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reidmotif · 8 months

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"Technically" Not A Student

Summary: Reader is Alex Blake’s TA, and after a guest lecture, Spencer seems to take a liking to her .

Prompt:You’re Alex Blake’s TA when a Dr. Reid comes to guest lecture. Things get heated quickly when you're alone.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, guestlecturer!Spencer , age gap (roughly 10 years), car sex, heavy making out, unprotected sex, slight female masturbation, Spencer is smart and that's HOT, heavy sexual tension

Word Count: 5.1k

Being asked to be Alex Blake’s TA was the opportunity of a lifetime, and when it was presented to me as a first-year graduate student at Georgetown, I took it eagerly and never looked back.

She had personally approached me after I’d finished a semester in her forensic linguistics class as a freshman, and commended me on my dedication to the material and my general work ethic, and then inquired if I’d ever consider filling out an application as her teaching assistant starting the next semester.

I immediately agreed. It was a no-brainer. Blake was a seasoned professional in the career field I wished to enter, not to mention she’d been one of the best professors I’d had whilst taking classes at Georgetown. Knowing I’d be working so closely with her absolutely thrilled me. It provided opportunities I'd have never gotten otherwise.

For example, getting to sit in on the class the famed Spencer Reid would be lecturing on.

She usually kept me quite busy, having me develop assignments and quizzes for her class when she had other responsibilities to attend to. I’d heard horror stories from other TA’s in which their supervisors would delegate ninety-nine percent of the work to their juniors, having them essentially teach the class for minimal recognition or pay. Blake wasn’t like that, and I was thankful. This time around though, she had very different instructions for me.

“You don’t need to prepare any material this time around.” Blake explained to me, and I nodded, listening diligently. “I’d just like you to sit in, and possibly take notes, as you see fit.” She added, and I flashed a polite smile, nodding.

“No problem whatsoever. I’ll sit in the back so as to not bother any students as I do.” I replied, offering her as much convenience as I could within my actions.

Secretly, I did want to catch more than a glimpse from the back of the room. I wanted to experience the esteemed colleague Blake had often spoken of with incredible fondness. I was aware he was slightly older than I was, and a bit socially inept from the way she described him in his stories, but I was also aware the man was a goddamn genius. She’d describe in precision the way Reid would pick up on patterns and leads faster than anyone else on the team, and his immense knowledge in multiple fields beyond criminal profiling. When she’d told me he had three pHDs, I had to hold back a gasp. I hadn’t even started my own doctorate, but the idea only exhausted me- and he had three?! Color me impressed.

Blake, being as brilliant as she did, could sense the hidden enthusiasm in my eyes in meeting this man.

“Honestly, I’d rather you sit in the front. If you’re taking notes for any student unable to attend, it’s more imperative that you know the contents of the lecture, rather than anyone else.” She said, smiling kindly.

“That’s absolutely alright with me.” I say, even quicker than before, nodding, thoughtfully. In reality, the only thing I was thinking about was how close I’d be near the man. I had no idea what he looked like, what he sounded like, but something about him made my stomach flutter.

“I’m sure Dr. Reid would be interested in meeting you, as well. He takes special interest in anyone pursuing our line of work.” Blake added. She didn’t mean for it to happen, but the words made my cheeks light up with a hint of embarrassment.

I don’t know why, but he intimidated the hell out of me. The idea of him taking interest in a conversation with me made my heart beat slightly faster, and I nodded. I tried to convince myself that my nerves came from a purely professional standpoint, but regardless of my intentions, I was absolutely exhilarated by our imminent meeting.

While I knew there'd be initial awkwardness when I'd meet him, given my idolization of the man, I didn’t account for how terrible it’d actually be when I realized how fucking attractive he was. It was almost unfair. I was already tripping over the words I planned on saying in my head, and now he looked like that?

It was cruel.

The soft, doe eyes paired with sharp cheekbones. The slope of his nose, and the mess of brown curls atop his head. Every word out of his mouth was made even prettier by the soft curve and pinkness of his lips, and I found myself wanting to lunge over the table and kiss the hell out of him.

Needless to say, not the right thoughts to have about your professor’s (older) coworker.

While I was initially going to introduce myself to Dr. Reid before his lecture, hopefully establishing myself as a serious individual regarding my studies and eventual career, I shied away, opting for Blake to introduce me instead, nodding politely when he made eye contact with me, exchanging a quiet “hello” and taking my seat in the front.

That was it. And probably how it should be, considering I genuinely couldn’t think straight around him. Students began filtering in, and I took my spot at the front of the room, crossing my legs and beginning to outline his lecture as he began to speak.

He was a brilliant lecturer, and it was honestly criminal he didn’t do this for a living. He gesticulated wildly throughout the whole of it, but every word of his was punctuated with a genuine passion that even some of the best professors on campus lacked. I did my best to diligently keep up with every point he brought up, but with how fast he spoke, it was difficult. Still, an effort was made.

If that wasn’t enough to deal with, I swear the man kept making eye contact with me for the duration of his lecture. At first I believed I was imagining it, that his eyes kept drifting to mine by coincidence, but by the third time, I’d realized that everytime my eyes left his figure to scribble something, I’d look up to see his dark eyes boring into my soul, almost as if he was trying to solve me with a glance. It was intense and made my stomach turn in a way which wasn’t entirely unpleasurable, but I forced myself to remain professional.

Blake did not need to see me absolutely lusting after her coworker, even if he was utterly fit.

Anyway, he was probably only making eye contact considering I was in the front, and probably in an optimal spot for his eyes to focus on whilst addressing the whole of the class. Still, the way his gaze was trained on mine, reaching the deepest parts of my soul didn’t help the growing heat between my legs.

I forced myself to focus on the board, my notes, anything but those godforsaken eyes for the rest of the lecture. Anytime we made eye contact afterwards, I’d quickly look down, like I’d been caught doing something terrible.

Was anyone else seeing this? Was I insane and made delusional by my unexpected attraction to this man? Was he seriously making me wet just by looking at me?

Yes.

Sooner than anyone wanted, the lecture period had completed and Dr. Reid was finishing up. The students were absolutely enamored, especially the girls, as expected. Of course it wouldn’t be just me who’d noticed that in addition to being accomplished in his intelligence, he was also ridiculously easy on the eyes.

Blake stood in the corner, watching her students vacate the space, while some held back to talk to Dr. Reid as he packed his things. He seemed a bit shy at all the attention, but didn’t hesitate in explaining concepts to seemingly eager students, giving them all a soft, shy smile.

God help me, he was adorable. How was I falling for a man I’d never even spoken a word to?

I’d never left the classroom before Blake did, so as she stayed, I did as well, until the three of us were the only ones left in the room. Blake smiled, walking up to Dr. Reid with her hands in her pocket.

“You worked up quite the fanbase, Reid.” Blake said, a little playful.

Reid replied somewhat bashfully. “You have a great bunch of students.” He flashed a small smile at her as they spoke, still packing up his things.

The dynamic between my superior and the man was obviously sweet. They almost looked familial, which made sense. Blake had commented here and there that she managed to spend more time with the BAU with her actual family. I’m sure the latter was the same for Spencer. He probably had a doting girlfriend at home, ready to welcome him in her arms and I mentally kicked myself again for being so attracted to him.

He was nearly ten years older, for god’s sake! Enough! I screamed at myself.

I was brought out quite suddenly from my thoughts when Blake spoke in my direction. “This is (Y/N), my teaching assistant.” Reid came in my direction as I got up and approached him, offering a hand to me. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. Blake told me who you were, but we weren’t properly introduced.”

I gave a firm shake to his hand, which I noticed was calloused and smooth at the same time. God, even his hands were pretty. He had long, slender fingers with short-kept nails. They were veiny, and looked strong. I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like inside of me, buried in the heat of my core as I begged him for more.. more..

I forced the thought out of my head, only nodding again at the handsome man. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” I say, forcing myself to be professional.

Stop thinking about fucking him!

“Spencer works just fine.” He says, imparting a kind smile that nearly made my knees weak. Did he have any idea the embarrassing effect he was having on me?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blake looking at the two of us with a bit of a strange expression on her face. I let go of his hand and took a step back. Oh god. Could she tell? If she could, she said nothing. She gave us both a kind smile, before grabbing her own things.

“(Y/N)?” She called out, starting to walk to the door. “Mind locking up for me tonight?” She said, already throwing her keys to me.

“That’s fine by me.” I say, grabbing her keys mid-air. I was used to this. Blake often wanted to leave a bit quicker than I did, and I was more than happy to assist in any way possible. What I didn’t realize, was that this left me and Spencer in the room alone, something I wanted to avoid, considering how fucking awkward this man was rendering me with so much as a glance at me.

I heard Blake leave, and as she quietly closed the door behind her, I leaned against a desk, keeping my eyes down as Spencer continued to pack his own things. I tried to not let my gaze drift to him, as I waited for him to finish up.

I let my thoughts wander to the lecture, and couldn’t shake the feeling he’d evoked in me when he looked at me like that. This was honestly ridiculous. The man had barely spoken ten words to me, and here I was, absolutely mooning over him. It was a new low for me, but in my defense being a graduate student meant I didn’t have much time to get my .. needs fulfilled.

“That’s why” I convinced myself. I just hadn’t gotten laid in a really long time. Nothing more, nothing less.

“So, you’re a criminology student?” Spencer says, suddenly, breaking me out of my trance.

I looked up, nodding. I responded on pure habit and instinct. ‘Yes, I’m in the process of getting my Masters in Criminology.” I said, nearly robotic.

“That must be interesting.” Spencer replied, flashing me a sweet smile that caused an entirely new slew of butterflies to erupt in my stomach. “I never studied criminology specifically, but the classes I took interested me.”

“Blake told me you had three pHDs.” I acknowledged, trying to return his smile, but in all honesty, I probably looked like an idiot. I was nervous as hell, and hoped he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t my fault. He was awe-causing. A sight to behold, if you will, in intelligence and appearance.

He laughed good naturedly, “Yeah. Three.” He must’ve noticed the stars in my eyes, because he continues. “As well as a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Sociology. And I’m working on another in Philosophy.” He finishes with a smug, boyish type of smile.

What was previously stars in my eyes, was now full blown shock all over my face. “Wow, Spencer.” I said, a little dumb-struck. “That’s.. a lot.” I add, a little stupidly, giving him a little laugh.

He sweetly scratched his neck, revealing his self-consciousness. “Yeah? You think?” He says, a small smirk in his voice, and I laughed again. “You think I should stop after Philosophy?”

“Totally. Save some knowledge for us.” I teased. It was comfortable. He was surprisingly easy to get used to. He was affable, despite how daunting his knowledge was.

“Hey, you try graduating before you’re a teenager.” He defends himself, playfully. “Not much to do, really.”

I laugh. “I don’t know.” I say, throwing my hands up a little. “Play ball? Run around?” I joke, and he makes a face at that, scrunching up his nose.

“Not my thing.” He replies, smoothly, and I laugh.

“Alright, fine. Keep your degrees doctor man.” And he laughs at my joke. Like, a real laugh. I didn’t even find my own rhetoric particularly humorous, but knowing that I’d gotten him to react like that made my cheeks glow.

He finished packing the last of his things and slung his satchel bag over himself, starting to walk over to the door. I made sure to gather all my things, and walked to the door with him. He held it open for me, and I nodded my head in thanks, and he let it shut behind us. I turned around to lock it, using Blake’s keys and placing them in my bag securely, before looking at him.

“Well, Spencer. It was nice meeting you, thank you for the lecture it was-” I start, but he interrupts me.

“Can I walk you to your car?” He interjected, looking a little shy as he did. I smiled a little confusedly, wondering why he’d want to do so, but I gave him my answer, nonetheless.

“I don’t have a car. I usually take the bus back to my apartment.” I explained, smiling softly.

“The bus?” He says, quirking his mouth to the side. “Isn’t it a bit late for that?” He replies, a hint of concern in his voice.

I gave a little sigh, “I mean, it’s fine.” I say, trying to laugh a little. “I’ve done it before.” I add, attempting to ease the worry out of his voice. “It’s not that late.” I say, but he simply shakes his head.

“No way.” He says, still adamant on this. “I.. I can drive you home, if you’d like?” He says, his words going slightly on the higher pitch as he rolled out his proposal, and I gave a small grin at that.

“Really? If it’s a hassle I can seriously just take the bus. I wouldn’t want you to keep anyone waiting at home or-”

He interjects again. “No hassle. I promise. I want to.” He pauses, before adding, “No one at home. You’re probably going to be the last person I see today.” He seems to blush at his final admission, and my eyes widen in interest. No girlfriend? Score.

“Alright, Spencer.” I say, smiling again. “Lead the way.”

He led me to his car, an old-fashioned Volvo and I couldn’t help myself from gawking at it.

“God, you have a cool car too? Is there anything about you that isn’t interesting?” I say, aware I was probably stroking his ego a bit, but honestly I wanted to. The man was just so damn intriguing, and every new bit of information I learned about him only made me want to unravel the whole of him. To truly know him, in and out.

He laughed, using his keys to manually unlock the door. “Oh, trust me. I’m plenty boring. The car is probably my only saving grace.” He joked, and I laughed again as I got into the car.

“Oh, I highly doubt that, but if you say so.” I say, sweetly, and adding a light tone of flirtatiousness in my tone. He seems to blush at this again, and I begin to think about the events of day. The stares in class, the perpetual rosy tint on his cheeks that had been there since we began our conversation, the way he joked and laughed at my (admittedly, unfunny) jokes.

Oh god. Did he like me?

Only one way to find out.

As Spencer got in the car and began driving onto the main road, I looked at him, trying to put on my best, innocent smile. “So, you said you’re not going home to anyone?” I say, a softness to my tone, but an undeniable hunger in it as well.

“Uh.” He responds, that damned blush coming on, strong. “Yes.” He replies, nodding as he keeps his eyes on the road.

“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I ask, a bit forwardly.

Now he’s really blushing, stuttering a bit. “Oh, no. No girlfriend. Not much time, given the BAU and our schedule.” He said, almost clinically, and I nodded.

“I mean, Blake has a husband.” I point out, a little smugly.

“I guess.” He says, sighing a bit. “But, you know.” He says. He vaguely gestures to himself, and I look at him a little confused, tilting my head at him.

“Spencer, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” I say, with a little giggle. “But trust me, you’re absolutely gorgeous.” I continue, before I can stop myself.

He looks at me, giving me a soft smirk, and a raise of his eyebrows. He didn’t look uncomfortable, and honestly looked just as thrilled as I did, and I knew that this night had a good chance of going the way I wanted it too.

“Ah, you’re sweet.” Spencer replies, “But no. I just mean, I’m.. me. You know?” He says, trying to explain his (non-existent) shortcomings, but I just shake my head.

“You don’t give yourself much credit, you know?” I attempt to say with that amorous tone from before, but it was more overcome with genuine respect and admiration. “You’re smart, funny and nice to be around, I mean.” I pause. “Did you not see the absolute crowd of girls around you after the lecture? Trust me, Spencer. I bet you’re more than easy to be with, even easier to like.” The words rush out of me, and I watch him tentatively for his reaction to my words.

Instead of the sweet side smile he’d been offering me all night, he finally looked at me. The car had come to a stop at a red light, and his face was dangerously sexy as it was illuminated by the colored glow around us.

“And what do you think?” Spencer says, in a low tone, making direct eye contact with me.

I feel my stomach turn at the sudden directness in his words, his gaze nearly devouring me whole. I felt my mouth go dry and I swallow, trying to keep my tone steady.

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice having a slight shake to it.

“I mean, what do you think about me? Do you.. like me?” He says, licking his lips slightly, and the action causes the previous heat between my legs to come by in full force.

“Oh, I mean.” I say, my previous confidence dissipating in an instant. “Well, yes, Dr. Reid. Everyone liked you today.” I say, trying to give more of a conservative answer now.

The man had a way of making me feel totally comfortable around him, and then flipping the switches, rendering me dumb and stuttering. Like I was now.

“Oh, so I’m Doctor Reid now.” He says, clicking his tongue and saying the words with an air of lighthearted teasing, but I only bit my lip, hurriedly trying to explain myself.

“I mean, it's your title.” I say, quickly, trying to justify myself. “I mean, you said it yourself- three pHDs. It’d be pretty shitty to just discard the years taken to achieve that. Um. Well. You’re a genius so probably not as long, but still! Calling you doctor is a sign of respect for your accomplishments and-”

“You're cute.” He interrupts, and I look back at him to see his eyes back on the road, a cocky smile plastered on his face.

The light around us turned green, and he started the car. I picked at my nails slightly, trying not to display any more signs of nervousness around him. I wanted to do something with him, at least, and that couldn't happen if I was a bumbling mess.

We drove in relative silence for the next few minutes, as I tried to gather my thoughts and possibly continue what we’d been building up to these past few hours, but a quick glance at the windows and the road we were on caused me to furrow my brows.

“Oh, this isn’t the way to my apartment.” I remark absentmindedly, looking at the window beside me, then in front. “I live near the train station, off east?” I offer, expecting him to fully make a turn back towards the direction I’d prompted him towards, but he didn’t even flinch, continuing on the more secluded road we’d entered.

“I know.” He said, glancing at me once more, actually applying more pressure to the gas pedal, causing us to go faster down the terrain.

Okay, fuck. He was an FBI agent, so I didn’t have to worry about him murdering me, right? Wait, no, that’s stupid. He could probably get away with it. No! He’s Blake’s friend. Her coworker. For the goddamn FBI. He wouldn’t murder me. What the fuck was going on?

I watched as Spencer pulled off to the side of the road, darkness surrounding us entirely. There weren't any other cars around, and it was silent in the car before I bit my lip, and started to speak.

“Did I.. offend you?” I ask, cautiously. No reply. I try again. “Why did we stop?” I add, trying to test the waters with him to see what he was thinking at that moment.

“I thought I could wait before we got to your place, but I need to know now.” He replied, a sudden urgency in his voice. He turned towards me, watching me with a dark, intense gaze, similar to the one he'd given me in class that day. “Do you want me? Am I reading this wrong with you? Because if I am, we can completely forget it and I can drop you home but (Y/N)..” He paused. He made direct eye contact with me and once again I found myself wanting to swim in those dark eyes of his. “I want you.” He said, his voice low and raspy.

I didn't give it much thought as I gave into my urges and surged towards his lips the best I could in the car. He responded immediately, bringing me closer with his hands and placing them on either side of my face, moving his lips against mine in a perfected rhythm. I used my fingers to quickly undo my belt, before climbing over the console to sit in his lap, getting closer without our lips disconnected once. He understood my actions and intentions immediately, pulling the seat back so I could rest more comfortably in his lap as we continued to kiss.

I knotted my hands in his hair, giving an experimental tug which elicited a low moan from his mouth. I grinned against his lips and his hands moved from my face to his hips, bringing my clothed core to rest right against his growing bulge, which I immediately moved against. He let out a sharp breath as I did and broke the kiss.

“Oh god. I’m sorry.” He said, breathlessly, hands on my hips. “I don’t know what came over me and-”

He looked almost frantic, and incredibly guilty, so I quickly leaned in for a peck, stopping him mid sentence. I brought my hands to his shoulders to rub them soothingly, and he seemed to relax in my touch.

“Spencer, calm down.” I say, nearly purring. “I want this.” I continue, rubbing patterns into his arms now. “Please.”

“You’re Blake’s student.” He murmurs, using one of his hands to run through already messy brown curls. “What am I doing?” He says, almost to himself, looking ready to stop our tryst.

I realize he was attempting to backtrack from this, and before he could continue his train of thought, I quickly leaned in from my position on his lap to start kissing his neck, trailing wet hot kisses down the column before whispering. “I’m not her student.”

He pulls away to look at me, biting his lip. “What?”

“I was her student last semester. I’m her teaching assistant now.” I smirk a little, licking my lips. “Technically not a student of hers.”

He seemed to take in my words for a moment, and then something in him shifted, and he lunged at me again, kissing me with even more ferocity. He absolutely devoured me, his hands everywhere at this point. Caressing my sides, in my hair, on the small of my back. He brought me closer to him in any way he could, pressing our bodies against each other in a frenzied manner that caused the wetness between my legs to increase tenfold.

“Wanted you.. as soon as I saw you.” He murmurs against my lips as we caught our breath in between kisses. “Knew it was wrong but..”

I nodded. I understood. I was the same.

“Fuck.” I moaned, as I felt the bulge resting below me get even harder. “Spencer, please. Don’t make me wait.”

“Impatient.” He remarked, smirking, now beginning his own line of kisses down my neck, making me moan in pleasure.

“Please.” I breathed out, my words being reduced to a squeak as he bit my neck gently, and my eyes fluttered shut. I was melting right in his damn hands, just like he wanted.

His hands started to work at the buttons on my jeans, and I sighed in relief, lifting up my hips to allow them to be tugged off, leaving me in my underwear. His slender fingers traced the seam, leaving me shuddering with pleasure for the man in front of me. I tried once more, breathlessly murmuring at him.

“Please. Please.”

“Use your words, baby.” He whispered, a devilish smirk on his face. I was too far-gone to care about what I looked like. I needed him so badly.

“I need you to fuck me, now.” I say, clearer. “I need it, Spencer.”

Something about me using his name, nearly moaning for the man when he’d barely touched me stirred something in him, and he started to undo his own slacks, freeing his cock from the confines of his briefs. I watched in fascination as it sprung out, and took in a sharp breath of air. I licked my lips before making eye contact with him, begging for us to get on with it at this point. He nodded, understanding my desperation and I smiled dumbly, beginning to lift my hips. He guided his cock to my heat and placed his free hand on the small of my back, slowly guiding me down his member.

I moaned softly as I felt him enter me, providing me with the most delicious stretch. I threw my head back in pleasure as he brought both his hands to my hips urging me down.

“That’s it. God, fuck. You feel so good.” He moaned, which only made me want to take more of him. I lowered myself down a bit faster, and he released a heavy groan as his hips met mine. I whimpered slightly, his length filling me up perfectly. A thin sheen of sweat had gathered on my brow and I leaned my forehead, adjusting to his size.

“You good?” He breathed out, using his hand to brush a piece of hair that had stuck itself on my brow, and I nodded.

“Yeah, just.” I took a deep breath, before licking my lips, looking up before nodding.

I slowly lifted myself off, letting the head of his arousal nestle in me before I slammed back down, eliciting moans from both of us. He began to match my movements in tandem, thrusting up into me wildly. I held onto his shoulders, burying myself in his neck as we went faster. I could feel his tip hitting my cervix every time, causing me to cry out with pleasure every single time.

I felt my orgasm rapidly approach, and Spencer seemed to sense this as well, considering the involuntary clenches I was giving around his cock. He let his hand slip down to where our bodies met and rubbed tight, fast circles around my clit, encouraging my release.

“Come on, pretty girl. Come all over my cock. You can do it.” He breathed out, watching my every move with a hunger I'd never experienced before.

It took a few more thrusts from him, combined with the insistent fingers at my bundle of nerves before my thighs began shaking, and I let out a chorus of moans, most of them sounding like strangled versions of his name as I coated his cock in my wetness, spurring him on to go faster inside me, bucking into me like a man possessed.

He continued to jut into me wildly, until I felt him finish inside me, coating my walls with his release. He breathed shakily, holding me close to him as I slumped over his shoulder, my chest heaving up and down as I came down from the intensity of the previous moment.

He affectionately removed me from his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, the tenderness and gentleness in his actions contrary to what we had just done. I pulled back with a dazed smile, taking in how pretty he looked.

“If it’s alright, I’d love to take you out for coffee sometime.” He said, still a bit breathless, and a shy smile appeared on his face.

I giggled. He was literally still inside me, and was asking me out on a date with a boyish nervousness that made him even harder to resist.

“For you Dr Reid? Anything.”

ahh! writing this was a beast, and i imagined it to be longer but i got what i wanted in less words haha. i hope you guys liked this. any reblogs, comments, likes are so so appreciated i know it sounds totally stupid, but your guys' support means a lot lot lot!! thank you!!! <3

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mitsies · 6 months

Text

❊ be sweet - yuuta okkotsu . . there's no love quite like this one.

yuuta okkotsu returns home to the smell of ginger, root vegetables, and spice.

it's your night to cook dinner, and it seems like that's exactly what you've been doing. a pot of unidentifiable, fragrant broth is simmering over the stove. the kitchen is a little bit of a mess; it usually is on your turns to prepare dinner. a slight smile graces yuuta's face as he recalls you explaining it away as part of your 'method.'

you are, however, nowhere to be seen. the living room and kitchen of your shared apartment are recently deserted. you must've been here recently, though, and you should still be close, considering the heat on the stove and a newly lit candle settled on the kitchen counter by a vase of flowers. dropping his bag down in the corner of your shared apartment, yuuta is about to make his way to your bedroom to come look for you when he hears footsteps.

he knows they're yours. there's nothing of yours that he couldn't recognise. he'd know your footsteps anywhere. he'd know the way you exhaled, and he'd know every individual freckle or mole or scab or scar on your body. you're committed to his memory.

you don't notice him at first. instead of coming to greet him like you usually would, he watches as you make your way over to the kitchen from where he stands by the entrance to your shared apartment. you mill about the kitchen, sweeping away some preliminary food scraps— garlic peels, the tops of carrots, onion skins— into your palm, before depositing them into the waste bin. he likes to watch you cook. there's music coming from your phone; it's a song he showed you the other day. you hum along like you've loved it your whole life.

he could probably stay and watch you forever. to yuuta, there is magic in the way you move. pure, utter adoration; that's all he feels for you. but if there's one thing he loves more than simply being around you, it's talking to you, and he can't quite talk to you if you don't know he's there. he calls your name, delighting a little in the way your eyes widen and you swivel to face the direction of his voice almost right away.

"yuuta," you beam. your smile is one that might rival the sun and win. you walk over to him, onion skins still stuck to the palm of your hand, not like you'd notice. taking your boyfriend in an embrace, his hands cradle the back of your head like you're made of precious gemstone. his face is buried in your hair. you smell like root vegetables and home.

"hi," he mumbles into your scalp. you pull away, arms still loosely wrapped around him, and grin. "hi, yuuta. i was just about to call you. how long've you been here?"

"not long."

"good," you reply, finally releasing him and moving back to the kitchen, "dinner's almost ready. i'm trying a new recipe— yuuji told me about it. don't remember what it's called, though."

yuuta follows you, leaning on the counter with his forearms, gaze fixed on you. "it smells good."

"does it? i think i've gone nose blind. all i can smell is onion."

your boyfriend laughs, and you smile. he loves your smile.

a brief silence lapses. it's not uncomfortable, it never is. the sounds of a wooden spoon clanging around a pot and bubbling broth echo through the small kitchen. music still hums from your phone, which now lies discarded and forgotten about next to the candle. he notices the flame flicker a little too close to the flowers next to it. yuuta gingerly shifts the two away and blows the candle out— you'd likely forget to do it later.

the stove clicks as you turn the heat off. "i guess the last thing left to do is let it cool. that might be a while— can you wait?"

yuuta nods. "i need to change anyways."

you turn back to him, nimble fingers tugging at the sleeves of his white jacket. "how was your day?"

it's moments like this where he can forget the world. he can forget the horrors of his career, the tragedy of the world he was unable to save, if only just for a moment. he can chase happiness by its tail. he can find home. there are few things that bring him solace anymore; his friends, the few he can save, and you. he'd always have you. maybe the one person who could fully understand him. the one person he could be honest with.

and he knows he can trust in you. he knows you'll catch him if he falls. so he exhales, and lets himself breathe. "could've gone better."

you frown lightly. taking his face in both hands, you study his expression like you're searching for something. wordlessly, with all the gentleness of a saint, you lower his head into the crook of your neck. he's sure his breath tickles the skin exposed to it, but you're unflinching, unmoving. he feels safer than he ever has, with your hands roaming the planes of his broad back in comforting circles.

"i'm sorry," is all you say. he'll be okay, though. it'd be okay so long as he had you. and he pulls away, and smiles a little, and tells you just that.

he likes the way you look bashful all of a sudden, as if he wasn't yours forever. how long have the two of you known each other now? since he transferred into gojo satoru's class, years ago now. you'd been hesitant like the rest of them at first. but he'd fallen for you— your kindness, your occasional dramatics, your tendency to leave candles unattended near very flammable objects. and somehow, some way, it'd worked out. he used to be so shy, then. timid. he could be sometimes still, but yuuta likes to think that he's grown alongside you. the thought makes him smile. he chases that joy he finds in you. "tell me about your day. i hope you used your first break in forever well."

you give him a teasing, dirty look. "please. of course i did. i'd never choose to go to work."

he laughs again, because it's just so easy to do when he's around you. he loves you more than life, he thinks, as you explain how you and maki got stuck at a train station in kawasaki. while you talk, he picks a piece of vegetable out of your hair. no wonder you were smelling onion everywhere.

yuuta would always be there to look out for you. he'd be there to put out the candles you'd forget about, and clean up your messes, and love you unconditionally, always. and he knows you love him like that, too. you love him in the way you hold his head when he's not feeling his best, and you love him in the way you'd always greet him with a bright smile and a big hug, and you love him in ways he never thought of himself as deserving of.

and it's nights like these, yuuta thinks, that prove that there will be no kind of love to come close to this one.

flowers chosen: jasmine & daisy . . sweet love, amiability & innocence

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 2 years

Text

In Sickness and In Health

Synopsis: You fall ill while Childe's away, and while he might care about the Fatui’s missions, Foul Legacy doesn’t.

Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff Warnings: Being sick, mentions of pain, headaches, and difficulty breathing, worry, general suffering

~ * ~ As a Fatuus, Childe is often away from you. It’s his duty as the Eleventh Harbinger to carry out orders, completing missions in the name of the Tsaritsa while training young, eager recruits to grow into another member of Snezhnaya’s pride and joy. This he explained to you, over and over, before you had even begun to consider him more than a friend. He was so nervous at first, scared you would reject him, disgusted by his status as a Harbinger. It’s only when you finally moved to silently slip your hand into his that his voice faltered and trailed into silence, lips twisting in uncertainty before lifting into a relieved grin when you gave him a smile full of understanding. Since then the constant, nervous reminders of his position have faded away, replaced by dates of absences and return, one mission after another. It breaks his heart to be away so much, but you always wave off his apologies- his home isn’t the Harbor; it never has been, and as long as he returns, you’ll be alright. And yet no matter how dire the circumstances, Childe would always leave you with a kiss on the forehead and a whispered promise to spend time with you when he returns- anything you like, whether that be dinner, travel, or simply a walk. You’d always laugh and playfully hit his shoulder, unable to do any real damage. He knows what you want, you choose it every time, as the comforting arms of his Foul Legacy form around you are incomparable to anything else, the knowledge that Foul Legacy adores you as much as Childe does ensuring you a good night's sleep after weeks of worry. It makes him smile, seeing how much you love his Abyssal form. He wasn’t even aware Foul Legacy could feel emotions such as love, but the constant, rumbling purr in the back of his mind whenever you’re nearby says otherwise, and his hand briefly rests in your hair before he’s forced to pull away. You’re there when he boards the ship to his destination, smiling and waving goodbye, and his subordinates swear they see the famed Tartaglia’s eyes sparkle as he waves back to his dearest secret standing on the shore. Childe’s only joy in the coming weeks are the letters you send, detailing your normal, mundane life as well as how much you miss him. It’s the only time he genuinely smiles, normally confident smirk gone from his face as an agent hands him a letter almost daily, although they’ve been sparser lately. He opens today’s letter eagerly, making sure not to tear the paper, but his expression morphs into one of confusion when he sees the short, terse paragraph in elegant writing. Zhongli, it must be- Childe knows that script anywhere- and his dull eyes widen in horror as he reads the message. You’re sick. Extremely sick. Zhongli’s been tending to you for a few days, but your fever refuses to go down and the only thing you say when awake is how much everything hurts, mumbling Childe’s name whenever you slip into uneasy dreams. Zhongli assures him that he’ll do his best to take care of and hopefully lift you out of sickness before Childe returns, but that doesn’t prevent his stomach from twisting into a knot of guilt as he thinks of you suffering without him by your side. Foul Legacy whines in his head, to the point Childe can almost see the Abyssal beast curling his claws anxiously as he urges the Harbinger to return home, wherever you are. Childe grits his teeth as he folds Zhongli’s letter; obviously he’d love to go back to the Harbor, but his duties have taken him across the sea, miles away from you, and even if he could go back he wouldn’t dare leave his duties and reveal you as his beloved- the mere thought of the danger you’d be in sends a shiver down his spine. Foul Legacy’s whines turn to hisses, repeatedly insisting to go home, go back, go HELP! And Childe throws his hands up in frustration. “I can’t!” He says aloud, trying to placate the monster clawing at the edges of his mind while his own thoughts race with worry for you. Foul Legacy falls silent, and for a moment Childe thinks he’s won the argument, before he hears a sudden, deadly growl. If you won’t, then I will. There’s barely time to blink before Foul Legacy assumes control of their shared body, inhaling the crisp air and flexing his talons. Without a backward glance he leaves, star-speckled wings spreading and catching the seaborn wind. The agents will awaken to their Harbinger missing, but Foul Legacy doesn’t care- the Fatui’s petty problems are unimportant compared to your pain. His haste is so great that he reaches Liyue Harbor just as the sun is setting, touching down carefully outside your back door to avoid the late-afternoon Millelith. The door’s unlocked, a foreign scent leading inside, and with a growl Foul Legacy enters your home, gaze landing on Zhongli who whirls around in shock. The ex-Archon exhales in relief when he sees Foul Legacy, moving aside to reveal your frail body curled on a bed, fingers clenching the sheets in discomfort. A frantic cry tears itself from Foul Legacy’s throat, rushing past Zhongli to kneel by your side, claws hovering over you, unsure where to place themselves. Zhongli pats his shoulder, trying to reassure the Abyssal monster, and the commotion shakes you from slumber and into unsteady wakefulness, dazedly looking at your love. This must be a dream, it has to be. Childe’s somewhere overseas, completing his latest task for the Tsaritsa; he shouldn’t be back for weeks. And yet, Foul Legacy stares at you, crystalline eye flooded with concern as his whines dip, with some effort, to gentle purrs and he slowly extends a hand to you. “Legacy…” You catch one of his claws in a weak grip, fingers wrapping loosely around the talon before falling back to the mattress, and Foul Legacy whimpers at your lack of strength. Archons, you’re so frail- just how long had you been suffering before Zhongli wrote to him? His hand brushes against your forehead, only to immediately recoil when your skin burns with sickening warmth, far beyond a healthy range. Your eyes flutter shut, too exhausted to stay awake but comforted by the presence of the one you hold dear. Foul Legacy watches you drift into an uneasy sleep, absentmindedly playing with your hair. His touch calms your fevered dreams, and soon your features relax into an expression more peaceful than Zhongli’s seen in days. Legacy’s gentle coos turn to a low hiss as he turns to face the funeral consultant, keeping his claws gentle but his glare steady and pointing at you with his other hand. “Fix. Help. Heal.” And Zhongli simply nods, moving to fetch today’s dose of medication. When he returns, Foul Legacy has curled around your body, cradling your head against his chest and holding your limp hands. The room fills with soft, soothing purrs, refusing to pause even when Zhongli tilts your chin upwards so you swallow the bitter medicine. It tastes like mint and ginger in your dreams, and you nearly spit it out, but the gentle hand petting your hair urges you not to as you lapse back into slumber. From then on Foul Legacy never leaves your side. Day and night he tends to you, comforting your twisted dreams and giving you medicine and making you drink water, when he can. More often than not you feel his cool talons settle on your cheeks and forehead to stave off the heat, and in the fleeting moments you’re awake you can make out his figure keeping you company, claws wrapped around your hands and wings laying over your body like gauzy blankets. His routine is to care for you and nothing less, directed by the vague memories of when Childe’s own siblings were ill, and even when Zhongli stops by, the Abyssal monster refuses to leave you. In a way, Zhongli’s grateful- surprised, yes, but also grateful for the help. He could already see how your condition improved simply by having Foul Legacy tend to you, your breaths coming out easier and sleep being far more peaceful. When you’re in pain, Foul Legacy is too- and on nights when your head feels like it’s splitting open from agony and you can do nothing but cry, he cries with you, attempting to coo and reassure you only to break out into full sobs at the sight of your suffering. But such nights become few and far between the longer he stays, and soon he sleeps the starlit hours away alongside you, the need for constant supervision diminished. He’s napping by your side the day you wake up, tired but lucid, and cup his cheeks in your hands. Foul Legacy jolts awake with a surprised chirp, staring at you like he can’t really believe that you’re here, awake with your consciousness intact, giving him a sleepy smile. “Hi…” Legacy cries out and swoops down to bundle you in his arms, burying his face into your neck with overjoyed clicks and croons. You’re still fragile- he can feel it from the way you lean against him as you thread your fingers through your hair- but you’re alright, you’re okay, and you’ll only get better from here on out. With a tenderness only you’ve had the right of knowing, he sets you back down, the bed cushioning your aching bones, and you open up your arms towards him as an invitation. With a delighted trill he accepts and cuddles against you, claws wrapped securely around your waist and head nudging underneath your chin to make small, hoarse chuckles bubble out of you for the first time in weeks. Your laughter is the sweetest melody to his ears, and Foul Legacy purrs blissfully at the sound. Eventually your hands begin to slow, going from scritches to long, languid pets as sleep tries to pull you back under, fighting against it to no avail. Foul Legacy simply pulls you closer, slotting your body against his as he strokes your arms; his permission to wander back into unconsciousness. You yawn, snuggling impossibly closer and latching onto the scarf that hangs around his neck with a sleepy mumble of goodnight, before peaceful dreams inevitably claim you again. With a soft, affectionate rumble, Legacy pulls the covers over both of you and allows your quiet breathing to lull him to sleep, too, where you can both finally rest. “Love you…” It’s the sun instead of pain that wakes you, filtering through a space in your curtains and bathing you in golden light. You stretch, delicately, and crane your neck towards the Harbinger dozing beside you, before nudging him with a mischievous grin. Childe mumbles, blinking tiredly- it feels like he’s been asleep for days, the only thing on his mind being the murmur from an exhausted but happy Foul Legacy- and when he turns he’s met with the sight of you, the effects of your illness still present but almost invisible due to the smile on your face. “Good morning.”

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goosewithtwoos · 8 days

Text

TOO SWEET

pairing: bob x reader

summary: bobs just too sweet

“You’re just,” you struggle to find the right words. “too sweet.”

Bob furrows his brow. “Too sweet?” He asks, placing down his tea.

“Yeah, that’s you’re problem. You’re too sweet. You let people walk over you. You need to have a bit of a backbone if you want to be respected.” You explain.

The two of you were sitting in his living room, having just come back from a morning run. You hated cardio - weight lifting was a much better workout in your opinion - but Bob was a runner and had wanted you to join him for a run for so long you finally gave in.

His Naval Academy shirt was faded in stark contrast to his blue PT shorts. You’d never be caught dead in PT uniform outside of the work day but somehow he made it work.

During the run, he had been explaining how this new command was trying to keep him from hops and began training him as an unmanned aircraft system operator. Of course, it was nice to have this extra knowledge but he was a WSO and should be treated as such. He talked for most of the run, mainly because you couldn’t speak for more than three sentences without getting winded, so now was your time to offer advice.

“There’s nothing wrong with being firm.” You sip your now lukewarm coffee, making a flippant gesture with your hand.

Bob shifted in his seat. “I don’t want to seem belligerent. It is a good opportunity.”

“But it’s keeping you from your primary job.” You roll your eyes. “Come on, Bobby, you don’t actually want to be some drone operator, do you?”

His eyes dipped. “No.”

“There you go!” You exclaim. “Tell them that. Exactly like that. You want to be a WSO. You’re amazing at your job anyways, they’d be stupid to keep you from it.”

A light dust of pink began to cover Bobs’ cheeks. You knew he had a hard time receiving compliments and always tried to brush them off. Your current attempts at getting him to accept compliments was exposure therapy and you tried to interject as many as possible during your conversations.

“I’m not that good…” He mumbles into his tea as he takes another sip.

You snap your fingers at him, shaking your head. “This is what I mean. You’re letting people get into your head. Take the compliment.” He dipped his head lower, taking another lengthy sip to avoid speaking. “This is where you say, ‘You’re right’ and ‘Thank you, I know I’m amazing’.”

“I can’t say that if it’s not true.”

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to kill him or squish him. He was so adorable and yet made you want to pull your hair out. It was quite a confusing mix.

“Robert. For once, if you’ve ever loved me, take the compliment.” You say, placing down your cup.

He shrugs a little which makes you gasp in mock horror before he smiles. “Of course I love you but it’s just hard to accept.”

You shrink back in your seat, crossing your legs. “Who hurt you?” You mumble more to yourself than to him. “Have you ever taken a compliment?”

“Of course!” He cries.

You raise a brow. “Three examples, now.”

“One, when I received my acceptance to the Academy and had my college counselor beaming with pride. She told me I had done well.” He looked proud of himself remembering that one. “Two, when I graduated and my grandmother came to see me, she said that I was the smartest in the family. And three, when I-“ His voice cut off and his ears went red.

“When?” You press, leaning forward ever so slightly.

He waves you off. “Let me think of something else. It was a bad example.”

“No, no, no,” you push. “Tell me.”

He turned away, unable to meet your eyes. “When I…I went…” his voice was growing smaller by the second. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand ever so slightly before finishing the statement. “on a girl and she called me a good boy.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter that came out of you. You’d never assumed Bob would have a praise kink, and especially not one that consisted of him being called a good boy.

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Bob was completely red by this point, opting to drink his tea rather than respond.

“I mean, were you being a good boy?” He chokes.

Sputtering, he looks at you, eyes full of panic. “I can’t answer that!”

“Oh, come on, you can tell me. I told you about my…incidents.” Incidents was a polite way to put it. Bob was the first person you’d go to whenever something had gone awry during on of your hookups due to his understanding and nonjudgmental nature. No matter what you’d say, he’d listen and nod, telling you it was always the mans fault and even though you might have called him someone else’s name, it was his problem for not having a more memorable name.

“I think I was.” He says quietly, shrugging ever so slightly.

“I bet you were.” You hum, finishing off your coffee.

Bob just stares, eyes wide and lips slightly apart. His breath hitched as he tried to form a coherent sentence. A sound that slightly resembles “Huh?” come from him and you roll your eyes.

“You’re always such a good boy, Bobby.” You mean it as a joke. You were saying it in a slightly mocking tone. So why did the words feel so right? Why were they so smooth on your lips? And why - God, why - did they seem to have such an impact on both you and him?

Something changed in his eyes. They glossed over with a feeling you didn’t think you’d ever see in him. Desire. Need.

“Say it again.” It wasn’t a question, he was demanding. Damn his pretty blue eyes.

You swallow hard. This had implications. You could tell how badly he needed it and what it was doing to him. You didn’t want to just fuck with his emotions. But you did mean it. He was a good boy. He’d always helped you with reports and post-flight write ups. He always went out of his way to make sure you were okay. He was such a good boy.

“You’re a good boy.”

His breath was coming out a bit harder now, and his hands had curled into fists like he was trying to keep himself from reaching out and touching you. Not like that would have been a bad thing.

“Can…” His voice failed him. He tried again. “Can I show you?”

“Show me how you’re a good boy?” You ask. Your heart was starting to race. You’d never seen this side of him before. He nods fervently. “Okay.”

It was barely a whisper. You weren’t even sure if a sound came out or you’d just mouthed the words but once you’d said them, that was all he needed.

He grabs you by the back of the head, tangling his fingers through your hair, and pulls you into a lip bruising kiss. This was definitely not sweet. This was needy, urgent, like he wanted to devour you. You kissed back, allowing yourself to melt into him. He was taking and you’d give him everything.

He leaned farther into you, pressing you backwards until you were laying on the couch. He was over you, pressing all his body weight down, and you could feel what suspiciously felt like him grinding against your thigh.

Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Your hips buck up, desperately trying to chase the friction against him.

His glasses felt cold against your skin and you smiled ever so slightly.

He moans into your mouth and pulls a hand from your hair down to your chest. Your hands grip into his shirt as he paws at you, feeling your ribs, waist, hips, anything he can get his hands on.

“Need to taste you.” He groans out, like it was paining him not to be nose deep within you. “Bet you taste so good.”

You’d never seen a man so worked up before. Bob was panting like he was in heat. And it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“I’m still sweaty.” You say between a laugh. He moved down to your neck, nipping at the soft skin, finding any open area and leaving a mark. He groans, pressing himself down against your thigh again.

“Bet it just makes you taste better.”

Your mind was short circuiting. Was this really the same Bob who once cried while watching a nature documentary because a penguin carried around a rock instead of an egg? The same Bob who called you when he got drunk to confess that he’d once stolen a phone charger from some gas station during a cross country trip when he’d lost his wallet at a Waffle House? Somehow, it was.

And this same Bob was pushing your shirt up and pulling your shorts down.

He looks up at you and it was a sight to behold. His mouth was slightly ajar, and his pupils blown completely wide.

“Hold these?” He asks, taking off his glasses and passing them up to you. You put them on, more as a joke than anything, but the moment he saw you wearing them, he surges forwards and kisses you again.

“So pretty.” He moans. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

You would normally feel self conscious but something about him made you feel so safe and secure. You trusted him with everything. He really was -

“Such a good boy.” You murmur as he began sliding down your body again. He stops, dropping his head so his forehead presses against your lower abdomen.

“Again.” He whispers. You could feel his breath tickling ever so slightly.

“Fuck, Robert, you’re such a good boy.” Your hand runs through his hair, pulling slightly before letting go.

He lets out a whimper before getting back to the task at hand, removing your shorts entirely, leaving you in just your underwear with your shirt pushed all the way up. He finds his place between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. It probably wasn’t the most comfortable position for him but in that moment, you were sure he couldn’t care less.

He licks you through your panties, moaning when your legs tense around his head.

“Please.” You moan when his tongue presses especially well against your clit. “Need you so bad.”

He eyes flit up to yours again, his glasses having fallen partially down your face so you could see just over the rims, and it was a miracle you didn’t come right then and there.

Feral, a man possessed.

He doesn’t even bother taking them off properly, he just pulls your panties to the side and dives in.

It was good. God, it was so fucking good. Your hand finds his hair again, pulling him impossibly closer to you. It was like he knew your body better than you did, the way he could alternate between fucking you with his tongue to sucking on your clit.

“Fuck, Robert,” you cry out. “You’re such a good boy. Oh my God, so good. Such a good boy, holy shit.” You were babbling at this point, the words didn’t make much sense in your mind but your mouth just kept moving. “My sweet boy, my good boy, fuck honey, you’re amazing.”

He pulls away and you want to cry. He presses kisses against your thigh while you try to remember how to breath properly.

“You taste so good. Wanna keep you here forever so I can have this forever.” He says.

You nod in agreement. “Please. You can. Anytime you want.”

His groan sends vibrations through you. You’re mind is a daze. Your hand cups his cheek, gently rubbing the side of his face. His stubble feels rough under your skin but the coarseness only makes your heart swell more.

“Gonna make me come like a good boy?” You ask, voice barely a whisper.

He responds by diving back in, tongue licking up your slit, collecting your wetness on his lips. Your back arches again, hips bucking. His glasses begin to slip off but your mind can’t care about anything other than the man who’s head is currently between your legs, showing you more pleasure than any man has shown you before.

He wraps his arm around so that his hands are free and you can feel his biceps tensing under your legs. The thought of his muscles had never turned you on before but suddenly, it caused a rush of heat to shoot through you.

His thumb comes down to play with your clit while his mouth still works your slit. The light teasing circles from his finger was such a different feeling from how his relentless and eager tongue was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel that cool in your stomach tightening. Your hips were bucking more frequently and when you felt his index finger run across your folds, you knew you were a goner.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Robert, please.” You moan.

“You don’t gotta beg.” He tells you, resting his head on your thigh for a moment, taking you in. His fingers were still working you, keeping you right on the edge. “I’ll give you everything you need.” His accent was thicker than normal and you wanted to see just how deep it could get. Another time though, you didn’t want any distractions from this current event.

When his mouth connects with your clit, you swear it was a religious experience, and you were coming before you even realized it.

“Good boy, good boy, good boy.” You keep repeating as he works you down from your high. Finally, once he deems you to be clean enough, he lifts his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you uh…do you want anything for yourself?”

He looks to the side sheepishly. “I’m…good.” You sit up quickly and look at him. A wet spot stains his crotch just barely visible in his PT shorts. The thought of him coming just from eating you out sends another wave through you.

Perhaps a five minute intermission before round two wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

#top gun smut #bob floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader smut #top gun maverick #top gun #bob floyd fucks #top gun x reader #tgm #tgm smut #i love bob so much y’all don’t understand

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highdreaming · 1 year

Text

Eyes off her

💢 All the works are pure fictions, for entertainment purposes only so please, read it at your own will.

Summary: Your boyfriend gets jealous when someone flirts with you and a fight follows.

Find more at: Masterlist

Gavi x (female) reader

AN: Please like, reblog and give me feedback!

You twist your hands with nervousness as you wait for Gavi in the corridor.

The whole stadium vibrates with the loud cheers of the fans, everyone is excited for tonight’s big game and you feel the same way, wishing Gavi’s team to win. You wait for your boyfriend to show up, wanting to wish him good luck before the game.

And he finally appears, pulling you towards him for a hug, a huge grin decorating his face.

“Hey. Good luck, babe. I hope you guys win.” you say, kissing his cheek. Gavi’s arm suddenly tightens around you and as you struggle to pull away, you notice the sudden tense expression on his face as he looks to the front.

You turn your head, catching a glimpse of a tall man from the other team staring at you, more specifically at your lower back with a cocky smirk on his face.

Your eyes meet his for a second and he provocatively winks at you before turning around and walking away.

That explains Gavi’s reaction. You hold back a sigh, knowing how riled up your boyfriend gets, especially during games.

“Babe, just ignore him.” you mutter, placing a hand on Gavi’s arm. Your words don’t seem to convince him but he gives you a rushed kiss before leaving to join the other boys for the game.

You only hope he doesn’t let jealousy get the best of him.

The game is dominated by Barcelona, your boyfriend’s team clearly being the best and it shows as they’re the ones leading, marking several goals.

Your hands constantly pick the material of your Barcelona’s number 30 jersey, the excitement and nervousness of the game giving you a hard time.

Especially when Gavi keeps committing fouls, all of them directed towards the player that had checked you out earlier. The referee keeps showing him yellow cards and you’re already dreading the moment Gavi gets a red card.

Just as that thought crosses your mind, whistles erupt wildly across the stadium with everyone pointing towards a commotion on the field.

Your eyes widen with horror when you notice that Gavi is in the center of it, violently pushing the other player. Both teams and its players get in the middle, attempting to stop it, but they’re unable to prevent Gavi from punching him in the face.

You gasp in horror, your heart crazily beating as the referee pulls out a red card, showing it towards Gavi. His face is contorted in an angry frown, face glistening with sweat.

He stomps the grass, leaving the field under intense boos. You hurry up leaving the stands, running towards the inside of the building.

Once you get to the locker room, you push the door open. Inside Gavi is sitting on a stool, throwing his shirt to the floor with a violent movement.

You hesitate for a moment, seeing him so angry but slowly take small steps towards him.

“Hey, are you okay?” you whisper, letting your hand stroke his hair. His shoulders slump and he looks at you, fury and jealousy burning in his gaze.

“He was fucking talking about you! Like you were a piece of meat, like you weren’t my girlfriend.” he growls, brown hair falling down to his eyes as he literally vibrates with anger.

You hold back a sigh, already knowing that the player only did so to upset Gavi. Everyone knows that your boyfriend easily loses his cool.

“He did that to make you upset, Gavi. You shouldn’t have listened to him. Now you’ve got a red card.” you say with a sad smile.

Gavi meets your eyes, intently looking at you, brows furrowed.

“So I was just supposed to let him talk like that about you? That wasn’t gonna happen.” he blurts out, hand reaching to grab your own, pulling you against him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, face pressed against your stomach. You take the chance to keep touching his hair, massaging his scalp as he takes deep frustrated breaths.

You're not sure how long you remain in this position, but Gavi eventually gets calmer, his breathing getting steady.

“I just love you too much.” he quietly whispers, pushing his face upwards. You meet his stare, his beautiful brown eyes holding an array of emotions.

“And I love you back.”

---

AN: I also think I'm gonna start writing for Haaland, what do you think?

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thatguywhofedme · 10 months

Text

A lardy death to go

Chapter 1

The first experience

It was your first day on the job as a food delivery driver

You were excited for it and it was a job you needed, but you also heard about the horror stories a delivery driver could go through sometimes and you were expecting the worst

But you know there was also a good side to your line of work, seeing all the food you could get after work, getting to know your area more and especially when it comes to meeting new people, you never know what could happen and that was part of the excitement

Your first day went pretty well, you had your run of the mill customers (guy who doesn't tip, Karen's,etc.) But you had one final delivery that popped up and it was a big one, you had to park your car backwards at McDonald's just so you can fit the entire order in, then it was just a matter of following the gps

You thought it could have been for a party or something like a normal person would think, but my god you were wrong

You got in the driveway and realized that there was only one van parked in front of the house and thought it was weird but okay

You approached the front door and rang on the doorbell

You heard someone yelling "the door is uuuuff unlocked, you can bring it into the UUURRPP living room"

With that said, you opened the door and thought to yourself that the voice sounded out of breath just from talking which was odd to you

When you entered the house and went into the living room, that's when it all became clear to you

You saw someone sitting on their couch, demolishing what could have been the third kfc bucket and licking their fat finger after finishing the last chicken breast

"Aaaaahhh thank you for BOOOAARRPP coming in, I hate heaving my FFFFRRRRRHHHHHTTT fat ass from the couch to pick up my order"

It wasn't hard to understand why, with that fat face being lowered by a double chin that resembled a stack of pancakes, arms bigger than your own thighs, a belly that was resting between some jiggly, meaty thighs completed with a gigantic ass that was wider than the person who's on top of it

It was your first time seeing someone this big outside of sometimes watching "my 600lbs life", but you weren't hating it, on the contrary, you became really excited and horny by the sight of this behemoth

"Of course, the pleasure is all mine and I can understand not wanting to move after a good meal" you said after winking at them

They became flustered and started rubbing their big belly

"Well, I'm glad we can agree on this, but don't you think for a second this was a "good meal" for me, that was just an appetizer" they said giggling

"Well in that case, you better order up, we wouldn't want you to go hungry" you said as you slapped their belly

"I'll be back when you order something else, don't keep me waiting"

You left as they were completely in shock while being incredibly turned on, so much so they started digging into the order you just brought up and stuff themselves silly no matter how dirty they became

You got in your car and we're also in shocked, especially because of how you acted towards them, so confident, dominant and controlling

You kind of scared yourself a little, but you felt amazing and you couldn't wait for the fat whale to order more so you can tell them to eat up

Chapter 2

The routine

You became a regular at their house, delivering feast after feast each day for them to stuff themselves

You were also becoming an unabler to their diet, buying butter and lard to make the orders a "little" more fattening for your own pleasure

They told you they used to weigh 523lbs when they met you, but now, after 8 months, they were now at 612lbs, which they couldn't be more happy about

She explained to you what a feedee and feeder was after you asked them why they were willing to gain so much weight and that's when you realized you were a feeder And loving it

One night after finishing your delivery and realizing they were your last one, you decided to stay a little longer and see if you could feed them yourself

You opened the door and got into the living room where you saw them eating like the slobby pig they are

Their belly was enormous, almost reaching their ankle when they sat down

Their face has become even fatter, so much so they were now slurring their words sometimes because of how much they've grown

Their ass has become a new shelf, with packs of leftover food laying on it

Literally everything on their body has grown much fatter

"Heeeyy gorgeous… I'm sho happy to see UUUUURRPPPP your sexy ass in FFFRRRHHHTT aaaaahhh my living room"

Without saying a word, you go over and feed them the rest of their huge burger with some "small" sausages on the side

You didn't even wait for them to finish eating, you stuff bite after bite in their mouth whether their ready or not

You could hear them moaning and you also got a lot hornier as the minutes passed by

After the burgers, it was time for the sausages

"UUUUFFFF please, I'm…. not….. sure BUUUAAAARRRRRRPPPP I'll be….. able to finish all….. of this……"

"Listen carefully, because I won't say it twice

you wanted me as your feeder, you got it, you wanted me to personally deliver all your food, you got it

But now, I want you to finish everything I brought for you, otherwise, let's just say the food you see is not the only thing that's gonna go in your mouth, I found other ways of making you eat you massive pig !!!"

They couldn't believe how more dominant you have become and with what you said, you heard them almost yell, but realize they had just came on the sofa

"I'm sorry, did you just cum without me letting you ?"

They bit their lip and looked at you, face all red and sweaty with terrified eyes, they knew they had fucked up, even if they truly couldn't control themselves around you

"I…I…….yes i did"

You took the huge sausages beside them and began forcing them in their mouth one by one

"You better swallow every last one of them, you're already in for a big punishment, but I still want you to eat all of them you greedy pig"

Has they started to choke a little from the sheer amount you were putting in their mouth, their cheeks becoming so swollen they were turning red and with them struggling to breath, you knew you were doing the right thing for them to grow at the pace you want

After all the sausages have gone through their gullet, you saw them puffing just from having to breath because of how painfully stuffed their stomach was

"HUFFF…..HUFF…..HUFF….FUCK….ME……PLEASE…..FFFFRRRRRHHHHHTTT"

you heard them yell at you as they couldn't speak quieter then that from how exhausting it would have been

You took their meaty, jiggly, cellulite riden thighs apart as much as you could and lifted their gut up with a lot of effort, but when your head went in between, you knew they were going to get it tonight, they couldn't have all this fat to play with and not have someone fuck them senseless

When you started doing your thing, you felt perfectly at home, you knew there had to be more, more fat to love, enjoy, fuck and jiggle

You simply needed to make them fatter, even fatter than in your wildest fantasies and you knew they felt the same way

Chapter 3

Life goes on.... For now....

It had been a year ever since you fucked them senseless and in that time, you wouldn't have imagined what would happen afterwards

You didn't just deliver to their house anymore, you're now their caretakers and live in their house

Helping them with everything 24/7

It could be something as simple as helping them get up from the bed using the railings connected to them and the bariatric walker, going in the shower with them as they put their wide ass on the shower chair that was specially fitted for them while you take a sponge and wash in between their many, many rolls of jiggly lard, as well as letting them know their doing an amazing job as your fat piggy with a little "helping hand" from under their now almost unreachable fupa

Or it could also mean helping them with the oxygen tank they need to have with them at all times if they don't want to pass out from the exhausting movement that is moving their near immobile body from one room to another by changing the bottles when their empty

In any case, you're there to make sure they eat more each meal and get fatter by the hours

Speaking of which, you've grown darker with every pound they've gained and every fantasy they told you

From getting treated like a literal pig by never taking a shower, eating from a trough, doing everything on the floor form eating to fucking and making piggy sounds to being so fat, their heart struggles and hurts all the time and to suffocate the pain they can only open their mouth and let everything flow through to relieve the pain

As you were preparing their next feast, you were mesmerized by the enormous sight on the broken couch

They had grown so much ever since you became their at home feeder

Especially since the last bariatric scale you've gotten, which had a capacity of 750lbs said "error" while trying to weigh them a couple of months ago

They were finishing up their second cake by hand like the good piggy they were, and even that was getting difficult from them as their arms were becoming really heavy with all that fat hanging and their fingers becoming too fat to make any kinds of movement

Their flabby chest hanging on both sides of their body while their stretchmarks riden belly was touching the floor as they're cellulite covered ass was taking the entirety of the couch

They were always out of breath no matter what they did, with all that lard crushing their insides, you could understand why they had their cannula at all times, but that's perfect, you thought they look beautiful with their unhealthy look, bite after bite nearing another heart attack

Yes, I did say another, two months ago, while getting funnel fed a lard shake and getting fucked by you, they started to say how tight their chest was becoming as they swallowed the liquid, but as they were about to finish, they started to touch their chest where their heart was

"HONN..UUUURRRPPP..EEYYYY…..my heart….it'sh beating really….fassht….I think…..FRRRTTHHH…thish..ish….it……AWWWWW FUCK"

You weren't scared at all, ok the contrary, you took the tube out of their mouth, took the pizza nearby and started force feeding them while their heart was giving out

"YESSS, that's the moment we've been waiting for

EAT !!!! I want you to eat everything I give you no matter how bad it hurts

I want to see your heart pop as you take your last breath doing what you do best, stuffing your pig mouth"

You heard a moan escaping their mouth as they were clutching their heart, swallowing as fast as they could as you fed them with no signs of mercy

But after a while, they seem to have regained their composure and their heart wasn't hurting as much anymore

"HUFFFF….you know…..what…that meansh…?"

"What's that gorgeous ?"

"I'm not…..fat …..enough …yet…..feed…BOOOAARRPP……me….more…please

Feed…me….into my….early grave…like the slobby….mmmh…disgusting……piggy I am…..oink….oink"

From that day on, you've been even more unforgetful whit your feeding method

You've been putting weight gain powder,lard and melted butter in EVERYTHING

They were all but too happy to oblige and take everything you were giving them

You both knew there was no coming back, you had to make them so fat justovijg a little would cause some the risk of another heart attack to appear

You had to close those arteries and cover their heart in unhealthy coats of fat

You had to make them as unhealthy as possible no matter what it took

This is your piggy and the fun was just getting started

Chapter 4

The fatal one

As you walk through the hallway with your trolley with gallons of lard shakes, you realized how lucky you are of having the life you got

You're the caretaker to an immobile piggy who hasn't moved in a long time, their health getting worse by the day just the like you both want, it's gotten so bad that you had to fit a mechanized crane on top of them if you wanted to clean them or fucked them

Their health was now a mountain of obesity related issues

Ranging from at least type 2 diabetes, hypertension that as gone through the roof, multiple strokes a year which they called "ooopsies" which was the cutest name for them, their breathing was now so bad, the cpap was struggling to feed them fresh air

All in all, you've done an amazing job of feeding them without any restrictions and they did their part of keeping that belly packed to the point of exploding at any given time

You both knew they were certainly on the verge of having "the big one" as you called it as you entered their fully furnished bariatric room and looked at the display on top of them showing "1126 lbs" in bright red

"Hello there piggy, hope your ready for me to turn the feeding machine back on"

They could only blink as they couldn't really do anything anymore

Their body so completely engulfed by fat even talking was a restraint as the fat was pushing against their vocal cords and their arms were standing up, not because they wanted to, but because all the fat surrounding them was keeping them up with how much of the stuff there was

Their belly was so impressive it was spilling on both sides of their bariatric bed which was an achievement on itself

You've grown them to such an epic proportion even the bariatric bed was creaking just from how much weight there was to support

The bed's side rails had broken a long time just from the sheer force that was pushing on them when they tried to adjust themselves on the bed one last time before you both decided it was best to let the piggy themed face mask, which was both a feeding tube and an air cannula forcing as much oxygen as possible just for their lungs to feel something to work with, at all times to make them bloated at all times

You saw that the feeding tank was nearly empty, so you started taking the containers and pour the unhealthy liquid one after the other

You knew it was working when you hear a small moan coming front them meaning the flow was much better

After you were done, you sat on a nearby seat and started talking

"I know you don't have much time and you could die at any given times, which is why instead of being your bad death feeder, I wanted to thank you

Thank you for being your amazing self and becoming the fattest person to wanna eat themselves to death

Thank you for being the best feedee someone could ever ask for, you just kept on stuffing yourself no matter how hard it got or how bad it hurts,

But mostly, thank you for giving me this incredible opportunity, I couldn't have dreamed of a better life and it's all thanks to you

I love you and I'm by your side no matter what happens"

Tears started coming out and when you looked at them to see their reaction

They were also crying, their eyes getting red, the heart monitor going even faster

they were also trying to say something that was muffled by all the fat surrounding their face

You got up and told them

"Sorry baby, I couldn't hear you properly"

And in a very low whisper they said

'i…………..love …………..you………….too………."

You smiled, lifted their mask which hasn't been turned on yet and give them a passionate kiss

You were so happy in that moment and nothing could have changed that

But then, as the mask wasn't on them

They started to breath in an even more unsettling way

Their eyes started bulging as the hear monitor became ballistic with bpm's of 196 started showing

THIS WAS IT !!!!!!

You started the feeding machine back on and the lard began pouring again as they were truly struggling to stay alive, you were hornier than you've ever been and started straddling as much of their big belly as you could

Their face became reder and reder by the seconds, then it became purple with lard coming out of their mask as they struggle to swallow with what was happening

Until you saw the life in their eyes disappear and the heart monitor do a "beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee………" as you knew it had been fatal

Even as their body began turning white, you decided to let them machine on to finish the liquid

After 30 minutes, the tank was empty and the only part of their body with some color was their gut as you could see the redness of how bloated it was, but also surprised at the fact that it didn't explode from the inside

Unfortunately, after 9 years of being their feeder

it was all over

you were sad about it even if you knew this was coming a looooong time ago

You've lost them, but have accomplished your ultimate goal and their most important wish in life

feeding them to death

Chapter 5

Who's next ?!?

After what happened, you decided to go and not look back, not knowing what could have happened to you if you would have stayed until the police, medical crew and crane have arrived to lift their corpse out of their house

You kept it low key, out of the eye of anyone for 10 months, finding shelter in an old apartment building situated in a small town far away from where it all happened until you felt it was safe to go out again

You looked online for some news article about anything that could be related to you and them

Nothing ?

Surprisingly, no one as talked about it online, not even a news article

You were surprised but relieved at the same time

That's when you got out of your apartment and decided to go to the local grocery store for some supplies

You walked through the isles, looking for what you could have during the week

You were also reminiscing about your feedee while passing the lard on one of the shelves

You could never forget all the incredible experiences you've experienced while being with them

You smiled and chuckled remembering everything

Then, in one of the isle, your heart stopped

From the back, you saw a massive form on a mobility scooter, basket full of snacks and fattening food

You couldn't contain yourself from the sight of another morbidly obese person in front of you

It's been so long

You were craving it

The need to feed someone to another fatal heart attack

You found your next feedee and this time, you were going to make them even fatter

Even slobbier

Even more unhealthy

You had all the experience you needed and you were going to make this happen no matter what

This was the beginning to a new chapter of your life

You were more than ready for another piggy 🐽

#death feedee #death feederism #death feedist #death feeder #extremely obese #get me fatter #help me get fatter #immobile #immobile feedee #immobility #dark feedism #deathfeederism #death feedism #morbid feedism #looking for a feedee

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onestopfanficshop · 10 months

Text

babysitter's club

pairing/warnings: hobie brown x f!reader; she/her pronouns used! cursing, some smooching, potential misuse of british slang (i'm sorry brits 😭), no phonetic spelling of hobie's accent, mayday being chaotic and adorable, reader and hobie talk about their future (kids), hobie and reader get to pretend to be domestic homeowners for a night, absolutely illegal amounts of fluff

word count: 3k

author's note: WOW okay. this took me over two months (?!?) to write. this is what happens when you take summer classes to get ahead 😔 but ANYWAYS! i hope you guys enjoy this!

"Only give her the one with carrots and the apples if she gets really fussy, okay? Tonight is peas, and... she's made it very clear how she feels about peas, so, good luck," you heard Peter say, chuckling as he closed the fridge and explained more of Mayday's feeding schedule to Hobie.

"Do I look okay?" MJ asked, stealing your attention away from the scene in the kitchen as she fussed with her hair in the hallway mirror.

"You look absolutely perfect," you reassured her, slightly adjusting the necklace that she was wearing. "Make sure you don't forget your umbrella though; I heard it was supposed to rain."

You saw the boys approaching you two from the kitchen and broke out in a grin.

"You lovebirds have nothing to worry about. We'll take good care of Mayday. Right, Hob?" you said, glancing sideways at you him.

"Yes ma'am," he confirmed, giving you a two-finger salute.

"If you guys need anything, just call, okay?" MJ said over her shoulder, stepping through the door that Peter was holding open for her.

Do not call, Peter mouthed when MJ's back was turned, pointing his two fingers at his eyes and then pointing them at you two. You waited until the door closed before you started to giggle.

"Looks like somebody's trying to get shagged tonight," Hobie chuckled, leaning against the living room wall as Mayday giggled happily from where she was seated on her playmat.

"Hobie! There is a child here for crying out loud!" you say exasperated, swatting at his shoulder.

"What? It's not like she knows what that means, love," he responded, looking at you with a lazy grin.

"Can you just—at least attempt to behave, please? I'm not trying to babysit two babies tonight, thank you very much," you say, rolling your eyes as you plant your hands on your denim-clad hips, eyes raking over the messy state of the living room. You made a mental note to pick up Mayday's toys off the floor before MJ and Peter came back.

"Listen, all I'm saying is—,” he pauses, crouching down in front of Mayday and picking up a toy that she had dropped to give it back to her. "If my theory's right—which it most definitely is—we'll be babysitting two babies in no time," he said mischievously.

"Oh my God. You did not just say that," you said, moving to sit cross-legged to the side of Mayday. You tried to stay serious, but you're unable to stop the smile spreading across your face.

"I'm only teasing, promise," Hobie grinned. "You wanna order in?"

"Already did. Wanted to be 100% certain that I was the one who ordered," you say, learning to the side a little as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and unlocked it to check the status of your delivery.

"Yeah? Why's that?" Hobie asked innocently. Your thumbs pause their scrolling as you look up at Hobie, utterly unamused.

"Because I absolutely will not be bombarded with those ridiculously spicy wings you got for us last time. Genuinely unhinged behavior on your end to not warn me," you say, shuddering as you recall the horrors that your tongue experienced last week. Hobie threw is head back as he laughed, watching your face curl up at the memory.

"Ah, I wish you could've seen it, May-May," he told the child, his face lighting up as he heard Mayday giggle upon hearing his laugh. "Her eyes were so bloody red, like this," he said, chuckling as he pointed to the sleeve on his shirt.

"He's exaggerating, honey; don't mind him," you say, tickling Mayday under the chin, causing her to laugh even more. "My eyes were not that red, Hob," you protested as you smiled at Mayday.

"They absolutely were. I have photo evidence," he rebutted.

"Wha—you took pictures?!" you ask incredulously, whipping your head towards him. "Hobie, I swear on everything, you better dele—"

You're interrupted by the sound of rapid knocking on the door, causing Mayday to make a startled noise as she fearfully grabbed at your arm with her tiny hands. Hobie made his way over to the door as you tried to soothe the girl.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, honey," you say soothingly, hoisting her up and holding her snug on your hip as you untangled your legs to stand up. "It's just the door, bub." You watched as Hobie kicked the door closed with one leg, balancing the pizza on one hand while he locked the door with his other hand.

"Dinner's served," Hobie said triumphantly, setting the box down on dining table.

"We gotta get you your dinner too, huh, May?" you said, gingerly setting her down in her high chair before you tugged open the fridge. You squinted, staring down the rows of puréed baby food before turning to Hobie. "Which one of these are we supposed to give to her again?" you ask, picking up one of the cold jars and turning it over in your hands.

"Tonight is P-E-A-S," Hobie says, recalling what Peter told him. He leans on the kitchen island with his forearms as he skims the paper with the list of instructions that MJ and Peter left for you two. "And then after that is her bath, and—"

"Why on Earth did you just spell pe—"

Your sentence is cut short by Hobie swiftly covering your mouth his his large hand, eyes going wide.

"She hates 'em," he whispered. "Even sayin' the word P-E-A-S throws her into a hissy fit."

"Okay, well—," you throw up your hands in disbelief before planting them on your hips. "When she sees the jar of green P-E-A-S, I'm pretty dam- dang sure that she's gonna know what they are," you pointed out, catching yourself before you swore as you tugged open the drawers to find a tiny spoon for Mayday.

"Nice save," Hobie said, smirking as he took a seat at the dinner table in front of the baby.

"Listen, if she's gonna be upset eating this, you have to be the one to feed her," you sighed. You pulled the jar out of fridge and set it down in front of Hobie, along with the spoon.

"Why me?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"Because she literally adores you?" you replied, as if it was common knowledge.

"Who doesn't?" he said, grinning.

"Alright, funny guy. We'll see if you're smiling when you have the 'vegetable-that-must-not-be-named' thrown all over you," you said, smirking as you opened the pizza box to help yourself. Hobie's hand covered the lid of the jar, and he gave it a firm twist, opening the jar with a pop.

"That's not very fair, love, innit?" he said, frowning at you as you got up to tuck a bib around Mayday's neck.

"It's actually very fair, in my opinion. This is payback for destroying my taste buds last week," you say, settling back into your chair and giving him an expectant look.

"You're never letting that go, eh?" he said, shaking his head. He scooped some of the food onto the baby-sized spoon, gauging Mayday's expression as he cautiously moved the spoon towards her mouth. The baby tentatively accepted the food, tasting it for a second before she scrunched up her face in disgust. Just like you predicted, she spit the food out of her mouth, nearly missing Hobie's shirt as she let out a short wail.

"Uh-oh," you say smugly, taking a bite out of one of your pizza slices. "You having fun yet?"

"May, c'mon," he pleaded with the infant, ignoring your quip. "S'not that bad, I promise," he said, trying to get her to take another spoonful. But Mayday remained defiant, turning her head to the side when Hobie brought the spoon to her mouth again as she let out little cries of frustration. He set the spoon down with a sigh.

"Man, why even make her eat this if she hates it?" he asked to no one in particular, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Kid’s clearly miffed. I say we give her the one with the apples n' the carrots."

"Absolutely not. You get babies on the sweeter stuff now, and they'll never touch vegetables again," you declare adamantly, sliding the baby food over to yourself. You turned around and grabbed a spoon out of the drawer behind you.

"Look, Mayday!" you say cheerfully. You grabbed the spoon, scooped out a bit of the purée, and slathered it on your pizza slice. You mentally prepared yourself for the taste before you took an exaggerated bite, and the infant watched you curiously.

"See? It's really good!" you reassure her, encouraging her to try a spoonful of her food again. This time, she accepted the food from you, although her face still scrunched up every time she took a bite.

"You're a bloody baby whisperer," Hobie said in awe. "Are sure she likes it now?" he asked, taking note of the faces Mayday was making.

"Yeah, she just—" you paused, scraping out the last of pea purée and feeing to her. "A baby's gag reflex is closer to the front of their mouth. That's why they'll sometimes make faces when they eat a new food. Doesn't mean they hate it; they're just trying to decide if they like it or not. Right Mayday?" you say. The baby cooed in response, drooling out a little bit of her dinner. You lifted up the corner of her bib and wiped off the food that had gotten around the corners, and Hobie grinned as he picked up the empty jar, rotating it around and showing it off to Mayday.

"Nice job, kid. Did all that on your own," he said grinning, holding his palm up for a high five (Mayday ended up missing his palm almost entirely, but when you have limited fine motor skills, it's the effort that counts).

"Good job, May!" you beamed, pinching her cheeks. "Alright, lets get you cleaned up for your bath, yeah? We gotta let Hobie eat," you tell her, picking her up from her high chair.

"Finally," he said with an exaggerated sigh.

"So unbelievably dramatic!" you called over your shoulder as you carried Mayday to the bathroom.

Bath time, thankfully, went relatively smoothly (well, minus the part where May tried to play the "water drums", which got an ungodly amount of water onto the floor and subsequently, onto you. You're 99% sure Hobie taught her to do that at some point and made another mental note to lecture him about it later). After you dried her up and got some lotion and baby powder on her, you changed her diaper before getting her into her pajamas. By this point, she was pretty exhausted, and you could see her little eyes fighting to stay open as you laid her down in her crib.

"You were awesome today, May. Get some shut-eye for me, okay?" you said softly, kissing the top of her head. She was already asleep before you even finished your sentence, and you smiled at her one last time before you turned off the lights and quietly shut the door.

Hobie's head turned away from the TV at the sound of your footsteps padding on the floor, and he looked like he was trying to hold in a laugh.

"You look like you've gone swimming," he remarked in an amused tone, looking you up and down.

"You try giving a hyperactive eleven month-old a bath," you reply, sighing as you plopped down next to him on the sofa. You looked down at the splashed cuffs of your jeans before shrugging. "It'll dry, right?"

"For sure," Hobie nodded. "But aren't most eleven month-olds hyperactive?"

"Yeah, but most eleven month-olds aren't Mayday," you say, chuckling as you leaned your head onto his shoulder.

"True that," he laughed, draping his arm across your shoulder.

You two sat in a few minutes of comfortable silence, watching as a random 90s romcom played on screen at a low volume before you spoke again.

"Hey, Hob?" you ask.

"Hm?" he responded, still half-focused on the movie.

"I'm gonna ask you something, and I want you to be honest," you say. You adjust your position so that you're lying on your back across Hobie's lap, hands folded on your chest. He tears his eyes away from the screen and gives you his full attention.

"What is it, love?" he asked, brows furrowing slightly as he looked down at you.

"Did you teach Mayday to play the drums with water?" you ask, fighting back a smile.

"No...," he said mischievously, raising his eyebrows at you.

"Hobie!" you exclaimed quietly, trying not to wake up Mayday as you slapped his thigh.

"Nah, I really didn't. Swear down," he said truthfully, laughing softly as he put his hands up in protest. "Really, you oughta be lookin' at Gwendy for that. She let the kid have a go at her drums once—it was adorable. I mean, also terrible, because she kept missing the actual drums, but still adorable."

"Oh my God, that is too cute. I would've paid money to see that," you replied, fighting back a yawn.

"Yeah? I think Pav and Miles got it on video. I'll have em' send it to you," he chuckled, tracing random shapes on your cheekbones with his thumb. "You tired?"

"Yeah, but...," (this time, you let out your yawn) "...don't let me fall asleep here. I still have to pick up May's toys and put them away. Don't want Peter and MJ coming back to a mess," you sighed.

"Already did that, love," he said. You let your head loll to the side as you looked at the corner of the living room—sure enough, the toys were all neatly put away in the toy chest, and Mayday's playmat was rolled up and tucked away.

"You're an actual lifesaver," you say. You're about to let your eyes relax before you remember another thing, shooting them open again.

"Shit. I gotta do the dishes," you say. You're about to sit up before Hobie plants a hand on your torso, gently pushing you back down.

"Took care of that, too. And recycled the box. And the jar," he tells you, grinning down at you. "I'm a world-class babysitter, c'mon now."

"And a world-class boyfriend," you say, smiling as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. He grabbed both sides of your face and started attacking your face with kisses as best he could at the awkward angle, causing you to let out a giggle.

"Hobie! You're gonna break your neck," you protest against his lips.

"Mm, small price to pay for getting to kiss you," he said, smiling.

"Nuh-uh, because then you'll have to get surgery, and you'll have to go through physical therapy, where they give you a bunch of instructions on what to do to get better, and we all know you hate being told what to do–"

"Alright, alright, point made," he laughed, giving you one last kiss before sitting up straight.

"God, I had no idea that taking care of a baby for a few hours would make me this tired," you sigh, rubbing at your eyes. "How on Earth do Peter and MJ manage to do it every single day?"

"Yeah... s'kinda mad when you really think about it," Hobie said pensively. "I mean, it's non-stop from the moment they're born 'til they move out. Guess you gotta take it day by day, yeah?"

You made a small sound of understanding, pondering what he said.

"How do you feel about... y'know, having kids? Like one day?" you ask quietly, craning your neck to up at him.

“Why? Are you…?” he trailed off, looking at your abdomen with raised eyebrows.

“Nonono, I’m not,” you reassured him, giggling. “I was just wondering.”

"Well, of course," he replied, sinking into the couch a bit more. "I love kids. I'd wanna adopt a whole bunch of 'em. Don't know if I'd be any good at the whole parenting thing, but..." he trailed off, chuckling to himself.

"You would be. I can see the way you are with Mayday; you're practically a natural," you said decidedly. "Me on the other hand... I dunno."

"You don't know?" Hobie said, snorting out a laugh. You turned your head to look at him, frowning.

"Don't laugh at me!" you protested, swatting at his shoulder.

"M'not laughing at you, swear," he said. "It's just funny you're saying that because you were a natural with May. You'd be an amazing mum."

"Really?" you ask, craning to look up at him.

"Really," Hobie confirmed, planting a quick kiss on the tip of your nose. You started to giggle, but the sound was quickly drowned out by a loud clap of thunder in the distance. You sat upright, startled by the noise as you peered behind the couch at the windows, and you were met by the sight of a sudden downpour.

"Oh God... I really hope that didn't wake up—"

Right on cue, you and Hobie heard the static noise of Mayday wailing through the baby monitor. You sighed as Hobie gently untangled himself from you, patting your thigh twice.

"I'll go get her," he reassured you, leaving the living room and disappearing into the nursery. You flopped back down on the couch again, groaning when another clap of thunder struck a few seconds later. You heard the sound of Hobie's socks shuffling on the ground, causing you to sit up and turn your head. You were greeted by the sight of a sleepy and disgruntled Mayday, who was clinging to the collar of Hobie's worn t-shirt. Her hair was frazzled, and her poor eyes were red from all the crying.

"Aw, it's alright, honey," you said soothingly. You outstretched your arms to Hobie, and he handed her to you to hold her. She curled up in a ball against your chest, watery blue eyes looking up at you as a few more lone sniffles came out.

"It's just a bit of thunder, love. You're alright as long as we're here, yeah?" Hobie chimed in. He sat next to you now, smoothing down the red hair on the baby's head in an attempt to calm her.

"You wanna stay here with us until the storm's over?" you asked gently. May let out a soft coo in response, so you took that as a yes. You grabbed the throw blanket that was sitting next to you on the couch and draped it across all three of you, and you let your head drop onto Hobie's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you and Mayday to tuck you both in. It wasn't long before the three of you fell into a peaceful sleep.

The door opened an hour later with the soft click of the door unlocking.

“Well, that was the most fun I’ve had in a while, honey,” Peter said, kissing the top of MJ’s forehead.

“Until it started pouring,” she replied, laughing. “What d’you think the kids are up to?”

Mary-Jane’s question was answered as soon as they rounded the corner. They were greeted by the sight of the three of you tangled up with the fluffy throw blanket hanging halfway off the couch. Hobie’s head rested on top of yours, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist. Your arms were around Mayday, who was sound asleep—a string of drool was dangling from her mouth, which was precariously close to landing on your jeans.

“Well, would you look at that,” Peter whispered, chuckling. He dug around in his pocket and grabbed his phone to snap a pic of the sweet scene in front of them.

“We’re definitely framing this.”

#hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x f!reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #across the spiderverse #astv hobie #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman atsv x reader

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yawnderu · 5 months

Note

I’ve been thinking… Simon from the haunted series as Yandere by Jazmin bean

IT JUST FITS SO WELL IN MY BRAIN IDK

GIRLLL I FUCKING LOVE THAT SONG EHJBJBHEFJEHBF Using Simon from my Haunted series<3

cw: mild gore, possessive Simon, obsessive Simon.

''Stay near and you''ll have nothing to fear.'' His instructions were clear once he taught you how to visit him in your dreams, able to see the horrors beyond your comprehension that exist outside of the human eye, their universe much more bizarre and interesting than yours.

You know how to get to him— he explained it hundreds of times, warning you that the other creatures will not be half as nice as him, yet listening was hard when you're absolutely mesmerized by a ballerina, her delicate yet strong movements so captivating that you don't even notice how you're walking closer and closer to her, alleyway getting narrower with each step you take closer to her, yet she seems to make do with the little space she has left. Like a moth to a flame, you get allured right into the deadly trap, mind fully blank except for the full focus on her alluring dance.

She only stops dancing once you're right in front of her, bony hands cupping your cheeks delicately as her face gets closer to yours, lips puckering as if prepared to give you a kiss. It's wrong— you know that much, yet you're completely paralyzed and at her mercy, unable to do anything other than looking at the way her lips part, mouth opening and revealing a sharp set of teeth, red eyes glistening with a need to hurt and a hunger that can only be satiated by you.

It happens so suddenly you don't even register the way her head gets smashed into the wall; brains splattered all over the place while the taller man looks down at you with narrowed eyes.

''I told you to come directly to me.'' His tone is harsh, yet you know it's full of laced concern for you. He knew it was a dumb fucking mistake to teach you how to lucid dream and get to his world, yet his obsession always took him to levels he didn't even know he was able to reach.

He hovers over you, chest against your face to get you to back away without touching you with his bloodied hands. It seems like an intimidation tactic— looking down at you and being as brooding as they come, but he's trying to avoid you looking at the now dead body of the other monster, her head completely destroyed on the floor. It works, as you back away with him until you're out of the dark alleyway, one of his arms wrapping over your shoulder and keeping you close.

''Don't look at anyone— don't even listen to anyone other than me.'' He knows the monsters in his world would do anything to get their hands on you, either feeding off of your energy or you as a whole, though Ghost will never allow that to happen. Your souls are bound for eternity, and he always protects what belongs to him.

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misseviehyde · 6 months

Text

IN YOUR DREAMS

Sarah knew she was dreaming again... or at least having THE nightmare. It was the same nightmare, the same one she always had.

The bully was everywhere. Sarah could smell her, feel her, taste her and hear her.

Yesssss, you're weak... you're so fucking pathetic. You can't even fight me in your dreams.

Sarah groaned in her sleep - her body drenched in sweat and her face a rictus of terror. Inside her own mind she was paralysed, unable to move as Khloe approached her with steady clops of her black thigh boots.

The bully was impossibly large and powerful. She towered over Sarah and her lips were a cruel smile of ecstasy. She was dressed in tight black clothing and gorgeous from head to toe. She was everything Sarah secretly wanted to be, but never could be. She was perfect.

Rich, powerful, dominant, spoiled. Khloe was a Goddess. She made Sarah feel so pathetic, so small and weak.

You know that I'm going to destroy your friends and your family too - I'm going to RUIN everything you hold dear. I'm going to take IT ALL. But first I'll start with making your greatest nightmares come true.

The bully laughed and advanced on the whimpering Sarah, her nails glinting as she turned her hand into a claw and reached out to her face.

I could tell you that this won't hurt much, but then I'd be lying. Mmmmmh, it's going to be a long night for you loser...

************

Sarah awoke screaming and clawing at her face where the sensation of Khloe's nails still itched and burned like fire.

She shuddered in horror at the memory - the sensation of being dominated and destroyed by the superior girl.

But it was only a dream right? Or rather, a nightmare. A recurring nightmare.

Sarah had been bullied at school, but Khloe was entirely a figment of her own inner fears and worries. She was an amalgam of every girl that had ever teased or taunted her. She was what Sarah hated and feared.

The dreams were so vivid. Khloe seemed more evil and powerful every time. Sarah was starting to worry maybe she was losing her mind. She'd always had a powerful imagination - but now it seemed over-active.

A knock at the door caused Sarah to startle and she smiled weakly as her boyfriend Sam came in with a steaming cup of fresh tea.

"Woah, you look exhausted. Bad dreams again?"

Sarah nodded and he sat down and slid his arm around her.

"I'm so sorry babe. I hate that you keep having these nightmares. I wish there was something I could do to help."

"I know," smiled Sarah as she squeezed his hand. "Hopefully they'll go away eventually."

Sam shook his head doubtfully. "Maybe, but I'm going to talk to my friend Kelly. She might have something that can help."

Sarah sighed, "Oh no, not Kelly who is into magic and all that stuff. Please don't tell me I'm so desperate I have to turn to all that spiritual mumbo-jumbo. Last time it took weeks to clean up the mess those weird candles made."

Sam laughed, "Kelly may be a little kooky, but some of her ideas have worked for me. We may as well try!"

Sarah smiled weakly at him and shrugged. "Well, okay then."

**********

Gazing at the strange web like frame of the dream-catcher, Sam wondered if it could really work, then shrugging finished nailing it into place above the bed. It was a circular contraption with brightly coloured threads stiched across the frame. Feathers hung from the bottom of the hoop.

He was a pretty open minded guy, but he wasn't sure if he believed in magic. Then again, perhaps the benefits of the dream-catcher were psychosomatic and it might still help.

So long as Sarah felt that it might work and her nightmares decreased, he was willing to try anything. He'd do anything to help his girl.

Kelly had explained that the dream catcher would catch bad dreams and nightmares in the web of coloured threads. They would then be burned up and destroyed in the pure natural sunlight the next day.

Sam had to admit he was actually fascinated by Sarah's dreams. He could never remember his dreams, he wasn't even sure he had any. It also entranced him to hear about other peoples and he wondered how it must feel to experience such vivid and surreal mental pictures.

His good work done, Sam tidied the bed, gave the dream catcher a whirl and went off to make a cup of tea. Now to test if it worked!

***********

Sam awoke to a strange feeling. It was like an electic storm or static charge was building in the air.

He'd gone to sleep nearly three hours ago, Sarah by his side and the dream catcher swinging over their heads. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully for once, but above them the dreamcatcher spun and twisted.

Something dark and evil was caught in that web. Sam could feel it. A bad dream... a POWERFULL bad dream was caught. The dreamcatcher seemed to spark with power and energy.

Fascinated he reached up and touched the dream catcher... there was a pink blast and Sam groaned as the world spun and he fell into darkness.

Suddenly Sam was lying on his bed alone and it seemed like the middle of the day. A beautiful bitchy blonde woman was looking at him with disdain on her face and he realised with a start that he must be dreaming.

"Who the hell are you?" she sneered as she brushed back her perfect hair and Sam saw she had long sharp nails and a body that oozed lust and popularity.

"No wait, I know exactly who you are. You're Sarah's pathetic little boyfriend. The weakling little bitch who actually thinks that pathetic loser has anything to offer. I'm Khloe her dream-bully. Nice to meet you."

Sam felt anger flare. "You... you're that dream bully who has been tormenting her every night. Well the jokes on you bitch, because now you'll never be able to harm her again. The dreamcatcher stopped you and now Sarah is safe! Without her imagination to empower you, you'll begin to fade away. Once Sarah forgets about you entirely you won't exist anymore."

Advancing sexily, Khloe straddled Sam and reaching down began to unbuckle his fly. "All your life you've wanted to have vivid dreams, you've wanted to know how it feels to be a dreamer. Well - let me give you something to dream about..."

Khloe's lips twisted into an amused smile. "Perhaps - or perhaps your dreamcatcher has given us both exactly what we've always wanted."

Sam groaned as his cock popped out into Khloe's eager hands and she began to stroke it with her slutty hands. She giggled as she looked down at it. "Cute - but you could do better."

Sam gasped as a feeling of power throbbed through him and his average dick began to swell and grow. It grew thicker, longer and more sensitive. "H... how?" he gasped.

"We're in a dream baby," purred Khloe. "Here, all your fantasies can become true. You can be who you want to be. Best of all, this dream can become reality thanks to your dreamcatcher. Unlike a normal dream when you wake from this one, any changes you have made will become true in reality. If you want them to that is."

"H...how... and how do you know that? It doesn't make any sense."

"Dreams don't have to make sense Sam," purred Khloe as she slowly stroked his now rock hard cock. "Nothing needs to make sense except the pleasure I can give you. From now on you will dream of me every night and make her dream of me too. Then you can have everything you ever wanted. You're going to help me become stronger, not weaker."

"Noooooo," groaned Sam as Khloe stroked and rubbed his enhanced cock. "Noooo, I can't."

"Mmmmmh, yes you can," giggled Khloe. "You're going to help me become an even bigger bitch. We're going to be so good together."

Then with a smirk, she reached down and began to suck his cock.

Sam gasped and groaned in pleasure as Khloe's bitchy pink lips sucked and slurped round his massive new dick. She glugged and gagged happily, easily taking him to the back of her throat and using her sexy nails to tickle and stroke his balls.

Pleasure like he had never known before flowed through him. Sarah didn't like to suck dick, but Khloe clearly loved it. She moaned appreciatively as she worked his cock and sucked and sucked and sucked.

Soon he was cumming in her mouth and it seemed to go on and on and on. The longest orgasm he had ever experienced, an orgasm so good that he never wanted it to end.

Cum dripping down her face, Khloe giggled and snapped her fingers. Sam's cock sprang back to attention immediately and he looked down in amazement.

"We're in a dream remember - the normal rules don't apply. You can cum all night without ever going soft, so we're going to do this again... and again... and again. This is only the beginning baby."

Khloe lowered her lips back to his cock, and Sam groaned as she began to take him back to heaven once more.

**************

With a gasp Sam awoke, his hand on his rock hard cock. Sarah was peacefully slumbering next to him, the dream catcher twirling slightly in the breeze from the open window as Sarah enjoyed her first nightmare free night in years.

Peeling back the sheets, Sam gasped. The nine inch cock now hanging from his groin was just as big and as thick as the one from the dream. Somehow the dream had bent reality.

Now Sam could remember everything. It was the first time he had ever remembered a dream and this one was so vivid. Khloe's bitchy whispers in his mind, her hand on his dick... her mouth sucking and slurping. The promises of more to come if he served her as she desired and helped her.

He knew what he needed to do.

Going to the bathroom, Sam groaned as he pumped his cock thinking of Khloe and he moaned as he began to cum. Fuck - his new dick felt so good. He had to have more, he had to see Khloe again.

***********

Sarah had never felt so liberated. Sam's dreamcatcher seemed to have worked a treat. She had slept so peacefully last night, and not once had she dreamed of the evil bully that had tormented her dreams for so long.

True, Sam seemed tired and was acting weird. He kept looking at her in a funny way and eventually he came over to talk and ask strange questions.

"So you didn't dream about Khloe last night then?"

She shook her head.

"That's good. You never really told me much about her. Is she pretty, what does she look like?"

Sam's questions bothered Sarah. It made her think of the dream bully and brought Khloe back into her mind. His questions were innocent, but the way they were framed made her feel bad. 'Is she prettier than you?'. Why had he asked that? It made her angry and annoyed that her boyfriend should suggest that her bully could be attractive.

"Sam, stop being such an asshole," she screamed as she grew tired of his questions. Now she couldn't stop thinking about that fucking bitch. She couldn't stop thinking about how much sexier and bitchier Khloe was then her. She couldn't stop imagining those perfect lips, rounded breasts and sexy dominant eyes. It was like Sam WANTED her to think about Khloe.

She left the room crying, all the time never thinking to ask the most important question.

How had Sam known her dream bully was called Khloe?

******************

"Good boy, I feel even stronger today," purred Khloe as Sam awoke to find himself back in the dream world.

Moments ago he had touched the dreamcatcher once again and now here he was back with Khloe for the sixth time this week.

Every night Sam had dutifully touched the dreamcatcher and let Khloe enter his mind. Every night the pleasure had become even more intense.

Last night Khloe had let him fuck her like an animal. The feeling of her tight pussy gripping his massive cock, her moans and screams of pleasure as he fucked her brains out... he had never cum so hard.

He had bent Khloe over the bed, his hand gripping her long blonde hair and his hand slapping her ass as with pounding strokes he had fucked her again and again and again.

In his dreams Sam was stronger, more dominant. His body was now muscled and fit and he was taller. On waking he found his body had changed to match his dream and it was as if no one noticed. Whatever changes happened in the dream seemed to leak into reality.

And all he had to do to have more pleasure was to keep betraying Sarah and helping Khloe to become stronger. Fucking her and hearing her grunt and scream was all he cared about.

Indeed Sam no longer cared about the real world. Being here with Khloe was all that mattered. She was his Goddess now.

Sam knew he would do anything for her. She had her claws into his soul. She made him feel so good and every suggestion she made was the right one. He needed Khloe more than he had ever needed Sarah.

Tormenting Sarah and making her think of her bully had become a necessary evil so that he could have the pleasure his body craved. The more he made Sarah remember her dreams, talk about the bully or imagine new situations - the stronger and bitchier it made Khloe become.

Usually when he came to the dream, it would be a fantasy version of somewhere he knew. This time though they were in a room he didn't recognises. It was a boudoir, full of makeup, lingerie and a silk sheeted bed. Seated in front of a tall mirror in a black silk dressing gown, Khloe looked stunning.

If anything she looked hotter than last time. The imagination of both Sarah and Sam had made her grow even stronger.

There was a hunger in her eyes.

"You enjoy fucking me don't you Sam? But you enjoy helping me become more powerful and more evil even more. I know it excites you."

Khloe advanced towards him.

"But do you know what would be really hot baby? Imagine if I could leave the dream and come into reality?"

Sam groaned as Khloe straddled him and stroked his face. "Imagine if I could find someone willing to BECOME me and help me cross over."

Sam looked up in shock.

"Become you... but... how?"

Khloe smiled. "Changes made here in the dream can cross into reality. All you would have to do is imagine yourself becoming me. Let my personality, memories and thoughts become your own. You would become me. You would be Khloe."

Sam groaned - his cock instantly hard. Khloe reached down and began to slowly jerk him off.

"Yesssss imagine it baby. Being me would feel so good, you'd love being a bitch. You'd have my tits and a tight pussy - men would be yours to manipulate and control. You would be the bully. It feels so good to be a bully. Say it... say... I want to be the bully."

Her hand on his cock sped up.

"I... I want to be the bully," moaned Sam nearly drooling.

"Yessss. Imagine it baby. Imagine you have long sharp nails on each finger. Your skin is tanned, you have long blonde hair. Imagine a superior smirk on your lips as you take some weak little boy and make him your puppet."

Sam groaned. His skin began to tingle and he felt Khloe's hand tighten on his cock as she began to pump it faster and faster. Bone's popped and he groaned as his hair began to itch.

"Yessss my tits are swelling up on your chest, your ass is blowing up into mine. Your face is changing... becoming prettier. You fucking love how it feels don't you? Mmmmh, fucking shoot out that cum for me baby, it's the last time you'll ever do it again. Your cock is already shrinking - soon my tight Goddess pussy will be between your legs."

Sam screamed as his cock erupted and suddenly he felt Khloe pinning him down as cum blasted out and coated their bodies. She slid on top of him, the sticky mess seeming to glue them together and he felt her starting to sink into his body.

"Fuck yessss, merge with me Sam. BECOME me."

Khloe moaned in pleasure as they merged. Sam was groaning too. He could feel her breasts on his chest, feel her long blonde hair around his shoulders.

Hips popped and cracked, internal organs moved about. Sam felt his lips twist into a slutty smile as fake tan spread across his skin and he became a fake, popular, mean girl.

"Mmmmh I feel so fucking evil and hot. Yessss make me into a fucking bitch. I want to be Khloe!"

Khloe's superior tits reached their full impressive size and jewellery popped into place. Makeup shimmered over Sam's features and he flexed long acrylic nails.

Feelings of superiority flooded him as he felt Khloe's personality taking control. This felt SO amazing.

"I am a bitch. Yes I am a bitch. I AM A FUCKING EVIL BITCH," he screamed in glee as his voice altered and became Khloe's sexy purr.

Khloe/Sam began to groan and buck. The merging was complete and reaching down he/she began to rub their tight pussy and groan. Ohhh it felt so good.

"I... I'm going to cummmmm!"

Sam screamed as his body bucked and squirted, female hormones rushing round his body. No, wait. She wasn't Sam. She was Khloe.

Sighing, Khloe stretched her perfect body and felt the last vestiges of Sam drop away. What a fucking loser. It had always been his destiny to become her.

"Now I am the bully, I LOVE being a bitch," she sighed happily. Sam no longer existed, and when she awoke from this dream, it would be like he had never existed. Only she remained.

Khloe was evil, manipulative, sexy and popular. She knew in the real world she would be unstoppable.

She couldn't wait to get started.

Khloe walked to the mirror and admired herself for a moment then grinned. It was time to wake up.

She took one last look around her boudoir then snapped her fingers.

It was time to get real. And Sarah had no idea what was coming.

****************

Sarah whimpered as she tried to carry the six heavy shopping bags and coffee for her cruel boss as she staggered after Khloe in the luxurious mall.

Being Khloe's personal assistant was a terrible job, but she was too afraid to quit. Khloe was such a bitch and she was a rich and famous influencer. She had all the power.

"Hurry up you dumb bitch," snapped Khloe as she watched Sarah struggle. "I need my makeover for my hot date tonight."

Sarah nodded. A hot date? That meant another evening of humiliation whilst she waited obediently downstairs and listened to Khloe getting fucked.

Serving Khloe was kind of like a waking nightmare. It sometimes felt like some evil dream she couldn't wake up from.

Perhaps she should borrow the dream catcher she'd seen hanging over Khloe's huge bed? Maybe that would help?

Not that she had dreams anymore.

All her dreams belonged to Khloe now.

#evie hyde #bitchification #m2f transformation #corruption #m2f corruption #bully #possession

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sydsaint · 9 days

Text

Best Bout Machine is Back Baby!!!!! <3

Summary: As his wife, you accompany Kenny when he finally comes back to Dynamite.

You pick nervously at your nails as the car pulls into the safety of the back parking lot. Kenny glances over at you and notices the worried look on your face.

"Hey." Kenny's soft voice breaks you out of your fit of worry. "It's going to be fine, sweetie. I'm going to be fine." He assures you.

You turn your head toward your husband and nod. "I know." You nod and fall silent for again. "It's just...Matt and Nick." You add after a moment. "Plus you heard the doctor. You have to take it easy Ken."

Kenny chuckles, amused by how much worrying you do when it comes to him. "I know." He muses and reaches over to grab your hand. "It's sweet that you worry so much." Kenny lifts your hand in his and kisses the back of it gently. "But we've got this, okay?" He assures you.

You reluctantly nod and the car comes to a full stop in an empty spot. The two of you gather up your things and head inside the arena for Dynamite.

You hang around backstage with Kenny for most of the night. It's only after he insists that he'll be okay and that you should allow yourself a few minutes to go catch up with your friends, do you leave his side. Kenny remains backstage mingling with some of his work buddies while you head down to the women's locker room.

"YN! Oh my gosh! It's so good to see you!" Willow is the first one to greet you once you're in the locker room.

"Willow!" You grin and open your arms wide for a hug. "Gosh! Yes! It's so good to see you again!" You hug her tightly.

Willow picks you up off the ground in a crushing hug before setting you back down to the floor.

"How are you, girl?" Willow asks you eagerly. "You look great! And how's Kenny?"

"I've been good, thanks." You reply. "And Kenny is doing much better, thanks. He's not cleared to wrestle just yet. But he is cleared to travel so there's that." You explain the situation to Willow.

Willow nods, soaking up the information. "That's good news." She smiles at you. "And how are you? How's it feel to be back on the road and not cooped up at home all the time?"

"It's nice being out of the house, yeah." You admit. "And I'm doing well, thanks, Willow." You smile at her.

You and Willow catch up a bit before you move on and catch up with a few more people. You are in the middle of talking with Toni Storm when Willow barges into the room like a mad woman.

"YN!" Willow hollers out into the open room before spotting you.

"Willow?" You turn away from Toni in confusion. "What's wrong?" You question her as she rushes over to you and Toni.

Willow comes to a stop at your side. She takes a split-second to catch her breath before putting a hand on your arm with a worried look on her face.

"YN you need to come quick!" Willow huffs. "Kenny just got attacked out in the ring by Matt and Nick!" She explains.

"What!?" You gasp. "Oh my god!"

You rush past Willow and out of the locker room. Sprinting at full speed you weave through the backstage area and out toward the ring.

When you manage to make it out to the ring Kenny is already on the ground, post-attack. You watch in horror as he clutches his midsection in agony, his former friends standing tall above him. You find yourself unable to move as medical and security staff begin to file out from the backstage area. Matt and Nick walk past you, both making a passing glance as they go.

"Oh, no. Oh, fuck." You finally find yourself able to move.

You move forward and rush around the ring to where some of the medical team are helping get Kenny onto a stretcher.

"Kenny? Hey, Ken. It's me. It's, YN. It's going to be alright, okay?" You assure him.

Kenny writhes in pain on the stretcher and you grab his hand for support. The medical team leads the two of you up the ramp and through the backstage area to where there is an ambulance waiting in the loading bay.

Your worry lessens a bit once you see the waiting ambulance in the distance. But then Matt and Nick show up again and your worry warps into rage.

"You two!" You whip around and confront the Jackson brothers. "You arrogant, pigheaded, Chauvinistic, fuckheads!" You shout for anyone and everyone to hear.

"YN! Let's just calm down now." Matt winces at you and stomps over to him.

You continue on the warpath toward the brothers who both back to retreat. "I want both of you fuckers out of my sight before I shove my foot up both of your asses!" You growl at the brothers.

Jack Perry pops up behind the brothers and you begin to see red. You lock eyes with him and shove past Matt and Nick. Jack spots you coming and is quick to retreat with Matt and Nick.

"Ma'am!" One of the medical staffers shouts at you from back toward the ambulance. "We're about to roll out. Are you coming?" He asks you.

You shoot one last death glare at the Jackson brothers and Jack before turning back around and heading back to the ambulance. You head inside the back of the ambulance and take a seat by Kenny's gurney.

"Sorry about that, sweetie." You grab Kenny's hand and smile at him. "I'm back. And we're going to get you all fixed up again, okay?"

"I'm going to be fine, honey." Kenny lets out a strained cough and clutches at your hand.

You nod in agreement and squeeze his hand. "I know, baby. I know."

#wrestling #aew fanfiction #aew fanfic #aew fic #aew x reader #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fic #kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega imagine #kenny omega fic #x reader fic #x reader #aew #all elite wrestling #syd's wrestling fics

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bantaro-bird · 1 year

Text

Stuck Here A Little While

That’s right, I’ve finally done it. After teasing for months, I hecking wrote the fic. In this AU, Grian and Mumbo Jumbo are borrowers. If you don’t know what that is, go watch The Secret World of Arrietty or something.

I am more familiar with some of these people than others, so I am hoping my characterization for each is at least decent. [] Lastly, I want to mention the drawings I’ve included were doodled over the past few months as I’ve been thinking about the story. I hope you enjoy~

EDIT: I finally named the story.

Grian had just escaped being tormented by a stray cat, making it out alive, but bleeding profusely from a deep bite wound. He hobbled into an alley and sat against the wall. Blood was trailing into the street. He was unable to move much, so he was basically waiting to die. Just then, Lizzie was arriving home with some groceries and stopped at the sight of the blood. She followed it into the alley and found Grian. She pushed the shock of the sight to the back of her mind, as his wellbeing was clearly more urgent. She set her bags down and gently went to pick him up. As this developed, Grian was thinking to himself. He knows what humans are like, generally. That they’re just people. Some are dangerous, some are kind, some are manipulative. Borrowers are taught from a young age not to mingle with humans, because even if one seems friendly, it’s not worth the risk of being tricked. But in this case, he had no choice. So he was desperately hoping this was a nice one. She carried him inside and set him on the kitchen counter by the sink. She told him to stay calm and assured him she was going to take care of him.

She said, “I’m going to lift your shirt up to see the wound, okay?” As she worked, she kept communicating with him, so as not to scare him.

“This is really nasty. How did this happen?” She asked. Grian explained that he had been caught by a cat and barely got away. Lizzie cleaned and disinfected the bite, then had him keep pressure on it while she got bandages. After he was wrapped up, she grabbed a bottle of paracetamol and laid a pill on the counter. To Grian’s horror, she brought out a big chopping knife. She used it to cut the pill, and half of it crumbled into a lump of powder. She asked him to take a pinch of it. She then filled a shot glass with water and stuck a coffee stirrer in it. She apologized that it was still awkwardly large, but it was the best she could do. She gave him the water and instructed him to use it to take the pain medicine. She then asked for his jumper so she could try and get the blood out of it. This was a task she didn’t need to speak to him about, and it was going to take a few minutes, so they finally had a moment of quiet to take the situation in. After a pause, Grian spoke up, “Thank you for helping me. I don’t think I would have made it.”

“Of course!” She replied, a bit anxiously, “I mean, you looked like you really needed help. I wasn’t gonna just leave you there. I’m Lizzie, by the way.”

“Oh, right. Uh, my name’s Grian.”

There was another pause before Lizzie asked him, “I’m sorry. This- I don’t know if this is a rude thing to ask, but… What are you?” Grian was taken aback.

“I- I’m a borrower. I don’t- do I look like something else?”

“No, but, well… What’s a borrower? That sounds more like an occupation than a species.” He couldn’t believe his ears. Lizzie had never even heard of borrowers. She didn’t know what they were. I mean, he supposed it made sense, but it had never even occurred to him. All borrowers are taught not to talk to humans and to stay out of sight. How in the world were humans supposed to know they were around? She really didn’t know anything. He was going to have to start from scratch.

“It’s sort of both.” He informed her. “We’re called that because we borrow things. Small things that humans wouldn’t miss. Like tissues, a bit of sugar, some string, that sort of thing. We use those things to feed ourselves and build our lives. We live in small, isolated communities. We have to. If too many of us are in one place, we get too noisy, and they find us.” He stopped, realizing what he was beginning to say. He wasn’t sure how to talk to a human about how much of a threat humans are to his kind.

Lizzie pressed the shirt between her fingers under the stream of tap water, and the stream turned red briefly. “So… you’re saying there are more of you. And that you’re all over the place, but no one has ever noticed you?”

“That’s been the goal.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. For all the scientists and record keepers over all of human history, I can’t be the first human to have ever spoken to a borrower. Do you have some sort of camouflage magic or something?”

Grian raised his eyebrows. “Oh, no, you misunderstand! You’re not the first. In the grand scheme of things, we get found relatively often. Besides families becoming too large, being found is probably the number one reason borrowers move house. Growing up, we hear our parents repeat all kinds of horror stories about borrowers who-” He stumbled over his sentence, but pressed through, “Who- well, who encountered a human… and didn't… come back.”

“WHAT!?” Lizzie startled Grian with her volume. He flinched and then winced. The sudden motion disturbed his wound. “You’re telling me that humans have found tiny little men and then decided to HURT THEM!? WHY?” After getting her whole thought out, she saw how scared Grian looked and shrunk backward. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I just- I just can’t imagine why someone would want to hurt you. You’re just… You’re just a little guy.” She had started to drift into a bit of a baby voice at the end there. Grian chuckled, and then winced.

Grumbling he said, “Aw, you’ve got to be kidding me! It even hurts to laugh.”

“Listen,” Lizzie began, “I know we’ve only just met, but you’re clearly in no state to go back outside. I can try to help you get back home or, if you want, you’re completely welcome to stay here for as long as you need. It won’t be any trouble, really!” Grian paused to think on this. Lizzie couldn’t help him get home, even if she tried. He couldn’t think of any way for her to access his home without tearing some things apart, and there was no way he was going to be able to drag himself to his house by himself. Even if he could, once he was there, there wouldn’t be anyone to take care of him. He wished he could just stay with his neighbor, Mumbo, but he knew that was just as unlikely. He found himself in essentially the same position as when she found him outside, in that he really didn’t have any choice.

He looked back up at her. “Yeah, I don’t imagine I can get anywhere else with or without help. I really appreciate it.” Lizzie was now patting the little yellow jumper dry between some paper towels. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to get all of the blood out. It covered the lower right half of the jumper and had already dried at the edges. While the stain was much more faded from being washed, it was still clearly present; Although if you didn’t know any better, it almost looked like an intentional design. She set it down next to him.

“Sorry. I wasn’t able to get all the blood out. But at least it looks a lot better than when I found you outs- - Outside! The groceries!” Without another word, she sprinted out the front door to retrieve the bags she had left in the alley. Now that he was alone, Grian turned his head gently to look behind him. Behind the sugar jar he could barely see it. A little inconspicuous crack around the rim of a backsplash tile. He turned back to the jumper sitting next to him. This was his favourite jumper. There was no way, even able bodied, that he would have been able to do this good a job with the stain. As he put it back on, Lizzie came back in. She set the bags down and began to unpack them. Once everything was put in the fridge, she sighed in relief. As she folded the bags to put away, she asked him if he had eaten lunch. He said he was fine, so she told him she was going to retire to the living room and to give her a shout if he needed anything. It felt a bit impolite to leave him alone, but she was a little scared to move him. And she didn’t know him very well yet. She thought it best to give him his space. She didn’t shut the kitchen door behind her. From where Grian was, he could barely see Lizzie take a seat on a recliner, open a bag of pretzels, and turn the TV on. She kept it on low volume. Grian examined his wound again. He tried to stand, but couldn’t. At least, not without bearing severe pain. He winced as he tried to at least find a way to rest that was comfortable. The cold countertop did not make for a very good bed. Giving up, he called out.

“Lizzie!” She popped up from her chair and poked her head back into the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“I hate to be a bother, I know you just sat down, but is there anything more comfortable I could rest on?” Lizzie looked around and thought to herself. She went to the linen closet and grabbed a couple of hand towels. She came back and arranged them on the counter like a bed with a pillow and blanket, with plenty of back support. She offered him a finger to hold for stability as he climbed onto it.

“This is much more comfortable, thank you.”

“It’s no problem. Again, don’t hesitate to shout if you need anything at all. You don’t need to be exerting yourself while that heals.” She returned to the living room to watch her show. Grian laid back and pulled the blanket up. He figured, as bad as he felt, the best thing to do was probably to try and get some rest. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind.

He had never been less tired in his life. A couple minutes passed. He opened his eyes. He knew there was no way he was going to get any sleep. He could faintly hear the TV in the next room, but couldn’t understand enough of the dialogue to follow the story. There was nothing else to keep his interest in this room. He bit his lip. He knew exactly what he wanted, but he felt terrible asking for it.

“Lizzie…” He called as timidly as he could while retaining enough volume to be heard. Lizzie got up and poked her head back through the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to be a bother. I- I mean I hate to intrude. I was just wondering… if you wouldn’t mind letting me come watch TV with you?”

“Ah.” She looked down and to the side, with what appeared to be a frustrated expression. Grian felt awful. He was being the imposition he feared to become.

“I-it’s okay. I’m sorry I even asked. You just go ahead and watch by your-”

Lizzie cut him off “What? No no no. Of course you can come! I’d love the company. I’m just trying to figure out how to transport you without disturbing your wound. I think I’ve got an idea.” She stepped into the living room and picked up a wooden lap tray off the ottoman. She brought it into the kitchen and aligned the surface with the countertop in front of Grian. Ensuring the surfaces were adequately flush, she leaned forward to hold it in place with her knee and hip. She held the near corners of the towel between her fingers and gently slid the whole make-shift bed onto the tray. She moved his water to the tray as well, then took the tray back in her hands and slowly carried it back into the living room, taking care not to spill the water or jostle the Grian. She set it down on the end table between the two recliners. She took a seat herself and turned the volume up a little. She unrolled her bag of pretzels and popped one in her mouth, then offered one to Grian. He held it in both hands and took a tiny little bite out of it. Lizzie had to remind herself that this was a grown man and just a regular old person. She had to fight the urge to absolutely melt because no matter what it was, everything he did was adorable.

An episode or two of TV later, the two heard a door open across the house. Lizzie recognized it as the sound of her husband, Joel, coming home from work. Grian also recognized that a new human had entered the house and tensed up. His instinct was to run and hide. But with that option eliminated, what was he meant to do? He stared at the doorway, frozen in fear. Joel entered the living room and Lizzie greeted him.

“Joel! The craziest thing happened today and you wouldn’t believe it if you couldn’t see it with your own eyes!” Joel hadn’t noticed Grian yet. He was a bit sarcastically indignant.

“Oh, I see. We just go straight to talking about you. No ‘How was your day?’ No, it’s fine!”

“Joel! Look!” Lizzie gestured to Grian, who was shrinking behind his towel-blanket, eyes darting between Lizzie and Joel. Joel stared in awed silence. He slowly climbed into the empty recliner to get a better look, gaze fixed on Grian the whole time.

Lizzie continued, “I went to the shop today and when I came home I found him bleeding out in the alley, so I brought him in and cleaned him up. His name is Grian. Grian, this is my husband, Joel.” Grian felt as if Lizzie was encouraging him to feel comfortable, but it was hard with such big eyes fixed so securely on him. He wasn’t able to formulate a reply.

Joel spoke slowly, in a quiet voice, “Hey there little guy… What are you?” Grian began to stutter the words out, but before he could make much noise Lizzie blurted it out.

“He says he’s a borrower! They’re just like humans except small, of course, and they-”

Joel cut her off, “Yeah, I know what a borrower is. I just thought they were make-believe, you know?” His gaze had now relaxed. He had looked at Lizzie to speak to her.

Grian finally piped up, “Y-you’ve heard of borrowers?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve heard of lots of mythical creatures from books and stuff as a kid. I used to have a book about borrowers. Is that surprising?”

“Only because Lizzie hadn’t heard of us. But to be fair you’re the second human I’ve ever spoken to, so I don’t really have anything else to go on.” Grian was intrigued by the idea of human literature about borrowers. He wondered what they knew.

Grian ended up spending the rest of the evening picking Joel’s brain about that book, learning what humans know about and correcting what it got wrong. When it got to be late, Lizzie and Joel got ready to head off to bed. Lizzie tried to make sure Grian would have everything he could need for the night. She left the remote next to him in case he wanted to watch some TV. She told him if he needed anything to turn the volume up real high, rather than straining his voice calling for them.

“Is there anything else? Another towel, something to drink? Anything at all?” Lizzie flustered herself trying to exhaust possible problems.

“There is one thing I’m worried about.” Grian hesitated. “It’s just… I had someone coming over tonight.”

Grian invited a guest over on his first day staying here? Lizzie was puzzled. “How did you- oh no of course you mean where you live.”

“Well, you see, that’s the thing. I wasn’t really sure how to bring this up… I kinda… live… here.”

Lizzie paused. “YOU LIVE IN OUR WALLS!?” Grian winced from the volume, and the embarrassment.

“No, not technically. I live… well, I think it’s under the living room somewhere. I-I do have passageways in some of the walls though, yes.”

Lizzie couldn’t tell how she should feel about this, other than being surprised. Angry, perhaps? “So this whole time! This whole time you already knew this place, huh! I thought I was bringing you into a big strange mysterious place but this is just home-sweet-home!”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I’ve only explored the areas I can borrow from. A lot of this place is really unfamiliar to me, especially lit up like this. I uh, I did already know your names, though.” Grian watched her expression get more flustered and became more embarrassed. “I probably should have said something right away, but I mean, this entire situation has been so bizarre. It’s not like I knew the best thing to do… Does this… change anything? Should I leave?”

That final comment brought Lizzie into clarity, and she calmed down quickly. “No, no, of course not! I still want you to stay here as long as you need to heal. You’re completely welcome here. It’s just- I mean you know that changes everything, right?”

“Does it?” Grian asked. Lizzie paused to think.

“I guess I don’t know.”

After a chunk of silence, Grian repeated himself. “So, I uh.. I was worried, because I had someone coming over tonight. If I’m not where he expects to find me, he’s gonna get worried, and he’s not gonna know where else to look.” Lizzie agreed that was not ideal and asked how she could help. Grian asked if she had a scrap of paper and something small to write with. She said she didn’t have any small writing utensils. He asked if she had any pencils she could break the tip off of. She brought him a pencil tip and a sticky note. He wrote a message down and folded it up. He instructed her to check behind the TV and down a bit for a hole. She turned the screen so she could squeeze her head through the gap, and spotted the hole in the wall about halfway between the TV stand and the floor. She slipped the note through for Grian’s friend to find. After confirming that Grian wouldn’t need anything else, she turned the lights out and went to bed.

Later that night, Grian was awoken by a rustling noise. He looked over towards the TV stand to see just what he was hoping to find. Mumbo Jumbo was crouched under the screen, scanning the room for Grian. Grian sat up a little, waved his hand in the air, and called out for Mumbo at a normal speaking volume. Mumbo was alarmed, and looked angry. He stepped to the edge of the TV stand and pulled a lever on the contraption he had strapped to his back. Two thin wire and leather wings sprung up and he glided over to where Grian was.

Mumbo whispered harshly, “Grian! Have you lost your mind!? What are you thinking, setting up camp in the middle of the living room like this? And if you don’t keep your voice down one of the humans might hear you!!”

“Mumbo! Mumbo, calm down! I need to catch you up on what happened to me today.” Grian explained to Mumbo that he was attacked by a cat and Lizzie saved his life. He’s too weak to try and go back home and Lizzie offered to take care of him. He knows they aren’t supposed to trust humans, because they could be deceived, but he doesn’t feel he has enough of a choice to doubt. Besides, Lizzie and Joel seem nice. Mumbo objects as much as he can, but Grian kind of has a point. Mumbo could try to help Grian get out of there, but it wouldn’t be a smooth process. Grian would risk getting even more hurt.

Mumbo asked if there was anything he could do to help. Grian explained to Mumbo about the pain medicine Lizzie gave him, and that it had worn off. Mumbo asked how she could possibly have given him medicine. Even the smallest human pills are too big to swallow and would be a sure overdose for a borrower. Grian looked at him with a puzzled expression. He had no idea how human medicine worked. He explained that she cut a pill and just had him take a pinch. Mumbo told him he’s lucky nothing bad happened and asked him where the medicine was. Grian told him it’s probably still a pile of dust by the kitchen sink. Mumbo glided into the kitchen. It was too far a distance to maintain the altitude needed to land on the counter, so he landed on the floor and pulled a device off his pack. He set the metal rectangular object on the ground and stood on top of it. He positioned himself a certain way to make sure his aim was good and then pressed a button on his pack. The device expanded quickly like a piston, sending Mumbo into the air with a trail of string following behind him. He stuck the landing on the counter and then pulled his device up by the string and reattached it to his pack.

Once on the counter he pondered the pile of pill dust for a moment before deciding it was useless to him. He climbed into the cabinets and found the paracetamol bottle. He was able to use the instructions and measurements on the label to determine, roughly, what would be an appropriate equivalent dose for a borrower. Looking around he spotted a chocolate bar, too. Little portioned piles of powder are difficult to keep track of, so that’d be useful for sure. Being a resourceful borrower, he was able to find the tools to cut and portion the pills, melt the chocolate, mix the pill powder into it, and cool his home-made borrower-sized paracetamol chocolates. He found a sticky note and wrote down dosage instructions for Grian. He dug a plastic bottle cap out of the trash and cleaned it off so he’d have something to carry the chocolates in. He cleaned everything up and glided back on over to Grian, again using his piston device to reach the end table. Grian was elated to have more medicine, and very impressed at all the effort Mumbo went through to make sure he didn’t overdose. Grian, knowing he’d be here a while and the humans attempts at borrower accommodations were sub optimal, also asked Mumbo to go to his house and retrieve some of his plates and cups. When Mumbo got back, they hung out and chatted for a while longer over a pretzel. They talked into the late hours of the night and ended up dozing off without realizing.

The next morning, Mumbo awoke suddenly at the sound of footsteps. He looked around in a panic, realizing he had failed to go home last night, and he was now exposed in the sun-lit human living room. He didn’t see any humans around. Hoping they must have just woken up, and not come out yet, he made a dash for the nearest exit. He slipped out without being seen, but as Joel came into the living room he did notice a bit of a rustling noise coming from the TV area. Joel looked down at a still sleeping Grian and noticed a few more items there than there were last night. He picked up the bottle cap to get a closer look at its contents. The text on the attached sticky note was difficult to read because it was so small. He set it down, looked at Grian for another moment, and then took one of Grian’s plates and continued on into the kitchen.

A bit later, Lizzie came into the living room as well. She leaned over Grian to check on him. She gently tried to pull at the towel to get a better look at his bandages. They were very dirty by now and needed to be changed. The tugging at the towel woke Grian up, and the looming figure set his heart racing. He flinched and let out a little scream.

“It’s just me! It’s just me!” Lizzie reassured him.

“You scared the life out of me!!” He scolded.

She apologized. Joel poked his head in from the kitchen to ask Lizzie if she wanted some breakfast. She did.

“Oh, Grian, you’re up! Wait one second.” Joel went back into the kitchen for a moment and then returned with Grian’s plate. It had two tiny strips of bacon cut from a full strip, a corner of a piece of toast, and a singular baked bean on it. He set it down next to Grian “I made you a plate.”

“Oh my goodness, thank you!” Exclaimed Grian. “Wow, this smells amazing!” This breakfast wasn’t much like anything he had had before. Grian was used to cooking with much smaller ingredients. Baked beans came in a can larger than him. It was hard to borrow meat because you can usually tell when some of it has been taken. So the meat he ate usually came from smaller animals or bugs that he had hunted. The only thing familiar was the toast, although he had only ever had home-made bread. He was trying store-bought bread for the first time. He didn’t think it was as good. After eating, Lizzie put her coat on and waved goodbye to the boys. She was off to work for the day. Joel cleaned up the kitchen and then brought some bandages over to Grian and asked him to lift his shirt.

“Yeah, I figured.” Joel said, “It’s gotten pretty nasty. Let’s get some clean bandages on you, alright?” Joel slowly removed the bandage, cleaned the wound, and wrapped Grian up in fresh cloth. After putting the first aid away, he got his coat on as well. He asked Grian if he’d need anything else while he was gone. Grian said he’d be fine. Joel let him know he worked close by and would try to pop in occasionally to check on him. Joel said goodbye and headed out. His place of work was very close by. Right next door, in fact. He worked as a part-time caretaker for his disabled neighbor. Joel let himself in with his key and called out into the house.

“Good morning, Scar! I’m here!” Scar rolled backwards from his office to poke his head out into the hall and wave.

“Mornin’ Joel!” They continued with small talk as Joel hung up his coat. Scar followed him into the kitchen to chat with him while he started on his tasks. Scar did need the help, but his favorite thing about Joel coming around was just having someone to talk to. He lived alone and it was hard for him to get out of the house. Joel got to a stopping point and excused himself to use the restroom. After doing so, while washing his hands, the medicine cabinet mirror mysteriously swung open and knocked him in the noggin. As he turned the faucet off and reached for the hand towel, he looked up at the open cabinet. To his surprise, standing on the top shelf and leaning against a bottle was a tiny little mustachioed man.

“So, you’re the one watching after Grian.”

“Oh, you must be Mumbo, right? Grian mentioned you, but I didn’t realize you lived here!” Mumbo fumbled his composure. He didn’t expect to be recognized.

“W-well listen up, bud! You better not hurt him, alright? Don’t underestimate me. I can make life very hard for you.” Joel leaned in and spoke a little more quietly.

“Does Scar know about you?” Once again, Mumbo was sweating.

“No.”

“Wow… You’re being very brave right now.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t even know me and you’ve come to confront me like this? AND you’re trusting me with your secret? I mean, I could just walk out and tell Scar about you right now. And if I don’t, I’m here all the time. I could reveal your secret at any time. It’s respectable, I think. You must really care about Grian.” It was at this time that Mumbo accepted to himself he never really had the high ground at all. He almost felt as if he was getting smaller with every word. None of this was going the way he had planned it in his head. He reached behind a bottle and flipped a lever that activated a contraption that pulled the cabinet door shut. Joel flinched. He reopened the cabinet, but Mumbo was nowhere to be seen. Joel couldn’t figure out how he’d left, either. Mumbo retreated to his house and stayed there for the rest of the day. Joel decided not to mention this encounter to Scar, but he did tell Grian about it. Grian laughed at Mumbo’s expense.

Joel visited Scar several days a week to help with various things around the house. Besides this, Scar didn’t really have all that much social interaction. It was hard for him to leave the house because of all the accessibility accommodations that had to be considered for any trip. There were a few routine places he went. Joel accompanied him on grocery trips, for example. He was the type of person to delay the checkout line because he was chatting with the cashier. At home, he found various activities to keep himself busy. He was a big fan of movies and he liked to play video games. Mumbo, when he first decided to move in below Scar, thought the wheelchair situation would prove to be very convenient for him. It meant there was a lot more of the house that wouldn’t be touched by humans, and therefore more space to play with. This turned out to not so much be the case, because of Joel.

Mumbo was an engineer. He liked to design various machines to make his life easier. While other borrowers might make do with a human item that was close enough to what they needed, Mumbo preferred to melt down metal and plastic and make exactly what he wanted. He had built a glider he used to get between higher surfaces without having to climb from the ground. And he built a piston device to help him get up to counter tops quickly. This device was a real pain. It was so finicky. Some nights it worked perfectly. Others, it was totally useless. Today, Mumbo was sitting on top of the kitchen cabinets behind a couple of decorative plants. He had several spots like this where he liked to tinker and watch Scar. Often, Scar wouldn’t even be doing anything interesting. He just found it easier to focus with him in the room. Scar was organizing his medicine at the time. Mumbo was trying to disassemble the device, planning to start from scratch with a new blueprint. His grip slipped and the device burst open with explosive force. The platform launched right into Mumbo’s gut and sent him backwards forcefully. He was flung off the cabinet top and right into the center of the kitchen, but unexpectedly stopped short of the floor. He sat stiff, frozen, staring wide eyed back at what stopped him. He has been caught on Scar’s extended hand. Had Scar not reacted so quickly, Mumbo would probably have been injured by the fall onto the tile floor. Scar was panting a little bit and had a very earnest worried expression on his face.

“Are you okay?” Mumbo didn’t say anything. Scar waited for a bit. He could see how scared Mumbo was, and he knew this wasn’t supposed to happen, so he gave him a minute to answer. But after a long pause, he still hadn’t said anything.

“Hello?? D-did you break something? Are you okay?? Say something!”

“Y-yeah….” Mumbo could only slowly squeeze out the one word. Scar sighed with relief. He set Mumbo down on the table in front of him. The two of them were locked in eye contact. Mumbo’s brain was racing. He was trying to think if there was any reasonable escape. He was a bit stranded on the table. He didn’t figure he could get away fast enough from here. He wasn’t even wearing any of his borrowing equipment.

“W-w-what are you going to do with me?”

“What? I’m not gonna do anything to you! What would I even do??”

“B-but… you found me. In your house. Borrowers aren’t supposed to be found. I- I can’t just go back like nothing happened…” Scar looked down and let out a heavy sigh. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck.

“Listen,” He couldn’t make eye contact. “I kinda… already knew about you?”

Dumbfounded, Mumbo spat back, “...what?”

“I’ve known for a long time. Probably the whole time.”

Mumbo could not believe his ears, “And you never said anything!?”

Scar was becoming flustered, “W-well you seemed like you were trying really hard to be sneaky and I didn’t wanna ruin it for you!” Mumbo was mortified. This whole time. This whole time he had been a complete failure of a borrower and somehow managed to end up with a human who didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He wondered how many times he had been seen. When he thought he was completely out of view atop shelves, was he actually exposed? Could Scar hear him running through the walls? Could Scar hear him working on his machines?

“I’m really sorry,” Scar continued, “You clearly didn’t want to be seen so I did my best not to bother you. A-and that doesn’t have to change now. You’ve never been a bother or anything. You’re totally free to keep doing your thing. I promise I’ll leave you totally alone.”

Mumbo was looking down at his shoes, still trying to process the lie of the last several years of his life. Without looking up, he said, “I can’t leave from here.”

Scar looked at the height of the table. “Oh, right. Uhm. I can’t reach the spot you were in, but I can put you over by the toaster. There’s a hole there, right? Will that work?” Mumbo clenched his fists. Scar even knew about one of his entrances.

“That’s fine.” Scar offered his hand, and Mumbo reluctantly climbed onto it. Scar carefully rolled over to the toaster and placed his hand down next to it. Mumbo leapt off and left without another word.

The following weeks in that house were very awkward for the both of them. Anytime Scar saw Mumbo, he wasn’t sure if he still needed to uphold the habit of pretending he hadn’t seen anything. This caused a delay in his reactions, which made it more clear to Mumbo when he was seen, and just how often it happened. One day, Scar was pawing at a cabinet shelf for some formula. He had forgotten to ask Joel to move them forward while he was there. The rest were all closer to the back of the cabinet and he couldn’t quite reach them, or even see them from his chair. Mumbo happened to be working on something on top of the cabinets at the time. He was sitting right up against the wall, further back than normal, to better avoid being seen. He could hear Scar struggling. He sighed, set his device down, got up, and made his way to the cabinet entrance. Sure enough, the entrance was almost totally blocked by formula cartons almost as tall as him. He leaned against one and pushed it forward until Scar could reach.

“Oh, thank you!” Scar was surprised to see Mumbo intentionally interacting with him, even if in a hidden capacity. Mumbo didn’t reply. He was walking back toward the back of the cabinet to move another carton when Scar, still feeling blindly around, accidentally grabbed him. They both flinched and Scar yanked his hand back out of the cabinet.

“Sorry!” Scar shouted. Mumbo didn’t reply. Scar still needed a few more cartons of formula, but he went ahead and started pouring the first one into the bag before getting more. He tried to pour slowly. When he was sure he didn’t hear any more rustling in the cabinet, he reached back up and got the rest of what he needed.

Another week went by with the two trying to avoid acknowledging each other, tension growing. Mumbo was on a credenza in the hall, standing behind a vase. He tripped and stumbled backwards into it, knocking it over. He and the vase both tumbled onto the floor. The vase had landed upside-down on top of him. He tried to lift it, but it was too heavy. He tried to tip it, but the shape made it impossible to get any leverage. If he had some tools on him he could think of a few ways to get out of this. But he didn’t. Stumped, he tried to sit down to think. He couldn’t even do that, because the narrow neck of the vase prevented him from bending his knees very far. It crossed his mind that, as unfavorable as it was, he did have one option. And it was probably his best bet at the moment.

“Scaaar…” Mumbo called out weakly. Scar rolled into the hall.

“Mumbo? Was that you? Am I hearing things? Where are you?” Mumbo was apprehensive to answer. Scar began to roll down the hall when he noticed the vase and its contents, some plastic reeds, scattered on the floor. “Ah,” He said to himself. He rolled beside the vase and gently tipped it up. As soon as there was a gap big enough to squeeze out, Mumbo made a break for it. He ran away desperately, looking behind him to make sure he wasn’t being pursued. In his haste and carelessness he ran right into the reeds and got tangled in their leaves. After several seconds of struggling while Scar watched patiently, Mumbo freed himself and kept running, this time watching where he was going.

The next day Scar was sitting at his computer, reading, when he heard Mumbo’s voice come from behind him.

“Scar?” Scar turned and looked around the room until he spotted Mumbo sitting atop a floating shelf. Specifically one that was too high for Scar to reach.

“Yesterday, when you helped me, you said my name, didn’t you?” Mumbo asked.

Scar was confused. “Did I? I can’t remember exactly what I said, why?”

Mumbo pressed, “When we first spoke, we didn’t tell each other our names, did we?”

Scar was starting to catch on. “That doesn’t sound right. I’m sure you introduced yourself!”

“I already knew your name because I hear you and Joel speaking all the time. But I’m sure I never told you my name.”

“I think you’re misremembering…” The both of them were starting to get flustered.

“Scar, I was just curious. It’s worse that you’re obviously trying to hide something. How did you know my name?”

“W-what was your name again anyway? I can’t seem to recall…”

“Come on, I’ve broken my rule to come out and ask you this.” Mumbo insisted. Scar sighed. Mumbo was right. As much as he hated disappointing Mumbo, he deserved a straight answer.

“Sometimes… when Grian comes over, I can hear you two talking. Not entire conversations or anything! It’s muffled. But enough to pick up your name.”

Mumbo dropped his face into his hand. “And Grian’s.”

“Yeah.”

Mumbo let out a heavy sigh. “Okay. Thanks.” He turned around and slipped back out of sight. Scar felt bad about revealing another harsh truth to Mumbo, but he was also a little excited. This was the second conversation he had ever had with Mumbo, and Mumbo was the one who initiated it! As much as he didn’t want to bother Mumbo, he had always wished they would become friends one day.

A few days later, Scar was at his computer again when Mumbo made his boldest move yet. He glided down towards Scar and landed on a push handle behind his head. Scar jumped when he sensed the presence. He was only able to turn his head far enough to see Mumbo out the side of one eye.

“Well, hello there!” Scar said, bewildered. “You’re awfully close all of a sudden!”

“It’s fine.” Mumbo said, “I know exactly what I’m doing. I know my reflexes are faster than your reach. I can get away from here faster than you can try anything.” He had planned it out in his head. If Scar tried to reach for him, he would hop off the back and glide straight for a mouse hole across the room. He was confident he was in no danger at all. Scar raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, really?” He found Mumbo’s overconfidence cute, and was instinctively motivated to undermine it. “Well, what if someone came from BEHIND YOU!!” Scar shouted quickly, gesturing to behind Mumbo, who flinched and looked where Scar gestured. With his guard down, Scar reached up and grabbed Mumbo off the handle. He yelped. Scar only held him for a second and set him right back down, laughing all the while.

“I’m sorry, I had to!” He chuckled. Mumbo stumbled to regain his balance, then pushed off the handle towards the mouse hole. Scar’s expression dropped. Mumbo’s glider failed to catch air properly and he hit the ground, landing very short of his goal. Scar’s expression changed to fear and he started to turn his chair around.

“Are you okay!?” He called out. Mumbo didn’t reply. He was desperately skittering across the floor, trying to scrape his way out of sight as soon as possible. Scar tried to stop him, but couldn’t catch up before he disappeared behind the drywall. Scar sank. He laid a longing hand against the wall and pounded his forehead against it a couple of times.

“Stupid.”

He should have known better. Mumbo was finally gaining enough confidence to try getting close to him and the first thing he did was take advantage of him. Stupid.

Scar didn’t hear anything from Mumbo for a few days. Whenever Joel wasn’t around, he’d announce to the air how sorry he was. He’d write little apology notes and leave them by Mumbo’s access holes. He wrote about how bad he felt and why what he did was wrong. How he promised not to let it happen again. And about how much he’d like to see Mumbo again. Any time he went to check, the notes were untouched. And any time he called out, there was no response. After several days of no trace, Scar called out saying that he was starting to get really worried that something had happened to Mumbo. He asked that Mumbo would please just give him a sign that he was okay. The truth was Mumbo had heard every plea and read every message. Unfortunately, no matter what Scar said, what happened reinforced what Mumbo had always been taught. No matter how nice they seem, humans are dangerous, and they’re not to be trusted. Mumbo was inside the office wall. He still found it easier to work near Scar, but he couldn’t risk being close enough to be heard or seen. Mumbo sighed. He stepped toward the entrance to a shelf, carefully looking out to make sure he wouldn’t be seen. If anything, this whole situation had done a lot to improve his borrowing skills. He reached his arm out toward a thin book on the shelf and nudged it until it fell off. Scar whipped his head around to see the source of the noise. He had hoped to find Mumbo, but just a sign that he wasn’t dead was still a whole lot better than nothing.

That night, Mumbo went to visit Grian. Grian’s condition had improved a lot over the past few weeks. He was slow, but he could walk now. He still spent most of his time on that living room end table. Mumbo waited until Scar, Lizzie, and Joel had all gone to sleep and made his way over. After some hellos and small talk, Mumbo explained to Grian what had happened. He told Grian about how it reinforced what they had always been taught.

“I had to learn it first hand. No matter how nice they seem, humans are dangerous, and they’re not to be trusted.”

“Well, that’s a load of rubbish.” Grian scoffed. Mumbo was taken aback.

“How can you say that after what I just told you?” Mumbo sputtered.

“Oh, come on. You say that like something terrible happened. You got grabbed. For a second. As a joke. Are you even hurt or anything?”

“W-well, n-no.” Mumbo was indignant, but he wondered if Grian had a point.

“Then I don’t see what the big deal is. Take it from someone who’s been at the mercy of humans for weeks against his will. Yeah, they’re big and scary, but they mean really well. If Joel or Lizzie actually hurt me I’m pretty sure they’d implode. One time Lizzie accidentally poked my rib while redoing my bandages and it made me wince and she apologized like a HUNDRED times! I kept telling her I was fine! … My point being, I didn’t want to come here, but when I’m all better, I don’t plan on leaving.”

Mumbo was having a hard time trying to keep that nice idea from breaking through the hard shell he’d put up. It could be a fluke. Just because Grian trusted Joel and Lizzie didn’t automatically mean Mumbo should trust Scar. But looking at everything, it was getting harder to justify not trusting him.

The next day, Scar was at his computer again, playing a game. Mumbo was standing at the edge of the shelf entrance. This shelf was the last safe place he had spoken to Scar. The last place he had been where nothing went wrong. He took a deep breath and stepped out onto the shelf. He looked down at Scar’s monitor, trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at. He took a deep breath, and looked at Scar.

“Hey, Scar.” Mumbo practically mumbled. Scar quickly tapped the escape key and his eyes darted around the room until he found him.

“Mumbo! You’re back!” Scar tried to contain his excitement. He was elated and relieved, but he couldn’t scare Mumbo off again.

“Yeah. I just… needed some time to think. Uh.. whatcha doin there?” Scar turned to look at his game. It had been only moments, but he was so caught up in Mumbo’s return he had already forgotten.

“Oh, I was just playing Minecraft. Do you… know what computer games are?”

“Sort of. I mean, I’ve seen you do this from a distance, but I don’t really get what it is.” Scar explained to him the gist of how video games work and told him about how Minecraft is a sandbox game where you can do all sorts of different things depending on your play style. Building stunning buildings, farming hours away, fighting enemies, or even building complex machines. The machines part really piqued Mumbo’s interest. They set off into a more relaxed, naturally flowing conversation. They both felt like they were finally, for the first time, having a good interaction. Until Scar started to struggle to get his words out. Within minutes, he started to cough and choke so frequently he couldn’t finish a sentence.

“Mate, are you alright?” Mumbo worried. Scar couldn’t answer, and his face was turning pale. Mumbo was panicking. “Scar!? What’s happening? What should I do??”” Scar tried to pick up his phone, but his hands were shaking. Without stopping to think if it was safe, Mumbo jumped off the shelf and glided to Scar’s desk. He pressed the button on the side of the phone and saw it needed to be unlocked. He had seen Scar do this before with his thumb print. He looked back at Scar. Scar was fading. Mumbo reached for his hand, which was still on the desk, and pulled his thumb over to unlock the phone. He opened the phone app and tapped the first name he recognized: Joel. When he heard Joel pick up he didn’t even wait for him to get out a hello.

“JOEL SCAR’S NOT BREATHING I THINK HE PASSED OUT WHAT DO I DO I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO PLEASE”

“I’m on my way.” Joel hung up the phone and showed up within the minute. When he came inside he was already on the phone with the emergency services operator. Mumbo stood back and watched him as he explained the situation and checked on Scar’s condition, seeing if there was anything he could do before the ambulance arrived. Mumbo’s own heart was pounding so loud it practically drowned out the hasty noise of the room.

“Yes. Yes I’ll stay on the line. One second.” Joel turned to Mumbo. “You did the right thing calling me. The paramedics are on their way, you should go hide.”

“B-but, i-is Scar g-going to-”

“Seriously, they’ll be here any minute! Go!” Mumbo hurried off behind the desk and found a nearby hole to scurry off into. He positioned himself at an opening near the ground where he was sure he wouldn’t be spotted. He was terrified to the core, and he had to see what was going to happen. The paramedics came pouring in. Faster than Mumbo could even process, they had Scar loaded into the back of the ambulance and were on their way. Joel followed directly behind with Scar’s wheelchair and some essentials. Before Mumbo could even get a grip on the situation, he was sitting alone in a vast empty house, and it had never felt so soul crushingly lonely.

A while later, Lizzie came home from work. She asked Grian where Joel was and he told her he had stepped out a few hours ago because of a phone call and never came back. Lizzie called Joel and, after apologizing for not calling sooner, he explained what happened and that he was at the hospital with Scar. Scar was stable, but he wasn’t going to be ready to be discharged for a good while. Lizzie asked him to come home but he insisted on staying in case anything changed with Scar.

“It’s getting late. If it’s this serious his family should come stay with him.” Lizzie reasoned.

“He hasn’t got any family close by and he doesn’t deserve to be alone. I think I’m gonna end up spending the night here.”

“Joel, no! Then you’ll just be leaving me alone!”

Joel smirked. “Don’t you think you can share me for just one night?” Lizzie rubbed her brow.

Lizzie realized something, “Wait, you said Grian’s friend Mumbo was the one who called you? Where’s he now?”

“He’s still at the house. Where else would he be?” Joel said.

“He’s not with you?” Lizzie asked.

“What? No! Why would I have taken him with me?”

“Because he’s obviously worried about Scar? Tell me you at least have a way to contact him and he hasn’t just been in the dark since you left!” Lizzie pleaded.

“That was not the most pressing thing on my mind at the time, Lizzie.”

Lizzie sighed. “Fine, then. It’s decided. You watch after Scar, and we’ll watch after Mumbo. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”

“Love you.”

Lizzie sat down next to Grian and asked him how much of that he caught. He said he caught the gist of it and asked what she had in mind for Mumbo. She said she wasn’t sure yet. She was going to play it by ear. She said she’d probably need some help, if he was up for it. She offered her hand and he climbed on. She hadn’t taken her coat or shoes off yet, so she headed right out the door. She held Grian close to her as she walked, keeping him inconspicuously tucked partially behind her coat in case there were any passersby. She walked up to Scar’s door and tried the knob. She shook her head. Joel had carelessly left it unlocked. She gingerly stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She softly called out for Mumbo. No response. Grian pointed out the credenza and asked her to bring him there. She set him down and he swung open the door there made to look like an outlet cover and stepped inside. Grian hadn’t traversed a wall corridor in a while and he forgot how treacherous some of them can be. They’re spaces for passage only, not meant to be stayed in. They can be a bit difficult to traverse. Grian thought he’d at least check Mumbo’s house. This was the closest entrance to it. He carefully climbed down the staircase and looked around the rooms. No Mumbo to be found. He climbed back up and reported back to Lizzie. He suggested they try checking out some of Mumbo’s other favorite spots. He admitted he didn’t know all of Mumbo’s entrances, but hopefully he knew enough of the important ones. Lizzie tip-toed down the hall while Grian called out for Mumbo. After a couple of calls they heard a weak reply coming from the office.

“Grian?”

Lizzie stepped up to the edge of the doorway and knelt down to let Grian go in on his own. Grian limped over to Mumbo, who saw Grian and stepped out of his hole to meet him halfway.

“How in the world did you get here all by yourself? And what are you doing out in the open, those doctors could be back at any minute!” Mumbo asked.

“It’s okay, Mumbo, no one is coming!” Grian reassured him.

“Don’t say that! You don’t know that!” Mumbo snapped back. Grian realized how what he said sounded.

“Mumbo, Lizzie brought me here to tell you that Scar is going to be okay. He’s in the hospital. He’s breathing.” Mumbo stepped back and let out the biggest sigh he had ever sighed.

Grian continued, “Joel told Lizzie more about his condition. I just kind of overheard the gist. Joel is gonna stay with him until he’s well enough to come home.”

“He’s not coming home yet? Why?”

“Like I said, Lizzie knows more than I do.”

“Well then go ask Lizzie already!” Mumbo pleaded.

“Why don’t you go ask her yourself? She’s just waiting out in the hall.” Grian offered.

“Grian. So far, every time I’ve spoken to a human something terribly wrong has happened.” Mumbo moped. Grian put his hand on Mumbo’s back, pressing him in the direction of the door.

“No, every time you’ve spoken to Scar! You’ve never spoken to Lizzie before! I’ve spoken to her lots of times and nothing bad has ever happened. You should give it a whirl!” Grian was admittedly growing impatient about Mumbo’s apprehension towards humans. He strained his injured muscles a little giving Mumbo a shove that sent him a few more steps towards the door. Lizzie piped up from the hall.

“You don’t actually have to come out here right now, if that makes it easier.” Grian was a little annoyed. She was kind of undermining him. Mumbo was slightly alarmed. He hadn’t realized how close she was. But, if anything, knowing how far he had come without realizing only gave him the confidence to close the gap. He started forward. The moment she came into view and he perceived her stature he did an instant 180 back into the office.

“What was that?” Complained Grian. It was the realization that for the handful of times Mumbo had spoken to humans in the past, it had been at eye level or higher. He was not prepared to address a human from the ground.

“Just. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Mumbo said before heading back into the wall. A minute later he reappeared on his floating shelf. It was far out of reach for Scar, but just noticeably above eye level for Lizzie. He invited her into the room.

“Oh, there you are! It’s nice to finally meet you!” Lizzie beamed.

“Why isn’t Scar coming home?” Mumbo asked.

“Right. That. So I didn’t get a lot of details from Joel, and I don’t understand a lot of this medical mumbo jumbo anyw- haha hey, Mumbo Jumbo!”

Grian glared, “Lizzie, come on.”

“Right right yeah, sorry. From what I understand, Scar’s condition is stable. Meaning he’s not completely better, he’s still relying on a lot of medical equipment, but he’s not getting any worse or dying or anything like that. I forget what Joel said the thing was called, but I think it boiled down to him getting over excited at the same time that his heart was doing something funky. That sounds even less informative now that I say it all out loud, but that’s about everything I was able to gather. Sorry.”

“Thank you.” Mumbo said. He tried to think of something more to say, but all he mustered was a second, “Thank you.” Lizzie knelt down and picked Grian up off the floor.

“Mumbo, come stay with us tonight.” Grian offered. “You shouldn’t be alone on a night like this. I insist.” Mumbo tried to think of a reason to say no, but couldn’t come up with one. He couldn’t come up with much at all. He was distracted still thinking about what he did to Scar.

“Okay.”

“Oh, really? I expected that to take some convincing. Okay, great! Uh, would you prefer to come over yourself the usual way, or I’m sure Lizzie wouldn’t mind carrying you. It’d be much faster. You probably don’t want to do that though, huh?”

“I don’t mind at all!” Lizzie added. Mumbo closed his eyes.

“Yeah, I probably ought to go with you.” Mumbo admitted.

“Wait, really?” Grian said.

“You clearly want me to get more comfortable with humans. And I trust you. So yeah. I’ll do it.” Mumbo was pretty certain that if there wasn’t an active crisis taking up all his brainspace, he’d have the wherewithal to deny Grian. Lizzie held her hand up against the edge of the shelf. Mumbo first looked at Grian, as if to take note of how to do it, and then carefully climbed onto her hand. Lizzie made her way slowly and carefully to the front door and then stopped.

“I didn’t think this through. I don’t have a free hand to open this door or a key to lock it.” Lizzie admitted. Grian looked at Mumbo, who was usually the problem solver, but he just looked defeated.

“Mumbo,” Grian asked, “are you able to lock this door yourself from the inside?” Mumbo looked up at the mechanism to evaluate it and compared its height to the ground.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I really appreciate your efforts, Mumbo. But I think the best solution here is for you to lock the door behind us and just meet us there.” Mumbo accepted and Lizzie set him on the doorknob before stepping out and shutting the door behind her. Mumbo turned the lock and glided down to find a way into the wall and make his way next door. A few minutes later he squirmed out from behind the TV and glided over to Grian, who was already settled into his usual spot. Lizzie came into the room and greeted Mumbo with some accommodations for him. She got some extra hand towels so he could set up a little bed as well. Grian and Lizzie made it their goal to get Mumbo’s mind off Scar for the night, since worrying about him wasn’t helping anyone. They chatted about all sorts of things, getting to know each other. Grian was relieved that Mumbo got on pretty well with Lizzie. He was visibly nervous the whole time and flinched every time she moved very much, but he was trying his best. Grian figured it was just a matter of time before Mumbo adjusted and got as comfortable as he had. After a bit, Grian said he needed to use the toilet. Lizzie scooped him up and brought him to the bathroom floor. He ducked under the sink cabinet and disappeared into it. He had a restroom in the wall back there piggybacking off the plumbing of the humans’ one. While waiting, Lizzie walked back near the end table to keep chatting with Mumbo. He cowered as she towered over him. She chuckled, which made Mumbo feel worse. She thought about how different he was to Grian. She figured when she first met Grian, he must have been scared for his life, but he didn’t express it so pathetically.

“What are you so afraid of?” She asked. Mumbo wasn’t sure how to answer. She scooped him up in her palm and brought him to eye level. Mumbo hated the feeling of her hand supporting him. He felt incredibly awkward and terrified.

“I’m not going to hurt you, little guy.” She failed to hide a smirk. She thought she’d tease him, just a little, and maybe the rapport would ease tensions. “It’s fair enough, you know. I could totally do anything I wanted, and Grian’s not even here to help. I wonder, what exactly is it you’re scared I’m going to do?”

“LIZZIE!” Grian’s voice shattered the growing suspense in the room. “What are you doing!?” Lizzie whipped around to see Grian standing in the bathroom doorway with a stern expression on his face.

“Grian! You missed the context! It was just a joke!” Lizzie explained in a panic. Grian wasn’t having it. He could see the look on Mumbo’s face.

“Not funny. Put him down. Now.” Lizzie hastily set Mumbo back down and then helped Grian back onto the table before taking a seat herself.

Grian worriedly asked Mumbo, “I’m so sorry about that. Are you alright?” Mumbo was very not alright. A lot had happened today and he was having a hard enough time as it was without Lizzie intentionally messing with him. Even so, he could recognize that Lizzie’s joke, despite being in poor taste, was just meant to be a joke. And he could clearly see from her expression that she was embarrassed.

“I-it’s fine. I’m fine.” Mumbo lied. He brushed Grian aside and stepped closer to Lizzie. “The truth is, I really do want to get more comfortable with this. I want to be able to talk to Scar without it sending my heart racing. But it’s still new to me and every time I look up at you or see a hand coming at me, my reflexes kick in and I go into panic mode. If anything, this is like, exposure therapy, or something. I think it’s good for me.”

“Yeah, gonna expose you to a heart attack.” quipped Grian.

“Hey, you didn’t stutter at all during that.” Lizzie pointed out.

“I-I didn’t?” Mumbo hadn’t even noticed. “Ha ha! I guess the exposure therapy really is working!”

Grian interjected, “That’s great and all, but I am genuinely worried about you getting overwhelmed, Mumbo. Lizzie, hanging out like this is fine, but you have to remember the rules.”

“The rules?” Mumbo asked.

“When I started to get well enough to walk again, Lizzie started letting herself get a little… grabby. We had to set up some boundaries. Mainly she’s not allowed to pick me up without asking.” Grian turned to Lizzie, “Those same rules apply to Mumbo, too, okay?”

“Yeah, that’s reasonable. I’m sorry, Mumbo. We’re still good, right?” Lizzie held out a finger toward Mumbo. He stepped back and just looked at it, holding his hands up defensively.

“It’s supposed to be a handshake.” Lizzie clarified. Mumbo took a deep breath and slowly reached forward to shake her finger.

“Yeah.” He said, “We’re good.”

Shortly afterward Lizzie retired to bed. Grian told Mumbo that if he was willing to help him through the corridors, they could stay in his house that night. There were a couple of actual beds there, where it would be more comfortable. Mumbo agreed. Grian was excited, because it had been weeks since he had been able to sleep in a real bed. The two carefully navigated to Grian’s house. Grian almost seemed to have magically healed faster, the way he was moving about the place. He was just so excited to be back in the comfort of his own home again. He got out clean linens and prepared the guest room for Mumbo without much trouble. Soon, the two were off to sleep. This was the best sleep Grian had gotten in weeks. It was not so much the case for Mumbo.

Mumbo dreamt that he was back in Scar’s house, standing in the middle of the hallway. Scar rolled into the hallway and turned to face Mumbo.

“There you are.” said dream Scar in a haunting distorted voice. He started towards Mumbo, who made a beeline for the nearest hole in the wall. No matter how fast he ran, he didn’t seem to be getting any closer, and Scar was steadily gaining. Mumbo was stopped in his tracks by Scar’s fingers closing tightly around him and raising him up off the ground. Mumbo writhed and wriggled until he could get his arms free. He tried to rip the massive fingers off himself, but they wouldn’t budge. Dream Scar reached for Mumbo’s face with his other hand, grabbing him by the cheeks and positioning his head forcefully. Dream Scar’s grip on Mumbo's face tightened and tightened until, suddenly, Mumbo woke up.

Panting and sweating, he bolted upright. He looked over at the watch mounted to the wall. A quarter after three. Still catching his breath, he laid back down. He held his hand out in front of himself and looked at it. There was something about hands. He tilted his hand away and remembered shaking Lizzie’s hand. Well, shaking her finger. The whole night had a theme of ignoring how scared he was. He had hoped if he kept pushing past it, eventually, it wouldn’t be scary anymore. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

A few hours later, a loud crash woke Mumbo suddenly. He jumped out of bed and ran out of the room to investigate. He ran into the kitchen and saw Grian standing there clutching a couple of pans, with about five more still settling on the floor.

“Are you alright?” Mumbo asked.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you. I was trying to be quiet but I dropped some pans.” Grian explained.

Mumbo sighed and went to help Grian clean up. Grian was scrounging around for something to make for breakfast. It had been a while since he had cooked and he was still excited about being back in the comfort and amenities of his own home. Mumbo insisted Grian sit and let him do the work. They chatted as Mumbo started picking through Grian’s pantry, tossing out things that had gone bad while he was away. Then, they heard a muffled voice shout from above.

“Grian! Where are you? Can you hear me?” Lizzie called from the living room. Mumbo and Grian looked at each other.

“Yeah?” Grian called back. It felt a bit wrong to be so loud in his house. They heard a shuffling. The ceiling creaked and a little dust spilled down. Lizzie’s voice was closer now.

“I’m headed out for groceries. Did you want me to get you anything?” She asked. Grian thought for a moment.

“A pretzel?” He asked.

“Pretzels. Got it. I’ll be back in a bit!” She headed off. Grian and Mumbo chuckled about the strangeness of the interaction and got back to chatting. Mumbo managed to scrape together enough food to have a bit of a disappointing breakfast. Grian was still pleased at the familiarity of the taste. He liked human food, but it was a pretty different flavor palate from what he was used to. They cleaned up and got dressed, then ventured back upstairs to meet Lizzie when she came back home. They slowly made their way through the corridors. As they neared the kitchen, they heard Lizzie come inside. Good timing. Mumbo pulled back the kitchen tile and crawled through, then helped Grian through behind him. As they walked out from behind the sugar jar, Lizzie had just finished putting the food away and was going to stow her shopping bags. She turned around and jumped at the unexpected sight of Grian and Mumbo standing there to greet her. She popped open the bag of pretzels she had just bought and handed one to Grian. He snapped it in half and offered the other half to Mumbo. Lizzie put the bag away and told Mumbo that Joel called her while she was at the shop. She told him that Joel said Scar would be coming home sometime today. She clarified that he didn’t have to go right away, and if he wanted to he was welcome to stay with them until Scar arrived so he wouldn’t have to be alone.

“No,” Mumbo said with haste, “I want to be there when he gets back. Thank you so much for everything, really. I have to go.” He set his pretzel half down and scurried back into the wall without paying much attention to Grian and Lizzie bidding him goodbye. He had been kept in suspense for so long. He couldn’t bear it. He had to see Scar as soon as he possibly could. He got back home and climbed onto that credenza in the hall by the front door. Time passed painfully slowly. And yet Mumbo spent two more hours sitting still as a rock, eyes locked on that door. Mind spinning.

Finally, he heard the sound of car doors on the street outside, and familiar voices. Sure enough, the door opened and Joel pushed Scar inside. Scar looked the way he usually did after longer hospital visits. He still had the hospital wristband on. He looked noticeably tired from the stress, but, most importantly, healthier. As the door shut, Mumbo stood up and shouted.

“Scar!”

Scar and Joel both looked at Mumbo and froze. Neither of them knew what to do. Scar wondered if Mumbo had somehow not seen Joel standing behind him. He awkwardly tried to discreetly point Joel out. Joel wondered if Mumbo had finally gotten up the confidence to introduce himself to Scar, or if he had just gone insane.

Joel tried to play along, “OH MY DAYS, IT’S A TINY MAN!”

“He knows. You both know.” Mumbo clarified. Scar and Joel looked at each other. This only raised more questions for the two of them. The most present one for both being ‘since when?’

Mumbo continued, “Scar, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t know-”

Scar cut him off, “What are you talking about? What did you do?” Mumbo looked at him with the biggest, saddest eyes.

“They told me your heart got sick because you were over excited. I-It happened when I came to speak to you…” Mumbo explained. Scar finally put it together.

“You think this was your fault?”

“Isn’t it?” Mumbo sniffled. Scar rolled a little closer, being careful to maintain a certain distance.

“No, Mumbo. You’re not the reason I got sick. I promise. In fact, if you weren’t there to call for help, I probably wouldn’t be here right now. You saved my life.” Scar reassured him. Mumbo stared at his shoes, processing. He looked back up at Scar.

“Really?”

“Definitely.” There was another pause before Mumbo accepted this truth.

“Can I see your hand?” Mumbo asked without making eye contact. Scar held up his right hand.

“This hand?” He asked.

“Doesn’t matter.” Scar rolled closer to the table. Mumbo stepped back to make room and Scar laid his hand down in front of him. Mumbo put his hands around the tip of Scar’s index finger. He had been overwhelmed by emotion since yesterday. He realized that he wasn’t fully sure what he was doing. Maybe this was like a hug? Whatever it was, he just knew he needed it.

“I’m really glad you’re okay.” Mumbo said. Scar smiled.

#borrowers #bans art #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #Stuck Here A Little While

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