#(( i apologize on behalf of my brain for that ))

[hellonerf]

YOUR ART AND YOUR METAAAAQA

killing myself (complimentary) I so badly wanted to talk about caname back in the day but there were so few troopers around. Every post you make is a 10/10 hit this is awesome

have you ever written mapletea/can and Eng meta? would love to read ur thoughts

thank you so much ☺️ i am a #CanameTrooper i also didn't find a lot of caname(and in the way i rly liked it) when i first got into hetalia and it probably made me more obsessive about it

i do like mapletea/canengcan but in my mind it keeps ending up being used to elevate caname somehow Sorry im sorry mapletea fans. there was a time where i got mad when i saw it because it drove my otp heart crazy with rage. mostly because i kept seeing things where they'd focus a lot on cana->eng and ame->eng but didn't do anything with caname and it pissed me off so much it was borderline a notp at one point. im healed now 😇 so i do like it 😇

i don't have much thoughts about it you wouldn't get from people who are more invested in it. it's funny how much eng kinda doesn't care about cana compared to how much he cares about ame. maybe less funny but really sad actually. but do you see what i mean i keep using it for caname like i think cana's envy keeps wrapping back around to be about ame somehow sorry This is my sick and twisted mind

i honestly think cana is even more unreciprocated in mapletea. like cana is less cucked in caname and caname is the cuckoldry ship to me. so i guess mapletea would be The the cuckoldry ship then

cana does care a lot A lot about getting england's attention. maybe in someways or sometimes even more than he cares about getting america's attention(breaks my OTP heart but i can't live in denial)(don't like this post if you don't agree with cana->ame insanity)(though it's probably because it's actually less of a concern how much of america's attention he gets?#DelusionOrTrue) so i do think there's a bit of a rivalry in caname for that. it's less lively than it sounds because i think all sides of ace are dead empty air. and any feelings of rivalry or the neglect that causes it would be because of how england himself has treated them since they were young 😮 so😮what a shit family 😕 satan's triangle...

the dynamic in mapletea is rly up my alley for me to be interested in but caname got me first. and i got petty about it. sorry. i do want to draw it sometimes so Maybe Someday...

cana can't make up his mind about who's attention he wants to cry about not getting. what's his problem? what is his deal?

[moongothic]

Do wanna say, I am actually really curious how Iva-chan would feel if the Dragodile Divorce went REAL BAD

'Cause they didn't know the two were in a relationship at all, right. (Otherwise, like, if Iva-chan knows about Crocodile having a kid then surely they'd realize that would've also been Dragon's kid and like. Understands that's Luffy etc) So as far as Iva-chan understands the situation, Crocodile may have been secretly slightly involved with the Revolutionaries for a period of time, had a kid out of the blue, transitioned, and either immidiately broke ties with the Revs entirely and fucked off to Alabasta, or kept on assisting the Revs in secret (possibly monetarily, being a sugar daddy and all 💰🐊💰) for however long in secret, only to pretty much betray them out of nowhere by attempting to take over Alabasta 17 years later Either way, surely Ivankov would've been deeply confused by this turn of events, right? Like what happened to him, why would Crocodile do any of this?

But if the straw that broke the camel's back and shattered Crocodile's psyche was the Dragodile Divorce going really bad, either from Dragon not being that accepting OR due to things going violent over a miscommunication... How would Ivankov feel about that?

Keep in mind, we've only ever heard Iva-chan talk about Dragon with nothing but adoration and respect. They sincerely hold Dragon in such high regard, can you imagine how badly either revelation could change how Iva-chan's views Dragon? 'Cause like, sure if Dragon's straight then that's one thing, but lashing out at his loved one? When he came out? At what might've been the most emotionally vunerable time of Crocodile's life (between the transing and the baby and having to leave his son forever. Y'know. Heavy shit)? Yeah, frankly speaking, Iva-chan would be completely justified in slapping the shit out of Dragon and giving him some choise words. Perhaps even some 💉 Karmic Punishment 💉 to teach a lesson Feeling disappointed in Dragon would be an understatement. But even if The Divorce happened due to a tragic accident (of Dragon attacking the strange man he has never seen before out of instinct when going to see his wife and child), it's been nearly two whole decades. Have the two even spoken since then? Like presumably not considdering Crocodile didn't even know who Luffy was. So if they haven't spoken at all-- did Dragon ever apologize? Or was he that much of a coward he couldn't face Croc and take responsibility for what he did? If so, that is absolutely pathetic and frankly irresponsible considdering the feelings he would've left Crocodile festering with.

Like either way, I'm deeply facinated how Iva-chan would take the news. How that could impact their relationship with Dragon, as well as how they've viewed Crocoboy for the past few years as well.

Because suddenly Crocoboy didn't just go bonkers out of nowhere, abandon and betray the Revolutionaries to try to do something monstrous for selfish gain. Suddenly, it was Dragon who abandoned Crocodile and left him all alone for nearly two decades, believing obtaining an Ancient Weapon was the only way to take down the World Government. Countless innocent lives that perhaps could've been spared in Alabasta had Dragon just fucking talked to his ex--

Yeah. I'm curious how Iva-chan would feel

[the5n00k]

Do you ever have a show you thought you'd only watch casually and then it grasps you suddenly and tightly with the grace and subtlety of the demon core

[kiyoomiee]

part one. part two. part three. part four.

boxer!sukuna who’s been in the training room for hours now. Sweat trickled all over his body as his arms never stopped swinging.

“Sukuna, you’ve been here for more than an hour now. That punching bag will break any moment.” Toji voiced out as he walked in.

“What’s wrong with you?” He tried to ask Sukuna.

“She’s mad at me. Been ignoring me for two days now.” Sukuna dropped his arms and sulked. Fucking hell, he misses you so much.

“Ah that pretty doll? Couldn’t imagine her staying mad that long with your annoying ass.”

“She’s my pretty doll. Don’t call her that.” Sukuna grumbled at Toji but the man ignored him.

“What’d you do?”

“Her medical director was being a misogynistic ass, so I punched him on her behalf.” Sukuna smirked, remembering how gratifying it was to punch the bastard in the face.

“Heh, would’ve done the same if I was there. But didn’t it occur to you that she might not want you to fight her battles for her?”

“Why wouldn’t she? I could send that man in a hospital without even breaking a sweat.”

“That’s exactly why asshole. Besides, you’ve seen how she handles herself in her own field. So go apologize instead of breaking our goddamn equipment.”

boxer!sukuna who corners you in your office so you can’t avoid him anymore. Locking the door close and closing the blinds so nobody could interfere. He went looking for you right after finishing his shower.

“We need to talk.”

“Not here Sukuna, I’m working. And I don’t want to talk to you right now.” You can see where this was going, tears already threatened to fall in the corners of your eyes.

“No. We need to talk right now, or else I’ll go crazy-“

“You’re going crazy? You haven’t talked to me in two days Sukuna. Now you’ll stroll in here and break up with me?”

“Break up?“ What the hell?

“Can’t handle the emotional part of the relationship? I should’ve known since you’re-“

“Since I’m what?” His voice was loud and angry. It was the first time he got mad at you.

“How could I even dare to break up with you when you’re constantly in my mind? When I’m trying my best just so you could notice me? When I’d surrender at your feet if you’d only say the word? I’ve pursued you for months and waited for you to see me. Even with countless rejections, I would’ve continued to wait for the rest of my life as long as there’s no ring on your finger yet. God, my infatuation even turned into obsession.” He sounds dejected as he chuckled to himself in pity.

“Now you’re saying I’m here to break up with you? No baby, I’m here to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness. Because I’ll lose my goddamn mind if I don’t have your attention on me even in a split second. Why can’t you see it? I’m so fucking in love with you that the thought of leaving wouldn’t even cross my mind.” He continued on and sighed in agony.

“Y-You’re what?” You were stunned. It was the first time he said that three lettered word.

“I love you so fucking much. So please, I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I shouldn’t have interfered because I know you could stand up for yourself. But I can’t say I regret punching that motherfucker in the face.”

“I know you won’t, ‘kuna.”

“Fuck, don’t cry baby. I’m sorry I was an asshole.” He got on his knees and wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. You leaned into the warmth of his touch.

“Yeah but thanks to your little stunt, that man was fired and I won’t have to deal with his misogynistic comments anymore.” You just finished talking to the higher ups and the HR a while ago, they assured you that they’ll handle the case and that your medical director will be terminated immediately.

“I’m sorry too Sukuna, for avoiding and ignoring you. I should’ve reached out to you sooner.”

“No, it was my fault. I should’ve reached out. It won’t happen again baby, I promise.”

“Ryo.” You called him and caressed his face.

“Hmm?”

“I love you too.” His brain stopped functioning when he heard you say that.

“A-Are you sure? I’m not pressuring you just because I said it earlier-“ Ears turning red, he was now flustered and asked just to make sure he heard it correctly.

“I love you Ryomen Sukuna, I’m very sure.” You expressed lovingly, together with a quick peck on his lips.

“You sure know how to make me crazy for you, sweetheart.”

[goorgeousz]

emily mentions your underwear once and your brain short circuits

drabble

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!reader

content/tw: alcohol, mentions of underwears, reader wears a g-string, spencer gets super flustered, emily and reader flirt around like derek and garcia

a/n: I’ve listened to “guess” over 15 times in a row yesterday and this scenario keept popping up in my mind. anyways, hope you enjoy it <3

part two here

masterlist

dividers by @uzmacchiato

“Ugh. Why do men.” you groaned, placing your phone back down on the table after checking your new notification.

“What did he say now?” Garcia asked, leaning towards you.

“He asked me the color of my underwear.” you handed her the phone. Morgan and Reid, on each of her sides, leaned closer to see the text, in amusement and disgust, respectively.

“Reid, why do men seem to be so fascinated with women’s clothing?” Emily asked him.

“This is not… exactly my…field of expertise.” he started, blushing slightly, but excited as he always gets when someone encourages his ramblings. “But I do think it’s similar to the thought of people preferring privacy accounts over porn videos. It adds a level of intimacy and personal connection to the fantasy. He could just… masturbate thinking about you or looking for a picture. But when he asks you this, he’s bringing you into his imagination, making you actively participate in it. That’s my take, I think.” he shrugged.

“That’s… very smart.” you state, amazed. He smiles. “But I still think men are horrible. Terrible.”

“Don’t generalize.” Morgan pointed out, which earned him eye rolling from you, Emily and Penelope “Okay, okay!” he raised his hands in mock surrender “I’ll get another round of shots to apologize on our behalf.”

That earned him a kiss on the cheek from Garcia. She followed him toward the bar, leaving on the table only you, Spencer and Emily.

“I still don’t see the appeal. It doesn’t turn me on thinking about what kind of clothing he has on right now.”

“Well, women's undergarments are much more attractive than men’s.” Spender answers to you, blushing again furiously

“Let’s test that theory.” Emily suggests, turning her body completely towards you.

Mirroring her move, you turned on your seat to face her “What’s the color of your underwear?” you asked between giggles, trying (and failing) to make your voice sound low and sexy.

Emily, on the other hand, managed to bite back a laugh just fine, her amused smile turning into a smug smirk in a second. She leaned in, “I’m wearing a dark purple lace bra. It has a white bow between my… you know.” she winked.

Instantly you felt your mouth dry, the loud music from the bar faded away and it was only you and her. And her dark purple lace bra. You and her are used to jokingly flirting here and there, but, for some reason, it never actually felt real until that moment.

Your mind went blank, the only thing you could come up with was “Yeah?”

Her smirk grew, like she knew what it was doing to you “Mhmm. And it’s a set. My underwear is just like my bra: dark purple and lace, with the white little bow on the top. A g-string, just like yours.”

And that’s when you collapsed. Your eyes widened slightly, your face heating like she just slapped you.

Then, she switched it off. Her teasing posture was gone and she laughed loudly. Because you had no idea what just happened or what to do, you laughed with her, but clearly fakely. She turned towards Reid, whose eyes were about to pop out of his head, his face somehow redder than yours.

“I see the appeal.” she confessed to him, like she wanted him to add that to his database.

“Woah, what happened here? Why does Reid look like he just got a second-degree burn?” Morgan asked, setting the five glass shots on the table.

“They were flirting. Again. Guys, you know it breaks Reid.” Garcia chimed in, placing down a little plate with salt and lemon slices.

“Leave the foreplay to the bedroom, Misses.” he added, giving you a teasing wink.

“Oh, I wish. She likes boys.” Emily said, putting salt on her wrist before turning to you with a knowing smirk “But she knows I’d hit it.”

[asce-of-hearts]

Hsr yan! jing yuan with jealousy smut after a new recruit decided to talk to reader. Imagine the way he leaves bite marks and bruises all over your body in places that can never be hidden. Not him leaving a hickey on the ring finger like the jelly possessive bastard he is. Not him leaving a bite mark on the neck like it was a collar and the sly happy looks he gives when you're forced to awkwardly wear a scarf or when you have to wear a ring to cover up that hickey. I'm goin way to crazy with my yan jing yuan head cannons but all i want for christmas is yan jing yuan. So pretty plsss?

Possession

Contents: Yan!Jing Yuan jealousy smut scenario (gn!reader)

more Jing Yuan content here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: SORT OF SPOUSE READER, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, SOFT YANDERE, OBSESSIVE AND POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, NSFW, JEALOUSY, PENETRATIVE SEX, BITING AND MARKING, HICKEYS.

You interacting with others wasn't a crime, for sure.

It's just that for the general, it's nothing short of... sacrilegious. You know your duties, and you know them well. Your arrangement isn't precisely a secret, you might as well call it marriage. You live together, you sleep together, you do everything together. Because that's what people who love each other do. And he loves it, loves you. What he doesn't love as much is the fact that you can't reduce all of your human interaction to him, and him only.

It's not unusual when you go and leave him something to eat. The beast of a man needs to keep his calorie intake intact or he comes home... cranky to put it nicely. And he loves it, it's like a proof of ownership. The nice part of his brain thinks it's a nice gesture, kindness from your behalf melts him, the other half, thinks it's anything but innocent to have you servicing him, even in the smallest ways.

So when you greet him, under him on the first floor of the commission building, he already feels something strange bubbling in the pit of his stomach. And he can't help but want to grin, instead offering you that lazy, seductive smile he often wears around you. Just as you're about to walk over to him, a spear his placed in front of your body, making you freeze in place.

"What business do you have here? And what are you carrying?" You seem puzzled, in all of your years doing this you have never once been questioned, everyone just seems to know the generals partner. So you, naturally, hesitate and stumble over your words as the knight questions you.

"Ah- Well. I just, uhm, came to deliver something to the general," You stutter, trying to control yourself, weapons make you uneasy, as uneasy as anyone else would be. "His- his lunch to be precise."

"His lunch? Why for? How am I sure that isn't poisoned?" He asks, an accusatory look crossing his eyes. And you feel nervous, words bubbling up in your throat but ultimately never leaving. Then you feel it, the soft touch, the warm hand placed over the small of your back as a tall man completely towers over you. You seem to have forgotten how tall he is, always having to look up to face him.

"I'm sure my beloved ___ wouldn't poison my food, or would you, dearest?" Jing Yuan purrs in your ear, and you and the night both feel your breaths hitching. The silence is deafening, everyone looking at you. "Forgetting about that, I think I would appreciate if you stopped pointing your spear at the vital and quite fragile organs of the stomach of my beloved spouse. Would you be a lamb about it, recruit?" He says, the menace in his words palpable. Of course he isn't familiar, it makes sense now, the fact that he didn't recognize you. A new recruit who has just gotten his station at the building. The young man quickly pulls his spear back, and apologizes with a vow. It all should've ended there.

But it didn't, of course it didn't.

Jing Yuan has you bent over his desk, the one inside his private meeting room, not the one on the front. He wouldn't be able to bear others looking at your naked skin, even as he claims ownership over you. His pace is relentless, wild, his hair sticking to his forehead as he sweats.

"Did you see the way he looked at you?" He hisses, hands gripping your hips with a bruising strength. You can't even answer, too lost in the sensation of his broad body engulfing yours as he continues to ravage your insides. His balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. "With hunger- With... with longing. Foolish, you're mine. Only I can look at you like that." He's talking to himself, then sucking another angry mark over your neck, purple and red bruise-like marks littering your skin like a sin. And you can't do anything about it, and about the way he flips you over. Now against the wall, his cock still piledriving your insides like he wants to bruise them as well. When you throw your head back, he sucks at the delicate skin of your throat, your windpipe. And he grins. "There, now everyone can see who you are, what you are. You are mine, ___. Aren't you?"

He sounds manic, detached, like a man possessed. You can only nod, cumming around his cock one last time.

"Of course you are. My ___, my only one."

hope you enjoyed this!!!

have a great/day night!!!

COMISSIONS INFO

TAGGING: @goldenglow149. @rania200527 @kitzusune @lakxcpsta @chercheryblossomsweet

@houchan @eeelieschariot @hannas16 @mokingbrd78k @janeisnotonline

Want to know when I release another fic? Join the TAG LIST

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

Can I request a Friends to lovers with chaewon. Where chaewon has been simping and trying to ask out y/n for years to the point that she formally asks y/n's parents if she can date him, whereas Y/N keeps rejecting her over and over because they think that chaewon is joking?

“Not Joking, Never Was”

Synopsis: You’ve known Chaewon forever—bold, mischievous, and hopelessly devoted. Despite her obvious feelings and even asking your parents for permission to date you, you keep brushing her off, thinking she’s joking.

Word Count: 1,234

Kim Chaewon X Male Reader

You’ve always known Chaewon.

From crawling around on the carpet as toddlers while your parents had dinner upstairs, to making sandcastles at beach trips where she'd declare, “This is our kingdom, and I’m the queen—so you have to marry me.”

You laughed. You always did.

She was loud. You were quiet.

She climbed trees, picked fights with boys twice her size, and never sat still.

You read books under playground slides and apologized on her behalf more than once.

It stayed that way for a long time.

Until middle school, when you stood between her and some smug upperclassmen calling her names.

"Nobody messes with my Chaewon."

You didn’t think much of it.

But she did.

She held onto that line like it was scripture.

Still brings it up when she's tipsy. Or clingy. Or both.

Now you're both in college.

You’re a med student—stressed, over-caffeinated, and perpetually behind on sleep.

Chaewon’s in law—sharp, eloquent, and somehow always has time for you.

She still calls you her hero.

Still shows up with snacks in her bag labeled: “Y/N’s Brain Fuel”

Still slips you folded letters in your anatomy books with lines like:

“I’d defend you in court even if you were guilty 🧡”

“Studying your face > studying the law.”

You pretend not to notice the hearts she draws next to your name.

During a big debate competition, she’s in the front row, clapping aggressively while the rest of the hall holds a respectful silence. You’re mid-argument about medical ethics when you hear it:

“GO GET HIM, Y/N!”

The room turns.

You close your eyes.

Later, backstage, you hiss, "Chaewon, you can’t yell in debates."

She just grins, holding up a water bottle and your favorite chocolate bar.

“But you did so good. You looked like a hot professor up there.”

“You’re so weird.”

You try to sound annoyed, but your smile betrays you.

She shrugs. “Weird for you, maybe.”

Your friends are sick of you.

"Dude, can't you see the bigger picture here?"

Jisoo’s half-pouting, half-smacking your arm with a rolled-up worksheet. "She's everyone’s dream girl, and SHE—" he jabs a finger at your chest, "—likes YOU. YOU, Y/N. YOU."

You yawn, flipping to the next page of your notes.

“She’s joking. She’s always been the mischievous type.”

From across the table, Haechan lets out a sharp sigh.

“Nah, man. Whatever.”

He mumbles something that suspiciously sounds like “dumbass” into his can of soda.

“Hey Y/N!”

You don’t even flinch when you hear her shout.

And like clockwork, Chaewon comes flying into your arms, full force, like you’re her personal gravity. You stagger a little but catch her anyway—one arm around her back, the other bracing her thigh because of course she jumped from somewhere ridiculous again.

Her arms sling around your neck. Her cheek squishes against yours.

"You catch me so naturally. Are you sure we're not soulmates?"

You grunt.

“One day you’re gonna break your ankle.”

“One day you’re gonna realize I’m in love with you.”

She’s smiling when she says it, so you laugh. Because she’s always like this.

“Studying real hard, eh?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows as you finally let her down.

“Yeah. You?”

“Just some assessments. Nothing my good ol’ brain can’t handle.”

She taps her temple dramatically, then pulls out a chocolate bar from her tote.

“I got this for you, by the way. Brain fuel. Only for my favorite med nerd.”

You eye the snack.

“You gave me one yesterday.”

“Because I love you.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean—I love giving you snacks, obviously.” She corrects herself with a forced cough and a quick wink, then skips ahead a few steps to hide the blush threatening her cheeks.

Your other friends witness the whole thing from a bench nearby.

Haechan sighs again.

“They’re so stupid it physically hurts.”

Jisoo, deadpan: “I hope they both trip and fall into love. Literally.”

Not so long after, about a week.

It was supposed to be a normal weekend dinner—Chaewon helping your mom with the japchae, your dad grilling outside while you were still upstairs reviewing notes. But unbeknownst to you, something very Chaewon was brewing in the kitchen.

She wiped her hands on a towel, suddenly serious. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N?”

Your mom looked up from slicing fruit. Your dad paused with the tongs mid-air.

“Yes, Chaewon?” your mom smiled, half-expecting another request for more garlic.

Chaewon inhaled deeply, clasping her hands together. “I want to ask something kinda big.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“I’ve been in love with Y/N since middle school.” She said it plainly, with no theatrics. “And I know I joke around a lot, but I’m serious now. I really like him. I always have. So...” She cleared her throat. “I wanted to ask if I could have your blessing to ask him out. Properly.”

Silence.

Then your mom started grinning. “Oh sweetheart, of course.”

Your dad just chuckled, shaking his head. “Took you long enough. We were wondering when you’d get around to it.”

Chaewon blinked. “Wait—so you’re not surprised?”

“You’ve been calling him your Y/N since you were eleven, sweetie,” your mom said with a wink.

And upstairs, you sneezed—blissfully unaware of the chaos about to reach your doorstep.

Your phone buzzes just as you’re about to close your eyes.

A message from Chaewon:

“Hey, just talked to your parents earlier. They’re cool with me asking you out. No big deal.”

You stare at the screen, blinking.

No big deal?

You type back slowly:

“Wait… what??”

Almost instantly, your phone rings.

You answer, and her voice is soft but teasing, like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.

“So… when should I pick you up for our first date, Y/N?”

You cough, trying to keep it casual, but fail miserably.

“You… talked to my parents?”

“Yup. Figured I’d get their permission first—don’t want to cause a scene.”

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Only you would do that.”

“Of course. I like doing things the Chaewon way.” She giggles.

“So… should I clear my schedule next weekend?”

You bite your lip, feeling your heart speed up.

“Guess I don’t have much of a choice, huh?”

“You do. You can say yes.”

“Okay.”

“That’s what I thought.” She grins through the phone.

You can’t help but smile as you lie back on your pillow, suddenly feeling like this might be the start of something really, really good.

A few days after that late-night call, you find yourself sitting beside Chaewon on a quiet bench outside campus. The sun’s setting, casting a warm glow around you both.

She’s fiddling with a stray thread on her sleeve, looking a little nervous—unusual for her.

You clear your throat, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You know,” you say slowly, “maybe… maybe I was wrong all this time.”

She looks up, eyes curious.

“About what?”

“About you joking.” You smile shyly. “You’re not joking. You’ve always been serious.”

Chaewon’s face softens, a genuine smile spreading across her lips.

“So, what does that mean?”

You take a breath, meeting her gaze steadily.

“It means… maybe I’m ready to give this a shot. With you.”

She beams, like the sun just came out from behind the clouds.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that.”

You laugh quietly, heart fluttering.

“Guess we’re both a little late, huh?”

“Better late than never.”

[sightseertrespasser]

Odds of Survival apart 7

Welcome aboard the Lost Light! Where nothing stressful ever happens.

Working back into longer chapters. Credit to @keferon for creating the AU. Enjoy!

———————————————————————

Spaceship spaceship spaceship that is a mother fucking spaceship.

Somewhere within the poor rattled jelly of his brain, eight year old Jazz was screaming and jumping and slapping his adult self’s shoulder to start doing the happy dance.

Instead, he reached out a hand to clasp Prowls shoulder. “Hoooly shit!”

Music.

He needed music. The Superman theme? No. Interstellar? Nah, something more energetic. Star Wars? Closer. Jurassic Park? Yes.

As Jazz began playing the introductory notes to the Jurassic Park theme, he had the presence of mind to take a screen capture to show Hot Rod later. Jazz was mech-crazy but Roddy was all about spaceships and this was something straight out of a comic book brought to life.

The Lost Light, as best Jazz could translate, was a thing of beauty. Mango sherbet sunlight spilling over the horizon painted the ships white exterior peach and cream. It had these spine? Thingy’s? Rising from the back. Jazz had no idea what for but they looked awesome. Massive thrusters slowed its decent onto the moons surface, kicking up enough glittery dust to make everything around it sparkle like a goddamn anime filter.

Bluestreak was saying something in his native language again. Clearly shocked and ranting at his brother.

“Blue, if you’re gonna talk about someone in the room, it’s polite to do it in a language they understand. Ya know? ‘Specially so they don’t make any assumptions when they hear Prowl, Jazz, and Frag in that order.” He inclined his head towards the mecha in question but didn’t look away from the ship.

“I am so sorry!” Jazz gave it fifty-fifty he was also talking to Prowl.

“It was just! You grabbed Prowl and trust me no one actually gets away with that if he does not want to be touched by someone. Which is almost everyone. I mean, even {Smokey} and I can only get away with it on a good day. Or if I blackmail him about the time he blew me up. Even then we’ve known each other for vorns and he met you like a cycle ago?! And I’m also kinda loosing my mind right now because you are SO weird and oh Primus I didn’t mean to call you that, you’re a really cool mech I just think you’ve got a really messed up home life and that just sounds like another insult doesn’t it? Did I tell you I talk a lot when I’m nervous because I talk a lot normally so you’d think I’m nervous all the time but really I’m not nervous all the time it’s just that when I actually get nervous I really really start talking a lot and are you flirting with Prowl because I think you’re flirting with Prowl even though he said you weren’t but I think he’s just in denial since he keeps letting you do stuff like touching him without warning.”

“BLUESTREAK.” Prowl ground out a shout through clenched teeth.

The sniper snapped a hand over his mouth. Eyes wide and wings pinned low. In stark contrast to Prowl, who had his own wings flared high and wide. Both brothers were wide eyed in utter mortification.

“Go.” He paused, lightly removing Jazz’s hand. “Go to the ship. That is an order.”

Bluestreak skedaddled, keeping one hand firmly over his mouth and giving a firm thumbs up with the other.

Jazz knew there was no way that would actually stop him from talking, but he really appreciated it when a pilot could commit to the bit. He snort chuckled.

“I apologize greatly on behalf of my brother. He meant no offense. And please disregard anything he might have..” Prowl looked like he wanted to cough discreetly. “Implied.”

They walked together towards the airlock outside. Waiting for Bluestreak to exit before they could go next.

“Do you mean when he implied I have a slaggy home life or the bit about you liking me?”

He watched Prowls face twitch a bit. He was standing military inspection straight, hands tightly clasped behind his back and pointedly not looking at Jazz.

“Cause I wasn’t flirting on purpose.” Prowl did not break eye contact with the wall, but Jazz caught his wings dip imperceptibly.

“When I grabbed your shoulder.” Jazz hummed.

Ope. Made ya look.

Prowl glanced back to the wall, before apparently deciding there wasn’t much point in ignoring Jazz. Smart man.

He turned more fully back to Jazz, face focused but a hint more open then before.

“Slaggy isn’t really a- that’s not how the grammar is used for-“ Prowl rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Jazz, do like how you are treated where you are from?”

Oh, well shit. He silenced the movie soundtrack, thinking. Felt the horns pin back.

“When you joined your group, how much did it hurt?”

Prowl didn’t immediately respond. Considering his question for a long breath.

When he finally spoke, it was quieter than before. “Pain is relative, and I believe certain aspects of the process are idiotic and pointless, but to try and answer your question; it hurt less than what it was worth.”

Jazz watched the lights cycle on the door as it re-pressurized.

“Same.”

They stood together before the way out.

“Though, from the looks of it, you guys are in much better shape than us. I kinda thought we were the best of the best. But I’m starting to think there’s a lot they weren’t telling us.”

The airlock hissed open, and the two stepped inside.

“You can stay. If you choose.” Prowl shuffled back into a parade rest, hiding behind formality. “You do not have to go back to those people.”

Jazz smiled deep within his mech, and lightly bumped his unwitting guide to the galaxy. “Prowler! Really now, flirting at a time like this? How unprofessional.”

Goddamn it was mean, but holy hell it was just too much fun to fluster a man like Prowl.

“You are completely insufferable.” Points to Bluestreak, when Jazz asked him for a bunch of keywords Prowl would probably use, unprofessional and insufferable were some of the first he taught him.

“I am trying to help you. I have been trying to help you this entire time and you have constantly managed to find entirely new ways of making my head hurt.” Prowl had finally dropped the act and was waving his arms emphatically.

“M’kay.” Jazz nodded along. “Would you like my number?”

Prowl made a face like he was mentally blue-screening again. “I… Yes. Yes that would actually be very helpful.”

“I’m happy to help!” And Jazz rattled off his personal phone number for the burner cell he wasn’t necessarily supposed to have.

“Thank you?” Prowl said with an entirely new flavor of confusion. “Jazz what is-“ Prowl was cut off by the airlock’s depressurization.

He could not wait to get that man to a rec room. His mecha was built shorter than Jazz’s, but he had this weird total confidence that Prowl was somehow taller than him.

Jazz stepped out onto the moons surface, letting the last notes to the Jurassic Park theme finally play out, stopping briefly to once again admire the insanity of the situation. He liked to focus on the good when it was front and center, because he had a pretty clear idea of how bad the bad could be.

A dull stone of dread settled in his stomach.

Disconnecting was gonna suck. Pretty sure he didn’t have a full blown concussion at least. Hard to tell with the drift link suppressing most of the “oh fuck ow stop that” signals his body was almost certainly sending him. He felt basically fine though, so he could get away with pushing it back just a little further.

Probably.

The medics here didn’t know his rep either, so even on an unfamiliar base, Jazz gave it two minutes max before he’d be in their walls.

Prowl appeared in his peripheral vision and motioned for Jazz to follow.

The closer they got to the Lost Light, the more the feelings of Awe transitioned into Vertigo. This thing was fucking massive up close. Upon reaching the outer airlock door, Jazz found he couldn’t touch the molding at the top. Maybe if he climbed onto Prowls shoulders though?

Before he could poke that particular bear, the door opened and Jazz was ushered in. As soon as the atmosphere returned, Prowl was on his case.

“Jazz it is of the utmost importance that you behave yourself. I will handle your introduction to my immediate superior. Please refrain from any overly familiar behavior.” Prowl wasn’t doing the no eye contact-parade rest pose but actually looking at him properly.

“Don’t embarrass you in front of your boss, I got you boo.” He clapped Prowl on the shoulder for emphasis and watched his wing things do a little dance.

Oh those things definitely got hard wired into his neural net by accident didn’t they? Wonder how he deals with the phantom limb syndrome.

Jazz himself walked like a, quote “new born deer that just took a shot of fireball” per Rico, every time he disconnected from his mecha after too long.

“Please refrain from touching me until further notice.” Prowl tacked on as the doors slid open.

—————

Something was off.

It started in the hallway but the sensation didn’t fade. Like when you get home and vaguely smelled something had gone bad, but it was so faint you could barely remember it was there. So you search the fridge, the trash, yadda yadda yadda because you know it’s there. Even if you’ve gotten used to the smell and can only imagine what’s wrong based off of a poorly informed memory of the thing.

The interior of the ship looked off. But in a way he just couldn’t put his finger on.

Jazz was vaguely aware he’d been getting a little loopier ever since him and Prowl went tumbling down Crash Mountain.

Truth be told, he’s been off his game ever since Prowl found him.

Shit, how long had he been piloting actually?

Let’s see.

He woke up this morning on the mecha program space station, got to piloting, ran maybe a couple hours of tests? Then space tore itself a new one, Jazz tore that alien a new one, got teleported, scared the fuck out of Tentacle Monster Mission Control, got teleported again for much longer, passed out, woke up, spent the better part of a day traveling with Prowl and oh fuck me I haven’t eaten or drunk anything in at least 14 hours.

Now that he was thinking about it, the dull ache in his skull felt more like dehydration than blunt force trauma.

Wait. No. Concentrate.

Something about this place was off. It wasn’t just in his head. He just needed to focus for more than - woah that’s a lot of mecha.

Mechanical forms hurried along massive hallways. Vehicles abounded as well and Jazz had to make and effort not to trip on any. Prowl had gotten a hold of his arm at some point and was half supporting half guiding Jazz through the hall.

“You said no touching.” Jazz crooned in a singsong voice.

“You’re going to fall on someone.” Prowl was making a face that had every passing mecha pointedly not make eye contact.

“Am not.” And Jazz went a little limp just to fuck with him.

Prowl left little space for Jazz to wander or wonder. He’d catch a glimpse of a rooms interior or another fantastic mecha only to be pulled along before his gaze could linger.

Jesus this place was huge. And detailed. Lots of GNDN lookin’ pipes, wires and greebles across every surface. After what felt like walking through every spaceship movie set at once, Prowl pulled him into a room with red cross markings on the doors.

Inside, the room hosted a number of high tech (pillowed?) tables and a truly ridiculous number of tools. Half of them looked suited for body shop work, welders and wrenches and the like. While the other half resembled supersized computer repair kits.

Why is everything huge? They don’t. They don’t seriously have the pilots handle the repairs while in their mecha do they?

Sure Prowl did some basic repair stuff earlier, but that was mid battle support. It made sense.

Speak of the distracting devil, Prowl was addressing somebody while Jazz was ogling a 30ft tall filing cabinet.

Two mecha were at the other end of the room.

One was teal and standing, tapping away at a super-sized tablet. They had a face -something is off- that turned to them warmly, taking in their battered mecha.

The other one was neon alien blood green. Sat on a table, they were wiping their face off with a cloth, revealing a hot pink paint job. Their other hand rested on a severed and charred alien head missing most of the fleshy bits. They tossed the cloth in a bin and locked onto Jazz with a face that promised fucking death.

Hot Pink said something formal and clipped in Prowls native language. Standing from the table and casually swinging the skull in one hand.

“Elita One,” Prowl dipped his head and wings. “This is Jazz. He has significant experience in batting quintesson forces. I have seen his capabilities firsthand and they are highly impressive. Currently, he is in need of medical treatment.”

The bloody one, Elita One, stalked up to Jazz. Raking over him with a critical eye. The pilot got a tingly sense of deja vu, like he got pushed back in time to when he first applied to the mecha program.

The lights hummed at a B flat pitch.

Onslaught, one of the first pilots and one of the few to live to retirement stood like a demon guarding the gates to Hell.

Jazz straightened up, squaring his shoulders.

“Sir, Striker one zero six one, {Pacific} Rim Defense, Callsign: Jazz, sir.”

Elita paused in her circling, however briefly, before returning to face him and Prowl once more.

“At ease.” She considered Jazz for only a moment longer, something like curiosity flickering before turning to Prowl, “Officer, I expect a full report from you on the bridge. Jazz is to not go anywhere on this ship without accompaniment. And I expect you to justify this situation to Red Alert.”

If Jazz hadn’t specifically been watching for it, anyone else would have missed the ever so slight way Prowl cringed at the order.

“Yes Captain. I volunteer to keep watch of Jazz and assume responsibility until a shift change can be approved.” D’awww. The machine has a heart.

“Request granted. Now, you have until I finish cleaning this skull to take care of any personal matters.” Elita hefted the thing for emphasis.

She locked onto Jazz once more, “Velocity will see to your injuries. You will comply with whatever treatment she deems appropriate. If you cause harm to her or any other member of my crew, I will rip off what’s left of your arm and beat you to death with it. Otherwise, remain here until Prowl comes to collect you. Is all that understood?”

I’m sorry can you repeat that middle bit? You said it so casually and in the same tone as everything else that I kinda blanked for a sec.

Instead, Jazz said, “Yes sir.”

Velocity stepped up, -their medic is a pilot- “If you’ll follow me, I can get you situated on the medical {berth} over here.”

Velocity paused as she was about to leave, like she’d just heard something. She turned and nodded to Prowl who returned the gesture, releasing Jazz in the process.

Velocity clasped her hands together and spoke to Jazz.

“I understand you might have a, ah, unique medical history. Would you be able to discuss any of that with me so I can better treat your injuries?”

Jazz hesitated.

Something is off.

“A moment in private, if you both would allow.” Prowl looked between the two other mecha. Elita was pretty much out the door and Velocity graciously left to gather the needed supplies. Prowl came closer to speak quietly.

“Jazz. You said some concerning things before regarding your previous experiences with medical treatment. Can you handle allowing Velocity to treat you?” He was doing the serious face again, one hand resting on Jazz’s working shoulder.

“Yeah. I mean, worst case scenario and I start freaking out you’ve got my permission to use force.” Prowls eyes got very wide at that.

“Which I won’t! I won’t!” He held up a hand placatingly. “I’m…not great with doctors, but it’s less the medical stuff itself and more..” Jazz made a so-so gesture.

“Feeling trapped?” He felt his horns pin down again.

Before he left the program, Ratchet had a whole system worked out. He did as much light treatment as he could with Jazz in public places like the cafeteria or in his apartment. Usually bringing in someone trusted like Rico around to distract and talk to him while Ratchet worked.

For full on surgery though, there wasn’t a lot of alternatives to turn to. White lights, white walls, dark shadows. The actual operating theater was the only option.

Ratchet, to his credit, never used restraints, which was usually enough to avoid triggering an episode if he worked fast. As far as drugs went, Jazz had a twilight stage between Fully Conscious and Out Cold called Fuck Where’d He Go that no one enjoyed playing.

He sighed.

“Look, I’m not hurt that bad. Just..” Jazz rubbed the back of his mechas head out of habit, “Give me a dim room and something cold for my head and I’ll be fine after I get something to drink.”

Prowl furrowed his brow, “Jazz, one of your arms is non functional. I implore you to let us help. You are concerned with feeling trapped, yes? If the door out of the room is left open, would that alleviate some of your fears?”

His visor twitched towards Prowl. Jazz stood very, very still.

Focus. Something is off. Focus.

“Yeah. I… I don’t want to be strapped down either. Or put to sleep.” Jazz focused on Prowl’s face. His mecha that had a face. The face that Prowl could chose not to use but is. Prowl looked like he was actively having to school his expression.

“No restraints. No sedatives. I will comm Velocity your requests and you may reiterate them at any time.” He let go of Jazz, who stepped back slightly.

Jazz watched him from within his mecha, only showing what he wanted to show. Prowl was watching him just as closely, but couldn’t hide that he was. Why can’t he hide it?

Something is off.

“Got it Prowler. See you soon!” Jazz left him with a cheery wave.

He needed to get his head on straight. It was starting to feel like he was high or something with the way everyone was talking about his mecha. There was the language barrier sure, but it didn’t account for whatever visual weirdness that was tickling his sense of uncanny valley.

With the specter of possible legitimate brain damage haunting his steps, Jazz walked towards where Velocity had gone, knocking on the doorway to get her attention. “Ready to go when you are doc.”

Velocity, who Jazz caught peeking around the corner during his little heart to heart with Prowl, at least had the gumption to not even pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping. He could at least appreciate when a doctor was honest about their bad habits.

“Right this way. I’ll be leaving just the interior door open for the sake of privacy if that’s alright. Prowl also noted you did not have a negative reaction to localized {anesthetic}.” She gestured to the chrome duct tape still on his shoulder.

Velocity led them back into the room with all the tables and the huge central computer terminal. “Lay down here, and I’ll get started. I’ll talk you through every step of what I’ll be doing.”

Jazz walked up to the table, and stared.

And stared.

“Uh.” He circled around the mecha cradle table thing. “How do I get down?”

Horizontal style cradles were a thing in like, New Zealand? But for the life of him Jazz couldn’t see where he was supposed to go.

Velocity raised an eyebrow. Speaking slowly she gestured to the table, “You sit in the middle, and then turn 90 degrees to set your upper and lower body on the berth. Laying down.”

Jazz looked between her and the “berth”, his brain skirting the very edge of the sink drain.

“Right, but after that is there a ladder or something? Do stairs pop out? Or are you actually going to lift me out of here?” Jazz squatted down, inspecting for some kind or catch or compartment or..

Or..

Something was off because there weren’t any.

Jazz felt every hair stand up on his body.

His brain fell down the drain.

He stood.

Carefully.

Nothing on this ship has been built to human proportions. Nothing.

“Jazz? Are you alright?”

The human turned to the giant robot.

“Hmm? I’m fine.” He hopped onto the berth with ease, looking relaxed. “Still learning Common. Just a little confused was all.”

Velocity blinked, “Oh well that’s understandable. It’s designed for communicating with organic alien life forms so the terminology can be a little strange sometimes.”

“Hah. Right.” Jazz stared at the ceiling.

Every drop of his blood was cold.

“Aliens.”

———————————————————————

It is truly a Jazz fic if he isn’t lying for his life and bouncing off the walls like a squirrel in a plastic bucket?

Next time, Prowl has a completely relaxing chapter all about petting Green. Yep.

Definitely.

- SSTP

<- First Next ->

[crymyeyesout1]

Set in their sights

poly!marauders 

Summary: The marauders are all in a poly relationship with each other and Lily when they all individually become interested in a shy hufflepuff in their year. What about this little hufflepuff makes them all feel complete? Will she return their affections?

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of smut, lots of fluff, very shy oc, mentions of child abuse. let me know if there are any more

PSA: this is my first time writing on tumblr so please be kind, I'm trying my best. And there is absolutely no peter in this story so sorry not sorry. Please let me know if you like it and if I should write more.

✩₊˚.⋆✩⋆⁺₊✩

James and Sirius were hurriedly making their way through the train; their lovers were already in the marauders designated compartment and they were running late. It would seem as if the two hadn’t seen them since their fifth  year ended just three months ago, but in reality it had been only five days since their shared boyfriend and girlfriend had departed from James’ home where they had spent almost the entire summer doing whatever they pleased. 

“Pads slow down you are going to run someone over” James pleaded with his boyfriend

“ Prongs please we are late and I’m not going to-” he was cut off by a body colliding with him square in the chest and falling over. He peered down to see a small girl and became almost immediately enamored with in his eyes she was the most adorable girl he’d ever seen to others she was almost odd looking her hair was mostly pitch black but around her face and peeking out a bit from the underneath was bright blonde and all of it was naturally curly. The girl was wearing a hufflepuff jumper that looked at least one size too big with a black skirt and sheer tights that had some kind of pattern to them, stars, Sirius recognized and on her feet lay black worn out combat boots. Sirius reached out his hand to help the poor girl up and for a few seconds she hesitated almost as if she was scared of what would happen if she did take his hand, which reluctantly she did. He carefully pulled her to her feet and as he did so he took quick notice of her eyes: they were a dark gray and dull like there was no life behind them, they were slightly sunken and were surrounded by deep dark blueish purple eye bags. Just by looking into them Sirius could tell she was sad and it broke his heart a part of him wanted to take this girl and hide her away from all the evils of the world that she had already seen. He wanted to be the reason the light returned to those eyes. His thoughts were going a million miles a minute when someone clears their throat dragging him back to reality. It was James, his boyfriend, how could he be so stupid as to be so caught up with this random girl that he completely blanked on his relationship. He had two boyfriends and a girlfriend already. What was he doing ogling this poor girl? 

“Hello there, sorry about this brute, he can’t pay attention to anything even if it's right in front of him” James quickly apologized to the poor girl on Sirius’ behalf.

“It's quite alright” a soft and dreamy voice came from the girl in front of them, James instantly took more notice of the girl completely understanding he boyfriends staring now. In just three words you had encapsulated him and he needed more.

“Well little love, I’m James Potter and can I tell you how much of a pleasure it is to run into you. Please you must tell me your name, little love.” The girl blushed furiously at the nickname and softly responded.

“Abigail Gaunt '' Her last name caused Sirius to freeze, flashes of his mothers teachings came flooding into his brain. The Gaunts were the last known descendant of Salazar Slytherin, but the last living Gaunt was put in azkaban for murder by means of the killing curse, an unforgivable. How was one standing in front of him, and how was she a hufflepuff, oh how he would love to see the look on his mothers face the last known heir of slytherin sorted into hufflepuff. Surely she couldn’t be in his year, his own sorting into gryffindor had caused uproar but this, this was a whole new level. James had seemed to notice the shock on Sirius’ face and had elbowed his arm, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“Oh I’m Sirius Black, but of course you already know that doll” he winked at her and if her face could have gotten any redder it would.

“Um well yes but um I-It's nice to m-m-meet you” she stuttered out trying with all her might to act normal but in her mind no she wasn’t normal not even in the slightest bit. But two fourths of the infamous marauders stood in front of her and were they? Merlin forbid they were flirting with her? 

Impossible, flirt with her? What were they thinking?

She tried to reason with herself when a beautiful voice filled the hall

“There you boys are Remus and I were starting to worry oh! Who is this?” The voice belonged to the one and only Lily Evans, every aspect of her was beautiful, it was no wonder she had the three most sought after boys in the school on her leash. And what was that last part, she had noticed the small hufflepuff standing with her boys. Abigail might as well have been on fire with how hot and red her cheeks were.

“Lily Pads! We were just on our way when Padfoot decided to tackle Abby here” he looked down at her and cocked his head to the right “ I can call you Abby right? Good because that what I’m calling you, Abby is so much cuter sounding than stuffy Abigail” The girl now newly nicknamed Abby gave a small squeak as the larger and very muscular boy wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him and gave a small “sure”  when she noticed his expecting gaze. If someone could die from embarrassment Abby definitely would be long dead. 

“Oh it's so nice to me you Abby what year are you?” Lily gushed at the girl in her boyfriend's arms, she was just too cute and her deeply reddened cheeks only made her more so. Lily wanted nothing more than to kiss them but that would need to be discussed with her boys.

“Come on boys, let's leave Abby here to go find her compartment, I’m sure her friends are waiting, just as Remus is waiting on us.” She leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Abby’s cheek then turned and walked back to their compartment. Abby didn’t have a chance to even think about how she definitely didn’t have any friends waiting on her, in fact the past five minutes have been the most interaction she’s had with someone her age ever she thought. Each of the boys had followed lily’s lead and each kissed one of your cheeks and moved to their compartment. Leaving Abby a flustered mess in the middle of the train.

[queenendless]

○•°♡ GIFT ♡°•○

A/n: Dropped Phantom Parade all to play this game for my #1 man who is the reason being me playing a Hoyo game. Everything about him is too good to ignore. So forgive me for this writing dump.

~Also this is now an impromptu piece for his birthday today so happy birthday you beautiful man~

Pairing: Adult!Lighter Lorenz x F!Adult!Reader

CW: Kinda spoilers for the game, but basically fluff/intimacy with our dear Champ. My first time writing for Zenless and for Lighter so please go easy on me. I hope you enjoy.

“Hey there.”

Butterflies raced through you, nerves getting to you, as the sight of the Red Scarf Champion walked through the front door the moment you walked in from the parking lot, trolley filled with sealed boxes stuffed with new inventory.

“L – Lighter.” Your heart skipped a beat as his amused grin grew.

“Are the managers around?”

“No, they had to make an emergency run and won't be back for a while. Left me and Eous in charge in the meantime.” You avert your gaze, turning your back to him to focus on settling the weighty box at the top of the stack down on the floor, using your box cutters to pry it open, eyeing the newly obtained video tapes. A looming shadow enveloped you as a tape was presented right before you.

“In that case, here. I’m returning this video.”

“Thank you. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Actually, there is.” You gulped at how easy it was for him to take the second to last packaged box from the trolley and rested it on his bicep, literally flexing his strength for your eyes only. “If I asked you to go out with me, would you?”

Your brain screeched to a halt, winding back the reel tape, in the hopes of making sense of how you had gotten to this point.

The fact of the matter is, the past few weeks were spent readjusting to a new life in New Eridu on Sixth Street, bunking with the siblings, and working for them full time as compensation for all their aid, you had seen this man around Radio Play as long as you have been there.

Introducing you two to each other and explaining your situation, Wise and Belle exchanged knowing looks as Lighter offered his gloved hand for you to shake, your mesmerized gaze and smitten smile not going unnoticed.

And ever since then, every time he visited the store to either commission them or just to rent another tape, your nervous shy smile and waves resulted in his sole pupil peaking out over his shades twinkling intriguingly, lips curling, as he chuckled softly at your goofy self trying not to stare too much while nearly knocking into the store counter with packages still in your arms. Belle’s exasperated giggle filled the air as she tugged you in the staff room, Wise sheepishly apologizing on your behalf.

So how did all that come to this?

“Excuse me?”

The surprised look he gave had him clearing his throat, setting his box down, awkwardness showing through, featuring a new side of Lighter for your viewing pleasure. “Going out. D – Dating. With … me. Just you and me.”

“Uh … can I ask … what brought this on?”

“To be honest, being the Champion for the Sons of Calydon has always been my highest priority. It didn’t leave me much room for dating. But before, I never really thought much about it, believing that I had all I needed.” He fell so in tune with you, helping you unload and slide those tapes in the display racks, his shoulder brushing yours so slyly. “Despite the fans and admirers I’d gotten over time, I was never interested. Until recently, that is.”

The friction that came in, the air thick with such sexual tension, had you turning the corner to the other side of the display, stealing a glance at him, in between slotting in some tapes. “I see.”

He had on quite the bashful expression to get you going doki doki. That small red tint to his cheeks and him coughing into his gloved fist made you gush internally. “I am serious, though. I get that I can be stoic and intimidating. But just being around someone that’s as gentle and carefree as you kinda – no, really – lightens me up.” The sudden cringe got a laugh outta you, his lopsided grin got you blushing more. “Even your laugh is adorable. And that blush … I just can’t get enough of you.”

You got a tickle in your dry throat, ducking your head, remembering you still had his return tape in your grasp. A rom com. You then felt those leather bound fingers brushing yours holding said videotape. You flinched back at how close his face had gotten the moment you looked up.

“I can see I make you nervous. I don’t mean to … but I admit … it is kinda cute.” Pressing the videotape to your face to hide your flustered state was as futile as it was enjoyable to him. “And trying to hide your face just makes me wanna see it more.” His gentle yet firm prying, pulling the tape away and setting it aside, he grinned at spotting your pouting look. “I’m asking you, not as the Red Scarf Champion of the Sons of Calydon, but as Lighter … will you be my girl?”

The arrow did pierce your heart at his honest confession.

Oh, how can he be so cute and handsome all at once?!

The sudden tug on his red scarf by you pulled his face in, right into yours, as your timid chaste kiss met his lips. A few slow gestures had him curling against such sweet succulence.

“Yes.”

Your whispered consent got him going.

Such smooth swift movement swooped in like a blur, expected from a former boxer, as his arm draped snugly around your sides to make you spin at how easily you melted within his grasp. Your touch starved self never thought they’d ever be satiated, let alone by the very man you couldn’t help but fall for the day you met him in the flesh; his handsome, noble, honor bound self.

His gloved hand weaved through your hair, held the back of your head, pulled you gently closer, ready to make his own kiss go deeper. Your hum brought delight to his ears, sensually moving with your lips, to pull more pleased sounds out of you. Your hands trailed up his jacketed chest, careful when moving through the spiky details, brushing the nape of his neck, giving him goosebumps as your sneaky fingers gently but firmly massaging his skin.

“Keep turning me on like that … and I'll really never let you go.” His low purr surprised you as much as his seriousness did. “I mean it.” Your hand moved to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbing circles, as your other hand brushed through his dark teal bangs, velvety to the touch.

The deep hums he responded with by your actions had you smiling all dopey like. Your forbidden desire, your inner longing, seeped right into your core. “Then don’t.”

Your eyes dare peek open only to feel breathless by how that one lone green eye with scarlet encircling his pupil burned with such a primal longing; not unlike your own gaze.

In a moment, your back was flushed against the Staff Room door. His hands were on both sides of your head, keeping you caged, blocking the front door out of your sight.

Two firm pricks tugged on your bottom lip, carefully so as not to draw blood for his sake. The sight of his fangs brought shivers throughout you, his toothy grin bringing a beautiful blush out of you, licking your lips with enough persuasion to have you open up.

Running your hands along his back, your tongues danced together, sounds of wet lips smacking being heard had got Bangboo 18, 6 and Eous acting flustered as evidenced by their digital face screens, befuddled at how miraculously no one had entered the shop to see such the passionate public display.

Lost in the depths of intimate liplock for a while when puffs of heat were exchanged as you broke apart, taking in much needed air, his hazy eyes staring into yours with an added layer of tenderness.

“Getting light headed, are we?”

The cheesiness had you snort. “Quit it.”

His nose lightly brushed yours. “Thanks, by the way.”

Your petal soft peck to his cheek had his lips curling. “For saying yes?”

He nodded, his mouth whispering heatedly in your ear. “And on my birthday, no less.”

Your face glowed and your eyes swelled up all chibi like at this new revelation. “Aw, you could have told me that sooner, you know~!”

His eyes crinkled with mirth at your adorable self. “Well, now you know.”

The abrupt sound of the bell ringing followed by rough coughing had you two on edge as your faces turned to spot Wise raising a suspicious brow and Belle giggling quietly behind him as the siblings caught you red handed.

“We're lucky it's a slow day. Otherwise you two would be swarmed by Lighter’s fanbase. Especially if they saw your PDA.” Wise sighed with caution.

“Sorry we took so long. But Caesar and the others messaged us while we were out about the big news. Happy Birthday, Lighter!” Belle cheered.

“Thank you, manager.” He was able to keep a steady gaze, even as he pushed off the wall to give you some breathing room, but that did not keep him from your side.

“They also invited us to a party in Blazewood to celebrate~!” Belle was over the moon for it.

Lighter sighed, exasperated. “I told them they didn't have to throw me a party. But they insisted.”

“I guess we can close shop early today.” Wise spoke.

“ … Unless you two would rather be left alone right now~?” Belle teased.

Your head drooped in burning shame. “No, a trip would be fine, thank you very much.”

“This will also be your first time visiting the Outer Ring. If we're planning on spending the night there, you may want to pack some things.” Wise pointed out.

“Really? In that case, let me be your personal guide. The Sons of Calydon are gonna wanna meet you, after all.” The suave bow and taking your hand in his just for you to feel him smirking against your knuckles had you nearly get a nosebleed.

“Come on, Y/n. Let's get packing.” Belle dragged you upstairs by hand before that could happen.

And yet your dazy eyes looked back to Lighter whose burning gaze followed you, bewitching you further by his very presence.

By the time you girls got your bags packed, Wise was already in the driver's seat of the van with his stuffed bag and Eous in the back seat. As Belle got into the passenger seat, you approached Lighter as he straddled his motor bike, with your stuffed bag strapped to your back.

“Your chariot awaits, my lady~”

“Is that my pet name now?”

“And lots more where that came from. Now, you better hold on tight. It's gonna be quite the ride.” Snugly pressed against his back, you hugged his waist tightly as the engine roared to life. He leaned into your embrace as he took the lead with the Random Play van following shortly behind, going down the usual route, outta the big city and down the highways.

Resting your cheek along his spine, you become entranced by the changing landscape from buildings to the outback like land.

Spotting the town in the distance, he felt a bundle of anticipation and anxiousness in the pit of his stomach.

He's dating you now.

And he was gonna introduce you to his crew – his closest friends – his found family.

Wonder how that's gonna play out.

He hoped for the better.

After all, you are quite literally the best present he could ever receive, indeed.

[nanaslutt]

gojo's first time meeting you and instantly noticing your freckles. like nothing other than your freckles, not even the clothes you're wearing rn or your hair or eyes.

freckles.

and im absolutely sure geto would be so fed up with gojo ranting about how he wants to kiss every single one of them.

oh my god this is so cute???????? this reminds me of gojos cannon reaction to seeing geto for the first time and thinking “bangs” lol

contains: fem transfer student!reader, 3rd year satosugu, geto choosing to stay at jujutsu tech au, the boys are both 19 here, Geto has morals, gojo uhhhhhh, crackkk, fluff, perv!gojo, masturbation, caught masturbating, fantasizing

note: the toji fic will b posted later tonight or tmrw morn :p

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Freckles………

If you looked close enough you might be able to see the white orbs floating around Gojo’s head,

“Uhhh, sorry is there something on my face” you spoke up when he didn’t say anything after you introduced yourself.

Satoru getting jolted out of his trance when suguru landed a mean smack on the back of his head, pouting at his dark haired bestfriend.

“Sorry about him,” geto apologized on his behalf, “he can be quite oblivious to how his actions affect other people.” suguru grit behind his teeth, looking out the corner of his eye to see satoru shooting daggers at him.

“Asshole…” the white haired man mumbled under his breath, looking up from under his white lashes, gaze set back on your face, watching you rub the back of your neck, saying something to geto.

Words leaving your mouth sounding muffled as his gaze dropped to your neck, noticing that the brown spots trailed further and further down the length of your neck, even traveling under the collar of your shirt, where the cloth obstructed his view.

Lip twitching up breifly at his annoyance, wanting to see just how far the freckles really went.

“Right satoru?” Suguru laughed, both of you directing your attention to the albino, “god da-“ smacking him harder once more on the back of his head, sending him his body curling in on himself on the ground and groaning, “manners satoru jesus christ.” suguru smacks a heavy hand over his face at gojos antics.

—

Gojo let his head fall of the edge of sugurus bed, silky hair falling around his ears, suguru laying against the headboard, flipping through some magazine, sugurus low-fi playlist playing softly in the backround.

“God….did you see how her frek-“ Geto swiftly cutting him off by kicking his foot into his shin, “satoru i swear to god if you say one more thing about her fucking freckles i’m going to cut out your tongue.” he spat, not looking up from his magazine.

For days after your first meeting he would not shut up about how cute he found your freckles.

Learning when you wore a skimpy tank top when sparing with shoko, that the cute spots not only covered your pretty face, but your arms and hands too.

Watching the light hit your skin as your body moved swiftly, shirt lifting when you flipped and twisted yourself, seeing the freckles and moles scattered across your tummy.

Shirt barely having lifted for a couple milliseconds, but he didn’t have good eyesight for nothing. Gojo quickly memorizing the placement of the dots and engraving it in his brain.

Brain practically short circuiting when the sun was beating down on the school a little too how one day, meaning he got to see you in shorts.

short, skimpy, tight, shorts.

It was like you wanted him to look, leaning over the counter, knees perched on the stool and elbows on the counter, cradling your soft cheeks in your hands as you spoke to shoko over the table.

Twisting your hips on the swivel stool, making the fabric of your shorts raise, letting him see even more brown spots on the insides of your thighs from his place on the couch behind you.

“torruuu,” geto caught him off gaurd, whispering into the shell of his ear, “quit bein a fucking perv.” turning to look at the not so friendly looking smile plastered on the dark haired mans face. ugh. buzzkill.

Taking them back to the present, “I know I knowww, you hate beauty we get it..” gojo drawled, sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes. Lucky the bed blocked geto’s view of gojo’s face from here, as he probably would’ve hit him.

“I just cannot stop thinking about kissing her cute little face, maybe her neck..” pausing for a second, getting too absolved in his words, “below her neck…” he whispered.

“Satoru, stop telling me about your perverted fantasies about our new classmate, please.” letting the magazine drop into his lap as he finally let himself look down at the man.

Geto quickly noticing the extremely obvious tent in his pants. “You have 2 seconds to get you and your boner off my bed or your not gonna like it.” geto growled.

Gojo let his body slide of the bed backwards headfirst into the hardwood floor. “You hate meeeee,” he dragged out his words dramatically, “You hate my happinesssss” he continued, geto closing his eyes and shook his head, feeling a headache come on at his antics.

“I hate your penis.” Geto corrected. “She has a mind of her own, it’s not my faul,” gojo defended, sprawling his limbs out on the floor.

“Did you just refer to your dick as ‘she’?” Geto asked, needing to clarify the insanity gojo was spouting, leaning over the end of his bed to get a better look at the white haired freak.

“Well yeah,” he stated like it was obvious, “cant be a ‘him’, that would be gay.”

Geto blinked at him, glancing at the ceiling to center himself before he looked back at the man on the floor. Leaning back out of view, he picked up the magazine, throwing it straight at gojos crotch. Of course now of all times when geto decided to assault him, he had his infinity on.

“Oh that would’ve hurt so bad,” gojo closed his lanky legs together, covering his crotch with his hands. “I cant believe you really went for my nads.” gojo bit his lip in offense, faux crying at getos meaness.

Geto just rolled his eyes in response, flopping back into the bed, folding his hands over his chest as he was left entertain-less.

—

When the two of you finally exchanged numbers, he used the opportunity to ask to take a picture together; for your profile picture of course!

Definitely not because he wanted to stare at the picture by himself for hours; pinching the screen between his fingers, zooming in and out of on the photo as he now could really map out each and every one of your freckles.

Blushing when his brain compared them to the constellations, how romantic he thought.

What happened next was… less romantic.

Phone laid out on the bed underneath him while his hand laid next to it, bracing himself as he hovered above it, other hand rapidly stroking his cock.

Staring into your eyes unabashedly, no geto around to tell him off as he engraved whatever piece of your face he wanted into his brain permanently.

Squeezing over the tip when he looked at how big his hand looked compared to your shoulder, palm resting on it in the photo.

Twitching at the mole placed perfectly on your cleavage, getting a great view of the crack between your breasts from the high angle he held the phone at. Mentally patting himself on the back for that.

He had zoomed in onto your half of the photo, not wanting to look at himself while he masturbated.

Mouth watering with the urge to press his lips against every single one of your freckles. Imagining you giggling and blushing while he tickled your face with his soft lips making him dizzy.

Gojo imagined your hand instead of his, wrapped tightly around his cock. He imagined pressing his length against your plush lips, rubbing the tip over them, feeling your tongue dart out and lick his tip.

Groaning out your name when he came, abs clenching when ropes of cum spurted out of his dick, and all over the sheets underneath him.

Grimacing when he watched some of it land on his phone screen; disgust being slightly overpowered by how erotic your pixelated face looked with his cum decorating it.

“Satoru did you take my charger again? Swear i’m gonna kill you-“ Suguru cut himself short when he slid satoru’s door open, taking in the scene in front of him.

Geto wasn’t able to fully see his phone, but he knew full well what his jerk off material was.

Satoru gave him a dopey grin, practically seeing smoke emit from atop getos head as he slammed the door shut, kicking his foot against the wood and yelling out, “cant believe i’m best friends with such a pervert!” down the hallway, voice getting quieter the further he got away from gojos room.

Satoru didn’t care though, gazing back at his phone, picking it up in his palm before using his thumb to smear the cum over your smiling lips lewdly.

He absolutely needed to get his hands on you, and he would make sure he did.

[numinousher]

2U⭑.ᐟ ── O29. conversations of past ghosts

You and Jungkook stayed in the jacuzzi of his family’s vacation home until 2 AM.

You honestly don’t remember getting inside it, but you weren’t complaining now as you and Jungkook sat across each other, enjoying the warmth in contrast to the cold air outside.

“This was well needed,” Jungkook said as you two enjoyed the soft music that was playing from his phone. You smiled and nodded in agreement. “I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you playfully rolled your eyes. “I’m happy I agreed. After the whole situation with Sienna and Jongseok… I felt so much more insecure and a whole mess but, being here, it makes me feel better.”

“Your mom was right, you know?” Jungkook hummed. “He was a piece of shit who took advantage of you and your love. My heart may have been broken, too, and believe me, there are days where it hurts, but… it happened, sweet girl. You got hurt and your feelings are so valid because the person you trusted to have your heart and take care of it broke it like it didn’t matter.”

“It just didn’t have to happen like that,” you whispered, gulping down the familiar ball of pain in your throat.

He looked at you. Intensely. His eyes, doe and hooded simultaneously, gazed at you. You could feel it burning everywhere until it had you withholding in your shivers.

“Come here,” he softly commanded, his arm sticking out so you could grab his hand. You nodded and grabbed it, feeling him bring you closer to his side until you were in front of him. “I don’t know why Jongseok lost you, why he couldn’t do better, and as a man—”

“Don’t remind me.”

���—as a man, I apologize on his behalf for losing someone who loved him unconditionally, who stayed loyal to him… Like I told you, you loved him so much and you should be proud of yourself for loving so openly and giving him your heart and your all.”

“I know it’s just…” you trailed off with a sigh. “He’s a fucking bitch and I hate him because I feel stupid.”

“And it’s okay, alright? Hate him all you want. That little bitch didn’t, and still doesn’t, deserve you.”

“I feel as if I should’ve dumped his ass when he threw a fit over me mentioning I want flowers,” you scoffed, rubbing the skin of your forehead. “All I said was if he could buy me flowers and he said, and I quote, ‘it costs a lot of money.’ Like, what the hell?”

Jungkook hummed at your words. “He’s a little bitch.” You nodded in agreement as he continued staring at you. “You couldn’t have known what he would’ve done. The what-if’s aren’t going to help your pretty brain. He’s not worth thinking about anymore.”

At seeing your teary eyed eyes, he brought you closer.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you tearfully chuckled. “I’m just embarrassed more than anything. Did you see the comments under their posts? Their stupid ass friends.”

“And you’re none of the mean things they said, baby,” he softly whispered in your ear. You feel him place his palm on your cheek, holding your face as if he was holding something so fragile. The pad of his thumb rubbed your cheekbone, soothing you. “They’re all idiots, alright? I’ll treat you better, okay?”

You nodded as he brought your face down, kissing your forehead.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he muttered. “I would rather be slapped by Jimin before even daring to break your heart, okay? I’ll take care of you, I’ll provide for you, I’ll feed you, I’ll take care of everything. Hell, you want flowers? I’ll buy you the whole store. Never settle for less, you hear me? Never. Not with me.”

“You’re too good to be true I swear,” you chuckled as you looked up at him through your lashes.

He smiled and shrugged. “Just for you, baby.” He nuzzled his nose with yours before glancing at the time. “Come on, let’s get out. We’ve been here for a while and it’s late.”

You nod and watch as he gets out first. He grabs his towel, drying his body. He sticks out his hand for you to grab and you do so, getting out.

Before you could shiver, he already had your body wrapped in a warm, fluffy towel. His arms went around you, rubbing your arms up and down to warm you up even more.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you softly mutter. He smiled.

“Anything for you, sweet girl.”

BEFORE MASTERLIST AFTER

NOTE: i have to hold back from making them kiss

TAGLIST: @an-ever-angry-bi @parapiop7 @renoirgoh @ldysmfrst @futuristicenemychaos @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @han-nah-banana @somehowukook @joonsprettygf @svnbangtansworld @butnotmontana @iammeandmeisiam @minaateez @girlontheblock @toosweetforyall @reallygenerouskoala @ronyiboniyy @tannies-luv @rrosiitas @jmscaffeine @marvel-potter-1d-korea @heyjiminnie @fredjas @alfie2401 @boowiththegoo @asillyduck15 @jkoooooooookie @tarahardcore @elinaki92 @fsdcande @minniejim @spenceatiny18 @chromietriestowrite @nbjch05 @lovingkoalaface … (open)

[moonmunson]

electric touch - eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie hasn't had much luck with dates - not until you.

warnings: ppl being mean to eddie (only for a little bit!) and some discussion on eddie's penchant for kinda being used by the popular girls but there's so much fluff and some kissing at the end

word count: 2.8k

a/n: i started this when speak now tv came out and then completely abandoned it but she's my little brain child

When Eddie was in eighth grade, he spent a week rehearsing the best way to ask a girl out on a date. He practiced in the mirror every day, making sure to sound hopeful, but not desperate, eager, but not pushy. He’d almost given up and asked his Uncle for advice, but in case it didn’t go the way he wanted it to, he didn’t want Wayne to be waiting for an update. 

There was a new horror movie premiering in the theater downtown, and he’d heard that scary movies were the best to bring a girl to - because if she got scared, Eddie could put his arm around her and protect her from the fictional monsters. 

He never even got the chance to ask her. He’d tried, to be sure. Monday morning of the next week, when he’d worked up enough nerve, he walked up to the group of cheerleaders she was a part of, and didn’t even open his mouth before the group of girls ganged up on him - asking him what he wanted, calling him a freak, telling him to get away from them. Later, the girl he’d been pining after approached him - sans clique - and apologized on behalf of her friends. She didn’t feel the same as them, but she couldn’t ruin her “reputation.” They saw each other in secret for half a year before she got a boyfriend on the basketball team. Typical. It hurt Eddie more than he was comfortable admitting. 

Eddie doesn’t love referring to himself as a cynic, but the repetitive cycle of being used by popular girls for a night of fun - fulfilling their dream of sleeping with the town’s resident bad boy before never speaking to him again, exhausted Eddie to the point of declaring that true love was a capitalistic ruse created to sell laboratory made diamonds. It would never work out for him, and he convinced himself that he was okay with that. 

For the remainder of high school, Eddie continued to play the part. Rich kids invited him to ragers and tried to weasel their way out of paying full price for his weed, even though they were buying with daddy’s money, not their own. He hooked up with random popular girl after random popular girl, always leaving immediately and feeling like shit after. But at least he was getting laid, right?

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Now, Eddie is sitting on the couch in his living room, meticulously arranging and rearranging Wayne’s automobile magazines that live untouched on the coffee table. Has there always been this much dust on them? He wasn’t sure, and the thought only offered a momentary distraction before the nerves swept him back into the electric current of anxiety running through his body.  

He’d already spent most of the past hour making sure there was no visible trash laying out in the open for you to see. He’d even gone so far as to make his room slightly presentable in case you wanted to go in. He wasn’t expecting anything - quite the opposite, actually. He was sure that you’d see the place he lives, turn around and walk out without giving him a chance, and never speak to him again. 

Logically, he knows that this won’t be the case. He knows that Dustin wouldn’t lie to him about your reciprocated interest. He’d spent the entire drive back to Eddie’s trailer for their Hellfire meeting trying to convince him that he saw how giddy his sister had been when she opened the door and saw him standing there. She’d known Eddie was coming to pick her younger brother up, and she’d put on mascara to greet him - as if Eddie truly knows enough about girls to take that as a surefire sign that you were excited to see him. Dustin hears you talking over the phone to your friends about him all the time, and he only shares with Eddie that what you say is positive - not wanting to disclose the nitty gritty. It’s not your fault that the walls of your adjoined rooms are thin, and your friends are loud. 

Still, Eddie is nervous. When he gave you his phone number under the assumption that you might want to call to check up on Dustin, he was shocked that you called days after the Hellfire meeting had ended, and Dustin had returned home. So shocked, in fact, that he wasn’t even the one who had answered the phone - Wayne was. When he’d heard the sweet lilt of your voice on the other side of the line, he’d practically shoved his uncle to grab hold of the phone. You sounded unsure saying hello to him - nervous and breathy and a little bit quiet, but not unenthusiastic - and Eddie knew that Dustin had been telling the truth. 

Eddie spoke to you for an hour that night before he worked up the nerve to ask if you might want to come over to watch a movie. “No funny business, just the sweet sight of David Bowie in tights that no other man would ever be able to pull off.” You’d giggled - a sound Eddie was determined to hear again - and asked how he knew that Labyrinth was your favorite movie. The truth was that he’d overheard Dustin complaining about how you chose it every time it was your turn to pick for family movie night, but he brushed off the question and said that he just “Had a feeling.” 

The sudden appearance of headlights beaming through the trailer window brings Eddie out of his reverie long enough to remember to wipe the dust from his hands onto his jeans. The sound of your car door opening and closing, and the crunch that your shoes make on the gravel pulls Eddie like a siren song from the couch to his trailer door, and the creaking of the wooden steps leading up to said door, has him pulling it open faster than he means to. 

You’re a vision of comfort. Of soft things. Of light wash jeans with no rips in them, of cardigans and sweaters and rose perfume. Your fist is raised in the air like you were about to knock, and for a moment, Eddie thinks this whole thing was a mistake. 

“Oh-”

“Sorry, I-”

There’s a beat of silence. The energy between the two of you is almost palpable - eyes wide and palms clammy - before he breaks the connection and moves out of the way for you to come in. He knows he can turn on the charm once you’re settled, but this has been the part he’s been dreading the most.

It doesn’t matter to his friends that he lives in a trailer. It doesn’t matter when there are beer bottles on the coffee table or old socks on the couch, he knows the guys won’t care. But as you step in, and your eyes begin to sweep over the small living room, the reality of his economic status has never felt bigger, or made him feel smaller. 

As he looks at you though, he notices the soft smile on your face. Taking stock of the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls, of the throw blanket laid over the top of the recliner. 

“The uh, the hats and stuff are my Uncle’s.”

“They’re really cool,” his eyes trace your movements as you walk along the edges of the room, arms at your sides, reading the puns and state names embroidered on them. “has he always collected them?”

Eddie makes his way to the couch, and sits - trying to direct his line of sight to the same ones you’re looking at. Trying to put himself in your shoes and guess what you might be thinking, but coming up short. 

“Wayne was a trucker for a few years,” you turn to look at him, to pay attention to what he’s saying. Eddie does a lot of stupid shit to get people to look at him, he knows that. It doesn’t matter that the expressions he receives the most often are sneers or ones of annoyance. Exasperation. But you look genuinely interested in what he has to say, and it throws him for a loop. “And then he got stuck with me, so he doesn’t really get to buy new ones anymore.”

“Stuck with you?”  

“I mean, yeah, kind of. It’s a long boring story,” Eddie claps his hands together and launches himself up and off of the couch, and you know to stop pushing. “Want the grand tour?” 

“Absolutely,” you nod. 

“Well, my lady,” you watch from your position by the recliner as he struts to the middle of the living room, puts his arms out horizontally at his sides, and bows deeply, “welcome to Castle Munson. The maid did actually remember to show up tonight.” 

“Oh yeah? She did an excellent job,” you huff out a laugh, and Eddie snaps back up to a vertical, a smile on his face that showcases the lines around his mouth. 

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Eddie? Can I ask you something?”

After giving you a short but enthusiastic tour of the main parts of the trailer and presenting you with the array of snacks he'd gotten for the movie, you both settled on the small couch in the living room. You'd had to resist the urge to curl up into his side, and instead curled up into the arm of the couch.

“Anything, sweets. Go for it.”

“How did you really know this was my favorite movie?”

“I’m psychic,” He taps his index finger to his temple a few times. “I didn’t tell you that?”

“Eddie.”

“Y/n.”

“I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” He matches your raised pitch - teasing, but not condescending - and you almost raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but you don’t know if you’ve reached that level of familiarity yet. 

“You don’t have to answer the question if you don’t want to. I’m not weirded out or anything - just curious. Honestly, I’m kind of like, flattered, I guess? I don’t know.” 

Had you overstepped? Eddie’s eyes flit over different things in the room in rapid succession, and he exhales - you can almost see the cogs turning in his head - like he doesn’t know whether to keep joking or offer a moment of true vulnerability. You don’t think the latter comes naturally to him. 

“I heard Dustin complaining to Wheeler that you always pick it for family movie night. It seems like the kind of thing you’d like. Very dreamy and hazy, that kinda thing.” Eddie shrugs and looks off to the side, trying and failing to put on an air of nonchalance, but his tinted cheeks suggest otherwise.

“Is that how you think of me? Dreamy and hazy?” You duck your head to try and meet his gaze, and when he turns to look at you, you think it’s the first time you’ve ever truly seen him. The boyish, innocent version of him that he doesn’t allow to rise to the surface all that often. His charm is still there, and bright as ever, but you can see the uncertainty in the way he struggles to keep his eyes on yours. 

“Maybe. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.” The smile that graces your features is so easy and genuine that Eddie has no choice but to beam his own right back at you. 

You settle into an easier silence for the remainder of the movie, save for the comments the both of you share. You think it’s especially funny when Eddie compares The Fireys playing volleyball with their own heads to a “Muppet snuff film on acid.” When it’s over, he grabs a few Dr. Peppers from the fridge and asks if you want to smoke with him before you head back home. You decline, because driving while high makes you nervous, but you don’t mind sitting with him for a bit longer. 

“Plus, there’s one more room I haven’t given you the tour for, if you’re interested…”

“I get to see the King’s quarters?”

“More like the dungeon,” he gestures to himself, still clad in his Hellfire shirt, “but yeah, totally.”

“Lead the way then, dungeon master.” 

He looks behind himself to see if you’re following, and extends his hand back so you can hold onto it. It’s not like you’re gonna get lost - the hallway is less than ten feet, but it gives you an excuse to finally touch without overthinking it. Eddie doesn't care to ask whether the jolt of static he feels when your hands meet for the first time is because of your shuffling socks on the carpet or the nervous current running between the two of you. Guessing by the way you suck in a soft breath - one he could barely hear - he doesn’t think you care either. 

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“All I’m saying is Jareth’s a weirdo for wanting a whiny sixteen year old to be his queen.” Eddie is laying on his stomach, legs bent at the knee and ankles crossed in the air. When you’d entered his room, he’d shown you his favorite things before quickly ushering you to get comfortable on the bed. He said that he needed to have an in depth conversation about the movie you’d just watched. 

“The age gap is bad for sure, and she is whiny, I totally get what you’re saying, but-” You’re sitting across from him, elbows resting on your criss-crossed legs. 

“But? Y/n. Are you about to defend him?”  

“Let me finish!” You giggle and Eddie swears that he can feel it in his chest - another spark. 

“I cannot let you finish if you’re about to say what I think you’re gonna say. Morally. Ethically. I cannot let you finish.” In true dramatic Munson fashion, he sweeps his hands in front of him, palm facing out for you to see. He’s almost pouting, lips folded in and corners turned down.  

“What I’m trying to say,” you look pointedly at him to see if he’s going to interrupt again, “is that I think that his proposition isn’t so bad when you really think about it.”

“Well now I have to hear your reasoning behind this.” 

“Think about it. He’s offering her literally anything she could possibly desire, and all she has to do is love him back.” 

“Oh that’s all? I think you’re forgetting the part where he says she has to obey his every whim or whatever the fuck.” Eddie fights the urge to change his tone from teasing to serious - his heart twinging at the idea of making you uncomfortable. 

“You don’t think that love is enough? Or that maybe all love has a level of devotion attached to it?”

“I think my idea of love is too fucked to give you a real answer.” He’s refusing to look at you - gaze directed towards his ringed hands fiddling with the metal tab of the soda can, eyebrows furrowed. 

“I could fix that, if you wanted - make it all dreamy and hazy for you.” 

Eddie can feel the wires in his brain short circuit. In the back of his mind somewhere, he knows that he only has a few seconds to respond before you start to think that maybe you said something wrong, but he can’t seem to reconnect in time. All he manages is an out of breath - 

“Yeah?” 

“If you wanted, yeah,” you nod, like you’ve decided something, and slowly reach to pull his hand from the soda can - taking it with you and setting it down on the crowded bedside table. “I think you deserve it.” 

“Really?” He’s looking at your joined hands, but he doesn’t wrap his fingers around yours. Not yet. 

“Yeah, Eddie. Really.” 

His fingers finally wrap around yours as you pull him from his position on his stomach to lean over you - rising onto his knees and walking on them before planting his arms on either side of your torso. He can feel your breath, soft against his cheeks as he leans in and connects his lips to yours - once, twice, three times. 

That same sparky feeling that Eddie has been getting in his chest all night finally rumbles to life. Like a car being hotwired, he can practically feel your hands pulling wires he thought were long dead and breathing life back into them - rubbing them together until the spark catches and the engine starts. 

“That was-” You pull away slightly to look up at him, lovesick and dopey. 

“Dreamy? Hazy? I think those are two words I would definitely-”

You laugh, already pulling his face back towards yours. 

“Shut up and kiss me again, Munson.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

a/n: ahh! thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed this story please like and reblog i would appreciate it endlessly !!!

[ama--ryllis]

Underneath soft candlelight

The artist series: panting/drawing

Warning: angst, no izumi ( even though i love her😭) not proofread, violence/gore ? Massacre au, stalking ? Fem reader.

You were not shinobi, just a normal girl, born from a chunin dad and civillian mother. You'd like to say there was nothing much that was special about you, but that would be a lie, a huge one at that. Because you were special, not just because of your skills in art, no...you were special to him.

Shisui and itachi were best friends, that much was pretty well known around the village. Two prodigies, or so they were called by their clan, they were friends since childhood, doing almost everything together but at some point, someone else came along. You came along

It wasn't that special of an encounter really, most would subject it as rather expected, considering shisui curiosity and extroverted personality. Let me take you back on your memories...

Your face was comfortable resting in your palm, your eyes half-open as you sat alone in a dango shop. The pencil between you fingers spun slowly as you silently racked your brain for some ideas, you had to draw something to get yourself out of damned block. It was annoying really! Art blocks were such a pain in the ass! Your groaned while pressing your hands against your face, dragging them down slightly.

You went through your sketchbook lazily in hope for some ideas, but something was strange. Why did it feel like someone was staring at you-

You covered your mouth as to not scream when you realized someone was looking over your shoulder, you scooted away, looking at....a shinobi? With an awfully curious look on his face, he didn't even look your way when you squirmed away

"yo! Itachi! Come see this"

Said itachi came over to his friend, his face rather devoid of emotion, carrying a plate of dango in one hand. Looking towards...nothing, why? Because the sketchbook was now in your hand, hitting shisui, the man that was peeking over your shoulder, straight in the face.

"creep!"

You yelled, pointing at him with an annoyed look on your face, shisui, was surprised to say the least and itachi sighed.

"shisui, apologi-"

A girly yelp escaped shisui when you straddled him about to punch his face

"i'm sorry! Your drawings are gorgeous!"

Your fist went straight into the ground, cracking the wood next to his head, to which his gaze slowly looked, from the corner of his eyes. He whimpered but also chuckled nervously

"oh really?"

He nodded firmly, sweat dropping slightly, but before you could do anything else an arm pulled you off shisui and stabilized you, before also helping shisui up.

"thanks itachi...."

You stared at both of them, wiping the dust of your clothes.

"i apologize on behalf of my friend here, shisui, apologize"

His voice was deep, bot not to an overbearing extent, you eyed shisui, waiting for that apology.

"haha...sorry?"

You sighed, waving it off before grabbing your sketchbook again.

"don't go bothering strangers again, weirdo"

His jaw dropped at your insult, it wasn't much but definitely uncalled for, you walked past them and out of the dango shop, mumbling to yourself.

"she called me a weirdo-"

"you deserved that"

Shisui sulked, a pout on his face while itachi sighed to himself, feeling disappointed in his friend.

So, that pretty much sums up how you, itachi and shisui met, somehow, from then on, you three became good friends. It was kind of weird but it just happened.

You three always hanged out together, sometimes sasuke, itachi's little brother, joined in, he was always so sweet and begged you to see your art, to which, after a good amount of puppy eyes, you couldn't deny. Even itachi's mother, mikoto, loved you very much and often times insisted to itachi to invite you for dinner, an invite you could never refuse. She had always teased you two about becoming a couple, because in truth, you and itachi grew very close. Even shisui noticed that you were closer to itachi than him, much to his dismay, everyone could see it, but you and itachi. Well, itachi knew of his feelings for you, but he was completely convinced you didn't reciprocate, so he never acted on it.

Everything was going well between the three of you, a good trio of friends. It was more often bright smiles and you always welcomed the two from their missions, something the were always grateful for.

But nothing good could last forever....right? Yea, right, because everything came crashing down one day. The day shisui commited suicide, you weren't there to witness it, but when itachi came to see you one day, with a solemn expression instead of the soft one he had around you, shisui missing, he didn't have to utter a word before you broke down in tears, falling to your knees. He crouched beside you, rubbing your back and bringing your face to his shoulder, silently crying himself but he couldn't show you raht, could he ? So that night, he stayed over, you comforted eachother, well, mostly itachi comforted you, he didn't want you to comfort him, he wanted to be strong for you. You cried and cried in his shoulder, even more after he gave you the message Shisui wanted to tell you in person, even if he couldn't. He spoke, in a quiet voice:

"shisui said...he wanted you to know that he loved you, had feeling for you. He wished you could know in a different way"

That, that made you cry even harder, you clung to itachi, gripping his clothes while he held you tightly. He wanted to cry too, but he couldn't, so he just held you, using your scent as comfort for his unshed tears.

~ a year and half later~

You had moved on...or at least somewhat from shsiui's death, you and itachi didn't hng out as much, he got busier and busier with the anbu and you had started focusing on your art and started to sell. While you were still friends, you rarely saw eachother, when you spent time together, it was usually in small clearing or in your room, talking. He tried...he tried to make time for you before it came, but these last few days he ahd been even more distant, as if he was trying to get rid of you. You were hurt to sya the least, what came next....you couldn't say you expected it.

That night, you were up late, at your desk along with your sketchbook opened on a blank page. Drawing on it while lost in thought, or more like lost in the thought of itachi.

As for him, he was holding back his tears, he had just murdered everyone, his parents, his clansmen. Everyone but sasuke, who layed, unconscious before him, he turned and started jumping along roofs until he saw your home, your curtains and window opened to let him fresh air. He stopped on a rooftop, looking at you through your window, you were sat at your desk, the candlelight illuminating your face in just the right way. That, that made itachi fall in love over again with you but he couldn't...he killed every shred of feeling in his heart and darred away, leaving the village for good.

The next dew days were quiet...too quiet. That was until sasuke came at your home one of those mornings and what he said, hit you like a brick wall.

"itachi killed the clan and left the village"

You fell to your knees on your doorstep, hugging sasuke against you. It was clear the kid needed it, he hugged you back so tightly, clinging to you and held him aswell. Doing the same thing itachi did for you the night shisui had died, sasuke had grown attached to you, and you were the only pillar he had left in his life. He clung to you desperately, wanting some sort of comfort, it was still unbelievable and you were shocked.

Years passed, but they were far too slow, sasuke grew cold and you did a bit as well. You mother had passed away during that time, which didn't really help. Your father was often away on mission, leaving you to be alone in your home most of the time.

Sasuke stopped coming to see you as much, he loved you, yes, but he was too narrow minded in some way. He only wanted to kill itachi and nothing else, not only to avenge his clan, but avenge what he did to you. You let the kid do and say as he pleased, as much as you didn't want him to kill his brother.

You fell asleep at some point in your bed, thinking about all this. You didn't sleep because you wanted to but because your body couldn't take it and just collapsed.

That night, someone opened your sketchbook, picking up your pencil to write something in it. Something along the line of an apology and confession. Their touch lingered on your skin...cressing your cheek oh so gently.

Itachi thought your skin was as soft as ever, he couldn't help himself but to gently cup your cheek and leave a kiss on your forehead. He couldn't stay very long, he didn't have much time, the second he finished writing that note, he jumped out the window, heading out the village once again. Not without his heart breaking a million more times when he saw your sleeping form from far away. He longed to feel your arms wrapped around his neck once more, feeling your body against his, your soft lips press on his, your tongue tangled with his, to hear you giggle like a kid again or to hear your voice, to hear you sigh, or gaso as he- he shook those thoughts away, feeling ashamed of thinking about you this way. He looked back once more at the village, a single tear running down his cheek at the thought of leaving you behind.

Sasuke had encountered his brother recently, having been effortlessly stopped angered him. He only focused on finding ways to get stronger more quickly, it broke your heart to see the last piece of itachi you had left break by itself. The note, the open window, you knew....but you wished you hadn't fell asleep that night, that you had stayed up just one more night. Your heart broke over andover again but you kept telling yourself you had to move on, there was nothing better than a bit of painting to get your mind off of thongs, right ? So that's what you did, you got dressed and headed out into the wild nearby, sitting by the edge of a small river with a small waterfall. Just the perfect view to paint and get your mind away from those thoughts. As you drew and painted, you felt a soft smile slowly stretch onto your lips. You felt it, but someone else saw it, hidden into a few trees, hiding his presence, he looked at you. Gosh how much he wanted to just leap and wrap hid arms around you, to feel you against his chest just one more time. But he had to be content with observing you quietly, letting you paint your feelings away. You looked so peaceful, so happy to finally forget about him, as much as it pained him, he was glad.

You finished your painting, letting it dry while you soaked your feets in the cold water of the river. You felt a gaze settled on your back for a long time now, you were sure.... completely sure it was him but could you face him again? Face him without crying or throwing yourself in his arms, you probably couldn't. But you looked over your shoulder anyway, you expected just to see trees, but no....your gaze met his black one. It wasn't his sharingan, just his normal onyx eyes you loved so much. It felt like every possible emotion stabbed your body at the same time. You just stared at eachother, basking in eachothers eyes, he didn't have a smile, but you could tell he was feeling a lot of things right now. His eyes weren't stern, they were soft, as if awaiting something. You stood up, not caring about being a bit wet, taking one step towards him, you didn't say a word, your eyes speaking for you. But before your could take another step, your head rested against a his chest, his arms around you and his face buried in your hair. Your hands were shaking but they eventually rested on his nape while you pressed your cheek against his chest.

"itachi..."

The sound of his name on your lips was like heaven to him, one hand tangled in your hair and the other around your waist.

"say my name again.."

You pulled your head from his chest, looking up at him, his eyes were pleading, begging you to just say his name again. And you did, for his sake

"itachi..."

You reached reached to his face, cupping his cheek and he couldn't help but lean into your palm, closing his eyes and turning his face to kiss your hand. Pressing his lips to the middle of your palm, you watched him, a single tear slipped down your cheek and that, that broke his heart into a million pieces, that single tear. He wiped the tear from your cheek, leaning his face close to yours, your lips just centimeters away from hid and he was tempted to just go for it. But he waited, he had to know he was doing the right thing, there was also something he wanted to say before kissing you and showing you his feelings....

"i love you"

That's all he said, three words but it felt like so much more, every moment you spent by his side. It felt raw, no lies, nothing stopping you from loving eachother.

"i love you too, itachi"

Those words, the ones he wanted to hear ever since his mother had suggested confessing his so obvious feeling to you. Now, about seven years later, he could finally show you how much his heart held for you, and so that's what he did. Pressing his lips on yours, in a soft but emotional kiss, whe you reciprocated, that's when he deepened it, wanting to feel your tongue dance with his, to hear you laugh and talk to him about endless topic, that's all he wanted, to be by your side...

[pickyourpoisonandevolve]

Boyfriends to Have Boyfriends Headcanons, pt 4

I cannot stress enough how these are FLYING from my brain into a post. A brief thanks to everyone who’s said something sweet about this so far, I deeply appreciate you and your interest in what has to be my mental illness at this point.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

—-

It’s maybe one of the few times in your life you wished you were deployed. Leave is a siren song for fools, you thought. No one was meant to have this much time sitting in their dumb flat thinking about how they were fucking their Captain AND fellow sergeant. You were going to get discharged for sure. Dishonorable with a capital D. They were going to be mad at you for fucking your way through the team. Johnny would literally explode. But Price said that he KNEW—

A buzz. A text. Thinking too loud yet again.

Gaz: You doing anything today? Running errands near your part of town. Wanna come with?

In for a penny, right?

—-

You let him talk you into a wash day. A small luxury you two were able to afford yourselves as the two BIPOC members of the team. He even managed to talk you into going back to his (stupid face he makes where he tilts his head and smiles at you, can barely look at it, the bastard) Now you were sitting at his beautiful kitchen table, watching awful tv on low, with him on the floor between your legs as you rubbed scalp oil into his. You’d buy a timeshare in the 8th circle of hell if he sold it to you at this point.

“Call it nostalgia, I guess. My sisters used to do this for me back in the day. I miss it.”

“Those helmets aren’t doing any favors for anyone. Have you seen John and Simon’s crown lately? And how they both insist—“

“It isn’t thinning?” You both say in unison, laughter tearing through you both. His hand sneaks around to caress your calf, while your nails lightly scratch his scalp as you catch your respective breath.

“Hey. I, uh, wanted to—“

“Up, it’s your turn.”

“Wait, I wan—

Gaz pops up and takes you gently in his hands, leading you to the ground as he sits in the chair, hands already oiled and ready. You sat in a huff. He couldn’t say he regretted seeing you pout. The unease and frustration already settled in your stomach now had a new player enter the fold: Gaz’s fingers gently massaging your scalp. A short but hard fought battle internally, he felt your pulse slow, your body relax between his legs. That makes one of us, he thought passively.

“I know we didn’t make this easy for you. And I’m sorry. I don’t want to speak on behalf of John too much, but we’re not the most. Subtle men. You could say.”

You let out a small sound of agreement. “How long, uh. I guess how long has this been happening?”

“Couple years after I joined the force. Around the same time Simon and Johnny started I reckon.”

“Man, I should have been drafted sooner, I’d have a boss all to myself to fuck too—“

You felt his fingers tighten gently, just enough to pull your head back and give you a stern look. You gave him a meek smile as an apology, before he returned to his ministrations.

“As I was saying. We’re a team. Always have been. We could have made it a big deal, or we could continue to be great at what we do, work together. Price was just… everything I needed. Made me who I am today. Let me become the man I needed to be. No judgement.”

You nodded in his hands. You let your eyes close as he talked, letting his fingers lull you into a state. Aware but relaxed. Malleable, he’d call it. Right where he wanted you.

“But then someone had to come along and ruin it all.” He said with a laugh. “John and I share a lot of traits, and being territorial is one of em. You were so fucking sweet, and talented. Talked about you when we were together. And I just wanted to sink my fucking teeth into you.” He said, an edge in his voice now, nails scraping across your scalp a touch.

A new warmth ran through you as you felt hands pick you up from your seated position. Kyle carried you bridal style to the couch, laying you down in front of his windows in his flat overlooking the city. Your hair, big and wild from his hands, fell around your head like a halo. Fucking so perfect for him all the time. “You almost have her, don’t fuck this up.” He said to himself.

“We want you to be ours. No rank, no file. Just us.” He said, leaning over you, thumb running across your cheek.

Keys in the door started to jingle. A swish of bags and boots hit the floor as they come across the entrance and footsteps approach. “Hey love.”

Your heart stopped. You’re sure of it. Your eyes peeked open as the power of the sun was 5 feet from your face. Two of the hottest guys you’ve ever met standing above you as they ask you to be… a part of them. A piece to complete the puzzle. To make them feel a little more complete.

Your eyes become a little less lovedrunk, a little more sober and panic shoots through both of them for a moment. Your eyebrows scrunched, a sign they’ve come to learn means that you were unsure of the outcome. The thunder before the storm of “what if’s” cloud your mind. John reached down to pull you in a seated position, pressing his forehead against yours. “You could put a bullet in my head and I’d thank you for it. You couldn’t fuck this up if you tried.” He pulled back a touch to let Kyle in.

“Let us love you, sweetheart. We’ll spend the rest of our lives making sure you feel like you’re enough, yeah?” Kyle asked.

A small smile graced your lips, as you brought a hand to both their faces. “Yeah. We’re a team.”

[tonberry-yoda]

Spaced Out - Spike Spiegel

notes - I watched cowboy bebop and found my type in spike spiegel. i need him carnally, so i thought i'd start with something fluffy for now before it gets angsty. plus ive been cleaning all day and needed to take a little break. I think I for sure want to do a part II, so let me know if you wanna be tagged in it <3 word count - 1165 genre - fluff

“She’s not waking up.” you heard a deep voice say as you slightly came to consciousness.

“I’m not blind, Jet. Think she died?” you heard another voice pitch in. It sounded playful, but deep; just not as deep as the first man’s voice – Jet.

“Nah, I don’t think it’s that bad… hm…”

You felt your eyes try to open, but it wasn’t working. You wanted to stretch, do anything that would signal that you could hear what was happening around you, but nothing was working.

“How’d she even end up here?” the second voice asked.

“You know that bounty I was trying to catch?”

“It’s her?!”

“No, no, she was just nearby when I was trying to catch the guy… She got wrapped up in all of it and the asshole knocked her out.”

“No shit.” the second voice chuckled and you heard the sound of a lighter and smelled cigarette smoke.

Somehow, that got you to feel a little more alive and you were able to slightly open your eyes. A groan came out of you as your eyelashes fluttered open.

“She’s waking up!” Jet said. When you opened your eyes, you saw the man, who had a metal arm and a very concerned expression on his rugged face.

“Well, would you look at that?” the other man puffed at his cigarette and chuckled.

“Spike, come on, be nice. She could really be hurt.”

When you were able to get your eyes to open with ease, you turned to look at the other man – Spike – and you felt like this was all suddenly a dream.

“Where am I?” you managed to say. The slur in your voice was embarrassing.

“Don’t worry,” Jet said. “We’re not here to hurt you–”

“Or kidnap you.” Spike spoke up.

“Shut up, Spike.” Jet turned to you and grabbed both of your hands softly. “Do you know your name?”

You nodded. “y/n. It’s y/n.”

“y/n,” Jet said softly. “I’m Jet.”

“Nice to meet you.” you tried. Your voice sounded tired and it felt like you were still drifting in and out of sleep.

“Do you live nearby?” Jet asked.

You looked around the area you were in, but it looked to be the inside of a ship. A little messy, but comfortable.

“How would I know if I’m on a ship?” you chuckled.

Jet’s face turned bright red. “We-We’re not kidnapping you, I am so sorry, uh…” He looked frantically around him and Spike chuckled, putting out his cigarette on a metal table next to him.

“y/n, can you walk?” Spike asked.

You looked down at your hands and they looked as though they were spinning. You were incredibly dizzy, so there was probably no chance.

“I don’t think so.”

“You wouldn’t mind if I carried you, would you?” Spike leaned in strikingly close to your face and you had to move back a bit.

“Uh…”

“Spike, don’t scare the poor thing!” Jet pushed Spike back and apologized on his behalf.

“I wouldn’t mind… I don’t think. I don’t really know if my brain is working properly, to be honest.” you laughed.

“See, Jet, the little lady doesn’t mind.”

“Spike, don't.”

Spike walked over and wrapped his long arm underneath your knees. He whispered a light apology under his breath and picked you up with ease. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and looked away from him with a red face. You couldn’t tell if it was from being unconscious and still being barely a human or the truth, but Spike was really good looking. “You ready, my dear?” he asked.

You nodded and looked over at Jet, who looked upset.

“Oh, quit pouting, Jet. I won’t be out long. And who knows, maybe I’ll catch the man you couldn’t.”

Jet huffed while Spike left with you in his arms. When the two of you stepped out of the ship, it was night and the sky was full of bright stars. The last thing you remember was going shopping around midday, so how long were you out?

“Know where you are?” Spike asked.

You looked at your surroundings, even if a little dizzy. Immediately, you recognized the port where Spike and Jet parked their ship.

“I live in town.” you told him. “Not too far from here.” You lazily pointed to the town just outside the port and Spike began walking that way. He took it easy as to not make you dizzier than you already were and you appreciated that.

“So you’re a bounty hunter?” you asked. Your voice sounded less slurred, so that was good.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. What about you, love?”

You could feel yourself blush and were thankful for the night sky. “I used to be a bounty hunter.”

“Shit, really?”

You nodded. “I don’t do it much anymore. Wanted to settle down. Now I sell info.”

“You make good money that way?”

“Great money. Lots of people looking for info around here, so it makes my job easy.”

“Sounds nice. Settling down.”

“It’s all right.” you admitted. You felt yourself dissociating and getting much too tired, but you continued. “Sometimes I miss running around and trying to live in the stars.”

Spike hummed, but left it at that. It was as if he noticed you weren’t quite there.

“Sorry.” you mumbled.

“For what?”

“Getting you involved.”

“I should be saying that, silly. You must be real tired.”

You smiled and closed your eyes. “Something like that.”

“Well, hey, no falling asleep yet. Which one’s your place?”

“Two more rights. Then a left. The one with the blue door. There should be a key under the mat.”

“All right, sweetheart. We’re almost there.” Spike picked up the pace until you two made it. He squatted down and fished for the key, which he luckily found. When he opened the door, you were hit with the smell of your own home.

You felt Spike’s arms leave your body and instead felt the plush couch beneath you.

“Do you live with anyone else?” Spike whispered.

You shook your head. “Just me.” your eyes were still closed, so all you could feel was Spike’s warm, cigarette-scented breath on your cheek.

“You gonna be okay?”

“I think so.”

“You need a hospital.” Spike tucked your hair behind your ear gently.

“Do I?”

“I think so?” Spike chuckled. “I dunno, I’ve been shot a dozen times and end up fine.”

“Same.” You curled over on your side.

“Please be safe.” His voice was soft.

You turned to look at him in the dark of your living room. He looked like a beautiful silhouette.

“Why?” you asked.

“I want to see you again.”

You smiled even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

“You will.”

“Promise?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

You could see in his shadow that he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I expect a date next time. You know, for saving your life.”

You laughed. “Whatever you say, space cowboy.”

~~~~~

cowboy bebop masterlist | pinned post

2024 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~