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shanastoryteller · 4 months ago

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Thirteen Magpies

Dean’s pissed and trying to act like he isn’t. Sam’s head is throbbing and aching, there’s still blood crusted in the corner of his eyes, and he doesn’t have the energy to try and fix this right now.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to tell Dean. He’s thought of telling him ever since his brother pulled him from the fire, since he opened his eyes and realized he was living in his nightmare. But he can’t, the risk versus the reward is too great.

There’s no point, anyway. Jessica’s dead. Whatever freaky dreams he had, whatever he should have done to prevent it – none of it matters.

Letting his brother know that he’s a freak, that he might be something like the things they hunt, won’t get him anything. Dean thinks he’s mad now? If he knew Sam’s secret, mad wouldn’t begin to even cover it.

So he lets Dean make jokes he doesn’t mean, ignores the twitch in his jaw, and falls asleep fully clothed, boots still on right there on the covers. He really is that exhausted, but mostly it’s to gauge how angry his brother really is.

If he wakes up with his boots still on, no blanket thrown over him, he’ll know to tread lightly for the next few days.

“We got a live one.”

Dean flicks his eyes up from the map to Risa is leaning against the doorway. When she doesn’t say anything further, he raises an eyebrow. She knows better than to waste his time.

She shrugs. “He’s pretty freaked, it’s weird. He doesn’t seem to have any idea what’s going on, but he’s not infected from what we can tell.”

Well, she usually knows better than to waste his time.

“Probably better to gank him just in case,” he says, already focusing back on the map. There’s nothing around here but the infected, the military, and them. Soon there won’t even be that.

She hesitates. “He’s pretty young. And scared.”

So what? Aren’t they all? Hell, he’s thirty five. He’s still young, although he hasn’t felt it in years.

There’s a crash, and then Chuck is pushing Risa aside, eyes wide and panicked. Tension coils in Dean’s gut, even before Chuck says, “You need to see this.”

Fuck, fine. Whatever.

He’s so tired. Of this, of them, of everything. His only solace is that he won’t have to deal with it much longer.

He tucks a gun in the back of his waistband, giving them both a dark look as he stalks past. Does he really have to do everything around here? With his luck they’ve brought a crote right into camp who’s about to feral and start bleeding on people any second and they’re going to have to deal with a damn outbreak right in the middle of the base –

What the hell.

His chest is tight. He should be doing something, shooting him, giving orders, something, but just then all the air leaves his lungs.

“Dean!” Sam shouts, relief breaking out over his face.

This isn’t the Sam of a couple years ago, or even five years ago when he saw him last – really saw him, saw Sam. This is how Sam looked when he picked him up at Stanford, broad and tall but still gangly and young, the strength of his muscles long instead of bulging. There’s a sweetness to his face that hunting had carved away within the first year, or maybe that was visions or the demon or whatever else Dean failed to protect him from. Sam breaks away from the hands gripping his elbows to the shock of James, who probably thought he’d had a good grip on the kid, and hurries towards him, which is when he sees that Sam is in dirty socks and a pair of slides that look to be a couple sizes too small. What the hell? Dean should stop him. It’s not really Sam. It can’t be.

“Thank god, I woke up alone and I thought, uh, never mind. What the hell is going on…” He trails off as he gets closer, squinting. He looks Dean up and down then reaches out and pokes him in the corner of his eye by his temple.

Several people gasp. He can’t make himself look away, even as all the ways this is impossible, all the tricks it could be, run through his mind. It looks real. Is this a trick from Lucifer? But the base is warded against angels and demons and anything in between. No one but a human could walk in here. A witch? If there are any witches left, they’re hiding somewhere nowhere can find them. What would they gain by looking like his little brother at twenty two?

“You’re old,” Sam says, half delight and half incredulity. It makes him think of when he fell into that swamp when they were kids and Sam laughed himself sick after he helped him out. “Dude, did you piss off a witch or something? Were you trying to sleep with her? You really have to learn when to love them and when to leave them.” His gaze rises a little higher. “Got any grey hairs?”

He sounds like Sam.

“Okay, buddy, that’s enough,” James says, stepping forward gun first.

Sam reacts automatically, no longer hunched next to Dean, but straightening to his full height of nearly six and half feet and as he steps in front of him. He knocks Dean an extra inch behind him even though he doesn’t have a weapon or shoes or any clue what’s going on.

Something inside of him that he thought was long dead breaks and resets.

Yeah, that’s Sammy.

People always got it wrong. If this were someone’s idea of a trick, they would have had Sam looking to him for protection and asking for his help. Dean was notorious for being over protective, after all, always taking the hit, always making himself a target. That’s what people remembered.

Sam tolerated it at best.

He let Dean take the lead when he was comfortable. When he felt safe. He didn’t argue about Dean going in first or playing bait only because it wasn’t worth the effort, only because it meant that Sam was at his back and could cover him if something went wrong. He put up with Dean’s control freak tendencies until he didn’t, until he got stressed or pissed or scared, and then all bets were off and good fucking luck to anyone that got in his way.

But the Sam in front of him looks like shit, he clearly doesn’t know what’s going on, and he apparently woke up in apocalypse alone and somehow managed to get here. He’s probably a great combination of stressed, pissed, and scared right now and Dean may looks older, but he’s still him, the only familiar thing in this unfamiliar world.

Of course Sam sees a gun pointed in their direction and steps in front of him. Of course he doesn’t bother playing small like usually does, using ever scrap of intimidation he has even though he’s weaponless.

His brother at the end of his rope wouldn’t do anything else.

He’s not going to be an idiot about this, he’s still going to check, but every instinct he has is telling him that this is Sam.

How the fuck is it Sam?

He's drowning, he's suffocating, he wants to get his hands on Sam, wants to shake him, wants to bruise him just so he knows he's real.

He's practiced at not getting what he wants.

“Down,” he says to James, his voice coming out even and steady despite everything. He points the gun to the ground almost before Dean’s finished speaking. “Everyone, as you were. Sam, with me.”

“Who died and put you in charge?” Sam bitches, still glaring at James. He sticks close, looking around the camp curiously, eyes catching on all the symbols that he doesn’t recognize.

You did, he thinks, and almost laughs, except for the way it’s not funny at all. They head to his cabin and he pointedly ignores all the looks they’re getting. Little hard to bring a giant back without anyone noticing. He points the table. “Sit.”

“Do I look like a dog to you?” Sam asks, crossing his arms and not sitting. “Dean, what the hell is going on! What is this place? Where is everyone? What’s wrong with the people out there? Why are you old?”

“Just,” he lets out a harsh breath. For fuck’s sake. “Can you not argue with me and do what you’re told for one minute?”

Sam glares at him, but must see something in Dean’s face that sways him because he huffs and nods. Then he ruins it by literally setting his watch and saying, “One minute.”

He still doesn’t sit down.

Christ. He’d forgotten how much of a little shit Sam used to be. He should probably restrain him for this, just in case, probably shouldn’t have brought him back alone, it’s just.

He thinks it might actually be Sam. A Sam, anyway. He goes through salt, holy water, iron, and silver. It takes longer than a minute, but Sam seems intrigued enough to go with it. Some of these tests are brand new to him. In the end, all it gets him is an irritated eye roll. “If you’re really Sam,” he says, “tell me something only the real Sam would know.”

“If?” he repeats, rolling back around from intrigued to irritated. It’s the same little brother annoyed face that Dean knows so well, lips pursed and eyebrows pushed together.

He’s missed Sam so much.

“If it’s occurring to you that you should have been concerned about me being me, don’t worry about it,” he says tiredly. “You can test me too.”

Sam’s nose scrunches. “Don’t be stupid. You’re you. Just old and sort of bitchy.”

His lip almost twitches at that.

Sam looks around again, chewing on his bottom lip. “Dean, what year is it?”

He thinks a lot of things in his life would have been easier if he’d had a dumber brother. “What year is it for you?”

Sam glares. For a moment Dean thinks he’s going to refuse to answer until Dean tells him what’s going on, but he says, “2005. We just finished dealing with Bloody Mary.”

Fuck. That’s barely a month after Jessica.

It could still be a trap. He doesn’t believe it, hasn’t believed it from the moment he saw him. “Tell me something only Sam would know.”

He throws up his hands. “How would I know that? I’m clearly in the future, somehow, or crazy, and either way I don’t know what you or other people don’t know. Ask me something only I would know. You’d know better than me.”

Dean thinks that makes sense. Maybe. But he’s drawing a blank, trying to go back ten years in his memories to remember what secrets they’d shared then, and if any of them are still a secret now, and nothing’s coming to mind.

Sam softens, holding his hands open. “Come on, Dean, it’s me. I know that you’re you. Can’t you tell that I’m me?”

Yes. But Sam had always been better at that than he was. He'd known within three seconds that the skinwalker hadn’t been him, even though they’d only been back on the road together a few months at this point. Sam had never been able to explain to him how he’d clocked it so quickly, only that it had been obvious.

No one else knows him that well. Never have, never will.

It’s obvious to him that this is Sam. But it’s stupid to rely on his gut. It’s betrayed him before.

“Fuck,” he groans, running a hand over his face. This Sam hasn’t even faced a skinwalker yet. “Okay, fine, Jesus.”

Sam grins, smug in his victory in a way that makes Dean want to go over there and give him a noogie like they’re kids again. He wants to pretend for one second that not everything is misery and shit.

Christ, Sam basically is a kid right now. He’s only twenty two. Dean’s hit just then with the enormity of what Sam doesn’t know. They haven’t even met Missouri yet. He doesn’t know about Azazel, about the other psychic kids, about his powers, about what the demon did to him. He doesn’t know about angels, doesn’t know about Lucifer, or all the terrible fucked up things waiting for him.

“How did you get here?” he asks quietly, can feel the panic clawing at his throat. It’s too much. Sam is here. He was never supposed to see Sam again. His brother is long gone.

His brother is right in front of him.

Even if it’s not a trick, it is a trap. The day before he’s set to finally retrieve the Colt and kill Lucifer for good, a kid version of his brother appears? He doesn’t know the angle just yet, but he knows that there is one.

It was supposed to be over. He was going to finally be free.

But he can’t leave Sam in this piece of shit world alone. Not again.

“Beats me,” Sam shrugs. “I went to bed next to you and woke up in a different motel and met some rabid people and ran and ended up here and then I saw you. Nothing was weird or different before, or at least nothing I noticed. Will you tell me when I am now?”

“2015,” he says finally, watching Sam’s face, bracing for a freak out but also unsurprised when it doesn’t happen.

When the chips are down, Sam’s never been anything but steel.

“Huh,” he says finally, eyes downcast. He nods, more to himself than to Dean, than lifts his head to look him in the eye. “Where’s Dad?”

Will the thought of his father ever stop hurting? Probably not. Especially not now. He’s looking the baby brother he was supposed to save in the eye and he failed. He failed to save him and now he has to go and kill him.

If there were any mercy left on earth, Dean would have died the moment Sam said yes in Detroit.

He shakes his head.

Sam’s face crumples briefly before he rallies, swallowing down the grief that’s all too clear to Dean. “Yeah, probably should have figured that out as soon as I saw you barking orders. Okay. Where am I? Future me?”

Dean tries to control his face, to keep it impassive and empty, but by the way Sam jerks back like he’s been hit, he knows that he failed. He’s good at this normally. Really good, in fact. Maybe he still is, he’s just forgotten how well Sam used to be able to read him.

“Oh, man,” he says quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

He jerks his eyes to Sam’s, searching his expression. Does he know? Has the same thing that brought him here also told him something of what they were throwing him into?

“How did I – no, don’t tell me,” he decides. “Are you okay? I didn’t even like the idea of you hunting alone, never mind this.”

Sam thinks he’s dead.

It’s almost a relief.

“Fine,” he says.

Sam gives him a look. “Yeah, your whole family’s dead and the world's gone to shit, you’re clearly doing great. I don’t know why I even asked.”

Dean smiles. It’s been a long time. The muscles feel unused.

He still wants to touch him. But he can't. Once he starts, he doesn't think he'll be able to stop.

Sam stares at him for a long moment, eyebrows raised. “Are you crazy?”

“Probably, yeah,” he says, feeling the urge to laugh in his chest, another forgotten sensation. He’d forgotten how much Sam used to backtalk. The demon, Dad’s death, his deal, what Sam had gone through when he’d been gone, fucking Ruby. It had all worked to stomp out his brother’s attitude, to grind down Sam in a way that John Winchester had tried and fail to achieve for nineteen years.

In some ways it feels like he lost Sam long before he released Lilith. He’d feel guilty about it, but Sam probably feels the same way about him.

Felt the same way. Sam’s not feeling much of anything right now, with Lucifer walking around in his skin.

#look i'm being nice to dean!#or rubbing salt in the wound...#if i'm also being mean to sam that's almost like being nice to dean #dean is not being nearly unhinged enough here but give him time #he's in shock #supernatural

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spidercatweb · 4 months ago

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Feeling Better ★ Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: umm ok i fear there are a lot. Emetophobia warning (r does NOT get sick, i tried to describe it as little as possible, r is very emetophobic and freaks out), unintentional(?) s/h (scratching as a distraction, no blood is drawn), r has a panic attack esque thing going on?? idk she freaks out and shuts down (just like me fr), fem!bau!reader, hurt/comfort, a little bit of angst(?), happy ending with some fluff :). i think that's it? kind of established relationship with r and spencer idk...

Description: the team is at a bar, r is already anxious, it gets a million times worse when someone there throws up. Spencer helps r get away from the situation and calms her down.

Word Count: 2,227

A/n: reader is literally me, i wrote this for myself and i hope the other emetophobia girlies enjoy <3 if you can relate to this im so so sorry :( i know how it feels :(

The team is at a bar tonight, having just finished a case; it was a nice way to relax and socialize. The team - except for you and Spencer - all had alcoholic beverages. Spencer didn't really like the taste or feeling of alcohol, you had just never wanted to drink. You could have a fun time without it. You all sat around a big table in the back corner of the bar, enjoying each other's company. The whole team was intently listening to one of Garcia’s odd anecdotes. You sat beside Spencer, already feeling a little overwhelmed, but you were still having a good time. You smiled and laughed along with the rest of the team.

Suddenly, your hearing focused on another situation in the establishment. A heavily intoxicated man at the bar is telling the bartender how he “can handle another drink" and that he “won't get sick this time". You immediately tense up. Even the thought of the possibility of that happening makes your anxiety spike. You try to focus on the conversation at the table and calm yourself down.

Nothing is going to happen, you’ll be okay. You repeat this to yourself in your head. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, you cross your arms and begin tapping your fingers on your arms rhythmically.

Spencer notices the shift in your behavior, he notices that you're a bit zoned out, staring at the salt and pepper shakers on the table. He doesn't say anything, but he keeps it in mind to ask you later what was wrong, it was probably nothing anyway. You were probably just overwhelmed with all the noise.

Thirty minutes pass. You’ve mostly forgotten about what you overheard earlier, focusing instead on the insanity that was Morgan’s dating life, which he was explaining in way too much detail. You snicker and share a shocked look with Spencer when Morgan says something particularly explicit.

Slurred speech enters your earshot once again, the drunk man at the bar. He’s saying that he shouldn't have ordered that last drink. Disgusting. A frown appears on your face. You begin to dig your nails into your arms. Don’t think about it. Nothing’s going to happen. Focus on your friends. Nothing bad will happen with them.

It happens. The man at the bar gets sick. All over the bar. Tears well up in your eyes and you shut them tightly, your face flushes. You slowly drag your nails down your arms, digging them in deeper, leaving bright red marks. You need to leave. Now.

Spencer notices the scene unfolding at the bar, he knows how absolutely horrible it makes you feel, you've told him about it before. He looks at you and hovers a hand over your shoulder. You feel the warmth of him through the dizzying panic rushing through you.

"Hey, do you want to leave?" His voice is quiet and calm, only loud enough for you to hear, not disturbing the rest of the team. You nod and he begins to stand up.

You want to follow, but you feel like you can't move. You stand up weakly, forcing yourself to move. Still frantically scratching and digging your nails into your arms, because it feels like the only thing that will distract you from what's going on. You open your eyes and your vision blurs from tears. Spencer grabs your purse from the booth, making sure you won’t have to come back in for it if you don’t want to.

He leads you towards the door and away from the situation, hand hovering over the small of your back, "Come on, let's get outside".

The rest of the team looks concerned for you. Garcia stops telling her story for a moment, she knows what's going on.

"She just needs a bit of air. Don't think they'll be back though," she nods to what's happening at the bar, the team understands.

When you exit the building, you're a crying mess, basically hyperventilating, still clawing at yourself, not hard enough to draw blood, but you will if you continue.

"Y/n, I need you to stop scratching yourself, you're gonna be okay, we're not going back in there." He tries to make eye contact with you. You frantically shake your head, continuing what you're doing, taking in a stuttered gasp, holding back a sob.

"Can you talk?" Spencer knows the answer is probably no. You shake your head once again, confirming this. He looks around for a place to sit, "Okay... let's go sit down, there's a bench over there." He nods his head towards the bench, ghosting his hand over the small of your back. You start slowly towards it, he follows closely behind.

You sit, so does he. Your legs shake almost violently out of anxiety. The cold, fresh air does a little to calm your nerves, but the sounds keep replaying in your head. You try your best to busy your hands with something other than scratching yourself, you know you need to stop. You begin running your hands through your hair in a steady manner. You close your eyes and try to take slow, deep breaths. Spencer quietly observes, his presence is enough to remind you that everything will be okay. He waits patiently, not expecting you to say anything.

After taking a shaky breath, you whisper a barely audible "Sorry." You wipe your eyes with your sleeves then hold your hands together tightly. Digging your nails into the backs of them. You feel bad for pulling Spencer away from the rest of the team.

"It's okay, you have nothing to be sorry about. It's a very common phobia, actually. I read an article a while ago with evidence that 20% of people who go to therapy report emetophobia as a main reason for going." His fact is not very fun, but you can tell he's trying to calm you down in the best way he knows how. He glances at your tightly clasped hands, your knuckles white and shaky, nails digging into your skin once again.

He offers a soothing solution, "Do you want to hold my hands instead?" He puts his hands out for you to take. He wants to get you to stop hurting yourself, he knows you don’t mean to. It makes him sad to see you like this.

You unclasp your hands and reach out to his. His hands are shockingly cold, but the coolness in contrast to your warmth is calming. You squeeze his hands, a silent thank you. He squeezes yours back.

“Do you want me to talk? Or just stay quiet?” He asks, gently rubbing his thumbs across your knuckles.

“Talk?” You attempt to smile, but it’s more of a pout. It breaks Spencer’s heart to see you like this.

“Okay… um. Well… You didn’t drink tonight, right? You had iced tea?” You nod as he slowly leads up to a ramble. “And I wasn’t drinking either,” he reminds you, “when alcohol is consumed, the liver processes it into a highly reactive and toxic chemical called acetaldehyde. Which is actually used in plenty of herbicides and insecticides, of course, not sourced from the human body.” You can feel his hands itching to gesture along with his sentences. But they stay right there, holding yours.

“The liver then converts this acetaldehyde into acetate, which the body can remove by converting it into water and carbon dioxide. But when there’s too much, and the liver can’t process it quickly enough, the body gets rid of it, well… in a different way. That’s most likely what was happening to that guy in there.” You stare off into space at the reminder, idly nodding slowly to show you’re listening.

“So… he isn’t sick. It isn’t anything you can catch. You weren’t drinking tonight either. Nothing like that will happen to you tonight. Or me. We’re fine, we’re safe.” He reassures you calmly, lightly squeezing your hands. Your eyes flicker to his and you give him another nod.

By now, you’ve mostly stopped crying. You sniffle every few seconds, but it’s a major improvement from the sobs you were letting out just minutes ago. The deep breaths of cold air help to calm you as well. But your heart and head are still racing, you take in unbalanced, jagged breaths, still struggling to keep it fully together.

“Thanks, Spencer.” Your voice is slightly gravelly when you speak.

“No problem.” He smiles warmly, “Are you feeling a little better?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “the cold air is nice, and it’s quiet, and… you’re here. You’re always really helpful when I get like this.” You huff out a sad laugh, hiding your embarrassment about how Spencer always seems to be the one helping you out.

“I’m glad. I like it when you’re okay, so I’m glad I can help.” he blushes slightly. “And honestly, it was getting way too loud in there for me. I’m pretty sure you’d be the one bringing me out here if we stayed in any longer.” He half-jokes. You chuckle slightly. The last thing he wants is for you to feel bad about something you can’t control.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t want to go back in either?” You look down at your hands still in his.

“No, not- not really.” He shakes his head.

You both think in a moment of comfortable silence.

“Do you- Would you like me to drive you home?” He asks hesitantly.

“Do I trust you to drive my car?” You joke lightheartedly.

“Hey!” He laughs along with you.

“And how would you get home?” You ask, “Planning to stay over, Doctor?” You tease him with the nickname. You’re clearly feeling better.

“Well- I- I actually didn’t think about that, yeah. Um, I could...” He rushes to find another response. “Would you mind if I did?” he asks nervously.

“Spence, I wouldn’t mind at all. It would actually be nice, I’d rather not be alone tonight.” You smile, he mirrors your expression.

“Really?” He asks, “If you don’t want me to, it’s okay. I don’t want to be invading your space or anything.”

“Do you want to stay over?”

“I uh- yeah. Yes I do.” he nods.

“Okay, let’s go then.” You slip one of your hands out of his grasp as you get up from the bench, still holding his other. He gets up after you, politely handing you your purse. You thank him quietly as you take it.

You both walk to the parking lot of the bar, where your car is parked. After you unlock the car, like the gentleman he is, he opens the passenger door for you. The ride to your place is lovely, Spencer spits out all the random facts he can think of during the twenty minute drive. You rest your head lightly against the window, listening to him speak as you gaze at the outside world passing by. His soft, constant tone lulls you into a light sleep.

When he parks the car, he unbuckles his seatbelt and lightly taps your shoulder, welcoming you back with a smile. “We’re here, sorry to wake you up.” His hand rests on your shoulder for a moment.

You groan slightly as you get out of the car, “Why is being stressed out so exhausting?”

“Well, when you’re stressed, your body releases hormones like cortisol, which put you in fight-or-flight mode,” he starts. You walk beside him, sneakily grasping his hand with yours as you head towards the entrance of your apartment building. He pauses for a second, looking down at your hands. He smiles, then continues.

“And when you have high stress levels for a prolonged amount of time, it tires out your brain, leading to emotional exhaustion. So really, you might not be physically tired, just mentally.”

“Hmm. Well, I feel exhausted either way.” You huff out a laugh, leaning into his side.

He hums in agreement, opening the building’s door and letting you enter first.

When you finally get into your apartment, you realize an important detail. “Spencer, do you have clothes here? Or like, pajamas?” You can’t remember from the last time he was here, you knew he at least had a pair of pajamas, because you’d been wearing the shirt to sleep for the past week.

“Um- yeah, I think so? I think I left some here last time. Bottom drawer of your dresser, right?”

“Mhm,” You nod, “shower first, then bed?” You suggest.

“Okay.” He agrees easily.

***

You go in first, Spencer goes in after you. When he comes back into your room, he sees you wearing one of his shirts. “Is that…?” He points to you.

“Yes.” You grin happily.

“So that’s where it went.” He joins you in your bed.

You cuddle up to him, laying your head comfortably on his chest. He rests a hand on your back, tracing patterns lightly with his pointer finger.

“Are you feeling better than earlier?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm, a lot better.” You bring a hand up to lightly rest on his chest.

“That’s good.”

The beating of Spencer’s heart up against your ear, combined with the quiet sounds of his steady breathing lull you into a peaceful sleep. He stays awake longer than you do, listening to your slow breaths, making sure you’re completely asleep before he drifts off.

Thank you for reading!! <3

Any feedback is very much appreciated!

My requests are open!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #🪻📖

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im-a-wonderling · 4 months ago

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Under Pressure, Precious Things Can Break ~ George Weasley

Tonight, we are celebrating! I finally got some resolution to an ongoing Residence Life issue at my college, and even though I'm exhausted, I am so relieved, so here, have some George 😂 This is the fifth part of an ongoing fic called Please Don't Say You Love Me. Click here for part one if you haven't read it or need a refresher. Honestly, if you enjoyed part 4 of White Moves First, you'll probably enjoy this too!

Summary: Y/N's whole goal in life is to keep her head down and protect her brother. George Weasley's whole goal in life seems to be making sure Y/N can't hide.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: unhealthy family dynamics

Fred could never, ever say this to Molly Weasley, but Hogwarts’s pancakes were better than his mother’s. The house elves just wove the buttery flavors in a way that made Fred want to sing, and it was their skill that often inspired his own creativity. He pointed at George with his fork, a whole pancake dangling from the end of it. “I think if we amend the Hardening charm, instead of stone, we can make gobstoppers that never get smaller.” The pancake flopped off Fred’s fork and onto George’s plate, splattering syrup everywhere.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Fred carelessly ran his napkin over the syrup on the table before reclaiming his pancake.

It was then that he noticed George hadn’t torn his eyes away from a distant spot over Fred’s shoulder.

Narrowing his eyes, Fred glanced, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Turning back to his twin, Fred added: “We could also use a fur spell for some sort of taffy.”

“Mmhmm,” was the vague answer.

Fred skewered a sausage from George’s plate and took a large bite, waiting for a reaction. There was none. “And once we get to the shop,” he added, “you’re going to handle all the stocking while I get to talk to all the stunners that come in, yeah?”

George didn’t even blink. “Mmhmm.”

“George?”

There was a moment before George started, as if waking from a dream. “What?” he asked, his eyes finally focusing on Fred.

Fred dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter. Apparently, the pancakes had to wait. “Alright, what’s on your mind?”

The distracted redhead’s expression shifted from preoccupied to somber, which Fred did not see very often. “Y/N. She ran off last night, and she’s not here.”

“Is that it?” Fred folded his arms on top of the table. “Y/L/N never comes to meals.”

“No,” George replied, “she always comes to breakfast on the weekends. Half the castle sleeps in, so she can eat without getting bothered.”

Fred rested his chin on his arm, studying George’s face. It was odd to see George so worried about something so small. Perhaps Y/N didn’t feel like coming to breakfast. Maybe she was sleeping in. At the very least, the misanthropic girl missing a meal wasn’t cause for such concern. “Huh.”

“What?” George stared hard at his twin, seemingly preparing himself for any lecture on George’s life choices or disagreement born of disbelief or even some well-intended yet annoying advice.

Fred picked up his fork again, refocusing on his food. “Lee owes me two sickles.”

“Not helpful,” George huffed, looking back over at the Slytherin table, as if Y/N had snuck in without his notice in the last thirty seconds.

“Alright, so how’d you run her off?” Fred carelessly wiped his mouth with the clean corner of his napkin. “Will it require a box of chocolates or an Italian holiday?”

“I snogged her.”

Fred’s jaw went slack. “Right. An Italian holiday for the two of you together then.” When George didn’t say anything, Fred cocked his head, sensing his twin’s hesitation. “Was it bad?”

“No!” Aghast, George scowled at his brother. “It was good–”

“Only good?” Fred asked.

George’s scowl intensified. “We were both having a great time, but then Snape interrupted.”

“Snape.”

“Yeah, she was serving detention. I snuck out and waited for her, but Filch showed up, and I had to dodge.”

“And now she’s not at breakfast.”

“Yeah.” George sighed. “Which means I need to go find her.”

Fred took a sip of his water. “Not even going to try playing it cool?”

George shook his head. “Y/N doesn’t need cool, she needs involved.” The way he spoke gave Fred the impression that George knew much more and had thought much deeper about Y/N and what she needed than Fred anticipated.

The doors of the Great Hall opened, and George whipped his head around with the speed of a centaur to look at those who entered, only to deflate slightly when he saw it was a gaggle of Ravenclaw third-years.

Fred watched his twin's clear disappointment, an alarm whistle like that of a Sneakoscope going off in his head. This wasn’t just about a random snog with an uncertain ending. “Why does this matter so much?” Fred asked curiously.

George blinked, his fingers nervously twirling a fork. “I dunno,” he muttered.

“If you're gonna lie to me,” Fred scoffed, “you could try to be convincing.”

The fork froze, and George stared at the metal tines for a moment with so many emotions crossing his face, they couldn’t be deciphered. “Mate, she needs someone.”

Fred raised an eyebrow. A genuine answer, if also incorrect. “Y/F/N Y/L/N doesn't need anything.”

“Yes, she does.” George's words were soft and not at all defensive. They were matter-of-fact, spoken uncannily like Granger when she answered Flitwick’s questions in Charms. “She tries to hide it, but everyone needs someone to help hold them up.”

“Are you saying that she needs you?”

“I'm saying I might be the only one who cares enough to notice what she needs.” When George looked at Fred, there was a steadfast determination in his face that Fred had only seen a few times. And each of those times, George had plowed his way forward. Fred studied his twin, running his tongue over his teeth. Was George making a mistake? If he was, nobody would be able to talk him out of it until George himself realized it wasn’t right.

A few days ago, Fred had seen George and Y/N walking together through the grounds. He’d known George was unusually attached to the Slytherin, but to see them chatting with each other and how enthralled George was…Fred had to admit to a little twinge. This was his twin, it was the two of them who were supposed to gravitate around each other.

But now, looking back on the memory, Fred realized he couldn’t remember how Y/N had looked. He was sure he would’ve noticed if she seemed uncomfortable or malicious, so she must’ve meant well. Perhaps she was as taken with George as George was with her, especially if she’d let him kiss her.

Making his decision, Fred leaned forward. “You know…the ferret will probably know where she is.”

“Ugh.” George lowered his head onto the table with a loud thunk.

“It’s probably the fastest way to start, you know he always keeps an eye on her.”

George, head down on the table, didn’t move for a moment. “I hate it when you’re right,” he said as he finally straightened and got to his feet.

“Most do,” Fred said solemnly, finally returning his attention to his pancakes. “Just be glad you don’t owe me two sickles.”

Not replying, George swept out of the Great Hall in such a hurry, he didn’t even stop to give Umbridge a dark look as he passed her.

“Malfoy.”

Standing in the Central Hall by the fountain, the slimy git turned to George, mouth already curling. “Weaselbee.” He leaned against the fountain, folding his arms in a manner which his goons quickly copied. “Come to ask for some fashion tips?” His voice rang out enough to draw the attention of a few other cliques nearby. “Of course not,” Malfoy said before George could reply. “You can't afford it.”

George ignored the laughter from Malfoy's posse. “I’m looking for Y/N. Do you know where she is?”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed to slits, glaring at George. “What do you want with her?”

George grinned. “Fashion tips.”

“Well, I knew she was spending her time with charity cases,” Malfoy said in a stage-whisper, nudging Goyle beside him, “but even she has better things to do than help the riff raff.”

George took a breath through his nose, taking a moment to grasp onto his patience.

Malfoy, of course, didn’t allow even a moment, before squinting. “You’re the reason she’s acting up. She’s never had a detention before. Not until you got in the way.”

“As I recall,” George said, “you’re the one who reported her.” His words were easy, but he knew by Malfoy’s swallow that his expression was anything but.

The boy stuck his nose imperiously in the air. “She’s never broken the rules before.”

George knew his chuckle would rub Malfoy the wrong way, so he let it fly. “It’s no surprise that your loyalty lasts only as long as she does what you want.”

Malfoy’s cheeks reddened, and he straightened to step closer to George, his hand drifting to his robe pocket. “Your loyalty only started once she got in trouble!”

George remembered that night in the corridor after Y/N’s detention with Umbridge. She’d been the last person he’d expected to come out of that gaudy pink office, and she’d walked out with a simultaneous mix of confidence and reserve. A masterful mix, if George said so himself. Nearly everyone who’d landed detention with Umbridge landed themselves also in her perpetually adverse graces. But Y/N managed to appear chastened without fear, and Umbridge hadn’t given Y/N a second glance.

It was only after Umbridge’s office door had closed when Y/N showed a hint of pain, which had immediately evaporated the second George had revealed himself.

“If you left her alone,” Malfoy was saying, “she wouldn’t be in hot water with Snape.”

George’s nostrils flared. As if he hadn’t done all he could for Y/N’s wellbeing. But this was not the time. “Look, have you seen her or not?” He had much better things to be doing than arguing with Malfoy. Such as arguing with Y/N.

Malfoy scowled. “No. And you’ll–” George started walking away, and Malfoy shouted the words after him. “–stay away if you care what’s good for you!”

As breakfast winded down, the castle corridors filled with people. There was a massive snowstorm blowing in which prevented being out on the grounds or out at Hogsmeade, but nobody wanted to be cooped up in their dormitories.

That apparently included the Slytherin first-year boys, huddled in a group in the fourth floor corridor. The sandy stone walls were bathed in bright light from the white snow falling outside the windows. The group chatted and laughed, Y/N’s brother standing in the centre, enjoying his clear status among them.

“Clem?” George said, taking great care to stop a respectful distance away from the group. He was not a threat to them, and he wanted to prove it.

The group of Slytherin boys turned, their bodies immediately tense and hands drifting to their wand pockets. The deep distrust on their faces made George hesitate. What had they experienced in their short time in this castle that could make them so paranoid?

He held up his hands to show he wasn’t holding his wand. “I just want to talk.”

None of the Slytherins budged from their alert positions.

“It’s about your sister.”

Since Clem was at the back of the group, George was the only one who could see the split second of worry that spread across the young boy’s face. Just like Y/N, however, his face went instantly blank, concealing his thoughts. “It’s alright guys. I’ll be right back.”

Following George around the corner, Clem’s mask lifted to reveal the worry once more. “What is it?”

“Have you seen Y/N? Last night, she and I…” George blinked, suddenly questioning the idea of telling an eleven-year-old boy that he snogged his older sister. “We were talking, and we got interrupted, and now I can’t find her anywhere.” There, that wasn’t suspicious.

Clem’s boyish face tightened. “What did you say to her?”

George swallowed, debating which part of the previous night’s conversation could be shared. “We talked about knights and princesses.” As soon as the words left his mouth, George felt his cheeks heat up. “We did!” he hurried to say, not that that was convincing. “We debated whether or not she was more like a knight or a princess.”

Clem’s only response was to lift an eyebrow, looking astonishingly like Professor McGongagall for having so little in common with the head of Gryffindor house.

“We really did,” George said weakly before shaking his head slightly. “Look, can you just tell me where she is?”

“I don’t know where she is,” Clem replied. “She wasn’t at breakfast.”

Disappointed at the lack of new information, George nodded and turned to go.

“Whatever you did,” Clem said, making George turn around again, “you better not have hurt her.” The boy’s face turned menacing. “She really likes you.”

The first-year’s intention was certainly not to be encouraging, but George felt his spirits lift in spite of the hostility. “She said that?”

Clem shook his head. “She didn’t say anything. That’s how I know.” And with that, he left in the direction of his friends.

George grinned stupidly at the floor. He knew Y/N would never let him close enough to snog her, much less snog him back if she didn’t like him. Still, it was nice to know.

So nice that George practically skipped to the Gryffindor Common Room, where he’d seen Harry studying earlier. Harry’d taken to staying where Umbridge didn’t often go, meaning the Room of Requirement and Gryffindor territory.

When George entered the sea of students all fighting for armchairs and couches, he spotted Harry in the corner by the fire and maneuvered towards him. “Harry, I need to use the map.”

Harry, to his credit, didn’t question George. He just led George into his dormitory and pulled the map from his chest to lay it on his bed. Soon, George was poring over the moving parts of the castle.

“Who are we looking for?” Harry asked, joining George.

“Y/L/N.”

George felt Harry tense beside him. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately,” was the Chosen One’s chosen reply. Eyes not leaving the map, George hummed affirmatively. “Are you sure she’s trustworthy?”

“Yes.” George lifted his finger to pass it over the mass of names displayed in the Great Hall, even though he knew Y/N wasn’t there. Harry’s shoes shuffled on the floor, his weight shifting. “Spit it out,” George said, his finger now tracking down the dungeons.

“How do you know she’s trustworthy?”

Ahh. So that’s what this was about.

George glanced at Harry, taking in the stubborn jut of the boy’s chin. “Would you ask me that if she were in Hufflepuff?”

Harry didn’t reply.

“Y’know,” George said, his thoughtful tone masking his frustration, “Merlin was a Slytherin. So is Tonks’s mum.”

“And so’s Voldemort, Malfoy, Bellatrix, and Snape, and–”

“I know.” George blinked at Harry, uncertain how to explain his attachment to this particular Slytherin and his conviction that she was of upright character. Finally, he just shrugged. “She’s different, Harry.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Harry grumbled, bending over the map once more.

“I never know what I’m doing,” George quipped, though it sounded flat to his own ears. Truthfully, with Y/N, he knew exactly what he was doing. Well, trying to do.

“There!” Harry pointed where, sure enough, her name was written beside a pair of footprints George thought were more lovely than any of the others he’d been looking at.

George sighed, relieved. “The owlery.” He had no idea what she was doing there, but at least now he knew where he could find answers.

Standing in the owlery, staring out at the worsening storm, I waited. It was too cold for anyone to be loitering in the tower and with the snowstorm coming, no one in their right mind would send their owl out with a letter.

But I knew a letter was coming for me. Y/L/Ns were never deterred by anything, certainly not weather.

No letter had arrived, but I could almost feel the brush of feathers and harsh peck of a beak from Eris, the family owl. I could picture the Y/L/N family crest pressed into green wax, sealing the crisp grey envelope. Worse still, I could almost certainly forge an identical letter with no help.

Y/L/Ns didn’t break the rules and certainly didn’t associate with Gryffindors. It was the job of daughters to take care of sons. If I really wanted to be a burden, I’d better leave Clem out of it.

The sentiments were familiar, but just because one knew a curse and its caster didn’t mean the curse didn’t hurt.

The snow started coming down harder and harder, and still I stood, watching the snowstorm for the black, elegant owl. The longer the letter took to arrive, the more my mind raced.

Maybe Snape hadn’t mentioned my first detention with Umbridge; he loathed her nearly as much as the students did. Maybe he told them to revoke my Hogsmeade privileges. Maybe he’d mentioned both detentions without explaining why I’d gotten them. Would that be bad? My parents wouldn’t have context, and it was the context that was both paramount and damning.

Absentmindedly, I lifted my cold fingers to my lips, assuredly shivering from the cold and not the memories from last night.

I definitely hadn’t expected kissing George to be anything like what it had been.

I shook my head. Wouldn’t have expected. It wasn’t like I’d been sitting around like a silly Hufflepuff, daydreaming about what it would feel like to have George kiss me.

…was it possible Snape told my parents about the kiss?

No, not at all. To have told my parents about the kiss, he had to have seen it. And if he’d seen it, he would’ve seen George. And if he’d seen George, there is no way George would’ve made it out of the dungeon without detention.

At least that piece of information was safe. My eyes caught on a speck, pulling me through my thoughts.

Was that…

I squinted at the horizon. Were my eyes playing tricks on me?

My heart sank as the dark speck in the furiously falling snow grew large enough for me to make out the flapping wings.

Eris.

She covered the last furlong of her journey too quickly for me to regain my composure. Settling on the glassless window frame, she held out her claw, the grey envelope dangling from it as if the words inside did not burden her in the least.

With shaking hands, I accepted the letter. Eris, job done, flew off, selecting one of the topmost cubbies to rest.

There was no writing on the outside of the envelope. My parents conducted enough secret business to keep the exterior of their correspondence anonymous and charm the envelope to burst into flames if someone other than the intended recipient opened it.

Popping the wax seal open, I pulled out the letter to reveal the elegant script of my mother. Y/L/Ns believed that delicate handwriting was the first sign of a true lady.

I looked away from the page, trying to control my breathing. I’d accepted their criticism before, how could this time be much different? Despite my efforts, my heart was in my mouth as I finally started reading.

Scathing. The words were like knives, flaying me open.

They’d never gone this far before.

I struggled to draw breath from the thin air as I reread the final line.

It is with every hope for your refined improvement, we have decided–

I crumpled the parchment, hurling it at the wall. The light parchment only made it two feet in the air before falling to the stone floor, removing the opportunity for satisfaction. Just another effort of mine that fell short.

I looked up at the ceiling, refusing to cry. Tears only made everything worse. Y/L/Ns didn’t cry.

Resting my hand against the freezing stone of the window frame, I closed my eyes, allowing the cold breeze to slowly numb my face. Numbness was better than feelings.

Y/L/Ns never let anything get to them.

Leaning forward to expose more and more of my body to the wind, I almost couldn’t feel the tears slipping down my cheeks. Furiously, I wiped them away, but soon the flow was too great to keep up with.

I’d known better, I’d been better for almost my entire time at Hogwarts. I’d stayed away from everyone to protect myself, yes, but also to protect others, especially Clem. I was the only one who should’ve had to bear the force of our parents’ disapproval.

I knew how to stay out of trouble, how to ensure my parents weren’t unnecessarily reminded of my existence, and I’d acted in spite of it.

I’d done this to myself. It was all my own fault.

I slammed a fist into the stone frame, the pressure in my chest growing with the effort of keeping down my sobs.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs made me jolt. Holding a hand over my mouth, I pressed myself into the wall, trying to make myself small enough that if the individual walking up the steps were looking for an owl all the way at the top of the Owlery, they wouldn’t see me. Even so, I turned to face the storm, to keep my surely blotchy face away from any observer, even the owls.

The footsteps grew louder and louder, my heart pounding. Whoever it was, they’d passed so many of the little alcoves housing the school owls, they must’ve been looking for a specific one.

It doesn’t take long to post a letter, I told myself. It doesn’t take–

“Imagine,” said a familiar voice, “that I’ve been looking for a friend long enough to realise I haven’t found them because they’re avoiding me, and then I have the good luck to stumble upon their hiding place.”

No.

Not now.

I turned my face farther away, pushing the side of my face into stone. “Bugger off.” There was a slight wobble in my words, and I could only hope the howling wind outside the tower covered it.

“Well now, that’s not very nice. Can’t a good-looking bloke just enquire how a bonnie’s doing?” George asked good naturedly.

“Not if–” My words were croaky as they left my thick throat. I cleared it. “Not if you’re stupid enough to be the bloke and I’m unlucky enough to be the bonnie.”

Silence fell, and somehow the silence was worse than the sound of his voice in my current defenseless moment. His voice, useless as it was against the chill of my skin, was almost a balm against the chill emanating from my chest.

Y/L/Ns didn’t need friends.

“Don’t slip on your way out,” I snapped. “I’d hate to step in blood on the stairs.”

I expected to hear the sound of footsteps on the owlery stairs, but George was never one to do the expected. “Y/N,” he said carefully. “Why are you crying?”

Bloody hell. Bloody, minging, blooming, manky hell.

I stared harder at the snowy mountains as they grew blurrier. “Not today, Wealsey.”

It was silent for a moment. “If you really wanted me to leave, you shouldn’t have used my last name. It's another sign that something’s wrong.”

“Please go away,” I managed to say. I should’ve known that the appearance of manners would only make George more determined.

The next step was softer, unhurried in the way that George always was. The knowledge that he was coming closer made me curl myself tighter towards the window. “What’s wrong?” he asked slowly and clearly. As if articulation was the reason he hadn’t gotten an answer.

“Nothing.” Blinking only loosed another tear.

“I never heard of anyone crying over nothing.”

“Please,” I whispered again, not sure what I was asking for, but knowing I couldn’t bear for him to stand there and know that I was crying.

“Don’t leave me hanging.” How could he sound so gentle and so fearful at the same time? It tugged painfully at the pressure in my chest. “Talk to me about what’s going on.”

I was losing the will to resist. “Just leave me alone,” I begged as a last ditch effort.

“Tell me it isn’t about last night, tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut at the alarm in his tone. He was too good, too good for this school and too good for this situation and too good for me. He really was a knight in shining armor, but I was not the princess for him. “It’s not you.”

I’d expected some relief or further pressing, but George didn’t say anything. The only sounds in the tower was the howling of the wind outside and the rustling and shifting of hundreds of owls. He couldn’t have left, I would’ve heard him.

In my mind, I tried to picture the way George looked behind me. The only thing I could easily see was the concern I’d seen in his face many a time. Did he have his hands in his pockets the way he tended to when he shuffled along beside me in the hall? Or were they clenched at his sides in frustration?

The curiosity was too much. I peeked.

George’s hands weren’t in his pockets; they were holding a familiar sheet of parchment. He stared down in shock at it, and my fear skyrocketed.

I lunged, snatching the letter from him. “Don’t!”

Many of the sleeping owls started, some awakening from sleep to settle their attentive eyes on us. Disgruntled hoots filled the air, echoing throughout the tower. I hadn’t meant to disturb the dignified creatures, but remorse couldn’t puncture my panic.

George’s deep horror was a terrible thing to see. “That was from your parents?”

“No.” I stuffed the letter into the pocket of my trousers. “No, a-and it’s none of your business!”

“Why would they write all that?” George's brown eyes—solemn as the owls’—tore into me even deeper than the letter crumpled in my fist. “That's messed up, Y/N.”

I swiped at my cheeks, trying to hide the evidence of my hurt. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Y/N, I’ve gotten detention more times than I can count, my parents have never written a letter like that. Even their Howlers aren’t that awful.”

As if my parents would ever do anything as undignified as a Howler. Besides, they did just fine without the added volume.

George started towards me, and I shrunk away from him. He stopped. “Y/N…they’re wrong. You’re not a burden.”

My breathing hitched. “George–”

“You’re not.”

“It’s none of your business,” I replied, but my tone was anything but convincing. Also unconvincing was the painful rate at which my breathing was reaching.

“How could they say all that to you just for getting detention?” George asked with a clear mix of sadness and disgust.

I needed to regain control of the situation, to get the upper hand before this spiraled further. “You're overreacting.”

Anger joined Geroge’s mix. “Is that what they've told you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I told him fiercely. “It’s fine.”

“It isn’t!” George shook his head angrily. “They don’t know you, they don’t know that all that you’ve done, you’ve done to protect those you care about. First Clem…” George trailed off. “Then me.” A strange look was growing on his face, a look which threatened the conclusions he was arriving at.

I glared. “Stop talk–”

“You protected me from injustice,” he smoothly interrupted, “but Clem snuck that broomstick into the castle, that detention was rightfully his.”

“I mean it, George!” I warned, but George didn’t heed me.

“Now why would you try so desperately to protect him from the school? Well, you wouldn’t.”

“Stop it!”

“You were protecting him,” George pointed at the parchment still in my hand, “from that.”

“You…” It was getting harder to catch my breath. “You don’t understand.”

A spark flamed in George’s eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong.”

George cracked a small smile and made a disappointed sound. “I should’ve seen that coming.” He stepped closer. “See, I don’t believe you.”

“I will end you,” I threatened, backing away but George didn’t stop this time. “You hear me? If you keep pushing me and talking to me and smiling at me and going to detention with me and kissing me and trying to save me–” My back hit the stone grid of the window, and a surprised gasp left my lips. I quickly held out my hand to keep him at bay. “If you come any closer, I…I’ll break you!”

George stepped close enough for my hand to rest on his chest. The contact made him stop, making me think he’d finally heeded my warning, until he lifted his hand to cover mine. “I know your parents made you believe that. But I don’t.”

I yanked my hand away from him like I’d been burned, even though it was my heart that stung, not my skin. I was trapped. Either I stepped further away and risked sending myself through the glassless window…or I stepped closer to George. “Walk away, George, I mean it!”

“No.”

“I’ll hex you!”

“Then hex me.” George’s hands cupped my shoulders, pulling me in.

I fought it, pushing against his chest, trying to get him to let me go, but his grip only grew more insistent. “Don’t,” I moaned, turning my face away so he couldn’t see the fresh tears falling.

But George never was good at following directions.

His arms came around me, holding me tightly.

And I shattered.

An inhuman sound spilled from my mouth as my tears fell with foolhardy abandon. My knees gave out, George being the only thing holding me up. He slowly lowered us to the Owlery floor, never once loosening the grip that kept me upright.

“How do you do it?” I wept, thinking of how easily George had accepted Snape’s bullying and the judgment from his housemates. “How do you not care?”

George pressed a quick kiss to my temple, his arms holding me tighter. “They’re your parents. I don’t think it’s possible for you not to care.” I pressed my face into his chest, trying to muffle the horrid sounds I was making, and he lightly ran his hand over my hair. “They don’t know the real you." I sobbed louder. “I’m not going anywhere,” George whispered into my temple. “I told you, you won’t break me.”

“You broke me,” I moaned, my nose rubbing against the soft knit of his sweater.

George pressed his cheek to my head. “I’m here,” he said. “It’s alright.”

The sky was fully dark now, and the chill had crept its long fingers around my ears and toes, but still I clung to George like a raft in a storm.

And he let me, even though my cries had subsided.

“I understand now,” he said softly when we’d been silent for what felt like hours.

I’d never wanted him to. Even now as he held me, the knowledge that he had seen me cry made my stomach twist unpleasantly. But I was too tired to fight it now, and it felt too good to be this close to him.

“You need to warn Clem.” I didn’t immediately protest, but George seemed to know how much I hated the idea. “I know, it flies in the face of all you’ve done to protect him, but he needs to know. You might not be able to intercept the next letter.”

I sat up. “How do you know I’ve been intercepting his letters?”

George’s gaze was tired as his deft fingers tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Because I know you, Y/N. I’ve seen you in protective mode.”

“Clem is still good.” I wiped my nose on my sleeve. “They will ruin him.”

“He loves you, Y/N, he loves you so much. He wouldn’t want you to keep this from him.” His hand left my ear to cup my cheek. “It’s not fair for you to shoulder this alone.” Not fair, he shouldn’t have been arguing this with me when he kept brushing his thumb across my cheekbone, like he knew his touch would make me more obliging.

I gathered enough willpower to shake my head, which sadly made George drop his hand. “He’s the son they always wanted,” I nevertheless replied. “He will head up the family legacy one day, and the less damaged he is when he does, the better for everyone.”

“So what are you going to tell him about Christmas?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d gotten to that point of the letter. “I’ll tell them they went to the Mediterranean, they have a villa there.”

“He’s eleven, not stupid.”

“I’d rather he suspect something than know that his parents forbade him and his sister from coming home for Christmas.”

George let out a long sigh. “How am I supposed to go home for the break if I know that you’re here by yourself?”

I pressed myself into him again, unwilling to admit how much the idea of him leaving affected me.

George’s fingers lightly ran through my hair. “Well,” he mused, “you’ll just have to come home with me.”

I pushed away from George and onto my feet so quickly, my head spun. “What?”

Looking marvelously unruffled from his position on the floor, George held my gaze. “If you come with me, I won’t have to spend all day worrying about you because I’ll be able to make sure you’re alright.”

“I could never leave Clem alone.”

George rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t know Clem’s included in that invitation.”

Astonishing, how quickly all my pain and embarrassment could transform into incredulity. “George, I’ve never even had a conversation with your twin, and you want me and my brother to spend Christmas with your family?”

He didn’t dissolve into explanations or excuses. He simply looked up at me and said: “Yes.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Yes.”

“Your family will be shocked.”

“Yes.”

“And Christmas break is almost two weeks long!”

“Yes.”

“Stop saying yes!”

George rose to his feet. “Look, you don’t want Clem to know what your parents have said, right? Simply telling him your parents are going on holiday isn’t going to be enough. But if they’re going on holiday and the two of you have an invitation elsewhere, he won’t think about it too much.”

“He’s eleven, not stupid,” I parroted.

“Trust me. As someone who once was an eleven-year-old boy, he’ll be wholly focused on playing Quidditch scrimmages and eating as much food as his stomach can hold.”

I hated to admit it, but that sounded like a better Christmas break than Clem had ever had. “But won’t your parents be–”

“My parents,” George wrapped his arms around my lower back, drawing me into his embrace again, “would love to have you home, our house has always been open to friends.”

I blinked, suddenly full of nerves of a different kind. “Friends?”

Unfortunately, George’s perception did not suffer a lapse. He grinned. “That can be a conversation for later.”

Covering my brilliantly warm cheeks with my freezing hands, I tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let me. “Do you trust me?” he whispered.

“Regrettably.”

George, the wonder that he was, tilted his head back to let out a laugh. “I swear, if you and Clem come with me for Christmas, the two of you will be safe. And who knows?” He looked down at me with twinkling eyes. “You might even have fun.”

I knew I should say no. Forget their displeasure over Snape’s letter, if my parents found out I was even entertaining spending the holidays with the Weasleys, let alone that I’d gone and brought Clem? The catastrophic repercussions for both the Weasleys and myself could not be understated.

But with George’s arms around me once again, anchoring me, keeping me safe, I looked up in his eyes and gave him my answer.

“Okay.”

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

Please Don't Say You Love Me tag list:

@onelemonoat @goldfishinpainttubes @screaming-les-bean @catpjimin

#harry potter #hp #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #george #george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x y/n #hogwarts #slytherin!reader #slytherin x gryffindor #please don't say you love me

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daylighted · 4 months ago

Note

I just had an adorable idea of dean being half asleep and taking his sweet time with coffee ( his four hours of sleep didn't go as well he wanted them to ) so he's all stiff but he's not gonna say a word and finish his coffee and get to work bcz of course but then baby walks in all squinty eyed and not quite awake either and wordlessly curls up under his arm and slowly it eases the tension in his body and maybe he falls asleep for another hour or so ( lore totally took pictures )

have to write this instantly i’m afraid.

dean didn't sleep well. it wasn't a new development, but one that seemed to instead worsen with time. the addition of you into his life didn't help, either, but he'd never blame you for it. he was just a worrier. he worried, and he stressed, and all of that transcended into his dreams, morphing them into nightmares, which all added up to him being an insomniac.

you were the opposite. you slept heavily and deeply, refusing to let him go in the mornings like innately, you knew he hadn't had enough, either. it was the same that morning, too: eyebags deep under his eyes, head aching from the exhaustion still heavy on his bones.

the smell of bitter coffee fills his senses, his palm pressed against the edge of the countertop to hold himself up. the drip of the coffee into the pot was agonizingly slow, a sigh loosing from his chest.

he doesn't even notice your approach. one second, he's trying not to doze standing up, and the next, you've nuzzled your way underneath his arm, small enough to fit in the crevice with ease. he peeks an eye open, watching as your arms encircle around his waist and your sleepy eyes fall closed again.

"nope," dean grumbles, his voice rough and gravelly with the weight of his tiredness, "no curlin' back up. got shit to do."

but you don't let go, and neither does he, so that's that. he maneuvers around you once his coffee finishes, taking a sip of the scalding liquid in the mug. your arms fall off of him and instead, your fingers curl into his free hand's in a loose grip as he leads you toward the couch. on the coffee table, still, is his spread of abandoned research.

he sets the mug down, flopping down into his spot on the plush, his lips thinning when you do not, in fact, catch the memo that your adorable sleepiness was not doing him any favors when it came to trying to get moving.

instead, you've curled your way up and under his arm again, this time tucked into his side like you were a part of him. dean guessed, in a way, you kind of were. still, all he manages to do is sigh in reaction and tug you that much closer.

on his leg is a research book, balanced on his knee and carefully placed to not disturb your slumber. he could feel every slow, deep breath against his chest, your arm resting lazily over his stomach. dean tries to push it all to the back of his mind. i've got shit to do plays like a looping mantra in his head, the voice growing quieter the more he finds himself focusing in on your sleep.

he'd never been lulled to sleep like this. he didn't know if it was some indication of just how tired he was, or if you were just something special, though dean figured it was probably both.

it's with great reluctance that he shoves the book back onto the table. even more resistance and despair that he wraps his own arms around you and yanks you farther into him, your head on his chest and your leg half strewn across his lap.

he's out like a light. the coffee is abandoned to cool on the coffee table, his phone idle next to it.

dean finds the pictures later, because they're hard to miss, and even easier to know who took them. thirty or so of him knocked out with you draped across him, and ten more with lore's grinning face in them, like an artist tagging her work.

not that he minded. dean just picked his favorite and made it his phone wallpaper and pretended that was a totally normal and platonic thing to do.

#to ☆ mahi #i <3 mahi #baby!reader #dean winchester x baby!reader #dean winchester x journal!reader #lore & baby<3

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inadaydream99 · 4 months ago

Text

The Office Dynamics

A/N - I had so much fun writing these! Each of these are inspired by characters and scenes from The Office

Disclaimer: this does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only!

Chan

The Late-Night Desk Conversations

While chan has to stay late every night to keep on top of his copious amounts of work, you choose to stay. Not because you’re so dedicated to your role, but because it’s an excuse to hang out with him. And so, it’s become part of your daily routine to be the only two left at work after hours.

As expected, it’s just the two of you once again, the glow of your computer screens and the sound of the rain tapping against the office windows. You break the steady silence with a yawn, stretching dramatically, which makes Chan glance your way. “Need a bedtime story?”

You smirk. “What, like The Tragic Life of an Overworked Employee?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re hilarious. Remind me why I put up with you?”

You grin. “Because if I weren’t here, you’d have no one to make fun of your disastrous caffeine addiction.”

It’s moments like this that make your heart flutter. It’s just so quiet, easy, and comfortable.

There are times when you can tell he wants to go, but he always lingers by your desk a little longer, as though he’s waiting for something… maybe he’s hoping you’ll ask him to stay… like right now. There he is, loitering. And you weigh the thought for a second as it crosses your mind.

Your fingers hover over your keyboard, pretending to still be focused on your work. But the words aren’t making sense anymore, and neither is the way your heart beats just a little faster when Chan doesn’t immediately grab his things to leave.

Instead, he stretches again, arms reaching over his head, his sweater riding up just slightly before he lets out a soft sigh. “Alright,” he says, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at you, eyes flickering with something teasing yet unreadable. “Tell me, how much more suffering do we have left?”

You glance at the document in front of you, but really, you’re stalling. “Depends,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Are we talking about tonight’s workload or the existential kind?”

Chan chuckles, shaking his head. “Both, obviously.”

You exhale dramatically, tapping your pen against your desk. “Well, tonight’s suffering is about… thirty more minutes if we really focus.” You pause, then add, “Existential suffering? Probably lifelong.”

He lets out a low laugh, and the sound does something dangerous to you.

“See, this is why I like being around you,” he muses. “You make my impending burnout entertaining.”

You smirk. “Happy to help.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, broken only by the rain outside and the occasional clatter of keys. Chan, now sat back in his chair and not making any real move to leave, spins his pen between his fingers before finally speaking again.

“You know,” he starts, quieter this time, “you don’t actually have to stay late every night.”

You blink at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone.

“Says the guy who practically has his name engraved on this desk?” you counter, trying to keep it light.

He smiles, but there’s something softer in it now. “I mean it. You could go home. Get some sleep. Not stress over this job like you do. I’d still be here.”

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? You could go home. You could leave him to his late-night habits, his empty office, his half-drunk cups of coffee and his relentless need to be the last one standing. But you don’t. You never do.

Maybe he knows that. Maybe that’s why he stays by your desk longer than he needs to.

You could say something. Ask him why he always waits until you’re done before packing up. Ask him why he notices your yawns, your stretches, the way your fingers slow on the keyboard when you start getting tired. Ask him why he lingers.

But instead, you just smile.

“Yeah,” you say, looking back at your screen. “I know.”

Minho

The Post-It Note Pranks

Your daily routine with Minho consists of endless banter, stolen glances, and… a Post-it note war. A little unusual, yes, but it’s been happening for so long that neither of you can remember how it started… only that you’re both incredibly competitive and stubborn.

Today’s round begins when you stick a note to his monitor: Try to look less busy today.

It doesn’t take him long to retaliate with one on your keyboard: Try to do actual work today.

And so the war escalates. You retaliate with a note on his stapler: I licked this.

So Minho counters with one on your favourite coffee mug: I spit in this. (He didn’t. Probably. Hopefully.)

The next morning you arrive to find a hundred yellow notes covering your desk, each reading: I win.

You huff, turning to the culprit. “Minho-”

But then, from the corner of your eye, you spot a pink one hidden under your keyboard. Sheepishly picking it up, you read: By the way, you look really pretty when you’re annoyed.

Well, that made your heart skip an unexpected beat.

You continue to stare at the note, your heart pounding a little too fast for your liking. Then your eyes flitter to find Minho, still watching you, with his chin propped on his hand and that infuriatingly smug smirk on his lips. He quirks a brow, waiting for your reaction.

Feeling irritation at his clear attempt to fluster you into submission, you grasp a pen and scribble a reply before closing off the few steps to his desk and sticking the note right onto his forehead.

He blinks up at you, momentarily stunned, before peeling it off to read: That’s cheating.

But he simply chuckles, the sound low and amused, and you’re too aware of how close you’re standing. His eyes flick from the note back to you, and for a second, the office noise—keyboards clicking, printers whirring, distant voices—fades into the background.

Then he leans forward slightly, just enough to make your breath hitch, and murmurs, “You’re just mad because you liked it.”

You scoff, crossing your arms even as heat creeps up your neck. “In your dreams.”

He hums, twirling the note between his fingers. “Maybe.”

Before you can fire back, he casually sticks another Post-it onto your wrist. You glance down, expecting another teasing jab.

Instead, it’s just a simple message: Lunch?

You hesitate for only a second before rolling your eyes and scribbling your response. When you slap the note onto his desk, he barely has time to grab it before you’re already walking away.

He flips it over and grins.

Try to keep up.

Changbin

The “Fake Dating” Bet

You and Changbin are always fake-flirting in the office. It started as a joke - dramatic declarations of love, exaggerated winks, calling each other “babe” just to get reactions.

But then your pesky colleague Jisung bets that neither of you can keep it up for a full week without actually catching feelings.

You and Changbin just share a smug side glance. Challenge accepted.

Day one and you’re already getting alarmingly used to it: Changbin leans against your desk, smirking. “Morning, darling. Did you miss me?”

You roll your eyes. “Tragically, yes. My heart aches without you.”

The problem? You do miss him. You do feel your heart race when he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. And by day two, when he casually pulls you into a side hug and murmurs, “You know… we’re really good at this,” you wonder - what if we weren’t faking?

Day Three: You’re officially losing it.

Changbin’s hand finds the small of your back as he guides you through the office, and instead of rolling your eyes or making a joke, you nearly lean into it. When he calls you babe in that lazy, affectionate tone, your stomach does an embarrassing summersault.

Jisung is watching. He’s always watching, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he observes every lingering glance, every subtle touch. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to.

“You’re getting soft,” you murmur to Changbin when you’re alone in the break room. You mean it as a tease, but it comes out quieter, more uncertain than you intended.

Changbin raises a brow, stepping closer. “Am I?”

He’s so close. The air between you crackles with something that wasn’t there before—except, maybe it was, and you were just too busy pretending to notice. Although, you don’t step away. And neither does he.

Day Four: You’re so screwed.

You tell yourself you’re overthinking it. That this is just the nature of the bet. That Changbin isn’t actually looking at you differently, and your heart isn’t racing faster than usual when he throws an arm over your shoulders and keeps it there, fingers idly tracing patterns.

Then, after a long day, you find yourself walking out together. It’s dark, the city buzzing with life, and Changbin hesitates before speaking.

“You know this is the last day, right?” His voice is softer than usual, like he’s testing the weight of the words.

You nod. You’ve been thinking about it all day. Tomorrow, the bet is over. And then what?

Before you’re able to spiral, Changbin reaches for your hand. Not dramatically, not for show—just a gentle brush of his fingers against yours, hesitant but hopeful.

“We don’t have to stop,” he murmurs.

You should laugh it off. Call his bluff. Make a joke about it. But instead, you allow his fingers to thread through yours.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I know.”

Hyunjin

The Office ‘Secret Handshake’

You and Hyunjin have a dumb, overly complicated handshake that started as an inside joke but has now become a thing that everyone knows about and finds incredibly annoying.

It’s all dramatic finger snaps, spins, and an unnecessary over-the-head high-five at the end. Everyone rolls their eyes when you do it, but neither of you care.

Until one day, during a particularly boring meeting, when you glance at Hyunjin from across the conference table. Without a word, you start subtly miming the first move under the table.

Hyunjin bites his lip to hold back a laugh before mirroring your movements. You both manage to get through the whole sequence without breaking eye contact, even as Chan - your long-suffering team leader - sighs, “I know you two are doing that stupid handshake.”

After the meeting, Hyunjin nudges you, grinning. “Maybe we should make it our thing for real.”

Your heart skips. But before you can question him on it, he sends you a wink and strolls away.

You stand frozen in the hallway for a second, replaying Hyunjin’s words in your head. What does he even mean? The handshake is already your thing. It’s dumb, ridiculous, and completely unnecessary—but it’s yours. Unless…

Your thoughts short-circuit for a second, the thought coming into your mind and destroying your rationality.

By the time you’re able to shake yourself out of it, Hyunjin has long disappeared, but you can still hear his whistling from down the hall - sounding so casual for someone who’s just wrecked your entire brain.

And it’s not until mid-afternoon when you see him again.

Acting on impulse, you grab onto his sleeve just as he passes you in the break rooms entrance. “Okay, what did you mean earlier?” You try (but miserably fail) to sound casual.

Hyunjin just looks at you with a slow, knowing grin spreading across his lips. “What does what mean?”

You narrow your eyes, knowing that he’s acting sheepish because he thinks it’s funny. “You know.”

He tilts his head, pretending to think, then suddenly steps closer. The break room is luckily empty, but still, the space between you feels too small. “Are you asking if I meant us?”

Your breath hitches, the air becoming so thick you feel like you’re about to suffocate. He watches you for a moment, his confident stare burning into you - trying to read every emotion and thought that flickers behind your eyes. “Because I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t mean it.”

Your brain short-circuits again.

There’s no way he isn’t enjoying this - he has that glint in his eye, the one he gets when he’s teasing but also dead serious. And the worst part? You can’t even think of a good response because you want more, too.

Before you can properly process it, Hyunjin reaches for your hand and, with a dramatic flourish, initiates the first move of your handshake. Automatically, your fingers snap into place, muscle memory taking over. The spin, the sync, the final over-the-head high-five - it’s all the same. Except now, as your hands linger just a second too long at the end, Hyunjin’s gaze doesn’t waver.

“So?” his voice is softer now. “Our thing?”

Your heart pounds, but you can’t fight your grin.

“Yeah,” you smile, lacing your fingers through his before he can pull away. “Our thing.”

Jisung

The Office Supply Heist

Jisung has a bad habit of stealing things from your desk - pens, sticky notes, even your stress ball. Every time you call him out, he plays dumb. “What? Maybe you’re just bad at keeping track of your stuff.”

But you’ve finally had enough. So you set a trap. Leaving a small notebook and pen on your desk, you write on the first page I know what you’re doing - so when he flips it open he’ll see.

Sure enough, Jisung swipes it within the hour.

When he flips the notebook open and sees the message, he bursts out laughing. “Okay, maybe I take your stuff. But only ‘cause it’s yours.”

You cross your arms. “That’s the worst excuse ever.”

Jisung shrugs, twirling your stolen pen between his fingers. “Or… it’s the best one.”

You roll your eyes, but secretly? You kind of love it. Nonetheless, you scoff, shaking your head as he continues twirling the pen like some kind of smug magician. “So what, you steal my stuff just for fun?”

He smirks. “It’s more entertaining than ordering office supplies like a normal person.”

You narrow your eyes. “You do realize the company provides free stationary, right? There’s literally a whole cabinet full of it.”

Jisung tilts his head, pretending to consider this. “But those don’t have the same charm. Yours are just… better.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he counters, grinning. “It’s like stealing fries off someone’s plate. They just taste better.”

“That is not the same thing!”

Jisung just shrugs, tapping the pen against his chin. “Agree to disagree?”

You shoot him a glare before holding out your hand expectantly. “Give it back.”

He hesitates, twirling the pen one last time between his fingers. “Hmm. Nah.”

“Jisung.”

“What?” He leans back in his chair, completely unfazed. “They’ve got sentimental value now.”

You stare at him, deadpan. “They’ve been in your possession for thirty seconds.”

“Yeah, and in those thirty seconds, they’ve become my favorite stationary.”

You lunge forward in an attempt to snatch the pen first, but Jisung is faster, jerking his hand away just in time. Laughing, he tucks the pen into his pocket before grabbing the notebook and standing up. “Tell you what - if you want them back, you’ll just have to come steal them from me.”

Before you can argue, he winks and strolls off toward the break room, leaving you sitting there, half-annoyed, half-amused. You sigh, shaking your head. This is not over.

Felix

The “Accidental” Coffee Dates

Felix always seems to be in the break room at the exact same time as you. Suspiciously so.

“Wow,” you say one morning, entering the break room at the same time you do everyday to retrieve your first cup of coffee. “What are the odds?”

Felix blinks innocently, but his cheeks tinge just the slighted bit pink. “What do you mean?”

“You definitely time your breaks to match mine.”

He grins sheepishly, “Maybe I just happen to also need a beverage at precisely -” he pauses to check his watch, “10:03am?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? So you don’t just come in here to check what mug I’m using so you can steal it from me later? Because somehow they always end up on your desk?”

Felix smirks. “Well, maybe I don’t want a whole coffee and I just like sharing yours.”

Well, that makes your heart stutter.

Felix watches in amusement, waiting for whatever sassy comeback you’re coming up with. He’s never flirted with you so blatantly before, but it’s clear he’s trying to figure out if you’re into him too.

You hesitate, your fingers tightening slightly around your mug. The break room feels smaller somehow, quieter, the usual hum of the coffee machine and the distant chatter of coworkers fading into the background. Felix is still watching you, his smirk softened into something more patient, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll take the bait.

Your mind races through the past few weeks - the way he always seems to find a reason to linger when you walk in, how his “accidental” coffee thefts have become a running joke, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

Maybe it really was time to stop pretending this was just about caffeine.

You take a slow sip of your coffee, then tilt your head. “So, what you’re saying is… we should just only share one cup from now on?”

Felix grins, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his expression. Surprise, maybe. A little anticipation. “I mean, if that’s what you’re offering.”

You tap your fingers against your mug, considering. “Mmm. I don’t know. Feels like a dangerous precedent.”

“Dangerous?” He leans in slightly, elbows resting on the counter. “How so?”

“Well,” you muse, pretending to think it over, “first it’s coffee. Then maybe it’s lunch. Next thing I know, we’re getting dinner, and suddenly people start thinking it’s a thing.”

Felix hums in amusement, nodding as if this is a very serious concern. “Sounds risky.”

“Very.”

He takes a step back to fully assess you, folding his arms. “And would that be such a bad thing?”

There it is. The shift from playful to real, the challenge hidden beneath his casual tone. He’s putting the question out there, giving you a choice. Your heart instantly kicks into overdrive.

You could brush it off, keep playing the game. Or you could take the leap.

You exhale, setting your cup down on the counter, exactly halfway between you. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Felix’s smile is slow, knowing. Then, he picks up your cup, slowly lifting it to his lips, taking an exaggerated sip before handing it back. “Guess so.”

Your fingers brush as you take it, and just like that, the game changes.

Seungmin

The Mutual Roasting Sessions

Your entire relationship with Seungmin revolves around mercilessly making fun of each other. It’s just how it’s always been between you, so effortless and lighthearted. And you know he’s as addicted to it as much as you are.

For example, yesterday when you walked past his desk, you caught a glance at him scribbling something, working away like a maniac and couldn’t resist: “Seungmin, you literally have the handwriting of a serial killer.”

“At least I write things down. When’s the last time you actually met a deadline?” He’d quipped after you, throwing you a quick glance that revealed just a hint of his smirk.

Okay, you admit, that was fair… you do have a habit of being a little late with deadlines.

But were you about to let him get away with it? Absolutely not. However the next day, you were mid-roast when Seungmin had suddenly leaned in closer, smirking. “You know, if we ever dated, our love language would just be insults.”

Your first response was to let out a snort, followed by an “If we dated?”

Oh, you’d regretted that right away. It’d only taken half a second to notice the way his smirk faltered. But Seungmin had been thrown off by your reaction for just long enough to let slip the flicker of something real behind his eyes.

“Shut up,” he’d muttered, looking away.

Then later that same day, you’d caught him sneaking a glance at you, and suddenly, the teasing didn’t feel so lighthearted anymore.

Which brings you to present day and, for the first time in forever, Seungmin seems off his game. It’s subtle, but you notice it - the way his comebacks aren’t as sharp, the way he hesitates a fraction of a second too long before responding. The way he keeps sneaking glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

If the other day hadn’t happened, you would have found it funny, the King of merciless teasing suddenly being flustered? Hilarious. But now, you can’t help feeling awkward - wishing you’d not made a joke out of him before.

In an attempt to restore your normal dynamic, you try to test the waters. The next time you see him, you make a show of stretching before dropping onto the seat beside him with a sigh. “Man, I don’t know what I’d do without you, Seungmin.”

He raises an eyebrow, suspicious. “Finally admitting I’m the best thing in your life?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you deadpan. “I mean, who else would insult me so consistently? I’d have to pay someone.”

His mouth twitches like he wants to smile but refuses to give you the satisfaction. “That’s true. You’d be lost without me.”

There it is again - that tiny hesitation, the way his gaze flickers to your lips before snapping back up. You should let it go. You should let the moment pass. But you’re insistent.

Instead, you tilt your head, feigning curiosity. “Hey, Seungmin?”

“What?”

You lean in slightly, just enough to close some of the space between you. His breath hitches.

“Were you serious?” you ask, voice quieter now. “About… the dating thing?”

For a second, Seungmin does nothing. Then, he scoffs, but it sounds a little forced. “You think I’d actually want to date you?”

You don’t even flinch. “I think you wouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t at least think about it.”

Silence. A long, charged pause where neither of you move. Then-

“Shut up,” he mutters again, looking away.

But this time, when you catch him sneaking another glance at you, he doesn’t look away so fast. This time, he holds your gaze for just a second longer. And this time, you maintain eye contact with him, trying to prove that you’re not as against the idea as you’d initially made out to be.

Jeongin

The ‘Fake Office Enemies’ Game

You and Jeongin pretend to be workplace rivals for fun. You’re not sure how, or why, it started. All you know is that you’re both on the same strange wavelength and just get so much fulfilment from it.

“You got the last blueberry muffin?” you gasp.

Jeongin smirks, taking a slow, deliberate bite. “Should’ve been quicker.”

So you decide to take it up a notch, escalating things by dramatically declaring, “Jeongin is my nemesis!” in front of the entire office.

To your surprise, he steps closer, grinning. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

You hesitate - too aware of how close he suddenly is. His smile is still teasing, but there’s something softer in his eyes. Something almost fond.

“…I’ll get my revenge,” you say weakly.

Jeongin hums, tilting his head. “Looking forward to it.”

The game, it seems, just got a little more complicated.

You tell yourself it’s nothing - just another moment of playful rivalry, the same as always. But as you settle back into your seat, trying to shake the heat lingering on your face, you can feel Jeongin’s eyes still on you.

The rest of the office drones on, people returning to their work or previous discussions, but your mind is elsewhere. You’re too aware of Jeongin sitting just across the room, the way his fingers drum idly against his desk, the occasional amused glance he sends your way like he knows something you don’t.

When lunch finally rolls around, you make a quick escape, heading toward the break room for a moment to collect yourself. You shouldn’t feel this flustered - this has always been a game. A silly, harmless, pretend-rivalry game.

But the way Jeongin had leaned in earlier, the way his voice dropped just slightly, the way his smirk had softened at the edges… It didn’t feel like just a game anymore.

You shake your head, reaching for the coffee pot, only to find it completely empty.

A familiar voice hums from behind you. “Looking for something?”

You turn, already knowing what you’ll see. Jeongin, holding the last fresh cup of coffee in his hands, lifting it to his lips with that signature smirk.

You narrow your eyes. “You did that on purpose.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says innocently, taking a slow sip.

Your hand twitches at your side. “You do realize this means war?”

Jeongin tilts his head, pretending to consider your words. “Hmm. Does it, though?” His gaze flickers down to you, the teasing light still in his eyes, but something else lingers there too. Something almost expectant.

You don’t know why your heart speeds up at that look.

Before you can come up with a witty retort, he steps forward, lowering his voice just enough that you can feel the shift in the air between you. “You’re taking this rivalry thing pretty seriously,” he muses, tapping a finger against the coffee cup. “Almost like you actually care about beating me.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “Of course I do. What kind of nemesis would I be if I didn’t?”

He grins, leaning in just a fraction closer. “Oh? So if I stopped playing along, you’d miss it?”

Your breath catches. It’s a simple question. A playful one, really. But for some reason, you don’t have an answer ready.

Jeongin watches you carefully, the smirk on his lips softening ever so slightly.

For the first time since this game began, you feel like you’re standing at a line. One you hadn’t even realized existed until now. And you have no idea what happens if you cross it.

“…I’d just find someone else to be my office enemy,” you say finally, forcing a casual shrug.

Jeongin clicks his tongue. “Ouch.” But there’s no real offense in his voice, just that same easy amusement, the kind that always makes it hard to tell exactly what he’s thinking.

Then, before you can react, he lifts the coffee cup and presses it into your hands.

Your fingers wrap around the warm ceramic instinctively, blinking up at him in confusion. “What—”

“You can have this one.” He grins. “Consider it a peace offering.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re plotting something.”

“Maybe.” He winks. “But you’ll just have to wait and find out, won’t you?”

And with that, he turns and strolls out of the break room, leaving you standing there, holding the coffee he’d stolen for himself.

Your so-called enemy just let you win. And you don’t know what’s worse, the fact that he did it, or the fact that you kind of liked it.

#skz fluff #skz x reader #skz angst #skz oneshots #skz reactions #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids oneshots #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids fic #kpop fluff #kpop x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop oneshots

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cryptidofthekeys · 1 year ago

Text

A Tiny Star is Born - Mr. Puzzles x Tiny!Reader

Alrighty, finally done with this one! It isn't super long- I mean longer than I expected, but here y'all go, G/T time with Mr. Puzzles! You get a lot more special privileges than anyone else, even members of his crew lmao- he'd just slap them away instead of doing what he's doing with you-

Only trigger warning for this one is that the reader nearly has a panic attack!

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You were sitting there on the couch, you had needed a self care day today as many things have been stressing you out as of recently, and so here you are, with your favorite drinks, snacks, and a weighted blanket to help keep you comfortable, you had seen your favorite streaming service Puzzlevision has uploaded a new episode, you had always loved that streaming service.

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It had a lot of good content, in fact, you were probably the number one fan as not many others watched it for whatever reason and even those who did, didn’t give it high regard, you would also always give the episodes five star ratings.

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It was like a comfort series for you, but either way, you sat there for most of the night, binging some of the previous episodes while eating your snacks, it was cozy and comfortable, and you could feel yourself beginning to relax as you focused on the TV, you could feel your stress melting away already, watching the silly antics going on, you smiled and giggled occasionally.

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You really needed this, this self care day …er, well night was exactly what you needed, as you watched a few episodes, at episode three, you could’ve sworn you seen something on the screen flicker.

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But at first you ignored it, thinking maybe it was just a weird glitch in the program, about halfway into that episode, you could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of someone standing in the background that you KNEW hadn’t been there before as you’ve watched these episodes already, you shuddered a little, maybe your television was just messing up, or maybe some programming malfunction, it was so brief and so fast whenever it happened and then for the next few episodes, it was normal, you relaxed a bit more now, figuring it was just some glitches.

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You tried not to worry too much about it and continued watching the episodes until you were finally on the new one, excited, you sit up a bit more, still keeping yourself wrapped up in the weighted blanket, you cut the volume up and became fully focused, like you usually had when a new episode dropped.

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And well, it was pretty long, about thirty minutes or more, this episode involved a circus of sorts with all sorts of interesting colorful characters, they were going on wacky wild adventures which entertained you pretty well.

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You finished some of your snacks and the drink you had and for now you sat there and watched, thoroughly enjoying this episode, technically it had been out for a few days now as you hadn’t had time to sit down until you pretty much forced yourself, the episode was pretty sad with the end though, with one character disappearing into nothingness, which broke your heart a little, but even then, you enjoyed this episode a lot!

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You had looked at the ratings of it and frowned, it had even lower ratings than the last one from what the overall public says, it had 3.2 which made you sigh, you didn’t understand why others didn’t like this but oh well, it didn’t matter, what mattered was you liked it.

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You rated it five stars, and as you did, after you rated it and backed out of the website, it came right back up, you tried to close it, it did it again, you raised a brow, what was… Going on with the technology tonight?! You sighed in frustration as at some point your phone shut itself off and you sat it down on the table, and that’s when you noticed, the lights around your house were flickering and when you looked back at your television, you jumped slightly…

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Okay, you DEFINITELY saw a face for a split second there, you saw that one message you’ve seen when they were doing maintenance on the network, it said ‘PUZZLEVISION, PLEASE STAND BY’ and had the logo in the middle, you blinked in confusion but shrugged, maybe there was some kind of power surge going on, and then you yelped and jumped as some of the lights seemed to blow in the house.

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And you were nearly left in pitch black darkness except for the light of the television screen, you hear it beginning to static, the static growing progressively louder with each passing moment, and then those color bars appeared along with a beep that honestly made your ears ring.

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You were completely confused and beginning to grow frightened, this wasn’t… Normal… This wasn’t just a glitch… And then your suspicions were confirmed, as suddenly a face popped up on the television screen, a colorbar shaped into a smile, white eyes, two funky shaped eyebrows, and well you screamed in horror which made the face change into one of shock before you heard a voice speak...

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“Ah…! There you are! I’ve been waiting for you to log back on to Puzzlevision’s streaming service! C’mere” And then before you knew it, you heard a squelching sound and then saw a huge hand reaching for you from the TV.

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You naturally panicked and freaked out, immediately dropping the weighted blanket and trying to run, you had managed to get to the front door and you had gotten it open before you screamed as you were grabbed by the massive hand, it was a gentle grasp but you were completely engulfed and then before you knew it, you felt yourself being pulled back and into the television.

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You screamed and struggled, trying to fight off whatever the hell has grabbed a hold of you, you heard something that sounded like someone snapping their fingers and then you heard your front door close and lock.

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And then suddenly, you heard a bubbling sound and then… It was completely silent, you were encased in the giant hand, it was completely dark, and you were breathing heavily, and panicking, trying to squirm free, and then you heard a bunch of television static, and then suddenly, you felt the hand uncurling from you but gripping around your waist to ensure you didn’t go anywhere.

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You gasped and immediately looked around frantically, you saw some sort of weird television themed dimension, it was weird, and hard to focus fully on, but you could see TV sets floating around this strange space looking dimension.

------------------------------------------------------- You were shaking and breathing heavily and about to have a panic attack but then you heard a voice “Hey, hey! My dear…! Relax, just look at me, all eyes on me~!” The voice cheerfully spoke, and then you slowly looked to where you heard that voice and your eyes went wide, you looked up, and saw a… Giant television in front of you, it was that same face you had seen on your own TV set just a few moments ago.

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You could see the television was gray, had some dials and buttons, clearly an old model of television, he wore a black bowler hat, and had two antennas atop it, one shaped like a lightning bolt, he was also dressed very fancy in mostly gray, black, and white.

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Your mouth fell agape in shock, your panic somewhat dying down as you realized just who you were staring at, as it finally struck you…

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And well, the TV humanoid’s screen changed to show a more smug face “Ah, you recognize my handsome face now, my dear little star?” You were shocked as your struggles died down to some degree even though you were still nervous “...Y-You… You’re… M-M-M-M…” And then the TV headed humanoid’s face flickered to some annoyance by you being too shocked to speak clearly before his screen showed that smug look again.

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“Yes, yes, that’s right… The common denominator…! The most handsomest, and amazing host of ALL your favorite shows… MR. PUZZLES!” His face flickered to a grin that honestly looked a little unsettling.

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You were completely surprised by this, not only were you meeting the man behind Puzzlevision itself but also the man responsible for creating your favorite television shows and movies, you were meeting an… Idol essentially, but the thing that was the most shocking was just how huge this dude was, he was LITERALLY a giant, in fact he had to be 90 to a 100ft tall, he was holding you a gloved palm like you were weightless.

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It was… Scary… He brought you closer to the screen “My my, absolutely flabbergasted by my presence are we? I know, I know~ I’m quite wonderful, but, aside from that…! I want you to relax, I am not here to harm you or anything vile like that!”

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“No no, in fact, YOU my dear… You are the one who's been rating my shows with a PERFECT five stars, have you not?” And before you could speak, he chuckled, his face flickering to a happy smile “Of course you are! Well, I’m here to personally thank you! I do… Apologize for frightening you so, I er…” And then his face shifted to an annoyed and potentially embarrassed look.

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“...I’ll be honest, I do sometimes forget just how horrifying it could be to see a giant hand emerging from your television screen and then… Snatching you up, my intentions really were NOT to frighten you! In fact, I have a proposal of sorts for you in mind!”

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And then you were about to ask but once again, Mr. Puzzles spoke, he seemed to have realized something “Oh, where are my manners though, I’ve told you my name, which you obviously knew, but I’m afraid I don’t know your name, so what is it my little star?” You took a moment, squinting your eyes as you expected to be interrupted but Mr. Puzzles gestures for you to go on, his face going back to that smug look and so you spoke, still a bit shaky from the whole ordeal as you rested on Mr. Puzzles’ palm.

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“M-My name is… (Y/N)” And this made him snicker a bit “Ah, I see, this is a reader insert fanfiction where you can enter your own name…” You blinked a few times “. . .What?” And then he shook his head, his face going back to a smile.

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“Oh never you mind that, my little star! Just talking to myself… Anyways! It’s truly a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N), you’re QUITE a big fan of my show, and I must say I am honored by that…” And then Mr. Puzzles snapped his fingers and the television sets around all changed to the website, to show your ratings specifically, showing all those five stars you’ve given.

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“You’ve given me five stars on every episode so far, and even though the overall audience would… Disagree” His face flickered to show annoyance before flickering back “Your opinions of my show have NOT gone unnoticed!”

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Mr. Puzzles then leans in closer to get a better look at your tiny form, he seems to be pondering something, he seems to get a good idea but he doesn’t say much, waiting for you to speak now.

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You take a moment to recompose yourself, you take some deep breaths and then finally you speak “I- Um… Well, I’m… Glad I could at least help, with my ratings but… …What does that… Have to do with anything? Why did you take me? And also, you… H-How are you so gigantic?”

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Mr. Puzzles pauses for a moment before chuckling “Well now, aren’t we full of questions, naturally so, either way, I’ll answer the simple one first, how I’m so gigantic, it’s simple really, I can grow my body or shrink it to whatever size I please” . . . That… Really didn’t make sense to you but then you looked around at the weird dimension you were in and looked at the being responsible for your favorite shows.

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…Eh, maybe some things didn’t need to be questioned too much… And then Mr. Puzzles’ screen flickered, showing that wide colorbar grin that unsettled you a little, he leaned even closer, his huge screen nearly touching you, the light from it was… Bright and warm, it was… Somewhat comforting “You wanna know why I chose you…? It’s very simple, my little star… Seeing how you're such a big fan of mine and how many times you’ve watched all those episodes”

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And just like that, the television sets around you flickered to show you, to show you on your couch or in other areas watching those shows and okay that was… Creepy.

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“I figured I would make you a little proposition… So, (Y/N)... How would you like to star… In your very own show?!” Mr. Puzzles spoke excitedly, he saw your surprise, and waited for a response, you thought about it, but were a bit unsure “...I-I don’t know… I-” And then Mr. Puzzles cut you off, a smug look on his face “Think about it…! You could be a star, aligned to my vision of course, we could create something PERFECT here!”

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And then you took a few moments to think about it further, and well… It’s not like you had anything better to do, you just hoped it wouldn’t stress you out too much, on the positive side, you’d get to be working with the creator of Puzzlevision himself “...Y’know what …Sure…”

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Mr. Puzzles’ had a grin on his face, but it wasn’t that unsettling one, he seemed completely delighted “Fantastic! Then… A Tiny Star is Born!” And then he chuckled, muttering something under his breath “…Also funnily enough the title to this story…” Before you could question it, he held you carefully in his gloved hands and spun around happily with you.

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“My dear, you and I will create something wonderful together! Come, come, let’s get started!” You smiled a little, while he could be a bit… Eccentric and honestly a little unsettling looking at times, Mr. Puzzles seemed genuinely nice enough.

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And then you heard him snap his fingers and suddenly, the setting around you changed, it looked like a dressing room of sorts, Mr. Puzzles finally sets you down in the chair, giving your head a little pat with his finger “Now darling~! It’s time to tell you what you’re going to be doing” And then he snapped his fingers again and suddenly, a script appeared in your lap.

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“This is going to be a tale of action… Adventure! Comedy! …Maybe some tragedy… And who knows, maybe even… Romance~!” And he winked when he said that which made you blush a little before you opened the script and began to read it.

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Judging from what the script says, it’s about you getting imprisoned in a cage of sorts by an evil giant, and you have to escape from there, and then your adventure will unfold once free.

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Mr. Puzzles then smiled, clasping his hands together as he looked down at your tiny form, he bent down “Just read over your script and rehearse for as long as you need to, mkay? After all, you can’t just rush perfection~ And when you’re done, some of my assistants will help you with your costume! Good luck, my little star!” And then with a snap of his fingers, Mr. Puzzles disappeared...

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Leaving you alone to catch your breath and take a bit to fully process what was happening, you had essentially been kidnapped by not only a giant TV headed humanoid, but also the man who just happens to be the one behind Puzzlevision itself and he had just essentially hired you as an actor.

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And yet here you were, sitting in the chair, looking at yourself in the mirror, which, you noticed while the room was giant sized, a lot of the objects were perfectly sized for you, everything seemed to have been customized to fit your size, you weren’t complaining though, at least Mr. Puzzles was considerate enough …Either way, you looked down at the script and sighed, smiling a little, this couldn’t be all bad, after all.

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You had met your idol and you were going to be working with him! This gave you determination, excitement, and so you began to read through the entire script, reading the idea, fixating on it much like you did with those shows, you would also rehearse your lines over and over again until they were memorized.

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During this time because well, nobody could just memorize all that in a day, Mr. Puzzles would pop in and check up on your progress and offer you some supporting words, and also obviously giving you something to eat and drink as well as even offering you breaks from time to time, during these breaks, you two would actually get to know more about each other, Mr. Puzzles would let you sit in his palm, you’d talk about yourself.

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And he’d talk about himself …A LOT, although, you noticed despite his egotistical nature that he seemed to genuinely listen to you, in fact, you noticed with any other crew, he’d listen to you more so instead of constantly interrupting and talking over.

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What seemed to stun everyone the most is the fact that Mr. Puzzles listened to YOUR ideas and actually liked them or implemented them into the show they were planning, because according to the crew, he NEVER listened to anyone aside from himself, he’d barely even listen to his own audience, you took notice that you got… Some special privileges, and then finally, after a while of rehearsing, some tweaking of the script, costume design, and all that.

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It was time… Mr. Puzzles appeared, hands clasped together and a smug look on his face “Alright, my dear little star! It’s time for your big debut! It’s time for you to shine!” You smiled and nodded, all dressed up as the man picked you up, holding you gently in his gloved palms, his face flickered back to a smile.

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You knew how badly Mr. Puzzles wanted to hit a full five star rating on his show, and you knew he could be… VERY much a perfectionist but he seemed to lighten up with you around “Yeah, maybe you’ll get the five stars this time, I uh, I’ll definitely do my best to help you, Mr. Puzzles” And the TV headed humanoid paused momentarily before smiling with his head tilted to the side.

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He pats your head affectionately “D’aww… Aren’t you sweet? You’ll do fantastic! After all, a face like yours was made for television, if I do say so myself~” And you blushed a bit at that and then… It was time…

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Mr. Puzzles heard a crew announce that and then he sets you down gently, he ushers you along with some big fingers “Now go on my dear! You can do this, you’ll look fantastic!” Mr. Puzzles praises which gives you some confidence and you nod, and then you were heading out there, it was… A bit nerve wracking, you were worried deep down of failing, disappointing or worse, upsetting Mr. Puzzles as well.

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You had seen how the man could be, sure his anger nor disappointment had NEVER been directed at you so far but seeing that one face… Those realistic eyes and lips, it was… Horrifying to say the least.

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You just tried to do your best, once the cameras were rolling, you played your part, an innocent tiny human who had been captured by a giant, taken to a castle, and shoved into a cage, well, you supposed he was handsome to you as Mr. Puzzles tended to star in his own shows a lot, you acted out your part, the other gigantic being acting out theirs, you had no idea where they even came from but you didn’t question it.

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Then came the scene of the giant about to grab you from your cage before, they had fallen over as if knocked out, and well, sure enough, here comes Mr. Puzzles, playing the hero, a hand extends to you, which you had been told to act fearful of at first to the script.

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…It was… Hard to truly be fearful when you trusted him as much as you did, and then Mr. Puzzles spoke, his voice dramatic …Well, more dramatic than usual “No no, my dear…! Don’t be frightened, I am here to save you from this monstrous creature…! Climb onto my hand, and I shall free you from your gruesome fate…!” You acted hesitantly like you had rehearsed, acting hesitantly as you walked over to the massive palm splayed out in front of you.

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And then you slowly climbed onto it and you were lifted up to see the face …Well, the screen of your savior, you saw the smug smile on his screen and well, you genuinely blushed, you couldn’t help it, and you had even seen some blush on his screen as well, it wasn’t… A part of the script but it added to the scene.

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And then, Mr. Puzzles was about to take you away from there before the giant began to wake up, and then a battle ensued, Mr. Puzzles had set you down, standing in front of you protectively, it took you every fiber of your being not to roll your eyes at how dramatic he was when speaking “Don’t worry my dear! I’ll keep you safe! You have nothing to fear!” Mr. Puzzles and the giant fought.

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A clash of titans if you would… You of course went and hid behind one of the containers on the shelf as that’s what was scripted, the fight lasted for about twenty minutes or so before Mr. Puzzles came out on top, he stood over the fallen giant victoriously.

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And then Mr. Puzzles walked back over to you, breathing heavily for the effect, he then extended a huge palm down to the table “Come now, my dear, let me get you out of here” And then you stepped out, and began walking toward the palm, looking up at him, you climbed onto it and then he began to walk out of the castle, walking and taking one last look back on the fallen giant, after walking out, that ended the scene.

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And another version of him sitting in a chair yelled “CUT!” You honestly didn’t know how he could do what he did, but then again, magic was already a pretty nonsensical thing, you had stopped questioning things upon first meeting him to be honest.

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That copy had disappeared in dramatic fashion after that and the real Mr. Puzzles holding you currently held you up and began to swing you around carefully and gently “My dear little star! You have such talent! I just KNEW I picked the perfect actor for my shows!” You smiled, your face slightly reddened at those words, you had hoped this would help Mr. Puzzles get to five stars as you knew how badly he had wanted it.

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In fact, during the time you two had spent together, he had confided in you just how badly he wanted to hit that five star rating, he had even mentioned something that if he hit those five stars then nothing would ever be the same again.

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You really hoped you could help him achieve this dream of his and then Mr. Puzzles set you down, his screen flickering to that happy grin of his, it was the less unsettling one, you noticed how his eyes seemed to move about during it, it was a cute expression …Although you definitely had your favorite expression of his, you wouldn’t say that out loud though, and then he set you down on the ground “Alrighty! Why don’t you go and take a breather, (Y/N)? After all, I’m sure you’re exhausted after that wonderful performance!"

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You nodded, he was right, you were exhausted after all that, especially from all the nervousness you felt deep down, you headed off to your own little room that Mr. Puzzles had designed specifically for you.

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You did wonder if he planned to keep you here forever or something, after all, you did have a home to go back to, you maybe needed to talk to him about that… …For now, you sat in your room that was perfectly customized to your size, you sighed and took some deep breaths, you decided to grab yourself something to snack on and drink and then you sat down on the couch, you needed some stress relief, so you decided to read a book.

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After all, usually after shows were filmed, Mr. Puzzles would be gone for a bit, you assumed he was keeping up with the ratings and well making sure everything was in order, he seemed to be on top of everything that goes on here, he seemed to be in control of everything here judging from the looks of it.

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You read your book for a bit before moving onto playing some video games, you did that for a little bit, and then finally, you listened to some music, all of these activities easing your stress, although, there was a lingering fear deep down in the back of your head, worrying that you hadn’t done a good job, that Mr. Puzzles would be angry with you if he didn’t hit those five stars...

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Even if he had never shown any signs of anger to you, you definitely had a lot more special privileges compared to the other crew members and actors, in fact, you were the one Mr. Puzzles hung out with a lot, he rarely ever hung out with the others, if he did, it was mostly for appearance’ sake.

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He could be egotistical a LOT, he was a perfectionist, he had a lot of… Questionable traits in all fairness but as you sat there listening to music, you kept thinking of the TV headed humanoid, you had been here already for… Well, a long time, Mr. Puzzles had said you had been here for about a week when you asked, which on one hand you REALLY needed to get back to your home because you just know you had some cleaning to do amongst other things.

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But on the other you didn’t… Necessarily want to leave here either, the reason is because even during the week you had spent here, you had saw Mr. Puzzles less as an idol, but more so… As a crush, you were developing feelings for him.

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You thought back to just a few moments ago, when the two of you had blushed at one another, you thought about that damn face, that damn smug look he oh so loved to wear all the time… Even now, when you were alone, just thinking about it made your face blush, you groaned as you plopped down on the couch, laying down and placing your hands over your face.

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You were falling in love with the TV headed humanoid and you felt silly for it, after all, hell, you doubted he felt anything like THAT toward you, sure, he liked you and gave you special privileges and… . . . Wait… Did he also have feelings for you? You shot up from the couch, thinking about that now.

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And the more you thought about that the more you began to realize that maybe he did have a thing for you, you wouldn’t assume obviously, but it would make plausible sense, before you could question it further though, suddenly, you had been teleported out of your room and grabbed up by a giant gloved hand like usual, you yelped and panicked just a little bit from the suddenness of it and before you could even try to speak or protest...

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Mr. Puzzles was spinning around with you again, and okay, this time it was making you pretty dizzy, the TV headed humanoid wasted no time in telling you what the deal was “My dear little star! Look!” He pointed at his own television screen, and it flickered.

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This time, not showing a face but he showed the episode that had just dropped with you in it, and your eyes widened, you looked shocked, the episode had a full five stars, everyone, even some of those executives that had criticized the show so harshly were stunned with their reviews of it, they had even given it a five stars, the overall opinion of the public was that this show was very good, and this meant you had helped him.

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You had helped Mr. Puzzles achieve his dream, and that made you ecstatic, now you understood why he was spinning you around “H-Hah…! We did it!” You were happy, finally, the streaming service and the shows you had such a passion and love for, now people seemed to understand.

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Mr. Puzzles’ faces flickered between each one except the scary and annoyed expression, he seemed like he was going to overload with happiness unless he calmed down, he tried to calm down and recompose himself, his face going back to a regular smile “Yes! I finally got my five stars, and it’s thanks to you, my dear! I just knew I made the right decision by taking you with me, with you by my side, we’ll be unstoppable! The whole WORLD will tune into Puzzlevision to watch our shows!”

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It was not often, if at all that Mr. Puzzles would give anyone else aside from himself the spotlight, the credit, but he seemed to be ecstatic by the thought of sharing the fame if it meant sharing it with you.

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You were happy, and you hadn’t realized there were some tears forming in your eyes, because well, knowing you had helped him succeed, that took a lotta nervousness off that you had been feeling, Mr. Puzzles quickly noticed this, and his face flickered to an expression you hadn’t seen before, a face of genuine concern and worry “(Y/N)? My favorite little actor… What’s wrong? Have I been holding you too tightly? Did the swaying scare you?”

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You were quick to shake your head “N-No, I just… I’m just… Really glad I helped you, I-I uh, I won’t lie to you, Mr. Puzzles… I-I was… Kinda nervous, anxious about…” And you paused, unsure whether you should admit this.

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But, Mr. Puzzles looked like he wanted to know what you were about to say, in fact, he wasn’t interrupting you, and well, you couldn’t lie to him or hide that forever, so you sighed and decided to open up just a bit “...I-I just, I was worried… That i-if I didn’t, um, get you to five stars, that you’d… Get angry with me” And Mr. Puzzles gasps, his face flickering to one of surprise but he understood why you’d think that, and then he brought you closer to his screen.

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A warm smile on his face as he held you in his giant gloved palm “Oh my dear little star… My sincerest, I… Know I must have put a LOT of stress on you during those times, and while, true, I do get angry with some of my staff…”

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Mr. Puzzles begins to gently stroke your head with his other hand, using a finger since he didn’t want to accidentally squish your tiny form “I would never take my anger out on you…! You… …Well, as cliché as it may sound, you are… Special to me, not just my favorite actor obviously, I…” And then he paused, seemingly trying to find the words, his screen flickered, and well, he awkwardly stuttered which is rare for someone as confident as him.

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And his screen had pink where his cheeks would be “...W-Well I… Erm, I… I value… You…” His words sound a bit robotic before a flicker of annoyance crosses his face and he sighs before finally speaking properly “I… I really do value your company, you make this space feel… LESS lonely”

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You looked up at Mr. Puzzles, processing his words, you felt his finger reach up to wipe your tears gently away and that made you smile and blush slightly yourself, you reached out to hold his finger, your hand could just barely fit around the gloved appendage because of your small stature, while you did need to address the fact that you also needed to go home …At least every once in a while.

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You could do that later, as it seems Mr. Puzzles had an idea, as he pulled his free hand back “Here, I know just the way to make it up to you” And with a snap of his fingers, the space around you two changed, into a much cozier setting.

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It was your home but, big enough to accommodate Mr. Puzzles’ huge height, a place where you felt at your most comfortable and safe, he snapped his fingers again and a weighted blanket formed around you, wrapping securely around you, some of your comfort foods and drinks appeared if you wanted, Mr. Puzzles then holds you close to his chest, and well.

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You can hear a heartbeat, it makes you wonder about Mr. Puzzles anatomy, just how did the man work exactly…? He was a TV headed humanoid, did he have a real heart or was he just imitating a heartbeat to give you comfort? Either way, it was a very nice gesture.

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Mr. Puzzles looked down at you with a warm smile and a blush on his face “Let’s just enjoy some quiet time together my dear little star” You nodded at that, feeling utterly relieved to have the pressure taken off and to just be able to relax, you sat there in the palm of the TV headed humanoid’s hand, he gently stroked your hair in an affectionate manner.

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You hadn’t had much time to think about it since you had been working for the last week or so with Mr. Puzzles but, now you were paying attention to just how tiny you were in the palm of his hands, you fit perfectly in them, you felt… Comfortable and safe, despite how unhinged the man could be.

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You have seen some of his more… Unhinged moments play out as the week had unfolded obviously, and well, he could definitely be intense but he never seemed like that to you…

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You watched as Mr. Puzzles looked down at you, even the way he looked at you compared to others was different, he had a soft, gentle expression on his face, he did give you that smug look sometimes but that just made your heart swoon whenever he did, and you had a feeling he knew that because he loved to pull that face on you more often.

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In fact, his screen flickered to that face as if he had read your mind, he didn’t speak but he was smugly staring down at you, he adored attention and oh boy, did he love your attention on him like this.

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You felt the warmth of Mr. Puzzles screen bearing down on you, it wasn’t overwhelming or super hot, just a pleasant warmth that made you feel comforted, you knew your parents had once told you not to sit too close to the TV many times but, well, considering how things are now, you wouldn’t mind sitting close to THIS television, it’s something you could get used to.

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

You snuggled a bit closer in the giant TV headed humanoid’s palm and you saw his screen flicker for a split second, he seemed surprised that you were so comfortable, so trusting around him but then he had a genuine smile and a pink blush on his screen.

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You two didn’t speak, but you didn’t have to, the looks on your faces, the atmosphere of the room spoke for itself, Mr. Puzzles gently reached his free hand down, stroking your cheek with a huge finger, you allowed this to happen, even nuzzling slightly into the touch, it felt… Nice, you felt completely safe and trusting in these giant hands.

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

You reached out to gently pat his finger, as a silent thank you, pausing slightly when you looked at your own hand just compared to one of his fingers alone, you were pretty fascinated by the size difference, even though Mr. Puzzles had said he could shrink or grow whenever he felt like it.

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You had questioned to yourself at some point why he stayed this height, in fact at some point during the week you had asked why he stayed that height and he gave you a strange answer, yet another weird thing of mentioning a story of sorts, he had said something along the lines of ‘Oh, that’s because this story wouldn’t exactly be an x Tiny!Reader if I wasn’t giant’ . . . You REALLY needed to ask him to explain what he meant by all that because it had just confused you completely.

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But for now, you were beginning to grow sleepy, you yawned and Mr. Puzzles seemed to catch on to it, and well his screen flickered for a moment before going back to his smile, and then, soft, relaxing music began to play.

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You smiled, appreciative of that as you lay down on the palm of his hands, he continued to stroke your head gently, keeping you held securely to his chest, the steady rhythm of a heartbeat that you didn’t know was real or synthetic but either way, the steady rhythm helped further relax you, you snuggled into both his palm and the weighted blanket, you began to close your eyes, you felt the warm glow and light of his screen on you.

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You could tell he was looking at you, and well, Mr. Puzzles wouldn’t deny, to him, you looked absolutely adorable like this, he was… Awkward with admitting any feelings he may have, hell, he had been awkward trying to tell you that you mattered to him in general.

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You then spoke finally, your soft sleepy voice echoing out “...Goodnight, Mr. Puzzles…” And then Mr. Puzzles chuckled softly, patting your head “...Goodnight, my dear little star… Sleep well…” And then you finally fell asleep, safe and sound in the palm of his hands.

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(Woo boy gfjdhgdfsk be glad y'all get the fluff- bc oh man I have a lotta angsty ideas for this sadistic tv headed freak /vpos but legit I do have a lot of fun writing g/t stuff, a part of me misses doing that for characters but genuinely I hope y'all enjoy!)

#smg4 mr puzzles #smg4 puzzlevision #mr puzzles x reader #reader insert #giant and tiny #fluff #comfort #The Cryptid's Writings #tiny reader #he treats y'all so well but anyone else he's like aha no- go away #tw panic attack mention

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a-40k-simp · 12 days ago

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Spellbound

Author notes: I finally finished my first fanfic! I not gonna lie, it's not perfect and english its not my first language, so expect to be a little weird. I am accepting criticism, since I want to improve my writing skills. I hope you guys enjoy!

Content: space marine x gn!reader, fluffy.

" Not so fast, my Lord ...", you tried to ask, but your voice was barely audible due to the fatigue. The only response you got was a grunf muffled by helmet, followed by the pace of your companion getting faster and faster and the giant hand dragging you by the wrist getting tighter and tighter. "Please, let me go... I can't keep up...", you plead again, almost falling again, feet stumbling in every rock and lodge in the way. " We arrived ", he finally spoke, and thank to the Emperor, stopped. You take the opportunity for catching your breath. You sat in dirt, legs pulsing with pain. Your senses slowly return, now being able to see the ramshackle structure in front of you. An old storage, abandoned over one months ago, but look away worse thank to the tyranids incursions. Couldn't reach this place before, because of the xenos and the thirty minute walk through tough terrain to get here. Walk that you made in half of the time by being drag like sack of potatoes by your the 'lovable' giant that stood next to you. Brother Nathaniel ignored you, as usual, focusing instead to analyze the building. The right part of the roof had been completed dismantle, the left side was cover in fleshy woozy and glue to a tall structure the Emperor know what was. But despite everything, the middle part seemed reasonable stable, with the door still standing, leading to the inside. The marine didn't wait to inspect the place, leaving you alone outside. You turned around to contemplate the landscape around you. A desert of debris and tyranid biomass, that just some weeks ago was perfect savalge camping outside the Mechanicus facility. You sight. Heavy steps could be heard leaving the building, he probably found the radio you two came to fetch.

" Let's go", the monotonous voice came from behind you, "No", you answer. "No?" The voice was now even lower and accompanied by a hint of threat, "It's not for you to decide, guardsmen. You receive order, and you follow them". "I am tired of being drag!", you shouted, "Yes, I will return to the church, but after resting and walking with my own foot!". In any other occasion would be suicide to talk like that to member of the Adeptus Astartes, specially one under the wing of the Inquisition as part of the Deathwatch. "You have three seconds to stand up and follow me, witch", he didn't need to raise his voice to threat someone, but despite of helmet covering his features, you could feel the rage boiling under it. Witch? What he meant by witch? The common sense in your head told you to shut up and obey, but your anger overcome you. "No way! You dragged me here, making sure to throw me against every stone in the path, I asked you to walk slower, but you ignored me as if I were some kind of irrational animal, and now you want me to accept this torture for more fifteen minutes!?". Your answer: "It's not my fault you walk so slow". That's it, that was your last straw, "WHY HATE ME SO MUCH?". Silence. His tone change from authoritarian to confuse, "I... don't follow you...". "You don't!?", you continued, "Since you guys arrived, you seem to hate me. Every time a tried to approach you, you brushed me off, every time I tried to go on a mission with you, you refuse and told me to go with one of your brothers, every time a tried to suggest a strategy, to be useful to the team, you dismissed. I thought I had insulted you some how, I wished to apologize, sort things out between us, and only answer I received was 'I don't need your apologies, human'. I heard you insult me countless times, is very see to hear in an echoing church. I know only came in this mission, because your captain forced you. And just right now you called me a witch, FOR NO REASON!". He stood there, motionless, while you screamed at him. "What you even want from me, Nathaniel !?", you finally finished, finally put out everything you keep in your throat for past month. Silence reigned between you, aside the wind of the planes. Wait for answer, anything, any explanation no matter how stupid, would be enough. A bip came from the vox communicator. "Its getting late, we need to return to base", that's was you answer after one month. You screamed once again in frustration and leaved him behind.

"'Its getting late', asshole, 'We need to return to base', moron", you walked fast despite your sore legs, no pain in the world was bigger than your rage right now. When you arrived at base, you would slam the door of your bedroom so strong that walls would shake, them proceeded to scream until your vocal cords would stop work. And you wouldn't leave until the rescue transport arrived. You don't want to see an astartes nevermore in your live! You was so lost in your thoughts, you no even notice the shadow behind you. You couldn't not even react when the whip of meat hit you, knocking you in the ground. Your ears were ringing when look into what attacked you, a tyranid warrior. 'Dawn it', you thought, 'It must have heard the sound of my screams, then he waited for me to move away from Nathaniel to attack me'. It was the end, here, in the middle of the nothing, at hands of a foul xeno. 'At least', you thought, 'I will be reunited with my squad. Sargent, Bill, Falks, Sandy, Nestor and all the others. We will finally be together again, under the light of Empeor...' You closed your eyes, waiting for the worst, was the creature got closer and closer. You heard the monster lift its claws and swing in your direction. But impact never came, for the attack was stopped with metal clanging. You opened eyes to see what you thought was impossible: the tyranid was stopped by no other than Nathaniel, using all his strength to hold the beast. With quick gesture, he grabbed his chainsword and impaled the creature, tearing apart from bottom to top, spreading its bloody rest under him. You sit with struggle, you notice a giant tear in arm, blood pulling out. You turn to gaze at the marine cover in red, "Did your power faltered you, witch?". "I am not a witch, sir...", this last 'sir' was pronounced with certain bitterness. You were thankful at he save you, very unexpected to say the least, but didn't forget anything he did. "Oh, you not?", now was his time to lose his composer, "So tell me, why did you cursed me?. "What?", you didn't understand nothing, and blood lost wasn't exactly helping. "WHY.DID.CURSE.ME?", it was the first time he raised his voice. "I didn't cursed you! I don't even know what you talking about!", you mind was running in circles, what this now? "Oh, didn't? So could you kindly to explain to me why I can't stop think about you?". Silence, again. Nothing to be heard, beside the wind. "What?", you asked, baffled. "Now you pretend innocent! Unbelievable!", he continued, "Since day one I suspect of your behavior. Always pretending to nice and helpful, but I know what you are. I know cast a spell on us! Why else I would think about everyday about you? Why else I would worry about your well being, to the point of make you seem bad in front of the captain in hopes that you would transfer to more 'safe' place? Why else I would follow you from distance to make sure you be fine in your missions? Why else I feel this pain in my heart every time I see laughing and smiling with my brothers? It's because you are chaos witch! Send to fool us and stop us from freeing this world of the taint of evil, you cast charming spell in all of us! But I will not falter, I will not fall in your temptation!", he finally finished, he finally put out everything he keep in his throat for past month. The silence returned, it's starting to become a habit. Your face became warm and reddish, "I-I am no psycher, my lord", you explained, "And if I was, brother Erik would know since your arrival, he's a librarian after all...". "Oh...", he muttered, slowly realizing his own stupidity, could verified with Erik this whole time. But this did not explained all this 'feelings' he had for her, unless he was... ouh... OUH... shit...

A familiar voice came from the vox, "Nathiel, vox check, are you alright?, asked captain Aegis. "Y-yes, voice check", Nathaniel tried to hide his ambarassament the best he could. " You said you back in thirty minutes, but its been almost one hour since you left. It's everything ok? The guardsman is ok?", Aegis seemed concerned. "The tyranids delayed us, but we both ok, we are heading the base", Nathaniel finished the call, only to realize you were still there, bleeding. "That... seems bad, I think I gonna had to carry you all the way back...", he grab you kindly, carrying you bride style. "You are really a pain in the ass, did you know?", his eyes were locked in the horizon, but you could see the blush forming in his cheeks...

Epilog

Nathaniel meet with his brothers at room their been using as command center. He let the radio on the table. "You found it", exclaimed captain Aegis, "Yes", answered Nathaniel. With this radio, they could finally ask for reinforces from other astartes. "Still works?", asked Aegis. "Its seem in a good state, won't difficult to repair ", said Varren, the tech marine of the group. "Great, your efforts will be great helpful, brother Nathaniel. You are dispense for now", said Aegis. Nathaniel made a respectful bow before heading in direction of the corridor. "Ah, and brother", called Aegis, "Make sure the next time you end up in a emotional argument, to turn off you vox channel, ok?", said Aegis with a smile. Nathaniel keep walking, trying to ignore his brothers giggling behind him.

#warhammer 40k #wh40k #fanfic #space marine x reader #space marines #guardsmen #deathwatch #gn reader

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gyjo-enthusiast · 1 year ago

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special case. ch.4

retired!nanami x younger!sorcerer!reader

summary: during field training, each student is assigned one semi-grade 1 or higher ranked sorcerer. after the last student is left without a mentor, her professor pairs her up with his old, retired grumpy friend.

reader is in their 20s (attending college), afab!reader, fem pronouns

tags: fluff, eventual smut, colleagues with benefits (is that a thing?), age gap (reader in early 20s, nanami in mid 30s), virgin reader

previous chapter: special case. ch.3 | next chapter: to be finished

jujutsu kaisen masterlist | masterlist

chapter summary: waking up, you find yourself on nanami's bed with his blanket still around you. what's more, you find out that today you're going to be working in a group of four sorcerers.

proofread: yes

word count: 4 825 (18m)

song rec: since the chapter are getting longer, i made a whole playlist with all the songs included. for this chapter, start at the 4th song, 'despair' by leo. and finish up the playlist:)

the golden rays of sun hit your eyes uncomfortably as your alarm goes off at an disturbingly high volume. coming to your senses, you remember that you're not in your own bedroom but rather nanami's. you can hear a commotion from his kitchen already, signaling that he's probably making breakfast.

slipping from under the blanket, memories of last night start floating in. reality catches up to you as you look over and see that you were sleeping under nanami's blanket, his other one still neatly folded, signaling that he must have slept without one. embarrassed, you try not to think about how you ended up here, since you fell asleep on his couch. instead you try your best to get ready for the day, setting nanami's shirt away for later use, folding nanami's still warm blanket and pressing it up to your chest.

as you carried the blanket to the living room sofa, you mustered up the courage to greet your mentor. "good morning," you squeaked as you watched him prepare breakfast.

"good morning, everything okay?" he asked genuinely, "you can leave the blanket on the couch." he added.

"oh, okay," almost stumbling on the way back to the table, you answered his question. "yeah i'm fine, did something happen?" you ask a question of your own, staring at his broad back.

he sighs as he turns towards you with plates in hands; quickly, you fixate your eyes on another object in the room, not to be caught glaring.

"it's nothing," nanami states, setting down two plates with scrambled eggs, veggies and bread. "just a change of plans for today. you'll be paired with another classmate and their sorcerer."

your mind goes blank, remembering that you were supposed to be quiet about who your mentor was. "and you will go as well, sir?" you ask reluctantly, not wanting to seem desperate but also wanting to spend more time with him.

"of course i will, we can't let one sorcerer handle two students at once," he replies quickly, "if that was an option, you wouldn't be here at all." you frown at that, but also thank the rules that allowed you to have nanami as your mentor.

you eat the rest of your meal in silence and you're left pondering about what exactly happened last night. and why nanami didn't bring it up at all. he seems to not care about it, almost as if he's forgotten.

on the contrary and unbeknownst to you, the memories of the earlier night keep flooding nanami's mind constantly. of course, he keeps a straight face and acts professionally but it's oh, so hard. all he can think about when he gets the chance to relax is your sweet sleeping face. though he'll be a dead man before he admits it.

"we still got about thirty minutes before we need to go," he finally says when you finish your food.

"then i'll help you with the dishes again!" you smile widely at him and how could he possibly refuse such a proposition.

you shuffle over to the sink and start scrubbing, nanami's eyes focused on you. when he grabs a plate from your hand, you get all tingly inside again, just like the day before. his fingers like a ghost on yours, feeling like they wanted to stay there, before finally letting go and drying the porcelain.

trying to ease the tension in your head, you asked: "who will we be paired with, if it's not a secret?"

"grade 1 sorcerer mei mei and with her should be your classmate itadori yuuji," he sighed, almost as if he was irritated by the two.

"oh," you exclaimed, "that's good." you knew that yuuji was a friendly guy. sometimes maybe too friendly.

"is that bad? you don't sound exactly happy," nanami looked at you through his glasses like he was staring into your soul.

"no it's nothing, he's a good guy," you reassured, continuing, "i don't know him that much but he looks.. simple. easy to understand," you laugh it off, knowing that yuuji really says what's on his mind even if it gets him into trouble.

"alright then."

the rest of the cleaning went smoothly and soon you were back in nanami's bedroom, preparing everything you needed to have on you for the upcoming day.

both you and your mentor then headed out to the meeting spot. the walk was nice, the crisp of the morning air melting away when sunshine hit your skin, no signs of rain, just small clouds on the horizon that were soon to be dissolved in the baby blue sky.

you were walking behind nanami diligently, glaring at his clothed back, hair slightly bouncing with each step. you couldn't help but think those thoughts, even if it was wrong. you were likely never going to see him again, so you might as well get a good view now.

before you knew it, you arrived at the café you were supposed to meet at and you already saw yuuji's pink head babbling something to mei mei, before he noticed you and waved at you. you gave him a small wave back and made your way over.

"good morning!" you greeted both of the sorcerers, not sure if you should introduce yourself to mei mei.

"good morning, y/n! i'm glad we'll get to be together today," yuuji beamed at you, completely ignoring nanami's presence.

your mentors also exchanged greetings and indulged in some banter before discussing where you should head for today.

"so," yuuji scooted closer to you, "what do you think will be the plan?"

"um, i think exorcising is a pretty good bet," you chuckled in his direction, "what do you think field training is for?"

"man i don't know, but i sure am glad that i got paired with you," he laughed back, earning a smidget of nanami's attention.

"yeah, same, at least we aren't stuck with some of the weirdos," you smiled at him, sparing a glance towards your mentors. seeing as nanami has his eyes fixed on you, you quickly turn your head back towards yuuji.

"and, so," you started, feeling the heavy gaze of your mentor upon you, "uh.. what did you do yesterday?" you asked casually, hoping that yuuji would go off and talk for a few minutes so you can calm yourself down.

and indeed he did, describing his fights from yesterday, punching and kicking the air and occasionally bumping his fist into your shoulder when he started laughing, a little habit of his. as he grew closer to you, nanami suddenly declared that you'll be heading out to fight a semi-grade 1 curse.

during the walk you were mentally preparing yourself, while yuuji was talking your ear off. this fight will be all focused on whether you and yuuji can cooperate even though you just had a first normal conversation with him that wasn't him begging to copy your homework.

besides the fact that you almost cut yuuji multiple times, everything went smoothly and together with yuuji's black flash, you were capable of taking the beast down without unsheating your second blade.

you were extremely happy, high-fiving yuuji when you got off the cursed spirit. "cakewalk," he proclaimed, grinning in your direction.

"brag all you want, you ain't even seen the second blade yet," you smiled back at him.

"you have a second sword? you have to show me, c'mon," yuuji jumped at you in order to find it.

"no can do mister, i only use it when there's no way back. everything has it's consequences," you explain, hoping it will get him off your back.

"wow, now i'm even more curious," he frowned and you ruffled his pink hair.

"wrap it up and let's go for lunch," you hear nanami's voice from behind and your ears perk up. yuuji notices the way you react to anything nanami does or says, but keeps it to himself. it's not his place to pry anything out of you, but he's still just as curious.

getting lunch at this time of day was hard because, well, it was lunchtime. it was packed everywhere and you were lucky to get a spot for four at a cheap restaurant.

the lunch went by as you would expect; your mentors talking together and yuuji being as obnoxious as ever. even so, you enjoyed his company, he was able to lighten up your mood when you were overthinking about nonsense.

after lunch, it was time for yet another exorcism, this time there were two curses so you split up into teams. of course the mentors were together, since they would be able to exorcise the cursed spirit earlier and look after you and yuuji in case anything happens.

the curses looked similar, almost as if they were related in some way. both had an enormous body but small heads, no neck and three eyes. the difference was that you and yuuji had to take on the one that also had a fish-like tail and two horns, which were thankfully not sharp.

yuuji, as always, went in head first, kicking the spirit's nonexistent neck so its head would fall downwards and then started playing with its tail. you unsheated severance and got to work, chipping away at the skin around it's armpits, getting it to fall down briefly as yuuji cheered you on. sparing a glance to the other side of the battlefield, you couldn't help but notice nanami's defined body as he was working his way up to the cursed spirit's eyes.

you were about to do the same, when yuuji kicked its head into the ground. bracing yourself from the impact his kick had on the cement, you couldn't believe it. not only did its armpit wounds regenerate already, but now its head was face-down in the ground with no way for you to blind it.

you shouted at yuuji to switch positions so you could slice its neck from above. before you could finish your sentence, you heard a blood curdling scream from the other cursed spirit. you assumed it was defeated and continued, signaling yuuji to get down, but he seemed freaked out.

all of a sudden, the curse before you shot up its head, stood up on all fours again and started smacking at you. you tried to get away, however during the smacking the beast swiped severance out of your hand and it got stuck in the nearby building.

you looked over to your mentors who were already almost done with the first curse, the scream probably being its last battlecry to enhance both of their fighting abilities.

with no other choice left, you slowly unsheated foulblade from beneath your cloak. both deep and prickly pain revertebrated throughout your head and down to your spine and the hand in which your sword was held. your hand started turning deep russian violet.

yuuji noticed this and wanted to jump down to help you, but you immediately stopped him.

"yuuji just.. just keep the thing in place!" you shouted up at him, slowly gaining control over the blade.

as you glared into the cursed spirit's eyes, you quickly sprinted towards it, slashing at it from multiple angles at once. your body felt like it was moving on autopilot. finaly, you cut off its front legs and with a final blow exorcised it.

when you were done, you fell to your knees, dropping foulblade by your side. you quickly searched for it so you could put it away before anybody else could get hurt.

"y/n!" yuuji shouted in your direction, making haste to get down from the cursed spirit's remains.

but before he could get to you, you already felt a pair of arms around you, allowing you to relax. you were finally able to let go, your tense body loosening. your hand was slowly turning back to normal as you felt someone take it into their own.

"it's okay, i'll take it from here," you faintly heard nanami's voice from besides as your world faded to black.

you hear steps in the distance. your body is swaying limply. the steps are coming to you. no, your hearing is coming back to you. the steps have always been there. as you regain your senses slowly, you realise that nanami is carrying you on his back.

"uhn.. nanami," you're still out of it, he realises, but he can't ignore how pretty his name sounds on your lips.

"don't worry about it, i'll carry you, alright?" he responds, as if he knew what was worrying you.

"i can walk," you slur out, obviously not being able to walk, but you don't want to make more trouble than necessary.

"you can't, i said don't worry," he repeats, insisting on letting you rest. "if you really don't want this then you can walk by yourself, we're almost there," nanami reassures you.

"okay," you sqeak out, still hesitant about the situation you found yourself in. "did you get my blade, sir? it was stuck in the wall of the building," you remember all of a sudden, wondering whether severance was left behind or if it was retrieved.

"i have it, i need you to have a cursed tool that doesn't make you end up like this," he says rather plainly, but you can hear concern hidden behind his words.

"oh.. i understand that. thank you for retrieving it, sir," you reply, letting your head fall down on his back.

"and you can call me by my name, y/n, no need to be so formal," this statement makes your cheeks flaming hot, it was the last thing you expected from a man so professional. you bury your head further into his back, making nanami smile softly.

the stroll to his apartment was soon over as you recognised the now familiar building. nanami fished his keys out of his pocket while still keeping you balanced on his back, opening the front door. you slowly slipped out of his grasp and stood besides him.

"are you alright? can you stand?" he looked over to you, lending you a hand.

"yeah, i'm fine," you bluntly responded, gripping his arm as you two made your way to the elevator and finally the door to his apartment.

nanami guided you to the couch sat you down, letting you unwind. "do you want some tea?" he offered, looking down at you tenderly.

"yes, please. but," you continued, straining to get back up, "i should at least take a shower. and change into something clean."

"you can take a shower in the morning, i don't want you drowning on me," he protested, getting two cups from the cabinet. "you can go change but be careful, please." glancing at you, he sent you to his bedroom, attentively watching you if you happened to fall over.

you let out a relieved sigh, finally making it to the bed and taking off your school uniform, changing into your shorts and nanami's shirt. after a while, you made your way back to the living room, careful not to stumble over anything.

with your head finally clearing up, you sat on the couch, nanami bringing the tea over to you. "do you take sugar? or milk?" he asked politely. when you shook your head no, he sat down next to you and handed you the warm drink.

"thank you," you peeped out, cautious not to spill the contents of your cup. slowly blowing on the hot liquid to cool it down, nanami's next question made you freeze.

"so, what exactly is going on with that second cursed tool?" he looked over to you, paying attention to any and all changes in your behaviour. "it's okay if you don't want to answer, i'm just worried," he cleared up, making sure you know he's not forcing you into saying anything you're uncomfortable sharing with him.

"i.. honestly i don't know myself," you responded quietly, truthfully. "it was like this from the beginning, i think maybe my body can't handle it, that's why i only use it in dire situations," your eyes fall down to the cup sitting in your hands, looking at the hazy reflection of yourself.

"it's alright, but i'd rather you not use it anymore. if you run into any trouble, you should know that i will help you," your mentor reassured you, taking a sip of his own tea. "do you want to watch something?" he figured it would ease your mind if you were able to focus on something else than the events of today.

"um yeah, sure," you nervously agree, offering him the remote, "you can choose anything. i'm too indecisive," he smiles warmly at you as he takes the remote from your hand.

nanami switches between random channels before giving up and settling on the news. he sets the remote and his cup down on the glass table, reaching behind you for the blanket you accidentally stole from him yesterday, before wrapping it around you.

"oh," you exclaim, not wanting to make him do more work for you again, "i'm okay, you don't need to-"

"your hands are freezing, y/n," he cuts you off before continuing, "stop worrying about what others do for you. if i did not want to help, i simply wouldn't." taking off his glasses, he looks at you once more, making his point clear.

"alright," you utter, bringing your knees to your chest and warming yourself up in his blanket once again.

you both watch the news quietly, sitting through the weather forecast next. as the ads start rolling, you begin to feel better, wanting to engage in conversation.

"what was the point of being paired up with yuuji and ms. mei mei anyways?" you ask, seemingly out of the blue.

"well, it was to see whether you could cooperate with others. not only you of course, all of the students were paired up." nanami explains, wearing a stoic expression on his face.

"is that it?" you were feeling suspicious, so you continued, "since they could just accidentally pair up students that were good friends and already had chemistry in battle," you bite your lip, knowing that you were one of the few people that didn't have much friends in school. "i'm sorry if i'm reading into this too much."

"you're not, don't worry. the truth is that because a lot of sorcerers are away or participating in this training, higher grade curses can accumulate rather quickly," he presents you the details of the situation. "that's why we wanted to see if two lower grade students were able to exorcise cursed spirits such as these."

"so you wanted to watch and give feedback without intervening," you ponder for a while, thinking about why your mentors didn't help during your fights. "that's pretty smart when i look back at it."

"i can't say i enjoyed it, exactly. but yes, it's better than being preoccupied in a fight and having to give feedback at the same time," nanami reaches out for the remote to lower the volume a bit so you could continue your conversation without borderline yelling.

"you didn't enjoy it?" you sadden up a bit, thinking your technique was off, "what was so bad about it? i had fun, i think."

"for starters, i don't want you ending up like this again," he looks at your hand and takes it in his, the faintest shades of purple still remaining. the contact makes your skin heat up as goosebumps roll down your back simultaneously.

"and secondly, if everybody in your class is like itadori, i don't know how you're holding up," he finishes up his rant and you swear you saw a vein pop up on his neck when he thought about the pink haired boy.

"no, i would say that itadori is one of the better guys in our class," you chuckle, "he's just really friendly."

"a bit too much i would say," nanami retorts, his fist almost crushing the remote he's still holding. "you said you don't know him at all."

"yeah, i talked to him a few times but we aren't best buds or anything," you agree with the statement you made during breakfast, wondering whether you did anything that would upset your mentor.

"well he seemed like he knew you very well," his eyebrows grew together before he could calm himself down.

"n-nanami.." his name still felt weird on your lips, "he probably just wanted to have good teamwork. who would want to be on bad terms when they have to cooperate, right?" you tried to explain on yuuji's behalf.

nanami sighed, switching the tv channel to some random true crime movie. "right. i still don't like him," he exhaled, hanging his head backwards on the back of the couch.

you watched his tired eyes fixate on the ceiling and his messy hair fall out of his face. "yeah, he's a bit much for my own liking, too." you agreed with him, mouth staying a bit agape as you watched his adam's apple bob when he swallowed his saliva. time was passing by as the television just produced background noise, allowing your fantasies to take over.

his coat was discarded as the fabric of his blue shirt wrapped tightly around his body, buttons seemingly about to burst. the first button was undone and his tie was loosened, exposing his pale neck and the slightest sliver of what lied underneath.

"what is it?" nanami suddenly sounded, turning his head towards you, still resting it on the sofa. at that moment, you realised you were staring at him and he knew the whole time, allowing you to do so nonetheless.

you swiftly lifted your cup to your face and diverted your gaze, "nothing."

"out with it, go on," he lifted his head up and ran a hand through his hair, weariness invading his expression.

"i just," you stopped, obviously trying to come up with a believable lie, "i was wondering why you didn't like yuuji?"

the thought of yuuji being on your mind made nanami visibly frustrated. he had his reasons and it was not your place to ask such questions, but you had to say something in order to not seem suspicious.

"does my opinion matter to you that much?" he asks, his tone almost warning you of what's going to come next.

you nod your head, further explaining, "of course, what if he was assigned to you and you could not stand each other? that would be a problem, no?" you couldn't picture the idea of nanami having a troublesome classmate like yuuji to train, but it was a point to make.

he sighed again, giving you an answer, "to put it simply, i did not like the way he was acting towards you." he tried to remain professional as always, but there was a coin flipping inside of his head and he did not yet know whether he'd be able to keep his words for himself.

"what do you mean?" your head tilted to the side slightly, confused. "he was just friendly."

"don't play dumb, y/n," nanami suddenly proclaimed, leaning forwards as his elbows rested on his knees. "i think you saw how he looked at you. he was more than just friendly." the coin flipping in his head was going crazy, knowing that it's not his place to tell you who to be friends with but also wanting you to see how you're making him feel.

"yeah maybe," you finally admitted both to him and to yourself, quietly muttering "not like i'd date a guy like him anyways."

nanami's heart dropped all the weight it's been carrying and with one flip of the coin, his professional attitude almost disappeared.

"i'm glad to hear you say that," he smiles at you sincerely. "you deserve better than him," he glanced your way before directing his attention to the television.

"well," you started, a slight blush appearing on the apples of you cheeks, "i'm pleased you think so." both yours and nanami's façade were starting to drop, it was just a matter of who was going to crack first.

"of course i would think that, you're a good person and a magnificent sorcerer. and i don't say this lightly," it came out as a warning, almost to let you know that whenever nanami would compliment your skills, it was honest and not out of politeness.

"thank you, sir- nanami," you quickly corrected yourself, not being used to adressing your mentor by his name, "i'm sorry."

"it's alright, you can adress me however you want," nanami reassured you, eyes still fixated on the tv, fighting the urge to look at you.

"no, it's just that.. i'm not used to it yet," you respond honestly, mustering up the courage to voice the next sentence. "truthfully, i really like your name."

this makes the blonde freeze on the spot as it was the last thing he ever expected hearing from you. the coin in his head falls flat with one last flip, making him abandon his professionalism. you watch intently, almost being able to see the cogs turning in his brain.

finally, he exhaled and took a long look into your eyes. "are you sure you're feeling better?" his voice, deeper than before, sounded over the television.

"yes, why would i not be?" you asked back, confused. he inhaled deeply, before straightening his posture. "did i say something wrong, nanami?"

"you know," he started, resting the remote on the table, "i really like my name as well." you chuckled at him, the pressure falling off when you realised you didn't do anything to make him feel bad. "though it's only when you're the one saying it."

your eyes widened at him, mouth shut tight. only in this situation did reality hit you at full speed. you were sitting with your retired mentor on his couch, in his clothes and blanket. nanami's hair was messy from the earlier fighting, one hand hooked behind the back of the sofa, other resting on his muscular thigh, eyes fixed on yours, awaiting your reaction to his statement.

you looked down, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap, before speaking up. "nanami?" it came out as almost a whisper, unsure of yourself, you shifted closer to the man.

"yes?" he responded curtly, eyes momentarily flicking down to your lips before catching your stare again.

"who is better than yuuji?" you hesitate for a moment, blurting out a "who do i deserve?"

nanami smiles at you, shifting closer to you as well. "do you want me to show you?"

not finding your voice, you only nodded and in that moment, nanami slowly started inching towards you.

his journey to you felt impossibly long as you could feel his breath overlapping with yours. your gaze drifting between his eyes and lips, waiting for what felt like eternity for him to crash into you. one of his hands found yours and squeezed it lightly as he smiled gently. your patience, however, was wearing thin. not being able to withstand the pressure anymore, you closed your eyes and brushed your lips past his, making the first move.

nanami's other hand sneaked up to your cheek, caressing it lightly before returning the kiss fully. his lips were soft, moving tenderly along your own chapped ones, setting an unrushed pace which you were to savour. your hand, now almost fully back to normal, went to feel the one settled on your cheek, when suddenly a sharp pain stopped you.

nanami noticed and withdrew from you, scanning your face for any signs of discomfort.

"i'm sorry, it's the hand," you apologized sheepishly, looking up at him with cloudy eyes.

"is it acting up?" he asked and took it into his own hands, giving it a kiss. you only blushed and nodded. "you should rest, let's finish the movie," nanami suggested, wrapping the bits of blanket that fell back around you.

"alright, thank you," you smiled at him and started paying attention to the tv.

after a while, your head fell softly on nanami's shoulder and your breathing stabilised, signaling to him that once more, you fell asleep on the couch, wrapped in his blanket.

he waited for the movie to end and, like the night before, carried you to the bedroom. he gently set you down on the bed, making sure you're in a comfortable position.

just as he was about to kiss your forehead, you woke up and gripped his hand.

"go to sleep, y/n," he beckoned, not wanting to disturb you anymore.

"mmh," you grumbled drowsily, "stay here."

"that would be unprofessional, i'm still your mentor for this week," he argued, as if he already forgot about the kiss you two shared an hour ago.

"please, nanami," you pleaded, not even bothering to open your eyes.

for the nth time today, he sighed out. "alright, let me change first."

#nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #x reader #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #Spotify

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holyblanchett · 5 months ago

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I get so mad knowing that aaa was the only chance of Agatha truly having a show about her, it was dirty cheap and nobody expected to be a hit. JS had the chance of making a tremendous limited series very much focused on her character and instead we got everything is about Billy show even her death was about him, they changed Nicky from the comics so that he was a boy who died young because the only thing we need to know about Agatha is that she’s a mother and there is Billy.

I get why so many are grateful for her for creating Agathario she didn’t have to do it and wlw fans don’t have a lot of options but the way most fall all over her like it wasn’t her choice not to explore that relationship because *check notes* she didn’t think people would be interested is ridiculous. At least 90% of their relationship was thanks to the actresses’ talent and chemistry, one of the only times she was being honest was when she said she didn’t have to do anything she could just leave and I guess she did lol probably to think up more headcanons in the writers rooms because it was SO important to her that their relationship was so evident to everyone (it wasn’t)

In the end pretty much everything about Agatha that isn’t about Billy just wasn’t important enough to be on screen for reasons and IF there is more and it’s getting less and less likely in our current environment it’s the Wiccan show featuring ghost Agatha as his sidekick. I still smh when I remembered that when people complained about e6 being the longest and literally all about Billy they mentioned Monica’s ep like Wanda was EVER a supporting character in her own show.

And let's be honest, Monica's episode ate down and if anyone thinks otherwise they're just a hater. I feel like the main difference is with Wandavision we knew their relationship would be a focal point. Meanwhile in a3, Agatha was used to introduce Billy and fix the shit show that was MOM. Its almost as if marvel execs are incapable of seeing older women as anything but traumatized mothers and let's be real, their treatment of their female characters is deep rooted in decades of misogyny but thats a post for another day.

I think overall people were upset about ep6 because it was right after Agatha's thirty minute trial where we got to see first hand how abusive Evanora was. But ofc there's no need to address Agatha's trauma or the fact that she heard her dead sons voice after centuries. No, LETS MAKE THE EPISODE ABOUT BILLY AND DO A BIG REVEAL. AND YOU KNOW WHAT?? AFTER THAT LETS DEDICATE AN ENTIRE EPISODE TO HIM AFTERWARDS AND NEVER ADDRESS EVANORA OR NICKY RETURNING. HAHA YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE GETTING ANSWERS??

Anyways sorry for yelling don't know what came over me. 😭

#agatha all along #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #marvel #marvel tv #billy maximoff #agatha harkness #evanora harkness #nicholas scratch

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 months ago

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Hanley Waters: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: Evaluations are here, and Hotch needs to make sure where everywhere is after Emily's death. You were able to busy yourself with the case in Tampa, but now you have to face reality and speak your mind.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal deaths/kills from the show, I will list them.

And happen it did. Not even hours later, there is another shooting. This time, it's at one of the checkpoints that the police have set up all over town. Only one officer was shot and another was nearly run down by the unsub. She was stopped and wasn't pulling forward so the officer who was shot approached her car. From what you can see on her face that's becoming clearer every time you connect with her energy, she's in full panic mode. Not panic like she'll get caught but panic for someone else. Panic like a mother would have.

The officer tried getting her out of the car when she shot him and almost ran over the other officer.

"The officer is in critical condition."

"Did anyone get a plate?"

"No, just a partial description. Teal green wagon. This woman opens fire in broad daylight at a police checkpoint."

Hotch takes out his phone and calls Penelope.

"She's desperate. This was an act of survival. Where does this road lead?" Rossi asks.

"I-275. Florida Highway Patrol has traffic cams all the way to St. Pete. She won't get far."

"Two EMTs just got shot in Oakford Park," Hotch says.

"Where is that?"

"It's the opposite direction. She went back?"

"She's on a mission."

"Hotch, I think she's a mother. She's hurting like she lost something no mother should ever have to lose. A child," you say.

"I think you're right."

You head back to the station with Hotch, Rossi, and Thiers to meet up with the rest of the team.

"Her emotional turmoil appears to be manifesting in the geographic pattern of her spree. There's a reason why she hasn't left." Spencer pulls out the map he's been working on. "Her first was the gun store in west Tampa, then the security guard in Ybor City, then the officer at the checkpoint in Riverside Heights, then finally the EMTs in Oakford Park."

"There's no logic. She circled back after getting through a roadblock. She's driven purely by emotion. She doesn't care about self-preservation or escape. It's like she has nothing to live for."

"She suffered a loss and she's blaming someone else for it," you say. "My guess is she lost a child whether that be in death or because the child was taken from her."

There is enough for a profile, so Chief Thiers gathers his men and women to hear what your team has to say.

"We're looking for a white female between the ages of thirty and forty driving a teal green station wagon. The only thing that matters is her behavior which is random. She's all over the place. She could have escaped through that roadblock, but she circled back instead. This tells us she's got a score to settle. Here. Today."

"Like what?" Chief Thiers asks.

"When emotional decisions drive an unsub, it's usually connected to an incredible loss, the idea that there's nothing to live for. We believe that this woman's been through the devastating loss of a child," Hotch says.

"She woke up this morning, loaded up with bullets, and stole a gun. That is not a typical Wednesday. Today means something to her. She's been lashing out at the hero, and we believe that's because she feels deeply betrayed by the one who let her down."

"The fact that her anger seems to be focused on first responders instead of hospital personnel or doctors indicates that her child probably didn't die of natural causes. Most likely it was some kind of accident. If so, she believes he should have been saved but wasn't," you explain. "Rage like this has been built up over time, possibly years. It's debilitating. She probably hasn't been a functioning member of society since the loss of her child."

"This rampage was her final attempt to be heard. What she started ends today."

Not to your surprise, there are reports of another shooting, and Hotch puts the news on the TV.

"Police say this dangerous suspect has left a trail of blood behind her. After wounding an officer at a roadblock, she circled back and fired at two paramedics. Luckily she missed, keeping her body count at five. A source inside the Tampa PD told us FBI profilers have been brought in to help witht he investigation."

"We need to try to communicate with this woman directly," Hotch says.

"She's not talking. She's just shooting."

"She feels ignored," you say. "The media is sensationalizing the story. She'll continue to respond violently to regain control."

"She shot a cop. The men she's targeted are my responsibility."

"You asked for our help. Let us do our job." Hotch looks at you. "I want you to talk to her."

"Me?"

"You're our best bet. She's emotional and no one knows emotions better than you."

He's right but that doesn't mean you have to like it. Still, you put on a brave face and stand in front of the press once the conference is called. Hotch stands next to you as a sort of moral support, but this one is all on you.

"My name is Y/N with the FBI. Our team has come from Quantico, Virginia because we want to talk to you. We know that you have a personal message that you need to share with the world. All we ask is that you stop hurting people because we are listening." You look up from the cards and decide just to speak from the heart. "I know you're hurting like no one should be hurting. No mother should have to go through what you're going through. I need you to know that you are not alone. I know right now it seems like the whole world is against you but we're not. You see him everywhere, don't you? You hear him calling out to you. I'm here to tell you that it's normal to feel what you're feeling but if you don't want to feel this pain anymore, please call us at 1-800-555-0140. We will help you."

"Aren't we gonna get flooded by people calling that number?" Ashley asks from the sidelines.

"I am hawkeyeing the cell towers in her comfort zone. If anyone calls from there, I will know first and fast," Penelope responds.

An hour passes, then it turns to two. You're sitting in the police station trying your best to focus on the case. It's hard when all that's on your mind is Emily.

"There have been no leads on the hotline and no sign of her vehicle," Chief Thiers sighs.

"This woman obviously has a plan. The only clear decision she made this morning was walking into that gun store. There are eight of them in her comfort zone. Why choose that one?"

"Convinence," Ashley shrugs. "Maybe it's close to where she lives."

"If we're saying this morning is when she was the most clear-headed, then it was a conscious decision to walk into that particular store."

Penelope calls and Derek patches her through on speakerphone.

"I have hundreds of teal wagons. None of the registrations match the physical description of our unsub."

"What about the gun store?"

"I searched the entire history of Larry's gun shop. Nothing of significance has ever happened there aside from this morning's massacre. On top of that, those six hundred plus registered .38 owners bought them all over the city, so we're pretty much screwed unless you can think of some other kind of connection."

"This date means something to her. Pen, we profiled that it was a major loss. Run accident reports. Look for young victims. She seems to be going after heros like paramedics."

"I'm doing that now, but this will take forever. Tampa's got almost half a million people. Everybody's got a story. How am I even supposed to..." She pauses. "Oh. My superskills just squelched my pessimism. I have a couple of accidents here that happened in the last few years on or around today's date. Please hold while I deduce. This looks promising. Okay, there was a high-speed traffic chase in West Tampa last year. A policeman was killed."

"Who were they chasing?"

"Hanley Waters."

"Maybe he's the target."

"Can't be. He's in jail. He started a whole mess because he decided to do an armed robbery at a liquor store, and then have a high-speed car chase with the cops. Oh, there's video. It's three hundred and sixty-five days ago to the dot. I'm sending this to your tablets. Observe and prepare yourself."

You grab a tablet and watch the high speed chase from an arial view. Hanley runs a red light and smashes into a car that is in the middle of the intersection going a different direction.

"Who got hit?"

"Shelly Chamberlain. She was unhurt. Her six-year-old Damion died."

"That's her," you say.

"Today is... Damion's birthday."

"Your son enters and leaves your life on the same date. That's one hell of a stressor," Rossi sighs. "It explains why she went on her spree today. All the good and bad memories are hitting her at once."

"To add salt to it all, the fallen policeman was the only one who got any attention. Damion was like a footnote."

"If Shelly is our unsub and the man who caused this is in jail, then who's her target?"

"It might be Damion's father," you say. "If I had to guess, they were a happy family before this. She got hit and lost her son, and that ruined her marriage. They get divorced and he moves on while she's still stuck in the past. She's angry at her ex-husband for doing what she can't. It's just a guess though."

"It's a good guess," Hotch says. "Garcia, what's Shelly's marital status?"

"Don Chamberlain, city firefighter. He filed for divorce three months ago."

"He could be the next target of her rage, the man who didn't bear witness to her grief."

"Morgan and Y/N, you find him. Dave and I will go to Shelly's house."

Hotch and Rossi find the box of bullets that Shelly owns, but Don must have taken the gun when he moved out. Not only that, but the mirrors in the house have all been smashed. She can't stand to look at herself. She's guilty for surviving when her son didn't. She's got tired of waking up to feeling guilt, worthlessness, and hopelessness.

Though, her son's room is immaculate. Nothing has been touched. She can't bear to walk into that room. She can't let go.

When you get to Don's house with Spencer and Derek, you see Shelly's car in the driveway but Don's car is gone. She must have left with him somewhere.

"She beats us here and moved with him in his car. Why didn't she just kill him? She didn't travel with any of her other victims," you say.

"He must play some part in the fantasy of her rage. She wants to punish him for something."

You head inside and frown at the lack of pictures around. Don really doesn't want to remember the past.

"There is not a single reminder of Damion anywhere in this house. Do you think Don moved on already?"

"Would you after a year?" you ask.

"Look at this." You and Derek look at Spencer who is playing something on the TV. It's a video of the family including Damion. There is music where there should be talking. He most likely did it to cover his wife's voice. "Don edited it together and he put music to it. This is how he grieved."

"Yeah, but she wouldn't know that. She might force him to grieve the same way she does."

"Where? Their son's grave?" With a little more digging around, you come across a box of memories, all with Damion. Movie stub tickets, pictures, toys he loved. Everything about him. "Look at this." Inside is a bunch of receipts for the same restaurant. "It looks like they celebrated their son's third, fourth, and fifth birthday at Sir Burger."

"Her day is coming to an end, and today's an anniversary. That's gotta be where she's going. Let's go."

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite

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deconstructthesoup · 5 months ago

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Some more thoughts and considerations for the Dead Boy Detectives noir AU (original post here):

-I've decided that this takes place in 1935, which means that Edwin and Charles will both be, well, thirty-five---if we're setting this story in the early twentieth century, it only seems fair that Edwin should still have been born in 1900, and Charles should be around his age. The differences in the way that Edwin and Charles talk come down more to their differences in upbringing, as Edwin grew up in a posh family and Charles's family was more working-class. (I think the girls, by contrast, are probably in their late twenties---less experience than the boys, but with just as much grit.)

-Honestly, the timeline works out perfectly, because it's endlessly easy to replace the "Edwin was in Hell" storyline with a "Edwin was in WWI" storyline. I think he got drafted as soon as he was of age---early in 1918, since he's a January boy---and managed to hold on for those final eleven months before the war finally ended. He still has nightmares and flashbacks from that time, and while he doesn't pretend that he's not affected by it, he doesn't really let people help him through it. (Charles managed to avoid the draft due to running away from home on his eighteenth birthday, and it's pretty difficult to sign up for the military when you're a missing person.)

-Since Edwin and Charles are a) alive, and b) well into their thirties in this story, their agency is simply called "Payne & Rowland Investigations." There was much debate over whose name should go first, but they wound up settling on just going by alphabetical order.

-Tragic Mick runs a pawn shop about a block away from the agency, and while he's very much the kind of guy who likes to keep his head down and stay out of other people's business, he also happens to be kind and calming enough that people wind up telling him their stories anyway, which means that he usually knows a lot of random little secrets. Edwin and Charles tend to visit him whenever they're in need of a lead on a new case, and while Tragic Mick knows better than to give them anything too specific, the little tidbits he offers usually send them in the right direction.

-The Night Nurse is the head editor at Crystal's paper, and the one who keeps her on the society pages instead of letting her take the more investigative side of things. This is mainly because she's very focused on making sure that the paper continues to receive funding and doesn't ruffle any bigwig's feathers, but it's also because the Night Nurse doesn't really take Crystal that seriously---she's got movie stars for parents and still has hints of her "spoiled rich girl" past in the way she interacts with the world, so she genuinely believes that writing about society gossip is where Crystal's talents are best served.

-While Niko's perfectly happy with her job as a secretary, especially since Edwin and Charles have no problem inviting her onto the cases, she dreams of someday becoming a well-known novelist, and is more than a little inspired by her adventures with the detectives when it comes to actually getting her stories down. In fact, I've actually been toying with the idea that that's how she and Crystal met---they were college roommates who had the same writing class, Niko kept on attempting to bond with Crystal despite her very much being in her mean, party-girl era, and after Crystal wound up in an incredibly harmful relationship and realized that she needed to pull the plug, Niko helped her through it, cementing their status as genuine friends. And, well... maybe, throughout the years, they wound up becoming something a little bit more.

-Jenny is the bartender at the Cat King's nightclub---which I'm still debating a name for, though I am leaning towards "Pussycat" because, well, reasons---and she also happens to be his closest friend, in that achellian/sapphic solidarity way where you're bitching at each other constantly but unquestionably have each other's backs. They've known each other for years, they're in business together, she did a lot of the bootlegging during Prohibition... hell, they even got married for tax benefits, even though both of them are very open and honest about their sexualities. And unfortunately for Charles, Jenny is very tight-lipped about the Cat King's secrets.

-Charles was the first person that Edwin came out to, when they were sixteen, and he was also one of the only people in Edwin's life to accept that part of him unconditionally. On the flip side, Charles has always assumed that he was straight, but in the past year or so, he's been questioning his sexuality... and though Edwin knows about this, Charles still hasn't told him that he's part of the reason he had that realization. As it stands, they're only partners in the business sense---though, that'll be changing soon if their secretary and her reporter friend have anything to say about it.

-Anything I tell you about Esther and Monty is a spoiler. I might wind up writing this. You must not know.

-I've been debating whether or not I want to include the original characters I made for Put Your Records On in this story to better flesh out the world---at the very least, include Cecil and their girlfriend Alice, since they seem to have backdoored their way into becoming Dead Boy Detectives OCs---and I'm still not quite sure. I mean, for one, it'd be cool to have, say, Laura as a librarian who helps the detective agency out with research every now and then, but on the other hand, they're all very much tailored to that specific story... so, I guess you'll just have to see. (Though, I have an excellent idea for Arasha that I don't think I can ignore.)

And that's what I got for now!

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #payneland #crystal palace #niko sasaki #tragic mick #the night nurse #jenny green #esther finch #monty finch #palaski #the cat king #crowcat #noir au

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ughtyrell · 8 months ago

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Brief comments the Hargreeves siblings give on Vanya's new book, Extra Ordinary my life as Number Seven, to street interviewers/paparazzi.

Where a tabloid takes comments from the siblings and paint Vanya as a sociopath.

"I hate it. It's a disgusting book but not surprising. Vanya's always been vindictive like that. Instead of, I don't know. Focusing on how much of an abusive maniac Reginald was she decided to make a burn book of the other abused kids in his household and cry about how we were mean to her. How we ignored her. As if we didn't have our entire day and nights scheduled by Reginald. Did you know we had thirty minutes of free time a week? Thirty minutes. Sorry we didn't cater to you in that time Vanya. Whatever. I don't even want to give her anymore of my time of day. It'll just encourage her. Leave me alone."

-Diego Hargreeves, Number Two.

"Are you going to pay me for answering these questions? If not then I have places to be, well mostly. Okay fine fine! Vanyas book? Hahaha yeah what a shit show, would love it because fuck dad yeah! He probably hates it. But hard to admire something written about how jealous someone is about your shit childhood and the abuse you went through. Like, wow, rude much? I'd give anything to not have gone through what we did. To not have this curse on me that makes my life a living nightmare and got the attention of a madman who bought me and then turned my childhood into drill sargents wet dream.

Oh Diego said that? Yeah yeah it was true. Little van can hold a grudge and will make you pay for it ten fold. We weren't really allowed around her you know? When we were little Dad said she was fragile, she was sensitive and we weren't allowed to upset her. And then, well, it became too much of a risk to be around little Vanny. Not with dad's hawkeyes on us waiting for us to mess up. If seven so much as frowned around one of us we'd get a lecture about how we aren't supposed to upset our sister. And God forbid we accidentally made her cry. Dad's cane really packs a hit. And I think seven realized that because if we did do something she didn't like, tears were a easy way to make us regret it. But that was when we were really young. Before she got sick. Then she was gone for a while and when she came back dad said she was better but not to bother her and truth be told, none of us really wanted too. The image of her dead stare as we got caned because of her never really went away. Dad did stop caning us if she was upset after she came back but we had other things to worry about then. This is really killing my vibe. Can you just pay me now?"

-Klaus Hargreeves, Number Four.

"Listen, I love my sister and if she felt she needed to write that book fine. She was abused too but in a different way, she was pushed away. I just wished she tried to understand our position too instead of making us her villains in her life and book. We were all abused by dad, now enough- how do you know about that. Klaus? Of course. Vanya was sick as a kid okay? She was maybe a bit cruel but dad got her meds. She's better now. It wasn't her fault dad caned us. Well. Maybe sometimes she did put on tears to get the boys in trouble and never seemed sorry about that. But as I said. She's better now. She has medication and gets therapy for things like that. Hopefully her therapist can help her sort through these feelings that made her write the book as well. Now leave us alone."

-Allison Hargreeves, Number Three.

"Dad did what he thought was best for us. He told us Vanya couldn't handle it and I agree with him. She was safer away than with us. Sorry if that hurt number sevens feelings enough to write a book. Now get off our property."

-Luther Hargreeves, Number One.

Follow up interviews:

"I told you I don't want to give any more time to Number seven. But I will say one thing. I hope that this stupid, selfish book she wrote isn't giving any of my other siblings trouble. But I know that's a lie because it's already effecting how people see me. They either look at me with pity or wonder how I could be mean to one of my siblings enough for them to write a book. Like I could've been nice at all in a house like Hargreeves. Kindness wasn't something you could afford in a house like that. It was a survival challenge. We survived, not all of us, Ben and Five weren't so lucky but I thought the rest of us all had a unspoken agreement to never speak of it again. To leave it in the past. We don't even speak to each other anymore. But leave it up to Number seven to pick out the thing that would hurt us most for her revenge."

-Diego Hargreeves, Number Two.

"You're back again? Leave me alone. I've already had such a shit day and I keep hearing about this book. A book I bought with my own money just to get shit on and harassed for. I could've used that money for fun times, you know like the useless junkie I am as my dear sister put it. Instead I got a book with some of my most private moments from childhood used against me and people like you wanting to question me. Listen. I didn't mean to paint Vanya as some evil psycho child. I was just rambling. It was true what I said mind you but she got better okay. Well maybe not better because obviously she got issues with us and stuff. Maybe we should've checked on her but honestly we couldn't even check on ourselves never mind little quiet Vanya who's job was to observe us and report to dad. Ugh! I don't want to talk about any of this. I thought she said I was just a junkie on the streets, why listen to me?"

-Klaus Hargreeves, Number Four.

"Please just leave me and my family alone. I said I love my sister and she was sick. Not demented and cruel! You people are vultures. Do I talk to any of my siblings? No. Once we left the house we didn't keep in contact with each other. Easier that way to close that chapter in our lives. So just leave me alone."

-Allison Hargreeves, Number Three.

"Do I need to call the police? I don't care about Vanya's book. She wrote it, a lot of it was either her victim complex or, or. Like Allison said, Vanya was sick, maybe she's still sick I don't know. She doesn't call. None of them do and the house number hasn't ever changed. If she wants to talk about her book she can call, if anyone wants to talk, they can call. But they haven't and they probably won't and I don't got anything to say either so get off the property before we have a problem."

-Luther Hargreeves, Number One.

This idea just wouldn't leave my head. The siblings remembering not Vanya's powers but her attitude when she had them and how they made her come off. They don't remember why Sir Reginald was so strict with keeping Vanya calm, he didn't want Vanya accidentally or not, killing off one of his to be team. They only remember the harsh punishments of upsetting Vanya and therefore risking themselves. Whether or not Vanya would've hurt them? I don't know know. But Reginald didn't want to chance it.

This also makes me curious about Vanyas reaction to these comments made of her by her own siblings. Dealing with the backlash this tabloid has caused her and her book. The questions people would ask. The now doubt in her writing if it was genuine or another opportunity to have a dig at her siblings? Does she have a victim complex? Narcissism maybe? The worst is when Vanya's therapist asks if she ever wanted to hurt her siblings for ignoring her?

Also I don't know how not to post drafts it seems because I keep accidently posting em when I just want to edit them

#vanya hargreeves #tua au #hargreeves siblings #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy au #tua fic #ty ideas

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sparkymalone · 1 year ago

Text

Okay, so remember how it was Kazuichi's birthday like... two weeks ago? Well, here's that birthday fic, lmao.

This took a long time just because life kept getting in the way. Hopefully the quality didn't suffer. Please enjoy~

A Sonsoudam Birthday Special!

Rating: Here be smut.

Word Count: 4593

So far, Kazuichi's birthday left a lot to be desired.

His parents hadn't done anything for him, which was fine. He didn't expect them to, since they never did. His mother had at least texted him to wish him ‘happy birthday,’ so that was nice.

Kazuichi had looked forward to spending the day with his friends much more. Hajime had made plans with some of the others to take Kazuichi out for the day. The mechanic was thrilled, since he didn't have a lot of good birthday memories.

They met up at a fast food restaurant Kazuichi liked. Most of his class was there, and the knowledge that that many people wanted to celebrate his birthday warmed his heart. He ended up crying awkwardly on Hajime's shoulder until Fuyuhiko grumpily shoved him away from his boyfriend.

Still, lunch had been nice. There was plenty of fun conversation and good, greasy food. Kazuichi had a pretty good time.

After that, several of his classmates had to leave, claiming they had other plans. Kazuichi wasn't bothered by it. He didn't need a big group to celebrate the rest of his birthday.

The remaining group decided to go see a movie. There was a new action flick out that Kazuichi was dying to see, so when Hajime suggested they go, he excitedly agreed. They made their way to the theater, got their tickets and snacks, and took their seats.

Kazuichi enjoyed the movie, but he began feeling like the odd man out part way through. He was unsurprised that Hajime ended up making out with his boyfriend for most of the film, since he and Fuyuhiko were usually all over each other when they thought no one was looking. Sonia and Gundham weren't kissing, thankfully, but they were still sitting rather close together, and Kazuichi felt his usual twinge of jealousy.

Honestly, he probably would've felt like a total fifth wheel if none of his other friends were there. Nekomaru and Chiaki were sitting between Kazuichi and Sonia, and he was thankful for the obstruction so he couldn't see his beloved princess cuddling with her boyfriend.

Unfortunately, that didn't last. Chiaki fell asleep almost immediately, slouched in her seat. Nekomaru left about thirty minutes into the movie, announcing his need to use the restroom. Kazuichi sighed, knowing he wasn't coming back.

That basically left Kazuichi alone with the two happy couples. He tried not to think about it or feel lonely, instead focusing on the movie. For the most part, he was able to ignore the others, except for when Fuyuhiko let a moan slip out or Sonia quietly giggled about something. But it was fine.

Eventually, the movie was over, and Kazuichi felt excited to find out what Hajime had planned next. He was disappointed, however, when his friend told him that he was going to bail early to get Chiaki home, since she was still falling asleep. Kazuichi frowned, but he still voiced his understanding. Fuyuhiko opted to go with his boyfriend, and the three of them began walking home.

That left Kazuichi with Sonia and Gundham. Normally, he would be thrilled to spend time with Miss Sonia, especially on a day like his birthday. But Gundham being there made the situation much less exciting.

Kazuichi turned to his two remaining friends, feeling his stomach sink as he saw the two of them huddled together, talking quietly. The mechanic considered just calling the whole thing off and heading home, but his thoughts were interrupted by both Sonia and Gundham turning to face him.

“What would you like to do next, Kazuichi?” Sonia asked, smiling brightly.

The pink-haired boy's eyes lit up. “You mean… you still wanna hang out?”

Gundham chuckled. “Of course, Tinkerer. It is still the anniversary of your birth, is it not?”

Kazuichi's chest felt warm and he rubbed it absently. “Aww… Thanks, guys…”

The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon together. They went to a few shops and then a small bakery, where Sonia insisted Kazuichi pick out a cake. He did so cheerfully, feeling completely ecstatic that Miss Sonia was buying him cake for his birthday.

Eventually they headed back to the dormitories, cake in tow. Kazuichi led the way to his room, and, after a brief debate about what to watch, the three of them enjoyed the small cake. The atmosphere was friendly and comfortable, everything that Kazuichi had ever wanted.

The mechanic was thrilled that he and Sonia were having fun, but he was surprised by how much he was enjoying spending time with Gundham. Normally he couldn't stand the other boy, considering him annoying and just generally an obstacle between himself and his beloved princess. But today, actually sitting and talking with him, Kazuichi found himself having a really good time.

As night approached, Sonia stretched and yawned. “Perhaps it's time to get back to our own rooms.”

Kazuichi's heart sank. She was right, of course, they would eventually need to part ways, but he honestly didn't feel ready yet.

Sensing his hesitation, Gundham placed a soothing hand on Kazuichi's shoulder, causing the pink-haired boy to look at him in surprise. “Your mortal form requires rest, Tinkerer. As does the Dark Queen.”

Rolling his eyes at the nicknames, Kazuichi huffed. “I guess,” he mumbled.

Sonia laughed softly. “It has been a lot of fun ‘chilling out’ with you, Kazuichi. But unless we're having a slumber party, I believe it’s time to go.”

The mechanic's eyes widened and a blush slowly spread across his face at the thought of having a slumber party with Sonia.

Gundham grabbed Kazuichi by the chin and turned his face towards him. “Spare my queen your impure thoughts,” he ordered in a low tone.

Kazuichi was horrified by the way his body reacted to the sudden, dominant move. He stammered out a reply, feeling heat rising inside of him, eyes locked with the breeder.

Sonia smiled mischievously as she looked between the two boys, immediately understanding Kazuichi's expression. “Oh, my… Perhaps you really were hoping for a sleepover.”

The mechanic turned to her, a sense of shame settling in his gut. “N-No! I wasn't thinking anything weird, I just-!” He trailed off, glancing between his two friends. He sighed. “I guess I just wasn't ready for my birthday to be over yet, y'know? It's… probably the best one I've ever had.”

Surprised, Sonia and Gundham looked at each other. They silently debated what to do, neither one wanting to abandon Kazuichi after such an earnest confession.

The princess scooted closer. The three of them were all sitting on the floor with their backs against Kazuichi's bed, and Sonia moved in until her shoulder was brushing Kazuichi's. “Well,” she began cautiously. “Maybe we don't need to leave quite yet.”

“I suppose we can spare a bit more time,” Gundham agreed, bumping against Kazuichi's other shoulder.

The pink-haired boy broke into a toothy grin. “Really? You guys want to keep hanging out?” His friends nodded, and Kazuichi couldn't help feeling warm and fuzzy. He also pointedly ignored the more complicated feelings that arose when he thought about being sandwiched in between the other two.

For the next couple of hours, they watched some show or another while Kazuichi talked excitedly, thrilled to have someone to talk to. His friends thankfully didn't seem to mind, keeping up with the conversation as much as they could.

Sonia and Gundham kept giving each other looks that Kazuichi couldn't decipher. He tried to ignore it at first, but eventually it started to get to him.

“Hey,” he said after catching it happening again. “Why do you guys keep doing that? Are you not having a good time?” His anxiety welled up inside him as he awaited an answer.

Gundham shook his head. “I assure you that we are enjoying your company, Tinkerer.”

“Then what-” Kazuichi was cut off as Sonia took him by the chin the same way Gundham had earlier.

“You have nothing to worry about,” the princess assured him, and when had she gotten so close? “We are having a burst.”

“A what?!” the mechanic squeaked.

“A blast,” Gundham corrected, and now he was much closer than Kazuichi remembered, too.

Kazuichi's heart began beating faster as he realized that both of them were closing in on him. “I'm glad, but wh-”

He was cut off again when Gundham leaned in to murmur into his ear, “We only wish to make your day as memorable as possible.”

The pink-haired boy shivered at the way the breeder's voice rumbled. “U-Uh… Thanks…?”

Sonia was still smiling at him, but there was something about her expression that had Kazuichi's pulse jumping. “Is there anything else you'd like to do for your birthday?” she purred.

Kazuichi had never been this confused - or this turned on. What the hell was happening? Were Sonia and Gundham coming on to him? Ignoring the hopeful twinge he felt, he glanced between his two friends. “Um, I'm… open to suggestions…”

The princess's gaze became mischievous again. “In my country, there is a tradition where the person whose birthday it is receives a spanking equal to the number of years they're celebrating. Does that sound like something you'd like to do?”

Looking at her in shock, Kazuichi's mouth worked soundlessly. What was he supposed to say to that? What could he say to that? Other than-

“Yes, please.”

Kazuichi was startled to realize that the plea had come from him. He liked the sound of Sonia's “tradition” way more than he thought he would. He liked it even more when Sonia clapped her hands together happily.

“Wonderful!” The princess looked past Kazuichi. “Gundham, would you please assist me?”

Suddenly Kazuichi found himself being manhandled up onto his knees and bent over the edge of the bed. He yelped in surprise, looking up at Gundham. The breeder just smirked at him, holding his arms behind his back.

“Now, Kazuichi,” Sonia began, commanding his attention once more. “Obviously a spanking works better if you remove your pants, but if you aren't comfortable-”

Before she could even finish, Kazuichi struggled out of Gundham's grip and began unzipping his jumpsuit. He didn't even consider how strange the situation was as he kicked the garment off, leaving him in his undershirt and underwear. He paused when he saw the surprised looks on the other two’s faces. “Uh…”

Sonia recovered quickly, smiling at his eagerness. “Excellent. Now resume your position.” She chuckled as Kazuichi clambered to do what she said, bending over the edge of the bed again. “Good boy.”

The mechanic shivered at her praise. He knew he should probably feel ashamed about how eager he was, but Miss Sonia was telling him to take his clothes off, so his shame could wait.

Above him, Gundham cleared his throat. One glance at the taller boy revealed that his face was completely flushed. “What now, my queen?”

Sonia surveyed the situation, eyes sparkling with excitement. She had always loved giving orders, as she was raised to do, so the feeling of power over her classmate was exhilarating. And if Kazuichi enjoyed following, then that was even better.

“Gundham,” Sonia began, drawing herself up and using her full royal aura, “spank this man.”

Kazuichi felt a brief moment of panic. He had agreed to the scenario under the assumption that Miss Sonia would be the one spanking him, so the knowledge that it would be Gundham was a little upsetting. He began to sit up, but was blocked when the breeder grabbed his arms. Gundham easily manhandled him, twisting his arms up behind him so that he could hold them with one hand, pressing his cheek against the mattress.

“Remain still, Tinkerer,” the dark-haired boy rumbled. “I will use force to keep you in your place, if I must.”

Kazuichi was horrified when another shiver of excitement ran through him at the mention of being put in his place. He was certain he was straight (definitely, probably, maybe) so he wasn't sure what to think about his sudden desire to be ordered around by Gundham, of all people.

And yet, when the breeder told him to ready himself, he did just that. He leaned more onto the mattress, presenting his backside. He took a shaky breath and then… waited.

He didn't have to wait long. Gundham raised his free hand and brought it down on Kazuichi's ass. It wasn't a particularly hard slap, but it was enough to make the mechanic yelp.

“One!” Sonia counted cheerfully.

Huffing out a laugh, Gundham repeated the action, spanking the other boy again. Kazuichi cried out again, more in surprise than in pain.

“Two!”

By the third strike, Kazuichi became acutely aware that his underwear was softening the blows. His traitorous brain told him that the whole situation would be better if Gundham was hitting his bare skin, but he fought those thoughts back. Having his bare ass out would be fucking weird, why would he want that?

Unfortunately for him, Gundham realized the same thing. “My lady, I believe these swats would be more effective without this fabric barrier.” He curled one finger under the waistband of Kazuichi's underwear and tugged on it to illustrate his point, making the pink-haired boy yelp.

“H-Hey!” Kazuichi whined.

Sonia just nodded. “Yes, I see. Shall we remove them?”

“Hey!” the mechanic cried again.

The other two looked at him in concern. “Is this still alright, Kazuichi?” Sonia asked him earnestly.

Kazuichi looked up at her, feeling a flood of emotions. On the one hand, he wanted to please Sonia, but on the other hand, being half naked in front of her was a little… much.

Not to mention the fact that Gundham was also there. Kazuichi glanced up at the taller boy. Gundham was watching him, cheeks still flushed, but his expression was neutral.

The pink-haired boy considered his options, really analyzing how he felt. This whole thing was so sudden, but the idea of a birthday spanking was so weirdly appealing, and the possibility of it getting even better certainly was tempting. Sure, letting them take off his underwear was embarrassing, but it might be worth it.

And so, Kazuichi sighed and laid his head back down, cheeks burning with shame. “I-It's fine.”

“Are you certain? Don't just say yes for our sakes,” Sonia told him, furrowing her brow.

Gundham hummed in agreement. “This is all meant to be for you, my paramour. We do not wish to push you so far out of the realm of your comfort.”

Ignoring the strange nickname, Kazuichi put on his best reassuring smile. “It's totally fine. I want to try it, too. So go ahead.”

Sonia and Gundham exchanged a look, but ultimately decided to continue. The breeder tightened his grip on Kazuichi's arms and used his free hand to peel his boxers off. The pink-haired boy helped shift his position so that the garment could be completely removed, leaving him half-naked in his bedroom with his two hot classmates, and oh god, how did this get so out of hand?!

…And did he just think of Gundham as hot?!

His inner panic was immediately stifled when Gundham's hand came down on his bare ass, producing a stinging sensation that made Kazuichi yelp. It hurt, but it also felt weirdly… good. So good that he almost didn't notice when Sonia started her count back at ‘one.’

“H-Hey,” he panted, looking up at the princess. “Shouldn't that be ‘four?’”

Sonia glared back at him, hands on her hips. “Are you talking back to me?”

Kazuichi's eyes widened and another weird thrill ran through him, pooling hot in his lower belly. “No, of course not!” he quickly insisted. “B-But I already got three-” He cut off with a shout as Gundham spanked him again.

“Two,” Sonia told him smugly, making it very clear that she would not be accepting any arguments.

The mechanic looked up at her hazily, feeling his body responding to the dominant treatment. “Two,” he agreed quietly.

Above him, Gundham chuckled. “Submitting so easily, my paramour?” He swatted the other boy's backside again, pausing to allow his partners to count. “Perhaps you are enjoying this little game more than you anticipated, hmm?”

Kazuichi glared at him. “Speak plainly, you freak-!” He was cut off again by another smack, but this time, the sound that came out of his mouth was much closer to a moan.

“I think you are right, Gundham. I think he's enjoying himself,” Sonia practically purred. She sat on the edge of the bed right next to where Kazuichi was bent over. “But, just in case he isn't,” she began, reaching out to stroke the mechanic's hair, “he should choose a safeword. So, Kazuichi?”

This situation just got weirder and weirder, but Kazuichi was more than ready to just roll with it. He leaned into Sonia's touch as his brain quickly scrambled to come up with a safeword. A thought dawned on him and he glanced up at Gundham, smirking slightly. “Hamster.”

The breeder glared at him, but Sonia giggled. “Alright, then. The safeword is ‘hamster.’”

With an unamused huff, Gundham swatted Kazuichi's ass again. “Very well, Tinkerer. You may invoke the Four Dark Devas of Destruction, if you must. Whatever ensures your comfort.”

“Shut up,” Kazuichi grumbled. That earned him a much harder smack, and this time he definitely let out a moan.

“Shall we continue?” Sonia asked sweetly. Kazuichi nodded, looking ashamed, but he still seemed to be enjoying himself.

Gundham continued administering swats to Kazuichi's backside and Sonia continued counting cheerfully. The mechanic bit his lip, trying not to let another moan slip out, but it was futile. About halfway through, he gave up and let himself enjoy his birthday spanking. He gasped and moaned and squirmed beneath his partners’ gaze.

Finally, the last smack landed on Kazuichi's ass, causing him to cry out one last time. There was a pause as the mechanic caught his breath, leaning heavily on the bed.

Gundham gently caressed the reddened skin of Kazuichi's backside, soothing the sting. “You did well, my paramour.”

“Yes, that was a wonderful performance,” Sonia assured him, running her fingers through his hair.

Kazuichi made a weak noise, mind hazy. Somehow, the spanking had felt so good, and he was now faced with the conundrum of being rock hard in front of his friends. He felt ashamed of himself, getting a boner over something so weird, but he also didn't really care. Sonia and Gundham were petting him and god, did he want them to do more.

He looked up at Sonia nervously. The princess tilted her head slightly. “What is it? Is there something else you want?”

Kazuichi was struggling to find the words. Above him, Gundham chuckled low in his throat. “I believe I know what this harlot craves.” The mechanic felt another shiver of excitement at being referred to as a ‘harlot,’ but he didn't have time to unpack his feelings before Gundham used his grip on his arms to pull him into a kneeling position, revealing his erection.

Yelping, Kazuichi struggled in his grip, blood rushing to his cheeks and his cock in equal measure. “Hey! W-What the fuck-!”

Sonia wasn't listening, just nodding in agreement with her boyfriend. “Yes, I believe you're right. Judging by his predicament, I think our pet needs a helping hand, don't you?”

The pink-haired boy blinked in surprise. A helping hand? Did that mean…?

“I agree,” Gundham replied. He moved behind Kazuichi, tightening his hold on his arms to keep him immobile. “I believe he would prefer your touch, my queen.”

“Perhaps,” Sonia purred, reaching out to tilt Kazuichi's chin up, commanding his attention. “But he will take what he can get, won't he?”

The mechanic nodded mindlessly, completely enamored by the princess in front of him. He really would prefer to have Sonia touch him, but if she told him that Gundham was going to jerk him off instead, he would gladly take it.

So it was a pleasant surprise when Sonia leaned down and wrapped her fingers around his erection. He felt an immediate surge of pleasure, and he bucked into her hand with a gasp.

The princess chuckled. “Oh, my. He certainly is responsive.” She began slowly stroking his cock up and down, smiling when he bucked again. “Gundham, please hold him still.”

“Of course,” the dark-haired boy replied, voice rumbling in Kazuichi's ear. He was still holding the mechanic's arms, and his free hand moved to grasp his hip, keeping them in place. “Behave yourself, Tinkerer.” As he spoke, his breath washed over Kazuichi's ear, making him shiver.

Sonia resumed stroking the pink-haired boy, slender fingers skimming along his length. Kazuichi moaned sharply, marveling at how soft the princess' hand was. He couldn't help staring, watching her tug and tease and squeeze and-

“Does that feel good?” Sonia asked in a low tone. The smirk on her lips clearly conveyed that she already knew what his answer would be.

Kazuichi nodded emphatically. “Yes! Mmn, please don't stop!”

“Is this what you wanted for your birthday?” Sonia purred, jerking him faster.

The mechanic wanted to answer, but her hand just felt so good, all that came out of his mouth was a moan. He nodded again, hoping that was enough.

Gundham chuckled in his ear, hot breath making his eyelids flutter. Kazuichi turned his head to say something to the other boy (he had no idea what), but he froze when he found his face only inches away from his own. Gundham raised an eyebrow at him, and Kazuichi wasn't sure what to make of the sudden fluttering in his stomach.

His brain was too clouded by lust to unpack his feelings, so instead he ignored them. He let his instinct lead, gasping and attempting to buck into Sonia's hand, before abruptly lunging forward and crashing his lips into Gundham's.

The dark-haired boy was clearly caught off-guard. He let out a startled noise, but quickly regained his composure. He kissed back with equal fervor, tongue swiping over Kazuichi's lower lip. As soon as the mechanic opened his mouth, Gundham deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into his mouth.

Kazuichi had never been this confused, but he genuinely didn't care about that right now. His hips were jerking forward with every stroke of Sonia's fingers, chasing the pleasure. He whimpered into Gundham's mouth, squeezing his eyes shut.

He barely registered Sonia's pleased hum. “You two look so cute together.”

The pink-haired boy broke the kiss in a panic. “W-Wait, but you're the one that I - ahh!” He cut off with a cry as Sonia tightened her grip. She began stroking him more roughly than before, making him gasp and writhe.

“Now, now,” the princess teased, leaning closer. “Gundham and I have agreed to share you. You should be grateful to have two dominant partners like this.” She curled her free hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer until their noses were brushing. “You should thank us,” she told him in a low tone.

Kazuichi didn't even hesitate. “Thank you!”

“So impersonal,” Sonia chided, jerking him slower, fingers gliding over his skin in long, languid strokes. “You can do better than that, can't you, Kazuichi?”

The mechanic nodded eagerly, hips bucking again. “R-Right, of course I can… Thank you, Miss Sonia!” he gasped.

Sonia gave a pleased hum. “And who else?”

Kazuichi's mind went blank for a moment before he realized what she meant. “Oh… uh…” He turned his head to look at the boy behind him. “Thank you, Gundham…”

The breeder smirked at him. “You are most welcome, my paramour.” He leaned in to kiss Kazuichi's neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. “Now, beg the Dark Queen for your release.”

Blinking hazily, the pink-haired boy returned his attention to Sonia, moaning hoarsely. “P-Please, Miss - ahh!” He cut off with a sharp cry as Gundham bit the side of his neck.

“That is not the title I told you to use,” Gundham growled, and the sound made Kazuichi's knees feel weak.

Way past the point of having shame, Kazuichi quickly changed his plea. “Ngh, Dark Queen, can I please, please cum?”

Sonia gave him a satisfied smirk. “Oh? I think you can beg better than that.”

Kazuichi was so close now, but Sonia was stroking him so slowly, and he would give anything to get off. So he begged.

“Please, please, Miss Sonia, Dark Queen, I'll be so good, please let me cum, hah… Please…!” His hips bucked helplessly as he teetered on the edge.

The princess chuckled and caught Gundham's eyes. “Shall we give him what he wants?”

Humming thoughtfully, Gundham smirked back at her. “I suppose he has been behaving for us. Perhaps he has earned his release.”

Sonia nodded in agreement. “I think you're right. So, Kazuichi,” she locked eyes with the mechanic, expression completely serious. In her most commanding voice, she ordered, “Cum for us.”

Immediately, Kazuichi's hips jerked forward and his seed spilled over Sonia's fingers. He let out a long moan as his climax crashed over him. Eventually, he sagged in Gundham's hold, completely spent.

Sonia released him and went to get some tissues as Gundham relaxed his grip on Kazuichi's arms, gently easing him into a more comfortable position. The pink-haired boy looked up at the other two, panting and slowly gathering his wits. Sonia returned with the tissues and offered some to Kazuichi.

The mechanic furrowed his brow, his thoughts finally beginning to clear. “...What the hell just happened?”

Chuckling, the princess sat on the bed in front of him. “You seemed like you needed some birthday cheer.”

“Yeah, but… what?” Kazuichi reiterated, still confused.

“We have both had our eye on you for a while now, my paramour,” Gundham answered. “Tonight provided us an opportunity to act.”

Sonia nodded. “Yes, we have been trying to figure out a way to invite you to join us, however, it's a bit hard to find a chance to ask.” She smiled, looking a little embarrassed.

Kazuichi glanced back and forth between the two incredulously. “You… But you two are dating…”

“Yes,” Sonia confirmed.

“But you… want me to join you?” Kazuichi continued.

“Correct,” Gundham answered.

The pink-haired boy couldn't believe it. “But… why? Sorry, I just never really got the feeling that you guys liked me. Hell, I thought Gundham hated me.”

Sonia reached down to take his hand. “I am sorry if we made you feel like we didn't like you. I assure you that we do.”

Kazuichi looked at her hand gently holding his own. He had dreamt of being with her for so long, so having her here, asking him to be in a relationship with her, made his heart race. But on the other hand…

He glanced at Gundham, not sure what to make of the idea of being in a relationship with the overdramatic boy, as well. The thought didn't gross him out the way he had expected it to, making him question some things about himself. But did he really want to be with Gundham, of all people?

“What say you, Tinkerer?” Gundham prompted, taking Kazuichi's other hand.

The mechanic took a deep breath and squeezed both of their hands. He gave them a toothy grin. “Okay! Let's do it!”

Sonia and Gundham smiled. “Wonderful!” the princess cheered. In an instant, her demeanor changed back to deadly serious. “Now get on the bed.”

Kazuichi's eyes went wide and his whole body felt flushed. “Yes, ma'am.”

Sorry it kinda leaves off like that, but hey! Plenty of room for a continuation/sequel! (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)

#guys i actually finished it #praise me #lmao #i hope you all like it #but especially jello <3 #danganronpa #sdr2 #fanfiction #sonsoudam #kazuichi souda #sonia nevermind #gundham tanaka #sparky writes

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thoughts-with-hailey · 4 months ago

Text

My Life in Prythian - Chapter Thirty Five

Mates

summary: MATES.

Despite the happiness of the morning success and a wonderful afternoon with the boys, I felt panic settle over me at their serious look. Thousands of possibilities flitted through my mind about what they wanted to talk about however one stayed at the forefront of my mind; they decided they wanted to be together so Azriel was breaking up with me.

I mean, it made sense. Eris was fae, a high lord’s son even, and I was just human. I could never compete with him. Plus it was impossible to mistake the way they looked at each other, even though there was obvious tension and animosity there was also passion and intrigue. The two were like tortured unrequited lovers who actually both loved each other but refused to admit it. It was very Jane Austen of them, honestly.

So as they stared at me with such serious expressions and grim determination in their eyes that was the only thing I could think of.

Tears started to fill my eyes even though I knew this would happen eventually. No one ever loved me forever. I was a good time girl, someone to pass the time with until they found their forever person, so I shouldn’t be surprised. It still hurt, though, that it was happening so soon. We barely had any time to enjoy our blissful little bubble of happiness before he chose someone else. Maybe that was for the best. The less happy memories I had to dwell on would hopefully mean that i would get over it that much faster.

I tried to tell myself that lie as they glanced at each other.

And then Azriel was…holding me?

Despite my arm full of frogs, which I was certain he hated, he cupped both my cheeks in his giant hands and lowered his forehead to mine with such an earnest expression I focused on him instead of my mounting anxiety.

“No, no of course not. I told you; you’re mine. We just need to discuss some things. Take a breath for me.”

I hadn’t realized I had stopped breathing. That was probably why my vision was going black. Inhaling a deep breath through my nose I closed my eyes to enjoy his scent as I let his words register; he wasn’t breaking up with me. Which left one question.

“What do you want to talk about?”

A gentle hand landed on my shoulder then and Azriel released my face so I could turn to look up at Eris’ penetrating gaze. “Come sit,” he instructed, gently ushering me over to a bench near the path we had walked down.

Azriel followed close behind and the two of them lowered me and my frogs between them. Looking down at my friends I adjusted my grip so I only had George in my grasp, allowing the other two to hop down to their freedom. They turned and gave me a wink each before disappearing back towards the tidepools, leaving me alone to learn my fate.

Eris took my free hand in his and held it firmly on my thigh as he cleared his throat. “There is something I need to tell you. I should have told you sooner, perhaps, though I am unsure when would have been a good time. I know we’ve only just met so this is quite untoward to be so bold as to declare my intentions, however Azriel has informed me that it is for the best so I do not mislead you in my intentions as we get to know each other. I-”

“Eris. Spit it out,” I demanded, unable to listen to his nervous babbly a moment longer.

“You’re my mate,” he blurted out.

I stared at him.

And stared.

George stared too.

Surely that was incorrect. I had imagined him saying that because there was no way that I, a human, was supposed to be the mate of Eris. Although, Feyre was Rhys’ mate and Elain was Lucien’s, Nesta was Cassian’s. Who was to say I too couldn’t be turned into a fae in the near future then, if Eris truly believed me to be his mate? But no, that was impossible. Those kinds of things didn’t happen to me. Well okay they sort of did because I somehow ended up in the fae world, but that was the extent of it. I couldn’t be someone’s mate. They had to be playing a prank on me.

Looking from him to Azriel I tried to read his expression only to find him completely closed off. There wasn’t even amusement there over whatever kind of joke they were playing on me, just…nothing.

Averting my eyes from both I turned to look out over the Sidra, watched the cerulean waves lap at the rocky shore under the bridge. Truly the world was so beautiful, so perfect, and I still didn’t know how i had managed to find myself in it. For a brief moment my mind tumbled the idea of being in a dream or a coma again, though I quickly dashed the thought away. We had well since proven that theory was a lie. This was real, and Eris really was trying to tell me I was his mate.

Though his reason for such a lie was a mystery.

“That’s impossible,” I finally replied, shaking him head at him with what I hoped was a playful smile. “Stop fucking with me, okay? I’ve had a nice day and I’m not in the mood for this nonsense to ruin it. Now, since you dragged me over here go get George’s basket from the pools and we can go home.”

Eris frowned, the hopeful look vanishing from his face as he shook his head. “No, Hailey, I’m not uhm, ‘fucking with’ you. I’m being serious. You’re my mate.”

I rolled my eyes at him, keeping my grin in place when I really just wanted to smack him. He was quite the actor it seemed. “Be so fucking for real, Eris. You think I’m going to fall for that? C’mon, I’ve been the butt of this joke before, albeit it was a crush and not mates, but still I’m not falling for this.” Rising from my seat I turned back towards the path we had come down. “Get George’s basket and let’s go.”

Before I could even think to move, two sets of hands were wrapping around my arms to pull me back down to the bench. I glared between the two of them, truly over whatever game they were playing. I opened my mouth to argue some more since my anger was starting to bubble up but as soon as I opened my mouth Azriel’s shadows slid inside effectively shutting me up. His rough fingers grabbed my chin and jerked my face towards his as he leaned in so our eyes were level. Intense hazel eyes met mine with such a serious expression I almost believed him.

“Listen to me right now, little human,” he all but growled, the dominance in his voice causing my entire body to freeze. “This isn’t a fucking joke. This is a very serious matter, one that’s causing me a significant amount of stress actually, and I want to get this shit figured out. So sit the fuck down and listen to what he has to say so we can discuss this and figure out how to move forward. Do you understand?”

Something about the way he talked to me and was manhandling me seemed to calm my nervous system and I nodded without thinking about it. The shadows slid out of my mouth and he released my chin, took George from my hands, and nudged me to turn towards Eris.

The red haired fae’s mouth was quirked up at the side as he looked between us. “That’s rather effective. It’s ashame I have flames instead of shadows. Burning her doesn’t seem an effective way to get her to calm down. I suppose I’ll have to think of something else if you’re not around.”

I glared, folding my arms over my chest. “That’s rather presumptuous of you.”

The other side of his mouth quirked up and his attention locked on me. “Gods, you’re beautiful when you’re irritated. Your eyes get this determined sparkle and your eyebrows draw together like you’re trying to figure out if you want to kill me or not.”

“I would recommend not provoking her right now,” Azriel murmured from behind me. George gave an agreeing ribbit.

“Right,” Eris murmured, the amusement sliding off his face to be replaced with a serious expression. “Hailey, when I saw you at the peace ball I knew. From that first glimpse I felt that pull, the unmistakable connection between us and every moment I spend away from you is causing me anxiety. I’m not sure how this all plays out or how to make this work. I’ve never been one to be in a relationship, both for my own sake and that of my partners because of who my father is,. This, though? This isn’t something I can ignore. I want to get to know you better so we can see what this connection can offer.” He shifted uncomfortably then, his eyes darted over my shoulder to Azriel before coming back to mine. “In full transparency, having a mate would be the best thing to happen to me not only because finding someone to be my partner would be the greatest gift of all, but because having one would me I could finally unite the Autumn Court against Beron. I don’t want to lie to you, so I will tell you this; my first thought when I recognized who you are to me was that I could finally take my rightful place at the highlord of my court. Almost instantly after I realized how much I also wanted to be around you just for the sake of being near you. So, please think about this. I don’t expect an answer right away. I just wanted you to know my intentions as you are going to be seeing a lot more of me, if you want to of course.”

That was a lot to take in, a lot to unpack, and I was sure I was going to be spending a lot of time later doing so. The one question that came to mind blurted out of my mouth immediately. “What about Azzie?”

“That’s up to you,” Eris murmured. “You know Azriel and I have history, and I would never expect you to give up what you have with him for me. I can see the two of you are good together, and I’m certain the three of us could be, too.”

I felt my heart stutter at that and my vision hazed for a second. “Three of us?” I repeated even as my own voice sounded far off to my own ears.

“If you want,” he hastened to assure me, eyes widening. “We don’t have to. It’s just an option. Azriel and I have a history, as you know, and there are some complications regarding that, however both of us would be interested in making this work with you if you decide that’s what you want.”

I swallowed.

The two of them. And me. Both of them, with me? The three of us, together.

Dozens of images flashed in my mind of tangled limbs and soft moans, hands running over my body and mine over theirs. Heat rose in my cheeks, and the rest of me, when I considered what it would be like to have these two gorgeous fae showering me with attention or letting me explore their sculpted bodies. The idea of watching the two of them pleasure each other had my breath quickening at the mere thought of the possibilities.

“Fuck,” Eris groaned, his eyes darkening and his eyes became hooded.

My gaze focused back on him in time to see his nostrils flare as he took in a long breath and my cheeks turned scorching hot as I realized what he was smelling.

“Is he the one you were thinking about the other night?” Azriel murmured against my ear, having moved closer without me knowing.

I clamped my mouth shut, pushing to my feet once more. This was not the time for sexual fantasies after revealing such life altering information. Snatching George from Azzie I spun around and marched over to where his basket was, then headed up the path back to the main street, not bothering to see if they would follow.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #fanfic #thoughtswithhailey

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puddle-nerd · 2 years ago

Text

Menace (Part 1)

Summary: Jake’s tail likes to get him into trouble because it has a mind of its own. (Jake x Reader)

Part 2

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Prompt 4 (Spanking) for my submission for LunasKinktober2023

Na’vi Translation: Olo’eyktan — clan leader Paskalin — honey (term of endearment) Unilpay – alcoholic drink like moonshine (non-canon) Story Tags: No use of y/n, Female Reader, Spanking, Friends to Lovers, Neytiri Married Tsu’tey because we don't do cheating in this house, Brief Mention of Past Cheating by Someone Else, Miscommunication, Mild Dub-Con-ish if you squint, Use of “baby girl” and “good girl”, Proper communication, color system, Fingering, Idiots, They’re both idiots! Idiots in Love

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Jake Sully was an unabashed flirt. Jake Sully was an absolute menace. He had been a bit of a menace when he’d been human and wheelchair bound but after the final transfer through the eye of Eywa? Honestly, it had more than likely been an issue probably even before then but he’d only been in his Avat for a handful of hours before he’d been away learning how to be one of The People. The issue had been and still was that his tail always seemed to have a mind of its own.

You could tell a lot about what a Na’vi or an Avatar was thinking or feeling by learning the movements their tails and the way Jake’s twitched around you (although with those expressive ears, those lasciviously teasing smiles, and the tone he delivered certain words and phrases…); he was without a doubt an unrepentantly horrible flirt. He’d been that way back on Earth, too. Tommy, because you’d met the younger Sully first through university and induction into the Avatar program and he’d eventually introduced you to his older twin after the incident in Venezuela that left Jake in a chair, had quickly become embarrassed beyond belief whenever Jake turned his flirty behavior your way. And you shouldn’t have fed into him. You really shouldn’t have but if your ex hadn’t cheated… well Jake’s flirting had made the sting of your ex two-timing you for your uni class enemy all the more bearable.

And now, being only one of thirteen women and one of thirty-five remaining humans staying on Pandora after the near destruction of HomeTree, his flirty behavior was still welcome, most of the time, because he was the only one showing interest in you it seemed.

Most of the scientists were more focusing all of their attention upon the flora, the fauna, The People than making romantic gestures towards others, though there had been a few new relationships crop up. The techs and the pilots usually stuck more together, while the scientists devoted themselves more to their work than to fornicating with each other. Accidentally finding Trudy straddling Norm’s lap of all things one day had been a laugh around the labs for a solid month but the two of them surprisingly worked well together. And they had been the ones who had taken charge of raising Paz Socorro’s orphaned baby whom they had decided to use his middle name ‘Ethan’ instead of what the birth certificate labeled his first name as: Miles. The last Miles that had been on Pandora – well, Neytiri had killed the bastard and with good cause, too. You all just wished you knew who Ethan’s father had been as that space had been left blank.

One of Pandora’s great mysteries, you supposed.

“Jake, get control of your tail or I’m gonna cut it off!”

Menace.

You had been trying to structure the DNA strands of one of the flowers that Mo’at had once told you was great for healing until Jake’s tail had knocked over a glass tray of tubes behind you, wagging away like an overexcited puppy. At least he had the decency to look sheepish at the dirty look you shot him. “Sorry, Paskalin,” he called out, backing away from the mess. His Avatar body was too large now to successfully grab a human-sized broom and sweep up the shards leaving you to do it. You went to crouch over the pile you’d made a few minutes later only to feel that menace of a tail swat your backside. You looked up but he was studiously looking away from you, the corner of his mouth curled up.

“Go bother Neytiri or something,” you snapped, taking the pan of dirt and now useless glass and carrying it to the closest bin.

Jake’s good mood plummeted. He grumbled low in the back of his throat like a displeased feline. Your words had been a low blow, honestly, and you’re not sure why you’d chosen that to say to him. After the death of her father and her intended had been made Olo’eyktan, Neytiri and Tsu’tey had gone ahead with their official mating after most of the Sky People had been chased off planet despite her having been seemingly interested in Jake before. There had been a huge ceremony a week ago, Jake had begrudgingly recalled to you as you had not been invited. Lots of paints and new necklaces and intricately designed loincloths woven together specifically for their union. And he’d been introduced to the moonshine-like drink The People referred to as unilpay.

You tried not to shiver at the memories of that night. A drunken Jake had stumbled his huge blue body through your bedroom door at the witching hour after Neytiri and Tsu’tey’s wedding ceremony and nearly scared the absolute shit out of you. In vindictive retribution, you recalled he’d ended up knocking his large head against both your doorframe and your ceiling light fixture, mumbling incoherently in a broken hybrid of the Na’vi language and English before slumping heavily over your bed, nearly squishing you in the process. And that damn tail of his had wrapped itself possessively around your upper thigh, the dark tuft flicking lazily against the very thinly covered juncture of your thighs. At least you had had panties on to begin with. Not having expected Jake’s sudden appearance, you had taken care of your own needs earlier that night and hadn’t thought to air out your room. You (later that night) had also had a pretty fantastic dream that Jake had woken you in the middle of the night and fingered you to completion with two of his large, blue fingers, stretching you wider than your ex could have dreamed.

When Jake had woken that next morning, he had buried his head into the crook of your neck, moaning about how good you smelled, hand digging into the softness of your belly. His tail had tightened around your leg and flicked against the front of your panties some more until you pinched the tip of his ear so you could escape and avoid how aroused he had been making you. The Avatar had quickly let you go after that, letting you escape with an unreadable frown upon his features. He’d been swinging by the lab nearly daily after that and making even more of a menace of himself every time.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” you said, seeing the unhappy look upon his face at the sting your words had caused.

“S’fine,” he mumbled, looking anywhere but you. “I’m gonna head out now.” He hardly ever cut his time short like this but you understood he was smarting at basically getting reminded that he’d been dumped and was now dealing with your shitty attitude and he needed to, metaphorically, lick his wounds. He turned to head out of the lab and his menace of a tail got in the final words, swatting your backside once more, this time a little harder, the sting in your backside causing your quim to tingle.

“Menace!” You called after his retreating back.

Shit.

You were going to need a cold shower.

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Jake hadn’t come back for two days, which was unusual, but not unheard of. So, again, you hadn’t expected to see him so late that night and had been enjoying the solitary of your private bunk, lights off, headphones in, naked and sweating upon your rumpled bed as you watched the pornographic video upon your tablet, fingers stuffed up into your dripping pussy.

The acting was as terrible as any fuck film usually was but what made it one of your favorites was the fact that, if you squinted, the main male and female characters kinda looked like you and a human Jake with his Na’vi size since the male pornstar was so much bigger than the female he was spanking away. It was a kink of yours, wanting to feel that burn of a hand striking your plush, naked bottom until the skin was red and raw, his other hand pressed firmly between your shoulder blades. (You hated it when the male grabbed their co-star’s hair in a tight fist and yanked their head back painfully. How was that supposed to be pleasurable? It always looked like he was about to rip chunks out of her scalp or snap her spine.) Then, with a sore bottom, when the female pornstar either got fingered to completion or fucked, ohhh, the orgasm that ripped through you was always a satisfying one.

Again… you hadn’t expected Jake to show up.

Legs spread wide, two fingers deep with your thumb circling your hardened clit, the sudden blue hand lifting your tablet from where you had it propped up to watch your fuck film caused you to shriek — and not in pleasure.

The sharp brightness of the video on Jake’s sapphire colored face was… weird. His eyes glowed with the light refracting out of them, much like a feline on Earth. You yanked your earbuds from your ear, the sound of skin slapping together fading from your hearing. You scrambled back, trying to locate your bedsheet to preserve whatever modesty you might have had left, screeching, “What the fuck, Jake?!” Your heart was galloping away in your breast, and you could feel the stickiness of your arousal on your one hand clutching the cotton to your chin. You could also feel it seep out of you as your cunt clenched on nothing, seeing him standing there.

“Well damn, baby girl,” the Avatar chuckled huskily. “If this is what you’re into, I could accommodate you. Unless you’re still embarrassed from the other night?” Golden eyes flashed as he turned towards you, a challenging brow raised.

Trying to restabilize yourself, you demanded, “What are you talking about, you menace?”

He smirked, hearing the familiar nickname. “The night I came by and got you off,” he replied, as if reminding you of something you should totally know about. You stared at him blankly. The grin began to fade. “After Neytiri’s wedding…?” You gaped at him. “Come on,” he groaned. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby girl.” Your cunt clenched again, hearing him call you that. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since I met you and I came by a week or so ago and I got you off and we fell asleep and then you ran away the next morning even though I could smell you getting hot for me again.”

He thought…

Oh… that changed things. Maybe…

“Jake… I…” you floundered, still. It had been a dream though… right? He hadn’t actually gotten you off, right? You had felt a bit more stretched out and sated that usual but that was because of the wet dream… right?

A considering look crossed his features. “I could take your choice away…” Your eyes bugged slightly as you stared up at him, still gaping away like an idiot or a fish or an idiot fish, heart kicking up speed in your chest, body trembling. A whole body shiver traveled through you. Jake scented the air and his golden gaze darkened, a predatory smirk crossing his features. “You like that, baby girl,” he stated. “You just got hotter for it. I can smell it. C’mere. Let D—let’s play.”

Jake suddenly yanked your top bedsheet away from you, uncovering your body and taking in your nudity eagerly. “Jake!” You protested but even to your own ears, it felt weak. He just smirked and grabbed your ankle, yanking you towards him. Oh, fuck. That had to be one of the hottest moves on the planet and the heat in your lower belly kicked back up. His nose wriggled and you hadn’t thought he could look even more smug. Before you could make sense of it all, Jake scooped you up, sat down on the end of your bed and then deposited your naked body across his bare thighs. You let out an ‘omph’ as you felt something else firm and hot digging into your hanging breasts and it took a second to realize; he’d taken his loincloth off. He was as naked as you were.

Looking down, you couldn’t see Jake’s cock but if you were judging off by what you felt, he was hung. And aroused.

You whimpered slightly.

“I gotcha, baby girl,” Jake assured you, one of his hands trailing his fingertips down your spine to the swell of your ass before dipping into the copious amounts of slick you had naturally produced. “Fuck, baby, bet I could get at least one finger in here no problem.” There was amusement and wonder in the ex-Marine’s voice. “But let me spank you, first. You like that, yeah?” You swallowed, nodding, bracing yourself on his thigh. “Use your words.”

You nodded again, saying, “Y–yeah, I… I like… getting s–spanked. Just… don’t pull my hair…?” Your voice trailed off.

“No hair pulling,” Jake repeated back. “Want me to brace your back instead, baby girl?”

You nodded, adding, “Yes, please,” before he could remind you.

“Good girl,” the Avatar grinned. “Color system work for you?” You verbally agreed. He prompted, “What’s your color, baby?”

“Green, definitely green,” you admitted, embarrassed at being displayed so but you couldn’t deny your arousal and you were both consenting adults.

Jake experimentally dropped his hand against your backside. It didn’t feel like much. “Like this, baby girl?”

You decided to be a brat and retorted, “A toddler could hit harder, Jake.” The next slap was much more appealing and you let out a quiet ‘oooph’. “Much better, Sully.” You peeked up at him to see him shooting you an eye roll. He spanked you again, earning another quiet moan. Then again and again and again. “Oh fuck,” you moaned, writhing over his knees as the sting in your ass and upper part of your thighs built enticingly with each strike. You nearly screamed when his next blow landed on your engorged cunt, nails biting into his thigh. He held you down harder and struck you there again, your squirming rubbing over the length of his hard cock. “Fuck, don’t stop, Jake. Don’t stop.”

A couple of more spanks to your ass, your upper thighs and your pussy and you felt the coil in your body preparing to spring. “Gonna cum?” Jake hissed through clenched teeth, delivering two more spanks. “Be a good girl and cum for me. Cum for daddy!”

The Avatar smacked your pussy directly eight more times, fingers spreading the sting between your cunt and your clit, before you did as you were told with a wail, slick flowing steadily all over his hand. He chuckled darkly, sinking his index finger into your fluttering walls and stroking a spot inside that prolonged the bliss and had you sobbing as you writhed over his knees, cumming harder than you can ever recall cumming before in your life. He eased you through it and when you started to calm, slid you up and off his legs, readjusting you to lie against his chest.

“You good, baby?” Jake asked softly. “Not gonna fall asleep on me again, are you?”

You hummed. “Not yet,” you admitted. You propped your head up onto your hand, bending your arm at the elbow. “Thank you for taking care of me, daddy.” Jake rubbed a hand over his face in embarrassment. “Hey, hey, I was just teasing,” you said softly, sitting up. “I have a spanking kink. You have a daddy kink. It’s cool. I’ll call you daddy if you spank me like that some more.”

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Originally Posted: 04 October 2023 Word Count: 2,590

AO3

@pandoraslxna, @eyweveng

#lunaskinktober2023 #avatar #avatar smut #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #human reader #jake x you #jake sully x human!reader

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