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thefuseoftemptation · 2 years

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IT’S YOUR TURN AGAIN ||

PT. 1 “IT’S YOUR TURN” HERE PT.3 “IT’S BACK TO YOUR TURN” HERE

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM!READER

SUMMARY: With your turn now over, Harrington is back on duty though when a certain club leader keeps seeking you out, well guess what happens then? Guess it’s your turn again to look after them—but what you weren’t expecting was to get a date in return.

A/N: It was heavily requested so here you go. I say that as if I wasn’t already preparing the a second part.

WARNING(S): cussing, fuckin pinning (again)

. . .

“Hold up. You’re telling me you spent your Tuesday night at school with children? Playing a make believe game?” Steve asked with an incredulous look

“Why do you say it as if you didn’t fuckin ask me to go? You told me it was my turn so I went and then I got pulled into subbing.”

You were perched on the counter of his work, having stopped by as you had nothing else to do—what’s new. That and he had also begged you to come over, seeing as it was empty and he was bored since Robin wasn’t arriving till later.

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to get it on with the freak of the town!” Your friend exclaimed as he stacked the racks with films

“The hell are you talking ‘bout? Eddie and I were just catching up, so what? Is it bad to get along with somebody that isn’t a child. And plus, he isn’t what he’s made out to be so stop saying that, Jesus! Oh, and by the way, it’s your turn. Again.”

“First, Munson is like an overgrown child and second—HOW IS IT MY TURN?!”

“You said for that one time, so I helped you out. Now the duty is back on you.”

“Nope. Not happening, and you didn’t answer my question much less let me finish because that’s not what Henderson told me.”

The little shit.

“Oh, do tell. I’d like to hear his version of it.”

If there’s one thing Dustin knew how to do it was be butt into everything. Constantly always putting his nose in where it doesn’t belong. And that tone he has while at it? Uh why don’t you check that over there, buddy. Because you were not liking it.

“He said that you and Eddie couldn’t stop looking into each other’s eyes. Even Wheeler noticed. Said that all night you were by the others side.”

You were going to wring their necks in your hands. Forget the future school years boys, because they won’t make it past freshmen.

“That is not even close. I was in a new setting, playing a game that I had no clue or intentions of actually getting into but there I was. What? You expected to just sit there like a fuckin dumbass and not help them out? So, Eddie guided me and was decent, big deal. There’s nothing to it.”

Oh, but there was. At least from what you could tell and feel. You were curious to see if the metal head felt it too or if it was just you?

“Alright, chill. Just don’t get too involved with him. He’s a freak. And a drug dealer may I add!”

“Hm, yes which we happen to be letting our children be with majority of the time during and after school.”

It goes quiet again like previously. Proving yet another point. Seeing Harrington think over what was just released. Though you weren’t threatened by it, Eddie was harmless. He could never do any of the things people put out and assume. So what, he dealed drugs—it’s cash in the pocket, right? As long as he ain’t selling it to those little fuckers and getting them into things they shouldn’t be, then all is well.

Steve tries to figure out what to say, probably conjuring up some lame excuse in his head as to why we’re letting it happen but his hands drop in defeat and he forgets ‘bout it.

“You know what? That’s not the point. The thing is, you can’t see him anymore. I forbid it.”

“You can’t tell me what to do. Not only that but how does that make sense that the boys can be near Eddie but I can’t?”

Again, point made. Steve really is bad at not thinking things through fully.

“Alright, you need to leave missy. Your disrupting my work schedule and distracting me—so go.”

“Don’t forget the children! They need picking up!” You say before leaving, chuckling when you hear Steve yell in refusal. The door closes and you condescendingly wave through the glass, singing a ‘bye, Harrington’ as you turn.

“Constantly the goddamn babysitter.” Steve muttered

. . .

While you had been there with Steve, talking, on the other side of town at Hawkins High, the boys were at school looking for Eddie.

The cafeteria was crowded with students, trying to get in line and find their usual seats at their tables. Over at the Hellfire table, the club leader was at the head of it, giving some little speech on something before hands were slammed down in front of him. Looking up, he sees Henderson hovering over—

“What the hell was that?!” The freshman exclaims, the members of the table stopping their conversation to listen.

“Not sure I understand, little sheep. What was what?”

“You know exactly what I’m referring to.”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked.” Though Eddie wasn’t dumb, he did know what Henderson was referring to but refused to tell. Not really feeling like getting into it and being reminded of his mistake. Only showed the lack of courage he had to ask out a girl—who by the way, was way out of his league but Eddie could only envision.

“You and Y/N. You were so close and then you just backed out! It was hard to watch honestly especially since we were all expecting it.”

We were expecting it? Who was all? Before Eddie could respond, a voice interrupted

“Wait, you were going to go for it with Y/N?” Gareth questioned

“Well, I was but I chickened out as usual.” Eddie said gesturing with his hand

“Haven’t you been crushing on her since like grade school?” Jeff tuned in

“Yes, but that isn’t the point, alright? Because there is no way that, Y/N Y/L/N, would go for a guy like me. I mean, c’mon guys—I’m the freak of the town.”

“Well, how would you know if you haven’t tried.” Mike stated

“Watch it, Wheeler.” Eddie says pointing at the taller of the boys

“Just ask, Eddie. If you don’t ask then I’ll do it for you.” Henderson said and by the tone of his voice, Eddie didn’t doubt it. He knew the way he could be.

It was in contemplation. He wasn’t sure but like it was stated, never know if you don’t try.

“So, what do you say?…”

. . .

Steve was parked out front of Hawkins High, head leaned back of the seat as his hands gripped the wheel tightly. He was cursing you out under his breath and thinking of the many ways to get back at you.

Looking to his watch, he sees the bell should have rung. Maybe it did but he couldn’t hear it over his sulking. As if his thoughts were heard, the bell rung—signaling schools out.

It had been well over half an hour and there was still no sign of those little fuckers. Where were they? Sighing, Steve unbuckles and gets out, leaning on the door as he scans the lot. Finally, he sees the boys emerge from the school but they’re not by themselves—Munson was with them.

As if sensing staring, Eddie and the boys look over seeing Steve waving as if to tell ‘Really? Let’s go.’ Dustin holds up his index finger telling Steve to wait, groaning, he gets back in the car.

“Where the hell is Y/N? I thought you said she was coming to pick you up?” Eddie pressed

“Well that’s what we thought. It was her turn so excuse us for not getting the change! We’re just the messengers!”

“Why don’t we ask Steve?” Mike chimed

“No. Not Harrington.”

“Why not?”

“B-Because I said so!”

Steve watched as the group was talking, huddled in a circle as they spoke. Their hands gesturing and moving too much, making it hard to understand what was going on. Children. Too in thoughts he failed to see the figures approach, flinching at the sudden sound of Dustin and Mike getting in.

“Hey Steve, no Y/N today?” Mike asked

“No, she left the duty on me. My turn again, so guess your stuck with me for who knows how long until she volunteers or I have somewhere else to be, which I doubt it.”

“So, no Y/N then?” Dustin questioned again

Why the hell were they so set on that?

Before he went to respond, repeating himself, there was a tap on the glass of the car window. Looking over to the side, Steve sees the unexpected. Not really usual in the pick ups. There, Eddie Munson stood, waving.

Rolling it down, Eddie leans in as Steve leans back simultaneously.

“Can I help you, Munson?”

“Hey, Harrington. Pleasure to see you again.”

“Uh huh, right. Like I said, can I help you with something?”

Eddie wasn’t so sure if he should ask. Not really liking the thought of going to Steve Harrington of all people which he happens to be not so set on. But he was the only person to really know you and where you were, so sticking to what was discussed, he spoke.

“Just um, looking for Y/N, y’know?”

Steve creased his brows, not sure where this was going, “why’s that?”

Before Eddie could answer Mike buts in quicker “Because! He was curious to see if she’d like join in on the next club meeting!”

“Yeah! Y/N did so well the first time and we just figured she’ll like to come. Plus, we miss her so much, you know? Never seeing her now that your here.” Dustin says gesturing his hand at Steve as if putting the fault on him for constantly being there. Not like Steve could help it! Those boys were the ones asking and dragging him into the unknown of things he had no clue of!

“Oh well—HEY! If I could leave I would but here I am. For Y/L/N, she doesn’t know the half of it. She’s never here! And to get to your questions, like I said she dumped you guys on me since apparently it’s my turn, again. So I don’t know when she’ll be coming to pick you children up.”

“Jesus Christ, mother…” Mike muttered

“Look, we were just curious, alright?” Dustin said, rubbing Steve’s shoulder

“You guys sound like an old couple.” Eddie interrupted

“Not old. We’re just co-parenting I guess you could say.” Steve pointed

“Well, um, I just thought I’d ask. Y’know put it out there that Y/L/N is more than welcome to join.” Eddie said clapping his hands together

Steve eyed him suspiciously, not really buying what he was saying. Don’t think he didn’t notice the emphasis on certain parts of the sentence.

“You sure that’s all? Where’s Sinclair? ” Steve queried

Eddie looked caught off by the question, thinking Steve knew what he was implying. Probably sensing the feelings Eddie felt towards his friend.

“Yes, that’s all and Sinclair left earlier. Something ‘bout early practice”

“So, could Y/N pick us up next time? Like could you maybe leave and get her to come?” Dustin asked, Steve looked over at him confused

“Alright, what’s going on? Like seriously?”

The guys shared a look, contemplating if they should tell. With a small nod from the club leader, Dustin went to speak, not leaving out a detail as they told Steve their intentions.

. . .

It took much convincing to get Steve to give Y/N a turn. Which is funny since just the other day he was begging for her to do it. It’s not that he didn’t feel like taking turns, it’s the why of it. Now knowing what will be happening when she goes over to pick up the children. Honestly though, he was just on the defense. That was his friend they were talking ‘bout. He was just looking out for her. Very very closely. Especially since Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was involved.

So, there he was on the phone yet again calling to ask you to cover for him. Telling you that it was your turn. That’s how it worked or at least was supposed to.

“What is it now, Harrington?” You spoke answering

“Why does it have to be something? Can’t I just call a friend?”

It was quiet, not even Steve bought that. Sighing, he gives.

“Alright, you got me. I got something to go to—and no, it’s not a date.”

“What could you possibly have to do that doesn’t involve dates or watching the children?”

“Um, I don’t know, let’s see maybe WORK!” He retorts not liking how you almost made a point

“Uh huh, don’t you get off soon?” You query

“Y/N, will you just do it, please?” He begs not bothering to have to explain further

You sigh through the speaker “Alright, but you owe me though.” You tease as you repeat the exact words from the other day.

“Don’t forget and don’t be late! They have the whole club thing again so be there by then.” Steve pointed

“Yes, Dear.” You just know Harrington is rolling his eyes, thanking you before he hung up.

Well, guess it’s your turn again.

. . .

You were once again, going through the front doors of the school. It now basically clear of the student body as you had gotten there a little later than last time. Heading down the hall and to the theater room where the game was hosted. You were just going to head in but then thought not, when you noticed the numbers on your watch. They were probably well into it, and you didn’t feel like interrupting even if you heard countless times from the guys that you were welcomed.

So, strolling up to the wall cross the door, you take a seat on the floor and wait it out. Ugh, you should’ve brought something with you to keep you occupied. You perched your head on the pillar to the side of you, closing your eyes briefly. It wasn’t until you heard voices and cheers that you woke up suddenly. Huh, never expected to go unconscious...

They must have been finished or close to it so you stood to your feet and waited to see the common faces. Sure enough, minutes went by and the club members filed out, waving at you as they went. You offer them a smile in return and head in.

You could hear Eddie’s voice, turning the corner you see him on the table, casting theatrics as he goes. Mike and Lucas, seated in the chairs watching as Dustin participated in the role. Eddie then jumps off, tumbling to the ground as if he had been shot in the chest. The boys chuckle, getting in role as they surround their dungeon master. It’s apparent they haven’t seen you whether due you being tucked to the side of the dimmed room, or because they were so into messing with each other—either way it was a sight to see.

“Hey guys.” You greet

They all stop and straighten themselves up. Not pleased and a little embarrassed in honesty, that you had seen them.

“H-Hey Y/N,” Lucas says, trying to seem as if he wasn’t totally nerding out. It’s not like you haven’t seen them do this before. I mean, you used to watch them years back when they were still the little butts they are now, only thing is they’re just taller and have bigger mouths—meaning they like to cuss whenever they can and feel like. That and the voices, they got deeper. Puberty.

“Hello, Sinclair. Long time no see. How’ve you been?” You question going up to pull the boy into a hug

“I’ve been well, you know just busier with practice and all that.”

“Nice to hear, how’s Max? Haven’t seen her lately.”

“She’s doing alright. Still struggling a little, you know?”

You nod in understanding knowing what he was referring to. “Well, tell her I say hi when you see her.”

Eddie watched the interaction, you were so gentle with them. Sure, there were times when you went off on the group because of their choice of words or how they seemed to get into trouble every so often but it never meant you didn’t care for them. They were your children after all. And of course Harrington’s.

“Hey, Munson.”

“Y/L/N.” Eddie said with a bow “We were expecting you sooner. Got to say, it wounded me when you didn’t show.” Clutching his chest, where his heart rested

You chuckled, “I got here an hour or so ago. Just waited out in the hall. I didn’t feel like interrupting the game or you guys even if you said I was welcomed.”

Eddie felt himself weak at the thought, seeing how you did come but were too generous to bother them. Not like you could ever be when it came to him.

“Well, I can concur that you are welcomed and by all means, can interrupt whenever you feel like.”

You went to respond but halted when you felt eyes on you. Turning over, you see the boys staring, Dustin more in disgust.

“Are you two done?” He queried

“Yeah, could we go? I’m fucking starving!” Mike piped in as Lucas nodded his head in agreement

“Hey! Watch the language, please.”

“You watch your language, ma’am.” Dustin said crossing his arms

You cocked your head and raise a brow “Excuse me?! I am not a ma’am, Jesus Christ. You make me sound old when you say that. And for the record, I'm older than you so I can, as for you three—no. Pick some other words to coin.”

They rolled their eyes and grabbed their things, heading out the door with you and Eddie in tow. He was amused at how you were with them.

You guys exited the school, tossing the keys to Dustin and nodding your head forward, “turn it on will you.”

They took off to the car pushing each other to get shotgun of the passenger seat.

Eddie cleared his throat, fumbling with the rings on his fingers as he felt his nerves grow. Preparing himself for what he was going to ask you and has been meaning to ask you for not just days or weeks but years. He had been pining for you for years.

Here it goes.

“So uh, where you guys heading?” Really, Munson?

“Probably to get them something to eat and then off to drop them at their houses.”

He rocked back in forth in understanding, grabbing some strands of his untamed curls as he did.

You looked at him expectantly, seeing as he was trying to tell you something, you just didn’t know what.

“Well um, I’ll let you go then. Don’t want to keep the little sheep waiting.” Eddie could yell at himself for backing out yet again.

“Alright. I’ll see you later then, Munson.” You say as you turn to leave.

Eddie watched as you retreated to the car, seeing the boys gesturing for him to go for it.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled before running up to you

“Hey, Y/L/N!”

You looked to the club leader just as your hand reached for the handle—

“Do you—I mean would you like to go out sometime? Like on a date?” Eddie asked

You stood there unresponsive, trying to process what was spoken. But it wasn’t from you trying to be, it was just very unexpected. Like you haven’t been waiting for it to come out. Eddie nerves were consuming him the more you just stood there not saying a word, he could feel sweat on his neck and hands, and his face was getting hot, probably flushed by now, but just when he was ‘bout to doubt it all, you grinned.

“Yes.”

Eddie let out a sigh of relief. “You had me worry there for a second, Y/L/N.”

You chuckle and offer an apology

“How’s Friday? I’ll pick you up at 7?” Eddie suggests

“It’s a date. I’ll see you then, Munson.”

Eddie grinned widely as he backed up from the car, watching you reverse and drive out of the parking lot.

Jumping up as he strolled to his van, a pep in each step he took.

A/N: feedback and reblogs are appreciated.

TAG(S): @buckys2thicc @babeyglo

PT.3 HERE

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn

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chaoticcornchip · 8 months

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Yandere Error404 x reader!

Requested by April_Gianttale on wattpad!

A/n - just letting you know reader, the pov of the writing is kinda random, some chapters will be in 1st pov, others in 2nd or 3rd, sometimes a mix. Just letting you know. And more times than not you are referred to as they/them, might change later as my brain be like no this is weird to read. But yeah.

Image by Mokutree3 on tumblr

Error404 belongs to @vibeless15

TW- possessive behavior, kidnapping, swearing, murder, mentioned guilt trip/manipulation

3rd POV

It was a warm, pleasant summer afternoon, a h/l h/c middle aged person hummed a small tune. A smile on their face as they took care of a few more files to finish up the day at work. Y/n's mind began to drift aimlessly as the excitement to head over to their friends place and watch the newest episodes of f/s grew more and more potent.

Finishing the last file up, y/n eagerly placed it on the stack of papers that, like this one, were all completed and ready to be moved over to get sent and checked y employees in one of the other buildings. Packing their things they stood up and turned and walked into someone, causing them to drop the papers they were carrying all over the floor.

Y/n's face flushed in embarrassment "oh shit. Sorry I wasn't paying attention, lost in my own thoughts heheh, here let me pick these up," they laughed nervously as they gathered the fallen paper.

Standing up they smoothed the paper out before handing it back, "it's alright, accidents happen," responded a male voice.

That got y/ns immediate attention, miraculously out of all those who are still in the office, they just had to run into the one person they have a crush on here.

"Say your name was..... Y/n right?" He asked, taking his work back.

A small tinge of red crept onto y/ns face, 'wh- omg...he knows my name! Hold on keep calm y/n it isn't too big of a deal- OH WHO AM I KIDDING I AM NOT GOING TO STAY CALM FROM THIS'

(a/n- sorry if this is cringy or whatever I am out of ideas, also refer to your crush however you want I just used he/him to make this easier to write and read)

"Y-yep, heh that's me alright."

C/n gave a small smile, "well it's nice to see you, last time we met was at your... application meeting, I believe."

Y/n gave a nod "yep! It's nice to see you as well........." they shifted there eyes side to side and rugged on the collar of their f/c shirt, "say is it hot in here or is it just me?" Y/n stammered out, sweat building up slowly.

C/n stood there a little puzzled, "uh it feels fine to me, say you look a bit red- do you need anything- here I'll get you some water" he answered himself and walked off before the stunned y/n could speak.

'Greaaaaattttttt- wait- maybe I could snag a hangout or maybe even a da- no, no you just freaking talked to him get to know him first y/n.' They thought for a few seconds, 'oh hey! Maybe 404 could help with this and give me some advice! He is smart he could give me tips, right?'

Shortly after that the h/c male returned with a paper cup filled with water in his hand, "here, hope this helps, if there is anything else you need, let me know." He says handing them the cup. Taking the it y/n took a sip of the cold liquid and already felt their nerves relaxing and thus them calming down.

"Thanks." They murmured.

C/n gave a nod, "welp I will be seeing you later, have a good night" he said walking away, leaving y/n to think.

*time skip brought to you by tiny bred factory🍞 *

*time 6:40pm

Y/n stood at the doorstep of 404's house and rang the doorbell. Waiting a few moments they noticed that the skeleton monster must've planted some flora of various types, seeing there was more green foliage around his home, mixed with some flowers.

'Huh, I thought he said he didn't really care about plants or how his yard looked, as long as it met the neighborhood standards. Guess your rant about plant life got to him y/n heh,' they thought with a slight smirk.

Y/n let out a small huff as he still hasn't answered the door yet 'I swear to fuck, if he doesn't answer I am breaking this door down.' They began to ring the doorbell a few (hundred) more times, breaking the thing in the process.

Finally there was motion and it quickly followed with the door being opened, revealing an exhausted, dead inside 404.

"Why are you so loud, I was taking a nap." He groaned, letting the human in.

"Why? Didn't you know I was coming at 6:40?" They responded.

404 was silent for a moment, yes he did remember but originally he thought y/n was coming a bit later, and thus he believed he could at least get a bit of rest after having to manage Error all damn day. "Yeah, just drifted off I guess" he says as he begins to head to the kitchen, "want anything to drink?"

"Sure, a f/b would be nice" the human responded their gaze drifting around and looking at some of the items their friend has cluttered on shelves and walls.

"y/n could you get the tv ready?" He called out.

Rolling their eyes y/n headed to the living room, "I don't see why you didn't have it turned on and ready already, are you getting lazy without telling me."

"ABSOLUTELY NOT! WHERE DID YOU GET THAT FROM?!" He shouted, which was shortly followed by a bang and a muffled cuss.

Y/n covered their mouth in an attempt to hide their snicker, "oh nowhere just saying it to bother you."

After a bit 404 came back in with a f/b and a beer, he sat down on the couch next to y/n and passed the f/b over to them. After they both got comfortable 404 took the remote and started the show.

*skip cuz does it look like I am going to TRY and write a small show even in the background? No, no it does not.*

After like 40 minutes, the two finally reached the credits of the episode. 404 blinked once or twice before letting out a yawn and stretching his arms, "welp, that was disappointing." He says as he wrapped an arm around y/ns shoulder.

Y/n shrugged him off "yeah, but it was still a good episode." Y/n paused for a moment "Say 404, any chance you have uhm.... Any useful advice for dealing with your crush, like to hang around them and not be awkward?" They asked a bit hesitant.

The skeleton was a little bit stunned, not showing it he simply spoke, "no, not really, why? Who's the lucky person?"

"Just a coworker, who i haven't really gotten to know," y/n responded.

404 let out a small hum, "well I guess this isn't creative at all, but just be yourself ignoring what you humans usually say as "but what if they don't like who I am," if they don't like who you are, then that's their fucking problem. you shouldn't be wasting time trying to be what anyone wants you to be, become who you wanna be for yourself and others. Better live a life with the truth even if you don't like it than living in a life of falsehoods and lies."

Y/n listened to her friends words and thought deeper. They smiled "heh thanks 404 that actually helps a lot I guess," the replied.

404 shrugged "no problem, so what are we going to do now?"

*skip several weeks cuz I am lazy and don't wanna write more boring shat, deal with it*

It's been 3 weeks, y/n without appearing creepy or weird hung out and grew to know c/n, overall 404 was fine with it, no jealousy at all.... At least until the two started to get closer and y/n slowly began to spend more and more time with c/n instead of 404.

The skeleton has mostly been keeping it cool but the worry is thick in his mind, is he going to lose the only good thing he has? To some random human? As these questions and those similar repeated he began to have dreams about y/n leaving him or forgetting about him entirely. And that is where his paranoia led to him whenever y/n was around, he would find some excuse for them to stay.Whether it be about the weather, him needing "help" with something, ect. He even started going low as in guilt tripping.

But on the third week... when y/n finally introduced him to c/n. His jealousy sparked and turned into pure obsession, the obsession of keeping these two away from each other permanently . Time went on he tried intimidating his so-called competition, bribery, blackmail, anything else you name it. Amazing nothing worked it only got c/n to bond closer with 404's friend.

Y/n wasn't exactly oblivious, they notice 404s clinginess and how upset he has been lately, not to mention every fucking excuse he has for the human to stay. It utterly confused them, he was perfectly fine with it awhile ago, so what changed and what is with this new thing?

*done with overview thingy*

Y/n was at a park walking with c/n as the two chatted about random things that caused them both to laugh. Finally the two stopped and sat down on a bench and ate the ice cream they had gotten. There was awkward silence between the two, y/n was confused and a little worried, is something wrong with c/n too?

This deafening silence lasted for an eternity more before c/n spoke, "uhm, so I have been thinking y/n....."

They looked at him, "yes?" They asked worry building up in their head.

C/n was quiet for a moment, "I was wondering.... Would you go out with me?" He asked blushing a bit.

Y/n sat there astonished, "y-yeah of course!" They exclaimed. "When and where to?"

C/n thought "how about tonight at f/r? Would around 8 work?"

Y/n gave a nod and kissed c/n on the cheek, "it's a date."

Time went on the two left the park and went their separate ways, y/n was overflowing with joy and head over to 404s house, owing him a visit after not being there yesterday day.

*le skip*

Y/n knocked on the door, 404 shortly was there, "oh y/n, I didn't think you would be here, weren't you busy with him?" He said letting them in.

Y/n shrugged, "yeah but I felt bad about yesterday and so I wanted to stop by."

404 let out a skeptical 'hm'.

The skeleton couldn't help but notice that the human was a bit.... Cheerful, "what has you so happy?" He asked, growing a bit angry almost expecting it.

Y/n beamed "i got a date with c/n tonight at 8!" They exclaimed happily.

His soul dropped, a wave of terror and rage rushed over him, "that's......great" he forced out, grinding his teeth together, here it was. The moment he lost EVERYTHING the one good fucking thing he had to look for to. No he won't let this happen... y/n is HIS not some PATHETIC, weak human boy who just waltzed into existence.

As y/n headed to leave they got stopped in place by 404 who grabbed them "hey 404 what are you doing?!" They demanded.

The skeleton was silent and just swiftly wrapped his arm around y/n's soft, fleshy neck, tucking the joint of his elbow under the human's chin, his free hand then pushed the back of their head forward, cutting off the humans air. Y/n struggled and tried to get free with no prevail, 404 tightening his hold each time they fought, eventually their struggles weaken and he began to speak, "you wouldn't understand, but I am doing this for us. Everything will be fine y/n, it'll just be you and me." As the human started to lose consciousness they heard 404 hiss out, "and nothing else."

Once the skeleton was certain the human was out he let go and carefully laid y/n on the floor, he calmly blinked and looked at their peaceful form. 'I am doing the right thing, they're MINe and I will make sure they can't leave me E V E R' he thought picking them up and heading to the mainframe.

*8pm

C/n knocked on y/ns door, no response, the male has been there for a few minutes now and he was worried, there wasn't any sign y/n was home, pulling out his phone he dialed their number.

Ring....ring

C/n flinched at hearing the sound behind them, turning around they saw a dark figure, only visible aspect was two glowing blue eyes. "Who the hell" they growled.

The figure didn't respond except lifting up its hand revealing blue tipped fingers.

C/n couldn't even usher a breath before the thing lunged forward, grabbing the humans neck and squeezed tightly until there was a sickening crunch, and the male went limb.

Disgusted 404 tossed the corpse to the side and teleported away. Back into the mainframe where y/n was left, the human was conscious a long time ago, but that's alright. 404 isn't going to push anything, hell no, he's going to wait until the loneliness and emotional pressure of the void gets to them and they come to him. Begging for attention and escape and doing anything he wants.

A/n - and finished! Probably not the best but I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave requests reactions or constructive criticism!

(2431 words)

(minor changes and fixes: 9/13/2023 on quotev)

#Yandere #undertale #undertale au #error 404 #Alphatale #utau #x reader #oneshot #tw death #writing #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #error 404 x reader #undertale x reader #Sans #sans au #undertale multiverse

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luvjordie · 8 months

Text

steve harrington x fem (implied) reader, college au, part 1 <3

summary: you’ve never really been fond of steve harrington. but your best friend is his roommate and theyre hitting it off pretty good, so you just might have to see him every day for the next four years. so maybe making him slightly more tolerable wouldnt hurt..

The books weighed heavy in my arms as i stood outside of the crappy off campus apartment my best friend now lives in. Sure, i havent been inside yet, but knowing Eddie, i was 1000% sure that it was some sort of fucked up. I had knocked a few seconds ago, and behind the door i could hear Eddie tripping over shit in his journey to let me in.

“Hellooo, M’lady.” He smiled brightly, taking the top half of my book load, and letting me into the dorm.

“Stop calling me that, asshole.” I snorted, closing the door behind me with a bump of my hip.

“Nope. Not until you finally decide to visit me for a reason other than making me study. We havent even started classes yet, you freak” He chuckled, making his way into the small kitchen area for a what i thought was a beer. Until he pulled two of like 13 juice boxes out of the small fridge.

“Its that.. Is that a juice box, Edward?” “Okay i can explain. My roommate is totally the party animal type, so all my good stuff stays in my room. Actually I think you might, oh i dont know, i think you might know him.” He shrugged, smirking and handing me my juicebox.

“Doubt it, never left Hawkins in my whole life. Now enough bull, I need to finish making my flashcards before classes start, which one is your room?” I said, looking through the doors to find the messier of the two.

“Y/N, Honey, thats not-“ Eddie tried to help, but I was determined to start the stupid flashcards. Until I found out who his goddamn roommate was.

“Your roommate is Steve Harrington?” I looked up at Eddie, who was now leaning against the doorframe, looking at me smugly.

“His roommate is Steve Harrington. Nice to see you four eyes. Someone grew over the summer, lost the glasses too, I see?” He smirked, placing the box in his arms labeled “hair shit” on his bed carefully.

“Im nineteen years old, dickhead. I dont grow anymore, and yes I lost the glasses. Eddie please show me to your room, I would like to start my flashcards”

“Shes still like this? Come on Y/n/n, loosen up a little I mean you got out of Hawkins. Its time for you to learn that life isnt all about having your nose in a book.” He said, leading you and Eddie into the living room as he spoke.

“Aw ive been upgraded from four eyes. Im flattered. And Harrington, youre only here because your daddy has money, so its not like youve ever needed to have your nose in a book.” Before Steve could shoot back, Eddie started speaking.

“Okay so now might not be the best time to mention this, but we are kinda trying to plan a movie night right now. So if you arent going to help, I do recommend going to get your roommate.” He asked, eyebrows raised in amusement, as him and Steve silently agreed over tape choices.

“How the hell did you drag Robin into this already Harrington?” I asked, throwing myself onto their slightly uncomfortable couch.

“What do you mean?,” He smirked, “Buckleys my best friend. She is also on snack duty, so if you decided not to stay, be a doll and tell her to hurry up, would you?”He said, leaving the area to go back to his room for more tapes. I groaned loudly, as Eddie aggressively took a seat next to me.

“You knew, and still let me come over? I hate you so much right now, Munson.” I said, laying my head on his shoulder, his crazy hair falling over my eye’s slightly.

“I know, but Harrintons not as bad as he used to be. I promise, M’lady” I could hear the amusement in his voice as he said that. The two of us just sat there in silence for a bit, until Steve came back, and assigned me to ‘decorate the shitty couch duty’.

“I have homework you know, Steve.” I said, snatching the stack of blankets from him. I couldnt see at the time, but Eddie had literally just walked out of the door.

“And I have a movie night to finish planning.” He stated plainly. Something about him and his indifference towards college was really frustrating. But I guess it was to be expected. Hes Steve Harrington.

“You know, former four eyes,” you rolled your eyes at the new nickname, “Im not going anywhere. Youre going to have to get used to me.” He said, placing the stack of tapes planned for later on the Tv stand.

“Youd be much more tolerable if you werent such a.. A you. You party until three in the morning, and dont care if someone ralphs on your lawn. You dont study, you charm your way into passing grades. And we still ended up in the same school. Theres no getting used to that.”

“Well you know, coexisting with you isnt making my life all sunshine and rainbows either. You study, and you study and you study. You get amazing grades, without having to wink at 100 year old teachers. Your friends like you for.. you, not your parents money. So id say its gonna take a while for me to get used to you too.” We were standing in a very awkward silence now, neither caring if Eddie was standing behind either one of us, and if he was its not like we’d notice.

“I have an idea.” I said. I can’t believe youre doing this Y/n. “You dont like that im smarter than you, right? What if.. What if I helped you study?” I could tell he was skeptical, and so was I. I didnt know what hell i was getting myself into then.

“Whats in it for me?” He said, bending down in front of the couch to start moving the equally shitty coffee table.

“You get to teach me how to have a good time,” Seeing the look on his face I felt the need to elaborate. Loudly, “NOT THAT WAY. I mean you can, take me out on the town or whatever it is you do. Bowling, drinking, dancing, whatever the hell it is you deem fun.” Now he was smiling and I couldnt tell if it was a smile that should make me embarrassed and run full speed, and probably trip, out of the apartment.

“Okay. But, i get to pick where I take you and when. You can pick what we study I guess. Hey maybe that stick thats been up your ass for the last nineteen years will finally disappear.”

“Haha, very funny Steve. Im being serious though. You teach me to not be a prick, I make you less of an absolute dumbass, and hope it makes you more tolerable.” I absolutely could not believe id even offer to do something like this, but there was no way in hell id spend the next four years hating his guts. Im with Eddie 25/8 and apparently hes tight with Robin. Hating Steve would fuck everything up. Which is why i wasn’t entirely suprised when he said,

“Okay. But only because id pay good money to see you consume alcohal, Y/n/n.” He said, a somewhat serious, and very rare, look on his face.

“Cool. Cool cool cool. So you think we should like.. plan it? Or is not planning things part of the Steve Harrington Slutty Popular Rich Kid experience?” I asked, as began to turn the coffee table around to make a little snack stand. Creative.

“Oh it’s definitely part of the experience. But planning might help, hows after the movie sound?”

“I have to study after the movie, Steve. Im already moving it back because of your spontaneous attack movie night. “

“So after the movie? Perfect”

A/N: posting is literally so inconsistent but i have like a total of 45 minutes of free time every day- but once i get my schedule n stuff down ill def post more😍🤞 so p2 prob coming soon! if u have ideas for this mini series dm me im so uncreative rn💀

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stevie #x reader #college au

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thebattleofstarcourt · 2 years

Text

｡ﾟ•♡୧ percolator

eddie munson x gn!reader

warnings: 16+ smokin weed, mentions / talking about sex (no actual sex)

a/n: i attempted to unlock every bit of stoner knowledge i had from my high school days, but the weed fucked with my memory so don’t mind the weird writing. i am not dumb my brain is just the fried egg from the DARE commercial!!!! also my parents (born:1972) claim that everyone called weed pot back then so im rolling with that. u call it dated i call it historical accuracy.

you knocked on your boyfriend’s front door, giddily bouncing from foot to foot. the plastic bag held in your opposite hand brushed against your thigh as you were waiting for him to answer the door.

seconds later, you were met with the face of your mulleted boyfriend. cheeks flushed and eyes a shade redder than the usual look of acute sleep deprivation. he was probably high.

“eddie!” you exclaimed, waltzing into his uncle’s trailer before he could greet you. “i got a surprise for you, but you’ve seemed to beat me to the punch.”

his brow quirked as he leaned in to give you a peck on your cheek. “surprise for me?” he repeated.

“yep.” you affirmed. “but you’re already high so…”

“you got pot?” he asked. “why? from who? you could’ve called me, baby, i have some saved for you.”

“i didn’t get pot, eds.” you said, pulling out the contraption from the plastic bag. “i got a bong!”

he took the glass structure from you and started examining it “oh shit.” he said, dragging his fingers along the neck. “it’s nice. how much was it?”

“nothin’ i couldn’t afford.” you said, grinning as he eyed the tacky paint job around the chamber. “pretty, right?”

he laughed. “it’s beautiful. thank you, babe.” he kissed your cheek again.

in reality, it was not ‘nice’ nor ‘beautiful’ like you both pretended it was. it was a cheap $20 bong from a shady gas station a couple miles out of town, one that didn’t card as long as you diminished your pride and flirted with the 35-year-old cashier for a few minutes.

nonetheless, he planted another chaste kiss on your lips and walked down the hallway to his bedroom, you following close behind.

“wanna try this baby out?” he asked, grabbing a small tin from his nightstand. you gave him an enthusiastic nod before he started packing the bowl and grabbing his lighter.

while he was preparing the bong, you went over and started sorting through his large stack of cassette tapes, eventually settling on an old album from the doors and putting it in the stereo. it was one of the few bands you could both compromise on at the beginning of your relationship, so it quickly became both of your guilty pleasures.

“you sure you wanna smoke again?” you asked, sitting down on his bed next to him.

“yeah, my high’s wearing off anyways.” he said. “i was trying out some new stuff rick got, but it was shit.” he ellaborated, moving his hands and clinking his rings on the glass. “made me feel like i was tripping. not in a good way, though.”

“you’re not giving me that shit, right?”

“no.” he said. “i’ll probably sell it to the basketball team and watch them freak out during their after parties.”

you let out a loud laugh. “you’re fucked up.”

he met your eyes and smirked while lighting up the bowl, taking a small hit before passing it back to you.

sometime during next the hour you’d washed off your makeup and stripped yourself of your pants, leaving you in an old ISU t-shirt and your underwear, spread across your boyfriend’s bed. similarly, eddie was sporting a nothing but boxers and a KISS shirt that he had stolen from his old neighbor’s clothesline couple years back.

you were both also decently high. not high enough to garner you immobile, but high enough to lower your inhibitions significantly – but that just came out in shared fits of giggles.

“chrissy cunningham? like head-cheerleader-dating-captain-of-the-basketball-team chrissy cunningham?”

“yep.”

“i don’t believe you.” you said. “there is no way that that is possible.”

“‘m not lying.” he said through a laugh. “i was supposed to meet her after school but she bailed last minute.”

you rolled your eyes. “oh, how convenient, ‘she bailed last minute.’” you mocked, earning you a pillow to the face.

“i swear on my fuckin’ life.” he said, putting his hand over his heart.

“that’s just not real.” you said. “she’s like, a go-to-church-every-sunday girl. like the virgin mary level of holy.”

“well, she’s dating jason carver.” he said. “so she’s probably not a virgin.”

“ew.” you pretend to gag. “i don’t wanna think about jason fucking carver getting laid. That’s like the grossest most undeserved thing ever.”

“maybe that’s why she needs drugs,” he said, making you both laugh boisterously.

“honestly, yeah.” you agreed. “he’s probably the type to make her give him head and then refuse to kiss her until she downs a bottle of mouthwash.”

he laughed in agreement. “he definitely comes after, like, three strokes.”

another fit of laughter erupted from the both of you again….

you flipped over on your side to face him as you started to speak. “eds, can i ask you a question?”

“‘f course, baby.” he said, turning his body to meet your gaze. “what’s up?” he began playing with the strands of your hair that fell in your face.

“do you wish that we fucked more?”

“huh?” he asked.

“like,” you said, flipping back over on your back, trying to avoid making eye contact. “are you mad that i don’t want to have sex that much.”

“no.” he said. “i’d never get mad over shit like that. where’s this comin’ from?”

“i don't know.” you said, honestly. “i just feel bad sometimes because we only fuck when i’m in the mood, but like, when you’re in the mood and i’m not we don’t and i just feel like a shitty girlfriend-”

“you’re not shitty, babe, c’mon.” he said. “you don’t have to take care of me every time i get a hard-on.” his hands moved around to cup your cheeks. “you’re fuckin’ awesome, baby. i’d be celibate for a million years if it meant i got to have you.”

maybe it was because you were high, but you couldn’t help but tear up at his sentiment. he quickly wiped the tears away from your eyelids.

“but,” you said. “when we make out, and then we don’t do anything afterward, don’t you get ‘blue balls’ or whatever.”

“baby,” he said. “i could get blue balls just from lookin’ at you for long enough.” he smiled, making you giggle softly as you melted into his hands. “you don’t have to worry about me ever, okay? i can take care of myself just fine. i got a dozen pictures of you to keep me company if i ever need you to help.”

you started blushing and buried your face in your hands, remembering the small stack of polaroids he has of you post-coital. “don’t tell me you actually jack off to those.”

“of course i do.” he said. “i love thinking about you, in every way.”

“gross.” you said, playfully hitting his chest. “but i love thinking about you too.”

“oh, i know.” he said. “every single time you call me up at 2 am because you can’t sleep and you need me to-”

“shut up!” you interrupted, shoving your hands over his mouth to stop his crude mockings of your late-night, admittedly, desperate phone calls.

he responded to your assault by kissing your palms, eventually getting you to release your grip on his mouth. he continued littering your hands and arms with soft kisses until you lay back down and sink into his mattress.

“i love it when you wanna share yourself with me.” he said. “but i also love it when you don’t, ‘cause i love you.”

“i love you.” you said, pulling him over you and planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

“wanna make out and watch mad max?” he asked, pulling away from you slightly.

“fuck yeah,” you said, grinning and you both jumped up and made your way into the living room.

#thank u sza for ctrl deluxe #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things 4 #wc:1.2k

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

sleep like the dead

“And now, I, Technus, shall finally have my electronic vengeance on you, ghost child and conquer this puny human world!” Technus shrieked, exiting the portal in a suitably dramatic fashion. The various weapons around the lab shook and trembled from his power and static from his core crackled, raring for a fight with his favorite enemy. Only the Phantom didn’t appear.

“Hmm, maybe I wasn’t loud enough,” Technus mused before starting up again. “Pathetic Phantom! You can only hope your miniscule half human strength will be enough to take on my squiggling mess of the tangled wires of terror!” He threw back his head and cackled loudly, waiting for his nemesis to show and the battle to begin. His laughter petered out after a bit and the lab became silent once more.

“Well, now he’s just being rude,” Technus fumed, floating up through the ceiling. “Don’t ignore my threats, child. I know you’re here, I can feel your cold core.” He stopped once he reached the ghost boy’s human lair, hovering a few feet from the bed where his rival was sprawled out, sound asleep.

“Come ghost boy, it’s time for fisticuffs! I have some new moves and some great catchphrases I’m ready to try out on you!” The technology ghost exclaimed in excitement, miming some punches. Phantom didn’t answer, just kept laying there barely moving save for his soft, shallow breaths. Technus watched as his breath fogged with each exhale, his core’s ghost sense but it still didn’t awaken him. “Child? Have you expired?”

He leaned forward and gently poked the boy’s cheek. It was squishy but firm unlike a ghost’s exterior and he could feel the dense bone underneath. Phantom didn’t so much as twitch. Technus drew back his hand, unsure of what to do. He’d surprised the child while he was in bed before but he always woke up and they fell into the usual routine. But now he’d changed the script and if there was something ghosts didn’t like, it was change. He flew back down to the portal and sped into the Ghost Zone at top speed, searching for someone who would be able to help him understand.

“Wow, baby pop whooped your butt that fast? Either he’s getting better or you’re getting more pathetic, my bet is the latter,” Ember teased as she strummed to herself from a floating rock near her lair.

“The ghost child won’t wake up and fight,” Technus said in a rush. “I went to the human world but no one answered my challenge. I went to his human lair and he was just lying on his bed thing and he wouldn’t move, even when I touched him.”

“That’s not like him, he’s usually more hopped up and ready to fight than a groupie on coke,” Ember frowned, setting aside her guitar. “Well come on, sparky, lets go check the kid out.”

They developed something of an entourage making their way back to the human portal. A few of the locals had heard that the infamous half ghost child was behaving differently and well, curiosity didn’t stop when the cat was killed. Skulker chuckled menacingly under his breath, Youngblood bounced around the adults. Johnny and Kitty had been going to the real world anyway and decided to tag along.

“Were his folks or Jazz home?" Johnny asked, riding his cycle slow enough to keep pace with the group.

“Who?” Technus questioned, “er no, the annoying children always with him were not around for once.”

“Annoying yes but they don’t live- uh occupy the same lair as the brat,” Johnny explained. As a younger ghost who’d held onto his humanity more than some, he had a better grasp of human culture. “His parents, the crazy ghost hunters in the blue and orange jumpsuits. Or his sister, Jazz. She has red hair and is kind of a know it all. They’re his family, they live with him.”

“Oh those weirdos,” Youngblood said wrinkling his nose. “Always loud and shouting about ripping apart ghosts. They’re not even good hunters.”

“Obviously, they haven’t noticed they got a ghost living with ‘em,” Ember added with an eyeroll.

“It’s a very stressful situation, Danny was worried about what they’d do if they found out,” Kitty frowned before sticking her tongue out at Johnny. “Danny’s a good guy, at least he talked to me about things that mattered.”

“Good target practice, you mean,” Skulker declared as they entered through the portal. Instinctively they all looked up to where the ghost boy’s core was humming but sensed no movement. “Alright, I will admit that is weird. Let’s see what the whelp’s up to.”

It was a bit cramped, the five of them crammed into the small room especially when they were keeping their distance from the room’s only living occupant. He had not moved since Technus had last been in here. At their entrance, his breath fogged again and he shivered for a second before settling back down.

“Well, he’s alive at least,” Johnny shrugged before leaning in close to examine him. “Kid looks wiped though.” He picked up the boy’s bony wrist which had been dangling off the bed, his fingers brushing the floor and held it up before dropping it. His knuckles rapped against the ground but he didn’t stir.

“Johnny, leave him alone, he’s trying to sleep,” Kitty hissed, yanking her boyfriend back by his ear.

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad,” Johnny defended. “But, come on, how often are we gonna get a chance like this?”

“Hmm is human sleep that interesting that the ghost child would ignore all of us?” Technus asked, floating over and laying himself down on the bed. He laid there on the bed next to the boy for a few moments. “I do not believe I’m doing this correctly.”

“Nah you gotta close your eyes and go off to dreamland,” Youngblood said, grabbing a sock off the floor and then some papers from the desk and began stacking them on the half ghost’s head. The boy still didn’t react in the slightest.

“Is dreamland close? Another pocket dimension like the Zone?” Technus, ever the scientist, asked curiously.

“No, you idiot,” Ember sighed before tentatively reaching out and laying a hand on Phantom’s chest. “Yow, man that’s weird.”

“What?” Skulker asked, having been mostly content to watch until now. Youngblood had now piled several more items on the ghost boy’s head but he slept on, unawares.

“It’s just,” she scrunched up her face as she looked for the words, “I know what ghost cores feel like and I’ve been around enough humans to know the signs of life but he’s got both at once. His core flares and fades opposite his heart beat. It shouldn’t work but it does, somehow.”

“He is a most curious specimen, I rarely see Plasmius in his human skin so it’s hard to compare,” Skulker commented. “Of course Plasmius I can understand. He acts like a ghost, thinks like one. But the child, he’s certainly a ghost but he’s also decidingly... human.”

“That’s why we should be leaving him alone,” Kitty frowned, plucking Youngblood out of the air and moving him away from the sleeping teen. “If Danny isn’t waking up with all of us causing a racket then clearly he’s exhausted. We bother him enough, let him rest and fight him some other time.”

“But I wanted to fight now,” Technus whined, rolling over on the bed and resting one arm over the ghost boy’s body. “The Phantom surely wants to hear my latest monologue on how I’m the supreme ruler of everything electronic and beeping.”

“I know I don’t,” Youngblood shrugged.

“Me neither,” Johnny scoffed.

“Or me,” Ember muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just let him rest,” Kitty said shooing the others back and gently brushing some of the kid’s hair out of his face revealing sallow features and dark marks under his eyes. “It’s hard enough being human much less a ghost on top of that; between fighting us and trying to have a normal life I bet he hardly gets any sleep. The least we can do is give him a break before he breaks.”

“I suppose it’s not sporting to kill a sleeping prey,” Skulker pouted. “And it’ll make his defeat more meaningful if he’s well rested and not uh,” he gestured to the Phantom’s general state of disarray.

“Better appreciate it,” Ember sulked for a second, kicking away some pajama pants from the floor. “His stupid human life. I’d give anything to sleep again, just for a minute.”

The ghosts sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, the dead looking enviously and curiously on the silent, sleeping boy, on a world they could only watch but not engage in. The moment was shattered by the front door slamming open.

“DANNO WE’RE HOME AND WE BROUGHT CHINESE!” Resonated through the house. Startled awake, the ghost child leapt out of the bed and hovered about a foot above it for a moment before sinking back down.

“Darn it Dad, I was napping,” Danny grumbled before he opened his eyes and saw several of his ghostly enemies standing awkwardly in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Technus lounging on his bed. “What the-”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Technus tittered happily, leaning into his personal space. “Ready to hear my spiel?” The temperature in the room dropped rapidly as his core ramped up and spilled over into his eyes which were no doubt glowing a fierce green.

“Get out of my room!” He shouted, reaching over to grab his emergency under the bed thermos but a sock falling from his hair into his face distracted him.

“Hey, just stopping by but we were just on our way out, sleep well, Danny sweetie!” Kitty said dragging the whole group through the floor. His core thrummed in agitation until he felt them cross the portal into the Ghost Zone. He sat there for a moment, shaking and panting from the adrenaline rush before he decided he really didn’t want to know. He flopped back onto the bed and reached over on his nightstand for the bottle Jazz had given him the other day.

“The heck is in this stupid sleep aid?”

#danny phantom #another flash is the pan DP fic #just something about Danny being so tired (also ODed on Nyquil) that he just misses his ghost sense going off #and the ghosts being there and without all the threats of death #just kind of hanging around #looking over him curiously snooping #how often do they get to like see him up close?#he's a freak! lets look him over also stack shit on his head!#and the weird space where you just cant remember being human and what sleeping is like but also being so envious that you cant do it anymore #((also just a note that Danny had all his enemies in his room and slept soundly but woke up in a jolt when his parents got home))#((take that as you will))

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

Text

To Be Alone | Tommy Shelby x OC | Chapter 20

Masterlist

Next Chapter

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Things are going downhill for the Shelby family. This causes Tommy and Celia to fight, the tensions getting the best of them. Then Tommy storms off to the Garrison. Celia thinks that’s the last she’ll see of him for the night, but she’s wrong.

Warnings: language, smoking, drinking, familial arguing, mentions of violence (typical to series), sexual situations (PG-13 rated)

Word Count: 3623

A/N: will things truly be ok between Tommy and Celia? Guess we’ll have to wait to find out. Enjoy! :)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

———

The ladies were sitting on the betting floor in the shop. Esme and Celia were working on the books while Lizzie was busy filling out reports that Tommy needed to have done. Things had gotten better between Celia and the latter woman after that terrible night outside the betting shop. They even realized they had some things in common between each other. They both liked autumn, enjoyed reading, and had strong personalities that hardly wavered.

It was quiet between the women as they worked, which made the three of them jump when the door to the shop opened and shut violently. Celia was able to turn around in time to see Tommy storming towards the area where the offices were located. The ladies looked between each other, Celia standing from the chair as the door to his office was also slammed.

"Best of luck," Lizzie offered her best wishes, setting a hand on Celia's forearm as Celia nodded to her, swallowing the lump that had already formed in her throat before she started the walk to his office.

"What?!" Tommy exclaimed as he heard a knock on the door, not even bothering to look up as he kept his head in his hands. He knew that the person on the other side didn't deserve his brash nature, but he currently had a lot on his plate. He regretted responding in such a way when the door cracked open and Celia appeared.

"It's me, Tom," she said in a quiet voice, almost knowing that if she spoke too loud, he would freak out. She was able to feel the tension and frustration radiating off of him.

"Come," he beckoned her over with a slight wave of his hand and she listened, shutting the door behind her and moving towards his desk.

She didn't bother to sit in one of the chairs adjacent to where he was, but instead moved right behind his chair and leaned over, her hands going to rest on his tense shoulders. "What's on your mind, Tommy?" she dared to ask him. She knew that with Tommy Shelby, you could either be opening a can of worms or hitting a brick wall with questions like this.

"It's all gone to shit now, Celia," he muttered, his fingers rubbing circles into his temples as he tried to calm himself down.

"Why?" she asked another question.

"It's too much to explain," he sighed, his hands now rummaging through the stacks of papers on his desk. She felt him getting more and more frustrated as he couldn't find what he was looking for. "Fuck!" he exclaimed, then throwing the papers out of anger, making Celia jump slightly at the sound of them clattering to the floor. "I have to go to the Garrison. Me brothers should be there. I have news to tell them. You can come. Tell Esme and Lizzie that they're welcome as well," he told her, her hands slipping off of his shoulders as he stood. Celia sent a small smile in his direction, but he missed it, as he went right to work on putting his overcoat back onto his body.

"I'll tell the ladies. We'll meet you there," Celia nodded and Tommy did as well, stopping only to light a cigarette and release its smoke past his lips before he exited the office. Celia followed close behind, stopping at the table on the betting floor to talk to the two women who both were donning looks of confusion. "He said that we're invited to the Garrison. He's got some news to tell his brothers," Celia informed them of the contents of her conversation with Tommy.

"The way he looked, I'm sure it isn't good," Lizzie sighed, stubbing out her cigarette before she and Esme both stood and put their coats on. Celia also remembered to grab hers, not wanting to be cold once they stepped outside.

The women then made their way out of the shop and to the Garrison, where Celia was already able to feel the tension in the snug the second she stepped into it. She looked around at John, Finn, Isiah, and Polly, serious expressions on each of their faces before her eyes settled on Tommy, who was standing in the corner smoking a cigarette as he waited for the women to file in.

"We've all arrived?" Tommy asked the room then.

"What's left of us," Polly muttered, making Tommy send a glare in her direction. He didn't respond to her statement verbally though.

"I have information that I have just gotten from Moss," Tommy stated, clearing his throat before he ran a hand over his face. "Harold Hancox, one of our men, has been murdered in prison this morning," he announced then.

"Who?" John spoke up, having never heard that name before.

"The Digbeth Kid, John," Finn chimed in, making Celia gasp as she came to a realization. This was the kid who bumped into her leaving the Garrison that one day. The kid who looked so proud of his wooden gun, and was surely excited to call himself a Peaky Blinder. The kid who was now dead.

"He had his throat slit by one of Sabini's men who was also behind bars. Died instantly, Moss said,'' Tommy continued, then looking down at the floor to collect himself. "Finn. You and Isiah will be in charge of telling his mother," he pointed to his younger brother then. He and his friend both nodded their heads. "Give her our regards and let her know that we will give her compensation where she sees fit."

"Where's Arthur at, Tom?" John questioned then. Celia wasn't sure if his absence had just been noticed by the younger Shelby man, or if he was waiting until the first order of business was finished to ask his question.

"That brings me to my second piece of information. I have met with Major Campbell who has informed me that Arthur has been arrested and placed in prison, even though the major promised us protection," Tommy responded, some more gasps coming from the people in the room. "The coppers got him when he was meeting with Alfie."

"And Michael? Will he stay in prison too?" Polly asked then, her mind surely on her son since this impromptu meeting had begun. Celia tensed up. She'd heard from Polly about the night the coppers came to take Michael away.

"He has also been arrested. Major Campbell said he admitted to burning down a neighboring pub with Arthur," Tommy told Polly what she already knew, making her stand up with a fire in her eyes.

"You will fucking fix this mess you've brought us into, Thomas. And you will fucking fix it quick," she told him, her words dripping with seriousness as she then moved to the door, having heard enough.

"What do you think I'm fucking doing, Pol?!" Tommy called after her, but she was already gone. "Are there any other fucking questions or grievances about what is going on here? Does anyone else want to tell me how to do my fucking job?" Tommy asked the room then, anger underlying in his words. The room was silent and he took that as a 'no', going to the window to ask the barkeep for a bottle of whisky then.

Celia stayed sitting in her spot, silent as she digested everything that had just been told to her. She felt terrible. Felt like she wanted to break down and cry, like she wanted to scream until her voice gave out. How, in a matter of days, could things turn so drastically worse? Now two people were in jail and one was dead. She couldn't understand it. She almost didn't want herself to. Everyone else in the snug went about conversing as if this was just another day...and maybe it was for them. This was the line of business they were in after all. And Tommy seemed so sure that he would fix it. Oh, Tommy. If Celia could just get a glimpse into what was going through his head, maybe she could understand better. But she couldn't get that glimpse. So instead she sat next to his chair in the booth, letting him rest his hand on her thigh as she rubbed what she hoped were soothing circles into his skin.

—

"You've been quiet since we left the Garrison," Tommy pointed out as the two of them entered his home on Watery Lane. He was right. Celia hadn't so much as said a word since the news was dropped on her a little over an hour ago.

"Yeah," Celia nodded, fixing to set a pot of water on the stove to make herself some tea. Hopefully some that would help her to forget everything and fall asleep. After the day she's had, that's all she wanted to do.

"Something on your mind?" Tommy asked, sitting on one of the chairs with a cigarette perched between his lips. Celia just nodded, keeping her eyes focused on what she was doing as she felt his gaze fixated on her. "Care to share?" was his next question, and it made Celia wipe her hands down the front of her skirt before she moved to finally look at him.

"How do you hold it all inside of you?" she started off by asking a vague question, making Tommy look at her with a confused expression. "Your brother and cousin have been put in jail, that inspector lied to you, and an innocent boy got killed for no good reason other than he wanted to be part of your gang," she rattled off the things that had been bothering her, tears welling up in his eyes as she looked at his stoic expression.

He then cleared his throat, flicking the ash off of his cigarette before he gestured to the air around him with his hand, his eyes then falling to the floor as he spoke, "I'm going to fix all of this."

"You can't fix a boy being killed, Tommy!" she refuted, her words coming out louder than she wanted them too. His eyes snapped up to her as she spoke, and she almost shrunk under the intense gaze he sent her. "There's no way you can bring him back," her voice was soft once more, tears now rolling down her cheeks.

"You don't think I know that, Celia? Huh?! You don't think I'm carrying that burden around with me now? That I'll carry that fucking burden with me for the rest of me fucking life?!" he was standing now, jabbing his chest with his index finger as he accentuated his words, his eyes wide.

"I'm just asking for you to make it make sense," her voice came out in a whisper, and being that he had stepped closer to her now, he was still able to hear her.

"I can't get it to make sense. This shit fills up me head all of the fucking time. But you've seen me by now, Celia. You know who I am...what I do. This is what happens, it's part of the life I live. And it won't ever make sense, so you can't expect me to just fucking make it," he ended his rant, his hands brushing through his now tousled hair since it was shaking as he spoke.

"Please just make it make sense," she repeated herself again, although she had just listened to him elaborately tell her that he couldn't. She didn't know what else to say.

"Can we not just fucking talk about this right now. Please?" he asked her then and she nodded, her eyes focusing back on the tea she was making.

"How about May Carleton?" Celia asked after a few minutes passed, her voice low.

"What about her?" Tommy was still on edge.

"Tommy, you went to her house unexpectedly and stayed overnight!" Celia exclaimed, the emotions she had kept pent up over these past few weeks coming to fruition now. "And to make matters worse, you haven't spoken to me about it once. Do you not know what kind of thoughts that puts into my head?!"

"I went to check on the horse. To tell her that her staff was bleeding me dry with all of the unnecessary shit that they were doing. I stayed because the fucking weather was terrible, and I did not lay a finger on that woman, despite what others may have said about me. She's your fucking family for crying out loud, Celia," he explained to her, his voice raising slightly with each word he spoke, "and I thought that out of all of the fucking people in this family, you wouldn't be the one questioning my actions and doubting me so much!" he was now shaking a finger in her direction, his words cutting through her like knives. She saw the truth in it. She had been doubting him, doubting his involvement with May. She felt slightly embarrassed to know that the reasoning behind his prolonged stay there was simply because of the weather. So she stood there, silent, not knowing what more to say. "I'm going to the fucking pub. Be here, or don't when I get back, I don't fucking care," he breathed, waving her off before he grabbed his suit jacket and lifted it over his shoulders, shrugging his arms into it as he opened the door and exited the house.

Celia sighed, tears now falling from her eyes. She decided that she wouldn't be there when he got back, and went to the sink to dump out the now boiling water before she grabbed her coat and made the trek back to her apartment.

—

Celia's tears had finally dried when she stepped through the door of her apartment. She had cried all of them that she could on the way back, and now she was just numb. She got the fire going, grabbed a drink and sat on the couch, staring absentmindedly into the flames. She hated what had just happened. Hated that she saw so much of her parents in the argument that she had with Tommy. It scared her, to be honest.

Celia was still in the same spot a couple hours later when a knock sounded on her door. She shook herself out of the daze that she was in and stood from the couch, her eyebrows furrowed as she approached the door. Who could be outside at this time?

Finn Shelby stood on the other side of the door, and he was still breathing heavily when she opened it to greet him. "Do you need something Finn?" she asked, her brows still furrowed.

"Tommy's at the Garrison. I need you to come with me to get him," he stated once his breathing had returned to normal.

Celia's stomach immediately flipped at the speaking of his name. "He doesn't want to see me, Finn," she shook her head, going to shut the door then.

Finn shoved his arm between it and the door jam, stopping her from closing it completely. "He's been asking for you, Celia," he told her then, making her eyes widen slightly. She would never figure Tommy Shelby out. One minute they were fighting and the next he was looking to see her.

Celia sighed and grabbed her coat from the dining chair before she stepped outside and stood next to the boy. "Is he drunk?" she dared to ask as they started to walk back to the Garrison.

"I didn't see him have many," Finn shook his head, making Celia nod as she let out a sigh. At least she wouldn't be dealing with a belligerently drunk Tommy. She's been lucky that she hasn't had to deal with that so far.

She was able to hear Tommy's bellowing voice before she even stepped foot inside the bar. "Speak to me that fucking way again and I will fucking cut you!" he was screaming at a poor man who had his hands held out in defense.

"Mr. Shelby, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!" he pleaded, knowing full well that this wasn't going to end well for him.

"You should know who you're fucking speaking to before you say anything about how a person’s acting!"

"Thomas!" Celia's voice cut through the noise before the poor man was able to say anything else.

"Celia..." Tommy breathed, his whole body whipping around to see her when she spoke, his hardened exterior crumbling.

"Leave this good man alone and please come home with me. You're not in your right mind to be here right now, love," Celia spoke in an even tone, her hands on her hips. She raised her eyebrows as he looked between her and the man who was still on the defensive before he finally nodded his head and walked over to her. "Thank you," she breathed to no one in particular as he came to her side, allowing her to lead him out then. She could barely hear Finn yelling at all of the establishment's patrons to go back to what they were doing but she couldn't pay much mind to it. Now, her focus was getting Tommy back to her apartment.

——

"Do you want to sit on the couch, Tom?" Celia questioned once they walked into her apartment. Tommy nodded and she led him over to it, watching as he then slumped down on the cushions. She chose to sit down on the chair that was sitting right next to it, her eyes trained on Tommy.

"I fucked up, Celia," he breathed out after they had been sitting for a bit. She didn't respond right away, so he continued, "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that before," he continued, referencing back to the argument they had earlier at his home.

"It felt like we turned into my parents back there," she whispered, confronting the truth. Tommy was already shaking his head in disagreement. "I did the thing I vowed I'd never do, and I doubted you. I doubted you, and I yelled at you, and I made you leave your own damn home..." she trailed off, her words filled with tears.

Now it was Tommy's turn to talk, "no, love. We may have had an argument, but we are not your parents. I will never get mad at you just to be mad at you. There was confusion on where we stood, and tensions rose because of it. I did not find joy in arguing with you, and I will never find joy in arguing with you. I should have told you about the night I stayed at May's. I didn't know it bothered you that much. I'm working to be better at this, I am. It's just that I'm...there's a lot of stuff going on..."

Celia listened to him ramble as she stood from the chair she was on to step over to him. He kept rambling until she grabbed his cheeks and brought his lips to hers in a passionate kiss that shut him up, and kept him quiet once she pulled away. She searched his eyes for a minute before speaking, "I love you, Tommy Shelby. I love you with your head empty, and I love you with your head full. You've done so much good for me, and I know that you will continue to act on good intentions to keep both me and your family safe. You've got a lot going on in your head right now. I just wish you'd let me in once in a while," she went on a monologue then, her eyes not straying from his.

He didn't speak right away, but instead stood to his feet, taking Celia into his arms and holding her close to him. "You might not like what you find if I let you in," he warned her, dropping his forehead against hers.

"My love for you won't change," she assured him, hands going back to his cheeks as she pulled him in for another kiss that he reacted to by tightening his grip on her like she would disappear if he let go, her body pressing flush against his. "I want to help you, Tommy. With all of it," she breathed against his lips. He nodded against her before pressing their lips together once more, this kiss just as passionate as the last. She whimpered for him, and he knew what she wanted, the two of them blindly finding their way to her bedroom then.

"Tell me no, Celia," he whispered to her, his calloused thumbs brushing against her bare collarbones as he gripped onto the material of her dress and slipped it down her shoulders. Celia's mind was swirling as he dipped his head to press kisses to her now exposed chest. The little bit of hair he had tickled her chin as she moved her hands up to caress the shaved part of his head. "Tell me no," he breathed again, lips abandoning her neck as he pulled away to look at her, his pupils blown out. They shared a glance, their lips meeting then.

Celia didn't say 'no', and he moved them to the bed, him falling first before he pulled her on top of him. Their hands moved frantically to remove the articles of clothing that separated themselves from each other. Celia's body was pressed against his as she took what she needed from him, her lips pressing eager kisses to every inch of his skin she was able to reach. The stresses caused by the words that were said, and the problems that would now wait until tomorrow disappeared as a feeling of euphoria filled the room and the couples' bodies.

———

Tagged: @mootiemoose @theshelbyclan @alreadybroken-ts @cloudofdisney @stevie75 @honey-im-hotdog @kagome1414 @epicwaterlemon @magicalxdaydream @the-anxious-youth

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #peaky blinders #peakyxtommy #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

hiii ! could you write something about harry stalking y/n's Instagram but her account is private, so he sends a request and she accepts and she follows him back, and harry likes her pics (which aren't many) and tries to find out if she do you have a boyfriend or something?

this might be quite short but i hope this is alright for you;

“What’s the correct reaction I should use when Harry Styles requests to follow me?”

You asked your best friend, Heather, as you were both lounging on your bed. She was sat up against the headboard and you lay the opposite way around, holding you phone to the ceiling.

It was just another simple day for the two of you. You’d worked a long shift at the local supermarket and Heather had worker her long shift at the cat shelter, both of you now just having some down time to relax and regroup your thoughts before you even thought to start on dinner. Heather, your best friend and roommate, was an absolute tyrant in the kitchen which meant you were often the one to cook dinner. Tonight was shrimp risotto, if you could be bothered to get out of bed to actually make it. However you were no grounded to your bed more than ever, shocked with the current notification staring you square in the eyes.

“Why?” Heather laughed at you, not noticing your heavily serious face to your question, “you having your daily dreams over the man again?”

Okay, you didn’t have daily dreams… Nightly dreams, maybe. You had liked Harry for a while actually, perhaps since he had cut his hair for a movie he had done. You weren’t a huge fan of his and listened to his music occasionally - like when you were folding laundry or on a long train ride - but you weren’t dedicated to him. He was cute and his voice sounded really lovely. He was definitely the face you used in your nighttime scenarios, but you would never admit that out loud.

“No,” you briefly paused to find the right words to say, “because Harry Styles just requested to follow me.”

“You— What!” Heather sprung up from her position on the bed, but you stayed still and eyes fixed to your phone.

“Appropriate reaction?” You asked again, handing her your phone so she could see for herself.

“Um, ascending into heaven, I don’t know do I? The really question is why the fuck haven’t you accepted it?” She was quick to answer your question and even quicker to ask hers, looking at you as if you’d just told her you were born with only one tit.

“Maybe because it’s Harry Styles!” You exclaimed, sitting up and looking at her now the same way she had just done you.

“Babe, honey, that’s exactly why you need to accept him.” Tossing you back your phone you caught it as you looked to her. God, what was happening? You’d been stacking shelves at a supermarket 3 hours ago and now you were about to accept a follow request from Harry Styles - like the same man who you think about every night before bed and yet know barely anything about.

“Oh fuck it.” You clicked accept and then followed him back, switching your phone off and throwing it down onto the bed.

“Did you..”

“Yeah.”

“So…”

“Yeah.”

Then you started to freak.

It hit you that Harry Styles could see all of your instagram photos - even the ones you were tagged in. Then you questioned whether he would even bother to stalk you? Was he that kind of person? How did he even find you in the first place? You had 489 followers to his near 50 million, so it’s not exactly like he just saw you appear in his notifications - you didn’t even follow him until 30 seconds ago. Let’s say he did see your photos, what would he see? For starters there’s the photos of you and your parents dogs and then just your parents. There’s you on the beach and you in the snow. There’s you with friends and still some posted of people you didn’t like anymore. It was okay.

“Do you think he’s wanking off to that picture of you in your lingerie?” Heather broke the silence.

“What?” You looked at her baffled by such a question.

“You know? The one you just posted like two days ago because it was body positivity week at the gym?”

Fuck.

You’d completely forgotten about that photo and you scrambled quick for your phone. God, you couldn’t let Harry see you like that. You’d felt really, really, good when you’d posted it, dressed in your black lingerie from Victorias Secret, but now you were insecure that Harry could’ve looked at the photo and… well, vomited maybe?

“Oh no, no, no.” You repeated as you went back onto Instagram, only to freeze. “Holy fuck balls.”

If your mother heard the tone of your tongue from the past 5 minutes, she would have you strung up on her washing line by your toes. Okay not literally, but something similar.

“What? What’s happened?” Heather pressed, nosy to the current situation.

“He liked the photo.”

“He what?” Heather shouted, a shit eating grin on her face.

“Oh my fuck he liked the photo.” You put the phone on the bed and got up off to stand up, pacing whilst your rubbed your hands over your stressed temples. “He liked the look.” You repeated to yourself, trying to convince yourself that this was actually happening.

Harry Styles had seen a photo of you in your lingerie. That is not something you’d ever thought you’d ever say, but there’s the fact. Like he’d seen you - your body. You paced the length of your bedroom, completely in your own head wondering where you’d go in your life past this moment. Crawling under a heavy rock to live forever sounded pretty good right now though.

“Have you done freaking out yet?” Heather asked sarcastically, watching you pace with your phone in her hands.

“No. Yes. Maybe. Is this an acceptable reaction?” You stressed your hands through your hair and cupped your hand over your mouth in shock that this was genuinely happening.

“So I shouldn’t tell you that he’s also sent a direct message?” She asked rhetorically, making you stop wearing a track into your carpet.

“He…”

“Yeah.”

“Saying?”

“Do you want to sit down first or…” Heather asked, clearly concerned you weren’t handling this all very well.

“No. I’d rather just collapse afterwards.” You nodded your head, egging her to continue.

“Okay…” She rolled her eyes and returned her eyes to the screen to start reading out the message. “Y/N—”

“Oh jesus.” You interrupted, clutching onto your desk chair as your legs went weak and you had to sit down. Heather laughed at you before continuing, her eyes lighting up as she skim read the message.

“I hope you’re having a lovely day. I hope you don’t find my follow request or liking of your photos too creepy or forward, it’s just I think you’re really beautiful and ever since I heard about you I just had to know who you were. If you don’t want to reply, that’s alright I understand, but if you would like to know me a bit more as I would like to get to know you then feel free to call me or just message back. If, however, you are already seeing someone I apologise for this message to both you and your partner. Wishing you all the best, H. x”

Breathe check. Yes, still breathing.

“Y/N?” Heather asked, noticing you were struck still.

“Okay…” You let out a shaky breathe, doing some internal meditation to try and calm the buzzing of nerves that were rushing throughout your entire body.

“Y/N?” Heather snapped you out of your attempt of peace. “What do you want to do now?”

“He called me beautiful.” You smiled at her she smiled back, happy that you were happy.

“He also said he had heard about you from somewhere?” Heather asked, having picked up on that important bit of information.

“And he wants to get to know me.”

“Yes, okay lover-woman, let’s focus here.”

“Right, yes. Focus.” You nodded your head, still in a dreamy daze.

“Should we call him?” Heather asked.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” You threw your hands up in the air, which shocked you both. “Woah, sorry. Do you seriously think he’s going to want to listen to me paralysed at the lips? No.”

“So, text?”

“Text, yes.” You sighed, coming to sit on the bed next to her and draft a message back to the man who was about to change your life.

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technowoah · 3 years

Note

thinking about angst prompt 'you're right. you're useless' with c!jschlatt where all reader does is try to help him and they eventually get to a breaking point because all they do it give and give and give and get nothing in return so schlatt just turns around and scares the fuck out of them :D

Have a Heart

You end up helping Schlatt after hating his guts. And even though you give every thing to your new president he dosent seem to fucking care

- c!schlatt x reader

- gender neutral reader!

- prompt: 25) "You're right. You are useless" (angst list)

⚠︎: swearing, drinking, smoking, angst, mentions of vomit, c!dream makes an appearance 🤭 not proofread

An// I LOVE THIS SCENARIO UGHH! THANKS FOR REQUESTING AS WELL BUB! I HOPE YOU ENJOY!

"Where's my fucking decree at?!"

"It's in my room Schlatt, please stop yelling." You tried to calm the ram-man down by talking calmer than him, but it only seemed to rile him up more.

"In your room?! Sounds like another fucking excuse that you didn't even finish them." Schlatt waved around his hands which one of them contained a lit cigarette in them. "Look at Tubbo he re-wrote one of my decrees before the festival, which is tomorrow may I add, and gave it to me. You havent even done anything I asked you." He scoffed.

You closed your eyes and held back a huge eye roll. You had done everything that Schlatt asked you to do, the decree was actually sitting on your desk in your room. This has been happening ever since Schlatt became president. He was more nicer, well as nice as Schlatt can get, but now he's been drinking like a moster and it never fails that he shows up to an important meeting drunk and makes you and Tubbo do all the work while Quackity and George are running free doing God knows what.

You had been loyal to Schlatt even when you didn't want to be, you had swallowed your pride along time ago. Every. Single. Task you do. And Every. Single. Time you get more put down that you already do.

Your head was hung low while he still spoke. "Hey! Were you listening to me shithead?! I need those papers by tonight!" Schlatt dug his finger into your chest pushing you back a little.

"Also get me my beer and bring it to the meeting room because apparently that's all you're good for." He finally left the long hallway, stumbling a bit as he walked.

You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding until you saw him walk away. You walked away to find Schlatg that beer and try to put on a smile for the meeting you are currently dreading. Quickly you stopped by your room to grab the stack of paper Schlatt was yelling about earlier and grabbed a beer from a random room. Schlatt always has alcohol and cigarettes in every room just in case he needs one.

Dragging your feet along the marble floored hallways you mad your way to the meeting room. You didn't want to get there first or even last so your mind switched up from speed walking to continuing your slow pace. You started to walk faster when you heard footsteps behind you.

"Hey!"

You turned around to see Tubbo waving behind you. You stopped in your pursuit to greet your friend.

"Hey Tubbo!"

"Going to the meeting I see." He smiled.

"Sadly yes." You sighed. "I already got yelled at twice today so-"

"Hey! It's better than three!"

"Tubbo!"

"Im sorry! But am I wrong?" Tubbo laughed a little.

"Well I wish it was zero. I give everything to that bastard and I get nothing." You breathed out.

"Really?! I get a lot of-" Tubbo stopped talking after the shock on your face was prominent. "You know what nevermind!" He waved off.

"Of course he would favor you." You walked off keeping a brisk pace with Tubbo apologizing for Schlatt's favoritism right behind you.

Once you reached the door to the meeting room you slowly opened the door to be greeted with, once again, a drunken president and his right hand man looking smug as ever when he had no right to be.

Schlatt's cabinet was a mess. Quackity was only the vice president because he partnered with Schlatt and George became, well, the vice president to the vice president. George was barely around anyways. Then Tubbo and you came from L'Manburg, hating Schlatt's guts at firsy you two learned to be okay with the treatment. And while apparently, Tubbo had better treatment than you, you still gave that president everything you had.

Everything you worked for was for that drunken man sitting at the head of the table. You basically devoted your life to him, writing decrees that represents Schlatts policies because "you dare not write something Wilbur would". You had pulled him from sleeping at his desk at nights, cleaned up his spilled wine and beer, picked up cigarettes from the clean marble floors. He pushed you around and you let it happen too, some people woukd say you've become weak and they were sadly right.

"Aye! Look who it is!" Schlatt slurred his words together. "There's my beer!"

"And your decrees!" You plopped the papers down on the desk as he snatched the beer bottle out of your hand.

"You have an attitude with me?" Schlatt asked quickly.

"No! No why?"

"'Cause you just threw my decrees on the table like they are some sort of scrap." Schlatt tried to find the right words. "Some sort of shit like its not important! Fuckin' have some nerve huh?"

You didn't respond and went to go sit by Tubbo across from Quackity. Schlatt apparently noticed and took it upon himself to say something.

"Asshole! You gonna respond to me?! I am your president!"

You fought the urge to snap back at him so you bit your lip as he continues to yell and make everyone in the room uncomfortable, even Quackity.

"Dammit!" Schlatt slammed the table. "Fuck you! I could kill you! I have so much power over you! I can control everyone in this damned kingdom that I'm second best to! This kingdom was owned by a tyrant! I saved all of you! And all you have to do is respond!"

He stood up during half of his breakdown, but you didn't know when. You could hear every single word he said, but your eyes were threatening to spill tears and you could feel Tubbo's hand grab yours underneath the table.

Schlatt huffed smoothed put his suit and sat back down in his chair.

"So! We're here for the festival."

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

You softly closed your bedroom door not wanting to make more drama by slamming it. This whole week you held in your emotions and tears, but today was the breaking point for you. Your back slid down the door and you started crying, and crying. There was no need to try and deafen your sobs, because you couldn't even if you tried.

Your mind kept reminding you of every single event if today.

First. Tubbo didnt tell you he was still in contact with the former citizens of L'Manburg, and the only way you found out was that today at the festival you saw them and you asked Tubbo. He finally told you with his head hung low as you two stood on the podium. You felt betrayed.

Second. Schlatt gave you an extremely hard time making sure everything was intact for today's festivities. You were stressed out of your mind.

Third. The festival went down hill hard and fast. So fast everything seemed like a blur. Tubbo gave his speech, really fidgety may you add, and then Schlatt and Quackity began trapping him in cement, you tried stopping him, but you were pushed away multiple times. You knew who Technoblade was, so when you heard Schlatt call him up to the podium you started to freak out. Your heart started to pound out of your chest when he brought out an explosive crossbow and pointed it right at Tubbo's chest.

The next thing you know a huge, bright, colorful explosion went off and with you on the podium with Tubbo's murderer sparks flew and hit you, Schlatt and Quackity making all of you have some sort of burn marks. Tubbo was gone, soon to be revived again for his last life on this earth, but seeing him die like that was the breaking point for you.

You stayed on the ground with your knees to your chest sobbing loudly. It was too much for you. Your lungs felt like they had no air inside of them, and your heart felt like a million weights were hung on it. You kept crying until you heard a harsh knock on the door, that felt like they were trying to break down the door than get someone's attention.

"Stop sobbing so damn loud!" Of course it was Schlatt you rolled your eyes and stayed on the floor.

"Leave me alone!" You cried out.

"Damn you sound like you're in pain huh?" You heard him from the other side of the door.

It was silent until the door was forced open and you were pushed with the door on your side. You sat up again to see Schlatt, who was out of breath, above you and had another beer bottle in hand.

"Why did you open ny door?" You asked softly.

"Why didn't you let me in?"

"Cause you didnt ask."

"Excuse me!?" Schlatt grew angry.

"You heard me." You stood up facing the taller man with horns. He was scary, but somehow you got the confidence today.

"I dont think you know who you're talking to shithead!" Schlatt got closer, but this time you stood your ground.

"Im talking to a drunken, egotistical, ram-man who let someone kill the only person I had left!" You yelled in his face while tears fell on your cheeks.

"You do got some nerve! I saved you!" He turned around, his back facing you.

"You made my life hell!" You yelled at him. "You- you made my life worse! You made me feel like I have no purpose, but to serve you and your ragtag cabinet! You made me feel like a useless sack of shit, you-!"

"YOU'RE RIGHT! YOU ARE USELESS!" Schlatt quickly turned around his faced filled with pure anger and his eyes bloodshot. He was breathing heavily and all the confidence left your body as soon as he stumbled towards you.

"You're fucking useless! You're even worse than Tubbo and he was working against me!" Schlatt then let out a strained stream and smashed his bottle on the floor letting the left over alcohol spill onto the floor.

"Do me a favor and leave, go. I dont need you! I dont need this damned place given to me by chance! By a fucking vice president that dosent even do his damn job! I dont need you! You! You and those bastards ruined everything!" Schlatt yelled and then rushed out of the room while holding his mouth.

You followed him quickly into the hallway and watched as he stumbled into the nearest bathroom to throw up the alcohol consumption of today. The tears kept coming as you ran down the hallway hoping that you can get as far away from these ivory buildings as your feet can take you.

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

Your feet hung off the edge of the prime path and underneath there was a small river. You had stared at the water running for about ten minutes since you got there. You noticed immediately when you set foot on the prime path that you had no where else to go except for pogtopia you learned about.

You sighed tilting your head up towards the night sky.

"Lonely?" A voice asked next to you.

You turned your head and saw the well known man dressed in green. Dream had his mask on, as usual, but hood was down letting his blonde hair show.

"Yeah actually." You responded not looking at him.

"I know what happened at the festival."

"Everyone does." You scoffed.

"What happened with Schlatt?" He asked and you turned your head with a confused look on your face. "Dont think I don't know anything that goes on around here."

"I don't know how you found out, but long story short I'm not allowed back there. I dont wanna go back there." You said while standing up facing the man.

"I have someone that can give you a place to stay. If you want to take the offer. Also I wanted to check up on you. You were so close to Tubbo and its hard to lose a friend." Dream spoke softly, but you could still hear him loud and clear even through the mask.

"Thank you. I would want to take the offer for a place to stay." You airly laughed. "I dont want to see Schlatt or Quackity again."

Dream chuckled while giving you a paper with an adress on it before getting ready to leave.

"Don't worry. He'll be dead soon." Dream said before turning around and walking down the prime path.

You should've stayed.

Taglist(s)

MCYT Imagines: @annshit @bobaducky @malfoysslutt @egorldevi

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Hi!

Happy New Year! 😃 There’s so many to choose from but as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was the one I wanted to pick.

Prompt #35 from Prompt List #2 - Frankie Morales

Thank you!

#35: “About the baby...it’s yours.”

Ohhh, this is inch resting! Enjoy!

Frankie Morales x Reader ; warnings: pregnancy (and any and all things related to it), mentions of sex, drinking, smooches.

Frankie Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“No,” you sighed in frustration as you looked at the small white stick in your hands. It was a simple pregnancy test, but right now it felt like a ticking time bomb. You read over the singular word in frustration before tossing it onto the floor and watching as it skidded to a stop next to the bathtub.

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

It couldn’t be right though, surely it had to be a false positive. But then...what about all the rest of the tests you had taken? All nine others were lined up on the counter, a testament to how determined you were to find out that you weren’t pregnant. But...could ten tests really be lying? What were the odds that all of them were false positives?

“Shit,” in a burst of anger you tossed them all off the counter and onto the floor, tears already running down your cheeks as you sank to the floor in frustration. How could this have happened? You were so careful every other time; you were on birth control and always made sure to have your partners use a condom. And yet...here you were. Pregnant and alone, crying on your bathroom floor.

You pulled your knees up to your chest as you decided to get all your tears out then and there before making a plan. One way or another, something was going to need to happen - and as soon as possible hopefully.

But then, as you sat there, crying and ignoring the incessant notifications on your going off on your phone, it hit you.

Frankie. Francisco Morales. He’d been the last person you had sex with.

Holy shit. No - there was no way. You couldn't be pregnant by your best friend that you'd secretly loved for years and had a drunken one night stand with. Absolutely not. Nope...that would be...the worst thing in the eternity of the universe. Some sort of vile joke that the universe would be playing on both of you. It couldn’t be him...no, no, no.

But...he was the last person you'd had sex with. And before then...it had been months since anyone else. Unless there was some sort of divine intervention on behalf of your uterus and you were some sort of abstinent Mary, Frankie Morales was the father of your baby.

The baby - not your baby. Rather, the small peanut inside of you. Referring to it as anything else was too...real. It was just a baby - a maybe baby. One you weren’t even sure you’d keep, wanted, or would tell Frankie about. But...shit. You couldn’t not. It would come out somehow, if not now, then later, in a moment of indiscretion, or another drunken evening. You had to tell him...even if it was just to let him know what happened before you made some sort of decision.

But what the hell were you supposed to tell him? Oh by the way, remember when we had sex two months ago? Yeah, well, I’m pregnant.

You must have forgotten to take your birth control, and neither of you must have had enough sense to remember a condom. Or one of the two failed...or both. Either way it was a perfect storm that resulted in the worst possibility.

The worst part of all?

Despite the upset and sheer terror you felt, there was a small part of you that wasn’t...entirely devastated. You’d never given much thought to children, having been perpetually single for the better part of the last decade, and hopelessly in love with your best friend. If there was a man that you wouldn't have minded children with, it would have been Frankie. He was a good man, always trying to be better, trying his best, and despite all the shit he’d been through in life, he still managed to have a soft, loving heart. He would have made a good father, that much you knew.

But shit. He was only your best friend, and unlike you, he wasn’t deep in love. Would he even want a baby? A child he’d have what - half custody of while you had the other? It would never work, it wasn’t meant to be...it just...no. There was no way in hell this was going to work out.

With that thought in your mind, you rested your head on your knees, crying and shaking as you tried to wrap your head around it all.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey,” you felt a soft touch on your arm as you heard your name being gently called, “hey, Bee...wake up.”

You opened your eyes, blinking away the dried tears and bleariness as you took in the face looking back down at you with a gentle smile. Momentarily forgetting your predicament, you offered him a smile of your own as he held out his hand to help you up to your feet.

“Frankie,” you gave him a curious look, “what are you doing here? It’s not movie night or anything.”

“I’ve been calling and texting,” he nodded in the direction of your discarded phone, which was blinking at you with notifications, “you didn’t answer and I got worried. It’s not like you. I wanted to see if you were up for getting a drink tonight? The brewery’s got a new ale out.”

“I...umm,” you quickly remember your situation as a sense of panic set into your bones. The tests and discarded boxes were still all over the floor, one right next to your phone. He had to have seen them. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Frankie.”

“Yeah,” he said as he gave everything the once over. Another worry suddenly crossed your mind; you’d been drinking the last two months. Granted it hadn’t been anything crazy, just a beer here and there and a glass of wine on occasion, but still. Shit. He cleared his throat awkwardly as you scurried around to pick everything up. Ever the gentleman, he stepped into help, pausing slightly when he noticed all the positive tests, “you...ugh...you’re pregnant?”

“I-I guess,” you offered him the most neutral look you could muster up, “I just ugh...found out. It’s a bit of a surprise to me too.”

“Oh...you don’t…” he swallowed thickly as he nodded, more to himself than anything else as wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole, “do you…”

“I don’t know a lot,” you cut him off before he could continue his line of questioning, “i didn’t really know I was...pregnant until I missed my period this month. I-I-I thought last month was a fluke but two months in a row is disconcerting. So I panicked and got some tests.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened as you could practically hear the gears turning in his head as you realized what you said. You might as well have told him then and there, “I thought you were…”

“I am,” you tried to cover up your own tracks, “I’m on birth control, so I’m also a little...surprised. I’m trying to keep calm, but in all honesty I’m freaking out.”

“It’s okay, Bee,” he promised softly as he gently put his hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheek. It was hard not to melt into his touch and confess everything then and there, “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, whatever support you want, I’m here, every step of the way.”

“Frankie...I-I don’t know what to say…” your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to break down in a fit of tears again. It would be better to get it out in the open now and to just say it and let him know and -

“Either I get to be the best fun uncle, or...I’ll be here for you either way,” he insisted with a smile small before pulling you into a gentle, warm hug. You were stunned into silence, but decided to let things happen, wrapping your own arms around his waist as you buried your head in his chest.

You wouldn’t tell him now. But soon. You needed to. For your sake as well as his own.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was an odd feeling, walking out of the doctor’s office, clutching a stack of papers with more information than you knew what to do with, including a set of grainy black and white images. You’d cried - as you’d often been doing lately - but somehow you weren’t upset. It had been about two weeks since your surprise discovery, and with each passing day, it became more real.

You were still confused, more than you had ever been, but somehow you’d grown attached to the idea of the little bean that was inside of you. It was scary, more than anything else in life ever had been, but you...just...it was a lot.

No you just needed to tell Frankie.

It seemed like every time you’d tried, something or someone came up and interrupted, pulling his attention away or making it a most inopportune moment. But...shit. You couldn’t let this go much longer.

You’d tell him. Tonight. There was no doubt in your mind it was time to do it and then the pieces could fall wherever they landed and you’d figure it out. Keeping it from him just wouldn’t be fair, and you couldn’t imagine a world where you had this baby and Frankie only thought of himself of an uncle.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you walked into your apartment, ready to sit down and relax - and get yourself hyped to tell Frankie - before he came over for your weekly movie night.

But when you got in, your heart plummeted when you saw Frankie already in the kitchen, messing around with some snacks. Shit, shit, shit. He wasn’t supposed to be there for at least another two hours.

“Bee,” he grinned at you when spotted you, excitedly pointing at the various treats he was setting out, “you’re just in time!”

“And you’re early,” you tried to make light of it as you walked in and set everything down on the table, “I wasn’t expecting you for a while.”

“I know,” he grinned with a wink, “but I knew you’d be home soon, and wanted to do this for you. You’re dealing with a lot, and I just want to help however I can. How did it go? Did you get more information...what am I saying? Of course you did...how was it?”

“It was a lot,” you admitted, just like everything right now, “the doctor was really helpful and gave me so much information. But..ugh...the ba - it’s fine right now.”

“The baby?” he asked as you nodded, setting down the stack of papers, letting the sonogram images land on top, “you can call it a baby, Bee!”

“I know,” you huffed lightly with laughter at yourself, “it just...makes it feel so real. Calling it a baby. I dunno.”

“Bee’s having a baby...Baby Bee,” he said excitedly as he looked over your stack of papers, his soft brown eyes landing on the pictures, “maybe...a maybe Baby Bee…”

Before you could stop him, he reached for the sheet of images, bringing it up to his face as he furrowed his brows to study them closely. A small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he looked at them, and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. You were so in love with this man, it was almost painful sometimes. And you here you were, having his baby and he didn’t know, he wasn’t yours...that bad it all that much harder. Before you knew it, tears were running down your cheeks, and a sniffle escaped your lips.

“Umm, F-Frankie…: you whispered softly as he looked at you with a concerned expression, “about the baby...i-i-it’s...it’s yours.”

He stiffened for a moment, a million different expressions crossing his features as he looked between you and the sonograms and back at you. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, all he could manage was a small, “what?”

“I-I know I should have told you sooner, right when I found out and you came in,” you were crying now, a blubbering mess, “I just couldn’t do it...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this...you’re the only one I’ve been with in almost a year and I-I-I know it was a one night drunken thing, and I thought we were careful but this...just happened. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“It’s mine?” he asked softly as you nodded, watching as his eyes flicked to your still non-existent bump, “we’re having a baby? Together?”

“I-I know this isn’t what anything we expected,” you wiped at your eyes, “I-I don’t expect you to help or have anything to do with it, but I...I want to keep it…”

Frankie inhaled and exhaled deeply, setting the images back down before turning his attention to you. His gaze was on your face, eyes soft as ever before he closed the small distance between your bodies. Before you could ask what he was doing, his hands found your face, touching it tenderly for a few moments, almost as if he was asking you for permission, which you readily granted, before crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply.

And it felt so...perfect. So natural as his arms wrapped around your waist and you put yours around his neck and held him close. He didn’t let you go, reluctant to part his lips from yours for even a moment, only doing so when you were left dizzy and breathless.

“I love you, Bee,” he whispered softly, chasing your lips with his own, “always you, for so long. It wasn’t supposed to be a one night stand, I just got so foolish and scared…”

“I love you, Francisco,” you promised, “you’ve been it for me for so long. I never thought…I never thought you would love me back. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be loved by you.”

“You’ve been loved by me for so long,” he promised, “you never had to wonder. I should have told you sooner.”

“Now is good,” you grinned at him, your head spinning with everything that was going on, “now is perfect.”

“Bee,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, stopping at your lips, “and Baby Bee. I couldn’t ask for anything better. I am so in love with you.”

“I love you more than anything,” you ran a hand through his dark locks, a few tears already spilling down your cheeks again. He beamed at you, gently wiping them away, “but, Frankie...you’re okay...with the baby? Keeping the baby?”

“Yes,” he whispered softly, his own eyes glistening with tears as he nodded, “yes. I want this...I’ve always wanted this. I want everything with you - you and only you.”

“Francisco…” you smiled, and just like that, you lit up his entire world, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he breathed you in, “my Bee and Baby Bee. What more could I ever ask for?

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #forever-rogue's follower celebration

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

Lucifer? I Shrunk the MC…

I thought of the title and was like, “And I’m gonna not do anything with that?” Experimenting with format. Feel this one is a hot mess but, oh well, it was fun to write and that's what I care about.

Scene:

Satan scrambles around his room, knocking over stacks of books and flinging others this way and that. All the while he can't quite stop himself from rambling, "Okay, don't panic. I know I can fix this. I have a spellbook around here somewhere… No, not this shelf… Hold on."

Meanwhile, MC is sitting on the pillow to his bed, practically engulfed in it because they're now only 3 inches tall. The result of yet another enchanted book mishap. This time it was an old tome left on the ground that they happened to trip over. As they watch Satan shuffle urgently through his bookshelves, they sigh and prepare themselves for yet another misadventure. It took five days for the last enchantment to wear off so they may as well get comfy…

"Take your time…"

Reactions:

Lucifer

His immense displeasure about the whole debacle cannot be understated.

Honestly, why doesn't Satan take better care of his things?? He should at least try to keep the powerful items out of the walkways!

Gets into a 3 hour screaming match when he sets Satan's punishment as giving a fourth of his book collection to the school library. Fully expects to find his things "mysteriously" cursed for the next few months.

He does find tiny!MC pretty amusing though.

If he thought they were fragile and helpless before well… now they can hardly lift a fork.

Makes triple sure that his brothers understand that if they're not careful with them, punishments will be extra severe.

Quadruple sure with Mammon.

Doesn't mind carrying tiny!MC places, mostly on his shoulder.

Lets them whisper jokes and funny asides in his ear during particularly dry meetings.

Mammon

First, he laughed because this shit is funny. Not only did Satan fuck up but the MC is now the size of his index finger! He could punt them like a paper football! (not that he ever would)

Next, he immediately starts trying to figure out how to use their new size in his schemes. He's talkin' infiltration baby!

Whether or not tiny!MC goes along with his less-than-legal ideas, he sort of loves that they're so small now anyway.

1) He can carry them around on his head or on his shoulder which is just convenient AND highlights that they're his to other people even more.

2) Watching them trying to do normal things is just hilarious! They get winded from just trying to use a pencil to write a sentence on normal sized paper.

3) Will never admit it, but the feeling of their tiny little arms hugging his cheek is one of those things he never knew he needed until now.

Leviathan

Almost choked on his drink when Mammon plopped tiny!MC on his computer desk.

It was like someone made a little figurine of them! But this one could also walk around and say nice things to him!!

A little disappointed that it's practically impossible for them to play games like this, I mean they're smaller than the controllers.

Totally makes up for it by getting them to pose with his figurines. He never thought he'd be able to get a snapshot of MC and Ruri-chan together like that! It almost makes his figure look life-sized! If only…

Lays a pillow on his lap and lets them nap on it while he games. Can never bring himself to wake them up so he'll stay in place long past the point of being comfortable just so they can sleep soundly.

Didn't notice he accidentally knocked them over into a Beel-sized popcorn bowl (which is more like a popcorn cauldron) while they were having an anime marathon. It took five minutes to hear their little shouts and he had to fish them out. Thanked their father that Beel hadn't actually joined in that night because they may have been gobbled up….

Satan

Is really, truly, genuinely sorry that he shrunk the MC...still thinks it's bullshit that he has to give away his books though.

Tries to make up for his mistake by helping them with whatever they need. He'll take notes for them in class, prepare finger food so that they have more manageable portions, and does all the "heavy lifting" for them when he can.

Continues to assure them that the spell is only temporary but also consults Solomon and pours over as many books that he can find on the subject just to make sure. He loses a bit of sleep over this.

Is the first to step in if he feels like his brothers aren't being careful enough around them. He already feels terrible that he got them into this mess, the last thing he wants is to see them get hurt over it too.

Treats them extra gentle, like they're made porcelain, the entire time. He won't hold them with a clenched fist so he lets them sit or lounge on his palm when they travel.

Chucked Levi out a window and into a tree after he heard about the popcorn incident.

Asmodeus

Adores tiny!MC, they're so freaking cute like this!!

Takes it upon himself to help them with the more intimate things, like how are they going to bathe or change clothes??

Goes out and buys a bunch of doll furniture and tiny outfits like this whole thing won't just wear off in a few days.

Pretty much sets up a little dollhouse in his room for them to use when they just want to be around things their own size.

Takes a shit ton of pictures though, them trying on the outfits, using the furniture, just being super smol and adorable, it doesn't matter he is all over this!

Lives for tiny kisses. It's like getting brushed by a feather on your cheeks, nose, and fingers!

Beelzebub

Would die for tiny!MC in a heartbeat and is not ashamed to admit it.

He saw them happily chowing down on a grape about the size of their head and that was it. He was done. Ready sign his life away to this bite-sized human being.

Loves to bring them tiny snacks or break off a piece of what he's eating and watch them try to eat it. All food looks so much bigger in their little hands that he briefly considers having Satan shrink him too. Belphie talks him out of it, something about the blackhole in his stomach collapsing in on itself...

Was really cautious with them at first, though, considering he was already a lot stronger than they were to start with and suddenly they got a lot more fragile. But the MC eventually assures him that they have faith he won't hurt them.

Still the most anxious of the brothers about it. He always makes sure to watch where he's going, triple check beneath his feet, and slow the pace of his eating down enough to process what goes in his mouth BEFORE it gets there.

Is also glad he wasn't there for the popcorn incident. And got Levi out of that tree.

Belphegor

Very conflicted about it honestly. On one hand, they're too small to sleep with anymore. He could roll over and suffocate them. But on another they're just so… cute.

...And so terribly easy to mess with now. He could knock them over if he blows hard enough, never mind poking them.

One morning he was feeling particularly malicious and put their little shoes at the other end of the dining room table. That amounted to like a two-mile jog for them. He couldn’t help but laugh at their tiny fists hitting his palm when they finally got there.

After Satan cursed his favorite pillow to scream every time he put his head on it he stopped being so mean.

Made up with the MC by sacrificing some of his pillow stuffing in order to make them a tiny bed he could carry around. If he couldn't sleep with them, he could at least sleep near them.

When that wasn't enough they made him do laps around the House with Beel. It was around the time that he was about to collapse into the flowerbeds that they found Levi dangling from that tree. He'd have laughed if his sides weren't already splitting… So much... running...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #honey i shrunk the kids?#poor satan

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dashielldeveron · 3 years

Text

and i’ve gotta crow | takami keigo

hawks x pro-hero! reader. quirk unspecified.

summary: “You’re suffering from amnesia,” says Hawks to you, in your hospital bed.

No, you are not.

“We’re engaged to be married.”

No, you are not.

After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?

fluff/trickery??? completely avoidable angst, bc reader is a little shit. hawks is a scumbag bully at first. reader is honestly kind of violent. dealing with acne in a scene.

When the first things you saw after groggily blinking your eyes open were multiple IVs in the back of your hand, you flipped over and snuggled farther into your hospital bed to deal with it later, but against your will you were forced to lie flat on your back to stare into the hospital fluorescents.

When the nurse fiddling with your IVs came into focus, he said, “You need to lie on your back. You have deep gashes on your lower abdomen, and tossing about too much could open the stitches.”

That sounded like bullshit, but you were too out of it to care. “Yeah, okay,” you said through a croak, “Oh, fuck.” You wrestled a hand to your throat, massaging it. “Am I waking up from a coma? Don’t let anyone see me until I’ve done my eyebrows.”

The nurse laughed through his nose. “No, don’t worry. You’ve barely been—” He cut himself off and frowned. “The news should probably be broken to you when you have emotional support. I’ll be back soon.”

He left.

Emotional support? Wouldn’t that fucking gash on your stomach be—ooh, ouch, don’t move.

Where’s your phone? Where’s your goddamn phone; where’s any of your personal belongings? If they got crushed, you’re killing Hawks on sight.

Hawks, oh, my God. Where is he? He’s dead. If he still has the audacity to bully you professionally—fuck.

He’d cornered you on patrol earlier—whenever that was—and cut into you in that casually, negging-type way that wasn’t enough to report but enough to make you stay up late and freak out about being good enough. It hurt your chest whenever you thought about it.

But this was the first time he’d gotten seriously physical.

He’d alit on the top of the warehouse next to you, landing what would have been haphazardly for anyone else (the arch of his feet against the edge, his toes barely touching roof) and had crouched next to you, his scarlet wings completely blowing your cover as they stretched and shuddered.

“What’s a little girl like you doing in this part of town?” Hawks had propped his chin on both his fists. “Thought shoplifters were more your calibre.”

“Hawks, this is actually really important to me, so please, please leave,” you’d said, keeping your eyes on the group you could barely make out through the skylight. They’d already been partially concealed by crates, so they were hard to see.

“Someone else give you a tip for their location?” He’d tapped your opposite shoulder with the end of his wing, but you hadn’t even flinched.

“Bruh, you know I’ve been on this for weeks,” you’d said, shifting away from him, “I even shared intel at your last briefing.”

“Is that what you were talking about?” Hawks had scratched his chin. “I zoned out. Usually the little cases female heroes present aren’t in my circle, and I like to unwind when brain power isn’t needed.”

You’d planned to rip his wings out feather by feather while you’d gritted your teeth. “You can’t talk to me like that, Hawks.”

He’d laughed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “C’mon, babygirl, have a slice of chill, won’t you? I thought you were one of the cool girls. Relax. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Leave me alone, Hawks. You’re not gonna bully me into joining your agency. You’re not gonna bully me into quitting being a hero,” you’d said, inwardly screaming, “I’d tell you to go talk to someone who’d fall for your shit, but then, she’d have to suffer, too. So, fuck off into a sewer, jackass.”

“Oof,” Hawks had said, placing a hand over his heart and shaking his head, “You don’t have to be such a bitch, sweetheart. I’m only looking for my better half. Didn’t think it could be you, but I’d thought I’d give you a chance to prove me wrong. Don’t take yourself too seriously; just be along for the ride like the rest of us.”

“Huh,” you had said, and you’d stood and strode to the edge of the warehouse to your harness and rope, and you rappelled down the side of it as stealthily as you came up.

“I’ve been watching you all these years, sweetness, and I know you by now; I know how you really feel,” Hawks had said a bit too loudly while he flew downwards at your speed (braggart). “Strip away all of your busy work, your so-called hero trappings, and we’d mesh together just fine. We may be rough around the edges, but we clean up really nicely, don’t we?”

You’d unclipped your carabiner and stepped out of your harness, stashing it in your pack. “Fuck off.”

You’d moved towards the back entrance, but Hawks had slammed a hand against the concrete wall in front of you. You’d ducked under it and carried on, and he’d grabbed the back of your shirt.

“C’mon, if we didn’t know each other, and our eyes met from across the room at some hero gala, you’d be all over me, wouldn’t you?”

You had swiped his hand away. “I’d be putting a lid on my drink.”

His arms behind his back, Hawks had followed you through the door and behind the exposed pipes and closer to your targets. “Saw you coming onto Todoroki at the last one. You looked fine in his colours, but you would’ve looked better in mine.”

Don’t grace him with an answer; don’t grace him with an ans— “I wasn’t coming onto Shoto,” you’d said, pulling yourself up a couple of pipes for a better view—and you’d hit him when he flapped his wings to hover the few feet you’d ascended, because the noise might alert them.

“Yeah, you just simp for him, right? Then you didn’t step outside your comfortable ice queen act?” Hawks had gripped onto a pipe just underneath your ass. “You’re too much of a natural tease for that.”

How can you report him when he’s the head of his own agency? You guess the commission might listen, but what can they do besides slap his wrist? There’s really no one who can stop him, is there?

You hadn’t replied but instead crawled onto the iron catwalk. If you could position yourself about three-quarters of the way across, you’d be able to effectively activate your quirk and get this over with—wait, why would you think like that? You’d been waiting for this for ages.

A hand spreading across the small of your back had reminded you.

You’d flipped over with fire in your eyes and kicked him away as quietly as you could, but all he’d done was sit back on his knees to grin down at you, army-crawling your way through a dirty warehouse.

Would he take credit for your work again?

You’d shaken yourself. Eat my entire ass, Hawks. And with that, you’d continued inching towards your targets. When you’d gotten into position to watch them, Hawks had merely watched you.

You had scowled. “I’m gonna tear you a—”

“You had a hard childhood, didn’t you?”

A chill had unfurled up your spine, simple as that. Hawks now not only had the annoying air of an arrogant pick-up artist but also gave you an intense sense of danger. You’d moved away from him, regrettably away from your target, but Hawks had followed you, getting closer until his body heat had seeped into yours, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his dumb face.

“I could take suuuuch good care of you, little girl,” he’d said under his breath, “if only you’d let me. No one else is crazy enough to call me out or want more than the bare minimum.” His wings had folded in on his back, making themselves as small as possible to get closer to you. “If you give in, tell me yes, say please, you wouldn’t have to let any worries cross your pretty little mind. All you have to do is let me in.”

“Yikes,” you had said, sucking in through your teeth, “God, you’re a creep.”

Hawks had slammed you down onto the catwalk, iron reverberating through the warehouse as it struck your head, and your targets had looked up by the time the catwalk hinges had loosened and had come crashing down in the midst of their meeting.

You’re really not supposed to shoot guns inside. Don’t they know that’ll ruin their ears? No matter, really. You had fought them anyway, amidst crates splintering open from whatever they were shooting at you—fuck, that was a big hole. What’s oozing out of that? Gross, don’t step in it.

One with a normal revolver—his arm had given a woody crack when you’d bent it backwards—God, that was nice. Good sounds. If you could sample them into a rap track, you would.

You’d been planning a collab with a popular rapper while you’d hurled yourself at another villain, sawdust flying—just to keep your mind busy, really, but fucking—fucking Hawks had bested whoever he’d half-assed to the ground and had shouted your way.

“C’mere, you little shit—”

He’d scooped you up while you’d been taking care of it by yourself, and he had pinned you down behind a stack of crates that reached the remains of the catwalk, straddling you but keeping most of his weight off, his wings outstretched yet still hidden from the cloud of sawdust rising with deep gurgling on the far side.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he’d said over the chaos, spit flying, “You can’t handle this; you’re gonna get fucking killed. I can’t babysit you all the time.”

“Get fucked; I’m the number fourteen hero,” you’d said, deadly still, but twitching in fury, “I can handle anyth—”

“Aww, fourteen. And one day babygirl might reach the single digits.” Hawks had sneered in your face. “If she manages to fuck her way through them.”

Your jaw had dropped, and you pretended to cough on sawdust and kicked him off in the confusion. Hawks had grabbed a hold of your calf, grappling for your thigh, while you’d scrambled to climb over crates to the gurgling mess on the other side; you could handle it, and you would.

You’d slapped his hands away, wrestled out of his grasp again and again, and you’d launched yourself into the dust—

Yeah.

While the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, you picked at a hangnail. You hadn’t braced yourself for the explosion, so, you guessed you deserved whatever was wrong with you now. Big-ass gashes on your stomach. Probably broken ribs. Something felt off in your left leg, besides—oh, ho, what had the doctors thought when they’d seen Hawks’s scratches?

What an idiot.

When the door creaked open, the nurse returned with a mug of water for you, but—what? Who’s that bitch following him?

You blinked, twice. With his hands in his pockets and his nasty little wings tucked in behind him, Hawks meandered to your bedside, his gaze on your throat as you swallowed down water.

God, you’re too tired to deal with him. Let’s get this over with.

The nurse glanced over his clipboard. “I’ve already told your partner this, but I thought you would want him here.”

Maybe if you ignore Hawks, he’ll leave.

“You were very brave today,” said the nurse, “Your work as a hero is greatly appreciated. You’re on temporary leave to heal, though. Like I said, you’ve got three, major gashes on your stomach, and your leg’s broken—the fibula split, if you want to know. You’ll be on crutches for a while. You have four broken ribs, and—” The nurse bit his lip and softened his voice. “You hit your head pretty hard. Nothing’s broken, but you should have amnesia, with the trauma you’ve endured.”

Should have? They don’t know? You sure as hell don’t fucking have amnesia. It barely happens in real life, and it definitely hasn’t happened to you. You remembered every fucking infuriating thing Hawks did to ruin your mission, and if he doesn’t square up—

“I’m so sorry, baby,” said Hawks, grabbing your hand. He stroked the back of it with his thumb, and then he took his glove off to hold you skin-to-skin. “You remember who I am?”

You just stared at him.

“Your fiancé’s been a real presence in the waiting room,” said the nurse, “He hardly stopped pacing the entire time you were in surgery. He wouldn’t even talk to fans.”

Oh, my God.

Holy fucking shit.

“Oops, sorry,” said the nurse, covering his mouth, “I know you were keeping it a secret. Don’t blame him, please; he only told me to be able to see you immediately.”

Shutting your eyes, you took a deep, deep breath. You have been handed a golden opportunity on a fucking Hawks-shaped platter, holy fuck, and by God are you going to take advantage of it. Imagine how much you can fucking humiliate him, how far you can take it. How much you can make him pay for how he treated you, and now, if he says he’s your fiancé, then he’s gonna fucking worship you. You’re going to mould him into your little bitch, and he’s going to thank you for it. And you’ll get endless dirt on him just by seeing his place.

Don’t fuck this up.

Exhaling, you opened your eyes, blinking a bit. You curled your lips into your mouth, biting the lower one. “I remember you’re Hawks,” you said in a nervous voice, “and I remember, uh.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” Hawks squeezed your hand, his tone kind. “It’ll come back in time.”

You clutched Hawks’s hand while the nurse rattled off instructions and gave you your crutches, and Hawks squeezed your hand back, softly smiling at you.

When the nurse left, you turned to Hawks and said, “I’m so, so sorry, but I—I feel like there’s something big missing that I can’t remember.” You scratched your forehead with your free hand, dragging the IVs with you.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Hawks tilted his head, still gazing decidedly down at you.

“Oh, God,” you said, “Oh, fuck. I don’t know. Um.” Take it back. Take it way back. That way he’ll dig himself into a deeper hole. The more lies he has to create, the funnier it’ll be. “Let’s see, I, hm.” You already weren’t speaking like yourself, but you looked upward as you faked combing through memories. “I don’t know how things work chronologically, but the most recent memory I have of you is—it’s after a press conference, and I’ve never been in the building before,” you said slowly, “And I can’t find the bathroom, but some press keeps following me, and I—I faceplant in between your shoulder blades, right between your wings. You—” You lowered your voice, shrinking a little in the hospital bed, “You got rid of them so easily, with just a gesture, and you put your arm around me. You were—” You shook your head, staring at both of your hands. “—so warm.”

Was that too thick? That was too thick, wasn’t it?

His free hand shot to his mouth, and he bit his knuckle. “But sweetheart, that’s,” said Hawks, his eyes watering, “That’s only around the third time we met.”

You know.

“Shit,” you said, widening your eyes, “How long ago was that?”

“Three years.” Hawks squeezed your hand and kept the pressure longer than was necessary. “Three fucking years. You don’t remember anything past that?”

You pretended to be scared to look at him. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, you don’t have to be,” said Hawks, and he leant towards you to lift your chin, rubbing his thumb against it, “It’s not your fault.”

You had to hand it to him: Hawks was a good actor.

But so were you.

***

Hawks disappeared for a while after that, but he manifested the day you were loosed from the hospital, more than giddy to carry all of your shit all the way to your flat. He was probably getting some sick pleasure from watching you hobble on your crutches.

“I can help you, if you lean on me,” said Hawks, giving you an easy grin, “I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you have to.”

“This is something I should do myself,” you said in what was hopefully a tough-it-out voice, “I’d like to be able to walk without depending on anyone.”

“I honestly think you ought to be in a wheelchair.” His wings bristled. “But what do I know? I could fly us to your place, if you like.”

“I don’t like. I’ve gotta concentrate on limping. Stop talking, Hawks.”

You got to your flat, and Hawks had guessed which key opened the door on the first try. Drat! He was already doing a good job of acting like he’d been here before, like he’s not surprised that the number fourteen hero lives in a pretty shitty apartment (you started living here as a student and got too damn comfortable for your own good—plus, you didn’t want your cat to endure the trauma of moving).

Hawks plopped your keys in the bowl by the door with a clatter, and he shut the front door behind you, flipping one of the locks.

He set your stuff neatly on the kitchen table—your purse, your tactical pack, your ropes—and lay your dry-cleaned hero suit over the back of a kitchen chair, and his hands were on you the next moment to guide you to your tacky, sunflower couch. Removing one crutch, he put your arm over his shoulder instead, one hand planted on your lower back above your bandages, and he eased you down onto the cushions.

Hawks then stepped over your legs to sit on your opposite side, and he brought your legs to rest in his lap, his hand gripping your non-casted leg. “Gotta keep it elevated, chickadee.”

You let yourself giggle. Time to get this shitshow started. “Thank you so much for helping me, Hawks; I know I’ve been a real hassle these past few days, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of stress. You’re already under so much. I don’t understand how the commission would let you date anyone, let alone propose.”

“Oh, I know,” said Hawks, spreading himself out on the couch. He shifted himself to face you in addition to accommodate his wings—he was now positioned so that they’d drape over the arm of the couch instead of being squished against the back cushions. That bitch, he probably wasn’t used to couches that weren’t custom made to his special body requirements. Spoiled fuck.

“The commission was really pissed when they found out. Do you remember how, sweetness? Right, I’ll tell you,” said Hawks, running an ungloved hand through his hair before shaking it loose. “You remember up to the press conference with the faceplant. Short version is that you hated me for a good year before something clicked. You started acting awkward whenever I was around, avoiding me, and stuff. Sometimes getting red. I thought it was cute.”

You ducked your head. Flustered. He probably likes easily flustered women.

Wait. That’s not who you are. And he’d like you for who you are, if you’re engaged.

But at the same time, if you’re (gag) in love with him, wouldn’t you be flustered by some of the things he says?

Easy, baby. Take it as it comes. Pick your battles. Go with your gut.

And gut says make Hawks eat shit.

“You think I’m cute?”

“I know you’re cute.”

You’re going to stuff his own feathers down his throat.

“We got together at that dinner Endeavor’s agency sponsored. Do you remember that at all? That place with the purple lights. You’d gotten nervous from the crowd and had gone to take some of your anxiety meds. I caught you in the hall back from the bathroom and talked you down before going back out there.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d like to say I’m the one who kissed you, but you took initiative before I had the guts.”

Funny. Hilarious, in fact. That was the night Hawks had solidified himself as the Biggest Dick in the World, because yeah, he’d caught you in the purple-lit hallway, but he’d caught you on the way to take your meds, not on the way back. You were talking yourself down from a panic attack and couldn’t argue him away, so he’d followed you into the bathroom, running his mouth and acting like it was an accident when the tip of his wing had knocked your two capsules down the sink.

He’d told you that if you’re a big girl, you’d be able to handle the rest of the night. Or you could leave at any time with him, and he’d make excuses that everyone would have to accept.

Honestly, you’d love to let his fake memory be true, because then, you’d be able to wear purple again without feeling queasy.

Cocking your head, you smiled. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

Hawks let out a light laugh, craning his neck to rest his head on the back of the sofa. “That’s what you said that night, too. About how it felt out of character.”

“Was I good?”

Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow at you: probably the first genuine emotion he’s shown you the whole time he’s been here. “Hm?”

“When I kissed you. Was it good,” you asked flatly.

“Oh,” Hawks said, his wings puffing out just barely, “Oh, sweetheart, you were amazing. Groundbreaking. Show-stopping.” His tongue flicked over his lower lip, and he shifted underneath your legs, leaning slightly towards you but holding eye contact before carrying on.

You shook your head. “I don’t have the energy to give you the makeout session you deserve,” you said, envisioning drowning him in the bathtub, “I’m exhausted. Forgive me.”

“Always,” said Hawks, “Want me to keep going?”

“You can hardly eat me out when we haven’t kissed yet.”

“I meant,” said Hawks, pausing to visibly swallow (was it real?), “about our relationship, but if you wanna eat—”

“Nah, keep going. So, I started the relationship? I must be crazy. Neither of us have fucking time to sleep, let alone be in a relationship.”

Hawks never shut up about how he was taking time out of his endlessly packed days to spend time with you, how time was precious to him, and if he’s spending time with you, why, then, you’d better pay up, bitch (always accompanied with his hands on his belt, subtly pointing his thumbs towards his cock).

Hawks shrugged with his wings instead of his shoulders. Interesting. Has he ever done that before? “The commission said that, but after I insisted we’d make time, they relented. Eventually,” said Hawks, jerking his head to the side, “Our quirks don’t exactly fit well, so we haven’t worked with each other professionally too often, and, of course, we’ve had to hide our relationship so that we can’t be a public weak spot to each other. Plus, we’re more marketable as eligible, young heroes.”

“Fuck the market,” you said, slumping into the pillows.

“There’s my girl,” said Hawks, grinning with his tongue caught between his teeth, “There’s her spark. I know, baby. I feel the same way, but being made into libidinous body pillows pays the bills, y’know?”

Nodding, you brought one of the couch pillows around for you to hug, and you smushed your chin into it. “Hawks,” you said, so quietly you almost couldn’t be heard over the A/C kicking on, “How long have we been engaged?”

“Four months,” he said, his grin unconsciously fading until he was essentially baring his teeth, “Since the twentieth.”

Taking a moment, you said, “I can’t remember anything at all.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come back.”

“No, I can’t—” You slid your hands through your hair, pulling at it, and you heaved a sigh. “Goddammit, Hawks. I wish I could—fuck. I’m missing something huge. I know I am.” Make him nervous. Make him lie awake at night. “I’m sorry, Hawks. It’s probably something really important, and I—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, it’s all right,” said Hawks, and he stood to lean over you, his hands rising to cup your face, and holy shit, his hands cover so much of your skin; is that legal? He’s got hands. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a big day. Turn your brain off. I’ll take care of you.”

Red flag! Big, red flag! Creep! He’s a creep!

Your gaze fell to his jacket pockets. Does he carry date rape drugs on his person?

“Hawks, I don’t wanna inconvenience you any more than I have.”

“I’m your fiancé,” said Hawks, actually looking you straight in the eyes and not breaking, “I want to take care of you.”

“Sure, in the way the mob takes care of people.”

Hawks’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes narrowed.

Cover it up. “I’m not sorry. I don’t trust your cooking. You’ll poison my spaghetti!” You made a dumb gesture, pinching your fingers together. “Have you seen The Godfather? There’s actually a pretty legit spaghetti recipe in it; it’s not too bad, but it’s kind of watery—”

Hawks brought your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles and let his lips linger. “Watch it with me?”

You shook your head. “I’m too tired. I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll join you.”

“No,” you said, “My bed’s not made with your wings in mind.” Fuck off to your own little sex next, Hawks. Get out of here. “If they got hurt, it’d be my fault. Go sleep in your own bed, all right?” Go home. Get mugged on the way.

Hawks sighed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “If you insist. But you’ve gotta reach out to me for anything you have trouble with, yeah? Memories, opening jars, orgasms, you know.”

“I’m leaving,” you said, reaching for your crutches, “Ten minutes ago.”

***

“You didn’t tell me how you proposed.”

Hawks froze mid-bite of his ramen, but after a quick beat, he slurped the rest of the noodle up. “I was hoping you’d recall that on your own, baby. Get your own feelings about it, instead of me telling you how to feel.”

If you weren’t faking amnesia, you’d fucking break his nose for that. Bastard.

“I imagine once you tell me, the feelings will rush in,” you said, clicking your chopsticks twice for emphasis, “I want to remember everything, and if I don’t, well, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Hawks’s gaze glazed over for an infinitesimal moment. Score.

“It’ll sound goofy once I describe it.” With his wings cramped against the back of the booth, Hawks scratched the back of his neck—a classic move for pretending to be embarrassed. “I’m not exactly known for being romantic.”

Yeah, he’s known for fooling around with anyone who’s glittery, like a goddamn crow. If you’re paying attention.

“Aw, but Hawks, you’ve been nothing but so effortlessly romantic to me since I’ve been convalescing,” you said, rolling up the paper wrapper of your straw and soaking it in the ring your cup left on the table.

“Right, well. I flew us out to the countryside, to this overlook halfway up a mountain. You liked going rappelling there a lot. To practise for missions.” Hawks had some of your habits down, at least. Bet he gets the location wrong, though. “We watched the sunrise. We shared a thermos of tea. I asked you once the sun had risen, but you didn’t say yes right away,” said Hawks, “You jumped off the overlook without your gear, and I caught you. You were furious about it—you didn’t want me to see you overwhelmed. But you said yes.”

Ugh. That sounded about right. That sounded pretty realistic. Hawks was a fucking stalker.

“Fuck,” you said, burying your face in your hands, “That’s cute.” You stretched the skin of your cheeks before releasing, and you returned to your ramen. “Question: did we put the ring into storage, or something? I don’t have the little indent on my ring finger from wearing a ring too long, and I haven’t found anything at home.” Make him sweat. Make him stumble. Where’s the ring, Hawks?

With a flash of his eyebrows, Hawks maneuvered his straw to his mouth using only his lips, looking quite stupid, in your opinion. “Figured you’d ask that at some point. I’m so overjoyed to see you every time that I forget to bring it up. The ring’s been sent off to a high-level, government-backed, support company. I’ve pulled in a favour from the higher-ups. I wanted to turn your ring into something a little more personal and incorporate one of my feathers into it,” said Hawks, taking a moment to slurp his drink noisily, “Depending on how well it goes, I’d be able to help you if we’re separated and know where you are. At the very least—” Hawks ducked his head to give the illusion of staring up at you with wide eyes, his blond eyelashes light against his skin. “—I’d be able to feel your heartbeat. It would bring me great comfort.”

Great, so he’d have a GPS on you at all times, knowing whether or not you went somewhere he didn’t want you to. He’d be able to tell if you went somewhere your non-amnesia self would know about. Great. Phenomenal.

“Hawks, that’s very sweet,” you said, fiddling with the remnants of your straw wrapper, now fizzled out of its snake shape, “Wouldn’t the process hurt you, though? Since you can feel it.”

“Nothing more than a twinge, sweetheart,” said Hawks, holding up his hands, “And I’d bear any amount of pain for your sake.”

You fantasised about beating his head in with the back end of a rifle.

***

When you were told Hawks was waiting for you outside of the recording booth, you told the messenger that Hawks could wait until you were finished with five more takes. You could picture Hawks’s little pout at the news, his feathers bristling despite the closed space, and resigning himself to sit in one of those clangy, metal chairs out front, having to hunch forward so that he didn’t crush his wings.

The idol group adored the ingenuity of bone-crunching as percussion in a song, and along with that and some other combat foley, you were singing the bridge with the rapper of the group (the dance captain would sing your part for live shows). It’d be a good promo for the girl group and for you, and the song, “Spine,” was going to be released as a single as soon as it was polished.

Hawks perked up the moment you stepped through the secondary door to the booth, his eyes brightening and wings spreading to take up more space. “I didn’t think I’d catch you,” said Hawks, standing to take your hands (the cold leather gloves sucked the heat out of your hands), “I’ve got to fly, soon, but I wanted to tell you personally.”

“You’re not pregnant,” you said, fighting the urge to break his goggles/visor/hat thing.

His lopsided grin widened. “Not yet, baby. There’s gonna be a heroes’ gala held at the end of the month, and I wanted to let you know that I’m doing everything in my power to make it a positive experience for you. Here, I’ve got this woman’s phone number,” he said, fishing a slip of paper out of his jacket, “She’ll help accommodate the venue for your leg.”

Stupid fucking bastard man. He probably wanted to pick out your clothes himself, infantilise you and dress you up like a goddamn doll. Deny you your personhood. “I’ll be out of the cast by then.” You slid the paper into your back pocket.

“I know,” Hawks said in a way that was a fucking lie, “I just don’t want there to be any accidents. I can’t have my babygirl any more hurt than she is.” Hawks placed his cold, gloved hand against your cheek, and you, shutting your eyes, made yourself lean into it. “But contact her. She’ll make it the safest place it can be for you, even when I have to leave your side.”

God, galas were great. Big events for villains to ruin. You licked your lips thinking about using a new move you’ve learnt to take a villain down (involving clamping your legs around the villain’s neck to choke him as he crumpled to the floor—your combat coach had banned you from the move after you made her pass out). “Are we announcing our engagement, then? If we’re going together?”

“I’d love to,” said Hawks, “but only if you want to. The ring could be ready by then, if I ask them to rush it—”

“Let’s do it.” If you plunged the ring into icy water, would he start to shiver? Ooh, your ring’s going to act as a fucking bay leaf in your soups for a while.

“Oh,” said Hawks, sighing lightly with his eyes fluttering shut. He pressed his forehead to yours and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “You have no idea how much that means to me, sweetheart. You are so dear to me, and I want everyone to know it. The best damn thing in my life. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, placing your hand on his face to push him away, “Don’t you have work to do, screw boy?”

***

“Did we have a date?” you asked from the edge of the bathtub.

Hawks dipped the razor in the water, washing off the hair and shaving cream. “We’ve gone on so many, darling; you’ll have to specify.”

“No, I meant for the wedding.” Let’s once again play: Can Hawks Cover His Own Ass?

Hawks dragged the razor down your freshly exfoliated, freshly-un-casted, freshly not-broken leg, starting at your knee. “Nope!”

“No explanation?”

“You wanna get married tomorrow? A six-month engagement is rather short, don’t you think?” His nose twitched. He’d said the scent of your shaving cream irritated his nose. Good.

“I don’t. Why didn’t we have a date for the wedding?” You eyed the actual and literal pile of your dead skin on the towel. Maybe you should make Hawks snort it.

“We were too busy working; you’d said you didn’t mind having a long engagement, so long as I was yours. Then, uh, you know. The accident,” Hawks said with a shrug—with his shoulders this time, because if he moved his wings while he was crouched in your bathtub, he’d soak them, and they were a bitch to dry, apparently. Suffer, you rat bastard.

“The commission isn’t involved in that decision?”

“I thought that was implied,” said Hawks, gripping your ankle to turn your calf to the side, “They don’t want it to be a huge spectacle, so even I don’t know how much of a wedding wedding they’d let us have.”

He’s too damn good at this. If he weren’t a pro-hero, he’d fit right along in a theatre troupe.

You’re going to wring his neck.

You caught him staring at the crotch of your underwear (bone-dry, you might add) while he shaved your thighs, and he spent more time rubbing lotion into your inner thighs than anywhere else. He tossed your dead skin before you could make him eat it, and he scooped you up against your protestations about your weight and capability, humming while he carried you to your bed.

The fucker tucked you in and rounded up your cat to place in your arms (your cat disagreed with him and promptly leapt off the bed).

“Let me stay with you,” said Hawks, kissing each of your fingertips. It’s an order.

Yet you shook your head.

***

“The doctors said you shouldn’t drink,” Hawks said under his breath, taking the champagne flute gently from your grasp.

“But I want to,” you said, sticking out your lower lip, “I’m wearing goddamn heels and a fucking dress. I’ve got on makeup, for Christ’s sake. I’ve done my time; let me drink.”

“Baby, you’ve got to stay safe,” he said, and he set the glass next to some 40s-level hero’s place at the long, white tablecloth. “There’s already press paying more attention to us than usual. You wanna make a fool of yourself?”

“Yes,” you said, lifting another champagne flute from a passing gala waiter, “Who gives a shit about the press.”

Hawks laughed too loudly to be natural before lowering his voice. “Baby, you are gonna be the death of me.”

“Promise?”

***

When “Spine” was released on a cool, spring morning to an excitable audience, you were lurking in alleyways by the docks, searching for a fight. When the music video dropped, you were smashing some guy’s face into a concrete wall. While more and more citizens recognised you and your talent, your work for the community, your connections, your popularity—with your rank steadily rising—you were rappelling down a port sewer to pummel a slime villain into dust.

You wiped his blood off on your pants, hands devoid of anything that could taint. You’d left the ring at home.

***

“You tricked me,” you said, scowling as Hawks pushed you forward, “This isn’t the rock climbing park.”

Once you deliberately smashed your face into the glass door and crossed your arms, Hawks held the door open for you. “Would you have dressed up so nicely for rock climbing?”

“A meta-game challenge,” you said, “to rock-climb in a long skirt.”

You glowered about the restaurant while you and Hawks stood in the lobby, his hand low on your back, suspiciously respectfully. You made no effort to hide your distaste: it was the place with the purple lights.

Over there at the absurdly long bar, Endeavor had drunk flat whisky without so much of a growl at anyone, despite it being his event. Hexagonal tables with lilac tablecloths dotted the floor—you’d hidden in one of the few booths, up against the exposed brick wall—but your hiding place had been ruined once a violet disco ball had emerged from the ceiling. Shiny, wooden floor that had reflected your post-panic attack face right back at you and let every shoe strike it with a clatter. No silence allowed.

The whole restaurant had lavender LED lights running around the walls, swathing the place in a distorted sort of purple haze, and any candles lit on the centre tables had indigo flames—you’d focused on how those might have been made in the process of coming down from your panic attack.

God. You’re going to throw up.

The hostess escorted you and Hawks to a farther back room, this one with booths separated by small, brick walls that didn’t reach the ceiling yet concealed the booths’ occupants from each other—unless you were passing directly in front of one.

Hawks made you sit in the booth first, trapping you in as he settled. He had to be on the edge, anyway, he told you, because of his wings. You’re going to rip them off and boil them in the soup.

The two of you ordered. You don’t remember what. You can only channel so much of your nerves into jostling your leg. This is not cool. This place is not cool. You need to get out.

“Hey, let me through,” you said, nudging Hawks, “Bathroom.”

Once there, you lightly slapped your cheeks a couple of times, trying to ground yourself through physical sensation. No use. Can’t they fucking use normal lights in this place?

You didn’t have your panic meds, because you’ve never needed them rock climbing. You can do it. You’re fine. You’re fine. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.

You took your time meandering back to the booth, coming to a halt at the end of the narrow hallway and ducking behind the corner.

Endeavor stood by your booth, his arms crossed over a flaming chest. You caught your breath at the sight of his orange fire, a comforting contrast to all the damn purple, but still—Endeavor. Talking to your (gag) fiancé.

Without the courage to interact with Endeavor, you listened at the corner for his departure.

“Nah, she can handle her bladder just fine. It’s her nerves,” Hawks was saying, hidden by the bricks, “She likes hiding. She doesn’t necessarily like being in the spotlight.”

“Yet she hasn’t completely withdrawn as Eraserhead has. You’ve picked a strange one to marry.”

From the angle Endeavor glared at him, Hawks must be slumping in his seat. “But that’s what so great about her. And it’s hard to process, y’know, like, she’s finally mine. You follow?”

“Regrettably,” said Endeavor, “Regardless, I offer my congratulations that your courtship finally worked out in your favour. You should have told me sooner.”

Courtship. That’s a funny way to pronounce bullying.

“Eh, I’ve gotta have some secrets, don’t I? Can’t betray my otherwise cool exterior.” Hawks laughed. “I can’t believe I’ve been allowed such happiness. The woman I’ve loved for years is gonna be waking up to me every day soon, y’know?”

Hawks has got to know you can hear him, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying those things. Endeavor must be in on Hawks’s ruse, since Endeavor is Hawks’s closest—actually, Endeavor isn’t the type to revel in romantic shit. Endeavor straight-up isn’t the type to revel. To the best of your knowledge, Endeavor doesn’t genuinely like Hawks as so much as tolerates him; when did they get so close? It must have taken a long time—

Time.

You could feel your IQ dropping as you actually considered: had you been in a legitimate coma? Had you (fuck) genuinely had amnesia?

No, no. You don’t live in Crazytown. Your eyebrows hadn’t been overgrown when you’d woken up in the hospital. You’d only been there a day.

Of course, Hawks is a vain piece of shit and does his own eyebrows, so he might have considered that yours were a piece of pride/insecurity for you and may have done them while you were—did Hawks do his own eyebrows? That spoiled fuck probably had someone else to do them for him. If they were naturally like that, you were going to throttle his ass.

You didn’t fucking have amnesia. Hawks is and always has been a stupid, clammy birdbrain. He’s always been cruel to you. He didn’t fucking like you.

He sure as hell wasn’t in fucking love with you.

Oh, my fuck, what if your memories of Hawks have been fabricated by a coma-addled mind and that—

“Hey, there,” said—said someone, some pale-ass, sleep-deprived freak who startled you out of your head, “Are you all right? You look—I mean, do you need some water? A chair?”

You blinked, yet he wouldn’t come into focus—you were taking in details about him, ones that didn’t fucking matter (chain on his wallet, three rings all on the left hand, a button-down missing the last button, a cloud of axe body spray), but he didn’t register as a human person. He couldn’t; you hadn’t grounded yourself yet. You yourself still had a frazzled, cartoon scribble buzzing inside of your chest, and until you vomited it up, a panic attack may yet still happen.

You can’t deal with anyone new right now.

A spark of recognition crossed the new guy’s face, and he, through a smirk, asked if you were your hero name.

Oh god oh fuck not now

“Sweetheart,” came Hawks’s melodious drawl (registering first his voice, then bodily warmth, then the wingtip covering your ass), “You were taking so long that I came to check on you.” He pulled you by the waist towards him, blocking the guy from seeing your face by pressing it into his chest. “Who’s this?”

Who cares. All you could focus on (sharp and overwhelming, nothing else but) was how fucking incredible Hawks smelled, and at this point, you’d use anything to bring yourself back down to earth. A small voice in the back of your head told you that freaking out to this degree in this particular situation was leaning towards pathetic, since basically nothing happened, besides being in an uncomfortable environment and being accosted by a fan at the wrong time, but you? You did not control the rate at which your brain panicked.

And really, no rhyme or reason played into why your grabby little hands itched for human contact once safe in the booth again, why Hawks’s scent lay on your tongue more heavily than your soup, why the overwhelming sensation of being so fucking spaced out of it threw its entire weight upon your shoulders—you couldn’t find yourself. You were lost.

And in this horrible, purple place, the only thing that’s familiar was Hawks.

When you scooted as closely as you could to him in the booth, keeping your glare towards your lap while you looped your arm under his to snuggle into it, Hawks cleared his throat to say, “What’s this?”

You scowled into his jacket, both hands gripping his forearm.

He set his chopsticks down. “How can I help, darling?”

Growling, you bonked your forehead against his shoulder, dragging your hands down to his.

“Hey,” said Hawks, and he guided your face towards his and stroked your cheek with his thumb, “Did that guy bother you too much before I got there?”

Turning your mouth towards the hand cupping your cheek, you kissed his palm, bit the leather, and kissed it again before burying yourself in his shoulder again.

He rested his hand on the crown of your head. “What’s the matter? Can you tell me?”

“Not sure I can put it into words,” you said, “I think I wanna go home.” You bit the fabric of his jacket and gnashed it between your teeth.

“I can handle that,” said Hawks, “Gimme a moment to get takeaway boxes, yeah? Then we’ll leave, and you’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, you were still clutching onto his arm by the time he unlocked his darkened penthouse (because you’re not gonna hold his hand. God), but you slapped his hand away from the light switches.

“Turning them on would be too much stimulation,” you said, “Please don’t.”

Hawks hummed against the top of your head, placing keys and both of your phones on the kitchen counter. “Bed or couch?”

“Window,” you said.

“Window?”

“I’m assuming you’ve got one.”

“I do,” said Hawks, guiding you through his dark apartment, probably past scarily expensive, posh shit. He led you to what was most likely his living room, with the cool, dim light of the night sky through a vast, single-frame, wall-to-floor window illuminating furniture custom built for his wings, but he eased you down onto the carpet, tugging your shirt upwards so that the window would be touching your bare skin on the small of your back.

Hawks yanked his boots off, late, instead of at the door, and he tossed them over his shoulder. He took yours off, too, and once he’d set them aside, he sat next to you against the window, a hand on your thigh.

“Better?”

“Probably,” you said, staring at the triangle of light beige carpet between your crossed legs.

“Need me to talk? You need to talk?”

“Not right now.”

Hawks was a dumbass. He’s such a fucking dumbass. But he’s a dumbass who’s here right now, and he’s interested (?) in you, interested in helping you. And good golly, you have to be touched. Hawks’s offering warmth, freely, potentially lovingly, and all you had to do was reach out to take it, even if you didn’t reciprocate whatever sentiment was motivating him yourself.

Do you really want to take what you have no feelings for?

Hawks lies a lot to Endeavor. To everyone. He might not have been lying earlier. What reason had he to lie?

Guess it didn’t matter, because you were lying.

But good God, you haven’t been kissed in a long time. Haven’t felt safe or loved. You could…you could indulge for a few hours in order to calm down. You could pretend.

The last ten months had proved that.

“Hey,” you said idly, reaching out to grab the inner fleece lining of his jacket to rub it between your fingers, “Hawks, I’m gonna—I’m gonna put my mouth on your mouth. Okay?”

Hawks’s wings ruffled and constricted themselves so that he could move closer to you, and his hand has migrated from your thigh to grip your hip—how could anyone’s hands encompass that much of you? Your fucking hands couldn’t, not in the way his does.

(Bird man big and safe.)

([No, fuck you, don’t think that.])

(BIRD MAN SAFE—)

Shoved is how you’d describe the first few seconds of the kiss, followed closely by wet and you’d think his teeth would be sharper. Your lips didn’t line up with his completely until he adjusted your chin with two of his fingers, guiding it open just barely, as well, so that his tongue could graze your teeth—it took you a moment of processing before parting them, with a final don’t think! shouted to your neocortex.

Birds have a higher body temperature than other animals, on average having a body temperature of 105 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius). The colour of their feathers, of course, affects how much light and heat they absorb, with the lighter coloured feathers—say, red—reflecting more, rejecting outside heat sources.

Yet Hawks gripped you like he’d fucking freeze if he weren’t clutching you, if he weren’t straddling your legs, one palm flat against the cool of the window by your head. The other snaked around you, his forearm lying almost vertically up your back to press down between your shoulder blades, keeping you as near to his chest (he probably didn’t realise it, but his fingers ran across the curve of your shoulder blades where his wings were on his own body.

For some reason, the thought crossed your mind that you weren’t enough for him, because you were too dissimilar.)

Don’t think!

When he massaged your tongue with his, applying pressure sporadically, you returned the action—have you ever seen a bird tongue up close? They’re fucking nasty little things, looking more like a grub than anything else. Thank God Hawks had a normal, human tongue that performed particularly delightful, normal things, like drag across the roof of your mouth and aid in sucking phenomenal hickeys onto your jawline, licking over where he’s bitten and kissed.

Stop thinking about bird anatomy. Hawks has no discernible bird traits except for his fucking wings. He’s not a fucking bird man. He’s just some dude with wings. And not all birds have functional wings; for example, the ostrich and the penguin do not have wings to be used in flight—

Oh, my fuck. Turn your brain off.

Your stomach lurched. That had been something Hawks had told you too often, back before your accident.

It’s what he wants.

Hawks fucking whimpered when you pulled the shorter hairs at the back of his neck, prying him away from your skin with great difficulty—he kept trying to touch you with his mouth and tongue in the process.

“Let me have more,” he said, panting, his breath heavy and just below your ear, “Please.” He pressed his lips to the spot in front of your ear in a weak kiss, having spent himself for the most part. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for so long.”

“I don’t—” You fake-stuttered, but it turned out you needed the time to put your thoughts into words. “I don’t think I’m back yet. I’m,” you said, taking as deep a breath as you could with Hawks smushed against your chest, “Something’s missing. Something big.” That’s right. Steer it back in his direction. Make the bird man sweat. “I don’t—something doesn’t feel right.”

It took a moment, but Hawks nodded fervently, shutting his eyes. “Of course. Yeah. Yeah, I get it, sweetheart. Can’t do anything when your heart’s not in it.”

Your heart’s not the problem. “Thank you for being so understanding, Hawks,” you said, untangling yourself from underneath him, “Would you just, uh, hold me for a while?”

His wings wrapped around the both of you on his enormous bed, still fluttering with each slow breath he took. Hawks almost looked genuine while he slept, and probably for the best—at least he was getting rest; at least his guard might be down.

You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing.

***

“Rank speculation is out,” you said, scrubbing the pumice stone over a patch of dry skin on Hawks’s back and scrolling through the twitter with your other hand, “Take a look.”

He opened the link you sent once he’d safely removed a dead feather that had been lodged in an odd spot in a wing. “Huh. Think I could truly take on Endeavor?”

“Well, he’s got that abusive-to-his-family thing, while you’re rocking the preparing-for-my-wedding look, and he can’t network non-aggressively to save his life.”

“Nor can you.” Hawks shot you a smirk over his shoulder.

“Zoom in on my speculated nine, baby,” you said, flicking away some dead skin with a satisfied/disgusted sneer, “And I didn’t have to sleep my way there.”

“Ah, ha, ha,” said Hawks, “Knew you could do it. Whoever’s told you that is gonna have to deal with my foot up their ass. You’re more than capable of getting there on your own.”

“Which I did. I have.” Wait. Hawks told you that. No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s a commonly said, misogynistic comment towards women heroes. Hawks isn’t special. “But having your foot up someone’s ass wouldn’t be good for PR, unless you wanted to advertise that you’re a kinky son of a bitch who’s cheating on his fiancée.”

“I would never,” said Hawks, and, contorting his arm, he grabbed your hand with the pumice stone to kiss the back of it, “But my PR is solid, regardless.”

“If the public knew how much time you had to spend preening these fucking wings, they’d probably appreciate you more. Or call you conceited.”

Hawks hummed. “It’s a necessary evil,” he said, returning to his wingtip to search for dead feathers. “Thank you for helping.”

“No problem. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get to see how—Hawks, holy fuck. Do you feel that?” You ran a finger near the base of a wing.

“It’s your finger?”

“No, this,” you said, tapping the spot.

“No?”

“My God. It’s a dilated pore of a winer,” you said, already reaching for the tweezers, “Right at the base of your wing. It’s basically an enormous fucking blackhead. I’m popping it. Oh, my God. I’ve never seen one in real life.”

“You’re popping it?”

“You didn’t have a problem with my getting the ones where your costume sits.”

“No,” said Hawks, rolling back his shoulders, his wings spreading with them, “Gotcha. Get on with it.”

“Can I film it?”

“What? No,” said Hawks, “No one can see me preening, let alone dealing with acne.”

“There’s sure to be another hero out there with a wing quirk, right? I don’t know how you can’t feel it.”

“Yeah,” Hawks said slowly, “Since my feathers can feel—I suppose where the wings merge with my skin is pretty numb. I haven’t ever had to think about it.” He licked his lips. “Funny.”

He continued to scroll through his feed and tend to his feathers while you worked at his back. “Bad news: the tabloids got a hold of our grocery list from the last time we went to the shops. I must have dropped it at some point in the store.”

“Oh, so do they know what kind of ice cream we prefer? The horror.”

“No, but they’ve brought in some hack handwriting analyst. Talking about our annotations for each other on the list. Something about how you’re logical and I’m a romantic. The writer of the article is practically swooning.” Hawks pulled out a clot of feathers with his teeth and spat them aside. “With good reason, though. The trashy pictures they snapped of us are hot.”

“Describe them to me.”

“I can show you—”

“No,” you said, concentrating on your work, “I don’t want the image imprinted on my brain. Describe them in your own words.”

“All right,” said Hawks, crossing his legs and placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him, “To start, the flash is on.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. We’ve got that distantly surprised look going on. It looks like we’re near the eggs and cheese. You’re not looking at the camera, but I believe it’s in the moment I caught it.” Hawks flicked away a feather and let it fall to the carpet. “My hand’s on your waist. The other’s on the cart. You’ve scrunched your face up in concentration; it’s really cute.”

“Aw, we should get it framed,” you said, wiping away the gunk with a tissue and wadding it up so that no one will ever have to see or touch it ever again.

“Never,” said Hawks, “The first picture of us I wanna get framed should be on our wedding day.”

“It’s coming along quickly,” you said, setting aside the tweezers, “Bit more quickly than I’d thought it would.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” said Hawks with a light laugh, and you ducked to rest your head against his shoulder, straining your neck to reach him over his wing.

Hawks clicked his non-nasty, non-bird tongue. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Sighing, you said, “Turn your head this way.”

He did you one better, since he anticipated your plan. He twisted around, keeping his legs crossed as he pulled you into his lap. His wings initially bristled but wrapped around you when his arms did, and Hawks kissed your cheek, once, twice, until he arrived at your mouth, where he barely grazed your lips, rather letting his hot breath spread over your face—and he grinned up at you with half-lidded eyes (he’d left off his eyeliner today, but the natural marks below his waterline kept his eyes sharp, anyway).

“Kiss me, you fucking idiot,” you said, overriding whatever he was about to do by kissing him yourself, hard and open-mouthed, almost violent in its fervent. Yet Hawks held you lightly, delicately, but still close enough to freeze.

You ran your cold, cold hands over his bare abdomen, pressing your thumb down with considerable force to trace his muscles (he grunted at that, and that’s it; that’s right—make him squirm; make him sweat; make him yours). His finger only toyed with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, as if waiting for you, which didn’t line up with what you had garnered about Hawks at all, but c’mon, man, come on; didn’t you want this all those months ago? Almost a year, now? Years, if what he said to Endeavor is true? But when he flinched away with a shaky breath once your cold fingers circled his nipple, you knew this was where you were supposed to be: right here, in Hawks’s lap, completely destroying him with hardly anything at all. Nothing but light touches and a strategic flick of your tongue. Idiot man. He must really like you if this is doing it for him.

You slowed and opened your eyes at that thought, frowning, and you pulled away. With the back of his hand, Hawks wiped saliva off of both of your mouths, yours first.

He waited for you.

“If you can’t take all of me, then what’s the point?”

He tilted his head. “I’ll take whatever part of you you’re willing to share.”

“I’m missing something.”

“I know.”

“I want to find it before we get married.” You laid your palm flat on his chest, and he grinned at the cold.

“You can find it,” he said, “I know you can.”

“I don’t know what I’m blocking out,” you said, lying—or maybe you weren’t? Fuck it. “Whatever I’m repressing is really fucking with me.”

“Take your time,” said Hawks, running his tongue over his lower lip. “I’m here for—”

“Hawks,” you said, faking the light of realisation in your eyes, accompanied with a sharp inhale, “I can’t remember your name.”

Hawks’s mouth snapped shut.

“You told me once. I know you did,” you said, moving to cup his cheek after tapping the mark underneath his eye, “but the memory—there’s a blur where you spoke. I—” You cut yourself off, biting your lip. “That, that might be it. I don’t know. Everything else about the scene is in perfect detail. I remember what fucking socks I was wearing, for Christ’s sake. But you. What you said. Maybe it’s something so personal, so intimate, that I’ve repressed it. Maybe it was too much for me to handle.” You cupped his face with both hands now, forcing him to look at you. If you hadn’t been scrutinising him for some evidence of breaking character, you wouldn’t’ve seen the minute quivering of his upper lip. Hardly there, but it was there. “It’s a part of you that I want. Even if I couldn’t handle it before, I want to try now.”

Hawks averted his gaze, even though he couldn’t move his head. And bang, you’ve got him. Hawks’s name was still strictly secret, hidden by the commission, but if he’s genuinely in this dumbass situation for the long haul, if he’s truly in it for you, then he would have told you. Even if he wanted you to continue to call him Hawks, your own fiancé would have told you his damn name.

So, this is it. The way out.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out you’ve been faking all this time. Good. Let each feather burn.

“Keigo,” he said, staring into your eyes with a newfound determination, “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Oh, shit—you clapped a hand over your heart, your eyes widening. Maybe you could play this off as memory recovery instead of absolute shock? But you hadn’t any memories to recover, probably. Holy fuck.

Where do you go from here?

You tried to say his name but ended up simply mouthing it, and after clearing your throat and coughing a bit, you managed to say it aloud. “Keigo,” you said softly, reaching for his hand, “Keigo, I fucking love you.”

You’d only been kissing him for a few moments before his wings shuddered in a muscle spasm and flung you off to the side.

***

Only a commission higher-up witnessed your wedding. She stood silently to the side the entire ceremony in the courthouse and only shook Hawks’s hand afterwards.

You and your cat essentially moved into his penthouse and adjusted. Your mostly empty apartment stayed leased under your name.

Sometimes, you’d note that you turned your brain off and instantly be hit with a lightning strike of self-loathing—but you didn’t have to consciously decide to be affectionate with Hawks. Being with him came naturally and easily. Probably for the best, since if you had to think about it, you’d screw it up.

You stayed together. Supported each other. Sneaked out to see the other on patrol. Took care, listened to each other. Defended each other. Worked it out.

And now, you stared up at the ceiling fan whirling in your darkened bedroom, Keigo lying on his stomach next to you in the bed as he slept. Your cat catloafed between his wings and nestled into them, rising and falling with each breath he took. Hawks was perfect, always saving the day, working up a routine to mesh with your fighting style and quirk, always charming and easygoing with the people he rescued, indulging you in your ferocity, and Keigo, Keigo whispered sweet and dirty things into your ear when he spotted you in public, made you laugh, worked wonders with his cock, helped you clean up before he even thought of preening himself, held you, and made you feel held. He’s got it bad.

And maybe you do, too.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out.

#bnha #mha #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #hawks x reader #hawks/reader #hawks imagine #hawks fic #hawks headcanons #hawks fanfic #hawks fanfiction #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo/reader #takami keigo imagine #takami keigo fic #takami keigo headcanons #takami keigo fanfiction #takami keigo fanfic

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jungwonenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Field Trip

A/N: I’ve been working on this pic for a while, I hope you guys like it :)

Pairing: Jake Sim x fem! reader

Word count: 5.2k

Genre: fluff, high school au

Warning: mentions of virginity loss and porn, occasional swearing, nothing else I think

“How many shirts should I take?” Jake asks you through your phone.

“Uhm, we’re there for three days so take four just incase.” you reply and you pack your suitcase as well.

You two were preparing for your five day field trip to New York which was happening tomorrow.

You packed your favorite jeans and hoodies and even a dress just in case. You can't help but romanticize the hell out of New York after being stuck in this small town all your life.

“How many pairs of underwear should I take?” he asks again and you giggle. He’s like a kid sometimes. “How many times do you think you’ll change your underwear?” you say while sitting on your suitcase to get it to zip closed.

“Probably three but I’ll take four just in case.”

“What a quick learner.” you say and you hear him scoff.

Jake has been your best friend since elementary school when you scraped your knee during tag and he took you to the nurse’s office. He’s been a sweetie since day one.

“I doubt I’m gonna get any sleep tonight,” you sigh. “I’m too riled up.”

“Same,” he sighs. “I wonder how many flashers we’ll run into.”

You laugh. “Why is that the first thing you think of you creep.”

“Hey now,’ he chuckles. “I thought that was the stereotype.”

You hop onto your bed and pick your phone up, it looks like Jake’s doing the same. All you can see are his eyes and a bit of his nose bridge. His dark hair has started to grow out and it was poking at his eyelids.

Your phone pings with a text from Jake. It’s a horrendous screenshot of you climbing over your phone to get into bed. You gasp.

“I’ll kill you.” you tell him as he’s holding in his laugh. “I will do it.”

His laugh bursts out of his throat, jolly and warm. “Why I love it.”

“I hate you so much. Delete it.”

“No way,” he bunches his brows. “You have an entire photo album dedicated to bad pictures of me.”

“And I also have an entire album dedicated to good pictures of you.” you roll your eyes.

“You do?” he asks. “That’s a bit fangirly of you.”

“Me? A fangirl? Maybe Madeline but not me.” you scoff.

“Madeline?” his voice perks up. “She likes me?”

“Yeah, I thought you knew this.” you swear that you’ve brought this up before. Maybe he just forgot.

“Nuh-uh.” he says.

“Well...” you say. “do you like her back.”

“I mean she’s nice but,” he hesitates. “not really.”

“Why not? She’s smart and super pretty. I'm so jealous of her hair.” you say. Madeline was a tan ginger girl with curly fiery hair down to the small of her back.

“You have nice hair.” he says nonchalantly.

You touch it and rub it between your fingers. “It’s whatever.”

He scoffs. “You’re too hard on yourself all the time.”

“I’m a teenage girl, I can’t help it.” You defend yourself, but he isn’t lying.

“I’m bored, can I come over?” he says suddenly.

“Tonight? We have school tomorrow.” you reply.

“Maybe I’ll just sleep over.” he says while turning over in his bed. “I don’t think our parents would care.”

Sleepover? You two hadn’t done that since you turned eleven.

“Where would you sleep?” you ask him, already imagining how this would go.

“I don’t know on the floor.” he shrugs.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor I’ll feel bad.” you argue.

“I don’t care, I’m the one who suggested it, plus I miss you dude, I wanna hang out.” he says and you smile.

“I saw you on Friday.”

“Yeah, a whole two days ago.” he gets up off his bed. “Okay I’ll be there in ten.”

“What-” you start but he cuts you off.

He brings the camera up close to his face and he flashes you a smile. “Bye!” he hangs up.

Your palms feel a bit sweaty and you brush them off on your pants. Why am I nervous? You guys have had plenty of sleepovers before but the rest of the boys were always there, probably passed out from beer or a sugar crash.

You tidy your room up a bit and prepare a little blanket bed on the floor right next to your actual bed.

You hear knocking at the door right when you expected, Jake was hardly ever late.

“Hola~” he says as he walks in with his backpack on. He takes his shoes off before skipping over to your room. You giggle to yourself.

He falls back onto your bed with a big sigh. “I missed being here.”

“Why? There’s nothing cool here. Your house is way cooler.” you say and he smiles.

“Well I can’t deny that,” he shrugs and you punch him in the arm. “you’re the one who said it.”

“We get it rich boy.” you roll your eyes and sit down next to him.

“I’m just playing,” he sits up. “you know that.”

“I hope you showered after practice,” you say. “I don’t want you stinking up my bed.”

He whips his head to you, looking a little bit offended. “I am very clean alright? Here smell my hair.” he shoves his head into your face.

You let out a strangled noise and try to push him away. “Okay, okay!”

“No smell it,” he keeps his hair up in your face, it’s tickling your nose. “smells like mangos right.”

Admitedly, he's right. It smells like mangos.

“Yes it does,” you squeak out. “now please respect my personal bubble.” you spread your arms out and create an imaginary bubble between you two. He tries to tug at your arm but you bellow in a robot voice. “PERSONAL BUBBLE PERSONAL BUBBLE.”

“Fine, fine.” he falls back onto your bed again, laughing. “Lets watch something.”

You follow suit and tug your laptop into your lap.

“Hold on,” you get up and close your window, it was starting to get too cold.

You shimmy under your covers and pull up Netflix.

“Scary movie?” you click on the horror section.

“Sure but you probably won’t be able to sleep.” he teases and you roll your eyes.

“That was years ago.” you start to scroll through the movies.

“Mhm, and I’m never letting you live it down.” he says with pride.

During freshman year the gang decided to go to Jay’s house to watch It together and it freaked you out so much that you went to sleep in the boys room rather than the guest room.

You click on Hush, a movie you’ve been avoiding because it’s about one of your biggest fears, a home invasion.

“I thought you hated this movie.” Jake says, crossing his arms. “I do, but I need to face my fears eventually right?” you click on it and get up to turn the lights off.

Jake soon gets under the covers as well. You both cringe and slap each other every time your feet touch.

“Yo yo yo yo watch out!” Jake whispers and pulls his hood over his head, something you both do when you’re nervous. You weren’t wearing a hoodie so you settled with a spare blanket and draped it over yourself like a cloak.

“Oh shit,” you whisper. “look behind you!” you yell at the main character.

By the end of the movie both of your bodies are stiff and sore from being so tense for two hours straight.

“I thought she was gonna die.” you sigh and you shut your laptop.

“Nah, they couldn’t kill the main girl.” Jake says, comfy and cuddled up in your duvet. “She was so smart.”

“Yeah she was.” you yawn and then kick Jake in the side. “Go to your bed.”

He groans. “It’s warm here though.”

“Go and I’ll make pancakes tomorrow.” you say.

He perks up and follows your orders.

You relax into your mattress, but you miss his warmth next to you. You ignore that.

Your alarm goes off at 6:30 and Jake sleeps right through it.

“How the hell does he get up in the morning?” you whisper. “Probably Leila.”

He’s sleeping on his side, cuddling a stuffed animal he must’ve stolen from your bed while you were asleep.

You stretch your back before washing up.

Jake’s POV

My serene sleep is interrupted by pokes at my shoulder.

“Get up poop.” she says. I almost forgot that I was at her house. I crack my eyes open to find her crouching next to me.

“Good morning.” I croak out.

“You stole ginger.” she points at the stuffed bunny in my arms.

“I was lonely.” I say before sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

“7:30,” she says holding in a giggle. “go wash up so we can eat.”

“What’s so funny?” I ask her as she walks away. “You’ll see when you look in the mirror.” she says.

My eyes widen. Did she draw a dick on my forehead or something? I thought we swore to never do that.

I scramble to her bathroom to meet some gnarly bedhead. I have no clue how guys have good messy hair, my hair is either boring and flat or just messy.

“Jesus.” I say to myself and try to run my head under the sink.

I brush my teeth and secretly use her facial cleanser.

“So fancy.” I whisper while lathering it up on my face.

I can already hear her voice in my head when I’m drying off saying “don't forget to put lotion on, and face lotion, not body.”

A stack of pancakes is waiting for me in the kitchen, just as she promised.

“Thank you mom.” I say to her before digging in.

She sits across from me with her own plate of flap jacks. She looks so pretty this early in the morning. Her face is fresh and sparkly and her eye bags somehow just make her prettier. It’s cloudy out and I can tell she’s cold she way her body is bundled up in her chair.

I still remember the moment I realized that I liked her. It was seventh grade and we were at our town’s annual fair. She got a bit sick after a ride with a lot of loopdey loops so I stayed behind with her while the rest of the boys continued to go on every ride they pleased. She told me to go with them and that she didn’t want me to miss out but I said that it was fine and that I liked hanging out with her anyway. She smiled her bright smile at me and rested her head on my shoulder for a moment. Then she threw up on my shoes. Like projectile cotton candy, funnel cake, and other miscellaneous fair food vomit. And I didn’t even get that mad, I was more concerned for her. After that I figured I liked her, because if it were Jay I would’ve beat him up.

“Did you have any nightmares?” I ask her and she shakes her head.

“Nah, I dreamt that Sunghoon married a dolphin. It was weird.” she sighs.

I choke on my pancakes. “A dolphin?”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “his name was Jerry.”

“And it was a guy too?” I hold my chest, trying not to choke.

“Don’t judge their interspecies homosexual marriage. It was beautiful.” she laughs and takes a big gulp of water.

I’m almost crying at this point. “Best dream ever. I can’t wait to tell Sunghoon this.”

“No!” her eyes widen. “He’s gonna think I fantasized about it or something.”

“What?” I cock an eyebrow. “Everyone knows that dreams are uncontrollable sometimes.” “Still it’s weird. Imagine if someone told you that I dreamt of you marrying a dolphin. It’s be weird.” she says through a mouth of pancake.

“Did they have kids?” I cackle,

“I don’t know. How would that even work?”

“Maybe they had a surrogate or something.” I suggest.

“Oh god,” she shakes her head, smiling. “we need to stop. I feel like I'm violating him.”

“Alright, alright.”

“Should I wear this shirt or this sweater.” she asks me as we’re getting ready in her room.

“Sweater. It’s probably gonna be cold.” I say while tugging socks on.

“Shit you’re right. Then I won’t be able to wear this dress.” she holds up a little dress that flows out a bit from the waist.

“Bring it anyway and maybe you can wear it for a second so I can take pictures for you.” I suggest and she smiles.

“Good idea.”

We both settle of hoodies and jeans and say goodbye to her parents before hopping in my car.

We get to school right when people start getting on the bus to the airport. We throw our luggage into the bottom carrier and get in line.

“Yo!” I hear a familiar voice call as we get on. “We saved seats for you guys.”

Jay, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Niki have already gotten comfortable in the back of the bus. Niki was already asleep. Y/N couldn’t help but pat his head before settling down next to Jungwon. The bus wasn’t a school one but one of those fancy ones they bring out once a year.

I sit down next to Sunghoon and dap him up.

“What’s up.” I say while putting my backpack down by my feet.

“Tired.” he says. “Valentina kept me up all night.”

I raise an eyebrow and he smirks.

“For real?” I ask and he nods. “No way.”

“Yeah way.” he says and holds up a fist.

I fist bump him and pat him hard on the shoulder.

“You’re a man now Sunghoon.” I congratulate him and he snickers.

“What does that make you then?”

“I’m taking my time alright? I’ll get there eventually.” I say, a little embarrassed.

I look back to check out what she’s doing when we start to drive off. She’s fast asleep with her cheek pressed against Jungwon’s shoulder. He looks like he’s about to dose off too. Cute.

Sunghoon and I watch a couple episodes of Death Note before we arrive at the airport. Sunoo shakes Y/N and Jungwon up.

She’s still groggy as we walk into the airport and grabs onto my arm for leverage. My heart jumps a little. It’s not often that we touch despite how much I think about touching her. I could stare at her back all day. She could ignore me for the rest of my life and I’d still be happy to be in her presence. Mental note to all of you: do NOT let your feelings get to this point.

Soon we’re on the plane and she chooses to sit next me. I silently celebrate. Sunoo and Sungoon behind us, Heeseung and Niki next to us, and Jay and Jungwon in front of us. Sunoo pokes his head over her seat.

“Do you have chapstick I can borrow.” he asks with his blonde hair flopping over his forehead.

She digs into her bag and hands him a small tin of lip balm.

“Thank you!” he says and she nods.

“Are you that tired?” I ask her.

“Mhm,” she sighs and shuts her eyes. “I forgot to drink coffee this morning.”

I put in my AirPods and start to watch Lady Bird. She looks over and takes an AirPods out of my ear.

“I wanna watch too.” she say and puts it in her own.

We take off for the six hour trip and soon Y/N is sound asleep. Her head kept dropping forward so I pushed it up and pulled it to rest on my shoulder. This was not on purpose. I can’t help but snap a picture of her and add it to the good pictures of her album. She looks so peaceful and comfortable and gorgeous. I lay my head on hers for a moment before continuing the movie.

Y/N’s POV

After two hours of unsatisfying sleep, and hour of gossip with Sunoo, and three hours of chit chat with Jake you finally arrive. You sit up and stretch as best as you can in the plane. You pull you backpack onto my back and get you luggage down from the overhead bin. It’s already five p.m. when we get off and your stomach is growling.

We take another bus to the hotel and you can’t help but admire the city life as we drive there.

You’re roomed with two other girls at the hotel but you don’t even bother unpacking. You know you’re gonna be in the boys’ room anyway.

Mrs. Gilroy gave us tonight to do whatever we wanted as long as we were back at the hotel by ten p.m.

You sneak into Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon’s room as soon as you can. And when you get there, it’s already a mess.

“Good lord.” you say as you’re met with clothes all over the floor and mini bottles of liquor on the beds.

“You guys are drunk already?” you scrunch your nose and drop your stuff in a corner of the room.

“No.” Sunghoon says to you lazily with a little smirk on his face. You can’t help but giggle. Sunghoon is pretty adorable when he’s drunk.

“Are you drunk too?” you turn to Jake and he shakes his head. His pink cheeks give him away though. “You’re all bad liars.”

“Lets go swim.” he says excitedly.

“There’s a pool? I didn’t bring a swim suit.” you say, bummed.

“Can we go later, I’m hungry.” Jay says and you agree.

“Me too.”

Jake tugs at your arm. “Come on~ we can order room service or ask Jay to get us something.”

“We can get you guys something.” Sunghoon says, pulling a hoodie over his head.

“Please?” Jake looks at you with shiny eyes. He’s and adorable drunk too.

You purse your lips and sigh. “Fine. But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Just wear shorts and a shirt.” Jake says as he tugs his swim trunks out of his suit case.

“I didn’t bring shorts because you said it was gonna be cold.” you complain, crossing your arms.

“Uhm,” he stops for a moment. “you can wear my boxers then.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Huh?”

“What?” he looks at you. “They’re basically shorts. And they’re clean.”

You hesitate but then comply as always. He tosses you a pair of black Calvins.

You steal one of Jay’s shirts and make your way into the bathroom to change. You’re wearing a simple cotton bralette which should be fine for the pool. You bundle up the rest of your old clothes and stick them behind your backpack before heading out with Jake.

The pool is empty and huge and is only light by the lights inside.

“It’s so cold.” you rub at your arms as Jake sets your towels down at a seat.

“I’m sure the pool is heated.” he says and dips a toe in. “Yeah, it’s warm.” Before you can even reply, he tugs his shirt off and canon balls in. You turn your face to avoid getting splashed.

“How is it?” you call out as he emerges from the water. He shakes his hair around like a dog.

“It’s warm so come in, you look funny standing there.” he teases and you roll your eyes. You kick your sneakers off and try to make a peaceful jump in but you didn’t realize you were in the deep end. It takes you a moment to get your senses together and swim to the surface.

“Why is it deep?” you say, a bit out of breath.

Jake giggles at you. “Remember when we used to play and you were the mermaid and I was the-”

“Turtle companion.” you finish his sentence. “Yes, as clear as day.”

“Why couldn't I be a mermaid too? Why was a I a lame turtle.” he fusses.

“I’m sorry okay?” you laugh. “I was a mean child.”

“Yeah you were. I’ll never forgive you for shoving that clump of dirt in my mouth.”

You burst out laughing, flailing your arms in the water to try to stay afloat. “You deserved it!”

“I did not!” he protests.

“You cheated in handball! It was one hundred percent deserved.” you say, swimming over to him.

“I barely cheated!” he calls out, starting to swim away from you.

“Barely? I would’ve won and been champion of our grade if you hand’t pulled that shit!” you say, still laughing and swimming after him.

“Why are you chasing me?” he says while hopping around the pool where he can touch the ground.

“So I can shove another clump of dirt in your mouth.” you try your best to get him but your heavy cotton shirt is holding you back. You don’t let it stop you though.

You finally get to him and tug his arm. He yells as you push him underwater. He finds the ground though, and shoots up soon after.

“Are you trying to drown me?” he looks at you, astonished but giggly.

“Maybe.” you shrug before tackling him again. It had been a while since you two wrestled like this.

You’ve got him under water for a bit until he finds your rib cage and plunges you in. It’s hard to hold your breath while you’re laughing. You feel around for him and pinch his thigh only semi hard. He lets you go after that.

“I won!” you celebrate with your fists in the air.

“You used pain, that isn't fair.” he rubs at the area that you pinched.

“Don’t be a sore loser. I won fair and square.” you cross your arms. “Fine.” he admits his defeat. “that pinch hurt though, come kiss it better.”

Your face twists. “Nuh uh.” you say plainly.

“Please?” he asks. “I will drown myself right now.” You laugh at him.

“I will do it!” he insists.

“Okay, okay! I’m not to going to kiss your leg you weirdo but I’ll give you a hug.” you float over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I even pinched you lighter than I normally would.”

“I’m sensitive.” he says into your neck and you giggle.

His arms feel so right around your waist and you struggle to decide when to let go, so you just don’t, and neither does he. He holds you decently tight and you feel him pat your back.

You’ve hugged plenty of times before but it felt a little different this time. Probably because you’re pressed up against his bare skin. It makes you feel a bit sheepish.

You pull away from him. “Feel better now?”

He nods with a smile. His cheeks are pink, but this time it’s not from the liquor.

Jake’s POV

I can’t help but feel disappointed when she lets go of me.

I shouldn’t have patted her back that's a dad thing to do.

Her makeup has started to run down her face which makes me giggle.

“What?” she asks.

“Your mascara is making you look crazy.” I say and her hands fly to her face.

“Shit I forgot I had it on.” she attempts to wipe it away but all it does is smear it across her face.

“Here,” I say and float over to her. “I’ll help you.” this was not on purpose.

I hold her face as gently as I can in my hands and rub the runny mascara off with my thumbs. I dip my fingers into the water to get all of the bits off.

I want to kiss her so badly, but I know that I’ll never do it. Sometimes I get irritated at myself for not being able to confess. I think Jay and Sunghoon get irritated about it too.

“You talk about her all the time man just ask her out.”

I don't know why I can’t do it. If she rejects me she’ll do it nicely and things would go back to normal pretty soon. But I don’t think I could live knowing that my feelings would never be reciprocated. Sometimes I get a feeling that she likes me too but I can never be too sure.

“All gone.” I say and she thanks me.

She lets her self float on her back. She has a small smile on her face and she’s so pretty I could cry. There have been multiple times where I nearly cried over how much I like her.

“What are your thinking about?” I ask.

“You know I never know how to answer that.” she bleats. “My mind always goes blank when you ask.”

“Well try to remember what you were thinking about then.”

“Us.” she says plainly. “Us?” I questioned. “What about us?” “I don’t know, just how I met you guys and how happy I am to be friends with you all.” she says.

Oh. She meant all of us.

“Yeah me too.” I agree, trying not to sound down. “Who’s your favorite?”

She snorts. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“Of course you do,” I say. “and it better be me.”

“Why would it be you?” she jeers.

I frown. “Because we met first.”

“I’m kidding, of course you’re my favorite.” she admits.

“And why is that?” I egg her on and she rolls her eyes.

“Because we met first.”

I sigh. “Is that all?”

“Mhm.” she says.

Y/N’s POV

You’re met with InNOut that Sunghoon and Jay got and also a room full of teenage boys. The younger ones were laying on their stomachs on a bed together, watching something on a laptop. Sunghoon and Jay were trying to watch t.v. You say trying because of the furious clicking on the remote.

“What the hell are you guys trying to do?” you and Jake plop onto the one empty bed.

“Trying to find the porn.” Jay grumbles.

“Infront of the children?” you look over at the younger ones.

“They don’t care they’re watching YouTube.” he says, still clicking.

You take a bite of your burger. “You have an endless arena of porn on your phone why do you want the t.v. one?”

“The t.v. makes it special.” Sunghoon says.

“Weird.” you mutter to yourself. “They’re probably gonna make you pay for it too.” Jake chimes in.

“Do you think it’ll go to the school’s credit card or whatever?” Jay asks with wide eyes.

“I don't know but if it does they’ll know it’s from our room.” he says through a full mouth.

You grab pajamas out of your bag and head to the bathroom to shower.

You come out feeling fresh and the younger ones have gone back to their room now.

“My turn,” Jake says, walking into the bathroom.

You sit next to Sunghoon on his bed and start scrolling through your phone.

“Should I get this sweater or this one.” he holds his phone up to you and shows you light blue sweater and a black one.

“Second one.” you say.

“Really?” he questions. “I feel like it’ll make me look emo.”

“You should become emo honestly. It would look good.” you reply and he chuckles.

“You’d have to help me with my eyeliner every morning.”

“Yeah,” you giggle “wait can I do it right now? I wanna see how you’d look.”

“Right now?” he cocks a brow and you nod. “Okay but don’t give me raccoon eyes.”

“I won’t I won’t.” you rush over to your bag and bring your make clutch to the bed.

“Hold still.” you tell him as you give him smokey winged liner.

“It tickles.” he says, trying not to blink too much.

“Beauty is pain.” you clean up the wing with your nail.

In a couple minutes you’re done. “Finished." you say.

“Lemme see.” he grabs a hand mirror from your clutch and holds it up to his face. “Hold on. This looks kinda good.”

“Right?” you had to admit it; he looked gorgeous.

“Why are you so pretty?” Jay says from his bed.

Soon Jake came out of the shower and it was hard to deny how good looking he is especially with his damp hair. How could someone make a t-shirt and sweats look so good? He dumps his laundry by his bag.

“Does Sunghoon have makeup on?” he asks, settling onto his bed.

“Yeah doesn’t it looks nice?” you ask and he agrees.

“Y/N are you gonna sleep here or in your room.” Jay asks.

“I thought I would just sleep on the floor here.” you suggest and he furrows his brows.

“No that’s mean. Share a bed with someone.”

“You should sleep with Jake.” Sunghoon elbows you in the side and you shoot him a dirty look. “We all know he wants you to anyway.”

“Fuck off Sunghoon.” Jake looks over at him with a piercing stare, a contrast to his pink cheeks.

“Is it okay if I do?” you ask him and he nods.

“Yeah for sure.”

Sunghoon snickers.

“I hate you.” Jake scowls.

After a couple hours of watching movies and horsing around it’s nearly midnight and your eyes are getting heavy.

You crawl under the covers and scroll on your phone a bit before trying to sleep. Despite how tired you are it’s hard to sleep with the boys chatting and snickering to each other.

“Can you guys quiet down?” you ask them.

“Sorry.” Jay says.

After maybe an hour of sleep, you feel someone get on the bed. Probably Jake, you think to yourself. His little sighs as he gets comfortable are cute.

“You awake?” he whispers.

“Mm?” you turn on your side to face him. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” he says. The room is dark but the moonlight helps you make out the outline of his face.

‘What’s up?” you ask.

“Nothin.” he says and you giggle.

“Okay weirdo. Go to bed.” you close your eyes, stilling facing him though.

“I’m not tired.” he says.

“Count sheep.”

“That never works for me.” he sighs. “Sing me to sleep.”

You try to slap him in the arm but you end up hitting his face. “Oh shit sorry!”

“Ow!” he whines. “Why do you keep hurting me?”

“It was an accident!” you whisper and rub at his cheek a bit.

“Now I actually deserve a hug.” he pouts and you roll your eyes.

“You are not five years old.”

“I still want the hug.” he says plainly and you sigh.

“Fine.” you scooch over to him and pull him into your chest. You pat his back. “There there. Better now?”

He shakes his head. “It still hurts.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.” you scoff.

“I have no shame when it comes to your affection, you should know that by now.” he smiles.

You feel his arm fall over your waist and his hand slide up your back. It gives you goosebumps.

You’re cuddling with him. You guys are cuddling right now. You think to yourself. No you’re not, you’re just...hugging. Right?

Jake pulls away to look at you. “I need to tell you something.”

“Are you gonna say your mom again?” you ask and he shakes his head.

“No,” he says giggling. “it’s something for real.”

“Okay what is it?”

He takes a sharp inhale. “I like you.” he winces.

Your heart jumps a bit. “I know.”

“What?” he laughs. “You’re very obvious about it.” you chuckle. “Are you rejecting me?” he asks and you shake your head.

“I would never.” you pull him in by the back of neck and push your lips against his.

#enhypen #enhypen jake #ehypen fluff #enhypen Jake fluff #Jake Sim fluff #Kpop fluff

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