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st4rgzer · 2 days

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now playing…FORTNIGHT (spencer reid)

-“ˈfɔːtnaɪt: a period of two weeks”-

summary: in which your unlawful affair with fbi agent spencer reid must come to an end

genre: angst, flashback of fluff

cw!: allusions to cheating, kissing, inappropriate innuendos

a/n: this is acc so long but i promise its worth the read, first of many to come!

you watched as spencer methodically fiddled with his tie, a sign that no matter how loose he’d get it to be, it felt like he was choking. you grinned reminiscent, this had brought back to your mind the memory of your first date with him. except he had shorter, neater hair and a less bitter smile.

“how’s your wife” you said, pettiness laced in your words. your arms crossed over your chest, putting up invisible walls, distancing yourself mentally from him. pretending you weren’t thinking about how pretty he’d look under you.

“she’s…well.” he had given you a short, wary response. his eyes studied your face, landing on your lips, he licks his. most likely, he was trying to memorize everything, as if you were a fleeting moment. but you were. you were uncertain about his intents when his eyes wandered for a few seconds.

“how’s dan?” the word ‘dan’ came out with a petulant smile, and sour tone. flourishing the little likeness he had toward him.

the conversation bored you out of your mind. he was holding back. he could’ve said about a million things by now but he chose to keep silent, neglecting your tortured heart even more.

“i think he’s cheating on me, though im still not sure. but i have strong points on the subject, good reasoning” you say dismissively, looking down at your nails. the issue didn’t seem to faze you. after all, some could say you had committed certain behaviors that could allude as cheating.

spencer tried to bite back the grin that was forming on his face, he looked down to try and conceal it.

“i’m sorry about that…” his tone seemed untruthful. he wasn’t sorry about it, because he knew the things he’d done with you while both of you had a ring on your fingers.

you gnawed on your bottom lip. thinking of an ingenious comment that would make him laugh. a quip to start some friendly fire. something that could break through the crushing tension that lingered between the both of you, like thick vines wrapped around your neck, making you unable to speak.

‘i love you, it’s ruining my life’ was all that your brain could come up with, but of course, this wasn’t exactly the best thing to say given the setting and circumstances. but it was how you felt. you treasured every touch and every word, hanging onto every detail desperately. every fortnight that his wife would be out of town. it was unlawful, but, who were you to neglect an invitation with spencer reid? until then, your mornings are all mondays. stuck in an endless february. unable to move on from what should be yours.

you meet his gaze, regretting it almost immediately. knowing the lethal effects he had on you, like some sort of drunkenness that had turned you into a barely functioning alcoholic. his eyes change, his smile differs. he swallows, clearing his throat.

“we can’t do this anymore.” he speaks, his voice sounds brittle and unsure. you don’t break eye contact. you listen intently to his words.

“my wife…my wife knows that i don’t stay late at the BAU as much as i say i do.”

“im a profiler, i can lie but- it doesn’t take away from the fact that this can’t happen anymore.”

“i mean you know how i feel about you, i just- i just can’t keep up with the ruse. i love you and it’s ruining my life.”

your eyes widen at the last sentence, appalled. you tried to decipher spencer’s words. reading between the lines, seeking for some sort of clue that hinted towards the truth. if he loves you, why can’t he stay?

“okay…can we at least stay friends?” you ask him cautiously. even if it meant no more sneaking around, his eyes would at least stay in your life.

spencer swallowed harshly, your eyes lingering over his adam’s apple as he does so. he looks uncertain. you figure maybe his wife was the one with the real issue, not him. you wanted to kill her.

“sure” his voice was slightly above a whisper. he looked away. almost as if, if he continued to hold your gaze he’d had no choice but to give in. that’s what you wanted him to do, to cave in, like always. you wondered if this would be the last fortnight spent with him, and suddenly, realization hit you like a 10 ton truck. you looked down as well, confidence derailing.

“but you’re still my best friend, spence” your voice was nearly a whimper, sounding like a wounded dog. you look up at him with glassy eyes. tilting you head to the side slightly, eyebrows furrowed as you try to control your emotions. you look down, hands fidgeting nervously.

“yes, of course…we just can’t have those benefits anymore” he wants to do nothing more than to grab you and hold you in his arms. to say sorry for everything he had put your through. instead he looks to the waiter.

“check, please” he clears his throat and hopes the sound of his tearing heart isn’t too loud as you look up to look at him with tear rimmed eyes. you bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. spencer pays the tab, leaving a generous tip. you get up from your seat, incapable to look at spencer in the eye.

you don’t notice him stepping towards you. your breath hitches as you stare up at him, the closest you’ve been to him all night. his calloused hand cups your cheek, fingers tracing your face, to your under eye. you blink, cursing yourself internally as a tear slips. you look away. he sighs, wiping the tears carefully with his thumb.

“im sorry, you know what i’d do if i could…if things were different” his words are just more salt to fresh cuts. even if he sounded regretful, even if he was sorry, you still had the right to be sad.

“it’s fine, you aren’t mine, i shouldn’t be this sad” you harshly take a step back, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. his mouth stays slightly agape at your sudden movement. he bites down at his lip, sighing, admitting defeat. you were right, he was never yours and you were never his. two parallel lines who never got the chance to see what could’ve been if the circumstances were different.

he had corrupted you, nights that belonged to only you would fade into a memory. the touches that lasted a fortnight. the feeling of his hands in your hair, your clothes on his bedroom floor.

you loved him, and it was ruining your life.

“goodbye, reid” you tone was purposefully cruel, and the choice of using his last name. you looked at him for a second, fighting the instinct of kissing him as a goodbye. he stared with pitiful eyes as you walked away, bell chiming as you opened and closed the door. for a moment he regretted everything said, wishing to just run away and live in the mountains, to follow through on that quiet life you had both talked about when the night passed 3am. tangled in bedsheets. he curses his eidetic memory for remembering your tearful expression, comparing it to the soft, sweet smile you had on every time you left him. can he erase every curve, every dimple he knew you had, every tiny change in your expression he could read like a book, over and over? no, he will be cursed with the gift of knowing, just like you’ll be cursed with the sound of his voice. soft and tender, the sound of his whispers of foreign words against your ear.

“Я тебя обожаю.” his voice is quiet, nose brushing against your neck as he places soft kisses against it. you giggle at the ticklish feeling, grabbing his face delicately to stop him.

“what does that mean?” you ask with a smile, pressing gentle kisses to the bridge of his nose, his face heating up in your hands.

“i adore you” he grins, leaning against your hand and kissing it.

“i know that but what does the sentence mean?” he rolls his eyes as you break out laughing, throwing your head over his shoulder, giggling as if it was the funniest joke you had ever told. you look up at him, both of you grinning widely as he places a proper kiss against your lips.

he loved you, it was ruining his life.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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mechaknight-98 · 18 hours

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Beastmaster's Bond II (NSFW) FT Chaehyun

Author's Note: I just really like Chaehyun. Make sure to wish my happy marshmallow a happy birthday.

I winced as I watched Chaehyun leave. “You are in charge until I get back,” Chaeyun responded I faked a smile knowing this week was going to be Hell. She had awakened something inside of me and I was not keen on being caged again. When we lock eyes she smiles gently.

“Hey it will be okay big guy I'll be right back, and we can figure out everything then.” I nod and Chaeybyun leans into my ear.

“Then we can fuck all day and all night,” she says with sadistic smile.

“As enticing as that sounds. I kinda just want to cuddle when you get back,” I respond conflicted. She was a joy to be around when the hormones in my brain weren't telling me to fuck her endlessly. Which I could already feel building up. we raced to get her ready so there was no time to “meet either of our needs” We could see it in the other's eyes. We kissed to scratch that itch but ultimately it left us unsatisfied, but we held strong as I saw her off. I drove back home then back to the zoo to drown myself in work. The first week was easy enough without Marshmallow. Running the zoo was difficult at first and took up most of my time, but I adjusted quickly. By the second week, the possessive and restless anger began to set in. The time difference made chatting together harder for the two of us, but any time she mentioned another guy besides her father I'd feel this violent urge to say “You know who you belong to right,” and it wasn't from a toxic place but this weird place of matter of fact. Needless to say, I missed her, and it was taking a toll on me.

By the fourth week, it hit me and I was out of it. Marshmallow had gone radio silent because the area she was in had no cell service, but on a positive note, I had everything ready for her to move her Magnamalo in, along with having “restructured” the zoo to be firing on all cylinders. I balanced schedules and helped Xiaotang (Chaehyun’s assistant) learn about the zoo because I was going to be helping Chaehyun with hatching Elder dragons moving forward. I also got my passport. Which made me feel worse as now Marshmallow was just a flight and a few grand away. I considered booking it just to see her, to hold her, but I had responsibilities.

On the 45th day of Marshmallow being gone(and the 45th consecutive day of work), I take the day off. I took the time to do a different passion of mine Photography. I drove over the the Aquarium of the Pacific and took pictures within the area. Due to it being a random weekday aquarium was quiet. So I got to have time to think. The possessiveness still raged within me but it was a dull pain by this point and not the throbbing ache as before. While I spent the morning contemplating and putting myself at ease I was interrupted by a call. I took out my phone and answered it

“Ahoy,” I answer

“Hey, Daddy it's your favorite marshmallow can you pick me up,”

“That depends are you asking as a friend or as an employee,”

“I'm asking my Daddy to take care of me,” Marshmallow teased in a tone that sent a shiver through my spine.

“I'll be there in a bit,”

I arrived at Marshmallow’s apartment 35 minutes later where she was lounging on her couch only her bra and panties. As I walked closer to her I smiled at her cute expression. When I was close enough to touch I sat her up got on the couch with her and just draped my arms around her. Chaehyun smiled as she nestled herself in my arms.

“I missed you, Daddy,” she said content. I chuckled and replied

“As funny as this has been can I ask why you insist on calling me daddy?”

“Well at first it was to get under your skin but now it's kinda stuck like how you call me Marshmallow,”

“That was never to get under your skin. you're soft and pale like marshmallows. So my brain made the connecting the fire time we… connected, but you're also sweet like one so it made sense to me,”

“Wait so it's not an insult to my weight,” Chaehyun asked

“Heavens no I love Marshmallows they're great and you're great like one,” I answer. Chaehyun looks at me and smiles before kissing me. I could feel myself losing to lust but I wanted to enjoy our time together a bit more so I broke the kiss and ran my hands through her hair as we lay together.

After another half hour of this, Chaehyun began to grind her ass on my crotch. She did this at an agonizingly slow pace before I lost control and the lust I'd been holding back took over I unclasped her bra and pushed her panties down. Chaehyun mewls as I begin to squeeze and paw her pliant and soft body. I squeeze her thigh and Chaehyun moans aggressively.

“Fuck stop teasing me,” she growls as she gets on top and pins me down. Her eyes are hazy with lust.

“I tried so hard to stay focused but I needed you. I needed this cock in me,” she growled. I gave her a shit-eating grin as she began to stroke me, “So here is how it's going to go. You are going to fuck me until I'm satisfied then we're going go over to the logistics moving into together because I need you and this cock to put me to bed every night,” I smirked at her and replied

“What if I say no?” her vision goes red as she takes me. I groan at the softness of her pussy as it envelopes my dick. She starts grinding figure eight into my crotch.

“You couldn't deny me even if you wanted to. I see it in your eyes. You want me as much as I want you,” she says powerfully. Her voice and atmosphere resonate with a deep part of my soul. Something primal. I look deep into her eyes and I see that primal possessiveness mirrored In her. I flip our positions as I wrap her right thigh around my waist. I massage her tummy with my left hand and her right thigh with my right hand as I forcefully thrust into her.

“God how could I ever say something mean about your body it's just so soft and velvety smooth.” I moan. Chaehyun mewls as I continue thrusting. Chaehyun’s moans are music to my ears as we continue fucking. I alternate my arms and I grip her other thigh and breast.

“Oh God, you're so deep,” Chaehyun moans as I lift her hips slightly to get a better angle. Her pussy tightens around me as I continue thrusting. We lock eyes and I see hers clouded with an intense lust that terrorizes her. She can't stop herself from nearing her peak. “God breed meme fill my fertile pussy with your seed. Let's have kids together,” she screams. My body takes over thrusting into her harder and harder as I chase my peak. Hers hits her on the way there. “Oh my god. I'm cumming she moans as a wave of her juice crashes into me.” Her pussy tightens as I fuck her through her high, and she moans the filthiest encouragement to breed her.

“God fill me with your cum. Make my pussy spill it. Please give me your cum I need it. I need to feel full and make my belly swell. Make me a mommy. Making us official fills me up so much that I can't help but get pregnant. Make my tits swell and my stomach bulge with life, please. Make me a mommy make me pregnant,” Chaehyun moaned, and hearing her say all those things gave me the push I needed to climax. Five weeks of a needed release hit me all at once. I groaned as I flooded her insides white as I gave into her incessant breeding demands, but I couldn't stop thrusting. I needed to breed her more. I felt my body kick into a second gear and I flipped her over and began taking her from the back. Her pussy tightened delightfully as I yanked her prone body up.

“Oh yes,” she groaned as we

“Don't ever leave me again,” I growl at her.

“I won't ever again. I need this cock. I want this cock to fuck Me every day,” Marshmallow replied.

I nod as I grab her wide hips to thrust in her deeper. The possessive feeling reaches a new high, “I'll make sure of it. I'll breed you every day and night. You will begin and end your days full of my cum. Even when you're pregnant I'll fuck you. You're mine marshmallow and no one else.” Chaehyun moans excitedly at that before succumbing to another orgasm. When her body goes limp I realize I may have overdone it a tad. I pick her up and carry her to her bedroom. Well, mission accomplished I guess I think to myself as I wait for her to recover. She sleeps soundly on her bed as I lay next to her. She snores lightly so I adjust her so she can sleep on her side. Feeling her body naked body all over as I try to get her comfortable causes me to stiffen again, and I almost give in right there but I remember the time and place. She's probably tired from all the stuff she did. While she sleeps I field some emails for her about the zoo and play with my switch for a bit (I always keep it and my camera with me.) I let her sleep for a few more hours until I grew hungry. I put some pants on and walked into her kitchen to see if there was anything I could cook. Funny enough she had all the stuff from French toast and omelets. So despite it being almost 7:45 pm, I began work on “breakfast” When I was finishing up I heard the shuffling of her little feet. She yawned as she walked in now draped in the same panties and bra from earlier. Marshmallow looks at me and squints.

“You taller,” she says annoyed

“There's no way,” I reply. Marshmallow groans and goes back into her room before coming out with a tape measure. She walks over to me and uses a step stool to be closer to my head.

“Yep when we first met you were five-ten now you're six-one and three-quarters.,” Marshmallow teased. I looked at her confused. “I know every inch of your body dear and when we started today I had trouble hitting the spots I could normally get to now I know why,” she said with a smile. She looked behind me to see the food prepared. She swipes a piece of French toast and bites into it. She hums in elation at the taste,

“Ah mashta,” she mumbles as she chews. When she finishes she laughs, “Is there anything you can't do?” Marshmallow teased, I replied, “Talk to women normally,” Marshmallow replied with laughter as I fixed her a plate. After that, I fix myself a plate and we eat standing next to each other. I feel content and happy here with her. I never want this feeling to stop.

“Hey Chaeyhun,” I start

Chaehyun looks at me surprised,” using my real name you must be serious,” she says with a serious gaze. I nod and lock eyes with her.

“All that stuff about being together did you mean that,” I ask shakily.

Chaehyun smirks, “is that nervousness I hear? How unlike you.” Chaehyun teases in a dulcet tone that drives me wild. Feeling a little feral and done with teasing I lightly smack her ass and reply,

“Yeah now can you be serious before I fuck you stupid,” Chaehyun smiles as she takes a break from eating to stare at me

“What If I want you to fuck Me stupid, what if I want you to fuck Me stupid for the next week straight,” she asks I try to stay focused I try to fight my urges to pounce on her again and I hang on barely. Her body and voice are just so enticing that I always struggle to resist fucking her every second I am around her.

“Please Chaehyun I want to know where we stand. I…” Before I could finish laying out my worries Chaehyun kissed me with such a deep and passionate fervor that reduced all my worries into sad whimpers.

“You are mine Dinovaldo Bear, and no one else’s,” Chaehyun says with a lustful and possessive fire. She kisses me again with a ravenous hunger that she transfers over to Me. I join her in ravenous lust.

“And you are mine Kim Chaehyun,” I say before kissing her again. I rip her bra off and grope her breast before moving her panties to the side and plunging into her again. Chaehyun smiles seductively as I thrust in and out of her.

“That's it fill me again make sure my hungry pussy is always full of your cum for the next week,” Chaehyun moaned causing me to cum in her again. Chaehyun smiles.

“Oh someone liked that,” she smirks reveling in the power she held over me.

“Can you go again,” I nod then she does the sexiest and grossest thing I have ever witnessed. She put my last two pieces of French toast on her tits and said “Come Finish your dinner.” part of my brain was repulsed but damn was it hot. I got down to her right tit first and lapped up the soggy bread and sucked on her syrupy nipple. Chaehyun moaned as I feasted on her body. I have never experimented with food play (or many kinks for that manner but Chaehyun brought out this ferocity in me that thrilled and frightened me. The passion and desire were there but what if in my zeal I hurt her was something that plagued my mind. As multiple people had mentioned multiple times at this point; I was stronger and taller than I had been before. this meant that I had to readjust to my new strength which would make things awkward. as if sensing my hesitation while I devour her other tit and remaining French toast she said, "Come on Tiger be rough with me I can take it. I'm not delicate. I'm as tough as you are." Rex did it for me. I grabbed her waist and laid her flat on the ground as I thrust into her. we rut in syncopating rhythms clawing and marking each other as our own as we chase another mutual high. Chaehyun (with the help of some groping here and there) reached her release first and came violently. I was so caught up in her body that I hadn't realized she was also milking another orgasm out of me as well. As we basked in the afterglow I smiled at her. She smiled back. "You liked that Rex thing huh?"

"you bet Tiger," I say in the spur of the moment as her hair falls over her face making it look like tiger stripes. I was unprepared for her pussy to tighten at that.

"Ooh someone likes that," I tease. Chaehyun growls and flips me over as she begins to ride me. her pussy demanding I get hard once again. Unable to resist any of her demands my body complies and I let her ride another orgasm. She lifts her head in ecstasy as she says, "Call me that again. I'm your tiger. You're white tiger," she says losing herself further to pleasure,

"Does my tiger-like her new nickname," I ask as she rides me. Chaehyun tightens again and moans as she comes again. I push her off of me and she growls at me. Her eyes are full of hungry lust. as she rubs her body seductively. she crawls to me and corners me in her kitchen,

"More," rolls seductively off her lips. Something in our body chemistry feels like it's changed because her scent is this intoxicating and arousing mix of cinnamon and her natural musk and I am hard again.

"What the fuck are you doing to me," I growl as I pick her up to fuck her again? her walls as usual provide no resistance as I slide into her. she moans in ecstasy. her velvety walls accept me with no effort as I thrust in and out. His body is perfect for me. the perfect softness the perfect taste the perfect smell. the perfect woman. I gaze deep into her eyes before kissing her again. her mouth relents to my force as I explore the caver myself before she moans and cums again.

"Rex give it to me. I need it. Make me your mate forever breed me. breed me again and again,” she says and I moan as I paint her insides white again. I watch as she rides out my orgasm trying to steal as much of my cum as possible. When we relax Chaehyun gets up and has me follow her to the bathroom. She showed me all of her contraceptives. She promptly throws them out.

That signal move changed something in me. A part of me I never knew was there awoken. I walked up to Chaehyun. I run my hands over her every curve and get lost in her eyes. I see many emotions reflecting in her eyes but the one that to me the most is vulnerability. She knows this is a risk but is willing to choose to submit to me as hers. My response is simple,

“You are Mine, and I am yours,” Chaehyun nodded desperately before she replied

“Yes, yes, yes. Please don't leave me.”

“Not a chance, but do be aware once we go down this road please know I'm a greedy and selfish lover there will be no sharing,” I reply. In my attempt to be seductive, it came out sounding abusive so I quickly tried to remedy that.

“WAIT that came out wrong. What I meant to say is that if we are doing this it's all in there's no open relationship no side pieces. We are together,” I reply. Chaehyun smiles and then says,

“I wouldn't have it any other way.”

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #kep1er smut #kep1er chaehyun #chaehyun smut #kim chaehyun

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algea · 2 days

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hi guys here’s some more headcannons for Lars (btw i’m doing these literally right before my exam🥲)

like i said last time, these are my headcannons, they may not be yours…

Lars loves ice cream. Even though he may deny it, he has a massive sweet tooth. You most definitely can bribe him with sweets.

Lars is a cat person. Sorry guys, had to say it. It’s not that he hates dogs, he just thinks it’s easier to take care of cats, plus they’re super goofy. He would probably own a black cat or a calico. Lars would so spoil his cat as much as possible, you think it’s a little unfair.

Lars’ favorite genre of books is dystopian fiction. Something about robots and future make him excited. He really likes the book Brave New World.

Lars takes you on a date every week. That’s how his momma raised him. He may not be from America, but he sure knows how to treat a lady. He really enjoys going to the movies or the beach with you. He thinks you’re so beautiful when the salty air blows your hair softly around you. Lars loves the smell of the sea and thinks that he would definitely propose to you on the beach.

He is super good at video games. Not like the Last of Us or Call of Duty, I mean like Centipede and Donkey Kong. It’s what he grew up playing, so expect him to be insanely good. Also don’t play him in Super Smash Ultimate, he would shit on you fr.

Lars hates when you talk to someone on the phone when he’s with you. He likes being the center of attention when he’s with you. He also thinks it’s super rude because you’re spending time with him. Unless it’s your mom, then he completely understands and gives you some slack.

His favorite comedian is Bo Burnham. More importantly, he likes the music Bo creates. It makes him literally giggle when he listens to it. You think it’s a little weird, but you’re glad he’s actually enjoying something.

Whenever you’ve been at the lab for a few days, Lars always makes you a bath before you come home so you can have some alone time. Probably the nicest thing he’ll do for you, but it definitely shows that he loves you so much.

Lars doesn’t like the heat. He’d rather be in the cold where he can wear multiple layers instead of sweating to death. Poor dude was stuck with that most of his life, so he loved it when he moved to New York.

Mr. Nerd geeks out when someone talks about Ghost Corps in a good way. He’ll yap on and on forever about it if you let him. Sometimes you’ll have to drag him away from the poor soul who struck up a conversation with him.

He has a photo album like the ‘Our Adventure Book’ from Up, which contains photos of you and him together. He looks at it whenever he feels sad or needs motivation.

He has a system of marks for when you looks especially attractive to him. Normally they’re color coded for the color you wear and have a specific shape for what kind of outfit it is.

Surprisingly, Lars’ love language is gift giving. He loves giving you little trinkets that you’ve mentioned you liked. It’s the cutest thing ever. It shows he pays attention to you.

Lars loves it when you wear his glasses. He thinks you look like a nerd and it makes you 10x cuter. If you’re in the lab and you steal them off him, he won’t take them back until you give them to him.

um sorry if these are a little short, i’ll definitely make more in the future

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters frozen empire #lars pinfield #ghostbusters x reader #lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield x you #james acaster

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fruity-fruition · 2 days

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I have this really stupid Ruikasa adopted child AU where it's all completely batshit chaotic.

You think Rui and Tsukasa are already dating here? NO. They just live together. You know how you adopt a stray cat and dog suddenly without planning sometimes? Exact opposite here.

Tsukasa and Rui are working with a theatre troupe that's funding a charity towards a foster care system. They flew out to the area of the production, but the head of the whole thing is actually a couple cities away, so they go and drive out to the place to make sure it's actually decent.

They talk to the higher ups, who thank them for their time, then talk to the caretakers about the project. Of course they want to make sure the fundraising is actually going to go to a good source. During all the discussions, they ended up speaking to some of the children there and just in general, have a good time.

But eventually they drive back. A couple hours out, and they're both hungry and tired. So they pull up at a drive-through to at least get something to eat when they get home. Tsukasa turns to Rui, asking "hey, what do you want?" But to BOTH of their horror, a child pops out the back trunk, asking if she could order as well.

Rui nearly flings himself out the car window and Tsukasa's scream was nearly enough to shatter it.

Turns out, this child had ran away from the foster system into the car with them because she didn't like it there (understandable). Both Tsukasa and Rui are horrified, because fuck, dude?? What are they going to do with an 8 year old?? They're already hours out from the place! So they did the most logical thing they could do right then, just drive back to their stay and figure it out there.

Toshiko, age 8, had snuck into the back of the trunk and stayed terrifyingly silent for half a dozen hours before revealing herself.

(This did cause some concern, so they asked if it was terrible there. She just shrugged, and said "not really... I just... Don't like it)

Tsukasa makes calls to the organization, obviously wanting to get this girl back again but this late hour, and all three of their busy schedules, they're not going to be able to drive her out for a while unless someone picks her up.

For plot conveniences, no one can pick her up until about two weeks or so, so now Ruikasa is stuck with an 8 year old in their temporary living space, all three of them have no idea where to go from here

Cue silly bonding moments and Ruikasa figuring out how to parent while trying to convince themselves they're not madly in love with each other, also failing miserably at staying disconnected with Toshiko

Yeah I highly doubt anyone is going to read this but it's something I just wanna drop bc I love imagining my favourite characters parenting bc I want to parent so I self project

#pjsk #project sekai #tsukasa tenma #rui kamishiro #prsk #ruikasa #tenma tsukasa #kamishiro rui #mango's aus ☆#fru posts

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no-stupid-questions-official · 3 days

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What are some reasons to go for a walk? I want to exercise, I want to get out of the house, I just... don't.

I have a tough time actually going out and going for a walk, to get some exercise; it's hard to convince my brain it isn't pointless (thanks ADHD). Advice like "you can bring along something to listen" falls flat because I can listen to stuff just as well while inside and sitting down; and "think of your future self" alternates between making me feel bad that I'm not exercising for the sake of my future self, and making me actively want to sabotage my future self. To clarify, I don't have a problem with walking itself, and if I feel I have a reason to do it, I'm fine; it's just... GETTING that reason, which I need, because my brain will actively reject anything it thinks is pointless, and I no longer (or I don't yet) find exercise inherently enjoyable. I don't have a pet to walk, I don't have anyone to walk WITH, all the places I might explore and wander in are far enough away that I'd have to make an excursion of it (and thus it's highly likely to simply not happen) and thus walking THERE doesn't work.... "Maybe I will come across some dogs" works as a reason, but only in good weather, and only at the most common dog-walking hours, so if I miss those then I can't use it for motivation.

When it comes to non-exercise reasons to leave the house, there's grocery shopping once a week, and that's about it, aside from anything I do on a whim; but whims by their very nature can't be relied upon. I'm stuck in a cycle of that I don't do things, so I don't have energy, so I don't do things... and I hate it, but I can't get OUT.

#question

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soxcietyy · 1 day

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Temptation

Chapter 7

Your dad is tired of you bringing home these unworthy men. None of them being fit to take care of you or to be given the family business since you are the only daughter. He decides to find you someone fit to be your husband and receive help from the father of the church. That’s when you meet Yuta, though just because he goes to church doesn’t mean he’s much of a saint

Mafia, murder, violence, mentions of religion, (will contain other things in the next chapters)

The rest of the week he spent as far away from you as he could. He would come home late, sleep in a spare room or sometimes he wouldn't come home at all. Ever since that day he couldn't help but maintain his distance. He was scared, he didn't want to frighten you like that again. Not only did that cause him fear but also the fact that he cared about that.

He was Yuta Okkotsu, one of Gojos most important business partners that worked under him. Everyone was supposed to be terrified of him. But just the single though oh you being scared of him gave him an itch.

He tried to convince himself multiple times that maybe it was because this was all new to him. The concept of marriage and now having to care for Someone else other than him. Yea that sounds about right. This will soon pass and he'll be back to his normal self.

He's been away from you for a good length of time that he kinda felt prepared to face you again. Putting his foot down and putting you in your place. A women shouldn't be walking over a men. Maybe his actions were justifiable last week. He told you to stay put and you did not listen which created consequences.

Yea that's it, you deserved what you got and he will not let it slide.

"Yu?" He hears a soft feminine voice speak. He snaps his head from the paper he held to the door way where you stood in a sun dress.

"Darling you know well you're not allowed in my offic..." as he spoke to you he noticed the bruises on your neck that he left last week. That delicate skin of your being harmed by his own hands. He couldnt bare to see the injury's he caused so he looked back down at his paper.

"Yes I know but I'm worried. We haven't been able to sit down and relax. You're always busy or coming home late. We haven't even slept in the same bed. Im worried about us." you say

About us? what a joke, with the way he's been treating you he was surprised you thought that way.

"I don't think what in doing should concern you. Go back to bed and get some rest." Yuta says as he scans the paper he's been rereading over and over again. To him it seemed like a never ending paper. Everytime he read it he would space out on it having to make him reread it over and over again.

“Can I least go out for some fresh air?” you ask him “of course.” He says as he begins writing his thoughts.

“Without someone following me.” You speak. The number of times they had stopped you his week from walking out was outrageous. Every time you confronted Yuta about it he would ignore you and keep on with his business. “you’re not allowed to go out without anyone accompanying you.”

————————

Your angry thoughts influenced your actions immediately. Storming out of his office you quickly made your way upstairs snatching up his wallet that rested on the nightstand. You couldn’t believe that he had just spoke to you that way. This wasn’t what you imaged being married to him was. You felt like an idiot for actually agreeing to something so dumb like this. Anyone would have seen something like this coming a mile away. You were just so stupid, so gullible to believe every word that fell out of his mouth. After putting your heels on you walk downstairs. You knew well that Yuta had guards stationed right out the doors. You were so sick of being stuck here with an arrogant man. All you did was try and be the best wife but clearly, he could care less about you and your efforts. Opening the door, you see a tall buff man standing with is back facing you. You let out a small huff as you quietly closed the door behind you. Taking a few small steps forward you see him turn around at the slightest sound of your heels hitting the floor. “Go back inside before I throw you like last time. “ That did happen didn’t it. “Yuta said he’ll meet me outside the gates. He seemed to have lost his wallet.” You say trying to get pass him.

He lets out a laugh as he blocks you from going further. “do you think I’m stupid little girl? He would never let you go even a few feet from him.” The guard laughs even harder as he shoves you back making you stumble a bit.

You give the man an innocent smile. “Clearly you don’t know him enough to know that he would let me do that. Let me through before I tell him that you put your hands on me.” You talk back.

“What would people say if Yuta’s wife was being man handled? Clearly you would be forced right away. Knowing him he would easily let you go home before killing someone you love.” You stare into his shocked eyes. He mumbled before letting you get pass him. If you knew it was this easy you would if been escaped this place.

Immediately you started walking to the open gates. Walking with the fear of his possible looking outside his window to see you walking of the property. Once you made it out the gates you turn around and shut them. The guard looked at you confused for a second before booking it towards you. That’s when you quickly lock it with the key Yuta always carried in his wallet. You gave him another innocent smile before you ran down the road. Luckily those gates where as tall as pine trees, that means he had no choice but to get another key from Yuta who should be at a meeting about now. Now i9f he had the guts to interrupt a meeting then that was on him. Running as fast as you could in heels, you cut through people’s property’s so you wouldn’t be found so easily. Eventually after so long of running you made it to the city of New York. Yuta did not live far from the city at all making everything supper close to you guys.

Stopping at a coffee shop you rest by the wall and catch your breath. You haven’t ever ran this much in your life before. The adrenalin in your body was still pumping as you held your chest.

“Oh, darling are you alright?”

Alarm bells ran in your head once you heard them say darling. When you look up your met with blue eyes but not the dark ones you know. They were infused with a light green color making them look really friendly. Moving from his eyes to his face you realize this was a total stranger. This man had blonde short hair, chiseled jaw, he wore such a nice navy-blue suit that complimented him. Your mouth seemed to have dropped, mesmerized by his beauty. “y-yes! I’m fine I just got done with my morning run.” You say

“A run? In heels?” he raises his brow.

“yes...”

“Your quite an interesting girl, how about I invite you to grab a drink with me?” he says holding his hand out. You looked at him not being able to believe him but take his hand either way. He grabbed it firmly and walked out with you in his arm.

“ I know this coffee shop with better drink up the street. I had gone to the one we had left to grab a quick drink to go. The I ran into you, and I just love having drinks with people.” He says as he walks with a fast pace. This man was really tall, to the point where it kind of hurt your neck to look up at him.

When you guys got to the place you couldn’t believe how beautify it looked. Planted where planted in so many spots and it smelled like roses from the pots that surrounded you. This was something you’ve never seen before. As you approached a table, he pulled your seat out and letting you sit before taking his own. A waiter soon came up to you guys and asked if you guys needed time to order.

“No need, I would like Americano and for the lovely lady hmm, what do you want tea or coffee?” he tilts his head making his golden locks fall to the side.

“I uh, I like tea.” You say

“ Hōjicha please! Oh and maybe set of your delicious biscuits.”

As the waiter left, he put his attention back towards you. “so do you usually take strangers on-“ “Coffee dates? No, no I am quite a busy man, I was actually free today and well I couldn’t just ignore you.” He smiles. “Oh well thank you for taking me out uhh.” You say ignoring the fact that he called this a date. “How rude of me! I haven’t introduced myself, haven’t I? The name is Angelo.” He says.

“Oh, I’m y/k Okkotsu.”

His eyes seemed to have lighten up once you told him your name.

“Magnificent.” “Do you work Angelo?”

you ask him curious to know his profession if he could afford to go to such a coffee shop.

“I own many restaurants and coffee shops around here, including the one were at. Its quite new actually.” He says as he looks around admiring his work.

“Really? Wow I really love what you did with the place. I is so stunning and it feels like I’m in the middle of a flower field.” You say surprised.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it darling.

“um currently nothing I’m just home all the time but I’m want to get into my husbands business. I want to feel useful you know? But how can I do that when I’m not even allowed to know anything about it.” You look down at the wooden table “oh sorry I started venting without realizing it.” You say embarrassed.

“No need to feel bad I enjoy giving advice to people.” He says as he receives the drink from the waiter that you didn’t even notice. He set your drink in front of you as he took a sip of his. Letting out a satisfied sigh come out as he tasted the drink.

“What does your husband work in” he asks as he licks his lips.

“Trading under a company.” You say as you also took a sip out of your drink. Your eyes brightened the second your tastebuds made contact with the liquid. This was really good, this man kept of surprising you by the second.

“What is this? It’s so good I’ve never had such a flavorful tea.” You bring the cup up to your lips once again.

“Ha, I knew it would be your taste. It’s a Japanese’s tea that has roasted green tea leaves. Its naturally sweet yet has a hint of a smokey flavor in it.” He lifts his hand up in the air to get a waiter’s attention.

The man quickly runs to him and ask him if everything is okay. Angelo reassures him everything is good and that he just wanted to know if he had a bag of the tea you were currently drinking.

“oh you don’t have to do that! I can always come on my own, I want to support the business.” You say.

“oh sweety but what if you can’t go out when you crave it? You already know how husband can be, ugh so bitter for no reason, Speaking of.” He brings his drink to his mouth. “Y- your husband how is he like?”

For a second you thought he was going to say your husband’s name. Then again, he shouldn’t even know him.

“well, he’s…nothing like I expected him to be like.” You say with a sense of sadness. You had no idea why you held such high expectations for him in the first place. You didn’t even know him for that long and here you thought he was going to be the best husband ever. “I just wish he was more caring, kind, and well just loving in general.”

You had no idea what had happened, when you first met him, he was the most kindest person ever now he was something else.

“Sorry to hear that,” Angelo crosses his legs as he stretches them out. “Something like that must not be easy to through, I trust your strong enough to pull through, right?” Angelo looks own at his watch and raises his brows. “it’s near noon, do you need a ride?”

Ride, but to where? You couldn’t possibly go back to Yuta’s. He was going furious when he finds out you escaped. If you ran back home, you feared your dad would call Yuta since apparently, they were buddy’s now. You could get a hotel room, but they would be able to track you right? At this point he must have already called everyone he knew to look for you. At your wedding the kinds of people that came up to him were unexpected, bank tellers, police, business people, doctors, and more. They all probably had all eyes and ears out for you. You couldn’t held but fiddle with your wedding ring to ease your thoughts.

“Or you could come to work for me, you can be my secretary for the day.” He offers with a genuine smile.

“really?! But I’m a women, wouldn’t people look down on you?” You say feeling a bit excited for the opportunity.

“You think I care about other opinion? Is that the way your husband thinks? Such a childish mindset. Common let’s go to my company building.” He says as he helps you get up.

AN: Guys I wrote this on my laptop on word during my finals. I typed 5 pages of fanfic and thought I out did myself and once I pasted it onto here I screamed. YOUR TELLING ME THIS IS HOW 5 PAGES LOOK LIKE.

#yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk second years #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #yuta okkotsu x y/n #jjk yuuta #yuta okkotsu smut #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuuta headcanons #yuuta smut #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuta x y/n #yuta x reader #yuuta x reader

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cannibalsforbreakfast · 21 hours

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Cruel Summer - Chapter 1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The "Eddie Munson is a speedway racer" high school AU no one asked for, but you're getting it anyways. Enemies to friends to lovers | No-Upsidedown AU | Fast cars, fast times | Reader moved from "the city" to Hawkins

Tags [will be updated as things progress]: swearing, underage drinking, dangerous driving, Jason sucks as usual, mentions of weed, light angst, misunderstandings, reader is afab, not sure if I'll have smut yet or not

A/N: Chapter 1 is already on Ao3 but here's the Tumblr version! New chapters will always be posted on Ao3 first, with a week or so delay to here.

CH1: 3,780w

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“Hot summer streets and the pavements are burning, I sit around / Trying to smile, but the air is so heavy and dry”

If anyone had asked, you wouldn’t have said car racing was something you’d be interested in. Watching hunks of metal speeding around in circles always seemed pretty pointless to you. When combined with the auditory chaos of engines and screaming crowds, and nauseating smell of gasoline and burning rubber, it had never been high on your bucket list.

Then again, neither had moving to Hawkins, Indiana. And yet, here you were: stuck in small-town nowhere for (just, you hoped) the summer. But a summer practically felt like forever to you.

And so you were at the speedway car races with your cousin, Robin. Because apparently, she said, it would “be fun” and “social” and “lots of people went.”

You supposed you should be lucky Robin was pretty chill about hanging out with you. After all, having your city-slicker cousin practically dumped on your doorstep without so much as a “by your leave” by your parents — who had gone off to “rediscover themselves” and hopefully salvage five years of impending divorce — probably wasn’t high on HER bucket list, either. She and her parents had been more than welcoming, sticking you and your five overstuffed suitcases in the spare room on the second floor, just next door to Robin, without hesitation and urging you to make yourself at home.

If you saw Robin and her parents exchange some pointed and pitying glances, well, you’d just try and ignore them. Because they were right. Your parents clearly didn’t care enough about you to take you with them on their wild second-honeymoon or whatever, so they’d abandoned you without looking back, saying they’d pick you up in a couple months before school started up again. They thought. Maybe homeschooling had been implied as a possibility if they happened to return a bit later than assumed from…Panama? Costa Rica? Whatever warm, probably tropical, place they’d gone to. Without their only daughter.

Honestly, sometimes you just felt the truth of it in your bones when, at the height of their marital Cold War, they’d each called the other some variant of “frigid bitch.” Only the coldest of the cold would up and abandon their offspring like that, without any evident desire to really take responsibility for them ever again. If you just wandered off at the end of the summer, got a job waiting tables in the nearest big city, didn’t bother to send a forwarding address, you didn’t think they’d be too fussed. Depressing.

The frozen atmosphere at home had gone on so long, you’d practically adopted aloofness yourself as a survival mode. What you didn’t feel, couldn’t hurt. Didn’t help you with making any friends once you’d entered high school, but it kept anyone from really bothering you for three years. The summer before your senior year was supposed to be this golden eternity of afternoons at the pool, perfecting your tan, or giggling at the local mall while licking ice creams and debating who-liked-who-liked-who.

Not wasting away in Hawkins, a town small enough you bet you could count all of the stoplights on one hand.

You missed the city so much it ached . Missed the dizzying heights of the buildings towering above you, missed the way the very air seemed to thrum with an energy, a beat that got into your pulse and made you feel alive. Missed the hole-in-the-wall restaurants on every street and the used bookstores piled high with more volumes than you could read in a lifetime. Hawkins was…quaint, but inside you worried if you stayed here long enough it would drain the life out of you until you couldn’t make it anywhere else.

Not that you’d say any of that to Robin, who was babbling cheerfully away at your side as you strolled up to the local speedway just out of town. She was wearing a loose striped men’s shirt with the cuffs rolled up and jeans, despite the lingering heat of the evening. Robin, you’d come to learn, was pretty much always babbling about something or another, a natural condition that tended to get even worse whenever she was flustered or nervous. Given your tendency to listen, rather than speak, you actually balanced each other out rather well. With her, surprisingly, you felt you could be…yourself…that little bit more. Felt a bit of that icy shell melt away.

You tuned back in to hear her say, “We’re going to meet up with Steve, he’s gotten there early to stake us out a spot. You wouldn’t think it but it can get really crowded and picking the right spot out of the sun and the dust and on the right side of the track is, like, crucial to the enjoyment factor. Steve’s a boy, by the way. He’s not my boyfriend – well, he’s a boy who’s a friend, but we’re not like that, actually he’s more like an annoying brother. But he’s not annoying, I promise!”

You smiled to yourself as Robin rambled on. Truly, you found it more endearing than not.

“I’m sure he’s nice,” you said, cutting in so Robin could actually take a full breath. She smiled back at you.

“Yeah, he’s great. But don’t tell him I said that, I swear his hair grows an inch every time someone says something nice about him.”

You smiled and promised that, of course, you wouldn’t breathe a word.

The two of you step up to the bored-looking teenager taking tickets, and you passed over your paper stub, slightly sweaty from being clutched in your hand. Stepping through the entrance gate, you’re immediately assaulted with the smell of deep-fried foods mixed with beer, the raucous laughter of crowds of families and teens here for an evening out. A fine dust permeated the air, making your eyes water. The track, a packed dirt oval that was both bigger and smaller than you imagined, spread out before you, bordered by some haphazardly stacked rectangle bales of hay you assumed were there for the “safety” of the crowd, though they looked anything but. You imagined any car crashing into those at serious speed would take them out easily…as well as the onlookers setting up their camp chairs frighteningly close to the barrier.

Across the track, a small elevated building rigged with wires and a mounted loudspeaker was clearly where the announcers were situated. Tinny commentary was blaring from the PA system, but it was almost impossible to hear above the general din.

There were mullets and wife-beaters on display everywhere. As you looked around, you noted that everyone – and you mean everyone – seemed to be dressed in nothing more formal than jeans and a shirt. You hadn’t batted an eye when Robin left the house like that, because that’s what your cousin always wore. And she’d told you to dress casual but…

“Robin,” you asked, “am I overdressed?”

She’d been herding you along the track toward one end, but at your question she glanced over at you and winced, which you supposed was answer enough.

“Robinnnnn,” you whined.

“What?” she protested. “I said ‘casual,’ that’s what you came out in, so I figured it was fine!”

Up until you saw the sea of daisy dukes before you, you’d thought what you were wearing was casual. It certainly was back in the city. The simple, white-and-red polkadot dress you were wearing, cinched at the waist with a plain wide belt you’d dug out the bottom of your suitcase, cute frilly sleeves sitting just below your tanned shoulders, wouldn’t have been anything your classmates back home blinked at. You hadn’t even done your makeup, besides a swipe of lip gloss! But you were rapidly getting the sense you’d have to redefine your expectations here in Hawkins. And with the swirls of rust-colored dust almost constantly permeating the air, you could already tell white was a particularly bad choice.

Oh well, you’d just have to make the best of it. And get the dress in the wash sooner rather than later.

“It’s alright, Robin,” you reassured your cousin, who’d been worrying at her lip while you thought. “It’s just a dress. Plus, it’s not like I’ll be in any of the cars,” you joked.

“Steve’ll probably have a blanket or something you can use anyways,” she said. “He’s a dad like that. Oh look, there he is. Steve! Steeeeve! Ugh, he isn’t listening. OI, DINGUS!”

Robin waved frantically at a boy a bit ahead of you, who’d staked out a pretty prime spot on the hillside around the middle of the straightaway, complete with camping chairs, picnic blanket and cooler of what you desperately hoped was something cold. Now this is what you’d imagined when Robin said “races.” And it was comfortingly far away from the hay barrier.

The boy – Steve – raked his hands through his already artfully disheveled mop of hair and rolled his eyes at Robin.

“Could you shout any louder?” he grumbled. “Jesus, I think the whole crowd heard you.”

“Oh don’t be such a wuss. Hey, this is my cousin. She’s cool. Cousin, meet Steve. He’s a dweeb.”

“A dweeb with charm, also known as the best kind,” Steve said with a smile, reaching out to shake your hand. “I heard you’re in town for the summer. Welcome to Hawkins – guessing it’s a pretty big change from where you’re from.”

“Um, yeah, wasn’t sure what to expect, but it’s better than I thought. Lots of nice people,” you offered him a small smile in return, a bit taken aback by the easy way he folded you into the dynamic.

“I’ll bet,” he agreed. “First time at a speedway?”

“First time at any kind of races,” you admitted. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Not much too it really,” Robin said around a mouthful of beer. Clearly, she’d helped herself to Steve’s stash, but by the way he just shook his head, you got the sense this was basically normal. He silently offered you a bottle, but you shook your head – maybe in a bit. Steve did seem nice, but you weren’t quite ready to be under the influence under someone new just yet. Robin kept talking: “Cars go zoom zoom, and the one that goes zoom zoom the fastest wins. We mostly just come here to support Eddie.”

You cocked your head. “Who’s Eddie?”

“Friend from school. He’s been working extra shifts all summer, which is why you haven’t met him yet. He works down at the local body shop, races on the side. We’ll point his car out when he’s up.”

You nodded, sure he’d be nice too, if Robin’s taste in friends so far was anything to go by.

The three of you sat, chatting amiably for a few minutes, and you felt yourself relaxing into Robin and Steve’s easy, familiar banter. They traded well-worn jabs back and forth, but there’s no heat behind them. You settled yourself on the blanket between them, tucking your skirt beneath your legs and mostly enjoying the vibe, only chiming in when you had something to say, like when Steve started to say “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” was supposedly underrated (he was wrong, and both you and Robin soundly told him so).

As the sun finally started to go down – days were still long and hot, and all three of you were peevishly slapping at overly familiar mosquitos – the track lights finally flickered into life and it seemed like things were about to start. Robin let out a squeal, wiggling her knees in excitement.

You were all ready for – you didn’t know, monster trucks or something? – when, to your surprise, the first line of cars that raced onto the track looked more like glorified go karts than anything else. Seeing your confusion, Steve leaned over and murmured, “They do the kiddie stuff first,” and you then saw that the drivers did seem awfully young. Fortunately they were wearing helmets.

The announcer counted down the start, and at the waving of the first green flag they tore around the track, kicking up immense clouds of gasoline-scented dust that settled over everything – your hair, your clothes, you could even see it coating the fine hairs on your arm. Gross.

And these little kids were vicious. Not crashing directly into each other, but drifting aggressively around the turns and cutting each other off within what looked like inches to spare between bumpers. Everyone was cheering on individual numbers, and you, Steve and Robin got into it by picking your favorite car and rooting for them at the top of your lungs. After a few heats you felt your throat dry up, and gratefully accepted one of the cooling bottles of beer Steve offered.

Beer with friends on a Friday night. Weirdly, this felt more like how you thought summer was supposed to go than you figured you’d get in Hawkins. Or anywhere.

As the night wore on, the races of the small and mid-sized cars started to blur into each other, and you started idly wondering when you’d be able to go home. Well. To Robin’s home.

“And nowwwww, the event you’ve all been waiting forrrrr!” shrilled the announcer.

From the back paddock where all the cars were parked, there came a grunty rumble. A vibration that made its way into your bones, your veins, the thump-thump of your heart. This was the rhythm you’d been missing, filling you up from the inside out.

And then, the first line of proper-sized cars ripped their way onto the track, to a massive cheer from the crowd. But you weren’t even sure you could call them “cars.” Dinged, dented, and beaten back into shape, these were machines reduced to the essence of speed. Any extra baggage had clearly been ripped out – seats, radio, even the entire bottom half of the trunk was gone. What was left was the engines, the driver’s seat, and anything essential to make them go.

They ran a few menacing laps around the track, jostling for position on the grid.

“Look, there’s Eddie!” Robin pointed.

“Which one is he?” you asked.

“The black one, with the red bat on the hood.”

“Eddie’s always had a flair for the dramatic,” Steve clarified.

Your eyes traced the black car as Eddie maneuvered it into the inside of the track, on the front row – “That’s a good position,” Steve clarified again. Unlike most of the other cars, which had paint jobs in varying states of peeling off, Eddie clearly kept his car freshly painted despite the risk of damage – it gleamed, pitch blank, with just the blood red of the bat leaping out of the design. From what you could see of Eddie, as he was mostly shielded by a helmet, he was also in all black.

“I’m sensing a theme,” you muttered dryly.

Like horses jostling for position, the cars – there must have been a dozen or so – revved their engines just behind the starting line. There was an agonizing moment of tension, where everyone stared at the red stoplight holding them in place.

Then it winked green, the flag was waved, and the race began.

You watched as Eddie’s car and the one on his right, painted a chipped red-white-and-blue roared to the front like bats of out hell. They gunned it down the straightaway before whipping into a drift around the curve that was so aggressive, their cars yawing onto two wheels so hard, your hands flew to your mouth to swallow a gasp despite yourself, sure they’d tip over or spin out. Magically Eddie’s car righted itself as he came out of the turn and he gunned it down the next straight, neck and neck with the other vehicle.

The laps went by in what felt to you like seconds, a frenetic dance conducted at speed. With the razor-thin margins the two cars took the turns, you knew that if Eddie lost concentration for a nanosecond, he’d be out of the race. You blinked dust out of your eyes furiously, loath to miss a single second. Next to you, Robin and Steve were yelling – you were pretty sure Robin was just repeating profanities at this point – but you could hardly make yourself breathe normally, let alone cheer.

There were only a few laps to go and the other car had stolen the lead from Eddie. Though Eddie was keeping the black monstrosity right on his tail, pushing himself right into the rear bumper to try and throw the other driver off.

They made another sharp drift around a corner and, as they came off the curve, Eddie made his move, pushing the throttle to take his car around the outside of the red-and-white leader. He took the turn, hard, trying to get his nose in front of the other car’s, and this time you did let out a whimper of concern. Your heart thumped in time with the roar of the crowd, and when Eddie made it, slipping in front of his rival to cross the finish line first, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

Steve and Robin were now jumping up and down and hugging each other, and you smiled at their infectious joy.

The other cars coasted to a stop in the middle of the track while Eddie took his victory lap, waving the checkered flag from out the driver’s window. He must have spotted the two maniacs next to you, because the car rolled to a stop on the track in front of you, and Eddie stepped out from the car.

You knew he drove like a devil, but you weren’t expecting him to look like a fallen angel.

A strange shiver ran through you as you watched him pull off his black helmet. Long, dark curls spilled out, framing his sharp, sculpted face. Even with his bangs sweat-soaked and disheveled, he was capital H-O-T. Dark hair, dark eyes, with a plush mouth you knew was made for sin. He was everything your parents would have warned you away from, and everything you – or your body, at least – immediately wanted.

“Be normal,” you thought to yourself. “This is Robin’s friend .”

Robin and Steve trotted down to the side of the track, and you trailed behind them, a little unsure. It was the last race of the evening, and with the entertainment over, the crowds were starting to melt away. It didn’t escape your notice that while all the other drivers were getting handshakes and back-slaps galore from their fellow racers and even some officials, no one had come over to congratulate the actual winner, Eddie, except for the three of you.

“Edieeeeee, you won!” Robin shrieked at her usual top-volume. “But also, ugh, you smell like fumes, ew no, don’t hug me.” She wiggled away from his playful attempt at a hug, wrinkling your nose.

“Comes with the territory, Robin, you’re just gonna have to get used to it. You certainly don’t mind when I’m fixing your car for free, again . Hey, Steve, nice of the King to make an appearance.” The two boys traded fist bumps, Steve rolling his eyes at his high school nickname. You broke into a wide smile at their antics.

Eddie’s eyes met yours, where you lingered behind, and he arched one eyebrow, his previously warm and open expression becoming more guarded, scanning you from the top of your windswept hair to the bottom of your now quite dusty flats. Your smile faded, and you resisted the urge to brush yourself off in the face of his gaze.

“Who’s this?” he asked. “Wasn’t aware we had a third cheerleader on the squad. Does little miss Dots like what she has to see so far?”

You find yourself bristling at his presumptuous tone. “I don’t quite take your meaning,” you respond stiffly.

Eddie laughed, an open, easy sound you could have loved – except for the sharp edge to his voice. He straddled the hay bale, spreading his hands open. You tried not to look at how his black racing uniform stretched tight over his thighs. Really, you tried.

“Come on, guys, this is a joke, right? Ha, ha, Eddie’s first race of the season, let’s get a cute little cupcake of a girl to come along, flirt a little, string lil ’ol Eddie along? Give the girl a ride to remember?”

He fixed his molten brown eyes on you. “Did someone put you up to it, Dots? Patrick? Jason? It’s the sort of shit thing Jason would do.”

By this point, both Steve and Robin were exchanging a confused glance that clearly conveyed their shared sense of, “uh, what?” But you knew exactly what.

Eddie had taken one look at you – at your too-much dress, too-much smile, maybe something else you didn’t even know in your demeanor – and concluded that the only possible explanation for your presence was that you were a…paid escort? Hooker? Someone bribed to come watch his race and flutter your eyelashes at him, spread her legs?

You felt the usual protection of your ice queen reputation from back home freezing off any earlier warmth from your expression.

“Someone clearly has a high opinion of himself. I’m not going to cream just because you’ve got half skills with half a car. Get over yourself. Robin,” you turn to your cousin, “I’m going back to the house.”

“It’s miles to the house,” Robin protested, nervous gaze flicking between you – fuming – and Eddie – nonchalantly picking at his cuticles, not sparing you another glance.

“I’ll walk.” It was only a mile or so to Robin’s, and you didn’t want to spend a single second more in his company, friends with your cousin or not. Eddie’d done a spectacular job of reminding you why you usually didn’t do things that were “fun” or “social” or that “lots of people” went to. You didn’t need another asshole man in your life, your father was doing a bang-up job of that by himself.

“I’d give you a ride, Dots, but as you can see,” Eddie gestured to the literally empty passenger seat in the stock car next to him, “I can’t.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed, whirling around and stomping off before reaching a hand up to swipe angrily at the tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

You heard Robin run after you. “She’s my cousin you MORON,” she called back to Eddie. When she caught up to you, you gave her a watery smile in thanks, and she reached over to squeeze your shoulders.

New item for your summer bucket list: Never, ever see Eddie again.

-- -- --

NEXT TIME: You and Robin go to a party.

#cruel summer #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson fic #enemies to friends to lovers #speedway au

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yacinthemorning · 2 days

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Birdsongs

Chapter 7

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Summary: The Life Pilgrimage is the biggest music festival of the century, set to take place all across the continent. Small-time rock band, GIST, and the up-and-coming alternative band, Empire, are both lucky to be among the hundreds set to make appearances, but there's just one problem. Neither can afford the travel expenses on their own. For better or worse, they're stuck with each other for the next five weeks as they try to make their dreams come true.

And, perhaps, among the chaos and music, two unsuspecting souls find one another...

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic), Jimmy & Scott (platonic)

Warnings: Alcohol, drugs, verbal fights, theft, divorce talk

Jimmy was driver for the second day in a row.

Not that he minded. Actually, he’d discovered so far he quite liked driving, especially the trailer. It felt satisfying, the movements the vehicles made when he turned the wheel or pressed on the brakes. He caught a lot more of the scenery when he had to concentrate, also. Time just passed by faster, more peaceful. One of the few times of this trip he could stop thinking.

It was a bit funny really, because he’d waffled on acquiring his license until college, so he hadn’t gotten to drive much as a teen. Then he’d gotten together with Scott. It wasn’t something they talked about, but even when they drove Jimmy’s car the keys always ended up in Scott’s hands. After moving back in with Lizzie he’d sold his car to cushion himself. Joel was the sort of guy who refused to let anyone touch his baby, so more often than not he was driven around or carpooled. Really, the fact that Jimmy was even allowed to drive the trailer seemed wild to him, but he was glad he was.

Especially now, with everyone so quiet.

The trailer bounced on the uneven country road. There was a whistle-like squeak and a thunk. Joel groaned. Between the lights being off and the shade of the forest outside Jimmy didn’t bother trying to check on him. He took a deep breath of the morning air as it rushed past the open window, letting his hand hang against the outside of the door. There was a hum on his tongue, but he kept his mouth shut to avoid fratricide.

Another bounce, another whistle, another groan.

Shuffling footsteps slowly approached, and this time Jimmy did check the mirror. It was Tango, eyes still shut and using the walls to navigate his way up until he flopped down into the passenger seat. Jimmy smiled, “Mornin’, sunshine.”

Tango let out a grunt, head reclined and face pulled tight around his nose as he tried to adjust to the bright window. He flicked his red sunglasses out of his pocket before even daring to try opening his eyes. “What sort of mutant are you to be so perky this early?” He muttered, eyes squinted. They scanned about until they landed on the half-folded map across the dash, and snatched it up.

“One who had seven AM classes and never readjusted.” He shrugged.

“That’s such a lie.” Wheezed Lizzie from somewhere in the back. Jimmy could picture her wagging finger. “You’ve always gotten up at unholy hours and I know you know it.”

“Hey! You would have never made it to band practice all of grade eleven and twelve if it weren’t for me!”

“Twas you whom sealed my fate, oh retched inhuman beast.”

“A thank you would be fine, you know!”

Thump, whistle, groan.

Tango snickered. “Alright, so where’s the hospital?”

“Should be a few miles up the road in another town.” He reached over, tapping a red H located on the map. “Another ten minutes probably. There’s a Ricky’s across the street from it so we can meet there for breakfast and sort all our stuff back into the right vehicles.”

The mention of food elicited a happy chorus from the zombie horde. Jimmy smiled and reached over the console for his water bottle before pushing it into Tango’s face. “I refilled all the ones I could find before disconnecting the water.”

Tango blinked, eyes dilating at the speed of molasses as his brain clicked back into reality. “Look at you, thinkin’ of everything. What’d we do without you?” He grinned and took the bottle. Jimmy felt his cheeks warm, back straightening up as he turned his attention onto the road.

Thump, whistle, groan.

His hold on the wheel tightened. “Well, all the responsible people are at the hospital, so someone has to do it.”

“I’m not sure going to the ER ‘cause of a bar brawl screams responsible.”

The bottle clunked back into the console, Tango scooting forward in his seat to lean his head back. Not on Jimmy’s watch. “Says the man without a seatbelt on.” He said, then cringed. It sounded so much more obnoxious when he said it aloud. If it bothered Tango he didn’t show it, fumbling for the belt with one hand and eyes closed.

“Ah well, stuff like this is gonna happen.” Tango said. “Better to get it out of our systems early, right? It’s all smooth sailing now.”

“Are you trying to dare the devil or something?” Joel interjected from his seat, giving voice to Jimmy’s thoughts.

But Tango waved him off, “What? That’s how you’re supposed to do it. Go wild the first little bit so everything after feels like a walk in the park! That’s how we’ve always done things, shakes off the nerves.”

Jimmy wasn’t so sure that’s how it worked, but he certainly hoped it was. As much fun as last night had been, it was probably for the best it was behind them.

A sign flashed by, almost too fast, telling Jimmy it was finally their turn off the freeway. Trees gave way to a town that was more of a giant truck stop, uncomfortably sparse with everything paved over, and enormous signs advertising fast food joints and gas prices heads above the tallest building. Actual homes were scattered further out in the hills or awkwardly dotted among the half-empty parking lots, their picket fences and old shingles all that was left of when the town must have been much quainter.

Their bandmates were already waiting for them outside the hospital, and five minutes later they were piling into Ricky’s for brunch. Judging from its proximity to the hospital and the fact that Jimmy could recognize several faces at the other tables, it probably wasn’t a surprised the waitress didn’t question why they all smelled worse than they looked. Scott managed to escape with only a split lip and bruise under his eye, his stitches being for a long cut up his forearm. Fwhip was not as lucky. Gem was already busy making fun of the man who looked like he’d been one with the bar floor mid-brawl. She was one to talk, given the black eye she sported. Jimmy was pretty sure he saw her nearly bite someone’s ear off, though, so he abstained from interrupting her.

With ten people their orders came in rounds. First came Pearl’s omelette with the works alongside Scott’s bennies and Skizz’s ridiculously huge grand breakfast that seemed to be three of everything. It was less ridiculous when Jimmy realized he was sharing with Impulse. Then came Gem’s clubhouse, Fwhip’s chicken tenders, and Lizzie’s fish and chips. After that was Joel’s bacon cheddar burger, and finally-

“Here you are, buttermilk pancakes.” The waitress announce cheerfully as she slipped one plate in front of Jimmy and another in front of Tango, placing a single plate with butter, strawberries, and maple syrup between them. Or, rather, directly in front of Joel, who was sat in the middle of them and giving Jimmy the most unimpressed look. It was his fault for insisting on sitting across from Lizzie instead of beside her.

Tango snatched up the butter, seemingly unsatisfied with the single square already atop it. In the process he all but pushed the strawberries onto Jimmy’s plate. More than fine by Jimmy. “So, Miss Manager, what’s the verdict on getting to the venue today?” He asked, giving Jimmy a thankful grin when he was passed the syrup that made Joel pretend to shove his knife down his throat to gag. Jimmy knocked his leg.

Pearl hummed until she could swallow. “Should still be able to make it if we just keep going, maybe ten or eleven?”

Just shy of twelve hours with breaks and dinner. “Y’okay to drive that long on your own?” Piped up Impulse, the only other person without a headache or head wound.

Jimmy nodded, “Think so.” He frowned, looking the man up and down. “Um, would you prefer to switch?” It may have been Impulse’s car, but it was still cramped compared to the trailer. Impulse waved him off, though.

“We need more buns and salad before we go.” Chimed Gem.

Skizz balked. “What? What happened to the tub of macaroni salad?”

“Someone left it out.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. I hate that stuff!”

“Sounds exactly like something someone who left it out would say.”

“Why does it matter? You didn’t have to throw it out, one night wouldn’t hurt it.”

“Um, ew? It absolutely would!”

“Yeah, I gotta agree, it’s pretty nasty...”

Joel smacked the syrup right out of Tango’s hand as he passed it over the shorter man’s head. It clattered to the table, rolling off into Jimmy’s lap. “Joel!” He shrieked, pushing up out of his chair. The case hooked over the back of his chair clattered loudly to the ground, wringing winces from those around him. Both his shirt and jeans were coated in sugar. Everyone paused in their arguments to watch Jimmy squirm in his own skin. The whole restaurant was, actually. Jimmy’s face turned beet red, grabbing a napkin to try and at least wipe down his arms, but the thin paper just curled and tore and created a worse mess. Joel just laughed.

“Here, dampen it.” At the very least Pearl tried to help, dabbing another napkin into an untouched glass of water, but it didn’t help much.

He sighed in resignation, and began to pick up his poor guitar. It was a delicate process not to get it coated as well. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“We should find somewhere to do laundry, too.” He heard Scott say behind him. “Some of you have been wearing the same clothes for a few days now and you can smell it.”

Several individuals protest, all people Jimmy knew for certain qualified for that statement. He hurried along before he could get caught in the crossfire.

The dryers were taking their damn time.

Tango chalked it up to the things looking about thirty years old and beaten to crap by who-knows-who.

The washers rumbled under him, eyes glued to the ever spinning clothes. Goosebumps ran up his arms from the air conditioning, a constant reminder he was stuck in his undershirts and shorts. His own fault for throwing all his clothes into simultaneous loads. There was the softest tune under the hum of machines emanating from a portable radio in the staff booth echoed by his bass. He’d taken a page out of Jimmy’s book and brought it in with him. Of course, he wasn’t about to plug the thing in, lest the ancient temple’s Edwardian era wiring explodificate and leave them with nothing but wet clothes and sadness. That didn’t mean he couldn’t strum along to the Steve Miller Band while longingly watching the concrete outside bake.

“How does he do that?”

Tango let out a screech like a shot seagull, almost falling off the washer. When had Jimmy and Gem gotten here? How long had he spaced out? The two weren’t even paying Tango any attention while Jimmy slipped his case off his shoulder and popped it open. Gem dropped a grocery bag and hopped up on the washer beside him, enclosing the tallest between her and Tango, while he organized his fingers along the strings. “What?” Tango finally asked, grabbing the two’s attention.

“That little- like, the cat call.” He muttered, mimicking the whistle. Hands absently adjusted to what he thought might be the proper notes.

Gem reached out and adjusted his ring finger. “I’m pretty sure it’s that, then you just sorta...” She pulled away, air-guitaring the motion for him to copy. He did so, but without being plugged in it was hard to tell if he’d gotten it for certain.

Tango’s eyes followed the movement of his left hand. Theoretical tones played along in his brain. Too stiff. He scooted around until he was facing them. “Here.” He called for their attention. When Jimmy’s curios gaze shifted from Tango to his bass Tango showed his own attempt at the segment. One he’d done long ago but not since. Both guitarists had their eyes glued to his hands, making him second guess every single choice he’d ever made in life that put him here, thinking he could teach other people how to play their own instruments while in his skivvies in public.

They foolishly mimicked him anyways, pleased with whatever popped up in their own mind’s eye. Tango went back to strumming along with the actual bass. Gem happily jumped in as well. “I’m a joker, I’m a smoker, I’m a midnight toker, I get my lovin’ on the run,” she sang, too pretty. Jimmy quickly picked up after them on the guitar after a stumble in the first notes. Something Tango was beginning to suspect he was incapable of not doing. For someone who spent his time on stage just setting the beat, Tango thought Jimmy handled the solo better than expected. The lazy guitar was well out of his comfort zone, though, his movements still stiff.

Both men half-heartedly joined Gem’s singing as the song came to an end, her hands slapping the lid of the machines as some type of drum. Tango’s nose began to itch. The song faded out and the channel host piped up. At the same moment the machine Tango sat on ended its cycle, buzzing at him. All of it was drowned out by the loudest sneeze Tango had ever suffered, the force of which was enough to knock him right off his precarious perch. Enough to scare his companions.

“I think Skizz’s grandma heard that!” Gem laughed.

But Jimmy frowned, “Do you need a sweater?”

“S’in the dryer still.” He sniffled, trying to keep his eyes from watering.

That didn’t deter the guitarist, who went for their laundry bag, then stumbled outside towards the trailer when he didn’t find what he was looking for. Tango wondered if he even noticed he still had his guitar around his neck, case abandoned. Another machine buzzed, this time a dryer.

“He’s definitely going to bump off the doorway.” Gem whispered. On cue, Both ends of Jimmy’s poor guitar slammed into either side of the trailer, almost throwing Jimmy to the ground. He stood there, confused, before he hugged his guitar to his shoulder and went in sideways. Tango raised an amused eyebrow towards Gem, who was trying not to laugh too loud. “Oh, silly Jimmy.”

“Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.” Tango tried to defend even as he also began to giggle. He absently grabbed for the laundry bag and yanked open the dryer. The warmth soaked into his skin.

Gem rolled her eyes and sent him a pointed, unimpressed look. “That’s ‘cause you’re also a silly goose.”

“Guilty as charged.” He couldn’t exactly defend himself on that one. So, he changed the subject. “You two play well together.”

There was a hum Tango thought might have been agreement. “We picked up guitar around the same time, so we learned together from my mum.”

He’d heard it before. How Gem had gone from only wanting to sing as a kid to feeling embarrassed it was all she could do in her teens. Nothing wrong with expanding your horizons, he had told her. As often as Tango experimented with new instruments he always wandered back to his bass.

“You were part of Empire, then?” He asked.

Gem shrugged, “Not really? I mean, we played together and Lizzie and Scott were writing some songs, but the band didn’t really exist yet. They talked about it a lot but I don’t know, guess I knew from the start I wouldn’t end up playing with them.” She grinned, “I have way more fun with you guys, anyways!”

Maybe it was just his imagination guilt tripping him, but it felt like there was something almost determined and a bit desperate in her last statement. He looked away. “It’s been fun playing with you too, Glitter Girl.”

The door creaked open, and Jimmy tripped through it. One hand held his guitar flush to his chest, while the other was wrangling a familiar blanket that had been rapidly unfolding itself. “I couldn’t- Scott wouldn’t let me mess with the clothes he already folded, but...”

“Thanks, partner.” Tango smiled, letting the man throw it over Tango’s shoulders like a cape. He didn’t bother to mention that he now had access to several pieces of his own clothes. It couldn’t hurt to wait for the second load. What was he going to do, suddenly be even more embarrassed than he already was? Besides, the blanket had trapped its fair share of warmth from the dryer, and Tango was very quickly sinking deeper into it.

Jimmy’s smile was shy, cheeks just slightly rosy, before he turned towards his guitar case. Leaned out of the way, Tango got a clear view of Gem once more, who had her clasped hands to her cheek and was making kissy faces at Tango. Like the responsible adult he was he stuck his tongue out at her. She giggled. Well, at least he had company now.

It was ten to eleven when they rolled into the next venue. They were lucky to do so, as check in would close for the day after eleven. The very grumpy and tired staffer was particularly adamant on reminding them of that fact through the entire process. They made it, though, and they parked in their place. A gravel lot used for parking, with no room for much else between vehicles. Worse yet, there was separate designated spaces for cars and trailers, so the car wound up a quarter of a mile away. It all sucked, to be frank, but it also didn’t matter. Everyone was too tired and too excited to care. Everyone except Scott, at least, who was already preparing a speech that would make whatever poor worker he would confront tomorrow morning about these inconveniences wish they were never born.

For the rest of them, though, it was bed time.

By this point in their journey, Jimmy had become used to waking up wrapped around Tango. It was cold at night and the man was practically a furnace, sue him. The sun had yet to rise, but there was a subtle thumping from the bathroom before Scott walked out, sans makeup or patience. His exhausted glare landed on Jimmy and warped into a raised eyebrow. Jimmy’s face turned pink, rolling over and burying it into Tango’s hair. No confrontation came of it, only a snort. Still, he waited until the door rattled close. Someone else in the trailer groaned, but no one got up.

After a long moment of debate, Jimmy decided to begrudgingly get up. Someone should make breakfast, and he was on a usefulness streak lately. When he sat up, though, Tango’s face scrunched and he was pulled in tighter. Jimmy muffled a snort, “I’m not your teddybear, you know.” he murmured to the sleeping man. A pillow seemed to suffice as a replacement for Tango. It did not do so for Jimmy himself, who was now surrounded by freezing morning air and clinging to his equally cold guitar. Right, sweater first, then teeth.

Ten minutes later Jimmy made it out of the trailer without waking anyone else. Scott was, predictably, nowhere to be seen. Whoever their neighbour was to be had yet to arrive, so Jimmy got to work pulling out the folding table.

The smell of coffee woke someone up. Jimmy was halfway through setting up chairs when something inside slammed against the wall. That, or someone went face first into the bathroom door. Pearl’s face poked out the door, hair still twirled up in a braid and a sheepish smile on her face. “How’s it going out here?” She half-whispered.

“Was about to mix up scrambled eggs.” He explained, motioning towards the table. Milk, cheese, and the whole carton of eggs patiently waited next to an unopened tray of breakfast sausages and bag of hash browns. “We got some miniwheats if you want something now, though.”

“I can wait.” She flopped down into one of the folding chairs, next to the one Jimmy’s guitar was leaned in. He threw her an orange juice at the very least. “So, where’d Scott run off to?”

Jimmy tilted his head, frowning. Not that he was an expert, but that was most certainly not Pearl’s usual tone. She was focused on getting the straw into her juice box when he looked to her, though. Was he still half asleep? “He’s-”

“Right here.”

Now that tone Jimmy was an expert in. Tired, cranky, and done with everything, but, like, while still covered in glitter and a spotlight. There was no way to tell if he was actually enraged or just wanted to put on a show. Either way, Jimmy counted down with perfect timing to Scott’s hand slamming against the table and letting out the world’s longest sigh. “The organizers at this venue are absolutely incompetent.” He whined, head lulling dramatically as though he’d been shot. A show it was.

“Oh really? How so?” Pearl indulged.

“Well, by not even being awake yet, for one.”

“It’s six AM, mate. Give ‘em at least until eight, there’s like five people here at this point.”

Scott pouted, glancing off into the distance as if he was really considering it until he huffed. “I’m awake now, though, and I want to give them a piece of my mind.”

“A piece, or the whole pie.” Jimmy teased, pointing the whisk at him before turning towards the eggs.

There was a gasp, “Jimmy! Of course not.” There was an odd quiet moment that followed. One that had Jimmy worried until he heard the hash brown bag shake. His head shot up in time to watch Scott place the frozen bag back into the cooler.

“Hey!”

“They’ll thaw.” Was his only explanation before he went to sit down.

Jimmy’s nose scrunched up in annoyance. “They’re just hash browns, it’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t want to have to buy a whole new bag like the salad.”

Another protest almost left his lips, but they clamped shut as he watched Scott run his hands over his face. Bags under his eyes and bruises all over his arms still. You said it yourself, it’s just hash browns, not a big deal. He went back to preparing the egg mixture and setting the table, waiting for more folks to awaken. If Scott needed to stick his nose in things to get over his mood it wasn’t his business.

Pearl had much stronger words for him from what Jimmy could make out from her tone, though too quiet to catch much of what it was. Given he heard something about punching Jimmy guessed it was about the bar still. He snorted, good luck with that. Scott had always been a messy drunk, like one of those toy cars. The tighter he wound during the day the worse it was when he let go. Something people had to learn on their own, he supposed.

Some time later Impulse and skizz tumbled out of the trailer, perkier than any of them, and Jimmy was finally allowed to pull the hash browns out of the cooler.

Jimmy was sitting with his chin up on his guitar when Tango stumbled out, last of the whole bunch and clinging to the pillow Jimmy had left him with like a lost child. He caught sight of Jimmy and beamed a toothy grin his way even as he shivered like a leaf in the cold morning air. Whatever was left of Jimmy’s earlier sour mood flew away. “Anything left for me?” He asked.

Skizz answered, putting sombre hands on the sleepy man’s shoulders. “You know what they say, Top. Early bird gets the worm. I’m afraid you’ll have to starve.”

“I made you a plate already.” Jimmy announced, pulling the pot lid off the plate sat behind him and holding it out. “You’ll have to make the toast, though, if you want any.”

A smug little noise left Tango along with a matching look towards Skizz, “Thank you, and that I do.” He then turned to the toaster and spun the dial all the way up to charcoal levels. That, Jimmy mused, was a practice he could never get behind. But to each their own, he supposed.

Then something whistled.

There was no thump.

And others paused.

“Okay, what is that?” Joel hissed as he approached the tires. “There a leak?”

“Never heard a leak sound like that.” Impulse chimed in with concern and joined him. Jimmy pulled his case closer.

Another whistle. Another no thump.

That one had Pearl, Scott, and Skizz all joining in the search for the defect. Lizzie worried the hem of her shirt. “Oh gosh we only just got to the second venue. I hope nothing’s broken.”

“You okay?” Tango asked, and it took Jimmy a moment to realize it was directed at him. He shrugged back and buried his face in his case.

“It’s from in here!” Skizz called out. The storage lock clicked open. “Kinda sounds like- WOAH, HEY!”

The whistle turned into a frantic flurry of chirps and rattles. Someone nearby gasped.

“What in the world-”

“Is that a bloody bird?”

“Oh my god!”

“Stop! Don’t open it!”

“Who would...”

“Put it down, put it down!”

Metal clanged against the gravel lot. Jimmy finally peeled himself apart enough to peek out at the scene. Most of the two bands were surrounding a painted cage, where a little yellow bird was flitting about in a panic. Instantly three sets of eyes turned onto him instead. Lizzie, Joel, and Scott.

“Jimmy.” Scott said with great strain.

Jimmy shrunk away, face twisted. “What?”

“I couldn’t help notice you don’t seem all that surprised.”

“Wait a minute, I’ve seen this before.” Skizz interrupted them both, kneeling down next to the cage. “There was something just like this in a house next to the park.”

Lizzie’s hands went to her hips. “James Solidarity, did you steal a bird? Don’t you lie to me!”

“No!” He lied.

Joel��s hands went to his hair, a humourless laugh escaping. “Dude, what the heck, you didn’t even drink! Why did you steal a bird?”

“I don’t know!” He curled his whole body around his guitar. “I was just- everything was really exciting and- look, I’m not the one who got stabbed with a broken bottle!”

“Uh, this ain’t about me right now, dude.” Fwhip muttered, though he nudged out of the circle to hide behind his bandmates.

While his own bandmates continued shouting GIST stood to their own side, caught between shock and amusement. At least Impulse and Gem seemed shocked. Tango was doubled over, cackling like a madman, while Skizz tried to hide his giggles and failed miserably. “Oh this is too good.” He said. Pearl had her own hand over her mouth, impossible to tell what his emotions were except from the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes. None seemed angry. It made Jimmy feel much better, if he could only block out the yelling from his peers.

He launched forward, spurred on by a new wave of confidence, “Look, I know it was stupid-”

“Stupid barely begins to cover it.” Scott drawled, rolling his eyes. “What are we supposed to do, now? We can’t just bring it back, we’re on a schedule. And what if someone saw you? Did you think this through at all?” His foot was going against the gravel, letting Jimmy know how close he was to the end of the fiddler’s nerves. For once it only put more coals on the fire. It was Scott’s fault in the first place for his own stress, he had no right to put it on Jimmy like he was the only one who did something stupid in the last few days.

No, it was entirely unfair. “Everyone’s made a fool of themselves, why are you singling me out?”

Scott gaped. Wrong answer. “Because there is currently a fucking bird in our trailer right now! That you stole and that I’m going to have to clean up!” He snapped, throwing his hands at the cage and then at Jimmy. “Why are you always like this!”

Everyone quieted. GIST’s giggles died while Empire’s various reactions all settled into concern. The indignation had fizzled out from Jimmy’s heart as well, leaving him stubbornly silent as his face heated. Scott’s chest heaved, glaring Jimmy down and oh, if looks could kill he’d be nothing but minced meat ground deep into the mud. It’s about what he felt like in that moment.

Fwhip was the first to dare break the silence, placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder that was promptly thrown off. “Hey, it’s fine. I’ll just take the car and bring the bird back.”

“No, you won’t.” Scott hissed. He tore a lighter out of his pocket. “You need to be here to sell our CDs and manage contacts while we’re performing, and you can’t do that if you’re busy a day’s drive away searching for the owner on your own, because Skizz and Jimmy are not going back with you.” As he rambled his grip shook and the cigarette he fumbled with snapped in half. It was thrown to the ground, “Fuck’s sakes...”

“Hey, buddy, calm down.” Tango interjected. He was silenced with a single side eye, but Pearl took his place.

“Look, this is entirely fixable. If Fwhip can’t go then I will, and if not we’ll find another solution. It’s not the end of the world.”

If Scott heard her he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead he stomped off towards a neon green trailer down the way, leaving the group caught in the awkward atmosphere. When some of the eyes turned to Jimmy he took up examining the gravel under his own feet.

“Well, that... was a lot.” Impulse chuckled.

Tango snorted. “A lot of bullshit.”

“Tango!”

“What? It’s true!”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s come over him.” So started Fwhip’s apologizing, rambling on explanations to avoid their bands’ collective embarrassment. Jimmy could still feel his blood simultaneously boiling and frozen in his veins and did not bother to contribute.

A delicate hand landed on his arm, Lizzie’s eyes wide and glossy. “Are you okay, Jim?”

He shook off the touch and went to grab the cage, and bolted for the door. The moment it shuttered behind him muffled conversation picked up outside, audibly tense. Instead, he put the bird down on the counter, crawled into the safety of bed, and pulled his case into his lap. The leather was cold against his forehead, cooling his quick breaths before they buffeted back against his throat.

This was inevitable. They all knew it, it wasn’t like five whole adults were completely oblivious to the winding key that had been tightening since the start of this trip. Since the divorce, really. Or maybe before. Probably before. It still hurt.

Free from the dark the bird began to chatter. What seemed so soothing days ago grated against the last shreds of Jimmy’s composure. “Shut up.” He tried to snap but it came out more like begging. Of course, he canary had no idea. The chirps continued on. He thought he might be able to feel them scraping against his brain. It was probably thirsty and hungry, the kinder part of him reminded. He didn’t want to be kind right now, though. It was all he could do not to find something to throw at the cage.

The door shook. Jimmy didn’t look up, but he recognized the sound of heavy steel-toe boots by now. There was the smallest sound of a breath catching, but no words followed. Instead the bird cage rattled, agitating both the canary and Jimmy. “Here, find some food for it or something.” The bassist whispered to someone before the canary’s cries became distant. Jimmy knew from the way the trailer tipped that Tango had not left with it, but nor had he entered further than needed to close the door. He was probably waiting for some sign from Jimmy, whether to go away or not. Not a question Jimmy was sure he had an answer to quite yet.

“You want breakfast?” Tango asked instead.

Jimmy wanted to say no, but his stomach protest. He shrugged. The trailer shook and a box thunked against the counter. At first he assumed Tango was pouring cereal until he heard the faucet and something scraping. That was apparently enough to get Jimmy to peek. Butter hit the frying pan, and he watched half-baffled, half-fascinated, as Tango poured batter into it soon after.

Cooking took only a few minutes. Really, with the instant mix it was amazing how quickly it could go. Inevitably, the fire alarm went off, startling both of them. Tango grumbled and hissed while waving a towel around. It didn’t take long, but just long enough for Jimmy to loosen the tight ball he’d pulled himself into. Giant boots still on, Tango sat down on the bed next to Jimmy and handed him the pancakes past his guitar.

They sat in silence through the first half, Jimmy slowly shovelling bites that were a bit too big into his mouth while Tango looked at everything but him. Eventually, though, the guitarist remembered his manners. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Tango assured, even though it certainly was.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said instead.

It got a shrug and a shift to a more comfortable position on the bed, accepting the silent invitation. “Every bands’ been there. Can’t tell you how many times me and Skizz have yelled at each other.”

“But not like that.” Guessed Jimmy, which from the look on Tango’s face he was right. He sighed and set his plate aside. “He’s never yelled at me before.”

“Really?” There was a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“Yes.” Jimmy shut down immediately, though his full reply took another moment to gather his thoughts. “Silent treatment, passive aggressive comments, but we’ve never yelling. Not seriously. Never had a fight.”

“Nothing at all?”

He paused. In the grand scheme of things, Tango was still a stranger. All of GIST except Gem were, really. Having someone new to talk to was great, and Jimmy wasn’t clever enough to deny his growing fondness for Tango, but he was still mostly a stranger. One who didn’t need dragging into their band’s silly interpersonal drama. Maybe, though, that Pandora ’s Box was already ripped wide open, given the incident that just occurred. If they were going to be stuck with it for the next month they at least deserved to know a bit more.

Or maybe Jimmy was just looking for an excuse to let it all out on some poor guy who was a bit too nice to him. His tongue made the choice for him, beginning to spill out the story before he thought anymore about it. “You know there wasn’t a fight even at the end?”

Tango perked up, attention fully turning on him now with a sombre expression.

“I just- there never was. I remember thinking now and then about what getting a divorce might take. Scott’s the one who organized all the marriage stuff. There’s probably something poetic in there or something.” He let out a humourless laugh. “But, one day I just sort of... did it. Nothing happened. Normal day. I just called up and asked after work, and then I had the paperwork in my hands.”

He could picture the scene quite clearly, not from that specific day but from how many times he walked through that side door. The teal paint that was beginning to chip, the colourful fish themed wind chime, the tall trashcan he always caught his jacket on no matter how many times he passed it. “Scott was sitting at the table writing a song or something. I put them down beside him and asked if he could sign them. Think he already knew, not like I do much paperwork stuff. He didn’t say anything, though. Just read it like I was handing him a flyer or anything else. I don’t know if he really was fine with all it said, it was pretty heavy in his favour since I was the one with family nearby and the house and car were his to start. But he signed it. Four minutes of reading and he just signs it and hands it back.”

“After that was like the most normal conversation in the world, too. Asked when I wanted to move out, when he should call Joel and Lizzie to come over, if I had boxes yet.” And Jimmy had replied much the same back. Of course, he knew what was going on in his own head at the time. A whole lot of nothing and everything all at once that made the rest of the day pass in a blur until he was in the spare room at Lizzie’s. It took a day before he finally had his first breakdown over it, and of course it had to be at the dinner table in front of both his sister and brother-in-law. “We didn’t see each other for two weeks, and then we were back in his studio, practising for a gig that was coming up. It was like none of it ever happened. Talked about it one more time, wrote a song about it as you do, just to get it out of our system. Peachy after that.”

“That’s a lot to just sweep under the rug.” Tango finally interjected, brow pressed into a stressed line. Saying it out loud, Jimmy understood. The whole thing was ridiculous.

He leaned back, letting his guitar fall off beside him. “But we never yelled at each other.”

A particular loose thread in the blanket had captured Tango’s attention at some point, long enough for his finger to have gotten under the weave and pulled it further. He’d turned his full awareness onto it now, unlooping his finger and trying to smooth it out despite how long gone it was. Jimmy began to think maybe Tango wasn’t the person he should be talking to about this, that it should be Lizzie, or maybe some random person in a bar. Someone who wasn’t straddling the line, unquestionably on Jimmy’s side of things.

He had the sudden urge to assure that Scott was a great guy, it was both their fault things fell apart, that he was normally kind and funny. Anything that might leave Tango with a better impression than yelling and binning a seven year relationship and three year marriage without a fuss. It didn’t make it out of his head though, past the fog of annoyance that stubbornly clung to him. Deep down he knew he wanted Tango to join him in being spiteful and angry, some sort of external assurance it was okay. Either side being validated would make him just feel like crap.

Yeah, he definitely shouldn’t have chosen Tango to talk to. He was going to blame the pancakes, who wouldn’t blab after that?

It took him a moment to register Tango was speaking again, after an eternity of silence. “You wrote a song about it?”

Jimmy shrugged, patted his case. “Quick thing in like twenty minutes. Fixed it up here and there, but it’s still pretty awful. Bunch of self-indulgent metaphors and stuff.” Scott had joked, once, that it was an example of why he and Lizzie were the lyricists and Jimmy just played guitar.

“Do you play it?”

“Just with each other.” In fact, he could count on his hands the number of times they’d played it. “Whenever things get a bit tense. Don’t think either of us brought our copy along.”

“Does it help?”

At that Jimmy had to pause. Did it? Sometimes. It helped them get back into the groove of working together in the band, reminded Jimmy they weren’t just husbands, but friends and bandmates. It probably wasn’t what they needed specifically, but it did something. So, he replied, “Yeah.”

“That’s good.” Tango said genuinely. “Maybe you guys should do that then? I don’t know, sorry, I’m not very good at this sorta thing.”

He laughed. “No, you aren’t. I thought you were going somewhere with that.”

“Listen, I’m trying!” Tango threw his hands up. “I mean if I were you I woulda knocked the guys’ teeth out, got the daylights knocked outta me back, and never showed my face again. I might still do that anyways, who knows.”

“Aw, don’t do that, I’d miss you.” Jimmy bumped his shoulder into the others, trying hard not to keep giggling.

A smirk stretched across Tango’s face, eyebrows jumping up to where Jimmy worried about the piercings in them pulling at the skin. “Oh is that the part wrong with that? Maybe you aren’t as forgiving a guy as you seem.”

“Nope, I’m an angel.”

“I’d believe it.” Tango got up. “Point is, I talk a lot and don’t say much. You two seem to have a lot to say, though, that you don’t like talking about. Can’t be to good for your noggins. Or your music.”

Jimmy sighed, and accepted the hand held out towards him that pulled him up out of bed. “No, probably not. I wouldn’t know where to start, though.”

“That one is definitely outta my pay grade. You’ll have to upgrade to Skizz or something. I’m just bozo over here.”

As he said it he reached up and squeezed his own nose, making a strange noise that took Jimmy far too long to realize was supposed to be honking. He barked, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh my gosh, what was that?”

“Hey! Don’t laugh at my joke!”

Jimmy burst, doubling over.

The door opened, interrupting their laughter. Joel poked his head in, looking wary only for a moment before he got a good look at Jimmy and his shoulders visibly dropped. “You guys okay in here?” He asked anyways.

“Think so?” Tango replied, gaze darting back to Jimmy, who nodded.

“That’s good. Couple of us were going to go get a look at the stages while Pearl talked to the organizers. You feeling up to coming along, Jim?”

He suddenly became painfully aware of how cramped and stuffy the trailer was, now that everything seemed lighter. “Yeah, okay.”

They were filing out when, “Oh, hey, Jimmy?”

Jimmy turned, watching as Tango’s hand hooked around the strap of Jimmy’s guitar case and lifted it up off the bed, holding it out towards him in question. A hand flew to Jimmy’s shoulder, and he blinked. “Thanks.” He muttered, taking the guitar and throwing it back into its usual place. It never felt so light.

Tango grinned, and slapped him on the back. “Alright, let’s go!”

#solidaritek #team rancher #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #scott smajor #geminitay #mcyt #trafficshipping #traffic series #fanfic #fanfiction #modern au #hurt/comfort #sharing a slice of cake

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happy74827 · 1 day

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The Demon With A Heart

[Crowley x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Crowley saves your life, you can't help but think it was a little more than self-interest.

WC: 1858

Category: 99.9% Sexual Tension (lmfao), 0.01% Fluff + Angst? {TW: Mentions of Demons (obvi), Murder}

Crowley is too iconic not to have fics. I said what I said.

『••✎••』

You didn’t know how to react. It was as if your tongue was taken away, and you couldn’t talk, no matter how much you wanted to thank the man.

No, the demon.

You stood there with wide eyes, staring at the King of Hell, Crowley. He looked the same as before: a clean suit, a snarky comment, and a look of disgust on his face. But, instead of being on the opposite side, he was wiping the blood off of the angel blade he used to kill the angel that jumped you.

He just saved you—The King of Hell.

The very man who told Sam and Dean countless times that he doesn't do anything for free and doesn’t help people without getting something out of it. Yet, here he was, standing in front of you, not asking for a single thing.

The thought was a bit unsettling.

"Purely out of self-interest, darling," He says, breaking the silence and putting the stolen blade into his jacket. "Call it a favor that I plan to collect in the future."

He was about to leave, but you couldn’t let him go. Not without a thank you, at least. You didn't want him to think you didn’t appreciate what he did.

"Crowley."

The man turns back around, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"Thank you"

The corner of his mouth turned upward, forming a small smirk. He didn’t say anything but rather kept his eyes on you for a second longer. He then disappeared, leaving you in the dark.

And it did leave you in the dark. For days, weeks, months. He never came for that favor, and he never brought up what happened. In fact, he barely talked to you at all. It was always towards the Winchesters.

You began to believe it was nothing but a dream. That Crowley somehow didn't save you. The angel was a fake, and this was all some sick joke. It felt like gaslighting.

But you knew what happened was real. You remembered the blood splatter and the dead corpse. The way his face contorted when he pierced the angel's heart.

It was all too real.

So, why was he ignoring you? Why did he pretend that it never happened? Was he going to hold it over your head? Or was it just the fact that the King of Hell did something nice for a human?

Was it because he… cared?

One night, you got your answer. It was a quiet night filled with books, tea, and soft music. At least, it was before those idiotic brothers decided to tear down the bunker in search of some book.

You couldn’t remember the exact reason they needed it, but you were too tired to argue. So, you stayed in your room and tried to fall asleep.

That is until the lights went out and the emergency lights kicked on. Okay, now you were annoyed. You got up, slipped on your shoes and a coat, and walked out of your room.

"Alright, what did you two-"

You paused mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the figure in the library. The man was facing the opposite way, but you knew exactly who it was. The familiar black suit and hair gave it away.

"Crowley…"

"Hello, Darling,” he replied, turning around and smiling at you. It was almost unnerving. He didn’t have a malicious aura or even an evil one. Just... a smile.

You looked behind him and noticed… well, nothing. You were expecting the Winchesters to be with him, and yet, it was just him.

"Where are the boys?"

"Moose and Squirrel? Ah, they're off somewhere, doing... well, you know. Something heroic, I suppose. Figured I’d stick around… enjoy the scenery."

That’s when you looked up and understood what he meant. He was stuck, quite literally. Those devil traps they put everywhere finally did something good.

You half-expected him to bring up that 'favor' he was talking about or maybe even just demand to get out of there, but he did neither. Instead, he looked at the ground and sighed.

At the moment, the King of Hell looked just like a caged puppy, sad and alone. If he wasn’t such a… demon, you might have even felt bad for him.

But, you left him in there, strolling along to the kitchen to find some kind of light. You were not giving up your two hours of reading due to power loss.

As you shuffled through the cabinets, looking for any form of match or lighter, the lights flickered back on.

So that’s where the Winchesters were.

You shrugged and turned back to your room but stopped at the entrance to the library. Crowley was still there, but this time, his face was twisted. He was clearly pissed.

"Why did you do it?" The burning question you wanted answered for months finally came out. Crowley stopped his little fit and turned towards you, a confused expression on his face.

He looked like he had no idea what you were talking about.

"I do a lot of things, Chipmunk. You'll have to be more specific."

You walked towards him, resting down the candles and book on a nearby table. You didn’t know why, but the need to confront him was growing.

"Save me all those months ago."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You were getting closer, now only a few feet from him. Crowley, however, didn’t back away. Instead, he watched as you moved, his expression unchanging.

"That angel could’ve killed me, yet you came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I know you don't do anything out of kindness, so why did you do it? What do I offer that no one else does?"

Crowley stayed silent for a while, not giving any indication of answering your questions.

You thought it was just a lost cause until his expression changed. It was subtle, but you caught it. The corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes widened, then narrowed.

He almost looked ashamed.

"It's just like I said. Self-interest." He spat out, his voice sounding like venom. You almost took a step back. It still sounded like the same old Crowley, but his tone was different.

You decided to call his bluff.

"I don't believe you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his face. He was amused by the sudden attitude, but it didn’t last long.

"And what makes you say that?"

"I saw the way you looked at me after you saved me. Hesitancy, almost. Like you were unsure. As if..."

The King of Hell stared at you, waiting for the last part of your statement. He was eager but not for the answer. No, he knew what you were going to say.

He was just waiting to hear it come out of your mouth.

"You care."

Those words hung in the air, both of you processing it. Crowley continued to stare at you, the smirk disappearing, leaving his face neutral. He had a blank expression.

A silence grew, the atmosphere turning awkward. It wasn't until the demon let out a loud sigh and looked to the side that it was broken.

"You’re really pulling on the heartstrings, Chipmunk,” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If I had one, I'd say it was aching."

"Do you?"

You knew what you were implying. Crowley was the King of Hell, the ruler of the damned. He was the furthest thing from human, yet he could walk among them and, sometimes, be mistaken for one.

Was it possible for him to be human or even have emotions?

Crowley looked at you and frowned, clearly not liking the topic. But he didn't deny it. It was a strange sight—the King of Hell, frowning and silent.

It was almost adorable.

"I'm not asking for anything. I just… want an honest answer."

"Well, I am a demon, love,” He stated, his tone changing to a more playful one. “Honesty isn’t quite in the job description."

"Crowley"

You were starting to get impatient, and it showed. Your voice was firm, and your posture was tense. You wanted an answer, and you were determined to get it.

The demon in question let out another sigh and looked at the ceiling as if praying for a quick escape.

"You're a pain, you know that? It's exhausting." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But, I suppose, since you asked nicely..."

The man looked at you, his lips pursed. He was still hesitating, which only made you more curious.

"Yes, I care. About you. Happy?"

You blinked a few times, processing the information. Did the King of Hell, the person known for not giving a shit, just admit he cares?

"I-" You started, not knowing what to say. It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Crowley wasn't exactly a bad guy, well, a demon.

"Do you actually mean that?"

"Now that…" Crowley started, his voice low and deep. He leaned towards you, making you back up, but the wall soon prevented you from going any further.

He was inches away, his breath hitting your face. You could see his eyes staring into yours—a pretty brown, like a mocha latte.

"…Is the kind of question that will get you in trouble, love."

You weren’t sure what he was planning, but you didn't care. The way his eyes were looking at you, the smirk on his face, the closeness...

He was probably expecting you to back away, but he was wrong. You were an avid reader, obsessive even. This scene wasn't new, nor was it shocking.

The only shocking part was the fact that you were the one in it. And, well, the fact that you didn’t mind it.

"Unlike you,” you whispered, a small smirk on your face. "I don’t care."

Your response made him pause for a moment, squinting his eyes and giving you a confused look. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Soon, he understood, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Touché"

You truly believed you were about to lose your chance with the man upstairs, but loud footsteps interrupted you.

"Crowley, you slimy son of a bitch! If you’re not here, we are going to-"

Dean stopped talking as he rounded the corner, seeing you and Crowley close. His expression was shocked, almost comical.

"The hell is going on here?"

You and Crowley both turned to look at Dean, a look of annoyance on the King of Hell's face. Sam came around the corner as well, sharing the same look of confusion.

Crowley gave you one last glance, a bit of disappointment in his eyes, before taking a step back. His attention moved on to the two hunters, his usual smile returning.

And despite the annoyance in the air and the confusion, the only thing that came across your mind was another question that you were sure would take control of your sleep schedule once again.

"Hello, boys," He purred, his arms moving to his side. He was back to his old self, not showing a single sign of what happened moments ago.

Had the beauty thawed the beast?

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mikanotes · 2 days

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lost in translation ft. eunhyuk x gn!reader 4.4k words

genre: angst comfort, ‘enemies’ to possibly lovers warnings: deaths, injuries, blood, mentions of kissing and also suicide (?), smoking, cursing, canon divergence idr half of s1, guns, slightly suggestive at the end author’s note: this was requested! i kinda strayed off the original request sorry TT it got a bit angstier than it should’ve but oh well! have this i missed him

summary: The development of your feelings for Lee Eunhyuk in the middle of an apocalypse, and struggles of leadership.

Green Home Apartment is not a place you would ever allow to crumble.

From the very first hours of the outbreak, people saw a leading figure in you. A seemingly natural instinct to guide people and keep them as safe as possible. Someone strict, just firm enough to keep panicking residents in line and gentle enough to reassure other equally terrified people.

The perfect leader, really. It wasn’t exactly the role you would have wanted had you imagined yourself in this situation prior, but you felt you didn’t really have a say in the matter. You were just a college student, and within a few hours, at least ten people in your apartment building had voiced out their agreement on you being the perfect captain for a broken and sinking ship.

So when this guy with a blue flannel gave off the same impression as you apparently did— enough to convince people he would be a good leader, too— you were mildly relieved. Part of you felt like it was a good thing someone else would take the reins for this whole thing. It was too much pressure for you. But another part didn’t feel at ease. After all, you didn’t know this guy. People trusted him for a reason— He did seem mature, headstrong, and determined. Good with instructions and quick-witted. But you didn’t know if that would be enough to let the people here, or you, at least, survive this.

If you were to survive this in a group, you would need to have some kind of authority when it came to making decisions. Surviving alone was fine, but being stuck with so many people meant certain chaos, attempts at democracy leading to stupid decisions, and your life being stacked between at least twenty others with barely a word to say when they would all eventually be led to sure death. You’d damn near experienced it already, and that was more than enough for you.

So you didn’t step away when Lee Eunhyuk, as you eventually learned his name to be, took the place of a leader. And thankfully, it seemed the residents hadn’t expected you to. So weeks ago, you and Eunhyuk were appointed as leaders of Green Home during the monster apocalypse.

“Going there would be suicide.”

“So you suggest we stay here and wait to die? Do you genuinely think the people in the next room over will be fine with that?”

Leaders who get along perfectly.

“I suggest you use your head a little. There’s resources in much more accessible spaces than this. The store at the side, for example?”

“I’m not sending anyone there.” Eunhyuk states blankly, in his usual emotionless fashion. You narrow your eyes and bite back a scoff.

“Right, I almost forgot it’s about sending out people with you. You’re a coward, you know that?” you say, and he glances at you from the side.

“And you’re just as selfish.” he says, turning to face you properly, “Let’s not pretend you’re any better than I am because you act courageous. You’re terrified.”

“And you’re mistaken. Why don’t you go out there and get to the storage room yourself?”

Eunhyuk’s tongue presses into his cheek and his fingers tightens into a fist. He presses his hand to the table and tilts his head a little, nodding slightly. “We both know without a leading figure this group is done for.” he says, tone much calmer than you’d anticipated. The restraint he has over his anger only serves as fuel to your own. You bite the flesh of your lip.

“Am I not a leading figure?”

“You are, but are you a good one?” he asks. There. There it is, the hint of anger. That cutting edge to his tone. It’s nearly imperceptible but it makes you want to bring out all of it.

“Do you believe I’m not?”

You step closer. He looks down to your feet then back up to meet your gaze. “You’re dodging the question.”

“It’s a weird question to ask.”

You’re close enough to punch him, now, if need be. You won’t. But it’s a good thing to note.

“I don’t think it is, all things considered.”

“Uh,” a meek voice comes from behind you. You turn towards the door to see a man from the group stand with a bottle in hand, moving around uncomfortably, “The others are arguing about rations… You should come.”

You take this as the perfect opportunity to clear your head and not to let your irritation get the better of you. You hum absentmindedly and walk past him to get to the store where you expect everyone to be, leaving the man and a scowling Eunhyuk behind.

“Is- Is something wr—”

“Everything’s fine.”

Everything is wrong.

It’s been less than a day since your argument with Eunhyuk when a new problem enters your life. A guy that looks about your age, that you remember walking past when he moved in, who fell from nine floors high in the stairway. He’s lying on the floor with blood all over and around him. Everyone is scrambling to take a look and Seo Yikyung has to be the one to hold them back, because you and Eunhyuk are too busy checking the supposedly dead man’s pulse for the third time.

“He’s breathing.” you sigh, pulling away your trembling hand from his face again. This is insanity.

“It’s impossible…”

“Get a grip.” you shove Eunhyuk’s shoulder, “Impossible isn’t in our vocabulary right now. Weird as this may be, we can’t just leave him here, so start thinking or I’ll make the decisions.”

He’s shaken out of his thoughts, alright, but now he seems another kind of confused that you can’t bring yourself to try deciphering. He calls your name but you don’t respond.

You don’t exactly look down, but you start to kneel to reach towards the body on the floor. You need to carry him somewhere else, where no one will see how bad it is. There’s kids here and the adults aren’t reliable. You can’t let this cause more trouble.

Your gaze is looking anywhere else but at the corpse— Person. Alive. You almost grab him when Eunhyuk stops you with a hand on your shoulder, effectively causing you to flinch.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

He hoists the limp body up on his back with some effort and holds him tightly so he doesn’t fall. “Tell them to go elsewhere. It’ll only cause issues for them to see more than needed.” he tells you, nodding towards the hallway. The blood that gets on his clothes and the state of the one he carries unsettles you a little, but you nod and hurry outside.

“Go to the daycare.” you say, voice hoarse. Everyone’s chattering does nothing to help you calm down. You’re not sure if they didn’t hear you or if they simply don’t care. “I said go! Right now!” you exclaim, much louder.

The talking silences and everyone reluctantly heads to that place, though clearly still trying to get a glimpse of the situation. You breathe out sharply and stare down at the floor. Your reflection meets you halfway on the tiles, showing you just how little control you currently have on the emotions you usually hide so well. You’ve seen people get killed too many times since this all started but this is was one too many.

You can’t even tell if the stranger’s fall was accidental, if it was suicide, if… You can’t think.

Eunhyuk passes by you and you barely notice. Or rather, you force yourself not to notice.

So much blood.

The sun sets and rises again. Tension does as well.

“We can’t keep on using him.” you say upon stepping into the security office. Eunhyuk is leaning against the desk, eyes trained on the several CCTV screens when you come in, and he seems like he’s about to leave the moment you start talking. You close the door and he gives up. He seems to know there’s no point in trying to leave, now.

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb. We both know you’re not.”

“High compliments coming from you.”

You sigh and step further into the room. “I’m not in the mood to argue, Lee Eunhyuk. Cha Hyunsu, he… He doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. You know it, too.”

Eunhyuk is silent. You see his thumb tapping against the desk rhythmically, like he’s thinking hard about something.

“Lee Eunhyuk.”

“I heard you.”

“Then say something!” you scream.

Eunhyuk turns to look at you. You take a breath. It’s unlike you to let your anger turn to yelling but you feel hopeless. Cha Hyunsu is just a boy your age trapped in circumstances he never asked for, and forced to do the worst part of the work around Green House. Eunhyuk never wanted to send anyone upstairs, yet he decided to send Hyunsu there. Because he’s a monster? Because he survived a several floors high fall? Because he was doomed to live in-between two kinds of evil, neither of which truly accepts him?

It just feels like it hits you harder today that this world will continue to be this cruel. And you two are not making it any better.

“This is the best way.” Eunhyuk says, unfazed. “The group needs to survive. You said it yourself. Cha Hyunsu’s the best bet we have at getting this result.”

“We saw him die, Eunhyuk.”

“He’s alive. You know that.”

“This is unfair.”

“The world is unfair.”

You look elsewhere, annoyed. Eunhyuk calls your name in the same tone he always does. “Your sympathy is useless.”

“What kind of leaders are we if rid of any compassion?”

“… The kind needed to survive.” he says quietly, gaze cast downwards. “Jisu asked for band-aids. Could you bring them to her for me?”

Anything’s a good enough distraction from whatever spiral you feel yourself falling into.

“Sure.”

Days pass. Your anger subsides.

“But didn’t you say it was okay to go there?”

“No, I didn’t.” Eunhyuk crosses his arms, “Who told you that?”

A name is mentioned in reply.

You sneeze.

“Aye, did you catch a cold?” Eunyu scoffs, laughing smoke at the face you seem to be making. “That’s bad. Catching a cold during an apocalypse? Seriously.”

You and the girl are sitting on the fire escape stairs, on the floor closest to the main hall. She has a habit of disappearing to go smoke, or whatever else she does, and you don’t want her getting killed. She didn’t seem to mind you coming to check up on her the first time, and now you have a habit of disappearing to hang out with her.

“I’m fine.” you click your tongue, “Anyways, you shouldn’t be smoking out there. If your brother was here he’d be pissed.”

“Who cares? Let’s not act like he ever shows it.”

You roll your eyes a little and chuckle. “Sure.” you hum, “Still. What’s the point in smoking? During an apocalypse, too? That’s bad.”

She flips you off and you return the gesture, earning a laugh in return. You don’t talk to many people in this place. Your age differs from nearly everyone. Eunyu’s a bit younger, so you’re mostly watching over her. Then there’s Hyunsu, but there’s a nearly visible wall between him and everyone. You can’t blame him for putting distance between you two especially. As far as he’s concerned, you’re also responsible for the errand-running he’s been told to do.

There’s Yikyung, but you’ve struggled to get close since you told her to shove off when she had Eunhyuk pinned to a wall. You’re not sure why you did that, even now. She’d be better company than him, maybe. And you understand her reasons.

Then there’s Eunhyuk.

“Serious talk, listen up.” Eunhyu huffs, “What relationship do you entertain with my brother?” she mimics a serious sounding voice that’s so unlike her. It makes you scoff in amusement.

“He’s a…” You trail off. What is he? A friend? An acquaintance? Whatever could be considered a coworker, at the moment? A fellow leader? “Uh, a person.”

Eunyu gives you this look that is so clearly judgemental that you consider jumping off the railing promptly.

“Yeah, no shit. Good to know he’s not turning.” she scoffs, “I know you hate him. Spit it out.”

“I don’t recall ever feeling that way.” you lie with an obviously fake smile. Eunyu threatens to throw her lighter at you. “He’s fine, alright? We just work together, I guess.”

“He likes you.”

“Hm?”

“He doesn’t hate you, I mean. You’re not stupid, so you noticed, right?” she says before bringing the cigarette to her lips again. You’re confused and it must show because she sighs in annoyance. “Clearly, I’d say the real leader is you out of you two. Aren’t most decisions yours?”

“They’re ours. Mostly his. Trust me, my opinion isn’t as valued as you might believe.”

Her expression suddenly sours and she curses under her breath. “And I think you’re wrong. Anyways, I’ll leave you with the jerk.” she coughs, pushing herself off of the stairs, “Bye.”

You hum curiously as you watch her leave before turning around. Lee Eunhyuk. Of course.

The first thing he does is shove your shoulder.

“What the hell?” you scoff, scrambling up to your feet before you can lose your balance. It’s such an unexpected move from him that you can’t help the words that slip past your lips. “What’s your deal?”

“Returning the gesture. What’s yours?”

“Huh?”

“The gate to the store alley. I said it should stay closed.” he says, “So why are three people on their way back from there telling me I allowed it?”

“Because I allowed it.” you say casually. “It had medicine, water, and some canned foods. Besides, we needed fresh air.”

He stays silent for at least half a minute before he steps closer to you. Close enough for your hands to touch if your arms were to move an inch. “It’s not safe. I said so enough, didn’t I?”

“Have you ever cared about safety?”

“I have—”

“About the people’s, about the half-monsters’s, about yours?”

Your name sounds tense when he says it.

“About mine?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” he grits his teeth. His eye twitches. You wouldn’t have noticed it had you been further away. No, you… you would have. You know his every feature and emotions too well by now. You would realize the most unnoticeable of changes from him. Any of them.

He’s angry.

There.

“Does that piss you off? That I talk so much?” you say, “Is it a problem because you never do? Does hearing someone so much get on your nerves? Should I leave the leading you? Are your decisions supreme? Am I too talkative? Is that it? Is that it?”

He kisses— He almost kisses you. He stops short of pressing his lips against yours, short of holding your collar and bringing it up to meet his chest, short of everything you only now realized would’ve been so good to have.

For fuck’s sake. “You’re holding back.”

“There’s no point in causing unnecessary fights.”

“You’re a coward.”

“You—”

You tilt your head, like you want him to finish his sentence. You do. He’s realized this much.

He takes a breath to calm down and steps back, much to your dismay.

“I know why you used to be so self-centered.”

“That’s…” you trail off, before laughing in disbelief. “What?”

“You almost got killed at the alley to the store, the one you just allowed to be opened. First day of the apocalypse. I remember it. You looked terrified. Then you put your survival above anyone else’s.” he says, “And yet now, you keep on trying to go. That’s something I don’t understand.”

You swallow, images of that monster nearly killing you with its claws, and dragging away a bloodied, dismembered corpse when it failed to find you. The feeling of someone pulling you back into the shadow so you wouldn’t get noticed, and the chaos that ensued in the main hall so quickly that you never got to see who it was.

… Wait?

“That was you.”

“It doesn’t matter who it was. You changed.” he cuts off any questions you might have, “You used to be selfish. People falsely believed you were a good leader just because you seemed strong. But you didn’t care about anyone’s lives except yours.”

“… So what? What changed?” you ask quietly, “Did you fall for it, too? Because I’m still the same, as far as I’m concerned.”

“You don’t get it.”

“I do—“

“The you I first talked to in the security room would’ve never went out of their way to make sure some high-schooler is doing fine. They wouldn’t have been this upset over a random half-monster running errands. You would have been unbothered. And that store you seem so obsessed with would’ve been emptied of the basics before anyone could get them. But it was full, wasn’t it? The store was untouched.”

You’re not sure what to say. Where is he going with this?

“Fine.” you settle with that. “Let’s say that, somehow, you’re right. Then should we talk about you? That you changed, too?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“You never talk this much. Why are you so obsessed with this?”

“… I just wanted you to know.” he says, but it sounds like he’s withholding another response. “It didn’t feel right for me not to tell you I knew about what happened after all this time. Also I need you to come back now. People are gonna crowd the store too much for it to be left without any rules.”

You look away. Decide. Look back at him. “Fine.”

Lives come and go. The obvious is ignored.

A lot of guns were pointed at a lot of people’s heads today. You’re unsure why the image of Eunhyuk stuck to the floor with a gun pointed to his forehead is stuck in your mind so much. It keeps rewinding— Reminding you that you were both helpless there, that you got lucky he even survived it all.

There’s so much blood everywhere.

Someone says your full name, with a tone much too casual to match what seemed to be politeness and with such ease that it can only be one person. He grabs your arms and tries to catch your gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Are you crazy?” you whisper, looking at him. He looks like a mess. “You almost got killed, Eunhyuk.”

“So did you. Don’t downplay it.” he argues. You expect his grip to loosen now that he’s seen you’re alright enough to talk but it only seems to tighten, “We have a few minutes to get it together before we have to go back to the usual. So be honest for once.”

Being honest…

You look at him, and your eyes are burning. “Fuck, Eunhyuk, I don’t know why I’m this scared.” you cough out, hands tensing at your sides.

He carries something gentler in his gaze, something you’re unfamiliar with. His hand drops to your wrist and he squeezes it. “Breathe.” he says, and you try, but it’s like you’re struggling to get the air in and out of your lungs. It’s burning, too. Why?… You’re panicking. That’s why. Your breaths come out short and that uneasiness who loves to get in the way of your thoughts is back. You can’t do anything, right now— you wouldn’t be able to get anyone to survive, let alone yourself.

Eunhyuk’s hand grabs your hastily and he brings it to his chest. “Slow down. Just breathe. That’s all that matters, right now.”

“Are you breathing?”

“I am. I need both of us to be. So listen to me.”

“Yeah.”

And just like a doctor would, he guides you to something calmer. Your gazes are locked the whole time. He insisted. Don’t look anywhere else, he said, just me. He helps you remember how to breathe again, helps you remember how to think, and helps you remember you have a lot to do immediately.

“We need to go.” you say, back to the closest thing to normal you could manage. “Hyunsu’s gone. Did anyone get shot? You should—”

“You should go grab the medkits. The ones in the nursery. Bring them here. I’ll take care of it.”

You don’t argue. “Okay.

Ah!” — But you nearly lose your footing. You hear Eunhyuk breathe out something that almost sounds like a laugh and turn around to glare.

“You’ll be lightheaded for a bit. Be careful.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.” you scoff. You hear Eunyu yell something along the lines of ‘It’ll be fine, so stop looking and get to work—‘ but you’re too far away to catch all of it.

The skies darken before the light comes back again. Things are eerily quiet.

When leadership becomes worthless, it’s hard to keep a proper sense of identity. Everyone has seen you and Eunhyuk as their leaders for a long while now. But since Jung Uimyeong’s arrival and the clear impact he’s had on the group’s dearest Cha Hyunsu, the atmosphere has suffered a drastic change. It feels tense for everyone but the newfound duo. It’s suffocating.

But instincts remain the same. Survival is key, and that means gathering information is, as well. You need to get what Uimyeong’s plan is before it escalates, but you know he would have no interest in talking to you.

So Hyunsu, it is.

“You don’t trust me.”

“But I do! I’ve always trusted you, Hyunsu.”

The latter keeps on walking and you have to jog to catch up. This is ridiculous, how could he allow a stranger to change him so much? Did he convince him the people here were the real enemy? You wouldn’t be surprised. Still…

“Just stop and have an actual conversation with me.” you scoff.

He does just that, stops in his tracks, and you nearly run into him. He turns around slowly to look at you. Hyunsu’s expression is usually devoid of emotion but now it’s just cold. “I don’t want to talk to you. Everything you say’s a lie. You don’t trust anyone here. I’ll say good luck to the people who still think you’re a good leader.”

“Isn’t that too much?” Eunhyuk. “Especially since you know it’s not true. Or were you influenced by that guy so easily?”

Hyunsu glances at him, then back at you, before directing his glare to Eunhyuk again. “Find someone else to run your errands. I’m tired of it.”

“That’s not—”

“Leave him be.” Eunhyuk says as Hyunsu walks away. You sigh and rub your temples. This isn’t good. “There’s no point in trying to reason with him now.”

“So what, we don’t do anything? Leave things as they are?”

“We do.”

You sigh and turn around to let your head drop on his shoulder. Eunhyuk brings his hand to the back of your head and leaves it there. You’re not sure how or why this change happened between the two of you after the shootout, but neither of you mention it. It might be for the best.

“I’m tired.” you mumble.

“You should get some rest.” he says quietly, “There isn’t much to take care of, right now. You should be able to sleep for a bit.”

“How long is a bit?”

“Until I wake you, approximately.”

“… Fine by me.”

The sun sets—

“Wake up.”

“Hmm…?” you force yourself to open your eyes and look up. God, the world’s blurry. “What?”

“Switch. I need to rest for a bit.”

You nod lazily and sit up on the bed, making space for him to sit. He settles at your side and turns to look at you. “Look here.” he says (demands) with a hand on your jaw. You turn and feel like he’s scrutinizing your face. “Any injuries?”

“Not anything new, no.” you say, “You?”

“The same.” he sighs, dropping his hand. It’s your turn to touch his face. You hold the side of it in your hand and let your thumb graze the skin under his eye. His glasses are good to hide his eyes, you think. But you’re always close enough to see them. After the shooting, you remember something, despite the state you were in.

“You cried.” you say. He hums inquisitively at that. “When those guys barged in and stuff. When you came back after going with them, you looked like you’d been crying.”

“Not really. I was just upset.”

“Because?”

“Is there not enough reasons to be upset in this place?” he deadpans, and scoffs silently when you give him a look. “I couldn’t save Ms. An. I watched her get shot.”

You have half a mind to hold back from squeezing his head to death. “And you didn’t think it worth mentioning? That’s bad, Eunhyuk.”

“I’ve… Seen worse.”

“That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

You look at him with wide eyes. “Take it back.”

“Or else?” he asks. Oh. Oh. He’s teasing you. What the hell? This is new. Your hand drops to grab his collar. You get deja-vu. Something similar happened before. He looks down at your hand then back up at you.

“You really want to find out, do you?”

There’s something in the air. Something you would’ve usually described as tension, but it almost feels comfortable. You know Eunhyuk well yet you can’t tell what’ll happen next. You could guess, though. Each word and touch means more now than it used to.

(Maybe they always meant something, maybe you just chose to ignore it.)

He stares at you for a few seconds then tilts his head to the side, expression unreadable. “I do.”

Your fingers tighten around his collar and he smiles. His hand comes up to wrap around your wrist, slowly pulling it away from him. “Hey…?”

“But I don’t think I’ll find out about anything. You’re a liar, after all. And a coward, just like me.” he says, all whilst gently pushing you to lay on the mattress. He does it so naturally it takes you a moment to realize. He hovers over you with your wrist still in hand. “Is that fine with you?”

“You insulting me or you pinning me down?”

“You decide.” he sighs, pressing your wrist down gently next to your head, “Would I be wrong to assume you don’t really mind either of those?”

You decide to shut him up instead. He takes it well.

“You taste a bit bloody.”

“Deal with it.”

#lee eunhyuk x reader #lee eun hyuk x reader #lee eunhyeok x reader #lee eun hyeok x reader #sweet home x reader #x reader

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