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#I realized I haven’t ever like actually drawn him
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Ope, I dropped something
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unhingedgirlythings · 30 days
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FUCK IT
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SUMMERY : Reader gets her date interrupted when Hotch calls up asking for her to get to the BAU. Reader rushes over still dressed up and a certain dr can’t keep her eyes off her teehee.
Tags:fem reader , a huge amount of awkwardness, reader is over her love life
A/N: I WANTED AWKWARD SPENCER REID, bare with me tho cuz I haven’t written a fanfic since I was 13 and it was horrible so please be kind and let me know your thoughts :))) enjoyyy.
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You were used to your phone ringing at the WORST possible times, I mean with your job that was something you just had to prepare yourself for. Serial killers don’t take a break just so you can have a girls night out or take a nice relaxing bath after a long day. Although never in your life did you imagine the wave of relief that would wash over you as the all too familiar ringtone blared from your phone. Normally you would groan and feel your body grow more exhausted whilst hesitantly picking up the phone, but not tonight. Nope. Fortunately for hotch, you couldn’t have answered the phone faster. “what’s up” low and behold hotch was on the other end requesting your presence ASAP!
You tried to hide your glee as you glanced over at the douche-ist blind date that the great quote on quote “matchmaker” of the century Garcia, had raved on about the week before. To be fair the date didn’t start off bad, it was actually the most decent one you’ve had yet. Honestly you were ready to finally praise Penelope for actually finding you a decent man to take your mind off the unrequited school girl crush that you had on a certain “kid” genius. somehow you escaped the dude who clearly was stuck in some frat boy mindset, well not without some snarky comment made towards you which you shut down a little harsher then needed but seriously you couldn’t hold back anymore, you had no idea what possessed Penelope into thinking you would EVER consider going home with the king of fucking douchebags (most likely the biceps and tight clothing that the man sported). Nevertheless here you were speeding down the freeway, thinking way too hard about your love life completely blanking and forgetting to drop by your apartment to quickly change into something more work appropriate.
Before you knew it you’ve parked your car, walking into the cold air. A shiver runs down your body and the shock hits you when you realize. Here you are in a little skimpy black dress that clings to your curves in “just the right way” according to Penelope before shoving you out into your car heading to that horrible excuse of a date, “ahh shit. Fucken seriously! Of course this is just my luck … I mean at least I look good” groaning and mumbling to yourself, you make your way into the building. You knew Hotch would be understanding, I mean you never know when you’re gonna be called in and it sounded urgent so yeah, sometimes you and your coworkers walk in with inappropriate work wear. You will never forget the time he called everyone in at god knows what time, Spencer had walked into the room with his pjs sporting a fluffy dress robe, you seriously thought someone was going to have to perform cpr on you that night.
Walking into the building in heels was definitely a pain in your ass, but you managed as you pushed the briefing room door open. A low wolf whistle from Derek Morgan was the last thing you needed right now “damn sweetheart, who knew you could clean up so nicely“ As you make your way into the room, you playfully roll your eyes at him.“haha very funny” you cringed as everyone’s attention was now drawn to you. while taking a seat next to JJ, wishing to be wearing literally anything else “Sorry Hotch, i came straight from..” you hesitate for a second, glancing around before continuing “A date, but this sounded important so I didn’t have time to change”The stoned faced man simply nods at you “It’s fine. You're here, right now we have a lot to cover” He starts debriefing the team, leaving no detail out of the case, no matter how brutal, you tried your hardest to give him your unwavering attention, but you could feel someone’s eyes on you. And out of the corner of your eye see him. Spencer.
His stare was hot and intense, and fuck was it making you become a flustered mess. You glanced at him from your peripheral trying your best to be subtle about it, it was getting harder and harder to focus on Hotch and the case, not Reid. But when his puppy dog eyes drifted up, down and all over your body, your body involuntarily reacted, slightly squirming in your seat. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes turn and lock onto his gorgeous brown ones, a smirk graces your lips as he finally notices your eyes now on him. Looking like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turns pink from the embarrassment and shame of being caught, and god did that make your head spin. Now it was his turn to awkwardly squirm in his seat while staring at Hotch with all his attention. You giggle under your breath at his fumbling awkwardness. Before you know it everyone around you starts to pack up their things and stand up, leaving you confused. Of course you spent the whole debriefing paying so little attention to the case and more on Spencer.
Sighing, you pull the hem of your dress down as you stand trying to save yourself from even more embarrassment. “soooo how did it go? Was he as yummy as you’d hoped?” Garcia wraps her arms around yours as you try not to stumble down the stairs towards your desk “you, my love are officially banned from meddling in my love life” you could already hear the trail of complaints bouncing around in her head as you plopped down onto your desk chair, reaching for the new case folder hoping to catch yourself up before take off in the morning “aww come on I for sure thought you’d be jumping his bones, all those rippling muscles, who In Their right mind could resist” the thought of the man you had seen a few hours prior put a foul taste in your mouth, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust “he was a complete dick, he legit referred to himself as an “alpha male” AN ALPHA ,Only thing I wanted to jump , was off a building at that point” a defeated look from her was all the conformation you needed, no longer were you going on blind dates, and your love life was back to being non existent and sad “sorry Pen I tried, I really really tried, you just have horrific taste in men like my god do we need to get you some help. These guys are basically human garbage” whilst looking up your eyes naturally drift and settle on Spencers desk frowning as you watch him, his heads buried in the case file whilst obsessively jotting down notes like some multitasking god, your heart couldn’t help but pine after his more, the looks you shared moments before didn’t help your case either. Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you drag your eyes away trying to spare yourself from going into one of your Spencer Reid spirals. You look up at Penelope already disliking the pitiful look she was giving you “are you sure your ready to give up?, I mean I know this cute guy who would be super into you, he's just your type “the new voice startled you, turning in your seat you’re met with Emily smirking down at you whilst leaning against your desk inserting herself into the conversation with JJ beside her “wow ok fun, are we all just gonna just dive head first into my personal life?, don’t we have a case to work on?” trying to deter the subject of the conversation off of you was a bust, as the women you call friends gleam down at you with a shared look “yeah no this is too entertaining to sit out on.” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now, letting out a groan you leaned back in your chair covering your face in hopes of hiding the redness in your cheeks “sweetheart, what you need is a good ol one night stand, get a certain pretty boy out of your system” if you weren’t already melting into a puddle of embarrassment, you definitely were now “Morgan shut up please for the love of everything holy”
you could only pray Spencer wasn’t paying attention to the little group that was forming at your desk, maybe he was being good and reading the case file like the rest of them should be doing but of course luck wasn’t in your favor tonight “what are we talking about?” Before you could shut the whole conversation down Morgan happily answered Spencer “oh, we were just discussing Y/L/N’s love life. I think she needs a good root, what do you think?” that stupid smirk Morgan was happily wearing was enough to make your blood boil, now you truly wished to disappear “ok ok that’s enough” you shoot up from your seat avoiding any eye contact with Spencer not wanting to see his reaction to your humiliating red face “conversation over, my love life is going back to being non existent, thank you for your concern but it’s over, officially dead so no more talking about it.” you snatch the file off your desk ready to get the hell out of whatever situation you found yourself in “i'm going home to at least get some sleep before we leave tomorrow or I’ll be a zombie all day” with that you hastily made your way out of the building and into the cool night air once again.
wrapping your arms around yourself in hopes to provide some warmth, you slowly make your way to the car park. Before you could make it to your car you could hear foot steps getting closer and closer until they were right behind you, stopping along with yours once you had reached front of your car. Quickly spinning around you slam them onto the car's hood, arm in your hand, face down and pinned.
“Ow ow ow ow Ow!” Shit. It was Spencer. The man you’ve been daydreaming about and here you were pinning him to the hood of your car. “oh shit sorry, my god, don’t walk up on me like that holy shit Spence you scared me” you pull away off him whilst letting go of his arm and backing away a little. Spencer lets out a hiss of pain as he pushes himself off the hood, rubbing his arm to try and relieve the pain “sorry I was just trying to make sure you got to your car safely. It’s late a-and” he looks at your dress whilst clearing his throat looking away awkwardly “are you ok? you seemed upset in there” he looks back at you whilst giving you a smile that made you wanna pass away on the spot “yeah I’m ok, just having your dating life put on full blast in front of the team like that can be a tad embarrassing” silence was the only response you were met with, you glance up at Spencer trying to think of something, anything to say in this moment “you look really nice by the way, it’s unfortunate your date turned out that way.” His eyes meet yours, your breath gets caught in your throat as heat creeps up your neck to your face “t-thanks” tugging on the hem of your dress you smile sheepishly “not the most comfortable outfit, honestly wish Pen let me wear my sweater but you know”
“Penelope” you both say, you giggle as Spencer chuckles. “Oh by the way, I thought you may want these, may help a little tomorrow” he hands you the notes he took from the briefing, Your fingertips brush against his, the feeling of warmth from his hands sends a shiver down your spine. “Thanks Spence. I appreciate it” you stand there longer than needed before you start to turn away from him. “You know, that even though there aren't any hard statistics, it’s roughly estimated that every 1 in 3 or 4 blind dates actually end up as a success” he rambles on, looking back at him you try to pay attention but you can’t stop your eyes from sifting down towards his lips “so there is a chance” his voice fades away as his words become background noise and your thoughts become louder and louder, all you could think about was him, the feeling of wanting only grew stronger with each passing minute. It didn’t help that his lips were tempting you, calling you in. you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer, will power growing weaker and weaker “fuck it” your body moves before commen sense had its time to put a stop to whatever ridiculous thoughts you had muster up, suddenly your lips press onto his without thinking it through. It was short and one sided yet sweet, the faint taste of coffee and sugar overwhelmed your senses
The sudden realization hits you hard as you push yourself off Reid, the feelings of regret and fear settles itself in your stomach making you feel sick “Sorry I wasn’t thinking, shit sorry, forget that happened ok” you back away keeping your eyes glued to the ground in fear that you’ll look up and only see rejection written on his face. What in the hell possessed you to do that?, why the fuck did you do that, the only reason you kept your feelings shoved down was to protect your friendship with Spencer, nothing meant more to you then the bond you both shared and now you’ve ruined it and for what? A stupid kiss? “wait, uh No no it was just unexpected I didn’t hate it actually quite the opposite” your head snaps back up at a red faced flustered Spencer Reid “don't apologize“ his warm hands warp around your cold ones as he steps closer to you once again “did you um maybe want to try that again? Only if you want to though I don’t want you to regret anything” you giggle as he starts to nervously stumble over his words, this time more confident in your actions your lips find his for the second time tonight.
The taste of coffee meets your lips again as your body relaxes into the kiss, which is very reciprocated this time. The warmth radiating from Spencer chases the cold night air away. As your bodies shuffle closer together. you both hesitantly pull away from each, you wanted to stay here in this moment for as long as possible but of course your bed was calling your name along with the early flight departure. “I should go” you really didn’t want to “I know“ his hands stayed on your waist for a moment before slipping away “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” the sweet look on his face drove you crazy, the urge to say fuck it and stay with him for the remainder of the night was overpowered by the sleepless night before, you settle for placing a goodnight kiss on his cheek instead “night Spence” winking you open your car door and make your way in, you turn the car on and roll the window down to call out to him as he backs away with a smug smirk on his face “sweet dreams pretty boy” with that you drive away replaying the events of tonight in your mind, god you couldn’t wait to get the case over with so you could finally have a date that wasn’t going to end in ruins, especially with the man you’ve been crushing on since your first day, yeah no you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight now.
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heeliopheelia · 2 months
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐎
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genre: fluff, established relationship
word count: 1.7k
warnings: hoon’s quite suggestive, jake’s hinting suggestive content but it’s really up to your own interpretation lmaoo, kissing
a/n: yayyy, this one has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER!! so glad to finally put it out...
masterlist
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LEE HEESEUNG
You can’t help but chuckle into his lips, teeth clashing slightly when his cold hands make contact with the skin underneath your top. Heeseung pulls away from the kiss, raising his eyebrow at your behavior before realizing that the reason for your laughter comes from the touch of hands. 
Already knowing his ill intentions of tickling you by his expression, you put your hands over his and speak before you can even think of your words first.
“Bro, don’t even-”
Your words are interrupted with a loud scoff. “What did you just call me, you little witch?”
“Hey!”
“You see, things like that really make me rethink our relationship.”
You burst out laughing away before shoving his face away gently. “You’re so mean.”
“You’re the mean one for even letting such words come to your mind while addressing me.” 
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile before grabbing his neck and trying to smush your lips together. A whine rips out of your throat when he denies you your kiss and looks at you as if you were crazy.
“Just come here, you dramatic ass! I haven’t seen you in a whole week!”
Heeseung flicks your nose instead. “Exactly! You haven’t seen me in an entire week and the first word that comes to your mind is bro. Really?”
You groan loudly, throwing your head back as you prepare yourself for the next fifteen minutes of bickering with your boyfriend. “Oh my god-”
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PARK JAY
“Why would you ever call me that, oh my god.”
His frown is enough to make you burst out with chuckles. You grab onto his arm as you catch up to him, letting the glass door of the small convenience store shut behind you. 
“I thought that was funny,” you chirp up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently.
“And in public too? You really want me to go gray before my thirties, don’t you?”
You raise your arm up and run your hand through his soft hair, pretending to actually consider his question. “I think you’d actually look rather hot with salt-pepper hair, you know? You’d look ravishing with any hairstyle, really.”
Jay sends you an unamused look as you keep giggling. “Sweet words aren't gonna get you anywhere, miss.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you finally fold as you slip your hand into his. 
Jay intertwines your fingers without skipping a beat, before tugging on your arm and pulling you even closer to him. 
“Please, don’t ever do that again. I might actually go crazy.”
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SIM JAKE
You look with slight disappointment at your boyfriend occupied with his game – too occupied to notice you’ve called him a bro instead of baby for the second time this past five minutes. Sitting boredly on his bed, you sigh again.
“What is it, angel?” Jake asks, eyes drawn to the screen and never sparing you a look. 
You never minded when he spent his evenings gaming, you know everyone has their own stress relievers, but tonight you were just so damn bored you didn’t know what else to do.
“Nothing, bro,” you snap a little sharper than intended, slightly irked by his innocent negligence. “I’m gonna order some take out. What do you want?”
Only then, couple seconds of silence later, your words seem to click and Jake pauses his game and turns to you with a slightly perplexed expression. “Wait… Could you repeat that?”
You roll your eyes. “I said, I’m gonna order som-”
“No, that word you’ve just called me,” he cuts you off with a pout. “Why would you say that?”
You shrug, dragging out your upset act although there’s barely a spark of annoyance in your system by now. 
“Dunno. Maybe I just wanted my boyfriend to pay attention to me finally after I’ve been begging for it for an hour now.”
Jake coos at you before standing up and walking over to you, abandoning his game completely and engulfing you in his embrace. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles into your neck as you fall backwards on his bedsheets, your boyfriend on top of you. He kisses up a trail up to your jawline, then moves to your lips for a moment and dragging it out longer and longer. “Lemme make it up to you, huh?”
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PARK SUNGHOON
“What’s gotten you so quiet?” Sunghoon asks as he nudges you with his hip, standing right beside you.
You finish washing your face before patting it dry with a towel, ignoring his questioning look as he pierces you through the mirror. You put the towel next to the sink before sighing.
“I don’t know, bro,” you say, biting your smile back as you notice his eyebrows raising up at the unusual nickname. “I guess I’m just tired.”
Sunghoon snorts quietly before turning to face you, leaning his hip against the marble counter. “Really?”
You look at him with fake confusion, tilting your head to the side as you blink innocently. “What do you mean?”
“If I remember correctly, I was just blowing your back out ten minutes ago and now you’re here calling me this fraternal slur?” He claps back, smiling lazily as your eyes go wide at his bold words. 
“Sunghoon! Oh my god,” you gasp, smacking his bare chest with your towel. “Have you got no shame?”
He barks out a laugh before walking up to you and grabbing you by your hips. “Maybe that’ll make you think twice before trying your stupid shit on me again.” And as these words leave his mouth, he’s leaning down and smacking his lips onto yours, already pulling you to your bedroom again.
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KIM SUNOO
“A WHAT?” 
Your arms fall to your sides, and you watch as your beloved boyfriend goes into a fucking spiral over a nickname that’s just slipped out by an accident. “Sunoo, baby, please, calm d-”
“I know you did not just call me bro. Don’t ever talk to me again.”
You follow him out of the kitchen from where he storms out, an outraged expression on his face. You stifle your laughter and put on a serious facade as he drops down on the couch with an irritated huff, muttering under his nose about how unbelievable you were being.
You take a seat next to him and place your hand on his thigh. “I swear, I only said that out of habit.”
“Yeah, what’s next in the store for me?” He asks and this time you can’t help but chuckle. “No, tell me. When should I be prepared for you to start calling me homie or gang?”
“It’s not that serious!” You laugh in his face, only making his expression more sour. But how can you help it when he looks at you as if you’ve just pissed in his cereal bowl? 
“I’ve literally never been more offended in my life.”
You wrap your arms around his neck and pepper his cheeks with kisses, hoping this will ease him out sooner. “I’m sorry, my beloved, my heart, my everything.”
“Keep talking and you might be forgiven somewhere in the future.” 
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YANG JUNGWON
“I was thinking about buying that one perfume lately,” you say suddenly, eyes planted at the tv as the commercial reminded you of your last trip to the mall.
“Are you sure?” Jungwon hums, resting his head over yours that’s leaned on his shoulder. “It was rather expensive, no? I don’t want you regretting buying it two days later.”
“I know, bro,” you groan and turn your face to bury it in his neck. You don’t notice his head tilting to look at you a little questionably. “That’s why I’m thinking about it. I don’t know if I’ll actually commit.”
There’s a brief silence before his sweet voice follows after the kiss he presses to your hair. 
“I don’t think that’s my name, baby.”
You pull away, slightly confused, blinking up at your boyfriend. “What?”
“Out of all the nicknames you’ve given me, I liked that one the least.”
It takes you a moment to click and finally comprehend his words, and when you do, you let out a small huff at his still rather soft way with words.
You wrap your arms around his middle. “Oh… Sorry, I didn’t actually mean to say that.”
“It’s okay,” he assures quickly, bringing you closer to his warm chest, a steady heartbeat beating underneath his sweatshirt. 
“Well, which one do you like the most?” You ask, implying to his previous thought. 
Jungwon ponders for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know. I like all of them, really. Won is pretty nice, or my love… I like dumpling surprisingly a lot too.”
You can’t help but laugh at his answer, mind barely recalling the one and only time you jokingly referred to him as a dumpling while you pinched on his dimpled cheek lovingly.
“Gosh, you’re so cute.”
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NISHIMURA RIKI
“Can you pass me the salt, bro?” You ask your boyfriend who’s sitting on your left. 
You’re too focused on frowning upon the bland food you’ve made to notice how Riki’s eyebrows furrowed up at his new nickname. 
After not having a response in the following minute, you turn to him with surprise as you notice the look on his face. 
“I don’t know, sis, I think your hands are fully capable, no?” He chirps at you and you gape at him with confusion before the realization dawns on you.
You snort, shaking your head at your boyfriend. “Don’t be a child, I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out.”
Riki hums. “Dunno, it sounded pretty natural to me, sis. Almost as if it was your regular nickname for me, sis.”
“Stop it!” You whine out, dropping your fork before glaring at the smirking man on your left. “I didn’t mean it. Now, give me a kiss.”
You pucker your lips and lean forward, only to be met with his hand pressed flat to your mouth. Your eyebrows shoot high as he chuckles at you. 
“Sorry but I’m not into incestious relationships.”
“Riki, c’mon!” You groan, kicking his shin underneath the table harmlessly. 
He cups your cheeks with a laugh and squishes your face with his fingers. “‘m just teasing,” he muses before leaning in and closing the gap between you. 
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asbealthgn · 10 months
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wrote this goofy thing as an expansion of this post
It’s very surprising when the door to Eddie’s trailer opens and Eddie is standing there with flowers.
It’s even more surprising when he says, “Happy one month!” with a big grin.
Steve looks back and forth between Eddie and the flowers—wildflowers by the look of them, probably picked around the edges of the trailer park. “Uh, one month of what?”
Eddie gives him an uncertain smile like he’s not sure if Steve’s being serious or not. “Of our relationship,” he says, the last syllable tilting up almost like a question.
Huh. Kind of weird, but at the start of summer Steve and Robin had an ice cream party to celebrate the year anniversary of when they started at Scoops together. So it’s not like this is completely unheard of. Except—
“You and I have been friends for longer than a month,” Steve says, “It’s been like—” he tries to count the months since spring break in his head “—at least four? Unless you don’t count when you were unconscious in the hospital, but that was only a couple weeks, so—”
“I mean one month of our relationship,” Eddie says, putting emphasis on the word. And now his eyebrows are drawn together. Face concerned. And Steve is clearly missing something here.
Did something significant happen a month ago? Some moment where they moved from friends to best friends or something? It was probably about a month or so ago the first time Steve spent the night at Eddie’s trailer, but that wasn’t a huge deal. Steve has spent the night at the Byers’ house before and it’s not like he and Jonathan are breaking out the balloons to commemorate it. 
Steve feels guilty, because clearly there’s something that Eddie thinks he should know that he doesn’t. He doesn’t like this nervous look on Eddie’s face. Steve tries to think like Nancy, tries to put the clues together. But he’s not Nancy. So he’s lost. 
“I’m sorry, dude,” Steve says, “I don’t get what you mean.”
Eddie deflates.
“I know we haven’t necessarily defined it.” His voice is wavering, eyes getting watery. Shit shit shit, what did Steve do? This is so completely out of nowhere and Steve doesn’t know how to fix it. “But I didn’t realize it was actually that insignificant to you.”
Steve shoots his arm out to stop Eddie from closing the door on him. He needs to figure out what’s going on so he can make it right, and that’s not gonna happen if Eddie shuts him out. “Eds, seriously, you’re gonna have to fill me in,” he says, “‘Cause I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Seriously?” Eddie asks, anger over taking the sadness in his voice, “You’re gonna act like you don’t know?”
“I don’t!” Steve nearly shouts, desperate. “Please, man, I’m not trying to piss you off here. Whatever it is, I wanna make it right. You just have to tell me what you mean.”
“You and I,” Eddie says. Looking at him like it should be obvious. When it’s so, so not. It makes Steve want to scream. “We’re—I thought we were together.”
“Together? Like…together how?”
Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie look this pissed off. “Use your goddamned brain, Harrington,” he spits, “Like together.”
Oh. Okay. That’s…something. It’s not that Steve would necessarily be opposed, or even that he hasn’t thought of it. It’s just not true. They’re not together. And he’s not sure why Eddie thinks they are. Yeah, they’re close, but it’s not like they’re closer than Steve and Robin. It’s not like they’re closer than Steve was to Tommy back in the day. He and Eddie haven’t done anything that feels outside the realm of friendship to him. And he definitely didn’t realize that Eddie saw it any differently.
“Um,” Steve says, aware that he’s standing like an idiot on Eddie’s doorstep and needs to answer. “Why?”
“Oh my God,” Eddie says, making as if to close the door again. Steve barely catches it in time. It makes Eddie glare at him. “There’s no way you’re being serious,” he says.
Keeping one hand on the door, Steve throws up the other one in a gesture he stole from Robin. “I really am,” he says, “You know what the kids say. I’m an idiot. You really have to lay things out for me.”
That at least makes Eddie soften a few degrees. “You’re not an idiot, Steve,” he says, “You’re just—oblivious, apparently.”
“Yeah, that too.”
Eddie sighs. “Just come in. We can talk about it.” He steps back and lets Steve come inside. The flowers are still clutched in Eddie’s hand, starting to wilt. Eddie sets them on the table before joining Steve on the couch. 
“A month ago is when you stayed over for the first time,” Eddie says. Steve nods. “And you kissed me.” Steve nods again. Eddie lifts his eyebrows significantly. “You’re not seeing the connection?”
Steve shrugs. “I mean, I guess there’s other ways you could construe that,” he says, “But I thought it was, like, a friend kiss. A goodnight kiss.”
“A friend kiss,” Eddie says flatly. “You kiss a lot of your friends?”
“Sure,” Steve says, “Well, Robin prefers forehead kisses and Jonathan’s more of a hug guy, but I used to kiss Tommy and Carol all the time.”
Disbelief is the main emotion on Eddie’s face. And a whole lot of other ones that Steve can’t quite parse out. “So—everything we’ve done,” Eddie says, slowly, like he’s trying to come to terms with it. “It’s all just…been normal friend shit to you?”
Steve thinks back over the last month, trying to think if anything stands out in his head as non-platonic. Maybe there’s been a time or two when he was kissing Eddie or cuddling up to him in bed or sitting on his lap during D&D where Steve’s felt a sort of stirring deep in his belly. But he figured that was one-sided. His body’s reaction to whatever was happening and not a manifestation of, like, feelings or something. After all, the same thing used to happen with Tommy when they’d do similar stuff. And clearly they were just friends.
After a full twenty seconds of Steve not answering, Eddie drops his head in his hands. “Holy shit,” he mutters. Then he lifts his head. “This—you—the other day. You slept over. We made out. You—you took my fucking shirt off, Steve.”
Yeah, that did happen. And Steve doesn’t have a great explanation for it. “I don’t know,” he says, “It was the heat of the moment or whatever.”
“The heat of the moment,” Eddie repeats, and Steve can’t tell if he’s on the verge of tears or the verge of laughing. Eddie puts his arm on the back of the couch and leans toward Steve. “Can you honestly say that you’re not attracted to me at all?”
Annoyingly, Steve can feel his face start to heat. “I never said that,” he mutters.
For the first time, Eddie looks triumphant. “So you are attracted to me?”
“Yeah, man,” Steve says, squirming uncomfortably. Of course he’s attracted to Eddie. What’s not to be attracted to? He’s smart, funny, hot, good with the kids, good on the guitar, good at kissing. Helped save the world. “You’re, like, it for me. I definitely think about you that way. I just didn’t think you thought about me that way.”
Eddie laughs, the sound containing more disbelief than humor, but still overall a good thing. “I can’t believe the guy who’s been sharing my bed for the past month didn’t think I was into him.”
“Hey, you’re not the only person whose bed I’ve shared.” Shit, that was a bad way to put it. “Platonically.”
Shaking his head, Eddie laughs again. “Clearly, your idea of platonic does not line up with mine,” he says. “But you mean it? You’re into me?”
“Yeah, Eds,” Steve says, “I’m into you.”
“So, does that mean you’d want to be my boyfriend?”
“Apparently I already have been for the past month,” Steve says, grinning.
Eddie grins back. “Doesn’t count if you didn’t know.”
“Then we can count from today,” Steve says, “Starting now, I’m your boyfriend.”
He hasn’t finished saying the last word before Eddie is surging forward and taking Steve’s face in his hands. He shifts onto Steve’s lap, kissing him deeply. 
And it doesn’t feel platonic at all.
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onelittlespiral · 8 months
Text
FML:Relax
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From the moment I arrived, I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I had come on vacation to kick back for a few days and get some action, but the resort had nearly no women and was instead populated with almost all men. They seemed like nice guys when I talked to them, certainly my kind of guys with how jacked they were. Or at least I thought so.
“Hey cutie, wanna come spend some time with daddy?”
“A newbie! Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle and sweet with you.”
“You looking to top or bottom?”
I realized I must have come on the Gay Days, and the men there were not shy about coming on to me. I tried to politely excuse myself whenever they turned the topic to sex. I spent a lot of time at the pool trying to just relax and have a good time, but it was starting to tick me off.
“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before.”
A man came and sat next to me. He was a scruffy guy, tanned and huge like most of the rest of them. The scent of sunscreen and BO rolled off him. His arms were wrapped in some nerdy tattoos but their size clearly showed he worked out hard. If he wasn’t here this week I would assume him to be a good pick for a gym bud.
“Yeah, first time. Didn’t realize I booked…uh…this week. Not really my scene.”
Something in his demeanor changed. It was hard to describe, but I felt a lot more at ease. He leaned over and began whisper to me,
“If I’m being honest. It isn’t much for me either. But fuck these gay guys know how to party. They’ve got just about anything you could want to take, and basically just pass the shit around. You ever actually tried poppers? I was fucked up bro.”
Maybe it was finally meeting another straight guy but I began relaxing.
He continued, “I got some stashed if you want to swing by and try some shit out.”
Maybe this vacation wouldn’t be such a wash.
I stopped by his room later that afternoon. He greeted me at the door and invited me in as he promised to show off the goods. The room was trashed. The floor was strewn with dirty shirts, shorts, and jockstraps. Shot glasses and beers were stuck to the tables. The bed was drenched in sweat. I stepped in and took a seat on the couch, cautions to avoid the mess. He sat down next to me.
“So, what have you got?”
“You now babe,” he said, throwing his arm in the air.
“Whaaaa…haaa” I started before my brain was afloat.
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I slowly leaned forward, drawn in by the thick musk that radiated from his pit. I tried to resist but soon my nose was pressed against it as his sweat filled my brain. I tried to pull back but he rested his arm against the back of my head, pinning me as my brain shut down on the fumes. It wasn’t long before my tongue lolled out of my mouth.
“There you go. Relax. Good boy.”
Good boy. It echoed in my brain, bouncing till it was the only thought left. I quivered in anticipation as I continued to drink in his scent and let his hair tickle my face.
“Yeah, lap it up big boy. This is right where you belong. It was designed just for you, to trap guys and help them fit in a bit more.”
What did he mean by that? But as he told me to lap it up, it was no longer good enough to just smell. I gave a hesitant lick. It only took one as his sweat swam across my mind. All functionality shut down as I worshipped that pit. As I did, I began to feel a change. Deep within an itch, a need developed. A need to be desired by this man… no. To be desired by men. Any who would have me. I felt a new power flow through me, a revitalized energy and strength. He pulled my dumbstruck face out of his pit and gave my hair a quick tousle. His hand glided down my cheek to my chin, and with a firm flick of his wrist pulled my lips to his. He pressed my face to his in a deep kiss as new memories filled my mind. Memories of long nights dancing and drinking at bars. Days working out getting shredded before hitting the sauna for some fun. Of pride parades and glitter in my beard. The longer he kissed me the more I felt myself grow completely comfortable in his arms. I belonged here, with all the hottest guys living it up for a week at the resort. I had been coming here for years to show off, party hard, and fuck into the early morning. My old self was being flushed away, leaking out of my cock, while the new personality filled in the gaps.
My body began to change where his hands brushed over my body. Arms swelled as biceps grew to mounds on my arms. Pecs hung heavy with muscle. Thighs and legs sent slow rips through my shorts until they had burst through, leaving my swelling cock to fight the jockstrap underneath. Feet inched across the floor as my toes curled from the strain. Every inch writhed beneath his touch. He pulled me back to inspect me.
“Damn you’re turning out well, some of my finest work.”
I mumbled in agreement, still stuck in a state of ecstasy as I felt new power surging through me. “Time to seal the deal.”
He slid his jock down, and the full force of his sweat and musk sent my brain swimming. I couldn’t resist as he slid his cock down my open throat, balls deep, and began face fucking me. As his bush filled my nostrils, pre slid down my throat in a steady stream. I felt warm all over, as a deep tan set in. I had come to this resort for years and loved sunbathing and showing off my muscles. The heat persisted, turning to a sweat, the sweat turning to a deep funk. It was the same smell invading my mind and body as he continued to thrust, deeper as my body adjusted to years of sucking men off. It felt like no surprise as a dusting of hair covered my pecs, then pushed down my stomach before my shaved down bush exploded. My pits filled in to better capture my own smell, and keep me just a little high on my own supply.
“Fuck yeah little bro, you’re gonna be so good out there.”
He slipped a hat over my head, and my mind filled with a new purpose. To kick back at this resort and fucking party. To feel pride in who I was and become one of the community. But, most importantly, to grow the tribe and bring more guys into the fold. I felt his cock tense in my mouth as my mind slowed down to accept my place as a gay god, to worship my bros and be worshiped. As thick ropes shot down my throat, I felt strong. I smelt rank. And I was fucking home.
The next day, a new guy showed up to the resort. Skinny, shy, out of place. I came over to talk with him.
“First time here, bro?”
“Yeah, not quite sure I belong.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. Throwing my arm behind my head. My musk caught his attention as his eyes began glazing over, “Why don’t I show you around?”
“Ye…yeah…yeah.”
“Don’t worry,” his face was soon resting in my pit, and I saw his muscles twitch with anticipation, “you’re gonna fit right in bro.”
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kissitbttr · 27 days
Note
hiii, can we see frat!Miguel when he first met muñeca and started crushing on her. I'll love to see how he was always talking about with his brothers. thank you babess
truth be told, miguel never exactly noticed you until you came to one of the fraternities party. you are not an introvert but not exactly a social butterfly either.
he did hear a thing or two about you through beck. since his frat brother is having this weird on and off situationship with a girl named gloria and she’s friends with you. every time the two come over, gloria would mention a lot of things about you to beck and quite hoping that miguel would listen. she discreetly tries to hook you up with him.
not that miguel actually looked for you, he was fooling around with dana at that time. so he may not actually cared about her that much, but he’s not a fucking asshole that loves to play around with other girls when he himself already dating someone.
though the relationship did end shortly after. not exactly surprising.
but something changed in him when he sees you for the first time. or more like—what he saw that one priceless moment during his party and didn’t realize it was you.
“i think i’m in love” miguel mutters softly, pupils dilating as he watched you sucker punched a guy who wouldn’t stop bothering you. earning a few collective gasps from the crowd,
“who?”
“that girl” miguel points when beck comes closer, his eyes are locked in on your figure, still trying to get the guy off your back and it makes miguel’s lips twitch into a sense of proud smile. “damn. she’s got a good strength”
beck looks over at his friend with a smirk. he’s not that good at reading people, but if miguel was ever a cartoon character. there would be hearts drawn on his eyes when he continues to stare at you,
“that’s y/n”
and miguel never whips his head so fast that he’d probably get a whiplash. “you fucking with me? that’s y/n?!”
from that moment on, he cannot stop thinking about you.
since his relationship with dana ended shortly after, miguel finds himself trying to dig into a pieces of small informations about you through gloria and beck. even going around asking people in his class if the knew you.
“she’s in the cheerleading team. you can see her during thursday practice”
it’s what they say. and it confuses the hell out of him.
why haven’t he seen much about you if you’re in the cheerleading team then? fuck. where has he been all this time? not paying much more attention that’s for damn sure.
“she is so dreamy…” miguel sighs, eyeing you through the window glass where he can see you in your practice uniform. laughing with your friends. “wonder if i could make her laugh like that”
carlos and beck share a glance, one of them shrugging their shoulders.
“you know you’ve been doing this shit for weeks now. why don’t you just go and talk to her?” beck advises,
“say that shit like it’s easy, mano” he mutters out, then his eyes wander a bit lower to your thick thighs and he wanted nothing more than for you to put him in a headlock. “she’s a woman—a fine ass woman, and i’m me” he sighs, resting his chin upon the open palm,
carlos shoots beck a ‘what the fuck was that?!’ look and beck could only chuckle,
“does that mean we’re still going to hear you yapping about how in love you are with this chick back at the house since you’re too much of a pussy to ask her out on a date?” carlos questions,
and miguel is quick to push him off the chair
extras:
“have you seen y/n at the game today? fuuuckkk, she looks so damn cute”
“hey beck, ask gloria if y/n is looking for a date. i’m single, i promise! pleasepleasepleaseplease—“
“do you guys think if i wear this one she’d finally look my way? wait no— scratch that I don’t want her to think i’m dressing up for her, wait—maybe i do”
“I don’t think i have ever seen a girl look that good wearing a sundress. do you? nope! you don’t!”
“okay fess up! which one of you told y/n bad things about me?! SHE LOOKED AT ME WITH DISGUST THIS MORNING!”
it has been going on for weeks, making his friends get gradually tired of his constant talks about you. because that’s all he ever talks about when he’s at the frat house. when one tries to get him to talk about something else, he would then shift it back to you,
and it makes them love to gossip about him when he’s not around,
“jesus, beck! you had to tell him her name, hadn’t you? now we gotta deal with this puppy love shit!”
“what?! how is this my fault! he’s the one who’s fucking whipped”
“o’hara isn’t fucking stopping and i am this close to beating his ass!”
“can you or your girl just hook him up with this chick?!”
“don’t tell him this or he’ll cry but— y/n isn’t interested” beck winces making the rest groan
“i swear if i hear her name or muñeca falls off that motherfucker’s mouth one more time, i am going to lose it”
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bakugoushotwife · 9 months
Text
TLC
a/n: this lovely lil comfort fic was requested by my lawfully wedded wife, @keigotakamiz !! i know hawks if your brainchild, so i hope i did him justice! as for everyone else, i know i know, a sfw fic???
pairings: keigo takami (hawks) x fem!reader
cw: periods, comfort, just fluff tehee
wc: 2k
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Keigo was extremely perceptive. He may have a carefully curated persona for the other pro-heroes and the hero commission, and that was not one of a loving and considerate partner. But for you, his character was thrown out the window. He was empathetic, highly in tune with you and actually a very doting and caring man. That’s why he was so anxious, you haven’t been yourself all day. Your replies have been short and almost angry with him while he’s been on patrol, and you turned down every option for lunch he offered. This was utterly unlike you, his easygoing, warm, and bubbly girlfriend. So he cuts his patrol short, Mirko owes him one anyway, she’ll take over. He realizes what must be interfering with his pretty girl’s mood, so he stops to get you the food he knows you’ll like because it’s the only thing you ever crave on your period. He takes the liberty to get some other stuff too, some flowers just to see you smile, a few sweet snacks for after lunch, and the ugliest stuffed animal he could find, an inside joke for the two of you. It started years ago, when you were both still teenagers. He found a Frankenstein-esque plush and held it up next to his face, claiming it was his twin. Ever since then, you’ve gifted each other horrendous stuffed animals just to get the other one to laugh. 
He’s hoping this plan will be foolproof, cutting his day short to come check on you was rarely something you took as a good thing, never wanting to be the reason that he didn’t take his job as seriously as you would hope. However, he felt like this was a special exception, given your curt texts and irritated looking snapchats. He takes the bags and carefully secures them, flying over to your place to get there as quickly as possible. He ducks inside through the open window, looking around your vacant living room and kitchen. He tucks his wings back down, not noticing anything out of place. He approaches your closed door, extending his hand to push it open. His suspicions are confirmed by the darkness of your room, the curtains drawn tightly and the TV on low volume. You were splayed out on the bed, cuddling a pillow for dear life. At the sound of your door creaking open, you sit up quickly, prepared to chuck the pillow at your intruder. 
Your arm falls to the side when you see your boyfriend standing in the doorway, slightly illuminated by the light in the hall. He closes his eyes and gives you a sweet soft smile, holding the shopping bags up by his face. 
“Hey pretty girl. I thought you could use some TLC.” He hums, closing the door behind him before making his way to the edge of your bed. Your irritated gaze slightly softens at the sight of him, and you flop back into laying down, groaning aloud. 
Your back is turned to him, arms still wrapped tightly around that pillow. He sighs a bit. You’re definitely on your period. He reaches his hand out to rest on your hip, squeezing the bone gently. He pushes his glasses up to function as a headband, and he tugs his earmuffs down around his neck. 
“I brought you some food.” He coos, a singsong lilt to his voice as if he’s enticing you to eat. 
You groan again, flailing your body against the pillow. “Don’t wanna eat.” 
“Yes you do, you just don’t wanna sit up.” He chuckles out knowingly, his gloved fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you into a seated position. You certainly don’t help him at all, all your body weight working against him. He sighs, moderately amused by you. He knows better than anyone how clingy you tend to be around this time of the month. You’re powerful and independent, all things he values about you, but he can’t deny how nice it feels to be needed, even if you were playing hard to get. You wouldn’t admit it, but he’d ask anyway.  “Aw, babygirl, did you miss me?” 
You huff, rolling your eyes at him before snatching the bags he brought. You squirm under the covers, a sure sign that you’re pleased by his offering. You fished out your food and some medicine he brought, and finally, your gaze towards him becomes loving, and you lean into his body. He smiles, knowing you missed him more than anything, and while all these goodies were nice, all you ever wanted was him by your side. Sure, you’ll feign annoyance in the fact he took the rest of the day off to hold you and eat shitty convenience store snacks, but after that, you’ll cry your annoyance out in his shirt and then fall peacefully asleep to him telling you all about patrol. 
“Somebody definitely missed me.” He gleams, a shit-eating grin splayed across his cheeks as he presses a kiss to yours. 
You hum in agreement, popping the pills for some relief and picking at the food he brought you. He reached over you and grabbed the bag, digging out the ugly stuffed animal he brought you. It was supposed to be some sort of bird, he thinks, but the way it was printed across the fabric made it look more like a feathered…deer or something. What a perfect gift. He holds it up excitedly. 
“Another one to add to the collection, it made me think of you.” He jests, setting it in your lap. He watches you in adoration, the giggle you give him after you see it was worth any attitude he needed to disarm to get to his sweet girl again. 
You pick up the stuffed animal and hug it close, chuckling at the ugly thing. “Say you, I’m pretty sure this was a misprint of your merchandise.” You tease, checking the tag to confirm your suspicions. Now you’re howling, the ugly stuffed animal was no animal—it was a severely fucked up version of your superhero man. 
He yanks it back from you to see the tag himself, shaking his head at his hero name scrawled across the label. He’s chortling too, horrified by such a mistake but glad it could bring you such joy. Laughter is the best medicine after all, aside from snuggles, of course. You reach over and tug the toy back, cuddling it back to your chest. 
“This is my prized possession now.” 
He rolls his eyes, taking the opportunity to properly remove most of Hawks’ uniform, placing his glasses, earmuffs, and gloves on the bedside table. He shrugs out of his heavy coat and slips out of his boots, tossing the fabric to the floor. He’s certainly not getting out of bed now, not when you’re eating willingly and leaning into his side, an appetizer to cuddling. You groan at the feeling of another cramp rolling through, the medicine not kicking in yet. You pout, your bottom lip wavering and wobbling as you remember how bad the day has been, and that Keigo must have taken the day off to come to your rescue too, and you laid out of work! 
He knew it was coming, so he turns his body a little more to give you access to his chest, where you promptly bury your head under his guidance. His hand comes up to secure you there, resting on the back of your head. The sounds of your little sobs and sniffles soon follow, and he nearly chuckles at how you try to quieten yourself even after all this time. He figures you’re a bit embarrassed to be vulnerable, and he supposes that bit still applies to him as well. But still, you were a leading lady on your own, perhaps it made you feel a little silly to reduce yourself to needing his comfort, so he wouldn’t rub it in too bad. 
“Oh, c’mon babe. Let loose. It’s just you and me anyway, let me be your lil tissue.” He hums encouragingly, his other hand rubbing circles in your back. 
“It’s just be-been such a r-r-rough day!” You stutter through your tears, your wails certainly increase in loudness though, and your hands grasp at his black and yellow turtleneck. He hums through it, knowing you just needed to get it out for a second. 
“I bet, sweets. I’m sorry you’re feeling so bad, but you know I’m not going anywhere ‘til you feel better.” He says, leaning back a little so he could see your face. He smiles sympathetically, holding your tear-stained cheeks in his warm hands. “And before you even start, Mirko owed me a favor anyway so everything’s covered.” 
You smile softly at his comforts, your eyes fluttering shut from the sweet paths his thumbs rubbed in your skin. His smile spreads a bit, and he leans forward to kiss your forehead. 
“Wanna lay down? I’m multi-use, tissue, wallet, sex machine, heating pad, etc, etc.” He smirks a bit, laying back against your impossibly comfortable pillows. He understood why you clung to one until he got here. “C’mere, wanna hold you.” He says a little bit more commanding, just in case you were thinking of being difficult. 
You laugh softly, crawling on your hands and knees back up to your positioning on the bed. He lay on his back, his arms spread to the side as he waited for you to pick exactly how you wanted to curl up on him. He gives you such a kind smile, amber eyes twinkling with his adoration for you. You can’t help but return his grin, his energy always contagious. He reaches out for your hip, tugging you closer to him. You both snicker a bit as you fall the short distance to his chest, laying with your top half stomach down on top of him, legs tangled together in an effort to create maximum comfort. 
“There. Much better, now, huh?” He quizzes, the pads of his fingers smoothing circles into your lower back. You nod, heaving out a long sigh as you snuggle your face into his warmth. 
He knew it wouldn’t be long until you fell asleep, and the prospect made him smile. Whether you ever said it or not, being the only person that could ease your pain and lull you back to sleep was the highest of achievements in his book. He would relish the way you snore lightly and the way you would squirm closer and closer to him as if you wanted to be in his skin. He’ll flip on a show to watch, mostly just for the background noise, because he would watch you sleep. You always looked so peaceful, the stress lines in your face relaxed and your nose twitching on occasion. You were a work of art, maybe a difficult one, but his nonetheless, and he wouldn’t trade this for anything. He prided himself. He can read all your signs, know exactly what you need, and be that. It was the only thing he really wanted to be good at, and luckily he seemed to be a natural at it. He looks down, and sure enough, your lips are parted and barely audible snores slip out. He smirks, and turns the TV up a little, his eyes comfortably watching you sleep until a nap claims him, too.
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thefallennightmare · 5 months
Text
Just Pretend-eight
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: okay, I had no plans on updating tonight(it's already 12:15 in the morning and I have to be up in seven hours) But I realized how crazy busy the next few days are so I said fuck it, and power wrote this for you all! PLEASE ENJOY!
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond
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NOAH
"You're doing it again."
I ignored Jolly as I continued to pace the length of our bus while they watched with worry in their eyes.
"I don't understand. What the fuck happened? I thought I was doing the right thing by telling her." I rambled on while running a hand over my mouth.
"Noah-."
"No," I snapped while stopping in my tracks and looked directly into Nick's eyes. "I tried to tell her about Trey but she believed him over me. I know what I heard. Wasn't I enough for her?"
Nick sighed as he leaned against the counter in the kitchen area of the bus. "We all know that's not the reason she didn't believe you. It has nothing to do about your worth to her, Noah. She has no love for Trey, she's just blinded by what she think she wants. He has her claws in deep and she think there's no way out."
"He's a disease, eating away at her," Jolly spoke from his spot on the couch.
"I'm so fucked," I hastily tied my hair back out of my face. "She'll never see me the way I see her."
Jolly disagreed with a shake of his head. "You don't see what I've seen the last month. I think she feels the same."
Just as I was about to argue with Jolly, Folio fell down onto the couch next to him with a heavy thump while popping open a can of red bull. "She like's you, Noah. Trust me."
"Really? Because with how the conversation went, I think differently. It's clear who she would rather be with."
"You're not seeing it through her lense. Do you not remember how you were with-."
My eyes sliced into Nick as he tried to bring up my ex, again. "Don't."
He shook his head and stood straighter. "No, you're not going to get out of this conversation. I'm tired of you ignoring this. Julie fucked you up, but you needed time to grow from it and move forward. You need to let Y/N realize that and do it."
“I’ve seen you through everything after Julie," Nick continued. "We've known each other since we were twelve years old, trust me when I say this; Y/N's seeing things from a distance right now. She’s afraid she’s going to lose everything, he’s got her fucking trapped in that way of thinking."
Jolly agreed. "All it's going to take is one more slip, and Y/N's gonna see it. Trey is one more vodka red bull away from being fired."
I snorted while resting my hand on my hips. "I doubt that. Trey thinks he's the heart and soul of that band. There's no way he's going to get fired."
"Have our hunches ever been wrong?" Nick sighed. "Look, I think we all knew that there was something there, even before you met her. You were always so drawn to her music, then you met her and I’ve seen you smile; actually smile, Noah. I haven’t seen you smile like that in years. I think I can speak for us when I say; you’re not alone. She loves you too."
He shrugged as if mine and Y/N's feelings for each other were that simple.
I fell into the couch behind me with an almost defeated groan. "I don't know, guys. It feels pretty one sided right now."
"Just give it time," Folio smiled. "It might not be an easy road but we all see it; even Malcolm and Chase. Trey see's it too that's why he's acting like this. He knows Y/N's slipping from his grasp."
"Fuck him," I grumbled while leaning my head back to look up at the ceiling.
"Noah," Jolly's soft voice eased the growing tension.
I hummed in response, not bothering to look at him.
"Did you kiss her?"
My head snapped up at his question, heart hammering heart in my chest when I remember it; the memory never left if I was being honest.
"Yea," I sighed, not bothering to lie.
They all knew, it was clear on the unsurprised looks on their faces, but Nick's shoulders fell slightly. "You're really in deep."
I clasped my hands together as my arms rested on my thighs. "I know."
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READER
Noah brushed past me, his anger radiating through me in waves, as the tears fell from my eyes to the ground below. My mind was swirling with so many words, I couldn't focus on what hurt the most.
"Trey cheated on you."
"No, I get it loud and fucking clear, Y/N! You're so afraid of how you feel for me, for us, that you're staying with something familiar even though he treats you like shit!"
"I don't deserve this," I wiped away the tears and turned slowly on my feet to head back to the bus but halted.
Did I really want to go there knowing that's where Trey was? What would I do? Confront him or ignore it like I did everything else?
Instead of walking towards my bus, I turned to take a few steps when I realized I was walking towards Bad Omens bus almost out of habit. I peered up through the windows to see Noah pacing while talking with his hands, no doubt telling the guys about what happened. For a moment, I forgot about the last hour of my birthday and remembered all the great things everyone put together for me today.
Even through the clear anger on his face, Noah looked ethereal in the low light of the bus. Out of everything he said tonight, the one thing I believed to be true was my feelings about him. I knew early on that I felt more than a normal friendship with him but it scared me to death.
There were these chemicals that passed between us when we kissed and it made us cling to one another. It blinded me for a little while to all the bad in my life until it came crashing down light a fit of rain. Noah was a miracle, and although I wasn't spiritual, he'd been this glimpse of bliss, a taste of heaven that my body desperately needed; my soul desired.
Now you fucked it up because you believed Trey over him.
I forced the negative thoughts out of my head and peered down to the still healing tattoo on my ankle before those imaginary walls built up inside of me, just like they were weeks ago when tour first started. Veering away from the busses, I walked to behind the venue as the physical pain in my heart cut off the oxygen in my lungs. I was gasping for breath, tears burning in my eyes, and I reached out a hand to grasp the brick of the building.
"Y/N!"
Malcolm's frantic voice called from behind; or in front? No, from the side?
Everything around me became hazy, fading to darkness as it gripped itself around my throat squeezing the life from me.
"Y/N," his soft hands on my face brought me back from the void as I stared up at his emerald eyes; filled with concern.
I pushed his hands away. "Leave me alone, Malcolm."
"Stop," he demanded as I tried to walk away, his large frame standing in front of me again. "What the fuck happened?"
"It's none of your business," I gritted out through clenched teeth.
I wasn't irritated with Malcolm, more so myself for being a fucking idiot.
"Hey, don't talk to me like that. It's me!" He grabbed my shoulders and gently shook me. "What did you do? I ran into Folio and he told me you and Noah got into a fight."
"Malcolm," my breath wavered as I averted my gaze to my dirty vans.
"Why are you pushing him away, Y/N? Noah cares about you, he would like about something like this."
I swallowed thickly. "Because-shit. I can't get upset about Trey cheating because I'm no better than he is."
I expected Malcolm to rear back in shock or scold me but he didn't. Instead, a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips.
"Chase and I had a bet to see who would tell us about the kiss first. I'm shocked you kept it a secret this long," he smirked.
"How did you know?" I asked dumbfounded.
He shrugged. "Ever since you two came back from Keaton's funeral, you've been happier; brighter. And every time I would watch you, you'd be looking at Noah's lips with a dumb grin on your face."
I playfully smacked his chest which caused him to break out in laugher; one I shared with him. It felt good to get that off of my shoulders.
"Honestly, Y/N,' Malcolm turned serious. "Why are you even with Trey? You know you don't deserve to be treated like this."
"You know why," I stared at him, all the words I couldn't say being held in my gaze.
“Sweets," his old nickname for me was something I hand't expected, and it was enough to break down those walls. "Come on, this band is you. It’s you. They come to see you. We’re in the band with this prick for you. You’re not gonna lose us, Y/N. As for Noah, he’s a good guy. Don’t spin the wheel on him and make him the bad guy when he isn’t.”
I choked out a sob as I wrapped my arms around myself. “I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know. I don’t love Trey, Malcom, I don’t. How can I face Noah now? Everything is so messed up."
Malcolm's arms pulled me into him and I melted, the familiarity of his scent and warmth was exactly what I needed to breathe a little easier. Both him and Chase had been brothers to me the last handful of years, they knew what I needed before I knew myself.
"It’ll get resolved, sweets. It will." His hand smoothed away the hair from my face. "Just give it time, you and him will make amends and either be friends or go about doing whatever you want to do. But, make a choice. Don’t lead him on and don’t punish yourself for the sins of Trey."
"You're right," I sniffled and wiped the snot on the back of my hand.
"Course I am," he now ruffled the hair he just finished smoothing down.
"You've been hanging with Jolly and Noah too much, I think," I giggled while pulling away from him. "You're such a philosopher now."
He wrapped an arm around me and began leading me back to the busses, much to my dismay, but I knew I couldn't avoid Trey forever. I needed to face this head on.
"I hope you had a good birthday before everything went to shit," Malcolm frowned.
"I did," I nodded. "I'm glad you guys told the Bad Omens guys about it. Means a lot."
As Malcolm rambled on about how Chase and him were talking about getting a bigger flat in Los Angeles once tour was over, I kept replaying the words he spoke to me, humming a tune along with him.
Just give it time.. hmm hmmm. And if you and- him, no. And if you and I-  hmmmm.
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NOAH
Three days. Three fucking days since I last talked to Y/N, and I was going insane. She wanted space to think about everything and space was exactly what she got. Trey did a great job at keeping her on the bus when they weren't doing soundcheck or playing a show. My phone burned in my hand every time I tried to text her but ended up backing out.
She needed space; I reminded myself but that didn't stop me from what I did last night during our set. Her, Malcolm, and Chase were watching us from side stage and when I felt her dead eyes staring at my back, I looked over my shoulder at her; the words from my song tangling between the webbed connection that was growing stronger every day that passed.
"We're just two wrong souls that met at the wrong time. So just go your way, and I'll go mine. You'll be alone with someone new until the day that you die and I'll watch from afar to make sure you're alright."
Y/N rubbed her elbows and turned her back to me, leaving my line of sight.
I expected her to text me after that but she didn't. Chase reassured me she was fine and told me not to worry, she would come around eventually.
The darkness that filled her usually bright eyes was the only thing that stared back at me now as I hung out in the green room, hours before our show. I was talking with Jolly when her soft voice carried into the room, broken reflection staring behind me in the mirror I was standing in front of.
All I saw in those dark eyes was someone who was heartbroken, in love with the idea of who she thought Trey was, that she didn't realize there was a heartbeat standing in front of her, beating and bleeding for only her.
"Shit, I was looking for Trey." She muttered while clutching her sweater close to her chest.
Not only was she spending more time with him, Y/N was back to wearing clothes that hid herself from the world. Anger filled my veins as I kept my eyes on her reflection in the mirror, blowing out a deep breath.
"I don't know why you thought he'd be in here," I said flatly.
Jolly gave me a look of disapproval before shaking his head. "Have you checked the bus?"
Y/N turned towards him. "Uh, yeah. Sorry for bothering you guys."
"You're fine, Y/N," Jolly's soft voice stopped her from leaving the room prematurely. "You're never bothering us, alright? We're here for whatever you need."
"I know you are but," She nodded towards me. "I'd say Noah thinks differently."
"You really want to know what I think?" I spun on my heels to face her.
Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not getting into this with you, Noah. I've been through a lot of shit the last few days, the last thing I need is your dissapointed sighs every time I walk into the room or the way you tell me how you really feel through your lyrics."
"How I really feel?" I scoffed while running a hand over my jaw. "You know how I feel, angel. But you walked away."
"I didn't have a choice, Noah! Trey's my boyfriend!" She snapped.
Gone was any sympathy I felt for the situation. In this moment, all I felt was rage.
"He's cheating on you!" I threw a hand out towards the door of the room. "Where do you think he goes every time he disappears? Surely not getting drunk all the time. If he is, it's with someone sucking his dick, probably."
Y/N's hands shook at her sides. "Fuck you."
"Why are you so hell bent on believing he's the only one for you?" I demanded taking a step towards her.
Jolly, who was still in the room, watched us with careful eyes. He knew we needed to hash things out but still wanted to make sure nothing went too far.
"I have too!" She seethed while pushing me away. "Trey's not as bad as you guys think, okay? He's the one that gave me a place in this band; He believed in me so I have to believe him."
"Do you love him?" I questioned while grasping her hand as it remained on my chest.
She blinked, and for a long moment, said nothing as she thought of her answer. But I never got the answer because Matt poked his head into the room.
"What the fuck, guys! I've been looking everywhere for you. We have this interview with a reporter in two minutes."
"I need a minute," I quipped towards Matt but kept my eyes sternly on Y/N's face.
He went to protest but Y/N slipped away from me, creating more distance.
"No, he doesn't. I'm done with this conversation."
"Angel." I went to reach for her hand but she recoiled back as if I burned her.
"Just stop, okay? I already made my decision. I don't give a fuck if you don't like it but it wasn't your choice. Whatever you wanted to have with me, Noah; it's not going to happen. I'm with Trey because he understands. He knows me; you don't."
She was out of the room before I could digest her words completely.
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READER
Everything is so fucked.
I sat on my bunk with my knees pulled to my chest, forehead resting on them, as the tears continued to fall onto the blanket beneath me. My body felt drained of any light or energy from how much I cried the last few days that I wasn't sure how I'd be able to perform tonight. There was only three shows left on tour, maybe fans would understand if we canceled them? Have Ethan post something on social media letting them I didn't feel well and needed the time to recoup?
Right, they'd probably burn our merch because I didn't come out myself and say this.
Wiping the snot and tears on the sleeve of my sweater, I went to tuck myself under the blanket when I heard some commotion from the front area of the bus.
"You sure we're alone?" A quiet but feminine voice spoke.
"Yea, she's probably groveling for that kid's forgiveness right now. Bitch is so obsessed with him, I'm supposed he hasn't kicked her to the curb yet."
Trey.
My heart sank as I sat up a little straighter in my bunk, careful not to make a sound.
"Why are you still with her then? She seems to hold you back from achieving greatness."
Trey snorted. "She's nothing without me, babe. I'm the one that gave her everything she has and she knows it. All Y/N's good for in a hole to stick my dick in but even then all she did was bitch about how much it hurt or wasn't feeling good enough for her. Surprised I even continued to fuck her after she bled on my dick."
My jaw went slack as my heart broke into tiny little pieces, falling into the pits of my stomach.
How could he? Trey knew about my condition, he was there when I got the diagnosis all those years ago and needed a shoulder to cry on. And the bleeding was only because the pain was too much for me. I knew I should have stopped him but I remember biting my cheek, hoping it would subside. Eventually it did, but I didn't know bleeding during sex was a side effect with this condition.
"Thank fuck I wore a condom with her every time," Trey grumbled.
"Well," the women's voice turned sultry. "You don't have to worry about that with me. I can be whatever you want me to be tonight. I'm just so thankful you found me waiting in line for the show tonight. I wished for this."
"You sure you don't want one of those kids from Bad Omens? Their vocalist has a thing for stealing what's mine."
"Oh, please. Noah Sebastian? He's a talentless slender man. I can't believe you guys are touring with them. They're clearly riding your coattails to fame because Noah know's he'll never be the man you are."
Okay, that's it.
Ripping the curtain open, I stormed into the front section of the bus just in time to see Trey forcing his tongue down this girl's throat. I stumbled over my words when I noticed how young she was; she had to be twenty years old.
Ten years younger than Trey.
"What the fuck," I spat.
They both broke apart and while the girl looked shocked as hell seeing me, Trey narrowed his eyes at me.
"What are you doing here?" He demanded.
It took me a few moments to gain my barrings before I finally snapped my gaze towards the young girl. "How old are you? Don't even think about giving me a bullshit answer. I have people that can find out who you are in a matter of minutes."
She shifted on her feet. "Seventeen."
Fuck-make that thirteen years younger than Trey.
"Oh my Hades," I pinched my eyes shut while taking a deep breath.
"Y/N, baby. She was only asking for a picture," Trey tried to explain.
"Of what, your dick?" I snapped.
"Atleast I'm giving him something," the girl crossed her arms over her chest while popping a hip out to look tough.
"Really," I raised a brow. "You have two seconds to get off this bus before security hauls your ass out of here in cuffs with everyone watching that."
She huffed. "I'm not afraid of some security guards."
I hummed while pulling out my phone to take a quick picture of her and Trey's arm wrapped around her neck.
"But I bet your afraid of your parents finding out that you're sneaking onto tour busses with men ten years older."
The girl paled. "You don't know my name, how would my parents find out?"
"No, I may not know your name but social media is a powerful thing," I shook my phone. "All I have to do is post it on my Instagram and one of my half a million followers know you."
"Y/N-," Trey warned.
"Oh you know what," I snapped my fingers. "I bet you follow Trey. Won't be hard to find a blonde."
I made a mock show of scrolling through my phone and continued to ramble on. "Here I thought I was Trey's type; brunette and older. Apparently I was wrong."
"Are you done with your jokes?" Trey groaned while running a hand through his curls.
"Oh, here you are!" I ignored him by holding up my phone in mock victory. My eyes bounced between my phone and the girl. "Your picture doesn't do you justice."
"Wait!" She yelled with her hands out towards me. "Please don't! I'll leave and forget this ever happened."
I smirked while motioning towards the bus. "Let the door hit ya on the way out."
Once alone, I snapped all of my hatred and anger towards Trey. "You're fucking unbelievable! She's a child you disgusting piece of shit!"
"More experienced than you," Trey shrugged.
I blinked, appalled in so many ways. "Why the hell did you even stay with me then, Trey?" I asked.
"A good hole when I couldn't find what I needed."
God, why did I ever think he loved me?
"You're a real asshole," I shook my head. "I can't believe I took your side over his."
That angered him because Trey tossed his jacket off onto the couch before pointing over my shoulder. "You want to talk about me? Lets look what's inside your suitcase."
Storming passed me, he ripped my private suitcase from an empty bunk and tossed the contents all over the floor at my feet. The three gifts Noah has bought be over the last few weeks standing out like a sore thumb.
Trey snatched up the bracelet and necklace. "You wanna talk about me? What the fuck is this?”
“It’s just a bracelet and a necklace. Trey, don’t even say it’s the same." I rolled my eyes, not seeing it the way he was.
"Bullshit," he spat at my feet. "You had no problem fucking keeping it did you? Is this from him?!"
When I didn't answer, he lost it and tossed the jewelry across the bus, his loud voice carrying through the open windows of the bus.
"It is, isn’t it? You had no problem fucking accepting it did you?”
I stood tall against him, this time not backing down as Trey picked up the wolf stuffed animal Noah bought me from the outing at the zoo. "What the fuck is this? Are you ten? You need to sleep with a stuffed animal?"
I choked on a breath when he tossed it out of the window.
"You're not going to turn this on me! You sick fuck!"
“No, I think we will. I’ve known for years you couldn’t hack it. You can act innocent like you haven’t been falling for this other guy this whole fucking time! That arrogant fucking prick thinks his little bring me dupe band is gonna make it."
Trey punched the wall next to him, causing me to jump slightly. "Shit-fuck them and fuck him."
“How dare you!" I pointed a finger at him. "They work fucking hard, harder than you ever have, Trey. Fuck, you're a piece of shit. I can’t believe I've ever cared for you.”
“Fucking ditto baby," Trey chuckled darkly. "You think he’s gonna fall in love with you and magically make your problems go away?"
My hands clenched into fists at my side. "I never said that but-."
"Do you really think this dude is going to want to waste thousands of dollars on implanting something that should fucking work? Christ, that has to be embarrassing for you; go ahead and tell him. I'd love to see if he stays with you."
He paused for a long moment and I was livid, anger pulsing through me he went that low.
Trey took a step towards me, almost getting in my face as his voice dropped. "Noah doesn’t know how fucking broken you are and I bet with all the money in the world, you can't magically fix this."
He motioned towards my body with a limp finger.
"Fuck you, Trey!" I pushed him away from me with all my strength. "Let me clear this up for you and don’t stop me if I talk too fast. It’s my life not yours! And it’s my heart; my soul! It isn’t yours anymore! You’re self destructive so maybe we’re even."
"Remember, baby, I found you when you were nothing, I tried to make you something! Turn you into a star-but now look at you, a fucking bitch on a leash and for who? Him. He just wants to pump and dump ya baby, like so many others."
The sound of skin on skin echoed out of the open windows as I slapped tray across the face, his eyes burning daggers into the ground.
"I fucking hate you. I can't believe I wasted years on someone like you! You fucked me up so bad, how can I ever love someone else without thinking their cheating on me? I'll spend my entire life wondering if I'm good enough for anyone else, does that make you feel good? Knowing that I'm fucked up."
Trye sneered while snapping his head up towards me. "I'll sleep like a fucking baby; something you'll never have."
Another slap followed by another. He took a step towards me while raising his fist and as I prepared myself for the impact, feet pounding on the ground were my saving grace.
"Mother fucker!"
Chase tackled Trey into the wall behind them, forcing his forearm into Trey's neck, cutting off his oxygen. Malcolm was at my side, eyes scanning over me for any injuries; physically there were none but emotionally, I was cut up from the inside out.
Ethan, our manager, must have heard the commotion as well, because he was now standing on the other side of me, eyeing Trey with a questionable gaze.
"Chase, let him go," Ethan spoke slow.
It only made Chase tighten his grip on Trey's throat. "Piece of shit deserves this. He was about to hit, Y/N."
"Deserves. It," Trey choked out with a sickly smile.
I turned away from him, tears falling from my eyes suddenly as the sobs attacked me with such force I fell into Malcolm's arms. Ethan stepped up to Chase and left a gentle hand on his back.
"I can't kick him out unless he's free to leave, Chase."
Trey's eyes widened with either the loss of oxygen or what Ethan said. "You can't."
"We did," Malcolm spoke while rubbing my back. "It's already been decided."
“Hollow souls is my band!” Trey finally got the upper hand over Chase and pushed him away.
When Chase went back to choke him out, I desperately reached for his arm to pull him close to me. I was a distraught mess, and I needed them.
"Three to one motherfucker, you’re out!" Chase held his head high.
Ethan stepped between us while motioning to Trey. "Get your shit packed up, there's a cab already waiting for you."
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NOAH
"Do you guys hear that?" Folio said while leaning over his bunk so he could look at me upside down. "It sounds like someones fighting."
I shrugged while pulling out one of my headphones, pausing my music. "Maybe Jolly's watching a movie too loud again?"
"Nope," Jolly leaned down in front of my bunk. "It's coming from Hollow Souls bus."
Scrambling out of my bunk, I pushed passed Jolly to run out of the bus in time to see Trey loading his bags into the back of a cab. As if he could sense me, he threw a dark laugh my way.
"Hey prick! Are you happy now?"
I shrugged with one hand in my worn out blue and white star shorts while the other hand threw up the peace sign and turned my back to him to leave. I made it all of two steps before Trey's voice called behind me.
“I don’t know what the fuck you see in her, anyway!”
That made me turn swiftly on my heels to flip him off. "Every thing you didn’t."
Once the cab drove off, I turned towards Hollow Souls but to see Y/N standing on the last step. Her eyes were red and puffy, hair a disheveled mess from her running her hands through it as some strands stuck to her face because of the tears.
Fuck, I was supposed to be made at her because of our fight earlier but seeing how broken she looked made me want to wrap my arms around her.
"Noah," she choked on my name through sobs. "I-I'm-."
Stay strong. You can't fold because a pretty girl is crying in front of you.
But-.
No buts. She told you whatever you wanted to happen, wasn't going to. She doesn't love you.
"Noah, can we talk," her bottom lip wobbled. "Please."
I shrugged with my hands still deep into my pockets. "Seems like you said everything you needed to say."
As much as my heart was screaming for me to go back, I kept walking towards my bus knowing that I had to get ready; Bad Omens set was starting in less than an hour.
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NOAH
"Thanks Seattle! We hope you stick around for Hollow Souls! They're bound to put on a killer show!"
With a final wave towards the crowd, me and the guys ran off the stage just in time to see Malcolm and Chase looking frantic.
"What's wrong with you two?" Folio questioned while wrapping a bandaid around his pinky.
He went a little too hard on the drums tonight and somehow ended up slicing his pinky pretty good.
We all knew that Hollow Souls was panicking since kicking out Trey because not only did they lose their screamer but also their guitar player. He deserved to be fired, and it was a long time coming but now that the venom has cleared from the bands veins, they realized how fucked they were. While we were on stage tonight, I could see Ethan running around with his phone pressed to his ear, trying to figure out replacements.
"We can't find Y/N," Chase ran a hand over his buzzed head.
I nearly dropped the water bottle I was drinking as my stomach dropped out of my ass, heart beating a thousand miles a minute. "What?"
Malcolm ran a hand over his face. "She spun out, man. After you brushed her off earlier, she took off saying she needed some space. She left her phone on the bus and hasn't come back. Chase spent the last hour looking for her. We don't know where she is and we still have to decide what we're going to do about the last few shows."
Jolly squeezed Malcolm's shoulder. "It'll be alright. We'll go look for her."
"No," I shook my head. "You guys stay here, I'll go find her. In the meantime, your guitar tech knows all your songs, right?"
Chase nodded. "Yes, but how does that help for the screams?"
"Nick, have your phone by you so I can call you when I find her," I said, already working my mind on places she could be.
I pointed to Folio next. "You and Jolly head back out on stage to throw out some sticks or guitar picks. Anything to distract the crowd."
Before the doubt could stop me, I barreled through the back door of the venue, the cool air brushing over my heated skin as I looked to the left then to the right.
Where are you, angel?
Suddenly, I remembered something from one of her old live streams she did last year. A fan asked her where she liked to go when she needed time to think.
"Oh, thats easy," she answered with zero hesitation. "The rooftop of the venue were playing or the rooftop of my apartment. I love looking out at the vastness of the city almost like I'm Zeus staring down at all the other demi Gods."
My feet traveled faster than my brain did as I ran around back, quickly finding the ladder that lead to the rooftop. I climbed with ease and reached the top in a matter of seconds, eyes scanning for the long hair that I dreamed of.
There.
Sitting on the ledge with her head in her hands was Y/N, body shaking with sobs. I approached slowly, not wanting to scare her.
"Angel."
She hastily rose to her feet while wiping away the tears. "Noah? How'd you find me?"
"I remembered you said you enjoyed sitting on rooftops; almost like you're Zeus."
Through the tears and pain etched in her face, the briefest of smiles poked through until she remembered everything that happened a few hours ago. Even through the mess of make up, knotted hair, and blotchy skin, I wanted to grab her face to crash my lips to hers.
"I was an idiot," she sobbed. "I should have believed you about Trey but I was so blinded by the lies he spewed. Everything was a lie. He never loved me and I knew I never loved him."
As much as I wanted to talk, I decided it would be best if I stayed quiet so she could let everything out.
"He was the venom inside of me, draining me of my light and soul. I let him do that; let him change who I was. God, I'm so stupid!" She covered her face with shaking hands. "I can't believe I believed him over you!"
"Angel," I said again in a soft voice.
She either didn't hear me or didn't bother to stop. "You know, deep down I knew he was cheating. Where the fuck does he disappear to all the time? But I stayed with him because I thought no one would want me with what's wrong. I'm broken, every part of me unfixable, and Trey made me think no one would want to spend the money or time."
Y/N kept rambling on, not letting me get a word in, so instead I pulled her into my embrace, hand resting on her back while she buried her face into my shirt, gripping ti with all her might.
"I'm so sorry. I should have believed you. I'm such a fucking idiot."
I laid a soft kiss to the top of her head before tilting her chin up towards me. "You're not an idiot, angel. You said it yourself, you were blinded by who you thought Trey was."
She sniffled as I wiped the tears away. "But you never lied to me; there was no reason for you too. I said some hurtful things to you, Noah. I don't understand how you could ever forgive me for that?"
"Water under the bridge," I shrugged with a light chuckle, hoping it would ease the mood.
It didn't.
"I don't want to lose you, Noah. I can't lose you." She sobbed again.
I cupped her face this time, forcing our gazes to lock. "You won't. I forgive you."
"Wh-what?" She stammered.
"I forgive you, angel."
Earlier this afternoon, I hadn't planned on forgiving her this soon. But I suppose one step of my maturity is how seamless it was to accept the apology. Usually, I'd sit there, let the person ramble some bullshit I knew wasn't true. However, now, I sat up straight when I looked into those eyes, those eyes I felt deep in my gut weren't lying. She truly has been conditioned, like some kind of Stockholm Syndrome and I understood all too well what that was like. I lived that for years-desolate.
Seeing Y/N crying, broken, and afraid of losing me for the choices someone else made, I decided I would not be a boy. I was a man, a grown man, one of little words when I couldn't stop overthinking. However, I decided that communication was key; it's what gotten the band this far.
I was going to be a man, a man she deserved to have in her life; no matter what it cost me.
"You do?" Y/N peered up at me through lashes. "You don't, I don't know-hate me?"
"No," I said firmly, hands still gripping her face.
Her wet eyes sparkle with the setting sun. "Not at all? I-."
"Stop, angel. Stop," I stood taller. "I will not lash out at you to get even. I'm not going to make you get on your knee's and grovel either. We had an argument, discussed the situation. You apologized, I forgave you, and we made up."
"Just liek that?" Y/N wondred.
I brushed a kiss across her forehead, breathing in her scent. "Just like that, angel. I'm not him. I see the road ahead of me and I choose to take the high one."
Her grip on my hips tighted, almost afraid I would change my mind and walk away; never in a million years could I walk away from her. We were connected so deep, our souls would fade to the earth benethe our feet if we were to lose one another.
"Well, I must confess Noah; this is all new to me. I'm letting my guard down to let you in. I've been trying to sleep at night to avoid this thing between us, whatever the hell it is. You're the one at the foot of my bed trying to keep me alive at night."
My heart damn near soar so high into my throat, I was afraid I'd choke on it.
We stayed like that for a long few moments; me rocking her softly in my arms, until reality struck causing me to switch from my embrace around her to linking our fingers together.
"Come on, you've got a room full of fans waiting for you," I tugged her along.
"Shit," she cursed. "How the hell am I supposed to explain to them what happened to Trey?"
The corner of my lips lifted in a smile. "Well, think of something."
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READER
"Hey, Seattle?! How are we feeling?" I spoke into the microphone.
My throat was raw from all the crying I'd been doing that I could barley speak, let alone sing.
The crowd cheered wildly, ready to watch Hollow Souls perform. It didn't even bother them I was still dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a matching crop top sweater.
"Well, unfortunately Chase, Malcolm, and I have some news," the crowd's cheers went dead silent as I pointed to Chase on one side of me and Malcolm on the other. "As you can see, Trey isn't on the stage with us. Because of personal reasons, he's no longer apart of Hollow Souls."
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop from the streets outside. I swallowed my nerves, forcing myself to continue with what I knew I had to say next.
"So with that being said, we as a trio have decided to-."
Suddenly, loud cheers and applause reverberated in my ears as I watched Noah run onto the stage, holding up a hand in the air.
"Excited to see me again, Seattle?"
I blinked at him, confused why he was on stage again. "What are you doing?" I mouthed.
"Well, it seems like Hollow Souls need a fill in for tonight?" Noah briefly ignored me to continue speaking to the crowd.
This time the screams were so loud, I was sure some glasses broke on the bar in the back of the room.
"If it's alright with my beautiful friend here," Noah smirked at me. "I'd love to fill in. We've got your guitar tech filling in for Trey."
I then saw Mike, our tech, give me a small wave. Everything was happening so fast, I barley had time to register Malcolm stole the microphone from me. "Yes, Noah I accept. We would love your help for tonight."
As he walked past me to prepare himself to fill in, I placed a hand on his stomach. "Thank you."
He brought the hand from his stomach to his lips, pressing soft kisses along each knuckle. "Anything for you, angel."
Holy shit. I thought Hollow Souls sounded amazing with Trey but I was wrong; so fucking wrong. Noah was something I never thought I needed; personally and professionally. They way we sang together, the energy palpable. It was nothing like I ever experienced with Trey. The way Noah and I connected with our vocal ranges, hell even our fucking souls were connected that much I knew. But as Noah screamed out hte last line of our final song, I swallowed hard when those scary, unknown feelings hit me.
I love him.
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cuubism · 1 year
Text
a time of need
Hob’s having what he’d thought would be an easy Sunday, puttering around the house catching up on chores and rest, when the worst headache he’s ever had splits down the middle of his skull.
It’s worse, even, than the time he’d taken an actual cleaver to the forehead, and woken up two days later still unable to see out of one eye. Hob’s hands shake and he barely manages to make it to the couch before he collapses. He shuts his eyes in agony and—
--then he’s in the Dreaming. So fast, between one blink and the next. And he knows, instinctively, that he was called here, by Dream or by the Dreaming itself. But he’s never been called like that, with a call full of such pain.
He staggers to his feet in the throne room. The sky high overhead, usually a placid field of stars, is swirling with red star matter, like the Dreaming has fallen into the heart of a nebula. It casts a crimson sheen over everything.
Lucienne is hurrying towards him, steps clicking sharply on the marble floor. “Hob? You should not be here. Lord Morpheus has closed off the heart of the Dreaming.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t intentional.” Hob takes in the deep creases in her expression as she reaches him. “What’s going on?”
“We are under attack.” She squeezes his arm, imploring. “You must go.”
“Under attack? What, Hell?” Hob remembers Dream mentioning it had happened before.
Lucienne shakes her head. “No. I do not know the details.”
A cavernous boom! echoes through the hall, shaking the walls. Lightning streaks across the sky, jagged scars that leave harsh afterimages in Hob’s vision. He pales at the sound. “Is he taking them on – whoever they are – by himself?”
“The dreams and nightmares are helping as best suits this kind of fight. But you must go.”
Hob shakes his head. “No, he called me for a reason. Where is he?”
“Hob—”
“Lucienne. Please.”
She relents, still troubled. “He is outside the palace gates, I know not precisely where. You will be drawn to the nexus of his power, I am sure.”
That’s good enough for Hob. He runs down the palace steps and across the bridge to the gates, reaching them much faster than he thinks should probably be reasonable, but then again he is in the Dreaming. The gates open to let him out, and then clank shut behind him.
The feeling of power is much stronger out here, as if the palace and its grounds had been held in a protective bubble. Lucienne was right about Dream’s power drawing him in; Hob finds him easily, standing at the bank of a river that seems to now be flowing with lava instead of water, and he’s just— just surrounded by… creatures.
Hob can’t define them any better than creatures, they are amorphous and shifting, claws and teeth and legs and wings emerging then disappearing again. He wonders why they haven’t gone to flank the palace, attack from all sides, before realizing that just as Dream’s power has drawn Hob in, it is also drawing the creatures to him. Making him the only target.
He isn’t carrying a weapon or even wearing armor or anything, and Hob’s heart pounds as he runs to him, and—
A creature leaps for Dream’s throat. Dream reaches into the air – into a dream? – his arm disappearing, yanks, and pulls a ribbon of flames straight through the creature’s body, throwing it out across the landscape. Grass scorches, and the other beasts in the fire’s path screech.
Another is leaping at his back, hundreds of teeth appearing from the shrouded mass of it in midair. Hob’s about to shout a warning, but no need. Dream turns, flings open his coat. The creature barrels in and falls into the swirling galaxies in the lining, its shriek cutting off sharply.
More run for him. Dream disappears into a dream, then reappears seconds later, a good twenty meters from where he’d been.
On the edge of a cliff.
A cliff which the beasts that charge for him hurtle off of, a cliff which was definitely not there before, because Dream brought it with him from the dream, mother of God, how is Hob even supposed to help here at all?
Well, fuck it. He’s got to try, doesn’t he?
As soon as he thinks it, there’s a sword in his hand. Dream doesn’t make note of his presence, but he must know Hob’s there, mustn’t he? Dream called him there, though God knows why.
Regardless, the creatures are so focused on Dream that Hob is able to take out two of them with his blade before they even notice he’s there.
They don’t… die, in the way he’d expect. They sort of scream and explode into dust, drifting off in the wind. He hopes they aren’t just going to reform or something.
“You are creatures of warmth,” Hob hears Dream say, across the field, to the rest of the creatures. It seems like there are more, not less, like they’re multiplying. God. “Please enjoy my warmest hospitality.”
A vicious blizzard descends on them. 
Snow whips in wild gusts across the landscape, ice biting Hob’s cheeks. He can’t see Dream very well anymore. He hears a splash and a creature howling, and imagines Dream must have pulled a frozen lake from a dream about ice skating, or perhaps from a nightmare about drowning. 
He makes his way towards Dream, determined to stay by him so he has someone at his back, even if that someone is Hob, whose powers here are meager in comparison to Dream’s.
He finds creatures in the snow and slaughters them, all of his sword work from decades past coming back to him. They come at him with fangs and claws and tails bristling with spines, but Hob isn’t afraid. His desperation to keep Dream safe is far more powerful than that.
Irrational, to want to keep Dream safe in the Dreaming. But he feels it all the same.
“This is my realm,” he hears Dream growl from somewhere in the storm, voice reverberating despite the howling wind. “It bends to my wishes. But you? Let us see how you like the dark.”
And he turns off the sun.
The Dreaming is plunged into absolute, pure darkness the likes of which Hob has never seen. There’s no moon, no stars. Hob blinks and throws his hands out, trying to balance.
And then realizes…
He can see.
Somehow. Not with his eyes, quite. But with some kind of direction at the back of his head, like the Dreaming itself is guiding him. Neat, that. Also quite likely to drive him mad if it lasts for any amount of time.
He follows the direction of Dream’s voice and finally gets close enough to see him again. There are still so many damn creatures, where are they even coming from? They are blundering now, in the dark, but must have other senses for they’re still managing to, eventually, turn for Dream. Hob watches him turn the ground beneath a group of them into quicksand. They scream and flail as they sink.
“Do you not tire?” Dream asks, idly. “Do you not relent? That is disappointing, for I tire. Of gravity, in particular.”
The realm turns upside down.
Hob’s feet stay planted on the grass as his brain spins wildly to reorient itself, but the creatures aren’t so lucky. They go tumbling down – or up? – into the air, screaming. Hob wonders if Dream’s just accidentally done the same to the entire realm, but no— looking behind him, he can see the core of the Dreaming, the palace, all the residences, still oriented the same way. Opposite to them. What in--?
Maintaining two sets of opposing gravities at once seems to be costing Dream. His chest heaves. He flips them back over again, pushing his sweaty hair back from his face. The sun pops back up into the sky, too, which is… Hob decides to interrogate it later and just be grateful for the light.
“Dream!” Hob calls, as soon as his dizziness subsides.
Dream spins to him, seeming startled. “Hob?” 
So then he didn’t realize Hob was there, at least not consciously. By the time Hob reaches his side, the sword has dissolved from his grasp. “Fuck. That was… insane. Are you okay?”
Dream looks at him, brow furrowed. The rushing winter winds die down as their eyes meet, leaving drifts of snow behind. “Why are you here? You should not be here, it is not safe. I have closed off the heart of the Dreaming. How?”
“You… called me?” Hob says. “I think.” 
Dream’s frown deepens. “I do not… recall. Regardless, you must go. The Dreaming is not safe at present.”
“Why? Isn’t the fight over?”
“No.” Dream looks out at the horizon. A wave of sickly, mixed colors is growing there, like oil spreading across the sky. “The real fight has yet to begin.”
“What? What about all those creatures?”
“Those were scouts. Hunting dogs.” Dream huffs. “Their masters thought perhaps they would get lucky and catch me unawares, not have to dirty their hands. Foolish. They will pay for it.”
Hob looks around, horrified, as that oil keeps spreading upward from the horizon. With it, a wave of what Hob can only describe as grayscale follows across the landscape. Color leaches out of everything and disappears. Dream watches this, expression tight but measured, following the arc of the spread.
“Aren’t you going to do something?” Hob asks.
“Let them expend their energy. Color is immaterial, I will restore it later.” 
“Lure them into complacency?” Hob guesses, faint.
Dream nods. He looks even more dramatic with no warmth to his skin, all stark black and white lines. 
“What are they? The invaders?” Hob asks.
Dream hums. “The closest waking world corollary would be… bacteria. It is a sickness, of sorts. They would infect and devour us.”
Hob means to say something intelligent but what comes out of his mouth is, “Bacteria have hunting dogs?”
“Well, they hardly have teeth of their own,” says Dream. 
Hob shakes his head, as if that could possibly help to clear it. “And you’re going to fight these things on your own?”
“My dreams and nightmares are already helping me by letting me pull from them, so that I do not have to create everything from scratch,” says Dream. He watches as the oil spill completes its transit of the sky. The only color now is the swirling above them. “This is not a fight of physical prowess. You must leave.”
“I can’t die, Dream.”
“I would not see your mind shredded on my behalf.”
“Is that going to happen if the Dreaming doesn’t fall?” 
Dream frowns. “Not… likely. And the Dreaming will not fall. I will not let it.”
“Then it’s settled,” Hob says.
Dream sighs. “You are monumentally stubborn.”
“That’s what got me this far in the first place. Can’t stop now.” 
That pulls a tiny smile from Dream. “No. I suppose not.”
A shudder runs through the landscape, vibrating under Hob’s feet. Then another, like the ground itself is shivering. Hob shifts to maintain his balance, as he might once have on the deck of a ship. Dream doesn’t move at all, like the shivers travel right through him.
The air goes hot, then cold, then blazingly hot again, struggling with itself. The snow around them starts to steam. Dream’s jaw clenches, and the temperature drops violently once again, below freezing. Hob’s breath fogs in the air.
Dream is glaring at the horizon. “Stay present,” he tells Hob, in the tone one might use to call, On your guard!
Never bring a sword to a battle of minds, Hob thinks deliriously. His blade hasn’t rematerialized, and it would be useless anyway. Hob himself feels useless, but like hell will he leave Dream’s side.
“How did they even get in?” he asks.
“The boundaries of the Dreaming are porous to permit the passage of dreamers,” says Dream. “Unsavory things sometimes slip in as well.”
“Often?”
Dream’s eyes glint. “Only when enough time has passed that the folly in doing so has been forgotten.”
It’s in moments like this that Hob really thinks about how old Dream is. It’s easier to conceptualize his age in this way, funnily enough. An ancient lord once again protecting his kingdom from invaders is something Hob’s mind can grasp, even if the timescale in this case is absurdly long.
“Going to teach them a lesson, then?”
Dream smiles, slow and predatory; Hob sees in it the nightmare of every prey animal that has ever dashed through a dark forest, fleeing the gleaming of teeth. “Oh, yes.”
He closes his eyes. His fingers flutter at his side, like he’s plucking the strings of an invisible harp. Snow lifts in swirls around them, though there’s no longer any wind. Another shiver runs through the ground.
“What are you going to do?” Hob asks, at a whisper. He doesn’t know why he whispers; it just seems right in the face of the approaching power storm.
“There are known ways to destroy a waking world bacterium,” Dream says. His eyes are still shut, brow furrowed in concentration. “Burn it out, freeze it out. Take away its sustenance. Make the environment unsustainable for it. But bacteria that feasts on dream matter cannot be destroyed by something as simple as temperature; the temperature is, after all, a part of the Dreaming itself. It can gorge itself on the heat and cold as easily as on anything else.” 
“So what will you do, then?” Hob asks.
Dream’s lips quirk up in a smug smile. “I am the Dreaming,” he says, not actually answering the question. “They cannot have me. If they insist on having me, then I will simply not exist at all.”
Before Hob can so much as say wait!, Dream's power screams into being around them more tangibly than Hob’s ever felt it, the air charging up with electricity, the fabric of the realm warbling around them. His ears pop with the pressure change, a whine pitching higher and higher in the atmosphere and making him wince, and Dream’s form fuzzes in and out like TV static.
Dream’s hands rise at his sides like he’s finding his balance in the shifting world around them, or perhaps conducting the dreams in an invisible orchestra. He hums, pleased with whatever he can feel rumbling through his power. Then he presses his hands outward.
Hob… doesn’t know exactly what happens, then. 
It’s like everything blinks out, then back on again, like turning on and off a light switch. It’s so quick his body doesn’t even react until several seconds later, when a tremor of unease shivers up his spine. For it wasn’t like before, when Dream had blacked out the sun – Hob would swear that in that millisecond of darkness he felt nothing, not the ground under his feet, or the air he was breathing, or his own clothes against his skin. He’s not even sure he existed in that moment.
Everything around him is exactly the same, except that those threads of oily color circling the sky have disappeared. Just like that, gone, the bacteria dead, or at least banished, and Hob has no idea what Dream even did.
Everything in the Dreaming looks the exact same--
--except Dream.
Dream looks like he tumbled down a cliff then ran ten kilometers through bramble bushes. His hair is falling in clumps over his forehead, his long coat torn, his forehead prickling with sweat. His nose is bleeding, the red of it shockingly bright as color leeches back into the gray landscape, though he pays it no mind as it trickles over his lips. His hands are shaking where he holds them out, fingers now closed into fists.
“Any of you who have survived,” he snarls, glaring up at the sky, presumably speaking to the remaining bacteria, “carry a message home to your people. Enter my realm again, touch a single one of its inhabitants, and I will personally unmake your entire species. Do not test me.”
Is unmaking a species even in Dream’s power? Hob wouldn’t have thought so, but he wouldn’t care to test that theory right now, were he the species in question.
Dream wavers, then, and Hob just barely manages to lurch forward fast enough to catch him as he falls. He goes to his knees in the snow, and Dream collapses against him, shaking horribly. He coughs, a horrible, wet sound, and blood spatters Hob’s shirt.
Hob’s heart jumps into his throat. “ Dream —” He tries to get him down onto his side, but Dream clenches his hands weakly in Hob’s shirt.
“I will be—” he starts, and is cut off by more coughing, blood dripping from his lips. “Fine, in—” Another spasm of coughing. A tremor shakes violently through him.
“Shhh.” Hob holds him close. “I got you.”
Dream heaves for breath. He feels feverishly hot, now, sweating and shivering. “What the hell did you even do? ” Hob asks, running a hand over his back, a bit frantically.
“I unmade the Dreaming,” Dream says, each word a wheeze, “ripped it back into-- into its original grains of sand. Thus. Expelling the bacteria. Into the void that surrounds us, where it-- cannot survive. And then I put- put the Dreaming back, exactly as it was. It must--” he wipes blood from his mouth with a shaking hand, only succeeding in smearing it all over his cheek-- “must be done in an instant. To avoid causing harm.”
“What?” Hob breathes, a vast understatement for the horror and awe that he feels. “Dream, what?”
“Breaking my ruby gave-- gave me back power I hadn’t-- hadn’t seen in eons.” He coughs once, hard, spitting up more blood onto Hob’s shirt. “Nevertheless, I may be… down here for a while.” 
Hob smoothes a hand over his shivering chest. “It doesn’t seem like it’s avoided causing harm.”
“Causing no- no damage is impossible, but I managed to contain it within-” he wheezes-- “within my- aspect- and not the rest of the Dreaming.” 
“I didn’t even know you could bleed,” Hob says faintly. It’s more disconcerting than feeling the world unravel around him to see Dream shaking and coughing up blood. He’s heard that Dream was weakened when he first escaped his long imprisonment, before he’d recovered his tools, but this is on another level. 
“Usually, I cannot,” says Dream, which doesn’t help at all.
“Alright, let’s get you down, then.” Hob maneuvers Dream to lie on his side on the ground. Dream rests his head in Hob’s lap, eyelids fluttering. Around them, the world seems to waver, and then stabilizes again. 
Dream feels it, too, and says, “Worry not. The realm is stable. It is merely. Reacting to me.”
“My concern’s really you right now, love,” Hob says, running a hand through Dream’s hair. “Though it’s good the place isn’t going to collapse.”
Dream hums at his touch, closing his eyes. His breathing’s evened out, but it doesn’t seem like he’ll be getting back up under his own muster anytime soon.
It’s not long before footsteps crunch in the snow behind them, wingbeats by their side. “My lord!”
“Lucienne.” Dream’s voice is a low rumble against Hob’s thigh. “Matthew.”
“Boss!” Matthew lands on the ground beside them, Lucienne reaching them a few moments after. Matthew’s gaze catches on the blood on Hob’s shirt and he says, “You hurt, Hob?”
Hob shakes his head and nods toward Dream. Matthew squawks in alarm, feathers puffing up, and flies up to land on Dream’s shoulder, nudging at his hair with his beak.
“I am fine, Matthew,” Dream says without opening his eyes. It’s somewhat unconvincing considering how hoarse his voice comes out, and the fact that one of his ears is now bleeding.
Hob is… fairly convinced that he will be fine, once he’s rested. Fairly. 
“Just put himself through the ringer, that’s all,” he says, wiping the blood that’s trailing from Dream’s ear away with his sleeve. “We’ll go home, get some food in you, have a nice bath, and get some rest, hm?”
Dream hums in agreement. “Lucienne, how fare the dreams?”
“Everyone is frightened, but safe,” she reports, then adds, sounding fond, “They were a bit confused by the sun going out.”
“Yeah, that was an interesting party trick,” Hob agrees, and Dream chuckles.
It’s still bloody cold out here, post-blizzard. Hob doesn’t trust Dream’s usual I don’t feel temperatures excuse when he’s so drained of power, so ripped apart. 
He gathers Dream up in his arms again, wrapping his coat tighter around him. “Let’s get you in from the cold.” 
“So… we’re just not gonna talk about that moment when we all went to the shadow realm, then,” Matthew caws as Hob gets to his feet, lifting Dream up with him. “Do I want to know what that was?”
“Probably not,” Hob tells him, as Dream says, “Hob Gadling, I am capable of walking.”
“Uh-huh,” Hob says with no confidence. “Sure, love. Just indulge me. Consider it some kind of foreplay for later, if it makes you feel better.”
Matthew mutters, “Ick,” but Dream smiles and relents.
“Much later,” Hob warns him. “Mister Coughing-Up-Blood.” 
Dream rolls his eyes, but allows Hob to carry him.
Fortunately, it’s not far – the Dreaming transports them quickly back to the palace, though with less certainty in the movement than usual. “Lucienne,” Dream says as Hob divests him of his long coat and lays him in his bed. He looks like he’s about to try to pop back up, and Hob presses a hand to his shoulder, subtly keeping him down. “Please instruct everyone to let me know immediately if they find anything awry. The realm is cleansed, but I do not like to take chances.”
She inclines her head in understanding, casting a small smile in Hob’s direction, too, for good measure. Presumably for his efforts in keeping Dream lying down.
Matthew lands on Dream’s knee. “Seriously, boss, you good? I don’t know what was going on exactly, but whatever it was felt… not great.”
“I am ‘good,’” Dream confirms. “Some amount of damage is usually sustained in fighting off an illness, is it not?”
“If that’s how you want to put it,” Matthew says.
“I’ll look after him,” Hob reassures them both.
They take their leave then, Matthew giving Hob a little salute with his wing, and then Hob and Dream are alone. Hob slips Dream’s boots off, laying a blanket over him, then sits beside him on the bed, resting a hand on his chest. “Are you feeling any better?” he asks. “You have to let me know if it gets worse, I’m dead serious, Dream.” 
“I’m not certain what weight that carries when you cannot die,” Dream says.
Hob raises an eyebrow. “Try it and find out. Now, still.” 
He finds a damp cloth – thanks, Dreaming – and starts wiping the blood from Dream’s lips, and his hands. 
“I see now why the Dreaming called you here,” Dream muses. “No one else would dare speak to me in this manner.”
“The Dreaming called me?”
“I did not. Not intentionally. I would not have brought you into such a battle.”
“Well, I wasn’t much help anyway,” Hob observes. He tips Dream’s head up and gets him to drink some water, likewise manifested by the Dreaming. “You did all the work with your world-bending powers.”
“Perhaps you are a reward,” Dream suggests as Hob lets him lie back down. He finds Hob’s hand and kisses his fingertips. 
“Oh, yeah? A prize for your heroism?”
Dream tugs on his arm. Hob slips off his own shoes and discards his blood-splattered shirt, and obediently lies down beside him, gathering him in his arms. Dream cuddles up to him, giving a pleased hum, resting his head on Hob’s shoulder. “A comfort.”
Hob runs a hand through his hair and kisses his forehead. He still can't help but worry a bit, after everything he saw Dream do, but it's good to see him feeling more comfortable. “Sweet thing. You were very brave. Clever, too.” 
“You do not have to praise me for performing my function,” Dream grumbles.
“Yeah, but you love it.”
Dream mutters again under his breath, but doesn’t move away. Hob squeezes him tighter, and he softens again. 
“Get some rest, now,” Hob tells him.
“You will stay?”
“Course. Think I’ll abandon my king in his time of need?”
Dream hums, evidently pleased.
“But am I going to wake up with a terrible hangover after this?” Hob asks. “Whatever the Dreaming did to summon me felt like getting hit over the head with a pickaxe.”
“Maybe,” Dream says, sounding only the slightest bit chagrined about it. “It had to pull you through the barrier I had constructed.”
He tucks his nose against Hob’s throat, snuggling closer, and Hob just sighs, defeated. “Worth it, to be here for you,” he admits, and feels Dream smile.
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ash-is-dying · 9 months
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Temporary Tattoo
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A/N: Felt compelled to write a quick blurb after drawing one of these on my own hand. Idk guys the delulu is really getting to me today. Anyway enjoy!
Shy!Eddie x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 782
Fluffy / Mildy Spicy Blurb
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“Just stay still Eddie!”
“But you’re taking forever!”
The pen runs over his knuckles as you outline the bones on his hand. You had spent the entirety of calculus at the back drawing on Eddie’s hand. He had breached the topic of getting a skeleton hand tattoo so you had made the generous offer to be his temporary tattoo artist.
His various rings had been scattered across the desk and the sleeve of his hellfire shirt had been rolled the full way up his arm exposing his actual tattoos alongside the detailed sketch on his left hand. You sat knee to knee with the boy as the arm you’re drawing with pins his arm to the table and the other holds his hand flat.
For someone who was covered in hidden tattoos you’re genuinely surprised by how much he moved while you were working and how whiney he was being about you taking too long.
“How long?”
“Eddie I haven’t even done your wrist yet. Chill your balls. We’ve still got half an hour anyway.”
He throws his head back and sighs deeply. His other hand starts to fidget, miming the chords for some metal song or another. His eyes close and he looks like a toddler who’s been denied chocolate from the shops. His head lolls to the side to look at you.
You’re completely oblivious to the look he gives you as he studies your concentrated face, biting your lip and your brows furrowed as you smoothed over the outlines you had drawn. Unbeknownst to you the real reason he was so all over the place wasn’t because the tattoo was taking too long.
It was because you were the one drawing it.
When you had started your gentle touches had left him flinching, moving towards your warm hands. Hence the need for physical restraint. Eddie’s cheeks flushed the moment you had wrestled his arm under yours, your closeness making his heart jump start. He could spend hours here just having you draw all over him. He’d let you fill every gap between his tats if it meant he could keep you like this.
The only reason he was now encouraging you to hurry was because he didn’t need the artist girl he’d been crushing on for months noticing the semi he was sporting. He had tried to slide further under the desk to make it less obvious but the hold you had on his arm was making things increasingly harder.
In both ways.
“I don’t think we need to do the wrist, just my hand is fine-” he said sharply.
“But didn’t you want a half-sleeve anyway? Thought you wanted me to try the whole tattoo.”
“As cool as that would be I kinda need my arm back sweetheart-” He says with an edge of panic in his voice.
“Okay okay, I’ll be done in ten.”
The next ten minutes were probably the longest ten minutes of his life.
For the fine detailing you had made the decision that you needed to get even closer. You had rotated his arm and had folded your leg over his, just adjacent to where he desperately needed you not to be. He watched anxiously as you shifted to finish off the tattoo. He genuinely tried to sink into his chair and disappear. If you had even a hint of what was happening under the desk he would be absolutely mortified.
“Why do you get so many tattoos Eds?”
Her sudden question pulls him out of his head. “Oh- um. I guess because they look cool? And they help me express a part of myself that I want to show people rather than tell them about.”
“Fair enough.” There’s a long pause. “Can I ask you something?”
Eddie’s brows raise in concern. “Yes?”
“Do you get this turned on for all your tattoo artists or just me?”
The silence is deafening as his eyes widen in shock and realization. He stutters as you move off of his lap unable to find the words. The bell goes and you begin to pack up your things not sparing him a glance until you put your hand on his shoulder and lean to whisper in his ear.
“If you ever need another tattoo done… call me okay.”
You give his cheek a quick peck as you turn away and walk out of the room with a flush on your face, leaving behind an extremely flustered and red faced Eddie. He looks down at his arm. It’s amazing of course. But what really catches his eye is the messily written phone number on the underside of his arm.
Maybe he will get another temporary tattoo.
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"hey Lucid Dreamer make up your mind, caught on the other side."
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"you dream for the one you swoon."
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synopsis// a boy you believed to simply be a figment of your imagination ends up being real.
pairing// izuku midoriya x gn!reader
word count// 3.4k
contents// fluff? maybe like a hint of angst? UA is a hero college, y/n's quirk is never told/explained but plot armor yk.
notes// i feel like this kinda sucks n is kinda cringe bc i wrote this MONTHS ago but i digress !! anyway omg guess what... this is actually inspired by a song... omg i know ive never done that before how unique!!! the song is the dreamer by I the mighty (my fav so good ughhhh)
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You lean against the sink, palms flat against the countertop, your head hovering over the sink bowl, water dripping from your face. You, in a poor and ultimately futile attempt, splashed yourself with water to try and calm your nerves. Tomorrow was your first day at college, but not just any college; no, it was your first day at UA, the ultimate hero college. How could you not be nervous for something like that? You sigh deeply before standing up straight and grabbing a nearby towel to dry your face off; once finished, you begrudgingly shut the bathroom light off and make your way back into your room. You stop at the side of your bed, looking down at your bedside table and the clock on it.
The clock reads one a.m., and you groan; even if you somehow manage to fall asleep right now, you’ll still be completely dead in the morning. You ignore that thought and slip back under your covers, sighing. You lie there for what seems like an eternity with your eyes closed, tossing and turning, trying desperately to fall asleep but to no avail. You quickly return to lying flat on your back before turning your head to the side to check the time. You let out the loudest and most guttural groan in frustration, realizing it’s barely been ten minutes. Once you’ve accepted that you can’t fall asleep and probably aren’t going to for a long while, you decide to just lay there glaring at your ceiling, as if that would help your situation at all. Eventually, your mind starts to wonder toward everything and anything, from your first day of UA tomorrow to your childhood, and you suddenly remember him.
You frown at his remembrance; you haven’t thought about him in ages, nor have you seen him in ages—which makes sense given that the him in question is an imaginary friend from your youth, and typically, most college students don’t have imaginary friends anymore. Now that the first thought of him has occurred, you can’t stop the rest from coming. Recalling how you spent your entire childhood with him. You first met him a few months before you turned five. You had just come to the realization that you weren’t a late bloomer in developing your quirk; no, you simply didn't have one. So it’s safe to say that almost five-year-old-you was absolutely devastated and you cried yourself to sleep that night.
You ended up waking up in a cold sweat, soon realizing that this was not your bed—nor your room, for that matter. There were All-Might posters plastered all over the walls, and even the new sheets that covered you were All-Might themed. After looking around the room in confusion, your attention was drawn to a desk in the far corner of the room and the video playing on the computer that sat atop it. You made your way out of the bed and toward the desk only to find a little boy sitting there, a boy who didn't seem shocked to see you there at all. After a few minutes of talking with him, you learn his name is Izuku, and he’s also quirkless like you, something you were excited about considering how terrible and alienated you felt about it.
The two of you were inseparable after that day, or as inseparable as you and a figment of your imagination could be. Considering that you only ever saw him once you fell asleep, you spent more time sleeping than what would be deemed healthy your whole childhood, constantly sleeping just to spend time with your only (imaginary) friend. You appreciated having him around since he was constantly going through the same things you were at the same time. Like when, you realized you truly were just a late bloomer in middle school, and then that night when you saw Izuku, it turned out he was also a late bloomer. Though it was bittersweet, yes, you appreciated it, but how sad and lonely were you that your brain felt the need to provide you with an imaginary companion for all of your huge life experiences?
Though in high school you stopped seeing him when you slept completely, you were relieved at first to finally feel normal. Relieved to not be the only teenager who still had an imaginary friend, but that relief very quickly faded when you realized how lonely you were without him. Even though he wasn't real, Izuku was your closest and dearest friend, and you missed him so much it hurt. Most days, you'd take sleeping pills in hopes of seeing him again, but to no avail, your childhood best friend seemed to have been completely wiped from your brain. So you accepted it; it took a long time, but you eventually came to terms with the fact that he was just your imaginary friend, and that was all he’d ever be; he wasn't real, and he’d never be, so you stopped thinking of him. Until tonight, when you ended up dozing off while thinking about him. 
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
You groan as you awaken to a faint light shining in your face. Your eyes shoot open when you remember that you didn't leave any lights on or leave your curtains open.
You’re not in your room.
Your heart begins to race.
You are not in your room.
You sit up straight, anxious yet impatient, and are pleasantly surprised to see the familiar walls filled with All-Might posters and the familiar All-Might themed bed sheets, which you can't help but laugh at because if Izuku ages when you do, he'll be a college student with All-Might sheets. Suddenly, your gaze darts all around the room, hoping to spot Izuku, but he's nowhere to be found, and you frown.
“I can make up his room again, but not him?” you mumble angrily to yourself.
You get out of his bed with a sigh and begin looking around his room; everything is mostly the same as you remembered it, but there are some new things. There are new pictures of him and his friends on his walls scattered amid the All-Might posters, as well as clothes thrown haphazardly on his floor and a messier desk. All in all, it appears to be his room, but a more mature version, which you chalk up to your brain just taking after your own room since it seems like your brain likes to do that a lot. You attempt to pick up some things from his desk only to be brutally reminded that anything you touch here simply ripples away before returning to normal, as if you just touched a puddle of water. Except for his bed, you can't physically interact with anything here. You dont hear the door creak open because you're too busy glaring at the stuff on his desk that you can't touch.
“Y/n?” someone calls out breathlessly from behind you. 
You whip around so fast that you momentarily lose your balance, mouth agape, as you stare at the boy in front of you. “Izuku?”
He cracks the largest grin you’ve ever seen from him. He looks exactly how you remember him, yet different all at once. He still has his curly green hair that messily falls in his face despite his best efforts, and his cheeks are still permanently flushed with his constellations of freckles, but this Izuku is bigger. He’s tall and lean, you can see all the muscles that have grown on him, and you think if you ran a finger down his jawline, it would cut you. But it doesn't matter; you can't touch him anyway; he's not real.
“Holy shit! I can't believe it's you!” He exclaims excitedly, and he looks just like he used to when he would tell you about All-Might as a child.
You can't help but giggle at his excitement because you're feeling the exact same way. “When did you start cussing?” you ask, still giggling.
He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah well, I picked it up from a friend of mine…”
“It’s really nice to see you, Izuku," you mumble softly with a grin as you take a step forward toward him.
Izuku’s entire face turns into the perfect hue of pink. “It's really nice to see you too, Y/n,” he mumbles back, “I missed you.”
He’s not real, what are you doing?
“I missed you too,” you say without missing a beat.
Izuku poorly attempts to bite back from smiling even harder than he’s already been this whole time as he walks to his bed. Once he's sat down, he pats the space next to him, and you go wide-eyed. He remembers that you can only interact with his bed?
You sigh and murmur to yourself, “Of course he remembers; he’s pretty much you, Y/n.”
He tilts his head at you. “What’d you say?”
You shake your head quickly and sit down. “Nothing,” you squeak out far too hastily for belief. 
“Where have you been?” He blurts out quietly, and the way his voice wobbles ever so slightly sends a twinge of agony directly to your heart. God, your brain is very good at making him seem like he has actual emotions.
You sigh and fidget with your hands, which are resting in your lap. “High school was rough, but at least it's over now, right?”
He hums in agreement. “It was rough for me too... Do you wanna talk about it?”
You shrug. Oh fuck it, why not? This is essentially your brain giving you free therapy; you might as well indulge yourself. “I’ll talk about it if you talk about it.”
He nods enthusiastically. “Deal.”
You sigh before lying down, and he does the same, turning your heads to look at each other. “I’m gonna be honest, high school was only rough for like a few reasons.”
He frowns. “You say that like you think it means it shouldn’t have been rough... Any reason is reason enough.”
You give him a small smile before continuing, “One of them was just me pushing myself to my limit to try to get into college, another was just not really having any friends, and uh... The last one was because I missed you.”
You don’t miss how his eyes practically flutter at your words. “Would you believe me if I said all of those reasons were also why high school was rough for me?”
You hum. Yes, because he's literally just made up to make you feel less alone. “Zuku, you have pictures of yourself with your friends.”
“I know, I know! but I didn’t really make them until senior year…” He explains sheepishly. “You mentioned college; you’re going, right?”
You nod. “Yep, I’m assuming you are too?” 
“Yeah!” he exclaims. “What college are you going to?”
You exhale heavily in defeat, remembering that you do, in fact, have college to attend when you end up waking up from this. “UA, I actually start tomorrow.”
Izuku sits up excitedly. “No way! I’m going to UA too!”
Of course he is.
You sit up with him. “That’s great, Zuku! I’m so proud of you for getting in. Not like it’s been the only thing you’ve ever talked about since we were little.”
He laughs, and if you were standing up, the sound would’ve made you weak in the knees. “I did talk a lot about that, didn't I? But didn’t you also talk about not wanting to go to UA?”
Even though you know he’s not real, you're flustered by how much he remembers about you. “Yeah, changed my mind.”
“And what made you change your mind?” he asks, coyly. 
“Definitely not you.”
“Rude."
“Okay, maybe it was you,” you admit sheepishly, mostly because you’re embarrassed at how a figment of your imagination could have such an effect on you.
He smiles at you warmly and places his hand mere inches away from yours. Lord knows he’d love to hold your hand, but he also knows that if he even tries, you’ll disappear. “I never forgot about you, Y/n.”
You go wide-eyed at his unexpected confession, and a lump forms in your throat. “I—I never forgot about you either, Izuku,” you practically have to choke out the words past the lump in your throat.
“You know, we practically grew up together,” he reminisces fondly. “And we've still never actually, um, I don’t know, met in person?”
Cause he's not real.
“I know.” 
“You should find me,” he whispers, his voice deep and low, and his eyes never looking away from yours, sends shivers down your spine.
You swallow harshly. “Find you?” 
He nods, his gaze still unwavering. “At UA, we’ll both be there. Find me.” 
You can’t.
“Okay."
He smiles softly, but there’s a hint of melancholy in it, and you realize why when he says, “One of us is probably gonna wake up soon.”
You feel your heart drop; he’s right; you’ve been here far longer than usual; it’s only a matter of time. “Izuku."
“Yes?” 
Oh god, this is so humiliating. What has gotten into you? Why are you seriously about to confess to someone who isn’t even real? “Izuku. I lo-“
He puts his hands out in front of him in a stop pose and immediately interrupts you, “Don’t.”
If possible, your heart drops even more; actually, no, it doesn’t drop; it breaks. This is your brain, your imagination. Why is this not going as planned? How is someone you made up rejecting you?
“Don’t?” you ask quietly for confirmation, like you don’t even really want him to clarify what he meant.
“I know what you’re going to say, and I want to say it too, but I want to say it in person.”
Okay, well, that’s never going to happen.
“Izuku.”
“Please?" he pleads, his expression softening. "Find me and tell me that face to face.”
You.
Can’t.
“Okay.” 
He can’t help but smile. “Okay.” 
You return his smile before sighing. Oh fuck it, this is most likely the last time you’ll ever see him again. “I’m going to do something, but the minute I do, we’ll wake up.”
He looks at you wide-eyed, slightly afraid even. “Do wh-“ 
He doesn't have time to finish his sentence before you’re pulling him into your embrace, or you would be if you could touch things here, so the minute you do "touch" him, both of you are rippling away like reflections in a pond.
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
You jerked awake at the sound of your alarm clock, sitting straight up. Your chest heaves as you take in the fact that you’re back in your room and you just saw your imaginary friend, whom you're evidently not over, which is, within itself, embarrassing that you even caught feelings for someone who's not real in the first place, but you digress. You cringe as you have to practically peel your covers off of you from how much you were sweating. You quickly find yourself back in your bathroom, your head hovering over the sink and water dripping from your face. You, again in another futile attempt to calm yourself down, tried splashing your face, but like last time, it didn’t work. Every time you close your eyes or let your mind wander for even a second, you're met with Izuku telling you to find him. You can’t seem to escape how he was staring at you, like he could see right through you, like he was real and sentient. Like he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. You slap your cheeks softly as if to slap the thought away. 
After a few moments, you take a deep breath and point at yourself in the mirror. “No. Nope. We are not going to be delusional today, Y/n. We have places to be,” you say to yourself, half-heartedly.
And someone to find.
You shake your head at the thought before ignoring it ever happened and getting dressed.
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
By the time you were finished getting ready, it was already a little past eight in the morning, and class starts at nine, which wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that you have to walk. You practically flew out of your house and down toward UA, never stopping for a second, even when you were breathing so heavily that it sounded like you needed medical attention immediately. You start to calm down a bit when you can begin to see UA, but you’re still running, even through the other college students who are calmly heading toward the entrance. But you can’t stop now because, honestly, if you do, your legs would most certainly give out on you and then you really would be late, so it’s either you keep running or you'll tumble to your demise. The closer you get to the entrance, the more people you have to run past and the more crowded it becomes, so it’s no surprise when you run into someone's back just as you're about to enter UA.
“Shit, I’m so sorry!” You exclaim breathlessly as you stumble backward from the impact.
The person stumbles forward momentarily before regaining their footing. They turn around to face you, reassuring: “It’s okay! Don’t wo-“ 
Both of you grow wide-eyed when you’re face to face with each other, and you feel your mouth go dry.
“Izuku?”
“Y/n?”
You don’t say anything; you simply stare at each other in disbelief until recognition flashes in your eyes, then excitement; your whole demeanor shifts as you realize what's happening.
“Izuku!” you exclaim excitedly as you quite literally jump into his arms, causing him to stumble backwards, falling down and taking you with him. You instinctively cover the back of his head with your hands to save it from hitting the pavement. It dawns on both of you simultaneously that you’re touching him. He’s real, you’re real—and you’re touching him, and he’s actually alive. He’s actually a person, a true thing, no longer just a figment of your imagination.
He smiles up at you, who’s straddling him from the fall, your face hovering over his. “You found me.”
You nod fervently. “You’re real,” you remark breathlessly.
Izuku reaches up and cups your cheek with one of his hands. “You’re real.”
You can't say anything or do anything but laugh with glee; he’s real. His curly green hair is real; his constellations of freckles is real; he’s actually real. You push a strand of his hair out of his face and watch how his cheeks flush scarlet.
“You’re staring, Y/n.”
“How can I not?”
You notice his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows harshly and brings up his remaining free hand to cup your other cheek, both hands engulfing your face, and you know there's no way in hell he doesn't feel his palms burning from your face growing hot.
“Can I kiss you?”
You go wide-eyed, your mouth falls slightly open, and you catch his attention flit down to it before returning to your eyes. You nod slowly and lean down hesitantly.
Izuku meets you half way by lifting his head off the ground, and with his mouth just inches from yours, you close your eyes, nervous from the anticipation. You can feel his breath fan against your face as he prepares to kiss you. But when he does, he doesn't kiss your mouth; he more so kisses the corner of your mouth before pulling away slightly to see you staring at him in confusion, though you aren't confused for long when he suddenly and roughly crashes his lips against yours passionately, as if he’s been waiting for this, dreaming of this, and who's to say he hasn't?
You can't help but smile into the kiss, and he does as well. You pull away slightly, both of you trying to catch your breath, but even so, Izuku is looking at you puzzled and disappointed. Before he can ask why you pulled away, you lean back in and cover his whole face in tiny kisses, eliciting little giggles out of Izuku that make you kiss him even more just to hear the warmth of his laugh.
“I love you,” you mumble inbetween pecks on his face.
Izuku pulls away from your kisses, causing you to stop momentarily and pout, before he's leaning back in and kissing you all over your face.
“I love you.”
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©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD
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frvnkcastles · 11 months
Note
hi bestie i have a fic request if you’re taking them :) one where frank and reader have been seriously dating for a while and they’ve both started to think about marriage but haven’t discussed it together. so i’m thinking frank asks out of the blue after being nervous and acting weird for a couple days, he says something like “i ain’t asking yet, but if i asked you to marry me, would you say yes?”
but if you’re not taking requests or if this doesn’t inspire you, please disregard and have a super nice day!! 🥰🌷🌟
NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN ➵ F. CASTLE
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Summary: When your friend’s wedding comes up, Frank is convinced he wants one with you.
Warnings: Mentions of loss, mostly just fluff, feminine nicknames
Word count: 2k
Author’s note: This was actually a half-finished fic I had written a few years ago and this request inspired me to adapt it a little bit and finish it :) I hope you like it <3 I would marry this man in a heartbeat.
Ever since your and Frank’s two friends had announced they were getting married, he had been rewinding back to how it had felt for him. The domesticity, the joy of calling his wife, well, his wife; the relief of having someone by his side through thick and thin. That last part still rang true for him — you were his rock as he was yours, and it was for that reason that he reflected upon his first marriage with fondness and nostalgia, instead of the usual misery and regret. It still hurt, but as he watched you fill out the RSVP card and giddily talk about getting to take part in your dear friend’s wedding… yeah, that softened the blow.
In fact, it made him think of something he had long ago given up on. Revived some old dream he had buried, brought back feelings he hadn’t expected to ever feel again. Because of you. And as he watched you sit on the floor in front of him, rambling on about the kind of dress you’d be wearing, he couldn’t help but suppress a smile — not just at the idea of you in that dress, but the fact that you were all his. Awkward rambles and all.
And my God, was he all yours.
The more he thought about gathering up the courage to ask you to marry him, the more nervous he became. He was usually so unwavering and confident, but it was no news that next to the women he loved, he was just a puppy dog. He was far from scary or menacing — he was just a man in love, hoping the woman of his dreams wanted to spend the rest of her days with him the way he did, too.
Still, he had hoped you wouldn’t notice. But apparently, he wasn’t as good at hiding it as he thought.
You first picked up on something on his mind when he was watching you try on your dress for the wedding. You were rambling about the details on the dress when you realized that even for someone quiet, Frank was being exceptionally silent. You looked at him through the mirror, only to find him smiling at you from across the room, dark eyes focused on you yet his attention not quite there.
”Baby?” you spoke up, ”you okay there?”
Clearing his throat, Frank nodded and wiped the lovestruck smile off of his face. ”Just fine, sweetheart. You look really pretty, y’know that? Could stare at you all day”, he noted, making you blush and forget all about the worry embering in your heart.
He was good at deflecting, making you flustered with genuine but calculated compliments, and changing the subject when you tried to poke. But as endearing as his longing gazes could be, you noticed he got quiet when you showed him pictures of your friend’s wedding ring, and again when you decided to get in the right mood by watching your favorite rom-com.
Finally, when you were listening to the playlist your friend had sent over, and Frank seemed to grow uncomfortable yet again, you decided to be brave and approach the subject head-on.
”Hey, you know you don’t have to come with me, right?” you pointed out, and with his eyebrows drawn together, Frank looked over to you from across the couch where you were both seated.
”You don’t want me to?” he questioned, seeming a little dejected, so you rushed to grab his hand.
”I want you there. But I can tell this might be a little much for you, and it’s no wonder. It’s okay to be sad, my love. Don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” you pleaded, and with an affectionate smile breaking on his face, Frank pulled you in so he could kiss your temple.
”It ain’t that, I promise. Sure, it’s, uh… a reminder, I s’pose. But right now, ’m just feelin’ real lucky to be here with you, aight?” he reassured you, and even though you seemed hesitant to believe him, you nodded.
”I want to be there with you”, Frank added.
And indeed, when the day of the wedding arrived, you were the only thing in his sights. You looked breathtaking in the lilac dress and he made sure you knew — and when you returned the compliment at his suit with a cheeky joke, his heart made a somersault in his chest. You were radiating with joy and love all day long, yet at the same time you had taken on so much responsibility to ensure your friend would have a smooth celebration, and that all the guests would feel at home. You were a natural and it warmed Frank’s heart even when you rejected his help with a kiss and told him to get a drink.
That was what he did, his gaze still stuck on you as you danced with one of your mutual friends’ kids across the venue. A soft smile tugged on his lips as he watched you shed the jacket he had given you so you could move easier, your laugh easy to pick out even through the music and chatter. You were his whole focus, always.
Chuckling, Frank then finished his beer before striding across the floor and over to you. He’d have to wait until later to make his plan come true, but until then, he was desperate to hold you close to him.
”Mind if I cut in, buddy?” Frank rasped at the little boy you had been twirling around, and although he seemed reluctant, above all he was intimidated by the burly man by your side suddenly. Quick as that, the kids vanished from around you and you couldn’t help but giggle while turning to Frank who instinctively slid his hands across your hips to reel you into his chest.
”It’s mean to scare kids”, you pointed out teasingly, well-aware that children adored him — he was a dad through and through, but there was no doubt that for the sake of stealing you all to himself, he had put a little extra meanness into his stare.
”What can I say, sweetheart”, he whispered into your ear, his smile touching your cheek as he leaned into you, ”I get jealous easily.”
You laughed at that, and it only widened Frank’s grin as he dropped his forehead to yours and swayed side to side with you. You were shorter but you were managing to hold onto his neck, nearly on your tiptoes as he took the lead and moved you across the floor in gentle, tender movements. His firm chest felt like a safe place and his arms around you put a smile on your face — almost as big as the love in your eyes as you shyly beamed up at him.
You couldn’t help but notice him glancing around while you kept dancing, his hands just the slightest bit shaky instead of their steady selves, and a frown deepened your forehead. ”Are you okay, baby? You seem… nervous, again”, you pointed out, and quickly looking back at you, he nodded.
”I’m okay, sweetheart”, he insisted before leaning foreard to kiss your forehead. ”Hey, I love you. With my whole damn heart, you know that? Ain’t no one I’d rather be dancin’ with right now”, he went on, and feeling you tense up in his arms, he emphasized his own words, ”no one.���
You nearly shed a tear at that, and even though they didn’t hold as much meaning coming from you, you returned the sentiment. ”Me either”, you hummed into his chest, ”I love you so much, Frank.”
More than one song passed with him just holding you, thinking of how lucky he was, the occasional careful kiss pressed into your hair while you clung onto him. It was warm and safe and you wouldn’t have changed a thing for the world.
Only when the midnight hours were rolling in, the crowd was beginning to dismantle and the happily new-weds were officially sent off to their honeymoon. As you watched their car drive away with all their loved ones waving them off, you couldn’t help but tear up — in response, Frank took your hand and held it as tight as you needed.
Not much later, people were turning to you to thank for a job well done before leaving in their own rides. Frank could have sworn you were an angel, smiling at each and every one of them and wishing them a safe journey home. Eventually, there was no one left but you and him and the clean-up crew, and just as you faced Frank to tell him your feet were killing you, he interjected by simply standing there.
He was holding a big bouquet of different colored roses in his hands, looking absolutely gorgeous with his dark eyes and white shirt and shy smile as he eyed you up and down. It wasn’t until he was handing over the flowers that you realized it wasn’t a dream, and upon recognizing the bouquet, you gasped.
”Oh no, did she forget—”, you started, wondering if the bride would have loved to have her flowers with her, but cutting you off, Frank shook his head while urging you to take them.
”Nah. It’s for you, sweetheart”, he stated simply, and when you gave him a curious smile, he chuckled. ”She, uh, she let me have it. She was gonna do the whole throwin’ thing, y’know?” he went on, and again, you gasped.
”Oh, I knew we forgot something!” you huffed, and chuckling, Frank scratched the back of his neck.
”No, no, uh… I asked her if I could have it. See, uh, she’d throw the bouquet to see who gets married next, yeah?” he tried explaining, and when you nodded, he broke into a flustered smile. ”Guess I just didn’t wanna take the chance you’d miss”, he finished, and at that, your smile dropped and you glanced between the bridal bouquet and him with disbelief.
”I ain’t askin’ yet… but if I did, would ya say yes?” he continued, fiddling with his hands nervously while waiting to see any reaction on your face. For a second, he wondered if it had been a terrible idea, but then your eyes started welling up and your hand flew to your mouth as you fidgeted and looked at the flowers and then back at Frank whose eyes lit up with excitement and relief.
”You’d really… you’d have me?” you whispered, your voice fragile as you reveled in the fantasy of standing like this with him some day — face to face, you in a dress, him in a suit with flowers in your hands and the moonlight above you.
”Hell yeah, sweetheart. If you’d have me. ’Cause I fuckin’ adore you. More than words can say, but you, uh, you… you make me feel alive. And happy to be alive. I can’t imagine a single day without you”, he sighed, and with a vigorous nod, you leaped forward to wrap your arms around him.
”Yes”, you cried out before pulling back just to kiss him, ”yes now and every day after this one. Whenever you want to do it… my answer will be the same.”
Grinning, Frank hugged you tight and closed his eyes while squeezing you. The two of you rocked back and forth in one another’s arms, silent apart from your sniffles, until you spoke up. ”This explains why you’ve been acting so weird lately. You’d really think the big bad Punisher would be better at staying calm under pressure”, you joked, earning a snort from Frank.
”Hey, this was really fuckin’ important. I wasn’t sure, y’know?” he shrugged while letting go of you enough to cradle your hands in his own and look into your eyes.
”Awww, Frankie”, you smiled up at him, ”you had no reason to be nervous. I’m completely and entirely in love with you.” With love twinkling in his eyes, he leaned into seal the distance between your lips, kissing you deeply. He stole your breath away, as he always did.
”Thank you for always bein’ patient with me. I know it ain’t always easy to be with me… but I hope it’s worth it. I’mma make it my mission to make sure of that”, he swore while resting his forehead against yours, and with another smile, you nodded.
”You’re always worth it, Frank.”
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Text
In the Woods
(Eddie Munson x Reader) (18+)
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Summary: this was supposed to be from a longer fic that’s been brewing in the pot for a long while, but I got that worm in my brain that doesn’t let me finish things, and I haven’t posted in forever so you guys can have the porn scenes. if I ever finish it u can have the full fic as a treat <3
Word Count: 3.4k
Content: swearing, sexual content, protected sex, p in v sex, outdoors sex, slight edging
A/N: (this takes place at skull rock, also there are some things that reference the plot of the fic or moments within the full fic, ignore those <3)
Minors DNI please !!!
*~*~*
“So, did you do anything with your art, back in the city?” he asked, pondering if she was planning to be some snooty big-shot in an art gallery, or if she was aiming to be the next Van Gogh or Monet. He couldn’t help but picture the scene of her, scantily clad in nothing but an oversized button-up shirt, paint all over her but so focused on her work that she didn’t even care, the sun beaming through her studio space. God, she was so hot.
“Yeah, actually, I was training as a tattoo apprentice after school back in the city before I needed my, uh... little break,” she answered, flipping open her sketchbook to the first empty page she could find. She grabbed one of her sharpened number two pencils and placed the tip of it to the paper, beginning a doodle unrelated to their plans of DnD-related art.
“A tattoo artist, huh? I’ve actually got some tatties of my own,” he said, hoping that she’d ask to see them.
She waited a moment, the silence stilling the air between them. After a pause so long that he feared he had dismantled their conversational flow, she finally looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Well, are you gonna show me them?”
“Oh, r-right,” he stammered, immediately pulling himself from his spot against the boulder and shedding his layers of his denim vest and leather jacket, revealing tatted forearms. He stepped away from the boulder, closer to her, and held his arms out for her to see his sweet ol’ tatties.
She took one of his forearms in her hands, one hand holding his wrist and one hand propping his arm underneath, and he hoped that she didn’t notice the immediate goosebumps that raised on his skin. She did notice, but chose to say nothing, basking in the idea that she could set off his nerves like that. She slowly rotated his arm, studying the bats decorating his pale skin. “That’s so sick,” she said, looking all the way up at him from the forest floor.
In this moment, he realized she was face-level to his crotch, and sitting in front of it too. He tried not to picture her with her mouth on him, so that he wouldn’t pop a boner right in front of her face. Flustered and breathless, he airily chuckled, stepping back and saying, “Y-yeah, I really like that one.”
She gave him a look that asked, You okay? before asking aloud, “You got any others that you’re hiding from me?”
Remembering the one on his chest, he pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing a hint of the one that rested below the right side of his collarbone. “This one, too.”
“I can’t see it from over there, dummy,” she giggled, climbing to her feet with a small grunt.
She approached him, eyes fixated on the hint of a tattoo. Taking the reins, she pulled his collar down further, brushing her fingers against his. His breath hitched as he felt her fingers against his hot skin, feeling like his heart was audibly pounding out of his chest. She seemed so calm and collected, using her other finger to softly trace over the inked skin on his chest, the contact making him suck in a breath through his teeth.
The tension in the air was thick like a fog, and she felt like every cell in her body was being drawn to him in a magnetic pull. She felt her own breathing speed up in their proximity, and she looked away from his chest tattoo and into his eyes to find he had been staring hard at her with blown pupils and flushed cheeks. She released the collar of his shirt, not moving her hand from its spot on his chest, not saying a word or breaking eye contact. The air around them felt electric, like lightning was about to strike them both down right here, right now.
She parted her lips to say something, anything, but no words came to mind. All she could focus on was the buzzing in her core and the heat in her face. He glanced down at her parted lips, letting his imagination roam wildly with fantasies of those lips on his, those lips all over him, and his lips all over her. She noticed this, subtly gripping his shirt in her hand. Deciding that she couldn’t take any more of this tension that choked her like a warm hand wrapped around her throat, she yanked, aggressively pulling him into her and smashed her mouth against his.
His hands flew to her face instantly, cupping her cheeks strongly as she sucked on his bottom lip, running her tongue across it gently as an inquiry. He invited her in, and they did the dance of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. She reveled in his taste and smell, the cigarettes and the hint of weed from a while ago, and the sound of his labored breathing from his nose against her face. She even liked the way his large nose pushed into her cheek, and she let her arms wrap around his neck in a tight embrace.
He stroked her cheek with his thumb before dropping his hands to her waist, pushing softly and leading her backwards until she felt herself bump up against a large surface, making her gasp against his lips. She let him pin her to the boulder, pulling him in closer and pressing her chest into his. When his abdomen pressed into hers, she could feel him already hard, making her whimper softly into his mouth. He took it as an opportunity to go farther, nestling his thigh in between her legs and resting his knee against the boulder, feeling the absolute heat radiating from her.
Her fingers dug into his hair, accidentally scratching at his scalp and eliciting a groan from him, which ignited her core like a fire. Without realizing it, she had let herself drop onto his thigh, pressing the seam of her jeans up against her clothed heat and rubbing against her covered clit. He felt her slight grind against his leg, letting himself grind his own arousal against her. He lowered one of his hands from her waist to her inner thigh, stroking it with his thumb and eliciting a full-on moan out of her with how close he was to touching her where she needed him most.
Upon hearing herself moan like that, she pulled back, panting. “Wait,” she breathed out, “we’re just friends… we shouldn’t—”
“This is what friends do, right? They help each other out?” he asked lowly, dipping his head to skim his lips against her neck in a ghost of a kiss in an attempt to tease her into wanting more. And, boy, did it work. He could see the goosebumps appearing all over her body.
She shivered before she responded with a meek, “Y-yeah, friends can do this...” He noticed the way her thighs clenched together against his thigh, and stroked her thigh again, even closer to her core that was now damp and getting damper by the second, making her suck in a quick breath through her teeth.
“Just friends,” he agreed, finally placing his lips against her skin and nipping at her neck. She was like putty in his big, warm hands, leaning into his touch and digging her fingers further into his hair, which made him smile against her skin. She could feel the outline of his lips moving against the warmth of her neck as he murmured, “Ugh, I’ve been wanting to touch you like this so bad, ever since I fucking laid eyes on you in the school parking lot.”
“M-me too,” she stammered, pulling him impossibly closer to where he just had to nestle entirely between her thighs. His hands climbed further down, sweeping underneath the curve of her ass to lift her, and she willingly obliged, letting herself be lifted and pressed against the boulder with her legs wrapped around his waist tightly. “I even asked Dustin who the hottie in the jacket was,” she whispered in admittance, and he bit down hard on her neck, eliciting a shocked whimper out of her.
“God, you’re so fucking cute,” he groaned before deftly licking the purple skin where he had bit down on, making her release short, panting breaths and grip his hair harder. “And so fucking pretty.”
He pressed his hard, denim-clad crotch into her, the pressure against her driving her insane. He gently ground into her, one hand holding her up by the ass and the other hand dipping underneath her shirt to feel her hot skin. She mewled like a kitten, needing more friction, not even caring about the rough surface against her back. He broke from the kiss to look at her in her desperate state, seeing her pleading eyes and tousled hair. He smirked, leaning down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he whispered, “You want it, baby?”
“Please,” she whimpered, and he chuckled darkly.
“Already begging for it? Aw, how could I deny such a pretty girl what she wants,” he teased, pulling back and letting her down. She wobbled on weak legs, and he softly pushed her back to lean against the boulder so that he could undo her pants, kneeling down to slip off her shoes and slide her pants off, revealing her legs to the chilly open air, already acquiring goosebumps. Her breath hitched at his own desperation, although a more dominant and demanding desperation.
He gazed down at her underwear with absolute adoration in his eyes. “Jesus, even your panties are so fuckin’ pretty,” he whispered to himself, still kneeling before her. She couldn’t deny the wetness that had pooled in her underwear, feeling her excited walls clench around nothing. This was really happening.
He placed his large, hot hands on her upper thighs, his cool rings contrasting the heat of his hands. He gently spread her thighs, sweeping a hand underneath one to lift it over his shoulder, his eyes locked on the sopping wet patch in the crotch of her panties.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” was all he could say, swiping over he drenched, clothed slit with his thumb to gently rub her sensitive nub over the fabric. Her breathing quickened, and she almost dropped her body weight on him, making him tense up his strong arms to stay put in their position. He looked up at her, her pupils blown and her face red, before asking quietly, “May I?”
“Y-yes,” she breathed out, and that was all it took for him to pull the crotch of her panties to the side and slide two thick fingers through her slick folds.
“Jesus, you’re so wet,” he whispered, pulling his hand back to watch in awe as the slick covering his fingers stringed as he separated his fingers. She whined pitifully, hoping it would bring his touch back to her.
Instead, he stood up, leaving her legs trembling and her half-exposed heat dripping down her thigh. When she saw him begin to undo his own jeans, her eyes were glued to his bulge, the zipper coming down to reveal a large tent in his plaid boxers. Before she let herself get carried away, she pulled herself back to reality for long enough to ask, “You got a rubber?”
“Oh! Yes, I do,” he chirped, leaving his clothed erection hanging out of his black jeans while he reached in his back pocket to pull out his wallet, an old leathery thing, and pulled out a silver packet. “Bingo,” he said, holding it up.
“Did you plan this?” she asked, wondering why he had brought along a condom in the first place.
“Not this specifically,” he admitted with a smirk, “but I did put this in my wallet right after we met.”
“You cheeseball,” she teased, taking the condom wrapper out of his hands. “Can I put it on you?” she asked, gazing into his eyes to find a glimmer of adoration in his.
“Y-yeah,” he breathed, looking down and pulling himself out of his boxers.
She couldn’t help but ogle at it; it was long but also quite girthy. She would have called it impressive if she didn’t want to give him any more of an ego that he already had. She settled for mouthing the word, Wow.
Not wanting to waste anymore time, she ripped the edge of the wrapper off with her teeth, ignoring the smidge of package lubricant that touched her tongue. He stepped up close to her again, his length brushing against the belly of her shirt. Taking the rolled up rubber, she touched it to his tip, that already had a small bead of pre-cum leaking. He hissed at the contact as she rolled the condom down his length, gripping it and shimmying the latex down as far as it would go, her band brushing against the mound of dark brown hair at his base, which tickled her hand.
He watched her do this, his stare morphing from awestruck to almost predatory as he thought about all of the things he could do to her, anything to get her to make those beautiful noises for him again. As soon as the condom was on, he swooped her up once more, lifting her to pin her between the boulder and himself with the only barrier between them being the thin, soaked fabric of her underwear.
She wanted to kiss him again so bad, but she just couldn’t look away from his intense eye contact. She wrapped her arms lazily around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair strands at the nape of his neck. His eyes bored into her soul as he reached down in between them, pulling her underwear to the side, and sliding himself up and down her wet slit, gathering her slick and bumping the sensitive nub that made her gasp and wrap her legs around him tighter. She tried to look down in between them, so that she could watch him, but his other hand grabbed her jaw, holding her face so that she had no choice to but to hold his stare.
His member prodded her dripping hole, and he leaned in to finally kiss her again, pressing into her and pushing himself in at the same time. The sensation of him ever so slowly stretching her out made her moan into his mouth, and she pulled him harder into the kiss, her hands buried at their rightful place in his hair.
Once he was buried to the hilt, she adjusted to his size, feeling herself relax around his member, and she broke their kiss to bury her face in his neck, his hair sticking to her face. She felt her walls clench down on him from his lack of movement and her need for just that. He leaned his head against hers, nuzzling her for a moment before whispering in her ear, “You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered out, feeling her own hips stutter against his body at the thought of him pounding into her.
“Yes, what, baby?” Chills ran down her spine. She never pictured herself enjoying being dominated, but with Eddie, she wanted nothing more for him to do whatever he wanted with her.
“Please!” she squeaked out, whimpering against his neck.
And that was all it took for him to give her exactly what she wanted, what she craved so desperately. He thrusted into her, against the huge rock, at a leisurely pace, and the drag of his thick length continuously stretching her from the inside had her already quaking. She was a mess, whimpering and whining into the crook of his neck, feeling the pleasurable burn of her tightness being filled out so completely. “Eddie, that feels so good,” she whined.
When he began to pound harder, he pulled her head away from his neck and cradled the back of her head to keep it from banging against the solid rock behind her. He wanted to watch the pleasure in her face. He listened to her whines turn into moans, he watched her jaw go lax and her brows knit together.
“Fuck, baby, you look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he groaned in between his own grunts, one hand behind her head and one digging into the side of her hip so hard that he was almost worried he’d leave a bruise.
He slid his hand down from her hip, down in between their bodies, down past her pretty panties, and landed on her sweet, throbbing cunt that was taking him in so well. She whined at the contact, thrusting her hips out for him, and he absolutely ate it up, using two fingers to rub soft, slow circles around her aching clit.
At this, her legs were tensing up, squeezing around his waist hard. To him, she sounded like an angel, moaning and whimpering so beautifully just for him. He let himself speed up his pace, slamming into her ferociously while keeping his fingers slow and steady.
Her whole body was shaking as she felt that string inside of her wind tightly, begging to snap, and Eddie knew. He could feel her tightening up around his cock, and he wanted to give her something she’d never forget.
He slowed down his thrusts into an agonizing pace, slowly sliding in and out with ease, his fingers taking their time on her overstimulated bundle of nerves, prolonging the build-up to her orgasm. She was downright trembling against him, and her eyes fluttered open to look at him, her eyes welling with hot tears of pleasure. She needed more, needed him faster and harder. All she could do was beg pitifully, whimpering strings of “please, please, please,” with her moans.
“Please?” he groaned, taking in the sight of her writhing before him. “Oh, baby… you don’t need to ask, you’re almost there,” he teased, adding his thumb to swipe up and down her drenched slit while he kept his fingers on her clit.
She let her hips chase the feeling, rutting up against him as the overstimulation from his the slow push and pull of his cock, the attention to her slit, and the touches around her clit gathered up inside of her, tightening up in her core until she felt like she was about to burst. She squeezed her eyes, her chin wobbling as she began to feel that white hot pleasure sear through her.
Just as she felt herself slowly begin to let go, he felt the first tight clench and smirked. He suddenly began pounding harder once more, feeling her walls flutter around him so tightly he thought it would project him out of her. Her moans were more like quick, high-pitched squeals as that string inside of her finally snapped and she came harder than she ever had in her life around Eddie’s cock.
He rode her through her orgasm, continuing her pleasure as he chased his own, listening to her incoherent babbling as she let her lips loose on his neck, mindlessly licking and sucking at it as she held him so tightly that her nails dug into the back of his neck. His grunts became his own soft moans as his hips stuttered into hers, and he came with a soft, “Oh, fuck, baby,” cooed in her ear, spilling himself into the condom but wishing he could just paint her insides with his seed. He dropped his head against hers and they stayed there like that for a good, long moment, basking in post-coital bliss.
Both panting and sweaty messes, he pulled back and she looked at him, a wide smile blossoming on her face. They both couldn’t help it, and they laughed hard at the irreversible choice they just made. She winced as he pulled out, and in consolation, he kissed her sweaty forehead.
He slid the condom off, tying the end of it into a knot like the world’s wimpiest water balloon, while she put her put her pants back on, swiping off the dirt it had gathered from sitting on the forest floor, and slipped her shoes back on.
She watched as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his jeans, filled condom still in hand. He took a second to look at it wonderingly, before suddenly turning to throw it as hard as he could up towards the huge boulder above them that was shaped like a skull. They both watched as it disappeared above the head of the boulder, not hearing it land on the other side, leaving them both to assume he had managed to throw it on top of the boulder, to sit there until somebody was bold enough to climb it and discover a nasty, used condom.
He released a content sigh, stretching his back backwards before joking, “So, ‘hottie with the jacket’, huh?”
“Shut up,” she retorted, slinking back down with shaky legs to sit on the ground. “So, you wanna talk art?”
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mixtape-racha · 7 months
Text
it's a scream, baby! bonus chapter #1
chapter: the date is set - hyunjin and felix centric
words: 895 // warnings: cursing, derogatory language, discussions of violence, mentioned reader (not present)
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“so, lix,” hyunjin mused, breaking the silence in the flat. the movie they had been watching finished nearly half an hour ago, and they had sat quietly on their phones since - not wanting to move. “you like (y/n), huh?”
felix chuckled lightly, a contrast to the deep blush rising on his face.
“is it that obvious? i know you guys have that weird situationship thing going on, but i just can’t help it.” he replied, refusing to look up from his phone and meet his friend’s stare. the tall boy could be very intimidating, felix had to admit. especially when it came to (y/n).
“i can’t say i blame you.” hyunjin chuckled, moving swiftly across the room to tuck himself onto the same sofa that felix was residing on. “tell me, how much do you like her?”
felix was confused, and also slightly aroused in the same breath. hyunjin’s demeanor had completely shifted, and he was looking at felix like he was something to eat. was this a trick question? was he going to tell (y/n) what felix said so they could laugh at him together?
“i don't know, jin…” felix shifted, laughing awkwardly. god, maybe he was a freak.
but hyunjin just simply smiled, in a cocky yet kind of reassuring way. “i’m serious. tell me all about it, i’m curious.”
“well, i just,” felix took a deep breath before continuing. “she’s perfect. she’s so kind, and never lets anybody feel left out. she’s always there if you need someone to talk to, and she’s try her damned hardest to help you fix a problem. her smile lights up every room she walks in, and you just can’t help being drawn to her. she’s just…. she’s perfect, hyunjin. i don’t think i’ve ever wanted anybody this bad. i’d do anything for her…. i’d do anything to her.”
felix was rambling at this point, not fully in awareness of the words tumbling from his lips.
“she’s the one girl i think about, day or night. i think about her when i see a cute plushie in a store. i think about her when its a rainy day and i get an urge to build a pillow fort. i think about her, most of all, in the middle of the night. god, i’m so disgusting. she’d hate me if she knew that i jerked off to her every night, that she’s the only fantasy that can make me cum. if she knew the reason i haven’t fucked anyone yet is because i want her to be my first… she’d hate me”
“actually,” hyunjin smirked, tongue in cheek as felix finally looked at him. “i think she’d be rather flattered. she thinks about you too, you know? she’s always had a soft spot for you.”
felix opened his mouth to reply, shock and embarrassment drowning his features, but hyunjin raised a hand to stop him.
“you said you’d do anything for her, right?”
felix nodded, his soft hair bouncing with the action. he truly would, anything she wanted.
“like what?”
“anything she wanted. anything she needed. god, i’d die for her. i’d live for her. fuck, i’d even kill for her.”
hyunjin’s eyes lit up at felix’s last sentence, in a way that had the younger boy’s stomach churning.
“would you know? do you mean it, lix?”
though he was slightly fearful of what hyunjin’s words implied, he nodded. whatever hyunjin had in store was sure to benefit (y/n) in some way - everything he did was for their shared friend - and felix would rightly go to the ends of the earth for her.
“then i have a proposition for you. don’t agree lightly - take this seriously, because the second you commit, you can’t back out.”
felix didn’t even realize he was leaning forward where he sat, almost hypnotized by hyunjin as he waited for his friend to continue.
“have you not noticed how much the others boys are all over our girl? how they act like the own her? and the way people talk about her on campus for being friends with us? it’s not on, lixie, and i think we need to do something about it.”
his words had felix gripping onto his seat, ready to follow anything he had to say. no one could treat their girls like that, she was theirs. no one else's. and anyone who had something bad to say about they deserved what they got, he reasoned.
“what d’you say we show this town not to mess with her, hm? i know you’re not opposed to a bit of violence… come on lixie, say yes. for (y/n). let's eradicate them for her.”
felix’s heart was hammering in his chest. hyunjin’s word were true - he was known for getting in fights during their first year of college. some so serious he opponent ended up in the emergency room. anything to let off a bit of steam, is how he excused it at the time. was he still that person? would he really go and kill in cold blood? but for (y/n).... nothing could stop him.
he locked eyes with hyunjin, the taller male smiling menacingly when he recognized the look in felix’s eyes, and waited for him to respond.
“why don’t we start with that bitch heejin? i never liked whores who ran their mouths, anyway.”
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taglist: @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @queen-klarissa @queenfelix @taeriffic @mits-vi @myeg1993 @demetrisscarf @chanssmiles @5kayzee @skz-streamer @iweirdthingsblog @sinforsuccubus @bunniie0325 @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @moondustmemories @4evrglow @marrivmel @littlepotatooooo @carpioassists @comet-falls
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canon-can-fight-me · 3 months
Text
Familiar Faces
Pairing: Kai3po
Word Count: 916 Words
Summary: C-3PO has a chat with a stranger. All aboard the angst train!
Warnings: Spoilers for St.ar Wa.rs Episode IX (Ri.se of Skyw.alker), mentions of loss.
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“Excuse me…”
Blue eyes glance up meet his photoreceptors, and with her attention now on him, the droid continues.
“I don’t believe we’ve met quite yet.” He extends a hand to the woman, seated on a bench, sketchpad in hand.
“I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations.”
The woman stares at him for a moment, expression unreadable, before she holds out a hand, using the other to steady the sketchbook now resting in her lap.
“…Kaiyo.”
The name seems familiar, though he’s not sure why. Perhaps it was just one of the many names of the resistance members his new friend R2-D2 had told him about.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kaiyo,” he says, hand still in hers. He stiffens as he notices the ring on her finger before her other hand returns to rest in her lap. He debates asking about who holds the other ring, but quickly decides against it. Instead, he gestures to the sketchpad.
“May I ask what it is you’re working on? Are you an artist?”
Her lips quirk up in a smile that fails to reach her eyes.
“You could say that…”
She hesitates a moment before motioning for the droid to sit down, shifting her body to give him a better view of her sketchpad.
“Ah, is that…a starspeeder?”
“Mhm,” she affirms, turning the page to reveal more mock up sketches. “Ever since the fall of the First Order, I’ve had some more time on my hands.”
“This is quite an exquisite design, I must say,” Threepio compliments, “I am by no means an expert on starspeeders, but this one looks unlike any I’ve ever seen.”
He notices the human flush, what he has come to understand as a response to deep embarrassment…or flattery.
“Thank you. Well, you’re right, it doesn’t exist…yet. I’m working with a friend of mine who’s more adept at this kinda thing. They’re going to handle most of the actual inner workings. But…” she sighs, smiling, “I love creating new designs.”
The woman continues to eagerly show him more sketches, some of starspeeders like the first one, and others random drawings of wildlife, plants, and creatures. She seemed closed off at first, but she prattles on with an infectious enthusiasm that the droid can’t help but be drawn to. He feels as though he’s known her for longer than five minutes, combined with distant glimpses of her around the base. However, he was only activated a few weeks ago; such a thing, though strange, simply isn’t possible.
Kaiyo has flipped to another page, though she abruptly stops her excited rambles, eyes suddenly hardened at the sight of what’s on the next page. He looks down to see what the fuss is about and��oh.
“Is that…a self portrait?”
He is mainly able to tell because of the ponytail, though the anguished looking woman on page has a striking resemblance to the one sitting next to him, stiff as a board. Her eyes dart from the page to him, hand poised above the page like she wants to rip it off, crumple it up, or burn it. Maybe all of those things. Instead, she sighs.
“I didn’t mean to show you that. I…drew it as a form of self expression.”
He’s almost afraid to ask. After all, prying into one’s personal affairs is improper. However, he doesn’t need to pry when the words come pouring out of her like a leaky faucet.
“I drew it shortly after the battle on Exegol. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of us were happy to finally see the actual end of Palpatine, but…” she traces the portrait’s face almost as if she’s trying to comfort the sketched version of her.
“No war is won without costs. And he was a hefty one.”
“He?”
Her eyes widen, shaking her head as she realizes her slip up.
“Um…no one, I shouldn’t have said that…uh—“
“It’s perfectly alright if you don’t want to talk about it, Miss Kaiyo.”
“I haven’t for a while—or at least, it seems like it, but…” she fiddles with her ring, pointedly avoiding his attentive gaze.
“My husband…made a sacrifice. It saved the galaxy, and it was by no means the wrong choice. I’m…glad he did it.”
The shininess of her cheeks say otherwise.
“I’m sure that was difficult to learn of…but I’m sure it was a choice he made not just because of the galaxy, but because you’re a part of it, too.” He pauses. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”
She says nothing in return, even when he instinctively reaches up to swipe away a tear. His hand is metal, so it doesn’t help much, but it’s the gesture that counts, or so he thinks. Kaiyo seems to agree, reaching up to grasp his hand, still holding her cheek. She seems to lean into his touch, and it feels familiar, it feels natural, it feels—
“Threepio!”
Kaiyo yanks herself away at the sound of footsteps, quickly rubbing her eyes with her sleeve. The young recruit bows in apology for interrupting, explaining that the droid’s presence was requested by General Organa herself. The droid follows, bidding her goodbye, and Kaiyo watches. Her eyes flit down to the sketchpad, and in a fit of frustration she shuts it, tossing it next to her on the bench.
Dammit, Kaiyo. You’re supposed to be moving on from this. But how can you move on from someone who is only partially gone? The same person, just without everything that made him yours?
Note: I made this with the thought of “what if Threepio didn’t get his memory restored?” Because I think about that a lot and I enjoy the angst.
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luna-redamancy · 2 years
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Hello (*゚▽゚)ノ here to request some thorin x reader where the reader is a dragon trainer ? She lived with dragons since young and Smaug was actually her familiar/partner before, now she is trying to help the Dwarves get their home
Hello!! This is such a cool idea and it makes me want to watch How to Train Your Dragon...
Edit: I just now realized this was supposed to be a Thorin x reader... And I wrote just a Company x reader.. I’m so sorry!
Anywho, I hope you enjoy it!
“So you work with…Dragons,” Balin was carefully wording his sentences, in hopes of not offending you, nor his kin that he knew were listening very closely as he sat across from you. The fire crackled in the background and it reminded you of teaching the young drakes to control their fire in terms of intensity and range.
You had yet to sign the contract, wanting to read every bit of it thoroughly. As you told Gandalf, if there were any bits of information regarding killing or hurting Smaug, you would not sign it and you wouldn’t join in on their mission. 
Looking up from the parchment, you gave him a smile. “I do,” You encouraged, putting a finger where you were last reading so you could continue in a moment. 
“Do you know of Dragon Trainers, Sir Balin?” You inquired, tilting your head. 
“I’m afraid I do not,” Balin chuckled nervously to which you nodded in understanding. 
“I know Smaug had hurt you all severely, and for that, I am forever sorry,” You began, “But please know, that not all dragons are like him. He lost his way,” You sighed, looking back down at the paper. 
“How do you know he lost his way?” 
“I once worked with him, when he was younger.” You realized you now had an audience. The entire Company now hovering in the doorway, trying to not look so suspicious. 
“His former trainer died from old age, and he was heartbroken, he barely got up to hunt or make a small hoard, so they gave him to me to work with,” You began to tell his story, remembering play fighting with the small drake, taking him to get treats whenever he did exceptionally well during training. 
He transformed in front of your eyes. No longer was he the depressed dragon that he came to you as, he was kind and playful, courteous and passionate. Not this greedy, murderous, vicious beast that the world saw him as.
“And what happened?” Balin seemed very interested, wanting to know how he went from being in something akin to a dragon’s camp to rampaging his home. 
“We aren’t entirely sure,” You shook your head, “But the elder trainers think that it had to do with the unearthing of the Dragon Stone, or what most called it, the Arkenstone.” 
It felt like the world was put on pause as Balin stared at you in horror. 
“It’s a magnificent jewel, yes,” You nodded, “Beautiful and vibrant, glowing on its own. But it also has magic within it,” You explained. Pausing to put the quill where your finger was so you could grab your book out of your bag. 
“See here,” You flipped the pages rapidly to get to where you had put a placeholder before. The Arkenstone was drawn in the center, glowing bright, with dragons lined up behind it. 
“For some reason, the magic within it causes unfathomable greed in mankind, but for dragons, it sparks undeniable rage that is only calmed whenever the dragons are near it. Like some sort of drug,” You explained, “We haven’t ever been able to have a dragon near one without it causing them to go feral.”
“So you think when the Arkenstone was found and put in King Thror’s throne-”
“It was a beacon to dragons to come take it,” You finished Kili’s sentence as he approached the two of you.
“I don’t know if that’s the exact reason he did what he did, and nothing can excuse the hell he rained down on you all,” You looked over to them. 
“What Smaug did was terrible, and I understand that you want his head on a pedestal,” You focused on Thorin, eyes pleading. 
“Just let me help get you your homeland back. I can get him out safely and take him so he can go back to the far north so our elders can work with him.” 
“How do you know he’ll go with you?” Ori piped in, looking concerned. 
“I am a dragon trainer, and since he has left and done this, well, we’ve trained in how to deal with dragons that are falling to Dragon Stone magic.” 
“Bilbo can help me get the stone away from Smaug,” You looked at the newly contracted burglar with a grin, “And once it’s out of sight and covered, the magic effects should wear off and he should come to his senses.” 
Thorin sighed deeply through his nose before approaching. 
“We will trust what you can do, Lady Dragon Trainer.” 
“Thorin-” Dwalin opened his mouth to argue but Thorin shook his head. 
“Gandalf believes in what she can do, and if this can end with little bloodshed…” Thorin paused, recalling all of his kin screaming as dragon-fire exploded through the kingdom walls. Thousands of their military were wiped out within seconds. 
“Then I will gratefully take the opportunity.” 
“You won’t regret it, Thorin,” You bowed your head in thanks before resuming reading the contract, nerves twisting in your stomach. You had a long journey ahead of you. 
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