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luveline · 3 months

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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky.

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely.

Total quiet.

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?”

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?”

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?”

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…”

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?”

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.”

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.”

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh.

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated.

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry.

“Spencer?” you ask quietly.

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?”

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?”

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups.

“Where are you?”

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him.

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.”

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?”

“Where was I?”

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed.

“Still where?”

“Did you hit your head?”

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.”

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk.

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.”

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.”

“…What?”

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.”

“I annoy people.”

“You don’t annoy me.”

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here.

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?”

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection.

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?”

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly.

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?”

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.”

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says.

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room.

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark.

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly.

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!”

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer.

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask.

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again.

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.”

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath.

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers.

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year.

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.”

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.”

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!”

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity.

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek.

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.”

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly.

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says.

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway.

“I don’t want to be alone forever.”

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates?

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess.

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.”

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol.

“She kind of looked like you.”

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.”

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.”

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Is that why you make all your jokes?”

“What jokes, babe?”

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.”

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?”

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.”

“Spencer, you remember everything.”

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.”

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him.

You’re happy to.

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled.

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse.

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully.

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally.

“Can I come home with you?” he asks.

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.”

— —

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.”

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.”

“So you want three?”

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.”

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?”

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him.

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory.

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that.

The avocado is making him feel sick.

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?”

“I think I'm gonna throw up.”

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes.

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button.

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.”

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.”

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.”

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now.

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said.

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say.

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.”

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask.

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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yanderestarangel · 8 months

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HEADKANONS BI HAN | SUB ZERO MK1 WITH S/O

A/N: I'm going to write headcanons about all the men in MK, I'm going to write one shots, fanfic, I'm going crazy and more horny for each one of them... I'm gay as f*ck. Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post.

TW: sfw, headcanons in general, afab reader, smut.

He is an aggressive lover. I mean, he's not going to hit you or anything, but he's extremely cold (I laughed after remembering that he's fucking sub zero lol), he's the type to talk the basics, even to you, so don't do it "silly" questions for him, if he's okay or if he ate, he'll answer: "-I'm here in front of you so obviously I'm fine." "-Don't worry, I know how to take care of myself, I'm not a child."

He likes to show his love for you through actions, like buying you something you've been wanting for a while, like giving you a bouquet of flowers, small but meaningful, Bi-Han doesn't know how to express love for anyone, I'm sorry, But it's the truth, but he tries for you, even if it's not the best.

Bi-Han cares about you even if he doesn't express it, he knows that he is a frustrated and wrong man in several actions, even if he wants to lie to himself that he doesn't, you both know that, but if you haven't given up on him, and You're still on his side, it means you love him, and he values that.

Bi Han won't let you work outside of his sight, that is, he will want you at home, you can beg or try to argue, he will say: "-Your job is to be my husband/wife, take care of our house, me and yourself, I can't allow you to go around." -He spoke calmly, but seriously, and that was really his thought, he just wants you to be close to him, he is afraid, terrified, of losing you one day. -

Bi Han is insecure, even if he never admits it, he gets jealous very quickly, he knows that you are a beautiful person, so he knows that many ninjas lust after you, even though you are married to him, so please don't flirt with other men or women, this man is capable of crazy things and the silent treatment he will give you after that will be for an indefinite period of time.

You are always on his mind in every mission, Kuai Liang and Tomas sometimes notice their grandmaster looking into space and perhaps, a transparent smile appears quickly, while Bi-Han looks at the landscape on the horizon, thinking about you. "-I hope (Y/N) is okay" -He said to himself, shaking his head soon after and returning to the mission.

When he notices that you are sad he becomes worried, but he just crosses his arms under his chest, and looks at you waiting for an explanation for such behavior, if you are upset about something that someone from the Lin Kuei clan did to you, consider that person dead, your grand master husband will immediately leave the house forming a deadly ice dagger in his hand, returning some time later, with a determined and blood-stained look. "-Okay, wipe your tears, the problem has already been solved, let's have dinner." -He spoke seriously and calmly, as he wiped the blood from his hands on a cloth, heading to the kitchen with heavy steps and giving you a look, so you could follow him.

Bi-Han lies down on the bed next to you, but he can't sleep for several nights, he finds himself watching you, your face so peaceful next to him, the ninja monster of the lin kuei, you look so good and comfortable next to him, he really wonders why you married him, you deserve someone better.

He covers you more with the sheet, caressing your cheek lightly with his thumb, while whispering on rare occasions, that he loved you.

"-I really love you, you know that? I'm sorry I'm not the best man for you (Y/N), I really want you forever by my side, and I'll protect you from this world, whatever the cost, what do I do and for me and for you." -Bi Han told you while you slept, he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, while looking at the moon soon after, it would be another night that he would be haunted by his own demons.

Bi-Han's favorite couple's activity with you is strolling to a lake on the Lin Kuei clan's estate, sitting with you on the cool grass as the two of you watch nature, the swans on the lake, the cloudy sky announcing an upcoming rain. would soon come, the trees swaying to the rhythm of the wind, as Bi Han talked about his mother, he really loved her, and he is happy to see that you were really interested in listening, as he talked about childhood memories, making little sculptures of ice with his fingertips to represent the story he told, it's these moments with you that make everything he did, even the cruelest things, worth it.

He may not be loyal to the clan, but he is to you. He's the type that if someone comes at him, he has to be held back so he doesn't punch them for such audacity. Ex:

"-Bi Han, are you going to come with us-"

"-I'm a married man"

"-Bi Han, we just asked-"

"-I'm a married man, I told you." -He says pointing to the wedding ring and leaving. They were just going to ask him to drink a little, but as Bi Han said, he is a married man to you.

He doesn't like nicknames, only during sex, other than that he will call you by your name, or "my husband/my wife", he likes the idea of being called "husband" by you too, so if you If you refer to him like that, in public, he will melt inside, and smile slightly sideways behind the mask.

He is a wild man in bed, taking out his frustrations and anger on your beautiful pussy, mouth and body in general.

Bi Han loves blowjobs, if he could, you would be kneeling between his legs 24 hours a day, with your pretty face taking his entire cock in your mouth - I feel sorry for you dear, this man's cock is big and thick, he's literally going to hit it down your throat easily, leaving you breathless while your husband enjoys watching you choke on his dick like that -

He likes to degrade you in sex, it's a way for him to mark you as his and release his frustrations too, he will fuck you roughly, especially fucking you with his dick stuck in your pussy, with him lifting you easily while his hips they aggressively pound against your tight hole.

"-You're a great slut, you know? Taking my cock like a desperate bitch."

"-Oh fuck, you feel so good, don't you? Your pussy was made for me, the grand master lin kuei, and only mine, only I deserve you, do you hear? I'm just going to fuck that beautiful pussy until you can only think about how You want my dick inside you."

"-Do I really have a little whore as my husband/wife? How lucky for me then."

"-I'm going to fill you up... I'm going to fill that tight pussy of yours, and you want that, don't you? You want every drop of my cum, you're a hungry slut."

He loves to call you: "slut", "dirty bitch", "private whore", "nymph", "good boy/girl with a tight pussy". Most of the sex sessions you have with Bi Han end with him cumming on your face, pussy or belly, painting everything with his cum and leaving you panting with your legs shaking - for him, sex really is only good when you are weak from cumming on his dick, and overstimulated, with a swollen clitoris - He loves many sexual positions, but he prefers:

Cowgirl’s Helper: He likes to see you on top of him, your hands on his chest, while one of his hands squeezes your ass, and the other is behind his head. Bi Han watches you get impaled on his dick, stretching your pussy slowly, as your pussy drools on his pulsing dick, he looks at you, smiling smugly when he sees the rise of his dick in your womb. He would just groan in response to your desperate moans, watching your body move as you whimpered to cum - he wasn't going to let you cum yet, and if you did, he was going to punish the hell out of you, giving you at least five painful orgasms and pleasant that night -

Stand and Deliver: He loves seeing you bent over, your waist is sore from being bent over for him, but he loves seeing your ass and waist on top, thrusting into your pussy while pulling your hands behind your back, he would go so hard on your hole that your feet would leave the ground, you could feel the burn of the speed of Bi Han's dick in your pussy, but he wouldn't stop, he wouldn't stop until he left you a trembling mess full of cum - while calling you a desperate slut his cock -

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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napakmahal · 6 months

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Baby Fever

This may or may not be a call out towards myself cause I will swear up and down I don’t want kids then see a baby in public and be like “goo goo gaga”

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that working on slow days is beyond boring. What’s even worse is when the only people that come in on slow days are shitty customers.

“The manners of today’s working class have depleted in ways I cannot fathom!” Hiro came bursting into the back of the café restaurant with a look of disbelief on his face.

Without looking up from his phone, Tadashi answered “Wow those are some big words, little brother, I’m impressed.”

“Shut up!”

You laughed while sitting on the wooden countertop, arms hugging your boyfriend’s back. “What happened?”

Hiro plopped down on the stool in front of the sink and started to rant. “This woman comes in here and she bought a mocha latté and then complained about it being six dollars. Like I’m the one who makes the fricken prices! Surprise, surprise she didn’t have enough. So what did she do? SHE REACHED INTO THE TIP JAR AND GRABBED TWO DOLLARS! But then after I took her order and started making her drink, she followed me around the entire time watching me. She pointed at the simple syrup and was like ‘Can you add another pump?’ LIKE UNLESS YOU’RE GOING TO PAY THE EXTRA 25 CENTS NO I CANNOT! And when I finally gave it to her she said I took too long and that the place down the street makes them faster and they taste better. THEN GO THERE AND STOP WRINGING OUT MY PATIENCE!”

By the end of his story, you and Tadashi were losing your minds over how hard you were laughing. Granted, Hiro being upset wasn’t funny but his storytelling abilities were unmatched.

Customers could be very difficult and earlier that day someone had told Tadashi they wanted a manager because they were being pissy about not being able to get a refund on a drink they ordered and drank half of. If it were any other day, he would have just gone to get his Aunt. But Aunt Cass went out for a girl’s day with her friends since all of them happened to be in town and relatively free at the same time. As you get older, hanging out with friends is a privilege.

A couple of dings from the bell on the front counter rang signaling the arrival of a customer. Hiro’s fight of flight sense kicked in and he practically jumped off the floor.

“No, absolutely not.” He shook his head. “I’m not taking them, my workday is over.”

“What?” Your boyfriend looked at his little brother. “It’s been two hours!”

“Yes Tadashi, it has been two hours!” He hissed. “Two hours of my life I will never get back. These people are insane!”

Hiro took off and locked himself in the walk-in pantry. He then proceeded to slam his face into an unopened bag of flour and scream his heart out.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so dramatic.” Tadashi stared at the door of the pantry, listening to his little brother’s muffled cries.

The bell was still ringing outside, the customer was still waiting. You laughed into Tadashi’s back, taking in his smell. Tadashi’s a clean person and not only that, his natural body smell is just pleasant. Just about everything you own smells like him, and you love it.

“Do you want me to get it?” You mumbled against his cardigan.

Your boyfriends turned around to look at you. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Just to help out.” You shrugged.

“Hun, you don’t work here. You really don’t have to.”

You scoffed, “You don’t work here either. Technically.”

“But I live here, so I kinda have to.”

“Tadashi, I practically live here.”

He laughed at that. It was pretty true. The only times you ever really went home were to get things you didn’t have, do your laundry, or if you felt like they were getting sick of you. Plus you never really feel like that anymore because the last time you said you feared Aunt Cass wanted you out of her house she almost started crying. She was afraid she’d done something to make you feel unwelcomed. Besides, you’re her girl in a house full of boys and their bots.

“Are you sure? I can get it, or force Hiro to do it.”

“No, it’s not a big deal.”

He leaned over and pecked you on the lips. “Okay, thank you hunny. I appreciate you so much.”

You walked outside the curtain only to be met with a young couple and their baby. He was holding onto her and trying to rip away a claw clip from her baby grip.

“Yeah, mommy’s clip is pretty.” He said in a small voice. “But we can’t eat it though.”

“What is she doing?” The mom asked looking back at her partner and their baby.

“Trying to eat your clip. I’m telling you she’s going to get sick, last night it was the pen then-”

“Hi there!” You walked towards them smiling. “So sorry about the wait.”

The mom shook her head. “No, it’s fine. We were trying to calm her down anyway.”

“What can I get you guys?”

They went on to order one green apple Italian soda with redbull, an iced hazelnut coffee, and a small warm almond milk with a cake pop. The entire time you were making their drinks, you couldn’t help but notice the babbling of their baby. She was adorable, dressed in a pink sundress and flower-shaped sunglasses. Everything from the sound of the blender to the noise the can of Red Bull made when popped open made her giggle.

During that entire time, you couldn’t help but wonder: What if Tadashi and you had a baby? What would you name them? If it was a boy, then you could name them after him or Hiro. Naomi was a beautiful name for a girl. You could buy them little themed onesies and decorate their rooms. They would say ‘dada’ before ‘mama’ because it’s beyond simple to connect with Tadashi. And they could go to school and crush their science department and say it’s because their dad is a genius.

By the time you snapped back into reality, you’d already made all their drinks and made sure to cool down the small milk for the baby. When you placed everything on the dropoff, the little girl reached her hand down from where she was being held and poked the back of your wrist with her tiny finger.

“Hello there!” You smiled at her. “Aren’t you adorable?”

Your face only made her start to giggle and placed her hand on her chin and flicked it outwards. Thank you in sign language. In return, you placed your hand flat on your chin and pulled it down towards your chest to say ‘You’re welcome’.

“She’s beautiful.” You spoke to her parents. “What’s her name?”

“This is Nyla,” Her mom smiled at her baby. “She just turned ten months, so we’re almost there.”

You gently clapped your hands together, “Oh that’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“What about you?” Nyla’s dad asked.

Her mom joined in on the questioning. “Any little ones?”

You almost choked on your own saliva at their question. I guess to them it didn’t seem too extreme. They barely looked three years older than you.

“No, I don’t. I haven’t been with my current boyfriend long enough for that. And I don’t even know if he wants any.”

Nyla’s mom gave you a sympathetic face. “Well, if you end up wanting any I hope the process is smooth.”

You thanked them and signed “bye” to Nyla. Despite them being gone, the baby fever they’d given you without trying lingered all the way into the night.

——————————————————————————

While you were lying on your boyfriend’s bed scrolling on your phone through countless baby videos and falling down the rabbit hole of how skin-to-skin connection works and how to swaddle them correctly so they don’t scratch themselves when they sleep. As your back was turned you felt a dent in the bed as your boyfriend started kissing your back from your tailbone to your shoulder blades.

“What ya’ lookin’ at hun?” He plopped down next to you and started snaking his arms around your waist.

“Just scrolling,” You kept your answer vague out of fear of freaking him out. “Hey, did you know that if you rub a teething baby’s mouth with warm garlic it will make them feel better than cold cloths?”

Tadashi kissed the side of your jaw, the tingle of his minty toothpaste prickling your skin. “I did not, that’s pretty cool.”

“When you swaddle babies you’re supposed to get them little mittens because they have really sharp fingernails.” You added.

Tadashi’s face contorted with confusion. “Why all this baby talk? What are you watching?”

“Just a bunch of baby videos.”

“Why?”

You sighed and put the phone down to turn your body down and look him in the eyes. “Well, while I was helping those customers earlier. They had such a cute baby and we just talking about having kids and stuff and I think they gave me like- baby fever or something.”

To your surprise, he started to laugh.

“Why are you laughing?” You poked.

“I’m sorry,” He grabbed your wrists. “I didn’t mean to laugh, you just caught me off guard.”

Your heart flipped in your chest out of nervousness. Had you freaked him out? “Is that bad?”

“No, no it’s not.” He assured you. “So, you want a baby?”

You covered your face with your hands and groaned. “I mean, right now yeah but then I think about like the birth process and then I’m like ‘nuh unh.’”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you’d make a fantastic mom.” Tadashi smiled into your neck.

You leaned over and rammed your head into his stomach. “Can we have one?”

The feeling of Tadashi’s stomach fluctuating while he laughed pushed against your head. “Maybe later, hun.”

“So you do want kids?”

He grabbed you by the face and forced you to look back up at him. “Yeah, I’ve told you that before. I’ve said I want a daughter, and I want her to look like you, and I want to decorate her room and throw her birthdays, and go to all her school and sports events.”

“I want her to have your nose.” You admitted.

Tadashi started laughing and shaking his head. “No, no she will get bullied. Trust me I know.”

“No matter son or daughter, they should take Japanese lessons.” You added.

“Yeahhhh,” Tadashi breathed through his teeth. He knew enough Japanese to ask someone for very general directions. But the second a native speaker started talking a little too fast, all his comprehension skills started to deplete.

You could have kids in future years, when you had a shared place and both of you were done with school. Besides, it’s not like anything at all could break the two of you apart.

#baymax #big hero six #big hero 6 #tadashi hamada #hiro hamada #bh6 x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #hiro hamada x reader #disney #fanfic #napakmahal #baby fever

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thisismeracing · 6 months

Text

After the afterparty | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x F!Moroccan!reader ― Warnings: mentions of food; typos. ― Summary: Fans have been watching Yn and Lewis interact since she first started attending races. Nothing seemed enough for them to pinpoint what was going on between the two until the Las Vegas Gran Prix happened, and contrary to the belief, what happens in Vegas doesn't always stay in Vegas. Yn and Lewis are about to find out. (Based on this request) ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

✷ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ✷ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment(don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

May, 2023

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lewishamilton

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lewishamilton the grind doesn't stop. Lets go

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ferrarifriends who finna be fired now? 🤣

landorizz who is he trying to get with these pics?

⤷ purplemerc I don't know, but he got to me, I am ready with open legs

⤷ purplemerc damn I meant open ARMS*, pardon my silly little keyboard hihi 😅😇

⤷ schumickey LMAO

motoswift I see Yn liked eh

sainzpodium someone said on twitter that they were seen talking at the afterparty... just saying 👁️👄👁️

June, 2023

📸 instagram

yninstagram

liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, and others

yninstagram I have always been sport’s girlie, but with soccer its a whole new level ❤️ happy to see my home team play! Can’t wait for the world cup!!! 🇲🇦🇲🇦

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f1eillish she's so pretty!!

vamosvettel 🇲🇦🇲🇦

franciscac.gomes we have to go to a match together!!! 💞

formulamerc I have to get a shirt like the one she's wearing, looks good

martelodohamilton I see sir Lewis liked huh...............

lewishamilton

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lewishamilton weekend off 🌊☀️❤️💚

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jasmine21 would y’all call me crazy if I say this is in Morocco? 👀

sirenzsainz Lewis has such an aura around him, he's so aesthetic, like...it's so good to see him

mercfan where are you, Lew?

⤷ sennanschumi no because he's totally gonna answer you, bestie, just you wait

ferrarifiasco a week without f1 is harder than a week without my gf

⤷ nandosmile my friend, respectfully, I hope she breaks up w you 😭🗣️

yninstagram

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yninstagram enjoying the weekend with my friends 💚

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smoothoperation friends to lovers has always been my favorite trope 🤭😇

hammert1m3 LEWIS ON THE THIRD SLIDE????

ynfan I so wanted to be friends with her

charles_leclerc bring me some souvernir!

⤷ carlossainz55 He means local food, but he's afraid the admin is going to see and tell the team's nutritionist

⤷ yninstagram it's fine, Charls, I'm bringing one big SHIRT for you and Carlos. It's a very popular SHIRT here in Morocco.

⤷ scuderiaferrari 👁️👁️

estebanbestie this comment section is very entertaining

ynfriend 🤍🤍🤍

July, 2023

🎥 youtube

August, 2023

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September, 2023

yninstagram

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yninstagram monza ❤️🇮🇹🎂

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charles_leclerc you told me you weren't posting it!!!

⤷ yninstagram did I? I don't recall this 🤔

⤷ carlossainz55 she didn't say a thing, cabron...

⤷ charles_leclerc just because you look good, shut up

⤷ carlossainz55 I always look good

⤷ yninstagram some may disagree with this...

⤷ carlossainz55 traitor! 😤

scuderiastroll lol I love their friendship

scuderiaferrari ❤️🥰

alonsostroll funny how Lewis has been liking every single post of hers huh

sainzsecret she looks so good!! if I had half of her beauty I wouldn't complain about a thing!

⤷ yninstagram believe me, bestie, you would

⤷ f1direction LMAO I love you, yn!!!

lewishamilton

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lewishamilton Every weekend we fight together as a team, and it’s always a tough battle. First, huge props to George. He had an amazing drive all weekend and deserved to be on the podium. Unfortunate for him not to finish, but he will bounce back. I’m so proud of all the work the team did this weekend. Thank you all for the unbelievable support, I see you🙏🏾

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georgerussell63 let's go, mate

girlbossgasly I love you, lew!!!

yninstagram It was brilliant to watch you race 💙 keep up the good work!

hamiltonalways Yn supporting her man :D

raintyres I'm happy I stayed awake for this race. Singapore is always a show

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October, 2023

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yninstagram Mexico!! 💚❤️🤍🇲🇽

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rbrpodium she posted mick and george, and lew 🤍

⤷ cyruscars casually posting everyone in a work environment except Lewis, I wonder what it means.........

mercmick THANK YOU FOR FEEDING US SCHUMI CONTENT, QUEEN!!!

ynfan as usual, the prettiest woman in the world

georgerussell63 💙

charles_leclerc it's horrible to share you. Please, get back to our garage

⤷ mickschumacher 😂😂

November, 2023

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yninstagram what happens in Vegas doesn't always stays in Vegas 🤭👄

comments on this post have been limited

lewishamilton my forever favorite afterparty company 💗😘

⤷ yninstagram I love you, handsome! ❤️

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

mercedesamgf1 Welcome to the right garage, Yn!

⤷ scuderiaferrari 🙄🙄🙄

alex_albon the way george is included on this dump make it seem like he's the kid 😂😂😂

⤷ georgerussell63 what if I am?

⤷ yninstagram yeah what if we adopted him? 🤨

⤷ georgerussell63 did you?? 🥹

⤷ yninstagram not sure. I'll ask Roscoe if he would like a sassy new brother 🏃🏾‍♀️

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― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, loves! I hope you guys liked this piece! 🤍 make sure to let me know your thoughts by reblogging and leaving me an ask!

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @v1naco @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @bbreezybitch @graciewrote @scorpiobleue @soph1644 @leclercsluv @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch

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©thisismeracing ― Do not copy, steal, or translate my work. Do not repost on a different media platform.

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pomefioredove · 6 days

Note

i just noticed on your 'yuu gets sold' sorta series that there was a good ending, by chance could you do a bad ending one? if not that's totally ok! keep safe and stay healthy ❤️

oh god. I have a very evil idea for this.

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim

summary: a bad (or good, depending on your stance) ending type of post: short fic characters: surprise :) additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is short, HELP

Everyone waits.

The chatter and banter which once occupied the courtyard dies down to dull whispers and foot tapping.

Everyone waits, and there's no Crowley.

"Wonderful," Jamil sighs. "He's probably taken all the money and run off. I told you all that-"

"Maybe he's late!" Kalim shouts. A few in the crowd murmur in hopeful agreement.

Silver coughs. "Maybe he realized this whole thing is ridiculous and is processing everyone's refunds,"

They don't like that option as much.

The sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, threatening to shroud everyone in darkness as the minutes tick on.

"Well, I've had enough of this," Vil says, turning towards the exit. "I've put off my afternoon long enough."

"For once, we can agree on something," Leona murmurs, dragging Ruggie along with him.

No one is exactly surprised with this turn of events- but there's a definite sense of disappointment that everyone is sharing.

"He probably just forgot or 'somethin," Epel says, walking alongside Ace, Deuce, and Jack back to Ramshackle to update you on the happenings.

Jack shrugs. "He's definitely not the most organized, but there's no way someone could just "forget" about this. I think Jamil is right, he probably ran off with the money while he could. The swindler..."

Deuce is the next to add something to the pity party. "And yet, we should've known this was a possibility,"

"Shoulda seen it coming..." Epel murmurs. "I shoulda listened to Vil and pulled out while I still had the chance. Dang it..."

The lights are on in Ramshackle as the four approach, a warm and welcome sight after their disappointing afternoon. And the front door is open- were you expecting them?

"Hm. Well, think of it this way," Ace pushes the door the rest of the way open. "We may have been scammed, but at least nothing changes. I mean, it could've been worse."

"A lot worse," Deuce murmurs, following him inside.

The four make it into the foyer and stop dead in their tracks.

There are many things to expect walking into Ramshackle- cobwebs, dust, ghosts, you- Crowley is usually not one of them.

"You- you've been here this whole time?!" Epel shouts, throwing his arms out. "We were all 'waitin for 'ya like a bunch of idjits!"

Deuce and Ace wince. "Dude, chill... but seriously, where were you?"

Crowley doesn't have the chance to answer before something else steals away their attention.

You walk into the room, suitcase in hand. "Guys?"

The four turn to greet you, eyes wide at the luggage you're carrying. "What's that... Crowley?"

The man himself just stands there, pretending to ponder something. "I could have sworn I sent someone to break the news... how peculiar,"

Epel's brow knots. "What news?"

"A third party somehow got wind of our little... venture and donated a very high sum at the last minute. Along with a very passionately worded letter about our dear prefect's safety here at school," he pauses. "Or lack thereof."

Crowley sighs. "The name rung a bell, but... I couldn't imagine how or why anyone outside of NRC would be following the prefect's moves so closely,"

Deuce's eyes narrow. "Crowley. What are you trying to say?"

"Well, I..." he says, seemingly at a loss for words. "I'm afraid to say that our prefect is being transferred to Noble Bell College,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #okay. admittedly I had a little TOO much fun with this concept. mostly because I've always wanted to write an 'everyone fighting over yuu #just for him to swoop in at the last minute' type thing. because it's funny and I actually really like mr. catholic guilt #I'm a big fan of the character he's based on anyway

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 7 months

Text

Tw, I guess, for an accidental outing. It's kind of crack, and Robin has a dingus moment.

Steve makes a weird, awkward laugh whenever he sees someone he likes fully naked. Robin found it endearing when they were watching a movie together, and someone came on because it was also how she figured out he liked men. She didn't call him out on it, though, and let him come out to her on his own. She really didn't think about it when she talked to Eddie and he told her about their little incident.

"So, how is it living with Steve?" Robin asked as she sat in his living room with Eddie.

Eddie was still hated by the town, so until they calmed down, he was laying low at Steve's. Currently, they were waiting for Steve to finish making dinner. He was very particular about the kitchen and he didn't really let anyone help him cook. It was his space, but it was alright because his food was really good.

"I actually like it," Eddie grinned. "I mean, there was this awkward moment where he walked in on me naked, but we moved past that. I think."

"It's fine if you were a naked woman he liked, then he would have made this really awkward laugh," Robin said. "So I think you're good."

"Does it sound anything like this?" Eddie asked and proceeded to make the laugh. "Because he made that sound."

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed, looking horrified. "Tell me that I didn't just accidentally out Steve?"

"I'm afraid that you did," Eddie hissed mockingly, being helpful.

"You have to revoke my card!" Robin exclaimed and pulled a card out of her wallet, handing it over him.

"Hmm. You actually made yourself a queer card, and it's laminated. I didn't know you were an official lesbian. What's an unofficial lesbian?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I made one for Steve, too," Robin said, her face pale. "And an unofficial lesbian is a fictional lesbian. Duh."

"Duh. How silly of me," Eddie said, rolling his eyes. "Can you make one for me too? Except inside of blue and red, can you make it black and red? Also, instead of lesbian can you put bisexual?"

"Really?!" Robin exclaimed with a gasp. "That's great! And yes!"

"Here you go," Eddie said and tried handing it back to her.

"No! You have to keep it! I'm suspended from any queer activities for outing him. I mean, you can't take it away permanently because I'm always going to be queer but I can't watch any queer movies, can't read any novels, and I can't go to gay bars," Robin said.

"Well, damn I was hoping we would watch Rocky Horror tonight," Eddie said, snapping his fingers. "Shucks."

"Nooo!!" Robin yelled and threw herself on the floor.

Steve came into the living room and frowned at Robin.

"I came in to tell you that dinner is done. Why are you on the floor?" Steve asked. "Why does Eddie have your queer card?"

"I'm sorry, Steve," Robin said, sitting on her knees. "It was an accident."

"So you had Eddie revoke your card?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Robin said.

"You realize you outed yourself by doing that?" Steve asked.

"Oh, damn. I did!" Robin exclaimed. "By the way, Eddie, I'm a lesbian."

"Yeah. I got that," Eddie laughed.

"Oh my God! I'm a dingus!" She yelled.

"Well, everyone has their dingus moments," Steve said. "Come on, I think we're even."

He pulled Robin up off the floor and into a hug.

"You don't hate me?" Robin sniffled.

"Your intention wasn't to out me or hurt me, so no, I don't hate you," Steve said. "Love you, babes."

"Love you too, babes," Robin said, sniffling again.

Steve put his arm around her and drew her into the kitchen. Eddie followed after with a grin.

"Oh, by the way, I'll out myself before there are any more accidents. I'm bisexual," Eddie grinned. "Robin's agreed to make me my very own card."

"Oh, thanks for telling me, man," Steve grinned and turned to Robin. "By the way, how did you accidentally out me?"

"Oh, don't you worry about that now, big boy, I'll tell you later," Eddie said with a smirk.

"Okay," Steve said, shrugging.

"Oh, so, Robin's not suspended then? Because now that I said it, I really want to watch Rocky Horror," Eddie said. "In fact, I have a Frankenfurter costume at the trailer. I might have worn it a few times."

Steve suddenly started laughing, a very awkward laugh.

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed.

"Look at that! It's not just when I'm naked!"

"What?!"

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic soulmates #platonic stobin #platonic with a capital p #lesbian robin buckley #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson

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ozzgin · 7 months

Text

I was pondering on what horrors to write for Halloween and when I remembered how many times I’d hoped for Valak content…I ran and whipped out my Grimoire and started typing in delirious inspiration.

Yandere! Valak x Reader

Featuring the Infernal President and a blissfully unaware reader backpacking through Romania. Warning: NSFW, blasphemy, non-consent

[Horror Masterlist]

“Mommy told me something

A little kid should know

It’s all about the Devil

And I’ve learned to hate him so

She said he causes trouble

When you let him in the room

He will never ever leave you

If your heart is filled with gloom”

"Now, you can't really say you've visited Romania until you see at least one monastery! Most Romanians are very religious, so churches and monasteries are popular attractions for tourists and locals alike." The tour guide is awfully enthusiastic for a cloudy Sunday morning. You nod politely and follow the group, although you can already feel yourself become distracted.

You're mostly interested in the old castles and bucolic hiking trails that Transylvania has to offer. Religious places...not so much. Alas, it's part of the experience. You check the flyer containing today's travel plans and google the location mentioned by the guide. Cârța Monastery. Seems to have some ruins included, and you'll be right on time for the Sunday chorus service, huh. Maybe that's why they picked today for a visit.

You hurry along the cobblestone path until the first traces of a building come into view. Somehow you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You scan over the visible windows, wondering if someone is watching from above. Nothing. Once you lower your gaze again, you notice the tour guide vigorously waving his arm and encouraging you to enter the church with everyone else. You were at the very front of the group, so how long did you stare at walls? You flash an apologetic smile and rush inside. The wooden door closes with a grating creak and you fumble to the first available seat. There's a few coughs and shuffles and eventually the Liturgy begins. Your eyes wander until they find a clear window, so you entertain yourself with the sights outside. It's not like you understand the words of whatever is currently happening, and you're not religious to begin with.

"How long is this going to take?" you groan internally and switch your focus to your hands, intertwined and resting in your lap. The monotonous chants cause your eyelids to feel heavy and they gradually lower themselves until all you see is black. It's okay, you're not sleeping. It's just a short nap, until...huh...the voices of the singing men diffuse as if distorted by distance and now everything is quiet.

"Took you long enough."

You jolt awake. You turn your head to check if whoever is sitting next to you has just spoken, but the room is suddenly empty. You jump from your seat and the thud of your feet hitting the stone floor creates a cavernous echo that sends a shiver down your spine. Ah, could it be that you're dreaming? The candles of the chandelier flicker, as if startled by a breeze, and abruptly go out.

"I don't like waiting. Especially for mere humans like you."

The same voice as before reverberates through the chamber. It's deep and jarring, sounding almost unnatural. You don't like it. You tilt your head, afraid to find the source of speech but too curious nonetheless. It's a person dressed like a nun. For a brief second you relax your shoulders, assuming it's one of the people living here. But after one step ahead the figure becomes vaguely illuminated, and you can discern the features bearing on this creature's face. Blood drains from your face and you can feel the bile pooling at the back of your throat. A blasphemous deformity, oozing with blight and evil. From within the hollow, dark sockets, two yellow orbs glisten with raw malice. You realize you've held your breath until now as your lungs contract in a pitiful attempt to pump more oxygen. The movement brings back your senses and your flight instincts kick in. You immediately sprint for the door and use your elbow to slam it open, nearly collapsing to the ground. Your eyes squint under the flash of bright light.

As you pant for air you notice you're back outside. There's people taking photos and talking cheerfully, and inside the church your group seems to have gathered before the iconostasis, listening attentively to a hearty discourse from your guide. The liturgy ended. What on Earth did you just witness? Before you can ponder the event, you feel a tug at your sleeve. It's an old lady, short and comically hunched. She's dressed all in black, with a head covering that hides most of her face, though you can still see the deep wrinkles that cross her features.

"Oh? Sorry, I don't speak-"

"L-am văzut și eu. Diavolul, maică. Aici nu mai e demult casa Domnului. Pleacă cât mai poți, am să mă rog pentru tine."

Her voice is shaky and she seems in distress. She strokes your arm once before limping away hastily. You blink and spend a moment trying to collect your thoughts. There's no one else nearby to ask for a translation, so you can only hope she finds help somewhere else. You return to the group and hope you won't have to deal with any other adventures.

"This is the annex. You can still see some details in the arches." Your guide points around the pillars and mossy brick patches. You take out your phone for some photos and your arms tremble slightly.

"It's suddenly very cold here, don't you think so?" you remark to your neighbor.

"Really? I'm quite literally sweating right now" they respond, baffled.

"It's a shaded area, that's probably why."

"Or you're just that excited to see me again."

Your eyes widen. It's the voice. You blink, and you find yourself in the empty church once more. No, no, no, this isn't happening. No. You're dreaming. This is an absurdity. Some hallucination of sorts. You try the door handle, except this time it's locked.

"It's not often I become interested in a mortal. In fact, this is the only time."

The nun is sitting on a bench, hands together in a praying motion. There's a mocking grin on its face.

"Maddening, truly. Deplorable, disgraceful, outrageous. Humiliation would await me if they suspected my intentions with a perishable being like you."

"Who the hell are you?" you interrupt the erratic monologue. The nun stands up and locks eyes with you, instantly making you nauseous.

"The Sixty-second Spirit, President Mighty and Great. His Office is to give True Answers of Hidden Treasures, and to tell where Serpents may be seen. The which he will bring unto the Exorciser without any Force or Strength being by him employed. He governeth 38 Legions of Spirits."

"What?"

"Valac." the creature extends a hand, as if expecting a handshake. "At least that's how they introduce me in the Lesser Key of Solomon." The fingers spread out and you feel a gravitational force pull you closer. It chuckles.

The cold fingers sink into your back and feel like claws digging your flesh. You let out a scream of protest and try to push away without success. It hurts. The touch burns your skin and spreads out like a wicked plague. What would this fiend even want from you? You search your mind for potential meanings and explanations. Truth be told, however, you're not well-versed in theological fantasies.

"You can't just possess someone's body. I won't accept it. You don't have my permission."

The creature erupts in hysterical laughter and you feel your knees weaken at the sharp, grotesque teeth that creep their way out. Everything about it is vile, scandalous. Unholy.

"If you want to call it like that...Then sure. But for this kind of possession I don't need your input, I'm afraid."

Your limp body is picked up and sloppily thrown over the altar table. The impact of the hard surface against your stomach causes you to gasp. You try to turn your head and look behind, but the large, clawed hand locks around your neck and keeps you in place. You can only glance ahead. You can sense your garments being ripped apart with one swift move and shudder at the unexpected contact with the cold air on your bare body. The creature's other hand slides over your forms before stopping on your bottom, adjusting it. The realization sinks in and you begin to panic. Is this the time to say a prayer? You don't know any.

"Our Father..." you mumble, trying to remember the continuation.

"Go on. I'm sure He'd love to hear from you while you're being fucked on His altar. Send Him my regards."

He forces your hips upwards, exposing your intimacy. Without any further delay he thrusts his member in, painfully stretching your entrance around it. Tears well up in your eyes at the sudden discomfort. The iconostasis in front of you blurs and sways with each violent plunge into your frail body.

"Oh, God" you sob.

"God ends here."

#the nun #the nun 2 #the conjuring #valak #valac #valak x reader #valak smut #the nun smut #yandere #yandere x reader #demon x reader #ars goetia

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tyttamarzh · 4 months

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Missasinfonia, songs and QSMP…

Hello!! Well, since we all continue to miss Missa, I want to share a little thought.

I don't know if it has already been talked about here, but in the Hispanic fandom of Missa we have his songs very present and some people have not been able to avoid talking about how some of them adapt perfectly to the QSMP.

I want to talk about two in particular whose lyrics I think are perfect for describing Missa's relationship with his family.

The first one is called "Privilegios" (privileges) and I think it describe what Missa is currently going through with Philza. Well, it talks about the anxiety of feeling insufficient for the other and trying to improve but feeling afraid of moving forward (the young Missa from 2014 wrote very deep lyrics). I remember that in a stream he told us about how several of his songs came about and said that he wrote "Privilegios" thinking about us, the people who follow him, because he didn't feel enough for us and is why he always try to do things better. Either way, I think he's perfect for describe his situation with Phil.

The song:

youtube

Lyrics

Sometimes I forget my sorrows and things I should do Because ideas slip away, they do not allow us to see Well creating something new means forgetting I would like to be like before and go back to the past

I know how to write the word mature very well But my thoughts don't let me act I don't want to forget, I don't ask for your mercy Because honestly I can fix it.

Chorus I don't know what to do if you're not okay (you're okay!) I don't know whether to lie to me or throw myself at your feet I wonder if I can deserve you Because I didn't earn the privilege.

How can I destroy damn anxiety? If outside my mind is my reality It is not so easy to wish others ill. just so I can free myself

The second song I want to talk about is called "Tarde para el plan B" (Late for Plan B) and I think it could be a message from Missa to Chayanne, some of the things he mentions remind me of what Missa told him in that day of fishing before travel to Japan. He talks about how it's okay to fail and that he shouldn't be overwhelmed by his mistakes, and encourages him to keep going and get better. There is also a phrase that I like to think is very much theirs, since it infers that even if they are not together, he will always see him. Now every time I hear that song I think of them and I can't help it u.u (It's a song created 10 years ago, but I think it's fits perfectly).

The song:

youtube

Lyrics

Have you ever wondered… what could happen if after the years, you could come back to the past? Would you have the chance to see what is wrong the bad memories you would be able to erase.

Enjoy moments you didn't see coming feel from the beginning what you should feel but remorse can cut you and repenting would be the final act

Look for alternatives, see how to improve May you know how to handle your situations You don't always get a second chance. you must take advantage of what time gives you

If they give you their hand, don't take our foot don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning You don't run when you want to calm down do something your soul can bear

[PRE CHORUS] And it's not that it's bad, it could be worse. What doesn't kill you makes you better.

And listen to me, here I will be, watching your actions wherever you are.

sometimes the reasons chase me but they don't want to catch me Sometimes actions are what will count, but you won't count. I prove that what I say is true It's your problem if you don't want to change but honestly sometimes everyone can fail

In the hope that everything is fine There are ideas within your being that grow and create the bad decision than wanting to correct what has already happened

Do what you need to make you feel better. Defeat your demons, destroy that pain Errors exist to know what someone else could fall into

and it's not that it's bad, it could be worse What doesn't kill you makes you better

listen to me, I will be here watching your actions wherever you are

My favorite phrase from this song is: "don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning" (I just like how deep it sounds xD)

And that's all for now, I've never created a post here, I hope it's okay. Thanks for reading my crazy thoughts. Greetings!!

#deathduo #pissa #missasinfonia #missa #chayanne the egg #qsmp #philza #Youtube

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ghost-emoji-anon · 1 year

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hi! i'm not entirely sure how this is going to play out if i post something here and now, but i'm going to post it and see how it goes! it's for the call of duty fandom and audience, but hopefully whoever follows me here can engage with it as well. :)

right so, könig obviously has his sniper mask on at all times. sticks to himself and doesn't go out of his way to make friends. talks when he's being spoken to, etc. that sort of thing. that is until one day someone new is joining the team

he sees you. first thing he notices is the mask you wear and his interest in you went from 0 to 100 real quick. but he doesn't want to jump to conclusions, maybe you're wearing it because you just got off a recent mission before coming here.

but that all changed when he sees you and your mask on at all times. in and out of the battlefield. he notices your demeanor is different on the field and out of it. you remind him of himself sometimes, but you're a little more open to speaking to others than he is so he's sort of afraid to approach you. so he just silently admires you from afar.

you, obviously you, take notice of this giant man off in the back keeping to himself and no one around you ever says anything about it. you wonder why no one takes notices of könig, but you never bother asking anyone that. you just silently watch him from afar as well. neither of you catching the other watching.

but by some odd miracle, you two are paired up on a mission. you really don't know how that even happened but you're grateful for whoever is watching over you and glad you've gotten some opportunity to at least speak a few words to him.

what you expected was a silent man on a mission... what you got was the complete opposite. you can very well get used to this, because you were in the same boat. both of you grinning under the masks, neither of you seeing the others smile but could only tell just by looking into the others eyes.

that one simple eye contact was what sent you and könig a jolt of some sort of electricity and now the pair of you became inseparable.

the others on the team noticed how well you worked together and more often than not, you two were paired up. getting the job done quick and efficiently.

as the months came and went, you formed a sort of friendship that bordered onto something more.

down time was soent with him. he taught you simple words and phrases in German, you taught him your own. (whatever language you speak)

he shared his favorite foods from his homeland, you did the same.

very rarely would you two open up on your personal life, but it was starting to get to the point where you two would indulge the other on your past.

he told you about his hard time growing up, being bullied and the like.

you told him of your own insecurities.

each day was a anew experience with him and as the months continued to go by, you and him had gotten to the point where you would nap/sleep in each other's rooms.

and one day, the tension was so high between the two of you that you could no longer hide the one thing you kept from him

your face.

so you asked him to come by your room one. kept the lights low but just enough that he could still see you when you finally decided to take your own mask off.

he stops by and wonders what was going on

you tell him exactly what you were going to do and of course, he panics a little inside and reassures you that you don't have to do this. but you tell that it's something you want to do and that you felt like you can trust him with everything you have. all of you.

he nods in understanding and that's when you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding

slowly, you remove your mask. lifting it from your neck and up. your neck is exposed first. revealing the soft flesh of your skin and könig nearly chokes on air.

he's antsy. his fingers are lightly drumming across his thighs and he doesn't know what to do with himself at this very moment. but he lets you continue

his eyes are taking in everything and it nearly makes you nervous but it also fills you with this adrenaline

your chin is next then your lips

könig's throat is DRY

your nose and cheeks come into view and at this point, he doesn't know how he hsdnt passed out yet

and then finally

you reveal the rest of your face and könig is just staring

you're not sure how you should react to his staring but you almost think it's a bad idea until he mutters something in his native language

you know the word, you've heard him say it before and he told you what it means as well

he called you beautiful.

you nearly choke on your own breathing just from that one word alone

what you weren't expecting was for him to do the exact same thing. you never asked him to, you didn't say you expected him to do the same but he did

könig did it just for you. only you.

he didn't take his time, he just took off his mask like it was something he did with everyone. but that's how you knew that he could trust you with everything.

you both stared at each in awe. taking in each other and memorizing the lines, ridges and everything and keeping it within your memory for as long as you both drew breath

neither of you ever realized the two of you were getting closer and close, not until both of your breaths mingled with one another and you both shared a small, hesitant chaste kiss.

what felt like eternity was only a couple of seconds. both of you opening your eyes and giving each other a smile that only you two had the pleasure in finally seeing

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crabcollectorskykid · 1 year

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M!reader with a corpse husband like voice

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none? Well except how reader got his deep voice...and a bit ooc

Pronouns: he/him

Ft. Metkayina family & sully family (mostly metkayina)

SLIGHT, neteyam x reader

Both of your parents was from the metkayina clan and both of them were warriors but they sadly died protecting you and the clan

Ronal and tonowari took you in the family as if you were their son.

You were very happy but you barely talk, not really barely, you never actually talked to them at all.

You had to use hand signs to communicate with them. At first they didn't understand why you never really talked to them but once you "told" them that something happened in the past, they stopped you from saying more since it might be a topic you don't wanna talk about.

Aonung was very protective of you because of that reason, he would always keep an eye or bring you with him whenever he has to go somewhere. He always defend you from others whenever they mention something about you being quite or pestering you on why you were always quite. Not even his friends can tease you, only him can tease you, if someone else does it he will consider it as an insult.

Tsiyera is an angel towards you, she would always keep you company whenever aonung goes hunting. Always and I mean always brings you with her whenever she goes feed the ilus, aonung would always try to find an excuse to get you out of it.

Ronal was the most protective, forbids you from going outside the reef without aonung or Tsiyera. She always do daily check-ups on you. You're sick? She's there. You're injured? She's there. Someone is bullying you? The whole family is there-

Tonowari is in the middle of protectiveness. He will teach you about self defense, spear training,in rare times he lets you go outside the reef with him so he'll teach you about hunting. Yes, he won't let you go outside the reef without someone watching you.

When the sully arrived you were fascinated by how they look, they look more blue rather than teal. The sully noticed you after you pulled aonung by his ear when he tease them about their tail.

Once you heard the news about them living here you were quite excited to be friends with them, you weren't gonna teach them since you're not talkative. But you always follow them to see how they are progressing.

When you first spoke you accidentally hit your toe with a rock and yelled "Ow, that hurts" the gang was there and was completely suprised how your voice sounded. Lo'ak was the first one to break

"bro...YOU VOICE IS SO DEEP-" you giggled at the question he decided to say but the others started talking and questioning you so you were quite overwhelmed by the attention

Tsiyera noticing your discomfort she quickly told everyone to stop. "All of you stop, you are making him feel overwhelmed" everyone soon stopped talking, after they stopped you asked "is it really that deep?"

Aonung scoffed "is it really? Your voice is literally vibrating because of how deep is." Aonung said.

You build up more and more confidence about your voice and started speaking more, the gang was happy for you especially aonung and Tsiyera, they were happy that you started to appreciate your voice more.

Aonung would get so protective whenever you interacted with neteyam, he does not like the heart eyes neteyam would secretly give you whenever you look away.

When you first told them how your voice got so deep all of them screamed from shock.

"wait so the acid of your stomach builded up while you were sleeping and damage your vocal cords and now your voice is stuck like this" neteyam repeated, Tsiyera gasped and quickly went to hug your side "you must've been in so much pain, I'm so sorry you went through that"

You hugged Tsiyera gently and said "it's ok, it's all in the past there's nothing I can do. Besides I sound cool." Aonung put all the dots together and gasped "is that why you're afraid of sleeping, (___)?" You giggled and responded "yes, you and Tsiyera would hum me to sleep and then cuddle-" "SHUT-"

You,aonung,and Tsiyera decided to suprise tonowari and Ronal doing dinner about your voice.

"Baba, can you pass me that fruit" you said acting normal, at first tonowari didn't notice it "of course son, here....wait did you just-" all three of you laughed while Ronal and tonowari looked at you with shock, tonowari asked "how long have you been speaking?" "A few weeks ago baba-" "and you two didn't tell us?" "Wait ma-i told them not to tell that I spoke before because I was afraid you would see me different.."

Ronal softened and told you "my son, no matter how your voice sounds like,how you look,how you act, we will love you either way." She said "but would you care to tell us, why your voice is so deep?" You looked at Tsiyera and aonung as they both nodded, you sighed and told them.

Ronal covered her mouth while tonowari had a look of horror, "I can't believe you had to go through that-does it still hurt?" Ronal asked "a bit ma but I can handle-" "nonsense, I will make some tea to ease the pain" you watched as she quickly stood up and collect some ingredients, tonowari was at your side putting a hand on your shoulder "you are a strong and brave warrior going through the pain like that, I'm proud of you." After that sentence you smiled "thank you baba."

Needless to say the family got even more overprotective-/hj

Eat children

#avatar 2 #avatar imagine #metkayina #aonung #tsiyera #ronal #tonowari #avatar: the way of water #neteyam #lo'ak #neteyam x male reader #neteyam x reader

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hedgehog-moss · 1 year

Photo

Rooster update: he is a gentleman so far. He follows my hen everywhere at a polite and respectful distance, scanning the area for enemies. I’ve not seen him make any advances whatsoever, he doesn’t seem interested in becoming a father; either he’s too young, or still a bit stressed and disconcerted by his change of environment, or he doesn’t like Dru this way, who knows. Pourvu que ça dure...!

Maybe Dru attacked him the first time he tried something—he doesn’t seem afraid of her any more, but the first morning after he arrived, he barrelled past Dru when I opened the coop and ran away flailing his wings, with high-pitched incoherent clucking, as if he were being chased by a pack of wild dogs. Pandolf, my hen and I stood there perplexed and watched him disappear into the forest. Part of me wanted to yell “I didn’t even want you!! you’re free to go!” and go home to have breakfast, but I couldn’t let him commit suicide by fox on his first day, so I took Pan home (thinking maybe the rooster had been scared of him), took my hen under my arm and spent half an hour on a rooster hunt in the woods. Dru clucks in annoyance if you touch her comb, so I would occasionally tickle it and she’d kÔtkÔtkwÊk and sometimes we’d hear a timid kwêk? in response which helped me narrow down the rooster’s position.

We ended up finding him perched on a branch, quite high up. I poked him with a long stick and he grudgingly moved back inch by inch until he was low enough for me to go up on tiptoes and pluck him like a large fruit. Then I carried him home singing the ballad of Sir Robin. When danger reared its ugly head / he bravely turned his tail and fled—Dru actually seems glad for his company, but she doesn’t know that this anxious bird is supposed to guard her from predators.

Here’s our boldly brave sir Robin strutting gallantly (photo taken with zoom because if I come any closer he flees)

Well, Dru’s new coopmate is very good at being a rooster in one capacity and that is crowing. He starts bright and early and continues throughout the day at random times, a beautifully-enunciated cocorico (he’s french)—I quite like it! The walls of my house are thick enough that it doesn’t wake me up in the morning, and during the day it’s a pleasant addition to the soundscape.

I had lunch with the librarian today and told her all about the rooster, and how I probably won’t be able to keep him since I’ll never meet the recommended minimum amount of hens per rooster. With 2 hens I already have a dozen eggs a week and that’s more than enough for me (+ cats and dog who also enjoy eggs.) The librarian was Team Rooster and said I should get more hens and bring her the eggs. “I’ll find clients.” She was already picturing herself as the nexus of a flourishing library-based egg trade, but most people around here keep chickens so I don’t think the demand will be there.

I showed someone else a picture of my rooster at the grocery shop and she exclaimed “He’s very decorative!” which I think would have made my rooster fluff up with pride. It’s the most validating thing you can say to a male bird. After I summarised the situation, my interlocutor came to the conclusion that I should give him to the librarian so he can become the new library pet. I said “He’ll make a mess” and she said “We can put sawdust on the ground like in old-school cafés...” But then she added that her grandchildren are a bit scared of roosters since they know they can be mean, and they might become afraid of going to the library. We agreed that my rooster shouldn’t be an obstacle to childhood literacy.

#crawling along #i'm glad he's not a nuisance (so far)!#i think he's too nervous about all these new animals he's meeting to remember his rooster duties #aside from strutting and crowing he's got that covered

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sunflower1experiment · 6 months

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Fool’s gold

I assumed it to be strange, the journalist was a nosy one. Always asking questions, why did I come here, she already knew my background as is: What’s the point of prying further!?

Herbalist; |Name| Praia, It was complicated on my end with the job I had to help the sick with just herbs was different, difficult. Even the black lung plagued the country with its rounds, just feeding people calming herbs to calm the pain wasn’t enough for the inevitable death so I made sure to give them those before passing.

Writing down their signature consent, that way if anyone accused me I could show my proof: yet it never calmed my nerves seeing someone die, and I could not stop it. So I called myself the painless death, people won’t suffer as long as I’m able to calm them down.

But when Norton and I first met it was as if he held respect for me, when even he knew that I loathed myself. He told me, “Life happens, people die. Best to move on.” Such a statement.

As if he was so used to seeing death. My inner self as a child was coming back to haunt me, saying he was right and though I may not have had a bad childhood, sometimes I relish in what my parents said about me. ‘My little herbal remedy!’

Is that why?

I get up weakly, then gasp at the sight. Running towards Alice, she falls forward in my arms and I immediately grab a few herbs, Ashwagandha: scientific name for it but in other cases its used as a powder to wake up from when drinking warm milk or water. She didn’t wake up immediately but showed signs to be conscious.

Looking up to the perpetrator my eyes widen, “Nort….”

My body freezes when the pickaxe flies past me, hitting the dirt but without even thinking about my surroundings I ran. Grasping for whatever reason to not believe it was him, poor Alice she was abruptly taken by me and we’re both stumbling around this curse of a woods.

Suddenly she pushes me back and we both scream as he charges past. Alice gasps would fill my ears while my grunts turn into gasps of horror as Norton hobbles towards me. I get up, backing away to avoid him.

However, when I try to leave the man’s larger hand grabs my face and he leans in. A shaky sigh leaves my lips as he kept all his focus onto me. My breathing starts to falter while he began rubbing his thumb over it slowly.

A raspy chuckle erupts from him when he saw how I react, he presses his lips onto mine. My eyes widen, his iron grip pulling me close as I try to keep the space between us, once we pull back there was a moment of soft breathing.

“You’re the woman that calmed the pain on my eye…” he sets the pickaxe down, hugging me in the process. “How could I not recognize you?”

“Norton, what’s happening?”

He walks me to a mirror in the hut, I look at the mirror in silence until he wraps a hand around my neck and his face came to view. “To you I look scary but to me…you’re normal. And I can’t help but want to chase you..”

We look at each other until he lets my neck go. “Come on.” Following behind him I start to wonder where Alice went…

—

“Woah.” I gasp, then get up. Only to stop when Norton’s soft whines fill my ears, laying back with a relieving smile. My hands reach over absentmindedly and I stroke his head. “It was just a dream, that was very silly of me to be afraid of you my sweet Prospector.”

I gave him a small kiss on the cheek then go back to sleep.

#x black reader #reader is gender neutral #reader is any race #idv norton x reader #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell #idv x reader

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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months

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Yandere Baki Short Stories: Paparazzi

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Idol! Afab Reader

Author’s note: this is a social experiment and a bit different than what I normally write. If it takes off, I’ll write another part to it

Buy me a coffee? 💕

“Cause you know that, baby, I… I’m your biggest fan, I’ll follow you until you love me.”

Slam! Hanayama slammed the door open when he finally made it up to his room. His eyes nervously glanced around to make sure none of his subordinates followed him here.

Once he noticed no one was around, he scurried into his room and quietly shut the door behind him.

Hanayama Kaoru had a secret, the type of secret he’d kill anyone if they found out. Hanayama was a wota and he was obsessed with a pop idol by the name of (your name).

And today, he was able to get Kizaki to buy her latest merch drop… a poster. Hanayama carefully unwrapped the cling wrap off the poster so his eyes could admire the excellent photo of his oshi. She was so pretty…

Hanayama glanced at his bedroom walls that were covered in postures and various collectible merch. He didn’t have any wall space but he hasn’t put any postures on the ceiling so that should work. Honestly, that made it even better.

Hanayama grabbed some tape off his dresser and got to work. The posture now hung on his ceiling so he could admire his idol’s magnificence before he went to sleep and when he woke up. Perfect.

Hanayama flopped onto his bed, his arms clutched the body pillow of (your name) in his arms. He’s had the biggest crush on her since high school…

Hanayama closed his eyes and reminenced the moment he first heard her music when he was younger… it was when one of his classmates loaned him their ear buds and her music played. (Your name) wasn’t very big yet, she just came onto the pop scene. But her voice was what drew him in.

Hanayama rushed home that day and told Kizaki to buy him (your name)‘s CDs. That was the start of his journey of being her biggest fan.

Now Hanayama was 25. He tried to have a few relationships but he couldn’t tear away from his idol. Not even when he bedded other women. (Your name) was always on his mind. Hanayama felt like he was being disloyal to her… even though (your name) probably didn’t even know his existence.

Hanayama wanted her more than anything. Despite his stoic exterior, he was full of emotions… but only for his idol and his handful of friends.

Hanayama shot upright in his bed in realization. He almost missed her interview today! Today, they were going to get (your name) to talk about her ideal man and Hanayama could not miss it. And how would he know that? That’s because Hanayama paid this specific interview station to ask his question because he had submitted it for years. He need to know…

Hanayama turned his tv on, his large body scrunched up into a ball. His arms held the body pillow close to his form for comfort. He was a bit afraid of what she’d say… what if he didn’t meet those standards? Would he be able to move on and live a normal life?

Hanayama silently watched the interview. His eyes sparkled as he watched the young woman smile and wave into the camera, her soft voice soothed him… how could someone be so pretty?

“Despite being a foreigner, you’ve really made a name for yourself, miss (your name)!” The interviewer beamed at the young idol, her smile never left her face.

“I couldn’t have gotten this far without my fans.” Hanayama almost squealed in excitement when she made a little finger heart to the camera. She was so cute! How could someone be so cute?

“Now this is a long awaited question for you, miss (your name).” The interviewer smiled at the young woman. “One your number one fan has been dying to know.”

(Your name) giggled, which made Hanayama’s heart soar. This was it! He would finally have his answer soon…

“And what do they want to know?” (Your name) smiled ever so sweetly, she bat her eyelashes a bit. Hanayama nearly fainted on the spot.

“What is your ideal man, miss (your name)?” The interviewer asked, which made (your name)’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh wow… I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that on such a big platform.” Hanayama blushed at how flustered (your name) was. Gosh his idol was so cute…

(Your name) took in a deep breath. “I like a man who is well dressed and preferably taller than me…” (Your name) smiled sheepishly before she continued, “I think id like them to be strong to, I’d like to be carried like a princess.”

Hanayama stopped breathing, his whole body trembled. Well dressed, tall, and strong? That was him… he was her type.

“Carried like a princess?!” The interviewer laughed which only made (your name) more flustered.

“I always dreamed of that… I’d like to be taken care of like a dainty little doll.”

Hanayama rose up from his bed and pumped his fist in the air. His body filled with excitement. He was her type!

Hanayama would care for her and carry her around everywhere if she asked! Whatever she wanted-

Hanayama turned his head to see Kizaki standing in the door way. His right hand man cleared his throat.

“I’m so sorry to bother… whatever this is but you have a letter from the venue (your name) is performing at-“ Kizaki sighed when the letter was snatched out of his hand. Hanayama was such a child sometimes… despite him being a grown man now.

Hanayama opened the envelope and smiled at its contents. He had successfully booked the entire VIP section… which would keep his identity a secret.

“I heard you’ll be dropping new merch tonight. What are you going to be dropping today?” The interviewer draw Hanayama’s attention back on the screen. New merch?

“It’s some limited edition photo cards!” (Your name) smiled at the interviewer. “It’s just a few pictures of me and my group.”

Hanayama turned to Kizaki who sighed. Kizaki could tell by Hanayama’s face that he wanted that book.

Kizaki nervously glanced around Hanayama’s room. Where was he even going to put it?

Hanayama continued to stare at Kizaki until the man bowed in defeat. It was time to make a trip to the store.

“Alright… I’ll go get it.” Kizaki then left Hanayama to his own devices. The yakuza boss turned his attention fully back into the tv.

Hanayama reached a finger out to touch (your name)’s face. What he wouldn’t give to finally touch her in real life…

This was going to be the first time he’d be able to see her in person… he was so excited to see her.

He could not wait…

“Here for the latest drop? I saved you a set, specifically just of (your name). ” The store manager asked Kizaki, which made the older man sigh. The manager chuckled. “You’re such a great dad. You’ve been here consistently for over ten years. Your son must be a huge fan!”

More like a huge pain in the- Kizaki shook that thought from his head. Hanayama was a great leader, he was just a bit… odd when it came to this particular woman. Perhaps that was just Hanayama’s generation of being obsessed with celebrities. It hurt Kizaki’s head to think about it.

“He is…” The manager nodded and handed Kizaki the set of photo cards.

“Well he must be grateful to have you! Please enjoy.” Kizaki nodded stiffly. He hated this so much… “I’ll see you next week for the next drop!l

Kizaki hated that everyone in this store knew who he was. Hanayama was lucky Kizaki looked like a civilian. Otherwise they’d be in a mess if people were aware they were yakuza.

“Have a great day! See you next week!”

Kizaki grumbled a bit. This was an abuse of power… He deserved a raise.

Hanayama nervously sat in the VIP. He had it all blocked off so no one could see him other than (your name) and her group from the main stage.

He nervously fiddled with the backstage pass around his neck as well as the jacket to his white suit. Hanayama made sure to wear one of his best suits, no matter how tempted he was to wear merch. Hanayama had to maintain his ‘cool’ image despite the raging fan from within.

Hanayama adjusted his glasses, a round hand fan tightly clenched in his hand with (your name)’s smiling face on it. This was the smallest pleasure he’d allow himself…

Hanayama’s breath hitched when he saw (your name) get onto stage with her group, her smiled looked even more beautiful in person…

Hanayama watched her start to perform, his complete attention on her jovial form. Hanayama could tell she enjoyed what she did for a living… it’s another reason why he adored her so much.

Hanayama held out his palm and imagined her dancing on his palm. His body relaxed at that thought. He wished they could be together so desperately but their worlds were so very different…

Hanayama froze when (your name) made her way over towards the VIP, his heart drummed in his chest when their eyes locked on one another. Hanayama stood up and automatically went towards the stage. (Your name)’s presence was magnetic.

The world felt as if it stopped when her entire attention was on him while she sung and danced. It was just him and her despite the sold out stadium… him and his idol.

Hanayama flipped over the fan to show off the back of it that said, “will you be my onee-chan?”

(Your name) paused for a second, but then she gave him a smile so sweet that it could make teeth rot. Her hand went up and gave him a finger heart.

Hanayama fell to his knees when she sauntered away to continue her performance. His hand clutched his heart to try to calm the drumming of her heart that begged to burst from his chest to dance with her. His cheeks burned like a fire from how hot they were.

(Your name) was the only woman in the world who had such an effect on the normally stoic man.

After a decade, he finally was able to see his idol in real life… and it was more magical than he could have ever imagined.

Soon… he’d get to speak with her.

(Your name) adjusted her appearance in the mirror of her dressing room. Her body trembled a bit in anxiousness.

When they told her that her number on fan had rented out the entire VIP section, she had assumed they were an older woman or man… not a crime boss.

(Your name) shivered at how scary he was. His face was littered in scars and he was as big as a barn. She had snuck a glance at the receipt in her manager’s hand and found out his name was Hanayama Kaoru and he was twenty five years old.

Despite his mature appearance, he was a year younger than her, which fascinated her a bit. Hanayama seemed like such a no nonsense man… why on earth was he here to see her perform?

“(Your name), your number one fan is here.” (Your name) tried her best not to role her eyes at the sarcasm one of her group members exuded.

(Your name) took in a deep breath and put on her game face. It was fine… she could do this.

(Your name) rose from the vanity chair to go greet Hanayama. The giant man awkwardly stood outside the room, he looked so out of place that it was almost comical.

“Hello, are you Hanayama?” (Your name) smiled at him, his red cheeks and ears made him slightly endearing. He was kind of cute in a way…

Hanayama bent down a bit until he was her height, his large hand scooped up hers and gave the back of her knuckles a tender kiss.

“My name is Hanayama Kaoru,” Hanayama looked up, his obsidian eyes now visible since she was up close. “And I’m your biggest fan.”

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flowerandblood · 6 months

Text

The Prince and The Fox (3)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, mention of sexual abuse, violence, trauma ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned. Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist. Song used in this chapter: Don't Bring Me Down by Electric Light Orchestra.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

From that day on, they both took off their earphones when they stood together at the bus stop. Her presence had apparently stopped being awkward for him and he had become addicted to listening to Kajagoogoo, although he admitted it reluctantly.

"They have a terrible band name, but that bass is fucking awesome. They got really into my head and it's good to listen to them in the background while doing something else at the same time." He muttered, without looking at her, scrolling something on his phone.

She knew this was his way of distracting himself from the stress of the conversation, that he wasn't good at it and pretended to be indifferent, his lips tightened.

Since the whole thing reached the headmaster of the school the matter became very serious and Cregan was not laughing anymore. The headmaster became very concerned about the whole situation and even though it was not the school where the sexual abuse took place, bullying did.

On the corridor cameras, Cregan could be seen knocking her over by propping her up with his leg, as one of his buddies scratched the word 'liar' with his key on her locker.

Although these were not crimes for which you could go to jail, the principal invited her to an interview accompanied by the school psychologist. The headmaster asked her if she wanted someone to accompany her during this talk and she said without thinking: Aemond.

She surprised him when she asked him to go with her to his office, he was the only one to witness it all and she was afraid to be there alone. He just nodded and answered nothing, clicking something on his phone, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

They went there together.

The director approached the matter with understanding and quoted to her what he had heard the day before from Aemond.

"Your colleague told me that he witnessed the incident and that there is video footage of what happened. I also know that Cregan's classmates nag you a lot because they prefer to believe him. The psychologist and I thought that, if you agree, we would give his class some shock therapy and show them the part of the video that shows him hurting you.

Of course, we will only do this if you agree, however, we believe that if Mr Stark loses his credibility, you will regain your composure and be able to focus on your education rather than the unpleasant incidents you continue to face from them. We know that the footage shows nothing of which you would be ashamed, nor of course your exposed body." He concluded, glancing uncertainly at the lady psychologist.

She didn't know what to say, she could feel her heart pounding hard.

"Think it over calmly. It's just a suggestion and you don't have to do it. We want to help you and we know it's hard for you." Said the psychologist in a soft, calm voice.

She looked apprehensively at Aemond, who was staring at her out of the corner of his eye with his lips tightened, himself clearly not sure what he was thinking.

"It's your decision. You don't have to do it. But I think this bugger deserves it. He walks around the school like a king, he thinks you don't have the guts to show it. That you'll be embarrassed when he's the one who should be ashamed of himself." He said lowly, and she thought with pain that he was right.

Why should he spread rumours about her, lie that she wanted this?

"Fine." She mumbled, the headmaster sighed quietly.

"Do you want to be there when we show them this?" He asked lowly, and she shook her head quickly.

"No."

She delivered an excerpt of the video to the director that next day. He and the lady psychologist watched it to make sure that the video would not portray her in a negative light and make matters worse, but what they saw left no illusions.

She knew that the headmaster would go to Cregan's class with the psychologist at their advisory class and throughout the day she felt like she was going to die, her whole body was trembling, she hadn't eaten anything and she was cold.

As she sat during one of the breaks outside the classroom, staring dully at the floor Aemond sat down next to her and sighed, taking out of his pocket her favourite chocolate bar, Milkyway, which he must have bought from the school vending machine. She looked at him gratefully and shook her head.

"Have you eaten anything today?" He asked lowly and she shook her head again, lowering her gaze.

"I won't swallow anything. My stomach has been hurting since this morning."

"Hmm."

They sat side by side like that, their shoulders and knees touching, not speaking until the bell rang announcing that the break was over.

They sat down to their benches, the teacher came in, but she couldn't concentrate on what he was saying, terrified.

Everyone was watching it now.

She covered her face with her hands, thinking that she had made a mistake, that it would get worse.

However, to her surprise, as she walked out of the classroom she was approached by several people from his class who had also thrown unpleasant comments at her earlier, including his buddy, who shouted to her and Aemond at the time whether they were going to go fuck.

They stood for a moment as if they didn't know what to say.

"Hi. We saw the video. I…fuck." Said the boy, scratching his brow with his thumb, pale, embarrassed, horrified. "I…I really believed him. I swear to you I would never have suspected he was capable of such a thing. When I watched you pull away from him and he wouldn't let you go…fuck, a red light should have lit up in my head earlier as he said he was going to fuck you, but I thought, I don't know, that's what you want, that you're into him, not that…"

He stammered, all red, she could see he was barely holding back tears. He shrugged his shoulders.

"And yet I acted like a stupid piece of shit to you. Then, after all of that. I believed my mate, I thought I knew him." He said without looking at her, his other colleagues nodding.

"We're ashamed. He walked around talking about it as if nothing had happened, as if it was just your imagination. He cried in class as the principal came in and said what he was going to show us. I think he realised he was going to lose a lot of friends."

She looked at them all with her heart beating hard, scared and ashamed at the same time, not knowing what she should say to them.

Most of all, however, she felt relieved.

They had finally left her alone.

If she could consider that something good had come out of all this, it was certainly her relationship with Aemond. They only talked on the bus or while waiting for him at the bus stop, usually about school, teachers, homework, or music.

He played her songs on his earphones when she asked him if he could recommend something new to her, however, he always listened to Kajagoogoo with her on the way to school.

She liked the fact that this had already become their routine, something they shared, proof that they had established a bond, this time unforced, desired from both sides.

She found to her surprise that he was actually a very sensitive, calm man.

She really liked him.

Helaena was very concerned about all that had happened, and wrote to her often to find out how she was feeling. She didn't want to impose on her and didn't visit her at home.

However, one day she asked if she would like to stay with her for the night and sleep in her room, talk about everything that was on her mind and then watch Shrek together or another cartoon they loved as children.

She thought it was a good idea.

She arrived at the appointed time in the evening, Alicent opened the door, smiling warmly and embracing her.

Since the situation with Cregan it seemed that their families had become closer, her parents were extremely grateful to Aemond for what he had done and always greeted him when they saw him on the street or in the shop, embarrassing him.

She saw Helaena run out from over her shoulder and wave to her, holding two bags of their favourite Chips and a carton of orange juice.

Walking towards the stairs she swallowed loudly as she saw the exit to the garden, feeling an unpleasant tightening in her pit and a cold sweat on her back.

She squealed when suddenly Vhagar ran out at them from upstairs, wagging her tail and barking, happy that they had a visitor, almost knocking her over.

"Vhagar!" She heard his impatient, low voice. "Come back here! Immediately."

Vhagar ran up to him, looking at him with her big, pleading black eyes, and he sighed as he stroked her fur. She smiled at him as she passed him, they threw each other a brief, shy 'hi' before she disappeared with Helaena into her room.

Although she didn't want to at first, she felt she had to get it out of her, that she couldn't take it anymore, that it was poisoning her from the inside.

They were both sitting in their pyjamas, T-shirts and shorts on her carpet, a bowl full of crisps and two glasses full of juice between them.

"At first when he touched my thigh I thought − gee, maybe he really likes me that much that he can't stop, I don't know. I felt, I sensed something was wrong and I'm mad that I didn't push him away then! I went outside with him because I thought maybe I don't know, he wants to sit with me in an embrace, stroke me, hold my hand, kiss me. And when he slipped his hand under my dress, when he squeezed me, when he wouldn't let me move or pull away I felt…" She stammered, feeling her voice break, her throat tighten, tears gather in her eyes.

"…God, I just felt that I was very afraid of him, that it was very bad and terrible, that I didn't want it, that he was hurting me, that it was such a bad touch, I don't know how to describe it." She mumbled, Helaena looking at her with her lips slightly parted, her eyebrows arched in pain, her light hair tied up in a bun.

"It felt like I couldn't breathe, it felt like I wanted to scream, like someone was skinning me, it's this feeling of sudden panic, but also something else, like deep in your lower abdomen, this all-consuming fear and terror, like the air is stuck in your throat and you can't catch your breath." She muttered quickly, shaking her head, refusing to let the tears flow, her lips tightening.

"I don't know how he can think it's nothing. To live with the fact that I asked him to stop and he didn't." She shrugged her shoulders, Helaena got up and sat beside her, embracing her, letting her lie on her thighs.

She burst into tears when she started to stroke her head, when she told her that it wasn't her fault and that no one blamed her, that just because she hadn't pushed him away at first didn't mean he had the right to do what he did, that he had done it deliberately and premeditatedly, that no meant no.

She shuddered and lifted her gaze when she heard movement near her room, as if someone had moved out of place, and then the quiet sound of a door opening and closing.

Was he listening to what she was talking about? Was he eavesdropping on them?

She pressed her lips together, lowering her head, feeling ashamed.

She said she would go to the toilet to bring herself to order, but in fact she went to his door, hearing from it the song he had shown her a few days before, 'Don't Bring Me Down' played by the Electric Light Orchestra.

She knocked loudly and heard that after a moment the music quieted, someone's footsteps on the other side.

He opened the door and looked at her in surprise, involuntarily glancing down at her bare legs and then at her face again, swallowing loudly.

"Were you eavesdropping?" She asked reproachfully.

He pressed his lips together, looking away.

"Yeah. I'm sorry." He said low with sincere regret. "I wanted to know how you were feeling. How you're coping with it."

"Can't you just ask me?" She said regretfully, looking at him with her eyebrows arched in pain, feeling the tears under her eyelids again, emotionally unhinged from what she had recounted.

He looked at her surprised, she could see that he was uncomfortable. He let out a loud breath.

"I'm not good at this. At talking. I didn't know if I should ask. Whether it was the right thing to do. I don't know what more I could say." He muttered, shrugging his shoulders, looking everywhere but at her.

"You can ask me anything you want. I trust you." She said softly, and he swallowed loudly, as if for some reason her words caused him pain, as if he wanted to say something more, as if he had something on the tip of his tongue.

She waited patiently for him to pull himself together, for him to think through what he wanted to say. He looked at her.

"I hated you all these years. I hated you because I saw you as a person who does everything for show. For show you baked me cakes to make you feel good about yourself, for show you came here and apologised to me, always loud, always first everywhere, you always had to have your opinion about everything." He said low and fast, and she felt the cold sweat on her back and the frighteningly strong pounding of her heart as she looked at him in disbelief.

"When I heard what Cregan said to his mates I thought I should warn you. To say: be careful, he's planning something more, he's talking about you to his mates as if you were an object. But I didn't. Because I didn't like you." He muttered and she saw his lower lip tremble, his healthy eye red, his breath hitched.

"If I told you, it wouldn't have happened. Do you know how I have you saved on my phone?" He asked in a trembling voice, a single tear running down his cheek.

"Foxy."

She felt tear after tear begin to run down her face, she drew in air loudly feeling tightness in her throat, she felt like someone was tearing her heart from the inside out, a strange, broken sound came from her chest.

"Please, hug me." She mumbled so pitifully that his face contorted in a grimace of pain and regret, he pulled her to him instantly and she clamped her hands on the material of his Tshirt, sobbing loudly, his arms wrapped around her tightly on each side.

"− I'm sorry −" He muttered in a low, hoarse, breaking voice. "− I'm sorry −"

She lifted her gaze to him, trying to catch her breath, and he lowered his head to look at her, their faces almost touching, their hot breaths surrounding their skin.

She felt something strange looking at him so closely, she thought he had a lovely eye colour, that he had fine cheekbones, a pleasing nose and forehead. Something changed in his gaze when he noticed that she glanced at his lips and found them surprisingly full, they looked soft, slightly parted in his accelerated breathing.

She felt his body tense up, felt his fingers clench tighter on her back. All she could hear was the loud pounding of her heart and their breaths, nothing more.

"− wanna kiss? −" She heard him whisper, as if it was a kind of casual proposal, as if he was asking her if she felt like eating something or going for a walk.

She swallowed loudly, glancing at him again, and simply nodded.

She didn't have time to take another breath and his warm, soft lips were already on hers, she felt his hand on the back of her neck which drew her close, making his job easier, he sighed as if with some kind of relief.

She had never suspected that kisses were so wet and sticky, so noisy, but she didn't want him to stop, so she stroked his scarred cheek with her hand, closing her eyes, mimicking his movements, brushing her lips against his with a loud click.

She tightened her second hand in his short, light hair, feeling the heat in her lower abdomen, feeling the pulsation between her thighs, his lips wonderfully soft, moist and firm, he brushed and sucked her fleshy skin, their breaths loud and drawn out.

"− fuck −" He growled out between one loud click of saliva and the next, panting along with her, their kisses increasingly deep, intimate, passionate and wet.

They pulled away from each other suddenly, breathing as if they had run a marathon, looking at each other in disbelief.

"− I − are you all right? −" He mumbled, his healthy eye wide open in panic.

She just nodded, feeling that she looked just like him. She moved away from him and he let her go immediately, running his hand over his mouth and chin in a gesture of disbelief.

"− I − fuck −" He muttered and they both gasped when they heard the sound of the door opening, Helaena leaned her head out, clearly worried that she hadn't been back for so long.

"− are you okay? −" She asked loudly, surprised, and she nodded, looking up at him with her heart pounding like mad, swallowing hard.

"− y-yes − I − I am coming −" She muttered and ran towards her, Helaena smiled at her and closed the door behind her.

She said she had already found Shrek online on her laptop and everything was ready to watch. She smiled and sat down on her bed next to her, trying to focus on what she was seeing, but her thoughts, as well as her heart, were with someone else, a few rooms away.

They kissed.

Good God.

An excellent start to a friendly relationship indeed.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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trans-eddie · 2 years

Text

Steve’s favorite color is yellow.

He’s given a lot of thought to his favorite color. It’s one of those things people always ask, from your very first interactions on the playground. When he was a child, it was easy; blue, because that was the normal color for boys.

When he got a little older, “normal” was no longer good enough. Tommy H told him that “normal” was boring, and didn’t stand out. If he wanted to become a Popular kid, he needed to stand out as much as he could.

Steve wanted to stand out. He wanted people to look at him, so that his parents might see how popular he was, and realize he was someone worth paying attention to.

“You need a strong favorite color.” Tommy had told him.

In middle school, Steve decided his favorite color was red. Red caught people’s eyes, red felt powerful, red got Tommy’s approval.

But his favorite color being red did not make his parents look at him, even as he graduated and moved on to high school with a buzzing reputation and all the popularity he could have dreamed of.

In high school, Steve’s parents stopped coming around. Their vacations and business trips took longer and longer, and eventually, they stopped coming home altogether.

And the thing was, he didn’t really care all that much about the color red. When he lost the title of King, when he stopped caring about being popular, when he hated who he had been and couldn’t figure out who he wanted to be, and gave up any hope of his parents ever giving him any kind of positive attention, Steve‘s favorite color stopped being red.

He never did learn how to stop masking, though. Favorite colors, favorite movies, music preferences, they all tie into those masks, into the person you present to the world. A little adrift, Steve lost sight of any person he wanted to be, and all those things he maintained for the sake of a mask started to slip away.

“I’m worried I might not be a real person in here underneath it all,” He had told Robin once in the middle of a drive, spiraling about the void he encountered when he tried to dredge up any of his own opinions. “I feel like if no one is telling me what to do or like, or I’m not trying to meet their expectations, then I don’t know anything about myself.”

And she had calmed him down in her own awkward way, patting his shoulder like she was afraid the touch would tip him over the edge, smile a bit manic because she had no idea what to do when the driver of the car was currently bawling like a baby (her words, and a little exaggerated at that, he was tearing up at best.)

He had eventually pulled over, and she had stared him down, and rattled off a bunch of personal questions. He could find answers for none of them.

“So find them.” She’d said. “Find the things you like, what makes you happy. Don’t listen to anyone else about it, don’t think about what they want. Maybe start simple? Like your favorite color.”

So he’d tried. He’d thought, maybe it was red after all? The color of Max’s hair. Or maybe blue, because it made him think of Dustin’s ridiculous hat. Maybe green, because it was the color of spring and new things, or maybe pink, because it was pretty.

He felt lost in a sea of choices, all surrounding the one, simple, basic, childhood question most children have an answer to by the time they go to school.

Then in walked Eddie Munson.

Eddie changed a lot about his life. He hadn’t expected him to, had sort of expected him to be a blip in his radar; but Eddie is incapable of existing in the peripherals. He sauntered in with the electrifying energy of a leading man on stage, even as he cowered in a boat shed scared out of his mind, and Steve had been unable to look away.

If Robin had asked him about things he liked in the months that followed, he would have been able to confidently say Eddie Munson was among them, and wasn't that a kicker?

It was just that, Eddie was capable of walking into a room and immediately projecting every single thing about himself and what he liked into the space. You couldn’t get away from the impression of exactly who Eddie was just by the very nature of his existence.

Steve wished he were like that.

Wished he could be so self confident that he could decide what he liked without a care for what others think or how they judge him, wished he could wear it as proudly as Eddie did the patches on his vest.

(The same vest Steve still hadn’t returned.)

But he hadn’t just stolen the vest; it had been somewhat of a trade off. He had thrown his sweater at Eddie’s head shortly before diving to the depths of Lover’s Lake, only for it to never be seen again. Part of him had assumed it had just gotten swallowed up when the gate had ruptured through Hawkins.

Then Eddie had walked through the doors of the Family Video, big, dark eyes all wide and his hair piled up on his head, wearing the bright yellow of Steve’s sweater.

Steve had short circuited. Upon reboot, his first thought was, for some reason, It’s yellow. My favorite color is yellow. Yellow yellow yeLLOW YELLOW!

The second was, I like him wearing my things.

The third was, Oh. I like Eddie.

So at age twenty, Steve Harrington knows two whole things about himself: he likes Eddie Munson, and his favorite color is yellow.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #long post #fic

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