#but that's okay it's all okay because once this thing is hammered down onto the paper

[morverenmaybewrites]

Writing this one shot is taking so much from me that they're going to find me lying face-down on my keyboard, stone-cold and dead.

I am exhausted.

[luveline]

𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐳, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect. fem, 5k 

ditzy-ish reader, pining eddie, mutual pining, confessions, first kisses, fluff and hugging, idiots in love, mild states of undress

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

It’s a day fit for a funeral in Hawkins. Rain hammers his bedroom window like hailstones, plinking against the frame, condensation running down the panes in thick rivulets he soaks up with an old t-shirt. 

It’s supposed to be spring time. Green grass, flowers, a gentle humming sun to warm the back of his neck while he sits out on the couch on the porch, a hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers, the tip shimmering with heat. 

But the rain pours. He’s cleaned his room for the first time in a month, at least, and his back aches in the best way as he lays down amongst fresh sheets. His room feels strange when it’s organised, but he doesn’t mind. He pictures the state of it through a second pair of eyes. This is a boy who cares about things, who takes care of them, who could take care of me, too. 

Rain again rackets on the metal roof above. He and Wayne keep a couple hundred bucks stashed for the day the roof flies straight off —they take turns hiding it, because cars break down and groceries get more expensive every year, but god will they need it, and so they safeguard it well. 

He syphoned a little of the money recently with Wayne’s support. It was for a good cause. 

“Jesus,” Eddie murmurs to himself, not tired but feeling dull as the clouds outside eat the remaining sun. 

It’s depressing to be poor, and to lose a day trying to hide the evidence of an entire life in a small room. He could sleep a hundred years. 

He’s just finished pulling the sheets over his shoulder when somebody knocks on the front door. Wayne opens it three rooms away, the sound of the rain doubled. 

He gives a startling shout, “Ed! Your girl!” 

Eddie topples out of bed. Doesn’t mean to, foot caught in the bottom of the sheets and stuck as he scrambles to slide out of the mess. He’s begged Wayne not to call you that when you’re within earshot, but Wayne’s a mean (kind) old bastard (middle aged dad) who wants Eddie dead (happy, and in love). 

“Come on in, girl. You’re soaking.” 

“It’s raining.” 

“It’s pouring down. Did you walk here?” 

“Took my bike. Thought I’d get struck by lightning in the car.” 

“How’d you figure?” 

Eddie goes to grab the door handle and spins on his heel, staggering onto his bed and up against the wall, where a mirrored tray once used by Dio himself for rolling hangs from the wall. He checks his face in the polished surface, his warped mouth and nose, too small eyes, and swears to himself that one day he’ll get a real mirror with a fully-functioning reflective surface. 

Then he hops down off of the bed, causing a reverberation he knows traverses the entirety of the trailer floor. Eddie snatches a rare clean towel from his laundry chair and speeds down the hall. 

“Hello,” he says, more casual than he feels to find you unexpectedly in his house. “You’re soaked.” 

You give a sweet smile. “It’s raining out, did you not know?” 

Your hair is dripping, water racing down the curves of your face to collect at your chin. Eddie can see the smudges of your makeup where it’s washing off as he wraps a towel around you, kohl on your cheeks, eyelashes turned to half-diamonds and sticky-looking. You grin at being covered, taking the towel from his fingers before he can dab you dry. 

“Why didn’t you just call me?”’

“I can never remember if your phone number ends in three or four.” 

“Seven. I wrote it down for you a hundred times.” 

You rub your eyes and spread all manner of glitter and shadow over your skin. You wipe your neck and the glitter spreads like an alien rash. 

When you talk next, you shiver, “I lost it a hundred times, sorry. Is it okay that I'm here?” 

Wayne, who’s been watching with a distinct sense of amusement from the couch, lets out a chesty laugh. “Honey, it’s always okay that you’re here on my account. And it’s my house.” 

“It’s fine.” Eddie turns your shoulder so he can mouth over it without being caught. Asshole. 

Another laugh follows. Eddie would cut each of his fingers from his hand and then his hand from his wrist if it were something Wayne needed him to do, but that doesn’t make him any less of an opportunistic asshole. If there’s a way to fuck with Eddie, he tends to try it. He loves Eddie with all the tenacity of a father who loves his son, but Wayne got infected with little bitch disease or something and Eddie can’t cure it. 

“Can I please wash my face? I didn’t expect to get soaked.” 

“Didn’t you?” He regrets his flippancy quickly, leading you down the hall. “You could take a shower. What do you think?” 

You’ve never showered here, but Eddie’s trying to, you know, date you. Romance you, get to cherish you, however anyone wants to say it. And it’s not a war of attrition, just a natural escalation of sharing, or a minimising of boundaries. 

No, that’s pervy, isn’t it? 

“I mean–” He starts to correct himself. 

You interrupt with your answer, “Yes, please, do you think I could? But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I have your purple hoodie in my room, and there’s gotta be a pair of sweatpants here that fit you,” he says. 

They’ve got a whole bunch of clothes here that floated in from somewhere else, Eddie’s other friends or stuff they’ve bought by mistake. He’s sure he can find something.

“You have my hoodie?” you ask, black kohl spreading across the towel as you wipe your cheek. 

Eddie only smelled it one time. When he’d realised you left it in his van he brought it in and folded it, waiting for the next time he’d see you to give it back, but that night he’d been getting out of the shower wondering if he could call you or if that was too soon, and your hoodie had been right there. So he stood there in his pyjama pants with his wet hair and he didn’t think about picking your hoodie up, he just did, and when he pressed it to his face it still smelled of your perfume. 

He put it back and felt like a loser for days.

“It’s in my closet, you left it in the van Monday,” he explains quickly, nudging you through the doorway of the bathroom. 

The Munson bathroom is teeny tiny but not unnavigable. There’s a shower pressed to the far wall that could squeeze in two people, their toilet to the right, a sink basin opposite that with a medicine cabinet and just enough room for a dirty laundry box that’s always, always full. 

Eddie opens the shower and turns it on. “It takes a while to get really hot but then it’s not hot for long, sorry. There’s my shampoo if you want it, and soap, and body wash. Sorry, none of it is super girly.” 

“Sorry sorry,” you say, pretending to hit him in the stomach. “What’s with all the sorries, handsome? I can’t wait to smell like a boy.” 

The way you say it. Eddie doesn’t know what it is, but it’s why he’s crazy about you. 

Probably shouldn’t tell you that as you're taking off your jacket, though. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says. 

Eddie heads out of the bathroom to their skinny linen cabinet hidden in the hallway. He grabs the last two towels from the middle shelf and takes pause, fabric starchy in his hands. Just be normal, he thinks, a pep talk from Eddie to Eddie. She hangs out with you all the time for a reason. She held your hand at the movies. 

Eddie’s in better spirits when he remembers that. Your hand in his, your ring pushing his ring further down his finger, your cheek touching his shoulder as you’d leaned in and asked if he wanted some of your popcorn. 

He opens the door without thinking, shower pattering against the perspex wall, your legs crossing tightly as he enters, turning yourself away from him.

“Woah!” you say, laughing.

“Holy crap.” The image of your red underwear immediately stamps itself into his mind as he pulls the door shut between you. They were really cute, red and white gingham, showcasing just the slightest curve of your– “I told you I was coming back!” 

“I thought you’d knock!” you laugh. “Sorry I flashed you. At least I had my shirt on.” 

At least, he thinks wryly, shoving his arm through the gap in the door, heavy towels pulling at his fingers. His head’s about to snap off, it's turned so far away from the door’s opening. “Here.” 

“If you wanna see me naked so bad you can just ask,” you tease. 

“Take the towels, loser.” 

You take the towels and he closes the door, preventing any more accidental creeping, and giving himself a reprieve. Gingham underwear. Wavy lettuce edgings kissing your skin. 

Holy fuck. Being a person is so lame, Eddie thinks. He wants to have a crush on you purely, and yet seeing the way you’d crossed your legs to hide from him, smiling, he can’t not think about kissing you —touching you. If he doesn’t get you laid out in his bed soon for some slow kissing he’s not gonna make it.

Eddie opens the strip vent above his window and prays it doesn’t flood his whole room. Clean, it doesn’t look half bad, he could bring you in here respectfully, you could stay the night without fearing for your life. 

You take a quick shower. He’s barely gotten over his nerves when you’re walking into his room, a towel around you, not a hint of shyness about you. 

“You didn’t bring me anything to wear,” you explain. 

Eddie just stares at you. 

“Eddie?” You wrap the towel tighter. “Come on, you’re staring at me.”

“Sorry.” His mouth is bone dry. 

“You have my hoodie, right? Just need some pants.” You cross your arm tightly across your chest. “I don’t usually notice when people are staring at me.”

“You aren’t usually naked in my room,” he says, genuinely and embarrassingly apologetic. 

“I’m not naked. Come on, please? Do I have to wait outside the door?” you ask with a laugh. 

Eddie stands up. Shakes his head hard, almost trips over himself trying to get to his dresser. He decides honesty will be best at this point, lest you think he has only one thing on his mind, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just in my head about something and I wasn’t expecting you to come out like that. It’s not right. You’re just… you’re really pretty.” 

“Thank you.” He can’t see you, sorting quickly through his middle drawer and all his miscellaneous pants for a pair he’s sure would fit, if he could just remember where it was. “What are you in your head about?” 

“What?” 

“Eddie, are you okay?” 

“No, no,” he moans, rubbing his face with his hand, ring scratching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not okay, princess, I’m overheating or something, Jesus Christ.” He finally lays eyes on the sweatpants he’d been thinking of, grabs your hoodie from the top shelf and drops them both at the end of the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“I don’t have any underwear.” 

“And that’s something I can’t fix,” he says, leaving the room in a hurry. 

Eddie gets to the living room and keels over. His hair falls in his face, his shirt slides down his back. What the fuck is wrong with him? 

Wayne, sliding his shoes on in the recliner, gives a start. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie lifts his head, yanking hair from his face, the skin of his under eyes pulled down harshly. “Oh my god.”

Wayne wrinkles his nose. 

“No ones ever been such a pathetic excuse for a man before,” Eddie says. 

“Your dad’s in jail,” Wayne points out. “And not for the impressive stuff.”

“I’m pathetic.” 

“You’re fine. You’re not supposed to be not pathetic, you’re twenty.” 

“I’m twenty one.” 

“The extra year doesn’t mean much. I know you think you’re all grown up, but you’re still an idiot.” 

Wayne stands and shrugs on the jacket laying over the armrest. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

“I thought you were definitely gonna ask her?” Wayne asks knowingly. That’s what Eddie told him, after all. “Next time I see her, Wayne, I’m asking her to go steady.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “You can’t leave.” 

“Eddie.” Wayne gestures for Eddie to stop slouching like some fiend from a bad horror. “Listen. I get that you’ve always been sort of… behind everyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. She likes you. She biked here in a hurricane.”

“What if she says no?” he asks. 

Truthfully, Eddie’s more scared of you saying yes. 

Wayne shrugs. “Girl like that’ll still be your friend after. It’ll be fine, okay? Do you need a hug before I go?” 

“No.” Eddie rubs his eyes some more, sore now from being touched. “Maybe.” 

Wayne crosses the room to give his shoulder a squeeze. “It will be fine. You’re great with rejection, Eds, but I have a good feeling about this one.” 

Eddie felt better about it, before he embarrassed himself staring at you. But Wayne’s right, even if Eddie’s read things wrong between you, he’s sure you’ll still want to be his friend. You and Eddie are the same kind of weird, though he’s more angry where you’re carefree. If everything goes wrong, you’ll probably just give an unnecessary apology and offer to braid his hair. Which will be torture, but Eddie’ll still say yes.

Wayne calls goodbye, and you shout, “Bye, Mr. Munson!” to which Wayne wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Get lost,” Eddie says. 

“Go make her a drink. I’ll see you later.” 

That’s not a bad idea. Eddie makes you a mix of orange and grapefruit juice with a couple of ice cubes and a plastic straw, your reaction predicted and then proved. 

“It’s a cocktail,” you say, pleased, sitting on the side of his bed. 

“It’s not a cocktail, just juice.” 

“Can I have some socks, please, Eddie?” 

Eddie passes you your drink, fingertips brushing. “Yeah. Anything else?” He pretends to be exhausted as he trudges back over to his dresser. 

You laugh and sip your drink. “No, I think you’re treating me quite well.” 

Eddie grabs a random pair and finally gets to sit down beside you, the dresser drawer left out, a spare sock fallen to the floor. You shuffle back into his pillows, propping your juice on his side table, and holding your hands out for the socks. Again, your fingertips touch his as he passes them to you. You seem to enjoy it, a smile lighting your face as you pull your knees up to put the socks on. 

“Thank you for waiting on me,” you say quietly. Not shyly, just quiet. 

“You’re welcome. Came all this way to see me, didn’t you?” He gives you a shove. You shuffle back further. “In the pouring rain.” 

“It felt important at the time.” 

“Yeah?” 

You get the socks on and don’t care about them once they're past your heels. Eddie does the honour of smoothing out the bands so that the elastic won’t dig into your skin, and when he’s done he can feel you looking at him heavily. You’re not one for continued eye contact, but you smile like you were waiting for it all day, like it’s a relief to see him. 

“Bad weather,” you say, slouching down. “I think I’m still wet on the inside.” 

“Gross,” Eddie says, pushing you over bodily to sit beside you. This isn’t new, he doesn’t need any nerves, and he’s grateful when they don’t come. “Here, I’ll pull the blanket over you.” 

“Can’t move,” you say, leaning back against the pillows.

Eddie stretches his legs out. You keep yours up, but you turn to his side, and before he can really make any sense of you, you’re dropping your face into his shoulder. 

“Are you still cold?” he asks, searching for the truth in your strange comment. 

You nod into his shoulder. “I’m freezing. The shower didn’t get very hot.” 

“Sorry,” he says, letting his cheek rest on your head. 

You lift your chin as he does it, his lashes pressed to your forehead, the two of you stuck together like two warped jigsaw pieces. You probably weren’t made to be together, but you make a nice picture, and you fit snugly now. That’s what Eddie thinks. 

This is the sort of moment that makes Eddie wanna ask you out. Maybe you’re just the best friend he’s ever had, but something about this closeness feels different. You wrap your arm around his stomach in a hug and he knows this is different. 

“It’s okay,” you say finally, sighing as you shift downward into his side, getting comfortable. 

“Please don’t bike here in the rain. It’s, like, torrential. You could actually get sick.” 

You feel warm where your body presses against his, but Eddie doubts that’ll make a difference if the cold already made you sick. The bike ride from your place to his isn't short. He covers your arm with his and tries to be your space heater, cheek sliding over your forehead. 

“Eddie…” You hug him with tenderness. Eddie’s reluctant to say cuddle, but it’s close. “This might be a surprise to you, but I think it’s worth the rain and the cold to see you. Especially when you do this.” 

“What am I doing?” 

“You’re rubbing my arm.” 

He hadn’t noticed his hand caressing up and down your arm where it rests on his stomach. 

“You make me feel amazing,” you say, dropping your face into his chest. 

That’s his last straw. Eddie gets both arms around you and cuddles you (it’s a cuddle, okay! he’s a loser!) to him, arms tight but not cruel. All this fuss and you’re finally laying on top of him. He decides he won’t ask you after all. He’s not that brave, and he doesn’t want this to end. 

Your legs fall onto him. You relax completely. Even after you shower he can smell your perfume. 

“You smell nice,” he murmurs. 

“It’s on my hoodie,” you murmur back. 

Right. Eddie should remember. 

“You make everything smell like you.” Even his van keeps your scent most days. 

“Too much?” 

“The right amount,” he says firmly. 

You lay on his chest for a while, just breathing. Eddie rubs your back, tells himself he will ask, actually, because he can’t imagine not getting to do this again. You might even stay over. He could live hours of this. He didn’t know having you lay on him could make him feel like this. 

He can’t believe you’ve never done it before. 

Rain pounds the window. Condensation drips down onto the sill. You let your legs stretch out flat and then manoeuvre to be laying half atop him, hoodie riding up your back. 

“Any warmer now?” he asks.

“Yeah, you’re warming me up.” You lavish in his arms for a moment, and then lift your face. “Oh, this is a bad angle.” 

“For me or you?” 

“For me, duh.” 

Eddie doesn’t think you could have a bad angle. He rubs at your upper arm as you start to shift. “You know, your bike has just as big a chance of getting hit by lightning as your car does. More, probably.” 

“You think so?” 

“It’s physics. So, please don’t do it again.” 

You hum. “Hm, should I risk getting struck by lightning, or spend the evening without you?” you murmur, your arm moving, moving slowly, your hand resting gently on the column of his neck. There’s something ironic in your voice, wry, but your eyes are warm. He’s paralysed. No one has ever spoken to him like you. “I think I’d rather get struck by lightning.” 

You stare at one another. He laughs. You join in, your thumb a pressure at his neck, and when you move up his chest to lean in, he isn’t expecting it. 

“We’re very close together,” you whisper. 

“Super close,” he whispers back. 

“…Eddie, can I ask you something?” Your eyes slip shut, your lips so close that something in him aches, just enough wit about him to cup your shoulders in his forearm. 

“Yeah.” 

He doesn’t sound half as calm as you do. 

“Would you… Do you think we could be official? Would you want that?” You tilt your head to the side. “Is that stupid?” 

“Official?” he asks, panicked, his eyes squeezed shut hard enough for a moment that they ache.

“Like, you’d be my boyfriend. I’d be your girlfriend. We’d be close like this all the time.” 

Eddie panics so hard he just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Like, we’d kiss?” 

“I hope so,” you say, your nose pressing against his, the tip to the side of his, and then against his nostril. The heat of your breath is hard to ignore. “What do you think?” 

What does Eddie think about it? 

He catches your lips in a slow kiss. Achingly slow, not even sure it’s a kiss until you reciprocate, and your fingers dig behind his neck to tease his hair. Your lips part against his, the heat of your tongue sudden and undeniable —Eddie didn’t know you had it in you. He squeezes you to him, attempting to crane his neck downward, reliant on your enthusiasm as you move up, as you use his neck to pull yourself closer. 

Your noses crush together, and it actually hurts. “Sorry,” he says, easing you back, “you okay?” 

“‘Nother kiss,” you say hopefully, distractedly. 

He can’t not give it to you. 

Your hand spreads flat against his chest and you kiss, you kiss, long and slow movements against him before turning your head to take it again. Eddie doesn’t always know what to do with himself, but he knows kissing, no matter what anybody might think about him, and he takes the lead. 

His hand screws into a fist against your hoodie, the slip of your back further exposed as you shiver into his mouth, a sound you shouldn’t make sweet on his tongue. 

You pull away, breath on his lips. “Wanted you to kiss me for so long,” you murmur. 

Eddie knows you’re not saying it to flirt, and that makes it worse. 

“I should’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he says roughly. 

“You wanted to?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, so much, I’m a loser about you–”

“I’m always a loser,” you interrupt, “but especially about you.” 

You scratch your fingers through his hair, encouraging his head down for another kiss. This one rougher but not rough, his arm slips finally behind your head where he’d needed it to be, hooking you in his elbow to keep you in one place. To kiss you soundly, without interruption. Your almost feverish ebbing inward is a dream, your nose rubbing up against his is a fantasy. 

His heart hammers and hammers at his ribs. 

You pull away to let him breathe. “You’re very excited,” you tease lightly. 

Eddie kisses you, breathless. He kisses you so much he’s surprised you allow it, but your thumb rubs his cheek, and he knows he’d been right all along. You want him like he wants you, with startling, mildly pathetic urgency. 

He feels like a fucking prince. Girl of his dreams in his lap, everything he wants, and he didn’t even have to ask. 

—

Eddie spends a week in bliss. You’re suddenly everywhere, all the time, attached to his hip or some other part of him, and he forgets for seven whole days that he bought you a ring. 

The rain dries up, the Munson emergency fund lives to die another day, and he remembers the ring only minutes before you’re knocking at his door. 

He trips over himself trying to answer it before Wayne, who’s taken to being as painfully embarrassing as is possible for one human being, can get it for him. 

“One day you’re gonna eat shit and break your nose,” Wayne says. 

Eddie yanks open the door. “Yeah, thanks. Hey, beautiful, what’s with the sunglasses?” 

You slide them down your nose. You’re a vision on his front step, not that you’d ever notice your own intrigue. “The sunglasses?” you ask, tucking them away. “What do you think they’re for? Three guesses.” 

He grabs your waist, leaning down out of the doorway so as to save Wayne the agony. “That’s smart,” he says, kissing you quickly in hello. “You’re funny. Need anything before we go?” 

“No, I’m okay. Hi, Mr. Munson!” you add.

“Hey, honey! How are you?” Wayne calls.

You look up into Eddie’s face with an obvious delight. “I’ve never been better.” 

Eddie grins back. 

He waves a quick goodbye to Wayne and then he’s out the door. You grab his wrist and practically dance him to the car, where you offer your keys, and he deigns to drive. From there it’s smooth sailing, familiarity with a better twist, Eddie driving with the windows down and your hands twined on your thigh. Things haven’t changed much since you asked him to go steady, there’s just a whole lot more of this. Touching, kissing, no weird guilt about staring. 

As it turns out, you’re as eager to be laid out in his bed as he is to lay you out. He’s never wanted to kiss you more, and now he’s allowed. 

“Eyes on the road.” 

He leans over to kiss your cheek. The sun has warmed your skin, and his kiss makes you smile. You look pretty no matter the weather. 

“Before we get there, I have something to give you.” He takes his hand from yours to slide the box from his pocket. He holds it up. “But you can only have it if you swear you’ll call me tonight before bed. No excuses. You know exactly what number to call.” 

“Ends with a three,” you say, nodding. 

He sighs. “No, it does not.” 

“I’m kidding! Two one nine seven, I have now committed it to memory.” 

Eddie pays attention to the road, though it’s clear and long heading out of the trailer park and into town. “That deserves a gift.” 

You’re back in your glitters today, a skirt to enjoy the fine weather, a button shirt with a cute triangle collar, you’re lovely as ever, if a tad much for some. Not Eddie. He loves the dark clothes, the tinkling bracelets, the fun way you smile like everything he says is a secret between him and you. People stare wherever you and Eddie go, but as long your arm is sewn through his he couldn’t care less. 

“A gift,” you say, smiling in your way, and taking the box politely. “I don’t think I deserve it for just remembering your number.” 

“You deserved it for less. It’s not much. You can pay me back in three or four amazing kisses. Right here.” He points to the tight juncture beneath his jaw. 

You attempt to lean over and kiss him immediately. He pushes you back, laughing, worsened by your own breathless laughter as you steal one exactly where he’d tapped. 

You settle back down, Eddie’s hand dropping kindly to your knee. “I wonder what it is,” you say. 

“Then open it.” 

“I am!” You pop the box open, it’s springing hinge snapping into place. “Oh, woah. Woah. Where did you get this?” 

It’s a slim ring, with a weirdly shaped band of quality metal around some cheaper but not totally worthless gemstones, of which there are three different colours: a topaz orange, a lime green, and a pinky-red ruby colour centre stage. They have nice cuts. It’s strange as you are, and he knew when he saw it you’d have to have it. 

“If I put it on my marriage finger, are we engaged?” you tease. 

“That one would be way heavier,” he says, giving you a squeeze. 

You slide it onto your middle finger and hold your hand up in the sunshine. It fits in with your other ring nicely, though it is, to Eddie’s pride, far prettier. 

He has half a mind to pull over and kiss each knuckle, but he’s trying to be less dramatic about you. It’s not working. 

“Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” 

“Best boyfriend ever?” he asks hopefully. 

To his mild fear but better pleasure, you climb up onto the console to press three quick kisses to his cheek and jaw, your hand under his ear holding him in tender place. “Best boyfriend ever. Even if you stare too much.” 

“How am I supposed to not?” he asks, with more weight than he’s intended. 

You speak matter of factly for the first time in your life. “I am going to cause an accident,” you promise, attempting to kiss his nose. “A bad one.” 

“Sit down, please.” He lets you kiss his nose, and then jabs you in the side. “Sit down, oh my god! That’s not funny, you’re so pretty I will total your car.” 

“Now who’s not funny?” 

You both laugh at the same time, the unfiltered, un-cute cackling of two idiots with the same sense of humour, and the same wealth of ridiculous honeymoon love. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed. if you did, please consider reblogging or commenting!! thanks very much <3

[cupcakeslushie]

I know that Hamatos are all really confused about what happened to Donnie, but I can see April getting legitimately pissed and starting down every lead she can find to dig up the truth detective style. Because messing with people and being a bully is one thing, but manipulating and abusing someone enough to change their personality is another. And she messed with HER family. And “you’ve done it now- when I get you I swear to god-“

Not sure if April would find anything but I can see her initial reaction being frustration rather than confusion.

@starrobot96 @snipersiniora

I’m honestly leaning more towards Raph and April having the most intense reactions to what’s been done to Donnie. Raph, because he’s still dealing with his own Krang trauma. So Kendra messing with his little brother, similar to what was done to him. That’s gonna make him want to rip her apart. I don’t think he’d kill her. But Kendra is definitely not getting out of this Scott free.

Raph will more than likely be leading the charge in Donnie’s rescue, because I don’t think he would go with them willingly, and Raph’s not about to make Leo or Mikey be the one to drag Don away while he’s screaming and resisting. Raph would take that role solely onto himself.

Leo is way out of his comfort zone. During the actual search, he’s more serious than he’s been since the invasion. Thinking that everything will be okay once they can just get Donnie home. But when they do, one desperate, good-natured joke has Donnie terrified of even looking at Leo. From then on, Leo makes that distance bigger, by avoiding Donnie, scared of setting of another panic attack. Even when Donnie starts to reach out, Leo is now hesitant to say anything. That was their whole type of sibling dynamic, ribbing and joking with each other. But now Donnie is like a stranger.

Mikey really hammers away with the toxic positivity. It’s not his fault. He’s just so out of his depth. He’s not a baby, but this is intense stuff. Trauma that he always steered away from in his Dr. Feeling research. But now that knowledge is necessary…looking into it really takes a toll on his own mental well being, bad enough that Splinter sees and puts a stop to it.

April is frustrated with her own investigative ability, and feels guilty, because Kendra wouldn’t have even known about Donnie, if she hadn’t asked him to come by her school. We know, that’s more than likely NOT true, as the boys run into criminals all the time, but April isn’t thinking logically.

Im still not sure about the exact how’s of Donnie’s rescue, but April will probably be the one he latches onto most in the aftermath. The fake simulations with her, were never as bad as the ones with his brothers (ie physically painful) so even though he would be scared to talk to her, and be seen as annoying, Donnie will let her get the closest to help him. He goes from trying to desperately please Kendra, to trying to desperately please April, and it makes her insanely uncomfortable. But she doesn’t want to scare him off when he’s not giving any of them many openings to help. She has to be very careful with walking that line between helping Donnie recover, and making things worse by enabling all of Kendra’s programming.

April’s really gonna carry the brunt of Donnie’s recovery.

[cherryredstars]

First off, I love you.

Second off, I love you A LOT.

Okay so I’m losing my mind over a brain vomit where younger reader’s been harboring and hiding feelings for Miguel for the sake of being appropriate and it’s starting to make her frustrated like “fuck I’m gonna get actually fucking sick and vomit” because how much she’s crushing on him is CRAZY, so reader basically goes up to Miguel like “I can’t take this anymore.” Like reject me so I can move on type of thing. “ Do me a favor, and break my nose or something. Tell me to fucking go away” or something like that. My brain is burning.

Pairing(s): Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader, John Price x civil!reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: For my baby, I LOVE YOUUUUUUU!!!

Edited (just for you boo)

| Miguel O'Hara

If you look at him, you will actually throw up.

Like projectile 'make yourself a laughing stock' throw up. It's just the way your body- your stomach- reacts when you see him. It gets twisted, fluttery with a fix of butterflies and disgust. It's down right disgusting, inappropriate at the least. He's almost a decade older than you, yet here you are pining after him as if you're some teenage girl. You feel physically sick when you think about it for too long: throat contracting and your stomach hurting. You aren't sure which of your delusions are the cause of such a horrendous crush, but you promise you'll strangle it when you find out. There is simply no way this could have ever worked out in your favor. It's simply impossible.

Miguel O'Hara would never go for someone like you. Young and naive, haven't even reached the appropriate age to have a mid-life crisis (but you're sure this is the closest fucking thing to it). You know this, hammer it into your thick skull every day before you have to face him. Yet, it all comes crumbling down when you lay eyes on him. It takes less than a second for you to skip after him, a stupid, lovesick look flickering across your face as you help him with whatever he needs. You simply can't stay away, even if you tried. You always fall back into his orbit, gravity pushing you towards him until you're practically glued to him.

You're sure he must find it annoying. Probably relates it to something like babysitting. It's well known Miguel doesn't like to be bothered when he's working. But there you are without fail, sitting around on his platform entertaining yourself by playing with LYLA when you aren't out saving universes. You don't miss the way his eyes flick to you every now and then with some emotion you can't quite place. But if you had to guess, it's probably something close to exasperation.

In all honesty, you're tired of it.

Tired of the false hope you delude yourself into believing after every minor interaction. Tired of trying to justify your affection for the older man. Tired of feeling a bit of resentment towards yourself. You're just... tired. He must sense it when you walk onto the platform, judging by the look he shoots you.

LYLA is muted mid-sentence as he angles his body slightly away from his monitors and towards you, watching as you plop yourself in your usual spot. He waits expectantly for your usual greeting, brows furrowing with confusion when you do nothing but play with the elastic quality of your suit. You haven't even looked at him since you got in.

"Everything alright?" His all so familiar voice asks, making your stomach ache and the urge to punch yourself stronger.

"Yeah," you respond simply, silence lapping over the two of you.

Miguel waits patiently, expecting something more. But, you don't continue. Miguel hesitates for a moment before turning back around. His eyes study the screens once more, his finger hovering over the button to unmute LYLA before you speak up again.

"Can you like... degrade me or something?"

Miguel almost chokes on his spit when he turns around, not expecting you to say...that. You're still playing with your suit and staring at the floor, face painted with frustration. You look up when he doesn't answer, brows furrowed when your eyes meet his shocked face. You quickly divert your attention to his muscular shoulder, not really having the courage to face him head-on.

"Not like the... sexy kind. More like the heart wrenching kind." You clarify, not that it's any better for Miguel.

He turns to full face you this time, arms crossed over his chest as he studies you. The request doesn't really make sense to him. Why would you want him to do that? Is it some universe-exclusive culture he isn't aware of?

"Why?" Miguel asks, trying to recall your past interactions to see if they have something to do with your strange request.

"I dunno, just thought it might make it easier?" You shrug, your eyes flicking to his again and then looking towards the ceiling.

"Make what easier, exactly?"

Miguel isn't a fan of cryptic answers, but he tries to be patient with you. He watches as your face twists, unsure how to word what you're feeling. You let out a heavy sigh eventually, actually meeting his eyes and holding his gaze for once.

"To get over you."

The words cause Miguel to freeze, his body going rigid. You groan, hiding your embarrassed face in your hands and scrubbing ferociously. This is absolutely embarrassing. You wished a random portal would just appear under you, throwing you into another universe and far away from this particular moment in time.

You're so caught up in your embarrassment that you don't realize Miguel is walking over to you until he's crouched down in front of you. He pries your hands gently from your face, giving you the softest smile you have ever seen on him. His thumbs caress your wrists absentmindedly, doing nothing to calm your raging heart. It practically explodes when he leans closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes are wide and dazed as you look up at him, trying to commit the curve of his mouth to memory.

"Now, why would I want you to do that?"

_____________

| John Price

You aren't exactly sure when it started.

But the moment you realized you liked John, you've started hating yourself. It feels wrong. Almost disrespectful in a way. You aren't particularly sure why, it just does. John Price is a nice man, a good man. A man that could be easily mistaken as your father if someone didn't look close enough. The man you had happened to meet and befriended one day after he had been so kind and gentle with you.

Not the man you should be liking and forcing your feelings on.

You're someone John goes to for comfort, someone he seeks out after coming home from a battlefield. Someone that's supposed to help him distress. The idea of taking advantage of that gently placed trust, of expecting something from John just because he goes to you for help, makes you want to throw up until you're nothing but a useless husk. It's shameful, eating you up on the inside until you feel like your organs are on the verge of failure.

So your solution: Avoid Johnathan Price like the plague.

Does it hurt seeing his texts flash across your phone screen, asking you if you're free throughout the week so he can spend time with you before he deploys again? Hell fucking yes. It makes you feel guilty as hell. But you try to justify it to yourself, reassuring that it's only temporary. That everything will go back to normal once these stupid feelings leave you alone and John Price goes back to being the sweet man you grab lunch with every now and then when he's home so you can catch up.

But of course, your plans never go accordingly.

You startle on your couch when there is a firm knocking on your door, your hands rushing to pause the telly to see if it was just a hallucination. But sure enough, that same steady knocking sounds again. You get up hesitantly, brows furrowed as you try to remember if you ordered take away or something. You peak through the peep-hole, hand planted on the cool wood of the door as you squint.

The alertness in your body dies away when the familiar frame of John greets you, only to tense up again. John Price is at your door. The same John price you've been avoiding for a week. The same exact John fucking Price you're practically in love with. Your hand slides down to the knob, gulping nervously as you unlock it and yank your door open.

John is standing there with his hand raised again to knock, decked out in his military gear. His hands drop to grip the strap of his vest, his mutton chops quivering as his face lifts into his soft smile. You blink up at him, feeling the knob warm under your hand and your heart slamming against your chest. Why did he have to be so handsome, goddamnit?

You step out of the doorway, silently inviting him inside. He accepts it, stepping in and examining the area out of habit. You close the door quietly after him, turning to face him as he turns to face you.

"Missed ya, love? Been busy lately?" He asks in that comfortingly rough voice of his.

You don't trust yourself to not choke on your words, scared he'll see through your lies. Instead you nod, letting out a weak hum that he returns in a more confident note. Your eyes drop down to his military gear, a frown slipping onto your face. Is he being deployed again?

As if sensing the underlying question, John's hands let go of his military vest and he stuffs them into the pockets of his tactical pants.

"Heading out tonight, just wanted to say goodbye before I go since I didn't get to see you this time around."

You feel a stab to your chest at his words, resisting the urge to lift your hand and smooth the pain.

"John..." You start hesitantly, your mouth going dry when he hums again. "Can you tell me you hate me? Or... or that you think I'm stupid or something?"

John tilts his head in confusion, brows furrowing as his lips thin. There is a silent question in your eyes, an aura of demand wafting from him that orders you to explain further. Your hand comes to rub your arm, socked heel digging into your ankle as you debate how much to tell him.

"It's just... I like you and I don't..." You sigh in frustration, turning your head away to glare at the wall. "I don't want you to think I'm trying to take advantage of how nice you've been to me or that I expect you to reciprocate how I feel."

It's quiet for a moment before John's chuckling fills the room. Your head turns away from the wall, meeting the sparkling amusement in John's eyes as he looks at you. There is a fondness there that makes your knees feel weak, your breath getting trapped in your lungs. John takes steady, reassured steps towards you, stopping when he's centimeters away. Your heart is practically lurching in your chest as you look up at him, watching as he slowly takes off his boonie hat.

Your eyes are wide as he places it over your head, chuckling when it slips down over your face before he readjusts it. He admires the sight for a second before he leans down, his facial hair tickling your cheeks as his lips press against the corner of your mouth. Your heart officially stops, your body dangerously close to swaying as he pulls away. You're in a daze as he pinches your cheek lightly, trying to call your attention away from the sparks lingering across your skin.

"We'll take about this when I get back, silly girl." He rumbles, his heavy paw landing on the top of his hat before he slips past you, closing and locking the door behind him as he disappears out of your flat. You're left in a daze as your shaky hands reach up and grasp the rim of his hat, the smell of him instantly invading your senses.

And when John reaches base and the lads pester him about where his usual hat is, he just shakes his head and replies that he left it at home for safe keeping.

[princessbrunette]

just imagine beings jjs innocent gf and youre really inexperienced and it makes you so insecure and like hes not stupid he notices how you tend to pull back when things get heavy but he thinks its because you dont wanna go farther when its like you DO but you want him so bad its overwhelming and you dont wanna disappoint him but one day he reassures you its okay and to ease you into it he sits you on his lap and talks you through your first orgasm while you cum so prettily around his fingers :(

omg working yourself up to near tears because you want him to bad :( attending a lil pogue get together at the chateau, everyone getting drunk around the fire with music playing and it’s sm fun but all you can think about is how badly u wanna pull jj away from everyone and have your way with him… you just don’t know how :(

you haven’t done this before! so you don’t even know how to propose the idea, eventually the blonde picking up on your shaky and hesitant vibe when you ask him to come inside with you to get more ice from the freezer, even a few people wolf whistling as he lets you lead him by the hand inside.

he’s standing there shucking ice into the bucket, turning and looking at you when you slowly approach him with a softness to your expression you only gain when you want a kiss. so he stands to his full height and brings you in with cold hands on your cheeks, allowing your lips to meet.

mostly due to you, the kiss gets hot and heavy quickly, tongues needily dancing over eachother as you blindly found the couch, JJ pulling you onto his lap. your heart starts hammering like it always does and you pull away, a little panicked and frustrated, dropping your head to his shoulder with a sad sigh. “sorry.” you whimper.

“why? hey?” he lifts your chin with his knuckle, brow creased in concern. you don’t say anything, just climb off his lap— and you don’t miss the way he tugs his tshirt down a little trying to hide the bulge that had formed between his legs. after a slightly tense silence, he chooses his words carefully. “babe… y’know me, i don’t wanna come across like some pushy asshole but… am i doing something wrong? i dont wanna scare you, like— we can totally move at your pace it’s just… it seems like you want it and then you pull away and im just a little… confused?” he turns his body to face you, keeping his body language and voice gentle as to let you know you’re not in trouble with him.

you blink up at him tearfully through your lashes anyway as if he had yelled at you, letting a long sigh through your nose. “i… i just panic. i want you so bad it hurts but… dont know what i’m doing, just get so overwhelmed ‘n embarrassed and—” you start working yourself up and he shuffles closer, cupping your jaw.

“hey. look at me. that’s… what im here for, you know? to teach you stuff? we can take it really slow like…” he places a hand on your thigh, watching for your reaction, seeing the way your lashes flutter needily and breath catches in your throat. poor thing, so touch starved. “really, really slow.” he whispers, rubbing the skin there, fingers dipping a little up your skirt. “you okay with this, hm?” he tilts his head, dotting kisses down your jaw.

“mhm.”

“atta girl… you wanna stay right there or do you wanna sit on my lap?”

“on your lap, please.”

“polite, i like it.” he grins, pulling you up and getting you situated as his hand disappears up your skirt, tongue finding yours once more.

[lady-phasma]

I'm sure someone has probably already done this but it's nagging at me and I couldn't hear all the insults as they yelled at one another. (Bold are my emphasis because I am seated!) Specifically the parts about Paris and Marius. I'm not making any comments at the moment, just fact finding because this episode was brutal. Beautiful, but brutal.

Season 2 Episode 5

Louis: What? What?!

Armand: It's morning!

Louis: I lost time. Things got a little heated.

Armand: With a boy! Things got heated with a boy. I was at home picking lint off the sofa!

Louis: I said to join us!

Armand: The night's gone. The room's soiled and once again, I'm here with mop and mindlessness to clean it up.

Louis: So the room got dirty, so what? I'll clean it up.

Armand: No, I clean it up! You make the mess and I clean it up! Mark it on the calendar, align it with Ursa Major. Louis' tri-annual fսck off and find me with apologies to follow.

Louis: ( laughing ) I'm sorry.

Armand: Seek comfort in the arms of lowlifes and unfortunates, and broken children, fine.

Louis: Oh, fine! The fine that doesn't sound like…

But revealing our nature to a reporter you met in a bar ten hours ago? What if it was published?

Louis: I was having some fun!

Armand: You don't have enough to fear from Paris?

Louis: I was in the middle of ending things, when you…

Armand: You'd have been passed out on the floor next to him, Louis! Out on your feet from the drսg you stuffed him with!

Louis: Oh, this is boring! You're boring! You are so boring!

Armand: And here come the drսgs.

Louis: Colorless.

Armand: Up the fangs, down this road.

Louis: Flavorless. Dull! Dull! Dull!

Armand: Into the heart and off with the fingers, feet.

Louis: Dull nights, dull weeks!

Louis: And wallowing brain.

Louis: Dull months, dull as fսck! Suffocation by the world's softest, beige-est pillow! The ten hours I spent with that boy were more exciting, more fascinating, than decades with you! Oh, there it is! The half-blank, half-apocalyptic look! But what does it mean tonight, huh? Does he want to lick my boots or chop my hands off? Is it the gremlin or the good nurse tonight? Huh?

Armand: Okay. Okay, perhaps. But am I as boring as the blather committed onto the ferric tapes of your fascinating boy? "Oh, it's so, so hard to be me."

Louis: "Picking lint off the sofa?!"

Armand: "It's so hard to kill humans."

Armand: "I can feel their feelings as I drain them."

Louis: You sat on your hands and put your ear to the wind.

Armand: "Everyone I know wrongs me."

Louis: Okay. Okay, let's wake the boy up and let's try you. "I'm the vampire Armand and my daddy vampire groomed me into a little bitch."

Armand: "My brother, he tossed himself off a roof!"

Louis: "Vampires who murdered my daddy made me pretend I didn't have a dіck for 240 years."

Armand: "My sister, she buried me alive.” My daughter was my sister was my throw pillow. “Well, he wouldn't look at me kindly.” "Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat."

Louis: I talked shit about him the whole time. So what?!

Armand: The name!! The name! Unuttered in our home for 23 years, said over and over again until it was pounding in my brain like a hammer.

Louis: Our problems aren't about him.

Armand: And you threw her name around just for cover, but it always circled back to him.

Louis: I loved her.

Armand: But she didn't love you. Not like he did, not like I have.

Louis: ( softly ) I know. I know! Yes! I know. ( softly ) Thank you for saying it. It's all creeping back. Paris and the, uh, what, what, what? But there's… all of it coming back. There's, uh, Paris. Paris. Can you hear that? Can you hear that, hm? Can you hear her? She's calling me.

Transcript (with some corrections) from TV Show Transcripts

[viviennevermillion]

Sharing a tent with him ♡

author's notes: set during vargas camp. unfortunately i never found a full translation of the second one so if anything here contradicts canon, just roll with it. spontaneously writing this at 10pm after vowing i'm gonna go to bed early today so i can go to work earlier. oops. also picsart gold is making me go off with the headers so I'm making these for literally every character because i have no life. contains: malleus draconia x gn!fae!reader, cuddling warnings: none

Malleus, as always, is happy to go on a trip outside of Night Raven College; especially if he gets to share the experience with you and in this case Lilia as well. To be honest, you weren't exactly excited about spending your days in the woods near the creepy dwarf mine, engaging in sports and camping activities; but the presence of a certain fae prince made you look forward to it at least a little.

That feeling only multiplied when Vargas announced the students would be sharing tents in groups of 2-3 people and Kalim and Cater excitedly asked Lilia to have a Pop Music Club sleepover. "I'm sorry you two, but I think I'll have to decline. I'm sure Malleus-" "I'll share a tent with Malleus", you blurted out and the dragon fairy raised an eyebrow at you but immediately shot you an amused grin. "You seem quite eager", Malleus put his hands on his hips and smiled at you, "very well. I'll allow it. Just be sure you won't be frightened halfway through." You could tell he was joking and Lilia chuckled at Malleus's obvious excitement about the matter.

Malleus absolutely adored the fact that you wanted to be close to him and spend time with him; that you even felt comfortable enough to fall asleep around him. He sucked up every piece of evidence for that like a sponge, already craving the next instance of you expressing how much you valued him as a companion.

You let out a long sigh after Malleus broke the tent pole for the third time by hitting it too hard with the hammer. "Here let me be so courteous as to help you", you teased and put the pole into the ground, firmly hitting it with the hammer a few times until you felt that it was firmly stuck in the ground. "So, what do we do now?", Malleus seemed at a loss, trying to inspect the instructions on the information sheet Vargas had given you, "why do they explain these things in pictures? Why not put words too? I have no idea what this means." You could see him pouting and took the sheet from him with a laugh. "Be glad you'll never have to put furniture together yourself because that's just like this but worse", you sighed and inspected the pieces for the tent, "okay so....uh....I think this big thingy goes onto the pole and then we....uh-" You tried building the tent and helplessly watched the pole tip over and your "tent" sink to the ground. "You know, on second thought, maybe we should just sit down and wait until Vargas does it himself", you gestured awkwardly and sat down on a tree trunk.

"Oh but we are supposed to do it ourselves. After all we won't be able to understand the feelings of humans once they experience the joys of camping after all the hard work it takes to prepare it", Malleus smiled. "You're too eager for your own good", you took a deep breath. "You were the one who wanted to share a tent with me so badly", he grinned and it was clear he was relishing in the fact that you hadn't hesitated even a second to suggest pairing up with him for this trip. "You're making me sound desperate", you shook your head in disappointment and Malleus chuckled, reaching out his hand to you.

"I'm sure this is going to turn out to be quite pleasant if we commit to it. Once we're finished with our work we can be proud of the result. It might not be perfect but it'll be ours and we can share it for the next few days like a temporary home for just the two of us-" His words made your heart flutter and you took his hand and got up. "How could I say no when you put it like that?", you sighed and continued trying to build the tent.

You enjoyed a nice evening with Malleus and the other students; grilling marshmallows over the campfire and listening to the others talking about experiences they had with camping so far. There were fireflies surrounding you, nothing too unusual for being around Malleus, and the atmosphere was a peaceful one that made both of you feel happy and content.

The two of you were the last ones at the campfire, watching the embers as well as the stars above. You rested your head on Malleus's shoulder as a shooting star passed the night sky. Malleus leaned his head against yours and closed his eyes, a peaceful smile on his face as well. Malleus put out the fire and the two of you went to bed, turned to each other in your sleeping bags.

You watched curiously as Malleus pulled out something from his backpack. It was an enchanted lamp, shaped like a rose. Small, soft lights were dancing across the petals, bouncing off the ceiling of the tent. "These are quite popular in Briar Valley. I thought you might like it, so I brought it along", he smiled and put it somewhere where both of you could look at it. The conversation about the lamp evolved into a quiet talk about Briar Valley; Malleus telling you all sorts of stories about his homeland and mentioning a variety of places he was going to show you if you wanted to visit. He spoke with fondness until both of your words had turned to mere whispers.

If you don't pull the good old "I'm so cold" trick to try and be closer to him, he definitely will.

Malleus was amused at how almost dramatic you were about it. "It's so icy in this tent... I'm going to freeze to death....whatever shall I do?", you sighed with a sorrowful expression on your face and Malleus looked at you seriously. "I could make a fire to warm-" "GOD NO", you gestured wildly as you felt Malleus's fire magic manifesting within the tent. He put the flame out just as fast as it had appeared. He seemed to ponder the predicament further, then smirking at you. "Of course...you could always come closer if you dare", he teased, "I won't mind." "You don't have to tell me that", you smirked back.

That was how you ended up snuggled against Malleus in his sleeping bag, your own sleeping bag long discarded to the side. You had your head rested on his chest and your arms wrapped tightly around him. "This is a strange feeling....but not unpleasant. I like it", Malleus mused and absentmindedly started drawing circles on your shoulders, "although something tells me you had intended for this all along." He smiled as you confirmed his suspicion, a little flustered from the fact that he had seen through you. "There's no need to shy away from me", he clarified, "you need only ask. I don't mind being close to you." He breathed out and closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against your forehead.

The two of you remained silent for a while, until you weren't even sure if he was still awake. "Malleus?", you whispered; a quiet "hmm?" signaling that he wasn't asleep. You hesitated for a moment, your fingertips running up and down his arm. "I just wanted to say...", you took a deep breath, "I've really grown to treasure your presence in my life... You've become very important to me and being around you....well....makes me happy. I'm glad to have met you. I hope you know that." You could hear Malleus's heart beating faster against your ear and you felt him trying to pull you even closer.

"That means quite a lot to me", he whispered back, his lips grazing your forehead as he spoke, making you wish he'd just press a kiss to your skin already, "I feel the same about you. Thank you for being part of my life." You squeezed him gently in your embrace, making him smile.

You remained silent for a few moments, thinking about what you should say next. "You know.... I've spent all my life going from place to place; meeting all kinds of people and experiencing the brief but meaningful moments that life among humans had to offer, but I never really stuck around anywhere. There was nothing that I felt could capture my interest forever; just a century even. The people I met were just as fleeting as my time spent with them. I never had any reason to settle down", you whispered and took his hand into yours, running your thumb across his soft skin, "but now that I've met Lilia, Silver, Sebek and especially you, for the first time I'm certain I want to stay. Do you think there might be place for me in Briar Valley?"

Malleus was awestruck, his eyes widening with every word you spoke. Surprise made him incapable of even replying for a minute. His heart fluttered and there was a feeling of warmth and love in his chest that he didn't even know he craved this much but that henever wanted to miss out on again. You really wanted to stay...with him...as if it was the most self-evident thing possible.

Malleus's expression turned into a soft smile eventually and he squeezed your hand back. "I'm sure that could be arranged", he whispered with an adoration in his voice that was hard not to pick up on, "got anything in mind already?" You closed your eyes, focusing on his chest rising and falling and the soft sound of his breathing. You knew what you wanted. But you didn't dare say it yet. "We'll see." Malleus nodded. Perhaps you could be a guard. Or an attendant. Or an advisor. Or perhaps...the idea he undoubtedly liked the most: You could stand at his side, watching over the country alongside him; forever united in the love you felt for one another.

"Yes. We'll see", he confirmed and wrapped his arms tighter around you; the dreams you two shared remaining unspoken for now. But Malleus knew just as well as you did where he wanted to take the bond you had. Just say the word and I'm yours, he thought, falling asleep with you in his arms and a peaceful smile on his face.

[dancingbabya-notes]

Quirk malfunctions

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->

As anyone else might say sometimes your quirk doesn’t always work the way you intend it unless you train it rigorously, even then sometimes your quirk can mess up or even activate subconsciously.

Characters: Bakugo Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, Shoji Mezo, Aizawa Shouta, Yagi Toshinori

A/N: I'm finally writing something after fighting with my computer for several months and posting it. I will not be disappearing into the oblivion I will be writing whether my brain likes it or not.

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->

Bakugo

As a new hero you needed to be ready to jump into action at a single call. But as you check your phone again you grumble. “I’m taking a nap someone will call if they need me.”

Though the idea of sleeping on concrete wasn’t entirely appealing you were glad for the pseudo cape on your uniform. Closing your eyes happily under the warmth of the sun, even if it was killing you slowly.

While you slept someone who was actually working happened to land on the roof of the building you were sleeping on, which was just the roof of your apartment. Upon seeing your uniform and you just dozing away Dynamight frowned.

“The hell? Is this the new hero that joined, lazy fucker,” he grumbles to himself before turning to you, unbeknownst to him though your quirk was already active.

As soon as he walked closer the watery tendril wrapped about his hands preventing him from using his quirk, then over his mouth to keep him from waking you up. That would have all good and well if some of the water didn’t brush against your skin sending a chill up your spine and waking you up.

Rubbing your eyes and seeing the glaring red ones you quickly pulled the water away. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Picking up your phone you frown at the message. Dynamight was about to chastise you for falling a sleep on the job when you turned off your visor and walked to the door.

“My apologies senpai it seems I’ve been given a mandatory holiday, have a good rest of your day,” You give a slight bow before walking through the door back into the apartment building. “How fucking fun, let me just almost suffocate my big brother’s best friend. Way to go Y/N!”

Kaminari

Your big brother had been born quirk-less and seemed to acquire a quirk seemingly over night before entering high school, while you had both your parents quirks. Fire breath and attraction of small objects. This was probably the most important thing about you that anyone learned, because that would explain why sometimes you simply looked like a dragon no matter the season because you seemed to be breathing smoke.

“What are you doing?” someone asks in what had been a silent workshop.

“I was trying to fix this,” you frown as the item you had been working on fell onto the open table, with a lot of training you were able to hold things in mid air and hold multiple things at once. “Did you need something?”

Kaminari was someone you only recognized because he was in your brother’s class back in high school. “I uh was just checking if my disk shooters were fixed.”

“Uh well that's not my task so I dunno, you’ll probably need to talk to Ogiwara.” You could see his eyes going wide and you look up to see the hammer that had been on your tool belt floating above you. “Damn quirk.”

Jumping up a bit you pull it back down and frown.

“Sorry I guess I’m not as aware of it as I hoped I was, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Shoji

Because of your quirk needing eye contact you did any and everything to get a job where you didn’t need to make eye contact. Office jobs were a bust because your boss would demand it, restaurants were a bust because anyone could make eye contact with you and you wouldn’t know who the last person to look into your eyes was, ultimately you ended up with one of the worst jobs ever according to you brother, at home desk work.

Standing up from your floor desk your back was killing you, and from the warmth of the sunshine from your office window it was warm. “Maybe I could go for a walk? I’m ahead on work.”

Mumbling this you give your puppy a smile as you stand up.

“Hey baby, are you ready for your morning walk?” You ask just as you get dressed in proper outside clothes, the number of times your neighbors have accidentally seen you in your skivvies was far more than you wanted to admit.

The shiba you’d affectionately named Sho –after your big brother, who wasn’t dead he simply pretended not to like dogs– rubs up against your our reached hands giving soft barks in confirmation.

“Let me check how hot it is, we wouldn’t want you to get ouchies,” you giggle.

Waiting inside your apartment Sho watches as you walk to the sun heated ground touching it with the back of your hand. It wasn’t hot and you could walk around if you wanted to.

“Alright, come here baby!” You beam.

Sho already holding his leash rushes up to you closing the door, you smile clipping on the leash before going to lock your door. Just as you do you happen to hear your neighbor leaving his apartment too, you met him when you were in high school a student your brother taught, but now he was just your next door neighbor.

Sho pulls you along excitedly nearly causing you to crash into said person. “Sho heal.”

Just barely you catch yourself before you slam into the solid person next to you, giving a weak smile with your eyes closed you turn your head up a bit. “Sorry about almost running you over.”

“It’s fine y/n.”

Looking back to your dog you sigh. “Hope I’ll see you around.”

“Like wise.”

Though you did chance a little look, sometimes you could just barely look at someone and avoid activating your quirk.

That wasn’t the case because while Sho and you sat at a bench to get some shade you feel asleep. Finding yourself looking through someone else’s mind.

“Fuck.” You mumble trying to figure out if there was a way that you could wake up.

Waiting waiting for Sho to start scratching at you to wake up thought he probably wouldn’t do that, you’d probably have to wash your face when you got home cause he’ll lick you awake. Seeing through Shoji’s mind was different. You knew he was a hero, you just didn’t know he patrolled so close to your apartments.

Returning to your own body you blink a bit.

“This isn’t a very safe place to be sleeping,” he chuckles. “But it seems you have a good companion who’s worried about you.”

Looking down you reach to hug Sho. “I’m sorry baby, let’s go home. Thanks for waking me up.”

He nods giving a slight wave.

Shinso

Understanding any creature that had competent thoughts had its moments. It was basically a cheat skill to you, understanding your fur babies without having to spend thirty minutes arguing with them like your siblings. Milk and Tea sat on your stomach and chest respectively, both being adorable and restrictive to your breathing. “I’d like some space please, can you both sit on my legs instead?” You mumble. You receive two no’s. The thing was your quirk also worked on humans you simply never used it on them. “I gotta go buy food come on!” You urge. They both look at you like they thought you were lying. “It’s good for you.” Both cats jump off you and prance away like the spoiled brats they were. Giving you a moment to both use the restroom and grab your things to go run to the store and buy all that food. “Kitten?” You were so focused on tying your shoe properly that you failed to notice your boyfriend come inside. Shinso stood behind you while you tried to tie his shoes onto your feet, which didn’t work because you both had different shoe sizes. Thinking you heard something you were about to shoo away the cats because you knew it’d be a thirty minute chase if one of those pampered brats got outside. Only to hear. ‘Damn I doubt they’d notice if I poked them.’ More alert but unbalanced you try to move away from your brat of a boyfriend only to tip forward into the door. His eyes lock with yours as he shouts. “Wait!” “What?” Luckily you didn’t hit the door but not you were practically a rag doll into his hold. You hated when this happened. Once righted and able to stand you push him back. “Fuck you, Toshi, I was trying to tie my…” you look down finally realizing whose shoes you were wearing. “Why’d you move my shoes?” “I was tired, it was just on the same shelf.” He shrugs. “You good, Kitten?” “Mm, I’m fine. Also no poking,” you switch the shoes getting ready again. “You read my mind?” “I thought it was the cats.” “You always think it’s the cats.” You frown. “Fine the next time that the Sgt Fluff ball gets out again you’ll be the one to chase him.” “I- You wave with a smile. “I’m off to buy some cat food and dinner. You better tell me what you wanna eat.” You didn’t miss the threatening thoughts from just outside your door swinging it open forcefully. “Oops my bad.”

Aizawa

You were very excited to be working with other heroes your own age for once, not that weren’t thankful for your mentors you just felt like you were learning the same thing over and over from the older pro heroes. At sixteen you dropped out of school and found a hero to intern under, with the concentrated crime rate in your city instead of simply learning how to learn how to be a hero you were basically already a hero the only useful thing you learned was how to cause the least amount of property damage so you could have enough money to support yourself and your little brother. Now you were going to Japan to learn more about being a hero, your agency pretty much forced everyone to visit other countries in a sort of exchange program. But standing in front of other twenty somethings you felt like you’re mind was gonna a short circuit.

“H-hello name hero eh, I mean my hero name is Whiplash. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you, Gracious has nothing but nice things to say about Japan heroes,” You keep your head down embarrassed from the messy introduction.

You could just feel someone staring down your neck before you stood back up, then again you wore a full mask for your protection. “Your form said you already have six years experience on the field…”

Giving a little nod you look at the ground again. “Um while it’d be awesome if stars and stripes could be anywhere there is a problem there are some cities that ave atrocious crime rates.” Not wanting to talk about it again you smile. “I’m curious what hero schools are like though, I heard y’all get direct teaching from some of the best heroes.”

“They’re the same as hero schools in America right?” one young man frowns keeping his face covered with the scarf.

“Eh, I’ve visited the one in my state and that’s only true if you’re lucky enough to get a school with a ton of funding. The schools aren’t government funded they’re funded at a city or state level if anything and any school is lucky enough to get enough funding to keep up with the new regulations every year,” you shrug thinking a little bit about that small experience, you felt a bit angry just thinking about the state of the schools and how people had been treated.

“Whip.”

Blinking a bit you felt the blood drain from your face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It happens sometimes.”

You hadn’t realized you activated your quirk resulting in a small garden growing in the lobby.

“Well the lobby did look a little gray, I’m Eraser Head.” The young man holds his hand to you and you shake it.

“I can pick up the plants but I’ll use my next pay to fix the ground.” you mumble.

He shrugs. “I doubt they’ll know how to fix it.”

Yagi

“It was a bad idea marrying a hero Yagi.” “Shut up.” “He’s what how many years older than you?” “Five? Is that so terrible?” Your so called best friend was scolding you again. For getting married, it wasn’t even because of who you married they just used that to try and make their point seem more valid. You just wanted to work on your throwing, not listen to them complain since they themselves wanted so be married but never found the right person. “Come on he’s got to lack something.” Splashing them with the water you were using to help you work the clay you frown. “Either you change the topic or you know where the exit is Cole.” “Seriously? You’re gonna pick him over me? I thought you were a good friend.” As you pull the piece and their tone starts to irk you you felt your blood burning. They pulled every little transgression that they thought was so terrible when they were all instances you couldn’t help. Feeling then clay slip you stop the wheel and glare. “Shut up and leave!” It came out harsher than you intended. “I hear this enough from my mother now from you?” As you turn away all you could do was shout. This broke then glass divider, your voice wasn’t quite as powerful as your little brother’s bit you always hit that frequency to break shit. Just then your husband walks into the studio. “Oh dear.” “I’ll just see myself out,” Cole states quickly grabbing her things and brushing past Toshinori. You stare at the broken glass in disbelief. “Fuck, fuck.” Curses pour from your mouth as you hit yourself, though your hands weren’t clean so you got slip and clay ill over your face and hair as tears fell. Before you can do any real damage large arms wrap around you. “My dear be careful, we wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” “I messed up again,” you sniffle hiring your face into his shirt, why did he always wear white shirts? “Never fear I am here,” he whispers earring a slight chuckle through your sniffing. Hugging him back you frown mumbling into his chest. “What was that my love?” Pulling back a bit so could speak clearly you look up at him with a pout. “I think this time I need to install metal shelving.” “I believe that is the best course of action.” He rubs circles into your back as you bury your face into his chest again. “Guess what?” “What?” “My baby brother got into Yuuei.” “That’s wonderful my love should we send him a gift of congratulations?” You shake your head. “My mom will just throw it away. I’ll give him some spending money and take him the dinner the next time I’m in Musutafu.” Yagi Toshinori or more well know to the public as All might could be a kind man and gentle to his spouse. Not that any one knew he was married.

[laundrybiscuits]

“Eddie,” Robin says, eyes wide in a way that means trouble. “Edward Munson, I sincerely hope your last will and testament is in order, because you are going to completely and totally die when I tell you who just got hired at Scoops Ahoy.”

Eddie groans. “Don’t tell me Tammy Thompson is giving up on her Nashville dreams.”

“No, I hate you, shut up forever, you’ll never guess.” Robin pauses, then in a dramatic whisper she’s definitely picked up from Eddie himself, says: “Steve Harrington.”

“Jesus. No shit?”

“Yeah, I have to train him. Oh my god it’s the worst. He’s so bad at, like, everything.”

She shoves at his shoulder until he moves out of the doorway of the trailer, and flings herself backwards onto his couch. “Like! Okay! I showed up to my shift thinking it would be a completely normal day in which I would be bored out of my skull distributing frozen dairy products to the flotsam and jetsam of Hawkins, and Ned’s like, hey Robin, you’re showing the new guy the ropes today. And then that freaking jackass has the freaking nerve to say—” Her voice drops a full register. “Uhh, nice to meet you, I’m Steve. Nice to meet you! God!”

Eddie cringes sympathetically, sucking air between his teeth. There’s a special kind of indignity to being so completely and utterly below the radar of Hawkins High royalty, even former bearers of the crown. It’s not as if Hawkins is a big town; Eddie’s pretty sure he could pick every single person in the graduating classes of ‘84 and ‘85 out of a crowd. He’ll probably be able to do it for ‘86 too, though he’s trying not to think about it too hard. So he’ll be a senior again (again) this fall, whatever. It’s fine. It’s whatever.

Once in a while, he wastes some time really, really wishing he’d gotten to know Robin earlier in the year. Maybe even last year. For undying friendship reasons, yeah, but also because with her in his corner, he might’ve actually passed enough of his classes to fucking graduate on his second fucking try.

But he’d only actually met her, like actually met her for real instead of passing her in the hall sometimes, when he’d let himself get suckered into rejoining band. It wasn’t like he could’ve brought his guitar in, but he let it slip to Miss Genovese that he could read music and keep time, and they needed someone to wallop the bass drum, and he figured a little experience fucking around with percussion might be the one thing he could salvage from the year. He’d just…been so goddamn tired of feeling stuck, spinning his wheels. Music was something he could actually handle; something he could actually get better at. Something he could master. He's man enough to admit he needed a win.

The actual songs were all stuffy Holst and Sousa numbers, but they’d had some fun technical bits he spent his evenings hammering out for a couple weeks. And then right around the point when he’d gotten good enough to get bored and think about quitting like last time, it had somehow wound up that shooting the shit with the gangly weirdo in the trumpet section was one of the best parts of his day. Unfortunately, by the time they���d gotten close enough for her to start bullying him about homework and shit, it had been way too late to save his chance at walking that ‘85 stage with assholes like Steve fucking Harrington.

Not that Harrington would’ve even noticed, apparently.

“Anyway, the one singular saving grace about the entire situation is that he looks even dumber in the sailor costume than I do, so at least that will make me feel better about my life until he gets fired for burning down the ice cream freezer or something like that. Eddie, I cannot stress this enough: he is so bad at this job.”

Eddie very tactfully does not bring up the litany of screw-ups that Robin’s admitted to over the last couple weeks since she started at Scoops; he just says, “Buckley, it sounds to me like you might be in need of some quality relaxation time this fine evening. I can offer you a nice cold beer, some herbal refreshment…or a fiendishly weird new song to learn with an intro riff that'll make you cry.”

Robin, inveterate nerd of his heart, sits up immediately and chirps, “New song, please!” just like he knew she would. She’s going to run off and elope with his acoustic one of these days, and he’s not even mad about it.

“Coming right up, m’lady,” says Eddie. “I promise this entire Harrington situation will be over before you know it, and neither of us will ever have to think about him again.”

(ETA: First chapter of this fic has been edited/expanded and posted on AO3)

[sp0o0kylights]

oho? I love playing with character perceptions, so number 11 got my immediate interest!

AND THE LAST ASK for real thank you for sending in so many and another thank you to anyone who sent in any ask at all this was a blast:

Turns out this connected to a different document. I desperately need to clean out my drive ANWAY

11! "A large part of the Steve Harrington lore was that he left his throne, his popularity, childhood best friends, behind for Nancy Wheeler. This was a lie."

Snippet:

A thump as the object rolled out of its bag and onto the floor.

It was a wooden baseball bat, same as one might find anywhere--with one noticeable difference.

"Steve." Eddie said simply, eyes raking over the haphazardly hammered nails, some of which were bent from use, "What the hell is this?" 

Steve at least, had the good graces to look abashed. "Ahhh…" He said, trailing off as he clearly fished for anything other than the truth and came up empty. "A nailbat?"

Spoken out loud it even sounded like a fucking fantasy weapon.

"Is that blood all over it?" Eddie asked, tone amazingly even given the panic that galloped wildly through his chest. 

The fucking thing wasn't entirely covered but there was unmistakable red and black splatter that was either the product of the world's best prop artist, or the real deal.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think any of the blood is human." Steve said, who overall looked more embarrassed than anything.

Like Eddie has found his porno mags, and not whatever the hell this was. 

"No Steve, that does not make me feel better." Eddie managed to get out, the words a little strangled. "You don't think the blood's human? What the hell do you think it is!?"

Because he had to know. There was no way he could not know, with a literal McGuffin, sitting in between them.  

In fact this entire set up felt like something right of of a D&D scene and once Eddie was done panicking, he kinda wanted to write down a few notes. 

There was a very long, dedicated pause, where once again it became very clear Steve was racking his brain for a lie. 

Eddie let it go on, because he wanted to hear what possible excuse the guy could come up for this. 

Particularly given that Eddie had once shared an English class with him. Steve Harrington was about as imaginative as a child's first chapter book (and frankly, the book probably knew more words.)

"Rabid dogs?" Steve said, sounding more like he was guessing than anything else.  

How he had gotten away with lying to the cops about those house parties of his was a downright mystery.

"Rabid dogs that just might be human." Eddie deadpanned. 

Steve winced.

"I might have swung it at a few people." He admitted.

"No shit." Eddie said, staring at him flatly. It almost felt like he was two people for a moment--a perfectly calm one, demanding answers out of a nervous and clearly spooked Steve Harrington like disappointed mother discovering a baggie of weed--and a person who wanted to fucking book it, immediately.

Before Harrington lost his shit and started swinging the nailbat at him. 

There was no reason for King Steve, richest boy in town and previously its most popular (though given Hargroves penchant for violence, Eddie didn't doubt a lot of people would accept Steve back with open arms so long as the guy stood in between them) to own a clearly used homemade weapon. 

"Okay look, you've caught me in a lot of lies and I'm gonna be real with you, this one came with an NDA." Steve said finally, like that wasn't a wild string of words. "The less you know about it, the better."

And that, Eddie could agree with.

[mixtape-racha]

it's a scream, baby! | hyunlix

chapter nine: i'll be right back!

words: 1.79k // warnings: minor character death referenced, police presence, basically just lots of panic, main characters smoking a cigarette

OFFICIAL GHOSTFACE KILL COUNT: 005

 

(y/n) awoke with a start, someone hammering on her bedroom door like crazy. she rubbed her eyes, groggy from a lack of sleep, and an ache in her lower body from hers and felix’s late night activities. he had gone back to his own bed after, which (y/n) had pleaded with him to do because she couldn’t deal with the backlash from everyone else just yet.

“what?!” she called, annoyed at the interruption from her finally peaceful sleep. the door swung open, and minho walked in - a coffee in his hand, and his phone unlocked in the other.

“you need to get up, love. the principal called an emergency assembly in the auditorium in an hour… i think they found another body last night.”

(y/n)’s body went cold, her heart thumping in her chest. not again. at least she knew it wasn’t anyone in her dorm, everyone was home last night and minho would have said if anyone was missing.

he gently placed the coffee on her bedside table, a hand coming to rub her head affectionately.

“drink that and shower, yeah? once everyone’s up i’m going to make breakfast and we can all head down there together… you okay?” of course, minho noticed everything. he could tell from a mile away when she was going to cry, or scream, or throw up.

she just nodded softly, taking a sip of the coffee he had provided her - it was perfect, as usual.

“i’m good, min. just want this all to be over.” she sighed, her reassurance making him feel better about leaving her to get herself ready for the day.

although she probably shouldn’t have, (y/n) took her time showering - she gave herself time in the hot water to reflect on the past week, and ponder on what the future might hold. she hoped this emergency assembly wasn’t because of another murder, but deep down she knew there was no other reason for the university to be all up in arms like this. 

after showering, she threw on one of chan’s old sweatshirts that his mom had kindly given her - distributing various items he owned between the people he held dearest - as well as jeongin’s favorite necklace (which she was given for the same reason, and rarely took off unless to shower). paired with some sweatpants and crusty, old sneakers, she knew she looked a mess but was too far gone too really care.

when she finally left her room half an hour after minho first came in, she knew she’d have to rush to eat in order to get to the assembly on time, but she couldn’t avoid eating until once she was back in fear of worrying the boys.

and minho hadn’t lied when he said he’d make breakfast for everyone - toast, sliced fruit, even more coffee in a jug was sitting on the kitchen table - she happily took a seat between hyunjin and felix to join the foodfest, smiling at seungmin across the table to appease his worried expression.

breakfast, surprisingly, went absolutely fine that morning. it was the first time since losing chan and jeongin that things had felt relatively bordering on normal. while a huge part of her heart was missing, (y/n) felt an overwhelming comfort in being surrounded by her boys, even though such awful circumstances lead to it.

slowly, the group of seven made their way onto the main campus, finding huge crowds of people lingering outside the auditorium. when everyone began slowly filing in, the group were quick to make sure they could be seated together. (y/n) was carefully seated between minho and felix, seungmin on minho’s other side and the remaining three seated directly in front of the others.

the hall was filled with hushed voices, all discussing what they think happened, who they think the newest victim was. in a way, the morbid curiosity was bringing the community together. (y/n) tired to tune out every mention of the last two victims - hearing chan and jeongin’s names falling out of people’s mouths so easily made her feel a bit nauseous. it was only when the principal made his way to the podium in the center of the stage that the room went silent.

“good morning, students and faculty alike. as i’m sure you can imagine, we have been working hard and tirelessly behind the scenes to avoid keeping our students safe while they are living on our campus. we pride ourselves on being the quietest campus in this region of the country, and our students safety will always be our top priority.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes at that, not really believing a word the principal said - really, he just cared about his reputation and sponsor donations to keep the sports community running.

“however, with a heavy heart, we have to tell you that the invisible attacker has claimed the life of a sixth student of the woodsboro college. our hearts go out to the family and friends of lee jinyoung, who spent the past two years serving as our student council president.”

it was then a few gasps rang out across the auditorium. lee jinyoung was such a bright and kind person, one (y/n) had come across many times while working on the winter ball’s planning committee last year. the principal went onto explaining that jinyoung’s parents had given his permission to share some details - like how his body had been found in an alleyway just a minute away from the dorm block (y/n) lived in.  it was scarily close.

“we, as a staff, and also in compatibility with the local police force, have decided we can provide only a few solutions. all classes have been suspended until further notice. we will also be giving students the opportunity to choose between staying in their dormitories, or moving home or off campus, as in approximately four hours the campus will be put on full lockdown.

the police have kindly provided many officers to act as security around campus, and anyone leaving their dorm buildings after lockdown has begun will be escorted wherever they need to go. there will be a member of staff waiting in the lobby of each dormitory building when you return so you can confirm whether you will be staying, or leaving campus until we reopen. thank you.”

it felt like the entire auditorium was in shock, so silent you could hear a pin drop. no one knew what to say, how to act. the group of seven didn’t speak a word to one another until they’d left the auditorium and were congregated outside their dorm building. the stress was far too much, and (y/n) cursed as she dropped her lighter from her pocket.

she just needed a cigarette to calm her nerves, but even that couldn’t go right. changbin picked it up, lighting the tip of her roll-up for her with a soft smile.

“mind if it two’s it? i left my tin at the dorm.” (y/n) shook her head, handing the paper to changbin after she took a drag. they made small talk over the smoke, seungmin butting in to join or pinch a small drag once, but it was nice to have some one-on-one time with changbin while the others were discussing what the hell they should do.

it was only when they joined back into the circle, (y/n) tucking herself under jisung’s arm that changbin chimed in on the subject at hand.

“i mean… my parents are on a business trip until next friday, we can always go crash at mine? its more space than the dorms, and less restrictions on what we’re allowed to do.” he shrugged.

“well, to a certain extent,” minho added, side eyeing (y/n) carefully. “we still need to be cautious and sensible.”

the rest of the group ended up agreeing; planning to go back up to the dorm and pack whatever they needed before carpooling the changbin’s parents home the other side of town. it was a large house, but far enough on the outskirts of town to not have to worry about being caught in the middle. they could take a trip to the next town over to do their food shopping and for some air, and hopefully that would cover all bases they needed to worry about.

as they all headed in, and upstairs to begin their packing process, minho stayed a second to discuss their plans with the staff member waiting in the lobby. when he finally made it up to the dorm, he gathered everyone’s attention to clear up some things.

“okay, so obviously we need to be out of here in the next 3 hours at max, but thats plenty of time. we’re allowed to keep hold of our keys, and we don’t have to take all of our stuff. just enough to last us until they close up for summer, or reopen if that happens beforehand. changbin - you’re going to take jisung, (y/n) and felix in your car, and i’m going to take seungmin and hyunjin in mine. your car is bigger so it makes sense to put most people with you.”

everyone agreed, minho naturally filling the position as the dad of the group. he had a presence that commanded respect, and it was a quality (y/n) appreciated massively. she didn’t know what they’d do if they lost him too, it would be like a group of lost puppies without an owner left to fend for themselves.

they quickly began packing up anything they thought they might need, each restricting themselves to a suitcase and a duffle bag (maybe a backpack too, if necessary). it only took them all around an hour, going further to offer food to the students staying on campus that they had no need for when they’d be at changbin’s.

once they’d all figured everything out that they needed to in the dorms - turning off the boiler, making sure all the plugs were switched off - they headed to fill the cars up. (y/n) tried to make herself feel better by telling herself to see it as a vacation, but it was difficult. the police finding the case so cryptic, so confusing, with no obvious motive, that the entire had to go into lockdown.

and the drive to changbin’s was quiet. jisung had called shotgun, so (y/n) and felix were sat in the back, hands gently intertwined as a show of support for one another - felix was very sensitive, and (y/n) could tell he was finding it harder than everyone else.

when they pulled into the driveway as his massive family home, changbin just hoped they were out the way enough to escape the madness taking place in town.

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[playername-player-of-games]

and here’s part 3! here’s part 1 and part 2 - and here it is on ao3! - once again inspired by @chrisrin ’s gemcyt au :D

//

What was he thinking?

Joel slips out of the palanquin with two gems in hand. When he gets a moment he’ll bubble them, but for now he needs to run.

What was he thinking?

He slips past soldiers- gems that are twice his size and eight times his weight, each one tougher than the last. How he managed to slip past them the first time is beyond him, but now he’s doing it again.

What was he thinking?

He chalks it up to the cloak- it’s making all his green-ness blend in with the night as he runs, and keeps his two new treasures from catching too much light.

What. Was. He. Thinking.

A topaz looks his way- he throws himself behind a tree trunk, holding as still as possible. He doesn’t move, doesn’t think, doesn’t do anything for a solid five minutes.

Seriously, what was he thinking.

He dares to peek at his treasures.

In his right hand, Pink Diamond’s gem.

In his left, her new pearl.

He’s SO dead.

“I’m going to be shattered for this,” he breathes, peeking out from his tree and taking off running again, a little sing-song despite his oncoming demise, “I’m so shattered for this! Grian’s actually going to shatter me this time!”

He’s done many a stupid thing over the years, (falling off cliffs, fighting a bear, the…arson)- but this takes the cake. Grian’s going to shatter him. Grian is going to take one of Iskall’s hammers, and he is going to put Joel on the table, and he is going to smash his gem up into little bits and-

“Joel!" a voice hisses.

Joel stumbles to a stop and looks to the brush to find his brother. Jimmy is gesturing for him to come here, NOW, so Joel dives for him and lands at his feet.

“Where were you?!” Jimmy demands, tugging Joel upright by the wrist and finding the pearl in his hand, “who’s this?”

“Nobody!” Joel hisses, bubbling the pearl with one hand and hiding Pink Diamond behind his back. He taps the bubble’s top and then it's gone, whisked away to his tent where hopefully nobody will find it, “it’s nobody, don’t worry about it!”

Jimmy doesn't press him for details, just tugs him down into the brush as another topaz patrol passes. Joel likes that about him, they've known each other for hundreds of years and Joel can still get away with whatever he wants because Jimmy is too nice for his own good.

"Come on," Jimmy climbs out of the bush and starts sneaking back towards base once the topaz is well out of sight, "they're wondering where you ran off to."

"I didn't run off to anywhere," Joel snaps, trying to keep his hands from shaking, (and failing miserably), "I just- got lost."

"Joel, you know this planet better than the gems who lived here before you."

"It's dark!"

A twig snaps. They each dive under the bushes again, laying as flat as possible. Jimmy raises an eyebrow at him, and Joel glares.

"What?" he hisses, "you've never seen an elite fighter gem get lost in the dark? It's not like I have night vision, Jimmy."

He rolls his eyes. "Sure, yeah."

Joel pokes his head up. The coast is clear. He rolls out of the bush and leaves Jimmy behind to fend for himself, (take that Jimmy), but then he falls into step next to him, one wing whacking him wetly on the head.

"Seriously Joel," Jimmy asks, "where were you?"

Okay, so maybe sometimes Jimmy does press for details. He never follows through though, so Joel doesn't answer. (He doesn't know how to answer.) He shrugs.

They're quiet all the way back to base. Jimmy glares at him for most of it, but he can't bring himself to care. His hands tremble under his cloak. If Jimmy is suspicious, he hasn't mentioned it. They're passing the warp pad, Joel has to act now, act fast, go go go-

"Oh, you know what?" he jumps onto the warp pad, "I've just remembered I was going to do something elsewhere for a bit! I'll catch up with you later, Jimmy!"

"Wh- Joel!" Jimmy protests, but he's already warping, awash in a stream of light that sends him across the planet- away from Jimmy, away from base, away from the palanquin and his problems, and lands at the edge of a roofed forest.

And he runs.

He doesn't know where he's going, (Left, left, left, he's going in circles), feels like he's cornering himself each time he ducks around a giant trunk. He's grateful for his cloak, for the cover of night.

Pink Diamond's gem begins to glow.

"Not yet, My Diamond, please."

He's faster now, (he got a head start), and this time he goes right, dashing around a trunk, and finds himself in a clearing, catching himself before he trips over a stump. Moonlight spills over him as if someone tipped it out of a bucket, filtering through leaves and making the whole clearing glow like a hazy dream.

He takes a step over the stump- then another. Then three more. Pulls off his hood and falls to his knees when his legs finally, finally give out.

Did he really just do that?

He brings his hands in front of him- cupping Pink Diamond's gem in his hands. She's waiting for him. He doesn't know how to explain it- but he knows she's waiting.

He really just did that.

"Oh, what am I doing?" he whispers, pushing one hand through his hair, "I can't- I can't hide a Diamond."

Then, to his horror, she begins to glow.

He yelps- nearly dropping her- and sits in stunned silence as she reforms in front of him- her hair is longer, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her head bowed, her eyes closed.

There she is.

He falls into that familiar diamond salute, tears rolling down his face.

"My Diamond?"

Pink Diamond opens her eyes- they widen when they meet his.

And the world stops breathing.

"Pearl?"

"Joel," he answers, correcting on instinct, then backtracks- "ah, but you don't- you don't have to call me that, it's just the name I picked when- when I came to this plan-”

Her hand brushes lightly against his jaw, and he promptly shuts up. She tilts his head just so, brushes her fingers up along his jaw until she’s cupping his cheek.

"Joel," she whispers, brushing away his tears with her thumb. Her smile is subtle- the moonlight makes her own tears seem to glow- “that’s a good name.”

And he laughs, and he cries, and he drops his salute because she's still His Diamond, even after- after six hundred years-

"Thank you," he says, bringing his own hand up to cup gently around hers, "I was hoping you would like it."

She smiles, real and bright and lovely as ever, then uses her other hand to brush her fingers through his hair, "you changed your hair! It's all black now."

"Not- not all of it!" he says, and uses his other hand to string through his fringe, "this front bit's still green."

“It’s so much longer!” she brushes through it with both hands and playfully swats him in the face with the ends, “are you trying to steal my look?”

“No, no! I just like it long-!” he laughs as she squishes his face between her palms, “My Diamond, please-!”

Grief crashes over them like a tidal wave.

It’s been six hundred years. The garden is different now- what should be the laughter of humans is now singing crickets. Grief and fear morph into one, crushing them on all sides. They imagine this is what gravity feels like to most beings.

They don’t need to breathe, but they gasp for air anyway as they open their eyes, (all four of them), and tears spill onto the grass. The grief settles heavy in their chest, eclipsed by fear, then seemingly melting away- shadowed by- by-

“I missed you,” it whispers, its lower set of arms hugging itself tightly. Its upper set of hands reaches up to wipe away tears. It laughs as its eyes make rain, as fear melts into relief, “I missed you so much.”

It cries- they cry- and they laugh, all four arms wrapping around themself, and relief turns warm and floaty like this planet’s sun, and they’re encompassed by the warmth, by something that feels like- like-

(Stars, there is so much love.)

They tilt their head back- their eyes find the moon. A smile finds their lips. All at once, they’re home.

“Your planet is beautiful,” she whispers like a precious secret, “you-you’ve visited so much of it!”

And love turns giddy, and excited, and suddenly they can’t stay kneeling in the dirt.

“Oh, I wish I could- I wish I could go, right now,” he answers themself, and gets to its feet to search for flowers, picking up right where it left off. Its cape unfurls, drifting lightly behind it in a way that is impossibly comforting.

This is familiar, though this time they aren’t in a boat, or trekking through sand or stuck in an exhibit millions of light years away.

“These flowers will mean more than lily pads, or…dead bushes?” they murmur, then laugh, “it seemed like a good idea at the time! Everyone thought it was amusing, at least.”

Pink, blue, white, yellow-

“It’s a shame there’s no green flowers,” they begin to gather a bouquet, stashing it in their lower set of hands, “it’s alright! The leaves’ll make up for it.”

They find a boulder to sort out their flowers on. The bouquet fits nicely on one side, four hands make quick work. They sit, twisting stems together.

“How did you get to Earth?” she asks, and the fingers on their lower hands link together neatly as the upper two work.

“Etho took me,” he answers. He feels like he’s messing up this crown, but her gentle corrections are helping- (it’s weird, sharing arms)- “he ah- he has some friends, an emerald and a ruby, and they took me to earth.”

They hum, “do you like it here?”

He answers with memories of the first few days on this planet, Impulse’s tour, the three days spent in a little hole in the wall, of his chat with Jimmy, and everything that came after. Latching himself onto a new master, being taught to fight with a sword. Becoming a knight, all the poofing, changing his form. He pauses in the flower crown crafting to show them their gloves- only to be met with the watermelon-mesh that is them together like this.

They laugh, “You can show me later. I’m excited to see.”

And they fall back into memories, into stories- of falling off a cliff and catching himself with fusion. Of meeting Etho again, finally being able to see the gems who took him here after a hundred years. Of choosing his name. Of planting a garden, of taking down Homeworld gems, of fusing with Jimmy, for fun, for pranks, to make fun of Grian, how un-fusing had been sudden, a shock of-

It gently places the now-finished flower crown on its head, and remembers the horrified looks on the guard’s faces.

“Joel,” she whispers, suddenly distant, lower hands wrapping around them again- holding them together- “if there- if there hadn’t been guards-”

It’s her turn for memories now- in a single blink they’re back, sitting in the sunshine of the Human Zoo. He sees himself running away, the five ruby guards who sprinted after him and the two amethysts who stayed behind crowding around them.

Are you alright, My Diamond, they ask, but it can’t hear them. She looked down at her hands, trembling. Moments ago he’d- he’d been looking at her, terrified of her for the first time in a millennia-

“If- if there hadn’t been guards, I-”

He wouldn’t have run.

He wouldn’t have run.

Another tear escapes- it wipes it away, laughing again. It would have been their secret.

They would have fused again.

“I wouldn’t have- I wouldn’t have turned you in,” she whispers, resting her fingers over his gem on their chest, “I missed you.”

Crashing- footsteps. Their head snaps up when an aquamarine appears with several gems in tow. He’s glaring at them.

“I knew it,” Grian hisses, then-

-Joel lands on his back, hard, and scrambles onto his feet.

“Grian- Grian this isn’t wha-”

“It’s exactly what it looks like!” Grian shouts, “you gem-napped a Diamond!”

Joel flinches. Mumbo and Impulse look deeply uncomfortable. Jimmy just looks disappointed.

“Okay, yes, I did do that, but it’s fine, Grian! She can just-”

“She can just what?!” Grian snaps, “Just go back to Homeworld? Fuse with one of our best gems in the force, learn all of our secrets, then go back to Homeworld and report to the other Diamonds? Can she, Joel?”

“When you put it like that-”

“IT’S BAD!”

The air between them is slowly frosting over.

“LOOK I just-” Joel shoves one hand through his hair, gesturing wildly with the other, “I missed her, okay? I wasn’t- I wasn’t thinking ahead!”

Her hand slips into his, giving the tiniest supportive squeeze.

“That’s the problem, Joel! You never think ahead! We get word that Pink Diamond is on-planet and suddenly you’re nowhere to be found!”

“Well, I’m sorry if I care about her more than your little rebellion!”

If he thought the air before was icy- this is an entire tundra. His voice hangs in the air like moments before a snowstorm, and Grian’s glare turns murderous.

Mumbo and Impulse share a glance, readying their weapons. Joel squeezes His Diamond’s hand.

“I mean that,” he realizes, though it’s always, always been true. He’ll fight if he has to. “I care about her more than anything.”

He can see the split second Grian considers bringing out his own weapon, but then Pink Diamond speaks.

“I could be talked into rebellion.”

And time comes to a complete halt.

What.

“E-excuse me?” says Grian.

“Your rebellion against the diamonds,” she smiles, “Joel had a very convincing argument.”

And like the sun at the end of a snowstorm, the tundra between them begins to melt.

“I-I see,” Grian blinks, looking to her, then to Joel, then back to her, “well- ah- welcome aboard, then.”

“Oh- oh! Do I need a disguise? I’ve always wanted to-”

She releases his hand and takes a step back- in one glowing moment she’s Pink Diamond- and the next she’s shorter, her hair curled, her dress shorter, her gem turned inwards to hide the point. When she opens her eyes, you’d never be able to tell she was a diamond.

She does a twirl, throwing her hair back with both hands dramatically, “what do you think?”

“Y-you’re beautiful, My Diamond,” Joel answers immediately, “but are you sure?”

“Of course!” she takes his hand again- much easier now that she’s only a head taller than him instead of three times his size- “I’m terrible at keeping secrets anyway.”

“You’ll need a new name,” Grian tells her. “You can’t be Pink Diamond anymore.”

“Rose Quartz,” she answers, flipping her hair again. Then she frowns. “I want a name like yours and Joel’s.”

“We’ve got some books back at base,” Impulse cuts in, (Joel forgot he was here), “you can pick a name out of those!”

“Your pearl can too,” Grian says, and oh stars, Joel forgot about her pearl-

“I don’t think Pearl will want a new name,” Pink Diamond- no, Rose Quartz-  laughs, “but I’ll talk her into joining the rebellion.”

To that, Grian nods. Tension melts from Mumbo’s shoulders when Grian turns and starts heading back to the warp pad. Impulse offers them a bright smile before heading back himself. Jimmy approaches them, and punches Joel’s arm.

“Hey-!”

“That’s for keeping secrets,” Jimmy says, hands on his hips, “you’re an idiot.”

Joel sticks out his tongue. Jimmy returns the gesture, then offers Rose a diamond salute.

“Lovely to see you again,” he says, then stretches out his arms with the biggest smile on his face, “welcome to Earth!”

“Why thank you, it’s lovely to be here,” she answers, returning his smile. Joel offers his arm and she loops her hand around so he can escort her back to the warp pad, “and it’s lovely to see you as well, Joel thinks of you so fondly.”

“Aww, does he?”

Joel sputters, “no I don’t!”

“He thinks of you like a brother.”

Jimmy puts his hand over his gem and teases, “Aww, Joel, babe.”

“We are not talking about this anymore,” Joel insists.

“Joel talks about you all the time,” Jimmy continues, ignoring him, “at least twice a day since he came to Earth.”

“Aww, Joel!”

“We’re warping now!” Joel insists, “you’re going to ruin my reputation!”

And they laugh, bright as the sun, like siblings, like family, and Joel smiles before they’re all swallowed by a stream of light.

[lena-honey-writes]

the good & the bad

you're having an anxiety attack, and matt helps you feel better.

(hurt/comfort, 1200 words)

warnings: mentions of prescription medication and descriptions of anxiety.

**i myself have anxiety, so i'm basing this off of some of my own experiences with anxiety attacks.

request guidelines

~~~~~~

The day starts off well. 

You’re about a year into your relationship with Matt, whom you’d met through a fundraiser dinner that had been held by your previous job as a paralegal at Davis & Cooper. Nelson, Murdock, & Page had been in attendance as well, and the second Karen introduced you to Matt, the two of you had been smitten. After a string of failed relationships, this felt like fate—this was the man you’d be with for a long, long time. 

Of course, finding out he was Daredevil had put a little damper on the relationship for a bit, but you’re doing better now. You didn’t blame Matt for hiding that side of him when you had secrets of your own.

Now, you’re working at Matt’s firm, taking over the paralegal position from Karen, and today had started off well. It’s a busy morning—you have a lot of those—but most of the time, the work feels good. It feels good to know that you’re helping people, no matter how small your role might be. Plus, it’s nice to know that you’re working with your boyfriend and friends. It’s a much better environment than Davis & Cooper, and you’re not even biased about that. 

But things are different today, because around two hours after the office had opened, you’d had to deal with a particularly stubborn man who hadn’t agreed with the methods set by the firm, and it had set something off inside of you. 

You’d been diagnosed with anxiety a couple of years ago, right around the time you’d started out at Davis & Cooper (funny timing, right?) and were on medication for it. But, as luck would have it, you’d run out the previous week and hadn’t had time to refill your prescription. 

Now, you guess, you’re paying the price for it. 

Your head spins when you get up from your desk, and you have to steady yourself against it with your hip, holding onto the file in your hands tightly so you don’t drop it. Your breath catches in your throat, pulse hammering in your head. It feels like there’s a vice around your ribs, squeezing your organs into paste. 

Shit, shit, shit. You take a deep breath, silently as you can, but it rattles in your lungs. And, well, nothing you do could ever be truly silent when you’re dating and working with Daredevil. 

“Are you okay?” Matt asks, as if knowing he’s on your mind. 

Your head jerks up, eyes landing on him. “What?”

“Your heart,” he says. “It’s beating quicker than usual, and your breathing is uneven. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, even though you know he’ll sense the lie and call you out for it later. “I’m fine. Promise.”

Matt’s glasses hide most of his emotions, but you can see the tightening of his face. Still, he doesn’t say anything, just nods and turns back to his work. The lie only makes your chest feel even more constricted, and you have to grip the file to steady your hands. 

You continue working, going about the next few hours with your anxiety still high in your throat. You’ve been living with it for long enough that you’re usually pretty good at hiding it, even when it’s bad. Medication has helped too—when you’re consistent with it, it’s almost nonexistent. Right now, none of the clients seem to notice anything. Karen and Foggy don’t either. Which is good, because the last thing you’d want is for your stupid anxiety to slow you all down. 

But, yeah, there’s Matt. Matt is bound to notice. He notices almost everything. 

“Sweetheart, I need to talk to you for a second.”

You catch Karen’s eye across the room, and she shrugs. You get up and walk unsteadily towards Matt’s office and find him sitting behind his desk, face eerily blank. 

“Shut the door,” he says quietly. 

Once you do, you take the seat across from him. “Is everything okay?”

“Are you?”

You freeze. It feels like there’s a bee crawling along your neck, buzzing incessantly. It doesn’t feel good. 

“Your heart has been beating almost twice as fast as it usually does,” Matt continues at the same volume. “Your breathing hasn’t evened out. You got lightheaded earlier. And, baby, you lied to me about it.” His voice breaks off a little at the end, and your heart cracks. “You’re in pain. I don’t—I don’t know what’s going on. Please, if you can—please tell me.”

You stay silent for a moment, mouth dry. Your chest aches. Your hands are trembling. Your head hurts. 

“What is it?” he asks gently, as if he can sense your nerves. “You can tell me anything. If you’re sick or hurt, I want to be able to help you.”

You clear your throat, and when you speak, it feels like the words are made of broken glass. “I think I’m going to have an anxiety attack, Matt.”

He straightens up, worry creasing his forehead. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We’re so busy today,” you say as he gets up from his seat and rounds the desk to stand in front of you. He reaches up, cupping your cheek, fingers pressing to your pulse point. You lean into his touch, eyes sliding shut, and it’s then that you feel a tear slip down your cheek. “I just—I didn’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“You’re never an inconvenience, sweetheart,” he says softly, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “What do you need, baby? Do you need to go home?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” you say. You hesitate. “Can you just hold me for a few minutes?”

“Of course.”

He pulls you onto the couch squeezed against one wall of his office, and he wraps his arms around you, letting you lean into him. He smells like cinnamon-tinged aftershave and clean laundry, a combination that’s so distinctly him that it immediately soothes every nerve in your body. His arms, strong from being Daredevil for so many years, are better than any weighted blanket, and before long, you feel yourself turning to putty against him. 

Matt presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “Heart’s slowing down.”

You hum. Your chest doesn’t feel as tight anymore. It makes it easier to talk. “I got diagnosed a few years ago. Usually it’s not that bad, but today…”

“What happened?” he asks. 

“I haven’t been able to refill my medication,” you confess. “Haven’t had time.”

“We’re going to lunch right now,” he says. 

You pull away, alarmed. “We’re not on lunch for another couple hours.”

“I’m taking you to the pharmacy, and while we’re waiting for your prescription to get filled, I’m going to buy burgers for both of us,” Matt says. “If you want, of course.”

There’s a tightness in your chest again, but not because of anxiety. It’s because you just—you love this man so much. It hurts, but it’s a good pain. The best kind, because it means you’re alive, and you have him. 

“I love you,” you say, leaning in and kissing him. He smiles against your lips. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

~~

And, well. They’re the best damn burgers you’ve ever had in your entire life.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Ruhn Danaan x Reader | Like I Do

type: fluff, smut warning(s): curse words, explicit descriptions, unprotected sex, use of guns word count: 3k words request: @kennedy-brooke: hi lovely 🖤 i hope you are doing okay! idk if youre taking requests- but if by some chance you are (if not just completely ignore the ask i promise i wont be offended) would you be willing to write a ruhn oneshot? enemies/rivals to loversish with a fluffy ending (maybe smut if ur feeling up to it).  i genuinely LOVE that u write for him, esp bc he is criminally underwritten for (smh) and i just know youd do it justice <3 xoxo -k

- all rights reserved -

The gun is hot against your palm when the bullet just about an inch misses bull's eye. A frustrated groan leaves you, but a second later turns into an annoyed one.

“Close, but not close enough.” Tossing your braid over one shoulder and fully pushing back the earmuffs that have only covered one ear and now land on your shoulders, you glance back and lift a brow at the starborn prince that is casually leaning against the doorframe, a grin on his lips.

“Your business?”

“I am just trying to be helpful.” “Fuck off.” You turn back and place the small gun down, wanting to reach for a bigger one when a presence moves close to you. The scent of cologne and night fills your nostrils and you desperately try to not inhale. You hate him. You hate him so much.

Or…you want to hate him. You want to hate him so much. But you can't. Something has always been pulling you towards him and that is stressing you out. Not only because Pollux would do unspeakable things to you if he found out but also because he is Ruhn Danaan, Crown Prince of the Valbaran fae and you really, really don't want to have feelings for such a spoiled git. 

“Let me help you,” Ruhn says and closes the door behind him with the kick of his foot.

“I really don't need help from someone like you," you growl and feel anger burn inside your veins. 

He fakes hurt and folds a hand over his heart. “Ouch, that hurt." “Good.”

Ruhn chuckles lowly, watching you as you reach for a gun, one that is bigger than the one you just had.

“Really? That one?” Ruhn questions, his presence making you terribly angry. And nervous. And…aroused. What the hell is wrong with you? you ask yourself. 

You roll your eyes, more at yourself but you hope he takes the hint—that his presence is not welcomed. 

“Oh, so you think I cannot handle a big gun?” You put some stress to the word big and gun, slowly sucking your lower lip between your teeth while you give the starborn prince a once over.

Ruhn chuckles casually while his blood runs hot. And not only his skin but also one very specific body part tightens at how you have spoken the words. He has no doubt you can handle a big gun, but he internally knows that it will be his end to see you lift that rifel onto your shoulder and fire.

Oh, does he want to hate you. The Hammer being your lover should already make all the alarm bells in his head ring and it is probably your biggest red flag. Ruhn has wanted to hate you since the moment he met you, you are so proud and arrogant, but he cannot. It seems like a sheer impossibility, so all he can do is pretend and pretend only.

And that nearly drives him insane, because look at you – the most stunning, gorgeous female he has ever seen. Beautiful lips, soft skin, captivating eyes, your are breathtaking and outstand—

“Done drooling?” Your brow cocks up, challenge glowing like bright flames in your eyes. 

The starborn prince’s nostrils flare, his eyes narrowing on you and he huffs a chuckle. “I wasn’t drooling.” Pushing your hip of the counter, you move to him, standing so close you are nearly breathing the same air. Your gazes lock and one could cut the tension with a knife when you place the not yet loaded gun under his chin, tipping it up. “You totally were, princeling.”

Ruhn’s lips form a smirk when his slender fingers curl around the gun and he moves your hand away from his jaw, but only to pull you to him, both your hands and the gun trapped between your bodies. 

“Maybe thinking of you handling a big gun truly makes me drool,” Ruhn says, his voice dropping at least an octave. The deep tenor reverberates through you, making your toes curl. Ruhn is rewarded with hearing the breath hitch in your throat and he takes this moment to lean in, his brow raising when his eyes trail your features. 

“So prove to me that you can truly work with such a big gun.” A smirk appearing on your lips and colour blooming high on your cheeks, you pull your hand out of his hold, step backwards and turn around so you can walk back to the stall where you put your gun down and pick up a bigger rifle.

“I thought you said big and not as small as this tiny thing.” Cackling, you flash him a grin over your shoulder, mischief sparkling in your eyes. “I bet that’s what most girls say to you in the bedroom.”

Every irrational thought has definitely left him, Ruhn thinks, because he finds your teasing more than erotic. He tries to glower, a small growl leaving him before a grin parts his lips. “Feisty little thing.” Now you huff, the tone rather playful than annoyed. “Take that back.” “Only if you hit bull's eye.” You wave your hand, that is not holding the gun at him, rolling your eyes and turn back, your whole focus going to the target. And damn him. You immediately lose focus again when his figure moves closer to you, towering over you, his chest nearly against your back. 

“Can you step back?” you snap, almost growling at him.

“Why? Am I making you nervous?” His voice is taunting, a sweet whisper brushing down your spin. You hate this, you hate what he does to you. 

“No,” you say and push your elbow backwards, shoving him softly. “I just need space.”

He chuckles, but gets the memo and gives you some more space—not much though. 

You pop on the glasses again, and move the ear cuffs up, hefting the bigger rifle into your hands. Weighing it in your arms, you grin, hoping it will annoy him that you indeed can handle this big boy. 

I’ll be dammed, Ruhn thinks when he cannot move his eyes away from you, his gaze following the movement of your fingers brushing over the chassis, stroking all the way down to the butt plate. He swallows hard and clear his throat, his hardening cock a painful ache behind his tight pants. You fit the gun to your shoulder with graceful simplicity. All your focus is finally on the target. 

And then…

Ruhn nearly comes at the sight of you firing and aiming bull’s eye. His mouth gapes, a silent gasp leaving him. “Fuck.”

He internally thanks every god and higher being that you wear those cuffs and have not heard him. He is still in admiration when you turn to him, removing the ear cuffs, then the glasses and placing all things down on the counter. Ruhn wants to praise you for the shot, but he cannot give you that just then.

“Good, but still a lot you need to work on.” He is a cocky ass bastard, you decide once again. And Ruhn also knows that himself, but he just loves seeing you angry, all riled up, because this is what gets him worked up. Until meeting you he has had no idea that anger could be so hot, would turn him on so much.

“You know what, Ruhn, I really don’t care and I am anyways done for today. I am done here.” Shoving his shoulder, you brush past him, ripping the door open, dashing outside. 

He annoys you and you know that the longer you stay with him the more it will hurt. Because this hate, this hate for him does not specifically come from him being a dick. It comes from your raging feelings for him. But your are stuck with Pollux and Ruhn hates you, so leaving Pollux would not be the solution to the problem, you would just be alone. 

So you have to get out, get away from him. It is too much, and your hopes and dreams of what could be if you and Ruhn—

You shut your mind down and clamp your mouth shut when you run into the locker room, adjoint to the shower room. For a moment you just sit there, on one of the benches, staring at the opposite wall. Over the blood rushing in your ears from how many thoughts are coursing through your mind and the emotions bubbling up inside of you, you don’t even hear the door open. 

Until—

You jump to your feet and your jaw drops to the ground. The starborn prince leans against the threshold leading to the bathroom, and is wearing just a towel around his waist. Your eyes lower for a moment, following the tattoos on his chest, his arms, glancing at his strong, solid muscles, his pierced nipples, moving up again to his lip ring, he is currently sucking between his teeth. 

Your body flushes hot, and your have to first catch your breath to say something. Ruhn is quicker though. 

“Sorry,” he says woth graceful simplicity —so casually, so cool, like it will make everything good. Like this word would solve all your problems.

You are irritated because in this very moment you don’t even know what he would be apologising for. 

He has been cocky, yes, but that is it. He has done nothing wrong other than teasing and taunting you.

“I really dislike you, Ruhn,” you say with a smile on your face when you lift your gaze to his.

“A sweet little liar you are.”

“Wasn't lying,” you drawl and take a step closer to him. Ruhn also pushes of the threshold, eyes roaming your figure. “Nobody can hate some one and look at them like that.” Your voice is a breathy whisper when you ask, “Like what?” “Like you are stripping me bare with your eyes, imagining what is underneath that,” —Ruhn’s hand falls to his lower abdomen— “towel.”

You swallow thickly, desire clouding your vision. 

“Something very little and tiny, I assume.” You grin, hoping to have landed a blow to his ego. But Ruhn only shakes his head and laughs. “Want to find out?” Your mind, and heart, and also your lady parts scream YES in unison when your lips part and you avert your gaze.

“Idiot,” you huff instead, trying to focus on anything but his private parts. Those thoughts you only allow in the dead of night. 

“You are a starborn dick, Ruhn.”

His shoulders shake with silent laughter and Ruhn wipes one hand over his towel. “Yeah, I assume my dick has star potential…which brings me back to the topic.” He pauses, silently regarding and assessing you. He can see the desire in your eyes, your arousal so poignant, so delicious, your passion just as acute as his own.

Ruhn knows that this is the last chance to make you his. He knows if he lets you go again today there will never be a future for the two of you, and as much as he wants to hate you, he cannot bring himself to do so. So this is his last chance. That is why he is pulling all registers. “So we are going to shower together now? Angry fucking is always a good option.”

“I hate you.” A silly grin spreads over your whole face.

Ruhn’s hand brushes up your arm, to your shoulder and he curls his finger under the strap of your top. “Is that a yes?”

Your hands meet his chest first, then your lips close over his and you push him back agains the wall behind him. “Yes,” you breathe into his mouth, lips moving against each other, devouring the other. The kiss is passionate, hungry, like you have been longing, yearning for each other your whole life. 

And it truly feels like this. Ruhn can't get enough, his hands are all over you, pulling your shirt up, unclipping your bra and tossing it away. He turns the two of you, you are now pressed against the wall, his hand moving over your chest, cupping your breast.

“So perfect,” the starborn prince groans against your neck, lips moving over the skin in a bruising kiss that has you moaning. His thumb rubs your taut nipple, before rolling it between his finger and his thumb. “Do that again.” And as bad as you do not want to do it again, you do, a moan parting your lips, your head falling back to the bathroom wall, eyes closing.

Finges curling around the edge of his towel, you simply pull it away, the starborn prince now in front you in all his nude glory. And gods, is he beautiful.

His erection is a hard press against your lower belly when his hips rub against you. His hands sliding down your sides, softly squeezing your hips, before moving to your rear. He helps you out of your leggings, pulling the little piece of nothing that is your underwear down your legs as well.

“Did you put them on already planning ahead?” Ruhn rasps in your ear, before pushing of the wall behind you and lifting the panties. “Going to keep them by the way.” 

And with that he tosses them over to his bag, them landing perfectly in it.

“Ruhn!” you express loudly.

“Remember that name for when you come. Would like to hear you scream it.”

The starborn prince winks, amused by your stunned expression. You shove at his shoulder, laughing, but when his palm touches your lower belly, fingers splayed out, the laughter dies down. A gasp slips through your lips when Ruhn slides his hand lower, his heated gaze not leaving you, his lips still a smirk.

His middle finger touches the apex of your thighs and he once again leans into you. “You want this, right?”

Soft lips brush your jaw, your own hand sliding up Ruhn’s arm, over his shoulder, his neck, finding its place in the hair at the nape of his neck. You bring his mouth to yours, nipping softly at his lower lip. “Nothing I want more.”

This must have been his undoing—all restraints are gone.

Ruhn parts your hot flesh, sliding one, then two fingers inside of you, groaning at the wetness he is met with. “Always so wet for me?” he says, lips mere inches form his, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. You reward him with a grin, your own fingers curling around his proud length, stroking him, your thumb brushing the crown where a bead of liquid has already built up.

“Can return the question,” you pant, “always so hard for me?” Ruhn adds a third finger when he says, “Never not hard when I am around you.” Something tells you that this is the truth and you find it…incredibly hot. 

When desire and need fully overflow the two of you, it all gets too much, the rising lust and need hardly bearable any longer. Ruhn’s fingers slip out of you. You kiss down his neck, still working him, the ungodly sound of him suckling on his fingers, the ones that have been inside of you, making you clench your thighs, your walls squeezing around nothing.

He moans low in his throat, nothing tastes like you, he knows that. The only thing he will need in his life from now on.

Your moan, the silent plea Ruhn understands, draws his attention fully back to you. His eyes darker than usual, ablaze, move over your face, stopping at your lips. “Jump,” he says and kisses you again, hands grabbing your ass, lifting you up, pushing you against the wall when you simultaneously bring the tip of his rigid cock to your entrance. He slides in with ease, having prepared you well, his length stretching you out, filling you so perfectly. And you fit perfectly, like his cock has been made exactly for you. 

A groan makes Ruhn press an open-mouthed kiss against your jaw, hips softly moving against yours. Your curl your legs around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders from how tightly you hold onto him.

“So wet and and tight, sweetheart,” Ruhn drawls, licking over your ear.

“Just for you, starborn prince.” Your raspy voice has his cock twitching and he pushes harder into you, pounding you against the tile wall, skin slapping against skin, but also against the wall. The sounds are so wet, so sinful. Also the pöace you have chosen is somehow a sin.

Are you truly letting Ruhn, the starborn prick, fuck you in the bathroom or a public olace?

"I bet he can't fuck you like I do."

A strangled cry leaves you in response because he truly can't.

"Say it!" Ruhn commands. "Say that he can't fuck you like I do." "No one can fuck me like you do. It is only your cock that–"

You cry out loudly, Ruhn’s name mixing with curses, when your throw your head back and squeeze him tightly. You move along with him, riding his proud length.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Ruhn himself releases a deep growl, taking you harder, rougher, his thrusts deep, making you feel every glorious inch of him.

You come with a scream, hand twisted in his hair, the starborn prince’s mouth on your boob, suckling, his tongue flicking over the taut bud. He follows quickly after you, hips moving against yours with sloppy thrusts when his hot release spurts of your walls.

“We forgot protection.”

You release a loud breath, chest heaving with deep inhales, eyes squeezed shut. Sweat grazes your skin and you pant loudly, ringing for air so you can answer him. “I’m on…the pill.”

A relieved groan leaves Ruhn at that and he kisses your brow, slowly helping you climb down, softly placing your shaky legs on the ground. “Can stand alone?”

His seed is running down the insides of your thighs when you glance downwards, knees wobbly. You hold onto him and give your head a little shake. “No, need you.” 

Leaning forward you kiss his chest before leaning your chin against his chest and smiling up at him. 

“I will break up with Pollux tonight. Will you offer me a place to stay, a bed to sleep?” “Nothing I would rather want.” Happiness makes a small tear appear in the corner of the prince's left eye. He kisses your nose, your forehead, your mouth, pulling you to him by your shoulders.

“My home is always open for you and I will always welcome you. I will wait outside when you break up with him, I cannot not,” —Ruhn kisses your pouted lips— “let you go alone. And yes, I know you are a grown girl amd very strong, but I cannot risk anything. I will be there, all the time.”

You kiss his toned chest again, smiling. “I know that Ruhn. I really do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags: @azrielsbabyg @brekkershadowsinger @euphoricpixiee

tags: @azrielsbabyg @brekkershadowsinger @euphoricpixiee

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Ok here’s a request (u don’t have to do it if u don’t have time).

Relationship: Jesse/Becky/reader(or original character)

The reader has been keeping a secret from their partners Jesse and Becky, they had an abusive parent. They only find out bc of a fight or something when the reader experiences some ptsd/anxiety symptoms. This results in fluffy hurt comfort.

(I totally understand if this is to much to write bc of the subject matter, so if u can’t because of personal reasons I get it.)

Thanks!

For The Better

Fandom: Full House

Pairing:  Jesse Katsopolis x Becky Donaldson x Female Reader

Characters: Jesse Katsopolis, Rebecca Donaldson, Female Reader, Nicky Katsopolis, Alex Katsopolis

Word Count: 2319 // Rating: Mature

Summary: Jesse does something he regrets

Tags/ Warnings: Child abuse, Hitting, Spanking, Trauma, Childhood Trauma, Arguing, Hurt, Comfort, Angst, Bad Behaviour, Naughty Children, PTSD, Anxiety, Crying, Guilt, Request, Requested Fic, Polyamory, Throuple, Co-Parenting

Notes: I am working slowly through all my requests. I'm not into many of them atm because im focused on my Elvis stuff [Jesse would be 100% on board with this i feel]

Hope this is okay.

‘Nicky, Alex stop!’ Jesse said as his sons darted around him. He was trying to work, to lay down new material, but he couldn't as his two rambunctious boys were determined to get under his feet. It had been like this all morning. Y/N had taken the girls to school whilst Becky was at work leaving him with no choice but to keep the boys in the basement with him as they worked on their new tracks. 

‘Jess man,’ Steve sighed from behind his drumkit. The twins had darted away from their father and were now interested in hammering on the cymbals and giggling at the noise they made. 

‘Boys!’ Jesse said lurching forward to collar them both and pull them away. He took his guitar off with his free hand and then bent down in front of them trying not to crack as they looked at him with those adoring eyes, ‘you need to behave now. I mean it. I don't want to have to punish you okay?’

‘Okay daddy,’ they said in unison. Jesse nodded and led them back to their small desk which was set up with a painting station in an attempt to keep them quiet, something that had not happened thus far. They sat down and started engaging which made Jesse heave a sigh of relief before he turned back to the guys and gestured for them to start playing again. As he took to the mic once more he finally started to relax.’

‘Well her love doesn't come along until midnight,

And her passion rages on until the daylight-’

‘Jess?’ came a call from the stairs interrupting his singing. The band groaned and he groaned along with them just as Y/N appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She smiled at him and said, ‘hey, sorry to interrupt I thought I’d come and take the boys off your hands.’

‘Well thanks,’ Jesse said as she sidled up to him, her hands resting on his chest, ‘didn't you see the on-air sign though?’

‘I must've missed it,’ she said, ‘sorry baby.’

‘It’s fine,’ Jesse said tightly making Y/N’s brow furrow.

‘Is this a problem? I mean it was a genuine mistake,’ Y/N said feeling uncomfortable. He was mad. She could tell.

‘You know better though,’ he said, ‘I mean you had to know I was recording down here.’

‘I did but I didn't think it was a big deal, Jess. I’m sorry okay,’ she said.

‘It's just between you and the boys we haven't gotten anything done,’ Jesse sighed exasperatedly. 

‘Well, that's what it's like when you have kids,’ she said.

‘You don't think I know that?’ Jesse said, ‘I mean, wait where are they?’ 

Jesse and Y/N’s heads whipped around looking for the tykes who were no longer at their assigned station. As he turned around he spotted two pairs of shoes sticking out from under his mixing table and headed towards it. Behind his desk were Nicky and Alex, tape in hand, unspooling masses and masses of black onto the floor around them. 

‘What the hell?!’ Jesse said. It was their current tape. The only thing they had managed to record the entire morning was now lost and unspooled all around his troublemakers. 

‘Look daddy,’ Nicky said offering up his now useless tape. 

‘What did you do!? I told you to behave!’

‘Jess it's okay we can sort it,’ Y/N said from behind. 

‘Can we?!’ he asked, ‘they don't listen Y/N! They run around and they make noise. They break things and terrorise anyone in the room. We can’t fix it! They don't listen to anything.’ 

‘So what do you suppose we do?’ she asked. 

‘I know,’ Jesse said and before waiting for her to reply he yanked Nicky and Alex out from the desk and stood them in front of him, ‘now I told you you had to behave and you didn't listen to me. So I’m sorry but I have to do this okay?’ 

And before Y/N could speak he spun them both around and placed two harsh spanks across each of their behinds. The twins didn't speak as he whipped them around, looking at him wide-eyed, ‘now I’m sorry it came to that but you boys understand right? You need to listen.’

‘Okay daddy,’ they said in a distinctly less jovial tone than before. 

‘Jess,’ Y/N said in barely more than a whisper. She couldn't believe what she had just whispered. All of a sudden memories cascaded in her brain like fireworks bringing with them pain and anguish. She couldn't think. Her body was in overdrive, there was ringing in her ears and sweat pumping off of her as she looked at the twins' hurt faces. Jesse looked up at her, clocking her blank face and offering one of worry from him but she couldn't say anything. Before he could question her she grabbed the twins and darted upstairs. 

She could hear him calling her but she couldn't stop. She needed to get out of there. She needed to protect them. She bolted upstairs, ignoring the tears that were now running down her face or the distressed cries from the boys as they asked her what was the matter. Once in the attic, she got them in their room, pushing their changing table up against the door. 

She collapsed against the opposite wall, trying to push out the echoes of shouting and the feel of red welts on her skin that weren't even there. 

‘What's the matter, mommy?’ Nicky asked coming to sit in her crossed lap.

‘Nothing baby,’ she sniffled pulling him in close and then Alex who was determined not to be left out in too, ‘it's fine. We’re safe.’ 

‘Y/N?’ she heard Jesse say, as he called her name again his voice got closer until she heard the rattle of the door handle from across the room. Her heart was thudding in her chest. It was a sound she had heard a million times before. Someone determined to get inside, to get to her when she didn't want them to. She couldn't let him in. She needed to protect her boys.

‘Y/N why is the door locked?’ he asked, ‘baby-’

‘Go away,’ she said and though it was faint he heard it.

‘Y/N what's going on?’

‘Go away Jess,’ she sniffled.

‘Y/N-’

‘Go away!’ 

She heard movement outside the door as Jesse rested against it. He was confused. He didn't know what had happened. In the span of two minutes, he had gone from a loving father to a man who hits his children. He knew he’d messed up. Spanking was never something he thought he would ever do but he had lost sight of himself. Everything had been so full on. The noise, the running around, the interruptions and finally the tape. He had lost it. And he instantly regretted it, even more so when he looked up and found Y/N’s horrified face watching him before she bolted from the room kids in two. Now she wasnt coming out. Was she scared of him? 

Pain rippled through him at the thought. He needed to see her. He needed her to come out so he could apologise. So he could beg for her forgiveness and tell the boys how much he was sorry. 

But he couldn't force his way in. He needed help. He needed Becky. 

✵✵✵

‘Jess just tell me what’s going on,’ Becky said as they climbed the stairs to the attic.

‘You'll find out soon enough,’ Jesse said as they entered their living room. Jesse gestured to the twins' room and then went to sit on their bed waiting with bated breath that this would work. Becky watched him confused before she headed to the door and tried to open it frowning when it wouldn't budge. 

‘Y/N?’ she asked gently. 

‘Beck?’ she heard a sniffle come from the other side of the door.

‘It’s me,’ Becky said, ‘can I come in?’ 

‘I can't open the door Beck,’ she said, ‘I can't-’

‘Why not?’ Becky asked.

‘I’m scared,’ she said, ‘and I keep telling myself Im overreacting but I can't get up. It's like I'm glued to the floor.’

‘Jesus, what happened?’ Becky said incredulously looking at Jesse for answers but couldn't bring himself to say anything and instead hung his head in shame. 

‘Mommy?’ Nicky said excitedly.

‘It's me, baby,’ Becky said, ‘Y/N you need to come out.’

Beck-’

‘Think of the boys,’ she said, ‘I mean you can't keep them in there forever-’

‘They're safe in here,’ Y/N reasoned.

‘And they're safe out here too,’ Becky reasoned, ‘why wouldn't they be?’

‘Jesse hit them,’ Y/N said making Becky’s eyes go wild.

‘What?’ she said, ‘is this true?’ 

‘Beck I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I didn’t mean to.’

Becky watched him for a moment, hurt written all over her face before she retained her composure and she looked back at the door. 

‘Y/N, sweetheart, I know what he did was wrong but you have to come out. We have to talk about this. You can't keep the boys locked up forever honey. Please? Come out?’ she said. Y/N didn't reply but there was distinct movement behind the door and the next time Becky tried the handle it clicked open without issue. The boys flocked to her as she opened it, clinging onto a leg each as thas stroked their hair and then asked them to go and play. They ran into the living room resuming the leftover jigsaw that they had insisted on getting out at three am that morning. 

Becky walked into their room ad slid down beside Y/N on the floor as Jesse leaned against the wall watching them shamefully. 

‘Can someone tell me what happened?’ Becky asked, moving a strand of hair off of Y/N’s face as she sniffled. 

‘Jesse spanked the boys,’ Y/N said. 

‘Jess?’ Becky asked looking at her husband with the hope that it wasnt true.

‘I’m sorry okay? I don't know what came over me. They were getting into all sorts, they wouldn't sit still, we got no work done and then they ruined the tape we’d been working on all morning and I don't know. I just lost it,’ he said. 

‘So you hit them?’ Becky asked with disbelief.

‘I’m not proud of it Beck,’ he said, ‘and I’ll never do it again I swear.’

‘That's what he said,’ Y/N said with a scoff that made both pairs of eyes fall on her.

‘Who?’ Becky asked confused. 

‘My dad,’ she said shakily, ‘every time he used to hit me. Every time he’d march into my room finding the littlest thing to lose it at me over. He'd always say that that was the last time. That he never do it again.’

‘I never knew that about your dad,’ Bekcy said. 

‘I never talk about it,’ Y/N admitted, ‘I never needed to. I mean I thought I’d gotten rid of that shit but seeing Jess, I mean the boys’ faces just brought it all back.

‘Y/N you have to believe me when I say I couldn't feel worse right now. I know it was wrong. And believe me, I never want to feel this way again. I never want to upset you or the boys like this again.’

‘How can I trust that?’ she sniffled, ‘I mean I never thought you would-’

‘I mean it,’ Jesse said, ‘you two and the boys are my everything. You have to believe me.’

He came to kneel in front of them then. His hands were on theirs and he looked at them pleadingly. She looked at him for a second, her heart aching at the thought of his actions. 

‘Jess is right,’ Becky said, ‘I mean I don't condone what he did in any way shape or form but it was a momentary lapse. I believe that don't you?’ 

‘And if he gets angry again? If the twins do something like today again?’ Y/N asked. 

‘Like I said. Nothing they could ever do would make me want to feel this feeling again. It's the worst feeling in the world,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ Becky said, ‘and I’m sure Jess doesn't expect forgiveness right away right aby?’

‘Whatever it takes for you and the boys to forgive me I’ll do,’ Jesse nodded. Y/N seemed to deliberate on that point for a moment before she nodded gently. 

‘And maybe we can talk about it a bit more?’ Becky said, ‘I mean we all have our own ideas about parenting and I know we discuss stuff but it's usually as it happening to us. Maybe it would be good if we talked a little more. That way when situations come up we’ll know how the others feel about it.’

‘Yeah, I mean I had no idea about your dad,’ Jesse said, moving to sit beside her. 

‘I’ve not felt those feelings in a long time,’ she admitted looking up at him, her eyes red-rimmed from crying which broke his heart all over again. 

‘I’m sorry it was me who made you feel that way,’ he said. 

‘Well I suppose it's better you’re trying to make up for it,’ she said with a weak smile, ‘he never even acknowledged it happened. A quick mumbled apology and then he’d be right back to where we started.’ 

‘Well then at least we’re making changes right?’ Becky said. 

‘For the better,’ Y/N said, leaning in so Jesse could wrap an arm around them both. 

‘For the better,’ he agreed. 

He didn't feel entirely better about himself and he was sure Y/N didn't either but they were right. What had happened in the past didn't matter as long as they tackled the here and now. And more importantly together.

[nhasablogg]

Be still

Fandom: Red White and Royal Blue

Characters: Alex/Henry

Anonymous said: Maybe one where Alex and Henry make out during their friends with benefits phase and one of them strokes their hand over a sensitive area.

Warnings: Non-graphic foreplay of some sort. Also me not being able to read because I changed the hand part of the prompt to mouth lmao

Words: 830 ish

Henry wasn’t used to there being a bed involved. He’d started associating cupping Alex’s face with a broom sticking into his shoulder blade, Alex kissing down his chest with a hand pressed tightly over his mouth. He almost felt as if he wasn’t sure what to do lying down, although there wasn’t much time to think anyway. Alex was shirtless beneath him and was trying very hard to get his pants off too, although it seemed difficult if his frustrated grunting was anything to go by.

“Need help?” he asked, laughing when he shot him a glare. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Henry hovered over his thighs, fingertips hooking onto the waistband of Alex’s jeans. “Stop squirming.”

“Stop taking so long.”

“Why, do you have somewhere to be?” It was mostly a joke. Henry knew they only had barely half an hour.

Alex pointed at Henry’s belly, then slowly lowered his finger. “I have somewhere to be, all right.”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of him and he started pulling the pants down. “Aren’t you crude.”

“Just being honest.” Alex was smiling. Henry adored his smile.

He pulled the jeans down past Alex’s hips, pausing just before he could slide them entirely off. “Hmm, I think you need to learn how to slow down a bit. Hey hey, no whining,” he added when Alex did just that. “I’ll make it feel good.”

Alex’s cheeks were now tinted a lovely shade of pink. Henry found himself grinning as he lowered his head, blinking up at him through his eyelashes with his mouth ghosting over the skin of Alex’s hip bone.

“Is this okay?” he asked, barely touching skin and yet Alex was moaning anyway.

“Yes. God, yes.”

Henry kissed the bone. “Told you.” He enjoyed the sounds Alex was making and kissed it again, and again. “Now be good and keep still for me, okay?” He trailed his lips over his lower belly as he moved to the other bone, intending on giving it the same treatment, but Alex had decided to do the opposite of what he’d asked and was squirming like crazy. The only thing more fun than making Alex squirm with pleasure was making him squirm with impatience.

Henry glanced up, a playful reprimand at the tip of his tongue. “Now what did I just say?”

But instead of huffing or rolling his eyes Alex’s blush seemed to deepen, which was interesting since he didn’t tend to blush much to begin with. From what Henry had seen anyway. He suddenly felt uncertain, although it made no sense. But maybe he’d crossed a line, had acted too impulsively, not given Alex a chance to protest. But what was there to blush about, if Henry had toyed with his trust?

He sat up, heart suddenly hammering. “What is it?”

“N-nothing.”

“Alex.”

Alex covered his face with his hands, groaning so suddenly and loudly that Henry jumped. “It’s stupid, don’t worry about it.”

“Alex.”

“Seriously, please just go back to doing what you were doing, only-”

“Only?”

Alex dropped his hands with a sigh. “Make it tickle less.”

“Oh my god.” Henry sunk down again, pressing his face to Alex’s belly. “You scared the everloving shit out of me. I thought I had offended you! And all this time you were just ticklish. Which I will take advantage of, by the way, once I’ve recovered from this heart attack.”

“Uh, you will do no such thing.” Alex poked his head. “I’m a kicker, better be careful.”

“You can’t kick me if I’ve got you pinned.” Henry looked up. “But since I promised I will make you feel good, who am I to go back on my promises? Be still.”

He caught Alex’s eyes widening before he went back down, lips tracing skin in a much more determined way now. Softly, slowly, making sure to kiss every inch of skin between his hip bones. Alex started squirming immediately, his breath becoming heavier, before he was finally laughing. Henry had never heard this laugh before. It was choppy, panicked, nearly a giggle. He couldn’t get enough of it.

“You’re not still,” he mumbled, looking up to grin at him. Alex had covered his face again, although he seemed to be alternating between that and gripping at his hair, the pillow, the headboard. Henry had never been so grateful for a bed.

“I can’t help it,” Alex said, peeking out at him. “You’re so fucking mean.”

“I barely hear you protesting though.” He decided to be bold and dragged a finger lightly over his lower belly, making Alex jump. “And you’re not stopping me.”

He huffed, reaching out to grab Henry’s wrist. He let him. “Kiss me.”

“What, are you done giggling?”

“Do I have to remind you of how little time we have?”

Henry sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’ll remember this.”

“Of course you will,” Alex muttered before pulling him closer. Had Henry had a response he forgot it immediately.