#mini fanfic finale

[sleepanonymous]

Something extremely funny and not at all annoying about writing Sleep Token fanfiction is when the fake names you’ve chosen for the Eepy Guys— names that you’ve actually grown fond of and have trained yourself to use when writing so that it comes naturally and you’re no longer accidentally writing the forbidden Real Names™— end up being names shared by less than savory people in this fandom.

I’ve literally never had a writing crisis like this before. Like, I’m half tempted to just ignore it and be like “Do you eepy babes wanna read a oneshot that's almost finished about Vessel and III and attraction panic?” because I’ve been using these names for almost six months now.

[sephirthoughts]

Hi I know this is a ship like no one has ever thought of but I figure it’s not too strange considering the last prompt was for Vincent and Rufus.

Sephiroth and Rufus with the prompts of: 14, 20, 16, or 19. Please I need food here I’m dying and your writing is delicious 🥲

PREPARE THYSELF, ANONNIE, BECAUSE THINE WISH HATH BEEN GRANTED.

I only did #14 things you said after you kissed me, and #20 things you said that i wasn't meant to hear, because it turned into a whole fucking thing. Actually #16 things you said with no space between us is technically in there too. ANYWAY it is a lil angsty and not a necessarily happy ending, which you tumblr masochists are into as i understand it. Enjoyeee

TAGS: rufus x sephiroth, rufiroth? sephirus?, implied mysophobia, implied autism, two stupid 15 year olds kissing, first kisses, first heartbreak (for one of them sry bby)

rating: teen and up

warnings: canon typical violence, blood, explosions, helicopters

When Rufus stepped out of the building, there was a tall, silver-haired young man, waiting by the door of the armored limousine he was to ride in, in the convoy. Rufus looked him up and down, with a critical eye.

So, this was the famous war hero, Sephiroth. He was taller than all the other security personnel, and obviously in top physical condition, but he was also very young. The same age as Rufus, in fact, which did not inspire confidence in the fifteen-year-old young master of the Shinra dynasty.

Sephiroth bowed, as Rufus approached, and waited respectfully, while he got in the car. Then, to Rufus’ astonished annoyance, the boy climbed into the back of the car, too, and sat down in the seat across from his own.

Rufus scowled. “What the hell are you doing? Bodyguards ride up front, with the driver.”

“I prefer to ride here, young master,” Sephiroth replied smoothly. 

“Well, I prefer you not talk back to me!” Rufus retorted, in indignant disbelief. “This is my personal space. Get out of it.”

The other boy didn’t move a muscle. “As long as I am assigned to your detail, I am responsible for your safety, and have scope to operate at my own discretion. I can do my job more efficiently from here, so I will stay where I am.” 

“My father owns you. That means you have to do what I say.”

Green cat-eyes blinked at him. “I’m a person. You can’t own people.”

Rufus snorted with laughter. “You sure are ignorant. My father owns tens of thousands of people. Including every single one of you SOLDIERs. Meaning you.”

“I’m not ignorant, we’re having a philosophical difference of opinion,” Sephiroth returned calmly. “You say your father owns me, and I say I am employed by him. You’ve been taught that everyone who disagrees with you is stupid or inferior. That might make you feel powerful, in the short term, but whoever taught you to think that way wasn’t doing you any favors. Underestimating an opponent is a serious weakness, and your enemies will exploit it.” 

Rufus’ pale cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment at being so flatly (and effectively) contradicted, by someone he considered to be little more than a servant. “You can’t underestimate your enemies if you don’t have any! I’ll crush them all, before they get a chance to come after me!”

The silver head gave an approving nod. “A valid strategy. But how do you identify potential enemies?”

Rufus crossed his arms. “By looking for conflicting interests, obviously.”

“Exactly,” Sephiroth agreed. “Good intel is the most important element of any battlefield operation.”

“Not the most important,” Rufus argued, so engrossed in the conversation, he wasn’t aware that the convoy had departed, and they were already turning onto the freeway. “The most important things are manpower and tech. Without those, you can’t win a war.”

“Mn. True. But let’s say you have an army of fifty-thousand, and they’re equipped with the latest in cybernetic armor. And I have an army of thirty-thousand, with good but standard armor. Who is going to win?”

“I will. I have manpower and tech on my side.”

“But then, suppose my intelligence sector has done the legwork ahead of time, and I have learned of a fatal flaw in your cybernetic armor, that not only disables it, but causes injury to the wearers, making it much easier for my soldiers to incapacitate yours. Now, every one soldier of mine can easily take out two of yours. Who will win, then?”

“That takes away my armor advantage and makes your army effectively sixty-thousand strong,” Rufus frowned. “But that’s not fair! You cheated!”

“There is no fairness in war. Any and all means of achieving victory are valid, including deception and treachery. Because if you don’t win—”

“You die.”

“That’s right.”

Rufus thought for a moment. “But, what if my army had the cybernetic armor, and we went around spreading information about its fatal defect, but the information was false and the armor was sound. Then your troops would waste their efforts trying to incapacitate mine, and they’d be caught off-guard and even easier to deal with. Then I’d win.”

The silver-haired boy nodded approvingly again. “Counterintelligence. Excellent. You’re already thinking like a warrior.”

“Since you are a warrior, by trade, may I ask your opinion on something?” Rufus asked, in a more respectful tone than he’d been using, heretofore. “Do you think that…having an escape route from a fortified location is cowardly?”

“Only if you consider strategic withdrawal cowardly, which it isn’t,” Sephiroth answered, without hesitation. “Dying because you refuse to acknowledge you’ve lost ground isn’t honorable or brave, it’s foolish.”

“That’s what I think,” Rufus said, leaning forward eagerly. “All the great generals in history have used strategic withdrawal as a battlefield tactic, and no one calls them cowards.”

Silver eyebrows went up. “You like history?” 

He looked down at his hands and shrugged. “It’s…useful. To know what people did before and whether it worked. Advancement is built on accumulated knowledge.”

“They say that is what sets humanity apart from the animals.”

“Mn,” Rufus nodded. “Look, I…I’m sorry I called you ignorant, before. My father always says that soldiers are nothing but illiterate grunts, only useful as fuel for the war machine. But that’s not the way you are, at all.”

Sephiroth crossed his arms on his broad chest. “I’m a different kind of soldier than he means, but there are plenty of intelligent and honorable men, who are regular troopers. No human being should be thought of as fuel for a machine. They are, after all, the men that make up your ever so vital manpower.”

Rufus opened his mouth to reply, but several things happened at once. There was a faint whistling sound, and the silver-haired boy’s green pupils contracted to slits. Then something hit Rufus like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of him. 

At the same moment, the car was struck by something metallic and heavy, and there was an explosion of crackling, blue electricity, that knocked the car’s systems offline, including its shield, and made the hair stand up all over Rufus’ body. With the electronics dead, the driver lost control, and the vehicle spun out and began to roll. 

All this happened in a split second, and Rufus had barely had time to realize the object on top of him was the silver-haired boy, when Sephiroth grabbed him around the waist, and with a blinding burst of momentum, rocketed them out the window, smashing right through the glass, just before the vehicle tumbled onto that side. 

A missile screamed through the air and slammed into the exposed undercarriage of the now unshielded vehicle, flipping it all the way upside-down. Rufus felt the heat on his face, as it exploded in a gigantic ball of flames, with a noise like a sonic boom, that made his ears ring.

Sephiroth landed on his feet, thirty meters away and set Rufus down. The EMP and the missile had come from attack choppers—two of them. The rest of the Shinra convoy had been struck, too, and was in chaos and flames all over the highway. A swarm of green-camo painted, armored vehicles came roaring up, cutting off any escape, from both sides. 

“Get behind me!” Sephiroth barked, as his long, silver blade flashed out.  

Rufus ducked obediently behind him, but he knew there was no point. There was a missile coming right at them. There was no way evade it. It would vaporize them both, whether he was behind his bodyguard or not. 

He clenched his teeth in anger and unwillingness. This was not how he’d imagined his last three seconds on this planet—gunned down like a dog by his father’s enemies, a fifteen-year-old virgin, who had never accomplished anything worthwhile in his short life.

Screw that, if he was going to die, he’d look what killed him in the face. He lifted his head, just in time to see a flash of silver, and the twin vapor trails of the missile, which appeared to have been split into two parts, as they went careening wildly into the concrete pylons behind them. 

What the hell had happened? Was the missile defective? I couldn’t have been what it looked like, because what it looked like, was that his bodyguard had sliced it in half with a sword. Which was not possible.

Apparently, that had been their last missile, having used them up attacking the convoy. The helicopter’s mini-gun engaged, instead, spraying the area with bullets, which the silver-haired boy was…well, he was deflecting them with his sword. 

There was no other way to describe it, because that’s what was happening. The blade was moving faster than sight, sparking where they hit, with a strange, staccato clinking, like hail on a glass window.

The other chopper quit harassing the surviving security personnel and barreled toward them, to join the first in pelting the targets with gunfire. 

Sephiroth growled with frustration. He could deal with them on his own, but not simultaneously, and if he left Rufus unguarded to take out one, the other would cut him down in an instant. There was only one way he got out of this with the President’s son alive, and it would require perfect timing.

That opportune moment occurred, when the first chopper’s minigun overheated, and had to cool for a few seconds. Right then, Sephiroth launched his sword, like a thin, silver javelin, at the other, directly puncturing its windscreen, frightening the pilot into veering away, for long enough to grab Rufus, and make a sprint for the overpass bridge. 

Both choppers recovered and a fusillade of hot lead chased his preternaturally swift steps, but it was too late. Bullets peppered the concrete barrier, throwing sprays of grey dust into the air, as the silver-haired boy leapt over the edge, with the President’s son in his arms. 

Partially obstructed by the overpass bridge, the two plummeted toward the undercity and certain death. They were falling too fast for the gunners to sight them, but it would’ve been perfunctory, anyway. There was no surviving a drop from one of the plates.

Wind battered Rufus in the face and tore at his hair as they approached terminal velocity, and kept falling. They fell for so long, he ran out of breath screaming and had to pause to inhale, before he started again. 

This fucking psycho bodyguard! Now, rather than getting shredded by bullets, he was going to be splattered all over some filthy, undercity junkyard. Perfect. His father probably wouldn’t even send people to collect his body!

He clung tightly to Sephiroth, from sheer reflex, as the ground rushed toward them, bracing himself for impact.

Impact that…never came. Instead, Rufus felt the bizarre sensation of weightlessness, as their fall suddenly slowed, in defiance of logic and reason and science. They look the last couple of meters at a gentle drift, and Sephiroth’s black boots touched lightly down in gravelly dirt. 

He set Rufus on his feet, steadying him as he wobbled. “Young master, are you alright? Are you injured?”

Rufus attempted to stop his voice shaking, but found he couldn’t. “I…I don’t think so. How are we…alive?”

“Well, I evaded the gunships by leaping off—ah, you mean the fall. I have a mastered slow-time materia.”

“O—oh,” was all Rufus could say. The other boy was obviously lying, but he didn’t have the bandwidth to care why. 

Sephiroth looked appropriately contrite. “I apologize for frightening you, young master, but it was the only option I had, at the moment. I would have dealt with the assailants, had it just been me, but protecting you is my primary objective.”

“I understand. You did well. So…where are we?” Rufus asked, looking around dazedly, at the mountains of piled debris, nearly as high as skyscrapers. And far, far above that, the titanic plates that made up the vast overcity of Midgar. He had never seen them from below, before.

“We didn’t drift much, so approximately…right below where we fell. Which puts us close to the Sector 7 slums. Those choppers will be along shortly, to sweep the area for our remains. We’d better get under cover quickly.”

It took less than a minute for Sephiroth to find a partially collapsed section of antediluvian aqueduct pipe, which was twice as tall as he was, and had room enough to park a vehicle, to say nothing of sheltering the two boys. 

Once inside, he cast some kind of gravity spell, and drew a pile of debris over the opening, to conceal it. Just then, the thrum of helicopter rotors became faintly audible in the distance. 

Rufus felt a shiver up his spine, and the irrational urge to crouch down, despite already being under cover. There was enough sunlight filtering in through the piled scrap and rust holes in the old pipe, so that he could see fairly well, which made him feel far too visible.

“What are we going to do if they find us?” he whispered to Sephiroth. 

“They won’t,” Sephiroth answered, at normal speaking volume. “They’re only going to do visual recon, for due diligence. They’re confident that we’re dead.”

Sure enough, the roar of the choppers grew louder and louder, till they could see the sun glinting off their black hulls, directly overhead. But just as Sephiroth said, they passed over the area a few times, and then flew away, their ominous thunder fading gradually into the distance.

“Here, take these.”

Rufus looked down to see that Sephiroth had produced a bottle of water and a dry-ration packet from a storage materia somewhere about his person, and was holding them out to him.

“No, thank you,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not—”

“Young master, I insist you take them,” Sephiroth interrupted firmly. “You may be in shock, and depriving your body of calories and hydration at this time could make you very ill.”

Rufus accepted the things, with a disconsolate huff. He was about to unscrew the lid of the bottle, when Sephiroth took him by the shoulders and looked gravely into his face.

“Listen carefully, because I only have time to say this once. My phone was destroyed by the EMP, as I can imagine yours was, as well. We are far from help, with no means of contacting anyone, for the moment. Do not leave this hiding place, and do not move that debris, no matter what. There are all kinds of monsters out here, in the scrap wastes. If I am not conscious by sunset, take my sidearm and run north, till you get to the dirt road. It’ll take you to the slums, due east of here. Do not tell anyone who you are. Just find someone with a phone and call for help. Whatever you do, you must get out of the waste before nightfall. Understood?”

“Wait, what the hell do you mean, if you’re not conscious?” Rufus demanded. “Are you planning to take a nap?”

It was only then that he observed the other boy’s face was deathly pale. Then he noticed the bullet holes in his black pullover and leather coat. And then the blood pooling at his feet. 

“Sephiroth! You—you’re hurt!” he exclaimed, in horror. “Why didn’t you tell me? What do I do? How do I help?”

“The primary objective is your safety. Do exactly as I’ve said. Do not worry about me, I’ll be…I’ll be fine…”

As he spoke those last words, Sephiroth’s voice dissolved into a slurred murmur. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he pitched over. Rufus grabbed for him to catch him, but the boy was over six feet tall and weighed at least two hundred pounds. Resultingly, smaller, slighter Rufus only wound up getting dragged down on top of him.

He scrambled off, in a panic, not wanting to make the injuries worse, and knelt beside his bodyguard. His own white blazer and sweater were splotched all over with crimson, which would have made his skin crawl at any other time, but he couldn’t bother about uncleanliness, at the moment.  

Frantically, he searched Sephiroth’s pockets for a healing materia, but only found that storage materia. There was nothing in it but more water and rations, and a field kit for dressing minor injuries, which he had no idea how to use, anyway. 

Ok, think! He’d heard somewhere that you put pressure on deep wounds, to stop them bleeding. Forcing himself past his bone-deep aversion to touching bodily fluids, he pressed down on the most central holes, as hard as he could, while blood sponged up through Sephiroth’s black pullover and soaked his hands. But it was in vain. Sephiroth had serious wounds in more places than Rufus had hands to press on them. 

Close to panicking, Rufus tried to check for a pulse, but had no idea how to do that, and couldn’t tell if his failure to find one meant he was incompetent, or that there wasn’t one to be found. Sephiroth’s face was paper-white, now, and his chest had stopped moving. He wasn’t breathing. 

“Sephiroth! Sephiroth! No, no, no!” Rufus sobbed, yanking on the lapels of the other boy’s bullet-torn leather coat, as if he could shake him back to life. “Th—that’s an order, SOLDIER! Do you hear me? You’re not allowed to die! You have to protect me, so you can’t die! Sephiroth!! Please, don’t die! Please…please.”

Weighed down by despair, he curled over, pressing his forehead to Sephiroth’s chest, sobbing like a baby, over the body of the boy his own age, who had saved him, at the cost of his own life. 

Men were killed in action all the time. It was just a collateral cost of warfare. He knew this, and had never felt anything one way or another, about it. But seeing it happen, before his eyes, especially to such an obviously special and worthwhile person, felt completely different. 

It was real. It was personal. It was wrong and horrible and tragic and sickening. And it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair! This one belonged to him! Fate had no right to take him away! 

Buoyed up by righteous anger, he forced himself to swallow the bottle of water, like Sephiroth told him, but couldn’t even make himself think about eating the dry ration. He was sick to his stomach and his hands were covered in sticky, drying blood. 

While he was using the rest of his water bottle to try to rinse his hands, he realized that there was less blood on the ground than he'd expected. Only his watery spatters, and the puddle that had been at Sephiroth’s feet when he fell. If he’d stopped bleeding that quickly…then it must be because his heart had stopped. Which meant he was really dead. 

Flatly refusing to accept this, Rufus sat cross-legged beside him, clinging to his gloved hand. Sometimes whispering prayers to the goddess to bring him back, but mostly in silent grief. He never believed the gods had any power to help people, and they were little comfort to him, now.

Only when the sun sank below the unseen horizon, far away, and it began to get really dark, in their tiny hideout, did he move. Heavily and reluctantly, he got up and strapped on Sephiroth’s sidearm, preparing himself to make a run for the dirt road, and hopefully the relative safety of the slums, where there were a lot of people keeping the monsters away.

There were no more excuses to linger. He was as ready as he was going to get, and it was now or never. Rufus knelt down beside his erstwhile bodyguard, to say goodbye. 

“I won’t leave you here,” he said, gently brushing his silver hair out of his face. “I’ll bring people back to get you, as soon as I find some kind of civilization. I—I’m sorry you died for me. I’m so sorry. I know I act like I think I’m royalty, but…it’s all a façade. I’m completely worthless, compared to you. You deserved to live. If I could trade places with you, I would. In a heartbeat.”

In the deep blue of twilight, the boy’s face was painfully beautiful. Overcome with emotion, Rufus leaned down and pressed his lips to Sephiroth’s. A single, soft kiss, to ease the ache of meeting once and parting forever. His tears splashed onto the waxen face. 

“I’ll never forget you, Sephiroth,” he whispered, against his cold, pale lips.

When he drew back, a pair of brilliant-green eyes with catlike slit pupils were looking directly into his. He gave a shout and jumped back, falling flat in the loose rubble, then immediately scrambling back up, to grab hold of the boy’s hand.

“Sephiroth! You’re alive!” His heart was pounding like a war drum, from the sudden jolt, but he couldn’t contain his elation. “You were dead! You bled so much and I couldn’t find your pulse and you weren’t breathing! But you’re alive now! You’re alive!!”

“I wasn’t dead,” Sephiroth said faintly. “I was only…regenerating. I tried to explain.” 

“You sound weak. No, no, let me help you sit up. Good, just lean on me. I’ll get you some water.”

Rufus retrieved another bottle of water from the storage materia and sat with his arm around Sephiroth, watching attentively while he slowly sipped it. 

“I heard your voice, in the dark, calling me back,” Sephiroth said, after he’d drained the contents of the bottle. “I thought I dreamed it. But then I woke up, and you were holding my hand. Talking to me. I was going to tell you that you’re not worthless, and it was both my duty and honor to die for you. But…you kissed me, and I didn’t have a chance.”

Rufus blushed like an apple, but the deep shade of twilight concealed it. “I…uh. I’m sorry. It was just that—” He frowned suddenly and touched his lips. “Did I…bring you back with a kiss? Like a prince in a fairy tale? No, of course not. That’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Sephiroth said, squeezing his hand. “The lifestream runs through all of us. Maybe you gave me some of yours, and it made me stronger. Helped me wake up faster.”

Rufus swallowed hard. “You’re still really weak, though. We could…we could try it again. Just to see if it helps.”

“Right. To…prove the hypothesis,” Sephiroth agreed.

“Hypothesis,” Rufus murmured, wide-eyed and suddenly trembling with nervousness, as they leaned in, so close that he could feel Sephiroth’s warm breath on his cheek. 

Their lips brushed together, timidly at first, then pressing more eagerly. Rufus let his eyes fall closed and his mouth open, tongue sliding forward to caress Sephiroth’s.

His heart pounded in his ears, and his stomach did flips like he was on a roller coaster. His first kiss! Er—well, his first real kiss! It was clumsy and faltering, and neither had any idea what they were doing, but it was also perfect and wonderful and everything he’d ever imagined. He finally understood what all the fuss was about. 

When they drew apart, they were both breathless and flushed with heat, lips wet and kiss-bruised. Rufus still had his arm around Sephiroth’s waist, and Sephiroth had wrapped one of his around Rufus, as well. 

“Sorry if that was weird. I…I never kissed anyone before,” Sephiroth said, shyly lowering his eyes. 

“Neither have I,” Rufus admitted. “It was a little weird, because I always thought my first kiss would be with a girl. But…I’m glad it was you.”

The green cat-eyes came up again, to look into his, slit pupils dilating slowly. “You are?”

Rufus nodded. “Mn. I like you, and you're really handsome. You also saved my life, so we have strong emotional context. Also, you work for my father, and we both know a relationship would never be possible, between us, so there’s no danger of getting too attached, and things becoming messy and complicated later. It can just be what it is.”  

The slit pupils contracted again and Sephiroth seemed to freeze for a millisecond, but he smiled, what appeared to be a soft, placid smile. “Yes. It can just be what it is. We should go, now. The sooner I get you home safe and sound, the better.”

So saying, he hopped up and pulled Rufus to his feet, accepting back his sidearm and materia. When they were ready, he waved his hand, and all the piled up junk covering the entrance to their pipe was blown off, like a pressurized lid. Then they stepped out of their shelter into the labyrinthine canyon of rust and dry-rot and assorted garbage. 

Sephiroth took Rufus by the hand and helped him navigate the small slope, upon which debris was loosely packed and especially treacherous in the dark. Rufus intended to keep holding hands, even after they’d got down, but Sephiroth firmly withdrew his from the other boy’s grasp. 

“No need to be afraid, young master,” he said, in a tone of calm reassurance. “I’m here to protect you. Nothing can harm you, while I’m with you.”

Rufus nodded and followed after him. 

As they picked their way through the debris, his blonde brows knit together, in thought. He should be happy, to have such a strong and valiant protector, who would suffer serious injury for him, and even let Rufus kiss him, all while remaining composed and professional, and taking such care in looking after him.

But…he couldn’t shake the vague feeling that he’d somehow lost something precious. And now that it was gone, it was gone forever.

[luminitewrites]

In a Different Light: Scene One

Time for some actors to sleuth it up :) Here's the first part to the very long Sleuth Jesters!actor AU. Thank you to @naffeclipse for creating the wonderful og series that inspired this and for letting me play with these characters as always 💜 AO3 link has been included in case of reader preference because of the word count, but the full fic will also be below.

Also, I'm aware that in a real world scenario, the cast would not be using their actual names in film. Thankfully, this is not the real world, so for the sake of the story, please suspend your disbelief and imagine that it is completely acceptable and normal for all actors to not use different names unless they choose to lol

Hope you all enjoy!

Rating: T Word Count: ~20,500 (yes, you read that correctly) Content Warnings: Mildly suggestive dialogue Summary: “You’ve caught me. The dastardly plan I’ve been secretly concocting this whole time is just a trap to put you to work. But I hear there’s a reward for those who lend a helping hand.”

You perk up.

“A reward?”

The dark rings in his optics slide over to you sidelong, smug at your interest.

“You’ll see,” he purrs.

~~~

“So let me get this straight. You’re actually afraid of children?” you ask around a mouthful of sandwich one early December afternoon between shoots.

The lunch rush is always chaotic and a whirlwind, but you’ve managed to snag a table with Sun and Moon to take a breather outside in the food tent, regardless of the cold. You’re scarfing down your meal, an unhealthy habit you’ve picked up in your career, but luckily, your friends don’t mind it too much. Moon does nudge your water bottle closer to you in a very unsubtle hint. You accept it with a roll of your eyes but obediently pause in your munching to take a sip and wash down the bite of grilled chicken and focaccia.

Sun scoffs and points a finger at you.

“Okay, first of all, rude. Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Another finger is held up. “And second of all, I wouldn’t say that—”

“Terrified would be a better word,” Moon chimes in, earning an unamused glare from his brother. He grins back unrepentantly. “Sun’s always been a little twitchy around the ankle biters.”

“That’s just not at all true!”

You hide your own grin when you pick back up your sandwich. It does little to conceal the sound of your stifled tittering or the slight shake of your shoulders. The exasperation on Sun’s faceplate is enough to have you nearly choking on your next bite.

“I’m just not made for children, that’s all!” he adamantly protests, gesticulating with his arms and splaying them wide. “It’s not that I don’t like them. But sometimes when I look at a child, they just start crying. For no reason! I don’t know how I’m supposed to handle that, and I doubt you do either. Did you see how the producer’s little girl reacted when she saw me the other day?”

“Sun, you were covered in fake blood from the take we’d just finished.” Moon shakes his head, chuckling. “She wasn’t scared of you.”

“Hmph. Could’ve fooled me! Regardless, I’m relieved that they’ve decided to not film any scenes of us as,” Sun shudders, “daycare attendants.”

You tsk and lift a brow. Sun narrows his sights on you, and you swallow your food this time before speaking.

“Don’t rule it out just yet. The director might choose to include some backstory after all.”

His yellow finger is menacingly jabbed your way again in warning.

“It wasn’t in the script, so I refuse to hear out any such nonsense. The point still stands that I am not and never have been qualified to be a caretaker and thus should never be put in charge of any children.”

Considering Sun’s track record of handling kids, you can’t quite fault him for thinking that, but you’re not so ready to agree either. You’ve seen his interactions with Gregory, and he’s been just fine. Before you can say as such, someone else joins the conversation.

“I’ll drink to that,” the new voice smoothly cuts in, and all three of you turn.

Within the split second that it takes for your brain to register what you’re seeing, your hand flies to your mouth to stop the sound that wants to tumble out. Sun and Moon, however, have no qualms bursting into bright peals of laughter.

“Eclipse,” you gasp behind your fingers, fighting back the strong urge to join the hooligans howling next to you, “what happened to your clothes?”

Said animatronic stands at the end of your table with a grimace, adorned in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that are both unquestionably three sizes too small. You lean back to peer under the table and get a full view, and sure enough, his pants barely reach mid-calf, made all the more comical by the sandals on his feet and the socks he’s pulled up to cover everything else. The sleeves of his hoodie barely extend past his elbows, and it’s more like a crop top than anything else. Were it not for how tightly the poor fabric was constricted across his broad frame, the loungewear would appear comfortable. In fact, you recognize it as the brand he and occasionally his brothers prefer to wear outside of shoots.

The absurdly tall animatronic heaves a deep, annoyed sigh.

“It would seem that someone—though I’m certain it couldn’t possibly be anyone at this table—snuck into my trailer while I was showering and switched out all of my clothes for these much smaller sizes. It’s strange, but they almost seem like they’d fit Sunny and Moonie perfectly. Isn’t that odd?”

Sun somehow manages to snort despite not even having a nose. His whistle-like snickering is not at all subdued, but he does attempt to fight through it to scrape together a response.

“Yes, how very odd. Can’t imagine who’d pull such a terrible prank.”

“You look like you were shoved inside of a dryer,” Moon cackles.

“Be nice!” You tut and playfully swat his arm but lose the war in reeling back your own chuckling. “He clearly just rolled out of bed.”

Unimpressed by the table’s amusement at his expense, Eclipse glowers with a deadpan expression. He tries to cross his arms but swiftly realizes he can’t when the fabric strains at the slightest pull and gives a heinous ripping sound in response. His arms drop back uselessly at his sides as he sighs with defeat etched onto his faceplate, sending Sun, Moon, and now you into another side-splitting round of laughter.

“I want my clothes back,” the metallic storm cloud snarls.

“Personally, I think you should act in the next scene like this,” you remark as soon as you can catch your breath. There might be tears in your eyes. “What are we filming tonight again? The car stunt?”

“Oh, that’ll be perfect,” Sun agrees, optics forming white crescents with his cheeky grin. “What’s more menacing than an animatronic leaning out of a car window during a high-speed chase in his pajamas?”

“Do not assume that I am above strangling all of you,” Eclipse growls.

Moon nods and offers a slow, sarcastic clap.

“Perfect, just like that. You’ve already got the brooding down beautifully.”

Even as you laugh and shake your head, you reach over and pat Eclipse’s arm sympathetically.

“There, there. I’m sure if we go raid their trailers now, we can find your missing clothes. Let’s go get you out of those pants and hoodie.”

In a flash, Eclipse’s grimace transitions into a small but ruthlessly vicious smile. His sun rays create a draft from how fast they spin just as you realize your mistake.

“Oh?” he purrs. “Are you offering to help?”

You sigh, trying to ignore the unwanted warmth that tries to fill your cheeks as you get to your feet.

“Easy there, buddy. Save practicing your mob boss lines for later.”

“Who’s practicing?” His smirk is far too cocky for someone dressed in socks and sandals, so you just focus on picking up the trash from your lunch and tossing it in the nearby garbage can.

“What do you two have on your schedule after lunch?” you ask the other celestial brothers.

Moon turns so that he can see you.

“Presumably, we’ll be back to shooting the precinct scene with Cafaro. So that’ll take up most of the day.”

“Okay, then I’ll probably see you boys around six. And after we’re done with the car takes, maybe we could leave together?”

Sun chuckles, resting the bottom of his faceplate on the palm of his hand.

“Planning another sleepover?”

You hum and artfully brush a hand through your ponytail, your costume’s bells ringing.

“I just like to be committed to my craft. I’m stepping into character so that I’ll be extra prepared for my role tomorrow.”

“And you wonder why our coworkers spread scurrilous rumors about us,” Eclipse sighs. Nonetheless, his smile is warm. “I’ll make sure to cook something tasty just for you. What type of cuisine would you like? Thai? Indian? Italian?”

Your mouth almost salivates just at the offer alone, well-acquainted with the animatronic’s cooking. You nod eagerly.

“Yes to all of the above.”

Eclipse’s laugh is just as pleasant as his grin. You gleefully accept his large arm around your shoulders as he steers you away to the trailers outside, though it’s more so a graze of his fingers along your shoulder blade since he’s so damn tall. Glancing back, you wave to Sun and Moon, beaming at the returned gestures from them both.

Your friendship with the three brothers began mere months ago at the start of filming, and you would be amazed at how quickly it had snowballed from there were it not for how well the four of you had clicked from the beginning. Sun, Moon, and Eclipse are just fun to be around, and you love spending as much time as you can with all of them, even off sets. It started out as taking your lunch to their trailers, which led to hanging out after work hours and then ultimately spending the night at each other’s homes. You live farther away from the filming location than the brothers do, though, so more often than not, you find yourself sleeping in their guest bedroom.

As a result, you should have expected the rumors. But that doesn’t stop the whispers at your back from leaving you uneasy and feeling a bit guilty at how it’s reflected onto your new friends. The brothers have insisted that they don’t mind, sometimes even playing and feeding into those rumors just to tease back your coworkers while getting some of the jokes’ attention off of you and onto them instead. But at the end of the day, you know that your group of friends is just that.

Just friends.

Mind you, you’re all very close. Friends let you fall asleep on them and hold you so you won’t stir, right? Granted, none of your other friends have ever been that close to you, but you’ll just chalk it up to seeing the celestial animatronics almost every day, all day long. You were bound to get close to them.

Of the three, the one you actually see the least is Eclipse. That’s due to his side gig—more of a hobby than anything. On Tuesday and Thursday mornings, he teaches an acting class at the city’s university. It’s why you didn’t see him earlier today, and he often catches a quick shower here at the studio zone after his class rather than driving home. You’re dying to sneak into one of his classes someday, but he’s threatened that if you do decide to sit in, he’ll make sure to call you to the front to act out at least one demonstration.

You have no shyness about your acting ability, of course, but having to do so first thing in the morning when you’d much rather have a reprieve from it doesn’t sound like your idea of a fun time. And knowing Eclipse, he’d find some way to tease you about it too. He might be the polar opposite to the villainous role he stars in, but there is no doubt that that mischievous-bordering-on-malicious streak still runs deep in his wires. He loves getting the upper hand whenever he can, and you honestly can’t tell if he got that from Sun and Moon or if it’s been written into his code from the start.

Maybe having younger siblings just does that to a person. Today’s case of the missing clothes is by no means the first prank that’s been pulled.

You don’t realize how lost in thought you are until Eclipse’s voice pulls you from it with a jolt.

“I suspect my younger brothers have been up to no good in all that time they’ve been spending with you.”

You aim a sharp smile up at him.

“Jealous?”

Eclipse looks at you. His teeth seem especially pointed in this light.

“Of course. Who wouldn’t be in their position?”

At that, you snort.

“They do have their own fan club, or so I’ve seen on social media.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed the hub of enthusiasm surrounding them. But I meant that anyone would be jealous of those who get to spend time with you, my dear.”

You trip over something—yourself, maybe—and Eclipse helpfully rights you back on your feet. A cough is hastily suppressed in your fist.

“That’s… You know what I’ve told you about calling me that.”

“Hmm?” Eclipse keeps his focus on the rows of trailers he guides you towards, but he doesn’t need to be facing you for you to know he’s entertained. His fingertips nimbly rub your upper back in distracting circles. “You mean the very same endearment I’ve heard my brothers calling you, in addition to all of the other pet names? I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. Any possible mention of it has been scrapped from my memory banks.”

You squint, suspicious.

“How very convenient.”

“I’d say so. Unlike this unsightly prank my brothers have pulled on me.” He sighs. “At least there’s one silver lining.”

He reaches Moon’s trailer first with you in tow. Eclipse steps onto the stairs leading up to it, his hand settling on the door handle, and you pause to put your hands on your hips, not sure if he’s setting you up for a punchline. It wouldn’t be the first time nor the last.

“And that is?”

Elongated rays slowly spin like a gentle wave, catching the afternoon sun and casting a prismatic reflection of color across the white trailer. Eclipse’s head tilts just enough to cast a sly, low-lidded glance over his shoulder. The sun doesn’t brighten the burnt shadow of his faceplate.

“It’s now my turn to spend time alone with you.”

He throws open the door, stepping into the trailer, and you’re thankful his back is to you as you’re not so sure your surprise is invisible on your face. A bit stunned, you stumble inside after him. As soon as the door slams shut behind you, the small interior becomes significantly tighter with the towering frame of Eclipse right next to you.

“Now.” He rubs his hands together, ringed pupils scanning the room. “Let's see what stolen goods my brothers have got in their closets.”

~~~

“Alright, that’s a wrap!”

With those shouted words, the formerly quiet room is bustling with life and activity, and you begin to stir from your cozy nest. You rub your cheek against soft cotton, and the arms curled around you loosen as you stretch out your legs with a groan. A hand cards through your hair, silicone and metal sinking past your strands to gently ghost along the back of your neck. It’s just what you need to sink bonelessly back into a ball and rest your head on the other’s shoulder.

Sun, whose lap you’re currently invading, doesn’t give you the chance to fall right back into blissful sleep. His voice sounds like it comes from underwater.

“Come on, precious. It’s time to go home.”

You mumble something that neither he nor you really catch, but Sun must understand it well enough because you think he chuckles.

He continues to prod you, mentioning something about “Clip” and “promise” and “food,” the latter of which you aren’t coherent enough to really understand the context behind since your mind is sluggishly caught in a half-awake state, but your stomach considers it a tempting offer anyways since it growls unpleasantly. As much as it protests its emptiness, you’re just so comfortable resting like this against Sun, and sleep is not too far of a leap away. If you could just let your weary eyes rest for a few more minutes…

You tilt your head into the crook of Sun’s neck, mindful of his shrunken rays, and hear his amused sigh. Someone calls your name, someone who’s not Sun, but you’re already too busy tipping into the darkness to know who it is.

Sleep doesn’t fully creep upon you. There’s quiet conversation happening directly over your head, and if you tried to listen, you’d be able to make out the words. But you’re caught up in your not-quite-sleep, and Sun is cradling you like a baby. You’ve decided his lap is better than any bed and his costume’s coat is better than any blanket. All you need is a kiss on the forehead to wish you sweet dreams, and you’ll be set.

But whoever is chatting with Sun must convince him that your position isn’t actually heaven-sent after all. You utter a rather unhappy noise when Sun jostles you as he stands. Mercifully, he keeps his arms tucked around you so you don’t have to move.

“Adorable. They’re completely tuckered out.”

You recognize the gravelly voice of Moon and debate opening your eyes. But then Sun starts walking, and really, his smooth gait has no business being this soothing. You feel like you’re being gently rocked, coaxed into a heavier warmth that tugs you down. It’s almost enough to ward off the sudden, unexpected cold snap that bristles at your bare cheeks and nose when he carries you outside. You whine plaintively at the offense, and you think you feel a light tap on the top of your skull.

“Almost there,” Sun reassures.

You don’t particularly care where “there” is as long as it’s not out in the cold. A shiver ripples through you, which prompts Sun to tuck his coat tighter around your limbs as much as he can. Even as disgruntled as you are, you can appreciate how his pace quickens. Soon enough, he pauses, the sound of a door squeaks open, and you are ushered into a new warm interior.

The light washing over you is a dull amber and just bright enough that you finally have to admit defeat and stir.

After a few slow blinks, you realize that Sun has brought you to your trailer. Further away, Moon rifles through your wardrobe. Not an inherently strange thing for him to do, but you doubt he’d find anything of value in there. You sincerely hope you aren’t about to experience a secondhand version of the prank they pulled on Eclipse.

Sun brings you over to a lofty chair that’s lined with pillows. As soon as he attempts to put you down, you latch onto his shirt with a firmly unhappy groan, prompting a chortle from your personal carrier.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the extra loving, doll, but you need to let go if we’re going to get you home.”

“Says who?” you mumble into his shirt collar.

You’re not letting him get away that easily. You’ve made your bed, and now you’re not leaving him.

Maybe it’s your exhaustion, maybe it’s how Sun is cradling you, maybe it’s something else. But one moment you’re sleepily clinging onto him and the next, your brain is conjuring a meaningless daydream out of your control.

Some small, throwaway thought, there and gone in a blink, depicts an image of you and Sun lying in bed together, sheets loosely draped over your waists and sleepwear slightly ridden up. You’re wrapped in each other’s arms, so close that there’s little room left to keep you from guessing. Sun’s gaze is heavily-lidded, but there’s no question of where it falls when your lips are slightly parted from uneven breaths.

It’s over as fast as it came. Slammed right back into the present, you stagger at the image that is now gone. You’re not at all sure of where that came from, but it’s certainly enough to pop your eyes open wide and lock every inch of you in place. Both of your hands cinch Sun’s shirt tight in their grasp. A hot flush overcomes your face, and pressed this close to him, you’re able to hear his very muffled sound of confusion at your stiffness.

You’ve kissed Sun before. Actually, it’s become quite the running joke that you’ve made your rounds with all of the celestial brothers. But that’s different because you’ve always been acting during those kisses. The whole chance of intimacy gets thrown out the window when there’s dozens of people watching and film crews demanding slight repositioning for a better lighting angle and rehearsed lines being your only swapped dialogue with whomever you’re smooching. Nothing about it is personal, so it’s never quite held any meaning. Just business, as usual, with maybe an occasional flash of embarrassment or… something.

But the thought in your head wasn’t related to that at all. You’d know because the bed you’d imagined, regardless of how brief it’d appeared, was Sun’s. As in his bed in his bedroom in his home.

Did anyone ever install a freezer in your trailer? You sure would love to stick your head in one right about now.

“Honeydew, are you feeling alright? You’re looking a little flushed.”

Sun’s warm palm rests atop your equally warm forehead. While endearing, his worry for your sake just makes you even more flustered. It sets you to squirming in his arms, but now that you’ve unintentionally unleashed the unlicensed doctor in Sun, he’s not so eager to put you down. His one arm holding you up tightens just enough to make sure you don’t accidentally slip and fall the decent distance to the floor. That doesn’t mean you don’t try your best though to do just that.

“Hmm, no fever, at least not one I can read from your skin.” His frown deepens. “Open your mouth and lift up your tongue.”

And there’s your cue to draw the line and jump ship.

“Sun, I am not letting you put your fingers in my mouth to take my temperature.”

“But you might be sick!” he exclaims.

You bat away the hand that’s too close to your lips for your liking. That garners an exasperated tut from the animatronic, but you are determined to die on this hill. Otherwise, you know you’ll die from supreme humiliation if Sun jams his bulky metal joints in your mouth.

“I’m not sick. And even if I was, shoving your unsanitary fist under my tongue won’t do my health any wonders.”

“I wouldn’t put my whole fist in there,” Sun says dryly, but he’s got a suspicious gleam that suggests he’s sincerely contemplating it. “It wouldn’t fit.”

“Wow. So glad to know that’s the reason why.”

Sun starts to say something, but he’s abruptly cut off by a pair of pants. A shirt and hoodie then follow, all three articles of clothing dangling down his faceplate from where they’re caught on his sun rays.

“Found something for you to change into,” Moon says, coming into view. He doesn’t spare his brother’s grumbling any mind and quirks a brow at you. “Where are your socks and underwear?”

It’s such a bizarre question coming out of left field, you can’t help but be enthralled at its absurdity.

“Sorry, my what now? Why do you need to know that?”

Moon’s head tilts. One side then the other.

“Well, what else am I going to wear?”

“Oh, you little— C’mere!”

His reedy snickering flutters while he hastily dodges out of reach of your lunge, so you snatch your pants from where Sun’s prying them off his head and throw them in Moon’s general direction. You can tell from the faint thud that you miss, but you’ll get him back later.

“I’d say that’s far from appropriate,” Sun groans as he drops the rest of your clothes on the chair behind you, “but Moon lost all sense of propriety years ago. I’m afraid you’ll have to accept my apology on his behalf.”

You hold onto Sun’s arms as he dips down low to set you on your feet.

“Pfft, you didn’t even apo—”

“Great! Glad that’s settled.” Sun pats you on the head, twists free of your grip, and dances out of range. Baffled, you watch him hook an arm around Moon’s scrawny metal neck—his brother releasing a staticky squawk of surprise—and drag him towards the door of the trailer despite his brother’s aggravated attempts to free himself. Sun acts like the fisted blows to his chest are little more than gentle taps. “We’re gonna run over to our trailer to get changed too and then meet you back outside when you’re ready. Don’t forget a bag of toiletries this time, m’kay? I only have so much spare toothpaste to share, you know.”

He all but throws his brother out the door, and you hardly manage to shake your extreme puzzlement in time to catch up. Moon is snarling all sorts of death threats and other things one would expect to hear from their sibling. You pay that no mind as you scramble to grab Sun’s elbow before he can disappear into the night. The frosty winter wind nips at your toes and fingers, consuming the precious warmth of the trailer.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

Sun pauses at your behest and turns to you with a sheepish expression. He tries to cover it up with one of his signature smiles, but it’s rapidly turning crooked. You’ll blame part of that on the near-rabid lunar animatronic hissing Sun’s name in a sinister rattle befitting of a horror movie.

One of Sun’s palms slams into the sneering face of his brother like he’s warding off an omen. He continues to aim that full-throttled charm at you at a thousand watts.

“Waiting!” he exclaims, bright and chipper.

“What am I getting changed for again?” you say, a bit less frantic now that Sun isn’t bolting out the door.

Yellow rays turn in a slow circle like some kind of buffering wheel. The white glow of his optics is overshadowed by the deep blue inside them, but the lack of comprehension is crystal clear. Sun takes a long second to process your question while you stand there, just as perplexed.

Finally, he blinks, and his smile softens.

“You can’t quite have a sleepover in work clothes now, can you?”

A sleepover.

It’s your turn to blink right back at him, and maybe the lack of sleep has really started to get to you because you don’t immediately understand what he’s saying. There’s just empty static in your brain right now. Maybe you need that dinner more than you realize.

Oh! The dinner!

You press a hand to the bridge of your nose and rub hard as it clicks. Right, of course. Eclipse promised to cook for you, and you kind of invited yourself over to spend the night, and the brothers gladly accepted. Was that just several hours ago? You feel like you’ve spent an eternity on set.

A light tug on your sleeve brings your hand down. Sun pinches the fabric between two fingers with an amused regard.

“And I can’t imagine the costume design team would appreciate you running off the premises with your star outfit. Granted, they have doubles and probably even triples of everything, but you want to get out of those clothes, yes?”

Your shoulders sag, and Sun lets go of your sleeve.

“I hadn’t even noticed, to be honest.”

“We can tell!” His jovial words do nothing other than seal your face into a flat expression. Sun acts like he doesn’t notice at all. “That’s why you’ve got two prime escorts to help you get your bearings straight. We’re just making sure you get everything you need before heading home.”

You very carefully don’t point out that he’s inadvertently referred to his home as yours. It was probably just a mistake.

Still, it does make your lips tilt up a smidge.

“Just two escorts?”

In the midst of your talk, Moon manages to grouchily calm down and slap his brother’s hand off of his face. Sun’s head swivels, and you can tell there’s a whole discussion being conveyed in just the shared glaring between the two. Moon endures it for all of three seconds before fixing his gaze—less homicidal—on you.

“Clip got the okay to leave early quite some time ago,” he grunts. “He wanted to get started on making dinner.”

In a flash, you feel guilty.

“Oh, I hadn’t realized. He doesn’t need to do that, really! I don’t want him to have to do any extra work just for me. Actually, I’d be fine with just some fast food.”

“Don’t tell him that.” Moon’s thin smile is just visible in the low amber light. “He’ll pitch a fit. You know he likes cooking for you.”

“And,” Sun adds, “we’d be terrible hosts if we let you fill up on food with no personality to it. You can’t beat a home-cooked meal.”

You purse your lips and debate on whether to stay silent. Sun would normally be right about that, but you know he’s only thinking of Eclipse’s cooking. There is a reason you dodge any and all offers for Sun to make you a meal. Talented as the solar animatronic is at many things, being in the kitchen has remained out of his realm of expertise. You’ve got a laundry list of times that you’ve been served blackened, crispy, or unrecognizable food from Sun’s attempts to fill up your belly. He’s got a penchant for putting a stop to your hunger, but not in the way he or you would like.

You make the mistake of making eye contact with Moon, and his knowing, shit-eating grin crawling out of the woodwork presses the gas pedal of your anti-filter to the floor.

“I mean… that depends on the personality being put into it. And whether said cook has a penchant for setting more fires than wanted or needed. And whether the food is actually edible in the end.”

Sun doesn’t turn all the way, but his faceplate tilts just enough that you get treated to a very strong dose of side-eyeing. You didn’t even know his eyes could narrow that much, but you get the message loud and clear.

Huh. Maybe you don’t need to be related to the celestial animatronic brothers in order to share in their telepathic abilities. Or maybe it’s just a result of spending so much time with them.

You clear your throat.

“Anyways, guess I’ll get changed. For the sleepover you definitely still want me to attend. Just in case you forgot.”

Your hands are lightly coaxing Sun out the door. He doesn’t so much as waver.

“You know,” he starts in a way that sounds like the beginning of a villainous monologue, “you’d think that someone who talks so much game wouldn’t be just as terrible at—”

Moon snags Sun’s arm and yanks him hard. Sun stumbles only a few steps, but it’s all the space you need to be able to close your door. Moon winks at you.

“Better pack that extra toothpaste.”

“Trust me,” you laugh, “I know when Sun’s thrown the prank gauntlet.”

“Oh,” hollers the robotic rebuttal over Moon’s shoulder, “you won’t just be getting pranks from me, daffodil! I’m—”

You slam the door shut on what would likely be a very long rant from Sun. The lock slides into place just for good measure, but you know neither of those two would really attempt to barge in on you like that. Your grin is impossible to hide, as is the flighty tittering that fills the room. Luckily, no one is around to witness it. You chuckle to yourself as you grab the clothes Moon picked out for you to get changed into, but with no one to distract you from your thoughts, it’s not long before your face ends up in your hands.

You muffle a short scream.

What was that thought you’d had earlier about you and Sun? Where on earth did it come from? Are you really just that tired, or are you just delusional? Did you hit your head that hard during filming today?

Yes, that’s probably it. You bumped your head, and that rattled your brain, which caused the unwarranted burst of imagination to manifest tonight. Nothing unusual about that, right? And your thoughts just got confused because Sun was the one holding you, Sun was the one caring for you, and for a moment you’d thought…

Thought what, exactly?

That you liked him in a different way? That he liked you… as more than a friend?

What a silly, ridiculous notion. Preposterous, even. You can’t be entertaining such thoughts. It’s far from reality.

As you shed your work clothes, you struggle to swallow. Because you know different. You know that you can tell yourself that you’re just tired or that you just bumped your head, but none of that will magically apply to how often you’ve thought about the brothers as more than friends. Nothing will be able to explain the pain in your chest that’s crept up more and more most nights when you’re alone in your home.

Those kinds of thoughts usually reserve themselves for when you’re in private. Tonight was a fluke. It has to be, and that’s what you firmly tell your guilty conscience. It’s not an issue, so don’t worry about it.

Determined not to lose any more time fretting over it, you forcefully tug on your other clothes.

Once you’re dressed—an outfit that is the definition of comfortable—you fold your white blouse and dark pants then assess yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your hair is still done up in a ponytail from earlier, so with extreme caution, you untie the ribbon and catch the bells before they can slip onto the floor. It would be a shame to see anything happen to them, and though you know there are plenty of spares set aside just for you since it’s a vital part of your costume, you hate to think of damaging the ribbon and bells at all. You love the look and feel of them. But even as you set them atop your folded clothes, you breathe out in relief as your scalp gets a break from the tight pressure of your hair being pulled back for hours.

It’s sure a mess now that it’s hanging down, but you don’t have the energy to bother messing with it now. Out of sight, out of mind is the best practice, you decide, so you pull up your hood and tuck your hair inside.

Next, you tackle the face full of makeup that is put on you every time for filming. You grab a wipe and get as much of it off as you can before reaching for another. You repeat this process a couple of more times and then rinse your face with lukewarm water for good measure. A quick press of a towel and a check in the mirror says that’s good enough.

Sun said to pack an overnight bag, which normally amounts to just the essentials for hygiene and clothes for tomorrow. You don’t feel like overthinking what to bring, much less thinking at all as exhaustion pulls down at your eyelids. In less than a minute, you stuff what you need in a bag, toothpaste included, and tug on a jacket to ward off some of the cold when you have to go back outside. Then you decide to stop moving for a bit and just catch your breath, so you slump into the chair Sun had tried depositing you in earlier and pull out your phone to scroll through your notifications.

Nothing noteworthy catches your eye, but you do smirk at a few posts you find under the hashtag of your series. The marketing team has done wonders in ramping up enthusiasm for this show, and the outpouring of theories and excitement has got you and everyone else in a nervous tizzy. You can only hope your performance meets the public’s expectations. If anything, the detectives and mafia boss will be the stars of the show, as is their right. Hopefully, their talent is what truly steals everyone’s attention. You want only the best for them.

A few minutes trickle by in your mindless scrolling, your brain too tired to respond to messages. You’ll save that aspect of your life for later when you’ve gotten some shuteye. At least with the holidays approaching, you’ll be able to catch up on some rest soon. Just have to push through a couple of more weeks, and then it’ll be break time.

When a cheery knock raps on your door, you put away your phone and push to your feet with a ragged groan and a few popping joints. Your bag and work clothes are snatched up in one hand while the other flips off the lights. After a final, quick check to make sure you didn’t forget anything, you head out the door.

Moon’s slouched against the neighboring trailer, arms crossed with the hood of his winter coat shadowing his faceplate. Sun seems like he hasn’t budged from right outside your doorstep, aside from his much more relaxed getup and the suits draped over his arm from both him and Moon. He’s tapping away on his phone, but both brothers look up at you when you step outside and lock the door. Sun whisks the bundle of clothes out from your arms to add to his pile while he pockets his phone.

“I’ll run these on over for you. Anything you need from there while I’m gone?”

You shake your head and shiver from the cold.

“No, but thanks, Sun. Actually, I don’t mind taking them over myself so you don’t have to.”

“Nonsense. Look at you! You’ve got a stronger pallor than a ghost and are on the verge of becoming one too if you remain out in the cold much longer.”

He ushers you over to Moon, who kindly lifts the edge of his long coat for you to scoot under. Moon tucks you in close, and though it doesn’t provide much warmth overall, it’s still miles better than your thin jacket.

Sun tosses a set of car keys that his brother catches one-handed. He wags a finger at Moon.

“Just to unlock and start it, okay? No eloping on joy rides until I get back.”

Moon watches with you as Sun heads off towards the costume design trailer, and then he peeks down at you pressed up against him like a chick under a hen’s wing.

“Do you think he’d really notice if we took a little five-minute trip?”

“With you behind the wheel? Absolutely, yes. It’s kind of hard to hide a fender bender.”

He scoffs at your smirk, and you both begin to head over to his and Sun’s car.

“Everyone’s always a critic until they’re the one driving. It’d take me at least ten minutes before I risked getting into a wreck.”

You sigh wistfully.

“Someday, I hope to possess the same kind of baseless confidence that you— Ow, hey!”

Metal knuckles mercilessly assault the top of your head in a furious noogie that’s dampened only by your hood. You yelp and squeal at Moon’s ruthless revenge, and he doesn’t let up until you’re sagging against his side and wheezing. Your chest is tight as you gulp down frigid air, but you embrace it all the same as Moon’s low voice joins yours in a gruff chuckle.

“Serves you right,” he taunts.

“Yeah, yeah,” you huff, trying to catch your breath. You can’t argue with him there.

Thankfully, you make it to the car without further tussling. You slide into the backseat with your bag, though Moon does offer for you to sit upfront—an offer you decline because you know how much room he and his brother need for their long legs. Moon proves to be on good behavior tonight because he takes the passenger seat rather than taking the car for a spin against his brother’s wishes. He slips the key into the ignition so that you can warm up, for which you gratefully press your freezing hands to the hot vents.

Sun doesn’t take long to return, but you and Moon grumble at the snap of cold air when he opens the driver’s side door. True to his nature, he ignores the complaining, well used to it at this point, and settles in.

“Music?” he directs at you, finger hovering over the radio.

“Sure,” you reply, breathing on your palms and rubbing them together. Maybe it’ll help you wake up so you’re perkier by the time you arrive at their home.

“Alrighty then, DJ Sun at your service!”

The songs rapidly bleed from one to the next as Sun drives home, the bass pounding with your heart and coaxing you into belting out lyrics right along with him. Moon doesn’t join your loud, occasionally off-tune singing, but you can see him smiling in the mirror and bobbing along to the beat, and that’s all the encouragement you need.

You end up in the middle of the backseat, arms propped up against Sun’s and Moon’s seats during your singing session in a way that’s not entirely legal. But Sun’s driving is something you fully trust, and despite how he furiously drums his fingers on the wheel and tilts his faceplate in your direction during a thunderous chorus that he absolutely nails in his melodic voice, he keeps his focus on his surroundings and maintains a safe speed. By the end of a round of songs, you’re breathless and brimming with joy that vibrates through your bones and makes you feel alive and far away from those nagging thoughts from earlier.

Yeah, you’re nowhere near tired now.

Sun pulls into the parking garage of their apartment, and within a few minutes of scurrying out of the cold and into the building, you’re greeted with a luscious, divine smell as soon as you cross the threshold of the brothers’ home.

Moon takes your bag while Sun takes your jacket, and they both urge you to head on over to the kitchen, from which you can hear slow jazz music playing.

Accustomed to but no less appreciative of their sweet hospitality, you brush off your hood and dutifully make your way to the source of the heavenly scent wafting through the rooms. At the corner of the kitchen, you pause and enjoy for a moment the sight of the busybody prepping something that will surely be as tasteful as it smells. Standing before the electric cooktop in the kitchen island, Eclipse stirs something that makes your mouth water. You can’t see it from here, but the fragrant air almost hooks you right on over to him. The only thing keeping you in place is your want to not disturb him in his cooking.

Steam billows around his hands and faceplate while he works. He’s got a pan on the stove behind him as well as a large one next to the pot he’s currently fixated on. The oven appears to be on as well, and you wonder what he’s making.

Your heart melts maybe just a little, the thoughtfulness threatening to render you to mush.

“Do you plan on standing there all evening, or are you going to come keep me company?” His smooth timbre graces your ears, turning them a bit hot.

You take the hint and walk in, hopping on one of the stools from under the island when he points a spoon at it. Up close now, the savory goodness is maximized. It’s hard to resist bracing youself over the quartz countertop to peer inside the pot, but you know from past experience that you are not immune to a whack from a spatula if you try, so you remain in what’s unofficially become your seat.

Eclipse’s focus doesn’t stray, but his gaze does momentarily flash up to you with a gentle smile.

“Hungry?”

You fold your arms on the countertop and lift a brow.

“Eclipse, when you offered to make me dinner, I don’t think you took into account that I’m just one person.”

You gesture to the various dishes he’s got going on both stovetops. There’s more than enough to feed a whole family.

Dark sun rays glint from the overhead crystal lights as he tilts his head. His mouth thins.

“Our neighbors at the far end of the hall have a family member who’s currently in the hospital,” he says somberly, stirring all the while. “A little boy. The parents have been juggling that as well as taking care of work and their two other children. Sunny, Moonie, and I aren’t too familiar with the family, but we’ve bumped into them enough times to have several friendly chats. The father recently told me about his sick child. I decided to lend a hand where I could, with their permission.”

He nods to the empty Tupperware containers stacked beside him. You give a soft sound of understanding and furrow your brow.

“What happened to the kid? Is it serious?”

“Not entirely sure. I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to press the father for information, especially since it was a rather brief conversation, and he was just getting home. He did tell me that their son isn’t in critical condition at the very least.”

“Oh. I see.” You glance back at the cookware. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You’re not very good in the kitchen by any means, and Eclipse knows this, but that doesn’t mean you’re unwilling to try.

He lowers the heat on one of the knobs and then turns to the pan behind him.

Over his shoulder, he suggests, “Would you mind carrying the food when it’s ready and going over with me to give them their meal? I could always use an extra pair of hands and a pretty face to accompany me.”

You rest your cheek in your hand and hope your face isn’t as flushed as it feels at the compliment.

“I’d be happy to.”

“Good. While you’re in a helpful mood, can you also go open the fridge and take out the glass in the front for me?”

Hopping back off your chair, you slip over to the ridiculously giant fridge that towers over you and pull open the steel doors. Inside, you find what you think Eclipse is requesting, a tall glass filled with a thick and creamy bright yellow mixture, like a smoothie. You pull it out and hold it up to him.

“This one?”

He looks over and then beckons you to him.

“Yes, thank you.”

Nudging the fridge doors shut, you sidle over to him and shift up on your tiptoes when you near to peek around him at the simmering food. Eclipse tuts and shoos you back with a knowing raised brow, and you aren’t in the slightest bit abashed. You do feel a little miffed at your plan being foiled so easily.

“Here you go,” you say, offering him the glass.

Eclipse pauses with the food for a second as he reaches over for something next to him. He then turns and slips a straw right into the cup and nudges it back to you.

“And there you go,” he remarks.

You blink.

“For me?”

“For you.”

Your face breaks into a happy grin, and you immediately take a sip. Eclipse carefully studies your reaction, waiting to see if you approve. The taste is barely on your tongue before your eyes widen, and Eclipse chuckles, having received his answer.

“Oh,” you gasp after swallowing. “That’s amazing! Is it mango?”

The animatronic nods. His pleased face makes you stuff the straw back into your mouth to take another sip.

“Lassi,” he says, a tinge of pride in his words. “I figured you might like it. That was my first time making it though, so let me know if it’s missing something.”

You shake your head.

“It’s literal perfection. How did you make it taste so good? I thought mangoes weren’t in season right now.”

“They aren’t. However, since you’d said you enjoyed the fruit, I had a box of them special ordered and flown in so that I could make the treat for you. If you’d like to take home some of the fruit tomorrow, you’re more than welcome to them.”

You almost drop your glass along with your jaw. Your other hand quickly comes up to keep the precious treat from slipping from your fingers, and you try to play it off as just readjusting your grip on the cup.

Special ordered? Flown in? He did all of that, paid what must have surely been an exorbitant price… because of a passing comment you’d made?

Gobsmacked, you toy with the straw, nibbling on the tip and digesting the casual delivery of his words like he didn’t just verbally shake you down and rattle you so hard your teeth clatter. Or maybe that’s the brain freeze starting to get to you from slurping down your drink on autopilot. Your face must be broadcasting your emotions because Eclipse gets one glimpse of it and then comes to a halt.

“What?”

You don’t answer right away, but your confoundment begins to morph into a perplexed amusement that draws a wry smirk across your lips. The mango flavor bursts on your tongue with every sip, rich and sweet, and after a few more seconds to enjoy the taste, you look up from your drink at the confused animatronic staring at you.

A disbelieving huff tumbles out.

“Are you sure you’re not a mob boss?”

Eclipse doesn’t get your little joke right away, idly drying his hands with a towel while his processor digests the comment. The face journey he goes through is highly entertaining, as is the clarity when he remembers the scene from work that you’re referencing. Once he connects the dots, he grins widely.

“Maybe I am.” He coyly inclines his head in your direction, traces of molten heat just seeping into the shades of hellfire. His words drip with faux satin seduction as he dips a little into character. “But what are you going to do about it, sweetheart?”

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, huh? That’s the game he wants to play?

You pretend to heavily ponder the question. Full head-tilt back, lips pressed in a thin line, intensity matched in the low-lidded leer.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, angel eyes,” you note, fighting back a smile, “but I’m afraid this story doesn’t have a very happy ending for you.”

Eclipse sets aside the towel in his hands and then rests his palm on the countertop. Though he’s not right on your toes, he’s definitely close enough that you could get a crick in your neck from looking him in the eye. His optics betray his delight and teasingly threaten to devour you whole.

Fingers tapping on the island, he whispers, “If you can see how the story ends, then that must mean there’s still room for deviation. How might one as resourceful as me bribe my way into your good graces?”

You trace a finger around the rim of your cup with a speculative noise as if you’re examining a new piece of evidence. You let the silence rest for a little while to let the suspense build, and in that moment, you’re not in the kitchen but back on set, flying loose from the script with your improv. Your secretive tone matches his.

“Well, Mr. Mob Boss, I’m not biased by any means, but I think there might be some room for deliberation from the jury if mango lassis are involved.”

Eclipse’s laughter erupts at that, sonorous and contagious in sound and volume that shatters the flirtatious scene you were spinning with him, and your act falls away as you join right along.

This is exactly what you needed. After all the good times you've shared with the three animatronic brothers who just stumbled into your life as you did theirs, you can’t imagine preferring to go to your empty apartment every night. That might be your home, but there’s no laughter or life, music or singing, friendly teasing or conversation waiting for you. You don’t have anyone waiting up for you when the sun sets or someone lying next to you when it rises.

And you think about how your possessions have slowly started to migrate to the brothers’ apartment, like your favorite pair of sweatpants that you just know one of them stole and hid away here or the spare tube of toothpaste that you know Sun always has on hand for you just in case even though he claims not to. And then there are the dishes and cutlery and incredible, amazing food. Prior to your frequent visits, the kitchen didn’t see quite as much action. On occasion, Eclipse would make something or other for his students—a reward if they excelled on one of his exams or projects—but that still doesn’t compare with the amount of time he spends in the kitchen now. He claims that cooking and baking for you is a delight because it works his processor in a way he doesn’t often have the need to. The science and intrigue behind making something from scratch and having it turn out tasting delicious, even if he can’t taste it himself, excites him.

Now, he claims he just has a good excuse to put that habit to use.

You.

A simple human with a simple life that sometimes strains on the side of too stressful or overworked. Before meeting Moon, Sun, and Eclipse, you didn’t have people fretting over your eating habits or sleeping habits or lack-of-fun habits. Now you do. And you’re not confident about what exactly this bubbling feeling in your chest is whenever you’re around them or thinking of them. You just know that it’s growing more intense every day, like at some point it’ll just pop and spill over.

You have an inkling of what it might be. You’re scared to put a label on it and inevitably find out that they don’t feel the same. Better to keep your emotions to yourself instead of risking ruining the three good things in your life.

Your laughter has died out, but you don’t have to cover it up because Moon enters the kitchen then. He’s got his arms crossed and a wry air about him.

“Doesn’t sound like a whole lot of cooking going on in here,” he says.

Eclipse’s good mood doesn’t sour, but he’s hardly impressed.

“What was the last thing you tried to cook? Rice? In the rice cooker, no less, correct? Remind me how that turned out, Moonie.”

It’s like watching two cats hiss at each other. You shuffle out of the line of fire and reclaim your seat at the island to watch the show, drink in tow.

If there’s one trait Moon shares with Eclipse, it’s that he’s not one to pass on getting the last word in. If he had fur, he’d be bristling right now.

“We both know that’s only because I was putting out the fire Sun set in the microwave.”

From several rooms down, Sun shrilly yells, “Don’t drag my name into arguments I’m not present for!”

You can’t help but ask.

“What happened to the microwave?”

You’re not sure you’re going to get an answer, not with how intensely close to a playful scrap the two animatronics in front of you seem to be. But after a long sigh, Moon breaks eye contact first.

“Aluminum,” he says. “Sun didn’t bother to check if aluminum foil could be put in there.”

“No one bothered to tell me either,” a warm voice warns behind you, and then two hands find your shoulders and begin a wonderfully soothing rub.

You’re being spoiled tonight—not that you’re complaining. If they’re not careful, you might just get used to this kind of royal treatment. Dangerous territory. That doesn’t stop you from sinking into the massage, eyelids slipping shut.

“Made your bed for you, sugar,” Sun adds while his fingers work magic on your poor posture.

“Thanks, Sunny.” You lazily reach up and pat one of his hands. He steals it with one of his own, but you don’t mind. “By the way, since when did it become my bed?”

“Oh, did you want to share mine instead?”

Ah. Yep, dangerous territory indeed. You are suddenly beyond grateful he isn’t facing you. The heat in your face could suffocate a person.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

“I think I’d sooner take my chances with Moon,” you hastily deflect. “Sleeping is kind of his thing.”

Your eyes crack open just enough to see the smug faceplate of the brother in question. However, they pop open much wider when the hand still massaging your shoulder creeps deceptively toward your neck with extremely light pressure.

“Hmm, that’s a shame,” Sun chirps. His fingers shift up onto their tips and spiderweb across the space between your neck and shoulder, causing you to instinctively hunch in on yourself. “I would have offered you only my softest of blankets and plushest of pillows, whereas Moon has a truly deplorable habit of hogging the whole bed if given the chance. But if that’s what you prefer, then who am I to judge? Say, buttercup, you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?”

This time, your nervous tittering is more of a squeak as Sun’s hand curses your skin into breaking out in goosebumps. Your hair stands up at the edge of your scalp when one fingertip traces a teasing line just along your ear.

“Aha, Sunny, wait a second,” you say weakly, glancing to Moon and Eclipse in a silent plea for help.

It takes less than a second for you to figure out you’re on your own. The former soundlessly hops up onto the countertop and gives you a “my hands are tied” shrug that would have more sincerity if it weren’t accompanied by a gleeful expression. The latter is suspiciously engulfed in tending to his dishes. There’s a shadow of a smile just barely visible before Eclipse turns to the oven to check on what’s inside.

“Oho, pulling out the pet names now, are we?” Sun giggles, and it somehow sounds maniacal. He doesn’t have nails, but the very tips of his fingers have just enough of a sharp edge to draw fine circles across your skin with pinpoint dexterity.

You shudder hard when he alternates the ticklish pressure with a light tapping right on the side of your neck, and then an unholy sound lances past your throat at an abrupt squeeze of the tender skin. Everything in you demands your body shrivel up in self-defense, and when you almost fall out of your seat, Sun at last grants you mercy.

He slips both hands around your arms and hoists you back up. You’d thank him for catching you from faceplanting on the floor if he wasn’t the cause behind it. That, and his warbling chuckles do little to amuse you. As he takes the seat next to you, you glower distrustfully at him. He winks right back. It’s hard to maintain an upset face when Sun isn’t even the tallest animatronic of his family yet still has trouble bunching up his gangly limbs under the lip of the countertop.

“No more fooling around in the kitchen,” Eclipse says, pulling something with a garlicky aroma out of the oven. You catch a glimpse of some sort of bread, and your stomach lets out an impatient growl.

Sun is by no means cowed.

“You love me, Clip,” he simpers.

“Regrettably, yes. I’m obligated to as your brother.”

“Aww,” you coo.

“Moonie on the other hand though…”

As if summoned into action, Moon lazily swings his foot wide to connect fully with Eclipse’s side. It makes a dull metal tong sound, and with both hands occupied, Eclipse can do nothing but tank it. He doesn’t bow over or flinch, but he does let out a gravely grunt.

Moon’s eyes meet yours.

“He means to say I’m his favorite.”

With absolutely no sarcasm at all, you nod and say, “Yeah, I can clearly see why.”

As soon as he’s able to, Eclipse shoos Moon off the countertop with a little more force than strictly necessary.

“Alright, out. I’m almost done here, and I don’t need you two fools interfering with the meal.”

“But I thought being jesters was our whole MO.”

“Out.”

Moon begrudgingly slithers away to do his own thing with Sun not too far behind. He pauses to let you know he’ll help you set up the blanket fort after the movie later, to which you eagerly express your enthusiasm. Then you shift in your chair uncertainly.

“Am I banished to the shadow realm too?”

Eclipse shakes his head.

“No, you are a guest in this household and are welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Besides, you’re not nearly as much of a menace as my brothers are. Though I will be employing your services quite soon to carry this food over to the neighbors, so don’t run too far off.”

Both of your brows lift, cheekiness taking front once again.

“Like you could ever chase me away.”

His rays twirl, beautiful dark shades that stand out in the light.

Used to your behavior by now, he simply says, “Maybe chasing is part of the fun.”

Now there’s something you can agree with wholeheartedly. In the acting space, it’s often said that when you play a character, you put a part of yourself into them and leave with a part of them in return. As the vigilante, you don’t deny that the playful chase you partake in with the detectives sets you alight. You revel in the game you play with them, knowing that in the end, the result will be that you will catch them just as much as they will catch you once you’re done running circles around each other. It’s a story you’ve become quite attached to, and you know that the last day of filming will be equal amounts of celebration and sadness when the fun comes to an end.

You guess Eclipse would have a similar mindset. Enjoying the chase, the thrill of the hunt. Playing a character who’s hellbent on it must carry over somewhat. Some of his line deliveries truly do leave you shuddering at the viciousness behind them. You can’t imagine someone more suited for his role.

The straw pokes into your cheek when you take another sip. Smacking your lips, you make sure you’ve got his attention when you answer.

“That all depends on if you’re quick enough to catch me, toots. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve kinda got a mean streak of luck keeping me two steps ahead.” You gesture at yourself. “Comes with the territory, y’know. Vigilante and all that.”

Eclipse reaches for one of the containers next to him and begins spooning large portions of one of the dishes into it.

“My dear, I think you might be conflating real life with the one you indulge on set.” He finishes with one container and then grabs another, this one being filled to the brim with rice that smells unbelievably flavorful. “The difference between myself and the character that I play is that I only give chase if I believe the one I’m chasing wants to be caught.”

Something has shifted in the room. In the tone of the conversation. Unable to put your finger on it, you press on, intrigued.

“And do I? Want to be chased, that is?”

The lid of the container seals shut with a pair of loud snaps. Even while focused on his task, Eclipse’s every action tells you that he is keenly attentive to you and your whereabouts. He moves fluidly without disrupting the strong connection that presses you to your seat in an invisible force.

“You tell me,” he says. Not quiet but soft enough that it still feels like a breath ghosting along your ears.

Maybe investing in a portable freezer to carry around on your person wouldn’t be such a bad idea. You’re starting to get the impression that the hot blush on your face and neck is becoming a permanent fixture, which you really hope isn’t the case. You’re not usually like this, so it doesn’t make sense why tonight you’re so off your game.

It’s almost like this feels like a date. But that’s an absurd thought because you’ve stayed overnight numerous times and raided their kitchen twice as much. Maybe you’re just getting sick after all, like Sun thought. It’s probably not too late to bite the bullet and ask him to check your temperature, humiliation be damned. But you know for a fact it would be twice as embarrassing if it turned out you didn’t have a fever. A bit hard to play off a flushed face when you can’t blame your frail human body’s predisposition to getting sick.

Is he flirting with you? Have they all been flirting with you? You honestly can’t tell. Yes, you’ve been flirting right back with your boys, but that’s different. It’s not real. It’s just for fun. You’re just seeing things that aren’t there because that’s what you want.

At least, you think it is.

You see what Eclipse means about conflating.

You haven’t responded yet, and when it becomes clear that you’re floundering for something intelligible that’s not just a broken string of words, Eclipse releases you from that heavy eye contact. A long exhale whooshes out, like you’d been holding your breath that entire time. Not saying anything seems somehow worse, like an admittance of something you yourself aren’t sure you’re guilty of. But the moment’s passing, up, up, and away, and pretty soon, you just slump in your seat, defeated. At least you have a delicious drink to cool off with, and you spend the next few minutes just sucking on the straw and downing the fruity mixture.

Threads of chatter filter in just around the corner, and you listen to the sounds of Moon and Sun debating on how the construction of this blanket fort should go so that it will rival all the previous ones. They’re competitive in most things, but they always work together to create a cozy nest of pillows and blankets and any plush surface they can find. You’ve often fallen asleep during movie nights because of how relaxing the space is. Sometimes, you’ve been too comfortable to be moved. Other times, you’ve woken to being quietly carried to the guest bedroom. You pretend to still be asleep when that happens because the tenderness with which you’re tucked into bed makes your dreams all the sweeter.

Maybe you should feel guilty for it, but given there’s no real harm in the matter, you let yourself have this. The brush of a fingers across your forehead and the simple squeeze of your hand and the extra layer of warmth from another blanket being securely draped over you are all things you treasure. It doesn’t matter which animatronic carries you to bed either; they all show gentle affection in their own ways.

This is some level of domesticity between friends that must border the line. It’s intimacy in raw form, and you crave it.

Another loud pair of clasps snapping into place bring you back to the present. Eclipse appears to be finishing up packaging everything that will need to be brought over to the neighbors. You have to wonder what they think of the celestial animatronic brothers. It’s been decades since animatronics were deigned sentient and thus deserving of equal rights and privileges. Even with the passage of time, hostility and refusal to accept them as a new race have remained amongst some humans. Those people are slowly becoming the outliers though, and you hope that one day, you won’t have to be so guarded and protective over your friends’ safety. They can undoubtedly take care of themselves, but that doesn’t stop you from worrying.

With as little as you’ve heard about the family Eclipse is preparing a meal for, you can’t develop an opinion so soon. But they sound like people who are just trying to survive through the unfairness of fate, and they hold no ill bearing against your boys. And Eclipse doesn’t just cook for anyone. You would know.

He stacks some containers on top of each other and then nudges a pile over to you.

“Could you carry these for me please? I’m going to get the rest,” he says.

A being made of metal doesn’t need the help of your silly human strength. The fact that he just wants an excuse for your company makes you eager to help regardless.

“Old age catching up with you quick, huh, Clip?” You scoop up the weighty Tupperware with minimal struggle. “You’re lucky you have such a strong partner like me to do all the heavy lifting for you.”

A wheezy sort of synthetic noise leaves the animatronic, and he pulls yet another storage container from the fridge, this one already packed up and ready to go. “You’ve caught me. The dastardly plan I’ve been secretly concocting this whole time is just a trap to put you to work. But I hear there’s a reward for those who lend a helping hand.”

You perk up.

“A reward?”

The dark rings in his optics slide over to you sidelong, smug at your interest.

“You’ll see,” he purrs.

Well, now you have to help him at all costs. He could beg you to carry a body for all you care, and you’d do it just because of how easily he’s hooked you in. The intrigue compels your feet into action, and you’re swiftly by the front door, arms full as you wait for him to hurry up.

Eclipse seems to take his time just for his own amusement. You can’t prove it, but you swear he’s moving slowly on purpose, and you squint at him when he finally emerges with his own containers in tow. Before you can call him out on it, he turns and yells to his brothers that he and you will be back shortly. Twin responses of agreement echo from the family room, and then the tall mass of metal and limbs and too many wicked teeth is at your side and unlocking the door for you.

You wait for Eclipse to take the lead since he knows where to go. Keeping up with his long stride would normally be difficult at a walk, but he pointedly takes smaller steps so you don’t have to jog with the food. He glances at you and frowns.

“You don’t have to carry those if they’re too heavy. I was merely teasing about putting you to work, and I might not have taken into account the weight of all of those combined.”

“Nah,” you say, even holding the food slightly further out of his reach just in case he tries to take them. “Gotta have an excuse for showing up at your neighbors’ door, right? I can’t let you take all the credit.”

Eclipse huffs. “Of course. Far be it from me to take away from your first impression.”

“Exactly.”

You beam at the eyeroll you can just feel from beside you. For all his height and heavy machinery, Eclipse is almost silent as he walks down the apartment corridor. It doesn’t take long at all for him to come to a stop at one of the doors, and one large fist politely knocks.

You can’t hear anything from inside, and the seconds tick on into nearly a minute, but Eclipse remains patient. The muscles in your arms begin to grow fatigued, though you don’t so much as shift the containers. No need to set off the clucking mother hen in Eclipse again.

After a few more moments, soft footsteps near the door. They pause for a moment, and then the apartment door unlocks and swings wide open. A woman stands on the other side. She’s visibly exhausted with a tiredness that drags down her shoulders, but the look in her eyes is one of deep friendliness.

“Eclipse,” she greets warmly, leaning against the door, “Thank you so much for doing this for us. My husband and I are beyond grateful.”

“Think nothing of it,” Eclipse says, inflection no less welcoming than hers. “It was no trouble at all. I was already making dinner anyways and just upped the portion size.”

He then turns to you. “This is Pia. She and her husband, Andrés, have been wonderful neighbors in the short time I’ve known them.”

“I could very much say the same about you,” Pia replies. Weary hazel eyes meet yours.

With your hands full, you can’t wave, so you just settle for a smile.

“Hi,” you say, feeling a bit awkward.

The woman blessedly takes it in stride.

“Hello,” she says back. You notice her pleasant expression doesn’t falter once. “I take it you’re the one Eclipse has been cooking for? He did mention that he was cooking for someone else lately.”

“Yep, that’s me,” you chuckle, and then you give her your name. “I’ve been eating him out of house and home these past few months.”

“They say that like I don’t enjoy cooking for them,” Eclipse whispers loudly to Pia.

She offers a wispy laugh and then seems to notice the armload of food you’re holding.

“Oh, would you like to come inside? Here, let me take those off your hands for you.”

You willingly relinquish the warm Tupperware, and Eclipse voices the same thought you were having.

“Thank you, but we were just stopping by to drop these off. I don’t quite trust my brothers to make sure the kitchen doesn’t burn down while I’m gone.”

“Sounds just like my kids.” She sets the food on a surface just out of sight and then takes the rest from Eclipse to place them on the table as well. “They’re far from grown, but they love trying new things. Sometimes, they get a little too ambitious, if you know what I mean.”

“Of course.” Eclipse pauses like he’s considering his next words. He waits for Pia to finish with arranging the army of containers. Then, a bit lower, he inquires, “And how is your eldest doing? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

A long, drawn out sigh seems to deflate Pia’s entire body, as if she’s barely being held up by more than air and strings. Your heart twists with sympathy. Having no kids of your own, you can’t relate to the pain she must be going through, but you know it must be staggering, dealing with that and raising a family. You suddenly wish there was something more you could do for her, but it’s not your place. Pia doesn’t know you well enough yet, and you don’t want to overstep.

You’re glad Eclipse offered to help this family out. He was right to do so.

While gathering her thoughts, Pia glances to the side, staring further into her home at something out of sight. Her lips tremble, but she doesn’t cry. The hand clinging to the door tightens.

“He’s…” She stops and takes another breath. Once she composes herself, she faces you and Eclipse again. “There aren’t any real updates yet. The doctors have told us his condition is stable, which is reassuring, of course. But… he’s just a child. No one that young should have to be in the hospital battling some stupid infection. So my husband is with him now. Trying to, you know, spend the night there just to make sure he’s not alone. And then tomorrow, hopefully I’ll be able to wrangle up the rest of the kids so we can visit him too.”

Her voice is thick, and her eyes shine wetly. Still, she braves a smile. She is every bit of a strong mother just doing her best to take care of her kids. Something you find more than commendable.

“We’ll be wishing him a speedy recovery,” you softly say, and Eclipse utters a deep hum in agreement. Saying as much feels meaningless in comparison.

The words don’t quite come out audibly from her as she’s too choked up to find her voice just then, but she mouths a thank you.

You shuffle in place uncomfortably. Standing here and taking up her time away from her kids now seems like an intrusion. But Pia lingers still, and you don’t want to leave her on such an empty note. These kinds of situations were never your forte, and you struggle to find something to lighten the mood. You feel powerless and useless.

One of Eclipse’s hands settles on your shoulder. It forces you to relax some of the stiffness in your spine, and in that moment, you’re extremely appreciative of how in tune he is with your emotions. You know you can wear your heart on your sleeve, sometimes to your own detriment, but in this case, the solace is fully wanted. Strange how you’re not even the one going through a crisis, but you still crave support. If anything, the woman before you is a tougher force than you’ll ever be. You hope only good things come her and her family's way.

“I know it’s only a meal, but I hope the food offers some reprieve, however small,” Eclipse murmurs.

Pia shakes her head.

“It’s not small at all. Taking care of children is a full-time job, and you don’t realize just how thin it stretches you until one of them gets hurt or sick.” She rubs one of her arms like warding off a chill. “The best form of help I can receive right now is energy, and you cooking a meal for my family does that in more ways than you know. I’ll be sure to save some for my husband to take to him tomorrow.”

“Hopefully it will be palatable for you all then. Ah, that reminds me.” Eclipse gestures to the stored away food with a tip of his faceplate. “One of the dishes has a little heat to it—the coconut chicken curry. I’m not sure what your and your little ones’ preferences are, so there’s also a salad and some soup if you’d rather have something less spicy. And there is rice and naan to go with the curry, if you’d like.”

“It all sounds and smells delicious, so I know we’ll enjoy it. You’re more than generous.” Pia considers you and him for a brief reprieve, dark eyes darting between the odd pair a human and an animatronic more than twice their size makes. “And I’m sure you’ve gotten to see and taste that firsthand. Are you two…?”

She gives a vague gesture at you and Eclipse.

It takes a second for you to understand, but then you smirk a little crookedly and brush off the question.

“Ah, no, we’re not related. I tried to blend in with his family, but for some reason, no one was buying it. Can’t imagine why. I’ve always said these bones are made of metal.”

You jokingly pat your forearm.

Eclipse stifles some sort of sound from deep in his chassis, and you quirk a brow at him.

“I think what Ms. Pia was trying to ask,” he says, and there’s the dry snark you’ve learned to become so weary of, “is if we’re together as a couple.”

“Oh.”

You look at Pia. She smiles, but her lips are pressed in a thin line, like she’s holding back a small snicker.

“Oh,” you say again because once really wasn’t enough.

Eclipse decides to save the situation for you.

“No, we’re not dating,” he tells the woman, but his voice has a certain cadence to it at the end, like he’s about to say more. But he doesn’t add anything more to that, and you get the intense impression that there’s a whole lot of unsaid conversation happening right now.

“I see,” Pia says, but she does so in a way that suggests she’s seeing a whole lot more than you are. “Well, I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but I really can’t thank you enough for cooking an entire meal for us. It’s just so unexpected but kind. If there’s anything that I can give you in return...”

“No need.” Eclipse’s hand squeezes your shoulder, and you begin to subtly step back along with him, away from the door. “I just hope your son gets well soon. If you ever happen to need another meal, please feel free to let me know. I can’t guarantee I’ll be free every night to cook, but I’ll do what I can to help. Provided my cooking is up to par, I suppose.”

Pia bites her quivering lip like she might burst into tears. Her watery laugh confirms as much, and she sniffles.

“I don’t need to taste it to know that. I should let you get back to your own dinner though. Thank you for everything. And it was nice meeting you,” she says, directing the last part to you.

You and Eclipse wave and bid her farewell and then continue back down the corridor. The click and lock of a door echoes behind you. Alone again, you keep quiet as you walk back to the brothers’ apartment. The patterns in the floor swirl and spin in a vortex while you stare unseeingly at it.

Everything that just transpired plays back in your head. Maybe there was something more you should have said to Pia. Something encouraging. You think your presence there wasn’t of much help at all, but perhaps knowing other people cared enough to check in on her was all you could have really given the woman. You don’t know her or her family, though that doesn’t stop the slight constriction of your heart on their behalf.

Your feet don’t stop until the hand on your shoulder gives another squeeze. It makes you pull back from your thoughts and realize that you are in front of the brothers’ apartment door. Tilting your head a little more up yields Eclipse’s concerned faceplate.

“Everything alright?” he questions.

As if you’re the one who needs help. You don’t have the power to snap your fingers and heal someone, but you wish you could for that little boy. Kids like him should be out playing and having fun and not worrying about breathing.

You shrug.

Since that doesn’t feel good enough, you add, “I’m glad you introduced me to her. She seemed nice.”

His eyes slide away.

“Yes, I thought so too. Both her and her husband seem like good people. I’m hoping that after this mess sorts itself out, we can become friends.”

Like he’s not already well on that road. You’ll bet that his and his brothers’ involvement has already left a lasting impression.

“Just keep feeding them,” you remark goodnaturedly. “That way, you won’t ever be able to get rid of them.”

There’s that familiar grin you’ve come to love. His optics gleam.

“Such high praise,” he trills. “Is that supposed to be a hint that you want your own dinner now?”

A sly shrug.

“It might. But there could be something else I’d also like before then.”

Eclipse crosses his arms, one of his hands tapping his teeth in thought.

“Something else…”

You nod. As an animatronic, he most certainly hasn’t forgotten what he promised you earlier, and you shift on your heels in excitement.

“So,” you chirp, folding your hands behind your back to hide your eagerness for whatever he has in store.

But Eclipse just looks at you.

“Yes?”

You gnaw on your lip. Shuffle your feet. Lift your brows expectantly.

Nothing. Eclipse waits for you to continue. You think he might have not understood what you’re alluding to, but you’ve learned to read the slight differences in his grin. He has a glass-edge sharpness just at the thinnest tips of his mouth. He knows what you’re thinking.

What a cocky bastard. You think he might have some issues with “conflating” too, or however he put it.

Reluctantly, you give in first.

“So what was that you were saying about a reward?”

A hand that could easily be the size of your head rubs at his bottom rays. He feigns confusion.

“A reward? What reward?”

Stepping on his toes wouldn’t hurt him at all. You would know; you’ve tried. But it would be petty at the very least, and you’re sorely tempted.

Instead, you remember something he’d said even earlier.

Unable to bite back a smarmy grin, you retort, “You tell me.”

Elongated rays slowly turn in an idle pattern that you’ve often seen from Sun when he’s thinking about something. It’s cute and a little endearing. You wonder if Eclipse picked it up from his little brother or if it’s the other way around.

When he appears to come to a decision, his rays come back to a stop.

“Follow me,” he says and resumes striding down the hallway.

This time, you widen your own steps to keep up.

Eclipse leads you down one row of apartments and then another, taking a sharp turn until you reach a little lounging area not too far from his place. It’s a public alcove, but no one is around, and a few chairs and a table are pushed against a wall. Impersonal but cozy enough. A window hangs above the single cushioned bench across from the table and chairs. Here, the animatronic stops, staring out at the dark sky from where trails of snowflakes slowly descend. The numerous lights from other buildings illuminate the snow that has already begun to stick to the roads far below.

You stand next to him and admire the view for a few seconds. It’s nice, but this doesn’t seem like the thing Eclipse would want to show you. Not when he has an even better view from the balcony of his apartment.

But you never can be sure when it comes to the tall, brooding animatronic next to you.

So you tentatively say, “You wanted to show me a view of the city?”

A scoff.

Then, “Yes, I absolutely wanted to show you something you’ve seen a thousand times over. No, what I really wanted was to give us some privacy.”

You frown and turn to him.

“You have an apartment—”

“That is shared with my brothers.” He pulls away from the window as well. “Privacy is a little hard to come by when you have younger siblings, and the only space I can completely get away from them is my bedroom. But I felt that taking you there for something like this would seem a little… uncouth.”

“Uncouth.” Both of your brows reach your hairline.

Eclipse looks like he bit a lemon. An incredible feat for someone who can’t even open his mouth.

“Please don’t make it sound weird. I’m trying to take into consideration all of your delicate human sensibilities.”

“I’m making it weird? Not the person who’s apparently bothered by the thought of me seeing their messy bed?”

“What? No, that’s not what I— Actually, yes, let’s just go with that. Forget what I said.”

Your frown deepens, confused at what he could have possibly meant instead, and you open your mouth to question as much, but he hastily continues on, stilted.

“I wanted to give you a reward. But in retrospect, it’s closer to a favor that I’d like to ask of you. So I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable. And you’re more than welcome to say no, of course.”

You’re way past the point of confusion. Eclipse seems incredibly nervous for something that you’d originally thought would be trivial, so you wonder if he really does have a dead body he needs you to hide. Not exactly how you planned out your evening, but you are someone who rolls with the punches. He did make you dinner, so you’ll at least hear out your friend who’s now possibly a convict.

“Must be some hell of a favor,” you say in lieu of just staring blankly.

The animatronic tugs you down onto the bench with him, and you end up sitting facing him with your knees touching his from how much space he takes up. You’d write the act off as him just trying to conceal his nerves, but he seems to actually want you sitting down for whatever reason. He scoots closer to you as he stumbles through his words.

“Yes, well. It’s been on my mind for a while. I considered asking sooner, but I wanted to be sure of where you stood regarding the matter. I’m still not entirely sure, but I believe I’ve read the room right. Or at least I hope I have.”

“Eclipse.”

“Hush, I’m getting there. What I mean to say is—” He reaches down and takes your hands in his. Your hair falls across your shoulders when you tip your head down, blinking, but his voice beckons back your focus. “My brothers and I have grown fond of you. Very fond. You are… someone we treasure greatly. And I hope you don’t need me to say that in order for you to know it.”

Ghostly warmth begins to crawl into your cheeks.

“We’ve all developed our own friendships with you over time,” he continues, “and I know it’s been just several months since we first met. But even in such a small time frame, our feelings and thoughts have all aligned on the same page regarding you. That is to say, we care deeply about you. The way you’ve written yourself so easily into our lives has left a tremendous impact that I’m not so sure you’re quite aware of.”

“I think I’m getting there,” you interject with a tiny smirk.

Eclipse sighs, smiles, and squeezes your hands. “I just wanted to make sure I was upfront about that first. It’s very important to Sunny, Moonie, and I that you know how we feel. I won’t put words into my brothers’ mouths, however, so you’ll have to hear from them themselves about what they think. Now, as for the favor, and I really hope you’ll forgive me for this, but I think the anticipation will kill me if I delay any longer. And I know the end of the year is still weeks away, but waiting until then would be insurmountable.”

He says your name then, so light and soft and airy that your head is in the clouds.

“I was wondering if, as a favor that might be a reward depending on your perspective, would you… help me get a head start on this new year’s tradition?”

Silence.

Your eyes don’t leave his, that bright yellow glow broken only by the dark rings inside.

When you find your voice, you say, slowly, in disbelief, “You want me to help you…?”

He waits for you to continue. When you don’t, he finishes the sentence for you.

“Get a head start on the new year’s tradition, yes.”

More silence.

You narrow your eyes, anticipating a joke, but it never comes. Somehow, after that whole speech, you thought you’d have at least some contextual clues. You’re sitting in place with even more questions, and none of the dots are connecting, none of the lines are intersecting, nothing’s making sense.

Tongue moving even more slowly, the hamster wheels in your brain spinning overtime, you draw out, “So… you want me to help you brainstorm a resolutions list?”

The spans of silence are getting repetitive at this point, but at least it’s Eclipse’s turn to appear utterly baffled. He gapes at you like you’re the one not making any sense, his tension not quite leaving but taking a backseat to make room for… whatever this is. You have no idea, and now for some reason, he doesn’t seem to either.

“Pardon?” he says.

Like a mirror, your confusion reflects onto him, which bounces back onto you. The lack of comprehension is almost funny. But you’re too perplexed to really note that in between the quiet. So you wait a beat, about to repeat your question.

Then Eclipse’s expression evens out as whatever caused the miscommunication finally dawns on him. A little huff escapes, and his grin smooths into a less crooked line.

“Oh dear. No, darling, I don’t need help with a resolutions list. That isn’t what—”

“Well, good,” you can’t help but throw in, “because I’m terrible at keeping to them.”

Eclipse shakes with his mirth, quiet little shudders that make you relax. You give him a moment, and when he releases a big electric sigh, you patiently wait for him to continue.

“That isn’t the tradition I was referring to. I meant that I’d like to get a head start with you on welcoming in the new year… with a kiss.”

The hamster wheels grind to a screeching halt.

You don’t say it, but your mouth drops in a small oh. You forget your hands are currently in his, so when you listlessly try to lift a finger to point at yourself in disbelief, you don’t get very far. He seems to realize what you mean all the same, and he nods.

“Yes,” he further clarifies, which is very needed in your stupefied state. “I want to kiss you.”

Even with the audible confirmation, you still don’t believe what you’re hearing. It just doesn’t make sense to you. None of what he said makes sense to you. You’ve half a mind to believe that your unbridled thoughts from earlier have catapulted you into some insane lucid dream, and even now, you’re trying to understand any of it.

“Eclipse,” you weakly laugh, tensing up again, uneasy. “We’re not on set right now. Where’s the punchline?”

He turns pensive, metal sun rays creating a new draft as his smile melts away.

“No, no joke,” he says, earnest. “No punchline. I know it seems like everyone has made light of our friendship and teased us relentlessly about it all throughout filming. But this isn’t that. I’m not asking if you want to be in a relationship with me so suddenly. I’m asking if I may have your permission to just start on the path toward that, test the waters, so to speak… and maybe see if there’s the smallest chance you find yourself wanting something similar along the way as well.”

You’re not sure why—it could be because you’re afraid to blink at all—but your eyes are beginning to burn. In the time you’ve gotten to know him, you’ve understood that Eclipse is bold about most things, and he has no issue vocalizing his stance if needed. But seeing that in action and having it directed not just at you but for you is another matter. You’re not used to someone caring that much about you. Though he and his brothers have done a fine job in changing that around.

You blink away the irksome mistiness. To your hot frustration, a tear slips past your guard, and Eclipse draws in a wounded artificial respiration.

Before you can frantically wipe it away, he’s already there, catching it for you with a touch that makes your beaten heart lurch even more before he takes your hand again.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, and for the first time compared with the numerous others he’s used that endearment, it feels real and like it’s directed at you without an ounce of make believe. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head. But I have an inclination of what your heart is saying, and I want you to know that those feelings you have, the ones you doubt are true, are entirely wanted and reciprocated. I want you, in whatever way you’ll allow me to have you. Just understand that my desire goes beyond the silly ridicule we’ve heard at work or the harmless banter we’ve exchanged ourselves—though I can see it’s been far from harmless now.”

You don’t dare to breathe. But you keep your ears and eyes open as Eclipse lays out in no uncertain terms what you’ve subconsciously longed for for ages. Another tear falls.

“If it takes more than words to prove my want for more than a friendship with you, then I’ll let my actions do the talking, starting now if that’s something you’re okay with. I’m serious about this, and I need to make sure you believe me when I say this isn’t a joke at your expense. You mean too much to me to be a mere punchline.”

If you didn’t have so much practice from your job, you’re certain you’d be bawling like a baby right now. How many nights have you laid in bed, feeling like you’re missing something? How often have you stared after the three brothers and wondered if you’re getting too close? How often have you told yourself that it’s all in your head, none of it is and never can be real?

And yet, against all odds, what you’ve needed is being handed to you on a silver platter.

You’re not and never will be as articulate as Eclipse, so you draw the card from your deck that’s always been your go-to, and choose a weak stab at levity.

“You know,” you sniffle, “for a guy who usually doesn’t beat around the bush, you sure use a lot of words for a simple request.”

It’s worth it for the flash of combined relief and fake chagrin that you know doesn’t bear any ill will toward you.

“Forgive me,” Eclipse says, mildly deadpan, and you can hear the subdued mirth in response to your remark, “but a certain someone has demonstrated an uncanny amount of obliviousness as of late to my attempts at flirting with them.”

Okay, he’s just going for your throat now. This still doesn’t feel real. You’re expecting that this is just some weird dream that will make you have a crisis when you wake up. So if this really is all in your head, you’d better make the most of it while it lasts.

You contemplate the large hands holding your much smaller pair. In response, Eclipse draws ticklish lines along your palms before smoothing over them with a softer rub.

Your lips try for a smirk but don’t quite get there. His former nervousness must be contagious because now you’ve got it. You want to meet his eye, but it’s making your confidence take a fast hike in the opposite direction.

A swallow. Light clearing of your throat. Mouth opening to speak and then snapping shut once more.

If only you were this talented on set, able to cry so easily. You’re delivering an Oscar-worthy performance right now, except it’s authentic. Eclipse had better be appreciating it because he’s fully responsible and had better accept the repercussions.

Taking a quiet breath, you try once more. Those hands steady you all the while.

You try to say yes. That’s really all you need to do to get the ball rolling.

Instead, what you manage to stutter out is, “I-I think that’s your cue to move in close, pumpkin.”

You want to shove your foot in your mouth. Metaphorically, of course.

One of Eclipse’s hands leaves yours and slides back up to your face. It spans your wet cheek and tilts your head up, seeking your gaze. Just to be more of a hassle and also to ignore the burning embarrassment flaring across your skin, you consider petulantly closing your eyes; the moment you see his, however, you can’t look away. The clash of black against gold robs you of your breath.

Lowly, as if to be sure, Eclipse clarifies, “Is that a yes?”

You hold back another ill-timed quip, eyes brimming with unshed happiness.

“It's a yes.”

Your breath catches when he leans in closer yet. You expect your thoughts to be screaming like they always have been, but it’s just a calm single-mindedness that centers around only the lovely individual seated next to you. That doesn’t mean your stomach isn’t bursting with that fluttering feeling or that your one hand isn’t clinging tighter to his while the other finds purchase in the fabric around his lower thigh.

The night is apparently still young in throwing you for a loop because Eclipse doesn’t completely close the gap. He’s close, so close, unbearably close that if he had lungs, you’d be feeling the smooth caress of his breath across your lips. His expression is nothing less than heated, eyelids falling heavy as he ogles without remorse at your parted mouth like he’s a starved man presented with the finest meal. His palm remains gentle around your cheek, but his fingers press in just the smallest amount to make you dizzy. It’s as if he’s on the verge of a possessive grip and only just holding himself back.

He doesn’t move. Neither do you.

You wonder if maybe he’s forgotten what he was going to do because he’s just so lost in your truly irresistible attractiveness, and the proximity has finally done him in. But you suspect it’s likely not that. The agonizingly slow drag of his leer back up to yours tells a different story.

A flashbulb image of the sight you and he must be making sears through your retinas. This little alcove had better have wards surrounding it, or else you’ll throw hands with anyone who dares to intrude on your private moment.

Eclipse says something. You’re a little lost in thought or maybe just his eyes—a cliché thought for which you immediately give yourself a strong mental kick—so you don’t catch it. Your hair shifts a bit when you tip your head.

“What?”

Nothing on Eclipse’s face suggests what he’s said. There’s a very strong chance it has something to do with you and not the weather, but that’s all you have to work with.

Calmly, he repeats, “A yes to what?”

You stare. The confusion returns, though maybe he’s just making sure he didn’t read the situation or you wrong.

“Yes to what you want to do?” you say, voice tipping up at the end.

Apparently, that’s not good enough.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

And that’s when you realize what he’s doing.

Oh, for—

You manage the flattest expression possible, countering the wretched grin that now eats up your vision. Eclipse beams so brightly that it reaches his optics. There is not a single part of it that is appealing, a fact you have to frantically remind yourself of since your heart is leaping at it like it has a mind of its own. His rays are still, but you can see them twitching hard with the desire to spin.

An aggrieved groan overtakes your throat. Getting up and walking away would mean some victory over Eclipse, but it also would deprive you of your reward, which you really, desperately, unequivocally very much want. He’s got you right where he wants you, and he knows it. At least it’s sobered you up enough that you’re not on the verge of crying more.

Defeat is supposed to taste bitter. You accept it this time with a surprising sweetness settling on your tongue.

With a longsuffering sigh—because your patience truly knows no bounds around him—you say, once more, with feeling, “I want you to kiss me.”

In the greatest twist of events, Eclipse shows you mercy. His grin is no less wicked, but it helps that you find yourself pulled toward it regardless.

“My pleasure,” he says, and with no more hesitance, he removes the gap between you and him and kisses you, achingly gentle and sugar sweet.

On your cheek.

Your mouth hangs open. His dry amusement vibrates through you as he lingers where you had not expected him to go, his smooth mouth grazing your skin in tangible warmth. He nuzzles a little lower then, skirting his sharp grin just below your jawline. As he presses close, his hand holds your other cheek securely so that you can’t help but tilt your head and grant him better access.

Any petulant protest that had been readied on your lips dies. Eclipse hardly does anything but hold you still so that his mouth can lay tender affection on your burning face. It somehow feels even more intimate this way because he is the one bestowing the kiss while you can merely gape ahead at the pointed tips of his rays that he carefully steers away from prodding you. You’re clinging to him with increasing force, drowning from him overriding all your senses until everything within you just sings his name.

When he at last relinquishes the space that had been between you before, you catch your breath again. Metal fingers trail down your cheek and the surely telling heat that radiates from it. Eclipse gives a hum that is highly appreciative and somehow makes you go from hot to scalding. You can’t hide anything from him like this, and he doesn’t seem intent on letting you slip away so easily. Maybe you’re secretly part animatronic too because whatever he just did left your brain feeling utterly fried. You’re little more than a puddle right now, with him being the single entity holding you intact.

His hand continues down until it curls under your chin and nudges your head up a smidge more. Ah, you weren’t meeting his eyes again. His own flare with pride or satisfaction. You try and fail to swallow with a dry throat.

Your voice wavers when you say, “Well… that’s not what I was expecting.”

Metal bends with his intrigue.

“Had you imagined something else?”

You don’t like how he can remain so smooth and unaltered after that. He can deny it all he wants, but he shares more aspects with his character than he thinks.

“Saying I imagined it suggests that I’d thought of it before now. Which I haven’t, just to be clear.”

Liar. You huff and frown. You’d cross your arms if he wasn’t still holding your hand. Or you weren’t holding his. Whatever.

Even sharks have nicer teeth. Eclipse’s eyes narrow with the keenness of a predator, reminding you that you are very alone with him. Suddenly, having someone walk in on you doesn’t seem so bad.

“I’m sure you haven’t,” he says, sounding like he believes the exact opposite but is choosing not to call you out on it. “So that means it was a surprise then. A pleasant one, maybe?”

“It wasn’t bad. Just seems like you missed.”

“Missed?”

“Yeah.” You realize you’ll have to spell it out for him and experience a twinge of exasperated affection. “You’ve kissed me before, oh angel eyes, so I thought you’d—”

“No,” Eclipse quickly cuts in, shockingly serious, prompting you to stop in surprise. “No, that was different. The characters we play have kissed. We’ve always been removed from the roles that we act out in front of the lights and cameras. Those moments have all been directed, scripted, and cut to unrealistic perfection to meet the standards of television. But I have never kissed you, dear one. Not until now, at least, though it was most certainly worth the wait to me.”

He’s not wrong. You had been surreptitiously equating those little kisses on set to what might be real life, with a thin acknowledgment that it wasn’t really the same. Probably another reason you’ve been struggling so much lately. So Eclipse is right in that regard. But the tangent he’s gone off on isn’t what you’d meant.

You hook your foot around your ankle to stop the urge of bouncing your knee from restlessness. Your whole body feels ready to shift around if you don’t get a hold on this abnormal shyness. It has to be some sort of witchcraft he’s secretly working in the background. You’ve never felt like this around anyone before.

The annoying little voice in your head tells you that’s not true, bringing up recent memories of your encounters with all three of the brothers. You mentally tell that voice to shut up.

“That’s honestly one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me, Clip, but I was just saying that I thought you were going to kiss me like before.”

You almost frown at his intense scrutiny, his pupils shrinking and inverting to staggering gold against a harsh black backdrop.

“So just to make sure I’m understanding this correctly, what I’m hearing is that you want me to kiss you like our times on set? The times that I’ve had to pretend to hold you so harshly that your bones would have bruised if it weren’t for movie magic? Treating you like some object or pet that utterly demeans you? That’s what you want?”

As a joke, because you’re greatly feeling like you’re losing control of the conversation, you shrug and make a face that ultimately boils down to well, if the shoe fits.

Eclipse barks out a short laugh.

“Darling, I mean this with only the most graceful and kind intentions, but have you lost your damn mind?”

His reaction startles you, and you backtrack immediately.

“I’m not saying you have to kiss me like some deranged, possessive person—”

“I’m glad,” he snaps. “Because I won’t. I won’t ever do that to you, and I refuse to treat you like an object. I would have assumed you knew I respected you too much to even consider that.”

“Eclipse,” you huff, smiling to try to disarm the stiffness in his posture and face as his fierce declaration melts you, “I was just kidding. All of this was just to say that I thought you were going to kiss me on the lips. That’s all. I would never think so little of you, not when you’ve gone above and beyond to prove different.”

His upset disposition doesn’t waver right away, but he also doesn’t rush to speak up again. You can see the exact moment when your words sink in because the animatronic’s whole demeanor transforms. The sudden ferocity in his dark expression fades, and the air ebbs back into something lighter. You think you might have actually offended him—accidentally, that is—by implying he needed to be like the unhinged character he stars as. That wasn’t your intent by any means, and you rub his knuckles with your thumb in apology.

“…I see.” He aims a grumble at the floor. You can sense the tiny ripple of embarrassment from him now that he recognizes his overreaction. You’re almost certain he’d be blushing if it were possible. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. That wasn’t my intent. I was trying to be a gentleman.”

Oh, your smile is going to become a permanent feature if he keeps saying sweet nothings like that. That’s adorable.

He’s still pouting though, so to lighten the mood, you say, “You are very sweet. A total charmer. I’d even rate the experience a nine out of ten.”

Now it’s his turn to aim a flat grin your way. It makes yours inch up higher, and his rays cycle anew. You’ll be the first to admit that you’re relieved when the colors of his eyes invert again back to their usual pattern.

“Not a perfect score?” he sniffs, or as close to the sound that an animatronic can make. “Well, if you’re going to be such a smooching critic, maybe I should just take my kiss back.”

You gasp in feigned shock, rearing back as if scandalized.

“Eclipse! You wouldn’t.”

“I will,” he growls like he isn’t playing, and without warning, he effortlessly reels you back in.

A much more sincere gasp escapes you as he tilts your head to the side, baring the cheek he hadn’t kissed. His teeth find your unmarked skin, and this time, you feel like you might faint. You hadn’t expected this at all, and with no way to brace yourself for it, the suddenness leaves you in a tailspin. He must be able to hear your heart as your pulse rings like a clear bell in your ears. Everything from your face to your neck to your fingertips feels like it’s on fire, making you dizzy and breathless.

Eclipse doesn’t linger as long this time, but the gravely purr that sounds like a rake over coals stokes the embers in your body. He pulls away, not far, faceplate hovering just inches for you with a catlike smugness splashed across the surface. His rays are back to whirling again, and further down, you can hear the highspeed kick of his servos.

The consolation that you’re not the only one reeling is small but enough to ease you back down to a calmer plane of existence.

And to think you wanted him to kiss you on the mouth. The room must be stuffy or something because there’s no other logical reason for why you feel close to passing out. You feel hazy but also like you could sprint down the halls at a marathoner’s pace at the same time.

“Satisfied?” croons the voice right next to your ear.

Despite your best efforts, your lips curl up.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” you say, a bit heavy from your breathing.

For now at least, your thoughts tack on cheekily. You can’t disagree with that.

Eclipse practically preens from the underhanded praise. He straightens further to give you a little more breathing space, and your fingers dig into the creases of his pants with the desire to drag him right back in.

Later, though. As much as you like the idea of continuing, you much more appreciate the manner he’s approached this. Disguising his feelings as a reward or a favor or what have you allows you to put distance between yourself and a relationship. You know you really, really like the idea right now, but you don’t want to rush into things either. You want to think about it and also what he said about his brothers and their possible feelings too. Looking back at how close you’ve grown to Sun and Moon, you’re not so sure you doubt anymore that there could be something more in the sidelines that only needs to be approached to become a reality.

But time. You need time to take a step back and evaluate your own heart… regardless of the fact that everything in you is screaming a wild yes at progressing from being just friends.

You reach up and secure both of Eclipse’s hands in yours. The color of his optics shines with luscious warmth, drawing you like a moth to a flame. You maybe want to stop dancing around him and instead just dive right in. That all can wait, though. He’s already made it clear he’ll wait for you.

Quietly, you murmur, “Those little hiccups aside, I think you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

He laces your fingers together, likely feeling the fluttery jump of your pulse at even that.

“Hopefully, those will be good thoughts you have. But even if they aren’t,” he says, this time uttering your name like a whispered prayer, “even if you choose not to pursue a relationship with me, that is completely alright. And that extends to my brothers as well. Take your time; we’ll be right here.”

He lifts one of your hands then and gives you a final kiss, right atop the backs of your fingers. Of the three he’s given you so far, that one feels the most tender.

Before you can become a permanent fixture to your seat, Eclipse stands and helpfully brings you up with him.

“Now,” he says, voice returning to its deep thrum, “let's get back home before your food gets cold. I believe Sun is planning to put on his favorite Christmas movie for you tonight.”

“Oh?” You gleefully begin walking with Eclipse, his broad arm curving around you and keeping you close, which you are all too happy to accept. The little alcove of a lounge isn’t far from the apartment, but the trip seems even shorter this time. “I don’t think he’s ever mentioned it to me before. What is it?”

Eclipse gives a throaty chuckle, and his hand squeezes your shoulder.

“Not what you’d expect,” he answers in a very dubious manner that dodges the question entirely.

At the door of their apartment, he produces his keys from his pocket and unlocks it, holding it open for you to slip inside. The waft of mouth-watering dinner makes your nostrils flare. Eager, you toe off your shoes as Eclipse closes the door behind you, and the sound of the TV wars with the smell beckoning you back to the kitchen. You opt to make a beeline for the family room instead and find Sun and Moon on the couch while Sun fiddles with the remote and a selection of movies on the screen.

Moon catches sight of you first, and the eerie prickling of his evil grin should be warning enough. However, he pats the space next to him, two hearty thumps on the couch cushion between him and Sun.

“Have a seat, pardner.”

You can’t resist. It feels like you’re walking right into a trap—a feeling that only enhances as soon as you sit down. Moon’s arm that’s draped over the back of the couch noticeably slides down until his hand brushes your upper arm. He teasingly taps his fingers against it, and you side-eye him with mounting suspicion.

“Visit go well?” he asks. Despite his shifty aura, his tone is sincere.

You nod.

“Yeah, they seem really nice. I think the mom was appreciative of the meal at least. She looked really tired.”

Moon’s smile thins.

“That’s to be expected. Clip’s interacted with them the most, but we’ve all had the chance to meet them. Their kids are real cute and well-behaved. Sunny thinks so too, though you won’t catch him within ten feet of them.”

From your other side, Sun scoffs, “Stop making it sound like I think they’re carrying some contagious animatronic disease.”

A lightbulb goes off over your head then.

“So when you were talking about being nervous around kids this afternoon, you were referring to your neighbors?”

Sun glances from the TV to you, faceplate a little pained.

“Is that bad? Moonie and I have been talking about helping watch the kids if necessary, and if the parents are even okay with that, of course. We haven’t offered yet because we still don’t know them all that well, but we do want to help. I’m just not… I don’t know how much the kids would like or listen to me, to be honest.”

Moon grunts, and when you look back at him, he’s rolling his eyes.

“You’re more than capable, Sun. You just don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Well, maybe I want to fish for compliments.”

“Better get used to coming home empty-handed then.”

Sun glares waspishly over your head at his brother, and you shake your head with a snort. You tap Sun’s knee to get his attention, and his frown softens.

“I heard you had a Christmas movie in mind?”

Sun’s rays immediately begin spinning.

“Yes, I do! My very favorite, in fact, so I hope you’re into the classics. We’re just waiting for Clip to join us with your food.”

From the kitchen, Eclipse calls, “You can go ahead and start without me, Sunny!”

You think he might mutter something further, but it’s too faint to tell. Moon’s arm keeps slouching more and more of its weight onto you, and the very unsubtle hint finally makes you give in and rest against him.

Moon makes a very pleased hum, and you huffily laugh.

“Getting cozy?” you whisper up at him.

Dark optics peer down at you.

“I might need the extra comfort for tonight.”

Your face turns confused, and Moon nods towards the TV. You look back to see what Sun has selected, and you feel yourself freeze.

“No...”

That is not the lighthearted romance or cheesy, fluffy comedy you’d expected.

With a grin rivaling his namesake, Sun tilts his head at you, rays spinning.

“Is there really any better Christmas classic than Die Hard?” he remarks in a far too cheery tone.

You want to think he’s joking.

“I don’t really think that’s—”

“Glad you agree!” he announces before you can dispute it. Then with viperlike speed, he leans in, inches from your face. “Because I’d really hate for you to back out of a silly prank war so easily.”

When he gives you back your space, reclining against the other side of the couch with the most punchable smirk you’ve ever seen, you try to think of some way, any way, you can spin this in your favor without letting him win.

Moon’s chassis shudders beneath you as he tries to hide his amusement.

“Best not to reason with him,” he murmurs. “I’ve since learned to just accept it.”

“But… isn’t it technically a horror film?”

“By the movie’s standards? No. But it gives us all the excuses to cuddle, hm?”

You mull over your options. The movie starts, and Sun is glancing over at you and Moon with pointed skepticism like he’s debating over whether to try to finagle you over to his side. You almost wonder if that’s the sole reason he picked this movie. Knowing Sun, you absolutely would not put it past him.

If that’s the case, then game on. You give him a snarky waggle of your brows and snuggle further into Moon’s side. Sun’s optics turn into thin white lines with his playful glower. His faceplate tips up a bit with an air of self-assured posturing, and his little smile lets you know that he’s on to you.

Moon sneaks his hand from over your arm to under it, wiggling across your waist. You focus on that while you turn back to the movie.

As the night continues on, along with your two boys and eventually Eclipse and a plate of food that truly is divine, you find yourself unable to stop smiling. Horror movie or not, you feel more content and safer than you have in ages. It’s a deep-seated warmth that stays in your chest, flaring when Moon squeezes you closer throughout the movie, when Sun sneakily scoots across the couch inch by inch until you’re just as sandwiched against him with one hand threading with his, and once or twice when you catch Eclipse’s golden peripheral.

It’s a culmination of moments that wind through the hours and the laughs and the impromptu pillow fight that later ensues after the movie when you all try to set up a blanket fort, bursting with childish glee. It follows you when you settle in for the night, exhausted, somehow sharing the cushioned floor space with all three of the brothers despite you each having your own beds you could sleep in. The warmth doesn’t falter once but rather grows, making your heart beat at a slightly more elevated rate than usual even when you’re supposed to be sleeping. Your euphoria has yet to leave, and the snowflakes continue to spin outside in the darkness and the city lights, the cold far away when you’re snug in the comfortable haven that’s starting to feel more and more like home.

This is real. You have the option to make it an even greater reality, one they’ve offered to you freely.

Your eyes close after one final check on the quiet animatronics around you, still in their rest mode and version of dreamless sleep.

Yeah. You have a lot to think about.

[loverslakes]

chapter 4 of honey, i’m still free is here!

[hoodieimp]

Thinking So Hard about my silly OCs rn it's generating enough energy to send me vibrating into the stratosphere--

[wives-natlho]

How we met: Part 2. The escape.

We ended up finding our way back the next day. Right at nightfall we were at the walls of a Castrum that laid between us and the rest of our Maelstrom comrades.

There were just a couple guards and a giant wall between us and safety.

[kanene-yaaay]

*Fingerguns* Ayyy

WHAT!

A!

HELLOOOOO!!

Gooooooood morning, beans! A very nice and great morning for all of you becaaaaause! Do you know what today is?! :D Exactly! It’s my Expulsed-of-Womb Day!! Which meeeeeeeans that:

Today is this blog’s Birthday!

Which, on itself, means nothing. However! This year I finally got some time and a tad of inspiration to try to celebrate this especial date so I planned a little some-something for this week.

It’s very simple and Ihave no idea if it will work but it sounded fun, so I hope you like it -w-)s2

Everyday until the next week (hopefully) I will be posting 5 times:

- Three commented reblogs (Time To Ramble yeshhhh)

- Two self rbs of my own fanfics

There will be days that instead of just self rbs I will post at least one new story I have completed and one self rb  (like today :D).

And, yeah, it’s not a LOT of stuff but it’s still stuff! What a best way to come back from my break than throw a bunch of posts and rambles on your dash? ‘v’)s2

Maybe, as the days go by, I get new ideas to do during this week but for now I think that that is it. Thank you so much for all the support you showed me during those... gosh, three years? Yeah, I think so. Thank you very very veeeery much.

Don’t forget to take a break, leave a heart on your fav artist’s post and stay hydrated, beans. You are so cool.

[booksapphic]

god bless ao3

[booksandabeer]

The absolutely UNHOLY scream I just let out when I accidentally(!) discovered that a fic I adore was updated for the first time in 2 years. Three months ago!

I’m pretty sure I gave my cat a heart attack. Hell, I’m pretty sure I gave myself a heart attack. What. the. fuck.

[fazcinatingblog]

I've loved Jake for so many years, probably since his debut for Victoria when he drove to the game with his mum because he was only on L's and he was so cute and people said he was like maxi and I could see glimpses of maxi in him and it was enough for me to fall in love and

[anonymousicecream]

Masterlist

Annyeong readers! It's Ice Cream here, an aspiring KPOP fanfic reader/writer. I based the account off a Ryujin meme I found where she was sulking after not getting ice cream from Yuna, so I thought it'll be funny to name the account after her.

This is the masterlist of every story I wrote and publish on Tumblr. I'll focus on oneshots first, but I won't rule out writing full stories in the future. I'm also open to requests!

Ko-Fi for Requests

Twitter/X

Kinktober Request Link

Fluff:

A Night in Jakarta (Seulgi x M Reader)

Smut Oneshots

Korean Actress:

Dolce (Moon Ga Young x M Reader)

Aespa:

Escort (Sakura & Giselle x M Reader)

Dorm Mate (Karina x M Reader)

Hookup Hotshot (Ningning x M Reader)

Mutual Understanding (Giselle x M Reader)

Blackpink:

The Model (Jennie x M Reader)

Act (Jennie & Ryujin x M Reader)

Noona's Friends (Lisa x M Reader)

A Night in Bang-Cock (Lisa x M Reader)

Blacked (Jennie x M Reader)

Shhhhh (Jisoo x M Reader)

OnlyFans (Jennie & Lisa x M Reader)

ITZY:

Act (Jennie & Ryujin x M Reader)

Roommates (Yuna & Wonyoung x M Reader)

Long Lost (Wonyoung & Yuna x M Reader)

IVE:

Game Night (Yujin x M Reader)

Roommates (Yuna & Wonyoung x M Reader)

Bratty GF (Wonyoung x M Reader)

Kitty (Wonyoung x M Reader)

(Quick)ie (Wonyoung x M Reader)

Long Lost (Wonyoung & Yuna x M Reader)

Kiss Of Life:

Bathroom Break (Julie x M Reader)

Le Sserafim:

Burgers & Pizza (Yunjin x M Reader)

Escort (Sakura & Giselle x M Reader)

Smol (Chaewon x M Reader)

Comeback Present (Yunjin x M Reader)

NewJeans:

The Boy in the Crowds (Minji x M Reader)

Office (Hanni x M Reader)

Eternal Rivals (Minji x M Reader)

Wedding Getaway (Hanni x M Reader)

Back to You (Minji x M Reader)

NMIXX:

Mistress (Haewon x M Reader)

Red Velvet:

Dress (Joy & Yeri x M Reader)

Delivery (Seulgi x M Reader)

Pool (Yeri x M Reader)

Twice:

Behind Closed Doors (Momo x M Reader)

Landlord (Jihyo x M Reader)

Contract Negotiations (Sana x M Reader)

Girl Group Scenarios

Blackpink when having Car Sex

Mini-Series

The Queen (Yeri x M Reader)

The Queen (Yeri x M Reader)

The Queen Pt. 2 (Yeri x M Reader)

The Queen Pt. 3 - Final (Yeri x M Reader)

Backstage Fun (IVE x M Reader)

Backstage Fun (IVE Rei x M Reader)

Backstage Fun Pt II (IVE Wonyoung x M Reader)

Rivals at School? More Like on Bed (Karina Aespa x M Reader)

Rivals at School? More Like on Bed (Karina Aespa x M Reader)

Rivals at School? More Like on Bed Pt. II (Karina Aespa x M Reader)

Rivals at School? More Like on Bed Pt. III (Karina Aespa x M Reader)

Rivals at School? More Like on Bed Pt. IV (Karina Aespa x M Reader)

Medical Check-Up (Jihyo x M Reader)

Medical Check-Up (Jihyo x M Reader)

Medical Check-Up II (Jihyo x M Reader)

Leave Me Alone (Kwon Eunbi x M Reader)

Leave Me Alone (Kwon Eunbi x M Reader)

Leave Me Alone II (Kwon Eunbi x M Reader)

Leave Me Alone III (Kwon Eunbi x M Reader)

Full Series

The Rising Star (Series)

We Meet Again (Hyomin x M Reader)

Close to Home (Minnie x M Reader)

Greek (Lisa x M Reader) [Chp. 3]

Knock on the Door (Miyeon x M Reader) [Chp. 4]

Loosen Up (Natty x M Reader) [Chp. 5]

[sashi-ya]

HIS MONT BLANK hoshina soshiro x f! reader. bite kink

⋆ requested by: @omeowie - hello, I love your Hoshina x Reader fanfics a lot 💙 I love your writing style, how you build reader’s characteristics and situations so can I request a Hoshina Soshiro x Reader fic for the mini event. NSFW please 🥹 With bite kink and dirty talk if you’re comfortable with it. I would love to see a possessive or yandere Hoshina. But honestly, I would enjoy any Hoshina x Reader work from you. I wish you all the best and I will waiting for every of your fic. Thank you so much. 💕💕 ⋆tw: mdni. explicit smut. bite kink. some dirty talking here and there. nipple play and raw vag sex in a tent. Kafka x Mina mentioned, sorry not sorry, I just want those two to fuck already. ⋆wc: 2.1K // event masterlist // tagging some of you cause I know you want this man: @aries-m0rningstar @shaderynshidou @stargirlstabber @loyard176

You are probably wondering why squad 3 ended up on a camping trip to the Shiraiwa Falls, a scenic nature location one hour from the Tachikawa base. I have no idea, but what I do know is what happened that not very warm summer night...

Everybody seems to be in good spirit; Kaiju aren’t at all a problem during this night. The JAKDF vans rest at the very end of the road next to the Ooba Camp Village, and the tents have been properly set up. A very taken care of a bonfire also have been set, yet everybody is happy Ichikawa have brought with him many blankets for extra warmth. The humid nature of the place, and the “Tsuyu” or rain season made the nights of Hinode a little colder than the rest of the day.

Some of the guys, who -as always- have exceeded themselves during the day by climbing and acting like little animals playing here and there in the nature, are already showing signs of being tired. And even others are already dragging their bodies to the tents.

“You look cold” Hoshina fukutaicho says, as he comes closer to you. “A little bit…” you answer back, a little nervous. For some reason you can’t conceive the idea of a laid-back interaction with him when the rest of the squad’s around. “Come a little closer, I won’t bite you…” he whispers, smiling sweetly.

-oh, Soshiro Hoshina, you shouldn’t lie-

He covers you with the same blanket he is wearing, a proximity that some may or may not see a little bit too much for comrades. A proximity even to you seems too much.

However, nobody is really paying much attention; what everybody seems to be watching at is Kafka and Mina having a very private chat a few meters from the rest. Everybody knows, by any means, that such interaction should not be interrupted. Especially, when you discover Ashiro Taichou is capable of laughing being so close to Kafka.

“mhhh…” Soshiro hums, with a naughty smile. “don’t- bother them” Kikoru immediately intervenes. “Indeed, Shinomiya-chan ~” he sings; and with his usual two fingers up in the air he commands that it is time for everybody to go to sleep.

You beam, sweetly. Everybody knows, and at the same time they don’t. It doesn’t matter where that conversation will lead them, but everybody wants Mina and Kafka to laugh and enjoy their night.

“Which tent are you sleeping in?” Soshiro asks, once you stand up to follow everybody else to the tents.

“I was paired with Captain Mina, so that one” you answer, confused as why he is actually asking that.

“Good, then you are sleeping in mine. I paired myself with Kafka but given the fact that they might want a free tent -and if they don’t I will make them use one- this must be done” Soshiro decrees.

You might wanted to differ, but can you say no to him?

Soon, and after the rest couldn’t notice, you are finally inside the vice-captain tent. You find yourself sitting right on what it could have been Kafka’s sleeping bag, covered still with the blanket Soshiro shared with you. The scent of his manly perfume invades your nose, brain and mind. And your eyes, get full of the image of him taking his jacket off.

Soshiro wearing shorts is a whole new look you aren’t used to; but the compression shirt always stays on. He knows how good it looks on him, and he will explode such tempting imagery to his own benefit.

“Looking something  delicious, (Name)-san?” he asks, playful and naughty. “You ~” you murmur, covering your mouth with the blanket.

Soshiro crawls towards you; the tent isn’t big, so there isn’t room for much. His skilful hands pull from your blanket; he wants to see your body, too.

“You might have to excuse me, but you are the delicious one here my sweet little whore” he whispers, kneeled just in front of you ready to attack your lips.

Before you could say something, he turns off the little lamp. Soshiro is well aware of how shadows can casts on a tent specially if its dark enough on the outside.

A subtle light that comes from the silver moon, filters through the fabric of the Izumo tecs tent. It’s enough; you don’t really need the light to see each other’s bodies. Hands all over can travel through the mounts and valleys of your anatomies; lips all over too. Teeth can carve flesh, and tongue taste the taste of lust and needs.

“You smell so sweet, (Name). Did you use this perfume to make me fuck you, my dolce little whore? You want me to bite all over your tits?” he murmurs, inhaling the scent from the small of your neck. Those words hit you hard, your core gets more wet than before.

As if you were a honeyed Mont Blanc, Soshiro’s mouth begins to water. His hand land on your mandible, grabbing your chin with his palm, letting his thumb dive into your mouth and using enough force to move your head to the side.

With your neck exposed, now, he is able to take of bite of your dessert skin. The prominence of his fangs have always been a problem, or maybe just a blessing. Sharp, honed. Enough pressure can tear, rend the flesh. Just as his blades, so precise and deadly…

“Did I say I wouldn’t bite you? I will, actually” he smirks. You can’t see, but you can feel his lips curling up like a devil ready to be as mischievous as he pleases.

Because you allow it. Because you want it to. Because he says so, too.

The first bite came soft, the second one a little harder. The thumb inside your mouth, dampened in saliva, travels from the commissure of your lips towards your neck and chest.

There, where the zipper of your sports shirt is, his fingers reach. Soshiro lowers it, allowing your breasts to pop just like he likes it. Pointy nose buries just in the valley of your collarbones, going down, inhaling more and more of your sweet perfume.

“Ugh… I can’t stop myself. I just want to leave bruises all over this beautiful needy skin of yours” he grunts, getting his fangs ready to bite yet again. This time, with your hips already straddled on his lap. His hardness pushing strong against your core, so much that even the sport shorts feel tight on him.

Every bite makes you flinch; you react with little spasms. He never bites in order, if there is even an order to devour someone. Almost like a cannibal, he keeps bruising your delicate skin, with a painful and yet so delicious sensation. Soshiro could spend the rest of the night just like this, and you will be thankful even if he dared to drew blood out of you.

Down, down to your nipples he goes. Soshiro immediately covers your mouth with his palm, because he knows those little sweet whimpers must only be heard by him, and him only.

Nibbling on your right one, you shudder. Harder, Hoshina fukutaicho.

The tip of his left fang seems to pierce your extra sensitive tissue, enough to trigger a desperate need for your core to graze against his erection.

“My needy little Mont Blanc, come on move on top of my dick, pleasure yourself go ahead” he scoffs. Soshiro encourages you to move on top of him, to hump on him, with his palm squeezing your ass cheeks and pushing you towards him.

Your hands land on his shoulders; oh, the strong, well-trained shoulders of a blade specialist. Your nails, that imitate his teeth, carve marks into the very beginning of his shoulder blades as the biting on your breasts turn more and more violent.

And Soshiro wants more. You definitely want it too. Thus, slowly, but surely your back finally hits the not so comfy surface of the sleeping bag.

His hands land on each side of your head, pinned in missionary position by your hungry superior and lover. A trail of saliva on the commissure of his mouth shines with the weak moonlight passing through the zipper of the tent. The same goes for your upper body; you are trembling, feeling as the wet spots where his teeth have been get colder with a soft breeze.

Your shaky hands reach for the lower hem of his shirt; as much as you may love that compression piece of clothing, you love his pale skin the most.

“Take it off…” you murmur, perhaps pleading for mercy because you are sure this is just the start of this man’s sharp torture.

He smiles, devilishly; the fangs that sometimes are too cute to handle, now show how dangerous they could really be.

Soshiro takes off his shirt, then, looking like the star of a men strip club. Or maybe it is just that his tiny waist seems to be deadly dancing every time he moves.

You swallow, snaking your legs around his hips, pulling him closer to you. He gasps, Soshiro is very used to lead the way, not the other way around. However, he is absolutely lost in need to think much further.

Your eyes interlock; fixed into each other, hungry, desperate. Maybe in another time there will be more time for more foreplay, but not tonight.

You didn’t even notice when it happened, but your pants were off as fast as he can subjugate a Kaiju. His, pulled down by your toe hooked into the hem of his shorts, tangle around his strong hips.

“It’s gonna be raw, babe” he lets you know, half panting, half serious. “I know” you confess, you don’t want it any other way despite the risks.

Soshiro takes a big gasp of air, you are being the death of him. First, your sweet perfume, then your sweet taste and now your desperation for his sex. He then proceeds to lift your left leg up to his waist; he wants to go deeper the mere moment he is inside of you.

“Spread it like this” he murmurs, biting your knee from the side. Soshi positions himself a little to the side, in a delicious way to enter, pumping his throbbing shaft just a little to coat it entirely with the sprouting precum oozing from his tip.

You, on the other side, swear that the poor sleeping bag is already wet from your honeys. And you are not wrong, but things are about to get even more damp.

Slowly, because he can be fast and deadly, but also painfully unrushed, the tip barely lets your folds to engulf it. Your toes curl, it feels like rapture, like total ecstasy. Warmth against warmth, sliding so easily inside, stretching walls just perfectly slow.

The broad shoulders of Soshiro seem to become larger, his frame bigger. You can only imagine the look from his back, with every muscle moving, every defined line leading to the small of his back.

His abs aren’t the exception, either. The way his perfectly sculped stomach moves to the rhythm of his still superficial short thrusts might be enough to make you come. What a beautiful blade warrior he is.

“More…” “More? Aren’t you a little desperate bitch of mine?”

Soshiro goes deeper. Deeper than before. His hand lands on your mouth again, your moan stopped, your heart about to jump from your chest.

The rhythm increases. His hips go in and out faster with every impaling motion, and his teeth grip from the bridge of your foot. Even there, he is willing to leave his marks. Even from there, he wanna taste.

And yet, even on the verge of climax, it is not enough for him. Not deep enough… Your shin ends up on his shoulder, a position you weren’t exactly sure your body was capable to be put on.

He lets his body weight fall on top of you, and you can feel how his hardness might be drilling a hole into your insides. This time it is his mouth the one to mutter your orgasmic whines, inhaling the way you barely pronounce a <fuck> mixed with his name.

And now, he goes full throttle. Ah, Soshiro Hoshina, Vice-captain, fast and precise, deadly and wild… Slaps that some might have chosen to ignore during the night, were created with feverish skin against skin. Moans and grunts were engulfed by needy drooling mouths. Climaxes were reached, on and on and on…

Next morning, camping’s women’s bathroom house.

“(Name) what are those marks on your skin?” “Uh… mosquito bites…” “Oh, Captain Ashiro also has them all over her skin! You two forgot to use bug spray last night?!” “How about we stop asking so many questions…”

….

Next morning, camping’s men’s bathroom house.

“Seems mosquitoes were pretty annoying last night… right, Hoshina fukutaichou? Hibino Kafka?” “bwahahaha, they call you bug Hibino Kafka!” 😂 “They are laughing at you too, fukutaicho!!”  -.-

[senascoop]

☁︎ . , YOU’RE CRAZY! . . 엔하이펜 ☁︎

ꣀ꣒ #ENHYPEN catching you reading their fanfic

boyfriend ! hyung line × girlfriend ! afab reader : : fluff + slightly suggestive + established relationship : : m.list : : enhypen mini series

taglist: @moonpri @chexnluv @wensurr

♫︎ REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

. , LEE HEESEUNG ☁︎ 이희승 !

Heeseung was sprawled comfortably on the bed next to you, his head resting on his arm as he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone. He glanced over at you and noticed the way your lips curled into a smile, your eyes glued to your screen. Curiosity piqued, Heeseung shifted closer, propping himself up on his elbow to peer over your shoulder. “What are you reading?” Heeseung asked, his voice laced with mild curiosity.

You immediately jerked your phone away, clutching it tightly to your chest as a startled gasp escaped your lips. His brows furrowed in confusion, but instead of backing off, Heeseung’s playful determination kicked in. Without a second thought, he leaned over, his chest pressing against your back as he swiftly snatched your phone from your hands.

“Heeseung!” you protested, your cheeks flushing a deep pink. You scrambled to get your phone back, reaching out desperately as embarrassment washed over you, but Heeseung simply held it out of reach, his eyes scanning the screen with a growing smirk.

“What are you read—” His words halted abruptly as his eyes widened. The corners of his mouth twitched with amusement as he read aloud, “Bad boy Heeseung who likes to—”

“Stop!” you yelped, your hand flying up to cover his mouth, muffling his words. Your heart pounded against your ribs, mortification spreading like wildfire through your veins. You could feel Heeseung’s warm breath against your palm as he chuckled against your hand, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Heeseung gently pried your hand away, still chuckling as he leaned back against the headboard. “You’re so weird sometimes,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes flicked back to your phone, skimming through the fanfic with an amused grin. You watched in horror as he scrolled down, his laughter echoing softly in the quiet room.

“Please, Heeseung, stop reading it!” you pleaded, burying your face in your hands.

Heeseung’s laughter grew louder, the sound rich and warm. “Oh, this is gold,” he managed between chuckles, eyes never leaving the screen. He threw his head back, his shoulders shaking as he continued to read, clearly enjoying every mortifying detail.

You slumped back against the pillows, groaning as you peeked at him through your fingers. Heeseung finally put your phone down, wiping a tear from his eye. “You’re never living this down,” he teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he nudged your shoulder.

For the rest of the week, he would bring it up at the most random moments, whispering dramatic lines from the fic in your ear or mimicking a “bad boy” persona just to see you flustered. Despite the relentless teasing, there was a fondness in the way he looked at you— a silent appreciation for your quirks, even if it meant enduring a little embarrassment along the way.

. , P.JS/JAY ☁︎ 박종성 !

Jay was running late tonight, the city lights casting a warm glow on the bustling streets as he hurried to your place. Feeling guilty for not making it on time, he stopped by a street vendor to grab your favorite snacks as a peace offering. With the comforting aroma of food in hand, he quietly entered your room, careful not to wake you.

The soft light from your phone illuminated your peaceful face, and Jay couldn’t help but smile at how adorable you looked while you slept. But as he set the food down on your nightstand, his eyes wandered to your phone, its screen still on. He knew he shouldn’t invade your privacy, but curiosity got the best of him when he saw his name on the screen.

“Jay being needy for kisses—” he read aloud, his voice catching in his throat. "What the hell?" He muttered, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Despite his shock, Jay’s gaze lingered on the text, and before he knew it, he was reading the entire fanfic, line after line. His cheeks flushed a deep pink as the words sank in, and he couldn’t stop the shy grin spreading across his face.

For a moment, Jay stood there, just staring at your phone, feeling his heart race as he imagined himself in the scenes you were reading. His ears burned as he let out a soft chuckle, completely flustered by the thought of you enjoying this kind of content about him.

You stirred slightly, and Jay immediately snapped out of his thoughts, quickly clearing your phone screen and setting it back down gently where he found it. He composed himself, taking a deep breath to steady his racing heart. When you blinked your eyes open, still drowsy and half-asleep, Jay played it cool, acting as though he had just arrived.

"Hey," he greeted softly, the usual confidence in his voice mixed with a hint of nervousness he tried to hide. His smile softened as he leaned closer, his eyes holding a playful glint. “You know, you don’t have to read stuff like that when you can experience it for real.”

Before you could fully process his words, Jay closed the distance, brushing his lips gently against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Your sleepy eyes widened in surprise, but you relaxed almost immediately, feeling the warmth of his affection seep through the kiss. Jay pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his smile still shy but genuine.

His words echoed softly in the quiet room as he added, “I’m sorry I was late… but I’ll make up for it.” And with that, he kissed you again, each touch of his lips a silent promise that he was there—real, warm, and entirely yours.

. , S.JY/JAKE ☁︎ 심재윤 !

Jake was sprawled out on your bed, flipping through his phone with a bored expression. After a while, he glanced over at you, busy with something on your laptop across the room. A mischievous smile tugged at his lips as a playful idea popped into his head. Silently, he snatched your phone, planning to hide it just to see you flustered for a bit.

But as he lifted it, the screen lit up, and his teasing grin froze. His eyes widened as he skimmed the text on your screen, reading aloud in a low murmur, “And then he grabbed you by your waist and pinned you down to the bed as he—”

Jake’s jaw dropped, amusement dancing in his eyes, even as a pink blush dusted his cheeks. He burst into laughter, unable to hide how flattered—and entertained—he was by your reading choice.

“I didn’t know you were into this,” he teased, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and playful confidence. He glanced up just as you walked in, your eyes instantly widening in horror. Panic set in as you rushed to snatch your phone back, but Jake was quicker, holding it just out of reach with a cheeky smirk.

You managed to grab your phone eventually, your fingers fumbling to clear the screen, but not before Jake acted on his sudden burst of boldness. With a swift move, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you onto the bed. A surprised yelp escaped your lips as he pinned you down, your wrists held gently above your head, his gaze locking onto yours with a mischievous glint.

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, trailing up to your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “You could’ve just said, you know.” His voice was low, teasing yet dripping with a flirty undertone that sent a shiver down your spine.

“I—” you stuttered, your words lost as Jake’s lips met yours in a slow, lingering kiss that made your mind go blank. The phone in your hand slipped from your grasp, forgotten on the sheets as you melted into his touch, the initial embarrassment fading under the warmth of his embrace.

Jake pulled back just enough to smile down at you, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he whispered, “Guess we’ve got a new way to pass the time, huh?” His playful grin was back.

. , PARK SUNGHOON ☁︎ 박성훈 !

Sunghoon and you were nestled in the corner of the living room, surrounded by the cozy mess of snacks and laughter from your impromptu game of truth and dare. The room was softly lit, the golden glow from the lamp casting a relaxed ambiance over the two of you. Sunghoon leaned against the couch, his eyes twinkling with mischievous anticipation as it was your turn to pick a dare.

With a mix of excitement and apprehension, you accepted the challenge: read one of Sunghoon's fanfics aloud. You pulled out your phone and opened a hidden folder labeled “Sunghoon Fics,” the screen illuminating your face in the dim light. Sunghoon, lounging casually beside you, squinted at the screen, his casual demeanor suddenly shifting to one of surprise.

His eyes widened as he saw the numerous fanfics saved on your phone. Titles like “Seven Minutes in Heaven with Enemy Sunghoon” and “Having a Wet Dream—” flashed across the screen. Sunghoon’s jaw dropped slightly, his usually composed expression melting into one of astonished disbelief.

“How did you even have this…” Sunghoon stammered, his voice a mix of confusion and curiosity. He shifted, leaning closer to you, his body language suddenly tense as he tried to grasp the situation.

Caught off guard, he stuttered, “Wait, you don’t read stuff like this, do you?” his voice was shaky, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The weight of his gaze made your nerves dance.

“No… no…” you hurriedly denied, your face heating up as you fumbled to explain. Sunghoon was determined, though, and before you could fully grasp his reaction, he snatched your phone from your grasp, holding it at arm's length.

He began reading through each title with growing incredulity. “Seven Minutes in Heaven with Enemy Sunghoon?” he read aloud, his tone a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Having a Wet Dream—” His voice trailed off, and he looked at you with a mix of shock and playful accusation. “Oh god,” he muttered, his eyes widening as he regarded you as if you’d just confessed to a major secret.

Sunghoon’s reaction was a whirlwind of curiosity and disbelief. He quickly set your phone aside and turned his full attention to you, his expression softening into an earnest interrogation. “Since when?” he demanded, leaning in closer with a mix of concern and intrigue. “Why? How?”

You were caught in the whirlwind of his questions, struggling to find your words. The sudden shift in the atmosphere made you feel even more self-conscious. Sunghoon’s gaze remained fixed on you, his hands finding their way to your waist as he gently guided you to sit on his lap, making you straddle him. His touch was light but firm, his fingers warm against your hips.

As you settled onto his lap, Sunghoon’s face was a study of mixed emotions—shock, curiosity, and a hint of mischief. “Well, I guess I’ll be reading these when I miss you, imagining ‘you’,” he said, his voice playful yet tinged with a teasing undertone. He leaned in, his breath warm on your lips.

THANK YOU FOR READING !

enhypen mini series

main masterlist

© senascoop | tumblr

[spencerswh0re]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A/N - HI!! i love love love spencer reid and i spend most of my time reading fanfics of him, so i thought i would give writing some of my own a shot! this is my first fic (recently, i used to write wattpad fics when i was like 12) so bear with me :))

word count - 1,482

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐀𝐔, 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

spencers life had been hard. there was no point in sugar coating it, he’d been through a lot. being kidnapped, developing a drug addiction, his girlfriend being killed directly in front of him and being to prison were only a handful of the things that had gone wrong in his life. and even after all of this trauma, he still managed to stay the same person. or atleast, mostly the same person.

one big thing had changed after prison and his encounters with cat adams. spencer had always been a hopeless romantic, he dreamed of the day he would meet a nice woman, settle down with her, and live out the life he had always wanted. but after dealing with some confusing feelings for a hitman, he had started to lose hope in ever finding love.

spencer was a 39 year old man, and he had still not found his perfect woman, he was starting to think she didn’t exist.

this was why he gave up. he stopped dating, stopped blushing and stammering whenever he met an attractive woman, and instead, he became charming. it became a common occurrence for spencer reid to spend his evenings in the bar, wooing a woman back to bed with him. he would bid them farewell the next morning, and that would be that. and it worked, it kept him satisfied, for a while.

until it didn’t.

the day you walked into the bullpen of the BAU, things changed for spencer reid.

you were beautiful, easily the prettiest girl he had ever seen, you were young, and had this innocence about you, he knew, from the very beginning, that he wanted you.

it was barely a week after you started on the team when spencer realised why he was so attracted to you.

the team was on the jet home from your first case, it had been a relatively easy one, they had caught the unsub in 2 days, and saved his final victim.

“we shouldn’t even be flying in these conditions” rossi had complained, referring to the heavy rain and strong winds “what if we get struck by lightning?”

just as spencer was about to spit out a random fact about flying during lightning, you beat him to it.

“actually, aircraft’s are designed to deal with lightning strikes, modern planes are designed to spread electric currents through the fuselage and funnel them out through the tail, bypassing the plane interior entirely. the last major accident occurred in 1967, when a stray strike caused a poorly-designed plane’s fuel tank to explode, so even if we were to be struck, which is highly unlikely, we’d be perfectly fine” you had rushed it out quickly, and spencer could tell from your blushing cheeks and shy smile that you were embarrassed over your rambling.

“sorry” you said, quietly, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“hey, reid, it seems y/l/n is a mini version of you, maybe we’ll have to replace you” emily had said, laughing lightheartedly. spencer, however, was stuck in place, eyes locked on you. he couldn’t believe it, he had found out earlier in the week that you were 24, just out of the academy, but you had been put straight into a specialised unit based off of your impressive qualifications. he realised, in that moment, that he didn’t just want you in the way he wants other women, he wanted you for real, he was falling for you.

the plane ride went painfully slowly after that.

a few months later, nothing had changed, except for the fact you had made it more and more difficult for him to keep away from you. ever morning, you would walk straight over to his desk, wishing him a cheery "good morning!" before perching yourself down next to his files and asking him about his night.

he had never been one to talk to his co workers about his sex life, but sometimes he would make an exception, because at least he had stories to be telling, but recently, there hadn't been anything to tell.

the night that they got back from your very first case, the team had gone to the bar to celebrate, after everybody had left, he made his was to the bar for one final drink, and to choose his target for the night, however, his plans had been ruined, when he'd seen you, across the bar, talking to some guy. spencer held back a scoff, he was obviously an asshole, he was tall (yet, not quite as tall as him) and buff. you were clearly feeling uncomfortable, and he knew that you had had one too many, and you weren't in the right state of mind. he walked over, told you it was time to go home, and got you in his car.

you were asleep before he could ask for your address.

after fighting with himself a little, he eventually decided to take you back to his place, you took the bed, he took the couch.

after that night, he hadn't been able to be with anybody else, he hadn't wanted to be with anybody else.

"oh, you know, same old, what about you?" he responded.

"nothing much really, um.. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.." you told him

shit. now he was scared, had he done something to make you upset? had he made his feelings for you too clear and made you uncomfortable? had he-

"I uh- I noticed your spock pop figure on your desk, i've got the entire Star Trek box set at home... I was wondering if you might wanna come over? we can get something to eat, maybe get to know each other better?"

he didn't know what to say, this was y/n y/l/n, the girl he had been pining over for months, and she was asking him out? of course he wanted to say yes, that much was obvious, but he hadn't been in a real relationship since maeve, and even that didn't really count.

you were young, and so innocent, he was tainted, his hands were dirty, his mind haunted by the things he had done in prison, he didn't want to corrupt you.

you obviously took his silence as a no, and quickly jumped back in.

"if not that's totally fine too! I just thought it might be fun"

and just as he was about to politely reject you, he looked into your eyes.

innocent, yes. but there was something else, something that reminded him an awful lot of a feeling he had never truly felt. love. he knew then what he had to do.

"that sounds like fun, y/n, ill come over tonight at 6:00?" he responded with a smile.

"yes! yes! my address is 16 cornelia street, apartment 17."

"excellent, ill be there" he said

and he was.

at 5:57, he was waiting outside of your door, holding a bunch of flowers, and wearing an outfit he had spent far to long picking out. he knew it was a casual thing, and he knew you would just be staying home, so he decided to wear something he had never worn before. sweatpants. he had gone to the store to buy them immediately after work. along with a baggy Star Trek t shirt.

when he finally gathered up the courage to knock, you answered almost immediately, and he was speechless.

you looked beautiful, you were wearing a pair of white sweatpants along with a tight grey vest top, your hair was down, and you were wearing an adorable pair of bunny slippers.

when he finally snapped out of his trance, he stuck the flowers out in your direction with a quiet "these are for you"

your response came quickly, and with a smile "they're beautiful, spencer, thank you. I ordered chinese food, i hope that's alright" you said as you walked into the kitchen to find a vase.

not as beautiful as you. he wanted to say, but he settled for a shy nod and a smile instead.

after dinner, the two of you took a seat of your couch and began watching the first movie.

he wasn't satisfied.

he moved a little bit closer.

still wasnt enough.

he considered pulling out the cringey yawning trick, but decided against it, instead, deciding to touch your pinky with his own.

still, not quite enough.

towards the end of the first movie, you mored close enough so that you could put your had on his chest.

"is this okay?" you whispered, so quiet he could hardly hear you over the TV.

"more than okay" he whispered back, putting his arm around your shoulders to keep to close.

he realised, right there in that moment, that he was done with the girls, and the bars, this, right here, with you in his arms, was exactly where he was supposed to be.

A/N - OKAY!! the ending was slightly rushed, I'm sorry, but I'm very very tired and I have class tomorrow, but I wanted to get this done. if you liked it, let me know, send me requests if you want <3

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Masterlist

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Author note: This is my first attempt at a fanfic, but I was just so inspired and wanted to post it somewhere after writing like +67K words (and counting). So here goes nothing I guess?

Warnings: Minors DNI! 18+! May contain disturbing, gruesome, and graphic sexual scenes. Graphic violence. Blood. Obsession. Mentions of abuse. Mentions of substance abuse. Trigger warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter. 

“Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear…” 

- Mahatma Gandhi

-> Chapter One - The Commercial

-> Chapter Two - Breakfast

-> Chapter Three - Care for a Drink? Spice 🔥

-> Chapter Four - The Meeting

-> Chapter Five - Night's Mistress Smut 💦

-> Chapter Six - A Stroll Spice 🔥

-> Chapter Seven - Forget Me Knot Smut 💦

-> Chapter Eight - The Headliner Spice🔥

-> Chapter Nine - A Black Suit Spice🔥

-> Chapter Ten - Cute Smut 💦

-> Chapter Eleven - Lucifer's Visit

-> Chapter Twelve - The Kidnapping

-> Chapter Thirteen - The Truth

-> Chapter Fourteen - Picking a Fight Smut 💦

—> A message to the readers

-> Chapter Fifteen - Heaven's Worst Kept Secret Smut 💦

-> Chapter Sixteen - Let’s Kill God Smut 💦

-> Chapter Seventeen - The Countdown Cuteness ❤️

Alternative Endings:

Alternative Ending 1: Mini-Chapter Eighteen - My Fawn and My Shadow

Alternative Ending 2: Mini-Chapter Eighteen - Paris

In Production:

-> Chapter Nineteen (one per ending)

-> Epilogue (one per ending)

[meanbossart]

LORE ASK COMPILATION: "Still not banging Halsin, Squid Games, Sun King, Failing at love quizzes, Bottoms, Tops, and Cats" Edition

He didn't, Halsin wasnt around for act 3, too busy healing land and saving ghost children or something!

THANK YOU/I'M SORRY, I'm surprised there isn't more Bhaalist Dark Urge/Spawn Astarion stuff out there. Don't get me wrong, I love a good evil power couple, but who can resist the good ol'heartbreak of a vicious unending cycle brought on by your own senselessness!

That wasn't something I was interested in previously just because acquiring the slayer form isn't part of his canon, but I've been looking at enough fromsoft games' monster designs that I might be a little inspired to try LOL

Also I am just a fan of the canon design and never before thought it needed altering. But I'll let it cook ;)

God damn it.

DU drow was VERY antagonizing towards the emperor since the moment he dropped the facade, which made the attempt ESPECIALLY hilarious - that poor guy is so, so lonely.

I don't recall the exact wording in-game, but once the emperor took his shiny squid pecs out and shot his shot, DU drow recoiled and called him disgusting. After having the visions of Stelmane forced upon him to make whatever baffling point the emperor was trying to make, DU drow smugly asserted that he had finally let the mask slip and their very terrible date ended with the Emperor enforcing their reluctant need for one another, for the time being.

In-prose, that would honestly be pretty much it. DU drow would have reacted with absolute revulsion at the prospect of being hit on by a mindflayer, and taken the Emperor's (miscalculated) moment of lashed-out vulnerability as a win - as proof that he was exactly as duplicitous as he always assumed the Emperor to be.

I can assure everyone that I am as entertained by the thought as the rest of you and it is in the cards for future art, I just have... So many prompts... I have at least 5 different mini-comics I want to make, BESIDES singular pieces, BESIDES the fanfic... I wish I had more time and more hands.

But DU drow's unlikely semi-success as a parental figure is hilarious to me. I think about it constantly.

I haven't entertained that thought much because its antithetical to DU drow's character. Whether "good" or evil, he wouldn't allow Astarion to ascend because of his fear of no longer being needed and his reluctance to watch his partner be consumed by out-sourced power and changed into something he despises. Realistically, in a world where Astarion is allowed to ascend they could only break up and inevitably kill each other soon after.

That said, I am fascinated by the Sun King and the implications that path has for his character. So far that is an arc that I can only really see Astarion taking on alone, though - that might change in the future, might not. We'll see!

IF I CAN MAKE IT NOT ENTIRELY MISERABLE, I JUST MIGHT.

He got 2 out of 3 questions wrong - which is to say he was way too honest and Astarion didn't like that.

Except for the "when is he the happiest" question, which he correctly answered with "when he's neck deep in gore".

This is not even a lore-embelishment, this is actually how that scene went for me and I cackled about it for ages.

He would love to get tied up for old-times' sake. I doubt he knows much about fancy knots but Astarion might (though I might be in a minority that doubts his enforced "sex life" was actually that interesting at all.)

Thank you so much!

You are mostly correct. Bhaalist drow, both pre and post tadpole would be much more keen on the idea of having people around who fulfill their every desire - EXCEPT for killing. That is a joy they take on for themselves.

"Canon" DU drow values his independence a lot, on the other hand. He's neutral on the idea of slavery (what a sentence) and wouldn't be opposed to temporary servicing, but the idea of having someone around waiting for orders doesn't attract him at all, or at least would get on his nerves quick. He much preffers to do things himself and makes sure that other people see how much he does not need assistance.

The answer is yes, basically LOL.

DU drow both adores and despises Sceleritas presence and he doesn't know why. It very much reflects the type of relationship they used to have prior to DU drow's memory loss, and it's one of those things that he has conflicting feelings about but not any context for them.

I sadly doubt that the boys would become parents during Shadowheart's lifetime (it's for the best, they have a lot of work to do before I would trust them not to drop a baby), but honestly she strikes me as really liking kids as long as she doesn't have to, well, have them LOL.

And thank you so much for enjoying them and humoring me!

I think it is less about bottoming-topping and more about enjoying a more submissive role during sex, as well as in other scenarios. He believes that giving control away is, in a way, a show of devotion that goes both ways - his own for the willingness to do so, and his partner's for not taking advantage of it despite his wanting them to do so.

With one-night-stands (which he occasionally had pre-tadpole) he would still bottom without any of the submissiveness. This is because he didn't have the capacity to understand what it was about bottoming that attracted him, and led him to feeling constantly unfulfilled and frustrated (he just isn't build for no-strings-attatched type of arrangements, lol.)

This means that he really could operate either way depending on the partner as long as he got that fix of docility, whether it be from the bottom or top.

I think of Astarion as being similarly versatile but leaning more in the opposite direction when it comes to power-dynamics - though it being less about dominance itself and more about being pampered and catered to - and, of course, getting to do what he wants. Though he's willing to try most things a partner is particularly enthusiastic for just to see how he feels about it.

That said with DU drow he does prefer to top for a plethora of reasons.

I didn't have this piece of lore thought-up at the time, but I should have made them look like the lady he lost his virginity to.

Him and Astarion were gobbling those things up until the emperor reveal, then they both quit it cold-turkey after DU drow stomped the astral-tadpole dead (and back then you didn't have to roll any dice to do it, because otherwise we would have weird veiny DU drow to deal with for sure because he would NOT have suceeded that save.)

DU drow's feelings towards animals is a constant in every iteration of his character. They are organic little pieces of art wandering about the world that act upon their own laws and regulations, ones which humanoids aren't privy to - except for when they intrude into that world through magic and try to understand it through their overly-complicated systems and concepts. If a cat made the temple it's home, it can stay.