically whispers, cupping his hand around his mouth. “Because he loves her.”

Heeseung groans, looking back at the girl briefly. She seems to have stopped shivering, and is typing quickly on her phone a few feet behind them. 

“Jake, don’t make me look bad here. It’s not that simple.”

“Then tell me, big guy.” Jake starts to get aggravated. “Tell me how it’s complicated. Tell me how you leaving with another woman when Y/N has clearly been waiting for you to get over yourself for years is justified here.” Jake shakes his head again. “You’re just going to hurt her again. Do you ever get tired of slowly killing her hope for the two of you? Your best friend?” He takes a step backward. “Your best friend that you’re in love with, might I add.”

Heeseung silently curses himself for being so open with Jake and the guys a few months back. But he also curses himself for being so reckless and stupid. Always looking for a good time to distract him from you, from the possibility that you’d reject him - rather than just having the courage to find out if you’d respond otherwise. 

What was he really so afraid of? He knew the answer to that. It was just the same as all the books and movies and shows. A tale as old as time - he was afraid to lose the bond you had as friends. Years of memories, at risk of being thrown away over some feelings he had that you didn’t reciprocate. 

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? He was assuming. What if he was wrong? What if every little signal he thought he picked up on over the years wasn’t just wishful thinking? Had you been waiting for the same thing he was?

“I’m not trying to hurt her, okay? I just…” he trails off, realizing he can’t find the right words to explain himself. Maybe because there weren’t any.

“Whatever, man.” Jake shakes his head for the nth time, dropping his hands in an exasperated state. “If this is the person you want to be, go ahead. But you can’t say I didn’t try.” Jake walks back up the steps and into the house, somewhat less wobbly than before. 

Heeseung looks back to find the girl looking right at him. She must have heard the last part of the conversation, as her face is rather uncomfortable. 

“Does this mean you’re not taking me home?” 

Heeseung sighs, looking at his shoes. “Yeah, I don’t know. I’m really sorry. I don’t think I’m in the mood to leave with you right now.”

She sighs. “It’s alright.” She starts toward the house, just as a tall guy walks out, pulling out a joint. She immediately approaches him and begins the same routine she had with Heeseung earlier. He chuckles to himself. He can’t help but feel relieved that she’s gone. 

~~~~~

Inside, you and Sunghoon have returned to sitting on the stairs, watching the party goers. After hearing what Sunghoon had said about Heeseung not confessing, you became pretty upset at the fact that he had just left with another girl he barely knew. Sunghoon managed to cheer you up enough, and now the two of you are people watching and sticking to friendly conversation.

Sunghoon cracks a joke about one of the guys, someone you both had seen in your lab. You laugh so hard that you almost spit your drink all over your skirt. Some of it dribbles down your chin and onto your shirt.

“Sorry,” He says, grabbing your cup from you as you wipe your hands across the small wet spot above your chest. “Do I need to grab a napkin?”

“No, I managed to keep most of it in,” You giggle. He hands the cup back to you. 

He turns, and his eyes seem to concentrate on someone across the room. You follow his stare to the front door - where Heeseung has just re-entered the house. His eyes scan the room, looking for someone. Did he lose the girl?

Was he looking for you?

“Maybe you guys should talk it out,” Sunghoon suggests, his eyes still on Heeseung. 

You remain silent, your gaze locked on Heeseung as well. His head turns slowly, and he spots you and Sunghoon on the stairs. But he doesn’t seem to notice Sunghoon at all. His eyes are stuck on you. 

The eye contact - although across the room - is intense. Your instinct is to turn away, unable to handle the tension. But you don’t. And neither does he. He stays still, his eyes locked with yours, seemingly trying to convey something that you don’t quite understand. Your stomach flips, your heart quickens - but he wouldn’t know it from all the way over there. Or maybe he would. He knows you better than anyone in the room, maybe anyone in the world. 

As if sensing this, his Bambi eyes soften, the way they do when you’re showing him a new outfit, or when he watches you laugh at one of his jokes. It feels like the party has disappeared, and he’s right in front of you, looking at you in that way that makes your knees weak. The noise and the music, they all vanish, and it’s just the two of you, locked in a tunnel-vision stare. 

After several moments of fighting the urge to look away, he breaks the stare first, his eyes flitting over to Sunghoon next to you. His soft eyes harden, and his jaw tenses. You can tell even at this distance - you know him, too. Of course you do. 

Which is why you feel the need to warn Sunghoon.

Before you can say anything, however, Sunghoon has already caught on, having been witness to the entire staredown moments before. He begins to stand, but Heeseung is faster, already standing right in front of the stairs. 

Rushing through the crowd towards you drew plenty of attention, and the room seems to still, now quiet except for the music still playing and the muffled noise of partygoers in other rooms, oblivious to what is happening in this one. 

Sunghoon squints at Heeseung, assessing the situation. He stands in front of both of you, his face slowly turning angry. Now that he's closer, it's as if you aren't even there. He doesn't look your way at all, instead sizing up Sunghoon.

Sunghoon glances at you, nervous, then clears his throat. “Hey man. You alright?”

“Step away from her.”

~

PART 2 ON THE WAY! STAY TUNED!

thanks for reading !

with love, sunghoons-mole <3

[ang3lwritez]

Teddy Bear 🧸| fyozai

Tw|| Yandere Fyodor! Stalking and MENTIONED murder + kidnapping but it's very very brief

Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Aka: A total fucking nobody

Shooting his shot with the Osamu Dazai.

Mister " Everyone Has A Crush On Me And I'm Basically Perfect. "

Yeah. No way in hell that was working out.

Fyodor may be in love, but he's not stupid!

So instead of asking him out and being humiliated, a kinda one sided friendship and hardcore stalking was only the most logical of conclusions.

I mean who doesn't know their crushes' full name, date of birth, address, familial connections, friends, class schedule, hangout spots and favourite well…everything!!?? I mean do you really even love them if you don't know that much?

But Fyodor, ever the overachiever, wanted more. Just seeing him from his walks to school and back wasn't enough. Plus, stalking Dazai’s social media stories and the outside of his yard was getting… mundane to say the least. He was bored, desvestated, in a dizziness of lovestrucken sorrow! How he wished to even be in his beloved Osamu's bubble for more than a brief passby! He was the only person on this planet who was on his level, intelligent enough to understand him, charming enough to captivate him. He couldn't let someone like that be unmonitored! 

All this and more flooded the raven haired boy's head as he smiled at the plush store cashier who ringed up a small brown bear. Brown, like

Osamu’s hair.. and eyes… and those small scars on his wrists..

Fyodor sighed softly to himself, what a charming hopeless romantic he truly was!

“Just like the girls in all those American movies.” he thought as he took the plush bear onto his desk at home and grabbed scissors.

“Just like the girls in shojo manga.” 

He thought as he cut the bear's head open, poking one eye out with a sewing needle.

“Just like the girls in stage plays!” He smiled to himself, placing the mini camera he got from the department store between the plushies fluffy stuffing 

“Just like the girls in audio dramas!” He sighed dreamily as he sewed the head of the plushie back on, the camera lens just barely peeking through the bear's now torn eye socket.

Perfect. Truly romantic. He shocked himself sometimes with just how gentlemanly he is!!

The next morning, Fyodor almost floated into his homeroom class with glee. Though his face wouldn't ever show it. After all, he had an image to maintain!

So, the stuffed bear was ceremoniously placed on Dazai's desk. The brown haired boy looked up at Fyodor with a confused smile.

“Well good morning to you too, Dostoyevsky.”

He said holding back a snide laugh. “What's with the plushie? It's not Valentine's or White day.” Fyodor looked at him dead in the eyes.

“It was your birthday two weeks ago. This is your gift. Apologies if it was late.” He said flatly bowing his head before blankly staring at his beloved crush again.

“...ooooookaaaay then. Thanks. It's cute.” Dazai said awkwardly before stuffing the plushie in his school bag.

“Keep it in the light please.” Fyodor said.

“Why?”

“Would you like being thrown in a dark closet if you were a plushie?” 

“...I g-guess you have a point?” 

The two stared at each other silently before the bell rung in their ears. Fyodor gave Dazai one last nod before sitting at his desk. He raised his book to his face, as his cheeks flushed red. Oh the way his beloved Osamu looked at him, those brown eyes big and wide with adorable suprise and confusion! 

Oh what a chamer he was, it's such a surprise Osamu wasn't begging on his knees to be his boyfriend. Such a shame his beloved wished to play hard to get!!

No matter, at least he had a little piece of him keeping the brown haired boy company, Fyodor thought as he opened the app the teddybear camera was linked to on his phone. Sure enough, it worked like a charm. He could see the lower side of Dazai from the open zipper in his school bag. How cute he looked when he was focusing!

It's safe to say Fyodor didn't pay any attention in that class. Or the one after that. Or any of the other classes he shared with Dazai. No matter, it's not like he didn't know this stuff already. Perks of being the smart kid.

Fyodor had never rushed home so quick in his life. After making sure his beloved had a safe walk home (as per usual! Do any of Dazai's other love interests do that? He thinks NOT!!)

He dashed to his room, immediately turning on the app. And there he was, looking through the teddy bear Dazai so graciously placed on his bed the minute he got home! How sweet his beloved was, such a kind soul! Treating even a plush toy with such grace! Truly worthy of his affection.

And that's how his afternoons were spent.

Watching Dazai sleep, eat, study.. (and if he was lucky enough, change!) it truly was such a beautiful arrangement.

Such a shame Dazai became all too perceptive, finding the camera one fateful night when the batteries decided to go on the fritz. And now here Fyodor was, being interrogated by the one he loves most. Was this, perhaps, a perfect moment to confess?! Now that Dazai knew of his devotion!!!?? Oh how fate is so beautiful. Even when Dazai is yelling, calling him insane, he knows deep down he loves him back. How could he not!

Yet even then he gets met with a slap, and the title of creep when going in for an “I love you” and a kiss. Figures. Dazai had always been such a hard to get player.

But no matter, afterall Fyodor was smart, kind and patient. 

He just had to wait for Dazai to see that.

And if that means threatening others, hurting them, and even a bit violently dragging dazai to his basement 

Then he gladly would. If his beloved wished to be blind, he would wait an eternity for him to see.

Fyodor would always wait.

Thanks for reading!

This fic is also up on my ao3! > Netranetwork

[starrayblogs]

I would love e to request Wukong and Reader's first kiss (I've always headcannoned Wukong as being new to love and awkward on that department lol)

aww yea, a prompt about my favorite boy!

this is so fun, i kinda agree with you on that hc because honestly– he was too busy on the journey to even indulge in that And then he's busy again trying to keep his successor form repeating his mistakes

so, i hope you enjoy this short oneshot on a first kiss with wukong! likes and reblogs are always appreciated :3

pairing: lmk sun wukong x reader (gender neutral)

will include: fluff

You and Wukong were in Flower Fruit Mountain on New Year's Eve.

After the hectic events of what happened with Spider Queen, Wukong offered to spend time at his place once he found the opportunity to sneak away MK's friends. After a while of being awed at, their attention was brought to DBK. That's when you and the Monkey King made your great escape.

"The skies in the mortal realm are always so dynamic. One minute they're just a plain regular blue, the next they're littered with colors." Wukong says as he takes a seat next to you on the ledge of some part in the mountain.

You chuckle and open the basket you asked Wukong to drop past by before leaving the city. "I'm sure you've seen plenty of skies in your time, Wukong." You poke at him before pulling out a piece of mochi and popping it in your mouth.

"Perks of being immortal, yes," he sways his head, "but it's the first sky I'm sharing with you." He follows up quietly and catches you off guard with his words.

You turn to look at him, and there's a slight tint on his cheeks. Sure, you were also flustered, but you smile nonetheless. You finished the piece of food in your mouth and chuckle nervously.

"Can't be that special." You shrug your shoulders.

"Nope!" He pops the 'p' while he shuffles closer beside you. He leans in with a grin and your cheeks can't help but get hotter with the closing distance. "It's very special." He says softly.

The genuineness in his voice relaxes your body and you lean into him as well. "I'm honored, Wukong." You tell him gently, placing your hand on top of his.

You two stay in that position for a while until you think to pull away but Wukong closes his eyes and purses his lips. You're confused for a moment and then a thought pops into your head, which you think to ask first instead of reciprocating the monkey.

"Wukong, is this your first time kissing someone?" You ask, trying to bite back a giggle.

His eyes shoot open, his tail stands straight up, and his entire face goes red to the point it reaches his ears. "What!" He exclaims, leaning slightly away from your face. "O-Of course, not! I'm the Monkey King, I have experiences that go way back! I-In fact-"

He stammers up a story, but you can feel his hand shaking underneath yours. You giggle and your head dips for a while.

When you look up, you stop laughing as your eyebrows slightly raise in surprise. Wukong was frowning and looking away from you. You sigh and shuffle into a different sitting position, where you could face him. You grab his hands and interlock it with yours as you inhale deeply.

"Sorry, that was really rude of me." You start, fiddling your thumb on his. "I just thought to ask because," you pause as you feel your cheeks flush again. "you would be my first kiss... too." You confess, glancing away so he wouldn't see your reaction.

He doesn't reply for a while until he says, "hey." He unlocks one hand to bring it to your cheek, guiding back your eyes to him. Once your eyes meet, his shoulders slack and his tail sways behind him. "There's no harm in trying." He says, caressing his thumb on your cheek.

You two lean in closer to each other. You hum, nodding your head slowly. You think for a second before softly asking, "can we try?"

"A king kissing his spouse before marriage?" He chuckles, and you quirk a brow. He chuckles. "Y-Yeah, yeah... I want to try."

You two share a smile. You lower your gaze to his lips first and tilt your head, slowly leaning in. He does the same.

Your lips connect and you both feel the pressure of each other's lips against your own. It felt nice. It felt warm and reassuring. You two pull away after a few seconds, both with widened eyes and flushed cheeks.

Wukong was the first to speak up. "Can we do that again?" He asks, his tail rapidly swaying behind him.

You nod your head and let out a squeak when he pulls you in for another kiss by his hand on your jawline. You smile and giggle into the kiss a little before kissing him back.

Your grip with his other hand tightens as the two you find each other through the kiss. Feeling the way it makes your chests warm and full of care, feeling the way it makes your hearts pound with excitement.

It's your first kiss with Sun Wukong, and his with yours. It's not perfect, but it's beautiful.

So, you kiss him again.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Alright, here's a quick look at the upcoming Norm Maclean one-shot for those interested! Like many of my pieces, it's rapidly become longer than I was planning, so I apologize if anyone out there is dying of impatience waiting. I'm hoping to have it up in the next week (I would say "few days", but I work insanely long shifts on the weekends, so Friday-Sunday is often a bit of a wash around these parts). I hope you like it!

Shoot The Moon

Pairing: Norm Maclean x Female Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), angst, pining, discussion of arranged marriage, love confessions, wet dreams, mild voyeurism, panty sniffing, masturbation (male), nipple play, cunnilingus, anilingus, hair pulling, blow job, praise kink, unprotected sex, unintentionally rough sex, mild cum play, creampie.

The small utility closet is inconspicuous, tucked at the far end of one hall, away from the living quarters and around a corner almost no one ever takes, save for the occasional person assigned to some of the maintenance tasks around the Vault. However, their hours are predictable, and the dinky little room had become somewhat of a place of refuge for him over the years. Since he was a boy, when he really wanted to be alone, he'd steal away to this hidden, quiet place, spending as much time sat on an upturned bucket, studying various manuals, savoring the silence, as he thought he could get away with.

This day, however, it had only been a few minutes of peace before he could hear the telltale sound of someone fiddling with the lock. He'd taught himself how to re-seal the lock from inside, but it could still be picked from the outside by someone who knew how. Panicking for a moment, he sat frozen, gripping the systems terminal manual in his lap so tight he was afraid he'd rip the pages. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. The only person who knew about his penchant for hiding away here was Lucy, and she wouldn't just barge in. She would linger down the hall, near the more common areas, waiting to see him emerge so she wouldn't draw attention.

Maybe he could lie and say he accidentally got locked inside.

However, his overthinking proves unnecessary when the door flings open and the very person whose visage he'd come here to escape steps inside, her head peeking around the corner before she lets the door close behind her.

When she lets out a deep sigh, leaning her forehead against the door, he realizes she hasn't seen him tucked away in the corner, and he knows he needs to say something quickly.

"Uh, hey." he says lamely, slowly rising from his spot, setting the book aside.

She does jump, but when she turns and sees him, her reaction is more positive than he expects.

"Hi there." she replies, her eyes darting around somewhat awkwardly in what he guesses is embarrassment. "Sorry, I assumed this particular random broom closet would be unoccupied."

There's a bit of a pause as he takes in what she said, leaving the two sort of shuffling back and forth as they stare at one another.

"Well, I guess you know what they say about assumptions." he jokes, desperate to ease the weird vibe quickly filling the room. To his pleasant surprise, this earns a seemingly genuine chuckle from her, and the warm, sweet sound makes him smile wider than he has in a long time.

"Well, my apologies. I can find another closet to hang out in." she smiles.

"Oh, please. Feel free to stay and take advantage of the luxurious accommodations as long as you'd like." he says, sweeping his hand in a grand gesture around the space, highlighting the stacks of boxes and shelves of janitorial supplies.

She outright laughs at that.

"You're the Overseer's son, right? Lucy's brother? I'm surprised I don't see you more."

There's a bitter taste in the back of his throat at her words, but he knows she's just making an observation to keep the conversation going,

"Yeah, Norm. I'm fairly practiced at blending into the background." he introduces, sticking his hand out in front of him rather awkwardly for her to shake. His palm feels a little clammy as she presses her own against it, and he cringes internally at how damp it must feel to her. She doesn't react, however, keeping eye contact with him as they shake firmly.

"Norm." she repeats, and hearing her lips wrap around his name like that makes him shiver in a way he really hopes isn't noticeable. She introduces herself, and he politely listens, rather expertly pretending that he hasn't had all the information she gives him for weeks. It would be difficult to not know of her purely due to her popularity as a topic of discussion, but he knows he would have been fascinated by her, regardless. Something about her, something beyond the physical beauty, is constantly drawing him to her, making her take over his thoughts since she'd arrived.

"So..." he asks. "Hiding from someone?"

She looks rather sheepish for a moment.

"Maybe a few someones. I've been pretty hard-pressed for peace and quiet since we all got here. I knew people would be excited to meet us, but I really wasn't expecting how much people would wanna talk to me, personally. I'm used to a little more alone time than this."

I don't blame them. he thinks. I want to be around you all the time, too, and I hardly know you.

"I mean, really, you're welcome to hang out in here. No one comes in here most of the time, save for once a week or so. I can leave if you wanna be alone." he offers, somewhat awkwardly making a move towards the door.

"Oh, no, please!" she insists, her warm hand resting on his chest for a moment as she tries to stop him. His heart breaks into a sprint. "I don't wanna kick you out of your spot. Maybe I could just sit in here with you for a few minutes?"

He's rather taken aback by her offer, but he certainly isn't going to turn her down, gesturing to a stack of boxes to his right

"Terminal manuals?" she asks, thumbing through the tome he'd been reading when she arrived. "Trying to join the IT team?"

"Oh, no." he says. "It's more of a...hobby, I guess."

"Ahh. So you're teaching yourself to hack into things." she replies, her tone teasing as she cuts her eyes at him. "I could teach you a thing or two."

"Careful, I'll take you up on that." he teases, and she giggles again.

For a long while, maybe an hour or so, the two sit in mostly silent company, browsing through the stack of manuals that lived on the shelf they crowded around. Occasionally, she asks him an innocuous, simple question, or makes a small joke. He aches to do the same, but holds his tongue unless spoken to for fear that he'll say something weird. The tight space of the utility closet is warm, full of the lingering tang of solder and old, crispy book pages.

Eventually, she stands and stretches, smiling at him before placing the book in her hand back on the shelf. She bends over the stack of boxes she'd been sitting on as she does, and he can't pull his eyes away from the shape of her ass jutting out at him. He digs his teeth into his cheek until it hurts to distract himself.

"Alright, I need to get back to that rewiring project I was working on." she says, stretching as she turns to face him. "Thanks for letting me hang out with you, Norm. Let's do it again soon."

"Yeah." he chuckles, trying to remain casual as his gut tightens at the sound of his name on her lips again. "Like I said, whenever."

He doesn't really believe she means what she says, but she does grin rather eagerly before she disappears out the door, leaving him alone in the silence once more. He waits a while longer before following.

That night, he dreams of her. He doesn't try to, but nevertheless, she's there, hidden away in that closet with him again, her intoxicating smell filling the space completely, making his head swim even more than the surreal-feeling setting. Almost everything is eerily similar, only this time he doesn't have to worry about being defeated by his own cowardice...

...and this time she's literally welcoming him with open arms, calling him to her eagerly with that bright smile plastered to her angelic face.

He knows she was only being friendly when she'd laughed at his jokes, that the smile she'd flashed him was probably one she used with everyone. But in that moment, it had felt like it was just for him, and the memory of it makes him shudder strongly as he feels the pressure of her hands against his chest, tugging him closer by the breast pockets of his suit.

"Norm." she beckons, and her seductive voice rings through his head. The dream is bordering on lucid; he knows this can't possibly be real, but wants it to be so badly that he pushes forward, pressing his face into the flesh of her throat. It's warm and ghostly and tingles against him like television static, his brain apparently unable to even guess at how heavenly soft her real skin would be.

Endless praise pours from his mouth, breathless words of worship that don't quite make it to his ears. When he makes full contact with her, she's suddenly completely naked, stood there in all her full, soft glory, her loose hair framing her face beautifully as she wraps her leg around his hip, pushing herself at him eagerly. She doesn't say anything, but he can feel her pleading, begging, and he can feel himself overheating as he fumbles with his fly. She kisses him as his cock slides against her skin, and an almost inhuman growl leaves her as he finds her opening and slips inside, his hips moving quickly and harshly against hers...

Norm wakes rather violently, the sudden, pooling warmth of his spend tainting his sheets ripping him from sleep. It takes a moment for his head to clear, the fog of sleep making it difficult to determine if what he's experiencing now is any more real than what he was experiencing a moment ago. This, however, is much less pleasant. Stumbling a bit as he scrambles to his feet, he takes in the mess all over him, all over the bed, a cold wave of shame washing over him as he makes his way into the bathroom to retrieve a rag. Stripping naked, he shivers unpleasantly as the cool, wet cloth moves across his hot, sticky skin. His cock is still incredibly sensitive in the wake of his orgasm, and he glares at it as it continues to throb softly, not yet deflated.

The humiliation he feels at kneeling beside his bed, naked and tired and scrubbing a mess off of his sheets, is intense. Accompanying it, an overwhelming sense of guilt at reducing her to fodder for his sexual fantasies after talking to her exactly one time. He's no better than any of the other men in the Vault, he thinks. Something of this nature hasn't happened to him since he was a teenager, and apparently all it takes to reduce him to a hormonal mess once more is the presence of a nice, attractive woman who doesn't completely ignore him.

In the aftermath of the frantic cleaning, he sits on the edge of the mattress, hiding his burning face in his hands as he tries his best to will away the second erection plaguing him. Several long, grating minutes pass, the young man too busy staring at the wet spot on his sheets and internally berating himself to even think of trying to get back to sleep.

Eventually, his increasing fatigue and frustration come to a head, and he begrudgingly makes his way to the shower, letting the hot water blast him with a deep sigh. He wastes time for a few minutes, washing his hair unnecessarily before moving to soap his body, pointedly avoiding his aching cock, flushed red and angry at his neglect. If he's going to be a creep, he can at least practice a bit of self control. However, eventually the water begins to cool, and he begrudgingly pops open the bottle of conditioner from the shelf beside him, dropping a generous glob in his hand.

He strokes himself quickly, harshly, trying to finish himself off as efficiently as possible, embarrassed at the way he can't keep the image of her out of his mind, no matter how hard he tries to think about anything else. The brief view he'd gotten of her ass bent over at the waist is drilled into his head, hips bucking hard into his own grip at the thought of sliding his cock into her from behind, burying his face in her soft hair as he pumps away at her, making her squirm and come apart around him. The thought makes him explode, spattering cum across the shower floor and wall.

Resting his forehead against the warm tile, his hand splashes away the mess before fumbling for the nozzle, the spray gurgling to a halt and leaving him standing there, nude and dripping wet, alone with his thoughts. His plan had worked, at least somewhat; he feels nothing now but guilt, mild worry, and the chill of the increasingly cold shower stall. Wrapping himself in a towel and taking in his seemingly half-drowned form in the mirror, he resolves to continue essentially avoiding her. The way he sees it, he's doing her a favor, his ability to act normally around her feeling more and more nonexistent by the day.

Little does he know, his new acquaintance is formulating other plans.

[jinnxedy]

fair/carnival date with Leon

I made a re2 and re4 version, this one goes to the older versions of Leon. It could be re6, vendetta, ID or DI, whoever you want :)

pt. 1 / pt. 2

☆Imagine you went to a fair/carnival alone, with no plans to meet someone whatsoever, and you see Leon alone playing a shooter game.

☆ I mean, who wouldn't approach this man? Sure, he's scary looking but whatever.

☆ Worries aside, you approach him, it wouldn't hurt to give it a try.

☆ You're surprised by his shooting skills, deciding to compliment him on it.

☆ Leon doesn't notice you at first, he's startled by the attention you're giving him, though he's not complaining.

☆ it takes him a second to answer you back, he's just a bit surprised that you approached him, out of all the people you could've chosen.

☆ And he's so awkward about it too omg

☆ This old man isn't used to this, give him a break. After all those years of not having a serious relationship, it takes him some time to get used to it.

☆ You two keep a nice conversation going, and it seems so genuine, lighthearted, Leon loved it. That's exactly what he's been looking for, something serious.

☆ Leon took the risk, asking if you wanted to tag along with him and look around the fair/carnival, which of course you said yes, who would let this opportunity pass?

☆ In such a short amount of time, Leon took a liking to you. He was infatuated with you as a whole person, it made him want more.

☆ It's safe to say that this old man didn't want to part ways with you.

thank you so much @m33pl0v3 for the idea :))

Also, im sorry this was kinda half assed and so rushed, I just wanted to get this out of my drafts. It's just so hard to imagine any older version of Leon at a fair/carnival, seems almost impossible :(

[unknownperson246]

Can we get a stalker Vince one? Maybe GGG era Vince

✮⋆Rockstar Stalker⋆✮

Words: 1,126

warnings: *smut* *p in v* *dirty talk* *weapons* *fingering* *stalking* *breaking in* *cussing* *slight degradation*

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

You were scared to step outside because someone had been stalking you. It was a mystery because they did not reveal themselves to you. It was the year 1987 when Motley Crue's Girls Girls Girls album came out. You were a fan of Motley Crue and you wanted to go to one of their concerts with a friend. You bought the tickets because your friend agreed that she would be there with you. Your friend bailed on you at the last minute so you gave the ticket to a random person and you went yourself. You drove up there and You couldn't believe you were at a Motley Crue concert in the front row watching them and cheering them on as the concert went on. You get a clear view of everyone on the stage. Vince wouldn't stop staring at you but you brushed it off because you thought he could be looking at anyone there are a bunch of people and things here to stare at. After the concert was over you felt amazed like you just woke up from a dream. You were walking to your car after you left the stadium. You saw a man's figure in the shadows. You thought it was your stalker.

“Huh, who could that be?” You say curiously.

You decide to ignore it for now because it could be anyone who is leaving the stadium. You enter your car and start to drive. As you drive you can see an expensive-looking car following behind you in your rearview mirror. As time goes on and you get closer to your house you can see the car still following you.

“Son of a bitch that better not be you motherfucker” You say while staring at the bright headlights in your rearview mirror.

 You grab the knife you kept in the glove box of your car. You decide to stop on the side of the road to see if the car is still following you. Your hand was gripping your knife in case your stalker was going to step out.

“Please let it not be that creep” You whisper under your breath continuously.

 To your surprise, it kept on driving. You let out a breath of relief and you continue driving home. Once you were home you saw the figure of a man standing in your bedroom through your upstairs window you saw the door wide open. You start to freak out. 

“Fuck this piece of shit won't leave me alone damn it,” You say annoyed.

You remember that you keep a gun in every room in case someone breaks in. You suspect it was the person stalking you. You grab your gun from the living room and courageously walk in with the gun pointing at where you thought the man was standing.

“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE YOU BASTARD” You yell at the top of your lungs shooting at different places in your room. 

When you look at the man it's Vince Neil. Vince Neil was standing in your bedroom. Could Vince be my stalker? You thought to yourself confused. You stand there flabbergasted having no idea what to even say to him.

“Yo- Your Vince Neil” You stammer.

“Fuck yeah, I am” He smirks.

Your gun slips out of your hand because you think this is all a dream. He was still in the outfit he performed the concert in. You were trying to remember if you took any hallucinatory drugs before you left.

“Hi baby girl,” He says smirking. He approaches you.

“Why the fuck? Have you been the one stalking me?” You ask.

“Yes. You just look so beautiful and you caught my attention. I am your crazy stalker and you can't be with anyone else besides me. You drive me insane woman.” He says smirking.

“Vince, I don't believe anything right now. A rockstar has been stalking me” You say in disbelief.

“Well now that you know it's me I want to mark you as my girlfriend,” Vince says, his eyes heavy with lust. 

You don't say anything. You knew he was harmless even if he broke inside your home. Vince approaches you and starts to nibble your neck. You didn't stop him because your dream of being a rockstar's girlfriend was becoming real. This was your once-in-a-lifetime chance to be with a rockstar who was crazy about you.  He was obsessed with the idea of you being his girlfriend. You weren't going to miss this opportunity. 

“Hm I see that you like your crazy rockstar stalker boyfriend, don't you?  Only sluts date rock stars like me” He whispers in your ear. 

“Vince I want to be your whore” You say to him after you rip his stage clothes off. 

“Fuck me,” You say to Vince.

“That's what I was planning to do. I am going to fuck your pretty little cunt so hard” His breath is becoming heavier. You can feel his cock burning with lust. You can feel how hard he is. He takes your pants off and he starts to stick his fingers in you with his leather gloves on.

“Do you like that my slut?”

“Oh I love it” You moan lightly as Vince sticks his long finger further into you.

“Your cunt is mine” He growls like an animal in your ear. 

He pushes you on the bed and starts to put his cock in you. His hips align with yours and he starts to thrust his cock at an unreal pace.

“Oh, Vince fuck me” You cry out you could feel his hard cock in you.

“Fuck Vince” You sigh loudly. 

Your nails dig deeper into his back every time he thrusts inside of you. 

“Good girl you're being so cooperative baby,” He says while his hard cock shoves itself inside of you every second.

His hips continued to slam into yours for 15 minutes.  

“Vince I’m going to come” You cry.

“Let it happen baby girl” He groans and grunts.

Before you came Vince threw his head back and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. You felt something shoot up inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” he groaned.

 You could feel his dick getting slightly softer. Before you knew it he dumped his wet load inside of you.

“It's your turn now sweetheart,” He said after he kept thrusting inside of you.

 You could feel your legs shaking like there was an earthquake. You felt a similar knot in your stomach. He kept hitting your g spot and with that. He could feel your pussy tightening on his cock

“You're so tight” He groans.

 You come all over his cock. You both take heavy breaths. You still couldn't believe you just became the girlfriend of a rock star.