#and now i'm on my third cup of coffee and should probably just take a nap

[ddejavvu]

Hotch with a totally shy medical examiner!!! He always visits her although sometimes it would‘nt be necessary ... 🫣🫣 Hotch got a crushhhhhh !!

The team notices that Hotch seems to be injuring himself more and more now that Quantico has a medical wing installed. Because of a rather unfortunate incident on floor 4, where a woman had an allergic reaction and no one was able to find her an epipen in time, there's now a mini-clinic located just across the elevators on floor 5.

Hotch doesn't even bother notifying his team of where he's going this time. He simply barrels towards the glass doors that shield the BAU from the hallway outside, but JJ doesn't let him escape that easily.

"Hotch, is everything okay?"

She expects him to say that there's been some sort of emergency at Jack's school, that he needs to pick the boy up. But she shouldn't, she should have expected what must be the most frequent phrase out of his mouth in the past three weeks.

"Fine. I've got a headache, I'm going to the clinic."

He offers no room for his team's replies as he pushes through the glass doors, standing by the elevators and waiting impatiently. His gaze is so intense on the metal doors that he's surprised he doesn't burn right through them, but the elevator finally reaches him, and he steps inside without looking back into the BAU to see his team members staring.

"He's so full of shit," Derek scoffs, "He doesn't have a headache."

"I think he's got a perpetual headache," Reid muses, and Rossi, who'd been working on stirring his third cup of coffee for the day pipes up.

"I would, if I had to manage you bozos all day," The man grins wryly, but doesn't exclude himself from the conversation; for all his teasing, he wants to gossip about Hotch too.

"Nah. He just wants to see the hot nurse," Derek insists, "I've seen her. She's cute, and all, but she's no Savannah."

"Maybe I should have a headache later," Emily muses, lost in thought and toying with the necklace resting on her chest.

"He's gonna have to start finding new excuses," Derek leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other with his ankle against his knee, "Maybe he'll ask one of us to shoot him just so he can get her hands all over him packing up the bullet hole."

"And that is my cue to leave," Rossi grimaces, "I don't often like mixing sex with wound care."

The older man pointedly ignores Derek's comment about how that's probably why he's thrice divorced; he's not freaky enough. He shuts his office door behind him and conversation putters out among the bullpen, each agent stuck with a residual smirk on their faces as they get back to their paperwork.

--

"Agent Hotchner," You smile kindly up at the man who steps through the doors of your clinic, "I'm not sure why I even looked up, I should have known it was you."

He chuckles bashfully, hands tucked into his pockets, "I haven't been getting much sleep lately, so I've got a pretty persistent migraine."

"Is it hard, sleeping after a day at your job? The things you see," You trail off, reaching into a drawer at your desk to retrieve a bottle of excedrin, "I don't think I'd be sleeping either."

Aaron's suddenly flustered by your concern for him. He'd intended for his poorly crafted excuse to come across as light insomnia, too much coffee during the day or a scary movie at night. But as you reach out to hand over two tablets of medicine, he meets your eyes with a fond gaze.

"I'm alright," He assures you, his voice soft and earnest. He touches you more than necessary, taking your loose fist in his hand and uncurling your fingers for you so that the excedrin falls into his other palm bumped up against the heel of your hand.

You're surprised your hand doesn't start sweating at how flustered you've become, but you're glad for it. He secures the medicine in his fist, his hand still humming with the ghost of your touch.

"Sleep tonight," You warn him with a slightly weak voice, watching as he downs the pills with a gulp of water from a delicate paper cup stored by your sink, "Get off of any electronic devices for an hour before bed, read something boring, and keep the lights dim. And if none of that works, take sleeping pills, I can give you Tylenol PM if you don't have any at home."

"I'd love some," He smiles, lingering by the edge of your desk, "Thank you, Doctor."

"You can call me Y/N," You avert your eyes to your desk drawer, your voice feeble, "We see each other every day, you ought to be more familiar with me than that."

He chuckles, a soft exhale that sends butterflies with it into your stomach. You offer him the pills and again he takes your hand in his own, only making the fiery heat that burns at your cheeks more intense.

"Thank you. And you can call me Aaron," He takes the pulls from you, tucking them into the breast pocket of his button-up.

"Goodbye, Aaron," You grin, barely able to stop the expression from growing an embarrassing amount.

"Bye Y/N," He smiles back, eyes glimmering with fondness, "See you next time."

[yuurayuura]

kiss me again (part 1)

🎬 kim sunwoo is not a professional actor, yet somehow he's making it very hard not to fall for his performance.

PAIRING 🎬 sunwoo x fem!reader TAGS 🎬 actors au, fluff, suggestive (smut in the next part) WORD COUNT 🎬 4.8k WARNINGS 🎬 nope! AUTHOR’S NOTE 🎬 i'm obviously not an actor so i don't know how any of this really works :p

"Time doesn't stop... Doesn't stand still... Ah, fuck. Line?"

Sunwoo breaks into a disbelieving grin for the third time that evening, shaking his head and feeling like a complete amateur. Y/n smiles in that subtle way she does when he fucks up his lines, flipping through the script and making the room echo with page noise. That smile has become too familiar to him now. She smiles like you would when a child says something unintentionally funny, but you don't want to make them feel stupid by openly laughing. It's that vibe. He needs to get it together.

It's so quiet and warm, almost humid, in the little meeting room they have table readings in nowadays, and he can feel the heat from his palms resting on his thighs. The little oscillating fan in the corner doesn't help in the slightest.

"It's okay," the director comments, scribbling something in the margins of the script that Y/n hands her. "We might change it. But as it is, the line is 'time never stops for anyone. It certainly hasn't for me, even if I wished it would. Many times.'"

"Right, sorry," Sunwoo says, pulling his collar in an attempt to let some cooler air in.

"Why don't we take a break?" The lead actress suggests, stretching her arms out. "We've been at it for hours."

Sunwoo keeps forgetting her name, but that's because they don't have any scenes together. In fact, most of the scenes he has are with Y/n, his on-screen love interest, and both of your roles are quite small. He suspects that much of it will be cut in the end, it's just a short film after all. He's only doing it because it's fun.

Y/n meets him by the water cooler, and hands him a copy of the script that sits warm in his hands, feeling like it's fresh off the printer.

"Thought you could use it," she says, with a twinkle in her eye like she's teasing him, but being nice about it. Maybe too nice? He's sure he deserves a lot more after his dismal display lately. It seems that's just the way she is, carefully teasing, maybe because they haven't known each other for that long. She's probably holding back, sticking to polite banter.

"I could, yeah," he mumbles through a smile, sipping his little paper cup of water. "I spilled coffee on mine earlier, that's why I didn't have one. Ugh. I feel like I'm just annoying everyone in there. I don't know what's up with my brain today."

Y/n shakes her head. "Nah, everyone has those days, I think. It's just your turn."

That makes him look up at her, and she meets his eyes with another gentle smile.

"I'm glad you're the one I'm paired with," she says, too casually, for that kind of statement. "I think it'll come out great."

"Ditto," Sunwoo says, more airy than he means to. "I mean. Yeah. I agree."

He wants to say that he's glad too, and we have good chemistry, don't you think?

He doesn't say that, though, that might be pushing it. They only met a couple of days ago. Although, from what he's read ahead in the script, they're going to need as much chemistry as possible to do the upcoming scenes. Their story is a tragic romance after all, with a lot of tension, eye contact, and desperate kissing.

He can't think about that now. It's not like either of them are professional actors, and that should lighten the pressure, but it doesn't, not really.

There's something about her that makes him want to be great, fantastic, so maybe she'll see him in a good light afterwards.

"Oh, duty calls," she smirks, and his heart does a little maneuver that he doesn't anticipate when she touches his arm to make him follow.

Y/n's POV:

Sunwoo is a good actor. Too good to do crap like this, you think, thoughts drifting in the parts of the table read that don't involve your character. He has this aura surrounding him that makes him so believable, even when he goes off script—or maybe especially then. 

When the casting director introduced them, you thought there had been some sort of mix up, because what in the world were you doing next to someone like that. Someone who commanded the room like he did, not to mention how good-looking he was. You saw his audition, and expected him to be the lead, or at least a major role. Not doing some tiny side story with you.

Your obvious bewilderment had made him chuckle, seemingly not understanding the confusion. Just like that, something you just did for extra credit in college became the highlight of your summer.

"Y/n," the writer hums, clicking her pen. "That's your cue."

"Shit, sorry," you mumble, and you don't miss the happy little twitch on Sunwoo's lips. He's probably glad he's not the only one who's messing up.

"So," Sunwoo says, when you're done for the day, and you try not to openly look at his lips when he's talking, but it's an impossible situation. They're very nice lips. "I had an idea, and tell me if I'm out of line, but I thought maybe we should do our own read, just us. I'm just not getting this middle part to stick, and Lord knows the scenes coming up aren't going to be easier."

"No, I was thinking the same thing," You nod, chewing the back end of your pencil. "I think that's a smart move for us. Then we can show up on Monday and dazzle the hell out of everyone at the reading with our amazing acting slash memory."

You smirk and Sunwoo chuckles, looking over at you for a second. His eyes are also very nice eyes. It's almost too much for just one person.

"Okay, then," he says, raising his eyebrows. "Who lives closer? I'm about fifteen minutes from here."

"Oh, then I win, my place is ten," You grin.

"Make yourself at home," you yell, disappearing to the bathroom to tidy up, just a little bit. "I'm sorry it's not sparkling here, I'm barely home lately."

You can hear Sunwoo's quiet chuckle from the living room, toeing off his shoes before he enters.

"Don't worry, I'm blind as a bat without my glasses anyway," he assures. "Won't be seeing anything tonight."

"Good," you joke, getting the light on your way back.

You make tea for yourself and instant coffee for Sunwoo, it's all you have to offer but he doesn't seem to mind, sipping it blissfully.

"This is somehow better than the coffee at the studio," he mumbles, making you grin.

"Damn. My condolences."

He laughs, and you flip the scripts to the right pages, settling in comfortably on the sofa. Sunwoo has put on his round reading glasses, and it might be the late hour and the tiredness speaking, but he looks so unfairly beautiful. Especially when the glasses slide down on the bridge of his nose a little, and he uses the back of his hand to push them back up.

He gives you a half timid look over the glasses. "Ready?"

"Yup, I can read us in, since you start."

You clear your throat, preparing to use your best narrator voice. "June's apartment, night time. June is sat by the window, looking out at the city. Minsoo enters, cold from the blizzard."

"I got the job," Sunwoo says, in character, looking at you with what feels like genuine excitement. "I finally got it."

You smile down at the script, getting into character as well. "That's really great. Congratulations."

You go through the scene several times, giving each other pointers and trying to make it fit as well as you can.

"This, wow," Sunwoo mumbles, running a hand through his hair. "Are we nailing this? I might just be tired, but I think we are."

His smile is so infectious, your cheeks are hurting from reciprocating it all night.

"Dude, I think we are," you agree, and Sunwoo snickers. "We could move on to the next one? But I feel like we should be standing if we do."

"Yeah, you're right."

You stand up and move to approximate positions in the small living room. It's a bit ridiculous at first, but it feels more real when you actually have to look at each other over some distance, and move across the room.

"Minsoo's apartment, night time," you say.

"June..." Sunwoo says, and it's crazy how good he is at doing that, flipping the switch from Sunwoo to the character instantly. His brows furrow when he looks at you, and you can feel it, how his body language is so in tune with what he's trying to say, the longing and the pain in his voice.

"We can't," you say, as June. "You know we can't."

You're pretty good at crying on command so you think, what the hell, might as well pull out all the stops tonight, feeling tears form in your eyes as you look over at Sunwoo.

He seems surprised for a second that you're crying, and you don't know if it's acting or not. Which really says it all about his skills.

"Please don't cry," he mumbles, starting to close the distance between you, but stopping halfway, holding himself back, and letting his arm fall from the outstretched position where he was reaching after you. "Please."

You blink and let a few tears escape, and the room is so silent you can hear them hit the floor beneath you. You follow the script and get down on your knees, vision blurring from the tears.

"Let's not end like this," Sunwoo pleads, closing in with gentle steps, stopping to lower himself to your level on the floor. "June. I love you so much, I don't want to make you cry."

He takes your hands in his, squeezing them, and then lets them go in favor of wiping tears from your cheeks with such tenderness, it's hypnotizing.

"Don't leave me, Min," You say, voice quivering in the quiet room. "I don't know what I'll do, when... When..."

You trail off and Sunwoo tilts your head up to meet his eyes, sending shivers down your spine.

"Shh," he breathes, his thumb wiping the edge of your lower lip, catching a tear.

You look into each other's eyes for five long seconds, trying to really convey the inner battle going on in your characters. You know he's counting, just like you are, and then Sunwoo pulls you in for the kiss.

You knew it was coming, of course you knew, you read it about a thousand times just to make sure. But it still makes your whole body light up. Your mind goes completely blank, forgetting any and every line you just rehearsed. All you can process is the feeling of Sunwoo's soft lips on yours, the longing in it, the collapse of his restrain. Minsoo's restrain, but, you know.

Sunwoo cups your face and you stand up on your knees, closer, but not close enough. You never want it to end but have to keep reminding yourself to be professional. Not let it slip how much you're enjoying this. He's a good kisser, not too forceful, but sweet and just desperate enough for this scene. You can't help the way your hand lifts and runs through the hair at the back of his neck, making him sigh into your mouth.

When you break it off, you're both a little out of breath, and you don't want to, but remember the script.

You push him away, almost making him lose his balance.

"We can't," you repeat, whispering. "I... I can't do this."

"June," Sunwoo pleads, watching you like a kicked dog as you get up and leave him there.

"Aaand, scene," You mumble, wiping the tears with your sleeve, chuckling. Not really ready to meet his eyes.

"Holy shit," Sunwoo breathes, now on his feet in front of you. "I didn't expect you to actually cry. That was impressive."

You laugh in disbelief. "That was impressive? You could be on TV, or like. Huge stages. I'm speechless, honestly. I don't know how you do it."

"Thank you," he mumbles, his ears pink. "I hope I didn't overdo it, with the... Um. With the kiss," he says, scratching his neck, and you want to pull him in for another one then and there.

"No, uh. It was excellent. Very believable."

"Back at you," Sunwoo smiles.

There isn't enough air in the room for this.

"Actually I thought I might try something, if it's alright," Sunwoo says, as you sit down on the couch again. "Regarding the kiss."

You can tell he's trying not to make it awkward. Which is cute.

"Sure, shoot," You reply, very hard at work to not seem so affected by this.

"I'm thinking, you know. Minsoo needs to show her what she means to him, how much he wishes he could stay... So I'll try to put some more emotion behind it. Maybe we can "choreograph" some moves into it. I'll show you what I mean."

You look at him and he looks almost shy, running a hand through his hair.

"If that's okay, of course."

"More emotion," You reply, a little breathier than intended. "Alright. Show me. You want me to cry? Set the mood?"

Sunwoo laughs, airy and wonderful. "No, that's alright. I'll pretend."

You shift a little, so you're on your knees on the couch, facing him. "Okay. I'm on the floor, Minsoo approaches. Go."

"Let's not end like this," Sunwoo says, his voice soft as he looks into your eyes, pleading. He knows the lines now, the script is abandoned on the floor where he left it. "June..."

He takes your hands, and his own are warm and gentle. "I love you so much, I don't want to make you cry."

He does what he did last time, except now you aren't crying, so when he touches your face it's just that—a touch. Very careful caresses across your cheeks. You try to focus, try not to let yourself get lost in his eyes.

"Don't leave me, Min," you whisper, and somehow it feels so much more intimate now, sitting like this. "I don't know what I'll do when... When..."

You lower your gaze and Sunwoo tilts your head back up, like he's supposed to. His eyes are so emotive, it's incredibly impressive to see the nuances he's able to work into a simple look. It makes you want to do better too. Try to even it out.

"Shh," he breathes, and this time it's barely audible at all.

He looks into your eyes and you can feel the thump thump thump of your heart, like a clock running too fast. You forget to count the seconds, but maybe that's good, maybe the sharp, surprised inhale that slips past your lips will make it more believable. Sunwoo's lips move against yours with purpose, but also a tender compassion that has you melting into his touch, wanting more. He pulls at your bottom lip when he sits back, just barely moving away, speaking against your mouth.

"Maybe," he breathes, breaking character, forehead against yours. "Maybe I could do something like this."

He wipes slowly at the imaginary tears, then presses a careful kiss under your left eye, then the right, before he captures your lips and takes your breath away once more.

"Or, maybe," he continues, still against your lips, voice so delightfully hushed and low, "I can move my hands?"

His left hand brushes through your hair at the side of your head, before coming to rest and holding you in place. The right hand slides over your shoulder and stops at the collarbone, thumb dipping into the groove there, and you can't help the slight sound that escapes you.

Sunwoo quickly looks at you to see if he's done something wrong, but you just blink quickly and nod.

"Yes, um. That's. Very good."

"Good," he breathes, smiling, and, fuck. Fuck. Jesus.

"I'm a worse actor than I thought," You confess, biting your lip in a smile.

"No, but, isn't it good if you actually... like it?" Sunwoo smiles, tentatively, still holding you. "Then you won't have to pretend as much?"

You can't argue with that logic.

When you kiss again, for the third-ish time that night, you know it's coming. But it doesn't help, it doesn't stop being mind-blowing for that reason. Sunwoo tries a few different spots to touch you, all very PG but still a lot. At one point, you decide to do that as well—why not—work in your character's desperateness a bit more acutely.

You touch his neck and put a hand on his chest, pulling his shirt a little, and he gasps, making you pull back in worry.

"No, no, do it again," he mumbles, looking flushed.

It's good to know he's also a little flustered. That boosts your confidence enough to pull him a little closer when you continue where they left off, change the angle a little, move a little over to offense rather than the defensive, slightly passive, and timid stance you've taken thus far.

He doesn't seem like he expected that, inhaling through his nose when your tongue experimentally touches his lower lip and your hand slides over the side of his neck again. You can feel his pulse knocking hard and steady under your fingertips, and it's difficult to say if it's the same tempo as your own. They sort of melt together into one, erratic beat.

"God," Sunwoo mumbles, and he smiles against your lips, making you break into a smile as well.

"Maybe that was a little too... Forward," you grin.

Sunwoo laughs again, and it's such a lovely sound.

"I don't know, I liked it," he says, looking bashful once more, sitting back on the couch.

You know that you'll get plenty of takes for this, and probably a lot of directions. These aren't decisions that are entirely up to you two, there's no real need to practice this much.

But you won't say that out loud. you know he must be aware of it too, he's more experienced, he knows how it works. Why would you bring this to an end, if he doesn't?

"You're a good kisser," you comment, unusually bold, looking at the table. Shooting him a quick grin.

"So are you," Sunwoo smiles, fiddling with your copy of the script that was on the couch.

"They won't see this coming."

"No, they won't," you laugh.

You nudge his leg, and you don't want the night to end yet, but you can barely keep your eyes open.

"The couch is yours for the night, if you want it. I think I have to go to bed now."

"Thanks," he smiles, nudging you back. "I was hoping you would suggest that. Was really dreading the walk home."

"Of course, silly," you mumble. Still smiling stupidly.

You take turns brushing your teeth (you actually had a spare toothbrush, pretty incredible), and when it's all done, you come out to say goodnight. Sunwoo sits on the couch, stifling a yawn, and you walk over to give him a pillow.

"You know," you start, voice raspy and tired. You sit down on the opposite end. "I had a friend, an actor friend, who told me that after doing pretend-kisses for jobs, regular kissing never held up anymore. That it changed, somehow, and real kissing didn't have the same spark."

Sunwoo looks at you in the low light, brows furrowed.

"I guess I could understand that. Since there's a lot of suspense and build up that maybe there isn't in real life, a lot of the time."

"Yeah," You breathe. His eyes are so warm.

"But at the same time... Nothing beats the real thing, in my opinion. It's not the same when it's planned out."

He cocks his head to the side a little. "Are you worried?"

"I wasn't when she said that, way back," you admit, hands twisting. "But... I don't know. That was pretty amazing, back there."

Sunwoo blinks, feigning innocence. "Our kiss?"

"Yeah," you mumble, blushing. "So now, I. Well. I don't know. Maybe she was on to something."

"No way," Sunwoo says, grinning, scooting a little closer. "There's nothing like that rush of uncertainty and just pure... realness that comes from a true kiss. You'll see, next time you do it. I'm sure of it. Don't worry."

You smile, and give a little shrug. "Okay. If you say so."

"And if not, well, I can't help it if I'm such a good kisser that no one else will compare."

Sunwoo giggles when you swing the pillow at him, eliciting a yelp.

"Should've known that would boost your ego too much."

"It's an excellent pickup line, though," he grins, hugging the pillow so you can't assault him with it. "Like, after kissing you, I'm not sure real kisses will do it for me... You should save that for future co-stars that you want to woo."

"I'm not trying to pick up or woo anyone, I was honestly worried!" You protest, glad that the lighting is low so he can't see your blushing cheeks as you get up.

"No, I know," he says quickly, "I'm not making fun, it was just... cute."

"Cheeky," You grin. "Goodnight, Sunwoo. Don't let the monsters and evil spirits drawn to big egos get ya."

Sunwoo chuckles. "I won't. I'm monster repelling. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Cut!" The director yells, and you turn your head, looking back and Sunwoo with a grin. He's already smiling at you, and it widens when your eyes meet.

You'd been right, the practice session did blow everyone away at the reading, and it helped even more now when they're actually filming.

"Love the energy," the director comments, flipping through the script. "But I'm thinking, maybe we could get even more passion in here? Heat it up a little?"

The writer scribbles notes and Sunwoo nods quickly, getting back to the starting position. You swallow thickly. More heat, eh? Great idea.

"Sunwoo if you can grab her more, like, intensely, that'd be great. And Y/n, really lean into it, like the character is giving in a little more. Show how much they want each other."

Splendid.

"Action!"

You do the scene as usual up until the kiss, and Sunwoo does like he's told, he ups the ante. Grabs you by the small of your back and molds you together until you don't know where you end and he starts. He bites your lip and you gasp, trace his jaw, his neck, and feel your pulse beating in wild protest. This is not good for your heart at all.

Pro actors are probably able to separate realities and not become so affected. But, like Sunwoo said, isn't it better if you like it and won't have to act so much?

"Cut! Wonderful, guys—let's do one more where we barely keep within the rating. Just to see."

Sunwoo eyes you, almost a little concerned, drinking his water.

"I just need a drink, I'll be quick," you yell, jogging to the water cooler.

Sunwoo's there when you turn around, looking that way again, like he's almost shy.

"Is there anything that's... off limits?" he asks, timidly fiddling with his cup. "I really don't want to overstep, but since we're going off script, I just. Yeah. Tell me and I won't do it."

You smile, swirling the leftover water in the cup. It's very attractive that he asks.

"I mean, no, I don't think there is... I don't know what you could do that would be crossing the line, really? Obviously, I'm not going to undress or anything. But other than that... I think... touching is okay."

Sunwoo guffaws and you laugh a little, obvious tension in the air.

"Okay, uh. Good," Sunwoo breathes. "Then. Let's go, I guess."

You get back into your positions, and you shoot him a thumbs up before it starts. Even though this—this is dangerous for sure.

"Aaand, action!"

This kiss feels different, maybe because this is something you haven't rehearsed for, in the same sense. You're both unprepared. You're not sure what Sunwoo has acted in before, but you can't imagine it's been quite this heated.

Sunwoo kisses you like it's his last hour or something, and you try to keep up, let yourself be swept away. Normally, you're very aware of your surroundings and the numerous people filming, watching and moving around in the room. Now, strangely, your mind blanks. It's a power Sunwoo has that scares you a little bit, making you forget everything.

The two of you push it. Sunwoo bites your lip again and makes you blush, pulling your hair a little. You let your hands roam properly, feeling his chest rise and fall and tracing the lean muscles on his abdomen. When you rest your hands on his hips, you boldly push one of them under the hem of his t-shirt, making contact with warm and soft skin, and Sunwoo full on moans into your mouth.

To say that it's affecting you would be an understatement.

Sunwoo traces the outline of your bra over the shirt you're wearing until he's fully cupping your breast, and wow. Wow.

It isn't until you finds yourself wanting to undo his pants, that the acute realization of the setting and people surrounding you dawns on you once more.

"Cut!"

There's scattered applause in the room, and you fall away from Sunwoo, panting, blushing, and sort of embarrassed that you let it go that far. But it was what you were supposed to do, so after a few seconds of catching your breath you get up, brush dust off your knees again, and look into Sunwoo's eyes almost defiantly, as if to prove to everyone that you're no wuss. This was nothing, you're no worse than a real actor.

And Sunwoo looks back up at you like a deer in the headlights, shuffling awkwardly on the floor while he waves off your outstretched hand.

"Um. Just. Give me a minute," he breathes, grinning sheepishly at the ground, face pink, and you could die when you realize why he can't get up yet.

"Oh, oh. Sorry—" you blurt, apologizing for some reason, and Sunwoo bites his lip, still grinning, his hand balled in a helpless fist next to him.

When you meet again, it's sundown, and you stand outside next to the food truck, watching beads of condensation roll leisurely down the closed hatch. Sunwoo stops next to you, hair wet from the shower, and leans on the truck, not realizing it's all slippery from the humidity.

He slips a little and bites his lip again like he wants to laugh, but thinks better of it. You watch him amused, eyebrow raised.

"Hey, uh," he starts, scratching his neck. "I just wanted to check that we're good, or that—well. Check if I need to apologize for... Before. Because I will, if you were... Um. If I made you uncomfortable. That was not my intent."

He meets your eyes, blush rising stubbornly on his face, and you aren't the slightest bit surprised by the urge to kiss him now. You can feel it in your fingers how they long to pull him in by the collar of his shirt and kiss away any awkwardness between you.

"Don't worry," you smile, and watch his shoulders relax a little more. "In my book, that was just superb acting."

Sunwoo finally lets out a breathy laugh that trills through the air as if it's been caged in. As if he was genuinely nervous that you were cross with him, which is ridiculous but endearing.

"Good," he mumbles, and you notice the tips of his ears are red now as well. "Good, um. Yeah. Final day of filming tomorrow, huh?"

You grin at the subject change and put your hands in your pockets, following Sunwoo on reflex as he turns slow, and starts walking to where his car is parked.

"Time flies," you agree, a twinge of something sad in your stomach. "It felt like it would last longer."

"Yeah," Sunwoo mumbles, stopping, clicking his keys. "It did."

You watch the car unlock and Sunwoo makes no move to get in, just stands there, looking at his keys jingling in his hand.

"Hey, you need a ride?" he says then, and you don't know if it's wishful thinking, or if he actually sounds hopeful. If he wants to drag this out for as long as possible, like you do.

"Yeah!" you say, a little too enthusiastically, even though you don't need a ride and you both know it.

Sunwoo's grin is wider than it's been all day.

Follow for part 2! It won't be very long, I'm working on it and it's about to get steamy🌞

[mooniema]

Can you pleaseee do something with Sae-byeok or Se-mi x barista reader?

Se-mi x reader - hot chocolate with marshmallows

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

pairing ; Se-mi x barista reader

summary ; on a saturday morning, while you were working as a barista, a stunning woman comes in and you accidently mess up her order

warnings ; shitty writing and she might be a little ooc idk, might delete it later if i get too embarrassed

words:

a/n ; this is my first request so i hope yall like it, I might write the one for Sae-byeok too or/and maybe make a second part on this if its wanted

Men dni

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

It was a particularly busy Saturday morning and you were at your new job in a café as a barista. It was your third day at work and you still had to bring a routine in doing your. Even though it was stressful and gave you even less free time, you know that you can't mess up, because you need the money to pay at least a part of your college fees, since your family isn't rich enough to pay everything alone.

So now you are here, serving customers during rush hour with a headache from all the noise and a smile on your face so you seem friendly enough.

When you had a moment of peace you started zooning out, looking out of the window to see the mist surrounding everything. No wonder people were rushing in, just looking outside made you feel cold.

A smooth voice interrupted your thoughts. "Hi, I´d like to order something" You quickly looked to see who was talking to you and you saw her. A short haired woman with piercings on nose and lips, which add to her beauty. She has a faint smirk on her face, studying you with her dark eyes and you can´t help, but feel small under her gaze. You quickly stopped staring at this intimidating woman and put on your customer smile. "Oh hi! Of course, what can I get for you?" "A caramel macchiato, please." You nod and point at a table. "Sit down on the table, while I make your order please"

You watch as the woman nods and goes over to the table, sits down and starts looking at her phone. Then you go to make her order and while doing so, your female coworker bumps into you and you land on the ground. "Omg, I'm so sorry!" The girl kneels down, quickly helping you up. "Can you do me a favor and make some orders for me? The guests there next to the door want one hot chocolate, one latte macchiato and two black coffees. Thank you!" You stare perplex as she rushes away through the backdoor to the 'employees only' area and sigh, feeling frustrated at her leaving you with even more work. You look over to the pretty customer from before, who seems occupied with her phone and you lean on the counter trying to remember what she ordered. Fuck, what did she order again? You think to yourself. You go through all the orders you remembered in your thoughts, before settling on hot chocolate. I'm pretty sure, it was hot chocolate... She probably wants to warm up from the cold. Maybe I should ask her again? You quickly shake your head at that. No way, I'm new at this job and this would just show, how unorganised I still am and she looks like she could bite my head off... I'll just make her hot chocolate and if its the wrong order, I'll make her the right order and pay for it and pray that my boss isn't watching.

You start making the hot chocolate and and after a bit you place some marshmallows in it and go to the counter with the cup in your hand, calling the intimidating girl over. You watch as the girl approaches with a nervous feeling in your stomach from not knowing if you messed her order up, but you try to keep your friendly smile. You hand over the hot chocolate. "Here is your order!" You watch as she takes it into her hands, decorated with silver rings and you notice her confused look. "Is everything okay?" "Uh yea, but that's not what I ordered... I ordered a caramel macchiato" You start to feel your cheeks redden from embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I'll go and make you a new drink" You reach out to get the drink, but instead of giving you it, she takes a sip. "No need to, I'll keep the hot chocolate" You try to insist on making her a new drink, but she just chuckles. "But Miss-, you don't have to drink that..." "No need to call me Miss... My name is Se-mi and instead of apologizing, just make it up to me by texting me later" She quickly scribbles her phone number on a napkin and hands it over to you with the money for the hot chocolate and then walks away, while you stare at her with a flushed and surprised expression. "Bye sweetheart and don't forget to text me!"

I'm so sorry, that this is so bad written and short, but I'm kinda stressed, because of school right now and I kinda rushed this. I might delete this later and maybe rewrite it, if I get inspiration.

[periprose]

Ps5 Peter Parker x reader inspired by this?

It's one of my favorite MerDer moments on Grey's anatomy 🙈😭

Peter explains something about physics or an idea for a gagdet...

🤣 this image really cracked me up lol thanks for the ask!! I've set the fic to take place in the first game, Peter and Reader are Otto's assistants at Octavius Industries. Please ignore the science mumbo jumbo in this fic.

/

Otto's lab was really cold this time of year. He barely had the funds to make rent in Manhattan, let alone provide optimal heating and other luxuries.

Still, you shiver, searching through your locker for your comfy, oversized jumper. You're just pulling it on when Peter pops up from behind you.

"Hey."

"Jesus!" You flinch and then rub your eyes. "Hey, Peter. How do you get behind me so fast? That's the third time this month I didn't even see you come in."

"Uh... I just have good reflexes, I think." Peter's mouth twists a little, as he tries not to laugh at your jumper. "Are you sure that's up to lab standards? Where's your lab coat?"

"Ah, Otto doesn't mind. He knows I'm cold." You explain, and Peter sighs.

"Well, he never gives me special treatment."

"Probably because you're not as cute as I am." You joke, but Peter nods and you feel a callous level of attraction towards him for being so nonchalant in terms of flirting.

You never really know where you stand with the guy. He's a naturally witty person and you refuse to read into anything any deeper, just for self preservation.

"Hey, I can't disagree with that." Peter laughs that quiet, soft laugh that makes you smile on your own. "Here, I got you a cup of coffee. That should help warm you up."

You look down and see, sure enough, Peter's holding a coffee cup tray, loaded with three cups, surely your usual orders- for you, extra black espresso to stay awake, for Peter, usually some kind of healthy tea hybrid, and for Otto, a large, creamy Italian coffee blend that's particularly expensive (Peter always jokes that Otto wastes funding on things like this).

"Oh, I'll pay you back." You reach back into your locker for your wallet, but Peter stops you with a raise of his hand.

"It's free of charge. No worries." He hands you the cup gently, and your hand skirts across his. You think for a moment.

"Nothing is ever really 'free of charge', Peter." You give him a side glance. In the last couple of months you've known this guy, you've figured out when he has an ulterior motive.

"... Alright, alright. You got me." Peter starts pulling you along by the hand, towards one of Otto's offices filled with white-boards and desks and equipment. You take a sip of your coffee and notice that it's still quite hot- Peter must've been really fast to make it so.

Not that you're complaining, and now that you're warmer you do feel more inclined to listen to him.

"Okay. You know how Otto's neural interface for the experimental arms have been glitching out?" Peter's got a firm look on his face, as you sit and listen.

"Yeah. It's a poor prototype, I think he asked us to leave it alone? He said he'd deal with it." You shrug. "I've moved on to his requests for a tighter, stronger arm. You know I deal with hardware."

"Yes, but even so, the neural interface problem still persists. Otto's lying." Peter looks at the whiteboard, and sees that half of it is covered all over with erratically drawn diagrams and equations. It's fine, he knows he can write what he needs in that space.

"Okay, look." Peter begins drawing a diagram of the neural interface's circuitry. "See how the voltage is really high?"

"Yeah- but isn't that what Doc wanted?" You grimace. "Last time I brought up the voltage issue, he told me to mind my business and continue with soldering. He wants so much power for some reason."

"Right, that's what I'm talking about. Notice how Otto keeps having those outbursts?" Peter sighs, a deeply upsetting look overtaking him. "He's getting a bit aggressive as of late, and I think it's because he can't figure this out."

"You're telling me. Just yesterday he chewed me out for clocking in a bit late." You sniff. "Okay, I was fifteen minutes late, but still."

"I've been there, you don't even have to justify it." Peter laughs, and begins drawing squiggly lines. You can't help but notice how his strangely muscular arms are tense and visible through his lab coat as he scrawls, and you take a sip of your coffee, savoring the view. Looking isn't illegal, you try to rationalize, but you quickly banish these thoughts as Peter looks back with a sly glance, to make sure you're paying attention.

"This is the electricity flow... and it should be heading this way, but the neural interface is made incorrectly and the flow of energy is heading back this way... towards the-"

"The battery of the arms, not the interface." You suddenly realize, and take a scrap piece of paper off the desk, scribbling down notes. "Hmm... maybe the wiring used for the arms is absorbing too much energy? Or the batteries are too big?"

"Maybe, but neural interfaces are tricky business." Peter winces as Otto yells at something in the background of the lab. "I told Otto not to get too involved with it- it's far too easy to accidentally mess with your brain, and then suddenly you've got anger issues or worse-"

"Dementia." You finish his sentence with an equally grim expression. "Okay. I hear you, but how are we supposed to fix it, exactly? I can only think of using different, smaller wires, or a less cost heavy battery- but then it won't move at the speed Otto wants it to."

"Yeah." Peter's shoulders slump a little, and you feel bad. He's always just one dude trying to take on the entire world's problems.

"Peter, it's not your problem, really. You can only do so much- the man has made up his mind, he's going to have to take the brunt of the problem." You try to console him, but Peter has that determined Parker Pride you've seen far too often, and you know he's not going to let it go.

"Wait, wait. Okay..." Peter starts frantically drawing on the board, and seeing that he's running out of space, without missing a beat, begins to draw on the wall.

"Peter! You're drawing on the wall!" You admonish him, and to your shock and utter horror, but not to your surprise, he keeps going. "Now you've completely lost it- it'll take two seconds to erase the board-"

But Peter isn't listening, in that overly stubborn, inventor way that you know you've done before. He's too lost in his own thoughts, and you know that spark will disappear if he takes a moment to stop drawing.

"I'll clean it. It's fine. We got to get a move on." Peter points to the new diagram on the wall. "Look at this."

Peter's drawn a rudimentary depiction of the robotic arm prototypes you've built for Otto, but the battery pack has been split up into several, smaller batteries that extend over the course of the arms. Something about the way the arms move in Peter's drawings look a lot more... smooth, silky, like a cephalopod.

An octopus.

But you are amazed at Peter's capabilities, either way. "Using multiple different batteries, so the energy isn't drawn away from the neural interface in a great capacity?" You blink, a bit amused at Peter's eager expression. "It would work, I think, but only if Otto is willing for a slight decrease in power."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong. We don't need to sacrifice power at all." Peter draws a set of gears, interlocking through the squiddy looking arm, and you clap your hands, clambering up out of your seat, finally enthused by his idea.

"Peter Parker, you genius!" You shake his arm excitedly, and he turns a bit pinker as he watches you, grinning. "Otto wanted the arm to be almost entirely synthetic material- but if it has rotating gears, the less it will jerk around. It'll be faster, smoother-"

"Thus requiring less power anyways, and less power will be redirected into his neural interface. And, hypothetically, no more angry Otto." Peter grins, and you smile up at him. "I mean, it'll still take some tinkering to figure out, but incremental improvements are still improvements, right?"

"Definitely. Plus we can always try to convince him about solar power again." You joke as Peter snickers.

Peter opens his mouth, about to say something to you, but he stares for a moment too long and hesitates, especially because in the nerdy excitement, he had gotten so close to you, and he was a liar if he said he had never checked out his cute co-worker. Any second now, you should be teasing as you usually do- but your eyes are wide and Peter gets the sense you've been swept up in this too.

He's never been so... close. He can make out individual eyelashes, tiny scars, imperceptible to normal people, but not to him.

And his phone buzzes with some kind of alert. He looks it over with bright, concerned eyes, while you take a moment to step back, much to Peter's mild irritation.

"Ah... must be MJ?" You ask, trying so very hard not to sound like a jealous girlfriend, just a curious colleague. You have nothing against MJ- you just feel that she and Peter are so meant for each other, and this is exactly why you've been trying to protect yourself.

Who are you kidding? You and Peter are both so busy- you'd never have time to be his doting, adoring girlfriend. You just have to remember him as a friend.

Already you feel the walls coming into place, your expression turning neutral, your heart becoming steely, when Peter looks at you again, surprised.

He can tell you're holding yourself back- and he doesn't like that. He wants you to come back to him, to be close with him again, and it drives him nuts that it has to be your choice, but he respects that.

"Not MJ. We broke up a while ago." Peter swallows, hoping he's saying the right things. "Uh... I don't think we're going to get back together. She's dating someone else now."

"Oh." You squeeze Peter's shoulder as comfortingly as you can. "Peter, I'm sorry. I would've been less of an ass if I'd known."

"No, don't be." Peter fixes a firm, kindhearted glance at you, taking your hands, the warmth of his own making you feel especially treasured. "You're great."

There's a teeny bit of hope working it's way into you, into your silly, girly heart despite all the steel around it, and Peter has a soft smile reserved just for you- you know that smile, you've seen it before when he comforts you when an experiment goes poorly, or when you've had a Eureka moment.

He rubs your hands. "Jeez, you're cold! I know women are usually freezing in the workplace- different body temperatures on average and all that- but I'm going to have to talk to Otto about making it warmer in here."

"Lest I die of hypothermia, right." You snort, and Peter snickers, but he still stays close, as if he's using this as an excuse. "Well, at least I have your hands."

Peter's phone buzzes again, another alert, which he apologetically takes a moment to read after letting go of you. Something about Fisk's thugs making their way through Grand Central Station- he shouldn't leave right now, but he can see your curiosity is piqued.

"Just a news alert. Nothing big." Peter lies, and you don't quite buy it, but you don't want to pry at this moment after he's complimented you and been so nice to warm up your hands.

Otto bursts through the entrance of the room, sighing.

"Will you two lovebirds stop canoodling with each other and test out the circuitry? You know, like I'm paying you to do so with very limited funds?" He barks, and then inhales. "Sorry. Just... try to stay on task. And I know you're young and all... but stop drawing on the walls!"

He leaves, grumbling about youth being too romantic and wishing they would understand sensibility.

You're about to refute whatever Otto said, so Peter doesn't feel uncomfortable, when he speaks first.

"I take it he isn't a romantic." Peter jokes as he grabs some paper towels, and you laugh, feeling that Peter's flirting was more genuine than you thought.

[skyforlays]

Hot for a Teacher

Sub Ðilf Toji X Dom Black Coded Tall curvy Teacher Reader

Cw: Handjob, ,whimpering,Toji being a filthy slut, titty sucking a tad of feminization if u squint 😋

(My breedable bbg anyways)

wc:1,088

18 + MINORS DNI!!

Toji was a needy man. He was a single dad raising a child, and for Pete's sake, he needed something like a woman. He couldn't recall the last time he was put in his place, wanting to be on the receiving end for so long. After his ex-wife left him with a child, this is all he had: Megumi and work. He was a pretty boring man, he'll admit that, but to his surprise, he received a call from his son's teacher.

Mr Fushiguro I’d like you to come in for a parent-teacher conference to speak with you, you said in a calm tone.

"Yes, of course, I'll be right there. Toji gets in his car and begins to drive to the school. He enters the school as he ponders why his son's teacher is asking to meet. He walks to the front desk. "Hi, I'm Toji Fushiguro. I'm looking for my son's teacher.

"What's your son's name, sir?"

Megumi Fushiguro Oh, alright, follow me, sir. Toji followed the lady to your classroom, and he couldn't believe what his eyes laid upon. Tall, around 5'9 in height, curvy in all the right places, he felt as though he could stare at you for hours.

"You must be Megumi's dad. You go and extend your hands to shake it. Mr. Fushiguro, you ask politely, Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I apologize, he says in a nervous tone as he awkwardly shakes your hand.

“Um, can I ask why you wanted to see me?".

"Well, sir, I just wanted to congratulate you. congratulate me why?

"Your son is highly advanced. He is only in second grade, but it seems like he doesn't even need it; he's very intelligent."

"Oh, thank you. I just try my best to read to him and practice his skills. He says to her, Is that all you called me here for?"

"Yes, sir, I just wanted to give you a heads up on how your child was doing. I thought you would be interested in the process of your son skipping a grade. He is very advanced beyond this class, and I want all my students to be challenged."

"Will you still be his teacher?"

"Yes, Mr. Fushiguro. I would still be your son's teacher. Alright, then I am perfectly okay with my son skipping a grade. When would this take effect?"

"Immediately, he would be in a new third grade around next week once I informed my principal and made sure he was all caught up with the new changes."

Alright, thank you for meeting me here today. You must be extremely proud of your son.

"Yes, yes, I am.".

I hate for you to leave empty-handed, you say as you look at him cunnigly. Would you like to stay for a cup of coffee? I understand if you're too busy or if you probably have a wife at home. You say you're hoping to find out if he's single or not.

No, no wife, just me and Megumi; she left me.

Oh, I'm sorry if that was personal. 

No, no, it's okay. I don't mind at all.

Are you married by any chance to any wife or husband at home?

No, I am single and nothing with nobody for a long time.

Ah, perfect—not perfect. It's just good to work on yourself and weed out what you like and don't like.

I would love to stay for a cup of coffee, if you don't mind. Plus, Megumis is at home with the babysitter anyway, so he's alright.

perfect. The evening felt magical. You and Toji talked for what felt like hours, talking about your favorite movies and shows. It felt like you, too, were really connecting.

After laughing at the millionth joke, tonight you decide you should wrap this up.

It was lovely talking with you, Mr. Fushiguro. 

Toji, please call me Toji. 

It was lovely talking with you, Toji, but we should go.

agreed.

You both felt the sexual tension as you both didn't want to say goodbye and end the night just yet. 

I know we just met, but I know you can feel that spark between us. He says getting closer to you would be so wrong if I wanted to kiss you right here and right now.

You bit your lip in anticipation, no, because I'm feeling it too.

You passionately kiss him as Toji lowly moans in your mouth. As the kissing gets more aggressive, you push Toji down on your desk and start kissing his neck. 

His back starts to arch as he moans lowly as you lick and suck his milky neck, leaving red marks all over him. 

"Please mistress more, he says, so out of it, after being touched for the first time in two years, Toji was enjoying his time being pampered.”

"What do you want Mistress to do, baby? you whisper as you nibble his ear.”

“anything he says, whimpering” 

You immediately unbuckle his pants as you start to slowly stroke his cock.

“You’re  so big, baby, you whisper in his ear.’’

You continue your slow strokes as Toji begins to suck on your tits in pleasure. You lowly moan, trying not to make too much noise.

You pick up the pace as you squeeze Tojis big tits as he sucks on yours. 

“m-mistress, please, I want to cum. Please let me cum.”

“You want to cum You want to be a good girl and cum for your mistress?”

“Yes, mistress, I want to be a good girl for you. Please let me come, he says as his voice begins to crack and slow whimpers begin to escape his gorgeous mouth”.

Then do it cum for me cum for mistress.

He cums in a silent scream as he tries to regain his breath after one of the best orgasms he ever had.

You kiss him lovingly as Toji wraps his hands around your neck, wanting to pull you in closer. 

That was one of the best orgasms I ever had.

Well, baby, you better get used to a lot of orgasms like that because you belong to me now, you whisper in his ear.

You take his phone and put in your number. Get home safe, Mr.Fushiguro. You say you are fixing yourself as you leave your classroom.

Toji gets a message from his phone. 

unknown:Clean my desk for me, baby, you made quite a mess.

Toji looks at the mess he made. Fuck, he's never letting you go now.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

the alchemy (j.c.m.)

a/n: wow, i really am sticking to my unintentional every two month fic posting... anyways, this all occurred because of @cottagecori tempting me with the thought of getting a customized jersey for Javy. this is part of my unpublished midnight rain series (will i ever get the balls to post that sucker? not a clue). enjoy!

summary: Super Bowl Sunday in Javy's jersey and a little more.

inspired by taylor swift's the alchemy

warnings: fluff, i'm yearning okay, proposals, swearing, unedited

word count: 1.5k

“this happens once every few lifetimes/these chemicals hit me like a white wine”

“Has Javy ever gotten to wear that jersey?” 

Your eyes narrow at Jake as you mix the dip. “Does it matter?” 

Jake snorts. “Well, you did buy that for Coyote for Christmas, like, over a year ago now. And I think I’ve seen him wear it like, at one game since then. And that was only because you were out of town.” 

You shrug. “Maybe it’s a good luck charm.” 

Jake chuckles, standing up. “Keep telling yourself that.” 

You huff as Jake opens the fridge. “I don’t remember it being your business.” 

“It has his last name on the back!” Jake exclaims, turning you to show the jersey off to his friends. Your cheeks turn a dusty pink as you catch his eyes from across the kitchen island. 

Truth be told, he hadn’t gotten to wear the customized Saints jersey to a single game or watch party since you’d gotten it for him the Christmas before last. And he couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed because the sight of you proudly outing his last name on your back every time you watched a Saints game together was worth a thousand jerseys. 

“...you don’t even like football.” He blinks, realizing the conversation has moved on. 

You shrug again and he can tell you’re sheepish from across the room. “We compromised.” 

“How is watching every game and only being allowed on your phone during commercial breaks a compromise?” Payback says incredulously. 

You smirk. “He has to buy me In’N’Out after every game. And to me, it’s more than worth it.” 

-

You yawn, tucking your head into his shoulder. His thumb rubs soft circles into your ankle as he listens to the post-game interviews. 

The elation of his team winning the Superbowl, for the first time since 2010 you had reminded him, would carry him through the next four weeks, easy. The knowledge that you had been there with him, cheering just as loud as he had would carry him for even longer. 

“Still wanna get food?” He asks, nudging your cheek with his nose. You yawn, shrugging. 

“Rain check for tomorrow? It’s late.” 

He nods, before taking a look around the house. Cleaning their place post-parties was always awful, but this had to be the worst yet. “Shit, I should really get this place cleaned up.” 

You groan, pulling yourself up off the couch. “Don’t worry, I can do it. ‘Sides, you should be out with your friends.” 

Fanboy had mysteriously disappeared with a girl (friend of a friend of a friend of Omaha’s) sometime during the third quarter and had yet to resurface. 

Bob had gone with Rooster and Hangman out for a drink and a few of his friends from high school who'd been in town for the game had gone with them. He probably should’ve joined them for a celebratory beer (or three) but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to leave your side. 

He just wanted to celebrate with you. 

“It’s not your house.” He finally lamely coughs up and you roll your eyes as you collect empty Solo cups from the living room. 

“I really don’t mind.” You say, leaning over the coffee table, giving him a glimpse of the back of the jersey. 

He hates to say he has a possessive streak in him, he really does. He hates it because he thinks of the guys he’s met in the service who say they’re possessive, who control their girl, who think of their spouse as their property. 

But watching you walk around his house, cleaning up after him and his friends, he knows it’s true. He is possessive of you, something he can’t help. Not in the weird, controlling way, but the knowledge that you are his, his partner, the one you come home to every night. The sight of you walking around in his jersey with his name on the back, seeing you so proudly wear his last name and own it, well… it does something to him. 

“Stop staring.” 

He blinks, eyes coming into focus. You’re not looking at him, eyes focused on the empty cans of beers you’re pouring out into the sink. But he can hear the smirk in your words as his eyes follow your every move through the kitchen. 

“I’m not staring.” He claims, knowing full well he is. 

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England.” You snort, tossing the cans into the recycling under the sink. 

“You could be; don’t ever limit yourself.” You toss him a glare over your shoulder as you pull a bunch of chip clips out of the drawer. He pushes himself up on the couch. “You don’t have to clean up, seriously.” You shrug as you pull your hair away from your face, giving him a better view of the jersey as you turn away from him. 

“It’s fine, I really…” 

Your voice fades as he fixates on the name on the back. His name. 

Machado

God, does he want to make you Machado.

He bites his lip, thinking of the ring tucked away in his closet. The ring he had designed specially for you, after he always swore he’d never let himself get this close to someone again. 

He wants you to be a Machado more than he’s probably wanted anything else in this world. He just hopes you want the same. 

-

He thinks of little else for the next few months. 

The burning desire, deep in his chest, to get down on one knee and propose to you only grows, especially after the two of you put your down payment on your dream house together in early June. 

You both spend the tail end of summer and into the fall building your home together, out here by the beach you’ve always wanted to live close to. 

It’s all so domestic it would rot some pilots' teeth. 

You go to Home Depot after work to pick out paint samples and visit furniture stores he can’t pronounce the names of to look at couches on weekends. You go to Best Buy and pick out a TV and there’s always a vase of fresh flowers from Trader Joe’s on the dining room table every Sunday. He makes you dinner most nights as you sit with a glass of whatever seltzer you were trying that week and trade stories about the workday. You go grocery shopping together every Sunday afternoon and even have a Costco membership together. And the whole time he’s thinking about how badly he wants to make you his wife. 

It almost becomes too much to bear, the question nearly slipping from his lips one lazy morning in bed. The two of you were so close to being done with the house and he simply couldn’t bear it a second longer. 

He barely manages to stop in time, diverting to ask if you’d make pancakes this morning. You raise your eyebrows but give no other acknowledgement that he might’ve said anything else. He’d had a plan to do this right and you deserved better than being asked while half-awake. 

By the time the two of you start the two-block walk to the beach near your home, he’s practically bursting. 

Nerves and eagerness thrum through him as he takes your hand. You either don’t notice or don’t comment on the way he’s gripping your hand just a little too tightly, thinking of the little box tucked away in the picnic basket the two of you were taking with you. 

To catch the sunset he’d said, when he’d asked if you want to picnic on the beach for dinner tonight. You’d been more than willing, as he expected, and you were none the wiser. 

It was perfect.

The sun is setting in the distance, the sky becoming a golden pink, as your feet dig into the sand. He intertwines your fingers, squeezing your hand as he does. You look over at him as he takes a deep breath. 

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart.” 

You smile at him. “So do you.” 

His smile only grows at your words, the surety in what he’s about to do growing. 

Christ, he can’t believe he almost wasted this moment right here. And yet, any sort of soft speech he’d prepared beforehand gets wiped from his brain as looks at you, taking in the way the sun makes you glow golden. 

Breathless, he whispers, “Will you marry me?” 

Your eyes grow wide as you lean in towards him. “Are you- are you serious?” 

He nods, a giddy joy alighting his chest. “Yes, yes, God I am so serious. Baby, I- I want to marry you more than anything in this whole world. I want to make you a Machado.” He picks up the box tucked under his leg, sliding the ring out. He poises it just so at the tip of your ring finger. “Will you do me the greatest pleasure in the world by being Mrs. Machado?” 

Your eyes grow glassy but you nod, shock still written in your features. “I- I would love nothing more. Yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you.” 

The ring slides over your finger with ease and it’s barely on before you’re pulling him into a kiss. His hands cups the back of your neck as he sighs into, feeling his heartbeat finally steady. You were going to be his, forevermore.

[kotemf]

Something is going on in the senator's office

Or, my story for day one of Corrie week. There is something weird going on in senator Chuchi's office. Fox isn't paid enough for this.

  Day 1, prompt: eldritch

  Fox's shift was just about to end. Sure, he still had an endless pile of paperwork in his office but at least there he could sit. His legs hurt from the day of standing guard in the senate and patrolling around Coruscant for the whole day. On Coruscant, every day was leg day.

  Then someone screamed. So much for grabbing a cup of caff and finally sitting down in his office.

  Fox sprinted in the direction of the sound. As much as he didn't care if one of the greedy politicians he was supposed to babysit happened to die, the paperwork wasn't worth it.

  He turned the corner and almost crashed into a distressed senator. He froze. She screamed. Fox took a closer look. Oh, it was the senator from Pantora. That changed just about everything. That changed just about everything. Senator Chuchi was one of the few exceptions in the senate, one of the politicians who cared about clones or at least didn't try to make their life harder. She never as much as raised her voice at a clone and yes, Fox did keep tabs on senators. And right now the nice senator was screaming in distress. Fox should probably find out what was going on.

  "Senator?"

  "Commander! I'm sorry, you scared me."

  So Fox wasn't really used to senators apologizing to him. The first thing he learned his shinies was that whatever happened, it was their fault. Never the nat-born's. He decided he should probably apologize for scaring the senator? "I apologize for scaring you, senator. Is something going on here?"

  "I- I was convinced I saw someone in my office and then I had this feeling someone was following me." The senator shuddered. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you have better things to do."

  "Not really." Fox's paperwork wasn't appealing at all. "Do you want me to check it out?"

  "No, no. It's probably just nerves. I won't take any more of your time, commander."

  Fox snapped a salute. "Have a nice evening, senator."

  "Thank you, you too." The senator smiled at him before she walked off. Fox happily forgot about the whole incident.

  It was two days later when Fox was reading through some reports that he remembered the events of that night. He normally wouldn't pay any attention to a report like this but there was senator's Chuchi's name and... Fox couldn't really explain it but for some reason, he really wanted to know what was going on with senator Chuchi.

  She asked a shiny to check if someone was in her office. The report said she looked scared.

  Fox remembered what exactly she told him when he ran into her. I was convinced I saw someone in my office and then I had this feeling someone was following me. Then she brushed it off. It's probably just nerves. This would be the second time senator Chuchi had a feeling someone was in her office, that was, according to the report, empty.

  That was a bit suspicious. But maybe the senator was just easily frightened and saw a shadow or something. There used to be a vod like that on Kamino. He got decommissioned for that exact reason. But this was a nat-born and a senator. Where nat-borns were just 'being sentient, not droids', clones were defective. But then again, this world didn't view them as sentient. Droids actually had more rights than clones.

  The third time senator Chuchi had a problem, Fox was enjoying his third cup of coffee. It was early into the morning, just about an hour into his first shift, when he ran into Thire.

  "Hey, Fox, do you know what's going on with the senator?"

  "You're going to have to be a bit more specific, Thire."

  "That senator..." Typical Thire, he never remembered names. "The nice one. She's small and blue?"

  "Senator Chuchi?"

  "Probably?"

  "What about her?" Fox asked. If she saw something in her office again, then there was definitely a problem, either with the senator, not that Fox could tell anyone that without getting sent straight to Kamino, or with security. At least senator Chuchi wasn't rude to Fox or his men when they were doing their duty. It made senator sitting a bit more enjoyable.

  "She asked me to go to her office with her to make sure no one is there."

  "Was anyone there?"

  "No. That's the thing. And she actually looked scared when she opened the door. What is she so afraid of?"

  "How am I supposed to know?"

  "You know everything!"

  Now that was a lie. Fox didn't know everything. If he knew everything, he wouldn't have to work. He wouldn't have to obsessively check reports and security footage to prevent anything bad from happening. He wouldn't have to be keeping tabs on senators to see who was bearable and who he had to keep shinies far away from. He wouldn't have to take every single guard duty in the chancellor's office because there was just something about Sheev Palpatine that felt off. He wouldn't have to check the causualities reports from the entire GAR just to make sure his batchmates didn't die somewhere on a battlefield. So no, Fox definitely didn't know everything. Among other things, he didn't know what was going on with senator Chuchi. "I most certainly don't know everything."

  "I asked the senator if there was someone who might cause her trouble. She said there wasn't anyone but... if she doesn't have a reason to be scared then why is she scared?"

  "It's none of your business." Fox shrugged. If there was danger a senator didn't told the Guard about then the Guard had no way of preparing for said danger.

  "Technically, it is. Our job is to protect the senators. And this is one of the nice ones."

  "I will tell everyone to pay her extra attention when patrolling," Fox promised. Thire wasn't the only one worried, Fox was just better at convincing himself there were no senators he actually cared about.

  It was the next day, when Fox was helping himself to his eighteenth cup of caff, that there was a knock on the door of his office. He sighed. Vode didn't knock, this had to be a senator. He so didn't want to deal with whichever greedy politician was standing behind his door.

  He was surprised when he opened and saw senator Chuchi. She wasn't one of his usual visitors. Senators only went to Fox when they wanted to complain, always the same annoying little shits again and again. Fox collected their pictures. He liked to throw darts at said pictures when he was having a particularly bad day. If caff couldn't fix it, throwing darts into Mas Amedda's face was always a good way to go.

  "Commander."

  Fox only now noticed that the senator was shaking a bit. It wasn't cold and as far as he knew, Pantorans had a pretty good thermal regulation so it shouldn't be from that. Did something scare her again? Scare her so much she was shaking? Fox should probably ask. "Are you alright, senator?"

  "Yes. Yes, I am alright. I just... could you please accompany me to my office?"

  "Of course, senator."

  "Thank you. It's silly but I- The lights in my office went out for no reason at all and I just- I've been hearing stuff, seeing shadows, I always feel like someone is there... There is no one, I know but I- I don't want to go there alone," she admitted.

  "I'll make sure it's safe, senator," Fox promised. That was his job, after all. And he would really hate it if something happened to the one senator who treated the Guard with respect because he underestimated a threat.

  "Thank you, commander."

  They walked together to the senator's office. The senator insisted that Fox goes in first. Fox didn't blame her, he remembered how him and his batchmates used to push each other forward whenever their trainers asked for someone to do a new exercise first. No one wanted to march into the unknown. Someone always had to do it. This time, Fox wasn't scared. But the senator was.

  Fox quickly opened the door and went for the light switch. The tight didn't turn on. "The light is probably broken. I can see if I can get it fixed," he offered.

  "That would be very nice of you." The senator smiled at him. Something about that smile made Fox glad that he offered his services instead of just calling someone more qualified to look at it. He might still have to do that but for now, he could be the knight in shining armor.

  He lit up the light in his helmet to somewhat light the room. He has never been in senator Chuchi's office. It wasn't like the offices of other senators at all. The room was fairly simple, for a senator, anyway. Fox had to borrow a chair to climb up to where the light was.

  Before he could do that, the lights turned back on.

  Then off.

  Then on again.

  There there was a noise of rustling fabric behind Fox, where there most certainly wasn't supposed to be anyone.

  When Fox turned around, there was no one. The window wasn't open so it wasn't the wind either.

  Everything went black again.

  "Okay, that was weird."

   "Weird?! What do you mean it was weird?! It was terrifying!" The senator started shouting. She didn't sound mad, just scared.

  "You're right, senator, I-" Fox didn't finish his sentence. He bolted forward when he saw the senator's knees buckle and reached her just in time to stop her from falling to the ground. She was unconscious.

  Fox tried calling the medics. His comm wasn't working.

  He could work with that, only the door refused to open.

  They were trapped in senator's Chuchi's office and the senator was unconscious for reasons unknown to Fox. Just great. Fox should've drunk his caff before agreeing to accompany the senator.

  "Senator? Senator Chuchi?" Fox tried waking the senator up. At first, there was no reaction but after a while, the senator stirred.

  "Commander?" She blinked.

  "Senator. Are you alright?"

  "Yes, I'm- I'm fine. I fainted, didn't I?"

  "You did," Fox confirmed. He realized he was still holding the senator. He quickly let her go. It wouldn't be appropriate to touch her any more than was necessary.

  "Oh my god, I'm sorry. My blood pressure drops a lot when I'm scared or stressed and sometimes I just faint," the senator explained. Not that she had to explain herself to Fox. In fact, Fox had no idea what he was supposed to say.

  "I'm glad to hear you are alright, senator," he said in the end. "Unfortunately, it appears we're trapped here-"

  "Trapped?!"

  "The door isn't opening and my comm doesn't seem to be working. Don't stress yourself, senator. I'm sure someone will come get us soon."

  "Do you know why the lights did what they did?"

  "Not really," Fox admitted.

  The senator took a moment to process what he just said before she went and started frantically trying to open the door. She wasn't successful. The same went for her attempt at calling her aides. They were trapped in an office without light.

  As if that wasn't enough, the lights lit up for a moment without turning back off.

  "As soon as we get out of here, I'll ask for a new office," the senator decided. Fox thought that was a good idea considering how... broken the office was.

  He didn't get to answer it. There was a tapping sound in the room suddenly. And it wasn't Fox, or the senator. Fox hated his job. Getting trapped with a senator would be bad enough but mysteries were a bit too much. Fox only had seventeen cups of caff that day. That wasn't nearly enough to deal with all that shit.

  "What was that?"

  "I don't know. I'm going to check it out." Fox got up. Where did the noise come from? Somewhere around senator Chuchi's table if he heard correctly.

  He pointed his helmet's light in the right direction before he went investigating. Maybe there was a vent? He looked around the table, then under the table. He moved the small carpet there. Wait a damn moment...

  "Senator? Is there supposed to be a pentacle under your table?"

  "What? There is a pentacle?"

  "Yes, ma'am." Fox nodded in affirmation.

  "That is certainly not supposed to be there."

  "That's what I thought." Fox reached out with his glowed hand. The lights went crazy and there was some sort of noise that Fox wasn't able to name. He ran his hand over the picture. It smudged.

  The noise stopped. The lights turned on and stilled. Fox's comm suddenly lit up perfectly fine. So did senator Chuchi's. Fox went to the door and carefully pushed. It opened without a problem.

  "What did just happen?"

  "I don't know, senator."

[kyehwas]

come back to me ft. kim namjoon

-> or, you fall in love with an idol you swore you hated

|| wc + warnings || 1.3k / gn!reader, basic celebrity falls for a non-fan trope, alcohol, BAD miscommunication (sorry), i started writing this in september & finished it in may..

You remember the things you heard about BTS, your friends always talking about their songs or members. To be frank, you always found them overrated.

So when you moved to Korea, you couldn't escape the hype of the boy group. You were texting your friends while walking, describing your life in Korea to them. That was your first mistake. Your second mistake was holding a cup of untouched coffee in your other hand. Your third mistake was accidentally bumping into someone, spilling coffee over their designer shirt.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention, that shirt must've cost a lot, right? I feel so bad," You apologized frantically, hoping the stranger wouldn't yell at you.

"Don't worry about it, I could get a new one," The man said, taking the napkin you handed him to wipe down part of his shirt.

"No, please, let me give you my number, then you could make me repay you whenever you need me to?"

The man looked at you for a second before handing you his contacts. You typed your contact and your name. "So, y/n? I'm Namjoon. Nice to meet you."

"Namjoon," You now had a name to the face, which you had to admit was pretty attractive even if it was covered by a mask, "Yup, nice to meet you? Don't know if this counts considering how weird it was, but yeah..?" You shrugged, forcing a grin that made Namjoon smile back.

"Are you busy? Maybe I could get to know you?" Namjoon offered. You probably shouldn't be going with random men you accidentally bump into, but you trust Namjoon.

"Oh!! I- Do I have some time? Yeah, I do!" You're acting so awkward around him, you think to yourself. "Where to?"

Your meeting with Namjoon had gone smoother than you'd expected. Even past all of the awkward small talk. When you went to tell your friends, they all had the same reaction:

"NAMJOON LIKE THE BTS LEADER? LIKE KIM NAMJOON?"

You were about to rip your hair out. Did everything have to be about BTS to them? "Nope, I'm sure he's a regular shmegular Namjoon! Just because someone shares a name with the celebrity doesn't mean they are the celebrity!"

"...So yeah! That's practically what happened! Pretty stupid, right?" You recount to Namjoon during your next meeting with him. You two were hanging out in the same coffee shop you had bumped into him in."Y/n..."

"Yes?"

"What if your friends were right?"

If you hadn't swallowed a second earlier, you would've spewed coffee all over the poor man and soiled his clothes for the second time. "REALLY?"

"Yeah but I don't want anyone else noticing," Namjoon put a finger to his lips, "I'm wearing a mask for a reason."

"So am I special?" You joke. You're still awestruck over the fact that you're hanging out with the leader of the very group you hated.

"You could certainly say that."

You avert your eyes from his and take another sip from your coffee. Why was this getting so weird?

“You come here often..?”

“I guess. It's one of my favorite coffee places. You?”

“Yeah. It's a great place… Fuck, this is awkward,” You finally admit to him, “I feel bad for telling you I don’t like BTS, I've only heard the popular songs.”

“You should listen to some of our other songs. Oh! And the solos, not to brag, but I think my solos are pretty good.” You nod along to his rambling about his music, kind of intrigued. “Do you want to head out of here?”

“Oh, of course! We could go to my place if you want?” You propose, and to your surprise, Namjoon agrees.

So there you are, a world famous popstar in your crusty apartment. You go to your fridge and gave him a beer can you had since it was the sole good drink you had other than chocolate milk and water.

“I'm kind of broke, sorry.” You tell him, opening your can. The fizzy sounds bring a certain calmness that you need for this scenario.

“You apologize a lot, don't be sorry.” Namjoon comments, also cracking open the can. “Sit down.”

“I'm sat.” You reply. All your worries went away as you continue to talk to Namjoon. He's sweet, and you learned a lot of things about him that you were sure not even his biggest fans knew.

“Well, I should leave, it's getting dark,” Namjoon announces once enough time passed. His hands make their way in his pocket and his eyes dart between your eyes and your lips. He likes you, he thought. He likes some random person that bumped into him and spilled their coffee all over him.

“Yeah, bye.” But as you watch Namjoon leave your apartment, you called out to him, one last time. “Namjoon, wait!”

“Yeah?” He stops at the door frame. You ran up to him and hug him without a second thought in your head.

“Thanks for coming…” You mumble, face buried in his chest, “I'll check out your songs later.”

“Tell me what you think, okay?” Namjoon smiles, and your heart skips a beat. His smile felt different though. Almost as if he was preoccupied by something else.

“Okay, promise!” He exits with that smile still plastered on his face and you're alone in your dingy apartment again. You slept on the couch that night, too tired to go to your room. In the morning, you get bombarded by distressed texts from your friends.

NAMJOON IS IN THE MILITARY

I MISS MY MANNNNNN

Y/N AREN'T YOU FRIENDS WITH RM DID HE TELL YOU?

That explains why he looked like that before he left your apartment. You search his name up on Google, and your friend's texts are confirmed. You wouldn't see Namjoon for the next 18 months.

Why didn't he tell you? You sent him a text, a simple hi. No response. You did the same the next day, and the day after that. Still no response from Namjoon.

Just like that, 18 months had passed. You had managed to gain a stable income from your job, you made a lot more friends while still keeping in touch with the ones in America, and you even adopted a pet cat you named RM.

The sun beamed in your apartment as you were feeding RM, who was basking in the sun's rays. You were interrupted by a knock on your door. You went to answer it, your cat following.

“Hello, how can I he-” Standing at your door was the same Namjoon from 18 months ago. “Namjoon..?”

Namjoon pulls you in for a tight hug, almost like he was trying to make up for the time he was gone. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you anything. I got discharged, and the first thing I had to do was go to you.”

“So why didn't you answer any of my messages? I thought you didn't like me anymore?”

“I've never gone a day without thinking about you. When you texted me, I wanted to respond, but I was too scared of the fact that I hurt you to say anything. Y/n, come back to me.” He mutters, desperate for you.

“Namjoon.” His name was the only thing you could utter, he was the only thing you could think about. “I thought- I thought you hated me.”

“I love you. I always have.”

“Nam-” Before you could even finish your sentence, he kisses you, passionate and yearning.

“You return the feelings, don't you?” The coffee he had before he came over lingers on your lips.

Still shocked by the turn of events, you nod. “Don't ever leave me again.”

“I won't. Ever. You can trust me this time.” 

“You better not. Both me and RM trust you.” You pull him in for a kiss again, longer than the last one.

Now that he was here, RM would never abandon you. He was yours, you were his, and that's the way he liked it.

[snkts]

Hi Logan! It's your new co-worker checking in again, carrying herself with that same annoying air of 'I've been here all along'. She seats herself across from him, but not before turning the chair around to straddle it. "Morning," Tess/Woolf greets. She considers him without blinking. Hell, maybe she's wondering if she's going to lose a body part over this.

"Before I do this, I want you to understand this isn't a sexual harassment thing." Her voice is lackadaisical, which is... about what one would expect at the start of their very complicated work day. "We barely know each other, and I know for a fact you have better things to do than badly put the moves on you."

Tess shifts, reaching up to tug a hand through her tangle of curls. (They frizz as a result.) "Ready? Go."

No, she hasn't blinked yet.

"As a music teacher, do you know what's better than finding roses waiting on your piano? Your two lips on my organ."

She keeps right on going, as if reading off an itinerary. "While we're at it, you remind me of my little toe. The next time I'm drunk, I'll probably bang you on my coffee table."

Hank McCoy passes her a cup of coffee on the fly, which she takes with a murmur of thanks. Is the bouncing blue Beast smirking? Yes. Just a little.

"You've been around for a while, haven't you? Probably had all kinds of codenames. Was one of them Winnie the Pooh? Because you're giving me Hundred-Acre Wood Right now."

There it is--! A blink. She also takes a second to sip her coffee, holding up a finger to indicate she needs 'just a minute'. Aaand swallow. The brunette sets the coffee down on the table with a plink, taking a breath.

"I'm sure you're thinking about taking out my appendix at this point, but you remind me of mine. I don't know what you do or how you work, but I feel that I should take you out."

She keeps going, straight-faced and unruffled.

"Are you a dog person? Because you're sure fetching this morning--"

And on.

HIT ON LOGAN, SEE WHAT HAPPENS || ACCEPTING

Logan had a pen in one hand, a pad of paper in the other, setting about going over his lesson plan for the day. Figuring out which drills to put the students through. What exercises he wanted to try. He had a few ideas, and-

What?

He looks up as he hears footsteps approach and doesn't hide his grimace. Oh, great. Her.

"Piss off." Is all he gives in response to her greeting, and her 'clarification' does nothing to brighten his mood. "The fuck're you-" And then she starts. The first one, he's just stunned. He blinks and tries to process what the fuck is going on. Between the second and third, the situation has caught up to him and he growls. Fangs bared, shoulders back, growls. By the third, he's tossed his pen and notepad away, temporarily forgotten.

By the time she's halfway through the fifth, he unsheathes his claws and stabs them into the table with such force the wood buckles.

"Here's what's gonna happen." He snarls, leaning his weight onto the table. "You're gonna find a nice place to play Hide and Go Fuck Yourself, and I'm gonna maybe reconsider stabbing you in the face."

"Get. Lost."

[fussyspace]

Word count: ~65,600

Cover: This seems to have gone through a few different covers, so I'll comment on the one we were sent, which appears to be the latest. It definitely gets across everything it needs to: the noir detective vibe, the fact there are humanoid aliens, and the fact at least one bloke gets abducted. It gives the impression the detective and the alien are working together, too, which tracks. And it looks good. A solid cover.

Blurb: 'Brent Bolster doesn't give a damn.

'Overlords, invaders, the Earth Upgrade Committee: they can all go to hell.

'But abduct him? He'd like to see them try.

'Like any good PI, Brent has a snub-nosed pulse pistol hidden under his pillow. But he's just met his worst nightmare, an alien with an attitude that just won’t quit, and things are about to get...complicated.

'Join Brent as he tackles Earth’s new overlords and uncovers a deadly plan.

'With the help of a mysterious dame, an assistant with serious muscle, a neurotic scientist, and a fish called Algernon, he might make it through.It's a tough job, but Brent can handle it. Just as soon as he's had his third cup of coffee……and found that damned pulse pistol.

'You’ll get a kick out of this comedy because all scifi fans love a tongue-in-cheek reference.

'Dial G for Gravity takes the world of an old-fashioned gumshoe and propels it into the future. But like all good scifi, it has something to say about where we’re headed and the way we live now.

'So grab a pot of joe, fill your favorite Star Fleet mug, and start reading.'

Whew. Bit of a long blurb. Much like the cover, it gets that detective vibe across pretty well, and it imparts a dash of the humour that will follow it the book. I might have left it a bit long between reading and writing my notes up into a review, but I can't remember it having much to say about where we're headed and the way we live now, so I feel like that bit may have been a bit redundant. In any case, it's a fun one. Let's dive in.

Vote to continue at 30%: Yes

This book was hard to review without spoilers, so please be aware that there are probably many below – mostly to do with characters rather than the plot.

Content: This was an enjoyable and easy read from the outset, with a decent dash of humour and an interesting if slightly cheesy setting including an obvious but entertaining Spock stand-in. We had a detective getting abducted even though he should have been exempt, an alien getting pranked by his co-workers, and not-android-Spock falling mortally foul of their captain's temper. A lot of these colourful characters got thrown together for much of the book, with plenty of opportunity to bounce off each other. It was a promising setup.

However, with several different plot lines moving along at once, it didn't go as far as I expected by what I thought was the 30% mark (it had a pesky sample of the sequel at the end, which skewed my perception of how long the actual book was), beyond presenting the mystery of why the detective was mistakenly abducted and revealing a ship of aliens heading for Earth. By halfway, the main characters had teamed up and started working through the problem, but I felt a general lack of 'spark' that I struggled to put my finger on. Perhaps it was just the pacing, but I think it may have been the number of PoV characters, each knowing their bit of the story and thus removing some of the suspense. The prose was entertaining enough, but the plot failed to deliver and I found the eventual resolution so sudden that it was disappointing.

While I did have a few chuckles as I read, the humour did often fall back on something that always falls flat for me: characters constantly being rude or just plain mean to each other. (Also references to some TV shows I assumed were either before my time or American, or both.) I'm never quite sure if it's meant to be funny or not, but I just find it makes me retreat from the characters. In this case I don't think Brent is meant to be particularly likeable, but his behaviour got more grating for me as the book went on. I held out some hope of him changing and becoming nicer, but he didn't, and was particularly keen on trying to get with Maisie even after she made it perfectly clear she wasn't interested.

In fact, all the men seemed to make jokes at the expense of the women. This would have been less of a problem if the women were actually strong characters. I expected Maisie to constantly cut through Brent's nonsense, but by the end she was practically simpering at the thought of a man protecting her. I thought Tsumper would be an intelligent investigator, but she didn't reappear and was written off as stupid. I thought Breamell would be sharper than Rawlgeeb gave her credit but, but she was just all over him and did nothing but get captured. Individually, perhaps nothing of note. Together, they paint a frustrating picture. Maybe I'm just being stupid here and it's deliberately embracing a trope of noir stories, but it didn't come across as a result of unreliable or rose-tinted narration, and it didn't sit right.

In the end, while I enjoyed the book's writing style and its quirky setting, the plot and characters left me feeling a bit more ambivalent. It was a quick and reasonably entertaining read, but I wasn't itching to dive into the sequel.

[cinnamontop]

Not sure what to post

I'm not sure what to post. I guess an update of life? Or is that boring? Probably do that anyway. I guess I should update about my fandoms, cosplays, fan fictions, and RPGs. I'll start there.

First, an update on Fandoms. This hurts. I haven't watched The Walking Dead since Negan arrived. I haven't watched Doctor Who since the 12th Doctor. I still into Harry Potter. I have devoured Star Wars lately.

Second, an update on cosplay, fan fictions, and rpg. I haven't cosplayed in two years. I haven't had money to go to cons. I haven't written a fan fiction since 2019. My husband (more about that later) wants me to get back into writing. As for RPGs, well, I'm not sure I have the time for them. If I did, it would be slow, no responding right away like I used to years ago.

As for life, well, since being on here, which seems like a lifetime ago, I have been divorced, dated, and now remarried. This is my third AND FINAL marriage. I finally found "the one." First guy I dated after my divorce was really good. The situation was bad for me. He was polyamorous and I am not. He was married and I wanted more time with him. This did not go over well after a couple of years being together. Now, I feel they were a waste of time. Reasons for this feeling come later. Then, I dated someone that took advantage of me. He stole money from me. Wrecked my house. Wrecked my life. I had to kick him out of my house. I really regret that relationship. More time wasted.

Then, I found the one I was meant to be with for the rest of my life. I had seen him times before, but never knew exactly who he was. Ironic things happened that feel like destiny now. He was the cop I had started to admire on the side of the road as he sat in his cruiser scanning for speeders. I had often thought of getting him a cup of coffee or speeding by him just to have him pull me over. But I never did. My mind told him he's probably happily married with kids. One day, he wasn't there anymore. I prayed nothing had happened to him. Then, later, I saw this guy with this cute little mixed girl playing with their dog in the front yard of a house on my way home. I thought, he looks like a nice guy. My mind told me his wife was probably inside the house making dinner or something and it also told me, perhaps not. I wanted to take a long walk just so I could walk by his house to see him and say hi. But I never did. Finally feeling lonely, depressed, and anxious that I would never find anyone, I met this guy online. He was friendly, polite (no dick pics), and easy to talk to. We met in person. We chatted. I found out he was the police officer that sat on the side of the road. He rented the house where I saw his adopted daughter, dog, and him playing in front.

Can I just say "wow!" He had been there the whole time, but I didn't know it. That's how I know he's the one I was meant to be with until we depart this world.

Okay, so that's what's new with me. I hope to chat with some of you soon!

[fereldanwench]

i'm having just

completely incoherent, sleep-deprived goro brainrot

no real thoughts

just

g o r o

his beautiful face

the t i d d i e s

the voice

the humor (mock me daddy)

skjdfhjsdfhjksdf

i mean what the fuck you feel me

like

how

ksjrfdshfdshfksd

[ddejavvu]

okay okay I'm so obsessed with this idea of grumpy gruff/hotch who's secretly the most romantic bf ever so what about hotch who's sick but powers through it at work until you show up to drop off lunch and suddenly he's the biggest baby ever??

Adore your writing, thank you for being an angel!

The team doesn't even know he's sick until you show up with a care kit. Derek's brow furrows as he spots cold medicine in your hand, flagging you down before you can rush to Aaron's office.

"Hey, Missus Hotchner!" He calls, still a tease even when confused.

"Hm?" You nod in greeting, frozen on the steps.

"What's the cough syrup for," He motions to the bottle, "You and Hotch gonna party?"

"There's sprite in the kitchen," Emily snorts.

"No," You laugh incredulously, "Aaron's sick, I'm here to bring him soup and his medicine."

With that, you're off. You take Derek's confused silence as your opportunity to leave, rushing up the stairs and shutting the door behind you. Even if they can't hear you, they watch as Hotch sets down his pen at the sight of you, and how his shoulders droop with exhaustion.

"Hi, honey." You croon, gripping his cheeks and leaning over his desk to kiss his heated forehead, "Oh, my poor baby. You ready for soup?"

"Yes please," He rasps, and if his voice is a little more pitiful than it was during the BAU's earlier meeting, you'll never know.

"Take some medicine," You hand over the bottle, "10 mL, Aaron. No skimping."

He rolls his eyes, "I only did that once."

"Yeah," You scoff, "Last night! You're not to be trusted anymore."

"There," He pours the recommended dose into the small plastic cup, showcasing his precision, "Is that good enough for you, doctor?"

"Yes," You grin, refusing to acknowledge his snark, "Drink it all, Aaron."

As an adult accustomed to a drink here and there, his face should not screw up the way it does at the taste of the cough syrup. The team sees it through the windows lining Hotch's office, and there's assorted chuckles and gasps when you guide his mouth open again, holding a bottle of water to his lips and tipping it between his lips.

"Look at that," Derek marvels, "She's babying him."

"And he's acting the part," JJ's eyebrows raise when he shuts his eyes, leaning into your palm so that you kiss his forehead once more, "Oh my god, look, she's feeding him!"

Sure enough, you crack open a container of soup and hold the spoon up to Aaron's lips for him. He doesn't even try to do it himself, keeping his eyes droopy as you spoon more and more down his throat.

They only stop looking because you nearly catch them, but it's hard to return to normal like their stoic boss isn't melting in his girlfriend's hands a few feet away.

It's later, after you've left, that they really notice the shift. Aaron's mobile again, putzing around the kitchen to make himself a third cup of coffee for the day. Reid needs a refill, too, and while he's busy stirring in his overzealous portion of sugar, he strikes up conversation with Hotch.

"You're not contagious, are you?"

Hotch side-eyes him from the counter, shaking his head slightly, "No, you'll be fine. It's just a small cold."

"You looked miserable," Reid muses, keeping his eyes on his spoon, "From the way Y/N reacted when she kissed your forehead, I assume you have, or had, a fever, and it'll only get worse if you don't rest. If I were you I'd take the day off, and make sure the fever went down before coming back."

"Thank you for the advice, Reid." Aaron's hand tightens around his coffee mug, and he doesn't seem all that grateful for it despite what he says, "I'll keep that in mind."

He strides back to his office, door shut a bit too harshly for anyone's liking.

"Sore subject," Emily snickers as Reid rejoins the group, "You should have seen the way he flushed red when you mentioned Y/N."

"He's probably texting her now," Derek elbows Reid, pointing to his office where Hotch is bent over his phone, "Whaddya think it says, pretty boy?"

"Oh! Oh, uh," Emily answers instead, steadying her voice for her famed Hotch Impression, "Honeybunches," And the team bursts into giggles, "Reid said I should rest, will you pwease come pick me up?"

"Pwease," JJ snorts, "And- and bring my blankie for the car ride home."

Thirty minutes later, you stride back into the bullpen, and when you usher Aaron out of his office and home for the day, there's a blanket draped over his shoulders.

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part Nine

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Not a lot of talking actually takes place. Mostly Steve and Robin cry at each other while Eddie, and presumably Dustin, take turns holding down the button to talk. They don't even say full words half the time, yet still manage to have an entire conversation. (Eddie thought that was a trick that only worked face to face but apparently the telepathy transcends distances).

Eddie has so many questions but he can wait; he doesn't want to interrupt Steve and Robin. Of all the people who should get Steve's time now that he's back, Eddie's certain he falls at the bottom of that list. He's just as certain Dustin and Robin are tied for top, so it's good that Robin was here, anyway.

Steve does take the time to talk them out of going to the Hendersons' house immediately. Claudia is not in the know and they can't really justify the midnight visit otherwise. Steve's shown up and slept in the guest room on occasion, unannounced, so him being there isn't going to be questioned.

The talk ends with a promise from Steve, to let them know when he was home and they could go over.

Robin falls asleep crying on his chest. Eddie doesn't get much sleep.

Steve's back. He's no longer a doll. A full explanation was promised before the walkie's were put down for the night, but he needs to know what happened. Steve had wanted to talk to him and he's a little bit afraid of that. Steve heard him and Jeff, was made aware of his stupid, gay crush, and now- Steve's going to want nothing to do with him. He's going to let him down gently, but firmly, and probably slowly vanish from Eddie's life.

Morning comes slowly and with it, the realization he's not ready to face Steve. He does need to talk to Jeff as soon as he can, though. He pulls himself from bed and gets coffee going almost as soon as the sky starts to lighten. He nurses one cup for so long it goes cold on him three and he has to reheat it in the microwave. Robin joins him at the kitchen table after the third reheat, plopping the walkie on the table before slumping into a chair. A glance at the clock on the wall shows it's a little after eight.

"Morning," Robin says around a yawn, laying her head down on the table.

"There's coffee, but you'll need to microwave it."

"Bleh," Robin wrinkles her nose at that, "no thanks."

"Any news?"

"Yeah. Dustin woke me up. Steve just left, so should be hearing from him soon."

Eddie nods, then says, "I'll drop you off but I'm not- I won't be going in."

"What? Why?"

He feels himself tighten his grip on his mug but if he can tell this to anyone, it's Robin. "I... Jeff accidentally outed me to Steve, yesterday. It's why I was all-" he pauses, waving a hand in the air like that explains anything before continuing, "-falling apart yesterday. Jeff saw Steve, he was on my bed and just, one thing led to another, and Jeff was joking -he'd never have said anything if he knew Steve could hear him- but it. It was. I-I can't-"

Robin's hand falls on his arm, gives it one squeeze before retracking her arm but it's enough to cut off Eddie's words. "I get it. Do you want me to tell Steve anything for you?"

"Just tell him I'm sorry."

She looks like she wants to ask what he's sorry for, but she doesn't. He's glad for that but how can he even begin to explain all the things he's sorry for?

"I need to talk to Jeff. Come up with something to tell him. I was supposed to go talk to him last night but."

"But," Robin repeats with a nod. "What were you going to tell him?"

He shrugs. "I'm pretty good at thinking on my feet. I'll figure it out when I'm lying to his face."

There is silence after that as Robin plays with the walkie on the table, slight frown to her face. He lets the silence hang for a moment before needing to break it, but Robin speaks at the same time.

"You still awake?"

"You should tell him."

They blink at each other before Robin says, "You should tell Jeff the truth."

"I can't do that, Robin. I signed an NDA."

"Since when would something like that stop you?"

"It's not... he wouldn't believe me."

"Do you make a habit of lying to him?"

"No."

"Then he'll probably believe you. Besides, you don't have to tell him anything about what you did sign an NDA for. Steve turning into a doll isn't Upside Down related. I'll vouch for you, and I'm sure Steve will, too, if that's what it took to get Jeff to believe you."

"We already brought my uncle into the loop. We can't just keep adding people to it."

Robin sighs and sits back. "It's up to you, Eddie. You can make up your lie and it'll be fine. By your own admission he knows you like guys, and that's not something we share lightly. So, Jeff must mean a lot to you. I just don't want you to lose Jeff because of this."

"Jeff and I have a solid friendship. We'll get through this."

"Okay. I just-"

"Robin? Eddie? I'm home," Steve's voice comes through the walkie talkie, startling both of them.

"Be right there," Robin says back as Eddie stands to find his shoes and keys.

-

He drops Robin off at Steve's and pulls away before she's even across the lawn. If he sees Steve, he'll stay, and he can't. Not today.

It's barely 8:30 in the morning so he knows Jeff won't be awake. His mom will, though, and she'll let him in.

"We were expecting you last night," is the greeting he's given when Jeff's mom opens the door enough to see who's knocking this early. Her tone is light, teasing like she usually does, but Eddie's feeling a bit too guilty to joke back.

"I know. But, uh, I was- I'm here to apologize. For not showing."

"He's still asleep," she says even as she's stepping back to let him in.

"Not for long."

"I take no responsibility for any injuries that you may acquire for waking him up this early."

Jeff wakes up with a startled yell when Eddie jumps on him, attempting to use his blanket to trap his limbs in so he can't start swinging (or put Eddie into a headlock until he passes out).

"Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie," Jeff huffs, once his fright has settled and he glares up at Eddie, who is straddling Jeff, pinning the blanket down around him.

"Are you gonna punch me?"

"No."

Eddie signs in relief and flops sideways, off of Jeff and onto the bed. He realizes his mistake a second too late, when Jeff has already shoved him out of the bed with all his strength, so Eddie lands with a loud 'OOF' on the floor. He should have flopped to the other side, between Jeff and the wall.

No. Jeff would have just shoved him into the wall then.

"Why can't you just show up and apologize like a normal person?" Jeff's voice is muffled, like he's shoved his face into his pillow.

"Uhh, because that's what normal people do?"

Jeff just groans, long-suffering, and soon his head peaks over the edge of the bed to look at Eddie. "Apology accepted. So, are we gonna talk about yesterday, or do we both agree it never happened, provided you can keep your creepy Harrington shrines to, like, the back of your closet or deep in the woods, where I never have to see it again."

"I can one thousand percent guarantee you will never see what you saw again."

"Perfect."

They spend a majority of the day together, and Eddie feels himself settle. He and Jeff are good. Will always be good. He doesn't need to justify or explain to Jeff, not on things that don't involve Jeff directly. He's not going to tell Jeff the truth. Not today, or even in the near future. He can't say he won't, ever, finally tell him the truth about the murder accusations and the fallout of that, but Jeff doesn't need to know that to be his friend.

It's a great relief, honestly, to have friends none the wiser to the awful things that lurked in Hawkins. An even greater relief to have friends that know him.

Eddie heads home when it gets closer to dinner time. He's already bummed breakfast and lunch from Jeff and his family, so he tells Jeff they'll hang out later and heads home. He should get there with enough time to share dinner with Wayne.

His uncle is in the process of cooking what smells like seasoned meat of some sort.

"Eddie, come here a second," Wayne says, glancing over his shoulder. Eddie, who had been heading to the couch, instead steps into the kitchen area.

"What's up?"

"Steve is in your room."

Eddie feels a tinge of panic at those words. He does his best to keep his face neutral.

"We had a chat, he and I. He wants to talk to ya, but he's willin' to wait for you to come to him. So, the options are this. You go back to your room and have that chat, or you walk back out that door and hang out back while I let Steve know I'm takin' him home. The second option does come with the stipulation that you don't let dinner burn while I'm gone."

His first instinct is to run, so he does. Almost. He turns away and makes it to the door but when he puts his hand on the doorknob, he finds he doesn't want to turn it. Steve came to him. Wayne spoke to Steve, so if Steve had any intentions of just punching him in the face and leaving, then Steve wouldn't still be here at all. Wayne would have thrown him out.

"How'd he get here?" Eddie finds himself asking without turning around.

"I think he walked."

He can do this. He'll just go down the hall, look at a spot somewhere above Steve's head and tell him he's sorry, and can they please stay friends, and everything will be fine.

He'd followed Steve into Mordor, once. This will be nothing.

Wayne says nothing as Eddie heads down the hall, to where his bedroom door is slightly ajar. He pushes it open slowly, stepping into his own room timidly.

Seeing Steve knocks the wind out of him.

Steve is sitting at the end of his bed, hunched over so his elbows are resting on his knees while his hands hold Eddie's Walkman between his knees. Steve's got the headphones on, but the right side is pushed back on his head behind his ear. Probably so he can hear when Eddie arrives, but he's either lost in his thoughts or the music but he doesn't notice Eddie at first. So, Eddie takes him in. Gone is the outfit he wore as a doll. Instead, Steve is wearing what appears to be homemade Bermuda jean shorts, his Members Only jacket, unzipped, and a shirt under that that looks suspiciously like the Metallica tank top Eddie lost months ago. His hair looks flatter than usual, like he let it air dry after a shower and didn't put any product in it. It's ruffled though, like it always is when Steve spends the day running his hand through it.

"Hi," Eddie says, and watches as Steve jolts, like he's been caught doing something bad.

"Eddie," Steve breathes out. "Hi."

"It's, uhh, good to see you sitting up on your own, no pillow needed," Eddie says, sliding further into his room, clicking the door closed behind him to give an illusion of privacy.

Steve pulls the headphones from his head with his right hand, transferring everything to his left. He doesn't hit pause on the Walkman, though, so the faint sound of music plays but it's not loud enough to really be heard. "I- I'm glad it's you and not your uncle. I thought for sure you'd want more time."

"Better to get this over with, don't you think? Steve, I'm-"

"No, Eddie, listen to me, first. Please. All I've done this last month and a half is listen and I got things I need to say."

Eddie closes his mouth so fast his teeth click.

Steve takes a deep breath before setting the Walkman on the bed and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he stands. "Thank you. For everything. For being there for Robin, and Dustin, and everyone else. For talking to me like I wasn't trapped in porcelain hell."

"Yeah, no problem, man-"

"Eddie, you never- never once did I feel like a burden, or forgotten, when you were watching over me. And, I don't know, I don't think anyone meant to let me feel that way, but sometimes- you just went above and beyond and hanging out with you was, like, the highlight of this. The best thing to come out of it."

With nowhere to hide, Eddie looks down, let's his hair form a barrier, even for just a moment. That's a lot to hear, and not at all what he expected.

"Eddie," Steve whispers, and Eddie startles when one of Steve's hands comes up to sweep his hair from his face, tucking the hair on the right side of his face behind his ear before it settles on his cheek. "I know you didn't want me to hear what Jeff said yesterday but I'm so fucking glad I did. I, uhh, I thought you were straight-" Eddie doesn't think he's ever been accused of being straight before. "-and I was just trying to be so normal around you while I was, according to Robin, pining-" wait. what. wait. what!? "-and I thought I was doing such a shit job at it because it was like, you'd randomly pull back and away, distance yourself, and I thought it was because I was making you uncomfortable, flirting too much and showing how stupidly obsessed with you I am-" his brain has turned off. Eddie has stopped functioning. "-but now I think it was, like, the exact opposite. You were pulling away because you thought I figured out your crush, but uh... What I mean is, I've wanted to kiss you since the Fourth of July party last year, and there's like, probably a ton of shit we should talk about but I just really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, please, do that," Eddie blurts and Steve laughs even as his other hand joins his first on Eddie's face and pulls him in.

Kissing Steve feels like coming home. Warmth, and safety, and a sense of familiarity, despite them never having done this before. They smile into the kiss, which makes it harder to actually kiss, but then Eddie's tilting his head, his hands moving on their own, one to Steve's hip and the other to his neck, and it's suddenly deeper, more passionate. Steve steps into his space, gets as close as he can as his tongue licks at Eddie's lips and he can't fathom doing anything other than opening up, brushing his own tongue against Steve's, getting a taste of him.

Eddie's not even sure what his plan is when he tried to walk Steve backwards to the bed, but whatever it was goes flying out of his mind when Steve turns them and shoves at Eddie so he ends up flat on his back, eyes wide as he looks up at Steve. Steve, whose eyes have darkened, and his lips are shiny and kiss-bitten, who quickly shrugs off his jacket and throws it somewhere, allowing Eddie to confirm that it is his Metallica tank before Steve's climb onto the bed, knees on either side of Eddie's hips as he lowers himself to kiss Eddie again.

Steve kisses him hungerly before pulling back to kiss his way across Eddie's cheek, over the scarred flesh there that Eddie's long accepted and embraced, down his neck where Steve peppers in little nips between kisses before he latches onto a place low on his neck. It pulls a guttural noise from Eddie that he wasn't even aware he could make, realizing he's going to have marks from Steve on him. Visible reminders that this is actually happening to him and not just a dream.

He's not even sure how long they make out like that, Steve hovering over him, alternating between kissing lips and neck. Eddie gets a hand on the back of Steve's head to pull him down, closer, so he can trail kisses along Steve's neck, mark him, too, in a mirror of what he did to Eddie.

"Fuck, Eddie," Steve hisses, one hand fisting Eddie's shirt just above where Steve's knees bracket him. Steve's over hand is on the bed next to Eddie's head, keeping Steve from fully face planting onto Eddie. "I can't believe you want me back. Can't believe I get to kiss you, that you want me."

Eddie has no idea why Steve thinks he's the one who can't believe what's happening but the words ignite a fluttering in his stomach and turns his brain to mush and even though they are actively making out, Eddie feels that if he doesn't hold Steve's hand right now he's going to die. He releases one hand from the death drip he apparently had on Steve's hips to drop it on the bed, palm up, sliding upwards to meet where Steve has his hand next to Eddie's head. Eddie wiggles his fingers against Steve's wrist until he gets with the picture, adjusting his weight off his hand long enough to Eddie to wiggle his own under it to they're palm to palm, fingers lacing together.

Steve sits up a bit, then, shifting his weight to his knees as he hovers above Eddie, eyes jumping between Eddie's face and their joined hands like this is the part he really can't believe; Eddie wanting to hold his hand.

It makes Eddie laugh, a soft noise, and move their joined hands to his lips, to kiss at Steve's knuckles, eyes never leaving Steve's face as he does so. It's then he notices the shift on Steve's face, so quickly there and gone that Eddie almost isn't sure he sees it, the slight furrow between his brow, frown on his face, eyes darting from Eddie's face to their hands again, before it all smooths over to look unbelievable fond.

It's enough to bring Eddie out of his euphoria, to look at their joined hands and finally register what it is he's feeling, literally. Steve's left hand is joined with his right, and what Eddie sees now that he's really looking is a new scar on Steve's arm, just above his elbow, running down, towards his hand, towards his pinky-

"Eddie, it's okay," Steve is already saying even as Eddie is unlacing their fingers and sitting up. The action forces Steve to shimmy back a bit but he doesn't leave Eddie's lap. Eddie grabs at Steve's hand again, not to lace their fingers but to examine Steve's.

He doesn't have a pinky.

"Steve-"

"No. Whatever you are thinking or worrying about or- or whatever, just. No," Steve says. "I'm fine. It's fine. It doesn't hurt, and I'm fine."

His first instinct is to argue, to try and wriggle himself out from under Steve but he's stopped as Steve grips at him.

"Please don't," Steve sounds hurt, in pain, and that stops Eddie immediately, "please don't take this from me. Don't go. I just got you." Steve's hand trembles, still hovering between them. Where he was cracked as a doll, he is now a scarred as a human, the pinky still gone but the skin smoothed over and healed.

Eddie wraps his hand around Steve's wrist and pulls his hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss where his pinky used to be. "You have me. For as long as you want."

Steve collapses forward against him, like a puppet with cut strings, and Eddie hugs him close.

Much later, after some more crying, and dinner, and cuddling, Eddie does have one final question before sleep.

"Do you know what broke the curse?"

"Oh, yeah," Steve looks so amused. "True Love's Kiss. Dustin was so freaked out about what happened he tucked me into his bed and give me a lil' kiss on the noggin. One blinding flash of light later, Dustin and I are staring at each other in surprise."

"You're kidding."

"Man, I wish I was."

-

Aaaand done!! Thank you so much for reading, and a special thanks to @mcneen for letting me ramble about the options I didn't go with. I'll be posting a meta-commentary post about the things that didn't happen/could have happened/unused ideas at some point but the story itself is finished!

Thanks for reading!

[smurphyse]

Tomatoes Don't Bite | Eddie Munson

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, shock, terror, arguments, crying

Summary: Eddie meets Screech and Clem... and it doesn't go well.

I lounge back in my rocking chair as the sun begins to rise over the Haven. I set a filled coffee mug on the table between me and Eddie, but he doesn’t notice. For the last few hours he’s had a hand over his mouth as he stares wide-eyed at the sky.

The small patch of sunlight rests above like a single out of place square of fabric on a ripped quilt. We're surrounded on all sides by the Darkness, nestled in this enclave of trees and paths I've created. To me it's comforting, but to Eddie it seems to be petrifying. 

I’m on my third cup, listening to 70’s soft rock as the world inside the Haven wakes as I usually do. Eddie’s getting in my way, but I’m trying to remember what it’s like to be a human being again and let him work his way through his shock. What I want to do is shake him and maybe give him a sharp backhand to snap out of it, but from what I recall about being in polite society that isn’t very… polite.

“It’s not so bad, y’know?” I muse aloud. I’ve been musing on and off for the last few hours but have only gotten a few grunts and sighs in reply. “I have a big garden, a pond. There’s a lot of books for you to read while you recover.”

He says nothing, and I can see the red marks on his cheek from how tightly he’s holding his face. I want to force his hands away from his jaw but it would likely upset him. He’s refused to get out of the armchair since I moved it with my powers. I probably scared him.

“You should take a bath. I don’t have a shower.” I sip from my mug to give him the opportunity to reply, but he doesn’t. “I washed your hair as best I could but you’ve got as much as I do so I’ve mostly let it be. It could use a good wash.”

No reply. 

I take another pull off my coffee before deciding I've had enough. The clothes I gave him last night still lay on his lap, so I get to my feet and grab the sweatpants. Eddie lets me maneuver his feet into the leg holes and tug them up over his thighs. I try to keep the blanket in place since he seemed so sheepish before about being naked, but it just makes this harder. Where I came from naked bodies were just bodies, but once I got into the real world I found people didn't think that way if they didn't grow up in a lab. 

I use my powers to lift him up enough to pull them over his hips, and he finally seems to notice me. Eddie drags his hand from his jaw and sets it firmly on the armrest of the chair, watching as I unfold the flannel.

"How long have you been here?" he asks. His voice is small, gravelly from lack of use over the past few weeks. I shrug and take one of his hands, pull it through the sleeve. 

"Eleven years."

"Eleven?" he asks sharply, and when I meet his gaze he's shocked, terrified. "How am I supposed to get home?"

"I can take you home when you've healed more," I reply, shrugging again. "You can't exactly go to a hospital with these injuries. They'll ask too many questions."

"I should have died-," he begins, but I cut him off sharply. I don't like the thought. I don't want to bury him now that I've spoken to him. 

He's real now, not just another victim I've happened upon in the Darkness. He has life and light behind those warm brown eyes. He has people waiting for him in the real world.

"But you didn't. Don't worry about it."

Eddie watches me in confusion as I finish dressing him. I leave the flannel open so I have easier access to his healing wounds, and he makes no move to button it up. He leans in as I'm on my knees in front of him, "You're like the rest of them. From Hawkins lab. You're like Eleven."

Eleven? I think, she's just a little girl. But she's not anymore. If my math is right she's just about fifteen, more powerful than she should be though I haven’t seen her since she was a child. I can feel when she comes here. I can feel how scared Henry is by her presence. Like the rest of us I’m drawn to her, but staying here means I can keep myself far away from her and the truth that comes with her.

I eye him with caution. I don’t want him to see more than I need to give. The more information Eddie Munson knows about me the more danger I’m putting myself in.

“I haven’t seen her in a long time,” I tell him quietly, but my own longing for my sisters surfaces again as it had years ago when Eight escaped the lab herself. My voice threatens to shake as I ask, “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says softly, apologetically. “I never met her. I only heard stories from my friends.”

Eddie flashes me a lopsided grin that shocks me, a startling change from his statuesque staring at nothing all night. “I hear she’s a total badass, that she’s one cool chick.”

I hum as I think about that. I don’t even know what she looks like anymore. I used to cuddle her on my lap, rubbing my hand over her buzzed head as I rocked her to sleep. She always had nightmares, like me, and I tried to give her good memories that I never had. We shared the same eyes, deep brown and big like a doe. All the kids did with the exception of Henry, no matter how much they looked like their birth mothers. Eleven and I always looked a lot alike.

So maybe she looks like me… I find some comfort in that.

Eddie breaks my thoughts with a hand that covers mine. His fingers are now home to small scars where the bones broke through the skin in some places, but his touch is gentle. He’s warm and for a split second it grounds me before panic sets in. I’m not a human anymore, I shouldn’t be treated like one. 

I will always be the monster that did this to Eddie Munson and the rest of those kids.

“They said she can… I don’t know, find people?” he starts, slow and soft. “Can you do that or do you guys have different powers?”

"That's dangerous, Eddie," I growl, and he leans back. "You go looking for people and they can find you back."

"At least they'll know I'm alive!" he bursts with an energy he shouldn't have. "She'll know you're alive and she can come get us out of here. We can stop Henry and-."

“No.”

“Zero, come on,” he begs as I stand and snatch my coffee mug from the table. I’ve had enough of his questions, so I wave my hand behind me as I stalk back into the cabin. His armchair screeches across the wood as he twists in it to look at me. “I need to see them. I need to know they’re okay.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” I grunt in annoyance as I stomp into the kitchen. I pour myself another cup of coffee and lean against the counter. I turn the chair so he stops angling to see me. “Screech and Clem didn’t tell me anyone else was out there.”

“Who’s that?” 

I blanch, and right on cue the front door bursts open. The screen door hits the wall with a clattering BANG, and Eddie jumps in his spot, eyes going wide. Clem comes bounding in, all gurgling barks and growl-like pants, followed by Screech ambling in through the doorway.

“What the FUCK?” Eddie screams. He scrambles against the back of the chair, clawing to get away. Clem jumps up on the edge with her talons, licking out at him as he swats her feebly away. “Help! Oh my god, help!”

I roll my eyes and set the mug on the counter. With a flick of my wrist the armchair pulls back a few feet, and I hurry in front of it before Clem can pounce on Eddie again with her kisses. Holding out my hands, I give her a stern look.

Clem sits down with a plop, her little tail thumping against the wood. Screech stands behind her with his wings tucked behind his back, head cocked down thinking he was in trouble. Eddie pants behind me, a reedy high sound as he tries to steady himself.

“Guys, go outside,” I tell them, pointing back the way they came. They both look out the door and back to me, cocking their heads. I sigh, “I know you want to meet my new friend but he’s not ready. Go outside and I’ll feed you dinner later.”

I can feel their thoughts, how sad they are that I won’t let them hang out with us here. I'd rather talk to them than Mr. Twenty Questions anyway. "Go on, it's okay."

With little brrups, they turn tail and sulk outside and I swing the door shut behind them. 

"Wait!" I call out, and they turn to face me again. I hear Eddie shudder behind me but I ignore it. "Did you see anybody else out there recently? Alive or dead?"

Screech nods, and I hear his yes inside my mind. Eddie groans, "Oh no, no, no."

"Did they die out there?"

No. Screech shakes head and points at Eddie. Just him. The rest escaped from his group. The others were dead when their consciousness was brought here.

"The rest escaped," I reiterate, and Eddie stops his babbling. "They're back in the real world. The gate closed behind them."

"How do you know?" he asks. I turn to look at him and those brown eyes pour over with tears. It twists something inside me and I want to smack him as though that may make it stop.

I jerk my head over my shoulder at Screech, who waves one bony wing, "Screech told me."

"But, but, it's one of them," Eddie blubbers, his eyes flicking between me, Clem and Screech. "It's one of the monsters. They killed Chrissy! They ate my insides like a fucking taco, Zero-!"

Screech whines, Clem covers her face with her paw. Their pain at being compared to those corrupted beings radiates inside me. I shake my head at Eddie. 

"They're my friends. I found them as babies, hiding under a leaf and curled up together."

I smile at the memory, and I point my palm at Eddie to show it to him. His eyes glaze over as my power takes root, and he fights me, but I push gently until I can reach inside his mind and latch on. 

Purple storm clouds flash in a vibrant sea of red violent haze. Goosebumps form on my skin in the warm summer air as the memory of that cold night pours through us both. I'm watching my boots sink into the sticky gray mud in the particle ridden rain. I'm sneaking through the woods back to the Haven, but I trip over a vine and burst into tears as I hit the ground. 

Every day in the cold was getting harder, and I was so weak I could barely walk. I sob into the mud, ready to give up when I hear it. A small screeching caws at me, so loud that I flinch and lay down flat so nothing can find me. I hear it again, but the fluttering of wings that accompanies it is too small for the voice. 

That's when I see them, two small beings that can fit into the palm of my hand. One is a tiny bird with no eyes and red leathery skin. The other is like a chubby tadpole, its mouth shaped like the puckered end of a clementine. 

When I reach out my hand they climb onto my palm and nestle in, and the connection is immediate. We're bonded in that split second of terrifying vulnerability, the same way I felt when I healed Eddie for the first time. 

I let the memory wash away with the rain, and Eddie gasps as his eyes pull back into focus. He struggles to stand and this time I let him, ready to catch him if he falls. 

Eddie clutches the arm of the chair, his body trembling. His voice shakes with his fear, "Why are they different?"

He points at Clem and Screech, who wait patiently for further instructions. The warmth floods back to my skin and I take a shuddering breath as I shrug, "Their mothers were killed. I took care of them. If I hadn't they would have died or been eaten by one of the others."

"Why?" he asks defiantly. My answers aren't good enough. Even I know it, but fuck this guy. I saved his ass so I don't owe him shit. 

"They're predators. It's what they do."

"That's not what I meant."

I look at my friends and smile, and they visibly relax before heading back outside. I coax Eddie back into the chair by pushing at his chest, and since he can't do much else he falls back onto the seat. 

I lean over him until my nose nearly touches his. He gulps, his pupils dilate, a soft sheen of nervous sweat eases its way from his pores. I know he's scared and I'm not helping, but I don't want to talk about this anymore. 

"I didn't want to be alone anymore."

Eddie stays defiant, on my nerves and pissing me off. He sets his jaw and squares his shoulders, "Is that why you brought me here? So you had someone to talk to? Are you that miserable?"

"Maybe I should have left you there to be eaten alive then!"

"Maybe you should have!" he screams back, and I've had enough. I turn on my heel and stomp towards the door, toward the sunshine and away from Eddie Munson. He yells as I walk through the frame, "And stay out of my head!"

"Fine!" I throw over my shoulder, flinging the door shut. It lands with a shattering crack as the frame splinters under the force. 

"Fine!"

Eddie glares around the cabin after Zero storms out. The screen door hangs on a hinge in front of him where she busted it, and he can't believe the stories are true. 

All his friends had said about Eleven… everything he'd seen Henry capable of… his mind was struggling to grasp it all. Zero's power terrified him. He'd felt her seeping into his mind, not using him or taking his control, but spreading around him in a vision that he swore he could touch. What else was she capable of?

He'd felt the creatures, Screech and Clem, climb into his palm…Zero's palm. The rain bit his skin and blanketed his bones in the damp chill. He'd felt the connection of their consciousness… of his own connecting with hers. 

She was so frightened…even now with him. He felt it all. 

Eddie never understood what true psionic telepathy meant… but now? What a whirlwind… What a gift. He can't wait to meet Eleven.

Eddie can hear the gurgling barks of the demadog, the little coos of that bird. She's talking to them softly, apologizing for him. After everything he never thought of those things as animals capable of anything more than death and terror. She saved him, and from the shoddy bits of memory he had, the creatures had too. Dustin told him once that he’d saved a demadog and it became his friend. It ate his cat, but in the end it didn’t hurt him.

That has to count for something, right? 

Deciding it's best to keep the woman who saved his life on his side, Eddie gets shakily to his feet. His muscles shake like jello, but luckily the cabin is small enough that he can hold onto the various shelves and plant stands Zero has set up all over the place. 

Avoiding the splinters in the wood, Eddie opens the screen door and steps back onto the porch. She sits with her back to him in the grass, but he sees her head cock to the side. Screech and Clem are nowhere to be found so he lets the door swing shut behind him as he grips the rail for support. 

He hadn’t noticed before, but there were plants everywhere in this place. They seeped out of the windows of the cabin and around the rails of the porch, long tendrils vines creeping through the grass. They reminded him of the vines in the Upside Down, but these didn’t frighten him. Instead he rather likes the look, a place filled with life in the dark.

"You shouldn't be walking around so much yet."

With a flick of her wrist Eddie's pulled off the porch. His center of gravity lurches as she lifts him with ease, a startled yelp bursting from his chest. His eyes snap shut in fear but then he's plopped down on a pile of dirt beside her. 

"You need to rest," she says as he opens his eyes, watching him out of the corner of hers. "Your muscles are weak from laying in bed for two weeks. Take it slow."

Eddie squints, "Two weeks?"

She nods, her fingers go back to the dirt in front of her. Her eyelids flutter for a moment, and from the ground sprouts a stem. Eddie watches in awe as it grows and hardens until it reaches the top of her head, and two tomatoes bloom from two of the branches. 

Zero plucks one off and hands it to him without a word before sinking her teeth into the other. It's warm in his palm like the sun has soaked it in its rays for weeks. 

She turns to look at him, "It's not gonna bite you."

Eddie waves it at her, marveling at the squishy firm fruit in his hand, "How did you do that?"

"It's basic biology. Turn sunlight into nutrients with the water and soil." She lifts an old tupperware from the ground beside her and shakes it. It sounds like a rainstick. "Just add a seed."

"So you're like a druid, huh?" Eddie smirks. He leans his elbows on his knees and squeezes the tomato lightly just to see it bend and bounce back into shape. "That's awesome."

Zero cocks a brow, "A… druid?"

"Yeah, like in DnD."

"That game with the dice?"

Eddie nods with a smile. She doesn't return it. 

She makes a face. “Eat your tomato.”

Eddie complies, sinking his teeth into the ripe fruit. The acidic-sweet juices flood over his tongue, and before he can stop himself he lets out a humming moan. Zero watches him with a curious smile while he chews and swallows.

“That’s the best fucking tomato I’ve ever had!” 

Zero leans back to rest on her elbows to watch him. Eddie tries to focus on his tomato and not the way her flannel rides up to reveal her black panties and the tops of her tanned thighs. The last thing he needs is a boner in front of this girl he doesn't know. 

"What were you doing out there?" 

When he makes a face she points to where the Upside Down meets the sunshine. His eyes widen. He'd nearly forgotten about that. 

Eddie lets the tomato hang in his hands and sighs, "We were trying to stop Vecna…Henry."

"Well, that was dumb. How the hell were you going to even do that? You're a weakling compared to him, might as well be a mouse against a lion."

The anger from that morning builds in his chest again, and he waves the fruit at her, "Why haven't you stopped him?"

She shrugs. "What happens outside of the Haven isn't any of my business."

"He's killing people, Zero!" Eddie yells, but she just stares at him. "He killed Chrissy and so many others."

She sighs in annoyance and shakes her head, "People die every day, Eddie. It's not my job to save them."

"Yet you went out and saved my ass anyway." He points out. 

"You can thank Screech and Clem for that. They wouldn't leave me alone until I checked out the swarm that was eating your insides."

"Those…those monster things?" Eddie sputters, "Why would they care?"

"They might be predators but they're not monsters," Zero growls. Her dark eyes light with fire as she stares him down, her jaw set tightly. "You don't understand anything about this place. Another reason you and your friends shouldn't be messing with it. You should never have come here."

"He killed Chrissy in front of me," he whispers, his voice cracking with the memory of her violent death. He can still hear the noises… Eddie shakes his head to wash it away. "She was scared and in pain. She didn't deserve that."

Zero softens, but only a bit. Her eyes are calculating, watchful, like she still isn't sure what to make of him. Her voice is gentle as she crosses her legs and leans forward, "He killed your girlfriend?"

Eddie shakes his head, "She wasn't even really my friend…but she was nice to me. Even though she was the most popular girl in school she was always nice. She was just scared and needed help. 

"I tried to help her." Eddie drops the tomato and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes as tears begin to form. His grief for Chrissy was overwhelming when he let himself think too long about her, especially after Max told them what she'd been seeing. "I ran away."

"Of course you did. Anyone would," Zero's voice came from his side, and when he looked up she'd moved next to him. Her hand hung in the air like she thought about putting a comforting palm on his shoulder but thought better of it. 

"She was so scared." And with that Eddie finally burst into tears. He wanted to curl up, but his sore and stiff body wouldn't quite let him. 

His chest shook with the weight of it all, exhausted and terrified and just wanting to go home. Instead of holding him, Zero just moves to sit between his spread legs and lets him cry without her watching him. He was grateful to be away from her sharp gaze, and his hand found its way to lean heavily on her shoulder as he sobbed. 

She didn't seem to mind, and instead focused on growing her tomato plant. Zero didn't even stiffen as he held on to her. She was the only lifeline he had left, and she let him cling to her like a child lost in the woods. 

That's exactly what he is. 

Lost.

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Notes: I'm always gonna be salty about Chrissy bc I think she and Eddie really could have been good friends <;/3

ST Taglist: @tlclick73 @theloser007 @sadbitchfangirl @chaoticcancer  @harrys-tittie @assassinsasha23 @spacedoutdaydreamer @legendarytrashcopeclipse @notahappystan

[liarist]

Comedy

Chapter 3: The Identity No warnings

As I woke up, I let out a big yawn, got dressed, and checked the weather for the day. I put on a black wig with bangs, lightly applied makeup, and then wore a coat.

"I'm going out; I'll be back in a bit," I informed. "Do you need me to buy anything?"

"If you can bring coffee or energy drinks, I'd appreciate it," Jake replied.

While I was on the bus, I found another photo in Hannah's cloud. It was a picture of a cat, and I almost melted from cuteness. I sent it to Jake along with a bunch of heart-eyed emojis.

After a couple of hours, I reached my destination. I bought myself a coffee from a café and sat on the terrace. Five minutes later, someone joined me.

"This has been quite unexpected, R," P said, leaving an envelope on the table. I took it and placed it in my bag. "You're lucky I was nearby."

"I know, thank you, P," I said. "It's really important, how much do I owe you?"

"Double the usual amount," P replied. I nodded and left the money on the table. "I'm genuinely grateful for this."

"Can I ask about the other person?" P inquired.

"I was planning on taking a vacation, and unexpectedly, among other things, this came up. But it's nothing bad, or at least I hope so," I said, taking a sip of my coffee. "These… cards… are necessary for emergencies with a partner I'm working with."

"Well, everything you need is there. If you need anything else, just let me know," P said, getting up and leaving.

I finished my coffee and took the bus back.

Thomas: And?

Rebekah: What?

Thomas: Have you looked at Hannah's photos? Do you remember her?

Rebekah: I've seen them, and I was hoping to recognize her from one of my trips, but I'm sorry to say I don't. As you may have noticed, I'm not from this area, so the only way I would have seen her is if I had encountered her during one of my travels.

Thomas: Oh. Okay. I see.

And he disconnects.

Jake: Sorry I didn't message you earlier. Clue number three?

Rebekah: Yes, that's right. The second clue is a bridge in a forest, and the third clue is a beautiful cat.

Jake: Hmm, I'll try to find out some information about these photos.

Rebekah: What could be in these photos?

Jake: Metadata: where the photos were taken, when Hannah uploaded them to the cloud… The more I know, the better. Give me some time. Oh, one more thing. I have another clue for you: ID47013. The police are onto Thomas, Hannah's boyfriend. You should focus on someone else.

Rebekah: Do I have to call the number?

Jake: No, enter it in your contacts. It's at the top right where you see the messages.

I do as he says and see that the number is for Dan.

I get off the bus and stop by the supermarket to buy the energy drinks Jake requested. We didn't have many things in the house, so I should buy some more.

I made a list on my phone:

Thermos cups for coffee

Kettle

A couple of blankets because it gets really cold at night

Coffee

Sugar

Energy drinks (a lot of them)

Non-perishable food items

Gas for the camping stove

I think that should be enough, but let's be realistic—I'll probably come back with more things than what's on the list.

When I arrive home, I knock on the door, and Jake opens it. He raises his eyebrows when he sees me and helps me with the bags.

"I thought you were only going to bring coffee and energy drinks," he murmurs.

"I'm a danger when I go shopping; everything becomes important when I see it," I tell him.

We start placing the items on the table.

"Looks like these are indeed important things," he says, checking the purchases.

"Yes, I don't plan on surviving on instant food," I say. "And I don't want to be cold at night."

"Well, I guess I can't refuse," he remarks.

"Oh, I brought this," I say, taking out the envelope I had stored in my bag. "Today, I met up with my contact for documents. I had to retrieve them all soon anyway, so I thought it would be a good idea to do it now, and I took the liberty of requesting papers for you as well." I hand him his documents. "There's an ID card, passport, motorcycle, and car driver's license. There's also work information with all the details. The passport provides access to most countries, and more than 40 are visa-free."

"What about this? 'Rebekah'?" He looks noticeably surprised.

"It's for the times when we may need to escape. It helps us maintain a low profile. I can tell you from experience that I've never had any problems with this documentation; it's very reliable," I explain.

"Thank you so much, truly, thank you, Rebekah. I don't know how to thank you."

"I know what it's like to have to live on the run, and I know the relief that comes with having these papers. I feel a sense of peace with them. We're in this together, Jake," I smile.