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steddie-as-they-come · 5 months

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blame it all on human nature - chapter two

ao3 link || part one

☆Saturday, March 29th, 1986☆

The next morning, Wayne drops him off back in Hawkins, informing him that he’s gonna try to find a job in the next town over.

“Call me when you can.” he says gruffly, which is weird because Eddie’s twenty and Wayne’s been letting him run around Hawkins like a wild child for long before that.

End of the world does strange things to everyone, Eddie supposes.

He straps his guitar over his shoulder and drapes his jacket over his arm. Wayne hesitates, then hugs him again. Eddie hugs back.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as Wayne drives away, turning to look up at the driveway to the Henderson house.

Eddie had driven Henderson home from Hellfire enough times to know where the kid’s bike was supposed to be when he was home. Dustin‘s bike is gone from its normal spot, leaning against the garage door.

He walks casually around the side of the house. Dustin’s neighbors are far enough away that no one will see him and call the cops like “Yes, hello? A zombie serial killer is walking up my neighbor’s driveway. I think he’s looking for his next victim!”

Turns out, he doesn’t need to worry about that.

The entire backside to the Henderson’s house is collapsed. Planks and crumbling drywall are scattered everywhere.

Eddie barrels into the wreckage. “Henderson!” he shouts. “Henderson, where are you?” He rips into a pile of bricks. “I swear to god if I saved you from bats and you got killed by debris, I’m gonna kick your ass!”

As he’s poking around more, he begins to notice something.

It seems…empty in here.

Now, Eddie’s never been in Dustin’s house, but he’s pretty sure Claudia Henderson doesn’t keep the phone lines or fridge unplugged, and there’s no signs of a frantic escape. There’s footprints in the dust that definitely don’t belong to Eddie. It’s like neither of them were in the house when it collapsed, but came back later to pack up their stuff and take care of the utilities.

Look at him. A regular Sherlock Holmes.

Eddie sighs and turns on his heel, exiting the house. He doesn’t know where anyone else lives. Besides Steve Harrington, of course. And I’m not about to walk up to the Harrington household and possibly face the wrath of the parents of the former King.

But Steve and Robin did still work at Family Video, right? He’d try there. And if he happened to run into any of his little sheepies on the way, all the better.

No such luck, unfortunately.

But he catches a glimpse of Steve and Robin, both looking bored as hell, slumped over at the counter in Family Video.

“Man, do you guys see people die so often that it’s just a boring day back at work two days later?” Eddie announces, swinging open the door.

“Holy shit!” Robin squawks, and Steve plants his hands and vaults the counter, landing squarely on his feet in Eddie’s path.

Eddie takes a surprised step back. “Chill, man. I’m not gonna hurt you-“

Steve wraps him up in a hug. It’s brief, but it’s nice. And awkward.

“Didn’t know we were that close, Harrington.” Eddie straightens his jacket, realizing that they’re the same clothes he almost died in and has been wearing for days. There’s not much worse they can get, honestly.

“No, it’s just -“ Steve rubs his neck, looking embarrassed. “Dustin’s gonna be so happy to see you.”

Robin appears at Steve’s side. “Eddie! I can’t believe it- how are you even alive!”

Eddie coughs. “My injuries weren’t as bad as everyone thought, apparently.” It’s weak and he knows it, but neither Steve nor Robin seem in any mood to argue the point. “Have you seen any of the kids? Can’t find ‘em at Dustin’s house, and that’s basically the only place I know where to look.”

Steve raises his hand halfheartedly. “Shitheads are all at my place. Turns out, a perk of having rich parents is that when the center of town blows up, our neighborhood is far enough out of the way to not be too affected.” He sneaks a look at the clock. “Hey, me and Rob are out of here in a couple hours, wanna stick around and we’ll drive you up there?”

Eddie shrugs and leans against the counter. “As long as you don’t mind a wanted man hanging around your shop.”

“Course not!” Robin socks him on the shoulder playfully. “You’re not wanted anymore, Munson, everyone thinks you’re dead. Matter of fact, neither of us want to deal with customers, so maybe you’ll scare them away.”

Eddie sticks his fingers up at the sides of his head like horns and flicks his tongue out. Steve chuckles. “That’d work on me.”

True to form, for the rest of the shift, as soon as a customer comes in (not often), Eddie just looks at them and they turn white and back out. Steve and Robin cackle harder, like twin hyenas, every time it happens.

Through the window, Eddie sees Jeff looking at him. Except, it’s not Jeff. He can tell by the blurry shape. He waves at Hawkins, offering them a cheeky smile.

“Who’re you waving at?” Robin asks, draping her whole entire body across the counter to see out the window.

Eddie jerks a thumb at Hawkins. “Jeff’s out there. Just sayin’ hi.”

“I don’t see him.” Steve says, standing up from where he was reorganizing the horror section. He casts a glance outside, directly at where Hawkins is standing. “Where?”

“He…must have walked off.” Eddie says slowly. He looks back at Hawkins, who grins and spreads their fingers…then vanishes .

It’s only through sheer self-control that Eddie doesn’t jump when Hawkins disappears and reappears, blinking in and out of existence.

They finally poof back into visibility, wiggling their fingers like they just did a magic trick, and Eddie understands. For reasons only known to Hawkins, Eddie is the chosen one, the only one able to see them.

They disappear for good in the time it takes Steve to get back around the counter, and Eddie pulls himself up to sit on top, turning his attention back to Robin and Steve.

In between customers, Steve tells Eddie how Dustin hijacked the computer to find him, with Robin jumping in to add her two cents every so often.

Steve slings his keys around his finger as the three of them pack up to leave. “Kids are ith me because I normally drive them to school anyway, and their parents are either busy with work or busy with moving out. Rob’s staying at mine too, since she really wants to finish out senior year and her parents left town. Joyce and Hopper are in town, but they’re in the cabin out in the woods, so there’s not enough room for Will and El. Nancy and Jonathan left town - separately - to get away from the whole…” He gestures out to the fire and general destruction.

Eddie nods solemnly, then blanches. “Wait, school’s still open? It’s the fuckin’ apocalypse out here!”

Steve laughs. “Yeah, man. Nothing short of the sun burning out is gonna close Hawkins High.”

“Ugh.” Eddie groans. “I was really hoping I’d be able to escape going to school after my near-death experience.”

“What happened to ‘eighty-six being your year?” Steve teases.

Eddie splays his hands, the chill of early spring nipping under his collar as they walk into the parking lot. “Faced the terrifying reality of death.” Met a god, he wants to add, but Hawkins can decide for themself whether to reveal what had really happened to Eddie down there.

“Now me personally,” Steve starts, watching Robin hurry ahead of them. “I’m more afraid of English homework than death.”

Eddie’s cut off from whatever he’s about to say by Robin rapping her knuckles against Steve’s car. “Dingus, open up!”

Steve clicks the button and the car unlocks, allowing Robin to slide in the passenger seat.

“I’ve got best friend privileges.” she brags as Eddie hops into the back.

Eddie wasn’t expecting anything else, but he plays along anyway. “Oh, I fought my way out of the Upside Down, came back from the dead, and entertained you both for two hours, and I still don’t get shotgun? This is frankly unfair, Stevie, and I deserve better.”

Steve snorts, pulling out of the parking lot. “Nice try, Munson, but I doubt even God could get Rob out of her rightfully earned best friend seat.”

Want me to find out? Eddie almost says, but clamps his mouth shut. Dammit, all this secret keeping is ruining his witty one-liners!

A heavy metal beat begins to pound through the speakers, and Eddie sits up. “Steve, I didn’t know you had actual taste in music!”

“Hardy har har, this is Mike’s.” Steve says, swiftly ejecting the tape. “Rob, put that in the glove compartment, please.”

“Yeah, I fought Dustin for this seat, by the way.” Robin tells Eddie, taking the tape from Steve, and Eddie forgets to be upset about the tape in favor of being impressed.

“You fought Dustin for the passenger seat? And won? ” he says. “Holy shit, Buckley.” Robin preens. “And Steve, does that mean I have a chance at Dusty-buns’ favor?”

“Not a chance in hell, Munson.” Steve smoothly avoids a giant pothole (sinkhole?) in the road and drives up his driveway. “Brace yourself, by the way, because if you’ve got any lingering injuries, they’re about to get very aggravated.”

As he hops out, Eddie surreptitiously pats his side where the bats gutted him like a fish. “All clear. I’m ready to face the armies.”

“This might honestly be scarier than the bats.” Robin says, following Steve up to the door.

“Hey, at least the kids don’t have rabies,” Eddie jokes.

Steve shrugs. “Eh, jury’s still out on Mike.” He unlocks the door and shoves it open. “Shitheads, we’re home!”

“We’ve got a guest!” Robin adds.

No response, except for a scattered grumble of acknowledgement coming from down the hall - the living room, if Eddie’s hazy memories of Harrington parties are to be trusted. Steve makes to storm in that direction, but Eddie catches his arm, stopping him.

He cups his hands over his mouth. “HEY HELLFIRE!”

A moment of heart-stopping, agonizing silence.

Eddie grins.

Predictably, the first one to reach them is Dustin. He stops and stares, then flings himself at Eddie, sobbing. Eddie catches him, smoothly lowering them both to the ground.

Lucas follows just after, and then Mike, the two of them collapsing into the growing pile of Hellfire members. Dustin’s crying, Mike’s silently just staring at him, and Lucas is excitedly babbling, asking four million questions a minute. Eddie can see two more kids in the back, looking sort of awkward. One of them he recognizes as Will Byers, but he doesn’t know the other one, a brown-haired girl.

Eddie lets the Hellfire kids sit there for a little bit, trying to hold back his own tears.

He struggles to his feet (Dustin is absolutely refusing to let go), and makes his way to the two he doesn’t know as well.

“Hey, I’m Eddie.” he says, wrenching his arm out from where it’s sandwiched between him and Dustin so he can offer it to the two to shake. “Heard you like D&D.” he directs at Little Byers, who nods. “Love to play with you sometime.”

A wide grin spreads across the kid’s face, and he shakes Eddie’s hand, but not before casting an apprehensive glance at Dustin, who’s clinging like a barnacle to his side.

“And you are…?” He wouldn’t be very surprised if she says she’s another Byers. She looks just like Will.

She shakes his hand with a very firm grip. “I am El. You are the long-haired man I saw.”

“You…saw?” Eddie starts to say, before remembering the stories Dustin had told him. “Oh, so you’re Supergirl. Nice to meet you, then.”

Dustin finally loosens his grip, and Eddie’s able to pry the little octopus off of him. “Hey, I’m alright. You hear me?” He’s talking to Dustin, mostly, but he looks at Lucas and Mike as he talks too. “Not a scratch on me.”

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have phrased it that way. Dustin’s tears dry practically instantly as his Science Brain takes over. “What, no way. Look at your shirt!”

Eddie backpedals fast. “What I mean is, not any injuries that you don’t already know about.” he says, a crooked smile crossing his face. Coward, his mind hisses at him. You can’t even tell them the truth .

“Do you need your bandages changed, Munson?” Steve butts in, all business. “We’ve all got practice, if you need help. Matter of fact, do you even have bandages on?”

Eddie’s always been halfway decent at lying through his teeth. “Yeah, I have some. Wayne fixed me up. I’ll change ‘em later.”

“Wayne?” Dustin speaks up again. “You found him?”

“Sure did.” Eddie tugs down the collar of his shirt, revealing the guitar pick necklace nestled into his collarbones. “Thanks for getting this to him. Much as I don’t appreciate your grave robbing, I know this meant a lot to him.”

Dustin’s tears are threatening to spill over again, and he nods.

“Speaking of…” Eddie looks back to Steve. “Mind showing me where the phone is? Should probably tell Wayne I’m staying here.”

Mike tries to hide it, but Eddie sees the smile and surprise cross his face. “You’re staying?”

“Sure am! Jesus, this place is probably the safest in Hawkins at the moment.” Eddie says.

The kids all disperse, but not before the Hellfire kids crowd in to give Eddie one last hug. Then they all run upstairs, sharing excited looks.

“Wreak havoc, sheepies!” Eddie calls after them, ignoring the chuckle from Robin and the dirty look from Steve.

He brings Eddie into the kitchen. “Phone’s there. Listen for clicks, Dustin has a habit of using the other lines to listen in.”

“Thanks, Harrington.” Eddie picks up the phone, dialing for the operator.

After a couple redirects, he gets the extension for the hotel room Wayne’s in.

“Hey, Wayne.” he says into the phone. “I think I’m gonna stay in Hawkins, if that’s alright?”

“Where?” Wayne grunts over the line. “Not gonna stay in that husk of a trailer, right?”

“No, I’m - uh - I’m at the Harrington place.”

“Why? ‘S there a party goin’ on or something?”

Outside the kitchen, Steve tosses Dustin bodily onto the couch, both of them shrieking with laughter. Steve walks into the kitchen and goes quiet at the sight of Eddie on the phone.

“No, no, the Hellfire kids are all here. Steve’s bringing them to school, and the house is intact.”

Wayne sighs. “I just don’t know how comfortable I am with you staying there, son. I’ve heard your stories about that boy, and if you need me to pick you up, just let me know.”

“No, Wayne, I’m serious. Steve’s a good guy. Well, now, at least.” he laughs. Steve, across the kitchen, blushes, fumbling with the cup of tap water he was filling. Eddie stifles a laugh, then a devilish grin spreads across his face. “You can talk to him if you’d like.” he says, and crosses the room, letting the curlique cord trail behind him.

“No, no, no-“ Steve mouths, right up until Eddie presses the receiver against his ear. “Hello, Mr. Munson,” he says politely, changing tones so fast Eddie gets whiplash. “Yes, I’m Steve Harrington.”

There’s a pause. “Yes, sir, I’ll make sure.” Another pause. “Of course, si- Wayne, sorry.” He chuckles politely. “Yes.”

He hands the receiver back to Eddie, and takes a sip of water from his glass. Eddie would tease him for drinking lukewarm water if there weren’t so many other things to tease him about just from that one conversation.

“Okay, you’re right. Nice kid,” Wayne says when Eddie holds the phone back up to his ear. “I'll try to look for some place to live out here, and you just focus on school, alright? I’ll be back for your ceremony.” He laughs. “Eighty-six, right, kid?”

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, Wayne. Eighty-six.”

He says goodbye and sets the phone on the holder.

“I like your uncle.” Steve says conversationally.

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. “Yeah? What was that? Do you always turn into a weird little robot boy whenever you talk to an adult?” He makes his eyes big and watery and fixes his hair into a sad imitation of Steve’s signature swoop. “Yes, of course, sir .” He fake gags. “I can’t believe you willingly called an adult ‘sir’. And that it was my uncle !”

Steve laughs. “I had to get rid of my King Steve reputation really quick whenever Dustin or any of the kids wanted to stay over. Word of advice: best way to do that is buttering up their moms.”

Eddie looks exaggeratedly down at himself, then back up at Steve. “Think it’s a bit late for that at this point, Stevie.”

Steve puts his hand on his hip and cocks his head, considering. “No, not really.” He holds both hands in front of him, framing him with his pointer and thumb. “Pin back that hair, get you out of that jacket, maybe put you in one of my polos-“

“Absolutely not!” Eddie dodges around Steve and escapes the kitchen, ignoring the roar of laughter from behind him. “Buckley! Henderson! Help me!”

He skids into the sitting room (yikes, the Harringtons have a sitting room and a living room?), panting.

Robin and Dustin look up from their game of War. Dustin is losing, badly. “What’s wrong, Eddie?” he asks.

“Steve wants to put me in,“ he shudders. “- polo shirts .”

Dustin looks appropriately appalled. “No!”

Robin sets down her pile of cards. “I can see it.” she hums, pursing her lips and tapping a finger against them.

Eddie gapes at her, scandalized. “I cannot believe you, Buckley. I thought our senior class connection was special .”

“That’s right.” someone says from the doorway, and Eddie whips around to find Steve leaning against the doorframe casually. “Rob’s always got my back.”

Robin blows a kiss to Steve, and Steve rolls his eyes, but fake-catches it and shoves it into his jeans pocket.

Dustin makes a disgusted sound. “You two need to get together already.”

“We’re-“ they start to say together, and Dustin joins in.

“Platonic with a capital P, I know.” he groans, and Eddie gets the sense this is a well-used argument. “But you guys are actually perfect for each other, why don’t you see it??”

Steve and Robin just sorta look at each other. Eddie isn’t privy to their best friend telepathy, but if he had to guess, he’d say Steve might be lacking in the, we’ll say, chest department when it comes to things Robin likes.

They break eye contact after a couple seconds, and Steve says, “Anyway, I was mostly teasing, Munson. I think if I tried to put you in a color other than blood red or black you’d pass out.”

“Anything for the aesthetic.” Eddie agrees amicably. “However, you’re gonna have to test that theory. I was hoping you’d have something I could borrow to sleep in. Really don’t need to sleep in the clothes I almost died in.” he jokes.

Dustin full-body flinches , and the few cards he has remaining in his hand scatter everywhere. “Sorry, sorry.” he says quickly, scooping them back up.

Eddie locks eyes with Steve and quickly makes a mental note: no death jokes in front of Dustin.

“I think I should have something.” Steve says. “Come on, let’s go check.”

Eddie follows Steve out of the room and up the stairs. “Am I gonna get to see your private quarters, King Steve?” he says, leaning into Steve’s space.

Steve shoves him away. “Cool it. Robin laughed for a solid fifteen minutes when she first saw it, so I bet your reaction’s gonna be worse, since Robin actually likes me.”

Eddie’s a little hurt - what makes Steve think he doesn’t like him? - but he supposes that’s fair. They did basically meet last week, after all, and it has been a really crazy week, but still only a week.

Eddie cannot wait to see what this fabled room looks like.

Steve stops in front of a plain white door. “Please remember I didn’t decorate this myself.”

He opens the door.

The wallpaper is plaid.

There are other things in the room, of course, but Eddie can’t stop staring at the fucking plaid wallpaper.

He starts to chuckle.

“Here we go,” Steve mutters next to him, crossing the room to his closet and opening the doors. “Hey, Giggles, come grab stuff you need.” He starts tossing clothes onto the bed, and Eddie sits down heavily next to the growing pile, still staring in a mixture of awe and agony at the plaid wallpaper.

“Sorry about the small selection, Rob insists that her parents took most of her clothes with them so she just steals mine.” Steve turns back to see Eddie still staring at the wall. “Come on, snap out of it!” He waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face.

“How the fuck did you get laid in here?” Eddie cackles, finally tearing his eyes away from Steve’s horrific wallpaper and looking through the clothes sitting next to him, still laughing under his breath.

“It was the hair, probably.” Steve says, running a hand through it.

“Well, I know that’s not true.” Eddie says, grabbing a Hawkins High Basketball Team shirt he deems marginally acceptable.

Steve actually looks hurt. “Wait, why?”

“‘Cause you’d still be getting dates, that’s why. Unless you’re secretly going steady with Buckley and forgot to mention it?”

“No, absolutely not. We’re-”

“Yeah, platonic with a capital P, I heard downstairs. So something else caused the King’s fall from grace.”

Steve gives him a strange look. “Let’s see here. My friends consist of six middle-schoolers, an elementary schooler, a band geek, my ex-girlfriend, the guy she cheated on me with, and-“ he waves a hand at Eddie. “-a drug dealer that’s now presumed dead. I’d say if King Steve could see me now, he’d try to deck me.”

“And I have no doubt you’d hit back twice as hard with your ax.”

Steve coughs. “Bat, actually.”

“Come again?”

“I accidentally left her in my car before we went out to the lake- you haven’t met her. Hold on!”

He’s out the door and down the stairs before Eddie can get the chance to ask who “her” is.

“Where are you going, dingus??” he hears Robin scream. He can’t hear Steve’s muffled response, but Robin yells “ He hasn’t?” and Dustin yells “ What??”

What is Steve doing?

“Munson!” Steve barks from downstairs, and Eddie stands up and leaves the room. Will, Mike, and Lucas’s heads poke out curiously from a random room down the hall, and Eddie gives them a little wave, descending the stairs.

“This was the bat I used when I first fought the demogorgons,” Steve says proudly, holding out a bat with, no lie, motherfuckin’ nails hammered into it. And listen, okay, Eddie’s used to Steve looking like a proud parent, but this is a little excessive. He looks like he birthed that thing.

On second thought, that would probably hurt.

…He’s going to stop thinking about this now.

“Metal, dude.” Eddie whispers, looking closely at it. He feels like he’s in the presence of an heirloom, something important. If this was in a D&D game, he’d ask his players to roll a perception check, to find anything strange or magic about it.

It seems to be a normal bat, no magic required, but Eddie can see where the grip of Steve’s fingers have worn grooves into the handle, and how comfortable he is holding it, like it’s an extension of him.

If Eddie thought Steve was deadly before, with only his bare hands or a stolen ax, he would have loved to see Steve with this thing.

“It’s Steve’s baby .” Dustin coos from the corner, and Eddie’s snapped out of his reverent thoughts. “He keeps it in his car.”

“I never speed anymore,” Steve informs them all, cradling it like a child. “If an officer of the law opened my trunk, they’d find her and like three guns, not to mention the products of that time Max went crazy and stole all her mom’s alcohol to make Molotovs.”

Robin laughs. “To be fair, a cop would probably think they’re just alcohol bottles.”

“Still, I’m nineteen.” Steve says. “I’m not supposed to have either Molotovs or beer in my car.” He moves back towards the door. “I’ll go put her away. Go look for more stuff.” he tells Eddie.

Eddie obliges, wincing when he has to see the plaid wallpaper in Steve’s room again. “Jesus, I need to wash my eyes out after this,” he mumbles.

“I don’t have to give you clean clothes.” Steve says, shutting the door behind him as he walks in, now nail bat-free.

Eddie immediately begins rummaging through the pile on Steve’s bed. “Message received, loud and clear.”

His fingers brush against something.

“Ooh, what’s this, Harrington?” Eddie coos, pulling a blue shirt from the pile.

Steve turns around, and his face goes pale. “Nothing, give me that.” He makes a lunge for it, but Eddie pulls it out of reach.

“Is this a uniform from our very own, formerly beloved ice cream parlor Scoops Ahoy?” Eddie says, reverently running a hand over the collar. “Steve, did you work there?”

Steve, still trying to snatch it from Eddie, says, “Yeah, it’s where I met Robin. Gimme!”

Eddie holds it up in front of him, trying to picture Steve in the starched white collar and little blue shorts. It’s…an interesting picture, to say the least. “This needs to be cherished, Harrington. I’m discovering new things about you.”

His thumb runs over a suspiciously rust-red stain, like a mini version of the one coating his own Hellfire shirt. “Uh, Steve, please tell me this is ice cream.”

Steve almost manages to catch the tail of the shirt. “No, it's my blood from when Rob and I were drugged and interrogated by the secret Russian base under Starcourt Mall.”

Eddie’s so stunned by that comment that Steve seizes the shirt and pulls it away, hanging it back up in his closet. “Wait, seriously?” he says, because Steve has to be joking, right?

Then again, Eddie almost died in a parallel hell dimension on Friday, so it’s not the craziest thing that’s happened recently.

“Yeah, man.” Steve says, sorting through the pile to find the offending Scoops shorts and hanging those up as well. “Starcourt blew up for a reason. Me, Rob, Dustin, and Erica deciphered a secret Russian transmission and found a base under the mall, they thought we were spies or something, they drugged us to make us tell the truth, hit us a couple times, you know the drill.”

Eddie stares at him in horror. “I thought I was the fucked up one of the group.”

Steve laughs, passing Eddie a T-shirt. “You got attacked by monsters you had never heard of until last Tuesday, you were the subject of a manhunt, you almost died, and now you’re back through some miracle I refuse to question. We’re all fucked up, Munson.” He spreads his arms. “Welcome to the dysfunctional family!”

Eddie cringes at a bright blue polo, pushing it back into the pile. “Can you guys like, disown me or something? I don’t know if I want to be part of this.”

“Too late. Trust me, Dustin basically kidnapped me into it.”

Eddie pulls the ten items of clothing he had deemed non-offensive to his style into his arms. “And you kidnapped Robin into it?”

“Nope, she bullied her way in.” Steve says, folding and returning the rest of his clothes to his closet. “She kinda does what she wants.”

“I can see that.” Eddie squints at something in the back of Steve’s dim closet. “Wait, hold on-”

He drops the pile of clothes on Steve’s desk chair and squeezes around Steve to get at the familiar object of clothing. “This is mine!” He tugs his very own battle vest out of the back of Steve’s closet.

Steve turns fire-engine red. “You left it on the floor of the RV,” he says. “I didn’t know what to do with it, so I kept it.”

Eddie adds it back to his own pile of clothes. “I’m glad it survived,” he admits. “ By the way, where am I sleeping?”

“Let’s see.” Steve taps his finger to his chin. “Rob’s sharing with El and Erica, the boys insisted on being put together, there’s my room-”

“I don’t mind sharing with you, big boy,” Eddie smirks, feeling a vindictive pleasure as a pretty pink blush covers Steve’s face.

“Alright, then?” Steve says, and Eddie pulls back, raising his eyebrows. He had not expected that to go anywhere. “As long as you don’t mind, I could set something up on the floor for you.”

“That sounds fine, as long as this wallpaper doesn’t give me nightmares.” Eddie says, laughing when Steve rolls his eyes. “Thanks, man.” He follows him out of the room.

“Dingbats, come help with dinner!” Steve yells, walking towards the stairs.

There’s an affirmative response from Robin and Dustin downstairs, but complete silence from the other four Eddie knows are up here.

Steve gives him a look. “Shitheads, where are you?” he yells again.

There’s a muffled commotion from down the hall. Eddie and Steve look at each other, and Eddie jerks a thumb at the room he saw the kids in earlier.

Steve says, in a low tone, “That’s the bathroom. The hell are they doing in there?”

Eddie knows at least Mike and Lucas are little nerds, and probably aren’t getting up to the shit he got up to behind closed doors when he was their age, but he still follows softly behind Steve.

“Guys?” Steve knocks on the door. “Are you in there?”

There’s a splash of water, and an aborted yelp Eddie recognizes as Lucas.

Steve taps again. “I’m coming in if none of you respond to me.” he warns, and Jesus Christ, Eddie’s sure he’s heard those exact words exit Wayne’s mouth before.

Dustin and Robin are obviously wondering what’s taking so long, and Eddie half-turns as he hears them come up the stairs. He notices a quickly-hidden expression of panic cross Dustin’s face.

Steve tries the knob. “I cannot believe you. Unlock the door.”

There’s a muted click, and Steve swings the door open.

Four kids shuffle out. Mike’s got a sneer affixed on his face, Will has his head bowed, Lucas looks sheepish (and has water down his front), and El is absolutely soaked. She’s in a t-shirt that looks like a dress on her, and there’s a bandana tied around her head.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Explain. Lucas, go.”

“We were trying to wake up Max.” Lucas says sheepishly. “We had El in the bathtub so she could do her sensory deprivation thing.”

Steve purses his lips. “I know Hopper told you guys - especially you, El - not to do that. It could really hurt her.”

They all nod. Mike speaks up. “But if Eddie came back, maybe Max did too!” he protests.

Steve holds up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it, okay? Mike, Will, you guys get to set the table. El, Lucas, go change, you’re helping me cook. We’ll be talking about this later.” He sighs. “Dustin, I was gonna put you on dishes duty, but as you’re the only kid who didn’t go behind my back, you don’t have to. I can do them myself.”

Four heads snap up in quick succession to glare at Dustin, and he winces. “I was…the distraction. For you, Eddie, and Robin.”

Steve throws up his hands. “Unbelievable. Okay, you’re back on dishes. Go. Get moving.”

Mike and Dustin grumble as they head downstairs, and Will scurries past them with an apologetic look. Lucas and El head into separate rooms to get changed.

Dinner is spaghetti, and it’s really good, because not only is Steve a badass bat-killing machine, nail bat wielder, and a damn good babysitter, he’s also a cook?

Dustin clears, washing dishes and grumbling under his breath. Steve manages to wrangle them all to agree to at least stay in their rooms for the rest of the night, though, judging by the various creaks Eddie hears as soon as he and Steve walk into Steve’s room, it doesn’t work.

Steve sets up a little nest of blankets and pillows on the floor for Eddie. “Here, man. Sorry about the mess.”

Eddie shrugs off his jacket. “It’s fine. I’ve slept in worse.” He toes off his boots and slings the borrowed clothes over his arm.

“Yeah, I’ve seen your mattress.” Steve turns his back and begins to shuck his shirt. Eddie hastily spins around. Damn jocks and their locker room tendencies.

He feels slightly awkward changing in a room with King Steve (no, not King Steve anymore, the bat made that very clear), but he does it as fast as possible, collapsing back into the little pile of blankets.

Steve flicks off the light. “Night, Munson.”

Eddie tugs a blanket up from near his feet. “Night, Harrington.”

☆Monday, March 31st, 1986☆

The ride to school Monday morning is crowded. Steve’s driving, Robin’s doing her makeup in the front seat, and Eddie’s shoved in the back with El. Will, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas opted to ride their bikes to school that morning, and Steve’s got one hand on his walkie-talkie, waiting for the “Arrived safely,” message from Dustin.

Steve pulls up to the school and hops out. “Alright, I’ll see you guys later.” he says. “Have fun, El!”

El grins at him and climbs out, going to wait by the front doors for the boys to arrive. “We need to get her a bike too.” Steve mumbles, watching her run off.

“Steve Harrington?” someone calls from across the parking lot, and they all turn. A couple of adults are walking towards them, toting overnight bags.

“Mr. Sinclair, Mrs. Sinclair!” Steve says. “I’m glad to see you’re both safe!” He takes the bags from them and pushes them into his backseat.

Mr. Sinclair takes his hand and shakes it. “Thank you so much, son. Means a lot that you’re willing to take Lucas and Erica in while we look for a new place.”

“It’s my pleasure, sir,” Steve says. “I’m glad I’m able to offer somewhere safe.”

Eddie’s piecing things together. The Sinclairs must have had Erica for the remainder of spring break, and now Steve’s taking her in so she can still go to school here.

“And who are you?” Mrs. Sinclair says, turning to Eddie and Robin. “Is this your girlfriend, Steve?”

Steve smiles politely. “No, ma’am. Robin and Eddie are two of my best friends. They’re both staying at mine as well to stay safe and finish out their senior year.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mr. Sinclair says.

Mrs. Sinclair looks closer at him. “Eddie…Have I seen you somewhere before?”

Eddie shrugs. “I’m not sure.” He doesn’t want to bring up the Wanted posters, since who knows if Lucas and Erica would be able to stay at Steve’s if the Sinclairs recognize him from there.

Mr. Sinclair’s face lights up. “Oh, honey, he’s from-” The three of them inhale, and Steve takes a subtle step towards Eddie. “-that club Lucas is part of! I’m not sure of the name, but the boys were all part of it and Erica joined last week.”

Eddie exhales, and smiles genuinely. “Yeah, that’s the Dungeons and Dragons club. I help run it. Lucas is a great kid, and Erica’s a little young to be anything more than a substitute player, but we’ll be honored to have her when she’s older.”

“Good to meet you, Eddie.” Mr. Sinclair says, shaking his hand.

“Again, this is a great help to all of us.” Mrs. Sinclair says. “Steve, if there’s anything, anything at all you need, let us know, okay, hon? We’re driving up to Indy today, but we’ll be back if you need us.”

“Sure thing!” Steve says, all American apple pie and innocence. Eddie would have never believed this was the same guy who hosted parties every weekend in high school, or the guy who fought off a bat with his bare hands last week.

The Sinclairs say goodbye, and Steve spins around to face Eddie and Robin with his hands planted on his hips. “You are both going to be late for first period.” he says, and oh, would you look at that, Momma Bird Steve is back. “Inside.”

Robin slings her backpack over her shoulder. “Bye, Steve. C’mon, Eddie. I wanna see the looks on everyone’s faces when you walk back in.”

Eddie grabs his backpack and his lunchbox. It feels lighter than usual, since he doesn’t have his normal “supplies” in there. He probably won’t be able to get any more, either, since Rick’s boathouse was in the line of destruction caused by Vecna’s portals.

He can’t count how many double takes he gets as he follows Robin through the doors. Eddie’s not sure how fast the news had spread that he died, but he assumes it must not’ve taken very long, because he’s getting weird looks from everyone .

Dustin had told him that his name had been cleared posthumously, but it took everyone basically leaving him alone all morning for him to believe it.

He shuffles his way through the morning, keeping his head down and away from the jocks.

Gareth screams when Eddie walks into the lunchroom. Suddenly, for the second time in twenty-four hours, Eddie’s being tackled under a pile of Hellfire members.

“Guys, guys, I missed you too!” he says into Grant’s chest. “You should’ve known nothing could keep me down for very long.”

Gareth, Jeff, and Grant have their arms around him. “We couldn’t believe it when we heard the news.” Grant says. “We were sure you were gonna pop back up right after, but you didn’t.”

“Yes I did,” Eddie scoffs. “I’m fine!”

They all detangle themselves, Gareth flipping off the people watching and laughing behind their hands.

Over Jeff’s shoulder, Eddie spots a familiar set of faces walk into the lunchroom.

“Sheepies!” he shouts, slinging a leg over his seat at the lunch table and welcoming them all to sit down. Besides the typical crew of Mike, Dustin, and Lucas, Will and El are accompanying them, looking a bit nervous. Will more than El, of course.

“Hey!” Dustin says, high-fiving Eddie. They all crowd into the table.

Jeff looks at them all weird. “You’re not even surprised he’s back?” he says.

Dustin shrugs. “He’s staying with us at Steve’s place.”

Wrong thing to say. Gareth’s face goes steely. “ Harrington ?”

Eddie holds up his hands. “He offered, and his house is out of the way of the destruction, and he’s got all of them!” He waves a hand at the kids. El waves back at him.

“What about the Munson Doctrine, Eddie?” Gareth asks, and Eddie sighs.

“Listen, Steve Harrington is…actually a cool dude. I can’t tell you why - like, legally, I'm pretty sure-“ A quick look at all the kids nodding confirms it. “But I'm not in danger, and I’m not staying there against my will.”

Gareth crosses his arms. “If you say so.”

Eddie looks him directly in the eyes. “I do.”

And it’s probably because Eddie has never been so sincere in his life that Gareth believes him.

They finish out the day and load into Steve’s car to go visit Max at the hospital, stopping at the elementary school to pick up Erica.

“I want you all to listen to me.” Steve tells them all, right before they go inside. “We’re going in, two at a time, and we’re gonna say hi and talk to her a bit. I talked to Max’s mom, and she…well, she’s not in Hawkins anymore.”

Eddie doesn’t know Max’s mom, but given the unsurprised expressions on most of the kids’ faces, he can gather that she wasn’t the nicest of people. He also had been on the receiving end of some of Billy’s…everything, and can figure that maybe the environment Max was raised in wasn’t the happiest.

“So she put Hopper and Joyce in charge of Max, and they told me some stuff. First, El, no powers, remember? She’s delicate. Try to talk quietly, Dustin, Erica. The doctors don’t know if she can hear us, and they don’t know how sensitive her ears are. Pick a buddy, guys, we’ll go in together.”

Will and El link arms like they’ve got twin telepathy, not even needing to think about it. Robin leans against Steve, who hooks an arm around her shoulder.

Eddie looks down to find Dustin next to him. He ruffles the kid’s hair and drags him closer.

Mike and Erica both head in Lucas’s direction, but Eddie notices the tear streaks on his face and heads off Mike, making eye contact with Steve, who’s shepherding Erica gently away too. They push the two of them together, which neither of them look too happy about. Lucas ends up alone, which is probably better for him anyway.

Steve bends down and whispers something to Lucas, and he nods. A nurse shows up to lead them to her room.

Eddie and Dustin enter first.

Eddie doesn’t like it in here. It feels like he’s being watched.

Then the nurse pokes her head back around the corner, edges of her shape now slightly blurred. Her eyes are reflecting eerily like an animal’s, and Eddie realizes he is being watched.

He waves subtly at Hawkins, who waves back.

“Hey, Mad Max,” Dustin says quietly. “I hope you wake up soon. Steve says he’ll take us to the arcade and pay for the whole trip if you wake up.” Judging from the look Dustin shoots at him, Eddie thinks Steve probably didn’t say that, but he has no doubt that he absolutely would if Max does wake up.

“I miss you.” Dustin says. “Don’t tell Mike, but you were always the coolest one of all of us.”

Eddie didn’t know Max well enough, but he can imagine her rolling her eyes, saying Of course I am.

He thinks he’d really like to truly get to know her.

Her hand lays motionless on the bedsheets.

Dustin steps back, letting Eddie walk forward.

“Hey, Little Red.” he says. His mouth is dry. “Not fair, what happened.”

Not fair , he means, that he made the sacrifice play and yet is walking around fine. Not fair, that Max is a kid who was targeted by a monster. Not fair, that there’s a god outside the door who can’t help her.

“I think you should get up soon, though,” he says. “Makin’ the party very worried. And you should see Steve!” he whistles incredulously under his breath. “His momma bear mode is overactivated, since you’re not where he can keep an eye on you. Better get home quick, kid.”

They step back, Dustin patting her hand gently one last time, and walk back to the waiting room.

Will and El go next, and Eddie and Dustin take their seats in the waiting room. Steve’s leg is bouncing, and his hand is in Robin’s, and he’s next to Lucas, eyeing him like he’s afraid the kid is gonna snap.

After a couple minutes, the Wonder Twins reappear, El now sporting tear tracks on her face. Mike and Erica go in, but take half the time to talk to Max as everyone else did.

Steve motions Eddie over to his chair and swaps spots with him, leaving with Robin to visit Max. Eddie takes Steve’s seat next to Lucas, resting his arm on the armrest in between them as a silent invitation to talk if he needs it.

Lucas doesn’t take him up on it, but he relaxes a fraction, still wiping at his face.

Steve and Robin come back out, supporting each other, and it’s finally Lucas’s turn.

He goes solo into her room.

Steve and Robin sit down on either side of him, Steve taking Lucas’s seat. He blows out air, resting his face in his hands.

“Max’s mom offered me custody of her.” he murmurs, too low for anyone but Eddie to hear.

Eddie doesn’t think he heard him right. “What?”

He nods. “I came to visit yesterday morning. I wanted to apologize to Max, and see if there was anything Susan - Mrs. Hargrove - needed.” He places the heels of his palms over his eyes. “Turns out, what she needed was for someone to take her daughter off her hands.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie doesn’t even know what to say. “What did you do?”

“Called Joyce - Mrs. Byers.” He balls his fists into his perfect hair, and Eddie’s struck by how tired Steve looks. “I would’ve, but…I’m nineteen. Babysitting Max, or having her stay in my house with everyone else to stay safe, those are fine, but full custody? No judge would’ve sprung for that, not even with every Party parent backing me up.”

“So…what’s gonna happen now?”

Steve shrugs. “Joyce and Hopper have emergency custody, because she would have become a ward of the state otherwise, but that doesn’t matter much since Max is in the hospital. And…I want Max to live with me. I want her to feel safe.” He chuckles sadly. “I could definitely be a better big brother than Billy.”

“Pretty sure the bar for that one is low.” Eddie offers.

“Yeah, it’s practically in hell.” He sighs again, looking up at the door leading to Max. “I should go get Lucas.”

Robin lunges across Eddie to grab Steve’s arm. “Don’t you dare.”

Eddie blanches - was she listening to them? - then remembers there’s not a damn thing in this world that Steve would tell him that he wouldn’t tell Robin first.

“He needs time,” Robin hisses. “You interrupting him will make him pull more stunts like last night, behind your back.”

“But-“

Robin, still draped across Eddie, clutches Steve’s wrist so hard her knuckles turn white. “Steve Harrington, you’re going to sit here and wait until Lucas is done, or so help me-“

Steve glares at Robin, but she glares right back.

He finally slumps back against the scratchy hospital waiting room chair, and Robin releases him, with a quick apology to Eddie.

It takes twenty minutes for Lucas to come back out.

But he does, and his tears are drying on his face, and he holds himself differently. Stronger.

Eddie is so damn proud of him.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #living hawkins au #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction

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thatoneguy031 · 3 months

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We made it back to the boat... But things are still super-wrong! YAY.

After hauling Blair onto the deck or whatever, the first thing I see is a Team Plasma grunt, with one of Guy's swords inside their shirt, keeping them in place. Meanwhile, he's trying to fight another one, because it's not like we needed anything else to deal with... Although, it was pretty funny watching him try to get around with a broken leg. Terrifying, but funny. I'll take him to a Pokecenter later.

And that aura thing? I almost passed out when I got there, because it was so thick and... I'm tellin' you, you had to be there to feel it yourself. We took care of one problem, just for it to be replaced by something else entirely!

I could've sworn I heard him say something like, "...FROST. WHERE'S FROST?!" What the hell is his deal with that dude? It's not like we can't just find his ball and release him later.

...He does know that, right?

Anyways, Blair was immediately on it. He sent out his Serperior like last time we battled together, and told her to use...

Taunt?! I shit you not, he said, "⯎Serperior, use Taunt to get Midorotta off that Team Plasma grunt, and then use Mean Look!"

What the- Is he TRYING to kill us?! This dude is CLEARLY going feral right now, and you're gonna tell him to direct that anger towards US?!

As much as I signaled for her not to do that, Serperior used Taunt, and Guy immediately looked our way. As soon as he looked at us, it were like we couldn't do anything. I couldn't help but back away a bit. And from what I saw, Blair and that Mimikyu were scared too, and I'm pretty sure that Mimikyu actually passed out, I felt her body fall off my back. Why...?

Hell, the only dude that wasn't stuck in... whatever that was, was Serperior. What made this worse? Guy was now charging towards us, sword out and everything.

Thank Arceus and everything He considered holy, Blair managed to shake himself out of it. But it wasn't like he did anything. Guy got closer, I was helpless to do anything about it, Serperior was doing nothing... Why was I so scared? It wasn't like I didn't know I could fight him. I knew I could. I did...

And then, for some reason, right as Guy leaped up to probably chop Serperior into a salad, Blair smiled.

"⯎Serperior, Glare, NOW!"

A light from her eyes, and then Guy fell to the ground. He closed his eyes for a second... and it was like I had a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. Blair told Serperior to use Wrap, and then he was stuck because she had coiled her body around him. All four of his limbs were stuck too, so surely he wouldn't be able to attack, right?

No. He still can, because of course. Guy threw his head back, using... I couldn't even tell you. I just know it was dark-type. Either way, he basically reverse-headbutted Serperior, and her grip on him was becoming loose...

Blair caught this, and took out another Poke Ball. Out came a Musharna, and it was like they already knew what to do.

"⯎Alright, Musharna! Use Yawn! And Serperior, tighten your Wrap attack to make sure he really can't leave!"

And he did exactly what he was told... And so did Guy. We all watched as his attacks and attempts to escape got weaker... And weaker...

...Until FINALLY. With one last bite at Serperior's body, Guy finally fell asleep. A cloud of some kind of smoke appeared, just like the time he was freaking out a few months ago, and when it disappeared, all the stuff on his shells was gone, even his swords. But he still had the red swirls, although they were back to the way they before.

...Hah hah...! Ha! We're good now... mostly.

Blair lifted Guy out of Serperior's grasp, carrying him like he was a baby or something. "⯎Shhh... It'll all be alright... Poor dude's really been through it... He's still trembling. What happened to him?"

Hell if I knew. All of today's been a blur for me. I looked around, and it looked like Plasma already dipped. Cowards.

"⯎You guys'll have to stay with me for the time being, so y'all can recover. You're all battered and bruised, and- Wait, where's the Suicune? Did something happen to them?"

I caught something moving a ways away, and I saw an Ultra Ball rolling towards us. And out came a flash of light, and then... Frost. Fine as ever. They're on the ground, they looked a bit dizzy, but... they're fine.

"⯎There you are! ...I do want you to know that everything's.. fine, now. Look. For the time being, I do feel like I should stay with you all. At least until you're all get better."

He sat down on the deck, still holding the DAMN-NEAR-300-POUND SAMUROTT in his arms, IN A BLIZZARD, ON A BOAT IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, and his Pokemon sat at his side, with the most serious look I've seen on him so far.

"⯎I'll let Midorotta know about it when he wakes up. Until then, I need ALL of you to tell me EXACTLY what happened..."

#cherry chatters #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #pokemon irl #flygon #samurott #suicune #serperior #???#trainer blair #Arc 3

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

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ataraxia - ch. 3 [ diluc x reader ]

ch. 3 - questionnaire pairing: diluc x gn!reader warnings: mention of injuries, mentions of murder, mentions of familial passing. not beta read. words: ~2.7k words fic masterlist [ prev ] - [ next ]

chapter summary: your newest companion, diluc, fulfills his end of the bargain. you’re not quite sure what you’ve gotten yourself into. a/n: not sure how long this fic is going to be in its entirety. guess we’ll just see what happens! it’s starting to have a very different writing style from most of my stuff ;;; but that’s ok!

diluc rests within the spare bedroom of your cottage, across the hall from you. with the threat of infection eliminated, his wounds sutured, and his broken bones properly set into casts, his recovery is but a waiting game at this point. sure, he likely has several months to go, but your main priority is getting him walking once more. you would have to head into the city within the next few days to retrieve a pair of crutches for him, but until then, diluc would have to rest.

he’s finally, thank the archons, wearing a shirt. the redhead is also far less grumpy now than your previous encounters, albeit a bit drowsy when he speaks due to the influence of the far stronger pain medication that the healer prescribed him. while diluc mostly insists on managing himself, he is still unable to walk long distances, if at all, and likely wouldn’t be able to move around for the next few days.

which, of course, left diluc dependent on you.

the urge to ask him to cough up mora in exchange for your undying attention (aka, y’know, not letting him die in the midst of your daily activities) is awfully tempting, but the presence of your parents still lingers heavily in your house. while they’re not around to influence your actions anymore, the nostalgic décor of the spare bedroom diluc rests in serves the world’s worst purpose: it forces you to have good morals. therefore, out of the goodness of your heart and definitely not because you’re worried that you’ll unsettle the spirits of the dead, you ultimately decide not to ask diluc for repayment.

what you do ask him for, however, is to uphold his end of the verbal contract you two had made. sure, you’re not in liyue and under the jurisdiction of morax, but you still expect diluc to follow through. you have far too many questions for the redhead, but elect to let him rest for a bit. he had had the courtesy to thank you when you placed another glass of water, a book, and an apple with some cheese by his bedside, but had gone quiet for the rest of the day.

you now stand in your kitchen, making yourself dinner for two in silence. you have no idea if diluc will even have an appetite or if he’ll even like what you’re making, but you crack the eggs onto the skillet nonetheless. the dish in question is rather simple: toast, ham, poached eggs, and mayonnaise. within minutes, you’re serving up the plates of food and you decide to leave your own in the kitchen.

despite the door being cracked, you knock slightly on the door to diluc’s temporary room. you cringe internally as it swings open from the gesture, but diluc, who is surprisingly awake and in the middle of reading the book you had left him, doesn’t seem to mind the sudden intrusion. his head perks up upon seeing the food in your hands and you feel guilt swirl in your stomach. had he been hungry this entire time? oops.

“hi, i... uh... made food,” you awkwardly greet, holding out the plate to him. diluc takes it with his uninjured left hand and sets the plate in his lap.

“thank you,” diluc says and the words are strangely genuine. much to your behest, in the short encounters you’ve had with him since the healer departed this morning, he has been nothing but polite. it’s irksome. you want a reason to hold a grudge against him due to his crankiness yesterday. however, it’s proving to be hard.

“adventurer’s breakfast sandwich,” you explain, gesturing to the dish. “hopefully you don’t have any dietary restrictions.”

“i do not,” diluc confirms as he cuts into the poached egg with the side of his fork. you watch as the yellow yolk oozes out. “are you an adventurer?”

you shake your head. “nope. just grew up with some in the family.”

“ah.” diluc says and silence falls between the two of you. you shift awkwardly as he begins to eat and diluc makes no effort to engage you in conversation. great, you think. we’re both awkward.

“are you an adventurer?” you finally ask, unable to think of a better conversation starter. you know your food is getting cold, but it can wait. if you do this little chit-chat with diluc right, you’ll be able to get the answers you need.

“not quite,” diluc says after swallowing the bite of food he’s chewing. you await an elaboration. he does not provide you with one.

you quickly realize that talking to him is going to be the equivalent of prying teeth. you’ve never wanted to be a dentist. this isn’t going to be fun for either of you and he’s certainly not going to make it easy, even if the two of you did have an agreement. so, you decide. i’m not going to make it fun for him either.

“so, diluc,” you sing-song, sitting down in rocking chair in the corner of the room. you hastily shove the quilt that rests upon it to the side. “how’d you get your ass kicked?”

diluc sets the fork down on his plate, having finished his meal after scarfing it down. he narrows his eyes at you, unamused, but decides to indulge you with an answer anyways.

“i got in a fight. i did not get my ‘ass kicked’,” he explains. it’s a rather awful explanation.

“you got in a fight with your enemies.” you clarify dully, unimpressed with his answer.

“correct,” diluc says. silence falls between the two of you. it’s only interrupted by the rumbling of your stomach, which diluc can thankfully not hear. you stand from your chair, take his plate from him, and pad into the kitchen before returning with your own plate. you sit back down in the rocking chair and begin to eat as diluc stares at you warily.

“i have questions for you,” you say before he can bury his nose in the book you provided him once more.

“such as?”

“your ‘enemies’. do they know you’re here?” your safety is your first priority. while you don’t want diluc to die, you’re not about to sacrifice your own life for the man who brought trouble to your doorstep.

“no.” he responds after a brief moment of thinking. his tone is rather sullen, yet it reeks of honesty. yuck.

“how do you know that?” you ask, poking at the runny egg yolk that bleeds onto the bread underneath it.

“we would both be dead if they did.”

you have half a mind to kick him out for that response, but choose to swallow another bite of your sandwich once more. what a relaxing, polite answer from the stranger lying in your bed. for all you know, he could be a murde- holy shit. is he an enemy of the state? am i housing a fugitive?

“diluc,” you begin and he tilts his head inquisitively, surprised by the sudden desperation in your tone. “just who are you running from?”

the panic in your voice is evident and it causes diluc to actually consider your question. after all, you could have the fontaine government knocking at your door tomorrow morning and arresting you because of this weirdo. you weren’t too worried about his ability to stick a knife in your neck either. thanks to him somehow fracturing one of the strongest bones in his body, he likely wouldn’t be able to do that yet. yet.

“oh. i am not a fugitive or anything, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” diluc says. it provides you little relief.

“answer the question.” you demand and diluc parts his lips to speak, before closing them once more. his brows furrow slightly as he thinks of a response.

“i did agree to answer your questions. although i can’t necessarily say i trust you yet, i am indebted to you for your hospitality.” diluc’s answer still manages to evade the question, so you ignore his platitudes and instead stare at him pointedly. he seems to get the hint as the corner of his lips threaten to twitch upwards into a smile, but he quickly returns to his typical stoic expression.

“my enemies are the fatui.”

your fork clatters against your plate and you bite back a groan. so, diluc is an enemy of the state. just not your state. while you certainly wouldn’t get in any legal trouble for housing him, especially since fontaine’s relations with snezhnaya were tempestuous at best, it would inevitably bring trouble knocking to your door. but you knew enough of the fatui to know diluc is telling the truth. if they knew of his location here and he was a great enough enemy to have sustained such injuries from them, then the fatui would have arrived to kill him already. for now, only two other people besides diluc knew of his arrival to the farm: you and the healer.

as much as the healer loved mora, she hated the fatui more. you weren’t too concerned with her involvement in the situation. you, on the other hand, were the biggest concern. if the fatui came knocking at your door asking for diluc, you would hand him over with little to no hesitation. after all, they rewarded compliance with hefty amounts of mora and you were no fool. such an amount would truly be life changing.

“that sucks.” you finally respond before stuffing your mouth with another bite of food.

“for them.” diluc says. his tone lacks any haughtiness, leaving you perplexed. you swallow the food in your mouth before staring at him quizzically.

“they broke your femur.” you remind him and diluc seems nonplussed about the confession.

“i’ve maimed twenty of their agents. potentially killed, but i typically do not stick around to view the results.” diluc says. yup. there it is. the murder confession. of course. although, you had to hand it to him. despite how bad you wanted the fatui’s mora, if you were capable of kicking their asses, you would do the exact same thing. therefore, you bite back your judgment.

“why? i mean, apart from the fact that the fatui suck. everyone knows that,” you wave your fork lazily in the air. “but why specifically risk your own life to... aggravate them?”

diluc’s eyes break away from yours and it appears you’ve hit a sore subject. you brush it off. the man can confess he beats up fatui agents for fun but can’t easily say why? that wasn’t your fault. the redhead could sort out his problems on his own time. you were just curious, that’s all.

“they’re a nuisance where i’m from,” he explains, although his voice appears to be rather distant.

“mondstadt, right?” you ask and diluc looks up at you with wide eyes, startled by your accuracy. “i can recognize the accent. it’s not very discreet. gonna have to change that if you don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.” his expression settles into a slightly sheepish one at your words.

“you’re new to this, aren’t you? the whole espionage thing?” you ask, moving your now empty plate off your lap and setting it on the floor next to you.

“how could you tell?” diluc asks cautiously. you can almost see the walls around his personality reinforcing themselves with each spoken word.

“you didn’t have a game plan for what you did if you got injured. if so, you wouldn’t have showed up on my doorstep. you also asked for a healer long before you knew anything about me besides my name. you didn’t hide your accent. and, no offense, but your appearance sticks out like a sore thumb. red hair and such a distinctive black jacket don’t exactly help with keeping a low profile,” you explain and diluc just stares at you blankly, folding his hands in his lap.

“you are very thorough.” he says and you flash him a smirk.

“i’ve had all day to think. but, trust me and i’ll trust your words, even though i probably shouldn’t. this is just a farm and i’m just trying to make ends meet. i don’t really care to get involved in politics or any of that, but, unfortunately, i can’t just let you die,” you lean back in the rocking chair. the tips of your toes graze the ground lightly, preventing you from swinging back and forth.

“thank you for that,” diluc says and the two of you fall into silence. his eyes glance at his book, but it appears as if he’s trying to be respectful. the redhead seemed to be fairly awful at small talk, but you were going to force it anyways.

“what are your next plans?” you ask. “you’ll be walking in a few days. are you going to go challenge the tsaritsa herself?”

much to your surprise, diluc laughs quietly at your question. “no. i... still need to figure out what i’m going to do. despite how much i want to, i cannot simply throw myself back into the thick of things.”

ah, so the fatui vanquisher did have some basic preservation skills. what a surprise.

“well, you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you need to,” you offer. you’re not quite sure why you do, but the words exit your lips before you can rescind them.

“in exchange for payment, i presume?” diluc asks as a formality, but you shake your head no.

“you’ll have to pay for your food. i’m no bed and breakfast, after all, but... hm. let’s just say i have some family that would want me to support those who made enemies of the fatui.” your words are intentionally vague, much like his earlier ones. diluc’s eyes soften in understanding found within the words not spoken between the two of you. you can relate to him on his fatui hatred, even if you would sell diluc to them for the price of a single corn chip.

“but overall,” you continue, burying your grave even deeper. “you can stay here free of charge. however, i do expect you to help out around the farm once you’re able to.”

“that is... quite generous. thank you.” diluc praises you and you shake your head, waving his words away with a flick of the wrist.

“i’m not doing it for you.” you stand up and walk to the doorframe, your back now turned to him. “the fatui killed my parents. you kill the fatui. it only feels correct.”

you turn to look at him over your shoulder and flash him a faux smile. it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. diluc stares at you expressionlessly, yet you can see the sympathy in his eyes. the same pity in his eyes is the one you see in most of the townsfolk. it’s why you keep to yourself. it makes you feel small and insignificant. but you don’t snap at the redhead because of it. instead, you just sigh, before glancing at the bedside table to make sure he had enough water.

“i’ll be in my room. don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.” your voice is softer than before, but you don’t await an answer from him. instead, you shut the door behind you, before letting out a sigh and running a hand over your face.

jeez, you really know how to overshare, don’t you? you chastise yourself, but before you can beat yourself up too much, your dog trots up to you and nudges you gently. the gesture pulls you out of your negative thoughts and you walk over to the back door, opening it up for him to go outside.

your dog pauses for a second, glancing up at you and wagging his tail for a brief moment, before bolting out the door. this time, the night is filled with clear skies and little to no threats.

“be quick.” you call after him. you hear a soft bark in response and, staring out into the vast expanse of green grasses before you, you feel a churning in your stomach. you’re unsure whether it’s trepidation or excitement for what’s to come.

you aren’t sure you want to know.

tag list (send in an ask to be added/removed!): @quixoticmirror @fishyfish-y

#genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc #genshin impact

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Text

At ease, soldier (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader)

What is this? This is 8/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. (More deets in pinned post). The prompt is “I’ve never seen you dressed-up like this and **** you’re hot.”

Summary: when Santi moves in with you following his divorce, he didn’t anticipate seeing you in THAT DRESS. It does things to him, and has him reevaluating everything he feels for you, and everything he thinks he knows about home.

Author’s note: this has divorced!dad!Santi, so it’s a bit different (marriage / child not with reader). This might not be my best thought-out one-shot ever, or my best portrayal of Santi, but it is what it is. I personally think the thing reader does is adorbs, fight me if you disagree :P I really hope you like it! <3 Thank you as always for reading, commenting, and sharing. It means the world.

Rating: M/E (18+ ONLY, Minors do not read or interact. Thank you.)

Word count: this is not as long as some of the others! Hurrah!

Warnings: masturbation (m); Santi has super sexual thoughts about reader and they’re not together- they are written but not said out loud. theme of divorce but not too angsty. few mentions of shared custody / parenting (not reader’s child). Food mentions. Swearing. Kissing. Lmk if I missed any.

GIF: @realoscarisaac

Tagging: @isvvc-pvscvl @anetteaneta @stardustkenobi @casifer-is-king @foxilayde @tlcwrites @aellynera @kindablackenedsuperhero

“Hey, look. Thank you for this,” Santi says, softly and sincerely as you cross him again in the hallway, halting you with a hand on your shoulder. The heat from his palm bleeds through the thin fabric of your t-shirt and you consider wresting yourself sharply away from the pleasant torment of him. At the same time, you consider leaning in to his warm chest and staying there, so help you, curled like a leaf against the sturdy trunk of him.

He’s moving in with you, following the long, drawn-out process of his divorce. It has been a long time coming, but his marital house -which he has lived in alone going on a year - has finally been sold-off and split with his ex. And so, here he is, treading lightly and making himself small in your home - as if this isn’t somewhere he’s been loud and brash and welcome ever since you bought the damn place.

You can tell he’s grateful. He’s expressed it enough times. It’s the apology in his eyes you can’t stand - as if he’s some kind of burden. He’s been through a lot, but you want him to walk tall, instead of stooping under the weight of his “bad decisions”. He blames himself for a lot of things that you don’t think he ought to, not least the collapse of his marriage. She had cheated; although, he insists there were problems long before that. Perhaps even right from the beginning. He’d always been a travelling soldier, and even after he was discharged he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“I promise. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I get back on my feet,” he adds, self-consciously smoothing a hand over his scruff.

You smile softly. His promises still mean something to you. Even if he hadn’t seen through the promise of his marriage, you know he had tried. You know his word is never given lightly.

It’s hard. To start again, all over again. You know. You, yourself, were rattling around in a house too big for one, bought for two, perhaps meant for more - but that hadn’t worked out either. You’d had to forego promises you made as well.

“There’s no rush. Honestly.”

There isn’t. Between the legal fees and alimony, and carving up his assets, Santi needs a little time to get his finances together before he can consider his own place. You’re happy for him to take all of the time he needs. Out of the options available to him, you had been both the preferred one, and the last to offer. The other boys don’t have space. He’d considered a houseshare, but he needed somewhere his little daughter, Ava, could still come to stay on weekends.

You have space. Ava adores you. You were spending a lot of time with Santi anyway. For all those reasons, it was a no-brainier. You’d only hesitated so long in offering due to your impossible, undying love for the man. Did you really want to do that to yourself? To torment yourself with him, in your home?

“It’s no problem at all, but I do need you to haul this stuff inside a little faster, okay? I still have a date tonight, slowpoke.”

“You got it, boss.”

You chuckle, punching him playfully in the tricep, and traipsing out to the lawn to pick-up another box.

Perhaps it was ludicrous to go on a date tonight, of all nights, but at least you admit to yourself that it is an exercise in majorly over-compensating. It is some conscious attempt to signify how Not Into Him you are, and you are hoping -if the guy is cute enough and the sex is earth-shattering enough- that perhaps you could even convince yourself.

Aside from your well-established feelings for him, this whole arrangement is pretty dangerous. Santi is too easy to be around, and if you let yourself sink into the cosy bubble of his company, you fear you will never think to look for anyone else again. Whilst that would be just fine with you - Santi, on the other hand? He’s never been interested in you like that. Probably hasn’t ever entertained the idea of it. Besides, the timing between you two - even if there was something there- has never been quite right. There was always some mission or woman or man or bad decision getting in the way.

You sigh, as you bend and pick-up a box, feeling like your date is already doomed as thoughts of Santi swirl relentlessly in your head.

You can hope, perhaps, that it won’t turn out to have been a terrible decision to invite him into your home. Perhaps living with him will even help you get over him, once and for all, in a way that nothing and no-one else has managed to. You could discover all of his annoying habits and start bickering over whose turn it is to take the bins out until you hate each other, perhaps? However, somehow you think this is unlikely - when you’d broken up with Malik, Santi’s presence in your house had gotten you through. His laugh and his warmth had curled into every corner of this structure and nestled there, driving out all of the cobwebs. Santi made this house a home again, before he ever lived in it. In a way, you dread to think what will happen now.

“Make yourself at home, okay?” you encourage - this time as you cross him on the landing. “Put your stuff wherever. Take up some space. Hang your guitar above the fireplace. Hell, get a new one. Hang that too.” That had been a point of contention with her. “Paint your bedroom black, like you always wanted when you were a kid, whatever you want.”

Santi smiles warmly at you as he gets the message you’re so desperately trying to hammer home. You don’t want him to shrink himself into a corner. You want him to be at ease here. You want him to feel welcome.

With words escaping him, Santi’s hands wind around the back of your head, and he casually leans over, planting a quick but heartfelt kiss of gratitude, right in the middle of your forehead. “I love you,” he says freely, and, as he trots abruptly down the stairs, you only wish he meant it in the same way your heart sings its reply.

You do want him to relax here. He’s carried so much for so long. He’s carried it halfway around the world and back again, and the man deserves the break.

****

“Can I ask your opinion?” you call through his new bedroom door, cracking it and poking your head in as he responds affirmatively.

“Sure, come in.”

Santi watches as your body follows the path of your head, the slow reveal of your striking dress oddly tantalising, and sending a subtle surge of heat through him which he wasn’t prepared for.

“How do I look?” you say apprehensively, holding out your palms before doing a little half-swivel, one hand poised on your hip.

Santi’s extremely conscious that his eyes widen, and he swears he must look like a cartoon, feeling like they’re popping out of his head in surprise when he clocks you.

You’re wearing a form-fitting, flattering dress. It’s long, and it hugs you perfectly where it touches, with subtle hints of leg and cleavage where the luxe material gives way to soft, inviting skin. Your hair and make-up are different than usual too, and you really look the whole package - so much so that Santi takes a minute to form a coherent thought, beyond the low whistle he expels when he sees you stood before him.

Shit - he knows it has been too long since he said anything, and yet all he can muster from his slack jaw is a feeble croak.

Wow. Holy shit.

Santi is a little thrown. Your body looks amazing. You look sultry and sexy, and like sex-on-legs, if he’s honest. He tries to think or speak, but he’s not sure if he’s ever seen you dressed-up quite like this, and you have him feeling more than a little stupefied.

He gulps.

It’s not as though you look transformed, or anything. You’re an attractive woman, always, and the dress simply highlights that. No change there. But the way he’s responding to you is something new, and not something he entirely understands. Perhaps he simply became so used to seeing you clad in fatigues and sweats and overalls, usually covered in mud and sweat and blood. Perhaps he’s spent so long schooling himself into believing you’re someone he couldn’t and shouldn’t hit on -his friend- that he simply buried it. Buried it under his missions and his marriage and his house and his divorce. But now that all of those things are gone, and all the silt stirred-up, perhaps there is space for it to resurface? Now that, for the first time in a long-time, he feels at ease, and, here you are, looking like that?

Oh boy. His eyes trail over you further as though he can’t get enough. His gaze snags on the places the dress clings to you, providing a subtle outline of your form. He lingers on the places where you’re practically busting out of it- he likes those places especially.

He likes it a little too much, he realises, as he experiences an involuntary rush of blood to his cock, and he subtly rearranges his hands in front of him to disguise the fact as he stands to attention for you.

Fuck, what would Frankie say? Santi thinks, as he reaches for literally any wholesome thought where none seem to exist - in his mind nor his vocabulary - while he’s looking at you.

“You look nice,” he manages to say, but that’s not how he’s phrasing it in his head. Not at all.

I wanna shove my tongue between your thighs, honey. I want you to slip those red lips down on my dick until you drain my balls dry.

“Nice?” you bristle. “Nice, Santiago? I don’t want to look nice.”

“How do you want to look?”

Naked, on my bed? Or, maybe that dress hitched all the way up. Those juicy hips of yours being marked by my hands as I bounce you on me until I fill you up.

You cross to the cheval mirror at the opposite side of the room, further examining yourself.

Holy shit, you look good from the back too.

Santi may be a lapsed Catholic, but he certainly feels like he needs to visit confession with the thoughts he’s having about you right now. He swears he must have started visibly sweating.

“I don’t know,” you say, softly twirling. “Bangable, I guess? Come on, you’re a straight, hot-blooded male. If a woman turned-up to a date wearing this, would this do it for you? It’s not too much?”

He gulps. “Yes. Yep. For sure. That’ll do it.”

When you flick your eyes back to him, with a soft, humble smile, laced delicately with an inner confidence, he finally has a wholesome thought again:

You’re beautiful.

“I think it’s a little too much... but I guess we’ll find out,” you sing-song, his eyes following your hips as you wiggle back to the door, before turning back to him over your shoulder. “Do you have everything you need before I go?”

He looks at your plush red lips. He licks his own.

I need you on your knees.

Oh well, he’d managed to be wholesome for all of two seconds. That was something.

“I’m good,” he pushes out. “When will you be back?”

“Don’t wait up,” you breeze. “He has a nice pad, so if it works out I think we’ll be heading to his place.”

His place?

Santi can’t help but wonder why he’s suddenly imagining what sounds you might make underneath another man. Hell, whether he could double the intensity of those pretty noises under him instead.

This is not ideal. This is not ideal at all, when he hasn’t even made it through day one.

He hasn’t felt this... aroused in a long-time. Not since long before things went south with her. He hasn’t been this hard for a woman in just as long. He’s been hard in the sense of a mechanical, routine need, sure, where he has the basic need to pleasure himself; but this is something else. This is potent. This is lust, raw and consuming. This is not a general need, but it is startling in its specificity.

As you leave, and he takes himself urgently out of his pants, he understands that this is all for you. Moreover, as he winds his hand around himself, and works his shaft to the thought of you, he has the best orgasm he’s had in a long time.

When he’s done, he has some severe post-nut clarity, feeling guilty that he has moved into your home and spilled himself on your sheets to the thought of you; on day one, no less. It’s not very respectful.

But at the same time, he’s caught in a spiral. It’s like you have flipped a switch in him.

And, as much as he feels a little guilty, and a little terrified by the sudden onslaught of his desire, he feels oddly at ease. He already feels at home.

****

Santi is curled-up on the couch when he hears your key rattle in the door, and you tread in looking just as breath-taking, but a little more sombre than earlier. Having already shed your coat and kicked-off your shoes at the door, you collapse into the arm chair opposite him, your dress ballooning momentarily with a waft of air.

“It didn’t work out,” you explain solemly, answering the question on the tip of his tongue. He flicks off the distracting TV he was half-watching to give you his full attention.

“How?” he asks, leaning unconsciously forward in his seat, his eyebrows raised and mouth curling in a soft sympathetic smile. “There’s no way he didn’t like the dress.”

“Oh, he loved the dress. But I didn’t love him. He was a bit of an ass, actually. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You okay? Did he hurt you? Say something to you?” Santi searches your face urgently, his eyes suddenly intense and muscles coiled. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

You lean forward in your own seat and pat him on the thigh. Your perfume wafts over him. You smell delectable. “Stand down, Garcia. You’re fine. I don’t need anyone knee-capped. I’m just tired.” You stand, and his chin tips up to follow you. “Gonna wash-up and go to bed,” you add, tiredly. “Your night okay?”

“Yep. Fine,” he says briefly, more concerned with you. You look a little sad. A little wistful, he thinks. “Think I left my entire box of underwear in ‘Fish’s car. But that’s tomorrow’s problem.” He smiles up at you gently, with those deep, brown eyes of his, as that earns a light laugh from you. He saws his hand over his chin, gaze remaining soft as he watches you disappear and bid him goodnight. You swing around the doorframe as your hand clutches it, a trail of diaphonous fabric floating after you, as though you are a vision which could disappear in a cloud of smoke. It scares him that you would, he realises. He’s usually the one who disappears. Who retreats.

He watches you slink away, his mind already busy, working on how he might pick you up from your slump, and he plods to the kitchen.

You are upstairs in your en suite when he calls in to you, and, once you admit him, he transfers a steaming mug of sleep tea to your night-stand as a little pick-me-up. A small token, but one that makes you gasp in a breath, looking at his thoughtful gesture in confusion and surprise. “Thank you. That’s sweet of you.”

“Don’t sound quite so surprised,” he says thickly as he approaches you where you hover next to the sink. “Just because she ditched me doesn’t mean I’m a total write-off. I do have some redeeming qualities.”

He wraps his hands around the back of your head and he pulls you to him, planting another kiss to your forehead; but this time, in the dusky bedroom light, it hits different. It is slower and softer, and he looks far more comely. It sends a hot flare of yearning through you, blazing into every nook of you.

“I know that,” you say steadily, your fingers and thumb reaching up to play idly with the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. Your fingers brush his arm before you check yourself, turning away from him and towards the sink so that he can’t see your desire catching like a flare - and instead you continue to cleanse the make-up from your face, grateful for the cover the activity provides. “In fact, maybe I should have gone to dinner with you,” you snicker, innocently, before you think of the full implication of your words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean like that...” you hastily backpedal. “Just because we live together I’m not planning on getting ideas.”

“It’s okay,” he says, voice low and steady and soothing enough to halt your ramble. “You can go getting ideas if you want to.”

You whip your head towards him, a gulp trailing down your throat, as you see the vaguest hint of a suggestive eyebrow, of a smug smile dancing at the corners of his lips. You will yourself to remain in place; to avoid the call to lean in to his inviting lips or chest - even if he’s not giving you any signal that he would move away if you did.

You are hot aren’t you? Santi thinks. More than that; you are beautiful too. Now that he’s allowing himself to notice it, he can’t stop noticing it.

Seeking air, and space, the world shrinking to a dot, you tear yourself away from the sink and stride out into the bedroom, posting yourself at the door and signifying it is time for him to head out too. He takes the hint, and he comes to stand opposite you in the hallway, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweat pants.

“How are you doing?” you ask breathily, not knowing what has come over you but trying to push this heady, unravelling feeling away. To bundle it up and bind it back down. “First night in a new place?” You consider it, chiding yourself. “I should have been here. This whole date thing was stupid.”

It’s not a new place at all though, Santi thinks. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever been somewhere more familiar. Anywhere more like home. Not even with her - Ava notwithstanding, of course; that little girl is his pride and joy.

When Santi doesn’t answer, his eyes softly glowing at you instead, you reach to fill the silence, lest you fall all the way into the pit of yearning. “Maybe us living together is a bad idea. This is day one and you’re already counselling me through a bad date.”

“What else are friends for?” he smiles meaningfully. Gratefully, again. You can tell what he’s likely thinking. He’s thinking about all the times you have counselled him through years of bad decisions. You’ve always been there for him.

“Right.” Friends, you remind yourself, as the hall-light pools around him like spun gold.

He reaches his sock-clothed foot out to gently bump yours. “Well, don’t take tonight too hard, okay? You’re a catch.”

Feeling bashful, you fold you arms and smile, looking down at the floor and away from the vision that is him.

You kick your foot out to boop his in return, with your sizeable, fluffy slipper. “Well. You’re pretty bangable too, you know. Someone will snap you right up, as soon as you’re ready.”

Someone.

He turns his mouth downward, and tilts his head to the side. “Hmm,” he says as if considering your point. “Kinda looking for a little more than a bang though. I want someone who can be my best friend too. And... best friends? They’re kinda hard to come by.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. His tone is casual, but his eyes are earnest, and your desire unravels like spools of red ribbons from your core.

The way he’s looking at you, from beneath his lashes, a smirk developing at the corners of his lips has you almost collapsed to the floor with yearning, and you think, if he doesn’t step away from your door soon, you will find it hard to resist the temptation to drag him inside - if he’s willing. You will be tempted to let these ribbons wind around him and coax him to you.

However, Santi simply lets his comment hang in the space between you as you fumble for a response, before turning away and shuffling down the hall and towards his room.

“Goodnight, hermosa,” he calls, the pet name lighting you on fire. Beautiful.

“‘Night,” you call back to him, as casually as possible, before disappearing hurriedly inside your door and throwing yourself face down on to the bed with a silent scream.

Santi, for his part, reaches his respective room, and throws himself backwards on to the bed, having to fight the urge to run straight back to your room and kiss you senseless, if he’s honest. As he sighs out a huge breath and brings his hands up to his face, a light chuckle befalls him, and he has to consider what’s so funny. He lands on it quickly.

She - his ex- must hate this living arrangement, he realises. She’d always thought the two of you had something. She’d insisted. Had gotten mad jealous over it too. In all honesty, Santi had never seen it. Or, not at the time, at least.

Perhaps the timing had never been right.

...Not until now, perhaps?

****

The atmosphere is different in the morning. More settled, thanks goodness.

You’re up earlier than Santi, and you get to work in the smaller guest bedroom, which you had kept off-limits to him the day prior. When you’re ready, you call down to him - he’s in the kitchen getting a head start on breakfast- insisting that he comes upstairs.

He pads up to find you in the hall, stood with a huge smile plastered on your face.

“I have a surprise for you,” you announce to him, and, a curious, happy look blooms over his sharp features.

“Okay,” he says, oblivious, but his interest piqued as you swing the door open and hustle him inside ahead of you, clinging to his t-shirt.

“It’s not finished yet,” you explain from behind him as he moves his head to look around the room, freshly painted and carpeted, and entirely different to how it looked before. “Ava still likes purple, right?” you say to his back, delight infusing your voice as he takes it all in. “Oh, and the birds-“ you point “-the boys and I each painted one. Benny’s is super wonky. I know it’s cheesy as all hell, but we wanted to remind you that you -and Ava- you’ll always have us as family.”

Santi doesn’t say anything. He can’t. He’s speechless with gratitude. It is all he can do to look around the room and take in all of the details. The little bed and princess canopy, the shelves lined with a few books to start her off.

This is something he didn’t dream he would be able to give Ava again for a long time. At least, not without some coordinates and a shovel.

He rasps one hand over his stubble, and you come up beside him, seeing that his eyes are full with tears, and his face pinched, as he fights to supress his emotions. He doesn’t cry often, and there’s not a lot that can reduce him to tears, so you can tell from his reaction how much this all means to him.

Your voice and your manner softening, you slot both of your hands around one of his and give him a squeeze there, before rubbing soothing circles into his back.

When you speak again, your voice is full, cracking with emotion. “I know this can’t be easy, Santi. And you need to know that you are home for Ava, wherever you are, whatever happens. But I thought this would help a little too?” He sneakily thumbs away a tear from the corner of his eye as your words overwhelm him. “I hope I didn’t take too much of a liberty,” you continue, looking around the room, and wandering deeper into it. “Thought I’d get it half-done and then you could choose the rest with Ava tomorrow?”

You turn back to him, smiling over your shoulder before turning all the way, your expression bright and hopeful and everything he hasn’t been able to muster for himself.

Still choked-up, Santi takes a few steps forward to meet you in the centre of the room, his long lashes beaded with diamond-like tears. He takes your hands in his, one to each side, and he presses his forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” he rasps, his voice full of holes, and your own eyes overflow too as his hands squeeze yours, happy that he’s happy, and sad that he’s in pain too.

After a few moments like this, the yearning creeps in, and, lest it invade everything, you extricate yourself from him gently, padding towards the door and offering, in a soft voice, to give him a minute alone.

“Wait,” he says, his voice catching you as you reach the hallway, evidently yielding a great deal of power for such a breathy thing, and it halts you in your tracks. “Can I try something?”

“Try what?” you ask, your heart and your voice fluttering in tandem, as Santi moves towards you in the hall with purpose.

“Can I kiss you?” His eyes search yours, brimming with emotion and softness and yearning too, his thumb and forefinger coming-up to clasp your chin tenderly in his grip.

“Is this a good idea?” you babble, as his lips hover moments from yours, and you are drawn to him with an achingly slow gravity. “You’re emotional, and you’re rushing and maybe you’re projecting or... maybe a million other things and I... really like you,” you say, raising your hands in between you, your palms pressed to his chest as your voice catches on hooks in your throat - keeping him at a slight distance before you can succumb to him. Immediately, he stops his advances, one hand winding gently around your waist. “Santi, I mean, I really like you,” you elaborate, you voice brittle and coming undone.

As much as you want this -have wanted this-you couldn’t face being one of his whims or mistakes or bad decisions. You couldn’t face being something he ended up leaving behind. He means too much to you for that.

Sensing your pain now, Santi smiles softly at you, not angry or offended in the slighest, but nodding in understanding. Tenderly, he trails the pad of his thumb along your jawline, and across your lower lip. He still finds apprehension in your eyes, and so, instead of the kiss he craves, he holds your head gently with one of his hands, and he dips forward to plant a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, your eyes fluttering closed and a single tear spilling out of you as it lands.

Then, he pulls back, both of you wearing watery smiles, and feeling more than a little frayed around the edges.

“I get it,” he admits, nodding slowly. “On paper, this seems like another of my bad fucking ideas, doesn’t it? But...” he explains softly, eyes shining at you. “I feel as though I finally have things figured out. I feel like I know where I’m supposed to be.”

You nibble on your lower lip, a tentative, shy smile brewing. “Guess that was one powerful dress I wore last night, huh?”

“Hmm,” he considers, with a gentle chuckle. “It was, for sure, honey. Honestly though? This sports bra and overalls get-up is doing it for me too,” he admits, with a lopsided grin, nodding down at your DIY outfit.

You examine his eyes in disbelief. You can’t believe that he’s looking at you like that. Like you’ve always wanted; and yet... you essentially knocked him back, your nerves and anxieties getting the better of you, despite his lips being moments from yours.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you gulp, eyes heavy with apology.

“Don’t worry,” he says, tilting his head towards the end of the hallway. “Let’s go make some more coffee. Also, I think you deserve some pancakes, sweetie.” He offers his hand to you and with a gentle song in your heart you take it, Santi leading you back downstairs into the kitchen.

You giggle, suddenly giddy as you shake out your remaining nerves and shock and doubts. As you settle.

By the time you watch Santi open-up the cupboards and search inside, turning back to you to ask if you want chocolate chip pancakes, a tiny note of delight in his eyes, he finds you looking at him with a gentle heat, brewing and eddying and clasping him in its tendrils, dragging him under with you. It causes him to double-take as he looks between you and the food-stuffs, until you have his whole attention. Until the world around him shrinks to you.

“Santi,” you suspire, tugging on his t-shirt to spin him towards you, your voice shaking like a leaf. “You took me by surprise up there. Any chance we can... C-Can we... try that again?”

A gulp trails down his throat, mirroring the heat sinking and settling into your core, even with the mere anticipation of his lips brushing against yours; of feeling his warmth where you have long been cold. You watch his tongue darting out to whet his lips, and it is as though you are already parted for him with the motion, your own lips already spread to accomodate the way he will delve into you, opening you up for him.

Then, Santi surges forward, hands holding you securely yet softly at your back and gathering you to his mouth, as if he is parched of you, all the yearning collapsing in on itself in one final surge as he flows into your arms. Yet, for all the force of your yearning meeting in the middle, and for the harsh initial crush of your lips, when the wave crashes, it is delicate and soft, his hand cupping your face and his tongue a delicate interlocuter, uttering promises against yours. Promises you are sure he will keep.

As the kiss deepens, you truly feel him, hard and sturdy everywhere around you except for this molten, supple tongue which courses into your being like a trail of fire. His kiss is like starlight tossed into a dark pit. You are lit but your hunger will never be sated; and instead you will kiss him and devour him again and again, opening yourself up to him to feed the dark.

Suddenly, with this kiss, his warmth is on you and filling you and one with you, unravelling, and you wonder what you ever did without it. How you ever felt at ease with this yearning within you; although, you suppose you didn’t. You suppose you longed for this divine quickening and stilling, this slickness and friction. You longed to feel him, and most of all, you longed for him to yearn for you in return.

And, finally, as the kiss wanes and you hold each other tightly, Santi considers that although he planned to stay in your house for a mere few months, he has a feeling his stay by your side will be far longer. And, on your side, as you hold him against you and this house feels like a haven in ways it never has before, you are content in the knolwedge that your travelling soldier is finally at ease.

Finally at home.

A home for one, but meant for more, finally fulfilling its purpose.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #oscar isaac

392 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 3 years

Text

teeny tidbits: namjoon and y/n can’t get enough of each other & it shows

➳ pairing; kim namjoon x y/n

➳ genre; lveb!universe!!! smaybe/smalmost/smerhaps smut?? slightly suggestive is what i’m trying to say idk!! namjoon and y/n are obsessed with each other and yoongi likes making a big deal about it because both their faces get really red and it’s funny to him

➳ wordcount; 1.7k

➳ gif sourced from here but please note that it still remains property of its original maker!

»»————-　♥　————-««

“hello, hellooo!” yoongi kicks the door shut behind him as he steps into your apartment, tossing his set of keys up into the air before catching it and shoving it into his hoodie pocket, “let’s rock n’ roll, y/n! i’m ready to raid the supermarket!” he claps his hands as he enters the living room, turning to stare down the empty hallway before pausing

wow

the most exciting part of his week is when you guys go grocery shopping together?

there’s really no way to make that sound even remotely cool

“…anyone home?” yoongi’s brows furrow in concern when he’s acknowledged by nothing but the sound of silence, “y/n?”

you’re usually sitting on the couch buzzing and ready to go when he gets here so it’s a little concerning that you weren’t the first thing he saw when he got here

he turns back to look at the shoe rack, everything suddenly clicking into place when he sees that there’s a pair of larger, definitely-not-y/n-sized sneakers sitting neatly on the top shelf

ahhhhh

okay

now he understands what’s going on

no wonder you barely responded to any of his texts yesterday

you were too busy getting busy with-

“yoongi! good morning!”

“morni-” yoongi turns his head back towards the hallway quickly, his brows practically stretching up to his hairline at the sight of namjoon’s current state

first of all, the man is wearing nothing but a blanket around his waist and it’s pretty clear to see that he’s not wearing any briefs underneath

second of all, his cheeks are flushed, his hair is ruffled, and his skin is glowing

and yoongi isn’t a self-proclaimed genius but he knows that two plus two makes four

“wow, wow, wow! good morning indeed-” yoongi whistles, immediately looking upwards as to avoid accidentally making eye contact with namjoon’s… fifth lim- “i’m hoping that’s a cactus under your blanket and that you’re not just ecstatic to see me-”

“oh-!” namjoon gasps lightly, quickly pulling the blanket up a little higher before turning his hips in the other direction, “i, um, i didn’t know you were coming over today!“ he chuckles awkwardly, his grip tightening on the sheets, “i just came out for some water so i wasn’t expecting to see you- uh, did you have plans with y/n today?”

“yeah, it’s sunday, so… grocery shopping and stuff.” yoongi looks back down before holding his hand up to shield namjoon’s lower half from his poor, innocent eyes, “you’re welcome to come with us, but i’m definitely going to need you to at least put some underwear on-”

“today’s sunday?” namjoon breathes out, pausing for a second before blinking quickly and shaking his head, “jeez, i thought it was saturday! time flies, huh?”

“it sure does…” the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk before he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “…especially when you’re spending most of it railing y/n into oblivion-”

“yoongi-”

“speaking of y/n!” yoongi claps his hands and rubs them together, “is she ready to go?” he hums, leaning over slightly so he can peer into the hallway over namjoon’s shoulder

“she’s, um, she’s actually still in bed but but i’ll go and tell her now that you’re waiting for her-” namjoon smiles sheepishly before pointing towards the kitchen, “do you want coffee or anything? i can make a latte for you! i’ve been practicing a lot with my frother- y/n really likes my milk foam-”

“oh, i bet she does-” yoongi snorts, leaning against the back of the couch before crossing his arms, “maybe next time, my man. you just go and get y/n for m- holy shit!” his eyes widen as soon as namjoon spins around to head back down the hallway, namjoon immediately turning back to glance at yoongi over his shoulder in concern

“what??”

“your back!” yoongi gawks, getting up from the couch to go over and force namjoon to turn back around so he can get a better look, “jesus, it looks like you got into a fight with like, ten cats!” he exclaims, his eyes glued on the fading red claw marks that start at namjoon’s shoulders and end at his lower back

he brushes his fingers over the (obviously fresh) half-crescent nail marks embedded on the tops of namjoon’s shoulders before wincing to himself, “maybe i should’ve gotten y/n a nail clipper for christmas-”

“o-oh-!” namjoon whips back around so that his back is facing the hallway before he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, offering yoongi a nervous smile, “i, uh, it’s- i’m totally fine, don’t even worry about it-”

“joonie, i-” yoongi perks up when he hears your voice only for you to pop out from behind namjoon a second later, “yoongi! ...you’re here?” you ask, ducking behind namjoon slightly and peeking at him over his shoulder

“it’s sunday, moron.”

“...?”

“oh, dear god-” yoongi gasps suddenly, eyes widening as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth, “namjoon fucked you dumb, didn’t he? i bet that banging your head against the headboard multiple times made you lose a bunch of brain cells. now i'm going to have to be the smart one out of the two of us??”

you roll your eyes immediately at yoongi’s sarcastic remark, though his comment about namjoon makes your cheeks warm slightly

last week you slept over at his apartment so this week it was your turn to be a good host

and naturally…

let’s just say that you showed him how good of a host you were on the kitchen counter,,.., in bed,,.. on the couch,.,. in the hallway,.., in bed again.,.,

“anyway- how long do you need to get ready? twenty minutes?” yoongi pulls his phone out of his back pocket to check the time, “i wanna get my hands on a fresh, warm loaf of sourdough so we have to leave soon otherwise they’re all going to be gone and we’ll have to wait, like, five hours for the bakery to restock.”

“right! yes! sourdough!” you clear your throat, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you sort through your thoughts

you didn’t know today was sunday so you weren’t ready to go grocery shopping at aLL

“okay! coffee first, then i’ll change, then we go-” you nod, nudging namjoon aside so you can brush past him

“yeah, i think i’m gonna pop in the shower-” namjoon clears his throat, pulling the blanket up again before gesturing back towards the hallway, “i’m happy to stay here if you guys wanna go off and do your yoongi-y/n-only activities-”

“woah, woah-”

you don’t get the chance to walk past yoongi before he’s reaching over and pinching the back of your shirt to keep you from going anywhere

you let out a little yelp when he tugs you back abruptly before twirling you around so that you’re facing namjoon

“kim namjoon, you naughty, naughty man! what did you do to y/n??”

“wha- what?” namjoon blinks owlishly, yoongi tsking shamefully before wagging a finger at him

“look!” yoongi gasps, hooking his finger into the collar of the shirt you’re wearing before yanking it down so he can expose more of your skin, “what, were you trying to suck the blood out of her??”

heat immediately rushes up namjoon’s neck and up to his ears when he realizes that yoongi’s referring to the multiple blotches of purple and red staining your skin

maybe he got a little carried away last night

but there were no complaints on your end so namjoon was more than happy to mark you up!

“he-” your face flushes and you slap yoongi’s hand away before pulling your shirt up to hide them, “they’re just hickies, yoongi-”

“first of all, only horny teenagers give each other hickies- second of all, hickies are supposed to be sexy little secrets-” yoongi hums, seemingly uncaring of the way that you wince as soon as he jabs his pointer finger directly into one of them (ow!!), “and these practically scream I’M GETTING LAID and every single single person that we pass by is going to glare at you-”

“why don’t you go and make us some coffee while i go and get changed?” you turn to give yoongi a warning look before pointing to the kitchen door, “go!”

“i’m just looking out for the two of you!” yoongi raises his hands in defense, letting out a laugh as when you start kicking at him gently all while slowly nudging him towards the direction of the kitchen, “is it so bad of me to want to protect you from mr. mosquito over ther- ow, okay, okay-!”

you close the kitchen door shut with a breath, rolling your eyes at the sound of yoongi still babbling away to himself (“i’m realizing now that a vampire would’ve been a sexier example but mr. mosquito was the first thing that came to my head-”)

you turn your head slowly with your hand still on the doorknob, you and namjoon exchanging glances before bursting into giggles

“sorry... you know how he gets.” you mutter sheepishly, making sure the door is closed properly before making your way back over to namjoon

“it’s all good!” he flicks his wrist at you before reaching up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, “sorry about the, uh, the hickies.”

“it’s okay... i like ‘em, so...” you confess quietly, your stomach fluttering at the memory of namjoon’s soft lips pressing against your skin, “sorry about the scratches.”

“no, i like them too... they remind me that i’m probably doing a good job-” namjoon grins as he slips his free arm around your waist before pulling you towards him, another soft giggle bubbling from your lips when he swoops down to give you a kiss, “guess i’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone… i’ll miss you.”

“i’ll only be gone for a couple of hours…” you tease, reaching up to pinch his cheeks together so that his lips turn squidgy, “needy.”

“for god’s sake, i’m taking her grocery shopping, i’m not sending her off to space!” the kitchen door suddenly swings open as yoongi busts through, clapping his hands loudly to break the two of you up before he flicks his wrists to get you to move, “c’mon, let’s get a move on- i want my sourdough!”

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

435 notes · View notes

mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

A Different Kind of Urgent {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooooo! my penpal friend, a fellow adam driver rat, sent me a print of a charlie picture (that I’d seen a gajillion times before, mind you) and for some reason, I thirsted hard. so, naturally, I wrote a fic inspired by the picture. the reader in this story is a college professor, but it doesn’t really contribute to any ‘essential’ parts of the story (aka the smutty parts). it’s just her job lol

warnings: smut. some fluff. masturbation. semi-public smut. the sending of nudes (well, lingerie pics, to be specific). charlie’s dad outfits™️. cigarette smoking during sex. uhh tennis shoe kink??

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex. semi-public masturbation. tobacco use (as is canon for Charlie’s character). implied age gap (everyone’s over 21, no more than 10 years).

You’re in the middle of class when Charlie texts you. Your phone buzzes and buzzes on your desk so much so that you have to stop your lecture for a few seconds, worried that something urgent has happened.

Well, something did happen, and it was pretty urgent, but not exactly in the way you’d expected.

-Charlie: I know you’re teaching class right now kid.- -Charlie: But I need you.- -Charlie: Right now.-

A shiver runs down your spine as you read his words on the screen.

-Y/N: I’ve got like 45 more minutes of lecture, baby, I can’t.-

He growls under his breath, cock straining in his tan khakis.

-Charlie: Fuck.- -Charlie: Can you send me a picture? Just need to see your pretty body, kid.-

-Y/N: Say please, Charlie.-

Charlie groans in sexual frustration, hips bucking up in his desk chair.

-Charlie: Jesus fucking christ, fucking brat. PLEASE! PLEASE send me a picture!-

You smirk, picking out one of the lingerie photos you’d taken when you were home alone one night. You’ve been waiting for the right time to whip them out and...well, this seems like the right time.

-Y/N: Attachment 1 image- -Y/N: Knock yourself out. Take a picture when you’re done, and I’ll be over as soon as class is finished.-

His shaky hands scramble to type in his phone passcode and click on your message, a strangled moan leaving his lips at the picture you chose. He’d never seen this one before, never seen this set of lingerie before. He unbuckles his belt and almost tears the button clean off his khakis as he pulls his cock out, tip already red and drooling with precum.

Before he starts anything, he quickly runs over to his office door, locking it to keep anyone from walking in.

His navy cardigan suddenly feels almost suffocating and he sheds it without hesitation, unbuttoning his dress shirt and parting it, revealing his undershirt.

Wait...you want a picture. Fuck.

An idea comes to him and he whimpers, equal parts aroused and nervous about giving it a try. God he hasn’t touched himself since the divorce proceedings, just needing to blow off some fucking steam, but you’ve reignited his sexual passion, overwhelmingly so, and seemingly even more than before. Maybe even more than ever, if he’s honest with himself.

He feels like a teenager again, both completely smitten with you while at the same time incredibly horny for you.

Charlie stands up on shaky legs and shoves all the paperwork off his desk, clearing a roomy spot right in the center. He bites his lip as he props his phone up on his desktop computer with the picture of you pulled up. Jerking off with just his hand wouldn’t be enough this time around, a small part of him just knew it. He needs to fuck you, fuck something.

He positions his hands around the edge of his desk, leaving his thumbs right at the top, putting them in a wonky sort of ‘o’ shape. He adjusts so that the sharp edge is pressing against his palm before experimentally thrusting his length forward into the hole he’s created with his thumbs, immediately groaning in pleasure.

“O-Oh, kid.”

He whispers, picking up a slow thrusting rhythm, eyes squeezed shut as he imagines your pussy.

“Such a good little pussy, my good f-fucking girl.” A line of sweat has already begun forming on his forehead as he moves a bit quicker, growling wildly with each thrust. He’s embarrassingly close already. “God, j-jesus fucking christ, gonna make me cum so f-fast, kid. I’m already s-so close, damnit.”

His hips grow desperate, bucking erratically into his grip. The drag of his cock against the faux wood surface feels absolutely incredible, and he barely even hears the desk begin to groan and shift against the floor of his office, too consumed with his impending orgasm.

“Yeah, you ready? Y-You fuckin’ ready for my big fat--fuck!--load in this pretty little--shit!--k-kitty?”

Just hearing him say the word aloud, his nickname for your cunt, has him cumming within moments. His vision blacks out for a second as his hips rut forward, a seemingly continuous stream of warm white cum painting his desktop.

“Ahhhhh, fuuuuuuuck.”

He has to bury his mouth into his shirt arm to hide the cries that come from him, eyebrows knitted at the center of his forehead. His breathing is heavy as he begins coming down from his high, eyes flitting open and looking down at the mess he’d made.

His load had gone across the entire width of his desk, and his eyes widened for a moment as his brain somehow comprehended to grab his phone and take a picture of the spread.

-Charlie: Attachment 1 image- -Charlie: Come straight to my office when you get to the theater.-

You take a quick peek at the message from Charlie as your students pull out their workbooks, jaw dropping when you open the picture full-screen. Holy shit, he really did need it.

-Y/N: You sure you still have enough to fill me up with when I get there?-

-Charlie: I always have enough for you, kid. Gonna have it leaking out of you when you leave.-

You chew your lip, thinking of a quick yet clever response.

-Y/N: Is that a promise?-

He groans under his breath, chuckling lightly with a small smile.

-Charlie: Absolutely. Can’t wait to see you, kid.-

-Y/N: I’m excited too. I’ll be there in 20.-

The twenty minutes it takes for you to finish class and walk over to Exit Ghost feels like some of the longest in Charlie’s life, knee bouncing impatiently and eyes glued to the door. He twirls the Marlboro package in his hand, the clock behind his desk tick-tick-ticking the seconds away.

Finally, a soft knock comes and, just in case it isn’t you, he stuffs the carton into his pocket. “Come in.”

Your head pokes through the door and you smile at him as you walk in, shutting and locking the door behind you. You immediately notice his outfit, specifically his shoes, which are propped up on his desk.

He knows that you like how he dresses, especially when he dresses very dad-like. And those sneakers he has, the white ones with the blue lines on them...god, they drive you absolutely crazy and you have no idea why.

Your bags are quickly shoved off your shoulder by the impatient director, pulling you into his body as his lips attack yours fiercely. He notices the way you’re eyeing his outfit, and it’s then that he realizes what shoes he has on, the pair that you like so much. Oh, he could use that.

His grip on the meat of your hips tightens increasingly as the kiss heats up, lips eventually moving down to your neck.

“Well, hello to you too.”

You say, laughing softly.

“Mmmm,” He hums onto your skin, lips littering kisses and small nibbles everywhere they can reach. “I missed you, kiddo, feels like forever since we’ve had time for something like this.”

Charlie’s large body presses you up against the door, hands eager to rid you of your pants. He quickly yanks them down to your ankles, fingers finding your clothed folds.

“I’ve got a staff meeting at two, baby. We h-have to be kind of quick...sorry.” You breathe, hand wrapping in his hair, tugging at the silky raven locks.

A small and slightly disappointed sigh leaves his lips, but nothing more is said on the matter. His movements do become a bit more rushed, though, digits dipping beneath the fabric to shove up into your entrance.

Your legs spread instinctively, knees shaking as he finger-fucks you, thick digits scissoring inside you to prepare for his girth. Meanwhile, you try to focus on getting his belt and pants undone, but it’s awfully hard when his fingers feel so damn good.

He pulls away suddenly, sucking the juices off his fingers as his hungry eyes roam your figure. The carton of cigarettes presses against his thigh and he smirks, pulling his digits out with a lewd pop.

Charlie suddenly pulls you off the door, putting himself in your spot instead. He smirks, fingers running under your chin, keeping your head tilted up at him.

“Will you go open the window for me please, beautiful?”

You nod, rushing over to push it open, then come back over to stand in front of him.

“Good girl. Thank you.”

His pointer finger twirls and points to the floor while the other hand grabs the pack and lighter from his pants pocket.

“Now, turn around and bend over right here, hold your ankles or feet, or whatever.”

As you position yourself accordingly, he leans back against the door, legs spread and sneaker-clad feet planted on either side of you, right within your line of vision. He’s almost fully hard again already as he moves to free his cock from its khaki confines, undoing his pants just enough to have it out.

Again, his cardigan feels suffocatingly hot, so he quickly pulls it off and tosses it away. He rolls the sleeves up on his button-up, a sight that makes your insides clench.

He jams a cigarette between his teeth, jaw clenching when he looks up and realizes that you’re bent over for him, in just the way he asked. Your glistening pussy’s on full display as you wiggle your ass a bit, his cock bobbing and twitching with excitement.

“Oh kid, you’re dripping.” Charlie whispers, almost to himself, hand kneading one of the globes of your ass.

You chuckle softly. “Hey, baby? As much as I love hearing and feeling you, my legs are getting kinda tired.”

Laughing, Charlie says a quick ‘sorry’ before holding and pulling your hips back, lining himself up with your soaked entrance. He pulls you back some more, impaling you on his cock, head falling back against the door as he does so.

His hands shakily ignited the small flame on his lighter, bringing it up until the tip of the cigarette turned orange before flipping the cap back on and shoving it back in his pocket. He takes a long drag, groaning on the exhale.

He keeps one hand on your hip while the other spreads out on your lower back, guiding you back and forth over his shaft slowly, gently.

“Thaaat’s it, just like this, kid.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the impossibly deep angle created with this new position has it feeling like he’s reaching into your guts. Plus, with the natural up-curve of his cock, he’s brushing all the right spots inside you.

“C-Charlie…”

The familiar and comforting scent of Charlie’s cigarettes fills your nostrils, a haze of smoke surrounds your joined bodies. He continues to move you up and down on his length, buttocks clenching as his hips naturally rock forward, burying himself to the hilt each time you sink down.

“God...jesus christ...love this little pussy of yours, kid.” He breathes through his gritted teeth. “Taking me so nicely, always wrapped around me so goddamn tight.”

You quickly begin moving yourself up and down his stiff rod, bouncing as fast as you can manage. The sweet burn in your thighs only grows more prominent with each passing second, but you don’t care, too consumed in pleasure.

“Mmmmmyyyeah, baby, all for you.”

His hand comes down on your ass, giving it a firm smack before taking another quick drag, exhaling through his nose.

“That’s f-fucking right, all mine. You love being a little slut for this cock, huh? I know you do, you love when I bring you in my office and fuck your pretty cunt in the middle of the goddamn work day, can’t even wait until I get home, this f-filthy slut cunt needs to be split open and stuffed nice and full. Can’t go one fucking day without my cum fucked in you, always needs to be filled up and leaking, hm?”

Charlie was never able to do stuff like this or talk to Nicole like this. She was pretty vanilla when it came to sex, just like to be fucked quietly in bed. He called her a ‘slut’ once and she almost cried, lecturing him for half an hour afterwards on how disrespectful it was.

But now, he gets to explore everything he hasn’t gotten the chance to with you. You love it all, love the way he talks filth in your ear, calls you naughty names. You love getting fucked in all sorts of places, which at first made him a little nervous, cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red when you asked him to fuck you in your classroom or finger you under your dress on the subway. But, after almost a year and a half together, you can safely say that he’s a full-on exhibitionist deviant.

Your walls clamp down around him, eyes still squeezed shut as you feel his hips begin to thrust forward. Soon, he holds you almost completely still, moving his hips as fast as he can. His cigarette is almost ashes at this point, and he kicks himself for not thinking of a good disposal plan beforehand.

“Oh baby, oh baby...f-fuck!” You whine, hips squirming and gyrating as your impending orgasm grows closer. “Y-Yeah, I love it, love everything you do to me. Wanna take every s-single fucking drop of your cum, Charlie, want it inside me, want it dripping down my thighs.”

He almost loses his mind over your comments, drilling into you at an impossibly hard and fast rate, the lewd slapping squelching sound of your hips colliding overwhelmingly prominent in the space around you.

“You’ll go back to work with so much cum shoved into you, make you sit through your stupid fucking meeting with my cum dripping out of you. B-Better hope no one notices, huh? Better hope your boss doesn’t find out what a good little cockslut you are, how much you love having a pussy-full of your boyfriends f-fucking cum.”

A few muted cries leave your lips as he pounds you harder, his own words spurring him on. He can feel your walls pulsing around him, a sure-fire sign that you’re about to cum.

“C-Charlie! Charlie, I...I’m close.”

“K-Know you are, kid, I know you are. You’re doing so f-fucking well for me, Y/N, squeezing my big cock like a fuckin champ.” Charlie growls, quickly tossing his spent cigarette in a coffee mug on a nearby table. “And now you’re gonna rub your little clit and cum for me like I know you want to. C’mon, kid, wanna feel you come undone around me.”

You quickly begin rubbing your clit and, despite the odd angle, it brings you right up to the edge. You just need something, just a little something, to push you over the edge. Your eyes flutter open to look up at him, but then, you’re met with the sight of his sneakers.

“Goddamnit!” You’re cumming almost instantly, flooding his shaft with your release. “Yes! Oh god, yeah, c-cumming for you baby!”

His hips keep pumping, taking you right through your climax before abruptly coming to a halt when they’re buried as deep inside you as they can possibly be. His eyes go wide before squeezing shut, a guttural groan ripping through his chest as he pumps and shoves his thick creamy load into you.

“T-Take it, f-filthy whore!” He groans, rutting his hips the whole way through, making sure every drop is put inside you.

Once he’s finished, having ridden out his high to its fullest, he tucks himself back into his pants before helping you stand back up. He holds you close, looking down at you with a bright, genuine smile.

“You’re amazing, incredible...just so perfect.” He kisses all over your face before landing on your lips.

Your cheeks heat up at his compliments, hands weaving through his hair as the kiss deepens.

Suddenly, someone knocks on your office door, jiggling the doorknob.

“Charlie?”

His eyes fly open and he pulls away. Shit.

“Yeah, I’m h-here, just give me a minute!”

You quickly pull your pants up and jump under his desk to hide just as he opens the door, running a hand through his hair.

He talks to the person on the other side of the door in a rushed voice, answering their multitude of questions before quickly shutting the door, sighing as you crawl out from under the desk.

“At least we both got to cum, unlike last time.” You walk up and put your hands on his pecs, rubbing them over the fabric. “I gotta get going though, baby. I wanna grab lunch from the deli before my staff meeting.”

Charlie nods, dipping his head down to kiss you one last time, nuzzling his large nose against yours.

“Come over tonight, though? Nicole’s in town and she’s got Henry, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. I feel like we haven’t spent any quality time together lately.”

Nodding, you smile. “I would love to come over. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Great.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you later, kid. Have a good meeting.”

You laugh as you grab your bag and head out, turning back to wave and flash him a soft smile.

“See you tonight.”

187 notes · View notes

beelsnack · 3 years

Text

Obey Me! Boys Taking Care of a Sick MC

In honor of me no longer having covid, I decided to write down how I mentally coped with having the plague some headcanons about our boys and a sick MC. Because I’m all about the hurt/comfort life.

-----

Lucifer: “You should be resting.”

The human scowled. Of course Lucifer was standing guard at the bottom of the staircase.

“I’m just going to get some water,” their voice sounded like sandpaper against wood as they spoke. They felt like the living dead, and judging by the cool stare Lucifer was giving them, they looked it, too.

“No, you’re just going back to bed.” He caught them by the elbow as soon as they were within reach. “I’ll bring a pitcher of water to your room for you.”

“Lucif--” their complaint was cut off by a sudden coughing fit. The force of it made them double over, and they clutched at their chest with one hand while the other went to cover their mouth. Demons couldn’t catch human illnesses, but old habits die hard.

It wasn’t until their lungs stopped trying to eject themselves from their body that they realized that Lucifer had sat them down on the bottom step. He was rubbing slow, soothing circles on their back, a rare look of concern in his dark eyes. “Easy now, my dear,” he murmured as they caught their breath. “You’re shaking, are you chilled?”

“...Just a little,” they wheezed. They must not have sounded very convincing, because Lucifer quickly removed one glove and gently pressed the back of his hand against their forehead.

“Your fever has come back.” In one quick, fluid movement, he had taken the cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped it around them like a blanket. “Go back to bed, now. I’ll bring you water and something to bring your fever down,” he spoke softly, like raising his voice would trigger another coughing fit.

It was too bad they were too sick to appreciate Lucifer’s soft side.

Mammon: “…A’ight, that should be everything.”

Admittedly, he might have gone a bit overboard. But, could you blame him? He’d never nursed a sick human back to health before!

…Okay, so Lucifer may or may not have let Mammon use his credit card to get stuff for them. And he may or may not have taken a few liberties. It was for the human though!

“Mammon, holy shit,” they mumbled, poking their head out from the blanket burrito they had cocooned themselves in. “Is there anything left at the convenience store or did you buy them out?”

“Shut it.” he set the last six-pack of Gatorade (well, the Devildom equivalent of it, anyway) at the foot of their bed. “Ya’ weren’t specific, so I just got one of each!”

Their room looked like a doomsday prepper’s bunker. Cans of soup, a myriad of flavors of instant noodles, a portable heater, the works. Maybe they should have been more specific.

“Do ya’ need anything else?” Mammon sounded vaguely annoyed, but underneath the gruff tone he spoke with, his concern was obvious. They had given him a scare when they first came down with the flu two days ago, temperature so high that they ended up collapsing on their way to RAD. He had been fussing over them since. They weren’t even sure if he had slept.

“...Just one more thing.”

“Yeah?” he perked up like a dog waiting for an order from its master. “Whaddaya need?”

Instead of speaking, they wiggled their arms free of the blankets and held them out. For a moment, Mammon just stared at them in confusion. When what they were asking for finally clicked, his face grew so hot they could use it as a space heater.

“What are you, a little kid?” he grumbled, but there wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation as he climbed into the bed with them. They settled themselves against his chest, sighing contentedly. Sleep had taken over in a few heartbeats.

“...Get better soon, you hear?” they didn’t, obviously, and Mammon took the opportunity to gently pat their head, like they so often did for him. “If you’re gonna be all cute and stuff, I want ya to be conscious of it.”

Leviathan: “You know, I really thought you would take longer to go through all of these.”

The human looked like a whole new person compared to the last time Levi had seen them. They were sitting upright, although they looked ready to slide back down into their previous coma-like state any minute, and the number of blankets wrapped around them had been reduced to just one instead of three. They managed to shoot him a weak grin as they handed over the manga he had let them borrow.

As much as Levi loved staying locked away in his inner sanctum, it was only an enjoyable experience if one’s source of entertainment was also locked away with them. And he couldn’t, in hood conscience, let the human die of boredom instead of dying of illness, so he had ventured out of his lair armed with his collector’s edition box set of I’m A Scholarship Student At An Obscenely Rich School and Now I Have To Work Off A Debt Because I Broke A Vase That Belonged To A Host Club!

That had only been a few days ago, but this morning he had gotten a text from them saying that they were finished.

“It’s not like I have anything else to do, Levi.”

“Pretty sure you could have been sleeping, but okay.”

They stuck their tongue out. “I couldn’t put it down.”

“Right?” Levi nodded enthusiastically, clutching the box to his chest like it was worth his weight in gold. Actually, knowing him, he probably paid his weight in gold for it. “I definitely bawled my eyes out at the end. You have to watch the anime next, the music really brings the scene together. And, like, I’m not usually into pastel themes, but the color scheme actually really fits the mood, and - “

Somewhere in the middle of Levi’s overly-excited info dumping, the human’s eyes had slipped closed. By the time Levi realized he was geeking out, their breathing had evened out and they had slumped against the headboard.

…Oh. They looked really cute like that.

“Sheesh, c’mon, normie,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bored you to sleep.”

He set down the box on their nightstand and, very carefully, so he didn’t wake them up, inched them down to lay were laying against the mountain of pillows they had. Once they were settled into a position that wouldn’t give them a crick in their neck, he pulled the blanket up to their chin.

“There,” he nodded to himself. “You rest up, because you and I are going to have an anime marathon, and I won’t forgive you if you fall asleep in the middle of it.”

They mumbled, but otherwise stayed unconscious. Levi had definitely seen this in an anime before. His heart was pounding somewhere around his throat, but he wasn’t getting this opportunity again any time soon. Gently, like he was approaching a wild animal, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to their forehead.

“Seriously, get better soon.” he murmured. “I don’t like seeing you sick.”

Satan: His leg was falling asleep.

He had been sitting in the same position for at least an hour, and if it were anyone else he simply would have shoved them off and went about his day. But, how could he push the human away when they were curled up like a kitten in his lap?

They had been complaining about being bored, since they had been too feverish to attend RAD for the past few days. So Satan, always the man with a plan, had arrived in their room ready to binge watch his favorite crime drama. Even though he had seen this show at least eight times, he still found himself getting absolutely sucked into the plot. So much so that he didn’t notice the human starting to nod off until they landed against his side.

“Honestly, you could have just told me you were tired.” he muttered, gently rearranging them so their head was resting in his lap. They made a small noise in their sleep, but otherwise remained unconscious.

It was so rare that the human was still. They seemed to have an endless source of energy, able to be embroiled in all of the shenanigans that tended to happen around the family without absolutely disintegrating. To have them finally at rest, even sick, was quite the treat. Satan couldn’t quit help himself as he reached down to pet their head.

Well, if he was going to be stuck here until they woke up, at least he had a good show to watch.

Asmodeus: “Asmo, I can bathe by myself.”

“Yeah, no, don’t even try it.” Asmo shook his head as he ushered the human into his bedroom. “You passed out in the shower the other day, darling. This is the only time I’m grateful for Mammon’s snooping, because you might still be there if he hadn’t heard you fall.”

They subconsciously touched the sore spot on their shoulder where they had collided with the wall. The pain blended in with the rest of their body aches, but the bruise certainly didn’t.

“Besides,” Asmo sat them down on the chaise lounge. “A nice, hot bath with some quality oils will rejuvenate you like nothing else. Now, go on, strip.”

When they gave him a clearly unamused look, he just laughed. “Not while you’re sick, darling. You know full well being with me requires you to be at peak energy.”

With a sigh, they began peeling themselves out of their days-old pajamas. Admittedly, they did feel like a bath would help them feel a little better. They were pretty sure they read somewhere that the steam from hot water would help clear out all the gunk in their chest. And if anyone knew the intricate rituals of bath time, it was Asmodeus.

While they were stripping, Asmo had made his way over to the Grecian temple that was his bathtub and turned on the tap. After a few moments of running his hand under the stream to test the temperature, he stood and began browsing his impressive collection of bath accoutrements. “Hm, let’s see, let’s see…here it is!”

Asmo turned around, holding up the little bottle like he had just found buried treasure. “Eucalyptus, to help clear out the lungs. It’s good for muscle aches, too!”

With a flourish, he put a few drops into the water. “Alright, ready. Can you get in yourself or do you need my help?”

“I’ve got the flu, not the plague, Asmo.”

“You. Fell. In. The. Shower.” he punctuated each word with a poke to their cheek before holding out his hand to help them. Although they grumbled, they were still feeling kind of weak, so they allowed Asmo to pull them up.

“There, now, easy does it,” he spoke softly as he guided them to sit on the edge of the tub. If this were any other situation, they would be painfully aware of the fact that they were completely naked in front of the Avatar of Lust. But, the fragrant steam rising from the water was beginning to ease the ache in their chest, and Asmo’s soft hands had begun massaging their shoulders. They barely even noticed when they were fully seated.

“You’re not coming in?” they murmured sleepily as Asmo sat himself along the edge of the tub. He just laughed.

“Next time, darling. Now, you just relax and let me take care of you.”

Beelzebub: The phrase “don’t have much of an appetite” just didn’t make sense to Beel. How could someone not want to eat? Maybe he was a bit biased, being the ever-starving Avatar of Gluttony, but still. Humans needed lots of nutrients to get better when they were sick, right? He was pretty sure that was what Satan told him.

Beel scowled, scrolling through the eighteenth listicle about foods to eat when sick. Honestly, he was making himself hungry, but he was starting to get the general idea. Looks like he’s making them some soup.

The kitchen was separated into “human” and “demon” sections, after the one time that they almost used cyanide instead of salt. Human cuisine took less time and involved less magic, so Beel knew his way around the human spice cabinet. Making the soup was the easy part, making sure it got to its intended recipient was another matter.

Climbing the stairs to the human’s room felt like a Herculean task, but he did it - mostly. He may have taken a few bites here and there. But he had purposely put more in the bowl than he knew they would be able to eat, so it was fine, right? He knocked on their door twice, listening to them shuffle around before they finally called out weakly that the door was open.

“I brought food.” he said, shutting the door behind him. “You haven’t been eating much lately.”

They poked their head miserably out of the blanket burrito they had wrapped themselves in. A thin sheen of sweat covered their forehead, but they were shaking, which meant their fever hadn’t broken yet. Did humans always take this long to get better? Another question for Satan.

“I’m not really hungry, Beel.” they mumbled, voice thick and gravelly due to the sore throat they had. “You can eat it.”

Shaking his head, Beel sat himself down on the bed beside them. “I had some already.”

“Have some more.”

“No, I made it for you.” his stomach growled, completely undermining his words. “It’s basically just broth, you can drink it.”

They wiggled around for a bit before they managed to extract themselves from the absolute cocoon they had made. “…What kind of broth?”

“Just chicken, I promise.” he laughed. “I wasn’t about to try to get you to eat a Devildom recipe.”

Finally, they got themselves into a sitting position, but even that seemed to wear them out. They flopped against Beel’s shoulder, and he definitely didn’t like how hot their skin felt against his. Their breathing was ragged as they tried to get the energy to sit up.

“Here,” Beel dipped the spoon into the broth. “I’ll help.”

“I’m not a baby…”

“No, but you are really weak.” he replied gently. “Let me help you.”

He could feel the urge to protest vibrating through their body - their independence was definitely an endearing quality of theirs. But, eventually they must have come to the conclusion that a content of tenacity between the two of them was going to take longer than simply waiting out their illness. With a huff, they opened their mouth and let Beel feed them.

“Oh, wow, this is pretty good.”

“I’m a good cook if I don’t eat the ingredients first.”

Belphegor: “I thought humans slept a lot when they got sick.”

The bags under the human’s eyes were almost as intense as they glare they gave him. When the rest of the brothers had begun arguing over something stupid, Belphegor had taken the opportunity to bundle them up and whisk them away to the peace and quiet of the attic. His intent had been to take a nice long nap with them, but apparently their lungs had a different plan.

“We should,” they groaned, sounding like their throat was made of sandpaper. “Every time I feel like I’m going to fall asleep, I start coughing.”

“That sounds counter-intuitive.”

“Tell me about it.”

Belphie rolled over so that he was lying on his side, facing them. “Well then, you picked a good nap partner.”

They blinked blearily up at him. “Why is that?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He reached out, tugging them towards him until they were settled comfortably against his chest with their head tucked beneath his chin. Although he wasn’t the tallest of the brothers, he had enough height to basically surround the human. “Can you hear my heartbeat?”

“I’m too tired for you cheesy lines, Belphie.”

“No, seriously, just listen.”

He could practically hear them roll their eyes, but they quieted down. Once he was sure they were synced up with the steady ba-bump, ba-bump of his heart, he began to work his magic - literally.

He brought his hand up to cup the back of their skull, fingertips tingling as he focused his magic their. They squirmed for a moment before sighing as the cool rush of Belphie’s special brand of sleep magic washed over them.

“I told you, being tired isn’t the prob - “

“Hush,” he murmured, letting them feel his voice rumble through his chest. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Belphie massaged their scalp like he was washing their hair, working his magic into their skin. Slowly but surely he felt them soften, the tightness in their chest easing. Finally, their slightly labored breathing evened out, and the poor human finally succumbed to sleep.

“About time,” he kissed the top of their head. “You need to rest if you want to get better, so let’s sleep as long as we like, okay?”

#seriously I just kept thinking about them taking care of my while I was sick #because even though I was sick I had to take care of my parents when they ended up getting it #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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glitterge1pen · 3 years

Text

When You Open A Pudding Cup Is It Loud?

tw; for general body injuries (once again nothing too explicit)

Keigo Takami x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 1,683

“It hurts”

“I know”

“It pisses me off”

“I know”

You move around the room, closing curtains but opening up windows. Wanting cool spring air, but not anyone to pry into the view of your apartment. The lights were off and only the sticky afternoon sun illuminated the room. Your tone with the currently exhausted man on your couch was between stern and affectionate. Like a sweet orange stinging a cut on the roof of someone's mouth.

Usually you were more attentive to Keigo when he wandered into your apartment like this. But today you had actually been able to catch the news. Coverage was relentless in showing the wounds on him. You had been in the shower during the height of whatever action was happening downtown, but you had seen enough.

You paced around your living room unable to turn the TV off, having to turn away to walk to your bedroom, to check the fridge, to make sure you turned the water off in the bathroom. You kept coming back to the TV. You thought about running out to where Keigo was. To drag him out there and onto an ambulance yourself. But you wouldn't make it in time.

He had been impaled with a knife of some sort fairly early in the fight. While the wound was at first, not as serious, Keigo had refused to back down, or stop, give himself a break, anything that would have allowed him to even attempt to try to help himself.

"You got any ice?"

You say nothing in response to him. When you grab the ice pack from the freezer you don't even hand it to him. You toss it sloppily onto his face.

"Hey! That fucking hurt!"

His voice is angry, confused, bitter, you grit your teeth and bite your tongue knowing you've done something wrong. You breathe in harshly, trying to steady your thoughts before opening your mouth. You don't want to do any more damage to him, that wasn't your intention.

"I shouldn't have done that"

You say as easily as you can, but your tone is flat and your lips are pressed into a tight line. Keigo lays with one arm off the couch, fingers pulling at the threads of carpet. His other arm is holding his injured side. It's been wrapped in bandages, he's been taken care of best he could have been by healthcare professionals. But there is still a battered look to him. His hair in disarray, bruises scattered over him, the blood dried on his lesser wounds.

The blood. If you close your eyes and seek out the scent you can smell it on him.

"Can you move the ice? I'm still pretty sore"

You do as he asks. When you move the ice you lay it down gently, making sure he's comfortable. You sit on the ground next to the couch. Your hand dancing around his in the carpet. He struggles to look at your hand so close to his. He settles for the ceiling.

"Are you mad at me or something?"

"Give me a second"

He does as you say. Waiting for you to speak. Eyes flicking to steal a glance at you and then back to the ceiling.

"I forget that this is how the world is sometimes. I've seen you beat up before. A lot. Remember when you got punched so hard part of your eyelid-

"Yeah, yeah, I remember, please don't make me relive that"

He says, relieved that you're loosening up into your usual self.

"I saw some of what happened today on the news."

This phrase of yours hangs in the air for longer than you want it to. Your next words are strained and you worry they give too much of yourself away.

"If things had gone a little differently, you wouldn't even be here,"

"I don't get it-"

"You don't"

You are firm. You are stating a fact, not retiring his point of view but opposing it. His eyes widen and he pushes himself up with his spare arm.

"If you had given yourself five minutes to get this,"

You poke at his side and he winces, breath racing through his teeth.

"Fixed up, you would have done better. If you had taken care of yourself better, things would have gone better"

He slowly lowers himself back down into the more comfortable position he was in before. You see his hand go to touch you, but it flicks down to the carpet again. You are afraid to move. You want to look at the kitchen stove, see how much time has passed, but you feel like moving will break the now peaceful silence. Keigo breaks it for you.

“I had it you know”

His words have their bite again. The puff of his voice. That playful prick of sound.

“Sure you did”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I had to help you get on the couch”

His hand softly smacks the back of your head. You briefly lean into the touch. For a second too long the contact remains. His hand awkwardly moves to rest in the little space between you, the edge of the couch, and his leg. When you speak you can feel his hand there.

You sit with him as the afternoon fades into evening. The stress and havoc of that morning fading. The more you talk with him you don't even notice how you lean to rest your head on his leg. How his hand will nip at your shoulder.

There is a lull in the conversation and Kiego takes the opportunity if you have anything for him to eat.

“Should you even be eating?”

His reply is mumbled and quiet but you do hear ‘soft foods’. In the kitchen you decide to put on some music as you rummage through the cabinets and fridge. You don't have much he can eat. You could mash up some fruit for him, or you could give him a pudding cup.

“Do you like pudding?”

You ask.

“Is it chocolate?”

“Yeah,”

“Then I like pudding”

You get him a spoon and a glass of water. Standing over him on the couch there is the daunting realization that this won't be easy for him. You could watch him struggle to eat and ask for your help, or you could just help him yourself.

“Hey what song is this?”

He says as he pushes himself into the corner of your couch where he can lazily sit up. His body doing its best to not disturb the heavy wrap of bandages on his side.

“I've shown you this band like a million times”

“Show it to me again”

He says feigning a clueless quirk of the voice. You open the cup of pudding and put it in his free hand but you keep the spoon.

“You don't have to feed me-”

He's so earnest here, like he doesn't want you to do it, like he's scolding himself for making you even think you have to.

“And how exactly were you planning on feeding yourself?”

He pulls his mouth into an actual clueless smile this time.

“I didn't think that far”

You dip the spoon into the pudding cup and bring it up to his mouth. He looks at you blankly.

“You have to open your mouth if you want to eat”

His teeth scrape against the spoon. You try to get more pudding but Keigo moves the cup this way, and then that way. A laugh blows into his face and now you're aware how close you had gotten to him. You pull back.

More aggressive with the spoon you stab the cup. Some of that bite gets onto his lips. You go to swipe it off but his tongue licks the spot at the same time.

“Keigo! Gross!”

He rolls his eyes dramatically. This happens several more times. Him trying to lick your hand or bite the spoon before you can pull it away. You try the best to act exasperated but you laugh still.The one time he does bite the spoon, it's so hard that the pain surprises him and he chokes on the bite of pudding.

“Shit that hurt,”

You don't let him catch his breath all the way, you shove another bite of pudding in his mouth. He struggles to suppress his smile and chocolate smears his mouth again. This time you get to it first, using the back of your hand to brush it away. You see him gulp down so hard you think he might have choked again.

“That was the last of it”

You take the empty pudding cup away from him and offer the water. He simply nods. He's less resistant to your help this time. He lets you hold the bottle to his lips, you tell yourself not to shake as you hold his chin in place. You're careful with the water titling the glass as needed. He's gulping it down though.

“Holy shit you were thirsty, why didn't you ask for water earlier? Do you want more?”

“Yes”

You fill up the glass of water again. You worry that he should have been here resting, sleeping, not chatting with you for hours. This time you don't even think about your hand on his face. That is until you see him looking at you. His expression was one you hadn't seen from him before. You pour the water a little too fast and he chokes again.

“Do you know how to eat food or-’

“Hey that time it was your fault!”

You finish giving him the rest of the water, pretending to be more meticulous in the pour while you try not to catch his eyes again. Now that he's been hydrated he looks somehow more tired, like his body had just been waiting for water before he fell asleep. You shut off the music. Stuff a pillow under his head. Drape him in a blanket. You're about to head into your own bedroom when his tired voice pulls your attention back.

“Thanks. Really, thanks”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: Having a physical form to exist in is the burden of both dead and living, anyways currently eating a fudge pop and trying to find good turnip prices in animal crossing. Also??? Me?? Posting on a week day??? What is this??? The beginning of a 2000s teen film were my life starts getting wacky and weird??? I need sleep jesus fucking christ. Peace and love or whatever they say <3

#hawks #hawks x reader #hawks fluff #bnha #mha #Keigo Takami x reader #keigo x reader #gender neutral reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha x reader

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floorbe · 3 years

Note

Mondo x reader where he overhears her reader talking to another classmate about him but they're being horny on main 👀👀 (idk who'd partake in this conversation except for Miu so non despair au ig ????)

yeah! reminder that even tho i wrote miu in this lil fic i dont write for miu for x reader stuff :^) suggestive content under the cut//

“Fuck, Miu, he’s so hot,” Mondo pauses by the door to the empty classroom as he hears your voice. With a grin cracking across his face (and a clench of his fists as he buries his jealousy) he silently presses himself against the wall beside the just barely cracked open door. He may be envious, but Lord knows he can use this information to tease you later and see you all flustered and shit. (And, man, do you look cute when you’re flustered.) “Did you see him climb out of the pool earlier? Nobody should be able to look that good with wet hair,” you lament, and he can hear Miu giggling.

He immediately searches his memory for the guys who were in class today. A lot of other guys are in your P.E. class, so it’s not as if the guessing pool has lowered by many. He sighs quietly, maybe you were talking about Leon? You always seemed to cheer him on when he’s swimming. Then again, he reasons, Leon is awful at swimming, so maybe you’re just motivating him.

"His hands are so big... I can already imagine them spreading my legs t-to take what he wants, y-y’know” he can hear the wanton whine to Miu’s voice, and he can imagine the dreamy look in her eyes as she drifts off into her fantasy. He’s expecting you to sputter and scold Miu for bringing it up; that’s what you do whenever he teased you suggestively, at least. A smile tugs at his lips at the memories.

“God, I know,” Mondo is snapped from his thoughts as he hears you sigh, and he has to hold back a grunt of surprise at the dreamy tone. Where was this side of you whenever he brought up sex? Come to think of it, have you ever said anything remotely sexual to him? You’d always get so embarrassed and punch his arm whenever he brought anything up.

“Have you seen his muscles, Miu? That man is strong enough to fuck me against a wall,” Mondo’s eyes widen drastically as he hears you talk so freely. He swallows thickly at your admission, and he can feel himself start to harden as he imagines what it would be like for him to be the one to do that to you. He shakes his head to clear the thoughts before he gets too ahead of himself. Okay, so it’s someone buff. That lowers the amount of people considerably.

Nekomaru is his top guess. He had come in today to help motivate swimmers into doing more laps, so it would check out that you’d seen him climb out of the pool. Not only that, but he’s visibly strong, so there’d be no way he wouldn’t be able to hold you up against a wall. A scowl stretches across his face as he entertains the idea briefly. He could do that, too. Jealousy starts to burn in his chest as he imagines you moaning out Nekomaru’s name. What does Nekomaru have that he doesn’t? He’s strong, he looks good with his hair down, his hands are-

“What about him fucking you on his bike?” Miu suddenly chimes in, a slight slur to her tone as if she’s imagining it already.

He pauses. Nekomaru doesn’t have a bike.

“Oh my God,” there’s a whine to your voice that he’s never heard before, and his breath hitches at it, “He wouldn’t, but that’s fucking hot.”

He can hear Miu scoff, “Yeah, Mondo cares way too much about his fuckin’ bike to defile it like that, huh?”

He swears his heart stops beating. His jaw drops as he feels flames engulf his cheeks, and he can’t even begin to stop the loud strangled exclamation that falls from his lips. Him? You were talking about him this entire time? You- you think he looks good with his hair wet? You want him to fuck you against a wall? Holy shit. Holy shit. You want him to fuck you on his bike. You want his hands to spread your-

“M-Mondo?!” He’s torn from his heavenly realization by your voice. His head snaps to see you and Miu; you have that cute flustered expression again, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek.

“What, you peeping on us, you fucking creep?!” Miu growls, and Mondo can’t help but quirk a brow, at her drastic change in behavior. She was just talking about fucking him, and now she’s on edge? He sees you fidget out of the corner of his eye and is brought back to the severity of the situation. Fuck, they’d just caught him eavesdropping on a conversation he definitely wasn’t meant to hear.

“Uh,” he swallows thickly, “...No?”

It’s silent for a moment. He has to tear his gaze away from you, and he shuffles his feet in an attempt to hide his very obvious arousal. Thank God his pants are baggy, because he really cannot get the thought of you moaning his name out of his head, especially now that you’re right in front of him.

“M-Miu, could you give us a second?” you ask, averting your gaze as she scoffs and nods, sending another glare towards Mondo as she stalks off. It’s silent for another moment as you bite your lip. He struggles to stop thinking about what it would be like to bite it for you.

“How... how much did you hear?” you finally force out.

“Ah,” a hand reaches to rub the back of his neck subconsciously, “...All of it?”

You immediately slap your hands over your face, groaning. “I’m so sorry, God, that must’ve been so creepy-” apologies are spilling from your lips, and before he comprehends it he’s cutting you off.

“Did you mean it?” his eyes widen as he stiffens, did he really just ask that out loud? He did not mean to ask that out loud. “Sh-shit, uh, sorry, you don’t have’ta-”

“Yeah,” you suddenly admit; your hands have slipped to cover your mouth, allowing your eyes to meet his as he abruptly cuts off. He can see you just barely shaking as he processes it. You actually want him to fuck you. Jesus Christ, he is so turned on right now. Your eyes suddenly flick away, and he realizes he’s taken too long to respond.

Before you have a chance to say anything, he finds an impulsive courage and steps forward to sling his arms around you, leaning to press his forehead against yours shakily. He swallows thickly as you look at him almost shyly, eyes wide and hands coming down to lightly grasp his coat. Any confidence he had fizzles and dies.

He licks his lips as he summons every last bit of suaveness and cockiness he can find within himself (which is... not a lot, because you’re very good at leaving him speechless and stupid). Steady breaths, keep your voice smooth, and... “I-I wouldn’t m-mind doing that shit with you!” Well, that wasn’t quiet. He winces both at his painfully awkward phrasing and at the way you jump at his sudden exclamation.

“...Seriously?” you nearly whisper, and he’s suddenly hyper aware of how close your lips are.

“Y-yeah,” his voice breaks mid word, but neither of you notice as your eyes flick to his lips. He cautiously leans forward, breath hitching as he watches your eyes slide shut. Your lips meet, and he’s sure that you can feel him shaking, but he ignores it as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. Your lips meld together, and Mondo swears he’s ascended into heaven or something, because nothing has ever felt more right than this.

He presses himself closer to you, tightening his grip on you as you sigh against his lips. He pulls back when you suddenly grunt, and he worries he’s gone too far until he sees you grinning. “Mondo,” you start slowly, and he’s vaguely aware of how there’s an undertone of smugness in your voice, “So, uh, what’s poking me right now?”

Poking y-? Oh. Oh no. Your grin widens as he feels his cheeks heat up for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. One of your hands slides down to grab his hand, and he swallows thickly as you draw back to tug him down the hall, a wicked glint in your eyes that tells him that you’ll be fulfilling all of the daydreams you’ve had about him.

#suggestive//#n*sw//#mondo oowada #mondo oowada x reader #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa scenario #danganronpa #thh #Anonymous

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its-kall-the-clown · 3 years

Note

14 Fluff for Red Son realizing he's nursing a crush on MK

As some context this is post redemption for the demon bull family. So Mei, MK, and Red hang out a lot together now. Red Son is also an idiot. XD

Also this isn’t my most polished work so sorry if it feels rushed.

prompt list

Stop that!! (Don't stop)

Rating: PG-13 for implied sexual interactions

"I think I'm sick"

Red Son admits to the ceiling of Mei's room. They were hanging out like they normally did on days MK was training with monkey king. She was playing some sort of retro video game and he was watching till he got bored and lay on her bed thinking.

"You got a tummy ache?" Mei teased, pausing her game and he huffs rolling his eyes, and sits up.

"Don't be ridiculous" he huffs out and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Okayyyy so what're the symptoms." Mei crawls from her spot on the floor and joins him in bed, sitting crisscrossed with her hand in her lap, and leaning forward eagerly.

"It's hard to explain… sometimes when MK is gone my chest hurts " he places a hand over his heart that was beating normally at the moment.

"And sometimes, when he's around, my hands get sweaty and it feels like I'm gonna throw up and…." He watches a wide unlearning Cheshire grin grow across his friend's face. He continues on, albeit, a bit more hesitantly.

"And….sometimes I can't talk right, and sometimes when he IS around my chest hurts also?" Mei was grinning so wide she was more teeth than she was girl.

"Why are you smiling…."

"OMFG!!?? You have a crush on Mk?!!!" She squeaks excitedly and rolls around in her back as she descends into what Red can only describe as absolute madness.

"What are you talking about??!" He sputters, Mei giggles a bit longer before finally pulling together and greeting him with a wide grin.

"Dude. Your like SO gay for him. 'My HeARt hUrTs WhEn hE’s not arOuNdddd~ " she mocks him in a fake tone and he growls hitting her with a pillow..

"Stop that!" He growls.

"SToP ThAt~" she mocks back and they devolve into a pillow fight on her bed. He girns when he hits her smug face squarely with a dragon stuffie.

Soon they lay panting on her bed and the dragon girl rolls onto her stomach poking him in the face.

"So. Crushing in MK huh?"

He grows beat red again and pulls a pillow into his face and groans.

"You should tell him."

Red son sits up with a smile.

"I should!"

"Yes!!"

"So I can tell him to stop making me sick!"

"Say what now?"

He turns to Mei with a feral smile. This 'crush' or whatever she called it could be fixed. If MK was the one giving it to him. He just needed MK to stop doing...whatever he was doing to make him feel like this.

"Hold on I think you are conf-"

"Thanks Mei!" He gets up and is off to confront the noodle boy as he hears Mei shout at him from her room.

"You're a fucking idiot!!!"

-----------

He storms forward like a typhoon. Red son is a force of nature that can not be stopped, nothing could yield him in his goal or hinder him in his path. Wild horses pulling chariots could not stop him, celestials in heaven would not dare stand in his way, and even his parents (by far the scariest force of all) could not persuade him to rethink what he was doing.

He pushes past the doors to Pigsy's noodles, shoves past patrons and ignores the warning shouts from the pigman.

he had one goal on mind

"Nyyyooodle boy!!!!!!" He bellows grabbing the attention to his problem. Those perfect expression color eyes meet him and the disease in his chest grows. He's in his training clothes, clearly on his way up to his apartment over the shop so he can shower.

Why did the idea of MK showering make his heartbeat erratically? Soft shoulders and cascading water off them…

She shakes his head back and forth now back on track.

"Stop. That." He growls out grinding his teeth together as steam leaves his ears. MK tilts his head slightly. The disease grows more in his chest and he hates it.

"Stop that!!!!" He points directly at MK feeling his hair sputter and spark as his temperature rises. He thinks his face is growing red.

"I'm….not doing anything?" MK gives him a sheepish smile, the kind that quirks up on one side and absolutely obliterates Red Son on the spot.

Like a crunchy fall leaf under the heel of a boot he's crushed.

Whatever motivation he had before it evaporates quicker than a drop of water in the Sahara desert.

"Y-your haven't heard the last of me!!" He makes a quick retreat, stumbling over his own feet and taking out one of Pigsy's tables in the process.

He exits the shop faster than he entered. He needed to regroup and strategize.

-----------

"SoooOOOOOo How'd it go?" Mei asked her eyes not leaving the screen, she's playing a different video game now, and she didn't even spare him a glance when he came back as if she predicted he would fail.

"Horrible!!! All it did was make this sickness worse." He throws his arms up and paces back and forth biting his lip. Mei doesn't pause her game this time, only continuing to mash buttons as he grumbles under his breath.

She lets out A long-suffering sigh and finally pauses her game.

"Dude. I know you're behind on the lingo and stuff but a 'crush' isn't a sickness. It means you like MK. As in you want to kiss him and stuff." she explains with a shrug unpausing her game and the sound of power-ups and pixelated men punching each other continues.

Red Son halts in his tracks

He pictures kissing MK. pressing his lips to the boy's soft adorable lips. He can practically feel the warmth it would produce. He pictures MK smiling into the kiss as they awkwardly bump noses. He pictures holding MK’s hand, squeezing it gently as they walk hand and hand. He imagines the feeling of MK’s hair between his fingers as he runs his hands through it.

He sucks in a gasp, his heart beating out of time.

Of fuck.

“I’m so screwed…..”

He feels Mei patting his shoulder, she paused her game again when he was fantasizing

“Yeah, you are. But at least now you can DO something about it.” she nudges his side and he blushes a bright red and he can hear her chuckling at him

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

“Can we talk?”

MK blinks back at him looking back and forth for a moment as if he was confused by his precence. Which to be fair he DID just enter through MK’s window while he was showering and was now waiting for him on his bed.

“Uhhhhh sure?” they rub the last remaining moisture from his hair with a towel before tossing it to the floor to be added to piles of laundry they had yet to do. Red Son didn't even curl his lip up at the slob-like behavior because HOLY SHIT MK IS SHIRTLESS!!!

Of course, MK didn't even seem to care that he was only wearing grey sweatpants in his presence. Red Son guilty looked MK’s chest up and down while they searched for a sleep shirt. Working out with Monkey King has been paying off because MK was sporting some muscle. He also had a few scars from battles that only added to how attractive he was, and of course, there were the two faint top surgery scars under his pecks.

“Is this about your weird episode in the shop today?” they asked pulling him from his guilt ogling and MK pulled a shirt over his body. Damn what a shame.

“Mei says I have something called a ‘crush’ and I should ‘tell them how I feel’ in order to make the pain in my chest go away,” he explained using quotation marks with his fingers to punctuate himself. MK’s eyes widen slightly and then it's schooled quickly. They join Red Son on the bed.

“O-oh? Have you told them?” MK squirms in place and keeps his gaze cast down. He looks uncomfortable, no. he looks upset? Why would MK be upset? Was it because he broke into his room again without permission?

No not that. Although he will have to apologize later

“I’m working on that part,” he explains scooting closer to MK and he grabs one of their hands gently. This felt stupid, and he thinks his sickness will kill him with how quickly his heart is beating. He was terrified and all his symptoms were amplified by ten.

He looks into MK’s espresso-colored eyes looking for something. He loved those eyes. They showed so much in them and he SWORE they could change the whole lighting of a room.

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water with his false starts. Eventually, he clears his throat and releases his confession.

“Umm well...MK. I h-have a crush on you.”

he shuts his eyes and waits for the rejection, waits to hear MK laugh with their head back and shove him away.

None of that comes.

He peaks an eye open to find MK’s face a bright scarlet red. Was that a good sign? Or was MK so angry at him that he was just building up anger inside of him like a volcano ready to blow.

“ I w-will leave now.” he pulls away ready to retreat with at least his dignity still in tack. He's pulled back violently and soft lips are smashed to his. He lets out a surprised whimper and absolutely melts into the feeling. His brain is electrified and static all at once.

He kisses back hungrily grabbing MK by the waist and pulls him closer. When they are running out of air only does MK pull away with a little breathless gasp.

“Stay the night?” They requested, placing a soft kiss to the juncture of his neck and he can’t find a single cell in his body that would possibly say no. He nods numbly and MK kisses him again a smile on his lips that he could taste.

----------

“MK GET UP! YOU ARE LATE AGAIN!!”

Pigsy burst down the door jolting the demon awake from his peaceful slumber, his arms that were previously wrapped around MK pull away quickly in the process. He thinks he could stick to the ceiling with his claws like a cat in a cartoon if he jolted just a little higher.

The covers are yanked off them both before Red Son even has time to protest. Thank gods they both put underwear back on when they finished satisfying each other. Red Son is completely and thoroughly exposed to MK’s boss, bitemarks, and hickes across his chest snitching on him.

Red Son and Pigsy meet eyes and he feels a sweat break out across his neck. Pigsy sighs and pinches his snout. He sucks in a deep breath and lets it out through his nose.

“I don't know what happened here... And I don't WANT to know. Tell MK he’s got ten minutes to get downstairs.” Pigsy turns on his heel and leaves slamming the door behind him. Red Son looks over to his now-boyfriend who’s mouth hangs open with drool dripping down his face.

MK slept through all of it.

He can’t help but chuckle and kiss their forehead gently.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #MK #Red Son #spicynoodleshipping #Red Son may not be the sharpest cookie in the box #thats it. thats the sentance #wrtting prompts #prompt ask

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saintchrollo · 3 years

Note

Heeey saw your requests were open so here I go:

Reader is part of the phantom troupe and wears a mask to keep themselves anonymous to the public and others is in the criminal world but even in the troupe they’ve never taken it off and reader has always been close to chrollo and he’s been curious but never says anything until-DUN DUN DUN-reader had gotten into quite the battle and her mask breaks forcing her to come back to the hideout bare and holy shit- she’s gorgeous- what-when-what would his reaction be?? Or the rest of the troupes?

Ok I know that’s a bit cliche but it’s one of the good ones. Whether you write this or not is fine also I love your blog aaaaand yeah remember to keep yourself hydrated cause high lighter colored piss ain’t cute honey your better than that take care of yourself🌸

omg i absolutely ADORE this idea omg

At least I’m not returning empty handed, You remind yourself as you open the door to the Troupe’s Hideout. You had successfully obtained the documents in question, but not before your mask was broken.

Ever since you had begun your criminal life, you had donned a fox mask to keep your face hidden. It was easier when your employers couldn’t see your actual facial expressions. Without it, you felt naked.

You enter the Hideout and keep your head up as you pass everyone, heads turning. Every Troupe member seemed to have frozen, watching your epxosed face with shock. It took everything in you to not nervously play with your fingers as you approached Chrollo. He was sitting with his head in a book, like normal, oblivious to the change in atmosphere.

“Boss,” You clear your throat, getting him to lift his head up from his book. Expectancy washes off his face.

“[First]?” His eyebrows raise.

Ignoring his question, you hand over the USB chip. “Here’s all the stuff you were looking for.”

His fingertips brush over yours as he takes the USB from you.

“Did you run into any trouble?” Chrollo asks, face emotionless and cold like normal. His eyes didn’t leave your face, cataloguing the new information with great interest.

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?” You ask. “Obviously, I did. But I handled it, so it’s fine.”

“I can see that,” Chrollo agrees with you. A small smile pokes out the corner of his mouth for a brief moment. He shuts his book with a snap and uses his fingers to extinguish the candle next to him. Standing, he looks around the room, addressing the Spiders. “I’m going to take [First] to get a new mask. While I am gone, Machi is in charge.”

As the two of you head out, you throw up a middle finger in the direction of Phinks, who was maturely making a call me sign.

chrollo definitely replaces said mask

he also is quick to make sure you understand you are not obligated to wear the mask

i think he’d be respectful of the mask though and not draw attention to the fact that you wore one-- obviously there’s a reason that you aren’t willing to share yet and he desperately wants to know.

you definitely start spending a lot more time with chrollo and the rest of the troupe doesnt let him hear the end of it because his fascination with you is now a full on crush and its painfully obvious lmao

#nonnie #mailbox #chrollo x reader #ophelia.req #ophelia.fic #q

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gleegirlimagines · 4 years

Text

Getting the Girl

The Titans were in need of a kicker after Kurt quit the team. If you asked her, that was the reason Y/N was trying out. If you asked Matt, Mike, or Puck, the reason she was trying out was to finally shut Finn Hudson up once and for all. The oaf had made Y/N his latest target to pick on. Mainly because he knew of her crush on his girlfriend Quinn. He liked to rub it in her face that HE was dating her and not Y/N. She couldn't take any more of it. So she decided that she was gonna be McKinley's next kicker.

Puck, Mike, and Matt had tried to talk Y/N out of it but to no avail. So, being the good friends they are, they decided to help Y/N. As they took to the field to help her practice, Sue and the Cheerios had made their way out to do their cardio for the day. The group on the field failed to notice a certain head cheerleader watching them practice along with Santana and Brittany. "Ah, so looks like Y/N is trying out for the team. That's hot." Santana said. Brittany giggled and agreed. "Do you think she'll help me achieve my perfect record of making out with everyone at school?" Quinn's head whipped around. "What?" "Yeah. I have a list of everyone I've made out with and she's not on it. It would mean a lot if she said yes." Quinn shook her head in disbelief before going back to watching the group. Suddenly, a voice called out from behind them. "Hey babe!" Quinn mentally groaned as Santana did it loudly for her. Finn walked up to the trio smiling. He leaned down to kiss Quinn but she turned her head, making him collide with her cheek. "Brittany, Santana." Santana gave him a fake smile as Brittany did the same. "I'm gonna go ask her."

Before Quinn could protest, both Santana and Brittany ran off in the direction of Y/N and the boys. Finn looked where the girls where headed and scoffed. "What's that freak doing out here?" Quinn glared at him. "She's trying out for your team. You need a kicker do you not?" Finn's jaw dropped. "Yeah. But we don't need a fucking dyke on our team. People aren't gonna take us seriously!" He whined. Quinn sighed. "Finn. They don't take you seriously now. What makes you think that's gonna change if a girl joins the team?" Finn groaned. "I'm gonna go give her a piece of my fucking mind. Dykes don't belong on the team." Finn stormed off as Quinn followed after him.

Y/N was talking to Santana and Brittany about things when Finn walked up to them. "Finnocence. Can't you see me and B are trying to seal the deal here?" Finn glared at the two. "And I don't give a flying fuck Lopez. I'm more worried about the fact that there's a dyke freak trying out for my team." Y/N rolled her eyes. "Because you guys suck and need a kicker. That's where I step in Hudson because obviously you can't lead us to a win." Finn scoffed. "I'm the best quarterback this school has ever had. And if you're only trying out for kicker, then why are you also throwing the ball around? It's called kicker, not quarterback." Puck spoke up. "Because idiot, we know Tanaka is gonna test her other skills. And maybe, if we're lucky, he might realize that she's a better quarterback than you."

Finn lunged at the mohawked boy before Y/N shoved him back. "Leave the fucking field Finn. We're done talking to you." He glared at her before turning to Quinn. "Let's go." Quinn stood there not moving. "Quinn. Let's go!" Quinn put on her ice queen glare and turned to the boy. "No Finn. I still have stuff to do. You can go." Finn stood in shock and stormed off to his car. Santana and Brittany looked at Y/N. They were extremely turned on. "So Y/N, does our offer still stand?" Y/N smirked. "Totally." Both Brittany and Santana kissed her cheek before running off.

Puck slapped Y/N on the shoulder. "Good for you dude." Y/N smirked before looking at Quinn who was glaring at her. "What Fabray? Jealous?" Quinn glared at the girl before running off. Matt spoke up. "What's got her panties in a bunch?" Y/N shrugged. "I don't know. Let's get back to practice though."

Y/N followed the boys to their locker room to get their stuff. No one was at school so it would be fine and Y/N was already cool with the team. When they all walked in, they heard groaning and moaning. They all looked at each other and poked their heads around the column of lockers to find a shocking scene.

Finn Hudson was fucking a cheerleader that wasn't Quinn Fabray. All four people witnessing was shocked. Y/N felt anger course through her veins. How dare this idiot cheat on Quinn. Y/N pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures and videos before all four of them hauled ass out of the locker room.

They ran all the way to Y/N's car. "Holy fuck. What the fuck just happened?" Y/N was still shocked. Puck was angry. "He's a fucking idiot for cheating on her. She needs to know. Hey, maybe if you tell her Y/N she'll give you a chance!" Y/N looked at him. "Are you serious Puck? Really?"

Two days later, after a successful tryout on Y/N's part, pictures of Finn and the girl fucking in the locker room were posted all over the school. Y/N was standing at her locker getting her books when Santana and Brittany walked up to her. "So. We had fun at Breadstix last night. You're actually really cool." Y/N smiled at the girls. "Thank you Santana. And Brittany I hope your record is now perfect." The blonde smiled and nodded. "All thanks to you. Also, have you seen Quinn? I wanna check up on her." Y/N shook her head. "No. It sucks though. Finn is an idiot." Santana nodded. "But hey, you get to have a chance with her." Y/N giggled and shut her locker. "You're starting to sound like Puck." The three walked off to class, not knowing that two people had overheard their conversation.

Y/N was walking to class texting Puck about the game when she was yanked into an empty classroom. "Hey what the fu-!" She was cut off by a hand on her mouth. "Shhh or we'll get in trouble." Y/N finally processed who yanked her in the room. "Quinn?" The blonde smiled at the girl and took her hand off her mouth. "Hi." Y/N smiled at the girl's shyness. "Hi. What's going on? Why did you yank me in here?" Quinn didn't say anything and just pressed her lips against Y/N's. Y/N kissed back almost instantly. The pair pulled away when air was a necessity. "I broke it off with Finn. I wanted to thank you for those pictures." Y/N stuttered before Quinn cut her off again. "Puck told me after I grilled him about it." Y/N's jaw dropped. "That snitch." Quinn giggled. "No. You should thank him. By the way, I'm gonna be cheering for you and only you tonight." She walked off swaying her hips as Y/N watched mesmerized. God, she couldn't wait for tonight.

The game was going awful. Every time Y/N stepped onto the field, Finn would do something to get her tackled. She was hurting all over and Coach kept yelling at Finn and Y/N was getting stressed. She sat on the bench cradling her ribs after a particularly hard hit when Quinn snuck up behind her. "What's up with Finn? Why is he putting you in situations where you're getting hurt?" Y/N shrugged and groaned. "I don't know." Puck ran up to Y/N after coming off the field. "He found out you took and posted the pictures. One of our teammates saw us posting them and overheard us talking about catching Finn in the act." Quinn gasped. Y/N sat shocked. "Fuck."

The game just got worse. Y/N got tackled time and time again much to the amusement of Finn. Tanaka called a timeout during the second quarter. "Hudson what the fresh HELL are you doing out there?! You're killing our kicker!" Finn smirked and sat back on the bench. "Well coach, some people need to be taught a lesson. I'm just doing my job." Tanaka's face turned red. "Did you just blatantly admit that you're doing this shit on purpose?" Finn blanched. "U-um no?" Tanaka pulled him up by his jersey. "YOURE BLOWING THIS GAME FOR US BECAUSE YOU GOT CAUGHT FUCKING SOMEONE ELSE?!" The team snickered at how scared Finn looked. "Y/L/N! You're playing quarterback for the rest of the game. Jameson! You're taking Y/N's place as kicker! Get back on the field!"

Y/N as quarterback was going great. She had managed to get the Titans back in the lead without a dance to distract the other team. Y/N could see Finn sitting on the bench fuming. Behind the bench however was a much better sight. Quinn smiling her million dollar Cheerio smile while yelling for the Titans. God, she was falling for this girl. Hard and fast.

The Titans ended up winning much to everyone's satisfaction (except Finn's). As Y/N was getting changed in the girl's locker room, the door swung open to reveal the oaf in question. Y/N rolled her eyes. "What do you want Hudson?" He glared at the girl. "I want you gone. Off the team. Away from my girl." Y/N smirked. "From what I've heard, she's not really your "girl" anymore." Finn saw red as he swung and connected with the girl's jaw. He only managed to get one hit in before Tanaka was bursting in pulling him off the girl and out of the locker room. Puck, Mike, and Matt helped the girl up. "Damn dude. He really packs a punch." Y/N shrugged. "I'll be okay."

Y/N had her bag on her shoulder as her and the boys headed out of the locker room. Mike had been nice enough to get her some ice for her jaw. As she walked holding the ice against her face, she caught Quinn's eye. She was standing with her parents hoping to introduce them to Y/N. At the sight of Y/N's jaw, she gasped, dropped her Cheerio bag and ran towards the girl. Y/N jumped at the blonde girl suddenly appearing in front of her. "What happened to your jaw? Was it one of their players? I'll kick their ass." Y/N chuckled at the girl's worry. "It wasn't one of their players Q. It was your ex. He ambushed me in the locker room saying that he wanted me off the team and away from you. I'm okay."

Hazel eyes filled with fury as she called Santana and Brittany over. The two suddenly appeared. "What's up Q?" "I want Finn slushied and dumpster tossed for the rest of forever." Y/N went to protest but Quinn put her hand up. "No. He deserves it after all he did to you." Santana smirked. "Aye aye Cap." The two smiled at Y/N before walking off. "I was hoping to introduce you to my parents. They want to meet you." Y/N froze. "Your p-parents?" Quinn smiled at the girl's nervousness before pecking her lips. "Yes. My parents." "Ah, so this is the famous Y/N Quinnie?" Y/N looked behind Quinn to find a blonde woman who looked identical to Quinn standing next to a tall, blonde man. "Yes. Mom, dad, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, this is Judy and Russell Fabray."

Y/N smiled as best as she could before wincing. "Oh dear. What happened to your face?" Judy cupped Y/N's face. Quinn's eyes darkened. "Finn happened. He ambushed her on the locker room. Y/N is the one who caught him cheating on me." Russell spoke up. "Well I'm glad you caught him Y/N. He didn't deserve my daughter anyway. Now Y/N, my Quinnie has spoken very highly of you. What are your intentions with my daughter?" Y/N looked at Quinn. "To love and appreciate her for as long she'll have me. If your concern with me sir is if I'll treat her better than Finn, then you don't have to worry because I will." Judy and Quinn looked at the girl with shining eyes. Russell smiled and held out his hand. "Welcome to the family Y/N." Y/N smiled and shook his hand. Quinn wrapped her arms around the taller girl's waist, burying her head in her chest. "Can we go home and watch a movie and cuddle?" Y/N smiled and leaned down to peck Quinn's lips.

"Lead the way baby girl."

#quinn fabray x reader #glee imagine #quinn fabray #finn hudson #santana lopez #brittany s pierce #noah puckerman #mike chang #matt rutherford

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silvercrystalwhump · 3 years

Text

Sometimes you get called a Bitch at 6 AM

(Vincent and Kauri belong to @ashintheairlikesnow and Dmitri belongs to me)

This is based on an ask for Ash on her page. I decided to write a thing on it. Just cause tiredKauri is just mwah.

Vincent at his dark granite counters, whisking at some batter for pancakes. He did not have to be anywhere until noon today since the Director wants night scenes today. Since Dmitri had to be at his shop, Vincent thought to make him pancakes before he left. It is a quiet morning. Vincent can hear the morning bird chirping their little hearts out outside.

Everything is nice and quiet.

Then, his phone rings.

Vincent presses the answer call on his phone and brings to his ear, "Hello, Shield speaking."

"Bitch."

"Oh hello Kauri, How was your morning?"

"Fuck you, I need your help," Kauri says, voice slightly groggy from sleep most likely. Vincent can hear the sound of water running in the background and the tapping of a shoe on the floor.

Vincent tosses in some chocolate chips and holds the phone between his ear and his shoulder, "Whatcha need?"

"This stupid fucking fine, I can't pay for it and if I tell Nat she might have my neck and Jake is still drugged up on the damned futon that almost closed on him two fucken' days ago!"

Vincent sprinkles a bit of oil on the pan and turns the volume down on his phone a little before replying, "Futon? Did something happen because I'm fairly certain he has a bed because I bought Nat one for Christmas a few years back and she said that she didn't need one so she gave it to Jake."

Kauri rustles something and the sound of probably pots and pans falling onto the floor resonates through the phone. HE listens to Kauri hiss out curses as he shoves stuff away.

Vincent just flips one of the pancakes he poured. Leaning over and starting the coffee, he slides out a few things onto the counter for Dmitri and eventually himself. "Did something happen with Jake?"

"Shut the fuck up for a second!" Kauri snaps before muttering, "Why does Antoni insist on rearranging the whole kitchen once a month." Some more rustling later and Vincent glances over at the clock on the wall, 6:14 am.

Why is Kauri up this early?

Vincent sets the oven to warm and slides his plate inside and Kauri rips apart the house through the phone. Once the noise dies down on Kauri's end, Vincent asks, "What's the fine?"

"Something about unlawful protesting and trespassing but I wasn't even on the damn premises for crying out loud. Fifteen hundred dollars over some fucking fliers and some spite. I should've decked him!" Kauri rants as he walks around and goes through a door, "Fifteen hundred dollars!"

Vincent sets some of the pans quietly in the sink. Then, the sound of tumbling down the stairs and a groan rips his eyes upward. Dmitri stumbles off the stairs and props an arm up on the table.

"I hate your fucking stairs," Dmitri groans as he slides into the chair next to him.

Vincent stifles a laugh and slides the pancakes towards Dmitri, "Good morning, I'm on the phone I'll be back in a minute." Vincent grabs his coffee and steps out into the living room.

It's quiet on the other end for a moment before Kauri chuckles, "Who's that~"

Vincent sighs, feeling the curious mockery he through phone, "Nobody important."

"Nononononono that's not how that works. When NAt told me you were becoming more like me every time she saw you I thought she was joking," Kauri chuckles, "Apparently she was not."

"Kauri..."

He hears Kauri laugh on the end of the phone and the sound of a couch creaking, "So tell me, was he good?"

Vincent takes a sip of his coffee and shakes his head, "He's not a hookup, Kauri. He's just a friend."

"Hey, I'm not judging. Out of my," Kauri pauses, "Alot of hookups most of them I didn't even know their name. So I get it."

"He's not a hookup Kauri, I'm telling you the truth," Vincent mumbles, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Do you want me to send Nat the money so she can help you with that or what?"

"Somebodies in denial," Kauri sing-songs, "If he's not tell me his name."

"It's not important Kauri, who do you want me to send the money to or do you want to give me your transfer numbers for your bank," Vincent groans as he leans back into his couch.

"I'll send them later, so what's his---" Kauri says as the sound of knocking dances through the phone "---Who the fuck is here at six in the morning?" Footsteps are followed by, "Laken? What are you doing here?"

"To apologize, for the argument," Vincent hears their voice through the phone.

Vincent looks up to see Dmitri leaning over the couch above him. He gives his tall boyfriend a drowsy smile and pulls the phone away from his ear. Dmitri places a kiss on Vincent's forehead and whispers, "I know you're busy but I'm headed out and I'll call you when I get back."

Vincent smiles, "Looking forward to it."

He returns the phone t his ear to listen to the tail end of, "-He's not even awake yet Laken. Something happened yesterday because he fell asleep with Jake so have a blanket and sleep on the couch I'll wake you when Chris' awake."

Kauri sighs and Vincent can hear him walking up the stairs. Kauri starts a computer and Vincent listens to an old chair creak under Kauri's weight.

"So, Mr. InDenial, what's his name then, Hmmm?" Kauri pokes.

Vincent buckles slightly, "Dmitri." He immediately regrets letting the word slip off his tongue.

"You hooked up with a guy named Dmitri, so was he any good?"

Vincent, now bending under annoyance and tiredness, spills, "No Kauri, he's my boyfrie--- why is this important?"

There's quiet behind the phone and then Kauri laughs, "You. A boyfriend. Holy shit! That... was not something I thought you were capable off."

"Ouch," Vincent mutters, "Please don't tell anyone, we're trying to keep this on the down low, please."

Vincent can figuratively see Kauri rolling his eyes, "Why would you need to do that? Publicity?"

"Publicity is the least of my concerns when it comes to that," Vincent whispers, his voice lowing unconsciously.

Once again, the ear-splitting silence echos through the phone before, "Almost forgot about him."

"Yeah."

The sound of the keyboard clicking brings Vincent back from his memories and into his living room. Vincent's fingers wrap around the edge of one of his pillows and his knuckles whiten.

"I pulled up my details, let me find the routing number- Jake what are you doing out of bed!" Kauri quietly yells.

Jake says something but the words don't register through the phone.

Kauri sounds annoyed when he answers, "I've already dealt with it, get your ass back in bed. I'll join you when I'm done with this bullshit. No- Go back to bed."

Vincent sets down the phone so Kauri can tell Jake what to do in peace. He exhales and now really wants Dmitri to come back.

"I don't know how Jake does this shit, every damn day," Vincent hear Kauri groan through the phone. He picks it back up and listens, "Getting up every day at the ass crack of dawn... and this isn't even the hardest part of the day and I already wanna sleep."

"Yeah," Vincent says breathless, "I can't imagine having to care for that many people. Hell, I can barely for the couple I have."

I can barely care for myself.

"Nat's gone dealing with Jameson. Jake was fucking stabbed! Chris is off in college and back for some reason, something happened too. Laken just materialized. Antoni hasn't been acting right and- fuck I just need a break," Kauri says, "I'm not good at being the one everyone relies on."

Vincent sighs, "It's not fun, having to worry about so many people and, at the same time, them worrying about you. I can't really help you directly with that but I know a place that doesn't ask questions. They serve coffee and scones there and, if you want, I can get you coffee one morning. To get away from the madness for a morning."

Kauri says nothing for a moment. A few breaths pass before Vincent hears a mouse click.

"No."

Click.

A second later, Vincent receives a text with a handful of numbers. He makes a mental note to send over the money as soon as possible. Standing up, he walks back to the kitchen and grabs his breakfast.

Kauri stayed on his mind for a while after that.

#vincent shield #dmitri o'brian #vince tries #kauri is also trying #just at something different

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 4 years

Text

Alright alright alright

You’ve all been asking for it, so here it is!

This will be (edit: HELLA) long and obviously spoiler-y, so everything is under a cut.

Are you ready?

Before we get to it, I want to mention that for the sake of keeping things organized, I will NOT be talking about my AU (@ask-whitepearl-and-steven) in this post. I want to just analyze the show as a viewer and a fan first. I’ll make a seperate post for AU-thoughts a bit later.

Without further ado:

EP 1: LITTLE HOMESCHOOL

This is a great way to open up the episode and show the changes through the lens of someone who has been a bit out of it for a while (we are all Cherry Quartz, fresh from the hiatus, aren’t we?) but I’m sorry, this post still takes the cake:

Okay, okay, back to the program.

“That used to be a loaded question...“

Right off the bat, Steven is SO much more confident about saying that he’s... HIMSELF! What a good feeling. I’m very proud of our boy.

I love the name “Gemglyph” for the gem language! I’ll need to know who wrote these, though. And who the heck drew the diamonds? Hopefully it was BP.

And I’m not the first one to point this out, but MORE ANIME REFERENCES!

Which can be seen as either a reference to the Chill Low-Fi Hiphop Beats to Study To OR Whisper of the Heart.

And absolutely no one cares but something that caught my eye is the fact that they have an EARTH FLAG at Little Homeschool! How cool is that!

Earth 4ever!!!

Off-note - I love how INVESTED they are in this conversation Pearl is having with Holo-Pearl.

Peak entertainment.

I love Professor Amethyst and I love the random human who snuck in to apparently take lessons on Not Giving A Single Shit About Anything, Ever.

And here we FINALLY are in the FUTURE

Where we FINALLY get Jasper as a functioning character

And

She’s

SO DRAMATIC, I LOVE HER.

This is literally SO funny like she... she was just... laying on top of her house... under a blanket..... FOr WHAT? To stand up dramatically and throw it off when Steven inevitably paid a visit?

Is that just what she dOES?

“It’s FINE I don’t need any HELP, I’m FUNCTIONING, I’m just having a SELF CARE DAY OK”

Also I’m sorry but

Jasper: “It took forever to yank those puny green earthlings out of the ground.”

Steven: “You mean grass...?“

THIS. RIGHT HERE. is peak Jasper.

It’s also curious how INVESTED Steven is in this:

“I’m TRYING to give you [a purpose]!“

Why are you... trying to do that, though? Isn’t the whole idea for gems to surpass their ‘purpose’ and just kinda... do whatever? Isn’t Jasper just kinda... doing whatever?

I mean, sure, it’s not useful to anyone, but she seems relatively happy. Aside from. You know. The whole laying on rocks under blankets until she’s disturbed thing and-- okay, you’re right, maybe an intervention would be healthy.

I’m not gonna talk at length about the rest of the episode - although I think it’s really good, I don’t know what I can say about it that hasn’t already been said. Jasper is definitely poking Steven’s buttons and rephrasing a LOT of what WHITE has said to Pink: “You surround yourself with inferior gems because it makes you feel better.”

And Steven REACTS to this. The taunt WORKS.

And yes, he gains some extra powers for it, but something tells me this AIN’T the only thing he will get. It feels like a two-edged sword. Like it’ll be his own downfall somehow....... maybe at the end of the series.

Ashes to ashes.... hole to hole.

And oh wow I thought they were gonna bond but LMAO

“Consider your fight back there your first and ONLY lesson.“

Basically:

I love you Jasper.

EP 2: GUIDANCE

I LOVE YOU AMETHYST.

sHE’S doing SO much and she’s SO good at it!! Look at her!! Organizing stuff!!!!

RUBIES IN SUNGLASSES. IN SQUARE SUNGLASSES.

I need 20.

And I also need 20 of Larimar because holy shit that’s hilarious.

Larimar: “I want to hear the human screams forever.”

Steven: “Okay that’s kinda troubling.”

I love the reference to Monsters Inc here and I love the callback at the end of the episode when Larimar switches to Human Laughter to get her fill of that particular erm... need.

And honestly the ensuing chaos is equally predictable and entertaining.

I’m SO glad to know that Rubies are just... Like That and that actually Navy is not a deviation from the norm but rather a different flavor of the chaotic energy all Rubies naturally seem to possess.

Amethyst is also super relatable:

“Ah yes, the fool comes crawling back. Come to beg for forgiveness, have you?”

In fact, the episode’s WHOLe HUMOUR is just very much My Brand

“Sometimes you save all the people but the rollercoaster still crashes into the ocean...... and that’s okay.”

Including the Running Gag that is Onion. Who... does not appear to have aged. At all. And that’s okay.

EP 3: ROSE BUDS

Okay where do I even begin with this one. Um.

I have to openly admit that I spent the majority of this episode wheezing with laughter. Let’s start with the Zoomans:

Who are CLEARLY STILL SUPER SALTY AT GREG ABOUT REJECTING THEM??? Which is hilarious.

And also this paradise is fascinating in and of itself.

But the next scene is basically where I started losing my shit.

Okay, okay, alright so. Uh. I have... a few questions.

Like Why. WHY. Does she look. SO MUCH like Rose?

Clearly Rose Quartz differ in coloring and etc. But She literally looks. Like THE Rose. VERY explicitly.

So here’s several options here:

1) Pink made Rose Quartz way before any of the Rebellion happened and Pearl just basically pigeonholed her into THIS specific Rose Quartz appearance because she (???) had a crush? Or somehow saw this specific Rose, thought ‘hot, i can make my sympathetic Diamond wear this exact costume and that would be EXCELLENT fanservice for ME’

2) Pink didn’t have any Rose Quartz until the Rebellion, and thereafter quickly decided ‘I need these gems as an alibi, so we’re just gonna make them” and she and Pearl basically inclubated Rose Quartz like a pokemon trainer hatching for a Shiny until they got one that looked Exactly Like That.

3) There was no Thinking involved because this is Pink we’re talking about, and it was all just a huge coincidence for the sake of this Very Hilariously Uncomfortable Episode.

While we ruminate on that, let’s look at some Relatable Reactions.

And here we have the holy trinity of “I have just seen the clone of my deceased parent/parental figure/lover.”

Featuring: Bonus ‘I’m Almost Over It’ Pearl

Also, I need y’all to make this into a meme:

For example:

Anyway, alright, alright.

That relatable feel when your (hot) dead lesbian lover’s clone asks you if you’re okay after another one of the (less hot?) clones offers you a whole ass stick of butter to eat.

And then you and your friends all hide in the bathroom to talk about your feelings:

Okay, the rest of the episode gives me FEELINGS and I love how hard Steven is trying, so I’ll just close it off with:

I LOVE THEM. Unironically, they are EVERYTHING I had hoped Rose Quartz would be. They’re SO MUCH like Rose herself - did she model her personality after them? Or are they just like her because she WAS like that, and they’re made from her essence? WHO KNOWS?! They’re adorable!

And the conflict between them and Steven is honestly so gooD! I don’t know if it’s completely relatable but I’m glad they ended up talking it out.

I wonder if we’ll ever see Her again... you know who I’m talkin’ about.

Her....

I’m madly in love with Rose, ok, I don’t need a callout post. Just leave me be.

EP 4: VOLLEYBALL

Alright, alright, alright.

OKAy,.... It’s fine. It’s FINE. I’m fINE.

Confirmed: 8000 years. That’s. UH. A LOT? That puts our timelines quite a ways back. We kind of estimated as much, but still, it’s so jarring to think about. And PP is VERY casual about it.

She’s also VERY casual about the injury.

“This is all Pink Diamond!”

It doesn’t seem like it bothers her to talk about it at all. She’s not even trying to keep it a secret. So I’m almost wondering - was there a connection to her being taken by White and the injury at all or not?

She came to Steven to get healed - she clearly wants it gone. At the time she was injured, did Pink not even attempt to heal the injury?

Follow up question: If she DID care, why didn’t she try to heal it?

Follow up to the follow up: Was it because she didn’t know she could? Or did she simply not have the time to (White removed her before she could)?

When Steven goes pink, she gasps - but makes no further comment. It’s presumably because she’s seen this happen before. She doesn’t try to move away, weirdly enough - she asks him if everything is alright. Perhaps the context is too different for it to be triggering for her. Perhaps there’s more layers to it? HMMM.

What follows is, perhaps, the SALTIEST we’ve seen Pearl since Greg rolled around.

“Did you come to compete?”

This is doubly curious to me because Crewniverse has previously explicitly stated that Pearl was NOT in love with Pink Diamond. She was in love with Rose. So if this is true, why would Pearl care about her place as Pink’s Pearl? She is supposed to be past all that, isn’t she?

And yet as time goes on, the salinity grows exponentially. Alright, you two, I know you’re Pearls but tone it down with the sass.

(Also, I’m sorry but I will NEVER call her Volleyball. That’s all. Bye.)

Also it’s worth noting that... PP is clearly VERY much in love with Pink.

This is, perhaps, where the lack of a grudge plays into it. She’s completely enamoured.

Moreover, she’s VERY casual about how she talks here. This isn’t exactly how one talks of their Diamond. This is how people talk about their romantic partners. She calls Pink silly, calls her ‘funny’. That’s not exactly a term of respect - it’s way more intimate than that.

Also, did anyone else notice how, although CG Pearl’s gem is usually shaded in teal, it’s in Pink in this episode? VEEEERY subtle, Crew.

Also, we can’t quite see Pink Pearl’s expression fully here because her working eye isn’t visible, which makes it hard to get a read on things like

“I’m older than you.“ Is she just saying it casually? Or is she fully aware that she’s poking fun at CG Pearl?

HI SHELL. ISN’T IT FUNNY HOW YOUR VOICE AND YOUR NAME ARE A SUBTLE NOD TO PORTAL, WHICH IS FORESHADOWING HOW BADLY THIS IS GONNA END.

Meanwhile, Pearl continues to be in character.

“No need to be overly... attached.”

And this has nothing to do with anything but

she cute

Aaaand now it’s creepy again.

The rest of this is super important so let’s get to it:

“Oh, no. Pink did this.”

“What did you say?”

“It’s a funny story, really. Once, Pink got tired of asking Yellow and Blue for her own colony, so she went straight to White. Of course, White told her she wasn’t fit to run one... and well! That set her off.”

“Set her off? What are you talking about?”

“You remember how she was! With her destructive powers, throwing tantrums left and right! She had a scream that could crack the walls. She didn’t mean to hurt me! (giggle) I just happened to be standing too close to her that time and--”

And then Steven interrupts.

We get more CG Pearl arguing for how wrong this image of Pink is to her. What CG Pearl knew was a totally different (or, well, same, but VERY changed) Pink.

But what we have to prove our point is Steven himself. He rolls into the EXACT same state as Pink presumably did - and begins to over-use his powers.

(This isn’t the first time we have seen him use this attack.)

The reactions from the Pearls are telling - this is clearly not Pink Pearl’s first rodeo with this type of Mood.

And it’s important to note that Steven clearly didn’t direct any attack AT them. He simply yelled - and the whole dang place literally started to crack. There’s weight to the argument that possibly, Pink really DIDN’T mean to hurt her Pearl - that she was just collateral damage.

Which doesn’t make it any better, obviously. Even if Pink had no direct intention of hurting her Pearl (and there are theories that Pink purposefully hit or threw Pink Pearl or somehow physically acted directly to damage her, which I was skeptical of) the result of it is still the same.

If you raise your voice and yell, even if you’re just yelling because YOU are hurt/have feelings, you might still hurt the people around you. If you throw a tantrum, even if your direct goal was just to let off some steam without aiming to harm anyone, whoever gets in your way is still the victim.

And this is all very much On Brand for Pink’s timeline as we know it. We already knew this about her - we KNEW she tended to throw tantrums (like in the flashback on Jungle Moon) and that she was childish. The fact that she accidentally hurt her Pearl in the process because she had no self-control at that period in her life comes as no surprise.

(Although it’s important to mention that perhaps hurting her own Pearl WAS the breaking point during which she finally realized how her emotional outbursts could have negative consequences on those around her.)

And this is a very beautiful message - even if Pink Pearl still doesn’t want to blame Pink for what was done to her (”But... she didn’t mean to!”) Pearl brings the point of it back around to her (”But you were still hurt!”) The point isn’t the person who did the hurting - the focus is on the victim and how they were affected.

And the rest, I daresay, is history.

I like the fact that they managed to still bring it back around to the main message:

It isn’t about just “Pink was bad”. It’s about how she did bad things. And there were multiple sides to her - multiple stages. And the Pearls who knew her knew different sides of her - the side that didn’t know how to be a good person, who was selfish and childish and unrestrained... and the side that was, arguable, too restrained. Who hated her own past, her own character and her own mistakes so much that she would rather bury them and keep secrets from everyone.

And neither of those things were good, and neither were healthy, but they are a GREAT contrast to a GREAT character arc that is, arguably, still being unearthed. And we have so much more context for it all now.

I, for one, can’t wait to see and discover more of Pink through Pink Pearl - no matter how ugly that side of her might be. I think it gives great perspective to her later growth.

And if you ship the Pearls.. .well, I get why.

Personally I’m not interested in it that way. Call me unromantic - I don’t think their relationship NEEDS to be shippy in order to be satisfyingly deep. I love the idea of them having a deep bond over this - a shared past, a shared experience, and gaining confidence through one another.

Cheers and thanks for listening!

#steven universe future #steven universe: future #steven universe future spoilers #su:f spoilers #suf spoilers #su spoilers #steven universe spoilers #spoiler warning #pink pearl #volleyball

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static-fanatic-1 · 4 years

Text

Tattooed-Uvogin

(Tattoo Soulmate AU- Where tattoos are shared by soulmates, if a soulmate dies then the other looses their ability to have nen and the tattoo disappears. I love soulmate AU's, they're fun. Also when Uvogin gets the spider tattoo he will be 24.)

(Female Reader)

College is usually portrayed in two ways, absolutely fantastic where breaking into song is the norm, or a horrid experience akin to horny Lovecraftian creatures. In this case the song song type of college is the norm.

Most individuals in college receive a tattoo, whether it be their own or their soulmates. Usually it is a happy occasion when that happens. Most would flaunt their new mark and spit out how much they wanted to meet their soulmate, but (y/n) was an exception.

Junior year, the hope of a new age of adulthood quickly coming up. The twenty-two old started to strip. Why strip? Well because she had decided to wait her junior year to get her athletic credit, and because she wanted to see a tattoo if she were to get one. But the first reason is what people think. Practically tearing off the jacket she wore and tossing it onto a bench, (y/n) jumped at the sudden shrieks and hollers from across the room.

"Lilith! Holy shit look!" Deciding to see what the commotion was about, (y/n) leaned over to watch the event unfold. On her lower back, almost covered by her shoulder length blonde hair, was a beautiful koi tattoo. As if swimming the splash of blue, orange and cream colors contrasted beautifully with her deep skin tone.

"What?! Oh my god show me!" Lilith squealed, pushing away girls to get to the nearest mirror. The brightest smile decorated her pink lips and when she finally saw the new mark on her shoulder, she waved around her hands and jumped with unrivaled joy. "I can't fucking believe it!"

"Do you think he just turned 21? Like today's his birthday or something?" Another girl exclaimed, staring at the inked shin with awe.

"Probably! Most people get them when they turn 21. God I'm so excited! I'm posting this everywhere to see if someone answers."

More girls crowded around Lilith, the light tapping of gentle fingers bringing (y/n) back to her senses. Turning around the female met with her dearest friend. "What?"

"Ms. Venal will snap at us if we aren't ready, best not to get on her bad side again. She might make us do push-ups for a warm up again." The soft voice and her light brown hair and eyes pairing nicely with her shy personality.

"Oh shit you're right." Swiftly (y/n) moved back to the back of the locker room, pulling off her pants at the same time. Replacing them with gym shorts with the school logo she quickly followed by her favorite shirt.

Grabbing the school shirt she jumped when someone grabbed her shoulders from behind. "(Y/n)! Your back!"

Before (y/n) could protest she was pulled to her friends locker with a hand mirror shoved in her face. Hesitantly she grabbed it and moved it around her face, trying to see what Jessy was talking about. Finally, a large dark tattoo revealed itself on her lower back, spider legs and a white eleven in the center.

"Looks like a spider, but with twelve legs? Weird." Jessy replied, lightly tracing the many legs now inked into her friend's skin. "You seem... disappointed? (Y/n) you good?"

(Y/n) shrugged, surprisingly it was underwhelming compared to what she thought it would be like. I mean the weird spider on her back was the key to finding her soulmate right? Yet it still felt like a normal school day. "Kinda underwhelming I guess."

"Hey (y/n), you got one too? I honestly thought you wouldn't get one." The snarky voice of Lilith echoed in the locker room, a new hand placing itself on (y/n)'s shoulder. "A spider, really?"

(Y/n) gritted her teeth, Jessy moving to put on the last of her clothes. "They probably just like spiders, so what?"

"Looks like they don't know how to count, that's sad." Lilith remarked, poking at the inked flesh. "Didn't you get a tattoo not too long ago, what was it again?"

"A (favorite animal)." (Y/n) mumbled grabbing her school shirt and putting it on.

"Wow, classic."

(Y/n) pretty much had enough of this and turned to the blonde with vigor. Placing a figure on the new koi fish tattoo. "Wow, classic cunt."

The blonde scoffed, but was quickly interrupted when the teacher called out. "Girls, hurry up or you all are going to do more push-ups!"

Lilith mumbles underneath her breath, venomous words that didn't pass (y/n). "Go fuck yourself." She had said.

In a last ditch effort to get some satisfaction, the (h/c) haired girl turned to the blonde and smiled. "After you."

Man school was just dandy.

~~~

For some reason the drive home felt longer than usual, the songs uninteresting and slow. But that didn't stop the sigh of relief when entering her home. Maybe telling her parents about the tattoo would bring up her spirits? They always wanted to see what it would end up being.

"Momma! I'm home!" (Y/n) yelled, letting the fact sink in to any occupants.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a snack, and paused. Her dad, usually sitting with his back straight and glasses on, now held his lenses with his face in his hand. "Hey dad, you're home early. Everything alright?"

Swiftly his head shot up, (h/c) hair messy unlike usual. "Huh? Oh, yeah yeah I'm fine, just a lot of work is all. We're still trying to find who stole Ruby Red, that jewel is worth a few billion Jenny."

The man's daughter pulled a chair and sat down across from him, opening her snack to start eating it. "I still can't believe someone was able to take it, isn't the security pretty high?"

"Yup, and Ruby Red wasn't the only thing they took. They took a few other gems too." Her mother butted in, placing a kiss upon her husband's cheek. "Whoever did it defiantly had help, you're dad placed too many security guards for it to have been one guy."

(Y/n) furrowed her brows, the fact it was more than one person sans all too surprising, but how did they get past the armed guards in the first place? "So what exactly happened? Like to the guards I mean."

"Well... that's just it. We don't know." The dad rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension that had built. "They just vanished... poof, gone. No sign of a struggle, no blood, all of it gone."

The mother removed her hand and pulled up a chair, sitting down and taking a sip of whatever is in her mug. "Yeah, pretty crazy stuff. I've been looking through the cameras and I think they have been tampered with. Whoever took the merchandise wasn't a rookie. They knew what they were doing."

"Who do you guys think did it? The mafia?" The daughter asked, looking at both her parents.

"A new group has been floating around, something called the Phantom Troupe. They are pretty much the worst of the worst." The brunette mother replied, placing her cup down and getting more comfortable.

"Worse than the mafia?" (Y/n) questioned.

"Pretty much, this gang took out the entire Kurta clan just a few months ago. They took their eyes and everything." There was a pause, easily taken up by the gravity of the situation her parents were in.

Her father butted in. "Anyway, anything happened at school? How's Jessy doing, she can come over for dinner tonight too. Martha said she was making lobster claws and steak."

"Ah, well, Jessy's doing fine and I'm sure she'd love to come over again. I'll go ahead and text her." (Y/n) pulled out her phone and did just that, asking if her friend wanted to come over again.

"What else, I feel like your hiding something." Martha asked, leaning closer to her daughter with a sly smile.

Small bits of sweat started to form on her brow, right now didn't exactly seem like a good time to talk about an odd tattoo. "Well I cursed someone out, that was fun."

Her dad groaned and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh my god was it that Lilith bitch again?"

"Edgar!" Martha snapped, slapping the man on his shoulder and she lightly scolded him. The both of them knew their daughters relationship with that girl. All they had to say is if the coward ever threw a punch, to lay her ass on that ground. (Y/n) was still waiting for her to throw it.

A small ping from a phone ringed, the daughter pulling hers out and slightly smiling. At least when Jessy comes over she would have emotional support over the weird tattoo. "Yeah, it was her again. Anyway, mom do you want any help, Jessy said she would come over."

"Sure, honey. I'd like that."

~~~

The air was tense, sweat slowly forming on (y/n)'s brows as her dearest friend babbled on and on about her early day bravery. "Lilith couldn't say a word to us for the rest of the day! It was hilarious." Jessy boasted, laughing at the sense painted in her head.

Though Martha and Edgar looked at their daughter dumbfounded. "Sooo, is there a reason why you didn't tell us about your new tattoo?" The mother asked, leaning on her elbow with her head in her hand.

"Ah, well you know, it's kinda embarrassing."

"Seriously, you didn't tell them?!"

"I said it's embarrassing!" (Y/n) reinstated, moving her hands in front of her face to attempt stopping the forming blush.

"So! Show us!" Martha exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

(Y/n) grumbled a bit and stood up from her chair, lightly pulling up the back of her shirt. On her lower back the sideways spider laid, twelve legs spread out for the world to see.

Silence followed, the air thicker than it once was. "Yeah, it's a little weird. Honestly it was underwhelming getting it." (Y/n) tried to release the growing tension with a light laugh, though it didn't do much.

"Y-Yeah, it is a little weird isn't it?" Edgar had replied, moving to lightly trace his fingers on the inked skin. "Well I don't think most people have twelve-legged spiders on their backs so it shouldn't be too difficult to find out who this guy is."

~~~

Those words meant so much now, after seeing the news talk about Ruby Red's disappearance and how it was linked to a group of mass murderers, the words felt heavy.

Changing to homeschooling was the first thing to happen, as having people see such a dangerous tattoo could endanger your family. Hunters would travel far and wide to catch the soulmate of a Phantom Troupe member, to sell or kill them for the highest price tag. So being around other reckless students was a big no-no.

Next was their home, moving to the outskirts of York New city to start fresh, where no one would know who they were. Getting a new job wasn't too difficult for Martha and Edgar, as security personnel was important everywhere.

Though (y/n) herself wasn't allowed a job, too risky they would say. And Jessy, well at least she was still there. The friend would visit every so often to catch up, and texting each other became an everyday occurrence.

It had been five years since that dinner, and now fear and anxiety ruled over (y/n)'s life. Walking on the streets it seemed every passerby was a possible hunter, just waiting to catch her and slit her throat.

(Y/n) could only trust Jessy and her parents.

The ringing of a phone smacked the female from her train of thoughts, papers she was once working on discarded. Picking up the device and placing it on her ear, a sweet voice rang with an excited undertone. "Yo, (y/n). Whatcha up to?"

A delicate smile pulled at the (h/c) haired lips. "Fine, just doing mom and dads paperwork. Kinda the only job they'll let me have."

There a was a light hearted laugh on the other side of the phone. "Well I'm going to have a few days off of work it you want to meet up and have a few drinks. I'll be coming in sometime tomorrow evening if you want to meet up then?"

"I'd love to, I'll just have to ask mom and dad, you know how they are."

"Yeah, can't blame them though. I mean it's scary."

"Yeah... I'll call you a little later with an answer okay? See you later Jessy, tell me when you get here and I'll pick you up from the airport."

"Alright, sounds good to me! Bye-bye!"

"Bye." Her smile faded when the phone call ended, at least it wouldn't be too bad. Now she just had to get on her knees and beg her parents.

Searching through the apps on the phone she ended up on the calling one, but paused. 'I'll just ask them when they get home, I'll drive over there soon.' Tossing the electronic on her bed (y/n) sighed and leaned back in her seat.

~~~

After plenty of begging and a semi-long drive to the airport, the now ecstatic girls drove around the city to wherever this bar was.

"Okay okay, (y/n), don't get mad at me but I invited a few other friends." Jessy timidly said, scrunching her body as close as possible to her seat.

"Who?" Was all said, making the other girl all the more afraid of an anxious outburst.

"Just a girl I met the bar once, her name is Shizuku. She said she's bringing another friend over, another girl. Don't worry though she's a bit of an airhead, an absolute sweetheart once you get to know her." Jessy relaxed, not noticing any changes with her friend's behavior. "Sorry I wanted to tell you but if you told Edgar and Martha they probably wouldn't have let you go! I just really wanted to hang out with you."

"Don't worry, mom and dad don't have to know." (Y/n) turned and gave a small wink before turning back to the road.

Jessy sighed, relieved to finally have some fun without much worry. "Oh oh! Right here!" The car slowly drove into the parking lot, the two searching for a spot to park. "Oh! They're over there." The two girls exited and quickly made their way to another pair.

The first girl Jessy walked to and hugged had shoulder length black hair and large round glasses. Large, plum doe like eyes gazed at (y/n) with innocent intrigue. Her casual wear consisting of a long black sleeved shirt and black shorts complimented her hourglass body type. She honestly looked adorable.

The other was a blonde clearly taller than her ravenette friend. Calculating eyes, short hair in a bob and a hooked nose gave her a demanding audience. The woman wore a red, low cut baby doll dress that ended on her mid thigh, and black heels making her even taller.

"Okay guys, this is (y/n), she's been my friend ever since middle school." Jessy placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, (y/n) shyly waving and saying hello. "And (y/n) this is Shizuku and her number two, Pakunoda." They too did the same thing.

"Alrighty! Now that we have all the introductions out of the way!" Exclaimed Jessy, grabbing (y/n)'s hand and waving for the other two to follow. "Let's get absolutely trashed!"

Pakunoda snorted and followed, all four of them entering the not-so-much-a-bar-as-it-is-a-club building.

Jessy grabbed a table, putting some of her things down to mark it as her own. "I'll go ahead and get something to get this party started! Anything in particular you guys want?"

Shizuku places a finger on her chin, deep in thought. Pakunoda wrapped an arm around the ravenette and shook her head. "Surprise us."

(Y/n) quickly waved her hands. "Don't get me something strong, I'll be the designated driver." She laughed, Shizuku finally making up her mind.

"Something fruity!"

She did somewhat seem like an airhead.

After plenty of drinks for the four, and pleasant conversation between the girls, Jessy was finally breaking under the alcohol. Her slim build swaying even when she sat in the booth's chair. "Y'all wanna hear a funny story? Or at least its funny to me." She slurred.

Pakunoda, sitting on the outside of the curved booth, leaned in. "Sure." Elbow now on the table and head in her hand. A delicate smile etched onto her lips, her eyes calculating as an extra hand served her drink.

(Y/n) listened to her start talking about Lilith, the old school bully having many stories about her. "I'm going to go to the restroom." She tapped Jessy's shoulders and moved over and out of the conversation.

Shizuku listened carefully to the slurring female, Pakunoda doing the same. Slowly the story became interesting, talking about receiving tattoos and snapping at the girl named Lilith.

But more importantly, a tattoo received on a lower back. (Y/n)'s lower back.

By the time said female returned all had paused, both Shizuku and Pakunoda silent but attentive. Jessy moved over to let her friend back in the booth they had claimed, Pakunoda placing a slender arm across her shoulders. "You have quite the temper don't you?"

Remembering what they had been talking about, the comment didn't surprise (y/n) all that much. "Lilith? Haha, yeah I hated her. She was difficult to deal with, always trying to one up everyone." (Y/n) waved her hand around to dismiss her temper, truly she couldn't stand people like Lilith. "Don't worry I'm much better now." Again she lightly laughed.

"You seem like it, you're so shy. I honestly didn't expect a story like that." Paku replied, leaning in a little closer.

"Which one was it? I've kinda snapped at her a lot."

"The one where ya' finally got yer tattoo~!" Jessy replied, sandwiching the poor girl between the two.

(Y/n)'s entire body went rigid, her breathing slightly labored by her hammering heartbeat. 'No, no, no Jessy couldn't have told that story, she wouldn't. She knows how dangerous it is for me already, telling people would make it worse!'

She would be hunted by hunters and the Phantom Troupe alike if the wrong people were to find out.

Doing her best to relax, her shoulders not so tense anymore. "Ye-Yeah, it's a bit of a strange one but I don't mind it too much. What time is it?"

Shizuku looked at her phone, her mouth wishing to yap about how Uvogin would love the girl. Or how Uvogin is just a call away from finding his soulmate. OR ANYTHING RELATED! But alas, the bone crushing grip placed on her thigh along with straight up saying it earlier, told her to shut it.

Now with a pouting face she checked the time. "It's 12:48."

Mumbling a short 'shit', (y/n) grabbed her purse and stood up. "Sorry! I was supposed to go home an hour ago!" She examined her phone with a pale face, not just from her tattoo being revealed, but the endless messages from her parents. "Does anyone need a ride?"

Jessy leaned in more, her lips ghosting (y/n)'s ear. "I would love to ride."

Pushing her drunk friend off, (y/n) made her way out of the booth, Jessy wrapped in her arms as the girl stumbled. "You two?"

Shizuku lifted her finger, her mouth opening to speak, but was quickly stopped when a hand smacked itself on her lips. "Don't worry about us." Paku replied, waving a dismissive hand.

"Al-alright. Well we'll be off then, take care!" Quickly grabbing her things, and Jessy, the two slipped out of the club.

Shizuku smacked Paku's hand away and pushed up her glasses. "What was that for?!"

Pakunoda shifted out of her seat, looking around at the other inhabitants of the establishment. "You were going to say something about Uvo, weren't you?"

The ravenette pursed her lips and turned away, scooting out of the booth as well. "So what if I was? It wouldn't stop us from getting her anyway." Whined the girl.

"It would have made getting her harder, she's already cautious of everyone." The two girls exited the bar, stopping to watch (y/n)'s car drive away. "Besides it won't be too difficult for Shalnark to find her."

"Didn't you touch her?" Shizuku pushed her glasses up once more, turning to wonder off to home base.

"Of course, she was very anxious the entire time, and she was weary of us from the beginning."

The ravenette hummed, both wondering through the lit up city. Smoke polluted the air of the alleyways they traveled through, the moonlight basking the criminals in an ethereal glow. The alleyway became too quiet, the once light sounds of buzzing insects feasting on the dumpsters silenced.

The girls stopped, looking at the empty sidewalk in front of them. They could sense two individuals, on in front of them and the other behind. Were the stalkers going to try and jump them? Did they know who they are? Well it doesn't matter, the stalkers will be dead soon.

"Well well well," A gruff voice echoed from behind. "Looks like the butterflies flew into the spider's web. How about you two be sweethearts and tell me about that friend of yours? The one with the (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes."

Shizuku turned around to face the man, noting the switch blade open and poised in his hands. "He has a knife, Paku."

The man 'tsk'ed slowly walking closer to the girls. Paku stared straight ahead, the other stalker finally revealing himself, a scrawny man with a baggy shirt and large knife.

Pakunoda sighed and pulled out her revolver, aiming straight between the scrawny man's eyes. "Never bring a knife to a gun fight." A quick pull of the trigger and a loud bang caused the man to fall over, a small hole oozing blood and smoke between his glossy orbs.

Shizuku summoned Blinky and with a quick bonk on his head, the gruff voiced man collapsed to the ground.

"Shizuku, is he dead?"

"I didn't hit him that hard." With a hum and a finger on his neck. "Nope, he's alive."

"Good." She swayed over to the man and placed a hand upon his cheek. A rush of memories and emotions entered her mind, like the ripples in water. "They weren't alone, they called others before following us. We should hurry before they find her first."

"They'll kill her won't they?"

"Probably."

"Uvogin would loose his nen if that happened, hmm, we can't let that happen."

Nothing new happened after their encounter, the dark streets now baron by the late night and the rundown buildings. Turning the corner to enter the hideout, a face revealed itself, young and distressed, their thin black brows furrowed.

No words were exchanged, the girls entering without a care. A sigh left the short man's lips as he walked with them into the church. "Machi had a feeling again. What happened?"

Shizuku hopped her way onto a pile of rubble and sat down with an impassive expression. "We were attacked by some thugs on our way back. Though, it was more like a one-way-massacre."

The entire Troupe was in the broken down office building, there were preparing to infiltrate a museum filled with priceless artifacts, but it might have to be postponed.

Feitan didn't look at Shizuku, already knowing her information may very well be useless. "Paku?"

"Shizuku's friend brought a number two as well, she just so happened to be a soulmate." Pakunoda teased, crossing her arms.

The small group playing cards stopped, even Chrollo averted his eyes from his book of interest. Feitan's brows lifted slightly, probably in surprise.

"Ah! That happened too."

Franklin snorted, placing down his cards and shifting to face Paku. Shalnark, Nodunaga, Machi, Kortopi, Bonolenov, and Franklin were huddled up in a small circle playing cards, though the game was now paused. Uvogin, the secret star of the show, was rooting for Nodu to finally win a game. "Who?"

A delicate smirk etched itself on her features, a slender finger pointing to the bear-like man sitting behind Nobunaga.

With that action taken, the bear-like man grabbed Nobunaga and wrapped his arm around his head. The other hand pulling out the ponytail and messing up his hair as a boisterous laughs echoed throughout the building.

Franklin smacked a hand on Uvogin's shoulder and congratulated them, Nobu yelling for Uvo to let go. Once he finally let him go, the shorter man smacked Uvo.

Uvogin didn't exactly care, all he knew is that his soulmate was found and that she was his next target. "Keep talking Paku." Uvo kindly ordered, curiosity taking hold.

"Well she's pretty cute, (h/l) (h/c) hair, bright (e/c) eyes. She's pretty attentive." Pakunoda waved her hands around, finding a seat on the opposite side of the large room.

Another hearty laugh escaped the bellows of his chest. "Finally! Took her long enough." He exclaimed, clapping and rubbing hands together. "Where is she?"

Pakunoda shrugged. "Her name is (y/n) (l/n), Shal will have to figure that out."

Chrollo hummed, grabbing the attention of the room. "Uvo, once you find out where she lives I want you to get her, it would be a shame if you lost your nen." He paused and placed a bookmark in his spot. "Paku does anyone else know?"

The blonde nodded her head. "Yes, the thugs overheard and called a few of their friends. I don't know how many."

Chrollo hummed once more, leaning in a bit closer to the group. "Once Shal figures out her whereabouts I want you and Nabu to go with Uvo. And be cautious, we don't know how strong the hunters will be."

Uvogin laughed, hands on his hips as he threw his head back. "I will."

"Found her!" Shalnark yelped, a bright smile stretched across his cheeks. "(Y/n) (l/n), lives in the New Found Apartment Complex about three blocks from her parents. Oh! Edgar and Martha (l/n), they work as security managers for the museum we were targeting." Shalnark excitedly exclaimed, waving his phone around in the air. "I'll send you the address, Uvo."

Feitan quirked an eyebrow. "She might know which hunters were hired to protect the exhibit."

Chrollo hummed once more, returning to his book with a calm expression. "That might be the case, if so then there we could be better prepared." The sultry voice of the boss explained further her use, not just for Uvogin but the entire team.

Uvogin cracked his knuckles, waving to Nobunaga and Pakunoda to follow. "Consider it done."

~~~

(Thats it everyone! Sadly Wattpad allows for larger chapters so this will be put into two parts to accomadate.)

#yandere uvogin #uvogin x reader #uvogin #yandere phantom troupe #yandere uvogin x reader #tattooed part one #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh

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