#something about “fix it back to normal” really got me and I'm not sure why

[shittyutmv]

Ever since I liked your happy 1999 post the only thing that's been on my feed is gay undertale sans artwork and I don't know how to fix it back to normal

this could be the funniest ask we've ever gotten. anon, my heart goes out to you , but other than throwing it all away, I have no advice for you. happy 1999

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I pre-S4 I secret relationship AU I rated M I 3.9 k I angst I S4 fix-it I time skips

This was going to be a fully fleshed out story but I lost the umpf to finish, it just felt unnecessary to commit to an entire fic, so here's the rough draft for anyone interested.

July 10th, 1985

Eddie answered the door to find Steve Harrington standing off the porch, one foot on the bottom step, looking a bit like mangled raccoon roadkill, with somehow still an immaculate head of hair.

“Whoa, man, who'd you piss off this time?”

Steve slow blinked up at him. “I don't wanna talk about it. You open for business?”

He didn't normally take house calls but they weren't in school right now - Steve never would be again, the lucky bastard - and Eddie was saving up for a new amp, so yeah, he was open for business today.

“For you, Moneybags, always.” He held the door open wide.

Steve walked in, mumbling, “Not sure Moneybags is accurate now that I'm unemployed.”

“Well, then your money is even more precious. You could've spent it all on Budweiser but you chose me.” He fluttered his eyelashes at Steve.

“Don't know any other drug dealers,” he pointed out.

Eddie scowled. “C'mon, man, give me the illusion of being special.”

Steve's lips quirked, playful, even though it must've been stretching that cut painfully. “Oh, Munson, only your steller ditch weed can save me!”

Eddie would never admit it but the fact that he played along, albeit sarcastically, made him give Steve an extra pre-roll for free.

***

Aug 16th 1985

“And I said to her, ‘You can't expect me to tell you that. It's against the bro code or something,’ not that we were ever actually bros, it's the principle, right? But then she gives me the fuckin’ wet eyes, like I'm killing her-”

Eddie wasn't really listening, he was more focused on the task at hand, but Steve was a talker and Eddie had made peace with that weeks ago, so he politely hummed and nodded as needed to keep him going.

“Shit.”

“What?” Steve stopped monologuing to ask.

“Nothin’, just didn't have as much in this bag as I thought.” He put the tray aside and got up to grab another sack. There should be enough to round out Steve's usual six joints in his dresser stash.

“Anyway,” Steve continued on, unperturbed by the interruption, “I said to her-” He continued to wax about Nancy fucking Wheeler while Eddie dug through his top drawer. Ridiculous man couldn't wait thirty seconds, no, had to follow Eddie into his room. “Like Byers has the balls to cheat on her, ya know? And what the fuck am I supposed to do about it if he did? Fly to California and… Huh.”

“What?”

He was so wrapped up in looking for the right strain, he didn't turn to look until Steve's continued silence became weird.

He should've just given Steve five joints and charged him less.

“Uhhh. I can explain?”

Steve looked up from the skinmag on Eddie's side table and laughed. Actually laughed. “Oh yeah? I'd love to hear it.”

Why did he look so happy about it? Christ, he was literally bouncing on his toes.

“You're being weirdly chill about this,” he pointed out when Steve continued to grin.

“It's just funny, I guess. I have that same one.”

Time stopped. It started back up of course but not in any way that made sense. Because Steve was giving him that look, that open faced ‘See anything you like?’ look, with the steely eyed determination of a man who knew what he was doing. He'd seen that look before, in clubs, on the street. The problem Eddie was trying to work out wasn't so much ‘Could Steve Harrington really be queer?’, it was ‘Could Steve Harrington really want to fuck around with me?’

“What the fuck does that mean?” He asked, sure he was reading this wrong.

Steve cocked his head. “It means exactly what it sounds like.”

He turned to give Steve his full attention. “You, Steve Harrington, own the August edition of Drummer magazine.”

“Yes.”

“The gay porn mag.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He watched as Steve's face turned a lovely shade of pink. “To look at pictures of naked men and jerk off,” he said calmly, despite the blush. “Also the articles are well written and informative.”

That shocked a laugh out of Eddie. He crossed his arms and leaned up against the dresser. “Uh huh. What was your favorite one?”

“That story about the military rites of passage. Something about being told what to do gets me going.”

It could've just been a good guess, Eddie supposed, but he didn't think so.

“Oh yeah, private?” He said, all bravado. “Drop and give me twenty.”

The bravado died a soldier's death as he watched Steve hit the floor, on his knees, and then begin doing actual pushups. He watched up until twelve or so - the play of muscle under that blue and white polo was really something - before stopping him with a laugh.

“Get up, you fuckin' jock. We get it, you're in great shape.”

Steve did stop but only so he could sit back on his heels, hands placed firmly on his thighs, to look up at Eddie as though awaiting further instructions.

He gulped.

***

Sept 28th 1985

Eddie had his hand down Steve's pants, sucking a sizable hickey on his neck, when Steve blurted out, “Teen Wolf is playing at the Drive-In in Shelbyville.”

He backed away slowly, swimming through a haze of horny confusion to mumble, “The fuck?”

“Um. Just sayin'.”

“‘Just sayin'?’ Why are you ‘just sayin'’ right now?” He articulated this with a heavy squeeze to Steve's dick.

“Ha!” Steve arched toward him while also wincing in embarrassment. “I just wanted to ask before I forgot.”

A drop of cold lead sank Eddie's stomach. “Ask…what?”

He blinked at Eddie in the dark. “Do you wanna go? To the movies? With me?”

Heat washed out the cold feeling and replaced it with mounting anger; Eddie slowly pulled his hand from Steve's pants. He watched Eddie back away with wide-eyed confusion, going to ask what was wrong probably, but Eddie beat him to it, unwilling to hear the concern in his voice.

“I thought you understood what this was, Harrington. We don't do dates,” he spit the word like a curse. “That's something you do with the nice girls from your daddy's country club. We get each other off in the back of my van, where no one can see it rocking. Right? That's what this is.”

Steve's whole face shut down, giving nothing away. He gave Eddie a small nod, doing his pants back up. That was probably for the best, he was too rattled to get off now anyway.

“Yeah, I think we're done for today. Come see me when you remember what it is I'm good for.”

Steve didn't respond, just kicked open Eddie's back doors and hopped out. The beemer started a second later, not peeling out angrily, not kicking up gravel and dust in its wake, just drifted off into the night.

Eddie's hand shook as he tried to light a cigarette, flame winking in and out as his fingers slipped, another thing Steve had ruined. What an asshole, he thought, still furious. What the fuck was he thinking, asking Eddie out? That they'd just go to the movies together? Like a couple of regular people? Didn't he know that's not how things worked? If you're lucky, which Eddie was, you find a mentor to teach you the rules of staying safe. If you're not lucky, you learn the hard way.

Going steady with rich, popular boys was not on the list of approved activities.

Eddie snapped his cigarette in half and chucked it out the back door. The black of the lake beyond the trees, near invisible under a waxing moon, left him feeling sick to his stomach and lonely. The nights were getting too chilly to sit with the doors open anyway. He swung them shut and shrugged his flannel back on. The memory of Steve running his warm hands over Eddie's shoulders, slipping it off as he ran them down his back, struck Eddie like a slap to the face.

He shouldn't have freaked out. He could've handled it better. It wasn't Steve's fault he didn't know the rules. He didn't have someone like Gil to warn him about how dangerous it was out there. Oh well, it was too late to take it back now. He'd apologize when Steve came around again.

***

Oct 10th 1985

“I just don't get why he won't talk to me. I tried to see him at Family Video and he ran into the back office and locked the door. Buckley just stared at me until I was sure my hair would catch fire. Like I ever did anything to her,” he grumbled.

“Ed,” Gil sighed over the phone like Eddie was being particularly stupid, “he wanted to take you out and you yelled at him.”

When he said it like that it sounded reasonable. “Yeah, except we don't do that! You taught me that! That's not safe!”

“Oh, no. Oh, Eddie,” he sighed again. It was really starting to piss him off. “I didn't mean for you to take that to heart. You can't shut out everyone who might love you-”

“Love me?!” He screeched. “Are you insane? He didn't love me!”

“I'm not saying he did, I just mean you can't expect everyone you sleep with is going to agree no strings attached forever. Eventually you're going to fall for someone, and then all the bullshit running around in secret, that shit becomes worth it. I wasn't trying to stop you from falling in love, I was just trying to teach you how to get around safely.”

Eddie sputtered. He was so confused. Where was the burly, son of a bitch, leather vest wearing, biker bear who once told Eddie where to find the best glory holes in a new town? What the fuck was the shit about falling in love? That wasn't supposed to be in the cards for him. And certainly not with Steve Harrington. That was never going to be a thing. Not in the cards, not in the casino, not in Las Vegas itself! But all of a sudden he was allowed to date if he was sure the other person was worthy? Since when?!

Gil, instead of taking pity on him, doubled down. “I think it's probably too late with this Steve fella, but Eddie, don't push away the next one who takes an interest in you. Okay? It's still rough out there, it's still dangerous, but, god, what is any of this for if we aren't allowed to be in love?”

“You asshole,” he sniffed, “where was all this lovely advice two years ago?”

“You were a kid, dumb ass. If I'd told you to run off with the first guy who gave you butterflies, you'd be dead already. I was trying to keep you safe first, cut me some slack!”

“Fine! But I still blame you for fucking me on the Harrington thing. You have no idea what you cost me. Literally and figuratively. The wallet and the ass on that man.” He wasn't going to admit to missing the man attached to the wallet and the ass. It was too fresh of a realization.

“I'm sorry, kid. Seems like you really liked him.”

“What? No I didn't.”

“That why you called me and ranted about him for a half hour straight? Because you don't like him?”

Eddie scowled at the sink. “Shut up.”

Gil sighed at him again.

***

March 29th, 1986

A car had pulled up.

His blood was rushing in his ears, nothing but the sound of the ocean in a giant seashell, like the one his mom had kept on her dresser, so he didn't hear the voice at first. It wormed its way into his understanding slowly, a male voice, low, calling his name.

He grasped the bottle tighter, waited until the voice got closer, and then sprang out from under the tarp. His senses grew sharp, focusing on the dark shape in front of him. They came together hard, fell into the wall with a jarring crash. All thoughts went into stopping the body against him from hurting him first.

Hands grasped his wrist to keep the bottle from finding its mark. Strong hands, with wide knuckles, ones that Eddie hadn't seen in six months but still, unbidden, saw in his dreams.

He finally looked up and found Steve Harrington at the end of his makeshift knife.

“It's me, Eds, it's me” he was panting. “You're safe. I promise. It's okay.” He kept repeating it until Eddie finally let go of the bottle. Let go and then buried his face into Steve's neck and wept. He couldn't stop it, it just came out of him, everything, all the terror and confusion and guilt.

“I didn't do it, I didn't hurt her, it wasn't me,” he kept repeating.

“I know. I know, Eds, I know you didn't,” Steve answered, hand still running over the back of his head. Like the last six months were just a terrible dream.

He didn't even notice Steve wasn't alone, not until Henderson clasped him around the shoulder and told him there were things living under Hawkins, things that would make a horde of Beholders turn tail and run.

And they'd been dealing with it all since ‘83?

Which meant Steve was already a hardened veteran when he was goofing off in Eddie's trailer, making tusks out of pretzel rods and calling Ewoks by the wrong name.

“Jesus Christ.” He put his head between his knees and did his best to ignore Steve's hand rubbing up and down his back. He didn't want the comfort but he took it anyway.

***

March 31st 1986

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve pulled up next to him, skipping over the slimy Devil Roots with ease, “I just wanted to say thanks for savin’ my ass back there.”

Eddie chuckled lowly, not ready to say, ‘You know what you did, you macho asshole.’ “Pretty sure Wheeler saved your ass but you're welcome.”

“You definitely helped. I mean, you didn't have to swim through a portal to hell after me but you did.”

The shame of Steve giving him even an ounce of credit crept up his throat and started to choke him. Steve had been getting drug to hell by some unknown force and still Eddie had hesitated. He was a coward.

“Man, I just didn't want to be the asshole who stayed behind.”

The silence felt damning, like he should've just kept his mouth shut.

Steve jammed his hands into his ratty sweatpants. “Right.”

Now he thought Eddie didn't care at all.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he whispered, “You know that's not the whole truth, right? I know things are weird between us but I don't want you dead.”

He had to keep his eyes on the ground as they walked but out of his periphery he could see Steve nod.

“Yeah. I get it.”

He didn't but Eddie didn't know what else to say. He hadn't let himself think about what they were to each other now. Not friends, not ex’s, not strangers. He’d tried not to think about Steve at all - except what he couldn't avoid, like Henderson’s obsession with him and things his brain forced him to remember at night - since whatever they were doing ended. Since Steve left and never came back.

He opened his mouth to soften the moment, tell Steve how Henderson would've killed him in a more creative way than Vecna if he'd let Steve die, but Steve cut him off.

“I should thank you for that too.”

Eddie chanced looking over.

“For what?”

“For ending things when you did.”

The squirm in his gut worsened. They hadn't talked about it. He didn't want to talk about it. “Oh?” He choked out.

“Yeah, I was, uh, making a bigger thing out of what we, what we were doing, than I should've. I blame Robin for enabling me, she's the one who said to just ask you out like a normal person. Sorry for making it weird and ruining it. Always trying to give my heart to people who don't want it.” He chuckled morosely. “Anyway, thanks, I guess. You probably saved me from a lot more heartache later down the line.” He slapped Eddie on the back, like they were old chums, and then he skipped up to the girls without a backwards glance.

Eddie stood there, alone, gaping at his retreating back.

***

April 1st, 1986

Eddie had always been good at compartmentalizing. When his mom got sick, he got really into Tolkien, let that be his focal point in a storm of hospital visits and missed days at school. When his dad got picked up and sent to prison, he let Wayne teach him how to play guitar, which he spent most of his waking hours on. When Steve made it clear he was done with Eddie, he packed up the little pocket of time they had, the enjoyment he'd found in Steve's company, and folded it under the recesses of his mind, told himself it was all for the best, to not think of it again, and then he threw himself into Hellfire.

So, now that he’d found himself in another untenable situation, clarity struck Eddie like lightning as he thrashed on the ground - Hey, dumbass, Steve Harrington actually liked you, wanted to date you, would've fallen for you, and you fucking blew it. Not only did you blow it, you broke his fucking heart.

It was an asinine thought to have while he was actively dying but considering the alternative was acknowledging that he was being eaten alive by demon bats, he welcomed thoughts of Steve.

Steve, who Eddie had convinced himself was just scratching an itch with someone who wouldn't tell, but who had actually been telling his best friend the whole time.

Steve, who came over for weed but stayed to hang out, sometimes for hours, well before they were fooling around.

Steve, who wasn't anything like Eddie had assumed he would be, was exactly the kinda guy Eddie would've fallen for. If he was allowed.

But he had been allowed, the whole time apparently, and was too stupid to notice.

Henderson showed up a minute later, just as the bats collapsed around him, thank god. If he'd gotten the asshole killed he was fairly certain Steve would've brought him back somehow just to kill him again.

He wasted a lot of breath apologizing to Dustin, agreeing that he was totally gonna make it. Wasted some more trying to bequeath Hellfire to him. Wasted his last breath to say, “Tell Steve I'm sorry.”

Dustin wouldn't understand what for but maybe Steve would.

Just before he lost consciousness he caught Dustin saying, “Tell him yourself,” and then something that sounded suspiciously like, “Eddie! No.”

But by then he was gone.

***

Date unknown, 1986

He was never sure if what he was experiencing was real or not. Since the pain had stopped everything had a surreal quality, mostly flashes of light, some sound trickled in, shouting and crying and tires squealing; all of it was fleeting and seemed unimportant.

The first thing that felt real was Wayne's voice. Gruff and short and so, so familiar. It brought tears to his eyes. He was pretty sure anyway, hard to tell when he couldn't open them yet.

“Get your boy, Fletch, or I'm gonna break his arm.”

“Now, Wayne, we're just doin’ our job,” Chief Powell said in a softer tone than Wayne's snarl or Callahan's offense.

“Either one of you touch a hair on his head, I'll-”

“Have Steve call his famous lawyer dad,” Robin piped up from somewhere in the room, thankfully stopping Wayne from further incriminating himself.

“He's a divorce attorney,” Steve mumbled. “But he knows people!” He rallied after what Eddie imagined was a look from Robin.

A beat went by, Eddie almost slipped away in the quiet, before Chief Powell spoke up again. “You're all gonna go to bat for this kid?”

Steve responded first. “He's a hero.”

Eddie didn't get to enjoy that for long, a nurse came in to shuffle them all out of the room so they could re-up his pain meds and then it was nighty-night again.

***

Date Unknown, 1986

The next time Eddie woke, it was dark in the room, only a bit of light coming in from under the door and from the parking lot lights outside. His eyes felt gritty, heavy with sleep, but he could make out the shape of Steve in the chair beside his bed.

He was awake, staring down at the side of Eddie's mattress.

No.

Eddie followed his gaze and found Steve staring at his hand where it laid across his own forearm, careful of the tubes they were both hooked to. As soon as he saw it, he became aware of the warmth of it, Steve's huge hand draped over his cold skin.

“Feels nice,” he tried to say but it came out more garbled mess than actual words.

It was enough to get Steve's attention though.

“Eddie!” He said with excitement, relief. “What do you need? I should get the nurse.”

Eddie forced his arm to respond, to turn over and clasp Steve where he was about to remove himself. His grasp wasn't near enough to keep Steve in place but the fact that he tried kept Steve where he was.

His voice refused to cooperate, felt like coughing up glass, but he tried to communicate that Steve should stay.

“Okay, okay, I'm here. Not going anywhere. Do you need anything? Water? Pain meds?”

Eddie could definitely use both of those things but the most pressing thing, the only thing he could really think of was…

Lifting his hand to point as steadily as he could at Steve's chest.

He chuckled. “Why do you keep trying to take my shirt?”

The question made little sense. For one thing, this was the first he remembered being coherent enough to demand anything, and second, Steve wasn't wearing a shirt, he was in a hospital gown, same as Eddie.

He shook his head as best he could, a frustrated frown and a grunt to indicate that wasn't what he meant at all.

Steve leaned closer. “What is it? I don't know what you need, Eddie.”

Now that he was closer, Eddie reached out as best he could and pressed his palm to the left side of Steve's chest.

They stared at each other. Eddie could feel the tears slipping down his face but he didn't dare move his hand to wipe them away.

Slowly, like he was scared, Steve's hand came up to press Eddie's hand closer. Big and warm and missed to the point of aching, though Eddie had been loath to admit it to himself.

“You’re serious?” Steve whispered. “You want...this?”

Eddie nodded frantically.

“If you mean my tit I'm going to be so pissed at you.”

Eddie choked on a laugh. He did his very best to mouth, “That too.”

That got him a laugh, a soft one. "Some things don't change." He looked away, shy. Or not shy exactly, cautious. "I hope you remember you said all this when you wake up again. You're pretty doped up."

That was an easy fix. The drugs probably made it easier to admit but he was tired of pretending it wasn't true.

He pulled Steve's hand until it settled over his own chest, stitches and all, and forced himself to croak, "I already tried to forget, sweetheart. It didn't work."

Steve's answering smile rivaled the dawn.

[valeriele3]

𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻-𝒜𝓌𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝓀𝒶𝒾 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇 𝑅𝒶𝒾𝓁

✎ Sorry for the somewhat rushed ending! ^^;

Messages.

Idle chats.

You were answering them like normal. Sometimes even giggling on the messages

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

You log in, check your messages, answer them if there's one, do daily tasks, and maybe farm, then log out. That was your daily routine in HSR.

However, you begin to notice how much more frequent the chats are. After assigning an assignment, you get a new message. 'Oh well. Free jades," you thought.

Every time you beat an enemy, boss, or do anything in the game, you will notice a new message.

'Maybe it was an update? Or a bug?' You brushed it all off and thought nothing of it.

You would answer all of them wholeheartedly; after all, you also noticed that if the character liked what you said, you'd receive more Stellar Jades.

You'd talk about it with your friends, but they'd respond with "I wish", "Oh shut up~ Don't make me hope", and "Hm? Is your game bugged?? Or is mine bugged? I don't get any of those benefits..So unfair."

You try to check the dev logs to see if there was an update regarding the messaging feature, but whenever you try to look at them, your computer freezes.

'No matter, I can just check using my phone.' No luck; it also freezes.

'Maybe my tablet?' Still the same.

Frustrated, you ask one of your friends to look into it. "There's no update or any fixes on it, Y/N. Maybe you should report it; your game might really be bugged."

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

Deciding to report it, you open up Bug Report, but then your screen freezes again.

It then opens up the messages, and you read the following words:

| Hey

| Please don't do it.

| It took such a long time to break the code, you know.

| Hey

| Are you still there?

| Oh

| Right

The messaging bubble pops up.

| You can type now.

"W-What.." You stare at your screen dumbfounded.

Reaching out to your keyboard, hoping it won't work and choices will pop up, you press a random key, and it works

Startled, you immediately plugged out the cables on your computer, causing it to shut down.

You grab your phone and start messaging one of your friends. Before you could hit send, the screen blackened, and then in the next second, it lit up with a notification.

"Hey, we were in the middle of a conversation."

"Why did you suddenly leave?"

Your hand trembles. 'Shit, how..How did it get to my phone too..'

"I know I like reading self-aware au's but I didn't want it to actually be true!" You scream, throwing your phone across the room.

You can hear it dinging with new message after new message.

You decide to leave your room for a bit to calm down.

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

"Ok..Be calm..I'm probably dreaming, right?"

"There's no way this kind of thing will actually happen in real life."

"I need to think about this rationally. I could try to get my phone and computer fixed..Maybe I accidentally got a bug."

"Oh, my tablet too..It probably has the same bug.."

"Then, uhm, should I tell them about this? No, maybe..Agh! This is so frustrating..!"

After going back and forth, you decided to sell your gadgets instead of trying to repair them. Buying new ones is much cheaper than trying to get them fixed.

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

The first month was alright. You also stopped playing HSR just in case something of the sort would happen again.

However, everything changed when you awoke to your notifications going off like crazy.

【Luka】

| Hey! Y/N, wanna come watch my tournament this week?

【Qingque】

| Y/N

| This is urgent. Come to Exalting Sanctum

| Watch me go against this pro. I'm sure with your attendance I'll easily win.

【Robin】

| Y/N, would you like to come watch my concert?

| Don't worry! I made sure that you'd get the best seat.

【Sunday】

| Y/N. Do me a favor and attend Robin's concert, will you?

| If you don't..

| Well, it'll certainly make her sad. As for me, it's best you don't know.

【Arlan】

| Hello, Y/N

| Would you like to accompany me with walking Peppy?

【Blade】

| Come.

【Bailu】

| Y/N!

| I have made a huge discovery!

| Meet me at Aurum Alley!

【M̵̛̼̘̭͎͓̘̘̽̎̃̊̄͋̈́̑̇i̵̡̨̡͎̖̮͉̺̣͂ͅs̴̰͂̉́̅͒̆̄́̄̋̚͜͠͠͝ͅȟ̵͉̹̖͍͎̱̭̳̰̘̀a̵̧̨͔̣̘̮̻̐̆̌̀͑̊̄̄͌͗̓̌͘̕̚】

| C̷̛͇̬̥̼̲̙̠͓̭̺̱̻̟͖̜̾͑͋͊́̀̕͝ä̷̡̨̨̨̡̤̫͔̼̗̫̪̟̰́̏́̾̄͘͝ͅn̸̡̪̱̻̜̻̺͊̍͒̂͗̀̍͐̔͆̆̎̚̕̕ ̷̛̻̟̀̇͐͋̋̌̂͒́͑̏͝y̴̮͆͒̈͒͑͋͆̒̂̓̕͘̚͝͝o̸̩̫̰̤͌̈͝ͅu̷̻̗͉̥̺͕͉͔̠̯͇̭̖̐͜ ̵͖̲̼̥͑͝ḣ̵̟͓̆͌̄̑̂̈́̓̚͘̕͝͝e̷͖̥̜̅͛̂̒͒̕͜a̶̧̫̹͉͆͑̊͊̊̐̐̂̈̉̾͜͝r̶͎̫͛̑͊͌͐̎ ̴̢̢̛͓͉̮͇̞̬̪͔͓̦̾̓̈́̀͐̀̂̀͒͝ͅm̴̤̙͎̽͋̽̇͛́͑͌̃͑̊e̷̦͚̔́̔̀̒͊͂̔̕̚͝.̵͎͓̪̥͍̍̓͂̾̌̂̌̚̚ͅ.̵̨̟͉͕͈̜͎̻̗͓̯̜̜̩̓̈́̓͊̆̓̑͐̈̐̄̀̕?̵̙̠͚̆͊͊̇͌

【Aventurine】

| Why're you ignoring my calls and texts?

| Is the money not enough for you?

【Pela】

| The Tale of the Winterlands original artbook sold out in 1 second again

| But

| I was fast enough to get you a copy too

| Don't worry. I'm messaging the right person this time

【Natasha】

| Y/N, did your cold get better?

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

You stare at your phone, frozen. Even as you were sitting there staring at it, the messages continued to flood nonstop.

It

Was

Nonstop

Even if it's on silent mode and DND, you can still hear it dinging.

At one point, the messages started appearing in all the social apps that you use.

Hell, it even started appearing in your smart fridge

You deleted and deactivated everything. Throwing away any and all sorts of electronics that could potentially be used for apps.

But you could still hear it.

Even the sound of the doorbell ringing, the kettle whistling, or your telephone ringing makes you panic. 'What if that's them?' You always think

Every creak, every shuffle, and every little sound makes you paranoid.

What if they cross over to Earth? What will you do? You can't run from them. Even if you do, they'll be able to find you easily.

[riot-ghost]

Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.

[azrielstaylorsversion]

Unspoken fights

Azriel x reader

Feyre wonders why Azriel and his mate aren't speaking to each other. Rhys explains about there unusual communication habits and she feels the need to fix it.

There were still two empty seats around the dinner table. Everyone had started eating already, not wanting to wait another half hour for Azriel and Y/N.

It didn't take much longer before they came walking in. Feyre quickly noticed them walking a few feet apart from each other. At least not as close as they usually were with each other.

Y/N walked in front of Azriel, her face showing no sign of emotion. She walked straight for Cassian's seat instead of the two empty ones on the other side of the table.

Azriel sighed softly and took a seat in one of the empty seats, immediately filling his plate with food. He didn't even acknowledge his family.

"Move." Y/N ordered Cassian, leaving no room for any argument. To Feyre's surprise, Cassian listened and moved over to the seat next to Azriel, leaving Y/N to sit next to Mor.

Cassian turned to face Azriel. His mouth opened to say something, but Azriel cut him off before he even got the chance to. "Don't even start." he said to his brother, not bothering to look at him.

Feyre watched the mated couple with concern. They never acted like this. At least not to her knowledge.

Feyre reached for Rhys mentally. 'What is going on with them?'

Rhys also watched the two and sighed, shaking his head. 'Probably a disagreement. This never lasts long. They will make up and talk about it tonight and tomorrow it is as it never happened.'

Y/N had now started eating as well, ignoring Cassians pointed look for claiming his seat. Azriel on the other hand had stopped eating and was just staring at the wall with a grumpy face.

'Does this happen often?' Feyre questioned.

'Not really. Maybe once a year.' Rhys answered. 'They have their disagreements and differences, but they always talk about it immediately. They never let it get as far as... whatever this is.'

After dinner everyone went their own way. Except for Y/N, who decided to stay in the dinning room even when Azriel had left.

Feyre had seen Azriel glance at his mate for a moment, hesitating to walk towards her before he continued to walk out.

It was well past midnight when Feyre decided to get something to drink from the kitchen. She noticed the lights in the dining hall still being turned on.

Feyre poked her head inside, finding Y/N still in the same place she had last seen her. She was staring at the wall in front of her, an empty glass of wine on the table.

"Y/N?" Feyre said softly.

She almost jumped from the sound of her voice. "Oh, Feyre. Sorry I didn't see you there."

Feyre stood in the doorway. "Are you okay?" she asked her friend.

Y/N stayed silent for a short moment, her face filling with emotion. "Yes. Everything is okay."

Feyre could tell that the answer wasn't true.

"I actually wondered if I could stay here for the night?" she asked.

The question shocked Feyre a bit. As far as she knew, Y/N had never voluntarily slept away from home. Away from her mate.

"Yes, of course. But are you sure you don't want to go home?" she still decided to ask.

Y/N stood from her seat, making her way towards the door Feyre was standing.

"I'm sure. If you don't mind, I'll be going to my old room." she said, giving Feyre a tight mouthed smile and walking past her.

She obviously meant her and Az's old room. She always called it that.

Feyre decided to leave it for the night and return to her own mate, who was waiting for her upstairs.

The next morning Y/N ate breakfast with her, Rhys and Nyx. Her mood was definitely off.

She normally wasn't much of a talker, but now she was just quiet. She also looked extremely tired, as if she hadn't slept at all last night.

'Shouldn't they be back to normal by now?' Feyre asked Rhys mentally.

'Honestly, the fact that she even chose to sleep here last night does worry me.' Rhys told me.

Feyre debated saying something about it, but Rhys warned her before she had the chance. 'They'll be back to normal by tonight.' Rhys told her promising, even when he didn't sound so sure herself.

Y/N had disappeared during the day. Probably off to her normal duties.

Feyre felt surprised when she entered the River House in the afternoon and found Y/N sitting in the living room, with no sign of Azriel.

She greeted Feyre with a soft smile before sitting down on a chair by the fire.

"So did you do anything fun today?" she suddenly asked.

"I took a walk with Nyx and helped Rhys with work. Nothing more." Feyre asked with a smile. "What about you?" she asked with hesitation.

Y/N sighed, staying silent after. Then she just shrugged. "Not really. I just feel.. I don't know."

Feyre suddenly understood why she started a conversation. Y/N wanted distraction.

"It's okay to miss him. Even it's been a day." Feyre decided to tell her. Y/N just avoided her eyes at that.

She stayed silent for a good ten seconds.

"It's just so stupid." she said.

"What is stupid?" Feyre questioned.

"This whole pointless fight. I mean I started it. I got mad about something that wasn't even his fault. And I just wanted to be right so bad." she started speaking quickly. "And I made him feel so bad and I didn't even mean it like that. I just felt jealous. And now I ruined everything and-"

"Calm down a second. You're just spitting out your words at this point." Feyre chuckled. "Why were you jealous?"

Y/N stared into the crackling fire, hiding her face from Feyre. "A Fae woman stopped Azriel on our way to dinner to ask him something. She touched his arm." she told me. "And he immediately pulled away. He was just being polite by answering her. But I still got so mad and it was just stupid."

Feyre did understand her jealousy. She had experienced it with Rhys countless of times before.

"Even after being mated for decades I still sometimes get periods where my instincts are worse than normal. Just before we entered the River House I decided to ignore him. And just to prove a point I stayed away from him last night. But now I feel so guilty. And he's probably mad at me at this point." she sounded disappointed with herself.

Feyre moved over to her friend. "Of course he's not mad at you." Feyre told her reassuring. "It's Azriel. He loves you too much to be mad at you over this."

Y/N slowly moved her eyes to look at Feyre. She nodded to herself. "Yes. Yes, I hope so." she said. "But I haven't acted this childish in years. So I can understand if he were mad at me."

"Trust me, I would've had the same reaction as you." Feyre told her with a small laugh. "Why don't we ask Azriel to come here so you can explain it to him? I'll be here if you need me."

She nodded. "Yes. That'll probably be a good idea." she answered. "I'll see if I can get to him through the bond."

It didn't take very long before the front door of the River House opened and closed. The sound of it was soft, like someone who usually came in with no sound.

Azriel definitely let his presence be known by his footsteps, which were heavier than usual.

When Azriel entered the room, Y/N immediately stood from her seat.

"Az, I'm sor-"

"I'm so s-"

They both cut each other off.

Y/N stared at Azriel. "What do you need to be sorry for? It was me who did it." she took a step closer to her mate.

"Yes, but I still have to apologize for even letting that woman get close to me, I shouldn't have."

"No, you don't need to apologize for being kind towards a woman. I could see you pull away. And she only placed a hand on you. I am the one who should be sorry."

Azriel went quiet for a few seconds. Y/N stared at him with emotion in her eyes.

Who knew that the two of them had arguments like this. I was just sitting in a chair, watching them.

"This is so stupid." Azriel said.

A small smile formed on Y/N lips. "It is." she told him. "But I understand if you're mad at me."

"Of course I'm not mad at you. I did the same thing at the start of our relationship, remember? And that was before we were even mated. So I understand." he told her. "Come here." he opened his arms for her to walk in to.

I could hear Y/N whisper some things to her mate, but I soon felt like I was invading their privacy.

Azriel noticed my awkward look and smiled. He placed a hand on the small of Y/N's back. "Let's go home." he told her softly.

She nodded and let him lead her out of the room.

She threw a quick look over her shoulder, mouthing thank you to Feyre.

[pineconepie]

I got many requests for this as soon as I released the Hugo writing, so consider this technically part 1 XD this shows your backstory with Hugo, and everything leading up to the first writing!

TW: Parental yandere, drugging without your knowledge, forced infantilization, mentioned murder, implied stalking

When you first started your job as a barista at the local cafe, you thought Hugo was nice. Funny, charming, charismatic... easygoing and someone who could be relied on to teach the ropes.

He had a lot of (endearingly) cheesy dad jokes prepared, got along with basically everyone, and was very open-minded in general. You felt like you could always go to him for things, judgment-free.

For a while, you felt lucky to have such a kind boss.

It started getting strange on your first month of working there.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" you gasp. Beneath your feet, were broken glass pieces of the once-whole coffee mug. Thankfully, there wasn't anyone in the shop but you and Hugo, for closing time. You drop to your knees to pick everything up, too frantic to recall safety protocols.

You slice yourself on one of the larger fragments.

"Ow..." you mumble.

"Hey, hey! Let me see." Before you realize it, Hugo is kneeling beside you and clasping your hand. The cut bleeds and drips from your fingertip. "Ah, yeah, that's pretty nasty. We better patch this up." He pulls you to your feet, guiding you to the break room. "We'll fix the glass in a second, 'kay? I don't want you freaking out over it. You know how many times I've broken plates or cups in this place?" He shows off a few small, but noticeable scars on his hands.

"Okay," you relent. "Sorry again, though..."

"I said not to worry about it!" Hugo sits you down. "Sit tight, I'll be right back." He heads towards the supply closet and digs through until he pulls out a first aid kit. "See? All will be well in no time."

While you aren't upset about breaking the glass, you are a bit embarrassed by him having to tend to your wound, despite the kindness behind the gesture. It's really jut a small cut, and even though there's a decent amount of blood and it's painful, it's not like you're in critical condition.

"This is nothing," you joke nervously.

"Any injury is still something," he counters. He patches it up, making an almost soothing shushing noise whenever you hiss or whine in pain. He finishes it off with a gray bandaid, with little cartoon characters from a show you remember from your childhood. He chuckles at your confused stare. "Out of normal bandaids. Hope that doesn't offend your 'big-kid' status."

He sounds like he's joking. Something you've noticed, is he usually is.

"So I won't need any amputations, doc?" you try to play along with him.

"No, but I prescribe lots and lots of rest, and no more being around glass cups for a few days," he says sagely. "Doctor's orders."

"Glad the prognosis is looking favorable."

"It sure is! Now go home, I'll take care of everything. See you tomorrow."

Sometimes he strikes you as a bit odd, but you don't really think much of the interaction.

...

Just a few weeks later, your friend, Weston, comes to visit. His dad is a friend of Hugo's, and they've known each other since grade school.

Something you've noticed, is whenever he comes to make conversation, or even just order something, Hugo is somewhat... passive-aggressive, towards him.

Kind, yes, but oddly curt, as well. The complete opposite to what he's like with most other people, especially you. It makes you wonder why the older man seems so snippy towards someone who hasn't caused problems at all.

You take your break, sitting across from Weston. "How's it going?"

Weston smiles. "Pretty well, I got a bonus off my paycheck, which was pretty awesome." He glances over at the counter, where Hugo is serving another customer, but keeps gazing your way. His eyes narrow whenever they fall onto Weston. "Isn't Hugo kind of... weird?"

"Weird?" you echo. "In what way?"

"I dunno..." His face scrunches up slightly. "He just doesn't like me. Before, he didn't really have an issue with me. Even gave me discounts on things. But then when I mentioned that you're fun to hang around, suddenly he's... just kind of an asshole. I swear he even overcharges me sometimes."

"I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding," you say, frowning. "Hugo likes everyone, I don't know why he wouldn't like you."

Weston snorts. "Yeah? What a saint, that guy." He rolls his eyes. "There's something off about him. That's just what my instincts are telling me. I don't know, maybe they're wrong."

"I'm sure they are. Are you sure it isn't because he's also super tall, covered in scars and tattoos, has big muscles and kind of a deep voice? Honestly, if he wasn't so sweet, he'd probably intimidate me," you laugh.

"I'm not old fashioned like that, it takes a lot more than that to intimidate me..." Weston crosses his arms over his chest. "Just keep an eye out for yourself, alright?"

"I'm sure there's nothing to keep an eye out on."

How ironic that turned out to be.

...

"(Y/n)," Hugo says one morning. You look up from where you're cleaning the tables. He smiles, but it looks a little forced, like he's trying to find his words carefully. "I think you should reconsider hanging out with that Weston kid. I know his father, and I know how much trouble he can be."

You try to hide your shock. "I've known him for a year, he's never been any trouble before."

"Yes, but this is different," he tries to reason. "I can't go into detail, but he's a much worse person than he lets on. You shouldn't hang out with him."

"Why not?" you counter defensively. "If I shouldn't hang out with my friend, I'd like to know why."

Hugo purses his lips, but decides against whatever he initially wanted to say. "Just trust me, okay? Please?"

You hesitate. You don't see why Weston is such a bad influence on you. You barely even see him outside work! Does he know something you don't? "Alright," you end up saying. "I'll try not to interact with him."

He breathes out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, bud." His hand reaches out and pats your head. "I know I may just be your boss, but you're still precious to me. I just want to protect you, okay?" It's supposed to reassure you. And for now, it does. You want to believe it.

"Thanks. I care about you too, Hugo."

As you say the words, however, you catch the split second where something flashes in his eyes. Something unreadable and indecipherable. But just as soon as it comes, it disappears without a trace. "After you're done wiping those tables, you can call it quits and head home for the day."

The moment passes, and you return to cleaning the table, forgetting the unease within moments.

...

It's been a full three months since you started working at the cafe, now.

Even though Hugo still acts a little protective (bordering on possessive) for a boss, you can tell how much he genuinely cares, and therefore overlook it.

You'd like to believe it's his way of showing he sees you like family. And in truth, the company is great. He cracks jokes constantly, can converse on just about any topic, and always has advice, somehow.

Today, however, you're struggling to keep up the charade. You ended up getting a cold, and feel so groggy you nearly overslept through the alarm.

Still, the last thing you'd want to do is burden others. So, you show up regardless of how crappy you feel physically.

"(Y/n)? Are you sick?" Hugo asks, stopping mid-pour to get a closer look at you.

You're wheezing and coughing so badly you can hardly breathe. Your skin feels hot, and sweat beads down your neck. "No," you argue half-heartedly. "I just feel under the weather." Your loses color when you try to suppress a much-needed cough, only to have it wrack your entire frame violently. "It's nothing contagious, don't worry."

He looks unamused, pausing his pouring to walk up to you, placing hand on your forehead. You hadn't realized how much your head throbs until now, but the pressure eases slightly with the contact.

Hugo sighs deeply, pulling his hand away. "Okay. You're going home."

"But—"

"Nah-uh-uh!" His finger boops your nose. "I'll call someone to take our shifts."

"Our?" you ask incredulously.

"Yes, ours, you muffinhead," he grins. "I gotta take care of my favorite employee, don't I?"

You blink. "I thought I was your only employee?"

"I have other employees, for your information!"

"I never see them..."

"Well, that's because—" He pauses. "Wait! No distracting me!" You giggle. He rolls his eyes in good nature, helping you pull on your coat. "Let's hurry before that fever of yours worsens."

And that's how you find yourself curled up on his couch, while he makes soup in the kitchen. His place is quaint, but nice. The walls are beige, with wooden floors, a fireplace crackling off to the side.

Everything here is tidy. Cozy. Reminds you a bit of his personality. A dog-eared book lays on his coffee table, along with a newspaper and some coasters.

Somehow, you feel at peace here.

The door opens, revealing the taller man carrying a tray with him. On it, there's a steaming bowl, and a cup of your favorite blend of tea.

"Ah, you're awake," he notes, sounding pleased. "I wanted to make you something nice and homemade, but I don't have ingredients for the few dishes I'm good at. So, this totally-not-canned-soup will have to do." He winks, placing it beside you, then places his hand against your cheek. "Wow... after this, maybe a lukewarm bath will do."

"What do I gotta do to convince you that I'm fine?" you wheeze out.

Hugo gives you a deadpan look. "I'm so sorry for assuming you're sick judging by the obvious fever, constant coughing, and the fact you look like a zombie straight out of The Walking Dead. My greatest apologies!"

You snort, playfully swatting at him. "Jerk."

"Hmmm..." His thumb strokes against your forehead. "Yes. I'm absolutely a jerk for wanting you to get better. Absolutely, I'm one hundred percent an awful, horrible jerk." He helps you sit upright. "Now, drink the broth of the soup, and I'll draw up the water." Without waiting, he heads towards the bathroom.

Your stomach rumbles, so you listen and begin to sip at the soup. For some canned soup, it tastes really delicious. Although, admittedly, you're so starved, anything would taste phenomenal.

Slowly, you chow down on the meal, which consists of vegetables and noodles, but you're still too nauseous to properly stomach it, so you opt for mostly sipping the broth.

Hugo returns to your already devoured-soup. "Good job, you finished it. I'm so proud."

At first you think he's teasing you again, but when you look at his face, he's actually genuine. Huh. Weird. "Thank you," you say slowly, still wrapping your head around it.

He helps you upstairs and leaves you to it once inside the bathroom.

When you finish, there's a pair of pastel green pajamas left for you, exactly your size.

It's a little weird that he'd have this on him, but you're too exhausted to question it now. Putting it on, you immediately enjoy how soft the material is.

"How are we feeling now, champ?" he asks when you enter the living room again. It seems like he's already cleaned your dishes up. Oh well. He sits on the sofa reading, but puts his book aside when he spots you.

"Much better," you admit. There's a beat of silence before you decide to add, "thank you, by the way."

Hugo's eyebrows raise slightly. "Aw... you're welcome. I'm glad to help. Your work uniform is in the washing machine, by the way. Since you wore it when sick, I thought it was a good idea to clean it." He pats the spot next to him.

"Why are you doing this? I know I said I'm not contagious earlier, but there's still a chance I could be." You awkwardly sit next to him.

"I have a pretty solid immune system, thankfully, so I highly doubt I'll get anything from you," Hugo reassures. His arm wraps around you snugly. "And besides, my heart just couldn't handle imagining you being alone at home. I'm just nice like that."

"Doubtful," you tease. "I'm pretty sure you just enjoy bossing me around outside of work."

"You're still on the clock technically, buttercup, so I think you shouldn't sass your employer like that," he muses, reaching over for the remote. "TV time now. How does Looney Tunes sound? I loved that stuff as a kid. Do kids still watch that?"

"How old do you think I am?"

Hugo pretends to think about it. "Six?"

You stare blankly at him. "Are we really gonna act like you don't know my exact age and birth date?"

"I'm kidding, obviously. Goofball." He squeezes you a bit, kissing the crown of your head. "Cartoons, yes or no? Because if no to cartoons, I'm just going to choose an animal documentary."

Well, it's not like you have to pay for any streaming subscriptions or anything here... might as well abuse it. "Cartoons are fine."

"Thought so."

By now, the medicine he gave you is kicking in. The effects of the fever and illness are making you sluggish and lethargic, but definitely less than before.

Somehow, Hugo picks up on it and adjusts himself so you're both cuddled up under blankets together. One episode goes by. Then two, then three.

And soon enough, you're asleep again.

...

Not long after, when you're feeling well again, work turns back to the way it was earlier. Hugo is somehow slightly more overbearing, but not necessarily in an obnoxious way. Still, it's definitely more noticeable compared to before.

Weston still stops by the cafe regularly, but you're slightly more curt to him. You're not sure if you even believe Hugo, but you like your job, and would like to keep it.

You still hang out with Weston outside of work, since Hugo wouldn't know, but somehow, the next morning when you show up at your job, Hugo is glaring daggers at you.

"What?"

The tall man leans against the counter, arms crossed. "Did you hang out with Weston again?"

You frown. "No... but even if I did, how would you know?" Maybe lying isn't your strong-suit, at least not with the look Hugo is giving you. You've never seen him look truly angry.

So angry that there's actual fear pooling in your gut.

Hugo runs a hand through his messy hair. "You just never know when to stop, do you? How many times have I asked you not to hang out with him?"

"Hugo, come on, you can't dictate who I hang out with. I can handle myself just fine. Now please, let me just do my job. People are staring."

"Keep up with this attitude, (Y/n), and we'll have problems."

"If you're going to fire me, might as well do so. I'm close to quitting myself." You don't actually mean those words, but the way Hugo stiffens up tells you that he believes them without a shred of doubt. Suddenly, all his anger evaporates, replaced by hurt. "I'm... sorry. I didn't mean that. Let's just... get back to work. I'll make the cake batter for tomorrow, okay?"

You've never been great at smoothing things over between others, nor resolving conflict, and you suppose this time is no different. While you feel somewhat bad, you also don't like him having complete control of who you associate with.

Hell, you're still wondering how he even knew about Weston; there's no possible way for him to know unless he's following you...

You shiver at the thought.

...

Slowly but surely, your life starts tumbling downhill, outside of Hugo being passive-aggressive on the occasion.

Your power keeps going out randomly, sometimes several times a day. You keep getting sick, sometimes what feels like a small cold, other times much more, to which Hugo is always insistent on taking care of you, just as he did a few weeks ago.

One day, however, when you arrive home, you walk inside to the sound of water overflowing onto your floor.

Then, come to find out, repairing it will cost a fortune, and that's on top of needing another place to crash. You tried asking Weston, but given how strict his parents are, who he is currently living with, that isn't an option.

Which means the only option is...

"(Y/n)? Hi, kiddo, what's going on?"

You suck in a breath. "Hi, Hugo, do you have a minute?" When he confirms, you continue. "This is embarrassing to say, but recently I've had some issues with my plumbing at home. If I give you money, can I temporarily crash with you? Just until it's fixed up?"

"Well, duh! You don't need to pay me anything. You know what? How about you pack your things? We can move it all in one trip using my truck. Then I'll set up everything else for you and order us dinner."

It's strange how willing he is to take care of you like this. But at this point, you have no options.

"That sounds fantastic, thank you."

"No problem. Anything for you." He hangs up.

You exhale after putting the phone down. Something about his tone of voice sounds almost smug, but you shake it off. Still, it doesn't explain why you can't shake off the sinking feeling growing inside you.

...

Hugo sets you up with your own guest room. "If you need anything, ask me," he says. "This can be a fun experience! Don't worry about your apartment. Once we get it all fixed, you'll be able to go back to living there! But, uh... no rush on moving out," he jokes.

Except it doesn't land as a joke. There's some serious intent behind that request. That pleads with you to stay forever. It chills you to the core. Hugo, oblivious to it, keeps speaking.

"—feel free to use my shower or anything. Any food I have, you can help yourself. Make yourself at home."

"Will do. Thanks, Hugo."

"Don't sweat it."

It's almost unnerving how happy he is to have you staying with him. It reminds you of how ecstatic he was about you staying over when you got sick. He seemed genuinely saddened by you leaving to return to your place.

If you were paranoid, you'd wonder if somehow, he orchestrated these things... but that'd be insane, right? There's no possible way that he would purposely sabotage your home in hopes you'd come live with him.

That's crazy. That would never happen. It couldn't possibly happen.

There's nothing to worry about. Or so you desperately hope.

...

You feel like you're going insane. At this point, it has been over a month since you've stayed with Hugo.

And yet, none of the plumbers Hugo suggests can seem to fix the issue. Each time, it results in some excuse about not having the proper materials, or being short-staffed, or simply ghosting you altogether. None of them can seem to pinpoint the root of the problem.

"Any luck?" Hugo asks when you put your phone away. He's in the kitchen cooking while you're relaxing on his couch, watching TV.

"No. Gosh, I'm sorry, it feels like I'm intruding forever," you apologize. "I'm tempted to just look for a new place, and cut my losses..." Admittedly, the longer you've stayed, the harder it's become to live here. It's gotten worse than it was at work. Constantly keeping tabs on you, controlling who you hang out with, when you go out...

It feels so claustrophobic, like you're trapped by him. At work you can clock out, but living with him... you're literally trapped at home.

"If you want..." Hugo sets down the spoon he was cooking with, walking over to you. "You could always stay here permanently."

You stare at him.

"It's... it's not a big deal," he assures. "Think about it. You pay rent for somewhere to stay, bills, etcetera, and it adds up fast. Here? I wouldn't charge you a single thing."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "As tempting as it is... I think I'll pass. I can take care of myself, I think it'd be a little weird..."

Hugo deflates slightly, but bounces back to his normal cheerful self. "Okay! Well, whatever you want, kiddo."

But something tells you it won't be that easy to escape from him.

...

After that conversation, the sickness starts again. Except, this time, Hugo acts far stranger.

At first it's nothing concerning; taking your temperature and bringing you medicine.

It's all standard stuff. But as time progresses, and the fever refuses to leave, he insists on hand-feeding you, which makes you extremely uncomfortable, especially since he treats it all like you're some toddler incapable of doing things themselves.

Then comes the clothes.

They're all pastel colors, mainly baby blue and beige. All covered in sheep and teddy bear patterns. He's decorated your "room" without asking for your input, and once again, it's all in childish patterns and designs.

Like something a five year old would prefer. You tried telling him as much, only for him to laugh it off and keep adding more of the things.

You try not to think about it too hard, chalking it up to him having poor taste or a lack of awareness, but there's an odd suspicion lurking in the back of your mind that something is seriously wrong here.

That thought stays with you, until the next day, when you wake up early. You trudge into the kitchen, to see him hunched over, back facing you, pulling something out of the cabinet and into one of the sippy cups he insists on giving to you ("you're sick, I don't want you spilling anything!").

Something is very, very wrong.

"Hugo?"

His shoulders stiffen. Then he slowly turns around to face you. He flashes a smile. "Hey, buddy, what are you doing up so early?" He discreetly pushes the cup behind him.

You walk closer. "What are you doing?" He moves his arm to block access behind him.

"What do you mean? It's early, kiddo, you might still have a bit of a fever." He tries to rest a palm against your forehead, but you jerk away.

"Don't," you snap. "I'm not a child. Why are you acting so strange?"

A flash of irritation crosses his face, gone in seconds. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm making your breakfast! Aren't you hungry?" Again, he reaches out towards you, and when you pull away again, the irritation returns.

"What did you put in there?" you demand. "Are you poisoning me?" As soon as you speak the question, you immediately feel guilty for it.

This is Hugo. Your boss, but someone who has protected you and kept you safe and content since you started working with him years ago. There's no way he'd poison you, right? He loves you.

He loves you so much, he wouldn't hurt you, right?

"You're sick, sweetheart, still delusional from the fever, maybe." He rests the back of his palm on your forehead this time, humming contemplatively. "I can get you some ibuprofen and a cool washcloth."

"I don't want anything from you!"

He drops all the niceties, snapping at you with a scowl on his face. "You will shut up, go back upstairs, and get your ungrateful butt back into bed."

You do so, only because his clenched fists are quivering at his side.

For hours, you can't sleep. Your mind is racing too quickly, anxiety prickling along every corner of your body. The thought that Hugo is drugging you — somehow — sends nauseous waves through you.

When you can't take it any longer, you grab your backpack. It's almost sunrise when you creep down the stairs, careful to miss the ones that creak.

It's stupid, but you need to confirm your earlier suspicions. You take a hesitant detour to the kitchen cabinets, the same ones he was pulling things from earlier this morning.

Flicking on the flashlight on your phone, you wince from the bright light in comparison to the dim room.

When your eyes adjust to the glare, you shift aside boxes and containers. You find nothing concerning, except...

Your breath hitches, pulling out a small orange bottle.

Acepromazine? You pocket it, intent to search it up later, but for now you just need to get out of here.

You expect him to stop you at any second, but by some miracle, you find the front door key where he always keeps it, and slip out the door.

Never have you felt eager to pay for a hotel room.

...

The next day, your phone blows up with texts and calls from Hugo. You ignore every last one of them. But guilt begins to worm its way into your gut as you listen to the voicemail messages left from him.

"(Y/n)... where did you go? Buddy, I don't know what I did to drive you away from me, but I can promise it will never happen again. Just tell me why you ran off like that, did I scare you?"

"Hey. (Y/n), call me back, okay?"

"I know you're mad at me... I'm so sorry for scaring you earlier. Please, please come back, okay?"

"Was it because I raised my voice? I know how sensitive you are... I really shouldn't have scared you like that..."

You know you need to go back to work, tell him you're quitting, and leave it at that. You want to just ignore him altogether, but the fear he might be able to take legal action against you looms over your head.

You thought the contract was stupid, saying you had to give a two weeks notice before quitting, but you thought he just did that for practical purposes.

Did he have this entire thing planned out?

No. Maybe you're jumping to conclusions. Still, that nagging doubt doesn't fade.

You haven't even looked up what the medicine is yet. Part of you is hopeful that maybe you were just making things up in your head, and perhaps they belonged to him, and just happened to be in there... people sometimes kept their medicine in the kitchen, right?

Yet you can't deny what you saw.

He even knows where you live. He knows you first and last name, and a bunch of personal information that he could definitely use against you.

...

You give it a week of no communication. He calls and texts you too many times to count daily.

Despite your instinct to avoid Hugo, the intense fear he inspires in you makes you drag yourself back to the coffee shop. It once had cozy, warm vibes, but now it's the equivalent of hell for you.

The jingle from the bell above the door catches Hugo's attention from where he's wiping the countertop. When he notices you, he brightens.

"(Y/n)! Where have you been?" The words tumble from him. He wraps you up in a tight hug, one that used to be comforting. You can't find yourself to reciprocate, not anymore. "I've been worried sick!"

You swallow down a snide comment. It would do nothing but escalate the tension that already hangs thick in the air. "Look, I—"

"I know, you're probably still upset about that morning, huh? No worries, I got so caught up in the heat of the moment. I can be an old dummy, can't I?" He's smiling, but you can tell he's on the verge of hysteria, trying so desperately to hide it behind his grins and friendly act. "Thank God you're okay. You're okay, right? No one hurt you?" He anxiously looks you over. "Let me get you something to drink! How does—"

"No!" you cry out. Thank goodness there's no customers right now. You clear your throat at his obvious worry. "I mean... no, thank you. I came to give this to you." You hand him a sheet of paper.

Hugo laughs, not taking it. "Why don't we sit down? Most employers wouldn't allow their employees to take a whole week off. Please, just—"

"Most employers also wouldn't try to drug their employee!" you cry. Your heart is thumping rapidly within your chest.

"(Y/n), don't raise your voice at me. Can we just talk about this? This was a big misunderstanding."

"No! I know what I saw! What was even your goal?! Were you trying to kill me?!"

He freezes, hand halfway from reaching toward you again. "Kill you?" He laughs humorlessly. "Oh, baby, no. Is that what you've been thinking? No... no, no..." He shakes his head. "No wonder you were terrified! You should have communicated that to me instead of hiding away all week..."

The pet name causes your skin to crawl. "What else could you be drugging me for, then?" you whisper hoarsely. Tears are pricking the corners of your eyes.

"(Y/n), honey, please don't cry. I swear it was not my intention to hurt you," Hugo coaxes. "Just to help you."

"Is that so?" You pull out the bottle of pills. He tries to grab them from you, but you take a step back and pull out your phone, searching it in. Your worst fears are realized when the page loads and shows what it actually is. "This is for animals... you have no pets, so you can't even lie your way out of this!"

A flash of fury burns in his eyes. His shoulders square up, and he narrows his eyes. "Okay, yes. Yes. You got me there. But it's not what it looks like, I promise."

"You were dosing me! Why? Why would you do that to someone? You're sick. You need help!" you scream at him. Hot tears sting your cheeks now. This is worse than you ever imagined. "It's an animal tranquilizer! No amount of explaining could do this! Screw my two weeks notice, I don't care anymore!"

"Don't walk out this door!" Hugo shouts. "You just cannot accept the fact someone loves you, can you?! I am so sick of this back and forth, this tug-of-war you keep dragging us through. I only want what's best for you, I have given you so much, and you repay me by running away, shutting me out, screaming at me! And after all my efforts... I'd even resorted to drugging you just to spend more time with you!"

"Oh, wow, what a sweet thing of you to do!" you say sarcastically. You turn your back to him and open the door. His hand slams the door closed. "I will call the police on you if you don't move."

Hugo grits his teeth, frown deepening. He releases his grip on the door handle, and steps away.

For a moment, you hesitate. The way he's staring at you fills you with a deep sense of dread. Like maybe you're making a horrible mistake. He took you in, gave you a home to stay in when you had nowhere to go. Gave you money and necessities. Protected you from harm.

You shake away those thoughts and open the door. Before you even step one foot out, you feel something sharp plunge into your neck. Gasping, you stagger backwards, almost falling to the ground, if not for Hugo.

"I had a feeling you'd show back up," Hugo mutters. He wipes hair away from your sweaty forehead, shushing you gently as you start to panic. "No need to be scared, kiddo."

"Wh...What...?" You try to focus on his face, but your vision starts to swim in and out. Your eyelids feel heavy.

"There we go, nice and easy..." His hand cups your cheek. "You're going to feel a bit sleepy, okay?" He takes a moment to put the cap back on the needle, then pockets it, along with the syringe. He coos at your eyes fluttering shut. "I know. It's scary, but I'd never hurt you. You're just confused." He hoists you up with a grunt, carrying you outside.

"Why...?" Your throat feels dry and raw. Sleep has almost taken over.

"I love you. I love you so, so much, but sometimes you can't let people take care of you. Let people protect you." He helps you in the backseat, pausing to smile at you, pushing some bangs away from your sweaty forehead. "I know you act like you hate me, but surely deep down, you realize you need me. Why else would you willingly come back?"

"It wasn't like... that..."

"Shhhh... enough. Close your eyes now. I'll wake you up when you're safe and sound back home..."

...

When you wake up, you're still in the car, but pulled up to his house. Panic sets in, making you tug on the straps of the seatbelt, trying to undo the buckle.

"Whoa! Hold on, bud, what are you doing?" Hugo turns around in his seat, expression stricken with surprise. "You weren't supposed to wake up yet. Damnit." He tries to grab something out of his pocket, but you manage to unbuckle yourself from the seat, scrambling to the other side of the vehicle, away from him.

You reach out to the opposite door and unlock it.

Right before you can swing it open, however, it suddenly clicks and refuses to open. Child safety lock. "No... no..."

Hugo sighs and shakes his head. "You're really stressing your Papa out, you know that?" He doesn't wait for an answer as he gets out of the car and walks around to your side, opening it up. He reaches in towards you, but you flail backwards. "Easy, easy... you'll hurt yourself moving around like that. Please, listen to me."

"Why are you doing this?!" you cry. Your fingers clutch at the cushions desperately. "P...Please, Hugo, let me go... we can forget about all this and pretend like nothing happened. Please..." Sobs shake your body, and you curl into yourself pathetically. "I want to go home!"

"We are home, honey. And even then, I wanted to do this the normal way. But you didn't want that," he soothes.

"Drugging me is not the normal way!" you snap, your fear turning into fury.

He sighs, this time not bothering to reply. You scream in shock when he tries lunging for you, a new needle prepared, but you manage to slip out from the other side, ignoring the way you collapse upon landing. It doesn't matter. Getting away from Hugo does.

You scramble to your feet and begin booking it. Behind you, you can hear him calling after you.

He doesn't live close to any civilization, but you still hope that maybe someone, anyone, will come to your aid.

"Help!" you cry. Your vision swims. Everything hurts. You push through, knowing stopping means you'll be doomed forever. "Please help!"

A few more seconds of running makes you nearly faint, leaning against a tree. The bark cuts into your palms painfully. Your stomach is doing flips inside of you, twisting into painful knots.

"(Y/n)! Get back here this instant!" Hugo yells.

You force yourself to keep going. Everything seems like its closing in around you. Each inhale makes your lungs burn with effort. Where are you going?

Does it really matter? Nothing matters besides escaping this madman.

You run out onto a dirt road, not paying attention to your surroundings, not until the loud noise of an engine makes you look up.

The last thing you see is the glimpse of headlights before everything goes black.

[dxrlingluv]

Ok another, this time quicker, idea! How about the brothers, Hades, Poseidon and Zeus(separately) headcanons or blurbs or whatever you feel like with a modern day human SO/reader. I'd love sassy reader who didn't think they were real and makes that point VERY clear but you can decide personality! -♒

Belive me, Belive me not

A/N : The Big Three is here! Zeus and Posiedon art is from Neil_illustrator.

WARNING : GN!Modern!Reader, Fem!Modern!Reader on Zeus part(but no gender was mentioned, the reader just had to wear a dress).

Word Count : 2.7k

Hades

The first time he told you he was Hades, Lord of the Underworld, you snorted so hard your artisanal coffee almost made a reappearance. You were sitting in your favourite, slightly pretentious café, the one with exposed brick and Edison bulbs, and he'd just dropped that bombshell like he was announcing the weather.

"Right," you'd said, wiping a stray drop of latte from your lip. "And I'm Tinkerbell, currently moonlighting as a barista. Did you get that off a 'Most Brooding Fictional Characters' list, or was it a dream you had after too much pizza?"

He'd just blinked, those unnervingly dark eyes fixed on you. His name, as far as you were concerned, was 'Hal' – a surprisingly normal name for someone who dressed exclusively in bespoke, dark clothing that probably cost more than your yearly rent and had an aura of perpetual, stoic gloom. You'd met him at a gallery opening (you were there for the free wine, he was... well, you weren't sure what he was doing there, probably judging the canapés).

"It is not a jest," Hal—no, Hades—had rumbled, his voice a low thrum that vibrated through the reclaimed wood of the table. "I am Hades, Ruler of the Asphodel Meadows, the Elysian Fields, and Tartarus. King of the Dead."

You'd leaned forward, a smirk playing on your lips. "Okay, 'Hal'. Look, I appreciate the commitment to the bit, really. It's very method. Are you an actor? Is this for a role? Because if so, kudos, you've got the 'tortured ancient deity' vibe down pat. But you're buying the next round of overpriced caffeine, because my disbelief is making me thirsty."

He sighed, a sound like wind whistling through a cavern. It was surprisingly endearing. "Why is it so difficult for you mortals to accept what is plainly before you?"

"Probably because 'plainly before us' is usually a guy named Kevin who forgot to take out the bins, not the literal Greek god of the underworld," you retorted, taking a pointed sip of your coffee. "And for the record, if you were Hades, wouldn't you be, I don't know, a bit more... skeletal? Or on fire? Or at least have a three-headed dog cramping your style at brunch?"

He actually looked thoughtful for a moment. "Cerberus is not fond of brunch establishments. Too many small, yapping dogs and not enough souls to... well, never mind. And the corporeal form I choose to adopt is my own business."

"Riiight. Your 'corporeal form'," you echoed, tapping your fingers on the table. "Look, Hal, it's cute. Mysterious, broody, with a flair for the dramatic. I like it. But the whole 'god of the dead' thing? I'm gonna need to see some serious, undeniable, world-shattering proof before I even begin to entertain that notion. And I mean serious. Like, make it rain frogs, turn my ex into a newt, or at the very least, get the barista to spell my name right on the cup for once. That would be a miracle."

Hades—or Hal, as you were determined to keep calling him in your head—actually managed a small, almost imperceptible smile. It was like watching a glacier crack. "Your skepticism is... persistent."

"I prefer the term 'aggressively rational'," you corrected. "Now, about that proof? Or are we just going to sit here while you try to convince me you vacation in Tartarus?"

He leaned back, a certain ancient weariness settling in his gaze, but there was something else too – a flicker of amusement, maybe even intrigue. "Perhaps, for now, you can simply entertain the possibility."

"Oh, I'm entertained, alright," you said, a grin spreading across your face. "This is the most interesting Tuesday I've had in ages. But just so we're clear, this whole 'Lord of the Underworld' claim? That's a hill I am perfectly prepared to die on. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Unless you're going to smite me for my insolence, O Mighty Hal."

He didn't smite you. He did, however, somehow manage to get the barista to not only spell your name correctly on your next coffee but also add a perfectly drawn, tiny crown above it.

You stared at the cup, then at him. He just raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"Okay," you conceded, narrowing your eyes. "That's... weirdly impressive. But I'm still calling you Hal."

He inclined his head. "As you wish. For now."

And as you walked out of the café, you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, your aggressively rational world had just gotten a whole lot more interesting. And that Hal, or whatever his actual, ridiculously mythological name was, was a surprisingly good sport about your absolute refusal to believe he was anything more than a very handsome, very strange man with a penchant for dramatic declarations. The hill of your disbelief was still standing firm, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was bringing some very persuasive, very ancient siege equipment.

Poseidon

You figured "Perry" was just really, really into surfing. And fishing. And boats. And honestly, anything remotely related to the ocean. You'd met him during that beach clean-up you'd reluctantly signed up for. He'd been surprisingly enthusiastic about hauling plastic bottles, his sun-kissed skin and sea-green eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled, which was often. He had this wild, windswept look about him, like he'd just wrestled a kraken and won.

The "revelation" came a few weeks later, after a particularly spectacular surfing session you'd watched him dominate from the shore. He'd strode out of the waves, surfboard tucked under his arm, water sluicing off him like he was personally sponsored by the ocean itself.

"You know," he'd said, shaking his long, perpetually damp hair like a cheerful golden retriever, his voice booming over the crash of the waves, "this mortal form is quite enjoyable for catching a good swell. Though, commanding the waves directly does have its perks."

You'd raised an eyebrow, handing him a towel. "Mortal form? Commanding the waves? Perry, did you swallow a bit too much saltwater out there, or are you trying out material for a stand-up comedy routine? 'Local Surfer Dude Thinks He's Aquaman' – it's got potential."

He laughed, a hearty sound like waves breaking on a shore. "Aquaman? A charming, if somewhat limited, interpretation. I am Poseidon, Shaker of the Earth, Ruler of the Seas, Stormbringer!" He punctuated this with a grin so wide it could have swallowed a small fish.

You patted his arm. "That's nice, dear. And I'm the Ruler of England, just popping down to the coast for a bit of incognito wave-watching. Seriously, Perry, lay off the sun for a bit, it's clearly getting to you."

"It is no jest!" he boomed, though his eyes were sparkling with amusement rather than divine wrath. "The very tides answer to my call! The creatures of the deep are my subjects!"

"Okay, okay, 'Lord of the Atlantis Fan Club'," you said, starting to walk back towards the beach café. "If you're really Poseidon, prove it. Make that seagull trying to steal my fries burst into a rousing sea shanty. Or, better yet, part the sea so I don't have to get my ankles wet walking back. My pedicure was expensive."

Perry—no, Poseidon, apparently—stroked his stubbled chin, looking thoughtfully at the offending seagull, then at the stretch of water between you and the boardwalk. "A sea shanty might be beyond its vocal capabilities, and parting the sea for such a short distance feels a tad... dramatic, even for me. But perhaps a small demonstration?"

Before you could quip back, the moderately sized wave that was about to splash your sandals suddenly, and very deliberately, split in two, flowing neatly around your feet and leaving a perfectly dry path of sand for about ten feet in front of you. Then it reformed as if nothing had happened. The seagull, however, just squawked indignantly and flew off with a stolen chip.

You stopped dead. You blinked. You looked at your dry feet. You looked at the now perfectly normal looking sea. You looked at Perry, who was beaming at you, dripping seawater and radiating an aura of smug, god-like satisfaction.

"Huh," you managed. "Well, that's... a neat trick. Very sophisticated sprinkler system you've got rigged up there, Perry. Or did you bribe the ocean?"

He threw his head back and roared with laughter. "Bribe the ocean! I am the ocean, my sweet! Your refusal to believe is almost as vast and deep as my domain!"

"It's called healthy skepticism, buddy," you retorted, though your mind was doing frantic mental gymnastics trying to explain the suddenly very polite wave. "And until I see you summon a kraken to fetch me a towel or something equally irrefutable, you're still Perry, the charmingly eccentric surf instructor who might be having a mild heatstroke."

He slung an arm around your shoulders, his touch surprisingly warm and solid for someone who claimed to be an ancient deity made of seawater and divine power. "A kraken for a towel? My dear, you have a wonderfully practical imagination! Perhaps I shall consider it. But for now, how about I treat the Ruler of England to some fish and chips? My treat. I know the owner – he owes me a favor from that incident with the rogue tidal wave last spring."

You sighed, but a smile tugged at your lips. "Fine. But if a single tentacle comes near my fries, Perry, so help me, I'm reporting you to... well, I'm not sure who you'd report a misbehaving sea god to, but I'll find someone."

He just grinned, his sea-green eyes full of mischief and something ancient and powerful. "I look forward to the challenge."

Walking beside him, with the scent of salt and sunshine clinging to him, you had to admit, your healthy skepticism was facing a tidal wave of its own. And Perry, or Poseidon, or whoever the heck he was, seemed perfectly happy to just ride it out with you.

Zeus

You first encountered "Zane" at a ridiculously high-powered charity gala you'd only managed to snag a ticket to because your boss was unexpectedly ill, and you were the only one who could fit into her spare gown. Zane, with his impeccably tailored suit that probably cost more than your car, an air of effortless command, and eyes that seemed to crackle with an internal thunderstorm, was holding court amongst a gaggle of fawning socialites and business tycoons.

He'd broken away from his admirers, much to their collective pout, and approached you while you were trying to discreetly unhook your heel from a particularly vicious bit of rug fringe.

"Allow me," he'd said, his voice a resonant baritone that seemed to expect instant obedience. He'd knelt and freed your shoe with a surprisingly gentle touch.

"Thanks," you'd managed, flustered. "This rug is clearly a menace to society."

He'd smiled, a flash of brilliance like lightning on a summer night. "Some things are simply beneath our notice until they trip us up. I am Zane Olympus. And you are?"

"Permanently indebted to your shoe-rescuing skills," you'd replied. "And currently employed by someone who can afford these shindigs."

Your conversations over the next few weeks were... intense. Zane was charismatic, intelligent, and had an opinion on everything, delivered as if it were divine decree. The "big reveal" happened during a particularly heated debate about a new city ordinance while you were in your car when in a sudden, a violent thunderstorm emerged. Rain lashed against the windows, thunder boomed overhead, and the lights of the city flickered.

"This weather is certainly dramatic," you'd commented, peering out at the deluge.

Zane had looked out too, a strange, almost proprietary expression on his face. "It often reflects my moods. I find a good thunderstorm rather invigorating, don't you?" Then, with a casualness that was utterly jarring, he added, "It comes with the territory when one is Zeus, King of the Gods, Ruler of Olympus, God of Sky and Thunder."

You stared at him. The car lurched. A particularly loud clap of thunder rattled the windows, perfectly timed.

"I'm sorry," you said, slowly. "I think the thunder might have made me mishear you. Did you just say you're... Zeus? Like, golden-throne, eagle-on-his-arm, serial-swan-impersonator Zeus?"

He actually looked pleased. "The very same! Though the swan episode is rather overblown by poets, I assure you. Creative license, you understand."

You let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, I understand alright. Zane, you had me going there for a second. That's quite the character you've built. Are you workshopping a new persona for a self-help guru empire? 'Unleash Your Inner Sky God: Command Your Life with a Thunderous Attitude!' I can see the bestseller now."

His smile tightened almost imperceptibly. "This is not a persona, my dear. It is my very essence." As if to punctuate his sentence, a jagged fork of lightning illuminated the street, striking a lamppost a little too close for comfort, causing it to fizzle and die. The cab driver muttered something in another language and crossed himself.

"Okay, impressive timing with the special effects," you conceded, though your heart was doing a little tap dance against your ribs. "You got connections at the weather bureau? Or just a really good app? Because that was artistic."

"The elements are somewhat... responsive to my will," Zane—Zeus—said, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and a hint of impatience. "Must I call down a personal lightning bolt to strike your skepticism?"

"Whoa there, sparky!" you said, holding up your hands. "Let's not get carried away with the pyrotechnics. Look, Zane, it's a great story. Really. Top-tier commitment. But you're a charming, if slightly egomaniacal, businessman who throws a mean fundraiser. You're not the dude who overthrew the Titans. Unless those Titans were, like, rival hedge fund managers." You paused. "And if you are Zeus, shouldn't you be a bit more... I don't know, toga-clad and surrounded by adoring nymphs, not stuck in Midtown traffic?"

He sighed, a sound like wind rushing through mountain peaks. "Mortals and your demand for outdated aesthetics. One adapts. As for adoring nymphs, quality has rather declined over the millennia. And one can only tolerate so much ambrosia before craving a decent mortal espresso."

"Right. Espresso cravings, the true mark of a deity," you deadpanned. "So, if you're Zeus, Mr. King-of-Everything, what's your next trick? Going to turn this car into a golden chariot? Because honestly, this traffic is a nightmare, and I wouldn't say no to an upgrade."

Zane—Zeus—actually looked consideringly at the worn upholstery of the cab. "A chariot might be a trifle conspicuous. But perhaps..." He glanced at you, a challenge in his electric blue eyes. "Tell me, what would it take to make you believe, even a little?"

You leaned back, a smirk playing on your lips. His sheer, unwavering arrogance was almost captivating, in a terrifying sort of way. "Honestly? At this point, you could probably make it snow in July and I'd still assume you'd just hired a really good effects team. You've got that 'man who can buy anything' vibe. But hey, impress me. The sky's the limit, right? Or, in your alleged case, your personal playground."

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through the cab, and for a moment, you could almost believe the city lights outside dimmed and then flared brighter in response. "Your audacity is... refreshing. Most are too quick to cower or believe. You, however, wish for a command performance." He tapped a finger against his lips. "Very well. Consider the challenge accepted. But do be careful what you wish for when dealing with the King of the Gods. We have a rather dramatic flair for granting requests."

The car pulled up to your apartment. As you stepped out, the rain suddenly, inexplicably, stopped in a perfect circle right above you, while it continued to pour down just a few feet away. You looked up, bewildered, then back at Zane, who simply inclined his head with a regal, knowing smile before the he drove away.

"Okay," you muttered to the abruptly dry patch of sidewalk. "That was... weird." The hill of your disbelief was still very much intact, but you had a feeling Zane, or Zeus, or whatever he was, had just lobbed a fairly significant thunderbolt at its foundations. And you weren't entirely sure you didn't want to see what he'd throw next.

[igotanidea]

The talk : Dick Grayson X reader ( with Bruce Wayne)

A/n : it's a snippet, I might consider writing it fully

Warning: suggestive but not explicit

Summary: it's time for the bees and bird talk with Dick

***

Bruce walking in on a young adult! Dick and his girlfriend y/n getting cosy between the sheets.

Obviously, as a normally functioning adult and a father, even if just a foster one, the batman takes it upon himself to have a talk about bees and birds with his favourite son.

He got it all planned out, schemed, thought out to avoid surprises and misunderstandings.

He actually had the contingency plans from A to Z drafted for a while, only hoping that those would never come to use.

Unfortunately, seeing y/n, with her blouse undone, hair a mess and Dick's hands (and apparently more) on her, forces Bruce to retreat to hide the blush creeping on. The last piece of his dignity is gone and he is pretty sure there's no good way to recover from such a failure.

He had reached the ultimate botttom.

"Hey B, you good?" Hours later Dick found him in the batcave, engrossed in some feigned, quickly fixed work. It was too easy to figure he would hide there to avoid seeing or - god forbid - hear anything.

"Hm."

"You wanted to talk to me about something, didn't you?" He grinned, delighting in a way Bruce seemed to develop an eye twich.

"Hm".

"Great. I got some time before I get back to y/n, so?"

"Get back?" Bruce turned to face his son and immediately regretted it. He seriously wished to erase the sight of lipstick and love bites on his neck.

"Something wrong?" Once more dick flashed a smile, trying to force a reaction out of Bruce.

"hm."

"we're being safe"

"Amazing"

"and she's okay with it"

"Great"

"And I've studied female anatomy so I know a thing or two about --"

Oh dear lord...

"Dick." Bruce was an inch from having a spasm. How ironic it would turn out to be if gotham lost its protector because of certain golden boy growing up.

"hey did you know that --"

"Get out, Dick."

"But I thought you wanted to--"

"I said get out"

"-talk?"

"I believe you got it all wrong. It was Alfred. Yes. Alfred wanted to talk to you. Not me."

"You sure about it B? You want me to talk to Alfred about -"

"yes. Absolutely. Now go. I'm sure time is of essence"

"it is. Though Alfred took some time off, thanks to your generosity, Bruce. So I'll go, sure, but I've already got so many questions that I don't want to search online and--"

"Dick?" Y/n voice sounded dangerously close to the batcave entrance "Where are you? I'm gonna have to go soon and I need a proper goodbye --"

"coming!!!" Dick yelled rushing off the room " great talk, Bruce. We'll continue it later."

Dick left and Bruce was finally able to let out a groan. The masterplanner forgot to acknowledge the fact that sweet kids tend to turn into feral, hormonal young adults and require actual upbringing.

***

"you're so mean to him, you know that?" Y/m muttered, once again with his lips on hers

"mean? Who, me? Ouch! You're hurting my heart here princess."

"you are. He could easily be a DILF, yet is alone and you're tormenting him."

"but if you saw the look on his face --"

"you're only proving my point of you being mean".

"I'm sure he'll get some, some day--"

"but still- mmm!"

"I remind you that you enabled the plan baby.... Played quite an important part in it." Dick started kissing her a little harder, not even trying to hide where he was heading. "Wonder why that is..."

"cause you're also a -- ohh!"

"you were saying?" He smirked, looking up at her.

"-prick"

"Am I?" His hands moved where she liked it "what else?"

"liar..." She gasped. While it was true he didn't tell her why he invited her over and that his father was in, his movements were serving as a pretty good apology.

Even if knowing Dick it was obviously also a way to boost his ego and prove his point and complete his twisted and deranged plan.

"you know what, I've already had one talk, I don't really need another.... Rather keep my lips occupied with something else --"

***

Bruce came out of the batcave only after making sure it was safe.

Mentally cursing himself for having not one, but four boys under his care.

Which meant that this - whatever it was-- was about to happen again.

[squishytenya]

Hey Do you remeber your Tenya and Aizawa ask, with y/n Crying? What about some of the other casts like Katsuki or Ejiro?

if you dont mind please and thank you

They Make You Cry Headcanons

I lowkey had to search my own blog for this but I found it! thanks for the request <3

Pairings - Bakugou x gn!reader, Kirishima x gn!reader + Kaminari x gn!reader

Warnings - arguments, cursing, crying

Katsuki Bakugou

▹part of being in a relationship with Katsuki is dealing with his harsh personality. Even if he does calm down the older he gets, it's still probably not to the same extent of a normal human being.

▹he probably would be completely speechless the moment you started crying after an argument - straight up would not know how to respond to that.

▹his eyes would go wide and he would go to take a step towards you and then bring himself back, holding his arm to himself.

▹"hey... don't do that"

▹for all his faults Katsuki is, deep inside, a good person and he knows this is the kind of shit you lose relationships from and he really really doesn't want to lose you.

▹ but he does know he can be a bit much and he probably takes a while to come down from whatever he's feeling so he just kinda leaves for a few minutes

▹ he comes back with a cup of tea and perches gently on the bed next to you, avoiding eye contact

▹he would do his best to spit out an apology, but it's not something that would come naturally to him. Seeing your face crumple like it did is still replaying in his mind and he knows he has to fix this somehow - so he does his best to explain himself

▹eventually he would just stop rambling and take your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

▹"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that to you"

▹ he'd just sit by you, hand in his until you were ready to talk to him and talk over what had led to the argument in the first place and he really does take your words to heart about what upset you

▹he'd try to cut down on raising his voice and try to cut out teasing nicknames entirely, unless he knew you were okay with them already

▹a sweet guy really

Eijirou Kirishima

▹I cannot see Kiri upsetting you on purpose, even during an argument he isn't the type to yell or get super angry with you

▹him making you cry is most likely a complete accident on his part, or even him accidentally playing into an insecurity you have without properly thinking about it

▹when your relationship first started out, I think he probably didn't understand you might not be comfortable with the things he's comfortable with, especially during social situations

▹ also probably doesn't understand others might read his kindness as flirting, so when you two are invited to a hero party to socialise and he pretty much ignored you the whole night, he had no idea why you began tearing up on the way home

▹obviously, he's worried about why you're crying and what he did! and how he can fix it is at the forefront of his mind almost immediately after noticing

▹and when you explain it to him, he pretty much crumbles straight away - he is in disbelief that he made you feel that way

▹he falls over himself explaining that he didn't mean to make you feel that way, he was just overwhelmed by the pressure of hero society and got caught up

▹Kiri is very good at admitting when he is wrong, and puts a lot of effort into having healthy communication in his relationships - platonic or otherwise

▹pulls over the car literally just so he can hold both of your hands in his and make eye contact as he explains his actions, specifically so you understand he's being genuine

▹"I'd never do that to you on purpose, you're the most important person to me"

▹after your sniffles have subsided, he pulls you into a hug and promises never to do something like that again - and you bet he keeps his promise!!!

▹takes you to get food too, just as an extra apology and you sit in the car park eating ice cream together - he makes sure you're the center of his attention the entire time <3

Denki Kaminari

▹oh he's so stupid. he's so lovely, but so, so stupid.

▹honestly he probably says something insanely embarrassing in front of your friends and pays no attention to how that might make you feel, especially if you're close to these people

▹doesn't even notice when the room goes completely silent and nobody is talking but him, it takes one of his friends clearing their throat for him to notice your eyes filling with tears

▹in his defense, he does try to explain himself straight away and takes you into another room to have the conversation (at the very least) but it takes a little bit more explaining to him why his actions would upset you

▹doesn't really get it at first but you explaining, and your face as you cry, makes his heart hurt and he tries to rectify his actions as soon as he can

▹the first thing he thinks to do in that moment is bundle you up in his arms and rock the both of you back and forth to calm you down, which works a little more than you'd like to admit

▹runs his hands over your back, up and down, until your breathing evens out - does not give a shit about anyone outside of you two in that moment

▹once you've stopped crying, full on apology - hands and knees!

▹he seems genuinely heartbroken to have embarrassed you and takes full responsibility for what he did

▹ kicks everyone else out of the house and spends the rest of the evening making it up to you and reminding you of how important you are to him and just how sorry he is

I hope these were good! I haven't written in ages so this'll be the first comeback headcanons, hope you guys enjoyed it <3

[bobur-the-berry-guy]

I'm writing abt all of them, might be a bit slow but let me cook🔥

Eugene relationship hcs!

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆.˚✮•🍰•✮˚.⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Ok first of all

How did you bag him?? Like let me shake your hand??? Share your secret please???

You won at life. Congrats

My gorgeous wildcard of a man i love him

Ok so for pre-relationship.. i don't think he's that obvious

Like, sure, you could catch onto it at some point but for the most part he's actually subtle enough about it for it to fly over ur head, especially if you're dense

He's the most normal out of the club anyway, so you don't have to be too confused

He would be helpful, but you could always think he's like that just because you're friends

But would he really go so much out of his way to help for stuff like that?

Think staying up well after the time he normally goes to sleep just to help you understand a lesson or tutoring you for things you could probably learn yourself

He's explaining the subject well too - he wants to make sure you understand everything well and actually remember what he's explaining

And he's so patient about it too

He also strikes me as the type to be a bit flirty sometimes

Like look at him with his whole "adults will appreciate you trying so use it against them" thing and tell me he won't give blatant hints in such a way you won't be able to decide if he's being for real or he's just joking

And i don't mean only verbally

He'd hold your hand to not lose you in the horrid school corridor crowd and just forget to let go

Or when he's explaining a question from your homework he'd be just close enough for you guys to touch lightly but he's pretending to not notice so you don't say anything about it either

I saw someone mention so smth about him and dating rumors.. purposefully not correcting people about them

And whoever said that is SO on point

Someone could ask you guys if you're dating and he'd just smile at them like he's an angel

He's not an angel.

Internally he's giggling like the chibi pic i put in the middle of his banner

Anyway back on track

On the being helpful note i think it would extend to everything but he wouldn't really overdo it

Let me explain

He really wants to help you out whenever he can, and why wouldn't he?

Be it schoolwork, new hobbies, anything he can help with he will do his best

That doesn't mean he's going to do it for you - absolutely the opposite

He wants to see you grow and become even better at whatever the thing is, and that won't happen if he does the work instead of you

Also even if he can't really help you best believe he's gonna be there - quality time baby!

He's gonna hang around you, do something parallel to you or chat with you!

But then again.. i don't think there's many things he can't help you with

He is a prodigy for a reason and best believe he's gonna show that off

He won't be cocky but if he can do all that why wouldn't he show you and miss the chance to make himself look even better in your eyes?

And when he finally has you everyone and their mom will know

Not because he's telling everyone but it's gonna show because he's absolutely not hiding just how happy he is to have you

Now if someone decides they're gonna try their nonexistent chance with you that's when he's really making a show of it

He may not seem like it but he's lowk possesive ngl

Not like,, crazy or toxic possesive but he's definitely not having it if someone's getting too friendly with you

Suddenly his arm is around your shoulders and he's leaning into you or he's fixing your uniform and he keeps staring into whoever's decided to try

And thing is, he IS subtle enough for it not to seem weird but the vibe of "go tf away" is definitely there

And even with all that cunning thinking and that pretty genius head he's got, he's still SO easy to fluster

Despite all the talk so far, let's not forget that not only is he a teenage boy that doesn't seem to have any experience in romance but also he's such a nerd💔

No matter how comfortable he is with you there's still these random times he's all cute and flustered and it's over nothing

Kiss on the cheek? Poof he's red

You're gushing over him? Steam out of his ears like a cartoon

You're looking at him lovingly? Please give him time to cool down

If you're staring at his lips long enough and he catches on you'll probably have him rebooting his brain for a few seconds before he actually gives you a kiss

His poor heart can't take it

Despite the fact that his love languages i think would be quality time and acts of service, i think he's affectionate

Just in private

Remember him helping you study?

He's holding your hand, and if you're writing something he's kinda leaning on you

And most of the time the study session turns into a cuddle session when you're done studying

Usually it would be spooning while you guys are watching a movie or your head on his chest and he's either scrolling oh his phone or reading something

It's just so relaxing

Also he's randomly so? soft??

You could be laughing so hard you sound like you're choking on air or stuffing your mouth like a hamster or yapping away on something

And when you look back at him he's looking at you all warm and fuzzy and he makes your heart jump

"I'm so lucky to have you." "I love how your eyes crinkle when you smile, you know that?" "No, no, please keep laughing. I wanna listen to you."

Immediate heart attack

And when he catches on how flustered it makes you he's gonna do it even more too

Please let him be, he just wants you to know how happy he is to be yours

๑Requests are open btw(⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)✧⁠*⁠。

[psychoticallykind]

Breathing

"Stay" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 532 words

--------------------------------------------------------------

James took quick, gasping breaths, hands pressed tightly to his chest.

Breathe. Just breathe. It's not that hard, just breathe.

Exam next week.

Essay tonight.

Practice tomorrow.

Marlene's birthday party, I need to set that up.

I can't believe I missed that question.

Merlin, why is it so hard to just breathe?

"James?"

No.

Nononononononono.

"Just a minute," James managed, forcing his voice into something resembling normal.

Don't open the door. I just need a minute. I can fix this, I will fix this, I just have to breathe.

The door opened, and James felt himself tense.

Nonononononononono-

"James?" Regulus dropped down in front of him, blue eyes wide. "What's - what's wrong?"

"Noth - ing," James managed. "Nothing, I'm - I'm fine, just need a minute."

"You are not fine," Regulus argued. He glanced around the room. "Okay, just - just stay here, I'll be right back."

No, wait, please, don't leave -

Breathe, breathe, breathe, just breathe.

Regulus was back within minutes, tugging James forward and dropping a heavy fabric around his shoulders. "Here, take this." He handed James a peppermint, and James obediently slipped it onto his tongue.

"It's called a weighted blanket, it's a muggle thing," Regulus told him. "Remus showed it to me. It helps regulate your nervous system or something - I don't know, but he said it can help with panic attacks and he seemed pretty sure about it and I think that's what's happening here because you don't have asthma or anything. I hope you don't, at least, because if you do then that really isn't going to help."

"No asthma," James managed. "Just stupid feelings."

"Not stupid." Regulus shook his head, dark curls flying down into his eyes. "Nothing about you is stupid, James. Nothing."

He nodded. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Regulus breathed. He took a deep breath. "Okay, so - sensory, right? That's how you get out of a panic attack? I think so. Um. Okay - here, copy the rhythm." Regulus raised his hands, clapping in a pattern. One - three - two - one.

James copied it, focusing on the movements so that he didn't mess up.

"Good, you've got it," Regulus encouraged him. "Now this one."

Five - five - one - one - five.

He could do that. Five - five - one - one - five.

"Perfect. Okay, now this." Regulus clapped out a new pattern, and they continued that way for a while - back and forth.

By the time they stopped, the pain in his lungs had faded, the buzzing in his head was gone, and he could breathe without a tremendous amount of effort.

"How do you feel?" Regulus checked. "Better?"

James nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Of course." Regulus stood up, offering his hands to help James do the same. "And we're definitely talking about this later. But right now you're going to lay down and get some rest, because you look exhausted and I know you didn't sleep last night."

"Stay with me?" James asked softly.

Regulus's tone softened. "I'll always stay with you. Come on."

James complied easily, letting Regulus arrange them how he liked. He could feel Regulus's heartbeat this way - steady and calming.

Regulus hummed quietly, occasionally twisting his fingers through James's curls, and James slowly fell asleep.

Safe. Breathing.

With Regulus.

[atsumwah]

too pretty!

featuring : matsukawa issei the loml <3

notes : you're jealous your bf is too pretty

you're aware that your friends are very attractive. 

oikawa's somewhat charming personality easily grabs a girl's attention, iwaizumi's buff figure immediately turns heads whenever he enters a room and makki had this boyish ruggish look that somewhat looks cute to some people. it's normal seeing them being hit on by girls and sometimes it's like a form of entertainment for you.

but your boyfriend on the other hand, now this is new.

you've been together since high school. you've always found issei attractive. he's not a smooth talker like oikawa, but his attentiveness and response when you talk to him makes you feel seen and heard. he doesn't seem as built as iwaizumi at first glance, but underneath those baggy clothes hid something you're glad only you can see and touch. he's not as easy going as makki, but the way he spontaneously shows up at your house at 3 in the morning when you're upset tells you maybe he's easy going when it comes to you. 

so falling in love with him was inevitable because all the things he does with you and only you are attractive. 

but you're not the only one who thinks that anymore. 

see, after your boyfriend figured out his own style that weren't baggy clothes and instead fitted his physique and also found a way to style his usual mess of a bedhead into luscious curls, he suddenly became attractive to everyone around him. 

and it pissed you off. he was always attractive without the sudden change but now its like that's all people see. 

like when you visited oikawa and iwaizumi at the gym and the manager shamelessly flirted with issei the moment you left to greet them. or when you visited makki with him at the cafe he worked at and makki's coworker only paid attention to issei and completely ignored you. or when you were out grocery shopping and left issei for five minutes only to come back to a girl who had the audacity to ask if he was single.

so yeah you're pissed off. and there's only one logical way to fix this.

"what are you doing?" issei asks as you settle down on his lap and ruffle his already done up hair. "baby, i just fixed it."

"i know. i'm ruining it." 

instead of being mad his hair is being messy, he raises an eyebrow instead. "but then we're gonna be late."

"you'll go out like this then." 

he has this amused smile now. "okay, what's up with you?"

"nothing." you said, somewhat proud of your work. "just fixing you up."

"this is the opposite of fixing me up, babe." he took your hands and plants kisses across your palms, then he rests his own hands on your hips. "why are you making me look like i just made out with you? there are other ways to achieve that." 

in another situation you would cave in but you had a mission. "you're too good looking. i'm trynna make you look less good looking."

this time, he laughs. "gee thanks babe. i appreciate the compliment." 

"i'm serious." you pout, though issei just keeps on laughing. "you're too pretty and girls are swooning all over you and you don't even do anything about it."

"whoa what," he stops, eyes locking onto yours. "who's swooning over who now?"

"everyone is all over you. can't you tell?" you huff when you realize his bed head makes him look even more attractive. damn it.

"honestly no." he says simply. "and you're…jealous?"

"i'm not jealous. i'm pissed. there's a difference."

"pretty sure they're the same thing, babe."

you squish his cheeks, framing his face with your hands. "stop being so pretty."

he chuckles and brings his hands up to cover yours. "this is really bothering you, huh?"

"maybe just a tad bit."

"you know i only got eyes on you, right?" he takes your hands off and leans in so you both are nose to nose.

"i've been told so once or twice."

"once or twice?"

"maybe hundreds of times but who's counting."

"and you know im stuck with you forever, right?"

"mhm," you indulge him by wrapping your arms around him, "you better be."

"so there's no reason for you to get all jealous." he says, eyebrows raising up as if an idea popped into his head. "what if you just kiss me if that happens?"

"like stake my claim? what are we, animals?" 

"i mean that's what i've been doing when guys hit on you."

"it is? wait, back up, when has that happened?"

"you're delusional if you think guys don't hit on you."

"they don't!"

"yeah well they don't get the chance to do it properly because my radar is just too good."

"oh my god, you're serious."

"deadass. and lemme tell you, it always works." he says proudly. "i get to turn you into mush and also send a warning to other guys. win-win situation."

"i do not turn to mush."

"really now?" he wiggles his eyebrows. "want a reminder?"

you think you've indulged him quite enough so you flick his forehead instead. he winces. good.

"so you don't mind?" you said, narrowing your eyes playfully. "you don't mind me staking my claim on you next time it happens?

"baby, please, I encourage it." he says, almost too quickly.

you giggle, feeling some sort of satisfaction that your boyfriend is all on board with you staking your claim in front of people. it should make you feel shy or embarrassed but it kind of makes you feel giddy instead. but he doesn't need to know that yet.

tempted to do a pt2 but it's just me reader making out w issei

[lsunstreakerl]

@tinytysh here you go! it's sort of split into two scenes, with one emotional safeword (daniel, before they have a designated safeword, so more of the spirit of the safeword than the actual thing) and one physical safeword (max, discomfort)

2k corporate au! explicit, hurt comfort (emotional and physical)

pairings: daniel ricciardo/max verstappen

relevant heads up: safeword use, very slight max shaming, toys

There's nothing in particular about the day that's been wrong. Morning meetings went long, sure, but Max can handle that.

Maybe it's that his coffee didn't taste right, or he forgot breakfast. Maybe it's the way he hates this time of year, or how the seam of his sock is weird against his shoe. Maybe it's the voicemail from Jos, acidic and vile in his ear.

But none of those things matter— so Max isn't sure why he feels shifty in his skin in the elevator, watching the numbers tick up until he reaches Daniel's floor. He's hoping being on his knees will get him out of his head.

Daniel's eyebrows arch with surprise when Max slips inside without knocking, barely glancing to make sure he's not on a call as he makes his way to his desk.

"Hey babe, I didn't..."

He trails off as Max thoughtlessly folds onto his knees, eyes focusing on the seam of his slacks, feeling slightly disconnected from reality. Max brings his hands up to fidget with his belt, fumbling twice before he gets it unbuckled.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to argue with having you down there, am I? Can you get under the desk for me, Maxy?"

The words drift through the unpleasant cotton in his head, and Max shuffles to be settled firmly under the desk, waiting for Daniel to get his cock out.

He can be good at this. If nothing else, he knows he can make Daniel happy, has something worthwhile about him. It feels like he hasn't been doing a very good job at it lately— Daniel cums, but he's always quick to move on afterwards, and Max hates feeling like he's failing.

The unease sits uncomfortably within him as Daniel pushes the band of his underwear down, barely giving Max time to get his lips around the head of his cock before Max hears the squirt of hand sanitizer and typing from above him.

Daniel can't even touch him without feeling dirty, and all Max is—

"My little office slut, yeah? Useless at everything else, but you're good at this."

It stings. It stings in a way that Max has learned is different from the pleasant sting, even though it's the same things Daniel has said to him before, things he likes.

He doesn't like it today. It hurts, another tiny chip into his self esteem, already low. Max knows he isn't good at anything else— couldn't finish law school, couldn't handle Jos, can't even do his job right, reduced to being his CEO's plaything.

He knows he isn't really contributing to anything, unless they're counting lackluster blowjobs in his performance evaluation, in which case— today isn't a very good performance.

He drifts further away, but it's not the pleasant float he normally experiences under the desk, it's worse. He feels more disconnected than he did before he got on his knees, unable to even focus on having Daniel's cock in his mouth. He feels numb.

He blinks, confused as to why his cheek is wet, vision blurry.

A hand settles in his hair, and he realizes Daniel's voice has trailed off, and he's pulling Max off of him, and Max can't even suck dick right—

"Max, hey— whoa, hey, why are you crying?"

Daniel rolls the chair back, his grip in Max's hair pulling him with him, out from the protection of the desk. Max blinks again, realizing as another tear slides down his cheek that oh, he is crying.

He swallows, trying to find his voice, leaning forward again. He'll do better, he'll get it right, Daniel just has to give him another chance.

"I'll do better sir, please, let me— I'll fix it—"

He can hear the thready desperation in his voice, and his heart is sinking as Daniel frowns, shaking his head.

"No, babe, I don't think... I don't think that's a good idea."

Max opens his mouth to protest, but Daniel pushes two fingers past his lips, pressing down his tongue as he narrows his eyes suspiciously at him.

"What's really going on?"

His fingers are shiny with spit when he pulls them out, and Max squeezes his eyes shut against the hot press of tears, nails digging into his thighs.

"Nothing, just— let me suck you off, sir, please."

Daniel's lips press together, brown eyes concerned.

"I said no, Max."

His fingers dig seeping into his skin, a hot bubble of anger snapping inside of him, startlingly bright.

"Why do you care, it has never mattered to you before, I thought the whole point was that I'm just some convenient hole to fuck—"

"Max."

He freezes. Daniel doesn't really snap at him often, but he just did, voice sharp.

"That's enough."

He glares up at him, lashes wet and clumped together, and Daniel seems annoyed, frown twisting at his lips.

"I'm not sure what the hell has gotten into you, but you need to cool it. You don't have all-access up here just to waltz in, give a shit blowjob, and then mouth off at me, that's not how this works."

Max grinds his teeth, jaw tight.

"Sorry I wanted to be worth something. I won't make that mistake again."

Daniel's fingers curl tight in his hair, tugging sharply at his scalp, and Max curls his lip at him. He's bitter, upset and tumultuous, and this has only made things worse.

"What the fuck, Max? Obviously you're fucking worth something, Jesus. I don't hire worthless people."

Max scoffs, blinking rapidly as another tear slips out.

"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me, sir."

He spits out the honorific mockingly. Everything inside of him is spiraling out of control, an inferno growing larger and larger, massively out of hand and intent on ruining everything.

"Excuse me—"

Daniel cuts himself off, fingers abruptly loosening in Max's hair.

"No— no. Stop. Whatever the fuck we're doing, I'm— I'm putting it on hold. There is clearly something else going on with you."

He pauses, sighing before he rolls the chair back further, fingers curling in the collar of Max's shirt to tug him upright, pulling him closer to the chair.

"Come here."

Max doesn't meet his eyes as he lowers himself into the chair, thighs spread wide across Daniel's. Neither of them are hard, and he's gone and ruined everything, their arrangement and his job in one stupid move. Office slut of the year, that's him.

Daniel brushes one thumb across the skin of his hip, looking intently at Max.

"I do not think you're worthless. Nobody in this entire building thinks that, Max. You impressed everyone in your intern year, and you've never stopped impressing them. You're smart, babe. You wouldn't have been recommended to me if you weren't."

He pauses, thumb resuming its smooth strokes a moment later.

"And you're very, very good for me."

Max's eyes flick up to meet his unintentionally, wide and hopeful as his shoulders relax incrementally. Something in Daniel eases up as well, relaxing back into his chair as he looks at him.

"Is that what you needed to hear? You're good for me, Maxy. Every time you come up here, so sweet and willing all the time."

It's a soothing balm against where Max feels raw and sensitive, slowly starting to patch his bleeding heart.

"There's the pretty boy I know."

He's starting to feel a low sense of exhaustion, but the floating is slowly shifting, reminding him more of the good kind than anything. It's clearly noticeable, because Daniel seems less stressed, letting Max hook his chin over his shoulder as he holds him.

"There you go, babe. Get it out of your system."

It's not quite what Max needs— he feels like a starving man, desperate for more, even just the tiniest scrap of praise— but it's better.

It's better.

------

Max whimpers, collapsing forward onto the counter as the vibrations pick up, plug pressed flush against his prostate. The countertop is cool against his flushed chest, nipples peaked against the chill, and he squirms as his eyes roll back, knees weak.

"Danny please, please I can't take it anymore—"

He hears Daniel's soft laugh behind him, and the humiliated flush to his cheeks burns brighter as he moans. He can't stop moving, trying to escape the sensation, and he can only imagine how it must look to Daniel.

He's been doing it to him all day. It had started in the morning, when Max woke up with the cock ring on— a fun treat from Daniel while he'd slept, apparently. He'd been fucked open and plugged before breakfast, and Daniel has been edging him since then, toying with him for hours.

He can't do it anymore. It hits like a lightning strike, the abrupt tip from something he still enjoyed to something he doesn't, and he panics, fingers clawing at the counter.

"Danny— red, red, make it stop—"

The vibration stops a moment later, and Max takes a second to catch his breath, trembling. He's not sure why he feels so bad, breath hitching as Daniel's palm curves across his hip.

"Max, babe, it's okay."

Daniel's slowly moving his hands across him, stroking carefully down Max's arm. Max shifts, meaning to turn around, but the brush against his prostate makes him freeze with a pained cry, forehead tipping back down against the cool counter.

"Shit— alright, you can stay there. Can I take it out of you?"

Daniel sounds worried. It's probably fair, given that he and Max never even had a safe word until Rico had gotten involved, and this is the first time Max has ever used it.

Max takes a slow breath, nodding.

"Please."

There's a reassuring squeeze at his hip before Daniel wraps his fingers around the base of the plug, pulling it out slowly. The stretch of it hurts at its widest point, and Max feels empty when it's gone, gasping quietly.

"Danny, I don't— I'm sorry."

He's ruined it. Their day, their evening, whatever Daniel had planned.

Daniel slides two fingers inside of him, satisfying the emptiness while carefully avoiding his prostate, and Max can hear the small noise he makes at the words.

"Max, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry— I pushed you too far, too fast. You weren't ready."

Max sniffs, saltwater tracing down the side of his nose.

"I should have been ready."

Daniel kisses his back over his spine.

"It's not your job to look out for that, babe. That's part of my job when we're together."

That's definitely Rico's influence. It soothes Max all the same, and he finally twists to face Daniel, relived to immediately get a kiss. Daniel kisses him deeply, licking across the roof of his mouth as he slowly removes his fingers.

He pulls back, pressing another soft kiss to Max's lips.

"Do you want to keep the ring on?"

He pushes a finger against Max's bottom lip before he can respond, looking at him fondly.

"I want you to think about what you want, not what you think I want."

Max pouts against his finger. He likes having the ring on. If Daniel takes it off, he's just going to feel like he's being punished.

He shakes his head, waiting for Daniel to remove his finger.

"I just want to cuddle. And more kisses."

Daniel grins, dipping down for another deep kiss as he pulls him forward into his chest.

"Kisses and cuddles, I can do that."

[zyonicorn]

Click to Start Chatting

Many months ago, I met my girlfriend through an app called “V-loop”. It was an app for meeting new people, and there was a function for you to follow people you liked and chat with them, though the requirement was that the other person had to follow you too.

The first time I saw her profile, I was hesitating if I should follow her or not, but she's literally my type. “Let’s just give it a try.” I stared at the “@_zyozyo/ 106 followers/ 5 following” for a few seconds, then clicked “follow” eventually.

I don't even know if she liked girls, all I knew was her name, Jihyo, which kept lingering in my mind. She was so gorgeous, every picture seemed like a piece of art, that I didn't even deserve to savor. 

“Click to start chatting”

It was my third time checking the chat session in an hour, my heart skipped a beat when I saw the line, indicating she followed me back.

“Hey there! Are you y/n?”

Yes! Nice to meet you 🫣

“Why’d you follow me?”

Cuz you look easy to get along with :)

“I see.. You’re cute”

Her direct expression made you don't know how to answer for a moment.

Thanks..?

The chat continued. The two of you started to share about your daily lives, people you've met, what you had for lunch. In just a week, you got closer to Jihyo that she told you about her work, stress, and some personal matters.

“Y/n.. I'm pretty frustrated lately.”

What’s wrong??

Everything sounded normal, just like how you usually chat with her.

“I don't know if I should tell you but..”

“What I meant by ‘frustrated’ is sexually.”

Oh um, but why are you telling me about this?

“I want you to solve it for me.”

Though you were really, really shocked by her straightforward words, you still replied right away, just to hide the fact that you were panicking, staring at the screen while your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

I mean, why me? We met online and you’ll never know who I actually am.

There are many scams nowadays, and despite being shocked, you’re also worried about Jihyo.

“Cuz I know I can trust you. I have my reasons, just say yes or no.”

“Of course, I won't force you if you don't want to, it's my personal problem after all.”

She’s so thoughtful, that your heart pounds faster for her again.

Well, sure I can help you. But it's not as easy as it’s said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll book a hotel room and send you the address. All you have to do is go there and help me out.”

She sent you a link right away, booked tomorrow, a whole day. She doesn't sound nervous or embarrassed anymore, unlike you, who still not believe your type asked you out, for sex.

That night you barely slept, the only 3 hours of sleep, you had a dirty dream about Jihyo. You woke up at 6, found your underwear wet. “What the fuck…” you breathe out, without thinking much, you change quickly and have a shower.

The time she suggested was 8, at a cafe near the hotel, so the two of you can have a small chat and get to know each other.

“I’m over here, Jihyo-ssi!” you waved while tipping your toes, trying to maintain your smile and not faint from the beauty of the woman approaching in baggy jeans and a white ruffled top.

“Hey there!! Oh…” she suddenly stopped talking, looking up and down at you. You thought you looked messy, or maybe disappointing her because you looked different from the picture, so you quickly fixed your posture and pulled your shirt straight.

“What’s the matter?” you hesitated before asking, the woman’s bright confident expression seemed to soften a little. She looked back into your eyes and smiled kindly, your face exposing your nervousness. “Nothing, but you’re even cuter than I thought” she calmly said. 

You blushed at her words, which Jihyo noticed right away. She smiled even more that it pushed her cheeks up perfectly. 

“Alright, let’s go in.” her arm wrapped around your shoulder, while you blushed even harder from her warm touch. She helped you with your chair, then sat at your opposite. Looking at you, she asked “Do you want to drink something?” though you had mentally prepared for what would happen today already, you’re still shy about being in front of Jihyo.

“N-no, thanks. I’ve had my breakfast,” you responded. “Okay. Our check-in is at  9, so why don't we have a small talk first?” she started the topic. The chat between you two sounded just like how you chatted online. Her friendly tone eased your anxiety. 

The chat went well, she started to brush your leg with her shoes. Leaning closer to you across the table, she asked, “Why don't we head off to the hotel now? It’s almost time.” her smirk showed her excitement.

“Sure” You got up as she held your hand, like a normal couple, though you were too timid to hold her back until her fingers crossed yours.

On your 5 minutes way to the hotel, you started the conversation. “Don’t get me wrong but, have you done this many times before?” you asked after hesitating.

“Done what?” “Like- having sex with people you met online?” you asked, though it’s hard to say it out loud. “Oh honey, what makes you think that?” she looked surprised for a moment, but fixed her expression quickly. “I-I mean, you’re all calm from the start, I wonder if you’re experienced,” you explained yourself.

“I did have sex before, with my ex-boyfriend. But he never satisfied me. We broke up and I'm feeling empty. So I wanted to try it with a woman, then you showed up.” she said. You were kind of confused, are you that extraordinary? You never found yourself attractive. That's what you asked Jihyo, she replied, “You’re kind and caring. Have some confidence in yourself! I found it really comfortable to be with you.”

That's almost a confession, you thought. Maybe confidence is what you lack. The two of you stepped into the hotel hall. It was big and the atmosphere was peaceful. The receptionist handed Jihyo the key as she took care of everything. 

There’s a big window in the room, with a large bed for two. The fact that you’re having sex with this beautiful woman hit you suddenly. Your heart pounded faster and faster, you tried to hide your blush while bending over to take off your shoes. Jihyo was faster than you, she put her bag aside and sat on the edge of the bed.

She pats her side, signaling you to sit there. The bed was soft and clean, the sheet felt cold like your hands. “So.. Do you want to start?” “S-sure” you answered, but you have no idea how to do it. 

She smirked and leaned closer, her face hovering above yours. “Maybe I’ll begin first,” she whispered and tilted her head so she could kiss your lips. The first kiss was soft, like testing the water. You closed your eyes, feeling her moist lip on yours, slowly opening your mouth and her tongue slipped in smoothly. It was as hot as you imagined, your hands reached for her shirt to pull her closer. She smiled at your eagerness, as you get turned on more and more.

The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, along with the sound you and Jihyo’s mouths made. You sneaked your hand down to Jihyo’s crotch, another to her tit. Feeling the temperature passing through the clothes, unlike your cold hands, she seems to be hot.

“Can you take the lead?” she noticed that you relaxed a bit, then asked softly while pulling away. “So we’re starting right now?” you smirked. You've thought of pushing her into the bed directly, but you know it’s polite and necessary to ask, you’re the one pleasuring her today, anyway.

“Sure, if you can,” she said and pulled you into a kiss, more passionate than before. Her soft whimpers are leading you to release your need, you press her into the bed, straddling her while kissing. “Take those off,” you said. She pulled her shirt and blouse, and you took off her jeans, leaving her underwear on.

You gasped from seeing her boobs spring free, they’re bigger than they looked like when she was wearing her bra and the shirt. “How do you want me to please you?” you asked while drawing slow circles on her abs.

“Suck on my tits and finger me, I know you want it,” she smiled in anticipation, while you were still not moving your gaze away from her breasts. 

You leaned down and grabbed her tits with both hands, though you couldn't fully hold on them. Enveloping one of her nipples with your lips, she felt your hot breath fanning her skin and your cold hands at the same time, feeling the sensation while giving out soft whines.

She guides one of your hands to her abs, then underwear. You pressed into her clit through the fabric softly, making Jihyo moan even louder.

You moved to the side of her and sat up, playing with her chest with one hand and another rubbing her clothes clit. 

“You’re dripping,” you smirked and circled even faster, brushing her slit occasionally. “For you, love” her voice unsteady. Love? She just called me love? That name is melting you on the inside, but you have to act calm.

“Can I take it off?” you asked while reaching for the strap of her underwear. She immediately nodded. It was a white normal underwear, matching her bra. 

A string of juice connected the cloth and her pussy, you didn't expect she would be this “juicy”. You cut the string with your finger and playfully licked it. She looked at you staring at her pussy, “Taste it” her voice was soft, you didn't catch what she was saying- or rather you would say, you didn't believe what she was saying.

“Sorry?” you asked her to repeat. She said again, “Eat me.” This time you made sure you didn't hear her wrong. You’ve never licked a pussy, you don’t know how to make Jihyo comfortable with your mouth.

“Tell me if it hurts,” you still asked just in case. She nodded and closed her eyes, “don’t push yourself too much just because of me, love” she said. You took off your clothing, naked while your face hovered on Jihyo’s pussy. She was being so thoughtful, to be honest, just by chatting with her, you thought she would use you like a sex toy. But turns out she cares about your feelings too.

You lapped your hot tongue onto her clit, feeling your saliva dropping from the roof of your mouth. Jihyo curled her legs and let out a whimper. “Just go for it, baby. I can’t wait” She sounded weak, almost begging you. And of course, you would obey this perfect woman. 

You sucked her clit and folds into your mouth, her juice covering your lips. Jihyo’s mouth fell open, she gasped and exhaled heavily under your touch. She’s so sensitive that you wanted to tease her. You flicked your tongue on her clit and fanned your breath on her pussy.

“S-suck me just like how you did..” she spoke up and her fist clenched onto the hotel’s bed sheet.

You remember you’re here to satisfy Jihyo, so you decided to stop teasing her. You took her clit into your mouth, saliva mixed with her juice. It’s something you’ve never tasted before, tastier than anything else.

It’s time, you thought. Putting your tongue into her cunt, it was moist and warm. Her tight wall clenched, although your jaw was sore, you didn’t stop. You started to bob your your head, paying attention to Jihyo’s breathing.

“Hmph-” her noises sharp but short, legs bending uncontrollably. Her back started to arch, she held your head and tried to fuck your face. You kept yourself in place and licked her sweet spot, her moans getting denser and denser.

Her juice squeezed onto your face, some dropped into the sheet below. Her eyelid was half closed, she panted heavily.

You lay next to her, she hugged you and kissed your lips eagerly. You thought she would need some rest, but it was the complete opposite. You looked up, “what’s next?”

She stared into your eyes, lust and desire filled her gaze.

“Now let mommy treat you nice and well, as the payback for the wonderful work you’ve just done.”

Mommy? What does she mean? Your brain did not really register her words. But that doesn’t matter, she flipped you so now you’re on your stomach. Your juice oozed out from hearing her moans just now, making your crotch a mess.

She leaned onto you, her hot wet pussy right under your ass cheek. You felt Jihyo’s chest pressed onto your back as her hand moved slowly from your upper back to your ass, then your wet needy cunt, the trail of touch her fingertip left giving you a chill in your spine.

She rubbed your clit and folds forcefully, teasing around the entrance. Her delicate touches don't feel like it’s her first time with a woman. She knows everything you need, every bit of skin is caressed.

Her hand moved around your stomach and went under it, giving her a better angle to touch your pussy. It went between the bed and your skin, hot and moist, you don’t know if it’s her sweat or your slick.

She started to circle your clit ruthlessly, your muffled moans covered by the pillow that you buried your face in. You felt Jihyo starting to grind her pussy on the back of your thigh, slick coating your skin as pleasure builds in your body. 

 Her bare pussy grinding on your leg, she rocked her hips with desire, while working on your clit with her fingers. “Oh god you sound so good” she moans and praises every sound you make. Pressing your head into the pillow even more, you felt the suffocation. Mind blank, only the knot in your stomach slowly unraveling, and tied tight again every time she slow down to tease. 

Your head spins and cunt clenches as she circle her fingers. She noticed your moans and softened to tease. “L-let me cum-” You raised your head, didn't notice the tears on your face. Sweat stuck your hair on your face, making you look messy.

“Call me mommy” she commanded. Maybe it’s her “kink”, you obeyed her immediately. “M-mommy please” you breathed out.

She sped up her fingers, the sound of wetness sent to your ears. You felt like you were almost blacking out. 

The knot in your core seems to be releasing, slowly consuming the little sanity left in your mind. Your feet clasped Jihyo’s hand in between, your moans becoming denser, you felt like someone was holding onto your lungs, not letting you breathe. Jihyo’s voice was right next to your ear, your back arching up from time to time as you felt Jihyo speeding up on your thigh. “Fuck” you heard her faintly breathe out. She sounds angelic, you would love to keep fucking her just to hear her again.

“Hmph-!!” you squeezed your eyes shut, almost crying out of pleasure. The organisms washed through your body completely, Jihyo’s juice coated your thigh, she hugged you tight and continued to draw circles on your clit, until you have fully ridden out your climax.

She took her hand out, dripping with your water. You couldn't move at all, mind blank, vision blurred. The bed sheet was all wet, you felt Jihyo’s honey going down your flesh. You uncontrollably shivered, slick still slowly flowing out of your cunt.

In Jihyo’s eyes, your face is washed red, cum dripping, hair stuck onto your face because of your sweat and tears, your mouth slightly opened, heavily breathing, while you shivered hard.

Jihyo sucked the slick on her fingers, and cleaned you up with her mouth. You felt her tongue going from your thigh to your dripping pussy. She sucked on it a few times, you felt your sensitive cunt go through some tiny organisms as she licked you up.

She flipped you over, looking at you from above with a big smile on her face. “Messy” She kissed you as you pulled her into your body. Your words were still shaky, “I’ve never had such great sex ever” “I think I might be addicted.” 

She sat up and put her head onto her thigh, you’re now lying as Jihyo strokes your hair softly. “Then we should do this often.” She looked at you and said. You smiled, if you do this often, you think you might be ‘used up’ one day.

“Rest for a while. I’ll help you with the shower later.”

You fell asleep. She softly said to your ears, “Thank you.”

-

Pretty much rushed, I’m not satisfied with this fic but I don't want to keep you guys waiting :( sry for the low quality and the long waitttt

[dinogoofymutated]

Okay so like,,,,I usually never make requests (I’m a lurker fr fr) but your writing Is god tier, so I gotta ask:

Could you do a fic for Hank/Beast? He’s my personal fave but I never see any content for him ever, like the fic scene for this man is a ghost town. he’s underrated as hell. My man is ripped, highly intelligent and respectful of the arts! Yet he doesn’t get any attention.

I would love to see some general headcanons (SFW & NSFW) if you’re up to it. no problem if you don’t write for him or something, I just thought i would ask.

Thanks!

SFW!Beast/GN!Reader

To be honest, I actually wasn't really sure about writing for Hank at first because I've never really had a connection to the character, but he grew on me!! Plus, I'm here to serve lolol we've been starved of fics as a Fandom for basically forever and it would be a disservice not to fill the Hank void out there! Hope it's okay that I only wrote Sfw headcannons, I have a separate req for NSFW for him so I decided to split it into two to save my sanity lol. Finals are gonna be hell for me.

-ps- Should I be writing right now? no. Am I doing it anyway? Yurp. Also, I'm basing his history off of the fandom wiki, so I'm sorry if anything is off.

Tws: none that I can think of atm. As always, reader written while picturing fem but no pronouns mentioned.

Hank, despite what some would think, was most definitely a heartthrob, particularly in his college days!! I mean, a man who's confident, smart, respectful, and also an athlete? Who wouldn't swoon? He was 110% the guy that everyone wanted to take home to their parents.

And He's such a sweet, attentive lover too!! Acts of service almost definitely is a love language for him. He cooks for you, fixes the broken things that you didn't even realize were broken, even organizes your notes before a difficult exam.

He loves to surprise you with flowers, even if it isn't any special occasion, and if you ask, he'll help you preserve them as well!

He loves to kiss your forehead, temples, and hands. On top of that, he's very touchy. The two of you were most definitely seen as the parents of any friend group.

Things changed a little after he took the serum that mutated him further. His confidence had taken a blow, and he just didn't quite know how to approach you anymore.

It took a hot minute to reassure him that you didn't really care if he was blue, or furry, or beastly, he was still Hank Mccoy, wasn't he? He was the man you were in love with, and you certainly weren't going to stop now. Besides, you still thought he was handsome. With the kinds of books he's seen you read, you're a bit surprised that he didn't think you would find him attractive.

Things gradually got back to normal, but for a while, he didn't kiss you as often as he used to. Well, he didn't kiss you period. Even though he knew the incredible extent to which you loved him, the shape of his mouth had changed. Hell, he had fangs that he would rather die than mark you with.

You practically had to tie him down into a contract to get him to kiss you again. He was always one to experiment, why not treat this the same? If you kiss, and it goes well, you do it again. If it goes well a second time and a third, you have a pretty reliable test. Validity shouldn't matter when he knew that you loved him to bits already.

He felt like he was falling in love with you all over again, and yet he still hesitated. It wasn't until you had grabbed him by the collar to drag him into a kiss that he actually relaxed, and what do you know, it was a pretty reliable test after all. A predictive one too, with how often you continued to kiss him afterwards.

Domestic was the best way to describe your relationship with Hank.

    You yawned as you made your way down to the lab, still in your pajamas and slippers. Just a few hours previously, after a shower and self-care routine, you had settled into bed with an eyebrow-raising book as you waited for your husband to come to bed. This was a normal routine for the two of you, you immersing yourself into a book to stay awake until Hank entered, kissed your temple sweetly, and began his own nightly routine. It was a set of events you were used to. 

    Today, however, you felt like you had done a lot more reading than usual. When you finally pulled yourself out of your book and checked the time, the clock by your bed read 11 pm. A rather late time for Hank to be out, but you already knew where he would be. The lower levels of the mansion were extra cold at night, and you find yourself rubbing some warmth into your arms as you approach the lab. 

    The doors open with a swish, the light of the lab having all been darkened exempt for the lamp on Hank’s desk. He’s so immersed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t even realize when you come in. You walk up behind his chair, running your hands through his hair softly when you reach him.

    Hank isn’t surprised, sighing at the pleasant sensation as he tips his head back to encourage you. You giggle a little, leaning down to press a kiss to his head as you begin to massage his scalp.

    “It’s late.” You say gently. Hank hums in response, eyes closed as he appreciates your touch. 

    “I’m sorry, my love. Seems I was a little entranced.” He says. You huff at him playfully.

    “You say entranced, I say you’re overworking yourself. You’ve been working on this project all week. Don’t let it cut into your rest time.” Your scolding always sounded too nice, but he knows you mean it. Hank sighs again, this time sounding a little more tired, but he doesn't argue. He rolls around to face you, pulling you into a tired hug from his chair. 

     “Perhaps it is time I go to bed. What time is it, my dear?” 

    “Eleven.” Hank lets out a quiet chuckle at your quick reply, finally standing up. He doesn’t let go of you however, choosing to rest his head on your shoulder as he sways the two of you back and forth.

    “You’re most certainly right, it is late. Much too late for a man to leave his lovely spouse waiting. Oh, whatever shall I do to make it up to you?.” His words come out as a purr, and you let out a curt laugh at him. You pull away a little, taking his large hands in your own as you lead him to the door. He smiles widely when you stop for a moment, remembering his glasses and placing them on his face before starting to drag him to bed. 

    “I’ll let you decide that, Love. As long as you make it to bed, that’s apology enough for me.”

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Do It For Him | Keep Quiet For Me | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You're on a family vacation but Jungkook wants you no matter the risk... Pairing: Daughter in law reader x Father in Law Jungkook (Yändere) Word Count: 2.3k~ Warnings: Explicit language, an injury and blood, smuttttt and infidelity (but it's difh so duh lmao) and barely edited but yeah that's normal for me lmao a/n: This is response to someone asking for a drabble of in regards to my answer on this ask thank you to the anon/s that were interested in this and sorry it took so long to get out 😭 I was very very burnt out on this story so I hope this'll make up for it Series Masterlist

"Do you need anything? I'm gonna run inside and go to the bathroom" I whisper to my husband while we're lounging outside with the rest of the family. "No that's okay, you go ahead" he says and I respond with a quick okay and give him a quick kiss before standing up. 

"Actually" he say, grabbing my hand to stop me from leaving just yet. I hum in acknowledgment, waiting to hear his request. "Do you think you could grab me another beer? Take your time in there though" he says giving me a sluggish smile, telling me he's fully relaxed and that I should probably follow up that beer with some water. "Sure honey" I say, grabbing both of our empty Kloud bottles and heading inside. 

Walking into the house I first go into the kitchen to throw away the bottles but on my way I grab my phone out of my pocket to check a notification that came in but before I'm even able to turn it on I feel one of the bottle slip from my grasp and fall on the floor, smashing and scattering the glass all over the floor. 

"Perfect" I groan under my breath and start crouching down to pick it all up. "Need a hand?" Jungkook asks raising his eyebrows after seeing the mess I've made. "No I'm fine I can take care of this on my own" I grumble and continue to pick up the shards while Jungkook just stands there staring at me. 

"What do you want Jungkook?" I ask after a few moments pass by and realize he's been starting at my chest this whole time. "Don't you think that bathing suit is a little...revealing?" he asks as he continues to stare, not even bothering to look me in the eye. 

"Last time I checked I didn't ask for your opinion and I'm still not asking for it now. Can you please just go back outside?" I ask and go to pick up another shard but when Jungkook tries to say something else I grab it too quickly and slice my hand.

"Shit" I say and stand up and grab a towel to prevent it from bleeding while I walk over to the bathroom to wash it. "There should be a first aid kit in there" Jungkook calls after me as he trails behind. "I know, why do you think I'm going to wash it in the bathroom instead of the kitchen?" I ask, pointing out how stupid it would be to tell me something I already am aware of. I've got accident prone kids so you would think it was important for me to find that right away. 

"Right" he mumbles to himself, trying to stem off the irritation in his voice. "What do you really want Jungkook?" I ask, since there's clearly something else he wants. 

"What I really wanna do is fuck that pretty attitude out of you but let's worry about fixing that hand up first Angel" he says, coming up behind me and placing a strong grasp on my hips as I wash the blood off. 

"Real funny Jeon now can you just leave? I can take care of this on my own" I say, clumsily trying to open the box but struggling to the point that Jungkook just opens it for me. "I said I could do it myself" I say, glaring at him even though I know I needed the help. "Sure you could" he responds with a taunting smile. 

Rolling my eyes at him I sift through the products and find an antiseptic and a bandaid big enough for the area. I go to rip the package open with my teeth but he takes it out of my hand before I'm able to. "I said I didn't want your help" I reply but hold out my hand anyways. "I know but you need it if we want to get this done before you bleed out" he says, focusing on the task at hand. 

"Don't be so dramatic I-" "Shh" "Did you ju-" "Shh" he shushes me again and I let out a big sigh but ultimately let him take care of it. 

"There, all better" he says, throwing away everything and I moved out of the way so he could use the sink to wash up. "Thank you" I mumble and he pauses for a second, "Thank you? Where's that smart mouth from earlier" he asks while drying his hands. "I was in pain and irritated alright just forget it" I say and turn to walk out. "That's the last time I'm saying thank you to you" I mumble and before I'm able to walk out of the bathroom he pull me back in. 

"What was that Angel? I didn't quiet catch that?" he asks, me now pressed up against the sink facing the mirror again with him pressing up against me. "I said that's the last time I'm saying thank you to you" I say glaring up at him in the mirror before focusing on trying to push him off. 

"Get off of me" I say, pushing my hips back against his and it then that I can feel how hard he's gotten. "That's not fair love. I took care of you and I think it's only fair if you help take care of me" he taunts rubbing his dick against my ass. "Jungkook stop everyone is outside" I plea, trying to knock some sense into him.

"Jungkook stop we can't do this" I say, slapping his hands away when they toy with the tie on my hip. "Why not angel? As long as you stay quiet no one will know" he says, pulling on the tie and sliding them down my legs, now only wearing my bikini top and a small cover I had over it which he slides down my shoulders next. 

"Let's take care of that attitude huh? Looks like someone forgot who they were talking to" he says, sliding his right hand down my stomach and his left up to hold my throat. "Jungkook please sto-" is all I manage to get out before he traces a finger through my folds, making me shudder at the contact. 

"Looks like someone was just begging to get fucked weren't they? Look" he say, showing me his finger, already soaked in my arousal. I try to look to turn my head away, hating that my body always responds to him but he grabs my jaw and turns me back to face the mirror. 

"Nuh uh, you're gonna be a good girl and watch. Watch me fuck that attitude right out of you just like I wanted to" he says, sliding his hand down from my jaw to my neck, applying just enough pressure to remind me of the control he has over me. 

"Let's see if you can cum on my fingers first huh? Think you could do that?" he asks and I don't answer, not wanting to play into his games. "Silent treatment huh? Cute" he says and applies more pressure before putting two fingers inside without warning. I choke back a moan, shocked up the stretch and the slight pain it brings. 

"If you want me to be gentle with you then you need to talk to me" he says, applying more pressure on my throat as if mocking me. Daring me to say something smart but I don't. "Let's try this again. You think you can cum on my fingers princess?" he asks and I shake my head slightly, wanting him to just fuck me and get this over with. 

"Really? Because I think you can. Let's test that theory" he says before he starts pushing his fingers in and out, dragging them along my walls while rubbing his thumb on my clit, all while holding my head up and making me watch as my face starts to contort in pleasure. "There you go princess, focus on how good it feels" he says, pumping his fingers in a bit faster and adding a third once I've stretched out enough. 

"You sure you can't cum? Because from the way you're body is talking to me looks like you're almost there" he taunts, taking note of how hard I'm squeezing his fingers and how my legs have already started shaking. I let out a choked back moan in response and I just hear a dry chuckle from behind, clearly enjoying my struggle in trying to keep quiet and he doesn't let up at all. 

"You're being stubborn aren't you? Trying to prove that I have to work harder to make you cum?" he growls in my ear as I continue to hold myself back, defying his claims and just waiting for him to fuck me and get it over with. 

"Fine since you want this cock so much then why don't you beg for it?" he says while taking out his cock and dragging them up and down my folds, making me purr at the sensation. 'Shit no I cannot give him the satisfaction of knowing that I'm enjoying this fuck!' 

"What was that?" he taunts, giving me a smug smile through the mirror which makes me look away again. He grabs my jaw roughly and brings my face back over again. "What was that princess? You like that?" he says doing it again, making my knees want to give out under me but he steadies me on my feet. 

"Something as simple as this is making you feel like that? Angel was sensitive now wasn't she? Just begging to get fucked and didn't know how to ask for it" he says and presses on my back making my cheek press up against the glass, my breath fogging up the mirror as he lines himself up, giving up on making me beg since we need to finish up fast before anyone notices. 

He pushes in without any notice leaving me biting down on my lip to muffle to sound but it only does so much. He inches inside of me giving me the smallest amount of time to adjust before he's bottomed out. 

"Look at you, such a dirty little slut letting me fuck you in here. Take you from behind while you watch us in the mirror. Is that something that turns you on Angel?" and at that my body betrays me and squeezes his cock, giving him the answer that he already knew would be true. "Fuck, you're incredible" he says, raking his eye up my form before meeting them in the mirror. 

"Keep quiet for me yeah? Wouldn't want anyone to know that you're taking my cock so well while your husband is outside now would we?" he says, trailing his hand up my back and finally untying the last two ties that are keeping my top on. "Or don't. I would love for them to hear what you sound like while you scream my name and beg for more but I don't think you want that now do you Princess?" he asks while placing a kiss on my neck. 

"N-no" I stutter out, knowing better than to not respond this time. He reaches his arm around and pulls me back up with his hand on my throat and makes me make eye contact with him through the mirror. "Then be good and cum on this cock. Can you do that?" he questions and I nod, not trusting my voice this time with the way he's rubbing up against my walls at this angle. 

He lets go of my throat and leaves me reaching out my arms to brace myself, my knuckle white from how hard I'm holding on and seconds later he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside before slamming into me, making me go on my tip toes from the force. He drills into me unapologetically while watching my face contort in pleasure through the mirror. 

I can't hold back and I end up letting out barely audible whimpers while he continues to abuse my aching cunt, already close to release. "Fuck Angel loosen up I can barely move" he grunts while I grip his dick so well, seconds from tipping over. "Cum" he growls in my ear and that's the last push I need to lose myself in the feeling, letting out a choked back sob and squirting all over him. 

"Shit" he grunts and picks up the pace of his thrusts, fucking me through my high and tipping himself over to reach his a minute later and he grabs onto my throat again, his other hand on my hip thrusting a few more times until he's spent and both of our releases are dripping out of me. 

"Fuck Princess I didn't know you could squirt" he says while roaming his hands up and down my body, touching me as much as he can before I push him off seconds later when that post nut clarity hits.

"Get out" I choke out, trying to calm myself down and bring my breathing back down to normal. "See you soon love" he says, placing a kiss on my shoulder before walking out. Not bothering to look around to see if anyone might see him leaving.  

I take a deep breath and turn on the shower, getting in and not bothering to wait for the water to heat up, letting myself deal with the chill it brings to my warm skin.

Standing with my face under the stream I try to drown out all the memories of what just happened and how I just let him do that to me. Why do I always just let him get his way? 

I can't keep doing this. I have to tell someone because this secret is suffocating me. 

If I keep it in much longer I don't know what'll become of the person I once was. 

I need to stop this, everything just needs to stop.   

Read the series from the beginning

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)