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lovifie · 3 months

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Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 4: Midnight Snack

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.5K words

Warning/Notes: Soap x Reader, oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, messy make out

This is the video from where the photo is, if you haven't seen it, You have to and if you have already, you are welcome.

The drive back to base seems neverending.��

Once Price and Ghost managed to get you to stop crying and to breathe normally. The three of you pack the essentials, and by that, I mean you were hugged to Ghost like a koala while Price got what he could save from your house into a bag pack.

Most of your clothes were ripped or cut, so in the end, only some pieces of underwear, a couple of shirts, some pants and the pyjamas you were wearing were safe. Plus your jacket and shoes that were behind the door.

And that is how you found yourself now. Sobbing, sitting in the middle of the back seat, bag pack on your lap, Simon’s hand on your knee from the passenger seat as Price drives.

“Tomorrow morning, you are going to call your job, and tell them that you are going to take a couple of days off, okay?” Price asks looking at you through the rearview mirror. “And we will take everything you need, we will buy clothes, find you a better place to stay, anything you need.”

You shake your head feeling the tears come back and you hide your face behind your hands as you start to cry again. “I can't.” You cry. “What can't you do?” Simon asks turning his head to look at you.

“Miss more work days, I have already taken too many. I can't afford to lose more.” You mumble whining out of mental exhaustion.

“Hey, stop. Don't get carried away, alright?” Simon says rubbing your thigh. “Let's not think about that right now, tomorrow tell your boss the situation. Tell them that your house was broken into, that you need a couple of days to get everything in order. Depending on what your boss says, we'll work from there. Alright, birdie?”

You nod weakly as you focus on taking deep breaths. When you finally arrive, both men get out of the car and Price opens the door for you. You step out still holding your bag tight, either men try to take it from your hands and walk along between both men.

Their hands find their way to your back, Price to the bottom and Simon to the top, reassuring shielding you from the chilly breeze of the night.

“How about a cuppa?” Simon asks looking at you, a smile visible in his eyes, and you can't help it but to give him a weak smile back nodding. “Then, we will find you a room so you can sleep as much as you want.”

Sleep does sound amazing, taking into consideration that last night you had little sleep and you have been on the move ever since.

Price and Simon walk you to a lousy room, many recruits sitting together. The mess hall, you figure. In the middle of the room, there are a couple of sofas, and you quickly recognise Soap and Gaz, sprawled together in one of them looking at Gaz's phone.

Most of the soldiers that are finishing their dinner, or just enjoying each other company before going to bed look up when they hear the door opening. Their gazes linger for a second too long on you until you can feel Ghost throwing them a warning sign in the form of a look and they peel their eyes away.

Gaz and Soap look up when they hear the door open, and just for a second, they smile at you before they furrow their browns when they see everyone's expression.

“What happened? How come the wee lass so spooked?” Soap asks sitting straight and patting the seat between him and Kyle.

Price’s hand on your lower back softly pushes you forward to sit down before he answers: “She’s still a bit in shock, Soap. We’ll talk about it later.”

You sit down between Soap and Gaz, backpack still in your hands, and pull your knees up hugging your legs. Gaz points to your backpack and asks: “You sleeping over tonight? You should definitely sleep in Soap’s and my room. Ghost and Price have their own individual ones, but they snore.” He whispers the last part pulling a little smile from you.

You lean your head on Soap's shoulder when he lays his arm on the couch behind your back. The man is a living furnace and shortly after you find yourself seeking more contact.

Price sits on the second sofa in front of you and just a second later Ghost appears back, cup of tea on hand, as he gives it to you. You take it from his hands, yours still shaking just a little bit as you do, and you rest it on top of your knee for support.

Kyle's hand find its way to your other knee giving it a light squeeze. “How's your arm, luv?” You look at your elbow and shrug your shoulder. “I haven't even had time to check it, good I think, it hasn't bothered me.”

“You didn't get hurt today, did you?” Price asks focusing on your face after doing a quick check-up of you. You shake your head: “No, a headbutt on the ceiling if anything.”

Price nods, satisfied with your answer and shakes his head at the sergeant's questioning look. You look down to the tea, thoughts getting to you. You saw your neighbour get arrested, and if he had gotten free they would have told you. So it must have been someone who works for them, and if he wasn't arrested already is because they didn't really know who works for them.

“What are you thinking about, birdie?” Ghost brings you back to reality with just a question. “Am I safe here?” You ask, with a shake in your voice.

“Yes.” Price's answer is concise, full of trust in his own word, leaving no room for doubt. “As long as you are with us, nothing and nobody is getting to you.”

You look at his face, almost as if expecting him to burst laughing at you for trusting them. A voice in your head screams at you not to do it, you barely know them. But you thought you knew your neighbour and now he's trying to kill you, so.

You nod and take a sip of the tea. Warming you inside and letting you relax just a bit.

“How about a distraction?” Soap asks smiling at you. “Have we told ye aboot the time Gaz fell from a helo and was hangin’ from a rope like a yo-yo?”

“Fucking hell, Johnny. Shut up!” Gaz complains laughing next to you.

The time went a bit more smoothly when Soap decided to talk about everyone's embarrassing stories, you could still tell he wasn't telling everything, keeping the classified information for himself, but still telling enough to have you laughing, gasping and asking with interest as he told.

By the time you finished your tea, you were already in a greater mood, the attack from today moved to the back of your head. Price lends you a hand to help you stand up while Ghost takes the empty cup from you. Gaz and Soap keep their word to share the room for the night against Price and Ghost's complaint that they should let you rest alone. Until the words “I don't really want to be alone.” leave your mouth and that's the end of the bickering.

Soap and Gaz barracks are quite simple, two single beds against opposite walls, two desks, two little bookshelves and two closets. Almost as if there was a mirror in the middle of the room if it wasn't for the little trinkets and details on each side letting you know the right bed was Soap's and the one on the left was Gaz's.

After a quick rock, paper, scissor championship, it is decided you will be sharing Soap's bed. And since you are already in your pyjamas, you get inside the bed quickly, ready to be done with the day. Soap lays behind you, hugging your middle and dropping a kiss to your temple. “Sleep tight, bonnie.”

A ray of light erupts from the bathroom door that is practically closed, almost as if whoever closed was afraid the click of the door closing would wake you up. At first, you don't think most of it, Soap must have gotten up to pee. But then you listen, and it doesn't sound like that's what he is doing in the bathroom.

Little grunts can be heard as well as the sound of skin hitting skin. You stand up from the bed, curiosity taking control of your body and walking you to peak at the door. You shouldn't, you really shouldn't. But once you lay your eyes on him, you know you are fucked.

Soap is barechested, leaning against the sink with a hand supporting him while the other strokes his dick. He has his eyes closed, head low with his mouth open slightly, and small grunts and whines leave his lips.

The grey sweatpants slightly lowered, allowing you to see the curve of his lower back as well as what you trust is the girthiest dick you have ever laid your eyes onto. The tip looks red, hungry for release, pearls of precum dripping from it making your mouth water.

There is a turmoil of thoughts in your head, you keep repeating to yourself that you need to place some distance between yourself and these men. But the moment any of them show any skin or any emotion of want towards you, you throw yourself at them.

Three times have you gone through this, your mind telling you is a bad idea and your pussy pushing you at their arms. This time is not different, and before you know it, you are inside the bathroom locking the door making Soap jump.

“Steamin’ jesus, bonnie.” He says shoving his dick inside his pants and turning his back at you to hide his tent. “Knock before entering, lass.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, not feeling sorry and you slowly walk to him. “I just wanted to help…”

“What? What you me-” He gets cut mid-question when he feels your hand grazing his tip, pressing your chest to his back and surrounding his waist with your arm. You use a hand to feel his abdomen and the other to softly caress the length of his dick inside his pants.

“But I can go back to bed if you don't want…” You say looking at the back of his head. “Don't you dare.” He answers grabbing your wrist when you try to take it back and he looks at you over his shoulder.

“Ye dinnae have to do it if ye dinnae want… but if you want, I'll take anythin’ ye throw at me, bonnie.” He says turning around and cupping your face after lowering his pants again to free his erection. “I had to run to the bathroom cause ye were rubbing yer arse against me on yer sleep, I was about to explode.”

“Well then, I think it's only fair I fix it, right?” You ask looking at him cheekly. He leans down and kisses you smiling into the kiss. Little groans slide into your mouth as you stroke him and you can feel his hips thrust softly into your hand as well.

For the last two days these men have only but given to you, and as much as you have enjoyed every single second of it, it is about time you give back.

You pick Soap's hand from your cheek and push it up to your hair. “Make sure to keep my hair away from my face, all right?”

He looks at you confused but quickly gets the idea when you kneel before him. He quickly brushes your hair back with his finger, doing a ponytail at the back of your head and groans deeply when you give a kitty lick to his tip.

You pop his tip inside your mouth sucking softly as you circle it with your tongue. Stroke the rest with both your hands, unable to reach your thumb with your index because of the girth and slowly bobbing your head up and down.

Soap stays mumbling curse words under his breath, low enough to not be able to hear him and you wish you were not hiding in the bathroom and could hear him scream. You think back to when Price ate you out, did he get as turn-on satisfying you as you are getting doing it to Soap?

He opens his eyes to lock into yours and you look up to him through your lashes as you start to get more inside your mouth.

“Fokin’ hell, bonnie. Keep looking at me like that and I'm not gonna last a second.” He says struggling to keep his eyes open.

You chuckle inside your head, and keep getting closer and closer to his hipbone. You must praise Soap's self-commitment to not cum, even though you can feel the grip on your hair getting tighter. When you feel his pubes brush against your nose you pull back taking a breath and look at him. When you lock eyes with each other, you smile and say before opening your mouth: “Fuck my throat, Johnny.”

For a second you get scared that Soap will just cum as you speak when you physically see the shudder that goes through him. But then he grips your hair back making you look up to him and he kisses your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Spit, drool and precum all mixing between your tongues and when he draws back to talk a threat of spit connect your lips. “You are going to fucking kill me, lass.” He mumbles and stands up to full height.

He doesn't let go of your hair and when you stick your tongue out he slaps it with his cock. “Gonna fuck yer throat raw, bonnie. Bite if it gets too much.” He smirks before shoving his dick down your throat in a single thrust and beginning to fulfil his word.

“Fuck, bonnie.” He says slurring his words between moans. “Taking my cock so well, such a good fucking lass, so, so good, fuck.”

Your visions get blurry with the tears from fighting your gag reflex, your hands rest on Soap's thighs and you can feel them flex with each thrust. If it wasn't for your pants you know you would be literally dripping on the floor, never did you though it could turn you on this much. But seeing Soap becoming such a mess, not being even able to speak, just mumbles and curses leaving his mouth.

“Let me cum inside, bonnie, please. I wanna see you drink it, please, please, bonnie, please.” He begs looking at your face with a pained expression, and almost as if he was waiting for your answer when you slightly nod he grunts and you feel his spent travel down your throat. He stays like that for another second and finally pulls out, you open your mouth showing him your work and he smiles as he bends down to kiss you again. “Fucking beautiful, love.”

The next morning you are woken up by an alarm and just a second later a door slamming shut. “I call dibs on the bathroom!” Kyle shouts making you jump.

You turn around on Soap's arms, nuzzling your face on his chest and sighing satisfied. “Eejit” Soap mumbles with his chin resting on top of your head.

“Do we have to share the bathroom the three of us?” You ask against his chest.

“Ye didnae seem to mind sharing it with me last night.” He mumbles back and you feel his chest tumble with a laugh.

“Aw, shut up, Johnny.” You say chuckling and yawning. “What time is it, anyway? I feel like I slept just two hours.”

“0540, not too far off to be honest.” He answers and when your half-sleep brain processes what time it is you look at him as if he has just insulted you. “What?”

“Why the fuck are we up before 6 in the morning? Like, seriously, the fuck?” You ask grumpy as you sit up pulling your legs over Soap's torso. He caresses one of your calves and flexes his arm resting his head on his hand. If you were not so bothered to be awakened so early, you would admire his physique.

“This is the military, love.” He says smiling. “Ye look like an angry kitty.”

You pull the pillow from under his head and hit him with it making him laugh. “Do we need to be ready before six?”

“Yeah, actually, that's when we are supposed to have breakfast. We are meeting Lt. and Price there.” He says taking the pillow from his face. “Ye should get dressed.”

You groan standing up and picking your bag from the side of the bed. You pull your clothes out, and notice that you can barely form a full outfit; you sigh and sit on the floor looking at Soap who is now on his side, elbow on the bed and head resting on his hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and says: “That's all ye packed, lassie? I thought ye were staying more time.”

He stands up, walks to his closet and picks something from inside just to throw it to your head. An uf sound leaves your throat and you pick it up to see it, it is a sweatshirt with MacTavish written on the back. “It is cold this early in the morning, we don't want ye freezing up. Get dressed.”

He bends down to drop a kiss on your lips leaving you a bit stunned and enters the bathroom without knocking making Gaz protest from the inside. “Stop screaming, it's me. I'm just giving the wee lass some privacy, Gaz.”

You chuckle to yourself and quickly get dressed, putting on the only pair of jeans you have, and a weird t-shirt from some kind of ad you used to wear to sleep, feeling really grateful it is covered with Soap's sweatshirt.

“What are you doing here, luv?” Price asks standing up when he sees you enter the mess hall following Soap and Gaz. “Everything alright?”

The expression on your face must be portrait-worth because you can see even Simon's eyes twirl with a smile.

“What do you mean what I'm doing here?” You ask looking at Price, until you hear a little snickering coming from both Gaz and Soap and you finally put two and two together. You turn to Soap and when you finally make eye contact with him, he burst out laughing.

“I'm sorry, bonnie. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to waste it.” He says raising his hand in false innocence. He tries to side-hug you, but you move quickly raising your chin offended and walking up to Price. “I'll fetch ye breakfast as a peace offering, all right, love?”

“That's the minimum you can do!” You exclaim still offended and stick your tongue out to him as you sit between where Ghost is sitting and where Price was sitting, him following you.

“Sorry about that, love.” Price says rubbing your tight. “I told them muppets to let you sleep in today. Did you at rest good?”

Gaz sits in front of you with a smirk, and you don't know if he knows, but you are sure that if he does he will snitch on you so stay on edge making sure not to break eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I did. The bed was surprisingly comforting, and Soap was a weighted blanket so.” You answer still looking at Gaz. You can feel Price's questioning look and Ghost's smirk.

“So Soap was comfortable?” Gaz asks smiling.

“Yeah, quite comfortable.” You answer.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

You don't know how, but he knows.

“Is that why you followed him to the bathroom when he went in the middle of the night?” He asks.

Fucking Garrick.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” You respond looking at your nails.

“I'm talking about when you into the bathroom and helped-”

CLANK

Soap puts the tray of food in front of you just in time, cutting Gaz's claim and starts to enunciate the food he bought. “I got ye coffee cause it's obvious yer not a morning person, I brought ye toast, some fruits and a little cereal cause I didn't really know what ye wanted. And I bought ye chocolate pudding.” He says putting the little cup on your hands, giving you a kiss on your head. “For sucking my dick so good last night.”

Gaz bursts out laughing, happy that he didn't even need to tell anything, while Ghost chuckles under his breath and Price sighs rubbing his forehead.

“I think there is a conversation that we definitely need to have.” Price announces. “For everyone's sake.”

Hiii 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

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juniperskye · 1 month

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Who Are You Again?

Based on the following ask: I had another plot thought! Aaron x BAU Reader (female or gender neutral) where Reader disobeys an order to save a victim and gets hurt really bad. Reader wakes up in the hospital to Aaron who is angry at first but then is shocked when it turns out that Reader has retrograde amnesia from the injury. Reader has forgotten their entire career in the BAU and even that They and Aaron were secretly dating! Last thing Reader actually remembers was attending a lecture in college where Aaron was a guest speaker and Reader developed a crush on him! Now Aaron has to carefully navigate helping Reader recover without outing their relationship to anyone else. Or maybe he wonders if it's better they forget? But for a HEA ending definitely Aaron doing something romantic sparks a memory and helps everything come flooding back. @nyxwolph thank you for requesting again and trusting me with your ideas! – I did have to change things up a bit (I struggled big time with this one)

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5336

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap, some language, BAU canon typical violence, mention of parent death, mention of kidnapping, mention of Haley and Jack, secret relationship, let me know if I missed any!!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.” Essentially, something as small as a butterfly flapping its wings could cause something as catastrophic as a tornado.

Aaron wondered what small event happened that led to this moment right now. A moment that would change the trajectory of your lives forever.

*36 hours earlier*

“Garcia has the unsubs location; he’s headed down a backroad just east of the 95.” Aaron said.

“He’s devolving, he’s probably going to try and dispose of his latest victim.” Morgan chimed in.

“Not if we have anything to do with it.” JJ replied.

“His location is being shared with you all, everyone be safe, at this point he’s going to be willing to do anything to avoid prison.” Hotch added.

“I’m close by, I am going to go try and cut him off.” You suggested.

The team expressed their worry and care and urged you to be careful. The only thing you had on your mind, however, was saving the five-year-old boy this unsub had hidden. You drove as fast as your vehicle would allow, you had to get to the unsub. You had to save that boy.

As you got closer to the location Garcia had shared, you could see the dust trail the unsubs car was leaving down the road. You thought about your options, and you made a snap decision. Drive on, no matter the consequences – take out the unsub’s car. So that’s what you did.

You drove forward and your car t-boned the unsubs, only you hadn’t considered that he’d be driving a semi tractor. Upon impact, your SUV was crushed, in your rush to get to the unsub you’d forgotten to put on your seatbelt and your body was ejected through the windshield.

The accident was enough to stop the unsub long enough for the team to arrive. As they surveyed the scene, Aaron’s stomach dropped. He immediately began barking orders, demanding medics, and sending agents to the unsubs’ farm to find the boy. Throughout everything he refused to leave your side.

*Present Day*

“Sir, we had to place her in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in her brain to go down.” The doctor explained.

“Is there an estimate as to how long it’ll be until she wakes up?” Aaron asked.

“With these kinds of injuries, it’s hard to say. The brain is a tricky thing, and no two injuries are alike. We just have to wait and see.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said, shaking the doctor’s hand.

Your doctor made her exit and Aaron moved to the seat beside your bed. He gently took your hand in his own placing a kiss to the back of it before returning it to your side. Aaron had thought back to the night everything changed.

*One year earlier*

“Hey Hotch, here’s that report you asked for. You aren’t staying are you?” You asked, glancing at your watch.

“Thanks, and yeah I had a few things I needed to finish up.”

You made your way over to Aaron’s couch, dropped your bag to the floor, and shrugged your jacket off. You pulled your phone out to see what was still open for delivery in the area. Aaron and you had shared many nights like this, spending late nights together in his office. The two of you had grown very close over the years, so much so that David had outright asked Aaron if you two were dating. To which Aaron let out an awkward chuckle and denied the accusation. If only he knew.

“What are you doing? You should head home.” Aaron said.

“Well, you should too, and you aren’t, so I guess that means we’re ordering dinner.” You smiled at him.

“I love you.” Aaron said simply.

“What?” You were stunned.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t – I um….”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Aaron made his way over to you, gently caressed your face and kissed you. It was everything you had ever imagined. There had been this tension between the two of you over the last two years and it was all finally coming together.

After that night, Aaron and you had agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, to avoid any potential disruption to the team, but also any question as to your position on the team. Aaron didn’t want anyone to question the fact that it was your skills and resume alone that got you to where you are.

Yours and Aaron’s relationship blossomed after that night, but not without hardships. Aaron and you faced a lot of adversity in multiple aspects of your relationship; you had a hard time trusting people, Aaron had been self-conscious of your age gap, and you both couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t good enough for the other (not that either of you would bring it up).

*Present Day*

A tear fell from Aaron’s eye, he couldn’t fathom losing you. This was all part of the reason he didn’t want to get serious with someone after Haley, but then you came into his life. You’d come in and made yourself known with your kind eyes and witty charm; how could he not fall in love with you.

Aaron fell for you slowly then all at once, it came naturally, and he couldn’t help it. He knew that the team had their suspicions and honestly over the last year there had been some close calls, but you had ultimately maintained the secrecy of your relationship.

In this moment, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt and regret over the fact that he’d asked you to keep things quiet. Had he let the team in on your relationship, he could’ve done a better job at keeping you safe.

*2 Weeks Later*

Aaron had been by your side as much as possible over the last two weeks, which is exactly where he was when you started to stir. Aaron shot straight up in his seat, his hand quickly reaching for your own.

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your throat, your body hurt so bad, and you felt very confused. You attempted to open your eyes but immediately regretted it – the bright fluorescents adding to the pounding in your head. As you blinked through the brightness of the room, you glanced over to your bedside, noticing a tall man seated there.

“What on earth were you thinking? Driving into the unsub like that, you could’ve been killed. Your actions were reckless and unacceptable.” The man scolded you.

You couldn’t find it in you to reply, your head was pounding. You brought your hand up to your forehead and gently press the heel of your palm into it, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

“Sweetheart hold on, I’ll go get your doctor.” A deep voice sounded from your bedside.

Before you could question the pet name, you heard the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the linoleum floors.

The man returned with your doctor; he dimmed the lights slightly on his way back to your bedside. He moved to grab your hand again, to which you shifted, wringing your hands nervously in your lap.

“Hello, I’m doctor Raynor. How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck, what happened?” You questioned, giving your doctor and the man a once over.

You recognized the man; it was Special Agent Hotchner of the BAU. What was he doing here? What happened?

“Well, you were involved in an accident, can you tell me what you remember?” Dr. Raynor inquired.

“I um, well, I was leaving a lecture.” Your gaze shifted to Agent Hotchner “Your lecture actually, you were talking about MO’s. I guess the accident was after that?” You couldn’t help but notice Agent Hotchner’s expression faulter.

Your doctor looked over at Agent Hotchner and he shook his head. The two of them seemingly knew something you didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just given the wrong answer in front of the class. Dr. Raynor had gone through the rest of your injuries with you, multiple lacerations that had required stitches, a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and of course your TBI. Once she was done she gave you a somber look.

“Would you excuse us for just a moment? I am going to send in one of your nurses to check you over and I’ll be back in just a moment.” Dr. Raynor said.

“Oh, okay.”

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner left your room, and you tried your best to listen to their conversation.

*Hotch’s POV*

She doesn’t remember me, well us. It’s like the last five years have just disappeared.

“Agent Hotchner, I gather that the lecture she’s referring to did not occur two weeks ago when she was brought in.”

“No, that lecture was nearly five years ago.” I explained.

“This would be a case of retrograde amnesia, if she’s lost recent memories.” Dr. Raynor replied.

“Will her memory return?”

“It’s hard to say.”

While Aaron was completely devastated, he couldn’t help the doubt that creeped into his mind, telling him “This is for the best”.

*Normal POV*

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner looked extremely serious, and you started to feel nauseous. Something was obviously wrong. You watched as their conversation ceased and they made their way back into the room.

Something must have happened, why would Agent Hotchner be here.

“Alright, it would appear that due to the brain trauma you sustained in your accident, you are experiencing what we describe as retrograde amnesia. This is when you can’t recall memories from your past. Based on your most recent memory, it appears as if you’ve lost approximately five years.” Dr. Raynor explained.

“Five years? Five years of memories are just gone. I don’t understand. If that’s true then why are you here?” You asked gesturing to Agent Hotchner.

“Well, you work for the BAU. You have for about three years now.”

“I do? I – I, this is a lot. What does this mean? Have you called my emergency contact?” You asked.

“I uh – I am your emergency contact.” Agent Hotchner spoke up.

“What, why? It has always been my mom, I don’t understand.”

“I’m so sorry, your mom, she uh – she passed last year. That’s when you switched it over to me.” Agent Hotchner’s gaze shifted down to his shoes.

“She’s gone?” Your voice cracked.

“Okay, this has been quite a bit of information. The most important thing right now is getting healthy. We want to keep you here a little longer to continue monitoring the swelling in your brain. Once we’ve confirmed it has gone down, you’ll want to get back in your usual routine, that is the best shot at getting your memory back.” Dr. Raynor gently patted your leg.

“How am I meant to get back to my normal routine when I don’t know it? The one person I had, I just found out is dead.”

“Given that Agent Hotchner is your emergency contact, we would be able to release you into his care. For now, we just need to stay positive.” With that, Dr. Raynor made her exit.

“I know this is a lot, but the BAU, we’re like a family, that includes you. Each member of the team is going to be willing to do anything to help you throughout this process.” Agent Hotchner said.

Part of you knew you could trust him; he had kind eyes, and you knew he was genuine. However, the other part of you felt so hopeless, like a lost kid in a department store. How were you meant to go home with this man who you didn’t know.

*Five Days Later*

“Do you have everything?” Aaron asked.

He had been with you every day for the last five days. He had brought you some things from your apartment and asked you to call him Aaron for now while you were “getting to know him”. You had to admit, it had been pretty nice talking with him the last few days.

“I think so!” You looked over at him. “I know that I am meant to be staying with you, at least until I’m fully healed, but could we go to my apartment first? I’d like to see it and maybe go through some of my things?”

“Of course we can.” Aaron nodded, gesturing towards the door.

The drive to your place was filled with small talk, mostly you asking Aaron questions about the BAU and the time you’ve spent there. It felt weird asking the man who is technically your boss about your personal life.

When you arrived, Aaron made sure to open your door for you and carry your bag into your home. He led you inside and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he seemed in your place, like he’d been there before. Like he belonged there. You shook the thought from your mind.

“I got you a new phone, it’s all set up for you.” Aaron said handing you the device.

“Thanks! Were they able to back up the old one? I was hoping to go through old texts and pictures to gather some insight into my life. God that sounds weird.” You huffed out a breath.

“I have our technical analyst Penelope Garcia working on that for you.” Aaron informed you.

“That’s great, thank you.”

The truth was, Aaron didn’t have Garcia backing up your old phone, at least not yet. He knew that if he had brought it to her she would uncover all the private texts and photos that you two had shared over the last year. He didn’t want to risk everyone finding out about your relationship, especially now when he wasn’t sure what your future would hold.

Aaron watched you as you made your way around your apartment. You wandered slowly around letting your fingers graze the spines of books on your shelves, picture frames on the walls and tchotchkes that were strewn about your desk and shelves.

He so badly wanted to pull you into his arms, kiss your head and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t just your boss. But he also thought about all the things that could go wrong if he told you. You could question your own ethics and fall into self-loathing with the thought that you’d potentially slept your way to the top – this was the furthest thing from the truth, but he knew you and the way your mind spiraled. He wondered if it would just be easier if he let you find yourself all on your own, to let this thing between you go and hope that maybe you’d find your way back to him again.

When he looked over to you once again, he saw that you had found a photo album. It was one he was very familiar with; Garcia had gotten it for you on your 1-year BAU anniversary and filled it halfway. Since then, you’d continue to add to it all the photos you’d taken with the team.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a tear had fallen onto the picture you were currently examining. Your emotions were running high, looking through the album was so strange it felt like looking at a stranger and yet it was you in photo after photo looking happier than ever with these people you couldn’t remember.

You felt the couch dip beside you and Aaron gently rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I can’t imagine how overwhelming this all must be. I know that I can’t understand but I am here for you and I’m happy to lend an ear if you want to talk about it.” Aaron quietly soothed you.

“Thank you so much Aaron. I just don’t know how to wrap my head around this being me but not remembering it. Clearly you all mean so much to me and yet I have no recollection of any of this.” You sobbed.

Aaron and you sat like that on your couch for a while. He gave you the time you needed to calm down, while holding you, whispering sweet nothings to you. You felt oddly comfortable there in his arms, your mind shifted to the thought that enjoying the way his arms felt around you was also incredibly inappropriate given that he was your boss. At that thought you shifted slightly. You thought back to why you had signed up to audit Aaron’s lecture and while the main reason was the knowledge he’d lend you, a part of you allowed his looks to give you that final push in signing up.

“I should probably grab a few things so we can head out.” You whispered.

“Do you need any help?” Aaron asked.

“I should be okay, but I’ll let you know!”

Aaron drove the two of you back to his apartment, for the time being he had asked Jessica to keep Jack, this way you could adjust, and Jack also wouldn’t out your relationship. Aaron had his guest bedroom set up for you, he’d set it up with some of your favorite things. A lavender scented candle, extra pillows, a fluffy blanket, and he made sure to set a small trinket dish on the dresser, so you’d have a place to put your jewelry.

These of course were all things Aaron had previously had at his place for you. When you two had gotten increasingly more serious, he encouraged you to leave some stuff at his place and he’d gone as far as to supply some of your favorites around his home for you.

Aaron led you into his home and you couldn’t help but glance around, really taking in your surroundings. You couldn’t help but take note of a few things as he showed you around; there was a photo missing from the side table next to the couch (you could see the tiny bit of dust that must’ve collected around it), the pantry was stocked with quite a few of your favorite snacks, there was a pink coffee mug in the cabinet, and lastly, tucked under the shoe rack near the front door were a pair of fluffy gray slippers.

You couldn’t explain why, but there was a slight pang of jealousy in you as you thought of Aaron having a girlfriend. You knew you had no right to feel that way and it would be incredibly inappropriate, but it was a gut reaction.

*One Week Later*

Aaron and you had fallen into a weird sort of routine, it started to feel a lot like the 50’s, you making dinner and cleaning while he worked. You were starting to get a bit stir crazy, which is exactly why you were so excited today. Garcia would be coming by to see you; she was bringing over a bunch of photos and videos of you with the team throughout the last three years.

It was a paperwork catch-up day for the BAU, so Aaron had given Penelope the go ahead to take a long lunch and spend some time with you. So, when a knock on the door rang through the apartment, you couldn’t help the burst of excitement that coursed its way through your veins.

“Hi Penelope!”

“Hey babe! How are you feeling?” She asked, giving you a look of concern.

“I’m feeling pretty good, you know, except for the missing five years of memories thing.” You let out a low chuckle.

“Oh goodness! Well, I’ve brought a ton of stuff that might help bring some stuff back. I read that sense of smell is the sense that links with memories the strongest so have a bunch of things for you to smell while you look at photos in hopes something will come back to you.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” You smiled at Penelope.

The next hour or so went by with Penelope showing you photos and videos along with passing you various items to smell in hopes of bringing back some of your memories. And while it wasn’t like a wave crashing over you, bringing all your memories back, it did bring some things back. You could remember the members of the BAU and some of their quirks, you remembered the feeling of being in the bullpen (thanks to the smell of some very burnt coffee). What you were struggling to regain was your emotional memories, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the relationships you had with anyone from the team.

“I am glad that this helped! I should probably get out of your hair though; I can tell you have headache.” Penelope

“Thank you Penelope, I really appreciate all of this!”

You led her to the door, and she reminded you to get some rest and to take it easy. She also suggested that you come by the BAU for lunch in the next week or so to see everyone. The team had been doing a good job of not overwhelming you and allowing you time to get back in the swing of things.

“Oh, Penelope before you go, did you get a chance to back up my old phone? Aaron said you were working on it.”

“Oh, hon. He must’ve forgotten to mention it, but I will get started on that right away! I’ll text you as soon as I’m done, okay? We will just be able to pull the backup and put it on your new phone!” She said pulling you into a tight hug, before making her exit.

Why would Aaron have lied to you about your old phone? Maybe Penelope was right, and it just slipped his mind, he had been dealing with a lot, taking care of you, and having you stay with him.

You hadn’t meant to snoop, honestly, but after having talked with Penelope, the feeling Aaron was hiding something from you was extremely prevalent. You decided to look around a bit, you know, while putting the laundry away. You needed to put the towels away in Aaron’s bathroom, you just happened to notice the second toothbrush in the holder, the dress hanging inside his closet (come on, the door was already open), the ring box tucked in his sock drawer, what shocked you the most were the photos in the hall closet. It was a photo of him and a tall brunette that had you spiraling, where was this woman? You had clearly been invading his space long enough and you couldn’t bear the thought of coming between him and this woman who was to be his fiancé.

You needed to get back to your life, and out of Aaron’s hair. You decided that you’d tell him that night over dinner, you were going to move back home.

“Hey, I’m home!” Aaron called.

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked.

Aaron explained that his day was good, and he asked you about your get together with Penelope as you finished up dinner. Aaron set the table as you followed behind him plating up the food.

“I’m glad to hear things went well with Penelope. I think lunch with the team is a great idea.”

“Aaron I’m gonna move back home.” The words flew out of your mouth faster than your brain could catch up. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to impose on your life any more than I already have.”

“It’s truly not an imposition, but if that’s what you want.” Aaron looked deflated.

“I just think it’s important we both get back to our usual every day.”

“If you think that’s best.”

You two ate in silence. Afterwards you both went to the kitchen, cleaned up the dishes and made your way to your separate rooms. You began packing up your belongings and Aaron scrolled through photos of the two of you from before the accident.

*Two Days Later*

“Good morning gorgeous!!! I am calling to inform you that the backup from your old phone is ready, and I also think it is the perfect day for you to come in and have lunch with everyone!” Penelope sang over the phone.

“Okay, what time should I come down there?”

“Ummm maybe around 12:30? Everyone is usually ready to eat by then. I can call and order in something too!”

“Oh, and uh Pen, I don’t know the address, and I’m not cleared to drive.” You said shyly.

“Oh shoot, okay! I’ll see who is available to come and pick you up, no worries.” Penelope reassured you.

You took some time getting ready, most of the team hadn’t seen you since before the injuries, and while the cuts and bruises have faded and scarred, you still had a very broken wrist and frequent headaches, along with PTSD and anxiety attacks thanks to the TBI. You felt like you had been doing well, and based on your recent check-up with your neurologist, things are trending up in regard to your health. Though you began to worry that the worst had yet to come.

A knock on your door shook you out of your thoughts, as you made your way to answer it, you wondered who Penelope sent to get you. Pulling the door open revealed someone you were hoping you wouldn’t see so soon.

“Hi Aaron.”

“Hello, were going to go pick up the food on the way back to the BAU, if that’s okay.” Aaron explained.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.

The drive was filled with tense silence. You couldn’t help but wonder why Aaron would harbor any negative feelings towards you. You’d only moved out of his apartment so he could get back on to his life, if anything he should be grateful that you’ve gone home. One of the main reasons you’d really decided to go home was because of the fact that you were growing far too comfortable.

Things at Aaron’s house were starting to feel right, like it was where you belong. You had no idea how you had been able to work with him over the last few years, the crush you had on him all those years ago had only proven to grow stronger.

“I’ll run in and grab the food.” Aaron said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Before you could reply, he stepped out of the car and made his way into the restaurant.

Aaron got you signed in with a visitor’s badge (as you weren’t cleared to work) and then he led you up to the sixth floor, BAU bullpen. Upon walking in, you felt an odd sense of familiarity. You knew that it would make sense for the BAU to bring memories back and that you would have muscle memory to help lead you through the building, but it felt very strange.

You looked over at Aaron, “I need to go see Garcia, do you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

“Of course, her office is that way. Second door on the right.”

“Thanks.” You smiled.

You wandered through the corridor, catching a glimpse of Garcia through her open door. You lightly knocked on her door and walked into her office.

“Oh! Hello gorgeous!” Garcia squealed, standing, and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey Pen!”

“Let’s get your phone squared away and then we will go eat.”

You handed your phone over to Penelope and she began downloading the last backup from your old phone.

“This should only take a few minutes.”

Penelope and you made idle chit chat for a few moments while waiting on your phone. When it finished uploading, she unplugged it and handed it to you. The two of you then made your way to the bullpen.

Lunch with the BAU was overwhelming to say the least. It was fun talking to everyone, but you could tell everyone was walking on eggshells and you could see the pity flash behind their eyes as you sat and explained your lack of memories with the people sitting before you.

After lunch, Aaron let everyone leave early. It had been a paperwork day and the team had been very productive. He told them all to go home, but of course to leave their phones on, just in case they had to leave. Emily offered to drive you home, given the close proximity of your apartments.

When you got home, you changed into some comfortable clothes and sat on the couch. You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone. There were two things you noticed while going through everything, the first being a significant number of photos saved and the second being the texts exchanged between you and your boss.

You decided to go through the photos first. There were plenty of you with the various members of the BAU, but what caught your attention was one image in particular, in it, you were laid in bed with your head resting on a man’s chest…the man being none other than Aaron.

You quickly switched over to your messages app. Clicking Aaron’s name, you saw the most recent text…

“Be careful sweetheart. I love you.”

Your mind was racing, what were you meant to think, why would he keep this from you? Was the ring meant for you? You needed to see him.

You ordered an Uber and made your way to the FBI building. You signed in, getting a visitors’ badge and headed up to the sixth floor.

“Aaron” You called out into the bullpen.

“Is everything okay? What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as he walked out of his office.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Aaron questioned.

“That we were together.”

You gestured to your phone. Aaron dropped his gaze for a moment, before looking back to you. You could see the pain behind his eyes.

“Sweetheart, we had been keeping it a secret, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that maybe you’d be better off. I figured you might find someone more appropriate for you.”

“That wasn’t a choice for you to make. Aaron things have been confusing enough, losing my memory. But to have you lying to me, it’s total bullshit. How am I supposed to get my memories back if you are keeping such a big part of me a secret.” You couldn’t help the frustrated tears from slipping down your cheek.

Aaron reached for you and let his thumb brush the tear off your cheek. He stepped closer to you and brought his other hand to your cheek.

“I am so sorry. I should’ve told you from the get-go, I was scared. I thought that maybe I would tell you and you’d have to get to know me again and maybe you wouldn’t love me the way you did before. I also couldn’t help but think that I don’t deserve you and this was your perfect out. But that was selfish, I should’ve told you the truth.”

You leaned your head onto Aaron’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline and then he pulled back.

“Can I show you something?” Aaron asked.

You nodded and followed him to his office. Aaron led you around his desk and gestured for you to sit in his chair. He pointed to his computer screen, and you took note of the screen saver. It was a slideshow of pictures taken throughout your relationship, there were pictures of you at the FBI Gala, Jack’s soccer game, art museums, at Aaron’s home, at your apartment, etc..

It happened slowly, then all at once. A warm feeling flooded your veins, and a dull ache filled your head. Tears were steadily streaming down your face. You looked up at Aaron, and he met your gaze. A moment was shared before understanding washed over Aaron.

“I remember.”

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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 1 month

Text

Kinktober (reuploaded)

Thigh Riding (Matt)

Request: None

Warnings: Sub Matt, short, besties to lovers, clingy/needy Matt, subspace, whining, begging, just overall super submissive Matt, kind of anxiety subspace

Y/n’s pov

These last two weeks I have been super busy with work, and Matt who’s used to having my attention 90% of the day, is feeling neglected. I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m letting him sit in my room with me during my meetings or playing with his hair while I’m on a phone call but that’s not enough. I’ve even started editing in Matt’s room so I could spend more time with him. Matt’s my best friend, he just so happens to be super clingy towards me, now that Chris has a girlfriend. He also suffers from severe anxiety so sometimes he falls into a subspace and gets super clingy like a toddler to their mother.

Marylou had told me that Matt’s been like that his whole life, his brain just scrambles. He needs to be told what to do and praised or else he gets really sad/anxious and starts to cry. Knowing this is why I try to spend as much time with him as possible when he’s in his subspace. Today was a bit different though, as Matt openly admitted to everyone this morning that he was feeling ‘submissive and horny’ without a warning. Chris and I laughed while Nick just sat there uncomfortably until they finished their breakfast and both brothers left for the day.

Matt was really needy today, constantly wanting my attention and following my every move. He said he was tired so I went up to his room with him to edit some pictures and thumbnails while he slept. That was short-lived though, as 5 minutes later, Matt was asking to sit on my lap. This was new, but nonetheless, I agreed, letting him sit on my lap while I worked until he got uncomfortable and shifted to one of my thighs. This position was a bit awkward considering he was only wearing boxers and a tshirt, I was wearing the same but I had shorts instead of boxers.

I moved my leg under him and Matt let out a loud gasp that I just ignored until he experimentally moved his hips forward. “Matt, what are you doing?” I questioned, he let out a whimper as he rolled his hips forward again. “C-Can you have sex with me?” he asked, I was shocked to say the least. It’s not that I didn’t want to have sex with Matt, because quite frankly I did. It’s that I’m busy and he’s not in the right headspace, I’m not going to take advantage of that now that he finally trusts me enough to be as vulnerable with me as he is to his mom and Chris.

I thought of a way to let him down gently so he wouldn’t cry, “I’m sorry Matty, I can’t. I’m really busy today, how about I leave for a little bit and you can jack off?” I said softly. I gauged his face for any signs of sadness but he was more so upset. He was still essentially grinding on my thigh in a way while whining because I said no. “Bu-But please?” he tried again, “Not today baby, I’m sorry” I said to him again, “Can I- Uh can I-“ he started.

“Can you what? You gotta use your words” “Can I ride your thigh? Please?” he begged, shoving his hand into his boxers and readjusting his cock. I figured there’s no harm in letting him use my thigh, as long as we’re both clothed, it should be fine. Sighing, I clicked save on my laptop and stood up, picking Matt up and putting him on his bed. He looked at me with wide eyes, “A-Am I in trouble?” he asked nervously, “No, I’d just rather sit on your bed, c’mon you can ride my thigh if you keep your clothes on” I explained.

He excitedly got back on my thigh, fixing his cock so the head was pressed right against my thigh, taking on a lot of his body weight as well so there was more pressure on it. He started moving his hips, whining at the new feeling he’d discovered. “Touch me?” he asked, I cupped his face and lightly stroked his jaw. “I’m sorry Matty, I can’t do that” I said softly causing Matt to loudly whine. “Just to help me move. Pleeeaase?” he dragged out.

I gave in, agreeing that I would hold onto his hips or waist to help him move faster. I could feel Matt’s dick rubbing on my thigh and not gonna lie, it turned me on. Matt had his hands on his thighs as he essentially humped my thigh, “Fuck! This feels so good! Wish you would touch me Y/n/n, so badly” he moaned out. “I know Matty, I’m sorry. You’re doing so well by yourself though” I praised him. He started to move faster, swiveling his hips a few times and moaning.

Matt must be really sensitive because he was already whimpering and acting like he was close. “Are you gonna cum Matt?” I asked seductively, “Y-Yes, s-so close, can I cum in my pants? Is that okay?” he inquired, breathlessly. “Go ahead baby” I said and Matt started moving faster. He moved his arms to my shoulders and hid his face in my neck, moaning at the pleasure. Matt’s hips sputtered and he moaned loudly in my ear as he came, a lot of his cum ended up leaking through his boxers and onto my thigh but I didn’t mind. I started rubbing Matt’s back while he came down from his high, panting in my ear and holding onto my shoulders tightly.

“Do you feel better now Matty?” I asked him softly, only getting a simple hum back before he pulled away from my neck. He looked so fucked out and I didn’t even do anything to him, Matt got off my thigh and instantly frowned, “I made a mess” he pouted. It really wasn’t even that bad, he just needed to change his boxers and I needed to wipe my leg off but to him, it seemed very important. “It’s okay, I can get us cleaned up baby” I smiled down at him, and to my surprise, Matt leaned down and started licking his own cum off my thigh, it was pretty hot.

“Wha-“ I started but Matt was already done, “Was I a good boy?” he asked with pleading eyes, “Yes Matty, you were very good” I praised, making him smile widely. He made his way off the bed and quickly changed his boxers as I walked back over to his desk, but he stopped me by hugging me from behind. I turned around to properly hug him and kiss the top of his head, “Thank you” he smiled happily “You’re welcome handsome” I smiled back. Matt pulled away from the hug and went over to his bed, “I’m going to take a nap now, can you still stay in here please?” he asked while getting under the covers. “Yes, I’ll stay. Goodnight Matty” I replied, “Goodnight” he mumbled back, already falling asleep while I went back to my editing.

Taglist: @angelic-sturniolos111 @biimpanicking @biplrbtch @chrisolivia4l @christinarowie332 @chr1sgirl4life @creamoncreamoncream2 @delimeats-000 @devthepoet @ermdontmindthisaccount @flowerxbunnie @fionaheartswomen @gilbertscurls @heartsforchrisandmatt @iheartchrissturniolo @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @justaslvttygirl @kvtie444 @lustfulslxt @luvysworld @meg-sturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @mangosrar @mangoposts @meerkatzthings @mattsnutsack @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @recklesssturniolo @solarsturniolo @soursturniolo @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @sturniolocoded @sturniofilmd @sturniolohoe @sturniolopepsi @sturniolo0ntop @thecynthh

All work is subject to copyright

©Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2024

Do not steal, use, or reupload my work

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo #smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplet smut #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo x reader #daddyslilchickenfingers

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slasher-cam · 2 months

Note

Hello Hello! I hope you're doing good!

Since requests are open, what about Dogday getting saved by a teenager who’s desensitized to the horrors of the factory? Like of course, they’re perturbed, but aside from initially seeing Dogday(because holy shit), the biggest reaction they’ll give is a cringe and a “eugh” or some other tame exclamation of “that’s fucked up.” Essentially just Dogday interacting with a kid who’s weirdly chill with the circumstances and tries to be silly sometimes to lighten the mood (they’re not good at being serious).

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!

Weird Kid

Request? [ yes ] [no] Notes|| Thank you for the request!! Good day/night as well, hope you enjoy xo Synopsis|| You were a child in a orphanage after you were detained from Playtime.co when you get a cryptic letter. You meet dogday who is a little more than surprised to see another kid after so long Warnings||SFW-♡,PLATONIC-❁, crack?? ASKS-✰ Word Count||381

It was already weird enough when you got a letter in the mail saying "Everyone thinks the staff dissapeared 10 years ago, Wer'e still here FIND THE FLOWER"

They couldn't even spell "disappeared" correctly..

Needless to say you were suspicious but you couldn't help yourself but to go

But no matter what horrors you discovered and monsters you fought, you forced yourself to carry on deeper and deeper

What can i say? Your child brain yearned for the mines

And boy..did you go deep...

After it took you ages to get power back to the playhouse you stumbled into the play structure and saw him

DogDay

He was chained by his wrists and spilt down his middle with only a belt keeping his innards well, In

He looked up, his eyes near lifeless until he looked at you

"You...you're Poppy's angel!..come to save us.."

"Shit,..what the hell happened to you?"

"Language angel!"

DogDay was still getting over the shock of someone finding him after so many years, much less a scrawny little 16 y/o

His eyes widen in surprise as you pick him up and strap him to your back with the belts the use to hold him by his wrists

"Are you sure I'm not to heavy angel? You should just leave me angel, I'm a lost cause."

"Eh you're only a little heavy but I've been through worse in this hellhole. Besides, no way in hell i would leave you behind. You're the first friend i made that didn't try to kill me right away"

You joke with him trying to lighten up the mood as you smile in what feel like forever

Hes totally weirded out by how calm you are staying with the situation you're in but he can't complain. I mean he activly had his legs cut off and was hung by some chains for god knows how many years.

He totally expected you to by scream and crying from being traumatized from seeing him in his current state but now he is from how calm you are

DEFINITELY weirded out by how calm and nonchalantly you are sewing on a new pair of legs to him

But its a bit comforting to have someone treat him normal than screaming in terror

NEW FRIEND UNLOCKED

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚｡

Hope you enjoyed xoxoᡣ𐭩

#poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters x reader #dogday #dogday x reader #dogday headcanons #dogday x y/n #platonic dogday x reader #teen reader #x teen reader

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lucky-slice · 1 month

Text

Do you understand how much kevin respects neil? And i don't mean when it comes to exy, like sure there's a whole lot of you're not good enough followed by you will make court bluh bluh bluh, i mean fundamentally as a human.

Kevin and Neil's conversation after the truth of Neil's father is revealed drives me absolutely insane because I think it highlights a lot about how Kevin views Neil.

so indulge me for a bit....

I think a lot of people forget, in light of Andrew choking Kevin for not telling him the truth, that Kevin's initial reaction was to tell Neil to run.

*sorry for the quality - these are all screenshots off my phone

Kevin's instinct is to tell Neil to save himself, despite what that would mean for the team's success and for Kevin himself. This is significant to me for two reasons.

It highlights that Kevin genuinely cares about Neil outside of his exy potential. For most people, this would be a pretty obvious response to finding out your teammate has a guaranteed death sentence if they stick around, so it might not seem all that meaningful, but Kevin was raised in such an environment were you continued to play no matter what - even at the risk of death. Kevin is unflinchingly callous when it comes to exy and his teammates (*see his reaction to Seth's death), but he is frantic in his concern for Neil in contrast to his fairly passive response to basically anyone else's wellbeing outside of exy. Neil's death will have no real impact on Kevin. If Neil dies or goes to the ravens, nothing changes for Kevin. He is not at a greater risk of being hurt by Riko or the Moriyama's nor will his exy career be effected. That's not to say he would tell Neil to stay if he cared about him any less, but there is a desperation that implies a depth beyond just that of a teammate.

The fact that Kevin is frantic and desperate for Neil to leave, gives weight to his decision to keep teaching Neil in the aftermath of the revelation.

Neil doesn't want to run - he wants to be Neil Josten until the end. He gave Kevin his game and now he's asking him to keep it and Kevin obliges.

This is essentially Kevin promising that he will keep Neil's secret. He will allow Neil to wear his mask and continue teaching him despite the fact that Neil is essentially a dead man walking. This, to me, is Kevin ultimately respecting Neil and his choice. At any moment, Kevin has the ability to got to Wymack or Andrew and give Neil the chance at surviving, but that would mean betraying Neil.

Some people (certainly the foxes) would view refusing Neil's request as the proper and morally correct thing to do. But I think Kevin's immediate acceptance of Neil's decision is both immensely meaningful to Neil and also a signifier of a shared understanding between to two.

Imagine how impactful it must be for Neil, who has never had autonomy over his own life and has been marked for death basically since he was born, to be told that not only will his decisions and his autonomy be respected, but there is someone who will stand by his side on the court, knowing the whole truth, until the very end.

Kevin doesn't have much to offer Neil at this point. He can not give him a future - he'll be long dead before he can ever make court, and Kevin is a coward - he is not andrew, he can't stand up against the Moriyama's or Riko or Neil's father. Kevin can not protect Neil in a way that matters. All he can do is promise to keep Neil's secret and offer him a few more months of being Neil Josten.

I'm not including this to disparage Andrew or to suggest that he does not respect Neil, but this highlights that Kevin knows the decision to keep Neil's secret is one only Kevin would make. Andrew without a doubt would immediately try to get Neil to leave or attempt to get him into protection. I'm not passing a judgement of morality on what would've been the right thing to do, but I do think Kevin's reaction is indicative of the fact that Neil and Kevin understand each other in a way that no one else really will.

Neil and Kevin are a parallel's in a number of ways. Kevin lived the life that Neil was supposed to have and they are two parts of one story.

To them exy is not a game, but it's not really about exy either. It's about deciding to stay just to play for a couple more months even though you'll wind up dead because playing means you finally get to live after years of being a ghost. It's about playing to be the best no matter what, even though the consequences are having your hand smashed and the life you know completely demolished. It's about playing even though you're shaking with fear and anxiety because you need proof that your life, whether it be running to survive or living under an abusive hand, was not a waste.

Kevin agrees to keep Neil's secret because if the roles were reversed, Kevin would like to believe that he'd be strong enough to ask Neil for the same thing. This is obviously conjecture and a heavy heavy reading between the lines, but I'd like to think there's some truth there.

Finishing up with this line because it makes me a little emotional.

Kevin starts the conversation by calling Neil "Nathaniel" and ends it by calling him Neil again. Its right there in the text, "it was a promise". Kevin is offering Neil a life that is fully his - not his father's, not Riko's, but Neil's to do with what he would like, even if its only for a couple more months. If that's not respect, than I don't know what is.

#kevin day #neil josten #gnat be quiet #aftg #screaming and smashing bottles and shouting do you get it at the top of my lungs #do you get it?#this is what kevin does #he believes in people until the very end because that's only thing he can offer #I think there's a lot to delve in here about choices and freedom and growing up without either #and about what it means to live for yourself #even when that means dying for yourself too #maybe kevin doesn't know how to be brave but he knows how to give other people the chance to be

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lunareiitic · 4 months

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HSR 1.6 SPOILERS AHEAD BE WARNED

I saw a discussion on Reddit earlier where someone talked about how gracious Herta is to Ruan Mei and felt that the plot shows that Ruan Mei is taking advantage of her and I felt like... it's not a bad conclusion to draw from the text but. It feels not correct. Like yes, Herta essentially does let RM do whatever she wants, especially with regards to the space station, and RM doesn't seem to be very thankful for it. (Setting aside the fact that it isn't really Herta's space station. Asta's the one who bankrolls and manages it. It's just got Herta's name on it. Herta is just as uncaring to the researchers lmao) But to call RM a "passive manipulator" (yes, I saw this take too) of her and nothing more I think... overlooks both of their personalities? Taking into account that both of these characters are essentially confirmed autistic (go see the official post about the Genius Society, you can't make this up) their dynamic is a little tragic but very true-to-life.

Herta is loud, pushy, and bratty. She's like a cat- she doesn't take no for an answer and the moment you try to get her to do something she doesn't want to do she goes limp and useless. She admires Ruan Mei because she's nothing like her. And RM would never push Herta to do anything. RM doesn't push. She doesn't even really manipulate. The woman cannot lie to save her life. All she did was ask Herta if she could use part of the space station and Herta obliged, and it sounds like she'd been waiting for Ruan Mei to finally ask her for something. RM doesn't really have a malicious bone in her body. That's what makes her so terrifying. People are often just willing to do as she asks and she makes no pretenses or illusions about herself, her motives, or her life. The closest she gets to lying is just not answering when pressed. She is so socially inept she has to drug the trailblazer into silence so they'll help her. And I think this is... out of embarrassment? If it were me, an autistic bitch who cannot lie to save my life, I would want to do something similar. She knows she's gotten herself into a situation because she left the incubator on too long and then the space station got attacked, but admitting that to Herta would wound her pride and also cause friction between them. You can tell that she brought the Trailblazer into that Genius meeting because she was afraid Herta and Screwllum had caught on to her, and once she realizes that it's just them debating about (in her eyes) nothing, she lets the Trailblazer go. I've seen people call that "callous", as if she was dropping them as soon as they were not useful to her. But she says why she does it basically immediately- she thinks it would bore us and she has something else more important that she needs our help with.

I think the part of Ruan Mei's character that people are overlooking right now is that Ruan Mei does care. Look at the story bit for Genius' Repose, where she serves machine oil in a teacup for Screwllum and promises to send a box of homemade sweets to Herta's flesh-and-blood body. She's the kind of person who is actively thinking of her mother and her grandmother and their little home in the snow every time she eats something sweet. Her creations are literally desperate with love. Love, love, love, love. Love that feels alien to her, love that she can't put into words, love that her alexithymia won't let her ascertain and compartmentalize. Love that is as elusive and vexing and important as that spark of the divine soul she's been chasing all this time. She loves and she loves deeply, to the point of obsession. But she's in love with the past as much as Herta is- their signature light cones both have them reflecting on a past version of themselves that they know they cannot have back. She quite literally brought her mother back to life because she couldn't bear to break a promise to her late grandmother (who... somehow, is still waiting for her... somewhere). She's a deeply sentimental person. Haven't you ever looked at other people and felt, even for just a moment, that you are apart from them? That they have something you lack? What if you let that feeling consume you? Ruan Mei yearns for a world that she cannot touch because she's lost the trees in the greater forest of her mind. She feels the need to become god because she feels so utterly alienated from the world around her. But she can't escape herself, no matter how far she runs.

I guess what I'm trying to say, is that Herta and Ruan Mei are friends, even if Ruan Mei doesn't feel that she's capable of it. It makes a lot of sense that they're both ice too, element ruled primarily by The Remembrance. I wonder how they both feel about that?

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr spoilers #ruan mei #herta #this got away from me but I have been thinking about her nonstop for two weeks now

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brighteuphony · 2 months

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I LOVE your Sakura AU, thank you so much for making it 🥹

Even though her ending is supposed to be “good”, I always thought that canon didn’t do her justice and threw any character development she had out of the window so she can be with Sasuke

I SO wanted her to finally move on and just let go

And I don’t have anything against Sasusaku

But I think it’d be much more beautiful if Sakura long let go of her feelings by the time Sasuke came to his senses and they developed their relationship TOGETHER from the START

And, once again, your work is AMAZING and I can’t wait for next pieces ❤️

Btw, can I ask a question?) Will we see Naruto’s and Sasuke’s reaction to her condition (maybe flashback to before she left the village?), if not, can you please tell me a bit about it? I can’t imagine them to ignore her after the incident, especially considering that they are at fault as usual

Thank you so much for the kind words! I've also never been a fan of how Sakura ended up. I have no beef with SasuSaku, but my biggest issue was that we never saw Sasuke try to make up/connect with Sakura in the same way we saw him do with Naruto, so their romance in Boruto just felt so...abrupt?

As for what happens to Sakura and her friends....

Sasuke was essentially put on probation/jailed, but broke out and defected to Otogakure as canon. This devastates Sakura, as she's both in deep denial about his contribution to her injuries and also the fact that she basically threw herself in there for nothing. Kakashi shuts down completely. It's a nightmare replay of his own past, including the female team-mate being horrifically injured by the chidori. The guilt of everything is eating him alive so he basically withdraws into himself and uses her demotion to civilian status as a way to trick himself into thinking that if he just 'rips off the bandaid' and cut ties, she'll be able to move on more easily.

Naruto is the only person who is really able/willing to face justice. After the incident, he was basically also put on probation/awaiting trial but busted himself out to join Jiraya.

So for context, Sakura got clapped hard by the Rasengan/Chidori combo (hearing gone, nerve damage, eyes shot etc) and basically had to be put in a coma to try and stop the damage from getting worse, but unfortunately none of the medics in Konoha had the ability to reverse anything but the most superficial damage. So Naruto joined Jiraya in an attempt to find and bring the only person in the world who could give Sakura a sliver of hope.

I felt like this worked well with canon and the desperation to get Tsunade to be hokage and Naruto basically begged her on his hands and knees to help Sakura. Tsunade made it there in the nick of time managed to save everything but her eyes.

But Sakura's life has fallen apart, her career is over, her parents dead from Konoha Crush and her eyes gone...and Naruto is the most convenient and available person to take out all her rage on, so...while he deserves a lot of that rage..she is essentially punching down on who she perceives to be the cause of all her problems.

Lee is in the same boat as her, but while he tries very hard to be there for her, Sakura can't stand to be with him right now, as it just makes the reality of life hit that much worse- especially when she finds out there's a surgery that might give him a better chance than she'll ever have.

And Ino visits often at first, but then it's awkward...and painful as the weeks go by. They have lunch and gossip but at some point, there's not much a shinobi and civilian have in common, especially after the shortage of manpower post Konoha-crush has Ino entrenched in the shinobi life more than ever before.

I hope this answered some stuff! Thank you so much for the questions and the interest! I love Sakura and I just wanna give her the development and power she deserves!!

#naruto #naruto au #sakura #haruno sakura #ino #kakashi #tsunade #rock lee #sasuke #sakura pov: ur life is falling apart #no hating on sakura here #yes she's cruel #but she's also TWELVE and has NO real support #and honestly naruto is part of the problem rn

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thedarkdisgrace · 2 months

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This is my thread from twitter on Dazai’s promise to Oda, how I believe Dazai tries to keep that promise & Dazai’s interactions with the PM + why Oda last words were what they were. I kinda had written this in response to some particular claims over there. Mostly around Dazai returning to the mafia.

Not gonna lie, this might be long for some, I actually cut out alot lol I kinda got carried away. These are just my interpretations, take them as you will. I also didn’t edit this from twitter so, sorry if there are spelling mistakes lol

I want to start out by saying that if you are viewing BSD in a “everything is either black or white” lens, I feel you are missing the entire point of BSD & a major theme. This story is entirely morally gray & every character is a different shade of gray.

There is no pure good or pure evil within BSD, even if some characters might get close to the extreme of one side or the other. Now, going into the rest of this with that mindset let’s start with EXACTLY what Oda said to Dazai.

“Be on the side that saves people. If both sides are the same, then choose to become a good person. Save the weak, protect the orphaned. You might not see a great difference between right & wrong but… saving others is just a bit more wonderful.” The Dark Era.

Oda is essentially saying that “sides” don’t matter, what matters is him choosing to be a good person. THAT is what Dazai promises to Oda. His promise is to become a good person. That is the goal he works towards everyday. Oda didn’t make him promise to leave the mafia.

It makes no difference what /side/ Dazai is on or who he interacts with. No matter where Dazai is or who he is with it doesn't change HOW he chooses to approach the world. As long as Dazai continues to do whatever good he can, to work towards being a better person, he is keeping

his promise to Oda. His interactions with the mafia or the people within it don’t affect the fact he is still choosing to try to be better everyday (which again, is keeping his promise). Whatever the mafia does is separate from Dazai even if he is interacting with the members.

Hell, even if Dazai ends up in the PM again with the upcoming trade, it doesn’t negate all the progress he made NOR does it break his promise. Dazai isn’t /completely/ different BUT he /is/ different than he was back then. His perceptions have changed, whether he admits it or not

That won’t change if he goes back. He will continue to be different if he had to rejoin the mafia. He’s fully capable of keeping his promise even then. There are all different levels & types of “doing good”. Dazai is still capable of doing good in the mafia, just not in the same-

exact ways he can in the ADA but all the organization's play important roles in protecting the city. People seem to forget that even the mafia members are mostly morally gray, they still have the capacity to do good, even if they also do bad. Chuuya is a good example as he has-

saved the entire city a minimum of twice, he loves his city & would give his life to protect it. On a smaller scale, Kouyou agreed to assist Dazai in getting Kyoka free from the PM & the government. Plus don’t forget Oda himself was a mafia member & ex assassin yet many describe-

him as a good person. Besides, the ADA has needed the PMs help countless times at this point, the ADA would’ve been screwed without them. Point is, Dazai can continue to chose to be a better person no matter what organization he’s with or whom he chooses to interact with.

His individual journey is up to him, but if he continues doing better that’s all that matters. But since I know people will disagree about what that promise means, let’s get to the root of WHY Dazai’s promise to Oda was to choose to become a good person.

So, why were Oda’s last words what they were? As we all know Oda was similar to Dazai in some ways when he was younger. As a child assassin, he was pretty much disconnected from the world around him emotionally & just going through the motions until Natsume came along.

Natsume gave Oda the book he had been looking for, the last installment of his favorite series. Reading that book is the key moment that altered Oda’s path. In Oda’s own words, “the world I’d known before completely changed. Before that all I had was killing.” The Dark Era.

But the copy Natsume provided was missing specific pages around why the assassin character in the book stopped killing, Natsume obviously did this on purpose. Before providing Oda with the last book, Natsume had told him “Then you write what happens next”.

Oda decides to take those words to heart later on & write about why the assassin stopped killing himself. This is where one of the most important lines is.

Oda says “I decided to write it myself. I would become a novelist & write a story about why the man stopped killing. But to become a novelist, I needed to sincerely know what it meant to live. So I stopped killing.” The Dark Era.

Oda admits here that he hadn’t really lived, hadn’t known what it /meant/ to live. To experience life in the way most people do. This is where he & Dazai connect. Neither of them had really lived & they couldn’t see a reason to do so.

Oda even says in the Untold Origins light novel, “I don’t need forgiveness. There is no forgiveness in this world. There is only retaliation- revenge against those who betray you.”

That was Oda’s mentality before but then Oda makes his choice to stop killing.

It’s only then that he starts to actually truly interact with the world around him & the people in it. /Especially/ the people. He starts to help people & through doing so he begins to understand living. Oda says he continued to think about one particular line from the novel-

“People live to save themselves. It’s something they realize right before they die.”

Oda believes Natsume knew he was an assassin. That he gave him the book with the torn out pages & that singular line left untouched to tell Oda to save himself. I believe Oda is right.

Natsume wanted Oda to save himself. As for exactly why Natsume did so, I couldn’t say as of right now.

But why is all that important?

Well, because that’s what Oda ends up telling Dazai with his last words.

Yes, Oda tells Dazai to become a good person, those are the words he uses & that is Dazai’s promise to him. But the message beneath the words themselves? /Save yourself./ Oda is telling Dazai the same thing Natsume told him. /Save yourself./

Oda wanted Dazai to save himself. He tells Dazai to become a good person, to save people, because that’s how he, himself, found an understanding of living. It’s how he experienced living for the first time & how he was trying to save himself a well.

He encourages Dazai to follow the path he did because they are similar & saving others was the only thing Oda could see that worked. & Dazai listens /because/ he knows Oda actually walked that path himself.

Oda would not care who Dazai associates with or where he goes as long as Dazai continues to try to save himself. To keep trying to be a better person for his own sake as well as others. Again, I repeat the line Oda kept coming back to. “People live to save themselves”.

So, if Dazai was hanging out with Chuuya (or anyone else in the PM or in the dark) or even started dating Chuuya, as long as Dazai continues working to save himself & saving others, Oda would be happy for him.

Dazai is also pretty clear with how he feels about Chuuya, given he never calls him ‘ex partner’ he only ever calls him his partner. I think what he says at the end of the lovecraft fight is an accurate description, “we’re enemies of the bad guys.”

Regardless of sides, their relationship hasn’t changed, they’ve proven that 3 times over already, & I doubt it will. Sides don’t matter because they’ve always only been themselves with each other. Dazai has still kept up trying to be better since reuniting with Chuuya,

That’s not going to change if he spends more time with Chuuya. Dazai is his own person & is more than capable of continuing to keep his promise no matter where he ends up or who he’s with.

Not to mention every single time Dazai & Chuuya have worked together again, it was for a good purpose. To save Kyu & prevent another Guild attack, Chuuya fought a dragon to save the city (without even talking about the plan beforehand) & with no guarantee Dazai would be alive

(aside their soulmate thing where they always know) & now they worked together to defeat Fyodor to save the world (hopefully saved it). So, obviously being close to Chuuya again hasn’t changed Dazai’s goals & he is still keeping his promise.

But tbh, at this point, I don’t think his promise is the /only/ thing keeping Dazai in the light & trying to become a better person anymore. Dazai in DA says “You were right, Odasaku. It’s certainly wonderful to be on the side that saves others. If you plan on living, that is.”

While Oda was right when he told Dazai being on the side of light wouldn’t be able to fix his loneliness, it’s clear by now Dazai sees the value in being there & he understands why Oda told him what he did. I think through the ADA, he has found more & more reasons to keep going.

In conclusion, Oda simply wanted Dazai to save himself by choosing to become a better person. Dazai is his own person & is more than capable of keeping his promise to Oda no matter where he is & who he’s interacting with.

BSD is a morally gray story & all the characters are various levels of gray, pretending the mafia is /all/ bad is just objectively incorrect given all they’ve done for the city.

Chuuya & Dazai’s relationship is one built on unyielding trust & his presence in Dazai’s life isn’t gonna affect Dazai choosing to be better everyday. It already hasn’t changed anything since they’ve ben working together again. I doubt his presence would ever change it.

Reminder to everyone, these are my interpretations & opinions. Take what you want from it, if you made it this far thank you for reading. i hope you guys liked it.

#bsd spoilers #bsd analysis #bsd manga #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #oda sakunosuke #bsd #soukoku

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writergirl2011 · 8 months

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Regarding Hyle Hunt

There's been a little discourse regarding the role one Ser Hyle Hunt will play in Lady Brienne of Tarth's storyline going forward. Some people seem to think that he is her perfect match because they hate the idea that Brienne deserves to have a romance with the man she wants--aka one Ser Jaime Lannister--because that messes with the narrative they want to push, whatever that narrative may be.

Some people think that Ser Hyle Hunt is a more interesting and more remarkable man than he truly is, when nothing he's said or done to this point has shown him to be anything of the sort. Personally, I'm not impressed with a man who set up a bet with his buddies over a young noblewoman's virginity--which was essentially the kiss of death to said young woman, who didn't have much going for her on the marriage mart in the first place. (Don't give me the "men will be men" explanation. That makes you no better than Randyll Tarly.) And his proposal of marriage boils down to: "Hey, baby, you've got an island and a lot of money, I've got a functional dick that's already proven to be fertile. I can close my eyes and blow out the candle. Let's do it." How romantic.

There has been absolutely no indication that Brienne will ever love this man, or even care the slightest for him. Threatening to turn someone into a eunuch isn't playful banter, especially not when said man once bet on her virginity and the last time she confronted someone(s) in that bet, she beat the living shit out of them. She hasn't forgotten, and she really hasn't forgiven. And when it comes to Hyle, she never really will, because in her eyes, what he did was the worst of all of them. He came the closest to winning by doing the one thing none of the others did--he made her feel included, like she might be earning a little bit of respect in that camp. Then she found out it was all a lie.

"But she hated Jaime at first!" Yeah, but that was before Jaime: told a lie about Tarth's wealth to save her from rape; shouted "sapphires" and risked a beating to save her from rape again; risked his own life to save hers by jumping unarmed into a bear pit (with only one hand to boot), and revealed the truth about why he killed Aerys, thus revealing that rather than it being a callous act, he'd saved an entire city of innocents--a noble act. THEN he put his trust in her to find Sansa, gifting her with a horse, armor, and a priceless sword. He gave her the respect Hyle only pretended to give her, expecting nothing in return.

What has Hyle done on their road trip? When Brienne kills the three former Bloody Mummers, I'm curious: how long was Hyle there? At least long enough to see her and Pod burying Nimble Dick, but the way he's described sitting there casually makes me think he'd been there longer. Watching. Sitting back doing nothing while she might've been killed. And we don't know what his true motives are in following her. If she finds Sansa, is he going to help her get Sansa to safety--or is he going to betray her and try to turn Sansa in to the Crown for the reward?

If you want any further proof that she doesn't care about Hyle, think about who she tried to bargain for when Lady Stoneheart was about to hang them all. Not herself, and certainly not Hyle. Podrick, the boy. And when they were hanging, as she was dying. the only person she had eyes for was Pod.

And who did she presumably agree to kill Jaime for? Podrick.

Yeah. She's really going to come around on Hyle.

#Brienne of Tarth #Hyle Hunt #Jaime Lannister #ASOIAF meta #give me a break people #reading comprehension #it's a thing

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yukidragon · 3 months

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Sunny Day Jack - Mafia AU - Family Business

After my last post about the Blouin family in the Mafia AU for Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack I wound up going on a little extra ramble over on my twitter (calling it X is too weird for me) about how the family business got started. I figured I'd post it here too to make it easier to read and reference later.

It all started with a small business run by the beautiful Alma Blouin and her husband ???

I'd call him [Redacted] but that alias is taken already, so let's stick with what was written in the family tree, shall we?

I was inspired by Makes me Smile, an engaging story written by Sauce that takes place in the SunnyTime Town AU, that it actually started as a family-run traveling carnival that was a cover for more shady business. The family name and business wound up taking up some permanent roots in St. Valens because of Marceau.

There were more opportunities in that crime-riddled city to do backrooms deals, score illicit substances, and other stuff like that. St. Valens was a city rife with crooked cops and people with dubious morals. Sadly, this hasn't changed in present day. If anything, it's only gotten worse. It just can hide behind a shiny new coat of paint and colorful smiles thanks to the Blouin family taking over so many local businesses under their brand name of SunnyTime LLC.

Lucy Connolly is actually responsible for the SunnyTime brand, which is one reason why she kept her last name even after marrying Marceau Blouin. Since she was young, she wanted to make it big in the city, really clean up the town. She succeeded in making it big, but somewhere along the way she got sucked into a world full of sin and vice where her formally black and white view of morality was blurred with many shades of gray. She's still trying to do the right thing, particularly for her family and people she wants to protect, but sometimes she found it was necessary to do morally questionable things to do it. It was a slow corruption of innocence in a sense.

In a way, Jack gets his more twisted view on right and wrong from Lucy, as Marceau is a bit more up front about how messed up the criminal underworld is and their involvement in it. Jack tries to keep things as "friendly" as possible if he can help it, so to speak.

Marceau started off the business in St. Valens with an entertainment club. You had to know the right signs to get access to the good stuff they didn't show on the menu, stuff that could get you thrown in jail if you didn't have the money to pay off the cops.

One night, Lucy stopped by the club that had suddenly got so popular, thinking it was entirely legitimate, and it led to that fateful first encounter between her and Marceau.

Marceau didn't think he'd be staying in St. Valens long, even if he was trying to take advantage of the place for as long as possible, but Lucy was invested in the city, as it was her hometown. She was friendly and outgoing, and she knew a lot of people there. She grew up with them.

Lucy had a good sense for business, which places would be good to snap up for a song. She knew about the issues with many local gangs and how they intimidated local businesses into giving them a cut of their earnings to not get roughed up. She wanted to stop that sort of thing from happening so that innocent people could live their lives without fear.

Which is why the Blouin family in the present does take care of the citizens of St. Valens and stomp out more unsavory practices like human trafficking. Essentially Lucy wanted justice and went vigilante. (Insert Joker reference/joke here.) When it became clear that not everyone she tried to save was good, well…

That led into her corrupted world view and a more "ends justify the means" approach.

Marceau had been taught to watch his back and stand on his own, not having the best home life. In a sense, Lucy taught him to care more about others, that he could have someone he could trust to watch her back, and he taught her how to not let others take advantage of her and those she cares for.

Really, in the present day, the Blouins own a lot of businesses in a variety of sectors, from entertainment to scientific research to home electronics to weapons manufacturing. They're spread out across not just the SunnyTime LLC brand, but plenty of sub-companies with different names that the average person might not realize is owned by them. The SunnyTime brand has become a known trustworthy across the country and are spreading out slowly internationally.

Well… technically the family business is known internationally, just not in any public circles, and not under any brand name. Marceau alone has committed quite a few international crimes, though no one has been able to pin anything on him publicly. Lucy does a good job of keeping their public facing image squeaky clean, and she won't anyone hurt or take away any of her family.

Now that Jack is in charge, it's his turn to take care of the family and the business. Despite his issues with human touch, both them, and his sunshine, are in good hands.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

#Sunny Day Jack #DachaBo #Aphrodesia #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Mafia AU

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abybweisse · 1 year

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Why I think Undertaker has to be Cedric, revisited

At this point in the series, I'm a bit surprised how many in the fandom not just don't see him as Cedric K. Ros-- but actually rail against the idea.

So, here's a long, somewhat thorough overview of the situational and physical clues that he's Cedric, the father of Vincent and Francis/Frances.

Situational hints

How he cries over the details of Vincent's death. Not just that he died but what became of his remains. I'd cry over my dead son, too, especially if I had the ability to reanimate corpses but his body was destroyed by fire so that I couldn't do that. Let alone the fact his cinematic records were destroyed, so I not only couldn't make a bizarre doll of him, but I couldn't even review his memories to see what happened right before he died. This ties in with what he later says about not wanting to lose any more Phantomhives. But it strongly suggests that whoever set the fire did so specifically to thwart the efforts of a grim reaper. Whoever did that either knew Undertaker was a reaper or was at least following the instructions of someone who knew.

The whole not wanting to lose more Phantomhives thing. Claudia/Cloudia is gone, and so is Vincent. Reanimating real Ciel is the best he can do to not let the older twin go. He tried to destroy Sebastian to release our earl "Ciel" from their demon contract and might try again. Makes you wonder just how many Phantomhives he's really lost already. As well as where others might still be alive. What exactly was his business in France? 🤔

Even his odd comment to our earl (before the attack) that he wasn't sure which twin this was... but that it didn't matter because they were both Phantomhives. Instead of seeing an heir and a spare, he saw them equally. At least he did then. I suspect he now sees our earl as a spare soul... or conversely sees real Ciel as a spare body. I guess both could be true, making them still essentially equal in his eyes. Again, this could be another attempt to save our earl from Sebastian. By putting our earl's soul into the unmarked body of real Ciel, that might void the contract... unless the seal on our earl's eye also somehow affected his soul. 🤔 Anyway. I digress, since that gets into a separate theory discussion.

Standing in to help young Mr. Pitt take a photo of the twins. That's right after telling our earl it doesn't matter which twin he is. Then the other twin and Mr. Pitt arrive, the latter holding a new camera. It's odd that Mr. Pitt would ask a non-relative of the kids (besides a nanny) to help stage the photo, though Pitt is perhaps the non-traditionalist anyway. Undertaker seems like he's shocked to be asked, but he also seems amused. Mr. Pitt likely doesn't even suspect Undertaker is the twins' paternal grandfather, otherwise he might have seen it as a scoop, á la "LOWLY UNDERTAKER IS SIRE TO PROMINENT NOBLE FAMILY" or something equally scandalous. Because undertakers were considered low class citizens. So, Undertaker acts shocked but complies with giddy delight. By asking Undertaker to help stage the photo, he has likely, unwittingly asked a relative of the boys, which would be considered completely appropriate for the time period.

How he treats the Midfords. He recognizes Lizzie's talents and skill with a sword, otherwise he wouldn't have wanted her at Sphere Music Hall as a protector of the lords of the stars, while he kept them and Blavat hidden away. So he probably had Blavat bring her into the cult. Undertaker might see some of himself in Lizzie, but he definitely sees it in Frances/Francis, and I don't just mean physically. Both women fight in a similar manner as he does: highly skillful and graceful. Idk what he thinks of Edward, but I know he got a great laugh from watching the Phantom Five (including Edward) perform onstage. He doesn't interact much, if at all, with Alexis, who isn't a Phantomhive.

What he says to Francis/Frances, as well as how she responds. Again, he hardly acknowledges Alexis' existence, but Undertaker speaks directly with "Lady Phantomhive". That's really important because she's married into the Midford family and hasn't gone by her maiden name in many years. As long as Edward is old plus at least a bit longer, since she strikes me as too proper for a shotgun wedding, even if she weren't a noble. So, he sets her apart from her husband because she was born a Phantomhive. He doesn't want to lose her, either, because she is her mother's daughter. Then, when she nervously states he hasn't changed in roughly four years, he pokes fun at the fact he hasn't changed in a much longer time frame. He says her birth, over 30 years ago, seems like just yesterday. She's sweating bullets, and it's not just his creepy vibes. She knows he means it -- that 30-some-odd years is nothing to him... and that he very specifically recalls her birth. I'm pretty sure she knows he's her father, and she's horribly embarrassed by the fact. Alexis doesn't have a clue about it, and she'd rather keep it that way. But what he says strongly implies that he was present at her birth. Maybe down the hall, like Vincent was when his sons were born, but there... and just as anxious and excited and proud.

How the years for Cedric's birth and death dates are hidden by a speech bubble. Cloudia/Claudia's dates are fully shown because she's a regular human being. Well... a human, anyway. But if Undertaker is Cedric, then the birth and death dates for him would be from when he was a human, before he committed suicide and was sentenced to serve out his punishment as a reaper. That death date could be decades or even centuries before Cloudia/Claudia was even born. Remember that this family tree isn't one prepared by humans; it's part of the dossier that the German reapers have for our earl. The focus is purely biological ancestry, not marriages. Cloudia/Claudia and Cedric don't have to be married to be on this family tree; he is biologically the father of both Vincent and Francis/Frances.

Physical hints

He looks a lot like Francis/Frances and Edward. And Yana-san tweeted years ago that Francis and Edward look like Cedric. Here's a comparison between Edward and Undertaker. Here's one between Francis/Frances and Undertaker.

The place on his right where his hair has a long braid seems to match up with Lizzie's and Francis/Frances' right side locks that tend to stick out. He's got it tucked behind his right ear, but the braid might originate from the same spot. If Lizzie and her mother pushed those locks back, behind their right ears, the placement would be the same as Undertaker's braid.

He has the exact same baby hairs at the nape of his neck as Lizzie and Francis/Frances. They might be a bit shorter, but they are definitely there. Here's an old post about it. Edward possibly does, too, and we could tell if his hair was grown out and pulled up, but his hair is short and a bit shaggy on the nape of his neck, so we can't be sure.

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effortandmore · 1 year

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worth all your while (ch.5) | knj x f!reader

chapter summary: you and namjoon have been going along to get along, but you've yet to really define your relationship. so, when you meet your idol, namjoon gets jealous, and the shit hits the fan. ~jeon jeongguk finally appears in this fic~

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: smut, fluff, angst

au: celebrity

chapter warnings: namjoon is a bit jealous! this leads to: biting, marking, pinching, implied unprotected piv sex, oral (f!receiving) which includes biting, there's some hair pulling (but not like... aggressively), they don't communicate well—surprise!, angst

chapter word count: ~5.8k (total 31.7k)

a/n: hello, idk what to say. apparently this one will hurt. i don't write a lot of angst cos of that, so here we are. thanks to my friend, @ugh-yoongi for looking this over, you're the jin to my namjoon!

previous chapter | next chapter | read on ao3

In your new normal, a few months into your situation with Namjoon, you spend long hours on your laptop writing articles from the couch in his studio. Work has been nonstop crazy for him in the weeks since you got back from your weekend away, and after not seeing each other for ten days, this was the solution you came up with.

(You missed him those ten days—missed him enough that it was a little bit embarrassing, that you became a little unbearable. It all sort of came to a head when you snapped at Jimin during a pointless argument about the drama you were both watching. He looked at you like you’d kicked a puppy and Taehyung muttered something about taking matters into his own hands as he walked Jimin down the hall, leaving you to stew in your own embarrassment and annoyance.

About fifteen minutes later, you got a call from Namjoon, and he was using his deepest tone—the one he saves for when he either wants something, is just waking up, or is a little drunk—”Baby, can you come by the studio? I miss you…” he’d said.

“Did Tae call you?” You’re a lot of things, but not oblivious.

“...Maybe.”

You huffed, indignant. “I’m just having a bad day,” you explained.

“Me too. But I think it would get better if I could see you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning for the first time in days. It didn’t take any more convincing than that, and you’d gotten dressed, packed up a small bag of essentials, and headed out to see him. It helped the weird, anxious tension you’d been feeling, so you just kept going there.)

And while it’s not much, being in the same room while you work is nice. And if it’s all you can get of his time, you’ll take it. The perks are that you get to have lunch together, you get to spend some time with Yoongi and Hoseok—both of whom you like very much—and you get to meet some of the people Namjoon produces for, including your favorite singer, Jeon Jeongguk.

“Is he coming today?” you ask Namjoon, excitement not even concealed a little bit as you throw yourself on the couch.

“Hmm?”

“Jeongguk-ssi. Is he coming?”

Namjoon swivels around to face you, one eyebrow raised. “I think he is, yeah. That exciting for you?”

You nod furiously, not even trying to suppress your enthusiasm. “He’s so nice,” you say, and it almost comes out less dreamy than you feel. You’ve met him once before and he is nice, and unbelievably pretty, and you never even thought you’d get a ticket to one of his concerts, let alone watch him sing into a microphone in the small recording area of Namjoon’s studio. It’s surreal. You’re starstruck by him in a way you aren’t usually by the people you meet in your line of work. It’s a little annoying—you don’t like feeling that way, but Jeongguk is… well, he’s special and he knows it, but he’s still seemingly really humble about it. You feel like a fangirl.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” Namjoon says curiously. “You talk to famous people all the time.”

“But he’s…” You just sigh, unable to find the word you were looking for.

Namjoon laughs. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I wish you got all starry-eyed like that about me, though.”

It’s absurd, you think, because you feel so much differently about Namjoon. You’re not intimidated by him, you just respect him. And you know him better than you know almost anyone else, which changes things. You may not be starry-eyed for him at every opportunity anymore, but what you are is so much more than that. You love him. He has to know that.

“Maybe you should get some tattoos like Jeongguk,” you tease. “They’d look good on you.” It comes out before you can stop yourself. For a second, you regret it, you think maybe you should have said something sincere about how much you care for him. But he knows. He definitely has to know.

“Hmm… Maybe,” he hums, turning back to his screens. “Maybe I should get your name right on my asscheek.”

“Forget I said anything,” you deadpan. And you hear him laugh one more time before you both slip your headphones on and get to work.

Jeongguk comes by a couple of hours later, as gorgeous and quiet and polite as ever, and you try try try to be cool about it, but you’re barely containing your excitement. Or not containing it, maybe, judging by the way Namjoon has rolled his eyes at you a half dozen times since the singer showed up.

When they’re done working, Jeongguk and Namjoon pull their headphones off and start chatting—Jeongguk takes the chair opposite you and Namjoon sits next to you on the sofa. You cringe when he puts his bare feet on the coffee table—it’s his, but it had to have cost more than several months of your rent. And sometimes you eat off of it. So… you know.

You tune back into the conversation just as Namjoon says, “... an autograph?”

And your head shoots up from where you’d been staring at his feet, your eyes wider than wide.

It makes Jeongguk blush and his teeth burst out of his smile. “Of course, hyung. You don’t have to ask.”

“Yes, he does,” you say enthusiastically. They both turn to you, and you feel a little on the spot, a little nervous. “I mean… It would mean a lot to me, and he knows that. So, it’s…” You trail off, not even sure what you’d planned to say. You’d mentioned in passing to Namjoon that you’d basically kill to get Jeongguk’s autograph, but he seemed to think you were just being ridiculous, that there was no reason to need it when you’d already met the singer. You weren’t sure he would even ask—you definitely didn’t think he would ask in front of you.

But, he did, so you swallow your dignity and pull your copy of Jeongguk’s most recent album out of your bag and hand it to him with a marker. Of course you’re prepared. Of course you watch Jeongguk sign it with a beaming smile on your face. Namjoon lifts an eyebrow and you see him clench his jaw, staring at nothing in particular. It’s not a look you see him give too often, and you haven’t had it directed at you before—it’s hard to tell if it’s for you now, but there’s no one else around. Sure, he’d teased you about this, but there’s no way he’s actually bothered… you hope. It makes you feel nervous in a different way… an almost unpleasant one.

Later, after Jeongguk is gone and your newly signed album is tucked away back safely in your bag after an embarrassingly high number of thank yous, you and Namjoon both work. The air is thick, a little tense, and you’re pretty sure it’s not only in your head. He’s always quiet when he’s working, always focused, but tonight he’s quieter than usual. Everything you say to him is met with one or two word responses and he barely makes eye contact. It’s after midnight by the time his manager peeks in to see if you’ll be leaving soon, and you nod affirmatively while Namjoon just waves him off without even turning around.

You have to come stand next to him to get his attention. “I think I’m done for the day,” you tell him, trying to stifle a yawn as you stretch your arms overhead.

“Fine. See you at home?”

And what a funny question, because he definitely seems irritated, but also expects you to be at his apartment when he gets home? You don’t even live there; it’s not your home no matter how many nights you spend there each week. “You want me to stay over?” you ask, trying to get a better read on the situation.

“Sure, why not? Someplace else you need to be?”

Now, you’re the one raising a brow. He’s being weird. It all seems fine on the surface, maybe to someone who doesn’t know how you usually are with each other. He’s tense and short and his tone is clipped and he’s not looking at you and you sort of hate it.

Fuck it. Might as well just ask. “Is everything okay?”

He finally looks up at you, swiveling his chair around so he can face you, and you know the answer to your question is no before he even says anything. Mentally, you brace yourself a little for what he might say. But then he doesn’t say anything for a while, just looks at you, eyes tracing your face, down your body and back up before he lets out a long breath. He does that thing, the one where he tugs at his own neck, long fingers pushing into the flesh there like he can physically push the stress and tension out of his muscles if he tries hard enough.

Then he’s reaching out to you, hands landing on your hips and pulling you forward between his knees. With one hand, his thumb digs into your hip bone almost too hard, and the other pushes your shirt up so he can press his lips into the skin across your ribs, the soft swell of your stomach, the tops of your hips. “Mine,” he says into your skin—you think that’s what he’s saying anyway, because you barely hear it, could almost be in your imagination, the soft sound muffled by your own body.

You lift your hands and run your fingers through his hair, brushing it back the way he likes with the soft strokes he always says are his favorite, but this time, he pulls you down by your elbows until your foreheads are pressed together. Just like his thumb in your hip before, his grip on your arms is almost too tight, almost crossing the line into painful, but the look on his face is soft like a plea before his lips touch yours.

“Mine,” he says again, and this time it’s unmistakable, urgent and possessive before his tongue slides into your mouth, licking like a claim more than a promise.

While you kiss (if that’s what this even is… it feels more like a branding—hot and a little angry on your lips and tongue) you lower yourself into his lap. You both don’t really fit in his chair, but it just forces you to be pressed in close against him, thighs tight around his.

Something strange is happening, it’s so close to being the way it always is between you, but everything is just slightly off-kilter. He’s pulling your head back by your hair to give him access to your neck, and it’s not kind; not sweet. He starts to bite along your pulse point, your throat, little nibbles harder than usual and he’s surely leaving marks as he goes.

Underneath you, you feel him getting hard in his joggers, you hear his breath starting to come heavier and faster, you see his cheeks flush, but they’re not dimpled with the smirk he usually sports while you’re in this position.

“Joonie,” you whisper, “what’s going on?”

“Doesn’t it feel good?” he asks in return, his fingers traveling under your shirt, under your bra so he can pinch and twist more than softly at one of your nipples. You moan without even meaning to, because of course it feels good, of course he knows exactly how to touch you even when he’s doing all of it a little too hard. “Sounds like it feels good. Sounds like you like it, baby. Want me to mark you up?” He’s starting to ramble now, a little desperate, leaving more marks on your collarbone, your neck, as you grind down into his lap.

“Feels good, Joon. Always feels the best with you.”

It’s the first time all night you think you’ve said the right thing. You can almost feel him relax under you a little, but only a little. He’s still got a different kind of urgency written on his face, he’s still hard under you, and he’s still making marks on all your skin he can reach with his lips, still pinching and twisting at patches of skin under your shirt.

“Gonna fuck you,” he whispers, moving you off his lap and following you up. It’s different because usually he asks. Usually, he lets you make the calls, lets you decide the when and the where and the pace and the pressure. That’s what’s off—this is all him without asking. You know he’d stop if you told him to, and you don’t want him to stop, but you do wonder why things are different this time.

He pulls you across the room near the couch, the one you sat on just hours earlier, getting an autograph from his friend. It clicks for you then, what’s gotten into him, or what you think has, anyway.

Standing there, you watch him unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs, and he’s focused, focused, focused, quiet and intense, his hands steady and a corner of his lip tucked under his teeth as he strips you.

You don’t ask then, you wait until you’re on your knees on the couch, until you’re both naked, until he’s behind you and licking into your core with his fingers kneading at the tops of your thighs, spreading you open.

This too, is different.

Normally he takes his time with you, likes to tease you with his tongue, with his fingers. Likes to press kisses to your clit that don’t do anything except make you smile and wiggle around under him, likes to lick you open and then slide one or two long fingers in you and talk to you about how wet you are, how good you feel, how you taste like ripe fruit or syrup or something ridiculous.

He likes to get you begging, likes you to want him so much he can see it in the way your muscles twitch. Likes it when you set the rules and then hand over the control to him.

Not tonight.

It’s all purposeful strokes with his tongue, it’s him pulling and twisting the flesh of your thighs, it’s silence and no sweet murmurings to make you melt. It’s fast and a little rough and it’s making your head spin when he licks and sucks and even bites a little right on your clit. It’s good, he’s always good, always knows how to make you come… But it’s different.

So, it’s the wrong time (or the right time) and you don’t really know why you finally say it as a response when he says, “Mine,” again before sucking your clit between his lips one last time and drawing out your first orgasm.

“Are you jealous, Joonie?” you ask between labored breaths, “You think I want to fuck your friend?”

Behind you, where he had been still nestled between your legs, he comes to a halt, tongue and fingers and breathing all stilled for a moment. Then a quiet, “Yeah…” The word long on his lips and the air behind it floating like a whisper across your core.

“I’m yours, though,” you say, turning your head to try and catch a glimpse of his face over your shoulder. “All yours.”

That earns you his hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you down so your weight falls on your forearms in front of him, ass up and your face pressed into the sofa so that you can’t keep trying to watch him with your neck turned back.

You’re still cum-slick and sensitive—you know he can tell by the way you let out an involuntary shiver when he drags the tip of his cock along your clit.

“He wouldn’t be enough for you,” Namjoon says quietly, so serious. “You’re mine, baby. Gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

It’s not quite angry anymore, he’s no longer gripping too roughly or biting your skin—feels like he’s finally just about present, like he’s finally with you instead of just next to you. He’s teasing his cock at your entrance now, and you push back against him. “Yes, yours… Only for you. Please, Joon.” It’s a little needier than you meant, a little more desperate than you deserve, having already come once. But he’s a tease, and he’s so so hard, and it’s making you a little crazy that he wants you for himself like this, that you can make him go a little wild in this way. You’ve never seen him possessive like he was today. Maybe it shouldn’t turn you on, but calling you his, trying to claim you, it’s the closest thing he’s said to, “I love you.” He makes you a greedy, desperate thing, and you’ll take what you can get. You’ll take this from him if it means even close to what you want it to mean.

Once more, he wraps some of your hair around his hand and pulls. You groan as your head tilts up and your back arches under the pressure. It’s not hard, it doesn’t hurt, but it still carries that same frantic feeling as he has since this started. “What do you need?”

“You to fuck me… Need your cock, Joonie… Please…”

And he’s always giving you what you say you need. It’s nobody’s fault but your own if you lie.

So, he thrusts into you and uses his grip on your hair to pull you onto him at the same time. It’s so fucking deep, and he feels as heavy and thick as ever inside you as you whimper in time with his thrusts. He’s been hard for what seems like an eternity, so you know it must be as much relief at this point as it is pleasure for him.

“Want to make it last now,” he says, slowing his movements, being more prescribed, more precise with where he hits inside of you. His hand loosens around your hair, and your head falls down—you’re starting to tire now as you’re teetering on the edge of your second orgasm, about at the most you can take, because while he’s slowed, he’s still deep inside you and it’s so so much. Must be for him, too, because he’s still not talking as much as usual, just letting out short moans mixed with your name and broken, skipping record sentences all beginning or ending with “Mine.”

As he fucks you, he slides his hands under your front and pulls you up tight against him. You’re essentially sitting in his lap now, and it’s usually one of your favorite ways to fuck because it gets him so close to you. His hands on your breasts, his face buried in your neck. When you’re like this, when he’s all you can smell, all you can taste, all you can feel—it’s heaven. It’s all of your best fantasies come to life. And this still feels like a fantasy, like a dream, because it’s standing on the boundary of the familiar, because everything has fluffy, blurry edges and seems right and not right with him all at the same time.

He turns your head to face him and cranes his own to meet you halfway. Your kiss is softer than you’ve been behaving—it’s tender and slow and you want to make a home in his mouth where it’s sweet and safe and his syrupy sappy words are supposed to come from. You tease him about being cheesy sometimes, but you like it; you like it better than today when he was upset even though it led to this. But now this finally feels almost right, this finally feels almost like you and Namjoon again.

“Joon, I—”

And you’ve done this a million times, so he cuts you off with another kiss. He knows you’re his now (you hope this is the convincing he needed, anyway) and he knows what you need from him. He brings his fingers to your clit and strokes you there, gentle and steady like your kiss. It’s your way of talking, it’s his way of telling you everything you mean to him and everything he wants to be for you. He probably knows it’s not enough, not forever anyway, and that could be why it feels like a promise and an apology at the same time. You think maybe in spite of all the words that must be floating around his big brain, that this is all he knows how to give, so he gives it everything.

Under his hand and while he’s buried deep inside of you, you come for the second time. It’s quiet—no noise in the fluttering of your walls around him and the way your eyes fall shut—the second time is pain and pleasure combined, and he’s told you before he sometimes wonders if it’s too much when they happen in close succession like this.

It’s only seconds until he comes too, squeezing every muscle in and around you. It’s all-consuming—he always is.

You lift yourself off of his lap when he’s stopped pulsing inside you, and let yourself spread out on the sofa under him, offering him a hand to do the same, half next to you and half on top of you. He’s heavy and warm and solid, and he’s the physical manifestation of the biggest love you’ve ever felt. You still don’t know what happened, why he got so worked up, not really, but before you fall asleep, you hear the quiet, “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers into your hair. You don’t really know if you should have said it first.

It’s close to sunrise when you and Namjoon make your way back to his apartment. You’d slept uncomfortably on the sofa of his studio for a couple hours, cleaned yourselves up in relative silence and then called for a car. Between you, things don’t feel quite right. He looks sheepish, you feel embarrassed. It’s not quite bad enough to be uncomfortable, but it’s close. When you tumble through his front door and kick your shoes off, he pulls you into a tight hug. You sigh in tandem and you hope it lets the weird feelings out. It’s the kind of thing you should talk about, but you don’t know how to start the conversation. So, you don’t. Namjoon doesn’t either.

It’s probably a mistake.

It feels like a mistake when you wake up early in the afternoon and he’s not in bed with you. It feels like a mistake when you get ready for work alone, and the sound of Namjoon murmuring on the phone in his office across the apartment is the only company you have. It feels like a mistake when you ask if he wants to ride together to the museum party you’re both attending, and he says you probably shouldn’t, that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Feels like a mistake when you both deposit the rings you’d bought for your 200 days into the small dish by his door (never in public, you know you never wear them in public… and still—a big gesture reduced to something secret feels like a mistake sometimes. Feels like you’re betraying yourselves somehow).

It feels the most like a mistake when Tae texts you to tell you he’s waiting in the car outside and Namjoon kisses your cheek in goodbye instead of your lips.

Taehyung, to his credit, leaves you alone on the drive after he realizes something is wrong. He doesn’t bother you about what’s bothering you, instead catching you up on things you’d missed around your own apartment in the last couple weeks. Jimin’s been busy, picking up a couple of more advanced classes, but Tae says he likes the challenge, likes the students. It’s good—Jimin works hard, deserves good things. The stories are enough to distract you from your own potential problems until you get to the event.

It’s never fun to go into things like this in a bad mood. Makes it hard to focus on your job, makes it hard to enjoy things you normally would. This should be easy, but it’s a big party. The yearly member/donor party for the museum is complete with celebrity appearances (including Namjoon) on a red carpet, a silent auction on rare prints and originals, and an expensive plated dinner you’re usually excited about eating with your boss and Taehyung by your side. This year though, it’s different. None of the prints for auction seem as special, the food doesn’t taste as good, it’s not even much fun to make fun of the stupid shit famous people wear because some designer said they should.

You’re sulking and you know it.

The weird thing with Namjoon turned into a sour mood for you, and it’s been made worse watching him flash his dimpled grin to models and singers and artists across the room. You hadn’t been on the receiving end of it all day (or the night before), and it’s throwing you off. Seems like a gift he can give so easily, like something you’re missing out on.

An ugly pit that feels like resentment starts to settle in your gut where your food should be. Instead of eating or talking or having a good time, you sulk more; you push the food around on your plate, and you try not to watch him in an obvious way.

Taehyung solidifies his status as one of your best friends when he smoothly talks around the idea of you grabbing Namjoon for an interview even though your boss suggested it. Tae is the best because you haven’t even talked about it, but he knows something isn’t right. He knows on instinct that you shouldn’t be trusted with that job tonight. The last thing you need is to have to interview Namjoon when things are already weird with you. You’d probably pull it off just fine under usual circumstances, probably be able to control your face when you think about all the times you’ve seen each other naked, all the times you’ve pressed laughing kisses to his lips and his dimples, all the times you’ve tripped and stumbled and fallen further further further for him.

But not like this. Not with the questions you didn’t ask (and can’t right now) hanging between you, not with your brain fixated on the way he pulled your hair and bruised your neck enough that you’re wearing your least favorite turtleneck dress.

All you want him to tell you is why, all you want to tell him is that you love him so much that why doesn’t actually matter. None of it matters and you wish he knew and you wish you’d said that. But you can’t say that in an interview, can’t tell him that all you need is for him to love you and to say it so you can safely say it back. You need him to be brave, to make you feel brave in turn. You can’t print that, though.

The problem with you not pulling him for a few questions is that someone has to. You can’t be an art magazine and not talk to him here. So, if it’s not you, it will be someone. Someone who won’t be as gentle with their questions, someone who won’t know what to ask about his collection, what he’s passionate about right now. You know you could do the job best, if only you could ask the professional questions, if only you could get him to look you in the eye.

You’re about to change your mind, about to tell Tae you can do it when you see your boss and your asshole, book-writing colleague approach Namjoon. There’s no way it’s going to go well—you know Namjoon doesn’t like him. It had basically been the first thing you’d ever talked to him about.

That knowledge in mind, you can’t stop yourself from getting a little closer to where they are. It doesn’t make sense, it’s not like you can or would intervene if your co-worker asks something weird. Not like Namjoon needs you to protect him. But you know your colleague. You know why Namjoon doesn’t like him. You know he treats celebrities like commodities, their private lives to be bought and sold. You know he’ll directly ask Namjoon about his personal life, and if Namjoon doesn’t answer, he’ll look for the answer elsewhere. It’s why he’s successful—there’s a never-ending parade of people willing to trade in peoples’ secrets.

Someone’s always willing to be bought. People are always willing to consume rumors paraded as facts.

You linger close enough to hear, but not close enough that your boss realizes you followed. Tae tugs at your arm, hisses, “What’re you doing?” in your ear so only you can hear. But he knows. So, before he even waits for a response, he adds, under his breath, “Just don’t let her see you.” He’s right, you don’t know how you’d explain to your boss that you were eavesdropping instead of doing your actual job.

The first couple questions are the right kind: “Anything you want to bid on tonight?” And, “You’ve seen the upcoming exhibitions for the year, which are you most excited about? Why?” And then you hear the next question, “Who’s your plus one tonight?”

Namjoon, even though you can’t quite hear him, seems to brush it off. Says something about just spending the evening among friends. It’s the right answer, the one he’s given a million times, the one that’s actually true as far as you know. Your colleague seems unimpressed, seems like he wants more. He presses into the subject as you press closer to them. “Come on, there are rumors you’ve been spotted out with someone recently.”

That’s true, too. Namjoon’s management has a policy of ignoring them, but they’re out there. LIttle snippets on social media, people saying they’d seen him leaving restaurants with someone, seen him in the back of a car, but not alone. They’re probably true. You’ve been careful—no one’s mentioned you, no one has pictures, but you’ve also been out a lot. He’s told you he’s getting older, he’s not an idol, he doesn’t care if people know he’s dating. He’s an adult, he’ll do what he wants. You mean too much to him to stay tucked away in his apartment or his studio… He’s said all those things and you’ve gone on living your lives, and someone’s probably seen you doing it.

Sometimes, to your colleague’s fortune, rumors are facts.

“I don’t pay much attention to rumors,” Namjoon says in response. That’s true, too. He’s good at this, the deflection that’s also honest. He’s not often accused of being untruthful and there’s a reason for that.

“Well, just for the record, we’d love to know who you’re dating. If there’s anyone special…” Your boss adds that one on. It’s far more direct than your colleague would normally be. She doesn’t like feeling manipulative, she’d rather just ask the straightforward question and hope to get a straightforward answer. She won’t get it, you think.

Then Namjoon spots you watching, eyes you over the rim of his glasses as you take a drink from your champagne flute. At every other event, this is when he smiles at you, small and private, the kind of smile that makes him look his age with the deep lines of a practiced movement forming around his mouth. You smile first—it’s almost Pavlovian. You’re anticipating his move.

But you’re wrong this time. He doesn’t smile back. He swallows and smooths his tie and looks back to your boss and gives her the straightforward answer she wanted; the one you absolutely weren’t expecting.

“No, not dating anyone seriously. There’s no one special.”

It feels like a mistake. All of it.

You don’t move, not a muscle. Your champagne flute hangs in mid air, your eyes are stuck on him. Behind you, Taehyung is saying something whispered and frantic, but you don’t even really hear him, just pieces of it. “...what he has to say… Not a big deal… reading too much into it.”

The sentences finish themselves, and part of you knows he’s right. Namjoon probably does have to say something like that, it probably isn’t a big deal, you probably are reading too much into it. And you’d believe him, believe yourself, if things hadn’t already felt wrong, if he’d just smiled back at you. All he had to do was smile back.

“I think I should go,” you say, voice low and talking to no one in particular.

“Okay, yeah. Let’s get you home,” Taehyung says, and he grabs your elbow, right where Namjoon had the night before but in a softer, kinder way. As he starts to walk, he guides you, and you indulge yourself, let yourself keep your eyes locked on Namjoon, the person you love, the person who might not love you. The person who was jealous when you wanted an autograph from his friend, but who won’t hold your hand on the sidewalk. The person who raps and writes and says words words words but never really talks to you. Never tells you the one thing you need to hear. The person who says so much and so little at the same time. You watch him and it’s like you’re willing him to look back, to see you.

But he doesn’t. He fidgets and messes with his cufflinks and you know he knows you heard him, you know he saw you there, and he can’t even bring himself to give you a non-verbal denial or confirmation of what he said.

It feels like a mistake.

It feels like heartbreak.

Feels like shattering into a million petal pieces and no amount of gilded glue will be able to piece you back together into something as pretty as you were before.

Namjoon texts you that night—a string of messages that you don’t read come after you’ve cried into Jimin’s chest on your couch, after Tae has wrapped himself around you in your bed and let you tell him every secret thing you love about Kim Namjoon as you sob and mourn something you’re not sure was ever really yours.

Namjoon calls and you don’t answer. Calls you again while Tae sweetly suggests you could just give him a chance. That it didn’t mean anything. That you know Yoongi says it all that time, too, and you’ve met his partner. That maybe you don’t have to take it so personally.

You fall asleep with Tae’s arm around you, pulling you close, and your tears drying on your cheeks.

You wake up to a new message from Namjoon. “Please don’t push me away, baby,” it says.

A long time passes while you stare at the message. A million thoughts run through your head of what you should or shouldn’t do, of how upset you have the right (or not) to be. But the one thought you can’t kick is wondering how hard you can really be pushing someone away if they were already pulling back.

#namjoon fic #bts fanfic #rm fanfic #kvanity #btshoneyhive #btswritersclub #namjoon smut #bts smut #rm smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon angst #bts angst #rm imagine #rm angst

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halfadoginatank · 5 months

Text

Simon and his father take a trip to the Scottish highlands for the summer, he knows only one of them will leave.

Johnny is a boy obsessed with filming explosions from fireworks he's not supposed to have.

Los Vaqueros are a group of Mexican teens derailed from their field trip waiting for teachers that might not come back.

Huge lore and plot dump below.

Mild tw for Simons father

Simons father has always taken him on hunting trips, sometimes he hated them, some times he liked them. But he'd never taken him this far from manchester. There are weapons in the cabin they rent, his father is eerily sober, one of them is going to die out here. Simon can only hope that Tommy won't be next.

Johnny meets him when he strays too far from his father. Part of it on purpose, he would never be on equal footing, more so when his father had the rifle and not him. He's in the tree's, at first simon thinks its prey, but there's a camera lense staring right at his scope.

Los Vaqueros come later, the leader arguing with a girl with choppy hair, Valeria and Alejandro trade glares while Rodolfo tries to mediate. Their bus broke down, leaving them stuck in town desperately renting a cabin near but far from the one simon is in.

It's the most interesting thing thats happened to johnny, and in the makeshift bonfire Valeria corners him and Simon. Her gaze is snakelike and a ring clinks on the bottle she's holding

"You say that he's an asshole yes? Your padre. Mine was the same, en mi opinión? It is kill or be killed."

Valeria nods at Alejandro, she tells them of a faceless force where she's from. The person sponsoring the trip for them, 'good will'. The five of them band together, the rest of the Vaqueros utterly ignorant.

Simon will save his family, Alejandro will get them home, and johnny? He's going to make the best home video.

Yeah so thats the whole plot, originally it was just going to be ghoap but somehow the Vaqueros fell into place. It kind of made more sense to have Valeria give them the idea? She doesnt have a whole bunch of canon lore so I figured she'd have an in with the cartel via her father, who was awful. And when Valeria killed him the nameless helped her cover it up and she got her own little spot.

Alejandro broke off their relationship after that, it's why they're on bad terms. He formed the Vaqueros as a funny joke that he started to take seriously when kids around Las Almas genuinely needed help that wasnt someway connected to the cartel, adults had that with rudys mother, so Ale and his childhood friend Rudy decided to help people their age in a way that doesn't rely on adults too much.

Everyone here is about 16-18. Soap is 17, ghost is as well but a few months older. Rudy Alejandro and Valeria are 18. And the youngest cowboy is 16.

Im trying to fit Gaz and Alex in? Im thinking that they both live in Texas, Gazs parents had a falling out since mum was from Texas hes there. Their school is on the same trip in the same bus a sort of cross trip to help the shitty american public school get a better name, as well as the cartels big PR move with having a class from one of Las Almas' schools.

Johnny is a bit weird here, but his motivation is he's suffering from extreme middle kid issues. Loves his family but since he's almost invisible is able to just kinda run off as long as hes back home eventually. He has a camera he uses to film any of his mishaps with, its essentially just jackass. As well as a video diary. Dont be fooled, its also an excuse for me to write some of it in script like format.

Simon is almost exactly the same as he is in the 09 comics, obviously a bit different. But childhood is the same.

I wanted farah to be here so bad but her childhood is literally a warzone and theres no way I can get her and her brother in Scotland. Because im trying so hard to make this somewhat believable, like yes its is a summer mystery horror au. But god I just really need things to make a little sense otherwise I cant do it. Same with Price Nik and Laswell. Like I could group Laswell in with Alex and gaz, and maybe I could pair her with Valeria for funsies. However Nikolai is in russia so... oopsie, and price? Like... how do you turn price into a teenager, he'd be what 19 or 20? Theres no reason he'd be in school, I dont think he'd be held back.

Also you may wonder, why is graves not here? Uh.... because I dont care, he wouldn't have a place here. The antagonist is Simons father, and honestly man? I just dont care that much for his character.

Man theres... theres so much I have here dude, I want to throw roach in there, and I THINK I could squeeze him in as one of ghosts school mates but the point is the first act has Simon completely isolated.

Anyway thats it. Bye.

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brain-detritus · 1 year

Text

Took Him Long Enough

Tech x reader

Tech is alone for the evening so he decides to run out and explore the underground marketplace on Ord Mantel. Due to an unfortunate accident, he’s been exposed to some ~mood altering substances~ and finds himself getting a little too hot under his armor. He’ll be fine if he can just make it home, where he’ll be alone, right? Yes, this is just another shameless flavor of sex pollen fic for the sluts. (It’s me, I’m the sluts)

NSFW, 18+ only

Warnings: rough sex, face fucking, dubcon if you’re REALLLLY squinting

Notes: ok so this is my first attempt at writing this kinda thing. My first fanfic actually so I’m super happy to receive any constructive criticism or notes on what you liked/disliked as far as style goes. A little bit of background- I always thought it seemed kinda uncomfortable for them to live on the marauder so I imagine that there’s an apartment above Cid’s that she rents out to them.

He actually made it back- his condition is worsening with each passing second. His goggles begin to fog up as he stumbles into the stairwell at Cid’s, giving her an awkward wave and a strained smile, trying not to look suspicious. The most he gets is an eye roll, a promising sign.

He all but trips over himself as he finally passes the threshold into their apartment. He was grateful the rest of you had left to run some errands for Cid- allowing him some privacy.

If only he had gone with you, he would be in a lot better shape than he is currently.

Truthfully he was working on a project before this. He had ventured out into the marketplace hopeful to find an essential part to repair Omega’s holopad. He had excitedly given it to her as a gift once he had saved up enough. Inevitably the thing met its doom at the hands of Wrecker. He hoped to surprise her when everyone got back.

It was a simple fix, but he couldn’t help himself from wandering into adjacent shops when something uncommon piqued his interest. He actually can’t quite remember what he was doing when he was exposed, all he had were blurred memories of broken glass jars and panicked apologies. His head was already spinning as the shop owner urged him to leave and seek medical attention for the overdose, clearly not wanting authorities catching wind of his side business.

Tech didn’t need a doctor, he needed to get home.

He briskly weaves through the crowded streets. He does his best to appear unbothered even as he was painfully aware of the growing discomfort behind his codpiece.He brings his fist up to his teeth to stifle any whines threatening to escape, the other still clinging tightly to that damned part for the holopad.

He feels a small pang of shame as he finds his thoughts drifting to you: your soft lips, the curve of your hips and the warmth between your thighs.

He fantasized about how the evening would have gone had you stayed behind. All the lonely nights he spent pining for you in his bunk or from his seat in the cockpit could not match the searing desire for you he felt now.

A crushing feeling of shame shook him out of his fantasy. You were his friend, it was indecent for him to think of you this way. Not only that, he felt it was embarrassingly hopeful. Despite the many less-than-subtle attempts by his brothers to get you two alone, he simply could not find the nerve to make a move.

Just the thought made him choke as he ducks into the next alleyway, shaking his head. He has enough to worry about right now, you were out and he could easily take care of himself. He just has to make it home…

He drops to his knees in the entryway. His limbs tremble beneath him as he struggles to catch his breath. He groans through his teeth as he notices just how hot the skin beneath his armor was. Wasting no time, he begins to strip off his clothes, pulling his right glove off with his teeth as his left hand fumbles to remove his belt. He utters a groan of relief once he is down to nothing but his pants and his boots. Finally alone.

Until he hears someone calling him from across the apartment. He freezes with hand at his waistband when he hears your voice.

He is mortified, sure you had left with the others. It was simply impossible to face you like this. What would you think if you wandered out into the hall to discover him on the ground, half-naked and…excited. What could he possibly say to explain himself?

“Tech, you better say something if it’s you or i'm coming out here swinging!”

He clasps his hand over his mouth to stifle a groan. Your footsteps grow louder as he frantically weighs the pros and cons of making a quick escape, only to find the decision has been taken out of his hands.

You’re standing over him and he hesitantly glances up at you. His eyes rake hungrily over your body. The exposed skin of your thighs, the way your shorts hug your hips, your arms folded beneath your breasts and your sweet smile. You looked so happy to see him.

“Fuck”

It’s all he can manage when he finally meets your gaze. Your face softens with concern. Something was definitely off.

“A little less eloquent than usual, Tech” You teased, crouching in front of him. “What happened to your clothes?”

It was so hard to keep his composure. He really liked the way his name sounded when you said it. “I thought you would be out with the others…why are you here?

You cock an eyebrow as you look him over

“Because I live here; and I was waiting for you.”

You gesture vaguely to the living space behind you a considerable amount of tools and equipment were beginning to pile up.

“We have a lot of unfinished projects just waiting for me to trip over.”

Truthfully you stayed behind to get some time alone with Tech. You often suggested improvements to equipment or to the marauder so you could get him to yourself. You’re pretty sure he likes having you around but you’re not quite sure how much deeper that goes. Even if he wasn’t interested in you romantically it was still nice spending time as a friend.

He sits back on his heels to adjust his goggles and catch his breath.

“This is humiliating to admit but- from my understanding I’ve been inadvertently exposed to some kind of illegal substance.” shuts his eyes tightly in concentration before continuing. “I believe it’s commonly used as a party drug…in much smaller doses.”

He manages to choke out enough details for you to piece together what might have happened, blushing once you get a thorough visual of the side effects.

He assumed you would be disgusted. He could see no other outcome than this forever damaging your relationship after seeing him this way. He fully expected you to walk out the door, disgusted, as he internally mourned the future he had pictured with you.

Instead you’re just concerned. You move closer to him, pushing aside any awkwardness to check his vitals.You need to make sure he’s safe. You gently place the back of your hand against his glistening forehead, doing your best to ignore the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Tech, I’m so sorry. ”

His breath catches in his throat as you set your fingertips against his pulse. You could feel the muscles in his neck tensing up at your touch.

“Physically you’re going to be fine”

You offer a lighthearted smile, hoping to alleviate some of the embarrassment. You didn’t quite feel bold enough to offer him ‘help’, but you had to admit that the way he was looking at you was more than enough to tempt you.

“If it makes you feel better, you aren’t the first person I’ve seen like this. It’s actually pretty easy to overdo it with this stuff- not that you really had a choice”

Tech was speechless for the first time that he can remember. What could he possibly say to you in this moment? He absolutely could not share with you any of the thoughts running through his mind.

He wills himself to move, to speak, to do anything but sit there helplessly. He finds himself raising his left hand to meet yours, still pressed against his neck. The other finds its place below your chin, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips.

Your eyes widen in surprise at the bold gesture. His thumb stills and the hazy smile leaves his eyes when he realizes what he’s doing.

“Sorry” He flashes an apologetic look but makes no attempt to separate from you.

“This is not like me, I promise I’m not some kind of deviant-”

“I know you aren’t” You cut him off as you move to take his hands in your own. “Here, get up. Maybe we should get you into your bed…you could sleep it off?” You stand and pull him to his feet, hoping to restore some dignity to the sweaty, shirtless, mess of a man before you.

You give him a moment to steady himself; his muscles faintly soften as you absentmindedly stroke his palm. Maybe this was what he needed? Any physical touch seemed to be providing a degree of relief.

“Does this help?” your voice is gentle as you try to ignore the fluttery feeling in your stomach. You took note of how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. They were calloused and scarred from his work yet still had a gentleness to them as he held onto you.

“In a way” he answered thoughtfully.

“Though if I can be candid with you it only seems to fan the flames, so to speak.”

Did he mean just the physical touch? Or does he mean you? It’s possible that he's desperately seeking relief and you are the first warm body he’s run into. You push those thoughts aside, re-centering your focus on Tech.

“I could get you a glass of water? Maybe a shower would help”

He paused a moment. His brows knit together as he considered his options.

“Perhaps a shower would help, If you joined me?”

You expect him to laugh, to assure you he was joking, but he does not rescind the offer. His previous hang ups about pursuing you are silenced as his desire reaches a breaking point.

He steps in closer to you and you tilt your head back to look up at him. Has he always been this tall?

His amber gaze scans your features from behind his lenses.

“Unless that’s not your preference?”

He raises his eyebrows, anxiously awaiting your response. He knew it was a longshot but in this moment he felt that there is no other woman he would rather be with.

“Me? Tech, are you sure you know what you’re asking? Maybe I’m misunderstanding-”

“Are the others wrong in their assumptions that you have-” he was sifting through his thoughts for the appropriate words “-romantic feelings for me?”

He tentatively squeezed your hands, hoping he hasn’t crossed a line.

“If so, I'll ask you to forgive me. After my exposure you have completely consumed my thoughts. Although truthfully, this is not much different from any other moment since we’ve met”

Excitement buzzed through your body at his admission. It was all you could do not to pull him close to you and kiss him all over.

“No. They aren't wrong” you admitted, shoulders tensed as you anticipated his next move.

Tech gently lifts your chin to meet his gaze.

“I can ensure the experience to be mutually pleasurable”

His voice is low and sweet as he cups your face.

You’re suddenly aware that he has been slowly walking you toward the lounge area behind you. Matching every step you take until you find yourself stumbling into the couch.

“I apologize for being so direct but I would love nothing more than to have you right here in this moment. If you’ll indulge me?”

He kneels in front of you, slowly sliding his hands up your thighs. His touch is excruciatingly soft. “I’ll do anything, Love. I would do anything you ask”

“I’m begging you, mesh’la” he lays his head in your lap, letting out a contented sigh.

“I need you”

He trails soft kisses from your knee to the hem of your shorts. His fingertips trace the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re absolutely sure? This is what you want?” You confirmed one final time before giving in to your own desires.

“Yes” He breathes “This is what I want. Every single day this is what I want.”

You can’t help but take amusement in his melodramatic performance. It’s certainly over the top, and completely unnecessary as he’s already won you over long before this.

You bend forward, brushing your fingers into his hair as you invite him into a gentle kiss. He eagerly accepts, He brushes his tongue softly across your lips before gently moving past them.

You took a moment to breathe him in. An earthy musk mingles with his feverish sweat. Clearly he had been up early today working on the ship. He moans softly into your mouth, kisses becoming more fervent. His tender touch sends tingles through your body as he explores the bare skin beneath your shirt.

His attention drops to his hands as he hooks his fingers into your waistband. He retreats to look at you for final confirmation before quickly sliding your shorts down your legs.

He watches you squirm as he teases his fingers over your underwear. He slips his fingers beneath the lacy fabric, stamping light kisses on your inner thighs.

“Does that feel good?” He coos, having already found a comfortable rhythm between your lips.

You nod your head in response, digging your fingers into the grainy fabric of the couch.

Satisfied with your answer, he gently slides his hand down to your entrance.

“You are remarkably wet already” He pants, a cheeky smile flashed briefly across his lips.

Tentatively, he slides his middle and ring fingers inside of you, cursing as you clench around his digits. His thumb resumes his pace between your folds as his fingers slide in and out of your core. His cock strains against his pants at the obscene sounds of his fingers between your thighs.

Having collected a considerable amount of your juices on his hand, he reaches into his pants, in desperate need of his own stimulation. He groans as he begins brazenly thrusting into his slick palm.

Even as his need for release rings louder in his ears he holds out long enough to be sure you’re ready for him. He hooks his arm around your thigh and drags you to him, bringing your clothed heat to his mouth. Impatiently he pulls your panties to the side and leans in to taste you.

Under ordinary circumstances he would have gladly spent hours between your thighs, in fact he frequently caught himself daydreaming of just that. His mind would wander to you during any lengthy repairs to the marauder, usually becoming enough of a distraction to warrant a quick break to clear his head.

Tech finally pulls back from you with a groan as the pain from his erection becomes unbearable. He stands and plants his boot next to you on the couch. He extends his arm to steady himself against the wall behind you- still desperately pumping his length.

“Please” He mouths, only to guide your hand toward his discomfort.

“Of course, Tech.” Your mouth waters as you take him into your hands. You begin to slowly work his shaft. A twinge of satisfaction pools in your center as you listen to the string of obscenities drawn out by your touch.

You lean in to slowly lick the length of his shaft before taking him into your mouth. He bucks his hips in response, no longer making an effort to conceal his cries.

“Yes, just like that” his pupils are blown wide as he watches you bob your head up and down, whispering unintelligible praises between breaths. He presses his hips forward, urging you to take him deeper into your throat.

“Fuck, please y/n, I need to feel you”

He begs as he gently slips his hand behind your head to grab a fistful of hair. He holds your head in place as he rhythmically thrusts into the back of your throat. You gag as he quickens his pace, desperately seeking relief by pushing deeper into your throat.

You gasp when he pulls himself out of you, taking a moment to catch your breath.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry- I wasn’t thinking! I just-” He panicks. This is what he was afraid of, he had hurt you. He was sure he would never forgive himself as he watched you wipe at your smeared mascara.

“No, no. I’m fine.” you reassure him as you softly slide your hands up his thighs, resting them at his hips. You looked up at him meekly as you made your request

“I want you to use my mouth, Tech”

Your words elicited a visible shudder from the man, who only hesitated a few moments before repositioning himself at your open mouth. “anything you want, darling”

With your permission, he resumed his roughened pace, being mindful to allow you occasional breaks to catch your breath.

“You look…so...pretty…with my cock in your mouth” he groans between thrusts, his hand planted firmly behind your head as he vehemently chases his release. After a final few, deep thrusts he slowly pulls himself out of your mouth and kneels in front of you.

He searches your features as he brushes your hair out of your face, lightly cradling your head in his hands.

“Still doing alright?” his voice is heavy and his breaths are unsteady, all of his focus is now on you.

Before you answer, you raise your hands to his face, repositioning his goggles that had slid down the bridge of his nose.

“Yes” you begin pleading “Please, Tech. I need you to fuck me”

More than happy to fulfill your request, Tech lowers himself between your thighs and goes to remove your underwear.

“Your shirt” He mutters, fully focused on sliding your panties off to reveal your bottom half. You comply, swiftly removing your top and tossing it behind you.

With your heat sufficiently exposed, he draws his eyes to your chest. You feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he leans in to meet them. A calloused hand greedily cups your breast as he sighs softly into your mouth. He lightly brushes his fingertips over your nipples, making you shiver.

He eases you onto his length, scrutinizing your features as you stretch to accommodate his girth. The scorching heat of your core sends a tremor through his body.

He allows his head to fall back, a hiss escapes through gritted teeth as he slowly bottoms out. You barely have a moment to adjust to him before he really begins rutting into you. Tension visibly dissolves from his body as he finally finds the friction he was aching for.

His pace is relentless, spurred on by your lecherous cries. He holds you firmly in place by your hips, fingers sinking deep into your soft flesh. It’s not long before a fervid sensation creeps behind your skull, causing your walls to clench around him.

Picking up on your body’s signals, he bends forward and cages your head between his arms, purring softly into your ear.

“Go ahead, pretty thing. Cum for me”

His words send shockwaves through your body as you reach the peak of your orgasm. He stays close, holding your shaking thighs and riding out the aftershock with you.

Satisfied with his work, Tech carefully repositions you. He pulls your back to his chest, supporting you in his arms. Carefully he lowers you down onto his pulsing length. His hand moves to lightly grip your throat, steadying you as he bounces you in his lap. His eyes close as he falls into a feverish pace, gasping and whimpering into your hair.

“I’m so close, love. Where can I…”

“Inside.” you gasp as you steady yourself on his forearm. “You can cum inside me”

His grip tightens around you, growing more flustered as he approaches his climax.

He plants an unexpected kiss on your temple as his thighs begin to tremble. You feel him pulsing inside you, on the brink of his long anticipated release.

A guttural moan escapes his lips as he paints your insides, embedding himself into the warmth between your thighs. The muscles in his arms twitch around you as his pleasure overtakes him. You listen to his labored breathing as he nestles his face into your neck.

He keeps you close as he comes down from his high, finally finding reprieve from his condition. Neither of you spoke as you listened to the sounds of each other's breath, slowly drifting back to reality.

His fingertips glide over the vulnerable flesh of your neck before he dips down to plant soft kisses below your jawline.

“Thank you” he hums, gently tracing shapes along the length of your arms. You stay like this for a while, finding comfort in each other's closeness.

He sits back into the seat and adjusts your position in his lap. Reaching beside him, he grabs one of the throw blankets and wraps you both in its warmth.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks, checking to be sure you’re fully covered.

“Very”

You lay your head against his chest and hear his heartbeat steady.You feel yourself drifting off, only awoken when he finally speaks again.

“I hope you don’t think less of me after this”

His voice is unsteady as he pulls you closer to him.

“I don’t regret our encounter but I am deeply ashamed of my behavior”

Embarrassment bubbles inside you at his words. You had let yourself believe this was more than a quick resolution to his discomfort. You felt foolish for believing it all, of course it’s not his fault but you should have known he would have said anything to get relief.

The lump forming in your throat stopped you from answering, the silence only broken by the steady pounding in his chest.

“I had hoped our first time might have been much more intimate.” He continues, oblivious to your inner narrative.

“I was planning the perfect evening for us- granted that I ever gained the courage to ask you”

You leaned to the side so you could look up at him. He was already looking down at you through half lidded eyes.

“Although, I think we might have just circumvented that milestone” he adjusts his goggles and offers a bashful smile.

“I think it was long overdue” You give a quick squeeze to his hand. “It was nice, and I was happy to help”

He nodded then set his chin on the top of your head, squeezing you just a bit tighter

“Agreed.”

————————————————

When the others got back you all gathered at the bar to get caught up on their usual shenanigans, Cid never sent them on a mission that would go smoothly. Tech immediately presented Omega with her newly fixed holopad. After a quick talk about the importance of keeping her things out of Wreckers destructive reach, Omega quickly ran up to her room stating she had a lot of reading to catch up on.

You returned to the bar to find that Tech had already gotten you a drink, a subtle gesture that did not go unnoticed. You thanked him and reached your hand out to give his a soft squeeze.

“Oh my god, I knew it!” You are all startled by Cid’s sudden outburst.

“Knew what?” Hunter questioned, clearly already annoyed with her after the unexpected terrors he faced on the last mission.

She nodded in your direction, a smug grin creeping across her face.

“They finally did it- Look at ‘em! Pay up, Killjoy” she turns to Echo with an outstretched hand

He looks between you and Tech, then rolls his eyes as he digs through his pockets for any loose credits. “You two couldn’t have waited another 14 rotations?” he grumbles as he places the contents of his pocket on the bar in front of him.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to” Tech tries to play coy but he is thwarted by the flush on both of your faces.

“He’s talking about you two finally hooking up. Took ya long enough!” He laughs as he chugs the rest of his drink. “HA! I didn’t think you had it in ya Tech!”

He gives Tech a rough shove on the shoulder as you bury your face in your hands.

“You are as subtle and eloquent as ever, Wrecker” He says through gritted teeth.

Hunter brings his hands up to rub his temples, finally putting a stop to the nonsense “Okay, enough, all of you! You’re giving me a migraine”

#tbb tech #the bad batch #sw tbb #tech x reader #tbb x reader #bad batch tech #tbb wrecker #tbb fanfiction

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elvendria · 1 year

Text

Clean (Formerly Love is a Battlefield)

AU Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part One

Summary:

You return to Hawkins after a few years in the middle of the night during the summer with your 4-year-old sister in tow, thinking the two of you could fly under the radar and settle in at Forest Hills Trailer Park. You thought you could get by without bumping into your old enemy, Eddie Munson, the town freak.

But you weren't always enemies, in fact, there was a time when you two were closer than anything.

Eddie dreams of making it big, you just dream of making it out of here alive.

\\enemies - lovers//

((Warning I'm not from the US, so bare with me when it comes to states and such))

tw: 18+ MINORS DNI or I will be busting kneecaps, E.D, physical abuse, child abuse, runaways, reader is 20 and Joyce's ex-step-niece, Will and Johnathan's cousin, Joyce is Queen, Wayne is King, slow burn, gambling addictions, Eddie is 20, Chrissy is the villan but we stan grace

Word Count: 3.96K

part two part three part four

May 21st 1986

You drive the back roads as much as possible, the 1970s Dodge Challenger illuminated under the moon as you try your best to drive carefully. You didn't want to wake Willow, your 4 years old sister, sleeping in the backseat. It was drizzling rain, pouring down the windshield in sheets, how very fitting.

It had been a whirlwind, a spur-of-the-moment decision. Things had gotten to be... too much, having moved to Vegas from Hawkins a few years ago for your Dad's new telemarketer job. Willow wasn't even born yet, and after she was it didn't take long for it all to go to shit.

Pleasant conversations turned into civil discussions turned into small spats turned into full-blown fisticuffs. You could handle the occasional black eye or bust lip, you were a big girl, but the second you found out that they'd laid a hand on Will you were out of there.

The summer had just begun, and you were taking care of Willow while you were both at home. It was at least 84°F, and so you changed her out of her jammies and into a loose sundress when you noticed it. A large handprint on her arm and an even larger bruise began to form in the center of her back.

"Will, what happened?" You already knew what it was, but you hoped beyond hope that you were wrong. Mom was decent enough to hit in places you could hide unless she was drunk, hence the purpling bruise under your eye. Dad was the one to smack you if you got in his way of something. Dad would slap you and not care where it landed.

"Daddy got mad at me for playing with my dollies while he watched TV. I'm sorry sissy I didn't mean to be bad." She hung her head, to which you tilted it up to look in her eyes, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill.

"Shh Willa it's okay..." You pulled her in for a hug, careful not to hold her too tight. "How about we go on a little trip, you and me? We can go for as long as you want." She was four fucking years old. She was a child. She shouldn't be worrying about getting in trouble for playing with a goddamn toy. "You can bring all your dolls with you! They can come on the trip with us."

It never took much convincing with her. You'd soon learned that she was the kind of kid who just wanted to help others, giving them her lunch and going over to someone who was sitting alone and asking if they wanted to play jump rope with her.

You shook your head no when she asked would your parents be joining the two of you, and her eyes lit up a small bit, which made your heartbreak. Your father was known for flying off the handle, a loss at the casino was enough to put him on the warpath for weeks. If he had bet on the football game and she got in his way of seeing something he considered important, it wouldn't have mattered that she was only a child. She was standing in the way of him and his money, and so she needed to be removed.

You shoved anything and everything you could into 3 duffel bags. Mostly clothes and essentials along with any cash you had saved up for college tuition. It wasn't like you were going anyways, you'd have never left Will here alone plus you missed the deadline on applications. Now you were just a high school graduate with no prospects.

You threw in a lot of snacks for the drive, it was going to be a long ride back to Hawkins and Vee could get hangry at the best of times.

And Hawkins you had landed. After spending the past three nights in different motels, hood up anytime you saw the hint of a security camera at a gas station, you finally arrived to the one place that had always been like a home away from home, to the one person who you could trust like no other. You felt guilty for knocking at this hour, especially when you remembered that it had been almost 2 years since you last spoke with her.

The porch light turned on, door swinging open with a loud creak as you cradled the sleep-drunk 4 year old on your hip, her drool pooling on your shoulder, not that you cared.

"Hi Aunt Joyce..."

Joyce was your aunt in the every way but legally. She had married your Uncle Lonnie, leaving him when she found out that her husband was a lot like his brother. Thankfully, from what you've heard through the grapevine that is your fathers derogatory comments, her sons seem to have been spared those genes.

"Y/N? Is that.. Is that you?" Her voice was bleary, dull and squinted from tiredness, and once again I felt immense amounts of guilt for waking her up at this hour. It had to be at least 3 in the morning, and here you were, a niece who hadn't contacted her in two years (not that you were allowed to) standing in her doorway, soaked to the skin from the rain.

You remember the last words she said to you, the hurried phone call as she told you Will was home safe, no longer missing. You didn't even care that your father had cut the phone call short, quite literally taking a scissors to the cord, you were that happy to hear your cousin was okay.

"Yeah I'm uh..." You'll be honest, you didn't think this far ahead. You knew where you would be living, you'd called ahead to the trailer park owner from a shady motel and told him you'd pay him a deposit tomorrow. Well, today. But you hadn't planned what you'd say to Joyce, how you'd tell her that you skipped town with your sister in an attempt to save her from the abuse back home. "I'm back home. Just us.."

That was all she needed to hear to usher you inside, her arms wrapping you in the first hug that wasn't your sisters in four years.

Telling everything to Joyce was actually a lot easier than you thought, especially when you didn't have to tell her at all. She took a good look at you and noticed the deep bruise under your eye and the small scar on your chin from where your mom had forgotten her own strength, causing you to hit the kitchen counter. It hadn't been there when you left, so it confirmed what Joyce already knew. You didn't have to utter a word for her to understand.

"I'll be moving into Forest Hills in the morning, I'm only asking for two things, and I'll make it up to you as best I can, I promise." Your eyes were pleading with her, not that they needed to be, Joyce would've done anything to help you. She saw you almost like a daughter, wanting on more than one occasion to sweep you away from them and take care of you. She'd never gotten to meet Willow, but already she was in love with the bouncy brunette curls that fell across her face as she slept in your lap, cuddled up to you on the couch like you were the only person in the world.

"I don't have a lot..." She reached into her purse, bulling out a few crumpled bills, only stopping when you put a hand on her arm and looked at her. Everything favor with your parents had to have been paid back with interest. If you needed a ride to school, you had to fill the car with gas and wash it. If you needed to borrow $5 for lunch, you had to pay back $35, all under the guise of 'this is how it is in the real world, no ones going to love you for free'. And yet here was Joyce, a woman who wasn't even technically related to you, who you hadn't spoken to in years, offering over whatever she had with no strings attached.

"I have the money, thank you though. I just..." You blinked back tears, the overwhelming feeling of gratefulness washing over you like a waterfall. You had never been great at accepting help, no clue why. It's not like you were in a transactional relationship with your parents. You stroked Willow's hair. If it weren't for her you wouldn't even be asking, you'd be determined to do this alone. But you needed stability for her, along with a steady cash income. "I need help with a job."

You saw Joyce's eyes light up, holding your hand that had been on her arm. She smiled at you, a soft gentle smile that made you feel at home again. This house had been your home away from... whatever it was you could call where you lived. You used to play board games with Johnathan at the kitchen counter, or lie on your stomach and draw pictures with Will on the floor. It all smelled the same, a thick mustiness in the air combined with a lemon cleaning product.

You stayed and talked with Joyce for a while, she told you she could secure you an interview at the local music store, and if that failed she joked about having someone on the inside at Melvalds. She hugged you goodbye, kissing the top of your head like she used to when you were a kid, standing in the doorway as you drove off, not closing it until your tail lights were out of sight.

It was early morning when you pulled up to your new home. The owner had given you a discount along with a look of pity. Usually you'd be the first to tell a person off for looking at you like that, but hey, if it got you a discount you weren't going to say no.

You parked up outside and instinctively looked across the dirt road, realizing why it felt like such a familiar drive. Right across from your trailer, where you planned on laying low for a while, was 53 Forest Hills Park.

The Munson Residence.

You swore you saw a curtain move back into place when you took Willow from the car, balancing her on your hip as you held your new key, but maybe you were imagining things, because you stood there for five more minutes to see if the door would open, and all it did was remain shut. For some reason that hurt you more than if he was to actually show his face.

Not that you wanted him to.

You brushed it off, looking down at the key before you pushed it in the lock, a little extra force was needed as it was somehow already rusty, even though he told you it was new. Not that you were going to complain. A home is a home after all. All you needed was somewhere for yourself and Ivy to rest your heads and eat food, everything after that was secondary.

You walked into the bedrooms and saw that the beds already had sheets on them, though they looked... questionable. You didn't want to run the risk of Willow or yourself being bitten by something, so you hastily undressed the beds, flipping both mattresses. It was a temporary solution until you could take them out back and beat them senseless with the sweeping brush to be a bit more certain they weren't infested.

Once again, you weren't complaining, anything was better than a motel bed where the springs threatened to burst through and stab your skin. You were really looking forward to a night where you weren't swaddled in blankets and towels to avoid being impaled.

"Here you go monkey, snug as a bug in a rug." You had put one of your hoodies on Willow, the fabric coming down to her ankles, the sleeves well past her fingertips. It looked ridiculous on her, but you didn't pack sheets because why would you think of that? You walk over to a closet in the hallway and find some relatively clean linen, pulling them out and making the beds. You'd plan a trip to a laundromat soon, you needed to wash your clothes from the journey anyways.

You pulled the blanket up to her chin, kissing between her eyebrows gently. As you went to pull away, you felt a tiny hand grab onto you, or at least attempt to. She was too tired to speak, but you knew what she meant, what she wanted you to do.

Crawling onto the bed beside her, one arm bent up behind her head as you stroked her rosy cheeks, you smiled down at her as you felt your eyes droop, growing more and more tired by the second.

"I'm here petal, I'm not leavin'." You mumbled lightly, sleep overcoming you as you lay beside her.

A few days had passed, and Willow seemed to be settling down to the idea of being here for a while. You'd been keeping an eye on the news, and there were no reports about either of you, so even though you'd been gone just over a week, you're parents hadn't reported you two missing.

You were standing in the kitchenette, having just gotten back from your first shift at the record store, a resounding success if you did say so yourself. Willa sat in the manager's office, you were going to need to find someone to look after her. Joyce had to work too, even though she told you numerous times that she could babysit.

She was sitting watching Looney Toons, giggling at something Bugs Bunny did on the TV. You looked over at her as you flipped pancakes, having only grabbed the bare essentials to make a few meals. Your paycheck was due at the end of the week, and you were planning on going grocery shopping then.

The room felt hot from the sun pouring in, the rays of light accentuating every speck of dust in the room. It filtered through the curtains, the room now a soft glow, the dark brown furnishings looking brighter. You were calm, and relaxed, setting down the plate of pancakes in front of Willow when there came a knock on the door.

Of course you were nervous, why wouldn't you be? just because they hadn't called the cops doesn't mean they hadn't figured it out for themselves. They could be standing outside, waiting to drag you both back to Nevada to be their personal punching bags. Hunching down, you stayed low as you walked, or rather crawled over to the window, peering out.

You saw what looked to be a kind but stern man standing outside holding a tupperware box. He looked vaguely familiar, like he was from a distant memory. Something about him felt safe, or at least safe enough to open the door anyways.

Pulling it open, you looked at him as his eyes widened slightly like he was surprised to see you. You stood there trying to piece where you knew him from when it finally clicked with you who was before you.

"Jesus Christ darlin', thought I was havin' a vision when I saw ya'll pull up just t'other day. Said to myself, surely Y/N Y/L/N isn't back here." Wayne's southern drawl made everything sound pleasant and inviting, and you couldn't help the smile that grew on your face. He looked different than when you last saw him, his hair was thinner and his skin was more aged, but no one would ever be able to forget the energy Wayne Munson radiated.

"Oh my god, Wayne! How are you? Come in!" You stepped back, holding the door open for him to come and sit, suddenly realizing something as your words caught in your throat. There was a chance that Wayne wasn't going to be alone, and that his nephew was going to be joining him very soon. "Is he uh... Is he going to join you?"

There was a reason you knew the drive to the trailer park so well, why you stared at the Munson trailer for a solid five minutes, afraid to blink in case you missed him, why you knew Wayne and he knew you, both acting like old friends. It's because you were. Or at least you had been with his nephew.

Eddie Munson, in all his wickedness and cruelty, had been your best and closest friend in the world. He was the first boy you ever loved, the first boy to break your heart too. No guy you met since then has ever been enough to make you forget about him.

Despite how much you wanted to.

"No no, he..." His words faltered, his eyes cast down at his hands as you placed a cup of coffee in them. The trailer wasn't much but at least it had a kettle. "I don't think he knows you're here. Y/N I really think you two should..." But you cut him off before he could finish.

"I'm sorry Wayne, but after everything he said, everything he promised and and what he did, I can't look at him right now." Mentioning him made your chest ache, and made you want to not hate him. You wondered if he'd grown his hair back, if he'd gotten any better at guitar, if he still had that tattered old copy of Lord of The Rings that you'd gotten him for his 9th birthday with your pocket money that you'd hidden away.

You twisted the ring he gave you on your finger, something you always did when you were nervous. It was a thick silver ring, with a chain pattern around the middle of it. You'll never forget what he said to you when he walked up, holding out the ring on a small chain. You were only slightly older than Willow. It also happened to be the very first thing he said to you.

"Hey! Wanna see what I have?!" He came barrelling over to you, his hand clasped around something tight. You were worried if he was going to show you a bug because surely it would be dead by now. He was a small boy with shaggy dark brown hair to match his eyes. You hadn't seen him in your grade before.

"Um.. sure?" You had been making daisy chains on the grass, taking a short break from the swings. You were gonna go back to them though, you were determined to swing so high you could see your house.

"I think it might be too big for you, but I won this at the arcade." He looked shy, nervous even. He'd been admiring the way your pigtails flowed when you soared high, and he remembered he had the ring in his pocket.

"Thank you!" You were at the age where you didn't question anything, and where someone being friendly was only that, a person being friendly. You took the necklace from him, slipping it around your neck and giggling as it swung side to side. The boy looked a little older, maybe a year? You slipped the ring over your finger, giggling as it slipped back off again, danging from the chain.

"My mom talks about growing into stuff all the time, maybe that's what you can do with that!" He looked so excited, so eager and happy and joyful before sitting down on the ground and plucking a long blade of grass, holding it between his thumbs and trying to make that noise you'd seen people do before. He kept muttering about how he almost had it even though he was nowhere near close.

You sat like that for what felt like hours before a young-looking woman called him over, walking and taking his hand. She looked so much like him, a striking resemblance between them both. He began to walk away, before breaking his grip on his mother's hand to run back and tackle you into a hug.

"I'm Eddie, see you soon!"

You told him your name, and if anyone were ever to ask you when you fell in love with Edward Munson, it would be that moment exactly.

"I understand, just... try to go easy on him okay?" He nodded his head, hands clasped around the mug. You both heard scuffles coming from the side and turned to see the mischievous brunette staring at you from over the sofa, the lower half of her face obscured.

"Where are my manners! Wayne... this is my sister Willow." Walking over, you scooped her up in your arms, her giggles warming your heart and Waynes as you sit down again with her on your knee. That was the thing about Willa, everything about her made people want to smile, and her very presence lit up the room.

"Well hello there little lady, how are you this fine afternoon." He grinned over at her, his gruff exterior giving way to that heartwarming smile you remembered from childhood.

The one thing about Willow, the one thing that you knew for certain, was that she had absolutely no filter whatsoever. She sat there for a second, ignoring Wayne's question before looking down from his receding hairline to his face.

"You have a very shiny head."

She said it with full confidence, no hesitation. You felt your face turn bright red with embarrassment. You were about to scold her, tell her that she couldn't just go around commenting on how people were bald, when you heard a loud bellowing laugh from across the table.

Looking at Wayne, he was clutching his sides as a stray tear rolled down his face. He started wheezing, which caused you to laugh, which caused Willow to laugh. Her laugh was like a lilted giggle, bouncing on your leg and hiding behind her hands as her lopsided pigtails danced around her.

"I suppose you're right, my head is rather shiny.." He chuckled further, finishing up his coffee. You sat there and talked for a few minutes, before Wayne stood up, carrying his mug to the sink, ignoring your protests claiming that you would take care of it yourself.

"I best get going, working night security at the plant, they need me over there at 7 on the dot." He reached over, playfully pretending to steal Willows nose. "Now we have to meet again so I can give this back, okay darlin'?" Willa just nodded her head and giggled, hands flying up to cup her face.

The two of you walked out to the front of the trailer, chatting away again, completely oblivious to the figure watching you from 53 Forest Hills Trailer Park. A figure with a heart that was beating a mile a minute, because there you were, after some long, excruciating years of being without you, and you were talking to his uncle like nothing was wrong.

He was still in his daze when he felt her soft hand on his bicep, pulling his focus away for a second.

"Eds, come back to bed, Wayne's left for the evening, wanna have some fun with you." He used to like the way she said his nickname, the nickname you started for him, but now it felt wrong, weird even, and he wasn't sure why.

"Sure Chris, lead the way..." He followed Chrissy into his bedroom. He knew he should be thinking of her, of his girlfriend, the prom queen and former High School Queen, but his mind still thinking of you, his mind filling with questions, but predominantly one.

"What the hell were you doing back here?"

part two part three

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