#But I never actually drew anything from it! Even though it's so cute!

[sysig]

Second request: baby todd and Jake fluff perhaps? 💖

Day 12 - Little hands, my one weakness

[periprose]

Arachnid Anxiety

You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.

Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))

Word Count: 2.4k

Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.

Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.

But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.

She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms. 

“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you. 

You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.

“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”

“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.

“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”

“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.

You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.

But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says. 

No sugar-coating, ever.

But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him. 

It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.

You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.

Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.

It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.

And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.

Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.

You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.

You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.

“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.

You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.

“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.

“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.

“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask. 

You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.

“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.

“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”

"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."

"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one. 

Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.

"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."

"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.

"Now you're getting it."

"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"

"You've lost me."

"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."

"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”

“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”

“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”

“But I–”

“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.

You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.

“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”

“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity. 

“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”

“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”

“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”

“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”

You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.  

“Huh.”

“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs. 

“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”

He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”

“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”

“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”

You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.

You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.

Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.

Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”

She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.

He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.

Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.

“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”

“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”

“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”

You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.

“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”

“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”

“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday. 

Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.

[lila-went-missing]

Can I have a whipped!Clarisse x sunshine!reader headcannons or one shot idk (could reader be either a Hecate daughter or just unspecified?) :3

Have a nice day/night

Ugh, I love Grumpy X Sunshine.

Clarisse x Sunshine!Reader Headcannons

Okay, literally no one expected you two to start dating.

Plot-twist of the century vibes.

You're so sweet and kind to everyone, offering your magical insight to anyone who asks you.

And she's so tough and brutal all the time, always picking fights with people over the smallest things.

Literal polar opposites, but opposites attract.

I feel like she would be pining over you from the moment you met.

Something about you drew her in. Maybe the way you carried yourself, maybe it was your natural talent for magic.

Either way, she's so whipped for you.

You have her wrapped around your finger without even trying.

I feel like she's the kind of person to practice what she's going to say to you before she actually asks you out.

I can just imagine her pacing around her cabin when no one is around whispering the script she made in preparation.

Because of her dad constantly ignoring her, and what little attention she does get being him telling her that she'll never be good enough, or never as good as her brothers, she has a MASSIVE fear of rejection.

That really plays a role in how she asks you out.

She'd literally be so nervous it's not even funny.

When she does eventually ask you out there is a lot of stuttering and stumbling over words.

You would probably be in your cabin, just finishing brewing a potion when she comes to you.

You can't help but laugh at how nervous she is, finding it rather adorable.

Obviously she gets really offended and tries to leave, telling you to forget she said anything in the first place.

You pull her back to you and kiss her.

"I wasn't laughing to make fun of you, I was laughing because you're cute."

From that moment on, her protectiveness SKYROCKETS.

Someone looks at you wrong? They're in the infirmary getting stitches.

Someone calls you a freak because of your mom being Hecate? She's lost dessert privileges for the next five months.

Eventually you do have to talk to her and tell her to tone it down.

But that just ends in y'all making out on her bed.

How is she supposed to be serious when her girlfriend is sitting there looking so pretty and perfect, and her lips are just so kissable.

SPEAKING OF, you can't tell me this girl isn't obsessed with kissing you.

Doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, she will kiss you at any point in time.

Lips, forehead, nose, cheek, neck, shoulder, you name it.

She could literally be about to break someones bones until you come up.

The mood switch is IMMEDIATE.

From "I will literally murder you." to "Oh hey baby, how was your day." and just kissing all over your face.

It gives everyone whiplash.

But they get used to it eventually.

She's just so in love with you.

You're literally the first person to ever show her what it's like to genuinely be loved and not just wanted as a weapon.

You're the first and only person she says "I love you" to.

You're especially the first person and only person she means it to.

It takes her a while to open up because she hates being perceived as weak or soft. After a while though, she will start coming to you with her problems.

She'll occasionally come to your cabin in the middle of the night after having a nightmare, usually about you dying.

She never wants to talk about it, she just wants you to hold her until she falls back asleep.

Everyone in both of your cabins comes to love y'all.

I like to think that Ares cabin is sworn to a mutual secrecy because almost all of them have someone they sneak in at night to cuddle.

But they all have a reputation to uphold no one talks about it.

If you think regular Clarisse likes to cuddle, Whipped!Clarisse is 10x worse.

She'll never admit it, but cuddling you is one of her favorite things ever.

Her guilty pleasure is laying on your chest or being the little spoon.

She just likes the feeling of being held by the only person she's ever loved.

This ended up being A LOT longer than expected. Sorry (not really) y'all, went on a tangent.

[suugarbabe]

Heyy! I was wondering if you could write mattheo riddle x reader with prompts 49 and or 33 please? Fluff xx thanks xx 💗

(33) I can't believe I've never seen this side of you before

(49) I never knew that about you. It's cute

Today fucking sucked. There was no better way to put it. You needed a break from everything, from everyone, just needed to get away and be by yourself. That's how you found yourself on the dock of the black lake, just looking out into the water. You were leaning against one of the pillars, likely hidden from anyone's view that walked by, which was exactly what you wanted. So when you heard footsteps on the dock you froze, pressing your back further into the pillar, just wanting to disappear. You seemed to be doing a good job as you watched Mattheo go up to the edge of the dock, sitting down with his legs crossed to grab what looked like a muggle pencil and sketchbook out of his bag. Your curiosity was peaked at this point and you couldn't stop your mouth as the words came tumbling out, "What are you doing?" Mattheo nearly jumped out of his skin, whipping his head around at the direction of your voice, "Merlin's fucking beard, y/n. When the hell did you get here?" You stood, walking over to him before sitting back down next to him, "I've been here for nearly an hour. Now, tell me what you're doing?" If Mattheo was good at anything, it was avoiding answering questions he didn't want to, "What are you doing? You're just sitting here doing nothing by yourself?" You rolled your eyes, "I had a bad day okay, I come out here to be by myself when I don't want to verbally assault anyone." He smirked at this, "I'd love to see you do that actually, you wanna head back now?" He jutted his thumb over his shoulder back towards the castle. You scoffed, pushing his shoulder, "Okay, Riddle. What are you really doing out here? Why do you have muggle shit with you? That's not like you." He got a little sheepish now, "Oh this stuff, it's nothing. I just come out here to..." he mumbled the end of his sentence, so low you couldn't even make out what he said. "M'sorry, what was that?" you leaned in a little closer, cupping your ear dramatically. He dropped his shoulders, looking up towards the sky like the drama king he was, "I...draw. The muggle way...no magic just like...sketch and stuff." He cheeks were turning more and more pink the longer he spoke, but you had nothing smart to say back to him. You actually kind of admired his secret hobby. "I never knew that about you...it's cute." Your comment had his eyes on yours, "Really?" You nodded, "Really, do you have anything you've done in there? I'd love to see them." You would think he was a kid being told he could buy all the sweets he wanted from Honeydukes the way his eyes lit up, quickly flipping through his sketch pad to pick his favorites to show you. He really was good too, catching all the right details of a Grindylow down to the mischief in it's eyes you've seen as they swim past the windows in the common room. He attention to detail was immaculate. If he charmed it just right, you could swear the Thestral he drew was just a shrunken version of the real thing. You weren't able to see them with your own eyes, but you knew what it was from textbooks. You heart ached slightly from the realization that Mattheo was probably able to see them from a very young age, given his family history. Again you found your mouth unable to keep the words from tumbling out as you spoke, "I can't believe I've never seen this side of you before." Mattheo chucked at this, "Yeah, well I don't exactly go around advertising I'm a sensitive ninny who plays with muggle shit." You shrugged, "I like this version of Mattheo Riddle. You don't always have to have such a stern face and flying fists." You mocked his usual face that he displayed, playfully punching his arm. He smiled shyly, "Well, thank you...I guess. I'm sorry you had a shit day today, though Y/n, truly. Maybe next time it happens you come grab me? We can come back here? I won't make you talk about it, but I'll just draw and you can sit like you were before, but that way neither of us have to be alone." You don't think you had ever agreed to something so quickly.

[gloomy-prince]

Original vs New RAINBOW! comic comparison!! It's not completely exhaustive but I've given some insight on the original version, just because it's fun to compare and they actually still have a lot of similarities despite it all! There's going to be a lot of jumping around though as some things happen in a different order. This will be long too, so it's under the cut!

I will preface this by saying that even the newer pages are still a few years old and have been edited for the book release, but I couldn't be bothered to find where I saved them, so these versions are a little out of date. The most obvious difference is that Boo has pink eyes in them, where as now they are green. So, enjoy that tidbit I suppose.

Boo recalls why she was demoted from waitressing

She was demoted for the same reason, though in the original, Boo is explaining this to the audience as she talks about her job. The original version had much, much more internal dialogue from Boo. The way that our comics work is that Sunny writes them in a novel form and I adapt them into a comic, rather than them being comic scripts from the get-go. This allows us to both work our own creative muscles in the process. So originally, I had not yet learned that different mediums call for different means of storytelling and I just copied a lot of her thoughts outright and put them directly into the comic, where as in the new version, I add in her internal dialogue pretty sparingly. So get used to lots of Boo's thoughts in the original.

Also, fun fact, in the original Boo has spilled coffee on me, Sunny, and one of my friends @mxbloodybooart on the left.

Boo daydreams of dancing with a prince

Her daydream is much shorter and less immersive in the original version, only lasting a single panel. A lot of telling and not showing in the original due to getting so much of Boo's direct thoughts. She also bumps into Milo, but doesn't cause him to drop anything as she does in the new version.

Mimi shows up at the cafe

In the original, this is Mimi's first appearance, where as now, Boo has already seen Mimi punch someone and her imagination has gone completely haywire over her, so she is pretty nervous to interact with her. Since Boo doesn't have any of this context in the original, she is merely intrigued by someone who has a style that stands out as much as she does, even if it's in a different way.

Drunk Debbie sleeping on the couch

Our first style change in the original version! Really a style evolution though.

Technically this page is pretty similar, but with a much more devastating line from Boo in the new version along with several cans around to imply Debbie probably passed out drunk, where as in the original you really only see her asleep on the couch. Boo also still has the same cute little teddy bear backpack in the original.

Boo takes the bus to school

Boo is implied to be bullied in the new version and utilizes her imagination to drown it out, while in the original she merely talks about feeling different. The bunny head on her shirt is a callback to the bunny shirt she's wearing in the original. Sunny and I are cameoing in both versions as the students sitting in the seat in front of Boo, featuring egg!me in the original version as I was probably 15 when I drew it. It also still apparently rains on her way to work in the original version, although this is never seen because she takes the bus to work rather than bike as she does now, so who knows why she called that out.

Boo daydreams in class

Boo daydreams that her classmates are monsters, though in the original, she also dreams that she is a princess. Some of the monster designs were kept. She doesn't get in trouble for calling her teacher a witch (even though she does still say that, it's only in her imagination) but for laughing and spacing out during class instead.

Boo sees Mimi at school

Originally Boo does not see Mimi punch another student, but rather hears her arguing with the principal after the fact about why she did it and then sees her leave the office. This is also not the first time she's seen Mimi, so she recognizes her, where as this is Mimi's first appearance in the new version.

Boo meets with Mr Dahl

Since she was not a witness to the altercation between Mimi and the other student in the original, her visit with Mr Dahl is much shorter, only concerning her getting in trouble in math class. Mr Dahl is the same character, but in the original he was the principal, and now he's the dean. Also Mimi apparently KNOCKED SOMEONE'S TEETH OUT in the original, where as now she just gave him a bloody nose, so let's just hope Boo is exaggerating here.

Boo mistakes another student in the hall for Mimi

Pretty similar, though the student she bumps into is more of a jerk in the original.

Boo is plagued by daydreams of Mimi

Pretty good example of how the over reliance on internal dialogue diminished the actual story. Originally there is only one shot of Boo seeing Mimi at school, which very well could have been the real Mimi, and Boo simply saying she was seeing her when she wasn't there, so we have to take her word for it. In the new version, she might plausibly think she is seeing her at first, only to start seeing more and more of her to the point of seeing multiple Mimi's in the same place, making it clear that they can't all be real, or that possibly none of them are real. The only dialogue is Boo expressing confusion.

and oh, look at that! another cameo of egg!me and Sunny in the original, waving at each other in the hallway! I am also cameoing in the new version as a student sleeping at the desk in the fourth period panel, but Sunny is not.

Milo tries to cover for Boo

Art style change again! You might notice this one is finally starting to look more similar to my current style than the previous ones, as it all evolved from here...

Originally, Milo accidentally scares Boo and causes her to drop some plates, where as now, Boo bumped into Milo while having her princely dancing daydream and made him drop the plates. Clarice was originally pretty eager to accept Milo's lie and allow Boo a second chance at waitressing while now, Clarice asks Boo to admit the truth before she is willing to give her any chances. Clarice now is also dressed in green to differentiate her as the owner/manager.

Boo gets to be a waitress again

An obvious homage to the original version, the layout is almost exactly the same, and even some of the customers are the same. Another really good example of how much internal dialogue there was in the original compared to now.

Boo serves Mimi her coffee

This one is not all that different aside from the fact that originally, Boo was already delivering the coffee before she knew who it was for, just which table, where as now, Boo knows beforehand that it's for Mimi and is nervous the whole time. This is the final page in the original version, so I made the final panel in the new one as an homage to it. The color scheme was also finally really starting to expand on this last page compared to the colors in the beginning.

[midnightechoes]

Five years ago today, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power premiered on Netflix. I had seen a few preview articles about it, and liked what I saw. Those articles mostly focused on She-Ra’s, Adora’s, Glimmer’s, Bow’s, and Catra’s redesigns, and I thought they were fabulous. I loved Adora’s new red jacket and bouffant hair style. Glimmer’s entire redesign was inspired, and I loved that they made Bow black so we could have more diversity in the main cast.

It was She-Ra’s and Catra’s redesigns that caught my eyes the most, though. They made Catra an actual catgirl, and not just in the anime sense where she's just a cute girl with cat ears and maybe a cat tail. She was a full-on furry. It was a brilliant design choice. Honestly it’s no wonder that so many were instantly drawn to her.

And of course, She-Ra herself. I loved her new look, and her huge ass new Sword of Protection. In fact, I loved it so much that I drew this picture of her before the show even came out:

Then the show came out, and needless to say, I fell in love. And honestly, it changed my life.

I know, I know. That sounds very hyperbolic, and to an extent it is, but in a lot of ways, I’m absolutely serious.

Alright, I have to back up a little. Back when I was in college, and for a few years after, a couple of friends and I tried to make a webcomic called The Devil’s Gate. It was minorly successful but eventually floundered. Then I met some people and we tried to make a video game, which also failed. After those few years, I found myself on my own and trying to rework the concept of my webcomic. Making comics, creating stories, those have always been my dream, and I was desperately trying to figure out a story I could make work, something that I believed in. But it never truly got off the ground. By the end of 2015 I had given up on the comic, realizing that after working on it for years in different forms that I needed to step away from it.

I didn’t really know what to do after that. I was still doing my quick daily doodles, but I wasn’t writing, I wasn’t drawing anything of note. I felt emotionally and physically drained of my creativity. I was honestly getting to the point where I thought it might be time for me to give up on trying to be creative or making things all together.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power came out on November 13, 2018, but despite looking forward to it, I didn’t actually watch it when it came out. It wasn’t until that weekend that I decided to check it out.

I was instantly hooked. I binged through the entire season in two days, and did plenty of crying and cheering. And then rewatched it immediately. I was in love. I was obsessed. It had been a long time since anything grabbed me like SPOP did. I loved the characters. I loved the colorful, sci-fi-fairy tale world of Etheria. I loved how unapologetically feminine it was. And most of all, I loved how queer it was.

I hadn’t done a ton of shipping before SPOP. I’ve been down bad for harlivy for what feels like my whole life, and I was angry when Mika and HG didn’t get together in Warehouse 13, but more often than not I had just been conditioned not to look for queer things in mainstream culture, and even barely in subculture.

That is to say, when I was smashed in the face with Catradora I was surprised how much I glommed onto it immediately. I was absolutely taken with Adora and Catra and their relationship. Both characters were so relatable, and despite not quite being text (although the subtext was so loud and obvious it might as well have been text), it was impossible to not read their feelings for each other as romantic.

It wasn’t just Catradora, even if that was a lot of it. Spinnerella and Netossa being canon from the start was wonderful. How much Glimmer and Bow screamed “BISEXUAL DISASTERS” from the start was adorable. Scorpia’s crush on Catra was as cute as it was sad in its one-sidedness.

I had never really been in a fandom. That is, yeah I’ve liked things, loved things even, but I never found other people to talk about it at length, never found discords just for that thing, never read or wrote fanfic, barely ever drew fanart. 

But, I watched SPOP, and then I watched it again. And then I drew Catra. And then I drew Adora. And then I drew them again. And suddenly I was on AO3, a site I never frequented, reading Catradora fics. And then I had an AO3 account. That December I participated in Catradora Week 2018 (I’d never heard of this kind of thing) and drew two pictures for it and wrote my first fanfic.

By the end of February I had drawn more in the three months since the show had premiered than I had in the previous year. I was working furiously on a long, multi-chapter fanfic, and writing more words than I had in the previous couple of years combined.

I was inspired again.

In the 18 months that SPOP ran for, I drew more than I had in years, I wrote hundreds of thousands of words. I felt so rejuvenated and happy about my creativity and free for the first time in years.

It’s hard to put into words exactly how it felt. I was so close to giving up my art and writing, which honestly, would have been giving up a part of myself. An important part of myself. It’s not overstating that SPOP saved me, or at least my creative spirit.

I also learned about the wonders of being in a fandom and fandom things like fan weeks, big bangs, zines. And I made some wonderful friends that I cherish to this day.

Even as I inevitably moved onto other hyperfixations, my love for She-Ra hasn’t diminished. Plushie Catra and Adora sit next to me on my desk every day. Catradora art still hangs on my wall.

The inspiration that SPOP ignited in me hasn’t died either. It’s carried me through a tremendous level of creativity that I’ve been riding since the premiere. It let me create a ton of fan art for SPOP, and then RWBY and then the Witch From Mercury, and I’ve written a ton of fanfics for RWBY and Supergirl. And perhaps the best, that inspiration has helped me create more OC stuff in the last couple years than I had in a long time.

I owe She-Ra and The Princesses of Power so much. I am so happy that it exists and that it happened when it did. I’ll always cherish it.

And for real, Netflix, SPOP spin-off movies WHEN?!

[minniepetals]

yellow lights

— summary: who would have thought your coworkers would mean more to you than you initially thought a year later?

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: fluff, poly!au, office!au, established relationship

— word count: 7.0k

— warnings: none

— commission for @vickyyy97

“Someone looks happy today. Who’s got you smiling like that, darling?” You look over at Seokjin who greets you the second you walk into the office today, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Was it a man?” He asks and you feel heat slowly rising upon your cheeks.

He takes note of that.

“Well actually, u-um,” you scratch the back of your head, trying to play it cool but knowing nothing can ever get past the Kim Seokjin.

“No way! You’re serious?” Someone else comes up from the other side of the room and you turn to find Jimin and Taehyung walking over, the older of the 95 liner holding a hand over his gaped mouth as if this was the most shocking news he’s ever heard in his life.

“I never knew you had a man in your life already, Y/N,” Taehyung says with an arm coming over to pull you into a headlock as he ruffles your hair.

“Tae!” You whine, pouting slightly at his antics. “I don’t have a man but there was this cute barista I saw just a few blocks away.”

“Damn! She’s now taken!” He smacks his hands over his heart in a dramatic gesture you have to push him off you a bit so the coffee in your hand doesn’t spill over.

“I’m not,” you reiterate.

“But there’s a chance, yeah?” Seokjin says as he takes your coffee cup without permission to show off the number written there. “He gave you his number.”

“That’s…” You avert your eyes, biting your lower lip.

“Ooh, look at that,” Jimin takes the cup in his hand, examining it with a playful snicker, “he drew a little heart.”

“Stop it guys, you’re embarrassing.” You try to take your coffee back, only they don’t give you a chance.

“Hey if it doesn’t work out, you can always come back into my arms to cry, yeah? I’ll always be right here to cheer you up.” Despite how playful he sounds right now, you know there’s always a high chance Taehyung means it more than anything. It doesn’t take over the fact that his constant flirting doesn’t always get you worked up, however.

“I-I don’t think I’ll be needing it but uh, thanks for the offer.”

“Well, whatever happens,” you see Seokjin take the coffee back from Jimin who’s still laughing over the little note the barista gave you, in order to hand it back to you, “as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” 

You feel a light pat on your head, a gentle gesture he tends to do when he wishes to cheer you up. 

Ah. How sweet.

You feel your heart skip a beat.

“...Thanks Jin.”

.

.

.

“I never took you as a coffee person.” Yoongi, on the more quiet side, as compared to the rest of the boys, gives you a small raise in his brow when he takes note of the coffee you have on your desk for the third day in a row. “I thought you preferred tea or...other things.”

You did once speak on drink preferences though you never thought Yoongi would ever take note of them seriously because they were always just small talks that led to no direction. Yet here he is, raising a brow at the coffee you have.

“Is it the barista?” He asks and you know by now the boys probably all know your encounter with the cute barista a few blocks down the street. When you feel your cheeks heating up, you hear Yoongi let out a small chuckle. “I get it, Y/N. Feelings always start off with the infatuation you have for someone, but you have to keep in mind not to force anything you dislike for someone else. What’re you going to do when you’re unhappy just to keep someone else happy? That isn’t exactly healthy, now is it?”

“You sound like my mom always giving me life lessons,” Hoseok comes in with rolled eyes over his hyung’s words. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Even if you are, it’s not like they can’t talk things over once they get closer. Isn’t that right?” Hoseok turns to you, putting you on the spot and making you freeze up.

“W-well, yes. I suppose so.”

“Well.” Yoongi lets out a sigh. “If you aren’t going to drink the coffee, just order a black coffee and I’ll drink it for you the next time you return.”

And so it becomes a routine where you’re rushing in the morning, ordering the black coffee just to have a small conversation with the cute barista before it’s time for work and once you’re in, Yoongi takes the coffee for you, drinking it.

For a good time it goes on like this; the constant teasing from the boys, Namjoon scolding them, and Yoongi sitting back to enjoy the show with his free coffee every morning.

Though at times you feel Taehyung’s flirty comments are much more common than usual, Seokjin’s a little gentler, Jimin’s a little touchier, Jungkook’s a bit more pouty and cranky, Hoseok’s by your side more often, Yoongi more willing to engage in conversations rather than his usual responses of “mhm” and “yes” or “no,” and Namjoon being more observant.

Perhaps it’s the change in the seasons, perhaps it’s the new project the team’s working on, or perhaps they’re just looking out for you because you’re still a bit new to everything and they don’t want you getting hurt or taken advantage of.

They’re kind after all. Ever since the first day you joined the company since your move here, the boys have been nothing but kind and welcoming towards you, helping you out in areas you need to improve on, exchanging numbers, offering to hang out outside work hours, and just anything and everything for you in order to help you feel more comfortable.

It’s sweet having people looking out for you.

“Date?” One late night with just you and Jungkook left behind, you decide to relay the news to him as the two of you finally finish off for the night. “Well finally, seems like that bastard wasn’t ever going to pick up the guts to ask you out.” He sounds a bit irritated, as he usually would when the topic of the barista is brought up. “So then, where you going?”

“He said he’ll be taking me out to dinner.”

“Dinner, huh? So you’ll be dressing up all nice and pretty for him, huh?”

“Well-” You cut yourself off, looking off to the side with a hand hovered over your cheeks. “It’s..the normal thing to do, right? When..one goes on a date?”

“I guess,” he shrugs, sounding bored with his hands in his pockets.

“I haven’t done this in a while, I’m kind of nervous. Though to be honest, I don’t really enjoy one-on-one meal dates too much, especially with someone I don’t really know that well. I mean even though I find him cute and nice it’s just…hm, I don’t know. It’s just nerve-wracking I guess.”

“Really? Dinner dates aren’t your thing?” Jungkook looks over at you, a bit surprised.

“I just get too much social anxiety,” you chuckle nervously his way. “I mean, there’s always a chance my date might ditch me and I’ll end up sitting there being awkwardly stared at by other customers and the waiter will also be placed in an awkward position. Not to mention the food choices are way too many to choose from and you can never really guess what will be good and what will not. Plus I’m just an awkward person in general when it comes to one-on-one interaction over a formal occasion. What if he finds me boring?”

“He’d be a fool if he did,” he mutters under his breath.

“Huh?”

Jungkook clears his throat, speaking louder this time. “I said that’s stupid to be worrying over.”

“Oh.” You blink. “Is it?”

“I’m not saying it’s–” He pauses, takes a breath in and out before speaking again. “What I meant was, you shouldn’t worry about that because you’re not boring. Well, not to me.”

“Ha ha, that totally helped release all of my anxieties at once.”

“I’m just saying,” he purses his lips into a small pout, “I mean I get awkward with people all the time because I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to keep a conversation going but I’ve never been uncomfortable with you. You’ve never made me feel bored and I’ve never had a thought of wanting to get out of a conversation with you so it’d be dumb if that bastard did. I’m the most awkward person on Earth. I’m sure you’ll do fine with him.”

You giggle at the way Jungkook seems to shy away after giving you a few compliments, his ears a little red, head turned off to the side but you catch sight of the slight blush on his cheeks under the night sky.

“Thanks, Jungkook.”

“Come on,” he rushes forward, opening the passenger side of the door for you in order to snap out of his embarrassment. “Get in, I’ll take you home.”

.

.

.

“Uh, what? You want me to spy on Y/N?” Namjoon looks the maknaes dead in the eyes before turning his back to them, returning to the coffee maker in the break room. “No. I’m on a break, stop bothering me.”

“Oh come on hyung!” Taehyung whines as he tugs on the hem of Namjoon’s blazer.

“If you’re that desperate to see how her date goes, why don’t you go yourself?” He pauses. “Actually, that’s a bad idea.”

“Yeah exactly! Taehyung and I both know we’d do a horrible job and get noticed right away, which will put Y/N in an awkward situation, and Jungkook here has anger issues so if that barista does something wrong, he’s also bound to get noticed.”

“Listen, I know I have my problems but hearing it out loud still hurts, you know.”

“The truth hurts, maknae.” Jimin pats his head, causing him to frown even deeper. “And Yoongi hyung,” he turns back to Namjoon again, “he’s also bound to punch the dude if something goes wrong. Jin and Hoseok hyung are great candidates but they’re working that day. You’re the only one available, hyung.”

“I’m also working that day.”

“You get out early.”

“How is it that you know my schedule so well, Park Jimin?” Coffee done and set in a cup, Namjoon turns back to the three of them, letting out a heavy sigh. “Can’t you just let it go? Y/N can’t keep staying under our wings forever. She’s a grown woman capable of taking care of herself.”

“Yes, yes, but what if something goes wrong?” Jungkook says, the three of them still holding their stance.

“Seems like you want it to go wrong.” Namjoon takes a sip of his drink, staring them down.

“Whaaat? Now why would I want that? Y/N’s happiness matters most of all and if that happiness is with the barista, why would I wanna intervene?”

“You’re gritting your teeth.”

He avoids eye contact, not even wanting to deny Namjoon’s accusation as he places his hands in his pockets.

In the end, the maknaes’ persuasion skills are much more in effect as they manage to rope Namjoon into their shenanigans, so when the day comes, the man finds himself being there to be the witness to how your date with the barista goes.

And unfortunately on your end, it doesn’t go too well.

“You…have a girlfriend?” You look at the phone he has in his hand when he turns around, surprised you caught him in the act when he excused himself to pick up a call, only to leave you in that restaurant for some time so you decided to step out to check up on him and now here you are, staring at a man who holds onto a dumb expression because he got caught.

“Who’s that?” You hear a voice from the other line of his phone and Woosung turns around for a second again, putting the phone back to his ear as he whispers “I’ll call you back” before turning back shamelessly around with an awkward smile.

You bite your lower lip, feeling like a fool as your shoulders keep their tense state and you take a step back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Things were rocky,” he says, “we still are–”

“That doesn’t make it right to go around and sweeten up to other girls,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear the excuses. “If you wanted another relationship, you should have broken up with your girlfriend first but instead here you are, making a fool out of me, using me as a side piece. If things went back to normal with your girlfriend, you were just going to toss me off to the side, weren’t you? Or use me as a secret affair?”

“Y/N-”

“Don’t say my name, please.” You take a few more steps back, feeling lightheaded and done. “Don’t contact me again. Delete my number, please.”

You turn to walk off, only to have your wrist pulled back.

“Hear me out-”

“I don’t want to hear anything!” You try to pull your arm back to get away from him but his grip is too tight for you to actually do much. “Let me go. You have a girlfriend.”

“I’ll break up with her,” Woosung tries to concede but you can only scoff in his face.

“Are you serious? If you can go around her back and try to get with other girls, you can do that to me too.”

“Y/N-”

“Let go,” you beg, feeling your voice crack as the tears finally begin to form upon the forceful way he holds onto you, not wanting to release his grip no matter how much you try to escape. “Please, I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, I-”

Just as you feel a drop of tear about to fall from your eye, a foreign hand is placed right upon your eyes to block your vision, the sling of arm he has on you pulling you back against his chest and a voice rumbles from the depths of his throat.

“Do not ever waste your tears on spoiled milk, sweetheart, do not let him think he has power over you,” the voice says, a voice you recognize, a voice that begins to fight off the fear you had thinking you were alone and no one would help you out of this situation. Suddenly the hand isn’t so foreign anymore and you find yourself relaxing a bit into that chest of his.

“Mind letting go of that precious hand, buddy?” Namjoon says, his voice dropping an octave when he addresses your admirer. “We don’t want to make a scene here now do we? Unless you do, and in that case, I can definitely give you a show.”

When he doesn’t say a word in response, too frightened at how grave Namjoon sounds, your rescuer lets out a scoff before giving you a squeeze on the shoulder to let you know that you were to be leaving.

He turns you around, taking his hand off your eyes, but not from your shoulder, and guiding you away from the scene, knowing not to leave you alone until the two of you were finally away from the sight of Woosung.

“You alright?” Only then does Namjoon let you go and take a step back, watching to make sure you don’t look too uncomfortable.

Yet his hands being placed on you wasn’t the problem, it was the fact that you just found out the guy you thought was interested in you had a girlfriend all along, and in the shameful feeling you’re suddenly forced to face tonight, your head lowers to the ground, unable to look Namjoon in the eyes.

“Sorry you had to…see that.”

“Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for.” He hands you a tissue to which you take, wiping your tears despite it still coming down, and when it seems as if they won’t stop any time soon, Namjoon takes the initiative to take a step forward and pull you into his arms, embracing you in the way you need it.

You bury your face into his chest as he holds you, the night breeze flying past with nothing but the sound of a few cars passing by and your little sniffles, and in this very moment, all you can think is that Namjoon’s arms feel so warm, so comfortable, and so kind.

Just what you need.

Just what you needed.

“Sorry,” you croak out again, voice sounding a little more broken but Namjoon shakes his head as he holds you tighter.

“It’s alright.”

“I probably look like a fool,” you say and yet he shakes his head.

“None of this was your fault.”

“I should have known,” you pull back just slightly to wipe at your eyes, “all men, whether in Korea or elsewhere, has the audacity to be such assholes.”

“Hmm, you’re right. In one way or another, everyone’s the same.”

You look up at him, sight a little blurry. “Why’re you not defending men or saying ‘not all men’?”

“Because that’d piss you off,” you scoff, “and I know how we can be.”

“But you…” You bite onto your lower lip, staring down at his white dress shirt as tear stains and some bits of your makeup managed to fall upon them — a sight he doesn’t care to pay attention to. You now feel embarrassed for a different reason. “I probably look like a mess right now, I’m so sorry,” you cry, hating the sight of your mascara wet on your fingers.

“You’re cute,” Namjoon chuckles and you give him a little punch on the chest, wanting to hide your embarrassment and only causing him to laugh a little more.

“How’d you know to even find me? How’d you even get there in the first place? It was like you were already there.”

“Well…” When he hesitates, you look back up at him, blinking.

“Don’t tell me Jungkook set you up to this?”

“Not just him.”

The maknaes. “Of course it’s them.” You let out a sigh. “I’m kind of surprised with how protective they seem to be, they didn’t come here themselves and sent you instead.”

“They sent me because they knew if something went wrong, they wouldn’t be able to stop themselves before that barista has a couple of bruises on his face.”

You laugh a little at that sentiment. “Well aren’t they aware.”

“If I tell them you cried, I wonder what they’d do.”

“Don’t!” You quickly say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to make sure he knows just how serious you are. “I already told them where Woosung works at so if they know what he did, who knows what they’d do.”

“Are you that worried?”

“They have absolutely no care for what other people think of them so of course I’m worried.” You quickly wipe the remaining tears left on your face. “I don’t want to be the reason someone gets hurt.”

“I suppose I can leave out a few details.”

“Thanks, Namjoon.” You look around the empty streets of the night, feeling a bit awkward now that things are starting to calm down. “And..thanks…for being there…..and here, right now.”

Namjoon lets out a light chuckle. “Mr. Bang told us to look out for our newbie, didn’t he?” He says, a light reminder of your company CEO’s words to them when you first joined. “Though even without him saying so, we’d still be taking care of you.”

You smile up his way, knowing that if he hadn’t been here tonight, a different outcome would have occurred and you aren’t sure how you would have been able to deal with things were it not for him.

.

.

.

“Sorry you won’t be getting your usual free coffee anymore.” When you take a seat beside Yoongi the next day, something tells you he probably knows the actual full story about what happened the night before unlike the three younger ones. Namjoon probably felt it safe to tell the older ones and that you wouldn’t blame him for it.

He’s right.

Before the man can reply, Jimin’s sliding his chair on over with a comment of his own. “Who cares? Hyung can get his own coffee and there’s always plenty of fishes in the sea.”

“He’s right, I’m a fish,” Taehyung says with a smirk sent your way. “I’m a great fish.”

You laugh a little at that. “It’s alright guys. He was cute but I forgot that pretty faces don't always mean pretty hearts.”

“I’m literally right in front of you but go off.” Taehyung sits himself on Jimin’s lap with a roll of his eyes, causing you to giggle.

“I knew he was a red flag,” Jungkook joins in with his arms leaning over your desk. “Everything about the dude screamed red flag.”

“You never even met him.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t tell,” he argues. “If you ask me, even Taehyung’s a better candidate.”

“See, what’d I tell you?” The older one is quick to agree as his eyes light up. “Why don’t you give me a chance, sweetheart? I’d never break your heart.”

“That’s a lie,” you laugh.

He pouts. “Why would you say that? You don’t trust me?”

“I’m just saying it’s inevitable to break someone’s heart whether you mean to or not. That’s just what happens when you’re in a relationship right? Not everything is smooth sailing.”

“Well, you can break my heart anytime.”

“Alright, alright, stop bothering me and get back to your stations already.” When Yoongi finally speaks up among the conversation you seemed to attract without meaning to, the three boys are quick to obey their hyung’s words, sitting up and scattering to their destination after a quick wave of goodbye your way.

You yourself were just about to return to your own station when Yoongi stops you mid-way.

“By the way,” he starts, allowing you to look back at him, “Stop apologizing, you’ll wear yourself out.”

It’s blunt the way he says it but you know that Yoongi always means well so it makes your insides warm hearing him giving you kind words in return to what you initially came to him for.

.

.

.

“So, what do you think about this?”

Hoseok takes a glance at your computer screen before looking back at you, whose eyes seem to look slightly dreary despite the excitement settled in them. 

“I think you need to take a break,” he says and you’re quick to frown.

“Come on, Hoseok, just look it over for a second, yeah? I promise I’ll stop bothering after.”

“You said that last time.”

“I really promise this time!” 

“No, you’re lying,” he says with a poke at your forehead, forcing your head to get pushed back away from him. “You’ve been working too hard these days you might actually collapse soon and what kind of sunbae would I be if I didn’t look out for my hoobae’s health?”

“But I’m fine-”

He knows all too well the sudden shift in focus you’ve had on work ever since the failed date with the barista down the street, a sort of focus that forces you to work much too hard and way too much than needed.

“Come on, it’s almost midnight.”

“And?”

You’ve even forgotten what tomorrow implies. 

He takes ahold of your chair, rolling it away from your computer so he can make sure everything’s saved before shutting it off, causing you to groan in response, yet when he goes on to get your jacket, you’re reluctantly obedient. 

“Have you forgotten what today is?” He asks and you look at your phone.

“The twenty-second of January. Why?”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“The twenty-third.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course you’ve forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?” Wide eyes, innocent and curious, totally oblivious as you allow him to help you put your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. 

Hoseok looks out the window and you follow his eyes, wondering why the night sky has caught his attention, but when there’s nothing there and he says nothing in reply to your question, you go on to gather your things just as he checks his watch.

“Are you free right now?” He asks, not looking up from his watch.

“I have a few minutes to spare.”

“Just a few?”

You chuckle. “I’m free, Hoseok.”

“Great.” He takes a step from where you are gathering your things, sliding up from behind and leans right into your ear. “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

It’s so soft and quiet against your ear but you know you haven’t misheard a thing just as the phone on the desk lights up and you see that it’s 12:00 am, the twenty-third of January; your 26th birthday.

“Come on then,” he takes your bag before you can protest, walking off to have you chasing him right behind, “we’ve got plans.”

“Plans?” You blink, hurrying to keep up. “Wait, what do you mean ‘we’?”

Yet you receive no answer as he takes you in his car and drives off with a grin on his face, leaving you wondering with anticipation for what’s to happen.

It doesn’t take long before the two of you arrive at some sort of park you don’t think you’ve ever visited before.

“Why are we here?” You ask and yet all you receive is Hoseok’s hand asking you to just trust him and follow along. You take his hand and he leads you toward the inner part of the park until you’re standing right before a fountain. “How pretty,” you say, wondering why you never took the chance to ever come to such a place before. “Hoseok, you–”

When you turn around to address the man who brought you here in the first place, there’s no one in sight.

“Hoseok?” You call for him, confused as you begin to look around.

Just then, lights begin to appear.

Pretty little fairy lights decorated along the lampposts and hedges of the part. Bright white and golden all around, leaving you to only stare in awe at the sudden burst of lights gleaming all around while you stand in the center of it all, heart picking up its pace at just how pretty everything looks.

All for you.

No one’s ever done something as grand as this for you, not even your closest friend,s and yet here you are, cherished by people whom you’ve known for only a year or so.

“Do you like it?”

You turn at the familiar voice to see Hoseok with a grin, and just behind him stands the rest of the guys who share the same sentiment.

“Like it?” Words can’t even begin to describe. “I..”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Are you crying?!” Seokjin’s the first to rush up to you when he sees your hands raising up to your face, taking them in his and blowing his warm breath onto them to warm it up as Yoongi presses both his gloved hands upon your cheeks. “Don’t cry now, this was supposed to make you happy.”

“I am happy,” you say as a few tears slip. “I’m really happy.”

“Are you sure because crying usually means—”

“I promise,” you cut Yoongi off when you see the serious frown he has on his face, a sign of worry as he frets over your tears. “I promise I’m happy.”

“You have such an odd way of proving you’re happy,” he grumbles under his breath, causing you to let out a laugh.

“We have cake but I don’t think you’d be able to blow out the candles in this windy environment.”

January is still Winter after all.

“That’s alright,” you say to Jimin, “we can just pretend the fire’s on.”

And so he goes on to get the cake with Taehyung in toll, and in the middle of the pretty park they’ve taken the time to show you, a soft birthday song rings in the air, and when that’s over, you intertwine your fingers together for a wish before blowing out the imaginary fire on the candles.

January is a bit cold, a little worse when the moon has risen high in the sky, but tonight you feel anything but the coldness, not when these seven boys have taken the time to dedicate themselves to making sure you’re having a good time.

.

.

.

“You know if you keep staring at me, you might burn a hole in my face.”

“Hm? What are you talking about?” Hoseok starts, his chin still propped upon his hand, eyes shamelessly staring without a hint of movement anytime soon. You let out a little chuckle, flustered, and hit him lightly on the chest. “What? Do I make you flustered?”

“You’re almost as bad as Taehyung sometimes.”

“What’s wrong with a little flirting?”

“I’m going to take it the wrong way one day,” you tell him as you get up from your seat to head on over to the printer where a few papers await their turn. “I know you’re all joking though but sometimes, well, admittedly,” you hide your face behind your hair, staring straight at the printing machine to finish its job, “my heart does skip a beat...or two.”

“Really?” He says it so nonchalantly you think your reaction is the least bit of his concern. “Hm, then it’s working,” until he says those words.

“Huh?” You look up, flustered, with blinking eyes. “What do you mean it’s…working?”

Hoseok sends you a smirk just as Taehyung slides up along his side, arm draping over the older man’s shoulder with a mirrored smirk.

“Oh I think you know what that means, darling,” the younger one states, his brows wiggling playfully.

You take the collection of papers that have been printed out for you and huddle them close to your chest, not fully comprehending them only because you wouldn’t want to create a misunderstanding and interpret things wrong when it’s actually meant to have a different meaning.

“I..I-I..”

Before you can finish your stuttering, however, a roll of paper comes along to smack both Hoseok and Taehyung on the head.

“Stop flirting during work hours, you know better than that,” Namjoon warns with a firm expression.

“But you know our girl will never get it if we don’t get to the point,” Hoseok argues.

“The point?” You blink.

“Then get to the point.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, looking exasperated by the antics of the group as he joins the crowd with Jungkook, just as Jimin and Seokjin walk through the doors.

It’s clear the seven of them all know exactly what’s going on while you remain standing there in confusion, left to try to interpret things under your own limited understanding unless they decide they want to come out and just say whatever it is they’re holding out on.

“See, look at her. She’s confused.” Yoongi points out, his head beckoning your way to make them look at you.

You freeze under their stares, not…uncomfortable but more so…shy.

“She’s not confused, she knows exactly what’s happening,” Seokjin speaks up, a slight grin resting on his lips as he walks a few steps forward to take your papers for you. They were meant for him in the first place. “She’s just afraid it might turn out to be false,” he says, purposely staring you down with that glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“Now we don’t want any miscommunications around here, do we?” Jimin sneaks up behind you, hands pressed upon your shoulders. “So why don’t you tell our little one exactly what you mean, hyung?” He’s baiting Hoseok, that slyness in his tone not being able to escape your ears especially when he’s so close to you.

As for the older one, he simply remains calm, instead glancing at the maknae. “Didn’t you want to do the honors? You’ve been waiting for the perfect moment, right?”

Jungkook’s cheeks turn red, his face turning to the side in an instant once the attention is brought down to him instead, and while Jimin snickers, Taehyung holds his laugh, Seokjin hides a grin behind his hand, and Namjoon’s expression turns fond, you find the gentleman who became the first friend you made ever since moving to Korea and working alongside him as a new employee to be quite cute.

He’s always been cute from the very beginning.

You’re the closest in age after all, so with him feeling more comfortable to approach you and make you feel comfortable, you found his company to be a delight you enjoyed looking forward to each day you came to work.

And now here he is, almost a year later, flustered like a teenage boy trying to hand his crush a love letter.

And the boys are eating it up.

“Jungkook?” So you call out to him, knowing he may need a little bit of encouragement to tell you the thing he needs to say, all the while preparing your heart just in case the answer you’re seeking turns out to be wrong and you were just misinterpreting things. “It’s alright, take your time.”

“That’s right, maknae, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

You lightly hit Taehyung on the chest. “You’re not helping the boy.”

He laughs in response. “You already know what he’s trying to say so why not save him the embarrassment?”

“Do I?”

“Oh, would you look at that?” Namjoon raises a brow, impressed. “Someone’s feeling cocky.”

“Huh, no I didn’t mean that!” You’re quick to say, hands rushing to wave it off as you become flustered again. “J-Jungkook I didn’t-” You turn to him, stumbling out your words. “Well, I mean, I think I..I-I don’t exactly..-But if it’s what I think it is..-But if it isn’t, uh-”

“Oh god, they’re hopeless,” Jimin laughs aloud before simply squeezing your shoulders as he leans in. “Why don’t we stop the act and just become ours, hm? I think you know we all feel the same way at this point.”

“Hyung what the hell?!” Jungkook suddenly shouts with his mouth held agape, offended his moment was stolen from him.

“You were taking too long!”

“That doesn’t mean you can take the spotlight!”

In the midst of their little dispute, all you can hear is Jimin’s short yet meaningful confession in your ears, one that seems to make your heart race more than any man has ever made it beat before and you stand there right in the center, eyes unblinking, feeling as if the world is slowing down as you hear each beat your heart drums aloud for you.

“So what do you say?!” Taehyung jumps in, leaving Hoseok’s side to drape his arm around you instead.

“You’re both so annoying!” Jungkook yells, his brows furrowed deeply as his lips jut into a pout.

With cheeks heated and heart set aflame, you take the pouty man’s hand and look him straight in the eyes, taking a moment to calm him down so that the whole room can fall silent, before you turn to look at them all, hands trembling a bit when you say;

“Mmn, I’ll…I can…..yeah.”

Their faces brighten in an instant, and in that moment you realize despite how brave and nonchalant they all may seem to appear on the outside, perhaps deep within their hearts, they were just as nervous and frightened of what your answer may be.

And for that you say the words that Jungkook had been meaning to say but was robbed of the opportunity.

“I like you. I like you so…so much.”

.

.

.

Two years later

“Mr. Bang approved the proposal and he told me he’d be able to connect me with some people and-” you let out a scream of delight as you jump around before Seokjin, taking his hands along with you for him to see just how excited you are right now. “I’m ranking up Jin! I’m ranking up! And soon the company’s going to skyrocket and my efforts will be rewarded! It is rewarded! It’s being rewarded!”

Despite the onlookers of passersby taking quick glances at the two of you as you jump for joy, Seokjin simply smiles fondly at the pretty girl before him, looking her happiest and knowing he’d never want to rain on her parade and cast that look aside.

“Look at that, my little rockstar all grown up,” he says with a smile so gentle and fond of you you think you might fall in love with him all over again.

“Are you proud?” You ask and he chuckles as if the answer was that obvious and did not warrant a question.

“So proud,” he reaffirms your thoughts with hands cupping your cheeks and bringing his nose to playfully graze it with yours before he proudly lands a short yet sweet kiss on your lips.

“Jin, don’t do that in public,” you back away just a little, now noticing the people who’re just trying to walk the street.

Yet Seokjin laughs at you. “I thought you enjoyed public displays of affection.”

“I never said that,” you say as you take his hand and begin to walk off towards the apartment building the eight of you reside in, “that’s Taehyung and Hoseok. And Yoongi doesn’t care about anything so whether it’s embarrassing or not, he’ll do it if he’s in the mood — which can get a little frustrating.”

“Does it?”

“It does. Though now that I think about it, I think all of you except Namjoon and I care about modesty when it comes to displaying affections publicly.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Jungkook too?”

“He enjoys seeing my reactions!” You say with a huff. “But then when I get him flustered, he goes on a whole rant as if he doesn’t do it frequently to me. Couldn’t you talk to him for me? He’d listen to you.”

“You think he’d listen to me?”

“You’re right, never mind, he never listens to you.”

“I listen well,” just as the elevator doors pop open, someone approaches the two of you from behind, their head propping in between your two bodies, “there’s just a time and place for everything.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes at Jungkook’s response as the three of you walk into the elevator. “It’d be good if you can listen to your elders, Jungkook.”

“Come on now, don’t start giving me life lessons again. It’s just that sometimes tuning some people out is the best thing to do.”

“Excuse me?” You hide your laugh behind a hand at Seokjin’s offended expression but he catches you quickly. “And what’re you doing teaming up with him? You were against him just a few seconds ago,” he says, snaking his arm around your waist to pull you in as you let out a yelp at his tickles.

“You can’t win against our maknae bond, hyung,” Jungkook snickers as he takes your other side, wrapping his arm around you as well.

“Stop, you’re going to suffocate me.”

Just then, the ding to the elevator is heard and you take their moment of distraction to escape their clutches, quick to rush out the doors and run for your apartment door.

When the door opens after unlocking the code, you run right in towards the first person you see, shoes and all.

“Yoongi catch!”

He looks like he’s just gotten up from a nap and yet when he sees you running towards him at full speed, he doesn’t think twice before his arms are instinctively holding you up when you jump onto him successfully.

“What’re you doing back early?” He yawns when another voice chimes in.

“Yeah, you’re not supposed to be back until an hour later,” Namjoon says.

You narrow your eyes. “Not happy at my early arrival?”

“I was trying to surprise you with a cake,” Taehyung yells from the kitchen, to which you turn to see both him and Jimin busy with frostings and cake batter.

“Tae? Baking?” You get down from Yoongi’s stronghold to walk towards them as Hoseok comes around to take your coat.

Taehyung pouts. “Are you doubting my skills? Why don’t you doubt Jimin?”

“Because we all know I’m a great baker.”

“Y/N, shoes.” Seokjin warns from where he stands, pointed eyes your way, stopping you just before you step into the kitchen.

Hoseok helps you out of them so you thank him with a kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nods as he walks over to the shoe rack.

“What’s the cake for?” You step into kitchen territory once approved, peeking over Jimin’s side as he focuses on decorating the cake and seeing the words ‘congratulations’ on it. “Wha..but I didn’t even tell you what the results were.”

“Do we even have to hear it?” Jimin chuckles, stopping midway to give you a kiss on the head.

“You were that confident I’d do well?” Your lower lip juts out, feeling touched by their actions.

“Oh baby, we knew,” Taehyung says, kissing you on the cheek.

“Why is it that you guys spoil me so much? You’re going to overwhelm me.”

“Because you’re our girl, why else?”

Such a calm answer, so straightforward and simple as if that was obvious from the very beginning. They’ve always been like this; considerate and sweet, and when Taehyung pokes your nose and leaves frosting there and you chase him after to exact revenge, when Namjoon scolds the two of you in a calm voice and Jimin shouts at the both of you to not make a mess, Jungkook laughing in the corner, wanting to join in but Seokjin pulling him back, all the while Hoseok and Yoongi simply stands back observing it all, the happiness that bloomed from the very moment you met the seven of them and how they’ve managed to continue allowing you to live in these sweet moments, you know that you will never care for anything else as long as they remain by your side until the very end.

Nothing else in this world matters more than their love and support.

[littlebitsalt]

Hello can i request yandere catboy x reader, so the yandere is reader's cat (in cat form) but in school yandere is also reader's classmates (in his human form (so he can change his form to cat and something perfect human even human with ears & tail)) so automatically the knew each other as classmate (they're not close in school) but reader didnt know that their classmate is their cat too, the yandere its so obsessed with reader inside school and house, but he more clingy when he in his cat form because he can get patted and cuddled with reader, but one day when they're cudding together the cat turn into human which make reader shocked, the reader keep trying to get rid of him even start to ignore him in school where he suddenly being clingy ans touchy, the rest of the story i let you continue (≡^∇^≡)

Yandere catboy x reader

Note: longest fic I've written It got longer than I expected 😙

Summary: you find out your cat is actually your classmate.

drawing of yandere catboy 1

drawing of yandere catboy 2

Your friend stopped walking as an orange cat came into view.

"Oh- There's a cat over there!"

Before you could react, your friend dashed over to the cat.

"Aww... so cute."

"Come on, let's go home."

You said, standing beside your friend who is taking pictures of the cat.

"Wait- she's purring. I need to take a photo of this."

You sigh. Your friend was obsessed with cats and never missed any chances to watch them, take pictures of them and touch them. She also took photos of this orange cat just outside the school gate everyday.

"I don't have anything to feed you today.. but I'll buy some tomorrow, okay? Bye, Chesse."

After one last pat, your friend stood up.

"That cat has a name?"

You asked.

"Of course she does! Everyone in school calls her Cheese. Her soft fur is just like cheese."

Your friend proceeded to show you pictures on her social media. You had no choice but to look at her social media that is filled with pictures of cats.

You didn't hate cats, but you weren't a fan of them either. You've taken a few pictures of cats in the past, but admiring cats all day was not that interesting to you.

After saying goodbye to your friend, you went to your home.

"Mom, I'm home."

You shouted loud enough for your mom to hear.

Your mom was in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

"Hey mom- huh?"

You felt something cling to your leg. You immediately looked down to find a black and white cat.

"What is this?"

You said, confused. You tried to back away from the cat, but it was still clinging on to you. You turned to your mom to hear some kind of explanation.

"It's a cat from my office. I'm sure you've seen this cat a few times."

Your mom replied. Now that you think about it, you could remember this cat from a few days ago when you visited your mother's office.

"Is this cat the one staying at the back of your office building?"

"Yes it is! I made a simple bed for it to stay.. and I decided to just take it home-"

"What? Does dad know about this? What about my brother?"

"They seem pretty chill about it. Your brother liked the idea. You know the drawing he drew in his kindergarten? That kid likes cats."

"What if this cat already has an owner?"

"I checked it, and everyone around my office said this cat was alone for a few years. So it's fine, (y/n), don't worry."

"You could have asked if I'm fine though."

You looked back at the tuxedo cat. You didn't want to blame the cat, but getting a cat without your opinion was not the best feeling.

You patted the cat's head while it curled around your leg. This cat was acting like it's smart enough to comprehend your feelings. You felt the cat clinging to you more as you touched it.

"I'm sorry (y/n). I should've told you sooner, but I was busy. Plus, the person using the second floor starting next week is allergic to cat fur, so I had no choice to take the cat to home."

Your mom said. You nodded as a reply and looked at the cat again.

"Look, the cat likes you the most. That cat never warmed up to me like that. Why don't you name the cat, (y/n)?"

Your mother was true. You visited your mother's office a few times, and this cat only liked it when you touch it.

"I'm bad with names, and why don't you name it? It's you that brought it here anyway."

"Oh come on, (y/n). Don't be so harsh on the cat."

You ignored your mom and tried to go inside your room, but the black and white cat followed you inside your room without any presence.

"You really do like me.."

You murmured to yourself.

The cat still curled up to you between your legs. You had to pick up the cat and move it to your bed to unpack your school bag and change into comfortable clothes.

You crawled into your blankets and got your phone ready to watch videos before dinner. The black and white cat also crawled beside you, using your right arm as a pillow.

"Oh right.. I need to think of a name for you.."

You said as you scratched the cat.

"What about.. just Tux? That's pretty easy to pronounce."

You said as the cat digged into your chest.

"Do cats like their owners this much..?"

You mumbled.

"So Tux it is? Or do you want another name?"

Your cat ignored your mumbling and rubbed its face onto you.

"... okay then. Your name is Tux from now on."

Your cat, now named Tux, reacted to its new name, and it seemed quite pleased.

You spent time scrolling down social media with your cat beside you before your mother called for dinner. As you got up and walked to the kitchen, Tux followed you. At the kitchen, you found your little brother and your dad talking about their experience today in the playground.

"Where have you been?"

You asked your brother.

"In the playground with my friends... wait- that's the cat mom's talking about-!"

Your brother's attention darted to Tux immediately as he touched the cat. Tux didn't avoid the touch either.

"That cat's name is Tux. I named it."

You said, sitting on your chair and eating food your mom prepared.

"That's a.. intuitive name."

Your dad said, looking at Tux.

"... Anyways, why did you agree to raise a pet?"

You asked. Looking at your brother's wide smile, your dad answered,

"Didn't your mother tell you? Uh.. your brother likes cats, and why not?"

"... yeah whatever."

You ate dinner listening to your little brother talking about Tux. You felt good that your brother got a pet that he wanted. However, at the same time, you felt uncomfortable... having a pet all of a sudden. It felt like having a new family member without your permission.

You know that having a pet will feel like having a family member as time passes. Your friends told you about how their pets meant the world to them... But there was this uncomfortable feeling about Tux.

Maybe you were just mad about your family and wanted to leash your anger to Tux. You didn't know.

--

When you woke up the next day, you found Tux right beside you.

"How did you get in here..."

You went to sleep alone last night. You remembered that you closed the door before Tux gets in.

You shrugged it off since you had little time before you go to school. You walked around, brushing your hair and wearing your uniform.

"Where is it? Ugh.."

You mumbled as you searched for your earphones. You put them on last night, and the right one was missing.

"Hey- don't distract me."

You lifted up Tux from the bed sheets and searched to see if the bed sheets were covering your right earphone. You rummaged through your bed sheets but you couldn't find it. While you were busy lifting up bed sheets, Tux crawled under your bed.

"What are you doing?"

You also looked under the bed.

"Oh- You found it!"

Tux was playing with the right earphone you were desperately searching for. You grabbed your right earphone and put in the case as your cat tossed it to you.

You sighed in relief and looked at Tux.

"Thanks for your help... I would've died for boredom in school without your help."

You smiled at Tux and left your room, ready to go to school.

In your classroom, you talked about your new cat to your friend. As expected, your friend was excited about it, asking dozens of questions.

"How can you not have a picture of it?"

Your friend said.

"I didn't think of it. I'll send you a picture when I go back home."

Your friend rambled about how her mother would not allow her to have a pet. You listened to your friend quietly.

"Hey."

Someone poked your shoulder. You looked back to see who it was, and one of your classmates was standing right behind you.

"Huh?"

"You're sitting on my seat."

Your classmate said.

"Oh- sorry-!"

You stood up right after.

--

"Don't you think you and him have a lot of connections lately?"

Your friend said, eating a chocolate bar she bought in free time.

"Who are you talking about?"

"You sat in his seat in lunch time. How could you not remember?"

"Oh- are you talking about Blake?"

"Of course I am! Don't you think he likes you?"

You knew your friend loves setting people up and likes searching for possible couples, but this time, she's talking nonsense.

"I didn't even talk to him that much."

Your friend was eager to tell you what she has found.

"That's not the point- The important part is that he's constantly gazing at you during class. Also, how can you not notice that it's you he talks to!"

"He talks to plenty of people."

"Oh no, you're clueless. If you observe further, you'll definitely realize he only talks to certain people, or friends, and they all knew Blake even before highschool."

"How do you know that?"

"My eyes and ears are open."

"..."

Blake and you? That's such a confusing match.

"Your observations can't be the reason."

"See for yourself then. I'm sure. Blake has interest in you."

"..."

You didn't believe a word your friend said before Blake asked if he can join you on the way home.

It was awkward, walking with a classmate who you've barely talked to.  Blake was quiet, and you didn't know how to start a conversation.

"I thought you go home with your friends."

You said.

"Oh- I moved recently. It seemed like you go home this way too, so... I thought it could be great having another friend to go home with."

Blake said. You could see he was a bit nervous... but why?

Not much conversation went by, and you waved goodbye to Blake in front of your house. You went into your house, throwing your book bag onto the bed and taking off your jacket.

You looked around to see if Tux was around, but you couldn't find it anywhere. You went into every room in your house but Tux wasn't in any of them. You went back to your room, wondering where that sneaky cat hid himself. You were unpacking your bag when you noticed something jumping over the fence. You looked at it to realize that it was your cat that was jumping over the fence and into your home.

You quickly opened the window facing the garden Tux was walking across and let it in your room.

This was strange. The doors were all locked, and you went out of the front door in the morning, so there's no way for Tux to get out. Your mother took your little brother to kindergarten and your father went to work after you left for school.. but they wouldn't have left Tux leave the house.

"Do you get out of the house when no one is watching?"

You said, in a surprised tone.

Was this cat extra smart, or were you mistaken about all the doors being closed?

Tux didn't seem to care that it got out of the house when everyone was outside.

You were skeptical but decided to ignore it and kept on unpacking your bag and organizing your clothes.

After a few hours, your mom came home with your brother.

"We're going to have dinner after an hour when your dad comes back from work-"

Your mom said loudly enough for you to hear.

In your room, you were studying while Tux was watching. You studied until your mother called you to eat dinner.

Your little brother was talking about his day in kindergarten like always, and your mother was setting food plates on the table.

You ate quietly as your brother went on about how his friend and him played some kind of game.

"Mom, today a classmate wanted go home together with me. The funny thing is.."

You said to your mom when your brother cooled down.

"Are you listening?"

You asked your mom.

"Oh- I am listening. Go on."

"The funny thing is that.. I've never talked to him properly yet."

You went on.

"And I beat Anthony- so I got a prize-!"

Your words were blocked with your brother's babbling.

You sighed. Everytime your brother blocked your words, it felt so frustrating.

"Can't you wait when I'm talking?"

You would've heard what your brother needed to say, but this time, you felt like speaking up.

"What?"

Your brother looked at you.

"I mean.. I want to talk too."

"But-"

"Your brother is thrilled he got a present today in kindergarten. Let him talk, he's feeling good today."

Your dad said.

"I think he talked enough though."

"You talked a lot more when you were young too."

Your mother said, smiling.

You were annoyed. Why was she smiling?

Your family wouldn't listen to you, and it was so frustrating to you.

"I ate a lot, I'm going back to my room."

You said.

"You haven't eaten half of it, why?"

Your mother asked.

"My stomach hurts today."

You stood up and walked to your room. Tux follwed you.

--

You couldn't understand it. You wanted to talk about your new friend too. You wanted to talk about how Blake suggested to go home with you.

You turned to your cat that was cuddling you, covered in your bed sheet. You scratched its fur as it purred.

You noticed that Tux followed you everywhere in the house. You also noticed that Tux only cuddled with you. That actually felt heart warming.

Tux jumped off the bed and crawled to a shelf you collected all your goods like  small stuffed animals, and some figures you collected from before. It was usually goods from a few years ago.

"Is there something interesting?"

You looked at the shelf, confused.

"I don't see anything interesting... wait-"

The shelf was missing something.

Now you searched through all your goods to find there was a figure missing. And you also found some of your markers missing. You actually needed those markers for art class tomorrow.

The first thing that came up to your mind was your brother.

You thanked Tux and went out of your room, to the table where your family was eating dessert.

"Where's my figure and markers?"

You asked your mother.

"What do you mean by markers and a figure? The ones on your shelf?"

Your mother replied.

"Yes- where are they?"

"I gave it to your brother."

With your mother's answer, you went straight into your brother's room to find your figure on the corner of his shelf. You grabbed it and put it back on your shelf. Your mom watched with a confused expression.

But you couldn't find your marker still.

"Where's my marker?"

You asked your mother again. Your brother was quiet, staring at you now that he realized how irritated your voice was.

"Why?"

"I said multiple times that I needed my markers for my art project-"

You were shouting now.

"I gave it your brother because he had a drawing competition today, and your brother left it in kindergarten because it got damaged. You can draw with something else for your art project, right?"

Your mother said, annoyed too.

You tried to calm down, but this was too much. How can your whole family ignore your words?

"That's not the point here- why would you take my stuff without my permission?"

Your mother said nothing, but she was definitely baffled from your statement.

When your mother said nothing and your brother kept whining, you went into your room again, shutting the door roughly.

--

The next day, you were silent the whole time getting ready for school. You didn't have your marker, and you couldn't finish the art project how you wanted to because of that.

You walked to school with heavy footsteps.

Art class was after lunch, so you still had time to think about how to do your art project. But you didn't have good ideas on your mind. Also you have already done the sketch for the drawing, which makes it harder to think of other good ideas.

Time flew by fast and it was time for art. Unfortunately your friend didn't have markers, so she couldn't help you out.

The uneasy feeling went on. You had to decide whether to switch the concept of the drawing or find usable markers one way or another.

"You'll do good with or without markers..."

Your friend comforted you.

"Thanks..."

You decided to use watercolor the school had and walked over to the sink with a small yellow bucket.

"Hey."

You felt a poke on your shoulder.

It was Blake.

"Oh- hi."

".. I have markers.. if you want to use it."

"... wait- really?"

You couldn't stop yourself from smiling.

"Yeah.. you can take them and use it at your table. I use watercolor anyway."

"Thanks- you're a lifesaver."

Blake was a lifesaver, and that went on for a few weeks. He gave you stuff you really needed, which made your friend more invested in your relationship with Blake.

Your relationship with your family recovered a bit over a few weeks, but you were still in some kind of a cold war, and you were still angry at them. You didn't talk very much either, so it really didn't matter.

You went home with Blake a few times a week. Blake wasn't the funniest person to talk to, but Blake was sure a great listener. Just like Tux.

Blake listened to you, occasionally talking about how he thought. He was not like your family who ignored how your life was in school, and everytime Blake helped you out, you thought of your friend's words. Maybe your friend was an expert at reading people's feelings.

If Blake helped you out in school, Tux was your company in your home. When you went home alone, Tux was waiting for you behind the front door.

You felt uncomfortable around Tux at first, but now you warmed up to Tux. You spent all your days with Tux telling your worries and secrets that you wouldn't tell anyone.

Tux stayed right beside you curling its body into your arms.

Spending your time with Tux felt soothing, and you thought this would go on for sure.

However, despite your wish, it didn't last long.

It was Friday, and you walked home alone. You went home fast to see your cat waiting for you.

"I'm home-"

You shouted.

You didn't see your cat behind the front door, so you walked into your room to find your cat lying down on the bed.

It was unusual for you cat to be like this. Tux always tried to rub itself on you if it had the chance.

You sat beside Tux, worried if the cat is sick.

"Are you ok?"

You asked. You knew Tux won't understand what you're saying, but you wanted your cat to know you're worried by your tone.

You lay down on your bed with your school uniform on. There was no one in the house, so there was no one to scold you for not changing clothes.

You turned to your cat. Tux seemed to be struggling with something, and you didn't know why. You thought about calling your mom, but you knew she wouldn't answer when she's busy with some project of hers.

What if Tux needs to go to the hospital?

Several thoughts went by your head.

Tux was still in a bad state and you didn't know what to do.

You got your phone out and searched through the internet to find some clue after you messaged your father(hoping for him to message you back).

As you searched with your phone, you felt Tux slipping away.

Tux was slowly crawling away from you. It seemed he wanted to head out of your room.

"Hey, where are you going?"

You put one arm around your cat, confused.

"Do you need something? Where are you going all of a sudden?"

But your cat was desperate to get out.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

That was the moment you saw something so unbelievable.

With a blink of an eye, Tux was gone, replaced with a boy your age.

".... Blake?"

You couldn't believe what you just saw.

Tux was no where to be seen, and Blake, who said he was going home with his friends, was exactly in Tux's place, facing you.

Surprised and confused, you quicky removed your arm on Blake's body. Then you jumped out of bed before Blake could react.

"W.. wait-"

Blake grabbed your arm and yanked you back into the bed. You lost balance and fell back first to the bed while Blake grabbed your arms still.

"What the- what are you doing??"

You said as Blake's grip got stronger.

Blake was on top of you, facing you with his face red.

"I'll explain-"

You didn't want to believe it, but from the looks of it, Tux was actually Blake.

Blake's face came closer to yours, and you could hear Blake's heart beating fast.

You pushed off Blake and ran out of your room before Blake came any more closer. Blake followed you without hesitation, desperate to explain himself.

You maintained certain space between you as Blake tried to take a step closer to you.

"I can explain-"

Blake protested.

"Get out of my house.. I'll listen to your explanation later.."

"No- no- I didn't do anything wrong.. I just.. wanted to get closer and help you out."

"I messaged my dad and he'll come home soon. I'll tell him about you if you don't get out."

You said in a harsh tone. You wouldn't tell your dad that Tux is human, but you had to threaten Blake..

Blake's face clearly showed that he was not satisfied, but he left.

When your dad came home, you told him Tux was somehow escaped. Your little brother was upset. But you didn't care to notice him because Tux being Blake was the most important topic in your head for hours.

You've done some pretty embarrassing stuff in front of Blake in his cat form. You told him all your cringey moments, you showed him your true personality.. and you even changed clothes in front of his cat form. You basically showed every aspect of you.

You went to bed imagining how it will be meeting Blake in school again. You imagine yourself being awkward in front of Blake.

You hoped not, but the thought that Blake came to your house just to be beside you made you feel a bit frightened.

The whole situation was weird. Blake was weird. His actions only tell you that he's creepy.

--

Instead of confronting Blake, you avoided Blake in every was possible. You ran straight to home after school, hoping for Blake to lose sight of you.

"I'm home-"

You said. You find your mom sitting on the couch.

"(y/n)-! Tux came back!"

"..."

"Why, aren't you glad Tux came back without a scratch?"

"Can we just let him be a stray cat again?

You blurted out.

"How can you say that, (y/n)? We brought Tux here, so we have to take care of it."

"It was your choice- you brought him here- then don't let him in my room, okay?

"Why are you acting sensitive lately? Don't you think this is too much?"

You ignored your mother and walked back to your room. Blake tried to follow you, but you shut the door at his face.

Your mother noticed this right away. Irritated herself, she opened the door to your room and let the cat inside.

"Don't vent out your frustration on Tux, (y/n)."

With that, your mom closed the door and headed to the livingroom again.

You glared at the person pretending to be a stray cat. With the frustration that built up past few weeks, you couldn't stand someone deceiving you.

"Get out."

You said.

Blake was still in his cat form, standing still.

"Are you listening..?"

You said. Blake just stood there, staring at you.

"... I'll just go out then."

At that moment, Blake went back to his human form, grabbing your wrists.

"Don't go out."

Blake said.

"....why don't we cuddle like we always did?"

"Are you serious? Why would I-"

You tried to get his hand off your wrist, but he's grip only got stronger.

"You can't even force me out of your room."

"Can you at least let go of my wrist?"

"Oh-.."

Blake let go of your wrist, but he didn't move away from you.

Both you and Blake got quiet after. Your mother shouting from the livingroom broke the silence.

"Stay here."

You said, looking at Blake. Then you went to the livingroom.

"Why did you call me?"

You asked.

"Actually, I didn't buy eggs since I was busy with work. Can you buy them now? You didn't even change to comfortable clothes yet."

"I'm keeping the change."

"Okay. Just come back before I prepare dinner. Oh and we need something else too. I'll send you a list."

You got money from your mother and walked back to your room. Blake was waiting for you, sitting on your bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To buy groceries."

You looked away from Blake and picked up a bag to carry groceries.

--

You felt someone following you while you were walking to the supermarket.

You knew it was Blake.

"I know you're following me."

You said.

As expected, Blake came out of his cover. He was in his human form.

"I just wanted to see if.."

You ignored him and kept walking. Blake followed suit.

"I like you a lot.. I'm sure you know by now..."

You stayed silent. The whole situation was strange and you didn't quite process it.

"I actually liked you way before you knew me. I can move around more freely as a cat, you know?"

"..."

Blake held your hand and walked right beside you.

"It was hard for me to keep my distance from you in school... that's why I tried to be a stray cat. To get closer..."

"That's... uh..."

Blake suddenly wrapped his arms around you out of nowhere.

"What are you doing??"

You said, trying to push him away. Unfortunately Blake didn't budge. Instead he only got closer, which made your head spinning.

"What if someone sees us?? Stop-"

"Does that mean I can hug you in your room?"

"That's not what I meant.."

Blake laughed as you panicked and didn't know what to do.

"You should stop ignoring me in school. You liked Tux, why not treat me like it too?"

Blake said, holding your hand again.

"Uhm..."

Blake didn't do anything that would attract glances while buying groceries. He kept holding your hand, but he didn't do anything other than that.

You quickly bought the things your mother asked and went home with Blake. Blake transformed into Tux by the time you arrived home and everything went smoothly after that, like a normal day. Blake, in his cat form, watched you from afar as you ate dinner.

You went back inside your room and Blake quickly made his way inside before you could lock the door.

Blake changed back to his human self as soon as he closed the door to your room. Then he lead you to your bed, wrapping his arms from the back.

"I waited for this."

He said while digging into your neck.

"Hey- don't rub your face onto my neck-"

There was no use resisting because Blake had no intention of letting you go.

"I have to study. Let me go."

You said firmly.

"I know you don't study right away after dinner. Let's watch something together. Or we can just lay on bed together and sleep."

"What if my family finds out??"

"Then you should be quiet."

Blake smiled.

You were annoyed, but you kept quiet.

Blake pestered you so you couldn't do much of anything. It was soon late at night and all your family members went to sleep.

"I'm going to sleep."

You said, organizing your desk before bed.

"Really? Then we can sleep side by side. Cuddling each other."

"I'll get you bed sheets. You can sleep on the floor."

"What do you mean-"

"Or you can turn into a cat again."

"I- I'll turn into a cat."

Blake, in his cat form crawled beside you when you lay in bed, covered with blankets.

--

You heard the alarm and slowly opened your eyes to see Blake's face right in front of you. You screamed right that moment.

Your mother heard your scream and opened the door to check if anything's wrong.

"What's wrong here?"

Your mom asked.

You quickly hid Blake under your blankets, covering his face with your arms.

"Nothing- just a bad.. dream."

"Well, ok. Come eat breakfast in 10 minutes."

"Alright."

Your mom walked out of your room, still suspicious of your actions.

"What were you doing? We could've been caught-!"

You jumped up pushing Blake away.

"Are you going to change into your uniform?"

Blake asked, still lying down on the bed.

"What?"

"I mean.. uh..."

"..."

You grabbed your school uniform and changed your clothes in the bathroom.

--

"I can't believe you watched me all the time."

You said, leaving the house. Blake already prepared for school and waited for you at the front door.

"..."

"Aren't you hungry? You haven't ate since yesterday lunch."

"I go back to my house in night and stay there until it's time for you to wake up. I do regular things I missed at daytime."

"That explains why you're sleeping all day at school."

"Then will you let me sleep in your room with you? I want to beside you all day."

"All day? That's exhausting."

"It's not exhausting for me. I want to be beside you whether it's in school or home."

"I'll think about it.."

Blake held your hand.

"I know you'll accept it at some point."

Blake said with confidence.

Blake's words were oddly convincing to you.

He was beside you when you fought with your family and got upset. He listened to your words and helped you.

It's true that you liked Tux in your home, and Blake at school as well.

You like Blake's warm touch, but you'll have to think about Blake staying with you all day.

Part 2 here

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for asking my SO to do something that they have trauma around?

I don't know when this will be posted but as of writing we are about 2 weeks post valentines day. Ages and genders irrelevant, we're in our 20s and queer.

So I have not been with Jordan long, but we knew each out for a few months as friends before we got together, and have been close pretty much all of the time we've known each other. This is to say, I know them pretty well despite us not actually having been dating that long.

Because we were already friends I knew going into the relationship, without Jordan specifically saying anything, that they had plans on Valentines day. They got tickets to a concert I wasn't interested in a decent amount of time before we got together.

Obviously, not an issue in the slightest, and neither of us brought up anything regarding Valentines day. It was a week day, so I was working all day, and then the time of the concert meant there was no possibility of meeting up after, just not meant to be this year. I thought we were in the same boat just silently agreeing that the timing wasn't right but that it wasn't a big enough deal to even be worth bringing up, especially in such a new relationship.

Some backstory on me: I'm a hopeless romantic and have a kind of cute aesthetic? I like dressing in bright colours, and some of my favourite outfits have prints of hearts, flowers, and cherries. Needless to say I really enjoy the aesthetic of Valentines day, and I've always kind of fantasised about being able to spend it with someone I have romantic feelings for. I've only had two romantic relationships before this and the first one only lasted 6 months and didn't make it to Valentines day, and in the second we both contracted the same bug and were horribly sick throughout February.

Obviously I don't think you should only do things for your SO on Valentines day, but I think it would be fun to have the chance to really get into it! In the past I've organised Valentines day events with my other single friends where we dress in pink and have heart shaped foods etc and those have been great, but haven't quite satisfied my desire to have a Romantic Valentines.

So, despite the fact that my SO was busy, I wanted to do a little something. I do digital art, so when I got home from work I drew a pun Valentines card featuring Jordan's favourite character. It took a few hours and I was pretty proud of how it came out. I knew they were at the concert still, but I texted it to them, so they could see it after.

They responded that night and their first message was just "oh." I've known Jordan long enough that i read the tone to be "oh, now I to have a conversation I didn't want to have." They went on to explain that they associate Valentines day with some past trauma. I won't give any details here, but the tone of the conversation was that they don't celebrate Valentines day because of their trauma, and this seemed like a very final stance.

Now. I don't think I'm TA for drawing the art and sending it, this had never been brought up before, so I didn't know I was crossing a boundary.

I do think Jordan is slightly TA for not saying anything about my art that I worked hard on, but only slightly bc I assume the trauma response just kind of took over.

But my question is, WIBTA if I asked my SO to celebrate Valentines day with me in future even though it's something they have trauma around?

I'm not planning to force them or anything and it doesn't even have to be in the next few years, but thinking long term it feels really gloomy to me to have to miss out on Valentines forever when my SO could be making new memories with me so that mentions of the holiday are less painful.

I don't expect them to just "get over" it magically or anything but I want to ask if it's something they'd possibly want to work up to? I swear I'm not trying to be dismissive their response is fully valid and I don't want to imply my silly fantasies are more important than their traumatic reality I just want to know if this would be an asshole move or not.

What are these acronyms?

[headkiss]

Happy Tuesday! :) Could I possibly request something where Eddie is trying to gather the courage to confess his feelings to the reader? Maybe Wayne or the Hellfire boys hype him up and help him practice what he’s going to say?

hi! happy tuesday to you too and yes you can!! i hope u like it and that it’s kind of what you were thinking! enjoy :D | 1k words and fem!reader

Eddie had a crush.

A big, fat crush that all of his friends, even his uncle, knew about. He thought about it all of the time. He wanted to go on dates and take care of someone and be fucking soft. How strange was that?

He had a crush on you.

You were the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the kindest smile and eyes that he wanted on his. You were never mean to him, never called him a freak like everyone else did. In fact, he’s heard you defend him multiple times.

“You don’t even know him.”

“He’s a good person.”

“If you actually knew him, you would never say that.”

What’s even worse is that you’re even kind when you try to be stern, your voice soft despite the conviction in your tone. He thinks you’re really, really cute.

He considers you a friend, but he knows he wants more. He wants to kiss you and hold you and walk around with his arm around you so the assholes at school stop looking at you.

“Dude, you’re staring again,” Gareth snaps Eddie out of it.

“Shit, sorry. What were you saying?”

He tries to pay attention this time, he really does, but he hears you laugh and he has to turn his head to see it. It’s sweet, the soft cloud of cotton candy if it was a sound. God, he has it so bad.

“You should just tell her,” Gareth doesn’t bother with his story anymore.

“She won’t feel the same. No way.”

“Do you hear the way she talks about you? And when you two are around each other. Come on! It’s so obvious.”

“Maybe.”

The two boys make their way to Hellfire, Eddie listening to Gareth go on and on about how he should just be honest and talk to you, but he can’t. He’s too scared. You’ll turn him down and then he won’t get to talk to you at all. He prefers the moments he has with you already than that.

The night's campaign goes as usual, some yelling, some laughing, and Eddie having way too much fun getting to DM for it all. It’s his favorite thing to do, an escape, really. And things only got better when Dustin, Lucas, and Mike joined. He saw himself in them, especially Dustin, and they were great additions.

It goes as usual until the door opens and everyone’s heads turn to see you standing there.

“Oh my god. Sorry,” you turn around and shut the door, embarrassed as you lean against the wall.

Eddie’s eyes are wide, and he doesn’t say anything, simply stares at the door where you just stood. He’s itching to get up, to go after you and talk to you and tell you it’s okay, you’re welcome anytime.

“For god's sake just go ask her out,” Dustin says what everybody’s thinking, though he says it in that tone of his that makes him sound annoyed, which he probably is, at this point.

Eddie’s been talking about you forever and they’re all sick of it, as great as you seem. The whole of Hellfire agrees with Dustin, chanting ‘do it, do it’ until Eddie shushes them and finally stands and pushes his way out the door.

He startles you, and you startle him. He wasn’t expecting you to be standing right next to the door with your head in your hands muttering something to yourself that sounded a lot like ‘stupid, he doesn’t like you’ and he can’t stop himself from hoping you want him to like you. You weren’t expecting anyone to come out and look for you, and you can’t help but stare at Eddie while he does the same to you.

You’ve liked him since you met him. He’s energetic and charming in his own, unique way. The way he spoke drew you to him, the way his eyes were always shining and sweet like a puppy. His long hair and his rings and tattoos. He was, to you, perfect.

“Oh. Hi,” Eddie says it quietly, like he’s nervous.

“Hi. I’m so sorry for walking in, I forgot Hellfire was today,” you’re looking down, feet kicking back and forth against the ground.

“No, no. It’s okay.”

“Okay.”

You wait for him to say something else, because he looks like he’s going to, but he doesn’t. So you turn to walk away with a small ‘bye, then.’

“Wait!” He stops you, a hand around your wrist. You like the way it feels when he touches you, even the slightest bit.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?” You look at him, eyes roaming around his face and the way he licks his lips and takes a deep breath before talking again.

“Do you want to maybe go out sometime.. with me?”

“Seriously?”

He’s even more nervous now, because he doesn’t know if you’re surprised that he asked you out in a good way or if it’s negative.

“Um, yeah. I really like you. A lot, and I want to take you on a date if you’ll let me. I’m sorry if I just sprung it on you but I had to get it out.”

You surprise him this time by taking his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you.

“Hey. I like you too. I’d love to go out.”

“You would?”

“I would,” you nod.

He can’t stop himself, he kisses you then. Your hands stay on his face and his hold your waist. He feels like he might be dreaming because you’re kissing him back and it’s even better than anything he ever dreamt of. It’s broken up by your smiles and giddy laughs, but it’s amazing, nonetheless.

That night, after he kissed you some more and said goodbye and left you his number, after he finished Hellfire and tried to stop himself from blushing (and failing) when they all cheer after finding out a date has been secured and feelings have been returned, he goes home the happiest he’s been.

Wayne notices.

“What’s got you all smiley, boy?”

“Got a date.”

“With that girl you never shut up about?”

Eddie nods, his face heating up because he never realized he talked about you that much. He thinks it might only get worse after tonight. He knows how you kiss and he won’t ever forget it. The smile is still on his face.

“Yeah, she likes me, too.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I'm taking a break from my regularly scheduled WIP to bring you this Scoops Ahoy AU one-shot. It's a long one.

Eddie was about to enter Scoops Ahoy when he saw Steve in front of the counter, his back to him. He was in full uniform, hat on top and all. He was practicing drawing his scoop like he was a cowboy. Eddie's eyes wondered over his backside, giggling at Steve being a dork, and his heart was beating rapidly. Yeah, he liked that a lot, especially the legs attached to the ass. Steve twirled around and smiled at Eddie. He drew his scoop and pretended to shoot him. Eddie clutched his chest and dropped to the floor. He heard Steve’s laughter ring out, and it was the best thing in the world. Shit. He liked Steve Harrington. Eddie jumped up and took off, barely listening to Steve screaming behind him.

"It was just an ice cream scoop!"

Eddie ran all the way out into the parking lot and jumped into his van. He turned it on and thought about where he wanted to go, and then he cursed. Shit, he was supposed to meet Jeff here for a movie. He turned off his van and jumped when someone knocked on his window. He yelped when he saw that it was Steve Harrington. Eddie looked at him wearily before rolling down his window.

"Making special deliveries now, Cap?" Eddie asked, hoping he was actually as calm as he thought he was being.

"Only for people who drop their wallets," Steve grinned, holding up his wallet.

Eddie squeaked and went to grab it, but Steve pulled it back with a grin.

"Never took you for a bully, Harrington," Eddie smirked.

"Seriously?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, a little bitchy? Yes. Bully? No. Not even you would do that. Too busy hiding secrets in that hair of yours," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh. And what secrets are hiding in your hair, Munson?" Steve asked, leaning on the frame.

Eddie trailed his fingers across Steve’s arm. Shit, was he really flirting with him?

"How about you climb into the back of my van and find out?" Eddie asked.

He surprised both of them with that question. He didn't think that he would be so forward. Steve grinned.

"Okay, but I only have fifteen minutes," Steve said he set his watch.

Steve started walking around to the other side, and Eddie quickly scrambled into the back. He flopped onto his back and onto the blanket he kept in the van. Steve opened the door, crawled into the van, and closed the door behind him, lying down beside Eddie.

"So, I have to ask," Steve said, leaning on his elbow. "Why did you run away when I shot you with my ice cream scoop?"

"Uh, there was a bee. A really big bee," Eddie said.

"A big bee, huh?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. I, uh, I really didn't think I ever liked bees before, but I saw this bee, and it was actually kind of cute. A cute dorky bee," Eddie said. "It scared me how much I liked this bee."

"So, was this bee blue, white, and red?" Steve grinned.

"Hmm, you cracked my code," Eddie said. "Damn."

"So is it the fact that I'm a jock or the fact that I'm a guy?" He asked.

"I've always liked women, and I never even questioned it even when other people assumed it about me," Eddie said. "And they always did."

"Funny, people always assumed I was straight even though I wanted them to think otherwise," Steve said.

"I'm obvious. You're not," Eddie grinned.

Steve laughed and placed his hand on his chest, dragging his nails gently across his chest.

"So, you really didn't think I was an asshole in high school?" Steve asked.

"No, mostly because I know how much you tried to stop the basketball players from beating the shit out of us," Eddie said. "Even Tommy Hagan was harmless. He was all talk and too much of a chicken shit to actually do anything about it. Plus, Gareth told me all about how you once stopped Tommy Hayes from beating the shit out of him."

"I fucking hate that guy, him and Jason Carver both. I tried to go to Principal Higgins about it, but he seemed like he was really out to get you. I don't what the fuck that guy's problem with you is but I kind of wanted to kick his ass," Steve scoffed.

"There's a picture," Eddie grinned. "So, did you always know you liked guys? I mean, I should have known at some point, right?"

"I don't think that you can put an exact time frame on something like this, especially since it's different for everyone. I was reading a parenting book, and it suggested that you shouldn't compare your child with other children because they grow and develop at like different rates," Steve said. "I figure that probably works the same with sexuality too."

"Why were you reading a parenting book?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, these kids that I babysit have been having nightmares, and I've been trying to figure out the best way to help them," Steve said.

Eddie pinned him down and climbed on top of him. Steve looked at him in surprise.

"You're the fucking cutest," Eddie said.

He leaned down and kissed him. Eddie mewed softly against his mouth when Steve kissed him back and grabbed the back of his head. His other hand was pressed against Eddie's lower back. Eddie kissed him roughly, rocking his hips against his. He liked the feeling of Steve’s lips against his and the way his hands felt in his hair. He definitely liked the way his hand felt against his backside. His entire body was buzzing. Eddie reached behind him to grab Steve’s hand and moved it so it was cupping his butt. Steve chuckled against his mouth. Suddenly, the van door flew open, causing them to break the kiss. Jeff stood there, staring at the scene with wide eyes.

"Hey, man," Eddie said casually as he continued to straddle Steve Harrington.

He couldn't explain this one away, considering Steve’s hand was on his ass.

"What?!" Jeff exclaimed.

"This is exactly what it looks like," Eddie said.

"I didn't know that you were into guys," Jeff said, looking at them both.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Steve asked with wide eyes, and Jeff laughed.

"No, man, I'm gay," Jeff said, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

"You didn't know I was into guys?" Eddie asked with a scoff. "I didn't know I was into guys."

"So, new discovery then?" Jeff asked, and Eddie nodded. "Want me to close the door?"

Jeff wiggled his eyebrows at Eddie. He was about to reply when Steve’s watch went off. Eddie frowned.

"Damn it!" Steve cursed. "I have to get back to work."

"We were making out longer than we thought," Eddie said with grin. "Can we do this again?"

"Yeah, you got a pen?" Steve asked.

Eddie dove towards the front of his van, grabbing a pen out of a cup holder. Steve whistled at his ass and Eddie cackled as he turned around, handing Steve the pen. Steve grabbed his arm and began writing numbers into Eddie's skin. Once he was finished, he bent down and blew on the ink to let it dry, looking directly at Eddie while he did it. Eddie shuddered as his breath hit his skin.

"Call me," Steve winked and hopped out of the van. "See you . . .?"

"Jeff," he replied.

"Jeff," Steve said, nodding at him and walking off.

"Wait, my wallet!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Check your back pocket!" Steve yelled.

Eddie frowned and checked his back pocket. Sure enough, his wallet was there.

"You sexy magician," Eddie muttered.

"Dude, that thing with the number was insanely hot," Jeff said. "Are you going to be able to concentrate on the movie?"

"I'm going to do something to screw this up. I know it!" Eddie exclaimed and buried his head into the blanket.

A couple of weeks later, and so far, Eddie hadn't screwed anything up. It was going well for him and Steve. He had called Steve that very same night, and they had talked for an hour before agreeing to meet at Steve's house for their first date. The asshole had cooked him dinner and everything. Eddie had insisted on cleaning the dishes with Steve, which had turned into them splashing soapy water at each other. After that, they sprawled onto the couch to watch TV, which had turned into a heavy makeout session that had Eddie losing his shirt and Steve nibbling on his tattoos. According to Steve, they're hot. Now, here he was bouncing into Scoops Ahoy to visit Steve. Steve’s co-worker, Robin, rolled her eyes at him.

"Hey, Stevie, is it your breaktime yet?" Eddie grinned.

"Yes, and for the love of God, do your little drug deal in the storage closet," Robin said. "If you must."

Steve grinned as he pulled Eddie into the break room and then into the storage closet, turning the lock.

"She thinks I'm selling you drugs," Eddie laughed as Steve pushed him up against the wall.

"Yeah, I got you something," Steve smiled and started digging around in his pockets.

"Yeah, you do," Eddie wiggled his eyebrows.

"No, not that," Steve snorted. "Although, maybe later if you're a good boy. Here."

He pulled a bumblebee pin out of his pocket. Eddie grinned and took it, an overwhelming wave or affection for the guy in front of him. He quickly added it to the pins on his vest.

"Thanks, Stevie," Eddie said and kissed him softly before cooing at him. "Sweet boy."

Steve blushed as he fiddled with the pin on his vest.

"I was hoping to ask you a question, and I'd get if you don't want to or if you want to keep thing the way they are but - ," Steve said.

"Will you be my boyfriend?" Eddie blurted out.

"Yeah!" He exclaimed, his eyes bright. "That's what I was going to ask you."

"You should know that I've never wanted to be someone's boyfriend before, not until you came along," Eddie said. "I don't know even know how to be a boyfriend."

"We'll figure it out together," Steve grinned.

Eddie kissed him, pulling his body close to his as he wrapped his arms around his neck. Steve smiled against his lips, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Suddenly, the door opened, and Robin burst in.

"I need help - Shit!" Robin exclaimed.

"I, uh, lost something," Eddie said.

"What? Did you lose your keys in his mouth?" Robin asked.

"I might have," Eddie scowled.

"And you searched for them with your tongue?" She asked.

"It's really good search method," he said.

"Try again," she said.

"He really wanted a discount," Eddie said.

"Hm, that's a little more believable," Robin said.

"Steve," Eddie whined.

"Relax, Munson, I'm a lesbian," Robin said.

"Really?" Eddie and Steve grinned.

"Yeah, I hate to pull you away from your boyfriend, but there are a lot of customers now, and I need help," Robin said softly. "Oh, did you know that the lock on this door is broken?"

"I do now," Steve replied.

"Nice bee pin, Munson," Robin said.

"Thanks, my new boyfriend gave it to me," he said, batting his eyelashes at Steve.

"That's cute," Robin said. "He pinned you."

"I know! We're sooo going steady. I'm hoping he'll give me his letterman and takes me to the sock hop," Eddie squealed, batting his eyelashes again.

"Okay," Steve rolled his eyes and pushed them out of the closet. "You two are not becoming friends."

"We're all becoming friends, Harrington," Robin replied.

"Oh. Well, that's okay then," Steve said softly.

And friends the three of them did become. Eddie even invited them to see their band play at the Hideout. They had both enjoyed it immensely to his delight. Robin and Jeff had hit it off, most likely laughing about Eddie and Steve. Eddie didn't think that Steve would pull him into the bathroom and get on his knees for him. He didn't think he was that good, but Steve, apparently, thought differently. Steve had been a big hit with all of his friends, especially when he remembered Gareth by making note of the fact that he didn't have his braces anymore. The only thing left to do was introduce Steve to his uncle. Coming out to Wayne had been easy because it didn't change anything between them like he thought it would.

"You're my nephew, and I'm still your uncle. If I didn't give up on you when you robbed that truck full of weed, then there is nothing you can do or be that's gonna scare me off, son," Wayne said.

Now, here they were, waiting for Steve to arrive. He should have been here by now. Eddie was pacing the floor of the living room, his stomach in knots.

"Relax, son, he's going to be here," Wayne said.

"I feel like something is wrong. Something is seriously wrong," Eddie frowned.

Suddenly, there was a loud mechanical roaring sound like the sound of a helicopter. Eddie and Wayne walked outside to find several military looking helicopters flying overhead. Eddie quickly scrambled on top of the trailer to see where they were flying. Eddie blanched when he saw the smoke, and he quickly scrambled back down.

"What?" Wayne asked.

"There's smoke coming from Starcourt," Eddie said. "Steve works there. I need to go!"

"We're both going, and I'll drive," Wayne said, clapping a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I knew it, I knew it," Eddie kept muttering as they drove.

When they pulled up to Starcourt, they found a military blockade in front of the mall. They were denied entry as soon as they walked up. Wayne pulled him aside.

"I'll distract them. You go find your boy," he said.

Eddie looked at him doubtfully for a moment before Wayne started yelling at the guards. Eddie took the opportunity to run past them.

"STEVE! STEVE?!" Eddie shrieked as he fought through people's arms.

He was full on sobbing, his eyes blurry with tears. He didn't notice until he ran into Hopper.

"Munson, what the hell are you doing here?" Hopper asked.

"I'm looking for Steve. Is he okay? He's not - tell me he's not - " Eddie started to babble.

"EDDIE?!" Steve’s voice sounded from across the parking lot.

Eddie let out a strangled sob and ran across the parking lot. He threw his arms around Steve’s neck, hugging him tightly. Steve was stunned for a moment, but he soon wrapped his arms around Eddie, hugging him back just as tightly. Eddie pulled back slightly, but not out of his arms.

"Oh my God, baby, what happened to your face?" Eddie asked and then sighed. "It's okay. You don't have to talk about it right now. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Steve. . .who is this guy, and why did he just call you baby?" A curly haired boy in a hat asked.

"This must be Dustin," Eddie grinned.

"Oh, you talked about me?" Dustin asked with a grin.

"Dustin, this is Eddie Munson," Steve rolled his eyes.

"Oh! He's the friend you wouldn't shut up about," Dustin said.

"You wouldn't shut up about little old me?" Eddie batted his eyelashes at him and paused. "You can tell your kids, I don't mind."

"Eddie's my boyfriend," Steve said.

"Boyfriend?!" Dustin and the kids exclaimed.

"Eddie, the redhead is Max Mayfield, El Hopper, Lucas Sinclair, Mike Wheeler, and this is - "

"Will, right?" Eddie asked.

"Oh my God! You're the guy from the music store!" Will exclaimed excitedly.

"Huh?" Steve asked.

"Mom! It's that guy from the music store that I told you about!" Will said excitedly. "The one who took the baseball for me!"

A short woman with brown hair and brown eyes came wondering over.

"You're the one who did that for my boy?" She asked.

"Yeah," Eddie said.

"Thank you. I'm Joyce Byers, by the way," she said and hugged him tightly. "Did I just hear you're Steve’s boyfriend?"

"Yes," he said.

"Oh, that's so great. I'm happy for you, Steve. He sounds like a great guy," Joyce said. "You guys are cute."

"Thanks, Joyce," Steve smiled.

"I didn't know you were gay, Steve," Mike said, not unkindly.

"We're bisexual," Steve and Eddie said in unison.

"We like both," Eddie explained when some of them looked confused.

"You can do that?!" Lucas exclaimed.

"Yes, idiot," Max said. "I think it's so cool that you're both bisexual."

"We think so too," Steve said.

He felt Steve leaning against him, and he looked over at him in concern.

"I'm going to get this one to a hospital," Eddie said.

Robin parted her way through the kids and stood on Steve’s other side.

"I'm going with you," Robin said.

"I don't need to go to the hospital," Steve said.

"Yes, dingus, you do," Robin said.

"I'm not taking no for an answer, sweetheart," Eddie said.

"Okay," Steve said as Eddie slipped an arm around his waist.

His uncle was waiting by the van, and he grimaced at the sight of Steve.

"You okay, son?" Wayne asked.

"He will be once he gets to the hospital," Eddie said.

"You must be Wayne. I'm glad to finally meet you. Wish it was under better circumstances, though," Steve said.

"Me too, son," Wayne said and helped Eddie get him into the van.

Robin climbed up front while Eddie climbed in the back with Steve. He pulled him into his arms as Wayne drove off.

"You scared the hell out of me," Eddie whispered.

"Sorry," Steve replied.

"Nothing to apologize for," Eddie said. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Steve said.

"Steve - I, uh, - " Eddie said nervously.

"Yeah?" Steve asked.

"I love you," Eddie whispered.

Steve picked his head up and gazed at him. It was true. He loved him. This time, he wasn't going to run away or sabotage it. The only direction he wanted to run to was towards Steve.

"I love you too," Steve said.

Suddenly, there came a loud sniffle from up front.

"Uncle Wayne, are you crying?" Eddie asked.

"No!" Wayne exclaimed, and Eddie cackled. "Shut up, boy!"

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. His life was complete.

[wanderingelvis]

i loved your ‘elvis takes care of reader on her period’ and the ‘innocent reader’ fics!! I was thinking of another innocent reader fic? Or maybe just normal reader? Honestly which ever you vibe with more :) Where Elvis takes reader out shopping and they have a little fashion show + more cute stuff 🫠

Thank you! I loved writing this request - I hope you like it! I specifically had Sugar Daddy!Elvis in mind here 🧚

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻 word count: 1,746

pairing: 1973!elvis x female innocent!reader

warnings: mention of virginity, slight smut, slight daddy kink

It was no secret that you'd had a modest upbringing - not just when it came to material items but also when it came to experience. Your mother and father had kept you sheltered and you'd had a relatively uneducated childhood which had hindered you a little when you grew older as you didn't really grow any wiser.

Elvis knew about your upbringing, actually, it was one of the things that drew him to you when you opened up to him one night. Elvis could relate to what you told him about not having many nice things or fancy possessions growing up and it made him feel protective over you, he wanted to be the one to expose you to his newfound world of luxurious and beautiful things.

And that's exactly what was happening, Elvis had taken you to a pretty boutique to pick out some new clothes for you as a special treat. Elvis had bought you clothes before, ones that he wanted to see you in but he'd never taken you shopping to actually choose the clothes before.

"It's pretty ain't it baby?" Elvis whispered standing behind you, rubbing the sides of your upper arms as he watched you chew on your lip as your fingers traced the soft tulle material of the dress on the hanger. You nodded gently in response, not saying anything. "Pretty dress like that should be on a pretty baby, don't ya think?" He hummed in your ear, sending shivers through your body. Even though he called you them all the time, you were still not used to the endless compliments and pet names that Elvis would give you. 

Elvis could tell you were hesitant to indulge in these little luxuries, he knew your battle-axe of a father had it engrained in you from very early on that money was to be spent on the necessities and for saving and not to be spent on something as frivolous as a party dress. You shuddered just thinking about what he would say if he could see you right now, looking at silly party dresses.

But they were just so pretty.

"It's so much money Elvis." You said softly, feelings of guilty washing over you. You knew Elvis was generous, someone just had to mention that they thought something looked nice and the next day it would be on their doorstep, courtesy of Elvis, but you were just feeling so overwhelmed at the cost until your eyes lit up a little and you spun round in Elvis' arms to face him.

"I could maybe, um, I could maybe pay for some of it! I don't have that much left but um, I should be paid soon and then, then I could give you some of it!" You said, your eyes wide eager enthusiasm. "A-and I could, maybe, um, maybe I could owe you!"

Now, Elvis knew as soon as the suggestion left your soft lips that he wouldn't allow you to pay him a dime towards the party dress that you obviously adored, however, after years of people around him trying to take advantage of him for his money, your small gesture meant a whole lot to him. 

Elvis chuckled a little as he studied your face which held nothing but sweet earnest, you were just so eager to please him. Elvis leaned down a little so he could crouch in front of you, taking your little hands in his big ones.

"Now lil' darlin', y'know I don't need any of your money, but that is awful sweet of ya baby,-"

"B-but I wanna give something back to you!" You interrupted, desperate to show Elvis that you really did want to contribute. 

Elvis laughed that deep, Southern chuckle, his large hand cupping your cheek as his thumb traced over it soothingly. "You're such a good lil' girl, y'know that?" Elvis cooed, raising his eyebrow slightly as he awaited your answer and watched as you blushed, recoiling cutely at the words.

You simply nodded in response, offering the big, tall, powerful man a soft smile.

"Oh baby, you know I wanna hear you say it." Elvis hummed. His tone was gentle and quiet but held so much dominance and power over you.

You opened your mouth which had suddenly gone dry at the command, "I-I'm a good little girl." You stuttered tripping over your words. Elvis knew that he'd made you feel all nervous and shy and he adored having that control over you.

"Atta girl." Elvis murmured. "Now, how's about you show me how pretty you're gonna look in that dress, hm?" Elvis whispered cooly, sending shivers through your small body and causing your eyes to go wide.

Elvis watched you intensely as you nodded at his not-so-negotiable suggestion. Elvis gave you a short nod back before rising fully and turning to the boutique workers who were stationed by the door, on alert to help with any request that either you or Elvis had.

"Ladies, I think we'll take it from here and Y/N here will try on one or two dresses. If y'all could wait outside the door and we'll let ya know when we're ready to make the purchase." Elvis dismissed, smiling at the women as they nodded and exited the room. 

Elvis practically sauntered to the couch in the middle of the boutique room, his large frame leaning back on the velvet couch and occupying all the space. He grinned at you as he sat, spreading his legs out, ready to watch you undress.

You shot him a tentative smile, feeling a little giddy and very overwhelmed at everything that was going on. Delicately, you picked out the beautiful tulle party dress and laid it in front of you before your trembling fingers began to unbutton the cute, short little dress you currently had on.

Sure, Elvis had seen you naked before, you'd been intimate in many ways already - you hadn't quite gone all the way yet, Elvis had told you that you weren't ready for that and you trusted him, but you still felt vulnerable, getting undressed in a beautiful albeit very public boutique in Vegas. Sure, you were in a private area in the boutique that Elvis had instructed the workers not to enter, but you'd really not done anything as risque as this before.

"Look at ya, followin' instruction so well that I didn't even have to tell you to strip and you're already desperate to get naked for me." Elvis said, snapping you out of your thoughts, making you blush for what must've been the thousandth time this afternoon. 

You loved the praise that Elvis gave you. You were always so eager to please.

You peeled off the dress, letting it drop to the plush, fluffy carpet, pooling by your ankles you were left in just your panties. You had forgone a bra and the cool air from the boutique breezed across your sensitive nipples, hardening them as Elvis watched, his eyes dark and full of lust. 

"Such a pretty girl," Elvis cooed, barely audible but enough for you to hear and let out a soft giggle that just the sound of could make Elvis' cock twitch. 

Elvis had been infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you. You were just a little, starry-eyed thing that was constantly seeking praise and reassurance, desperate to please anyone you encountered. The innocence that radiated off you had certainly made an impression on Elvis. 

Elvis quickly realised that he could instruct you to do anything and you'd do it without question and not just because you were eager to please, but also because you were so naive that even some of Elvis' more immoral demands would go right over your pretty little head.

"Put the dress on for Daddy, baby." Elvis grunted, palming subtly at his lower region, the idea of you standing in the middle of the boutique, exposed and trembling with nerves but compliant to his every whim, making him feel aroused.

You nodded at his words, grabbing the gorgeous pink dress with your shaky hands, taking it off the hanger and carefully unzipping the fabric. You shot Elvis an innocent grin that he reciprocated as the excitement of wearing something so beautiful grew.

You stepped into the dress, shimmying it up your body, wiggling your hips adorably as you adjusted it to fit your frame. The excitement became all a little too much, consuming you entirely as you ran to the full-length mirror to see the dress on your body, gasping when you were met with your reflection.

"It's so beautiful!" You giggled angelically, twirling around to see the full skirt spin and looking over your shoulder to see the detailing on the back.

"Baby." Elvis said, making you turn to him immediately. "C'mere." He gently commanded, beckoning at you with two long fingers. 

You scampered over to him, bare footed as he pat his lap, gesturing for you to sit there, as you did, giggling as the tulle covered the both of you as you swung your little legs, your feet not quite reaching the floor when you leant back on Elvis' chest.

"My beautiful girl." Elvis hushed, kissing the top of your head. 

You were in heaven.

Elvis continued to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, praising you and complimenting you, making you feel all fuzzy in your tummy, which you told him straight away, making him chuckle at how utterly sweet you were.

"D'ya like the dress, little 'un?" Elvis said, teasing you as the answer had been obvious as soon as you'd entered the boutique.

You nodded enthusiastically, "Oh yes! Oh, I love it! It's just so, um, so beautiful! And look at the pretty beads and pearls! It's so sparkly! Oh Elvis, it's the prettiest thing I've ever seen!" You said, not understanding that Elvis was teasing you but it didn't matter, Elvis loved making you happy like this.

"Well, I think we ought to buy it for ya then baby, what do ya say?" Elvis chuckled.

"Thank you! Thank you so much, it's the nicest thing I've ever been given, it's the nicest thing I've ever worn! It's gonna be so special! I'll only wear it for special occasions!" You said with those adorable bush-baby eyes of yours.

"Special occasions hm? I think that's a good idea lil' mama." Elvis said, brushing your hair behind your shoulder as you sat upright in  his lap. "You know what that means, little one?" Elvis asked, making you furrow your brows and tilt your head to the side cutely in confusion.

"What?"

"Daddy's gonna take your virginity in this dress, baby." 

taglist: @reddie-freddie @meetmeatyourworst @octobers-snow @kxnnxy @slimerspengler @elvisbf @astralheart21 @prompted-wordsmith @vintagegirl2005 @imaginationlast @presleyenterprise @librafilms @ccab @wolywolymoley @wwebaby657 @billhaderstan420 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @elvispresleywife @ellie-24 @hollbunn @sassanoe @gothicphantom @eliseinmemphis @fallinlovewithurlove

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hey there Astra! Hope you're taking care of yourself and doing well 😄. Can I request Izou, Thatch, Marco, and Ace with a shy!s/o? If it's too much you can just do Izou, thank you so much you're the best!! 🤍

So this is also my @onepiece-bingo submission for 'First Kiss'. Thank you for being so patient with me.

Warnings: first kisses, Shy!Reader, Izou, Thatch, Marco, Ace

Word Count: 1490

Izou

     It was cute how shy you were, how you hid behind him if too much attention was on you, how you sank in your seat to try to not be noticed, and how you squeaked and quietly insisted on being put down if he lifted you into the air. That being said, it was hard to keep a ‘low profile’ when you were dating the prettiest pirate in the New World and 16th division commander. The man attracted attention and oozed confidence and an elegance that drew people to him. You, by comparison, were relatively plain. Choosing not to wear flashy makeup or clothing in order to not attract attention. Head down and refusing to meet people’s eyes so that they wouldn’t approach you. Izou wasn’t really bothered by your shyness, in fact he found it rather endearing and cute. There was… one thing he didn’t like about your shyness though. You hated PDA. PDA always brought attention to you, attention and teasing. The most he could do was hold your hand but even then, you preferred to hold one of his long sleeves, afraid of the attention you might get if you actually held his hand. The crew never teased you on anything, they knew better than to try to tease you, less they invoke Izou’s wrath, but you still worried about all the eyes that could be watching you. He hadn’t even had his first kiss with you yet! But he was going to change that today! He had a nice place to pull you aside, away from the prying eyes of the others, secluded and not likely to be bothered. So pulling you through the halls, he smiled back at you, the confused look on your face only making you cuter.

     “Y/n.” he said softly, caressing your cheek as he closed the door behind you, “it’s not the romance you deserve, but I’ve been waiting too long to do this.” Izou said softly, pulling you into a sweet kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck. Suddenly, you wished you’d done this sooner, that you’d had the courage to kiss him in front of the others. Breaking the kiss, you looked up at him, in wonder.

     “Can… can we do that again?” you asked softly, the dark haired man smiling as he pulled you into another kiss.

Ace

     Ace was wild, loud, outgoing, and commanding. You were shy, quiet, introverted, and timid. Logically, your relationship made little sense, but then, love didn’t make any logical sense. You liked how he was always doing grand gestures to show you how much he cared, how he was pulling you out on some new adventure, and how he showered you in affection. He loved how cute you were, how your need to avoid attention kept him out of too much trouble, how you quietly gave him small gifts. That being said, there were things you both hated. You hated how he was always attracting attention to you, despite your protests, you hated how he was always pulling you into his trouble, and how he’d pull you with him when he was really happy, drawing the attention of the entire crew to the two of you. He hated how you always wanted to be a wallflower during parties, how he wasn’t allowed to show you off and tell everyone how amazing you were, and the one he hated the most, how adamantly you refused PDA. He wanted to walk down the street with his arm wrapped around your waist, he wanted to spin you around in his arms, and most importantly, he wanted his damn first kiss with you! But he’d be damned if your shyness stopped him! It was the dead of night that he tugged you to the back of the ship.

     “Ace, what’s so important that you needed to talk to me at this hour at the back of the ship?” you asked, confused and slightly annoyed. You’d been getting ready for bed, what did he want? Ace just gave you one of his sunny smiles as he pulled you into a passionate kiss, hands on either cheek, holding your head as he sighed happily into the kiss. You couldn’t stop yourself from melting into the kiss, hands gripping his shoulders. Pulling back, he grinned at the dazed look in your eyes. He didn’t bother to say a thing as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into another kiss, neither of you aware of the small audience that peeked through the windows, quietly cheering and exchanging bet money. 

Marco

     Sitting in his office, Marco smiled over at you. You always looked so at home in the solitude of his office, away from the rowdy and often boisterous crew. Helping the phoenix with whatever various paperwork or office work he had. He understood your desire to stay out of the spotlight, to stay away from the excitement and attention that often came with much of the crew. In fact, it astounded him that someone as shy as you even sailed with the Whitebeard Pirates. The most infamous pirate currently alive, someone everyone kept an eye on, and you stayed with them. Getting up, he walked over to you, pushing some hair out of your face and placing a gentle kiss to your forehead, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink. 

     “Sorry, Little Bird, you looked too cute-yoi.” he said softly, large hand cupping your cheek as he sat on the edge of the desk you were working at. Smiling up at him, you leaned into his touch, he was always so sweet. Turning your head, you placed a soft kiss on his palm, the sweet gesture making him sigh happily. Leaning down, he put a hand under your chin, his lips meeting yours, lightly pushing you back into your chair so he could deepen the kiss. Pulling away, you couldn’t help but giggle.

     “What’s so funny, Little Bird?” he asked, as you smiled at him.

     “It’s just… every kiss feels like the first with you. I… I still get butterflies and my stomach still does flips.” you admittedly shyly. 

     “I agree, your lips still taste just as sweet-yoi.” he said with a nod before pulling you into another kiss. He’d never been so happy that he worked away from the crew, able to share kisses like this with you as often as he desired.

Thatch

     The man was a damned flirt, though perhaps that’s what attracted you to him in the first place, how he made you swoon, how charming and sweet he was… his culinary skills didn’t hurt either. Well… mostly, in any case. It was sweet how he’d make you all sorts of culinary confections, cooking your favorite just for you, or other delicious treats. But he was always presenting them in the biggest, most ostentatious, attention drawing ways. Ways that had you looking for somewhere to hide from the prying eyes. Sure, he usually tried to keep said ostentatiousness in private, but on more than one occasion, he’d drawn the attention of damn near the entire crew to you. Hiding in the kitchen, you glanced back at Thatch, making sure that nobody could peek in and see the two of you. 

     “Don’t worry, my sweet treat, nobody’s going to bother us.” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. 

     “I just… you have a tendency to draw everybody’s attention and you know I hate that.” you said, placing one of your hands over his as you relaxed in his hold.

     “I’ll make you a deal, you give me one thing and I’ll try to be better about that.” he offered, making you raise an eyebrow.

     “I suppose that depends on the ‘one thing’.” you said, as he continued holding you.

     “Just… close your eyes and trust me.” he whispered in your ear, making you sigh both from exasperation and your heart melting. Doing as he said, you felt him let you go for just a moment before his hands were on your waist again, picking you up and setting you on the counter as his lips met yours. You wouldn’t deny that you’d been waiting for this moment for a while, but there never seemed to be a good, quiet, moment for your first kiss. A moment where the crew wouldn’t bother you with wolf whistles and ‘good natured’ teasing. Your hands clung to the yellow scarf he was always wearing, keeping him pulled close to you as you remained lip locked until you needed to breathe. 

     “A-alright, that… I’ll allow you one more for free, but after that you have to keep your end of the deal.” you said shyly, staring down at your lap as you blushed. Thatch chuckled and pulled you into another kiss, more than happy to get another ‘freebie’. 

[okkalo]

can u do a drabble/scenario with bllk boys ( nagi, baro, isagi, rin, sae and any other you’d like) where they gift their s/o hand made gifts

like i definitely think kunigami or chigiri would know how to crochet so they’d make their s/o a blanket or book cover

thankyou!! and have a great day!!

hi again!! yes i can do that :) i can definitely see chigiri doing some crochet idk about kunigami though,, he would def learn though!! anyways i hope you enjoy and have a good day!! 🫶

also on my blog scenarios and drabbles are two different things so i’m gonna assume you mean writing with no headcanons;;

characters: nagi, barou, isagi, rin, sae

nagi

honestly, nagi was not one to do crafts. he wasn’t one to do anything at all, really. the only reason he decided to do something is because he saw someone doing origami and the teacher wouldn’t let him sleep. besides, he’s heard you talk about how cute handmade gifts are, so, why not?

he ended up making a cat. a really bad cat. none of it was symmetrical and the face he drew on could give you nightmares. you were careful not to say anything about it when he handed it to you when walking home, knowing this is a once-in-lifetime opportunity.

“you made this for me?” you asked, examining the poorly folded cat. nagi hummed in agreement, hand sliding down to take yours. you made sure to give him a kiss on the cheek as a thanks.

“don’t expect another one,” he mumbled, eyes struggling to stay opened in the bright sunlight.

“i wasn’t expecting another,” you replied, giving him a small squeeze on the hand. he actually might make another one just to get another kiss on the cheek.

barou

the best you’ll get out of barou is him fixing your clothes. he’s never been one for giving gifts, especially one’s that he hand makes. he feels too stupid doing it. he’s always one to give you flowers, just never anything made from him.

however, he will absolutely fix your clothes to how you desire. lost a button? immediately sews it back on. got a rip in your shirt? fixes it like a pro.

he can also make you a piece of clothing if you beg. he would rather not, though. and don’t even think about teasing him for any of this.

you had just gotten out of the shower to retreat back to your room and you were met with the pants you had given up on sitting on your bed. you had been complaining about the button popping off, upset due to losing your favorite pair of jeans. now, suddenly, they were sitting nicely in front of you with a button. you certainly didn’t do that. you know exactly who did though.

“barou? did you fix my pants?” you ask, trudging into the living room to see him wiping down the coffee table. he barely looked up, too focused on the task at hand.

“yeah,” his gruff made you smile, skipping over to sit down next to him. you gave a sweet kiss on his cheek, hugging him afterwards as well.

“thank you.”

isagi

he saw you fanning over people making flowers out of pipe cleaners and decided to give it a go. actually enjoyed it so much that he started making more than he needed. gave you a full size bouquet at the end of the day.

your jaw dropped at the colorful pipe cleaners all bundled together to make a bouquet. you excitedly took the bouquet, flashing your boyfriend a huge smile. “isagi, i love these! did you make them all?”

he sheepishly nodded, scratching the back of his head, “yeah, i didn’t realize i made a lot until all the green pipe cleaners were gone.” his confession drew a soft laugh out of you, his cheeks tinting at the sound.

“it’s a perfect amount, thank you,” you drew him in for a kiss, him loving to feeling of your upturned lips against his.

rin

he had to hear nights worth of your gushing over small crochet plushies until he finally decided to try it out. little did he know, he was getting into a lot. absolutely struggled with the hook, muttering cusses every time something didn’t go his way.

rin, however, was not a quitter. he finally finished one, though severely disappointed with how bad it had looked. rin was also a perfectionist to heart. so, he gave it another go, this time paying attention to every small detail. finally, weeks later of hiding his project in drawers you never check, he presented you a small hello kitty plushie.

“oh my god! rin this is adorable! you seriously made this?” you squealed, immediately taking the small plush in both of your hands to examine it.

“yeah,” he spoke nonchalantly, heart secretly jumping in joy seeing you so excited for something he did. you jumped up to give him a big hug, giggling all the while.

“thank you, my sweet boyfriend,” give him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek. he loves it when you do it. don’t mind his sigh.

sae

you knew better than to expect a decent gift from the heart from sae. that didn’t stop the leap your heart did once he handed you a piece of paper saying that he drew you. your poor, poor heart.

he drew you alright. just in the worst way possible. at first you wanted to believe he actually tried but was just horrible at drawing, but the more you looked at it the more you could tell he couldn’t have given less of a shit what he drew. he watched your face changes in joy too, seeing how your excited smile turned into a weird squiggle and then to a plain frown.

“sae, you did this on purpose,” you looked up to see his smirk, your heart officially dropping.

“i think i drew you perfectly,” your whine only made him feel better. give him the cold shoulder later and he might just think about apologizing while holding you close.

unedited thanks for reading!

[zarla-s]

Man it's been a long time since I've done an ask cluster! Let's see if I can get some down...

He's an extremely fun character to write for and play with! So in that sense I'm fond of him, haha. He's such a huge disaster of a person, there's always something fun to do with him. Well "fun" in a relative sense.

I don't have anything to forgive him for, he didn't hurt me. |D He hurt the brothers!

I do have an idea for a cute feature inspired by Six-Eared Macaque! I should really sit down and do that already... and finish the one I half started but never finished...

I don't think my opinion on any of them changed! I love them all, haha. Which ones I drew comics about just depends on which ones I get ideas for really. Sometimes I get Alphys ideas and sometimes I get Goatparents ideas! Inspiration is fickle!

I don't have any solid plans or anything. :B Just gonna keep chugging along with silly comics and art! Work on Defrag and such. I'd like to finish a Ladyverse comic I've had lying around forever, and I had vague plans for doing a doujin for them too I could work on... and also seeing if I could format Handplates into a book format... I've always got a bunch of projects, haha.

It works on that level! It wasn't intentional though. |D

I do enjoy speculation! I don't really have much of my own though, I didn't predict anything in chapter 2 so now I'm assuming I can't predict anything in the future chapters either, haha.

Emesis Blue is great! Some really beautiful visuals in there, very striking! Love the mood of it too and a lot of the surreal imagery. I think it helped spur me back into TF2 again, haha. Medic and Scout's relationship was so cute.

I have thought about this! It has its share of challenges though... I outlined them more in this post. A pdf would be more doable though... could even include some extra stuff as well! Hmm...

I can see that! He'd probably spend as much time out in the rain as he could just doing whatever to stay outside.

It was pretty much always going to end like that. I always wanted it to end on a hopeful note! Which might seem weird with how dark it is at the beginning. I DID for a brief period at the very beginning of Handplates think about stopping with the Pacifist run, but that was only because I thought going where I wanted to go would take too long and already the project seemed so dauntingly huge at the time, haha. But it was always going to end in a positive way!

Gaster talks about what he originally intended to create here, and he explains a bit about the physical experiments he runs on the brothers here. They aren't really a solution in and of themselves so much as tools to try and find a way to break the barrier. Really though, Gaster got stuck in the sunk-cost fallacy lol.

I don't really have opinions about what canon Gaster would be like. |D Handplates Gaster is his own thing really. Canon Gaster, who knows! Deltarune Gaster, who knows! I will say I hope Gaster stays a mystery in Deltarune and never actually shows up but I think the odds of that are really low at this point.

I thought about doing a script along those lines! I did a few rough drafts of one, but it never really went anywhere... it'd end up dead-ending or kind of meandering off. I might see if I can get an actual script down for a side-comic or something in the future... it might be better suited for a fic.

I was just thinking about this lately! I was picturing Gaster totally forgetting about that until he sees Papyrus squinting and is like OH GOD YOUR EYES THAT'S RIGHT D: and goes to get him looked at lol.

I couldn't come up with a good idea for Flowey which is a shame, I do like him, haha. If one comes to me though I might make a little side comic about it!

Gaster's LV is complicated... his stats in-game are ludicrous if I recall correctly. Did he carry the damage from his murders into the void, even if those murders weren't his in the new timeline? Deep thoughts.

He fed them anything he could find, haha. Which is why sometimes they just ended up with chocolate bars (which he intended as dinner for himself). He probably fed them more often than he fed himself lol. He did feed them fairly regularly though.

Not about skeletons, probably. |D

Man I know I had an explanation for this but it was so long ago... it's hard for me to remember. It could be that the Riverperson is just weird and has weird insight into elements of things, had a prophetic dream... I don't know! It bugs me now that I can't remember this, haha.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"The Best Gift He Can Give." Mickey Altieri X AFAB! Reader.

Okay, so the amazing and fantastic @mrsaltieri-real had a birthday a while ago, and I wrote this as a gift. I edited it to make it reader insert friendly and now I am sharing it with all of you! I hope you all enjoy it.

---

Rating. Explicit. Length. 5.4K. Mickey Altieri X AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Your Boyfriend David Fucking Sucks. Your Boyfriend Cheats On You. Apologies To Dudes Named David Who Don't Suck. Stalking. Breaking And Entering. Murder. Blood. Gore. Violence. Making Out. Grinding. Vaginal Fingering. Eating Out. Eating Ass. Hair Pulling. Spanking. Praise. Degredation. Rimming. Vaginal Sex. Cream Pie. Confessions Of Feelings.

---

There are people in this world who do not deserve anything. They don’t deserve kindness, or understanding, they don’t deserve friends, they don’t even deserve to breathe. One such asshole was your boyfriend, David. You don’t even know why he is your boyfriend, honestly you’ve had friends ask, and you are never sure much what to say. He treats you terribly, he is mean to you, rude, constantly picks fights, and it isn’t like you can say, “Well at least the sex is good-”

Because it is very much not. You’d been together for four years, and it had never been good.

Mickey didn’t know about that, though. All he knew to start is that you were cute, and he liked how you looked, the rest started to become revealed to him through watching you over time. He remembers the first afternoon he started to pick up on that very clearly. He was in the library, one table over, trying to do some actual work, sure he wasn’t paying for his degree, but he couldn’t exactly flunk out either, and he overheard an interaction, “Do you have to turn your pages so loud?”

Your head snaps up, looking over to him, Mickey’s own eyes flick up, but his head doesn’t raise, brows furrow in question mirroring yours as you ask, “Excuse me?”

“You are turning the pages of your book really loudly-” He drew out your name, focused on it, and that made your expression turn from somewhat annoyed confusion to outright disgust, a roll of your eyes. “Fuck off David.” 

His tone made Mickey’s skin crawl, “Sooo mature, this is a library, can’t you keep it down and show some class?” 

Mickey had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping, who the fuck was this guy, and why was he so comfortable talking to you like that? He thought boyfriends were supposed to be fucking nice to their girlfriends, and here he was treating you like he hated you, as if you were shit on the bottom of his shoe.

That was not the only time he saw you being treated so shamefully by David, either. Seems whenever he overheard, walked by, you were being talked down to by him or already mid-fight. 

Worse still he would complain about what you wore deriding any skin you wanted to show, and what you were into, he’d overheard him belittling your love of movies too. “How the fuck can you do that shit?”

“Do what shit, David?” You sighed, and he asked, “What the same fucking movies over and over, don’t you ever get bored?”

Your reply comes out almost bored, edging on annoyed, “Those same movies over and over are definitely more interesting than talking to you so-” 

“Woooow, is that any way to talk to me?” He’d ask, and Mickey would think to himself that you should treat him a Hell of a lot worse for how he acts.

You and Mickey had been friends in secret for a while, it had been a very quiet affair, mostly because David would be threatened and jealous, something that bugged Mickey, but he was just glad for the time spent with you and to get to know you. Small moments carved out whenever that prick wasn’t around became absurdly meaningful. 

One day he found you alone on a park bench on campus and seemingly very upset, he couldn’t leave you like that, your boyfriend isn’t around and so he comes forward until he is close enough to ask, “Hey uh, you good?”

Head raises, and you sniff, hands rushing to wipe at your nose and mouth, you nod shakily, mouth dry as you say, “Yeah, totally, so, so good.” 

He lets himself smile this kind of sad smile as he sits down beside you, humming out, “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Leave it alone.” You sigh, and he presses, “No way, there has to be a reason you’re this upset and I wanna know.” 

You slump back further into the bench, averting your gaze as you confess, “You caught me, M’ not good at all. I just found out that my boyfriend fucking cheated on me.” 

Immediate anger flares as does genuine concern for you, both emotions taking hold makes his eyebrows raise and his hand reach out to touch your elbow, your attention snaps back to him. Your eyes meet, and he says, “You can talk to me.”

“What is there to talk about?” It’s said very quietly, and his grip on you tightens by a fraction as he encourages, “Plenty. It isn’t healthy to keep this shit bottled up, what he did was fucked, talk to me about it.” 

You haven’t opened up in such a long time but right now, something in his eyes beckons you and the urge overtakes, you feel safe and think, maybe you should open up. Your stomach is churning, and you think, what harm could it do? You start to tell him, a verbal torrent that once it began it was impossible to stop, as you vent about David and the series of horrible things he had put you through in your relationship. He listens, and only when you stop for breath does he say, “You don’t deserve to be treated like this, you could do so much better than an asshole like him.”

A small shrug as you brush him off, “It’s easier to stay in this relationship because it’s all I’ve ever known. Even if I broke things off with him, he’d never really let me go.”

“What do you mean he wouldn’t let you go?” His question isn’t entirely unexpected, but you still struggle for a moment to respond, “I dunno, I just…I know he would put up a massive fight, and I couldn’t ever just make a clean break. He wouldn’t let that happen.” 

He licks his lips tentatively, an almost nervous action, “He…He doesn’t own you. Hon, you know that, right?”

You looked over at Mickey and said quietly, unconvincingly, “I know that.” 

He wasn’t sold. He hated the look in your eyes right now. Not only that, but he tried to break the tension and asked, “Is the sex that good or-?”

You laughed, head tipping back, genuine smile crossing your face, you shake your head as you catch your breath and tell him, “God no, it’s terrible! So vanilla, nothing but missionary, he never even eats me out.” You exhale and expound further, “He expects me to blow him too.” 

“Fuck off no way.” His reaction pulled another laugh out of you, and he insists, “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.” You sighed. He speaks with conviction, anger but not at you, never at you, more frustration at your situation and how you seemingly have just accepted it. “Why the fuck do you put up with this asshole? Seems like you are doing all the giving with no take.” 

A shrug as you tell him, refusing to look at him any longer, “I’ve grown used to it, it’s been just so long of the same thing, you know?” 

That was fucking bullshit. Sunk cost fallacy much? Clearly you were never going to get out from under this jerk’s thumb on your own, so he was going to do something about this. It would take some work, but you were more than worth it. He started to stalk him, determined to get real dirt on him, he learns his routine and becomes far too acquainted with even the most basic and mundane things about your boyfriend. 

It doesn’t take him long, around a month in is when Mickey catches David in the act of cheating, he was fucking some girl from his film class. 

It was infuriating! Here he has you, a total fucking catch, and he doesn’t appreciate you, mistreats you, and cheats on you on top of all that. What a complete piece of fucking trash. 

He has every intention of telling you when he has the adequate proof-

Wait.

What if he tells you and you still stay? You seemed so downtrodden, what if not even this is enough to convince you to leave? Fuck, that would be terrible, but he couldn’t let that hold him back. 

He just needed to stay on task, stay focused, and this could work out. He clung closer, tried to be around you more and provide more support, but that, as it turns out, only made it harder. Having to be confronted so frequently with the damage he was doing to you, how sad you were, it made him hurt in kind. He really fucking cared about you.

On top of all of this, his presence is apparently putting more pressure on your relationship. He comes across you and David having a loud and public altercation a few days later, as he gets closer he realizes it is about him. 

“You can’t tell me what to do!” You insist, and David bites back, “Oh, can’t I?”

“No! You can’t! What is the problem anyway?” You try to implore, and he isn’t having it, “I don’t like him! No, scratch that, I fucking hate him. You shouldn’t be talking to any guy, I don’t want you to even look in his direction-”

“You are so ridiculous-” 

He can’t stay. He can’t listen to this. Furthermore, he can’t stand idly by any longer. He is going to do something about this. 

Breaking into David’s place was easy, taking his time is what was difficult. He eases into his bedroom, costume on, knife already in his hand, and comes up to the bed. You were back at your own place, far away and hopefully peacefully sleeping, blissfully unaware of just what he was about to do for you, of the devotion he has and was about to display. 

He wanted to spit in the fucker’s face for what he did to you, more than that he wanted to main and mutilate him, wanted to inflict as much physical pain onto him as he inflicted mental pain onto you. He reached down, he ripped the blanket back, and with one smooth motion he stabbed the sharp blade into David’s stomach. 

The reaction was immediate, his eyes snapping open, mouth open in a soundless scream as it seems all the air leaves him, hands flying to his stomach trying to clutch at the blade but stopping short, afraid to touch the intrusion. He ripped the knife out and then stabbed it back in, immediately. He twists, David inhaled as much as he could but then breathed out, hiccuping on the air, it becomes a complete bloodbath. Mickey cuts, he stabs, he hurts him as he can’t hold back, and David chokes out, “Why?”

Mickey laughs, this cold and calculating kind of laugh before he takes the mask off, and then he starts to talk, “You are a pathetic excuse for a man, a worthless piece of trash-” 

The knife is ripped out and brought back down harder than before, the steel scrapes bone, and he sobs, “-you don’t deserve someone like her, you know that, right? You’ve been mistreating her for way too long.”

The metal wrenched free and then drove deeply inward again, the next sound of pain is a short gasp, Mickey tells him further, “That is why I am doing this, I am going to step in and take over.” 

David looked so pitiful, tears down his cheek, bloodstained and movements slowing, weakening. Mickey leaned down and told him lowly,“I’m going to make her feel so, SO much better than you ever did.” 

He is unrecognizable. Organs are laying all around him, cuts on his face making it, so his identity is basically gone, partially skinned in places. He wished he could have taken the time to skin him alive, fillet him like a fucking fish, but even that would be too good for him. He is sure that he has drained him of about half of his blood, the mattress is soaked, heavy and thick, there is a squelching sound when Mickey gets off the bed. The blood has soaked through the robe, it is staining his shirt and jeans he is positive of it, the handle of the knife is slick, he can feel coagulated blood that has gathered between his fingers, the clots are slippery and almost black.

There is one place he wants to be and it’s with you.

He goes to your place. 

It is obscenely late when you open the door, you are in your pyjamas, you look fucking gorgeous to him. 

“Mickey?” You rub over your eyes, suppressing a yawn, you ask, “What are you doing here?”

He pushes past you, comes inside as he starts to talk, “I had to come see you, I just did something amazing tonight-”

You close the door, he is talking quickly, a mile a minute, excited, manic. “I was thinking about what told me about David and I just got so fucking inspired, you know? So I decided I just had to do it, so I did but, darling, you need to tell me, what else didn’t he do for you?”

“What he didn’t do?” You repeat, softer, confused, and he nods, brows raised and eyes alight, mischievous, “Yes, tell me all the things he doesn’t do for you.”

It is then that you take him in awake enough to register, and notice what he is wearing. A black robe, almost plastered to his body, your eyes flit downwards, and you see that it’s shiny in a particular way that tattles on it being wet, but wet with what? Eyes catch red droplets on the ground coming off of the frayed edged of the black fabric, your gaze shoots back up. You smell the iron, and you see the small flecks of red on his face, and so the question tumbles out, “What is with the robe and is that fucking blood?”

This half smile on his face and a cock of his head as he tells you as if it couldn’t be more obvious, “I just killed David. For you sweetheart.”

You don’t feel angry or upset, to your complete surprise, you feel an insane and immense sense of relief that David is gone. You no longer have to put up with him. 

A sharp inhale as the feeling sinks in, you let it wash over you, not fighting it, letting it soak into your bones. Another question spills out as you ask, “What did you do to him?”

His grin is so wide you worry it hurts his face. 

“I snuck into his apartment, broke in with no issue, I crept into his bedroom and I stabbed a knife-” He brought one foot up, boot rested on the chair at your desk, hauling up the robe, careful not to get blood on more than he had already his hand grasps the hand of the knife. He unsheathes it from the holster that was strapped to his leg, his foot comes back down, he is holding the knife up, you can see the dried blood all over the blade and his hand, he continues to expound, “-this knife, into his stomach.”

He mimics the motion, smile still pulling his features tight, “He gasped and struggled, it was pathetic. I ran him through over and over, the sound was wet, the blood gushed.” 

A sigh crosses his lips, he is looking down at the blade, turning it over in his hands. You, too, are fixated on the glinting metal as it moves from one hand to the next. He keeps talking. “You’d think sound would be a concern. That he’d be screaming his fucking head off, right?”

You look up, he is staring at your face, expectant, you respond to the question, a shaky nod. He continues on, a point of his knife, “Wrong. When you stab someone right, it sucks all the air out of their lungs.” The images his is giving fills your head, of David lying there, bleeding and as Mickey put it, pathetic. He is still expounding. “I was relentless, kept stabbing him, he had no chance to catch his breath. You can’t scream if you can’t breathe.”

You listen enthralled as he describes how he cut flesh from bone, how chunks fell away, digging fingers into open wounds, manually separating cartilage and skin and muscle apart just because he could. He speaks of how much blood he drained and by the end of it you were breathing much harder as was he. Almost no space between the pair of you.

He is looking in your eyes, and he speaks, “I ask again, what did he never do for you?” 

You can’t help it, inquiring, “Why do you want to know so bad?” 

“Because sweetheart-” He sets the knife down on your desk, his hand reaches out to take yours, tacky with partially dried crimson, and he says, “-baby, darling, I want to make you feel all the things you’ve missed out on the past few years.” 

You are as explicit in describing what you’d been missing as he was when describing the violence he did to David. 

“He never made me cum with his mouth, his dick, not even his fingers. I haven’t felt a hot tongue on my clit in fucking years.” You start, a deep inhale before you force it out, speak in hushed tones, “He only ever fucked me in missionary, he never put a hand on my throat and choked me, never pulled my hair, he never praised me, fuck, Mick, he never even degraded me.”

You sigh now, “Never spanked me, never ate my ass, God do I want someone to eat my ass and above all else, he never overstimulated me-”

He cut you off. His mouth crashing into yours after far too long, he kisses you deeply, and you fall into it, into him. A moan into his mouth, hands reach out, fingers tangle in the sleeves, they feel damp, you flex your fingers, you squeeze, beads of blood squeeze through your fingers. Your tongue runs over his bottom lip, and you revel in the taste of him. Christ it was never like this with David, a simple kiss with Mickey was serving to do you in, the graze of his lips against yours, of his tongue brushing yours was sending sparks throughout you. 

Feet stumble back, you pull him with you, keep him near, unwilling to break the connection you’ve made and yet you do, a quiet mumbling of, “Get this fucking robe off-”, pulling on his sleeves for further emphasis. The contact is broken for him to listen and obey, he pulls the robe off and drops it onto the floor, the blood has soaked through to his t-shirt he was wearing, and again you are confronted with what he did. He killed David for you, the evidence of his care for you, of his total devotion is splattered all over him, plastering his shirt to him, soaked into thin fabric. 

This time, you are pulling him back to you, greedy and needy as you do so. Mouths meet again as you are moving backward, the back of your knees hit the edge of your mattress, and you let yourself fall, tugging him down with you. 

His leg slots between yours as his lips descend on yours again, you sink further into the mattress as he, in turn, sinks into you, melting into the contact, his leg presses closer, knee is tighter to you and that makes you inhale sharply. That sets something off in him. 

One of his hands moves, threads in your hair, and he tugs, it forcefully breaks the kiss and pulls a moan from you at the delicious rush of pain. His mouth moves, presses over your jaw, down your throat, and he makes your hips move on their own, grinding against him, desperate for more already. A squirm of your hips as you drag your clothed slit against his solid thigh, and the wash of pleasure makes you have to suppress a shudder, a whining moan held back as well as you bite your bottom lip. 

He notices immediately, pulling back from your neck, another tug of your hair, and he makes you look at him, “None of that shit, I don’t fucking care how late it is, I don’t care if every son of a bitch on this entire floor files a noise complaint, I want to hear you, no holding back.”

You are stunned, speechless, your hips shift, and you are drenched, underwear plastered to you and one of his hands locks onto your throat, he squeezes and says, “I’m not hearing you say yes.” 

You just cannot believe everything you’ve ever wanted has fallen into your lap, you choke out, “Yes, yes, please, fucking yes-”

He shuts you up with another kiss and that is how things seriously escalate, both of you rushing to undress each other. You hadn’t been wearing much to sleep, the tank top and shorts were removed, his shirt and shoes are off now, and he stops. You are looking up at him, admiring him the same way he is you, even with almost all his clothing removed there is still the mark of the crime he committed, blood left on his torso after leaking through his shirt, splatters on his arms, the small flecks on his face. He is looking at you like you are a full meal with nothing more in his way than damp lace, “Fucking Christ-”

He sighs, his fingers trace the curve of your breast before he fully takes it in his hand, he looks helpless in regard to what he wants to do, he follows the impulse, he leans down, and his mouth latches onto one of your nipples. His tongue circles and you sigh, arching up into him. 

His teeth graze as one of his hands slips between your thighs, he only gets one pass of his fingers over the wet material before he decides that isn’t good enough. Fingers hook in the thin garment, and he pulls, he hopes you didn’t give a shit about them because he cannot be bothered to remove them properly, he pulls until it rips and throws it aside. No chance of you complaining because his fingers are on you, strong digits press to you bare for the first time. 

Your eyes roll back with a soft, “Oh my fucking God-” which Mickey absolutely eats up as he starts to move, fingers trace slowly, dipping low, catching some mess and dragging it up, using it as lube to rub your clit. 

The increase in pleasure was immediate, your body slowly starts to tense as the feeling digs into your bones, you fully give in to what he is doing to you. 

“Do you know how much I’ve poured over this?” He asks, and you say quietly, “No.” 

“So many nights.” He confesses, his fingers pick up the pace, tight circles rubbed, and he tells you more, “I’d think about this, about having you under me, about doing-” Two fingers ease inside of you, and he moans like it’s his pleasure, breathing out, “-this.” 

“You feel better than I ever thought you could, so fucking wet, so soft.” He groans, and you arch closer, his palm presses nearer, he moves and works with you, fingers curling into that sweet spot and hand grinding over your clit. You listen, and you feel, minutes later, very quickly between his hushed words and expert touch you are shivering and telling him, “M’ close Mickey-” 

“Fuck yes, do it.” The firm command makes it impossible to stop, you tip over and cum. It feels phenomenal, it’s been ages since anyone has done this, showed this level of care and investment in your enjoyment. He doesn’t relent, keeps his pace steady and consistent, and draws out every bit of feeling he can from your high. 

He doesn’t let you rest, your body sinks back into the mattress, you are panting, and he slides his fingers out of you and right into his mouth. Not only that, but he tastes you for the first time and moans from the salt and tang of you coating his tongue. 

“You taste better than anything I’ve ever put in my mouth.” He slips down your body, drags of his lips lighting further fire in you until he settles between your thighs, his mouth latches onto your still very sensitive clit and your thighs clamp around his head immediately. Your hand shoots down, fingers in his stupidly attractive hair, and you moan loudly, just as he wants you to. 

He was ravenously hungry but still taking his time with this, he forces himself to slow down just a touch, he knows you haven’t had this in years thanks to that douchebag of an ex-boyfriend. He laps at your leaking slit, from hole all the way up to your throbbing clit, he swirls his tongue around the boarders once, twice, three times before passing over it again, making you gasp out his name. 

Mickey luxuriates in the act and does his best to ensure that you do as well, sucks with purpose and is quickly rocketing you to another orgasm, you can barely string together a sentence to warn him of that, but he knows, fingers twist further in his hair, and you pull with a cry of his name, in another two short minutes you are cumming again, it’s stronger than the first, you are louder than you were last time, but he continues. He doesn’t stop on your come down, he just slows, goes lighter, his licks are running up the length of you, between your lips and on top of your twitching bud, over and over, methodical, and you can’t stop shaking. 

Somehow through the haze of pleasure you manage to speak, calling out to him, “Mi-Mickey, oh my fucking God-”

He lifts his mouth, you expect him to give you a breather or to give some pithy response that will turn you on further and make you leak more, but instead his hands are on your hips, he tilts them up and his tongue dives lower. His tongue circles over your asshole, and you actually sob, shocked and broken from the sudden stab of ecstasy that hits your gut, your hand leaving his hair, instead gripping at the sheets. You can’t stop from squirming, which makes his job harder, you hear something that sounds akin to a mildly annoyed growl. 

One of his hands lifts off your hip, and he lands a firm smack on your ass as he grits out, “Stop squirming so much babe, let me make you feel good.” 

He gets back to it and your head is thrown back against the pillows, you try, you really do, but his tongue flicks just so and your body bucks. He instead flips you over onto your stomach roughly manhandling you, one hand pulling your hips up, and he dives back in tongue first. He eats your ass with passionate fervour, whenever you buck too much he reminds you to behave with another hit to your ass cheek. His hand that wasn’t on your hip slides under, and he circles your clit with fast and clever fingers. 

The sharp slaps of pain and combined with him being tongue deep in your ass and rubbing your clit makes you cum embarrassingly fast yet again and harder still, legs trembling so much you almost fall on your face, with an ample gush onto his chin while sobbing his name into the pillow.  

When you stopped shaking he came up, another smack to your ass, his chest to your back as he leans down and praises right in your ear, “Oh good fucking girl.”

You start to babble out into the damp pillowcase, “Mi-Mickey, ‘lease, fuck me, need you-”

He hums, and you hear his belt open, finally getting his pants open, he inhales sharply in relief, the pressure easing from him opening his pants. The rest of his clothes are discarded, and he pauses. His hand on your sore ass, right on the spot he kept hitting over and over, his thumb traces down, spreading your lips, over your hole, and he sighs, “I have been dying to get inside this cunt.”

He lines up, he pushes his hips forward and sinks deep inside you, in one swift and smooth motion. The moan you share is like music, beautiful, melodic, passionate collaboration. His hand goes into your hair, he fucks you like that, face down ass up, he starts a quick pace initially, rough, needy and you love it. His body is covering yours as he breathes into your ear, “You feel incredible, oh my God-” His head tips back with a loud moan, he drives into you over and over, “-fucking stunning too, you are so gorgeous.” 

It has been entirely too long since you’ve been fucked in any position other than missionary. The sensation, his weight on your back, the sound of skin on skin, his breath in your ear, it’s fucking perfection. You rock back with him, meet him in the middle, you were giving back, showing just how desperately you want him in kind makes Mickey let out this sound, caught between a groan and something more possessive, not explicitly words, but it hits you low in your gut. 

He starts to slow down, takes a little more time, and you are moaning louder and louder, you are so worked up, so sensitive, you feel alive and electric. On one level it feels like you can feel every ridge and vein of him and on another like you can’t determine up from down, completely drunk on feeling. 

You completely lose track of how many times you get off that night, the pace will switch on a whim, from hard pounding and him calling you every name in the book to more easy and sensual, a writhing joint movement instead of an aggressive pounding. 

You ride him, grind one out on top of him while he cradles your breasts, thumbs passing over your nipples as he calls you a beautiful fucked out angel. 

He fucks you spooning, hand around you and between your thighs, strumming your clit with one hand, the other locked on your throat as he is fucking in and out.

The only thing that seems to make it stop is you literally sobbing for it to. Your cheeks are wet, you are babbling his name and the word stop, you have one leg over his shoulder and the other is pinned down near your knee by him. His stamina was impressive, he’d already cum once when you were riding him, had filled you up, but instead of that stopping it, he just flipped you over, still hard, and kept fucking going, his own cum providing even more lube.

That was a while ago, you could tell that he was near again, sweat down the side of his face, movements of his hips sloppy, panting your name over and over. You know you can’t again, you are too fried, too overstimulated and finally, just as the soreness is starting to teeter on the other side of being more unpleasant and painful than pleasurable he holds deep and cums again. 

You feel totally boneless, your arms feel heavy as you wrap them around him loosely, his head dips down and rests on your shoulder, you are just trying to catch your breath.

He gets his back faster than you. 

He is still inside of you when he comes back up, fingers push some of your hair aside as he looks down into your eyes. Your chest is still rising and falling rapidly as he confesses, for what must be the third time tonight, telling you, “I fucking care about you.”

A strong belief that is nothing but the truth hits, “You deserve way better than him, I wish I could have met you sooner so you could have had those years back of someone who actually gives a shit about you instead of that asshole.” 

You want this, want him, damned what that says about you or your morals, you don’t care as you tell him, “Fuck that selfish cunt, forget about him, let’s just make up for lost time.” 

He has every intention of doing just that.