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[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Stuck On You

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dark themes, slut shaming, obsessive behaviour, smut.

Word count: ~6k

Summary: When her email is hacked and racy photos she'd sent to her boyfriend find their way onto Myspace, she becomes the social pariah of Oxford University. She turns to the only person she believes is intelligent enough to be able to help; Michael Gavey. Could uncovering the truth of the situation make things worse than they already are?

Author's note: Written to celebrate one year of my blog existing. Sorry for the delay. Crumbageddon beat the shit out of me. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“Using a painting of that former duchess as a conversation piece, he describes what he saw as her unfaithfulness, frivolity, and stubbornness, and implies that he prefers her as a painting rather than as a…as a living woman,” her voice shakes, stumbling over her words, watching as her essay papers slip from her hands, fluttering towards the rug of the study.

“Sh-shit…I’m sorry,” she stammers, leaning down to snatch them back up, feeling her skin heat up with embarrassment as she attempts to rustle them back into order.

“Everything alright?” Professor Ware asks, shifting in his seat and clasping his hands in his lap.

“Distracted by her own portrait, I should imagine,” snarks Farleigh, cutting her off before she has a chance to reply. 

He smirks up at her, before returning his focus to the screen of his Macbook, fingers tapping quickly across the keys as he sits on the floor with it in his lap, leaning back against the armchair she currently sits in, his legs crossed at the ankle.

Of course he’d left it until the last minute to do his essay. Lazy prick.

“Stop it,” she hisses, knocking his shoulder with her knee.

“Why? It’s up again already anyway,” he retorts with a casual shrug, not bothering to look at her this time.

Her blood runs ice cold, dread gnawing a pit in her stomach. That would be the fourth time this week.

“Where?!” She demands, leaning down to snatch Farleigh’s Macbook from him, ignoring his protestation of “hey!” as she clicks on the minimised Internet Explorer window to see her Myspace profile already open.

Just as he’d said, there she is. Her profile picture depicts her in a lacy two piece lingerie set, laying on her bed, her cleavage, stomach and thighs on full display. She’d thought the angle flattering when she’d first held the digital camera above herself and snapped the picture, but now it’s splashed all over the internet for everyone to see. It makes her feel sick.

“I have to go,” she says hurriedly, shoving Farleigh’s Macbook back into his lap and stuffing her essay papers into her bag.

She almost trips over Farleigh’s long legs in her rush to escape the tutorial room, the air suddenly feeling too thick and difficult to breathe, as her heart hammers in her chest. Her feet carry her down the hallway in quick strides, no particular direction in mind, just eager to get away.

It had all seemed like innocent fun at first. She had felt excited on the second day of Fresher’s Week when a group of girls from the floor of her accommodation had invited her to go shopping with them

They had wrinkled their noses as she had beelined for the Ann Summers in Westgate Shopping Centre, lured by the big, red sale banner in the window.

“Oh darling,” India had cooed, “don’t buy that rubbish. We’ll get the train into London and take you to Rigby and Peller in Mayfair, if it’s lingerie you’re after.”

She had balked inwardly at the thought of how expensive that would be, but had simply smiled politely, stating “this is fine”, more than happy with the matching black lace set she’d picked from the sale rail.

Back in her room, she’d tried it on, loving the way the material hugged her curves and felt against her skin. Excitedly, she’d dug out her digital camera, contorting herself into various poses that she felt best displayed her assets, until she was satisfied she had several that looked good.

She hadn’t seen her boyfriend, Jake, since she had left for Oxford and he had gone to Brighton. Their reading weeks didn’t align, which meant they’d have to wait until the term came to an end to see each other at Christmas.

Emailing him the photos had felt like a nice way for them to maintain some sort of intimacy, despite the distance, and he’d certainly appreciated it, as a couple of hours later she’d gotten a text from him which simply said “wow!”

The high from that had left her with a smile on her face for days, until she’d stepped out of a tutorial a few days later to see a missed call and a text from him.

“What the fuck are you playing at?!” It had read.

She’d called him back straight away, the urge to vomit growing acrid in her throat as he’d told her what he’d seen, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, she’d scrambled with shaking hands to free her laptop from her bag, to confirm what Jake was saying.

There it was. Her Myspace profile picture had been changed to one of the lingerie photos she’d sent to him. This one was a full length photo she’d taken, aiming the camera at the mirror in her room.

The hot prickle of tears had burned beneath her eyelids, as she’d drawn in a shaky breath. “Wh-why would you do that?” She’d whispered tearfully into the phone.

“It wasn’t me!” Jake had snapped angrily. “Perhaps if you hadn't taken those bloody photos in the first place then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Are you seriously blaming me?!”

“It just looks bad. I think maybe we should cool things for a bit, I can’t with be someone that—”

Tears had rolled down her cheeks as she’d pulled the phone away from her ear, seeing the call had cut off. She’d run out of credit. In a way, she was grateful; she didn’t want to listen to Jake ending their relationship, to continue to blame her for something that wasn’t her fault.

She had taken the photo down, changed her profile picture back to what it was before, and changed the password for both Myspace and her email. However, the damage was done, the whispers of “slut” as she walked to lectures had already started.

Another two days later she had entered the IT lab to print out her essay, and saw a group huddled around a computer, laughing together. They had turned, immediately quietening down, their voices hushed whispers as they looked at her. 

She had pushed them apart, already knowing what it was they were all looking at, but wanting to confirm it. Just as she’d suspected, her Myspace profile was open. This time her photo had been changed to an over the shoulder shot. The side of her face and her buttocks visible as she’d arched her back.

Running back to her room, tears of humiliation blurring her vision, she’d taken the photo down again and changed all her passwords. But once again, it was too little, too late. A print out of the photo slipped beneath her door that same day, with the word “whore” scrawled across it.

Her friends were already starting to pull away, the invites to the pub had dried up into nothing. When another photo had been uploaded, Felix had pulled her to one side.

“Look, I think it’s incredibly daring of you to be doing what you’re doing, and I respect the fuck out of you for it, really I do,” he’d said, eyes filled with sympathy as he’d looked down at her. “But a few of us really aren’t comfortable with how you’re going about…getting attention, so I just think it’s for the best if we take some space until you’ve figured out whatever this is.”

She had been stunned by his words, her eyes going wide as her mouth had dropped open. “You think I’m doing this to myself?!”

“Well, what else are we supposed to think? We’re worried about you. There are better…healthier ways to make yourself stand out. Just come clean and all of this can stop.”

Turning away in disgust, anger and betrayal flaring white hot in her chest, she’d walked away. This was happening to her, she wasn’t complicit in it, and yet people continued to act like it was her fault. She had started to wonder if she really was to blame. Had she tempted fate by taking those photos in the first place?

Today was the fourth time a photo had been uploaded and having fled from the tutorial with Professor Ware and Farleigh, she finds herself in the Bodleian Library, having walked on instinct. 

It serves as a quiet refuge for her in moments when she feels overwhelmed, hiding among the shelves, admiring tomes that are older than she is. She’d come here on her first day, when the influx of new people, sights and sounds had become too much, and she had crouched between the stacks the first time one of her photos had been leaked. The smell of old books and the peace and quiet feels safe.

Walking silently between the study tables she spots him, alone, as he always is; Michael Gavey. He is hunched over a notebook, scribbling furious notes, stopping occasionally to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

She had thoroughly embarrassed herself the first time she’d met him, the only time she had ever spoken to him. It had been the night of the fresher’s welcome dinner. She’d heard his outburst in the dining hall, heard how he had answered the subsequent multiplication sum flawlessly and been bowled over by how effortlessly brilliant he was. It was intimidating.

Yet, later that evening fuelled by the courage of five tropical watermelon flavoured Bacardi Breezers, she’d stumbled over to him in the rec room, ignoring how he’d recoiled slightly at her advancing towards him.

She’d wrapped an arm around his neck, taking no notice of the way he’d stiffened beneath her touch.

“Wha’s nine hundred and ninety nine divided by thirteen?” She’d slurred into his ear.

He had bristled slightly, before answering quietly. “Seventy six point eight five.”

She had giggled, patting his cheek, knocking his glasses askew. “Don’t even know how to check that, but I’ll take your word for it, genius.” 

Kissing his cheek, she’d stumbled away, leaving him to wipe away the sticky residue her lips had left behind, while Felix and Farleigh had fallen about themselves, laughing, finding it far funnier than she’d intended for it to be. She had ended up making him a laughing stock without even meaning to.

The memory fills her with shame. She really did find him impressive. He was precisely the type of person she had wanted to rub shoulders with when she arrived at Oxford, yet she had made a fool of herself instead.

She smiled at him whenever she caught his eye on the rare occasions they crossed paths, but he’d either look away or stare at her expressionless.

Perhaps now was her opportunity to make amends. She has no friends now anyway, so it’s not as though she has anything to lose.

Walking over to his table, before she has a chance to talk herself out of it, she sits down heavily in the seat next to him, depositing her bag onto the tabletop.

Michael’s pen pauses its movements, and slowly his head turns to the side, narrowing his eyes at her in silent question.

She suddenly has the urge to run, realising this was a terrible idea. She feels enormous discomfort beneath the scrutiny of his gaze yet, determined to push through it, she offers him a bright smile.

“You’re Michael, aren’t you?” She says, attempting to sound more cheerful than she feels.

“Yes,” he replies simply, placing his pen down and straightening in his seat.

“Thought so. I’m–”

“I know who you are,” he cuts her off. “What do you want?”

“Oh,” she swallows, shifting awkwardly in her seat. She hadn’t anticipated him being quite so blunt. “Well, I wanted to apologise for how I behaved on the first night. I thought maybe we could be friends?”

He scoffs, the corners of his mouth turning up into the faintest of smirks. “As if I’d be friends with someone who’s reading literature. Why pay all that money in tuition fees for a glorified book club?”

For a moment she doesn’t know what to say. Shock, offense and hurt swirl in a hot mixture in her chest. She fights the embarrassing urge to burst into tears. Her voice is small and weak when she finally asks “How do you know what I’m studying?”

Michael nods towards the desk. “There’s a book of Robert Browning poetry sticking out of your bag.”

“Right, yeah…” She feels her skin heat up, turning to slowly tuck the book further down inside, still able to feel his eyes upon her. It’s disconcerting to be observed so closely.

“Where’s that group of losers you usually hang around with anyway?”

The question takes her by surprise, and she laughs softly, though there is no real humour to it. “I don’t think they want to hang around with me anymore.”

“So you’re a Norman no mates too then?”

His expression has softened, a slight playfulness brightens his blue eyes as she looks back at him, and she can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

He leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin up on his hand. “Hmmm. So they got bored of you then?”

“No…I–”

She sighs exasperatedly, running a hand through her hair, before digging through her bag to pull out her laptop. “It’s probably easier if I show you.”

Setting the laptop down on the table, she loads her Myspace page, the same picture she’d seen on Farleigh’s Macbook earlier still set as her profile photo. “Someone keeps changing my profile picture to this. I sent my boyfriend…ex-boyfriend…some photos and now someone has them and keeps doing this every time I change it back.”

Michael’s expression is impassive as he stares at the screen. “Have you changed your passwords?”

“Yes,” she sighs.

“So, you’ve been hacked.”

“Looks that way…I don’t suppose you know anything about computers? Maybe you could help me figure out who’s doing this?”

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue, staring intently at her, “so there it is, pretending to befriend the college nerd because you need computer help. Do you not think it’s a bit of a tired stereotype to assume that because I’m reading maths I’d be able to help you with your IT issues?”

“No, it’s not like that!” She protests, her eyes welling up with tears. She turns away, defeated, deciding this is a lost cause and closes her laptop. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

He sighs. “Well, there’s no need to cry about it. I can help you, just not right now. Are you free later this evening?”

She sniffles, her eyes going wide as she looks at him in surprise. “Really?”

He nods, closing his notebook and slipping his pen into his breast pocket. “I’ve got a tutorial in twenty minutes, but I can help trace the IP of whoever’s hacked you. I’m on the first floor of the Brasenose, second room left of the staircase. I’ll be back around five.”

Nodding, she immediately feels lighter, the possibility that this may finally come to an end instantly lifting her spirits. A chance to get her life back. “That’s perfect, I’ll see you then. Thank you so much.”

He rises, his gaze remaining fixed upon her. “See you later.” 

The way he addresses her, first and last name, sends a shiver down her spine as she watches him turn away and walk slowly out of the library. She wonders what she has gotten herself into, but with no friends and no other options there is little else to be done.

She is filled with restless energy for the rest of the day, unable to sit still or concentrate during the only other lecture she has that afternoon, until eventually she finds herself standing outside of Michael’s room at quarter past five, the hours leading up to that feeling as though they’ve lasted an eternity.

Where there is the faint sound of music or talking coming from the doors she’s passed already on her way here, she is struck by the eerie silence she is met with from his, and wonders for a moment if he’s even home.

Nervous excitement crackles like electricity through her body and her knock is louder than she intends for it to be. She hears shuffling from the other side, until the door swings slowly open. Michael stands poker straight on the threshold, staring down at her.

“Did you bring your laptop?” He asks.

Yet again she is taken aback by how forthright he is, but she nods, stepping in as he moves to the side to let her pass.

Looking around the room, she takes in the plainness of his bedspread, the shelves of mathematics and physics textbooks, the desk set up in the corner that has his laptop open on it. There is nothing that gives even the slightest indication as to who he is as a person.

The sound of him clearing his throat startles her attention back to him, and she turns with an apologetic smile to face him. “Sorry, always weird being in someone else’s room…”

“Right,” he replies, his gaze unwavering as he looks at her. “Laptop?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” embarrassment heats up her skin, as she rummages in her bag, taking it out and handing it to him.

He settles it next to his own on the desk, before taking a seat.

She stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around, not quite knowing what to do with herself. “Um…where should I…?”

“Anywhere,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, not looking at her.

She settles on the edge of the bed, running her hands over the soft cotton of the duvet cover. It’s an odd sensation to sit so casually in the space that she knows he sleeps. It feels too familiar, too intimate.

Glancing to the side, she notices the shimmer of gold and purple in the bin. She smiles to herself, having learned something about him in spite of the lack of personal effects in his room. He has a sweet tooth, evidenced by the Crunchie bar wrappers in the bin.

“Password?” He asks, and her head snaps up towards him.

“Hmm?”

He turns in his chair, resting his arm on the back of it, glaring at her over his shoulder. “The password for your laptop, what is it?”

“Oh!” She exclaims. “Is it safe for me to tell you that?”

“It is if you want me to help you,” he sighs.

She squirms uncomfortably. He has the innate ability to make her feel small, foolish, but what’s most disconcerting is that she doesn’t dislike it, there is something about him that draws her to his condescension. 

“It’s Shakespeare,” she tells him sheepishly, “with a four in place of the first A.”

“What about the passwords for your email and Myspace accounts?”

“The same.”

“The same?!”

“I’ve changed the passwords each time a new photo has been posted, but it’s just easier to have the same one for everything.”

He groans, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “No wonder you’ve been hacked, typical fucking liberal arts student.”

She lowers her gaze, fingers plucking nervously at the bedspread. “Different passwords for every account, got it.”

“Well, that’s a start, yes,” he tells her, turning back to the screens. “Has anyone but you had access to your computer?”

“No, it stays in my bag when I’m not using it.”

She sits watching him tap away at the keyboards of both laptops alternately for a few moments before she speaks again. “I’m not stupid, you know,” she tells him, her voice sounding meeker than she means for it to. “English Language and Literature is no less of a respectable course than Mathematics. I wrote an essay on the Robert Browning poem, My Last Duchess, recently. It’s a fascinating piece, focusing on the Duke of Ferrara using a painting of his former wife as a conversation topic. The Duke speaks about his former wife's perceived inadequacies to a representative of the family of his bride-to-be, revealing his obsession with controlling others in the process. Browning uses this compelling psychological portrait of a despicable character to critique the objectification of women and abuses of power. It’s a compelling commentary on social status and elitism.”

“What would you know about either of those things?” He asks, continuing to type.

“More than I’d like to,” she says quietly, “I don’t fit in here, not really. I earned my place with a scholarship.”

He pauses, stiffening, glancing over his shoulder at her with a “hmm”.

“I’ve managed to get into the access logs for both your email and Myspace accounts,” he tells her. “There are two sets of IPs that have accessed both accounts in the last week, but both are eduroam IP addresses.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that whoever is uploading those photos is doing so from the university.”

The revelation hits her like a punch to the gut, she feels paralysed, unable to speak as his words sink in. A part of her had wanted to believe it was Jake. To think there is someone at the university who is doing this to her makes her feel nauseated. Her mind races with the possibilities of who it could be. Felix? India? Farleigh? What reason could any of them possibly have to want to do that to her?

“What should I do?” She asks worriedly, staring at Michael with her brows pinched together. “Do you think reporting it would help?”

He swivels his chair fully around to face her and shakes his head. “Not if you intend to keep your scholarship. Rocking the boat over leaked nudes won’t look good to the university board, they’ll take issue with the fact that you even took those photos in the first place.”

“So I just have to let this keep happening?” She feels her throat tighten, wetness rims her eyes.

“Change your passwords,” he says matter of factly. “A different one for every account.”

She nods, expelling a shaky breath, before standing. “I should probably get going. Thank you…for everything.”

Before she goes to bed that night, she changes her passwords - a different one for every account she owns, and deletes the newest uploaded photo, returning her profile picture to its original state.

As far as she is concerned, that should be the end of it. However, her breath hitches, icy cold fingers of fear gripping her heart when she logs on the following morning. Not only has her profile picture been changed to another photo from the set she’d taken for Jake, but the “about me” section now reads “vapid cunt”.

On autopilot, she dresses, taking her laptop and walking the six minutes from Christ Church Halls to Brasenose College.

As soon as Michael’s door opens, she flings her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest. He stiffens, not returning the gesture, until she finally pulls away.

He straighens, adjusting his glasses. His hair is rumpled from sleep, clad in a t-shirt and plaid pyjama bottoms.

“God, I’m so sorry, I woke you up,” she says tearfully, “I should go. I didn’t think, I just–”

“It’s fine,” he says flatly, ushering her in.

She sits down on the bed. It’s unmade, still warm from where he’s been sleeping in it. The feeling sends a shiver down her spine, despite her emotional distress.

Gingerly he sits next to her, keeping a respectable distance as she removes her laptop from her bag and opens it. “It’s happened again. I did everything you said to do, but it’s happened again, and it’s worse this time. Look–”

Handing him the laptop she shuffles closer to him, her thigh pressed against his. She can feel the warmth of him through her leggings. It causes butterflies to flutter in her belly, it’s been so long since she’s been this close to anyone.

Michael doesn’t stiffen at her touch this time, whether it’s because he doesn’t mind it or is too distracted by what he sees on the screen, she’s unsure, but it’s progress.

“Hmm. And you’re sure you changed your passwords?”

“Yes, all of them. I don’t know what else to do. If I report it, I risk my scholarship, but if this carries on I’ll lose it anyway, because how can I concentrate when this keeps happening?”

He says nothing, closing her laptop and passing it back to her.

“I’ve worked my arse off to get here, to earn my place, this can’t be what ends it,” she says miserably, tucking her computer back into her bag.

“I’d suggest focusing on your studies and less on your peers,” Michael says matter of factly. “You haven’t made the best choice of friends since arriving here.”

“They’re not my friends,” she whispers, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “At least not anymore. Do you think it’s one of them doing this?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” he replies bitterly, “stay away from them. I’ve got a lecture this morning, but maybe when I’ve got some downtime, I can do a deeper dive, perhaps see if I can track the logins to a device type.”

“You’d do that for me?” She whispers, looking at him with eyes full of appreciation.

“That’s what mates are for, right?”

“Thank you…just…thank you,” she tells him with sincerity, holding his gaze.

She reaches for his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, desperate to kiss his cheek as a gesture of her gratitude, but remembers the first time she’d done it and cringes inwardly. Though Michael’s hand doesn’t clutch back, he doesn’t move it away and, after a few moments, she realises they’re simply sitting holding hands, looking into each other's eyes.

He is beautiful in his own way. His stare, though intimidating, is piercingly blue, and his lips are soft and plump. She swallows, lashes fluttering in embarrassment when she realises she’s staring at his mouth.

Chancing her luck, she leans in, planting a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips. “I’ll be back at lunchtime, okay?” She whispers, before standing and moving towards the door.

He simply nods, fingers raising to brush over the spot where she’d kissed him. The sight puts a spring in her step for the rest of the morning, almost enough to forget about her being hacked. Almost.

She stops at a vending machine in the rec room on her way back to Brasenose at midday, deciding to buy Michael a Crunchie, an additional thank you for him going out of his way to help her.

As awful as having her privacy violated has been, she is grateful that it has brought her and Michael closer together. She had started the term wanting nothing more than to be his friend, and had royally fucked it up.

Now it seems they have mended their rift, and the prospect of being more than just friends is on the cards. Admittedly, he isn’t her usual type, but there is something about him that excites her. She hopes that once this is all over, this can be a fresh start for her at Oxford; her and Michael, just the caliber of intelligence she had wanted to associate with when she’d first applied.

She knocks at his door, hesitating when he doesn’t open it.

“Michael?” She calls out, brow furrowing in concern when he doesn’t answer.

They’d agreed upon lunchtime to meet, where was he? She tries the door handle and it’s unlocked, gingerly she pushes it open, peering slowly inside. He’s not there, but if he’d left it unlocked then he’d surely be back soon and wouldn’t mind her waiting inside for him.

She steps into the room, finding it much the same as before, only this time the bed is made. Walking over to the window by the desk, she stops to admire the view of the church, startling slightly when her bag knocks the computer chair, disturbing the mouse and taking Michael’s laptop out of sleep.

As she is about to turn back to the window, she notices her Myspace profile is open in edit mode in his browser. She frowns, a feeling of unease washing over her, as she steps towards the desk, her hand trembling as she reaches for the mouse.

She minimises Internet Explorer, gasping when she sees a folder open on his desktop, filled with the photos she had sent to Jake, all of them, even the ones that hadn’t yet been set as her profile picture.

Her heart pounds as she selects all of them, deleting them before clicking on the recycling bin to empty it.

“You didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to not create back ups, did you?”

Turning, she sees that Michael has returned, so quietly she hadn’t noticed. His fingers clutch at the USB stick that’s clipped to his cargo shorts, lips turned up into an expression of smugness.

Tears prickle her eyes, as her heart lurches, the only word that escapes her is “why?” as she looks at him with arched brows, her face pinched into an expression of emotional hurt.

“Why?” He repeats, cocking his head, advancing towards her as she shrinks back into the corner. “Because someone needed to take you down a peg or two.”

“You’ve ruined my life!” She cries, tears slipping down her cheeks, looking at him in disbelief.

This has to be a dream, it is too surreal. Any moment now, she’ll wake up and all of this will have been a terrible dream.

Only it’s not, it’s real, real as the heat of his breath that fans across her face as he looms over her, having backed her fully into the corner between the desk and the window. 

“What life? Pretending to play a part with people that don’t really like you? Using your pretentious choice in reading material to make yourself seem intelligent?”

“You don’t know anything about me!” She says defiantly.

“Oh, I know all about you. Hiding your scholarship from those vapid cunts, so they won’t sniff out your working class background and drop you. The variations of John Browning as your password - adding a different number to each variation doesn’t make it a different password, stupid girl.”

“I was nice to you…” She offers feebly, almost pleading with him.

He smirks, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, gripping harshly, forcing her to look at him. “You felt sorry for me. But it’s not me that needs pity, is it? It’s you. Poor little scholarship slut. You love that My Last Duchess poem so much because you see yourself in it, don’t you? Think you’re being objectified, treated unfairly. Well, let me tell you something, you are like that poem, but in the sense that you’re better in pictures than you are in real life.”

“Stop it,” she whispers, trying to pull away from him.

“Truth hurt, does it?” He asks, his grip on her face remaining tight. “That’s a pity. I enjoyed those pictures, really enjoyed them. It’s a shame the real life version is so whiny and pathetic.”

“I’ll report you,” she says quietly.

“Oh, I don’t think you will, somehow. You love the attention,” he tells her, dropping his hand from her chin to her shoulder, turning her and backing her up towards the bed. “I’ve seen how you look at me. If I wanted to fuck you right now, you’d let me.”

“I–I wouldn’t!” She stammers, feeling her face grow warm.

With a gentle shove from him, she topples back against the mattress, and he is quick to move over her, caging her in. “Liar,” he whispers in her ear.

She shudders at the sensation, despising the way her body betrays her, as heat pools between her legs. She shouldn’t be turned on by this, yet she can’t deny the way he sets her pulse racing.

“I haven’t ruined your life, but I could and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” He hisses.

The weight of him on top of her, his warm breath fanning against her neck, it’s dizzying. She wants to tell him to get off of her, to push him away, yet she cannot find it in herself to do so. There is a part of her that’s curious to see how far he’ll push this.

When she doesn’t say anything, he carries on, nimble fingers moving to the waistband of her leggings, tugging them down. “I’m going to treat you like the desperate, little slut that you are, and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

She whines, lifting her hips as he rids her of the bottom half of her clothing.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks.

His gaze falls between her legs, tentative fingers reaching out to brush through the wetness that has gathered there. She sees a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes and wonders if he has ever done this before.

She knows his moment of hesitation would be enough for her to push him away, grab her clothes and report him, yet she feels compelled to stay. If this is his first time, then she wants it to be her. She enjoys the dynamic of the power he has over her, while simultaneously being able to take something from him.

Wanting to bolster his confidence, urge him to continue, she sits up, eager hands unfastening his belt and unzipping his shorts. It flips a switch inside him, and he’s surging forward once more, pinning her beneath him as he pushes his boxers down just enough to free his cock.

“Tell me you want this,” he rasps against the shell of her ear.

“I want this,” she mewls desperately, feeling the head of him resting at her entrance.

“You’re going to keep letting me do this to you, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll wear that tarty underwear from your photos for me, won’t you?”

“...yes.”

He presses forward and is met with resistance, not having fully prepared her. He draws back and pushes against her again, repeating the motion until he’s fully sheathed inside of her. It’s exquisite torture, a pleasurable hurt to be split apart by him, to feel so full.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he stills and she can feel his inexperience in the way that he tenses, but isn’t prepared to give up when they’ve already come this far. She rolls her hips against his, a breathy sigh escaping her as she feels her sweet spot rub up against the head of him.

He screws his eyes shut, jaw going slack, before beginning to move his own hips, pulling back to slam forward once more, quickly finding a rhythm that suits him. This isn’t careful, considered lovemaking, they rut against each other like animals, both of them allowing instinct to guide them as they seek out the movements that feel most pleasurable.

She clings tightly to him, meeting him thrust for thrust, their breaths coming in hot, shallow pants.

“Fucking knew this was all you needed,” he mutters, “someone to teach you a lesson, see you for what you really are.”

“Please,” she whimpers, her hands sliding down to his backside to push him in deeper, causing him to groan.

“F–fuck,” he stutters, picking up his pace when he feels her start to tighten around him. “Tell me you’re mine, you don’t need anyone else, just me.”

“‘M yours,” she gasps, pushing her hips against his, zeroing in on the precipice she is about to fall from.

A particularly harsh thrust is the final shove she needs, and white hot waves of euphoria wrack her body, as she cries out in ecstasy. Suddenly, Michael is withdrawing, leaving her to clench around nothing as he paints her inner thigh with sticky warmth.

He collapses beside her, and she stares into the lightly fogged lenses of his glasses, their noses bumping together.

“Are you still going to ruin my life?” She asks, hazy with pleasure.

For the first time, their lips meet, a messy clash of tongue and teeth, that’s sloppy and wet, their breaths still heavy and movements uncontrolled. 

“You’re going to let me,” he whispers when they finally break for air, “because you’re mine.” Resistance is futile, she will let him. She wants this, needs this. After all, Michael Gavey is the type of person she came to Oxford to associate with in the first place, and she’s gotten exactly what she asked for.

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey imagine #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x y/n #ewan mitchell #michael gavey saltburn #satlburn michael gavey #saltburn #michael gavey fan fiction #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fan fic #michael gavey fanfic #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fanfic #satlburn fan fiction #satlburn fan fic

[cameronspecial]

Neverending Texts

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Rafe's small crush on his tutor definitely doesn't lead him to text her a little too much.

A/N: Insipred by this post.

Masterlist

Rafe’s education is not a responsibility Y/N ever expected to have on her plate. However, tutoring seems like a no-brainer for the girl who likes teaching and it is not like she could say no to Ward Cameron. Plus, Ward offered her an insane rate and even though her parents are rich, it is still nice to make her own spending money. Rafe and Y/N’s relationship is odd, to say the least. He always seems to have an interest in her, while she would rather be kept out of his social circle. This dynamic is only intensified by Rafe getting her number to set up tutoring sessions. He’ll often send her random texts that are so out of pocket, but she knows he is trying to invoke a conversation between the two of them. During all hours of the day, she will randomly receive jokes, facts, or gossip from the boy. Her responses were always a single word, not inviting the discussion to go any further. It never deterred him from trying every day though. Her hand shoves the hook through the stitch and the hook grasps onto some yarn to be pulled through. The buzz from her phone freezes her hands. She picks up the device and lets out a breath with a shake of her head. What is your ideal date? Normally, his texts would allow her a one-word answer; however, this one can’t be answered as such and she feels bad if she ignores it. 

She takes a second to think about her reply. Baking pizza with extra mushrooms and a movie night. Maybe watch rom-coms. She sets her phone back on the desk and goes back to her crochet project. 

———

He is pleasantly surprised she gives a thoughtful answer to the text. It seems his tactic of open-ended questions has worked. It doesn’t shock him that her idea of a prime date is something more intimate. Y/N has always been more reserved, so it makes sense she would prefer one-on-one time with her date. He likes that. That sounds like the perfect date, except for the extra mushrooms. We’ll have to only put it on half of the pizza.

Who said you were invited?

He chuckles at her retort and shakes his head. Why is there someone else you are dying to go out with? He holds his breath at her reply, not wanting her to say what he thinks she might. The little bubble with three dots displays her effort to rejoin. It stops eventually and no new words appear in a new bubble. He bites the corner of his lips as his thumb hovers over the button. He decides to bite the bullet, bringing the phone to his ear. It dials three times before she picks up. “Wow, moving on to phone calls to tell me your random thoughts. You really are getting more persistent, Cameron,” she teases. He can hear something clatter on the other end, “Can you blame a guy for wanting to hear your voice, Teach?” She giggles with a sigh. “What did you need?” she urges. He shrugs, “I told you. I just wanted to hear your voice. I also wanted you to answer my question and to hear if you are lying.” “Why do you care so much?” she questions, rolling her eyes. 

“Because if you don’t have anyone else on your mind, then I was hoping I could be the one to take you on that date.” 

“I have no one else, but why me? What makes me so special in your mind?”

“You just have this je ne sais quoi to you that I can’t get out of my mind. We just click, Teach, and I know you can’t deny it.”

———

She traces the surface of her desk with her crochet hook as she tries to focus on his words. “I know you can’t deny it.” She would never admit she felt the spark he was talking about. It’s been something she tries to bury deep inside of herself because their personality dynamic would not make sense. Rafe likes all eyes on him and to be as loud as possible, whilst Y/N enjoys a quiet night in. The more she thinks about it, the faster her heart starts to beat, telling her to say yes. Yes to a chance at love. Yes to opening herself up to someone else. Yes to stepping outside of her comfort zone. “Okay, let’s go on a date.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you #outerbanks

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

✮⋆˙ hey demons, it’s ya boi; platonic! nico di angelo x daughter of persephone! reader blurb

content: platonic! nico di angelo x daughter of persephone! reader blurb warning: language but it's so fun what??? author's note: I LEGIT HAD A BLAST WRITING THIS ONE AND I DONT EVEN CARE THAT THE PLOT IS ALL OVER THE PLACE I JUST- THIS WAS FUN YALL CAN DIE I WROTE THIS FOR ONE BITCH AND ONE BITCH ONLY: MY ASS

"okay, okay, say hi," you laughed from behind the camera, pointing it at nico, who rolled his eyes and shoved at it with his palm. the camera's view blurred, giving views the muddy images of what looked like gloomy woods with- were those faces? no, couldn't be, as the camera stabilized and zoomed back in on the pale boy.

"hey, guys, it's nico and we back on the hunt for ghosts!" nico taunted, wagging his fingers at the camera with a tiny smile. you laughed more before flipping the camera around to yourself, holding up above your head and beaming a smile

"as per usual, it's the stunning y/n, behind the camera, working her magic!"

"please, you barely do anything," nico taunts, throwing a smirk over his shoulder as her jaw dropped.

"are you shitting me?! i do all the editing! and the posting! and the videoing! and im the funniest! and-"

"woah, woah. who the fuck said you were the funniest??" nico bit out, his face scrunched up in disbelief.

"ummmm, like, everyone???" you replied, tracking him with the camera. you guys were steadily walking through the underworld, making your way towards the palace, where you two would have a short dinner and then explore, determined to prove to people that this was real. nico lead the way, the two of you cracking the occasional joke but you knew most of this would be cut out. nico swung the huge door open for you, to which you did an overexaggerated curtesy to. nico rolled his eyes, bumping shoulders with you as the two of you walked into the living room and plopped down on the black satin couch in there. then you focused the view on nico's hand, zooming in on the mcdonalds logo that stood out in the gloomy atmosphere of the underworld.

"he got the goods, the holy grail, if you will," you teased, laughing as nico, held the bag up and shook it towards the camera.

"you already know, we got the happy meal and the pancake combo for the baby behind the camera-"

"big talking from the bitch holding a happy meal at his grown age!" you shoted back and nico glared at the camera, but really it was directed at you behind it. he went to open his mouth and bite out a response but then hades walked into the sitting room, a godly newspaper under one arm and his black coffee held in the other. you instantly darted the camera to him, in his silk nightgown and matching black silk pajamas. which he did no appreciate based on the frown that took over his face.

"hi dad!" you and nico mused in sync and hades was instantly glaring at the two, glancing between then and the camera.

"what are you two up to?" he questioned, hesitantly taking a seat in the matching chair to the couch. nico threw a fry into his mouth with a shrug, sharing a knowing glance with you as you took a bite of your hashbrown.

"nothing. why would we be up to something?" you asked, sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him with a blooming smile. and you could both see hades cracking, knowing he had a soft spot for his wife's daughter. or as he preferred to call her, his daughter.

"whatever. do as you please," hades shrugged, holding his paper up, the front page about being apollo claiming that hermes stole some famous play about american history from him. you zoomed the camera in on this only for hades to jolt it down with a glare in your direction, "but put that camera away."

"but, dadddd," nico and you whined but were quickly silenced by another glare. you shut the camera off with a sigh.

"okay, okay," you huffed into the camera, a few hours later, spinning it around to see you running through what looked to be a very vibrant and well-loved orchard, "we're running to show you guys our dog. but we've got curfew, so we gotta be back in, what, twenty minutes??"

"closer to fifteen," nico corrected from beside you, also running to keep up. you groaned as his correction before you two broke a clearing, cheering as you spun the camera around.

"okay, so this is the line just to even get IN to the underworld. before judgement and all that stuff. and there, is our puppy!!" you cooed, pointing towards the large mound that was cerebrus. you and nico made your way to the dog, which was nearly jumping for joy at the sight of the prince and princess of the underworld. you handed the camera off to nico, scratching cerebrus' neck in just the right spot to get him rolling on the ground, presenting his underbelly for some rubs. then the scene cut to cerebrus slobbering all over you, you're jaw dropping in shock as nico chuckled from behind the camera, zooming in as the large drool dripped from your body.

"okay- okay, folks, that's it for today!! catch ya next time!!" you managed to grit out, nico laughing so hard he dropped the camera. and faintly before the video cut out, you could hear shouts of a woman's voice threatening to throw pomegranates at their heads if they miss curfew.

1.2 k comments:

@/user1: ummm, this is clearly all fake?? you'd be stupid to fall for this clearly ai generated video

@/underworlds-favs: um actually☝️🤓 lookin ass stfu-

@/user2: why your dad kinda...😏🤭🤤😮‍💨

@/underworlds-favs: AYO DONT TALK BOUT OUR DAD LIKE THAT??

@/peter.johnson: clearly fake, no cap. this was evidently shot in your father's basement. no hate, just facts.

@/underworld-favs: bitch don't play with me rn- YOU'VE BEEN HERE????

@/peter.johnson: i have no clue what youre talking about

@/percy.jackson: HEY DONT COME AT MY GUY HE AINT DO NOTHING

@/underworld-favs: THESE ARE BOTH YOUR ACCOUNTS-

@/percy.jackson: #freepeterjohnson

@/peter.johnson: #freepercyjackson

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #nico di angelo

[kalims]

Hi, there~! So I have this really fun idea in my head. I would like a headcannon in which the fem! reader asks the Dorm Leaders to be her pretend boyfriend. But what happens when the boys fall in love for real? Super fluff, please! Thanks!

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "i know this sounds weird but can you pretend to be my boyfriend?"

today's promise,

parts : one, two, three.

characters : riddle, leona, azul.

cw : book 1, 2, and 3 possible spoilers. implied harassment, fake relationship, eventual pining, fluff, this post is long-term fake relationship kinda thang.

includes : fem!reader.

wc : 7.1k words, 39.7k characters.

note : I tried to basically make the thing diverse, which included me stealing an idea from spy x family. the whole party scene basically 👩‍🦯 also I originally had no plans to post this yet, but since it's been a long time since I've active I figured to just put it. don't expect the next part to be out anytime soon lmao, I'm exhausted. sorry that this came out like a month and a half late

reblogs are appreciated <3

riddle rosehearts — when a creep is borderline harassing you and you need help to get rid of them. what better way was to drive them out with no needed force?

what the hell? you shove your newly acquired phone further under your blazer, shrinking a little when crewel's line of sight passes by your figure. you start praying to the gods, wherever, whenever to give you mercy when you feel another buzz sounding from the device.

they were anonymous, an unknown number that told you to just call them C. which is kind of hilarious since it just reinforced your impression of a troll on them.

it's been a few weeks and a few days since you've started to receive– admittedly concerning texts. of which you've brushed up as a troller, your previous thought ended up far too wrong when you received a mouthful of detail on your current attire.

which would've been normal if they also didn't pair it with a descriptive text about your classes, and what you do when you get home.

you sent the person a simple text to leave you alone, before pressing the block button. you didn't hear from them for a day. it was apparently temporary peace until you found a sealed letter in your seat, the signed name caught your attention immediately. 

– C :)

it's contents were too morally wrong to even say.

so you decide to entertain them for a while. getting to know each other, never really answering their questions that are too personal for strangers to know of. you started off asking their name, they didn't grace you with a reply.

next you tried asking if they were on the same yearl, it was simple. but it would greatly slim your suspects if they said yes.

they said yes.

next, you asked. what dormitory are you in? 

heartslabyul, C replied immediately. 

well they clearly thought that your knowledge of their dorm would do harm.

"hey, riddle!" the boy himself slows down his steps. peering behind him curiously, the previous stern look in his eyes slightly softens when it only catches of one of his close freinds. "prefect. something you need?"

"yes actually."

he listens dutifully. and at some point riddle just halts in his steps, and in turn you do aswell. "someone is bothering you? unbelievable! it's off with their—" he fumes. an immediate scowl gracing his features. there is a noticeable fury brimming behind riddle's eyes.

you grimace. a pool of uneasiness starts to rise in your stomach. it wasn't as though you were afraid of them, but more like..

the lack of evidence would most likely pin the blame to you instead.

"I'd prefer a more.." you gesture at his reddening face. "peaceful approach."

your method is certainly.. interesting it wasn't like riddle disliked it but he would've preferred to get the problem apprehended right away. but then again he can't really speak since he isn't their target of offense.

he looked embarrassed to hear your whole grand plan. he doesn't want to say no because who is he? a dorm leader to turn away from someone who is suffering at the hands of his fellow student.

riddle seems immensely more furious than you'd ever seen him when you inform that its a heartslabyul student. he would honestly just start marching onwards his dorm to interrogate the students themselves but even compared to the whole population of the school. there's still a lot of students in the heartslabyul dorm.

but since both of you figured it'd just do harm, you somehow convinced him to abandon his previous idea and proceed with yours instead: it's simple, probably effective if done properly, no one would question it since they don't know the behind the scenes, and maybe it's a chance to get to know riddle a little better. 

the first week was very awkward. you'd think he'd forgotten about it since he barely does anything to make the promise realistic but you threw the whole assumption out of the window since he seemed far too tense when you attempt to make a physical affection towards him.

thankfully his embarrassment and red face was usually mistaken for a blush of shyness so it had done a lot despite it being an unconscious effort from riddle. students had taken notice and started to gossip, much to his dismay. but then again the whole plan wouldn't have worked if word doesn't get out.

"us suddenly entering a.. relationship so suddenly would be suspicious." riddle says one day. matching your pace and looking straight ahead. as a whole, he was completely right. even after the whole overblot incident. you and him didn't really show any indication of actually being interested in each other romantically.

you nod. "yeah... but they wouldn't have any proof that this is a fake you know. therefore this could work." riddle shakes his head at you. "that is a weak contradiction."

apparently but expectedly, C caught word of the whole thing. and created a whole new number to start bothering you with. the first thing you see is them questioning you about the riddle, addressing the rumors and if they were true. in a way that depicts them looking absolutely crazy.

you would send the whole convo to crowley and hopefully get them suspended, even better if expelled but you don't really know the exact location of this person. you've tried getting an ignihyde student to help you, since they're basically geniuses with tech. but you've come to learn that they use public phones to contact you.

no not the free ones like from your old world. a whole, actual smart phone would be free to use in various stores in case of an emergency. if this was back in your world it would've been 100% robbed already.

(not canon I think this is for plot purpose)

the second week ends up going smoother than the last. you both agree showing affection in public but on a more minimal note, like how those sappy couples do. ace and deuce naturally find out first. walking into you and riddle seatedt on a bench with you casually leaning your head on his shoulder, to which he responded with placing his over yours. you both stare at the pages of a history book.

admittedly with great reluctance and the embarrassment he thought he'd gotten rid of.

ace had screamed so loudly that it made his housewarden jump from his seat and set his enraged eyes on the former. he was expectedly punished for possibly disturbing nearby students with the loud noise. and riddle took personal offense from his reaction alone.

you watch calmly from the sidelines, involved with the chaos as always though being only left to witness it.

"honestly dude? ew, why housewarden?!" ace groans. finally cornering you in the ramshackle dorm, traces of red paint all across his hands. deuce follows behind him, nodding and looking torn. of course, they didn't need to know so you just resorted to telling them the classic. "we hit off."

they didn't leave you alone. and had the most weirdest excuse to pull you away from riddle whenever they happen to see you two together. you can't tell if it's because they're lowkey protective or they just wanna spite riddle, mainly ace but deuce seems reluctant but involved regardless.

cater, of course finds out a few days later after your first year freinds do. I don't know what you expect but he's the main reason why the majority of NCR. are aware of your current status with the housewarden. if there's a fast way to get everyone aware of your status, leave it to cater and his trusty skills with social media.

cater might go a little overboard sometimes but he'd probably start of with something like hinting -> posting pictures of you and riddle (his first one was in a library, with riddle looking over your shoulder as you sat.) and -> captioning the posts with the most obvious shit like love birds. 🙄

...and he is also the reason why you are being spammed online by a bunch of curious fellow students.

contrary to what the adeuce had thought. trey was actually the one who found out first. riddle being unable to hide it with his obvious behavior and eventually confiding in trey with a red face and sputtering words. of course riddle didn't relay your secret, you trusted him enough to keep and aid you after all.

(only him.)

eventually the whole thing just starts to blend with his whole schedule. suddenly the hand holding, cheek kissing, and affection in general doesn't affect him as much as it did before. on the contrary, he sometimes finds himself enjoying it which is outrageous because he thinks it's inappropriate to feel such a thing towards you when this whole thing is just..

pretend.

in fact he starts to incorporate you into his life. he makes that he brews two cups of tea to bring over in the mornings, one for you, one for him. even better if you both caught moment alone in the gardens, just with the occasional chatter (with riddle making sure your student and personal life is doing okay) and the silence whom you don't know how it melted from awkward to comfortable.

as a second example, there is a special spot for you whenever there's an unbirthday party. sweets especially to your taste, or just general pastries like bread if you aren't too into sweets. (don't ask why you're now seated next to his seat, on his very own special table while your freinds are staring into your soul.) did I mention he completely disregarded grim and even asked adeuce to take care of him while he gets you all to himself?

thirdly. he'd grown accustomed to squeeze you into his schedule, another example being study sessions on a quiet spot in the library consisting of the torture of school, ensured after classes of course. but if riddle is beside you, helping you along the way surely it won't be too bad?

it all would've gone alone fairly well if azul and kalim didn't come barging in the middle of one of your sessions, kalim exclaiming over a new addition to their study group? while azul wears a suspiciously polite look. riddle nearly screams in suprise before going a little red at the realization–

he'd forgotten that he, along azul had taken the intuitive to tutor kalim. well, it was mostly him believing that jamil should have a break, therefore ending up up offering. he's not sure about azul though but he definitely had some kind of ulterior motive.

now the two are some kind of third and fourth wheels to your 'not dates' azul is now excessively asking a lot of questions. probably having noticed the now close intimacy you two share. some simple, and some far too embarrassing to answer.

you had to pull riddle away before he actually collared a fellow dorm head, there's a slim chance he will since riddle is always so formal, respecting and strict. azul didn't break any rules so there wasn't a need for a punishment.

slim but definitely not impossible!

he wasn't aware at first. too entranced to notice that his red faces weren't from embarrassment or shame anymore but from actual shyness. he seems to grip your hand a little tighter, spending so much time with you that there was a moment where he forgot he had duties to attend to.

ah.. you almost forgot, the creep that had been bothering you wasn't heard from for... days? your days had been going so splendidly that it brought you the blessing of forgetting about them…

as a final precaution you swipe open your messages and to your absolute delight the last time they texted you was about a week ago. nothing was heard which meant that they hopefully got the whole memo.

"riddle, thank you." you smiled at him one afternoon. riddle raises a brow at your frankly, rare thankful behavior. "for what?"

you beam at him, so blissfully that his hearts starts running laps. it had such a hold on him that he had to verbally clear his throat. "they're gone! I didn't notice but they haven't been bothering me anymore." who? they? who is they?

ohh...

oh..

you don't know if you were hallucinating but it almost seemed like the strands on his head, shaped like hearts, drooped as if it broke.

"so.. you don't need me--my help anymore?" he questions quietly. the answer is so clear in your head, but even you pause in silence. unable to answer.

riddle doesn't know how he got the courage to do what he had in the following moments. maybe a burst of effort to keep you with him.

he huffed. "hmph, prefect. you've stolen something from me." your face constricts into slight horror but mainly confusion is present as you point at yourself. "me? I have?"

he grabs your finger and navigates it to point at his chest. "yes. stolen items must be replaced. there isn't a problem if I want yours right?"

"👁👄👁" that was smooth.

leona kingscholar — when you've accidentally told your freinds that you're in a relationship in a spur of the moment, and now have to prove it to be true.. or else.

it was nice having freinds. other than a pair of boys atleast, you love ace and deuce but sometimes.. you'd just prefer it if sometimes we're a little calmer.. and not full of half hearted brawls that you always get dragged into.

socializing was a pain in the ass sometimes, and definitely hard to do when you know absolutely nothing about the new world. so you literally felt like some foreign kid in a new school, on a new continent, starting school. 

so you'd guess it's the reason why you started clinging onto a pair of ladies, just your age. they were attending another college a few ways over NRC, they were apart of a sorority. as crazy as it seems that those actually exist here aswell.

well.. not exactly clingy but you let them basically do anything they want to you. they're actually really nice. it sounds like you're just a loser but you'd just rather not walk up to someone and go. "hey! wanna be freinds?" it sounds way too awkward. 

"you're really pretty, you know?" A twirls a lock of your hair and giggles. you blink in slight embarrassment and guiltily stare at your shoes. "thanks.."

B perks up from the bed. "well yeah! im suprised you haven't got a boyfreind yet." she teases. behind her sits C, C grunts and not so violently pulls B from the hair which causes the girl to jerk back.

"OW??" 

"stop moving.." C mumbles. 

B sits up, exasperated. "whatever.. anyways! the house is gonna host a party next month." she points at you. "you in?"

you pause and think about your schedule. it's clean, right? finally, you nod. "yeah."

A grins "for once were letting in plus two's! you better make sure you bring someone. kay?"

who the hell would you even bring? well… ace or deuce would count but if you brought one the other is bound to start following as well. kinda like they come in a two in one package.

"speaking of… do you have anyone in mind?"

"ah.."

B leaps up and starts squealing. "oh MY GOD!! don't tell me you're gonna bring a boyfriend!" she laughs. slapping you playfully. in the spur of the moment you answer.

"heh… in your dre–"

"um yeah.."

they all pause. "WHAT?"

"so you're telling me, you told your freinds that you have a boyfreind? " leona scowls. leaning his cheek on his palm as his tail lazily swishes behind him peering up at you, looking half asleep.

he groans. "out of all people.. me, really?" you sigh and nod mutely. "sorry. it was in the spur of the moment, i kind of... blurted it out and they don't believe me."

leona makes another sound of seeming irritation. "so your pride is on line? fine.. remember, you're indebted to me after this."

he pauses. "oh, for the record. you're gonna listen to whatever I say. got it?" you can only nod. he was the one accepting after all, it hardly seemed like a fair deal but whatever gets him to succumb to your one wish.

this will be okay right? this will be beneficial to him, even better if it requires minimal effort

leona still can't wrap the thought of why, you've chosen him out of all students in the school, even one of your so dear, first year best freinds would be a better choice. he internally sighs at your carelessness. If you hadn't been so quick to be defensive then maybe he wouldn't be in this situation at all..

but then again he would still need to lift another limb if he ended up not accepting with ruggie being busy in the meanwhile. he thinks, watching you scurry around. obviously struggling and lowkey annoyed at his vigorous commands. is this how a king feels? to be able to get someone to obey without much complaints.

ruggie doesn't know what in the seven is going on and why you were like some kind of new, additional servant to the housewarden but he doesn't really care, if anything your involvement had made his life a lot easier.

and what does ruggie appreciate? something to lessen the load of work leona just piles on him! nice see you again prefect. now you're gonna be someone that ruggie's gonna use to skip out on all the work he deems to hard for his poor, overworked self. be ready. he's gonna work you to the absolute bone.

accompanied by lots of school works, upcoming tests and more errands from crowley. adding leona's needs didn't exactly help your case. if anything it made your headaches more frequent and, more prone to passing out because you could literally see your vision blur at random times in the day.

your 'freinds' ended up inviting you to some kind of acquaintance party. which you'd be stress free of going to if it weren't the fact that they insisted for your so called 'boyfreind' to come along. for a couple of freinds, they sure are persistent on humiliating you. but what can you do? they have more influence than you.

"there's a party, I need you to go with me."

you had told leona when he had his back turned to you. "hngh... what a pain..." you could hear him mumble and perhaps even the small disappointment of knowing that you'll be going alone. it's not that you minded his reaction to the situation, if you went alone then you'd be proved as a liar.

the party was in a few weeks. prior to the party then you'd go along as his errand runner until the day arrives. even then, there's still a small bubble of hope. despite the fact that you're sure he won't even bother. for now you'd trust him, leona isn't known for his promises. but he helped you during that time in octavinelle, even if the intentions were made to benefit himself.

..and if he just put up with your little plan. he'd get an obedient little 'servant' he can boss around with ruggie. if you can deal with crowley then you surely can put up with leona. at the very least, his commands are just him being his lazy self compared to the piles crowley would give you.

his commands usually being "fetch me another pillow in the closet." or "get me meat from the kitchen." leona being leona.. = never putting the effort to do something rather than snooze the whole day.

the first week consisted of you mainly getting more packed with work. crewel noticed the tired face you sported in class, he even caught you sleeping several times. usually he'd whip up a good punishment.. but, maybe you need it. of course he'd confronted crowley about it but you don't exactly know.

and your whole load got lighter, even if it isn't a lot. and using the confusion into advantage the following days goes by with you feeling lighter than you'd ever been.

leona still stayed the same. you don't even know why you went to him. he didn't make it believable nor initiate anything that implies that he'd chosen you. you were frustrated because even your freinds had noticed despite their being not even from NCR. you'd never posted about leona, only the occasional food pics you'd post on magicam.

they'd still pester you about showing his face.

of course. the school doesn't even know about your whole predicament so if leona doesn't want to, then why even bother? after all, they're not the ones who you're appealing to. slowly this whole things seems very useless since you'd just end up indebted to the lion who didn't lift a finger to help you.

"maybe jack would have been a better option?" you mumble randomly. carefully folding a piece of shirt that definitely belongs to leona, it's scent is eerily familiar. you fan yourself with your hand, it's absolutely hot in here.. how do these boys even survive in the heat?

unkownst to you of the lion that just walked in on the right time to pick up on your words despite still being far away from you. if there was one thing leona hated– it was being compared.

this is weird, what would leona want to call for you? "for your hard work, I'll give you a little prize." leona stretches. ears twitching pleasantly at the sensation of his bones popping. then he lays down and glances at you side ways. "what're you waiting for? come here." while you stood dumbly in the middle of the botanical garden.

and that's how you ended up casually tucked under leona's arm on a patch of green in the botanical garden. the grass tresses tickle your face as if it was caressing it. it brought little comfort to the racing heart you had, and you feared that leona could pick it up. "well this isn't bad is it?"

he opens his eyes and peeks at you, a little exasperated. "herbivore. calm down will you? don't catch feels for me so fast." before you could answer he's already fast asleep, even going as far as snuggling closer like you were his pillow!

"that's not..." you trail off. awkwardly adjusting your position as you'd tried to wriggle out prior, which ended up being a fail since you failed to recognize how strong a lion could be.. you sigh and succumb to your ultimate demise. might as well catch up on some sleep, right?

(is it really a coincidence for leona to suddenly pull you to nap just after you've looked so exhausted? I will leave you to interpret that.) <- a factor to his invitation, the minor one being him hell bent on proving that he's obviously better and not one to compare to.

"leonaaa.. leonaaa! I know you're in here.."

ruggie ends up finding his housewarden and the prefect of ramshackle snuggling into each other like a pair of lion mates.. er... lion and human mate?? was that even okay.. a lion and a human together wasn't very common, lions liked to stick to other lions. uncommon but you're not the only case.

the second week passes by with less stress than the first one. you're now somehow obligated to attend leona's mandatory morning, afternoon, and night naps. the fact that the leona himself is dragging himself to your class instead of actually sleeping to drag you to sleep with him. (that was confusing) is suspicious enough as it is.

so jack ends up having an urge, something to resolve his curiosity that he can't help. though he has an inner crisis, he ultimately ends up asking you about it to which you casually reply. "oh, leona? we're... together.." you mumbled.

what now 😃

jack is honestly quite confused. come on now. you and the housewarden? that's the pair that no one would expect. if he remembers correctly. you and leona barely talked to each other and even got into a few disputes yourself! it just sounds kinda bizarre given how he treats you like a nobody.

^ typical leona behavior to everyone else but still.. 

from what you know. leona doesn't own a magicam, hell. you haven't even seen him carrying a phone around. but apparently you were wrong when ruggie casually showed you leona's page like it was nothing. you woulda assumed it's just ruggie trying to mess with you if the followers didn't have the verified user of @/farena. people from leona's homeland struck you as people who don't really care about technology but guess you're wrong again..

(leona wasn't following back)

somehow theres actually stuff that the page has: for example a blurry picture of leona sleeping. and the caption being messy letters that you used enough brain juice to form 'unca leona'. you laugh and follow leona as a joke, scrolling through his page full of blurry pics and selfies from cheka. some from the king himself.

though you don't know if you're suprised if leona followed you back or how he was still awake. his 0 following now turned into 1.

now you have a curious big brother in your dms whose curiously asking who you are. and your freinds pestering you once again, this time quering about the mysterious follow of a prince! you almost forgot they knew your social media.

you end up ignoring them in favor of actually getting to know farena. you suppose that if you'd told leona he'd definitely get upset and stingy with you so you decide on not letting him know. farena exchanges greetings with you before going into a discussion about leona.

as if some kind of flip. he did a 180° and is now telling you embarrassing stories about leona. sending you old pictures of a young leona that you'd never thought you'd see.

what an entertaining night..

the third week arrived faster than you had thought. you were mainly focused on completing your tasks as well as balancing your student life. if anything both are pretty much the same. at that time, leona had pretty much given you access to everything he owns. he no longer makes a fuss over you arriving at the dorm, if anything. he seems pleased.

and sometimes he calls for you himself! last time you remember he was just about seconds from grumbling away because of your presence alone due to the confiscation if your dorm! and now if lions could purr you could pretty much imagine him doing so because he seems so intent on letting you sleep next to him.

on.his.bed.

did I mention he kicks grim out of the bed when he thinks you don't know as you both sleep? someone get this cat a break because you are both grim's blessing and nightmare. all these boys are doing crazy things to sever his bond with HIS henchman! >:(

oh you wanna sleep on his bed? wait for him would you?  you're hungry? fine. lion prides usually have their individual fair shares anyways. basically the epitome of "we share everything." this doesn't extend to him only you know, so there's unspoken rule that you have to share yours too. he doesn't really ask much but you're starting to question why he keeps taking your blankets, returning it and then taking it again after a few weeks.

(I'm sure you know)

surprisingly leona's attendance to class had been so frequent whenever you were somehow involved to the point where trein had asked you to 'help' him in class. by that he really meant being some kind of assistant.. not that you minded (you did) but why?

oh… crewel is his potionology teacher? he hates the professor because he treats leona like a goddamn puppy. so leona just skips it all out until somehow you had gotten involved. just when he was about to step out from the classroom to skip you enter to pass a stack of paper to crewel. the man asks you to assist him with some things.

why's he suddenly in his seat??

did I mention that lions are quite possessive of things they claim?

…

the weeks just blur in comparison and now you're walking to the party alone. shivering at the unfortunate winter blessed upon the streets of.. this world or whatever.. it's been only a few times since you've left campus, a majority only ever to visit the girls. 

you peer at your watch. he's 32 minutes late... you sigh, shoving your cold fingers in your pockets. what was the point in waiting anymore? you'd be more of an embarrassment if you turn up to the party more late, and partnerless..

the cold, merciless winter doesn't do justice against the icy feeling your heart adorns.

that's how you arrived at the doorstep of your freind, particles of visible snow clouding your attire. as they struggle to hold in their laugh. "you're late!" I know..

"c-pfft..come on in!"

you nod. dusting off the snow over your jacket and hanging it. it's too bad. you look down at the attire under your coat. cause for once you had actually tried to make an effort to make yourself look presentable. to try and make yourself look appealing even, in the slightest hopes of impressing…

hm. you shake your head and stand awkwardly in a corner, everyone doesn't seem  to notice you.

this normalcy--, you glance at someone making hand motions. then their hand bursts into a dance of fiery, passionate flames. --is something I can never get.

after all… there is no such thing as magic back in your world. it's dull, boring and certainly tempted to just pluck away all your hopes and burn it when you start high school. 

you ended up staying for more or less, half an hour. you let yourself explore the house, it was quite big. smaller than ramshackle but it looks more regal and clean. you're almost jealous. the food was good, there wasn't a lot of meat. mainly vegetables. 

the most you could do was escape to the front porch to ignore their never ending remarks. your phone in your hand as you engage in small, admittedly idiotic talk with your two best freinds, seated on a swinging, wooden..swing thing. housewarden collared me again. ace's text read. it provided you with small warmth to fight against glacial temperature.

you smile.

you don't have animal ears like the savanaclaw beastmen but you can almost hear a pair of footwear crunching in the snow. then there's a pair of shoes entering your vision. you look up and--

"leona?"

"this party's boring, let's go." he doesn't acknowledge the fact that he basically stood you up for like an.. hour or two? you always knew he was prideful. instead he engaged in a minute length staring contest. until he slouches his shoulders and sighs in defeat. "fine, have it your way."

silence.

"you know I set up an alarm, I missed it." you blink and stare at him from your peripheral vision, it looks like he's going to continue. "can ya believe that? I'm disrupting my sleep for you. tch, so don't act so sad when I've gone through all the trouble. all right?"

".. you don't need these losers anyways. all you need is me."

you stay quiet when he sits down beside you, spreads his legs and slides his arm behind you, stretching. like he owns the house. the swing creaks under his weight.

it doesn't feel so cold anymore. "I'm here now so you owe me." you shake your head. the whole thing was basically pointless but you were too happy to end the whole pretending thing. "what do you want.?"

he grins. "you."

you gawk. "huh?!"

me after writing the last part..👩‍🦽

azul ashengrotto — when you’re too curious for your own good so you strike up a deal.

"to sum it all up, you would like an experience?" azul hums. the slightest tip of his hat casts the ever mysterious persona over his face, making it more eery.

you blankly nod. a bit embarrassed to admit that you've come to him for the silliest of reasons: to experience a relationship to the full extent.

you weren't that desperate. just.. curious. you know what they say don't you? curiosity kills the cat.

azul assumes a confident look. "hehehe.. I can do that, aren't i so kind." for I, am gracious.

woah is this some kind of deja vu..

this time around, after learning through your past lessons. you've skimmed every part of the contract for any loop holes that might and will be used against you.

oh.. this whole thing was a grand plan was it? to get you to be his anemone.. servant? but wasn't he banned by crowley from ever using his unique magic? perhaps there's still some kind of catch that you haven't caught on yet. you cast one more suspicious look at the smiling azul before signing your signature on the very bottom.

anyhow, the details of the contract was for azul to help you experience a relationship. in return you'll be an additional help, whenever. if he needs a helping hand you'd be inclined to aid him.

there was this absolutely embarrassing silence that made you want to self destruct. because he's just there smiling like nothing is wrong as he tucks the contract into his... sleeve? what the hell how could that fit in there. 🙁

you shake your head just as he extends a hand towards you. when you look up he displays you an awfully charming grin. "shall we?" you take his hand. "where are we going?"

"I must not let a lady walk by herself, no? even it isn't night. it is still dangerous."

it was first thing in the morning when you set out to octavinella since you knew azul would be up anyways, plus there were less students around the campus. even your grim was fast asleep in the mornings, you'd have to go back quickly if you don't want him to make a fuss about the lack of breakfast. not that crowley provided you with it anyways..

when you arrive in ramshackle. grim is already on the front porch, looking gravely hungry. his ears perk up when he catches sight of you. and then droops again when he sees azul on your side, to him. looking very suspicious as always. "hey you! what're you doing with my henchman!" grim screeched. obviously still scarred from his previous experiences that weren't so pleasant with the octavinella dorm leader.

you had to restrain grim before he could start tearing up azul's coat.

the first week is relatively normal. and azul actually makes it so that you feel as though you're actually in a relationship with him. but you've both come to an agreement that the affection will remain to a certain 'professional' extent, as he is not entirely comfortable with it. which you've come to learn, he isn't used to it.

you once accidentally bumped shoulders with him when you were sitting on a long chair with a few other students, his glasses fogged up for some reason, his face was tinged pink and he jerked back so far that you thought he actually hated you for 10 seconds straight.

he kind of stayed more hyper aware of his surroundings after that.

I kind of got off topic so let's continue the whole thing going around the first week.

azul has made it possible to organize some kind of dates, exclusively only ever happening whenever he's sure that both of your schedules align. It's surprisingly a daily occurrence since the first and second year's schedule are pretty much the same. (if I'm wrong please inform me.)

it wasn't too long before the tweels found out. maybe a couple of days after you've made the deal with azul. after the promise of floyd leaving him alone if he'd tell them why he's acting to affectionate with the prefect of ramshackle, which ends up with floyd looking a little disappointed and jade, bemused.

"ehh.. that's too bad, I thought you actually charmed shrimpy.. your game is weaker than I thought."

"excuse me?!"

"fufufu.. most entertaining, azul looks flustered."

after more comments from floyd. azul eventually makes a promise that he will absolutely charm you to fall in love with him merely out of spite of his childhood freind. and you're just confused why he's taking the whole thing a lot more seriously.

second week is filled with vigorous efforts of azul trying to woo you after doing excessive research of your own interests. he isn't usually so fired up over floyd's teasing as he'd basically grown up with it, but for some reason he is?

you're just confused why he's suddenly so determined to treat the whole thing more seriously than before. you don't exactly find the sudden change unpleasant, just a little suspicious as to what made his transition so apparent.

you always 'accidentally' bump into azul at the most convenient times. it usually happens whenever a class had ended and there isn't another for a while. azul just smiles and invites you to sit with him for lunch. which is a suprise since he was so adamant on keeping the deal under wraps.

you could only sit beside him. silently weeping at the prying stares many had thrown your way. the twins ended up sitting in your table (you could've sword azul's glasses cracked when floyd separated you two and sat in the middle of you and azul)

jade only displays a cool, menacing smile as usual.

by then you'd gotten unusually close with the trio. finding out things you hadn't even assumed, like how azul seems so aggressive with the twins sometimes out of goodwill. now you have a pair of lowkey protective eels and a stupefied octopus that can help you for a price scam.

being friends with them had its pros, came with it was the cons. which included several of the students that tried to be freindly with you being less talkative, suddenly paling in the middle of the conversation. (unkownst to you about the two glowering eels behind you)

the possessiveness is given by all three of them. for a reason still unknown but you're still skeptical.

the information that this whole thing is just playing pretend would most likely be tucked neatly in the back of your mind. where you'd admittedly forget for a few moments, too deep to escape from the temporary loneliness and certainly too real to register that it isn't.

here's the thing. azul is absolutely great at deceiving, you're already aware the moment you learned just how many contracts he'd 'earned'.

and unfortunately for you. there was a time where you'd actually thought he genuinely loved you because the way his eyes just.. sparkle, crinkling up and the soft smile.. you just rather shake your head and convince yourself that it wasn't real, it never was.

"thank you for your help, as promised. I'll help out with whatever you need as payment."

azul's brows creases. "wha—oh.. ahem. I see, much appreciated. let's talk about the details later." he nods. uncharacteristically quiet.

there is a moment of silence before he speaks up again, looking more confident than ever. "just wait a second. would you like to extend the deadline?" you blink in bewildered and gape like a fish.

so all you could muster up was a small. "huh?" where was this going and where did he get the idea? you can almost feel your heart just about to swim away! the offer is so tempting but you aren't sure about what he wants..

you shake your head. "for um.. how long?"

he smirks. "forever."

okay I lowkey got embarassed writing that so bye 👋👋

🏷 : @dicetheroll @ravynous @gh0stbastard

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed ! #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst fluff #twst headcanons #twst scenarios #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #x reader #x female reader #riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #twst x you #twst imagines

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

I might be in love with your blog.. it’s literally been making my days so much better!

But hear me out this request I’ve had for literally ever and I think you could do it perfectly! So a ginger ready constantly being called a Weasley even tho they aren’t and this obviously catches the twins attention so they kinda start spending time with the reader. And then maybe George falling in love and thinking about Reader becoming an actual Weasley :]]] (also maybe molly being all like „well look at you you’re already a Weasley only missing the name“)

I really hope you get what I’m going for!!

And if not I’ll literally read everything you post it’s just soo amazing!!

i love this idea! i hope i can make it how you imagined!

MAKE A WEASLEY

Pairings: George weasley x Fem!reader Summary: ^^^ Warnings: none Notes: I try my best with every request, I took days to write this to make sure it's good, when you request something I will make sure I try my best to make it good so you enjoy it so I hope you do! I'm sorry if you don't like it, and if you really don't like it, I will do another one.

you were walking to your class when you got shoved, making you fall to the ground

"what where you're going, Weasley!" you looked up seeing Draco Malfoy, standing with a foul expression as he looked down at you

"what?" you raised your eyebrows, helping yourself up

he rolled his eyes and walked away, not replying to you

you had gotten that a few times throughout the years, it confused you, you weren't a weasley

you didn't have the name, let alone look like them at all, the only thing that you all had in common is the firey red mop on the top of your heads, although yours was slightly more washed out than the others

-

George was walking with Fred when he heard a yell from the other side of the Corridor

"Weasley!"

he immediately turned along with Fred to see who called out to them

Fred and George saw a random boy in Ravenclaw yell out again, running to a girl with red hair who certainly wasn't ginny

"didn't he say weasley?" Fred asked George who frowned

"that's what I heard" George shrugged

"well then who the bloody hell is she? do we have a sister we don't know about?" Fred wondered, fully believing his own words

"are you kidding?" George squinted his eyes at Fred

"no, c'mon he's leaving, let's go talk to her" Fred ushered George over to her as she sat in the courtyard

Fred stood in front of the girl and cleared his throat, making her look up

"hello? do you need something?" you asked, looking slightly surprised

"why did he call you a weasley?" Fred spoke up, curious

"oh- some people just do it sometimes, it's because of my hair, I've asked them to stop a few times" you blinked nervously.

you were sitting in front of two of the most popular guys, who happened to have the name that a lot of people call you

"right, because it's red. I'm sure you don't like being associated with our family, right?" George spoke up, feeling slightly insecure

"I mean, I'd prefer being called my own name, but there's nothing wrong with your family so- it's not horrible, if it's that big of a problem with you, I'll try my best to make them stop, but then again they don't really listen to people who they 'know' are a weasley" you answered

George felt a wave of emotion when you fiddled with your fingers

He knows what it's like to be bullied for his name- even if that only happens rarely now- and only by Draco and his goons

"it doesn't really bother me, we were just wondering s'all" Fred spoke kindly

George stayed silent again, letting Fred do the talking like he always did until he got nudged by him, giving him a look

"yeah- just wondering"

you smiled up at the twins, putting the book that was in your lap in your bag and stood up

"hey- would you like to sit with us at lunch?" George blurted out, not wanting to leave yet

"sure"

- you ran down the halls, George's hand holding your own as you and the twins escaped professor filch, the aftermath of a devious prank they had invited you to join in on

"hurry up!" Fred yelled out, noticing you and George slightly behind, George ahead of you as he dragged you along

"it's not my fault your legs are so freakishly long" you laughed, almost tripping over as George quickened his pace, your legs failing to keep up

you started to fall and squealed lightly when George rushed to catch you before you hit the floor face first

"careful there, Love" he huffed before making sure you were alright

you heard the hiss and the yell from the old owner

"come on" he helped you steady yourself and turned a corner, going a different direction than Fred

you followed closely behind, not wanting to fall again, that would just be embarassing

"get back here Weasleys!" you heard Filch's distant yell that got further away the more you ran

George snickered as you got to the grand stairs, finding Fred running up the stairs

he waited for you and started laughing at how good the prank was, glancing down at you and George's interlocked hands

he looked at you and raised an eyebrow with a smirk

by instinct, you let go of George's hand, making him look over at you at the loss of your palm's warmth

he watched as you and Fred walked into the Gryffindor common room side by side, laughing

he rushed up behind you both and listened as you gushed all about it

"that was amazing! I've never done something like that, quite thrilling if I don't say so myself! is that why you do it?" you grinned, wanting to do it again

"exactly why" Fred smiled smugly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the back of the red couch

"well that was just brilliant! can we do it again?!" you asked excitedly, making George's heart burst in happiness

he's never seen anybody that happy about pranks than him and Fred, to see you smiling and wanting to do it again warmed his heart

it made him feel proud of what he does, it's funny how one person can affect his mood and feelings

"well we do it all the time" Fred motioned to him and George "but you can tag along next time if you want"

"well I don't want to impose or burden you, I just think it's fun" you frowned, thinking he didn't want you to go anymore

"no, it's great having another mind to create ideas, speaking of, do you have any?" George asked

"yes! I thought of a lot on our way back here!"

-

the younger twin was used to turning around when he heard the name Weasley being called in the halls, and he was only getting used to the person trying to talk to you.

other than that, everything was great, he enjoyed talking to you, hanging out with you and he knew there was something there

he never would of expected it, especially for you, a person many though was one of his family members- he cringes at the thought of that

he wonders if you think of it the same way, if you find it weird like he does.

"George?" he turned to fine you sitting next to him, a curious look on your face as you smiled gently

the twin hummed in response, cheeks turning slightly pink as your pinky touching his hand that rested beside his thigh

"sickle for your thoughts?" you nudged him

"it's nothing, it would be a waste of money" he mumbled

"is it a girl? it is, isn't it?" you beamed, shifting in your seat to fully face him

you noticed the small blush that he refused to let you see, turning his head to look away

"who!?" you grinned grabbing his arm to make him look at you

George was never going to admit he was thinking about you, he had for weeks, he would think about you and smile

"nobody, don't worry" he sighed

"aw come on, I won't tell! do I know her?" you pouted, shaking his shoulders lightly

"no one, I don't like anybody" he denied

you huffed and sat properly, crossing your arms, staying silent

"hey?" George spoke up quietly, feeling as though you were slightly mad at him

"yeah?" you yawned

"how do feel about my name?" he asked out of nowhere

"George? I don't know it's a good name" you shrugged, not quite sure what to say

"no, Weasley, my last name" George corrected

"well it belongs to a wonderful family so I like it!" you nodded happily

George had been wondering what it would be like if you actually had his last name, he could imagine it

"so you wouldn't be upset if you had it?" he fiddled with his fingers

"if I had your last name? I mean I guess it sounds alright, Y/n Weasley, not bad" you chuckled

"yeah" he laughed too, scratching his left arm "doesn't sound bad at all"

the name stayed with George for days, his mind would scream it every time he looked at you and it threatened to slip when he greeted you

and Fred knew George's feelings for you, he could read his twin like a book and it was painfully obvious

-

it wasn't until a year later when George finally asked you out, your final year

he was planning his and Fred's big getaway for leaving to work on the shop and he didn't know when he was going to see you next, he didn't want to leave you, he needed you

over the past year, from when he met you, he knew he wanted you to stay, he knew that no other girl was going to walk into his life and be like you, make him feel the way you made him feel, made him think the way you made him think

he knew there was something there, and he desperately wanted it to happen, Y/n Weasley was a name he wanted to create for you, a name that he wanted his children to know, a name that he wanted to say aloud and not think in his brain.

Y/n easley was merely a name in his imagination, and George made it his mission to live it

he wanted to make a Weasley out of you, if you wanted

you were meeting the whole family for christmas, going over to the Burrow and spending the holidays with them for break

"Mum already loves you so really you have nothing to worry about, dad is- well dad loves just about everyone, unless your like- evil or rude but, you're not so you're fine, Charlie's only here for Christmas day and you don't have to worry about the rest" George rumbled, holding your hand as he lead you to the burrow

you weren't that nervous, George had told you all about every family member and you had no doubt that you would get along

George opened the door and let you in before closing it behind you both

you both had been at your house getting some things, making the rest like Fred, Ginny and Ron were already there, turning up hours before you

"we're home!" George called out, wrapping his hand around your waist and leading you through the kitchen to find his family

"oh, Dear there you are!" a short, stumpy woman with a warm smile greeted you, wearing an apron

"yeah sor-" George started, getting cut off by her walking past him to you

"look at you, you already look like a weasley, only missing the name!" she declared, grabbing ahold of your cheeks and squeezing

"right Arthur?" she turned to a man who stood at the table looking at George with a smile

he came up to you and introduced himself, everyone else in the room that you haven't met doing the same, some hugging you and the others giving you a hand shake

Bill started a conversation with you, talking about your interests and what you wanted to do

George cut it short, teeling Bill that he wanted to show you where you were staying and wanted to get you settled in before dinner

Bill agreed and George smiled, getting your bags

"i got them, don't worry" you shook your head, trying to take them off him, he only started walking towards the stairs

"c'mon"

you followed him up the stairs to his room, putting his bags down at the foot of his bed

"after a long talk with mum I convinced her to let you stay in my room, that's if you want, there's an extra bed in Ginny's room if you want it but I just thought-" he babbled

"I don't mind, whatever you want" you shrugged

"I better not wake up to you two doing things" Fred interrupted, standing in the doorway

"shut up, Fred, we won't be doing anything" the younger twin huffed

he left with his hands up defensively

George cleared his throat and waited for you to look at him before talking

"do you like it?" he questioned nervously

"I love it" you answered, bringing him into a tight hug

your hugs felt like it healed everything that pained him ever, if felt as though it got rid of every rude thing said about him, everything that hurt him, made him feel bad.

your hugs were something he never wanted to end, it was the medicine to his sickness that he didn't even have

"you know, after Christmas, Mum will do everything in her power to make us stay together" he soothed

"I wouldn't fight her on that"

he laughed "well you already are a Weasley, All that's left is to give you the name"

--------------------------------------------

#george weasley x fem #george wealsey x reader #fred and george #george weasley imagine #imagines #hp universe #oneshot #request #fluff #oliver phelps #x fem!reader

[fuck-customers]

https://www.tumblr.com/fuck-customers/740474153557164032/this-is-totally-a-dick-move-but-im-doing-it?source=share

I wanted to address a reply I saw on this post that I submitted. (I prefer to stay anonymous on the off-chance that someone could figure out who I am from my blog. The chance is EXTREMELY small, but if you read the original ask, you'll understand my concern)

Someone responded, saying that (I'm paraphrasing) by leaving negative reviews, I'm causing corporate to cut hours to my location even more and this is hurting me and I should instead leave fake positive reviews.

Ok I GET where you're coming from, I do, and I'm sure others have had that same thought. HOWEVER, as I said in my original post, I. WANT. THAT. STORE. TO BURN. I said in my original post that I've worked there several years (actually 4+ years more than any other employee at my particular location) and I've gotten shit on left and right. By the company, by management, and by customers and while I am looking for another job, it would make me SO happy to watch that shithole burn.

In the time I've worked there:

-My hours are always the first to be cut whenever "budget cuts" come around

-I regularly get scheduled closing shift when the other shifts CLEARLY have not done their tasks (as in I clocked in less than a minute ago and my manager can clearly see that the amount of work left could not physically be made in 1 minute) yet the manager is on my ass every few seconds to clean up after all of them and if my shift ends and I cannot finish, I get a talking to.

-I have been physically shoved by a manager and berated in front of coworkers and customers and that + the already stressful day I was having made me hide in the bathroom and cry. Then a few days later, another manager who wasn't even there that day heard about the incident (not the crying part-I hid) and made fun of me for a small mistake and said that I deserved the other manager yelling at me

-I spent my first year covering every single shift whenever asked and cross-trained myself so I could work in all departments and get more hours that way (🤡) only to be repaid by never getting promotions or raises (I did stop covering shifts after it was blatantly obvious that I would not get a raise/promotion/anything but taken advantage of)

-I worked the entire pandemic every day, almost to full-time, yet they refused to actually make me full-time, scheduling me just under (30-35 hours) so I was essentially working full-time hours without being able to get full-time benefits.

-An SM that worked there for a year apparently was threatened by me (though in no way was I after her job, I even repeatedly expressed that I had no interest in becoming management) and proceeded to fabricate an entire false story and reported it to HR as an EEOC issue in an attempt to get me fired

-Plus the multiple leads that have come and go that either treat all employees like dogshit and/or me, specifically. Talking down to me/us and snapping at me/us.

-Not to mention the disrespectful customers who see that I appear young and automatically assume I am stupid and/or incompetent, the most memorable experience being the old man who straight up asked me if I had brain damage and the (separate) old woman who straight up asked me if I was stupid and then immediately flat-out called me stupid to my face 10 seconds later.

PLUS: the store has been extremely noticeably not managed. We don't get enough hours to actually clean the store up and when I personally tried to start some cleanup projects on my own, I was actively discouraged and scolded by management. The place is a mess and actual customers have complained to me personally and other employees that I've witnessed about how shitty the store looks and how shitty the shopping experience is, so odds are, real customers are making the same reviews. I'm just filling in for those who lost their receipts.

ALSO: In the years I've worked there, I have seen several positive reviews from real customers, in fact the store used to have almost exclusively positive reviews, yet I never once saw any rewards from that. I even had customers personally go up to my manager and tell him how helpful and nice I was, blah, blah, blah and he came back and told me what the customers said and never once rewarded me and instead cut my hours when budget cuts came around.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[mixelation]

#5, #12 and #39 for the first askgame

get to know your fic writer

5. Do you like constructive criticism?

Talking about "constructive criticism" is often a trap, especially in fic circles, because everyone likes using this term but no one knows what it means. The word "constructive" implies utility to the writer and the writer's goals for their story; it does not mean the reader just says whatever they want "improved"/changed, no matter how nice or "helpful" you are about it. You cannot give constructive feedback to a writer unless you understand the context in which they wrote their fic and what their goals for it are. In other words, it is impossible to give "constructive criticism" unless the writer has actively communicated to you what they specifically want out of feedback. You must also then respect what the writer wants; giving feedback based on what you as a reader want out of a fic is unlikely to be useful to the writer unless their goal is to be as appealing as possible to your tastes (which.... don't assume that, jfc).

Many people in fandom cry "constructive criticism!" when they want to make demands from a writer to cater to their personal preferences, often with a little side of harassment. So, I might ask a question to readers with the hope of someone giving me actual constructive feedback, but no, I don't like "constructive criticism" in the way fandom at large uses it.

Also, sometimes the stuff I post was written on my phone on a bus, for my own entertainment. Why would I want constructive criticism on that?

12. How does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

I mostly write for my own entertainment. Sometimes the idea that someone will say something nice to me motivates me to push through on projects. Like, if I were 100% writing for myself, I would probably just not write a lot of otherwise "boring" scenes that are necessary for flow or info. But a lack of support probably wouldn't stop me from writing.

39. Share a snippet from a WIP.

from chapter 19 of Plasticity:

The filling of the first onigiri she bit into was incredibly spicy. She did her best to pretend it was totally normal, even as her sinuses started to run. The second onigiri was also spicy.  “I seem to have made a mistake,” Obito said, and then made an exaggerated noise of sucking snot back up into his nose.  “Why do you keep doing this?” Tori asked. “You know I like spicy food. It’s not going to work.” She was, actually, in tears. She shoved another bite into her face. She wanted to go buy more tea, but that would be admitting defeat.  “That’s why I keep doing it. Eventually it will work,” Obito replied, and he was close enough to her that she could see the rims of his eyes were red. “Russian roulette isn’t a fun game.” “Well, you’re playing it wrong.”

#fic: plasticity #annoyingly this ask meme won't let me copy and paste??? #ask meme answer

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast - Sneak Peek!

Rating: 18+ MDNI (no smut in sneak peak)

A/N: For my first Frankie Friday I'm posting a sneak peek to my first fan fic Hold Fast (a one-shot? part one? possibly more?). Thank you to @vyduan for being my beta and my write or die! Grateful to everyone who voted in my poll and @katareyoudrilling for encouraging me to post. Full piece coming Friday, Feb 16th!

Tags: no y/n, gymbff!Benny, reader is a powerlifting girlie described as short, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar, Pope owns a gym, alcohol, brief body insecurity and Frankie being down on himself, swearing (I'm new to this so please lmk if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 591 of ~3.9k

Benny was surprised to see you walk into Pope's one night an hour before closing since you always trained in the mornings. You had given him a short head nod instead of your usual big smile before stalking to a platform and slamming your bag down. 

"Yooooo, everything ok?" he asks as he walks over. 

"Does it look like I'm okay," you huff, aggressively wrestling your knee sleeves on. Glancing at him, you immediately apologize when he hesitates and takes a step back.

"Sorry, Benny. I'll be a lot better after I pick up some heavy things and put them down."

"Might help if you want to talk about it?" he ventures leaning against the barbell.

You finish tying your squat shoes before looking at him again with dejected eyes and sighing. 

"I just went on a crappy date with a guy from one of those dating apps," you sigh again. "He spent the whole time talking about himself and how much he works out. Then he had the fucking audacity to question me when he asked how much I could lift."

"Fucking asshole!" Benny feels himself getting steamed. 

"He just stormed out of the restaurant and left me with the bill when I refused to change my answer," you shrug, but Benny sees your jaw tick. "Apparently, I squat and deadlift more than he does and he couldn't date someone who could do that." You roll your eyes and huff.

"WTF! What a total loser. You don't need a guy like that who doesn't appreciate you," Benny replies incensed. He sees your face fall for a moment, eyes downcast and tight.

"I just — I've been trying to put myself out there again and it sucks," you mumble, cheeks flush with embarrassment. "It's also been kinda lonely since I moved here, and I guess I could just use more friends, too."

"I'M YOUR FRIEND!" 

"Yeah, my gym friend! We don't do anything outside of this hot, sweaty box Benny," you remind him with a small smile and playful shove to get him off your barbell. 

Benny decides this is completely unacceptable and immediately remedies this by inviting you to the next hangout with him and his ex-Delta Force friends at Redfly's, a local bar nearby. "You know Pope and Will already," he reassures, "Tom's the owner of the bar and he's an asshole, but he's our asshole. And there's Catfish — we call him Fish for short. We've been trying to get him to come work out here, but he's been busy with his new pilot job for the hospital. And he shares custody of his 3-year-old daughter with his ex."

He could see your brain turning over all the information he was throwing at you. You don't seem to react either way to the news that Fish has an ex and a daughter. As you adjust the bar height you respond, "You sure? Don't want to crash a regular thing that you have with your guys."

"Nah, it'll be great! They'll love you!" Benny's determined to get you to come. 

You hand him your phone. "Well... okay. Text me the details?"

With your phone in hand, Benny puts his number in to text himself and then convinces you to show him your dating profile. Between sets of squats you both take turns swiping on possible matches, Benny teasing you on your picks. Ever observant, Benny notices your preference for profiles with tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed photos. As you work through your next set, Benny sneaks his phone out and immediately texts Fish.

#frankie morales x you #frankie x reader #frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #benny miller #happy frankie friday #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #pedro pascal characters

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Burnt Marshmallows - Ona Batlle x Reader

A/n: something short and sweet, just like marshmallows, unless you burn them to a crisp... forgot to post this yesterday.

The game against United had gone well, well for United anyway, you weren’t quite sure even now how they had scored, but you knew who had scored. Ona Batlle. United’s new right back from Spain. She was talented, and you wouldn’t admit it aloud but she was stunning.

You weren't quite sure whose idea it was to have the BBQ bonfire night celebration (especially since Arsenal had lost), but it was Lisa who had told you that you would be able to roast things (preferably food), Lisa then got confused at the smirk on Jill’s face at you being told you’d be able to roast some marshmallows. Daan and Viv shared the same knowing looks until Lisa and Beth needed clueing in. It was something to do with you, marshmallows and national camp.

Now here you were, sitting in a lawn chair near the campfire that had been built by one of your teammates, you assumed Leah and Jordan at first, but maybe Lisa and Viv now that you thought about it. Jill was sitting on a lawn chair next to you, amused by you roasting your marshmallow carefully, whilst she sneakily ate unroasted ones directly out of the bag.

“You know I can see what you’re doing, right?” You watched Jill from your periphery, carefully watching your marshmallow as it began to roast.

“Do you want me to tell Beth that you didn’t give the others all the bags of marshmallows you brought?” Jill smirked, putting the marshmallow in her mouth then maintaining eye contact with you as she chewed.

Rolling your eyes, you glanced away from Jill, eyes catching onto the United players who were slowly arriving, you weren’t sure who from your team had invited them, but you didn’t mind. 

Your eyes lingered on a certain Spanish United player for too long as Jill began to laugh rather loudly, bringing your attention back to her as she pointed at the end of your roasting stick.

“Crap!” You yelped, pulling the fireball of a marshmallow out of the fire and blowing it out to reveal the crispy burnt shell of your marshmallow.

“We finally found something that distracts you from marshmallows… Manchester United’s Spanish defender!” Jill whispered, grinning as Jackie began to make her way over, followed by Ona herself.

“Shit.” You whispered, glancing at the burnt marshmallow then the approaching Jackie and Ona, then back to the marshmallow. With a slight grimace, you shoved it into your mouth, hiding the evidence. The burnt crispy shell made you cough slightly whilst the melted marshmallow goop innards clammed up your mouth.

“Jackie!” Jill waved, getting up to hug her whilst you waved, unable to reply with the marshmallow in your mouth, your eyes meeting Ona’s as she grinned at you, hiding her laugh at your marshmallow antics that she had witnessed.

“Guys, this is Ona!” Jackie grinned, not noticing Jill elbow you in the ribs, or that you were basically gay panicking while trying not to choke on the marshmallow currently gluing your mouth together.

“Hey, that was a really good goal of yours today Ona, wasn’t it, Smores?” Jill elbowed you again, hiding her smirk as a smile as you glared at her.

“I thought we left that nickname at the national camp. Anyway, it was a sweet goal!” You grumbled, having finally swallowed the burnt marshmallow with a slight cough.

“As sweet as the marshmallows that Smores stashed!” Jill began to pass around the bag, leaving you to huff and twirl your roasting stick between your fingers until Jill passed you the bag too.

Focussing on roasting this marshmallow proved more difficult as the Spanish defender’s voice sent shivers down your spine, her accent left your knees wobbly and her smile had your heart pounding. Realising that Jackie was asking you something, you withdrew your marshmallow from the fire, pre-cremation, not seeing how Ona’s gaze followed you, a sparkle in her eye as she smiled at you. There was something about you that intrigued her, and it wasn’t just your nickname, Smores.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #woso imagines

[late-to-the-party-81]

For the very first time - Chapter 3

[or 5 times the Cap Quartet slept with each other and 1 time they slept all together]

AN: Sorry for the delay - Easter Holidays and life were getting in the way, so today, you get a 241 deal - I will be posting Chapter 4 straight after this one. Set the same day that Sam meets Steve (and Nat) in CA:TWS @catws-anniversary. Catch up on Chapter 2!

Much love to my beta @kingofsorrow20

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Master list

Chapter Summary: Sam’s day started off weird when he found himself being lapped by Captain America when out for his morning run, but now Steve's extremely hot friend has appeared at his door. What’s a guy to do?

Chapter Relationship: Sam x Nat

Chapter Word count: 1.2k

CW: Strangers to Lovers, Flirting, Vaginal Sex, Nat going after what she wants.

Nat and Sam - May 2014

Sam was not expecting the knock at the door. He was only wearing a pair of sweats low on his hips, his skin still damp from his post run shower, but he went to open it anyway. Somehow he was not entirely surprised when he saw Steve Rogers' red-headed friend standing there, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. 

Sam raised his eyebrow at her and she responded in kind, the unspoken communication understood by both of them. He took a step back, gesturing for her to enter, grinning as he did so and as soon as he shut the front door she was on him, pushing him firmly against his hallway wall, her blood red lips pressed to his. 

“Nat,” she mumbled against him, and it took Sam a second to understand what she was saying, as all of his brain power was currently diverted to his dick. His hands gripped her waist as he stuttered out his own reply. 

“Sam. Sam Wilson.”

“I know,” she replied, and he felt her smile into their shared kiss.

There was no real conversation after that, just the blazing heat of lust as her delicate, but no doubt lethal, fingers trailed over his exposed skin before ducking under the waistband at the back of his sweats to take hold of his ass, pulling him flush against her.

Sam started to think he might be a little in love, because, god, did he have a thing for people who knew exactly what they wanted and weren't afraid to go after it. However, part of him also thought it was a shame he didn’t get to spend more time with Steve. Oh well, he wasn’t going to complain about this turn of events and, to be honest, all thoughts of Steve departed as soon as Nat’s hand shifted and wrapped around his cock.

The action did, however, wake him up and he started to reciprocate, pushing her leather jacket from her shoulders and trying to steer them to a more comfortable place. He was more than capable of playing this out in the hallway if need be, but he’d prefer a comfortable bed where Nat could do anything she wanted to him - Sam was in no way disillusioned enough to think he was in charge here, and he was perfectly okay with that. 

He got them to his bedroom, though, and couldn’t help the grin that took over his entire face as Nat shoved him back onto his mattress and began to strip out of her remaining clothes, revealing pale skin encased in lingerie as red as her hair, lips and nails. Okay, Sam was now a lot in love, because ‘Wow!’. He wriggled out of his sweats with more enthusiasm than grace and saw Nat smile enigmatically before she climbed onto the bed, moving her body over his, her lace covered core scratching gently over his rock hard cock. 

He shuddered slightly and Nat cocked her head to the side.

“You like that, Samuel?”

He bit his lip as his head tilted back, and he nodded.

“Yeah.” At his admission Nat curled her nails into his pecs and raked them down his chest, raising welts in their wake. Sam bucked his hips up in response. 

“Oh fuck!” he shouted. “You’re gonna kill me, aren’t you?” He wasn’t even sure if he was joking or not, but if she really was gonna kill him, this was the way he’d want to go. However, Nat just leant forward, her warm breath ghosting over his lips, as she undid her bra and discarded it across the room.

“Only le petit mort.”

“My kinda gal.”

He raised his hands to cup her breasts, absolutely struck by how pale her skin was. He could see some fading bruises along her ribs and on her forearms, and part of him wanted to kiss every blemish in the hope they would then disappear. However, her breasts were more tempting. He rolled each peak between his fingers, watching as Nat shuddered atop him.

“Please. Can I?” His words weren’t working, but somehow Nat understood him. She moved a bit more and then Sam was in heaven as his lips latched around one pink nipple, suckling on it greedily, while continuing to play with the other. Nat let out a pleasured sigh and Sam felt pride well within him. He wanted to make her feel good and was happy he was achieving his goal. He was generally a giver in bed, getting pleasure from his partner’s pleasure, although he wasn’t above being a pillow princess every so often when the mood took him. 

His free hand skimmed down Nat’s side, and he felt the firm muscles under her soft skin. He had the feeling that he could be rough if he wanted and she would welcome it, especially given how she’d already marked his skin. However, now wasn’t the time. Maybe there would be other chances in the future.

Nat shifted above him once more and Sam got the hint, switching to her other breast, but the air was driven from his lungs the moment he felt her take hold of his cock before it was then enveloped in her warm, wet heat. He still felt the scratch of her panties against his hip - she must have just moved them to the side - but then his brain was gone as Nat rode him, just taking what she wanted from him as he continued to lavish attention to her breasts in turn. 

It was instinctual to thrust his hips up to meet her movements, and Nat didn’t complain. Her hands were on his headboard as she moved, her cunt clutching and pulling at his cock, and Sam had no idea how he hadn't already come - this was by far the most erotic encounter he’d had in a long time. ‘Sexy assassin coming to hit him up for a booty call’ had not been on his bingo card for this year, but he was definitely not mad about it. Far from it.

Nat began to let out louder noises, a series of guttural moans and grunts, and Sam sucked harder on the tit he had in his mouth, flicking the engorged nipple with his tongue. His spare hand rested on the small of her back, helping to guide her movements that had got more erratic. It was only a few moments later when she threw her head back, looking like a goddess above him, and her cunt clenched hard. Sam felt the strength of her orgasm, the way his cock was almost strangled by her body and he fucking loved it. He couldn’t hold back any longer and spilled into Nat, his own cries muffled into the soft flesh of her chest.

She collapsed on to him, both of their bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. Sam was certain that he’s breathing harder out of the two of them, despite not doing the majority of the work. This didn’t surprise him in the slightest. 

However, when Nat finally climbed off him to flop onto his mattress, her skin flushed pink, Sam was surprised when the first thing she said was “So, do you think Steve’s cute?”

Chapter 4

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796, @christywrites, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog, @endlesstwanted

#SamNat #catws10 #catws anniversary #Sam Wilson x Natasha Romanoff #Sam x Nat

[vexic929]

For the song prompts: Straight Through my Heart for Ricki (or, if there's another character that fits better, feel free to write for a different character)?

yesssss it's perfect honestly lol

I looked down and my shirt’s turning red, I’m spinning around, felt her lips on my neck and her voice in my ear like I missed you, want you tonight (Straight Through My Heart) from this prompt list

info on Ricki here (Sloan Wilson and Barty Gordon to be posted)

Ricki had not expected to get shot tonight. Granted, breaking a murderer out of Arkham to get answers was probably not her best idea, but she was certain things would have gone more smoothly if Barty hadn't decided she was having some sort of psychotic episode and tried to stop her. If he hadn't told the damn GCPD her location…well, it wasn't worth dwelling on now. There was a villain on the run and Ricki was rapidly losing blood from the wound in her shoulder. She needed to stop the bleeding and fix this. Now.

She passed out instead. Because of course she did.

When she came to, someone was digging the bullet out and Ricki was momentarily concerned she'd been arrested by the GCPD. She pried her eyes open but was blinded momentarily by the lamp aimed at her wounded shoulder.

"You really did a number on yourself, little bird."

"Fuck." Ricki groaned. Sloan Wilson. Of all the people to find her, she'd have almost preferred Brie. Almost. "What are you doing here?"

"Here?" Sloan echoed, sounding amused. "We're in my safehouse. You're the odd one out, Grayson." She removed the bullet, causing Ricki to hiss in pain.

"Okay, fine. Why the hell am I here then? Why are you," she gestured vaguely to her shoulder.

"Would you have preferred I left you to bleed out?" Sloan asked dryly, dousing the wound in antiseptic.

"No, but-"

"Then shut up and let me work." Sloan interrupted. "Did Mommy Bat never teach you not to look a gift horse in the mouth?"

"I don't trust you to do anything without payment." Ricki said, ignoring the teasing jab.

"We'll call it a favor owed, little bird. Now hush." Sloan said as she began stitching the wound closed.

Ricki fell silent, surveying the safehouse, or what she could see of it from her prone position. It was sparse and dark and most of the furniture that was there had a layer of dust from disuse. It didn't seem like this was a safehouse Sloan used often. That was likely intentional, she probably didn't want Ricki knowing the location of any other safehouses.

Ricki was so distracted she didn't notice when Sloan taped gauze over the wound and shut the first aid kit, nor did she notice when the older woman took the opportunity to kiss her. Ricki's brain stopped working for far longer than she'd like; Sloan's lips were surprisingly soft and Ricki didn't even try to stop her as the older woman shoved her tongue into her mouth. She didn't come to her senses again until Sloan started trying to undress her the rest of the way.

"What the fuck?!" Ricki demanded, shoving Sloan away hard. Sloan just laughed.

"Are you really so surprised?" She asked as she stood. "You and I have been dancing around this for years, Grayson."

Ricki flushed with anger and embarrassment, tugging her shirt back on properly and moving to stand. "Thanks for the patch-up." She muttered.

"Leaving so soon?" Sloan asked, walking over to block the doorway. She reached out to caress Ricki's cheek in a way that sent chills down her spine. "You can't resist this forever, little bird. We both know it."

"I'm taken." Ricki said flatly.

"For now." Sloan purred, leaning in close enough for their lips to almost touch.

"I hate you." Ricki spat.

"Likewise." Sloan replied easily, before closing the gap between their lips and kissing Ricki harder than before.

Ricki was torn between hating herself for responding to the kiss and not wanting it to ever end. It took all of her willpower to push Sloan away with a growl. "Get out of my way." She muttered, shoving past her and stalking towards the door.

"I'll be seeing you again soon, Grayson." Sloan called after her, laughing as Ricki slammed the door shut behind her.

#vexic answers #vexic lives #vexic writes #ask game #writing prompts #vexic ocs #ricki grayson #earth 63 #earth-63 #practically-an-x-man #practically an x man #barty gordon #bartholomew gordon #sloan wilson

[notmoreflippingelves]

@saemi-the-dreamer asked: Esteban: 2, 7, 18, 19 and 21? :D

As I mentioned in my initial reply to the ask, I made a separate post for Esteban, since--as will surprise no one--I really rambled on A LOT about him. And it wasn't fair to shove all my EsteRamblings into the same, much shorter post with Gabe.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Honestly, pretty much everything about Esteban's character journey in S3 makes me absolutely INSANE (in the best way). But I think the thing that makes me most feral of all is the moment when he falls into the crystal well. His sparkly new outfit and stupid hairdo. The fact that the narrative has visibly and thematically linked him via this shared experience with Elena for the entire rest of the show. The symbolism of him being given the power to run away (literally and metaphorically) from the problems that he has caused. The fact that the show will ultimately end with him not running away but instead running towards something (Elena, specifically to save her from the problem Esteban himself caused). It's just... they did all this to me, an English major, and expected me to be normal about it. The audacity.

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

I like it when Esteban is *included* in things. While I wouldn't say he gets as much focus as the four amigos or Isabel, he still does get a good bit of art and a reasonable amount of fic. And its honestly nice to have a blorbo who isn't just shamelessly ignored (*cough Jean Innocent *cough) or vilified to the point of OOC-ness (*cough Kristoph Gavin cough*) , or used almost exclusively as a plot device to facilitate the fandom preferred ship of which they are not part of (both of the others).

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

"Admire" is a weird way to put it as it makes it sound as though the dynamic is or should be aspirational/healthy. And I'm honestly having trouble coming up with one that fits that particularly description. I guess either Isabel or Francisco would be closest to meeting that description. But I don't really have too much to say about them right now.

So I am just going to go ahead and treat this question as "relationship that I find interesting and enjoy watching." And honestly, there is a LOT of them. Obviously his relationship with Elena is arguably the building block of the entire show and naturally, I love and cherish it with my entire heart. But I already ramble too much about it so I won't do so here.

I also find his history and complicated relationship with Victor fascinating. The two are clear foils of each other and very shippable ones too, and so my little English major brain/rare pair loving self gets a lot of mileage over the little that we see of them together. But we really only get a single episode of the two of them interacting. (Apart from a few moments in "The Magic Within" and Esteban being mentioned a few times in "The Lightning Warrior") so there's really only so much that I can say about them. And a lot of what I love about them is really just head canons/parts of my fic, so it could be totally ooc.)

Similarly, I think his dynamic with Dona Paloma is fun to watch and has a lot of interesting potential, but we really only scratch the surface of it. The narrative lets them be temporary allies or business rivals for the sake of a given episode's plot, but its rarely done in a way that adds something new or interesting to their relationship. (When Esteban + Paloma political shenanigans happen, its rarely used to advance either of their character developments and when it is, it's usually just Paloma's..as Esteban gets most of his development in other episodes).

So, I feel like I have to say that the most-interesting-and engaging Esteban relationship (apart from Elena) has to be Naomi. The two of them have a really interesting dynamic to watch and their relationship specifically (as opposed to just the two of them as individual characters) gets a good amount of direct focus. Whether Esteban is sniping at Naomi from across the Grand Council table, begrudgingly accepting her as a capable colleague by the end of "Finders Leapers," teaching her to waltz (in order to show up Paloma) in "My Fair Naomi" or clinging to her when Valentina's carriage goes out of control, the two of them don't just steal the scene but positively abscond with it in the most delightful way. Plus, I love the parallels of Naomi ending the show in Esteban's former position as Chancellor. (I like to headcanon that she's gonna end up seeking a lot of advice from him for her new role and may even recruit him as her number two. He has 41 years of valuable experience that it would be shame to waste).

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

This is hardly a surprising answer, but...I do not particularly care for his relationship with Luisa. Esteban was orphaned when he was 9 at most, so he barely remembers his mother. The closest thing to a mother that he does remember is the grandmother who raised him. He needed lots of love and validation and attention, and based on what we see in canon, Luisa didn't give him nearly enough. It took years for her to realize they'd left him out of her "favorite" family painting, the flashbacks in "Dias de las Madres" suggest that she was unaware of just how lonely and vulnerable baby!Esteban was even knowing that he had just lost his parents, she gives a pretty clear impression of Elena being her favorite grandchild ( even before Esteban's secret comes out) which I am sure did *wonders* on baby!Esteban's already fragile self-esteem, and in "Coronation Day," even after she knows that Esteban helped save the kingdom (including both her and Elena), she still side-eyes Elena when Elena says that she has forgiven Esteban. tfw you sacrifice your life for your cousin's (who is also your grandma's fave) and risk it again to banish the evil time spirit, but it's still not enough to earn a long-overdue hug from your granny.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Give him very specific and sexual Shuriki-related trauma. I mean to be fair, it's not that I enjoy it so much. It's just there in my head and it happens even when I try to make fluffy and silly little plot bunnies. I would say my favorite thing that I actually enjoy doing and make an effort to do is just aggressively validate him and his feelings since he doesn't really get much of that in canon. I like having characters tell him how much he means to them, and I like for them to genuinely mean it. I like to tell him that he is capable of being loved (romantically and/or platonically ) and has the right to be loved. I like for people to recognize that he has been through so damn much and is still living with the scars that the Dark Times have left on his mind, heart, and soul. I like for other characters to come out and tell him that he's important to them, that he's fundamentally a good and worthy person even if a flawed one who lost his way for awhile, I like having characters tells him that they enjoy his company. And perhaps, most of all, I like having characters (especially Elena. but also Victor, Naomi, and probably anyone else) feel protective of him. To have them promise to take care of him and make sure that he never has to feel alone, forgotten, unloved, or helpless ever again. So basically, my favorite thing to do is aggressively project onto him and give him all the sorts of things I would want for myself as wish-fulfillment.

My least favorite thing that I sometimes see done in fic is when past (or present) Shuriki/Esteban is genuinely romanticized (as opposed to treated as inherently abusive/dubiously consensual). When their feelings are assumed to be mutual, genuine, healthy (if admittedly unconventional/unexpected), and redemptive. Particularly when Esteban tries to "save" Shuriki from Elena and/or "redeem" her from her prison cell, because he loves Shuriki/knows that she isn't really "all bad." Because no, in my view, Shuriki is far beyond any hope of redemption, and no one in Avalor would know that more than Esteban, who was forced to stay by her side and serve her for 41 years.

Now, I do think it's possible that Esteban may have developed a little bit of Stockholm syndrome towards Shuriki, based on the length of time they worked closely together, how utterly dependent on her that he had to be just in order to survive, and how desperate he's always been for just a little bit of attention/affection. But again this wouldn't be real, genuine love. At most, it would be physical attraction, and a conditioned learned dependency on her as a survival mechanism. And given the huge power imbalance between them, there's also this inevitable question of any physical and/or emotional relationship being built on a foundation of dubious consent and sexual harassment (at best).

Given that Shuriki does seem shocked and genuinely hurt when Esteban finally stands up to her in "Secret of Avalor," I think it's also possible that she did grow to care for him as much as she could possibly care for anyone. But I also think that the closest to "love" that it's possible for her to feel is casual affection (similar to what one might feel for a favorite toy) or possessive lust.

And um... so no, I do not think Shuriki is capable of love and even if she was, I don't think it would be possible for her to be rehabilitated by/through love. And even if she was, Esteban is the absolute last person I would want to do said rehabilitation work.

Shuriki personally murdered multiple members of Esteban's family, conquered and terrorized his country, and then made him do all the work of managing Avalor while giving him none of the credit. He was a stupid teenager when they met (and from what we can tell, she seems to have been at least 5-10 years older than him...possibly a lot more if she'd already started magically de-aging herself), . As such, she easily manipulated him by preying on his youth, insecurity, and naivety. (Honestly, they give me BIG "Edmund Pevensie and Jadis the White Witch" energy. Baby!Esteban was a bit older and presumably *a bit* smarter than Edmund, but still very naive and very vulnerable and therefore very susceptible to the corruptive powers of someone significantly older, crueler, and more powerful than he. )

So, it makes me super sad and uncomfy to think about Esteban wanting to be and being responsible for personally saving the life/ soul of the person who has corrupted and controlled every aspect of his life since he was 17-18. He deserves better than that. Even if I still like giving him extra trauma and having him wrestle with it.

#elena of avalor #esteban flores #chancellor esteban #even if no one else got me; i know the crystal well of takaina got me #do i hear an amen to that? #so much enrichment for my literature major enclosure provided by such a silly little plot device #ah yes : the crystal well of soulmate coding; narrative foils; and symbolic deus ex machina #we've all seen it #anti-esteriki #well only anti in the way that its sometimes shipped; i do enjoy the really dark content #it makes for peak esteban woobification #i just want him to be peak sad pretty boy with his enormous and pretty 'sad boy' eyes

[hangmanbradshaw]

Steph! I only just saw your post about your WIPs (forgive me for missing any sort of update from you - I blame family 🤣).

Can I be super greedy and request both the proposal and wedding? Although, reading all the other snippets has been amazing so I bow down to you only picking one if that is preferable.

I’m already dying to read some of these.

Absolutely you can!

Sooooo the proposal:

“Jake.”

He looked up at the familiar voice. It was a voice he’d dreamed of frequently, though not usually in a good way, apart from the few dreams where that voice was breathing against his ear instead of snapping at him. Those dreams were almost worse than the stress dreams. He wasn’t sure what it said about his psyche that he occasionally had sex dreams about the devil incarnate, but, well, that was a thing to add to the list of his future therapy appointments he was sure he’d need after this job.

“Mr. Bradshaw, good morning.” He replied with a sunny smile. 

Bradley, as he referred to him only in his head, stopped near his desk. He looked as he always did- dark curls gelled back, scruff lining his jaw, a suit that fit perfectly hugging his body. It was a shame such a nice package had to hold such a miserable bastard, he thought. Bradley’s eyes were trained on his head, and he itched to fix his hair, sure if must’ve looked like he’d just rolled out of bed because…he had.

“Morning.” Bradley said, a little oddly. His eyes didn’t move.

Jake blinked several times when no barking order immediately followed it. He wasn’t used to getting a relatively normal greeting and he momentarily wondered if he was still dreaming. 

“Anything I can do for you this morning, sir?” He asked with that bright smile he’d perfected.

Bradley finally snapped out of it, blinking and shaking his head a bit. He cleared his throat and said, “I’ve got meetings. Hold my calls.” He stared again at his face, and Jake suddenly remembered he was still wearing his glasses, not something he usually did at work. Bradley added on, almost awkwardly, “please.”

The man walked into his office after that, leaving Jake to gape and wonder if he really was still dreaming. 

“Hey, man. Late night?” Javy asked as he popped his head over the partition of the cubicles. 

He shook his head and turned to focus on Javy. “Yeah, had a date with that guy.”

“The male model?”

“He’s a librarian.”

“Same difference.” Javy waved him off. “You gonna see him again?”

“I think so.”

A throat cleared behind him and he whirled around. Bradley was standing there with that pinched expression he got when he was pissy. 

“I said hold my calls, not gossip.”

He blinked and stood a bit straighter. “Right, sorry.” He glanced down at the box Bradley was awkwardly clutching in his hand. “You need me to do something with that?”

Bradley blinked, surprised, as if he’d forgotten about it. He shoved it behind his leg and said, “No. Get back to work, and fix your hair. I need you to come up to see the board with me in a bit.”

Bradley was gone before he could respond. He stood there, blinking after him, confused as hell by the rollercoaster of the morning. 

Wedding:

“Or ever” Jake mumbled to himself. Rooster pinched his side.

“How long’s a while?” Mav asked.

Rooster cringed. His voice raised an octave as he replied, “Eight months?”

“Eight months?!”

“You can’t say anything! We’re telling everyone at the wedding.”

Jake was pretty sure Mav was about to have a coronary. “Does anyone know?!”

“Not exactly…” 

“Where have you been hiding him? He’s not exactly pocket sized.”

Jake tried to hold in the snort. Rooster gave him a look.

#asks #tag games #my fics #god I have so many more ideas already lol

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Music is life; Eddie Munson x reader

*Author’s note*

Well this is a first time for everything, although I’ll be honest I’ve been wanting to do a Stranger Things fanfic for awhile (like around s.2) but ever since the first episode of s.4 this man Eddie Munson has STOLEN my heart (and YES I’M STILL NUMB WITH WHAT HAPPENED). So I can speak for everyone that we NEED some Eddie fluff so I DELIVERED!!! Now there’s NO SPOILERS HERE, in fact I’d imagine this is as a PRE S.4 oneshot. Hope you all enjoy this and if there’s anymore Stranger things requests you wanna send my way, I’ve opened it up as a FANDOM TO WRITE just look at my pin post and see what character’s I’ll do.

ALSO SIDE NOTE. PLEASE LISTEN TO THE FILM SCORES I’VE LISTED. (honestly too lazy to do links plus you guys can just search them up on youtube or whatever streaming music service you use to set the mood).

Warnings: fluff, flirty Eddie, swearing.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@queen-paladin​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@peter-parkers-cullen-nerd​

__________________________________________________________

The chaos of lunchtime was the perfect time for me to escape to my music.  Now while some people would be listening to the latest pop artist, new Queen song, or for people like a certain boyfriend of mine, drown the world out with heavy metal. Me, well I prefer to listen to the great scores of my favorite movies, today’s mixtape was Raiders of the Lost Ark.

I sat with the other ‘band geeks’ as I fingered on the table each note of the main theme when sitting down beside me was my bffl Robin Buckley.

“What’s on the score box for today?”

“Raiders of the Lost Ark.” I replied pausing the song and removing my headphones.

“Ahh, your sexy go to movie.” She teased.

“Hey any chance to see Harrison Ford’s chest is a win in my books. Didn’t see enough of that in Star Wars.”

“I swear you’ve got the weirdest taste in actors.”

“Oh you’re just jealous cause a character like Indy can get a girl like Marion and you can’t. Don’t deny it! Last time I was at the video store and Steve had it playing in the background, you kept staring at her like the way you stare at Vickie.” She shushed me before tossing one of my French fries at me.  I gawked at her and threw a fry at her which made her laugh.

“Backtracking away from my failed attempts at a love life, how are things going with yours?” she asked me.

“Great. Couldn’t be better.”

“You know I still sometimes can’t believe that you and Eddie Munson are a thing.” I shrugged.

“He’s really not so bad once you get to know him. We’re both nerds, enjoy music, and are basically all types of insanity wrapped up in a sack trying to survive in this fucked up world that is high school.”

“One thing though, your music tastes are way beyond being the same thing.”

“True. He tries to get me over to the dark side but I refuse. Sorry but his metal taste in music sucks.”

“Which surprises me that you both have stayed together for a year.”

“Oh trust me Rob. We have our fights about it, not in public but they can get pretty nasty.”

“Oh by nasty you mean swapping spit with each other to try and make your points across.”

“We do not swap spit. He tries to give me hickeys.”

“Same thing.” I shoved her arm as I stuffed some fries into my mouth.

“You know, instead of hassling me about my love life, why don’t I help you with yours?”

“God I swear you’re worse than Steve.” I grinned.

“Come on songbird, you know I care about you right? Band geeks in diapers remember?”

“Yeah, yeah nightingale. Band geeks in diapers.” Since Robin and I had been besties since we were practically babies, we always called each other a type of bird (and since we both love music and been taking band since middle school together) she calls me Nightingale since they’re the most passionate singers in the bird realm, and I call her songbird cause of the way she always plays her instruments so beautifully.

“And hell I could be your wing-woman if you ever need me too. You know I could give a crap about what people say about me. They already rat on me for both being in band and for dating Eddie.”

“As much as one would appreciate that, I don’t want you to be looked at as the ‘freak of sexuality’. I’ll just…..find my own way. Besides Steve and I are hoping to combine our failed relationships together to hopefully find the right match for us. I need his confidence and he needs my perfect perception on what he wants.”

“I’m not gonna voice out on what I think on what that love child is gonna look like.” She shoved me as I chuckled. “Kidding! Kidding. Hey speaking of that lovable dingus, could you tell him to stop stalking me and Eddie on our dates?”

“Oh god, what’d he do now?” she whined.

“He came into the diner, in probably the worst disguise ever. Fake mustache and everything, even tried to pull off the worst Irish accent I’d ever heard.”

“Are you serious?”

“Robin. He told me pip-pip da-doodley-do.” She cringed but also laughed. “I swear Steve’s a sweetheart, especially after what we went through with the—you know Russians. But sometimes he can be such a—”

“Overbearing dumbass? Yeah I totally get it. He’s the same with me. But I’ll talk to him, get him to lay off before your next outing with your man.”

“Thanks Robin, I owe yah.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said with an evil, cunning grin. I shook my head at her and went back to listening to Raiders for the remainder of lunch.

Once school was over, I walked towards the isolated picnic table deep within the woods in the back of the school.  I had traded out Raiders of the Lost Ark for Empire strikes back and I fast forward the mixtape until I knew it would lay in (what I would also call mine and Eddie’s love theme) ‘Han Solo and the Princess’.

I sat along the table waiting patiently as I allowed the gently intro of the love theme take me away.  It wasn’t until the horns started playing when I felt two hands cover my eyes and my right headphone was removed.

“You really shouldn’t leave yourself vulnerable like this. You never know what kind of dangers lurk in these woods.” Eddie’s voice whispered teasingly in my ear.  I giggled and turned to face him as his hands removed themselves from my eyes.

“Oh really? And what kind of scoundrels should I be on the lookout for?”

“Scoundrel?” he said in mock offense as he took my hand in both of his gently squeezing it (much like Han did with Leia in Empire). “Scoundrel?” he repeated with a smirk. “I like the sound of that.” In timing with the music I could feel my heart fluttering hard against my chest and my breath nearly being taken away.

“Stop that.” I couldn’t help myself but say.  Thankfully Eddie and I share the same love for quoting films at each other as he said.

“Stop what?”

“Stop that. My hands are dirty.”

“My hands are dirty too, what are you afraid of?” Eddie said squeezing my hand once more, even giving it a soft massage (it felt twice as good since my last class was English and we had to write an essay for the whole class before turning it in).

“Afraid?” I asked incredulously.

“You’re trembling.” He said slowly leaning closer and closer towards me.

“I’m not trembling.” Eddie gave his infamous grin as his forehead pressed against mine, and I could feel his curls gently brush and tickle across my face.

“You like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.” He teased as his nose brushed against mine.

“I happen to like nice men.” I teased.

“I’m a nice man.” Inch by inch his lips brushed against mine until I leaned forward and kissed him right as the music reached it’s brief crescendo before decrescendo-ing to the part where 3PO basically cockblocks their moment.

Eddie reached over for my Walkman and stopped the tape but never once separated our lips until the need for air took over us both.  Our foreheads pressed together and I couldn’t help but say.

“That just made it ten times better.”

“And what song were you playing this time?”

“Our song.”

“Ahh. Han Solo and the Princess.”

“Yep. Although today was mostly Raiders but I figured I’d test this moment out with our song. See if we could make the kiss feel even more—thrilling.”

“And did it?” he said pulling me into his lap.

“Along with quoting the scene in perfect timing with the music, kissing you already feels like I’m on an all-time high. But with our song—Eddie I saw the entire galaxy.” I said wrapping my arms around his neck so that I could brush my fingers through those soft curly locks.

“God you are such a cheesy poet.” He chuckled.

“Look who’s talking Mr. ‘My heart beats faster than Gareth’s suckish drumming everytime I look at you’.” He covered my mouth with his hand.

“You know I have a reputation. If anyone hears you say that, I’ll…..”

“Be labeled as the school’s softie? You know that’s what you’ll always be to me Eddie-bear.” He lowered his head bashfully as he groaned in embarrassment.

“That nickname again.”

“Yes that nickname. Now c’mon let’s go. I’m making mac and cheese tonight.”

“With those homemade biscuits of yours?”

“Don’t I always make them with mac and cheese?” I stood up and Eddie followed right behind me like a puppy as the two of us headed for his van and he drove us to my house.

Since my parents were away on a business trip all the way in Dublin, Ireland, that left me to handle the house (which also meant free sleepovers between Eddie and I).  He always preferred coming here, even though I don’t mind going over to his uncle’s trailer.

“But in all seriousness, you have got to admit that you at least liked Metallica. If not Shout at the Devil.” He said as he stuffed the last bit of my homemade biscuit into his mouth.

“Eddie, I’m not denying anything it’s just that—there’s more to music than just heavy head bangers and lyrics being screamed so loud and rasply that you can’t understand what they’re saying.” I said going through my records of all my favorite movie soundtracks.

“Alright, alright I’ll admit doing the covers of some of those screaming metal songs is hard on my voice. But you can’t deny a good head-banger.”

“The last time I head-banged to Bohemian Rhapsody, I hit my head on the counter in Robin’s living room and ended up with 6 stitches in my head.” I said rubbing my right temple where the scar was hidden underneath my wildly, untamed hair.  

“Aww my poor baby.” He cooed as he brought me in a one arm hugged, removed my hand and replaced it with his lips.  “Guess that means no more Queen music for you.”

“Oh I still listen to them. Can’t deny they’ve basically changed the way music is. Plus the first ever band to do a music video that basically sparked MTV, fuck yeah. But in all honesty, there’s something about the pure beauty and raw emotion that program music has.”

“Program music?” he asked confused.

“That’s what my uncle calls it. You know the one who plays for the London Symphony.”

“Is that the same uncle who you say actually got to record for films like Star Wars, Superman and ET?”

“Don’t forget JAWS and Raiders.”

“Right how can I forget that? And what instrument did you say he played again?”

“The French Horn. Remember I told you he’s the one who actually plays that solo for the Binary sunset in A New Hope.”

“Oh yeah that’s right. Damn you’ve got such a metal uncle.”

“Hey Wayne’s a pretty cool dude. At least he’s kept you on the straight and narrow.”

“True. Been more of a dad to me than my old man ever was. Though I wish he would’ve been those uncles you’d allow me to have my first beer at 16. Still did it anyways but you know.”

“Edward Munson you are the devil incarnate.”

“Oh yeah?” he hummed as he smirked at me mischievously. Suddenly I felt him come up behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist and I heard him growl in my ear, “Well if I’m the Devil, you are my Lilith.” He let out a playful roar as he suddenly threw us backwards on my bed, the weight of the two of us making us slightly bounce as he kept a firmer grip around my waist.

He then buried his face into my neck and altered between gently nipping the skin, or just being straight up mean as he blew raspberries into the sensitive parts of my neck making it tickle.

“No tickling. No tickling!” I said trying to scrunch my neck to protect myself.

“Oh if it’s tickling you want,” I soon felt his fingers dig into my sides as I let out a shriek of laughter.

“Eddie plhehehease!” I screamed in laughter before he finally stopped and rolled me over till I was on my side and the two of us were facing each other.

“Never change, my beautiful, beautiful (Y/n).” he said stroking the hair out of my face.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He softly grinned before bopping my nose which made me softly giggle before he leaned in and kissed the tip of it.

“So, care to give me a…whatcha call it uhh—Program music? Yeah program music education?”

“Are you for real?”

“Well figured I’ve stuffed you with pretty much every one of my favorite metal bands, think it’s about time I learn a little about your music taste. So long as you don’t give me any of those old dudes from like the dinosaur age.”

“Eddie, Bach and Beethoven didn’t exist in the dinosaur age.”

“Well you know what I mean.”

“Darn there goes my first lesson then.” We both chuckled as he playfully ruffled my head but I got out of his grip before returning to my vinyl records and started to search for the first album I could introduce him to.

I pulled it out of the case and went over to my record player and set the record up before turning it on.

“So what’s first on the music appreciation list Ms. (L/n)?” Eddie said as he sat up on my bed.

“The first ever summer blockbuster.” The record started to spin and all was silent before the haunting two notes came up.

DUN-DUN…….DUN-DUN.

“JAWS?” he guessed.

“I’ll tell yah, first time I saw this movie, couldn’t sleep for a month and literally threw a temper tantrum begging my parents not to take me to the beach. Not to mention that besides television, this would be the spark that would launch John William’s career as a composer. And that it only took two notes to instill true terror, the like of which Freddy Krueger nor Michael Myers could never pull.” I said the last part in a haunting tone as I came up to him and sat on his lap.

As the music got faster as I spoke, I could already see the terror in Eddie’s eyes.

“Jesus……you’re already starting to scare me.”

“Good. That’s the power of music like this. Now close your eyes.” He looked at me skeptically but with a raised brow from me, he did as he was told.  “Imagine: you’re out in the middle of a large body of water. But you’re not on any boat, nor canoe, not even a wooden plank to float on. Blissfully unaware of what lurks just beneath you. But it slowly, silently gets closer….and closer….and closer until…..” when the tightening of the strings pierced my empty room I saw Eddie give a flinch.

He was seeing it!

“It has you by the leg. You feel yourself being pulled across the water. Pain and fear succumbs your very being as your screaming, begging for your life to be spared. The water around you erupting into frantic splashing as your body is being thrashed around like a ragdoll. Your screams piercing the air but there’s no one in sight to save you. Then all is still.” As the music went still I paused for dramatic effect.  “You think it’s heard your pleas and let you go. But then you feel it’s grip on you again, pulling your body once more. Your screaming resumes but you know it will only fall on deaf ears. Then with a final cry, you’re finally pulled under the water. The water now starts to still, and all is quiet.”

As the gently yet frantic sounds of the xylophone plays in the background signaling that the horrific scene had ended and all was back to normal.  Like nothing had happened.

“Jesus H Christ. Can I open my eyes now?”

“Yes you can open them.” He opened his eyes and looked straight at me.  “I should have you sub for me as DM with the way you just described that horrifying scene. And I know you haven’t seen that movie in a while to remember exactly what happened.”

“Told you. That’s the power of program music. It don’t have to match the scene word by word that it’s shown in the films. Or like with normal music how a lyric distracts the listener from the actual rhythm and melody being played. It can be erratic, moving, heartbreaking, and it’ll fit the scene of life itself.”

“Damn. You are a music philosopher.”

“Well I wouldn’t say that. My uncle just knows how to read music’s emotions and he taught me what he knows.”

“You got anything else?”

“Tons. Care to see why I think the Superman theme song is like the greatest opening to ever exist?”

“Compared to Star Wars?! Oh babe we’re gonna have another fight if you say that again.”

“You wanna debate, let’s debate. Star Wars opening theme is great, no denying that. But Superman’s theme song actually says its name.”

“When does it say that? I’ve seen that film enough times and I don’t hear anybody singing ‘Superman!’” he argued.  I stood up and turned my record player off and took the JAWS record out and began to search for my Superman tape.  I walked over to my stereo and turned it on and opened the slot and put the tape in before closing it and pressed play.

“Prepare to eat your words Munson.” I challenged as the opening started off soft.

“Not until you eat your own (L/n).” the suspense of the tuba soon began as I turned my stereo up as loud as I could and tapped along to the steady beats of the horns and strings as it began to build the suspense of Superman’s arrival.

“Okay, here it comes…..it’s coming…..is it a bird? Is it a plane? No it’s……SUPERMAN!!” right on cue the high suspense the whole orchestra went into full forte as the theme song actually said SUPERMAN

“HA! See I told you it didn’t say it!” Eddie exclaimed.

“It so did listen to it again!” I exclaimed as the orchestra repeated the superman part once again.

“You’re in denial sweetheart. I still don’t hear it.”

“God all that heavy metal has made you go deaf.”

“What was that missy!?!? I couldn’t hear yah!!” he shouted in my ear as he rubbed his own with his finger, trying to rub away the ‘deafness’. I shoved him away but he soon caught my hand then lifted me as high as he could as he spun me around.

“Eddie put me down yah big oaf!” I laughed as I exclaimed. He laughed as he continued to spin me around my entire room before falling down to my bed once again with me hovering over him.  Our laughter mixed together as the song continued to play in the background. “You are such a dork.”

“Your dork. But hey wouldn’t that count Superman a dork? He does work for the Daily Planet and wears those ugly glasses.”

“True but Christopher Reeves made them work.”

“Do I sense competition in the midst of my lady’s affections?”

“Only in a dream. But never fear good sir knight, you are the only man who has my heart.” I said as I rubbed over his heart.

“Good. Cause I don’t think I would last in a fight with Superman.” We both laughed and I said.

“I don’t think any of us could. Besides his heart belongs to Lois Lane. I could never compete with her.”

“In my opinion, you’re prettier than Lois Lane.”

“Aww Eddie you sweet-talker.” I leaned forward and captured his lips with mine right as the song came to an end.

We continued on with the Superman tape until the flying sequence came about I had to speak my mind.

“Now I both love and hate this song from the track.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?” Eddie asked as he wrapped his arm around me pulling me closer.

“Well not only because of how they shot it after he takes her into the air with the whole physics about how he holds her hand and they’re both flying together normally. But the stupid monologue Lois says during the music. It just—doesn’t fit well. In my mind, I imagined Superman holding her fairly close.”

“You mean like this?” Eddie said as he wrapped his other arm around me.

“Yes. Then we’d just—see them flying together. The music itself is beautiful on its own but her fucking monologue drones it out completely on film. For me personally, there are some scenes in film where we should just— let the music speak for itself. The fascination she already has for Superman, the closeness of their bodies pressed together. The lingering looks they share with one another as he takes her higher and higher into the sky. That’s why I’ll always pick the Binary Sunset over this song any day.”

“You’re not just saying that because your uncle has a solo in that song.”

“No. You know how we’re introduced to Luke right?” he nodded. “The Binary sunset, it—it allows us to also feel exactly what Luke feels. The longing, the desperation, the need, hope and the dream to have something far beyond our reach like the sun.”

“Damn you are really getting deep here babe. How did we ever work out?”

“We work out because you’re funny, you’re sweet, loyal to your friends, a good mentor to the present and future members of Hellfire. And you’ve got such an imagination that could only rival mine. Plus you’re the only guy whose accepted me for my own unique nerdiness. Not even the guys in band would touch me with a ten foot pole.”

“Well those band geeks are blind to see the true goddess that’s before them. All those guys they’re just doing band to get an elective credit. You—you have a truly, fiery passion for the music you play. Long to play, and may eventually play. Can you imagine if they ever did bring Lord of the rings to life? I’m sure the music is gonna need a player with as much passion as you. And I’m gonna be right there cheering you on and listening for yah.”

“Thank Eddie, it really means a lot to me.” He smiled then leaned in and kissed me softly.

“You think we can quote Star Wars all the way through just listening to the scores?” he asked me.

“You really gotta ask that?” I stood up from my bed and switched the Superman tape for A New Hope.  “One thing though, it doesn’t include the 20th Century Fox theme song.”

“Ahh the bastards!” he playfully groaned.

“So care to do the honors Ed?”

“Princess, it’d be my pleasure.” He then grabbed my own version of Brian May’s red special guitar, plugged it into my amp and turned it up as loud as he could.  I then grabbed two pencils and began the drum roll of the company’s theme song before Eddie played the horns section on the electric guitar.  Never before have I heard it be played on anything else but damn did he shred it and to use my guitar, it was pure poetry.

He unplugged my guitar and turned my amp off as we both said the title card introduction.

“A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….” I pressed play and right on cue the full forte of the Orchestra played throughout my room. “Care to do the honors Dungeon Master?”

“As you wish my fair Princess.” He said before reading out the actual credit roll all the way through in his DM style of how he narrates his campaigns for his club.  From there on, it was the two of us acting out the scenes based off the scores that played out.

We also couldn’t help ourselves with quoting the rest of the movie and right as we came up to my favorite part, I turned to my window balcony and saw that the sun was just about to set.

“Oh my god.”

“Uhh that’s not the quote that comes next babe.” Eddie said.

“No Eds look, the sun’s setting. Oh let’s pause this and you’ll see what I mean come on!” I turned to stereo towards the window and grabbed Eddie’s hand as we went out to my small little balcony and stared at the sunset together.

*Eddie’s POV*

As my girl dragged me to her makeshift balcony and the rays of the sunset landed upon her face, I could hear the sound of the flute starting off the most epic part of the song.  Then as her uncle’s solo came into play, I immediately felt this—fluttery feeling in my stomach.

This angel nay this—goddess of music that stood at my side. She—she was my everything. My wants, my hopes, my dreams. Everything I wish to do, want to do I—I want her to be there at my side.  As the orchestra rose in volume, there was this wave of—god I can’t even describe it.

All I did know was that I never once took my eyes off of (Y/n) for a second as my heart swelled and I could feel my chest constricting with whatever this emotion I was feeling.

 “….d? Ed? Eddie.” I snapped out of my trance and said.

“What? What was it?” (Y/n) only smiled and reached up to touch the corner of my eye.  It was then I felt that I actually had tears in my eyes.

“You felt it too, didn’t you.” She said it as more of a statement than a question.  I sniffled softly and nodded.

“That’s what you feel everytime?” she nodded. “God babe that…..that was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I felt—warm and…..god I can’t even describe it.”

“Music is the way of life. It’s all around us. Just like I’ve always said.” I cupped her face into my hands and asked her.

“I wanna feel it again. But this time with our song. Please sweetheart? I—I wanna feel it again, but this time as I kiss you.” God I’m sounding like such a sap right now but fuck it! This is a high I’ve never been on and I wanna feel what my girl feels every day she listens to these songs, especially how she described our kiss earlier today with our Star Wars love theme.

She placed her hands over mine and kissed my left palm before taking me back inside her room and switched out the tapes.

“Shall we quote the scene again?”

“I wanna try your theory of just letting the music speak for itself.” I answered.  She nodded and pressed rewind and waited for a couple of seconds before pressing play to see if it was our song.

“Okay let’s just let this last section of Boba Fett play out and then nothing but silence.” She said as she came up and wrapped her arms around my neck and I wrapped mine around her waist pulling her close.

Soon the gentle melody of our love theme started playing over the speakers.  As she gently brushed the hair out of my eyes I could already feel my heart racing faster than it’s ever gone before.  There was a lump in my throat but for some strange reason it felt like the good kind of lump.  Honestly I can’t explain it as beautifully as my musical goddess does, but all I can say was that I liked it.  A lot. It wasn’t a sexual pull, but a truly, deep, love connection (much like Aragorn and Arwen).

I lifted my hands to gently cup her face.  My thumbs gently stroking along where her cute dimples were hidden and I pressed my forehead against hers, our noses gently and affectionately nuzzling the other’s.  We both soon leaned in and as the music got louder our lips met and I swear to god—it was like a firework just exploded in my gut.

We separated and (Y/n) reached over and turned off the stereo as the two of us softly panted.

“Shit……” I gasped out.  

“What’s the verdict doc?” she asked.

“Best……high……ever.” I chuckled and she followed with soft laughter. “You were right. God that was—I know I always get butterflies in my stomach and my heart races every time I kiss you but with our song setting the mood…..holy shit.”

“Like I said. There’s more to music than just headbangers.”

“I’ll never question your wisdom again, my beautiful muse.” I said bringing her into yet another, more passionate kiss.  We walked right towards her bed and she collapsed once more onto it, and I immediately crawled on top of her.  “So what shall it be Princess? Want to make beautiful music of our own?”

“With most scoundrels I wouldn’t but for you, always.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” She said with a grin and a twinkle in her eye before wrapping her hand around the back of my neck and bringing me down to kiss her once more.

That’s a night I’ll never forget, I think out of all my shows I’ve performed, this one will always be my favorite.  Because it was just me, my best girl, and the two of us making music with our bodies all night long.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #netflix: stranger things 4 #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn imagines #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction

[leonardalphachurch]

@redvsbluesecretsanta present for @stickylizardcave! why is it so late? well you see. i am very bad at deadlines. i

you asked for poly blue team but I wasn’t sure who you wanted included in that so I just went with the classic bluet4 with a focus on epsilon/wash and church being over protective. hope you like it!

EDIT: now also available to read on ao3 if you prefer to read stuff there

---

Nothing Wrong

Post-15 Epsilon lives AU.

The boys go on a date to the beach, working through the new relationship dynamics recent events may have caused. Even though it may not be perfect at times, in the end, they know that there really is nothing wrong.

“HEY ASSHOLE, YOU EVER HEARD OF WATCHING WHERE YOU’RE FUCKING GOING?”

“Church.”

“YOU’RE JUST GONNA KEEP WALKING, HUH? I KNOW YOU HEAR ME MOTHERFUCKER!”

“Church.”

“OH, TOO MUCH OF A COWARD TO EVEN TURN AROUND! YOU EVER HEARD OF FUCKING APOLOGIZING?”

“Epsilon!”

“WHAT!?”

Wash stared at him, completely unamused.

“Wh- don’t get mad at me! That guy’s big ass bag smashed right the fuck into you! He could’ve hurt you!”

“The only thing hurting me is your screechy voice giving me a headache. Sit down.” Wash pulled him down and Church begrudgingly followed, grumbling about how he did not have a screechy voice, you have a screechy voice. The unamused stare turned ever so slightly more amused.

“Who are we yelling at?” Tucker approached the table, tray filled with their food. Wash reached out to grab his share before hesitating. Tucker handed him his fries and milkshake.

“I was not yelling.” They both stared at him, unconvinced. “That loud.”

Tucker laughed, “You were so loud the whole boardwalk could hear you.”

Church looked around. Sure enough, there will still a few people looking their way. He felt a twinge of embarrassment but, whatever, at least people knew not to fucking bother them.

“Some asshole smashed his giant fucking bag directly into Wash’s head.”

“No!” Tucker put his hand to his chest.

“Yes! He could’ve given him a concussion!”

Wash rolled his eyes. “A concussion? Really?”

“We don’t know what was in the bag! It could’ve been fucking, bowling balls!”

“He was carrying around bowling balls.”

“Maybe!”

“To the beach.”

“I don’t- I don’t know what fucking humans are doing these days!”

“No, no,” Tucker interjected, “he’s right, Wash, this is serious.”

“Thank you!”

“Hitting people with bags? This guy sounds like a serious threat.” In one swift motion Tucker removed his sword from his hip and turned it on. “You want me to go take him out?”

Wash laughed. Church glared.

“I don’t know, Tucker,” Wash said, expression now squarely in amused, “guy seems pretty dangerous. Heard he might have bowling balls.”

“Baby, you know I’d face the danger for you.”

“Oh, shove it up your asses.” They both laughed. Whatever.

Tucker turned off his sword and clipped it back into the holder on his hip.

“Where’s Caboose?” Church said, definitely not trying to change the subject.

“Still getting food.” Tucker started unwrapping his burger. “You know he orders like 50 meals. I’m not helping him carry all that shit back.”

“Wow, a real Prince Charming.” Church snarked.

Wash poked at his fries. “Should we wait for him to start?”

“Mmph?” Tucker replied, mouth already full of burger.

“Right.” Wash took a sip of his milkshake.

Church looked around for Caboose. The boardwalk wasn’t too crowded; most people weren’t having beach dates at noon on a Thursday. Even if it was, Caboose wouldn’t have been too hard to find, with his tendency to tower over the crowds. Sure enough, Church was easily able to spot by the food stands, chatting up a confused but amiable looking employee. His tray was already filled with snacks from one stand, eagerly waiting for more. About half of that food would probably end up on the ground during the walk over. Church wondered if that was why he always got so much.

“This is really good.” Wash eagerly sucked up his milkshake.

Tucker looked contemplative as he stared at the straw in Wash’s mouth, but seemed to decide against whatever he was thinking about, instead saying, “Yeah, it’s you’re favorite.”

“Oh.”

“Passionfruit and chocolate. You get it all the time.”

“Right.” Wash took his notepad out of his pocket and started reading through it. “Right,” he nodded slowly. “I guess I have pretty good taste.”

Church frowned.

“Yeah, it's Church’s favorite, too.”

“What? No!” Church recoiled. “That shit’s nasty. I hate chocolate mixed with fruit.”

Tucker laughed.

Wash scoffed. “Well, you don’t have to drink it.”

“Good! I fucking won’t!”

They continued to eat in quiet, for a moment.

Wash read through his notepad again, flipping through a few pages, brow furrowed. “We… come to the beach a lot?” Wash asked.

“Huh? Uh, no?” Tucker replied.

“You said I get this all the time.”

“Oh. No, the burger place, it’s a franchise, there’s one by your house-”

“Right. Right.” Wash flipped through his pages again. “I remember that, that makes a lot more sense.” He jotted something down.

“I wish we went to beach all the time.”

Church’s frown deepened. He looked over to Caboose, hoping to find him finally ready. The employee was helping him carefully balance his tray.

“Hey, Church, you wanna bite?”

“Huh?”

Tucker waved his nearly finished burger in Church’s face.

“Shake’s vanilla, too. Nothin’ fancy.”

“Uh, no.”

“You sure? It’s a good fucking burger.”

Church rolled his eyes. “It’s a burger from a fucking beach food stand, how good can it be.”

“It’s local.”

“It’s fast food. Besides, I’ve had it before.”

Tucker shrugged. “Your loss.”

Wash jotted something down.

“Ummmm.”

The trio looked up to see Caboose walking up to them, tray precariously stacked high. The cheerful looking employee from before was looking slightly less cheerful now, as she walked with Caboose to the table, trying to keep him balanced.

“I think it is actually called ‘fast casual.’ Right Junie?”

“Uhh, sure, please just, oh god.” A burger rolled off the tray and down the boardwalk. Junie watched it go with an expression that screamed ‘I am not being paid enough to do this.’ Church decided he liked her.

“Tucker, for gods sake, help them.”

“Wh- I’m eating!”

“It’s okay!” Caboose made the last few long strides to quickly drop the tray down on the table. To absolutely no one’s surprise, a large soda immediately tipped over. “Oops.”

“CABOOSE!”

“FUCK!”

“Nooooooooo...”

Church’s reflexes immediately grabbed for Wash’s notepad, keeping it dry and out of harm’s way. Tucker wasn’t nearly so lucky, cola coating the remainder of his fries and all over his shirt. Church started cracking up.

Junie looked absolutely crestfallen. “We were. So close.”

“Hey,” Church laughed, “you did better than he usually does.”

“I’ll go… get some napkins.”

Wash started to say she didn’t have to but she was already gone.

“That’s my new friend Junie!” Caboose already stopped caring about the carnage that laid before him, instead starting to shove a burger into his mouth. “She has a cat!”

“Yeah, great, you got soda all over my fucking shirt.” Tucker was wringing his shirt out over the side of the table.

“It’s the beach.” Caboose said simply.

Tucker considered that for a moment before shrugging and taking off his shirt.

Church looked away, flustered at his boyfriend suddenly being shirtless next to him.

Wash had no such shame, staring openly at Tucker’s chest as he sipped his shake.

“Here’s your book.” Church shoved it back at Wash’s face.

“Oh,” Wash took and put it back in his pocket. “Thanks for being quick about it.”

“Well, I’d be the one to restore it if it got messed up anyway. My actions are purely selfish.”

Wash rolled his eyes. “Sure, you don’t care about anyone or anything.”

“Exactly.”

“NAPKINS.” A pile of cotton was dropped onto the table. Junie started to mop up the still uncleaned soda.

“Oh, you really don’t have to—” Wash started.

“THANK YOU!!” Caboose interrupted, punctuating his words with wide hand movements. “Uh oh.”

Another cup of soda took the brunt of Caboose’s backhand. Its precarious lid was no match for the strength at which it was struck to the table. Soda exploded outwards from it, drenching the mountain of once dry napkins into a flattened, sticky mound. Tucker’s bare chest, on proud display, was blasted yet again by the syrupy liquid, with nothing to protect its second barrage of nectar of the day.

“CABOOSE!”

“Oops!”

“Oooooaaaggghhh.” Junie collapsed in despair at witnessing the carnage.

“You really don’t have to clean this.”

Church just put his head in his hands. Sometimes he really didn’t know how he was in love with these idiots.

---

Church stabbed angrily at the sand.

Wash watched him with a judgmental eye. “You need some help with that?”

“I got it.”

“You gotta spin it.” Tucker supplied unhelpfully.

“I got it.”

“I think you should dig the hole deeper.” Caboose chimed in. Tucker muttered something about deep holes under his breath.

“I! Am an advanced military AI! I know how to stick a fucking umbrella in the sand!” To prove his point, Chirch quickly calculated and, in one swift, smooth motion, stabilized the umbrella. “See!”

Tucker laughed and continued undressing.

Wash smirked at him, “Tell Delta I said thanks for the help.”

“Wh- hey!”

“Hi Delta!” Caboose cheerfully waved.

“Delta’s not here! Because I am on a date.” He said, half to Caboose, half to himself.

You’re welcome, Delta logged off. Church mentally flipped him off.

“Bye, Delta!”

“Go, put on your sunscreen, Caboose.”

“Okay!” Caboose started digging in his bag.

A bottle of sunscreen smacked Church in face.

“You wanna use those advanced military AI skills to slather me up?” Tucker said, attempting to be seductive.

“Oh my god.” Church looked over at Tucker and rolled his eyes. The man was wearing what Church had to assume was the tiniest swimsuit he could buy. “Can’t you wear something normal?”

“This is a totally normal swimsuit, you’re just a prude.”

“I am not a prude.”

“Oh yeah? Then come rub me up,” Tucker winked.

Church beaned him with the sunscreen. “Do it yourself. My skin doesn’t absorb that shit, it’d just stick to my hands.”

“Aw, come on, you won’t get your hands all creamy for me?” To punctuate his point, Tucker started to pose in what Church assumed Tucker assumed was a seductive way.

"You sound like Donut." Church was definitely not seduced, he assured himself as he blushed and looked away.

“Give me the sunscreen, I’ll do it.” Dammit, Church hadn’t considered that Wash would be seduced instead.

Tucker shrugged, “As long as I’m getting sunscreened by a beautiful man, I’ll take it.”

Wash scoffed, pulling him down, “Glad to know I’m your second choice.”

Church rolled his eyes and looked away from his partners. Because he was annoyed by Tucker’s shenanigans and definitely not because he would be way too embarrassed to watch his boyfriends rub each other up in public, of course.

“Done!”

Caboose shoved his sunscreen into Church’s hands.

“Why are you giving it to me?”

Caboose just smiled and shrugged, and Church started to suspect that the man was not, in fact, done.

Sure enough, Church adjusted his eyesight to focus on UV and large splotches of Caboose’s body were completely uncovered.

“Caboose! You didn’t get most of you!”

“Oh no,” Caboose replied, with not even a hint of distress, “Guess you will have to do it for me.”

Church glared. “You do this on purpose, you little shit.”

Caboose simply grinned and spread his arms.

Well, whatever. Caboose preferred the spray sunscreen, claiming it made him less oily, so at least Church could put this on.

Church started spraying an even, uniform coating, making sure to cover every inch of Caboose’s skin. Which necessitated a great deal of attention paid to every inch of Caboose’s skin. Caboose wore board shorts, which left more to the imagination that Tucker’s glorified thong, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still a lot of skin. From his legs, his back, his chest. Church had long since committed it all to memory, but, well, nothing wrong with a refresher.

As Church finished, he gave Caboose a once over to make sure everything was covered. And maybe his gaze lingered a little too long in his partner’s body. And maybe Church was struck by wondering how on Earth he got here, to be dating someone like Caboose, like Tucker and Wash. To be a beach applying sunscreen to his boyfriend as if there was nothing wrong. And, maybe, just maybe, there was nothing wrong.

His gaze moved upwards and caught Caboose’s, who was staring at him expectantly.

Church jumped backwards.

“Uh, there. Now you’re done.”

Caboose took a step forward, reclosing the gap between them.

“Thank you!”

Before Church could realize what was happening, Caboose was pulling him in for a kiss. He tensed at the unexpected contact but quickly relaxed, letting himself fall into Caboose’s soft lips. It was nice. Church forgot sometimes how nice it was when something was nice.

A click of camera shutter went off. Church pulled away to see Tucker aiming his camera at him and Caboose.

Church sputtered. “You can’t just— I didn’t say you could— how dare you— delete that picture.”

“No way man, that was cute as hell.”

Church tried to grab the camera from him but Tucker easily maneuvered it out of his reach. Their struggle quickly turned into a grapple, which quickly turned into full on wrestling in the sand.

Caboose picked up the camera, swiftly abandoned as their fight changed into one of dominance, and sat down next to Wash.

“Do you need to be sunscreened?” Caboose asked, taking pictures of the fight before him.

“Ah, no, I’m all right, I’ve been reapplying every couple of hours.”

“Ohh, that’s smart.”

“Yeah, my skin’s not used to the sun.”

Caboose and Wash watched their two boyfriends wrestle in the sand. It was not a sophisticated fight, nothing like what you’d expect from who are supposed to Chorus’ top operatives. Just two men, desperately trying to get on top of the other.

“It’s impressive that something can be so homoerotic and yet so unsexy,” Wash commented.

“Mm,” Caboose agreed, putting the camera down. “I’m bored.”

Caboose stood up and walked over to the fight. He easily lifted Tucker off of the other man.

“Hey!”

“I want to go in the water now.”

Saying that, Caboose, still holding Tucker, made his way towards the ocean. Tucker protested and struggled but was no match for a Caboose on a mission.

Church wiped himself off. Oh god, he was fucking covered in sand. It was down his pants, up his shirt, caked in his hair. He was pretty sure it was- oh, fucking hell.

“FUCK SAND.” Church yelled in protest as he angrily stomped his way back onto the blanket.

“We’re at the beach. What were you expecting?”

“Fuck you!” Church flipped him off. “It got fucking, inside me.”

“Inside you?”

“In my fucking… mechanisms!” Church gestured towards his torso. “In my wires! Do you know what it’s like to have tiny grain of sands in your fucking bits?”

Wash frowned. “That sounds… awful”

“It is! My life in an unceasing hell of my own fucking creation.”

“Is it dangerous?” Wash looked more concerned than Church had meant to engender.

“Uh,” Church felt a little sheepish. “No, probably not. Just… really uncomfortable.”

“That’s good.”

“Wow. glad you’re happy at my discomfort.”

Wash rolled his eyes. “Epsilon.”

Church huffed. He was allowed to be overdramatic about this. There was sand in his bits.

“Can I help clean in some way?”

Church felt his brain short circuit. The idea of Wash’s hands inside him. Church completely opened up as Wash’s hands delicately cleaned his internals. Brushing against wires and servos. Church’s most vital parts exposed to him. Incredibly vulnerable. Incredibly intimate.

Church felt dirty for even thinking of it in public.

“Um, n-no, I’d go to a, I’d have to get my body professionally cleaned. Not by you. When I’m not in it.”

Wash nodded. “Well, as long as it can get cleaned.”

Church needed to look anywhere but Wash right now. He opted to watch Tucker and Caboose instead.

They’d made it in only a little, water seemingly to cold for them to want go further. Tucker kicked some water up at Caboose, who in turn picked him up and chucked him into the deeper water. Church could hear the yelp from here. Tucker immediately started trying to pull Caboose down with him.

Wash chuckled, and Church turned to see him watching them too.

Wash turned to meet his gaze. “Are you not going in?” He asked.

“I’m a robot, Wash. Me and water don’t exactly agree.”

“Right, right.”

“You?” Church asked, though he already knew the answer.

Wash shook his head. “Not a big fan of the ocean.”

“Yeah.” Church said. “Honestly, kinda surprised you even agreed to a beach date.”

Wash laughed, “Hey, me too. Would love to remember what I was thinking when I did.”

Church looked away. He stared at Tucker and Caboose, not really registering their actions. He felt— no, he didn’t feel anything. Nothing was wrong. He was on a beach date with his boyfriends and there was nothing wrong.

It was silent, between them, for a moment. Then two. Then too long, for the silence to be comfortable, but Church didn’t have anything to say.

Wash was the one to break it. “Is it okay for you to be in the sun like that?”

“What? Yes? I don’t have skin like you do, I don’t burn.”

“I know you don’t burn.”

“The why are you asking—”

“Because you do overheat.”

Church scoffed. He was not overheating… yet. “I am fine. I have a state of the art cooling system”

“Your ‘state of the art cooling system’ overheats when you’re cuddling with Caboose.”

“Caboose runs abnormally hot!”

“Just,” Wash sighed and scooted over, “come under the umbrella.

Church frowned. “I had that perfectly angled to keep you out of the sun for as long as possible.”

“Well, tell Delta thanks for effort, but I’m moving so my boyfriend can sit with me.”

Church huffed, but relented, angrily sitting next to him. “I am perfectly capable of calculating the angle of the sun by myself.” He informed Wash.

Wash put his arm around Church’s waist. “I’m sure you are.”

They sat like that for a moment, looking out at their boys in the water. They were comfortably further out now, and seemed to have turned throwing Tucker into a game. Church didn’t know how they weren’t getting yelled at by some lifeguard yet, but figured that being the saviors of the planet might have some perks.

Wash pulled Church tighter. Church looked over at the other man, and their lips locked. And if Church had to wonder how he got here with Caboose he couldn’t even begin to marvel at how he ended up like this. Like this, with Wash.

With Wash.

Wash pulled away slightly, their faces still so, so close. They stared each other in the eyes and Church never wanted to leave this moment.

“Are you… all right?”

“Me?” and just like that, they had left the moment. “I’m- I’m fine. Why are you asking that?”

Wash hesitated, seeming to considering his words carefully. “You… didn’t eat Tucker’s burger earlier.”

“What? Why the hell do you remember that?”

“I… wrote it down.”

“Why would you write that down?”

Wash considered his words again, and it bothered Church in a way he couldn’t define. Just say it, he wanted to say. Just talk. But he kept quiet, allowing Wash the space to consider.

“Carolina says you haven’t wanted to join her for missions lately.”

“What? I join her all the time.”

“Not in her armor. And you used to piggyback of Tucker and Caboose more, too. You haven’t been wanting to leave your body. Not even for a milkshake.”

Church ignored the accusations and avoided the question, focusing instead on, “You talk about me with Carolina?”

“Of course.” Wash said, staring at Church like it was a stupid question. “She’s worried about you.”

Church winced, the sentence hitting him with guilt like he was being struck by the butt of a gun. “Well, she shouldn’t be, okay? It’s not a big deal. I just, I like independence.”

“You also like milkshakes.”

“Yeah, well, I’m… watching my figure.”

Wash laughed, and Church laughed with him. It was nice, to make Wash laugh. It wasn’t something Church would eve have imagined he was capable of.

“I promise I’m fine, okay? Stop worrying about me.”

Wash looked at him for a moment, expression unreadable to Church. Finally, he shook his head, saying, “You’re lucky that I know you’re not.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you have been incredibly over protective and annoying lately and if I didn’t know you weren’t okay I wouldn’t be putting up with it.”

Church rolled his eyes. “I am not overprotective and annoying”

“Oh yeah?” Wash flipped through some pages of his notepad and held it out to Church. “Then explain this.”

Epsilon has been incredibly overprotective and annoying lately. He’s lucky I know he’s not okay or I wouldn’t be putting up with it.

Church glared at the notebook. “I’m gonna rip that page out.”

“That’s fine. I would never forget how annoying you are.”

“All right.” Church moved to get up in a huff before Wash pulled him back down.

“Come on, don’t go, I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Church folded his arms and grumbled angrily as he settled back into Wash. “Aren’t we on a date? Why the hell are we trying to talk about my problems? Can’t we just relax?”

Wash sighed, but gave Church a soft smile. “Fair enough.” He pulled away from Church, lying down.

“Come relax?” He pat his chest, gesturing for Church to lie with him.

Church blushed, flustered by Wash’s bare chest, but— oh, whatever. They were on a beach date. A little skin on skin never hurt anyone.

Church laid his head on Wash’s chest, almost instantly soothed by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He was always tracking it, of course, always making sure that all his loved ones vital signs were in an acceptable range. But it was different to be pressed against him, to feel the vibrations against his own skin. To have Wash’s hand carding through his hair. To have his own gently stroking Wash’s waist.

Maybe the question of how he managed to get here was impossible for him to answer. But maybe, in just this moment, the question didn’t matter as much as the fact. The fact that he was here.

They were here.

And they stayed there, so comfortable in the shade of the perfectly angled umbrella, until…

A click of a camera shutter went off.

“Cute as hell.”

Church looked up to see Tucker standing above them, camera in hand, still soaking wet.

“You motherfucker.”

Church started to get up to beat the shit out of Tucker, but the hand in his hair tightened around him, holding him in place.

“Hey!”

“I thought you wanted to relax?” Wash teased, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at him.

As Church wrestled against Wash’s grip and his two other boyfriends cheered them on. Church was struck by how much he hated these people. And by how much he loved these people.

And maybe, right now, things weren’t all right. But maybe, eventually, hopefully, in the end, there really will be nothing wrong.

#epsilon church #agent washington #lavernius tucker #michael caboose #churchington #chuckingboose #fanfic #fic #latest man in the WORLD #sorry ;-; hope it is good enough to make up for it #red vs blue secret santa 2022 #rvb secret santa 2022 #listen if you believe and dream with all your heart it can still be 2022 okay #chromatic writing