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gallusrostromegalus · 2 days

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AEIWAM ask: if my Kenpachi Count is correct, Gosuke Kiganjo might have been the previous captain of the 11th that Zaraki killed to get his job. Is that the case? How many problems did losing that co-conspirator cause for Aizen? And how much of a grudge did he hold for the big unkillable brute?

(With Reference to This Post and This One) It started with a pair of oranges.

---

It was Monday, November 11th, and like every November 11th, there was a ruckus coming from the 11th division. It was a faint noise largely obscured by distance and the windows that had been closed against the early winter cold, but it was still present as Now-Captain Sosuke Aizen reorganized Former Captain Hirako's office into his own.

He was luxuriating in the task. It was something he'd looked forward to for a long time- getting rid of the complex musical speakers that droned the worst assemblage of noises that apparently qualified as music, and finally installing a proper filing system in it's place was filling Aizen with a profound satisfaction that he assumed was an overture to his inevitable victory.

The way everyone was pointedly referring to him as Captain Aizen because they were trying to memorize the title tickled him a bit too. Perhaps it was vain of him to enjoy it so much but... well, the little theatrical dance of pretending to pretend he wasn't grimacing and playing up the act of Putting On A Brave Face, only for whoever was speaking to try to reassure him that everything would work out, that he was being so brave, and you don't have to do this yourself-

"Oh no, I don't think I could stand leaving it to anyone else!" He'd respond, and the whispers of how Brave and Dutiful and Humble he was slithered through the division...

...An actor can hardly be faulted for enjoying the adulation of the crowd.

"Hey Bos- uh, Captain!" A boy's voice called behind him.

Of course, it helped that Aizen had been blessed with such a stellar supporting actor.

"Can you help me?" now-Lieutenant Gin Ichimaru asked, tugging on Aizen's Haori for his attention like a normal child, something the boy had learned was enormously charming of him. "-I can't get this thing to stay on my arm." he explained, holding up Aizen's old Lieutenant's badge, the slightly oversized sleeves of his Kosode falling back to reveal his toothpick-thin arms.

"Oh dear. That' won't fit you for a few years yet, will it Gin?" Aizen smiled, patting the boys head and kneeling down, tying it one way, failing, trying another, failing again, giving an enormously defeated sigh, going over to Hira- No, HIS desk now! his desk and rifling through the drawers, and came back with a Safety Pin to hold the badge in place.

"...There!" he beamed, patting Gin's shoulder when the badge didn't slide off his scrawny arm. "-Just don't tell Yamamoto-sama!"

Aizen then turned to look over his shoulder down the hall, where no fewer than a dozen faces peeking out of doors and around corners to watch the scene, and held a finger up to his lips with a small wink. The heads vanished with small gasps, charmed chuckles and a few high-pitched teakettle-like outbursts Gin had once aptly described as "Squeeing".

Scene over and Audience satisfied, Aizen closed the figurative curtains and literal door. Suigetsu pinged softly, Illusion activating- anyone listening in wouldn't quite be able to make out the words, but walk away confident that they were only discussing Division Business.

"You're in a good mood!" Gin grinned up at him, noting Suigetsu's call and the invitation to speak freely. "Though I guess it's not a surprise. It's been a very successful week for you!"

Aizen shrugged, just a little bit smug. "I am allowed to enjoy my laurels once in a while, I think."

Gin laughed, and hopped up to sit on the desk, kicking his feet over the footwell as he fished some oranges he'd taken from the commisary out of his pockets. "Speaking of people who have had very... intense weeks, where's old blind bones?"

"Captain Tousen actually insisted on attending the 11th Division Tryouts, even though both Ukitake and Kyorako offered to go in his place so he could rest!" Aizen said, taking one orange for now and another for later- he'd like to have to work through lunch, he was now so burdened with responsibility, a fun little scene he was workshopping in the back of his head. "...I suppose the poor bastard still regards Kiganjo as his responsibility."

"Hm." Gin nodded, mouth full of orange, spiral peel on the desk beside him. Aizen nodded at the peel and pointed at the trash can behind the boy.

"Sorry, Lord Aizen. That might be-' he swallowed, and tossed the peel over his shoulder and into the bin. '-but it could also be tactical. Unohana-taicho attends every year and within arm's reach of her might be the safest place for him right now. Be a shame if he had a turn, you know?"

"It's a damn shame that Kiganjo hasn't had one." Aizen grumbled.

"Yeah I was sure the Menos invasion would be enough to do him and the Loud Idiot from the tenth in." Gin sulked. "Oh well, I suppose it's good we had a trial run- now we know we gotta really ramp up production of Menos."

"Fortune was on our side in that respect." Aizen agreed, examining his first orange for the best place to begin peeling. There was an art to it, and the practice helped maintain his skills. "Maybe fortune will smile upon us again and Kiganjo will fall to some idiot at the tryouts."

He had just found the perfect place to begin when the ambient reiatsu of the Seireitei suddenly shuddered and bowed, like he was standing inside a rubber balloon and could make out the silhouette of someone approaching with a hatpin. Aizen reflexively jammed the orange in his pocket with it's companion as his head swiveled north like an owl. The incoming sharp point of reiatsu approached at an alarming speed-

BANG!

Whatever it was met the outer wall of the Seireitei. To Aizen's Horror, did not slow down. It was however now accompanied by successive crashes that seemed to be getting closer-

BANG!

THUNK!

Aizen ran out the door, and slid a bit on the wood floors as whatever it was suddenly flew over the 5th division and made impact deep into the relatively soft earth of the training grounds.

"What the-?" He asked glasses askew not with practiced effort but genuine bewilderment. It took a moment to recognize the massive object now embedded upside-down in the middle of the courtyard, because Aizen had only ever seen it rightside up, and firmly bolted in place. "-Is. Is that the North Gate?" he sputtered, the feeling of surprise now turning into something bordering on Genuine alarm.

"I think that's Fortune's idea of a smile." Gin winced. "We uh... We should probably hoof it to the 11th."

"What?" Aizen repeated, genuinely surprised. "Why?"

Gin pointed in the direction of the 11th, and Aizen sluggishly followed his gesture-

CRACK!!

The outburst of reiatsu was so explosive it generated it's own superbolt of lightning- though whether it was the result of ionization down from the clouds, or worse- came up from the ground, he wasn't sure.

"...Oh." He paled, then steeled himself, clenching fists and inhaling. "LISTEN UP!" he barked to be heard over the growing din of alarm. "Our first priority is to keep the city from falling to chaos until we're told otherwise! Seated officers! Each of you take a dozen men and head to the Emergency rally points! Keep civilians calm, and direct them away from the 11th! Gin, you're with me!"

"SIR! YES SIR!" the assembled Shinigami shouted, and quickly fell in as he and Gin took off with Shun-po towards the scene of the catastrophe.

"You've got speed on me Gin, go scout ahead!" He called and the boy vanished in a silver flash of light ahead of him. He could make out other approaching officers- Kuchiki, his lieutenant with the fancy sunglasses and his grandson from the sixth and Lieutenant Yamada and an emergency troop from the fourth.

Another flash- bright red-orange for the instant it was visible- and he realized Yamamoto himself had deployed to the scene.

"Why does every woman turn into a huge bitch when you ask her to smile?" Aizen groaned.

Even with Shun-po it still took him a few minutes to actually arrive, just ahead of the Kuchiki detachment, and landed beside Gin where he was standing on the roof of the 11th. "How is it?" he panted.

"You want the good news or the bad news first?" Gin grimaced as more people arrived behind them-

"Holy FUCK!" Yelped Captain Ukitake, a man who was so careful with his language he kept a division swear jar.

"What the hell made that?" Echoed Captain Kyoraku, voice trembling.

Below them, the Dueling arena in the courtyard of the 11th had been cleft in twain. As had the rest of the Courtyard. And the ground below. And the Sewers below that- even from up here he couldn't see how deep the cut went- it had to be at least a hundred feet deep, which made it... deeper than it was wide, a terrifying thought.

"Just give me the news, Gin." He said, trying to sound like a Captain in control of the situation, but his voice cracked for the first time since puberty. Aizen shuddered as he realized that all was left of Kiganjo were the splashes of red on either side of The Hole's median.

"Well uh, the good news is that the thing that made that hole was only mad at Kiganjo specifically, and has peacefully accepted the commission as Captain of the 11th." Gin explained.

"Oh thank god!" Ukitake exhaled with relief.

"...What's the Bad news?" Kyoraku asked.

"...The bad news is the The Thing That Made That Hole is now captain of the 11th." Gin winced, pointing him out in the surprisingly calm crowd. "...Also, I think he already knows Captain Unohana because he was awful polite without her threatening him at all, and unless I'm mistaken, I think he knows Tousen too."

Aizen followed Gin's lead with great alarm for the second time in under ten minutes, and barely managed to pick out Tousen's garish orange scarf in the crowd. Mostly because of the Giant man in about half of a ratty Yukata and mostly bandages was standing next to Tousen, hand on the captain's shoulder and grin so broad it was visible even from up here. The man had long, unkempt black hair that came down to the middle of his back and some kind of bundle on his shoulder.

"...I guess we go make our introductions?" Ukitake mumbled, and the other two captains shrugged, then jumped down.

Tousen's expressions were hard to read on a good day, and right now he looked so stunned he might have been hit by that lighting bolt.

"-See, I never forget a face!" The giant was saying cheerfully. "Even if it's in a pho- whatsit. The paintings that come out of a box." The giant was an ugly beast of a man, at least seven feet tall, standing barefoot, and had a strangely long and angular face, with dark, sunken eyes.

"A Photograph Ken-Chan?" the bundle asked, and Aizen realized that the thing draped over his shoulder was the little pink-haired girl Tousen had smuggled in and out of the Captain's meeting yesterday.

Uh-oh.

"Thems." The giant nodded. "You alright Kaname? You look like yer about to keel over."

"I- I'm-" he started to speak and Aizen snapped Suigetsu open to flash the assembled crowd and hopefully catch the giant in the illusion before Kaname could speak and blow the whole operation-

"-PUT THAT THING AWAY!" The Giant roared, glaring at Aizen over his shoulder ...Through an eyepatch? Aizen paused, startled.

"You look like sheep when you run up on 'em at the road at night." The Giant chuckled at him. "Keep yer panties on, it's all done and dusted."

"Really Sosuke!" Ukitake huffed, chopping him on the shoulder to make him sheathe Suigetsu again.

"My apologies for my friend, it's literally his first day on the job." Kyoraku waved apologetically. "I'm 8th Division Captain Shunsui Kyoraku, the silver fox is 13th Division Captain Jushiro Ukitake, and that's appointed-yesterday 5th Division Captain Sosuke Aizen."

"You certainly know how to make an entrance, Captain-?" Ukitake asked brightly, attempting to distract the giant from Aizen.

"Kenpachi Zaraki." The Giant leered down at them. The other eye was sunken and gaunt and an unpleasant shade of yellow as Zaraki studied them in a way that made Aizen's skin crawl, like without suigetsu's Illusion, Zaraki could somehow see him naked. Yep. That's an eyepatch... But why do I have the feeling he can see right through it? Right through me?

"My apologies, Captain Zaraki-" Aizen sputtered, closing the distance and putting his hand on Kaname's other shoulder. "-Kaname is a very dear friend of mine and it's alarming to see a stranger touching him." he explained, digging the heel of his palm into the Silence character carved into Tousen's shoulder.

Tousen made a faint clicking noise in his throat as he involuntarily swallowed the shriek of pain under the Curse's command, and nodded in agreement. There- if I can't conceal Tousen from this brute, I can at least force him to remain silent. The illusion is safe.

"...That so?" Zaraki asked, the yellow eye fixed on Aizen's hand, and Aizen let go before he realized what he was doing. What? Why am I flinching? Who is this guy?

"You've taken to your title quickly!" Aizen smiled up at him, feigning cheerful interest.

"Title Schmitle, it's been my Name since before you were a wiggle in yer Da's nutsack." Zaraki grunted.

Aizen felt his glasses slipping off his face without his permission again. I didn't think there was an expression worse than Hirako's 'since you were kickin' in your momma'...

"Ah, here's trouble- WHAT TOOK YOU ASSHOLES SO LONG?" Zaraki roared cheerfully at two men who appeared on the 11th's roof, panting and enraged.

"HI YUYU! HI BALDY!" Yachiru waved cheerfully!

"Yachiru darling! I'm so glad you're safe!" the lithe, effeminate one waved back before jumping down to meet them.

"FUCK YOU!" howled the bald, muscular one.

"FUCK ME YOURSELF YOU COWARD!" Zaraki called back, grinning as they approached. "Come look who I found-!

Fuck! Aizen suddenly realized that when he'd let go of Tousen, Zaraki had not, and was now herding him away from Aizen, his huge and terrible body between them.

"OH MY GOD! IS THAT KAKIYO'S BROTHER?" the fop shrieked with excitement, sprinting over and grabbing Kaname's hand. "Yumichika Aseyagawa- oh this is DELIGHTFUL! I've heard so much about you!"

"Holy shit! You're the guy that burned down that shitass Daimyo's compound down, right?" the bald, clownish one grinned, shaking Kaname's whole arm. "Ikkaku Maderame, it's such an honor to meet you!"

THEY KNEW KAKIYO!? FUCK!! Aizen paled.

"-Burned what down?" Kyoraku asked.

"Shut up cueball, they acquitted him." Zaraki grunted, flicking Madarame's forehead. "Speaking of- I haven't heard form Kakiyo in Donkey's years, how is she? Running one of these divisions, right?"

"Gin!" Aizen hissed, searching the crowd for his Lieutenant. "Do something!"

"...She's dead." Kaname said flatly, still dazed with the... the everything probably.

Zaraki's shock rippled through the ambient reiatsu like being dunked in cold water. There's no sign of Gin, and no way to silence Tousen-

"What? How?" Aseyagawa demanded, the other two equally horrified.

"She was murdered." Kaname's voice was small, weak and he was starting to sway- the effort of resisting the curse was about to make him collapse.

Zaraki slowly crouched down, perched on his toes so he could pull Kaname close, face to face

"Who." It wasn't a request.

With a shaking arm, Tousen pointed to the remains of the Arena.

SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK!! Aizen felt his heart racing.

"I- I'm sorry. I tried to, but- I can't- I can't I'm not strong enough-" Tousen stammered, trying to speak through the pain.

"It's alright. I am." Zaraki said, voice suddenly strangely gentle, touching his forehead to Kaname's. He sat down, pulling Kaname down with him, half in Zaraki's lap so he couldn't be easily pulled away. "Tell me the details later, ya look like yer about to drop dead. Y'all got anything he can eat?" He glared at the other captains.

Ukitake immediately produced a large bag of candy and Kyoraku a flask that smelled like you could use it's contents for eye surgery. Aizen made a show of patting his coat, and suddenly remembered the two oranges Gin had handed him earlier.

"Uh, I have these..?" Aizen offered the fruits, mentally preparing to skin Gin.

"Good to see one of you is an adult." Zaraki chuffed, taking one of the oranges and handing it to Kaname, who pointed his face at it blankly. "You don't mind if I take the other? I sprinted here from North 69 on an empty stomach."

Tousen shook his head, still silent.

"Good man, you'll be alright. Ta." Zaraki said, taking the second orange from Aizen with a nod of gratitude.

... and then casually bit halfway into it like an apple and chewed, rind and all.

Aizen stood there, dial tone echoing between his ears. Gradually he became aware his left eye was twitching.

"Did. Did you just bite straight into that orange?" Kaname frowned.

Zaraki, to Aizen's horror, swallowed. "Yeh, what's wrong with that?"

"...Nothing at all." Aizen smiled, checking out of this scene. "Excuse me, I seem to have misplaced my lieutenant..." he mumbled, turning on his heel and wandering away from them.

---

Kaname felt Zaraki arch his back slightly, watching Aizen go.

"...Uh-huh." he said, smirk audible. "Alright lads, you got marchin' orders."

The other two men snapped to attention.

"Yumichika- There's a woman, beautiful and terrible as the dawn, with a coat like this 'cept it's got a four on the back. Go tell her Kaname's had a turn and whatever she says you say 'Yes Sir' and do it." he said, tugging on Kaname's haori.

"Sure, that's definitely a description I can follo- oh. Nevermind, I see what you mean!" Yumichika said, catching sight of Unohana. "On it, Boss."

"Er, It might help if I'm there to make Introductions..." Kyoraku offered, jogging after Yumichika.

"Ikkaku." he spoke as soon as Yumichika was out of earshot. "There's a man who's older than dirt who looks like he could set you on fire just lookin' at you, 'cos he can. He's got the Employee Handbook, can you go grab that?"

"...What Employee Handbook?" Ikkaku frowned. "Don't tell me you're quittin' the house? Madame won't like that."

"Madame sent me here today on purpose." Zaraki waved. "-But seein' as I just did a homicide right in front of everybody, the old man offered me a choice. Take Kiganjo's old job runnin' the 11th, or get burnt to ash right there, and I can't take care'a Yachiru if I'm charcoal."

"So... you're a shinigami Captain now?" Ikkaku asked, sounding more intrigued than anything.

"Seems so." Zaraki shrugged. "Funny thing- the Lieutenant and Third-in-command's seats are up for grabs too."

Ikkaku cackled. "Be right back, Captain!" he grinned and took off towards the center of the city.

"Oh, shit-!" Ukitake muttered, looking up from where he had been transfixed by the sight of Yachiru devouring the bag of candy. "Er- Yama-Ji can be a bit tetchy with strangers, I should probably go with him..." he winced, sprinting after apparently-Lieutenant Madarame.

Zaraki chuckled, weight shifting and turning his attention back to Kaname. "...You want some help with that, Little bat?"

Kaname nodded, too dazed to protest as Zaraki took the orange from him.

"That Aizen's a creep, ain't he?" he asked.

"Yeah! Kaname-kun told me to stay away from him, even more than I needed to stay away from Kiganjo!" Yachiru nodded, mouth still full of candy.

"Thought so." Zaraki hummed, fiddling with the orange. "You know what's great about first Impressions?"

Kaname shook his head, just relieved Zaraki was here to keep him from collapsing straight onto the pavement.

"They Stick." Zaraki said voice low and conspiratorial. "-No matter what Aizen sees me do from now on, no matter what anyone tells him, he will believe, at his core, that I'm an idiot."

-And with that, he pressed a perfectly peeled and clean segment of orange into Kaname's hand.

Kaname blinked a few times, turning the fruit over in his hands as he sluggishly connected the dots and, despite everything, slowly broke into a genuine smile.

"Kakiyo always said you were a clever bastard." Zaraki grinned, "Eat yer orange."

---

Aizen finally located Gin, hiding under the narrow gap under one of the stone storehouses in the less-used section of the 11th.

"What the HELL are you doing?" Aizen hissed at him.

"That thing ain't human." Gin whimpered. "I dunno what it is, but it ain't right."

"I agree he looks like a carcass that's too stupid to know it's dead but that's because he's a MORON." Aizen groaned, reaching under the porch and pulling the boy out by the scruff of his neck. "You should see how he eats oranges."

"I'm not kidding!" Gin pleaded, grabbing Aizen's sleeve. "He's got- I don't know, but when he looked at us? It was like he could see right through me!"

"Yes, yes-" Aizen waved. "-but even if he could, I promise, he hasn't got the brains to understand what he's seeing."

"He's gonna eat me." Gin muttered, hiding behind Aizen, peering out behind him in the general direction of courtyard.

"What's gotten into you?" Aizen huffed. "You've never been spooked before-?"

"I'm telling you!" Gin pleaded up at him, eyes very nearly open with alarm. "There's something deeply fucked up about that guy! He's dangerous! He's gonna find me and grab me and eat me!"

Aizen sighed, put his hand on Gin's shoulder, glanced around for witnesses, and finding them alone, backhanded Gin as hard as he could.

"Get ahold of yourself!" he snarled, and Gin flinched. He softened his voice, fingertips under Gin's chin, tipping his head up. "I'm sorry- it's easy to forget you're just a boy sometimes- but we can't lose our heads now, not when we've come so far. I'll deal with Zaraki, alright? I need you to keep Tousen in line- I've gotten him to shut up for now, but it's VITAL that he not speak to that brute until I've gotten him and his two clowns under The Illusion, got it?"

Gin nodded, sniffling, cheekbone turning slightly pink.

"Good boy." Aizen smirked. "I'll leave it to you then."

Gin vanished with a flash to carry out his orders, and Aizen sighed, taking off his glasses to clean them.

"-How do these things constantly get filthy?" he muttered.

"Most of the filth on glasses is the grease from the skin of the wearer. If they're constantly filthy, it may be that you're just slime." someone spoke up behind him and Aizen yelped, nearly dropping his glasses as he fumbled them onto his face.

"-Good heavens! How DO you do that?" He laughed nervously to suddenly be in close proximity to the massive frame of Yamamoto's pet third seat that he'd just assigned to the Seventh Division. No saftey pins needed to keep the Lieutenant's badge on the tree-trunk arms of Sajin Komamura.

The narrow gap in the helmet stared impassively down at him, and for the second time that morning, Aizen was struck by the feeling he was nearly being seen through.

"I didn't quite catch all that, but I did hear the sound of someone being slapped before I see you, holding your lieutenant like that, and he sprints away with a fresh bruise on his face." Komamura rumbled ominously.

"I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean." Aizen glared back.

"I'm glad to hear that. I should hope that I merely misunderstood what I saw, and that there's no cause for alarm." Komamura leaned forward, and Aizen thought there was the briefest flash of the same yellow as Zaraki's working eye in there. "-There are very few deviances the captain-general won't tolerate, but the lines in the sand do very much exist."

"Sajin-" Aizen scoffed, turning away from the menacing hulk of a shinigami. "You may be Yamamoto's Golden Boy, but you ought to mind what you go sticking your nose into, lest somebody cut it off."

There was no reply.

"Glad you underst- really?" Aizen groaned at the empty corner of the 11th Division. "How the HELL does he do that? It's like being stalked by an animal... Whatever, it's fine- Sajin still has his uses, and he'll forget it by tomorrow morning, won't he?" Aizen smirked, affectionately rubbing Suigetsu's hilt, the Zanpakuto purring at the attention.

"Now, let's go deal with that orange-mangling moron." he smiled as he stalked back into the remains of the 11th's courtyard.

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Bleach #Bleach Fanfic #4K under the cut #sosuke aizen #kenpachi zaraki #kaname tosen #gin ichimaru #sajin komamura #Zaraki Is much better if he is impulsive and manic and a bit of a dunce but also CUNNING as hell

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chocolatespyro · 6 months

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#had this in my files for a little might as well post it #sorry #ask to tag ig?

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5-pp-man · 2 years

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yeah Seigi. sure. the ring.

#the case files of jeweler richard #jeweler richard #ive been sending my brother some random dialogue so i thought i might as well post it here too #sooo sos o happy the book is finally here.#i was abt to preorder the 2nd one but found out i already did that like a month ago lmao #tedreads #tedpost #i started reading last week on thursday or friday n im a little past the halfway point rn #ive been almost exclusively reading it in the train and only little bits at home. ive been out a lot the past few days so. had to make do #wait no im sure i started friday because thats when i went to amsterdam

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pastadoughie · 3 months

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many people were confused about some of my previous posts, so for the sake of clarity i am condensing everything! tumblr has extremely transphobic moderation practices, often flagging completely innocent posts as explicit, solely for containing trans women in them or mentioning transgenderism. while letting untagged porn in sfw tags (ive literally seen porn tagged as "sfw agere") and blatent hatespeech, especially twards trans people (just look at the "gender critical" tag) go completely unchecked recently the CEO of tumblr had a big public hissyfit about people (rightfully) calling him transmysogenistic, going into random trans womens dms to harrass them, and saying that predstrogen saying she "hopes he explodes with hammers and then explodes again and hammers fly everywhere" is a death threat and saying he is calling the FBI on her (repeatedly misgendering her and calling her "it") and many bloggers, apon speaking out about it or even making harmless jokes (one trans woman posted a picture of a car and a hammer with the caption "reblog to scare matt" and got nuked for it) and many are very very angry (rightfully) about this whole affair and tumblr in general. if you would like to look into it i reccomend scrolling the "predstrogen" tag as she is the case most people are talking about at the moment. So, what can we do? this is clearly an ongoing issue, and, dispite having lost a lawsuit about their transphobic moderation in the past (see : https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/21274288-tumblr-nycchr-settlement) its clearly not gonna stop with just user complaints, as staff members are perfectly content to just go scorched earth on users who even so much as lightly poke fun at them well if you want to help you should contact the human rights commision (i will give clear details further down) ! you dont have to be in the US, nor be an adult to file, and it only takes a few minutes. this is the best and most effective method to fix this, because it hits tumblr where it hurts. human rights acencies have a lot of legal and financial power and tumblr CAN NOT just ignore them, and given that this will be the seccond time this is happening, the commisions shouldnt be playing nice anymore eaither. its really important that AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE FILE, and with different examples! while maybe your case might not be enough to prop up a lawsuit on its own, we need to prove a general trend. so every little bit counts! to respond to another question abt this ive gotten, as for what exactly to report, you should a) write about an act of discrimination youve recieved on tumblr that was eaither administered by a staff member OR that staff refused to give adequate moderation action in for example : a terf posted some blatent hatespeech targeted twards you, and you reported them, and staff looked at the issue and refused to persecute it. example 2 : you were unfairly flagged, deleted, or otherwise punished by a staff member and you are queer ( AND the post they banned you for has some kind of tie to your gender, ex : a sfw transition progress photo ) OR b) if you have not personally recieved something like that, please look for other peoples stories (THEY SHOULDNT BE HARD TO FIND, within the last couple of hours trans people have been being banned LEFT AND RIGHT for trying to speak on this. i would reccomend checking some of the tags related to what happened with predstrogen) and you should describe that incident as best as possible (be sure to disclose that you are speaking for someone else, ideally you should tell the story of someone you know, if possible.) you can also mention any reports you have made twards people posting blatent hatespeech that, opon reveiwing tumblr refused to prosecute dispite it being very obviously against terms of service. just so nobody gets confused about the filing process, im laying it out in more plain languadge!!

first you should email the SF HRC (san francisco human rights commision), at [email protected] and say something along these lines :

Hello, I am [full name] from [country or state] and I am filing a complaint against Tumblr, witch is owned by the parent company Automattic Inc. located at 60 29th St, San Francisco, CA 94110.

Tumblr has had previous issues with the NYC DHR for their moderation being unfairly biased against trans women (see : https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/21274288-tumblr-nycchr-settlement).

Despite a legally binding agreement with the NYC DHR, staff members still regularly harrass users based on their gender or sexual orientations. For example : on [date of most recent infraction] [describe incident] (if you are describing an incident that did not happen to you specifically, say something like) This incident involves the user [username] who I am not affiliated with (or/) who I am filing on behalf of.

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reiderwriter · 8 months

Text

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds smut #So much plot #maturereiding

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rallamajoop · 3 months

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That time Heisenberg stabbed Ethan with a rusty fencepost

Thanks to this one fic project that needed a pornographically detailed list of Ethan’s most memorable injuries, I've spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Heisenberg stabs him with when they first met. Working mostly from a free-camera version from youtube, I settled on calling a metal pipe with a square profile.

Tumblr: I was wrong. The reality is so much worse.

Having cracked the game files and installed my own free-camera mod, I tracked down the original asset for this thing, and, well...

No, really, this is it! Check out those matching cross-bars if you doubt me.

FWIW, it isn’t actually a spear. Those semi-mangled crossbars flag it instead as a spear-headed fence-post. (This may not be a distinction that Ethan would find very comforting after being stabbed with the thing, but there it is, regardless.)

In fact, if you poke around the cemetery area just outside the castle gate, you can even find the fence it presumably came from.

Look in on the cemetery near the church from the lane leading up to the Duke's shop beside it, and this is what you'll see.

It's not a perfect match (in fact, it's even worse viewed from the opposite side, because someone has clearly stuffed up the textures on different sides of the same asset). I'll also note that if you go back to this fence again after meeting Heisenberg, you won’t find any suspicious gaps in it where a post was recently ripped out. So I’m going to just go ahead and assume this particular piece was lying in a pile of surplus scrap in the cellar somewhere, and Heisenberg did not, in fact, drag the thing all the way there from well outside the whole damn building. I mean, at that point, you’re just showing off.

The fence post is, admittedly, pretty hard to get a good look at in the actual game. Unlike all the other crap Heisenberg already has levitating around him in this scene, the fencepost doesn’t appear at all until Heisenberg stabs Ethan with it. It actually seems to emerge at speed from between a couple of barrels at the back. But if you’re enough of a lunatic to play around with the various slow motion/rewind settings that came with the free camera mod, you can get a decent shot of it in flight, cleaning up any remaining doubt that this is the same asset that was used in game.

It even freaking spins in the air as it moves. FTR, yes, it does go in pointy-end first. And the whole fucking spearhead ends up buried in poor Ethan. (Please feel free to insert your own dick-joke here.) Those paying really close attention might even note that the blood on Ethan's shirt is present even before the spear hits him, but that's just going to be virtual-stunt-coordination having a normal one.

I can offer you no similarly definitive insight into why Heisenberg would think stabbing Ethan with this thing was a good idea. I can’t even tell you if he knew for sure that it was Ethan Winters he was talking to at this point (maybe he's just playing dumb, pretending not to recognise him. Or maybe he legit didn't know that Ethan himself had made an appearance until Miranda told him. Sure, he's already got that whole conspiracy board, but finding real pictures of this Ethan-guy is surprisingly hard.) But whether Heis was already testing out Ethan’s ‘interesting body’, or whether he’d just generally assumed that anyone who could survive a full lycan assault on the village wouldn’t be too seriously inconvenienced by a little stabbing, hoo boy was this one way to make a first impression.

I’m not even sure which of these losers is the bigger idiot here: the one who imagined Ethan might still agree to work with him even after inserting a very convincing imitation-spearhead into his intestines, or the one who never thought to seriously question how he keeps shrugging off injuries just as exciting as this one.

They probably deserve each other.

#Karl Heisenberg #Ethan Winters #RE meta #winterberg #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #RE assets #not to soapbox but that's also why the popularity of AO3's 'soft' Heisenberg tag makes me roll my eyes so hard #this dude is 'soft' like a fencepost to the gut

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cocklessboy · 1 year

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I see a lot of people saying that gender-affirming health care like top surgery for trans people like myself should be freely available (which is correct), but one of the reasons they often give is that top surgery is very safe and has a very low rate of complications compared to other surgeries. And I often see transphobes clutching their pearls over the few people who do have complications. What about them?! What if you're one of the unlucky ones?! Should we really let those transes risk it??!!!

Setting aside the fact that no one raises such concerns over other types of surgery, I'd like to use myself as an example for anyone who needs one.

In May of 2022 I had top surgery (double mastectomy). The surgery was done by a gynecological surgeon, not a plastic surgeon, because that way my insurance would cover it.

The surgeon did his job and removed the breast tissue, but he did not make it look pretty. I have dog-ears at both ends of both scars (extra bits of skin that hang off in a very unappealing fashion), my chest still looks unnaturally flat with no muscle or fat despite a lot of working out, and one of the stitches didn't heal properly and was left as an open wound through "secondary healing" for several months before it finally healed over into a very large scab (and eventually a very large scar). My nipples are uneven and irregular and look... well, just awful, really. Due to bad genetic luck, I wound up with keloid scars which, instead of getting smaller and lighter over time, have instead expanded, becoming thicker and darker. Worst of all, I now have chronic nerve pain in my chest. My GP thinks the surgeon must have hit a nerve during the procedure, and now I have random sharp pains all over my chest even now, nearly ten months later. The pain might improve with time, or it might not.

I basically had almost every possible complication one can have from this surgery short of infection or death. Some of the aesthetics might be fixable with more surgery (though plastic surgery will be expensive). Some are probably permanent. I might never feel comfortable taking my shirt off in public again. I might have to tattoo over the scars.

And pay attention to this next bit, because it's the most important part of this whole post: I do not regret the surgery. Even with all the complications and the ugly state of my chest and the pain. If someone said they could push a button and make it so that the surgery never happened and I'd have a perfect, unmarred chest with C-cup breasts again, I would tell them to take their button and fuck right off. Because even with basically the worst of all possible outcomes, that surgery was the best thing that ever happened to me.

I don't feel good about taking my shirt off in front of people now. I do think my chest is ugly. But it's a male chest now. When I put on a t-shirt, it rests flat against my chest. No one will ever mistake me for a woman again. I'll never have to wear a bra or binder ever again.

The dysphoria I felt from having breasts was so severe that a hideously scarred chest and chronic pain are vastly preferable. The euphoria I feel when I look in the mirror with a shirt on is something I never knew I was capable of feeling.

And it's my fucking body, and it's up to me what I do with it. If I wanted to tattoo myself from head to toe, or file my teeth into fangs, or have a doctor break my legs and surgically implant extensions to make me taller, that's my right because it's my body. The fact that all those things are regarded as basically acceptable (if a little weird), but I had to have a dehumanizing interview with an old cis psychiatrist who hates trans people and wants us all sterilized just to get a piece of paper giving me permission to have my tits removed, is fucking absurd.

Top surgery (of any kind) is generally very safe, and complications are rare. But even with the worst outcome, a trans person will basically never regret it.

And frankly, if a cis woman wants her tits cut off, or a cis man wants a pair of boobs to play with on his own chest, more power to them because literally who gives a fuck what people do to their own bodies? I saw a dude on TV when I was a kid who'd tattooed his whole body to look like a cat, filed his teeth into fangs, and had loads of plastic surgery to surgically implant whiskers and make his face look more feline. It was weird! But literally no one said that should be banned because he might regret it. It's his body to do whatever weird shit he wants with.

The next time someone clutches their pearls and kicks and screams about how you can't let someone permanently alter their body in a way they might regret, feel free to point to me and my complete and utter lack of regret.

(Or have a little fun with it, go hard in the other direction, and say you absolutely agree, which is why we should ban ALL non-emergency surgeries until the patient has been FULLY evaluated by three psychiatrists - along with tattoos and piercings. Oh, and ballet lessons for anyone under the age of 25, since ballet changes the structure of a child's body FOREVER.)

#transgender #transmasc #trans man #lgbtqia+#queer #top surgery #gender dysphoria

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

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not a request but i just wanna get an idea that i absolutely MUST get out of my brain before it consumes my entire being. So, your “get off my screen series”. You know that trend where ppl put that one vox vid of his face on their tv and put like hus hat and/or body attached to the tv. Imagine vox somehow finds a way to do that and y/n just does this.

THATS IT LMAO ABSOLUTELY LOVE AND ADORE YOUR SERIES. ANYTIME I SEE IT’S UPDATED IT MAKES MY DAY<3

TikTok Trending, Posts and Memes

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: With how many ideas you guys have at this point I might just continue to write short scenarios for this AU with all the ideas you guys are giving me- it's absolutely amazing seeing what y'all come up with and I'm just living for it hahahaha! Thank you guys so much!

The week you had was... interesting to say the least.

Vox had challenged you to at least take up basic programming, claiming you were too impatient to learn.

So you, being the persistent and stubborn you-

Decided to prove him wrong.

Besides, it can't be that bad if he knows how to do it.

You wouldn't tell him because it'd probably make him butthurt-

But you were sure Vox was 1000% more impatient than you.

You took up computer science for extra credit, quickly learning the ins and outs of basic coding.

It was just a world of syntax and numbers but you definitely found it fun.

And useful too-

Especially when you wanted to explicitly screw with others.

Vox may or may not have slightly taught you how to hack.

But you weren't using it for anything bad!

Just to change the final grade of some asshole students so they'd have to repeat the class.

That's what they get for just randomly tripping you in the hall the other day.

Vox was slightly proud but also kind of concerned-

You'd definitely end up where he was at this rate.

Thankfully though, you decided not to do anything too crazy since.

Instead you've been messing around on your devices alongside the tech overlord.

From practicing how to send him encrypted messages-

To straight up just shitposting all over his monitors.

It's not so fun now is it Voxxy?

You would sometimes try to transfer him around to other devices that weren't your own to see if he could actually do anything.

Well, he could- but it only worked if he was directly connected to it.

Meaning he had to be plugged in.

How he was able to connect to all your devices wirelessly without limitation?

Neither of you had a clue.

You both first tested it on your best friend's phone, only for Vox to immediately go back to your computer and blow up your notifications.

"Nope nope nope nope, that's the last time I let you plug me into some random fucking phone-"

"What?? What happened??? And it's not random, it's (Friend Name)'s Phone."

"Dollface, you know Valentino right? The one I told you about?"

"The pornstar? What about?"

You didn't exactly like where this conversation was going.

You had an inkling where it would end and you were already cringing.

"Yeeaaaah, I've known him for quite some time so I would think I've seen nearly everything."

"Get to the point Vox-"

"And yet I am somehow utterly disgusted by your friend's search history."

"Yeah, uh... I'd rather you don't tell me."

"I figured. Though it makes me curious about what yours looks like."

That gave you pause, given how Vox had practically invaded your entire computer-

Hell, he even gave your files a new sorting system-

You were surprised he hadn't gone through your search history.

Of all the things you'd think that was what he'd ransack first.

"You haven't checked my search history yet?"

"Why would I? It's not like I'm trying to find your secret porn stash or something."

"Bruh, why would I even have that."

"Your friend had one, I just guessed."

"Touché."

You were a little touched that Vox cared about you enough not to really dig into your secrets.

Or well, the things you wanted to keep secret.

For a big bad overlord, he was kind of a sweetheart.

"Okay now I definitely wanna see what you've got hidden in there-"

"FUCK OFF YOU STUPID OLD PICTUREBOX-"

"YOU CAN'T STOP ME BITCH-"

You know what, you retracted your previous statement.

He's a fucking jerk.

Vox quickly dug through your search history while the tiny desktop companion in his likeness refused to give you control over the cursor.

You couldn't stop him even if you tried.

His phone blew up from notifications with you cursing at him or just calling him names.

He just laughed at your dismay and continued to dig through.

Okay- wow.

While he didn't initially expect it from you, Vox reckoned he probably should've.

Much like how people had celebrity crushes, he figured you would have your own.

It just so happened that it wasn't a celebrity and it was a fictional character instead.

He kind of felt like someone slapped him in the face actually, even if he didn't know why.

"Soooooo- (Favorite Character Name) huh?"

"Shaddup-"

"This? This is your type???"

"IT'S A FICTIONAL CRUSH GET OVER IT-"

While you were practically steaming from the ears in embarrassment, Vox was just laughing and dealing with his mixed feelings.

On one hand, he found your reactions absolutely entertaining and hilarious.

On the other hand, he didn't even know who or what this character was and he already disliked them.

Just a gut feeling.

He continued to tease you for it though, bringing up more cringe parts of your search history much to your chagrin.

It wasn't really anything bad that you couldn't take, it was just so embarrassing that you'd rather he didn't dig any of it up.

So in the heat of the moment, wanting to get Vox off your computer- you plugged it into the only other active device he wasn't connected.

Your TV.

It was nearly instant, he went from teasing and texting to you to a befuddled face on the larger screen.

But what was more surprising, was he could actually see you this time.

It wasn't filtered over with static like when he'd first met you.

The live feed even had audio, which was just entirely unexpected too.

Who knew, plug a TV demon into his specific medium and he could actually operate properly?

But that's how you guys ended up figuring out how to connect his digital presence to your TV.

By entire surprise and from just fucking around.

"Oh my god that worked-"

"(Y/N)? Holy hell! I can actually see you!"

"I did not think that would work-"

"Wow, are you really that short or is your TV just perched up that high?"

You just flipped him the bird and Vox laughed at you again.

Though, you couldn't help but smile because of it.

Well, at least now he could converse with you "properly" like he'd wanted to for a while.

Even if it did mean he'd need to take up your entire TV.

"Oh- OH WAIT- I've got an idea!"

Vox couldn't even question what you were doing before you ran out of the room and out of his sight.

So while waiting, he took a gander at the room you left him in.

It became abundantly clear that this was your living space too.

From the colors to the patterns, Vox smiled fondly as he recalled your old conversations where you would just tell him things about the things you liked.

Yeah, he could definitely see your touch in how the room was designed.

He raised an eyebrow when you giddily came back into the room with some colored paper, scissors and tape.

What-?

"Okay Doll, just what are you planning?"

"You'll see~!"

Your excitement kept him curious.

What were you drawing over there?

Weird timing for an arts and crafts project if you asked him.

It was only until you approached him and taped something to the screen did he actually grow confused.

He couldn't see what you did despite you doubling over in laughter.

What could've possibly been so funny that had you keeling from it?

By the time you could finally look at Vox without laughing your ass off, you used your phone to take a picture of how he looked.

Approaching the TV to show him just so he could see the photo as well.

Ah.

So that's what you found so funny.

You'd fashioned his outfit-

Poorly made but still recognizable-

Out of paper and taped it to the screen.

His hat on top and his suit dangling off the bottom.

Admittedly, it looked downright silly.

Especially with the proportions being so off thanks to the size of the TV screen.

"Haha, very funny (Y/N). Very funny."

"I'm making this shit my wallpaper, you look so goofy."

Vox just playfully rolled his eyes at you with a smile.

If that was seriously all it took to make you laugh?

He'd do it again no questions asked.

Taking a peek at his internal clock though, he held back his disappointment that he had to leave when you were on such an elated high.

"Sorry to cut this short doll, but I need to disconnect. I've got a meeting in a few minutes."

"Hm? Then go and do what you need to do, I can always just plug you back in later. Good luck!"

The overlord chuckled when you raised a hand to pat the screen, he couldn't feel it but he wished he did.

"I don't need luck, but... thanks. See you."

"See you."

And just like that the screen fizzled out and returned to the smart TV homepage.

You'd sent the picture to Vox through your chats and he replied with a TV emoticon.

You giggled, course he would do that.

At least he didn't take offense to what you did-

Despite your poor art skills-

Maybe he found it as entertaining as you did?

Whatever, you switched the wallpaper on your phone to the new photo you had of Vox and laughed.

His confused expression really sealed the deal with how silly the picture was.

But imagine your surprise come morning when you realized he didn't switch the wallpaper back to his trademark grin.

You sort of expected him to, especially given that he'd done so with all your past attempts to change your wallpaper.

The fact he left it alone made you smile.

And as the day began and Vox left you a morning greeting-

You just shot him one back and got up to prepare for the day.

You figured the day would be just fine.

Yeah, you guys would be just fine.

A/N: Ooough this was a long one but I had a lot of fun writing it! I'll post the masterlist afterwards when I grab all the links to the posts and I'll just be continuing the other interludes before I post the chapter with Reader's death. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this one!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

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icarryitin · 3 days

Text

Effortless

spencer reid/gn!reader

coming into this from a fandom where my last fic got literally 11 notes (half of which were my own self-rbs) the reception for workplace hot was heartwarming, pls accept more pre-relationship work crush goodness as thanks🧡🧡

word count: 1.6k// warnings: absolutely hopeless pining, this man is so so clever but so so oblivious

“Chicken.”

“Did you know, the origin of ‘chicken’ in reference to someone who’s afraid can be traced back to the use of ‘hen-heart’ as a synonym for ‘fainthearted’? Its first documented use was in the York Mystery Plays - which are considered to have been written prior to 1450.”

“Chicken.” Morgan repeats.

“Shut up.”

While his second response is decidedly less eloquent, Spencer’s pretty sure he can’t fact-dump his way out of this particular conversation.

It’s not exactly a secret - his giant, all consuming, world ending crush on you - at least, it’s not a secret from anyone except you. He’s past being embarrassed about it when one of the others brings it up, as long as it’s not around you. That’s happened exactly once, and Spencer’s automatic response was to chatter about the migration patterns of a specific type of bird he’d read an article about the day before. Ceaselessly. No matter how much everyone else had begged him to stop, until the previous subject was well and truly forgotten. So when you’d asked a leading question about another kind of bird? He was more than happy to oblige. You’ve always done that, listened to him. It’s nice.

It’s probably what got him in this mess in the first place.

Somewhere along the way, a routine developed itself. He remembers the first day you asked him to elaborate on something he’d started on earlier in the day, trivia about the fluctuations in the popularity of a specific make of car. It had ended up being useful in the context of the case anyway but, more importantly to Spencer, the tidbit had you cornering him in the kitchen to ask him about it. And now it’s just what happens. You potter around to make your lunch, he chatters about the most recent paper he’s read like your own personal podcast.

It’s a comfortable friendship, solidified by little things like that. Though they’re not all that little to him, if anything they’ve only deepened his feelings for you - he doesn’t let on, for your sake, he tries not to.

But his affection sneaks out in other ways.

He gravitates towards you without realising it, just to exist in your space. At the round table, on the jet, at crime scenes, in whichever office the local PD have cleared out for the team. He’s never hovering, but he’s not not hovering. Just working parallel to you. It’s why he likes the bullpen, for all its hustle and bustle, because he can look at you out of the corner of his eye whenever he wants to. He can spin his chair to face you, stretch his legs out across the aisle, and let a wave of sheer steadiness wash over him. Sometimes it’s you, reaching over to hand him something or abandoning your post completely to perch on the corner of his desk. Spencer thinks that’s what it might be, the peace you seem to exude that quiets his busy mind - the kindness you extend to victims and their families that flows through your very veins. It follows you like an aura, there’s very little he won’t do to be bathed in it whenever he can. It’s all led to a unique dynamic that means you’re paired up together more often than not.

You move around each other unconsciously now, leaning over maps and files and evidence. Swapping pens and ducking under one another’s arms as you both scribble away at the board. It’s almost choreographed, natural. Everything does with you, and that’s what gets him. There’s a part of Spencer Reid’s brain that is dedicated to considering his actions in relation to the people around him, running in the background like a computer programme, but he doesn’t have to run it around you. He doesn’t think, for once. He just does.

It’s effortless, second nature, to make space for you. The same as it is to leave a seat open for you, even if it’s the only one. To nudge you gently when you’re too far in your own head to realise you’re picking at your skin. You’ve started nudging him back in recent weeks when he does the same, chewing on the inside of his lips and paying absolutely no mind to the damage he’s doing. You notice, you care enough to stop him. Just like you’ll leave an empty space on the nearest desk for him to hop up on. He’s not sure if you realise you’re even doing it. Clearing perfect Spencer-sized spots at every precinct and office you’re set up in, because you know he prefers it to the chairs. Which makes his own actions feel a little less overt and, in turn, lets him breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe this is just what good friends do for each other. He can call you that, at least, if his own fears won’t afford him the chance to call you anything else.

Though, he’s not sure he could stop himself from taking care of you in his own way if he tried. Mostly because he’s not trying in the first place.

He didn’t even realise what he was doing, the first time he turned to you to double check your protective vest was secure. Narrow fingers tugging on straps, barely even processing the inviting warmth of you underneath them, he’d been too focused on making sure you were as protected as you could be. And then he’d walked into the Unsub’s home ahead of you anyway.

Spencer never walks ahead of you, anywhere. He’s always ushering you in first, something drilled into him by some unknown force, his basest of instincts - you’re ahead of him into the office, into precincts, into crime scenes, even into the elevator. But in a hostile situation? He’s first through the door every time.

So much so that it’s routine now, wherever the case, whoever is around. He grasps the shoulders of the thick vest and wiggles it, he rips the velcro straps off at your waist only to secure them again. A little tighter, and he’s quietly grateful that you let him. The heat of you at his back is reassuring when scenes aren’t secure. To know that, based on his experience anyway, the Unsub will more than likely jump out ahead of him - and he’ll be the one between you and the bullet. Which is maybe a little dramatic, but it’s the truth.

“Ready, boys?”

Doctor Spencer Reid has never claimed to believe in any god, but he makes sure to thank something for the interruption. Anything to get himself and his giant crush out from under Derek Morgan’s microscope.

It’s Emily who speaks, Emily who tosses protective vests at him and Derek, but Spencer’s eyes are focused on you entering the office behind her. You’re concentrating on your own vest, securing straps that’ll only be repositioned in a minute or two. But you still do it yourself each time, as if you’re not expecting him to come over and double check your work. There’s no way you haven’t noticed by now. That he’ll do it every time, that he doesn’t do it for anybody else, that he spends twice as long checking on your vest than he does securing his own. FBI emblem emblazoned on his chest, Spencer crosses the room dutifully to conduct his little ritual.

Velcro isn’t quiet. It pierces through the background noise when he undoes the buckle at your side and tears it free, but his eyes don’t move from the task at hand. Yours are heavy on his face, the way they always are when he gets this close. He pretends not to notice.

“Thank you.” You whisper softly. So softly that between the chatter and gun checking behind him, only the two of you can hear.

It’s only now, now he’s certain your vest is snug as possible, that he allows his careful gaze flicker to meet yours. He struggles not to take a step back with the force of it.

“Of course.” He replies, reluctantly pulling his cold fingers out from the warmth beneath the shoulders of your vest. His smile, small, self-conscious, is returned tenfold and beaming. The same way it always is. He doesn’t know how you do it - see the things you see every day and still manage a grin wider than the Río de la Plata. Maybe he can’t explain everything.

He catches a movement over your shoulder, it’s Morgan. Arms folded at the elbow, fists tucked close to his chest, as he makes the exaggerated movements of a chicken. Head bobbing and all. The teasing support, because that’s all it is, is nice to have - but there’s not one member of the team who understands exactly why he’s so afraid to say anything to you. In an ideal world, he wouldn’t be. He’d be able to pull you aside and tell you exactly how many days it’s been since he’d met you, started crushing on you, fallen absolutely hopelessly in love. It kind of all started at once, if he’s being completely honest. And in that ideal world, you would smile that billion kilowatt smile and tell him you love him too, and even the paperwork from the bureau wouldn’t matter. This isn’t an ideal world, however. He knows that better than most.

Spencer’s been rejected before, more than even he would care to admit, by friends and lovers and parents and colleagues and strangers. But he’s not sure he could take it from you, not while you hold his heart so tenderly in your hands. Even unaware of the responsibility, you’re gentle with him.

He’ll keep you close, regardless, as much as he can without arousing your suspicion. He’ll keep making space for you and double checking your vest until every ugly confession claws its way out of him.

That’s enough, for now.

if you’ve made it this far, pls know i am kissing u gently on the forehead🧡🧡

i’m also thinking about opening requests for all things pre-relationship spencer bc mutual pining and obliviousness is my fav fav fav thing, in case anyone was interested👀

#i’m also choosing at this stage to make him only experience good things #bc i’ve just got to the maeve arc in my first full watch of cm and i know what happens and i’m sad already i love her #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds

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ew-selfish-art · 8 months

Text

Dpxdc AU: Danny can’t fix Jason’s whole…deal… and doesn’t want to answer any questions on ectoplasm but he can get Jason to the best therapist he knows! Jason mistakes Danny constantly pushing Jazz his way as an awkward little brother move to set them up romantically- which uh, isn't necessarily a bad thing? Jazz has her own vested interests.

… heads up that this got long...

Jason ran his hands through this hair, relieving them from their previous position of cradling his face in embarrassment. Why was he sitting in a nice cafe with Danny’s redhead sister and a five dollar chai latte? For all the awkward live wire feelings he had, at least she was calm and composed. How many times had this happened already?

“So… the green stuff again?” Jazz asks, taking a sip from her own stupidly expensive drink and giving him eyebrows that beg for his explanation.

“Yeah. I was trying to get your brother to explain stuff without all the science mumbo jumbo. I just, I guess that means he defers to you.” Jason sighed, and tried to not think about how pretty her eyes were as she observed him.

“Not likely. But is the search for your answers helping you cope from day to day or making you climb an impossible mountain?” Jazz asks and it makes Jason fluster.

“It’s a moving goal post, sure, but I need answers if I’m going to fix my-“

“I think it might help you to realize that people don’t need to be fixed, they just need to grow.” Jazz interrupts.

They finish their drinks in a comfortable nonchalance, the rest of their conversation doesn’t go anywhere beyond their mutual hobbies and he’s grateful for that.

Jason's been doing a lot of introspection since this all started.

——

The first time it happened was months ago.

He confronts Danny after a mission, just wanting a simple answer on whether or not Danny thought the Lazarus pit contained ectoplasm? Could ectoplasm be separated from blood? Danny looked a little uncomfortable.

“Look dude, I know you want to know more but like, having this info isn’t going to help you. You need to talk it out.” Danny sounds sad and his eyes are filed with something adjacent to pity. It riles up the pit inside him.

“Oof. See that whole reaction thing. That’s not ectoplasmic, that’s something different. C’mon follow me.” Phantom cringes as he talks to him, and then floats across the rooftops, going slow enough that Jason can keep up on his grapple.

The arrive at a modest apartment building, not too far from his territory but clearly outside of it. Danny opens a window and slides in ahead of Jason, and all of a sudden he’s seated at a kitchen table with hot chocolate and teal blue eyes peering into his soul.

“Danny, some warning next time you’re bringing a crime boss to my apartment.” Jazz sighs and its not said with any malice or sarcasm. Danny gives her a grin and a peace sign before disappearing.

“So you want to talk about it?” Jazz turns back to him and asks.

“About?” Jason’s deep voice is going through the modulator and it sounds more sinister than it should.

“Death. Dying. The afterlife. Those are the normal things Danny brings people to me for.” She blinks.

“There’s a misunderstanding, I don’t need to talk, I need answers on Ectoplasm.” He grits out.

"Hm. Well that's not my field of study, but I can tell you that however your feeling is probably a valid response towards the trauma you've faced in life. Do you think showing yourself some kindness might lessen your desire to know the knitty gritty details?"

Jason scoffs.

"Oh. You're serious. No. I don't think being kind to myself is a valid approach to dealing with an infection that's cost me a lot of family relationships." Jason rolls his eyes. The woman looks contemplative for a moment and Jason can tell that while the dim kitchen lights are doing her no favors, she's incredibly beautiful. He pockets that information and refuses to think about it.

"So...Lets take this a different direction. Do you think successful people know what they're doing or do you think successful people need help to get where they want to go?"

"Most people are dumb and trying to get by." Jason grits out.

"So, accept that you're dumb. And then get by." Jazz replies, and then sighs and leaves the room.

Jason however, is now pissed off. Who the heck was she to say that to him?

____

The next time he finds himself across the table from Jazz, he's been on a wild goose chase with Danny and lands himself in a fancy restaurant. Why the hell was she here?

"Uh, it's called self care." Jazz replies, because apparently Jason asked that out loud. But he's not going to let this lead get away from him.

He takes off his helmet, years of muscle memory make him check that his Domino mask was in place, and sits down across from her. She raises a brow and then sighs.

"You think Danny might give me answers if I hold you hostage over, what is that, some kind of gnocchi dish?"

"Mm. Probably not." Jazz says, taking a bite and pulling out her phone.

"You're just going to ignore me then?" Jason finds himself a bit flabbergasted, he was a fucking crime lord, not someone to be ignored! Like he's just- just some bad blind date!

"Uh huh. You don't want to work on your issues and it's not my job to lead a stubborn horse to water."

"The expression is that you can lead a horse to water but you can't-"

"Can't what? Or are you still going to tell me it's not a huge waste of my time to tell you that you need to accept and forgive yourself to be able to move on. Find peace. Rest." Jazz is taking bites between her last few words but her glare remains unshakeable.

Jason is about to get up and leave when a terrified waiter comes over: "A dish, as compliments from the chef. Your guest's meal as well." He's shaking as he speaks and it makes Jason feel bad.

"Thanks." He grits out.

"...Is that the lasagna?" Jazz is looking at his food curiously, and Jason pushes it forward to indicate that she can take a bite. Probably not the safest thing for a civilian to do considering people regularly try to poison Jason but, meh. He's kind of pissed off at her still.

"It's pretty good. I was debating between that and the gnocchi- Okay let's think about this differently. You want to know about the green stuff, Danny is never going to tell a mortal about it and you keep denying yourself basic self-respect. What does your support system look like?"

"You're really pushing my buttons lady-" Jason can feel the green, but after a breath and seeing her unimpressed gaze "-I have a few friends who know what my deal is, I have an older brother who claims to forgive me, and a merry band of goons that I call my henchmen."

"Henchpeople?" Jazz asks.

"I mean, sure. That's more accurate."

"What do you do for fun?" She asks.

"I take down crime syndicates-" she levels him with another glare, he wonders why its so effective on him "-I read."

"Yeah? What genres?"

"Classics." He can admit only that much.

"Nerd. Are you going to eat any of that? You really shouldn't let food waste like that when it's not even fighting back."

"I don't know why I'm even bothering to talk to you right now." Jason spoke plainly.

"I dunno either but it's easier to tolerate you without the stupid helmet speaker. Anyway, If you like to read, hopefully that means you like to see new scenarios, new plots, stuff like that. You ever think to put yourself in side-character mode and contemplate what your whole deal is bringing to the table?"

"...How so?"

"Like, if you don't think it's worth it to treat yourself well, how do the main characters feel? Or, you know, if you were a child reading your story, what would you shout at them to move forward differently?"

"... I've decided that I only read poetry." Jason grumbles, trying to deflect with humor the fact that he does have some thoughts about what she's saying. She actually laughs at his joke though- he hadn't anticipated that.

"Uh, what is the Dr. Suess line? Stop telling outlandish tales, stop turning minnows into whales? something like that."

"Dr. Suess? Really?" Jason laughs.

"Sorry Mr. Classics, I spent most of my childhood raising my brother, forgive me for not knowing any fancy poetry." She huffs but he can tell she's laughing with him still.

They get off the topic of his mental health crisis and it turns out the Lasagna isn't half bad.

----

Jason keeps chasing Danny. Danny keeps leading him to Jazz. It goes for a few rounds before the ghost kid makes a joke about Jason liking her better anyway. Jason asks what the hell Phantom means by that, but Danny just laughs and says that Jason should just ask for her number.

...This does not sit right in his gut all of a sudden. Does he think that, that Jason is only pursuing this knowledge to keep talking to Jazz?? Does Danny want him to pursue Jazz? Does HE want to pursue Jazz???

----

He spots the Replacement in the Cave's lab before he heads upstairs to grab a cookie and leave as a civilian. The reason he even looked that way being that Tim is holding glowing green vials.

"Is that-"

"Yeah. They're literally the same except for the magic mumbo jumbo that Ra's has mixed in with the pit. Leave me alone now."

"So there is a way to heal it or, or extract it or-" Jason can feel his heart racing, but his constantly-exhausted sibling is looking at him like he's grown a second head.

"Dude. You're not gunna be able to flush it out with like, a juice cleanse. You're probably better off trying to find a magic user to deal with the curses and a therapist to do the rest." Tim looks like he's trying to be patient despite being deeply, deeply vexxed.

"Therapist- why in the hell would I-"

"I mean hasn't that been Danny's entire solution for you? He's only had one strategy the whole time he's lived in Gotham." Jason rolls his eyes.

"His solution is setting me up on dates with his sister not-"

"Dates!?! His sister is THE break out psychologist, she's done more for Arkham in the last year than decades of political reform! You've been goin on- wheez- oh my god I have to call Danny-" Tim is cackling, the lazarus water all but abandoned.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

After a (from both brothers) number of punches, a few headlocks and a large portion of threats, Jason agrees that Tim can tell his boyfriend but no one else.

Kon can keep a secret right? That's why he's the favorite?

----

"So... You and Jazz huh?" Danny looks amused as he floats by- Kon could not be trusted. The entire Justice league knows. Jason might have to die again. Apparently he said as much.

"Oh buddy, it's okay! You don't have to die again! I'm sure that if she likes you, she likes you just as you are, weird little zombie boy." Danny teases, turning intangible as Jason swings a punch at him.

"What do you mean if she likes me?" Jason asks, swinging with his grapple, trying to keep up with Danny.

"You think I read her diary or something? Weirdo. You need to talk to her about it tho, it's funny and all but I'm sure she's not a fan of the JL hot goss."

"I didn't start any of this-"

"My guy. Chill. I know, but uh, I did definitely tell her about it so... Oh look! We made it all the way to her apartment! BYE!"

Jazz is standing in the window and she looks like an absolute vision. Her glare makes him want to shit his pants however, and he knows that it's going to take all of his brain cells making contact to survive this encounter.

He sits on the fire escape when he realizes that she's not moving from her spot in the window, blocking his way. Ouch.

"So let me get this straight, you thought this whole time-"

"I thought Danny was being annoying and trying to set us up! I didn't know you were a shrink!" He tries to defend himself.

"...Why should I date an idiot?" the like yourself goes unsaid but he can hear it. Jason is scrambling.

"...I can make even better lasagna than that fancy restaurant you like." is what he lands on. Jazz bursts out a laugh.

"I was just fucking with you, but honestly what a great response." She's wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Just fucking with me?" He grins a bit, unable to stop himself from getting excited.

"Yeah, I've been telling everyone at work that I'm dating the Red Hood for like, months now. It's been stellar for my hostage record, I haven't had an issue since I started the rumor!"

"We're dating?" Jason asks, a bit bewildered but charmed.

"I wouldn't give free therapy to just anyone! Now about that Lasagna-"

Something, something, something- they seal the deal with a kiss.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc crossover #dp crossover #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jasonxjazz #jazz x jason #long post #phanfic #jazz fenton

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xaviers-star-tassel · 3 months

Text

⭐️ sleep, i’m here

✦ pairing: xavier / gn!reader

✦ genre: fluff

✦ warnings: hopefully, none

✦ word count: 1.6k words

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ: you’ve recently had troubles falling asleep. luckily, your sleepy neighbor and partner is there to help

⋆˙ ✦ note: this is my first ever fic that i uploaded, so it might not be perfect! i may or may not upload more in the future, depends on how well this will do. i have to thank my friend for finally giving me the kick to actually upload this, because i would probably never post this if it weren’t for them

another sleepless night. turn after turn, no matter what you did, you just couldn’t turn your mind off. it had been like this for over a week. eyes droopy, skin sickly paler than usual. you were a mess with the darkest circles under your eyes.

you couldn’t even think straight. with how tired you were, your performance during missions got sloppy. mistakes, mishaps, injuries. things that were usually rare in your case, were now a daily part of your work. your skin was covered in cuts and bruises, making each squirm against the soft mattress painful.

whenever someone asked if you were doing well, you mustered up the speckle of energy to cover up the exhaustion pulsing within every particle of your body. others seemed to brush it off, even tara asked about your well being less frequently. though, unbeknownst to you, there was one person who was keeping an eye on you, even more than before.

that someone was none other than your partner and neighbor—xavier.

since he was always making sure you were safe, you didn’t particularly found his concern strange. it was nothing out of the ordinary, at least that was how it seemed to you. perhaps it was your sleep deprived mind, because you seemed to be utterly blind to his actions.

whenever your head was close to bumping a corner of your desk when you dropped your pen, his hand was quick to cover it. when you couldn’t keep your eyes open while filing documents, he secretly left a cup of coffee on your desk. your tired mind was making you believe you were slowly losing it at the sight of freshly brewed coffee, as bitter as possible to give you the energetic kick you need. bitter like the one from xavier’s brewing machine, you always thought to yourself as you took a sip, then cringed at the taste.

as you continued to restlessly lie on your bed, not even a blink of sleep coming to you, you tossed your blanket aside to sit up. your eyelids were heavy and sight blurry as tears of frustration welled up in your eyes. you wanted to cry, but you were tired even for that.

oh, how you wanted to steal at least a little of xavier’s drowsiness at that moment. you were sure that your neighbor was now sleeping soundly, while you were suffering in the darkness of your bedroom.

when you dropped yourself back onto the mattress, a sudden ring of your phone tore you away from a total breakdown. without looking, you picked your phone up. your eyes slowly adjusted to the light upon turning it on, and you were met with a message from xavier. huh, speak of the devil.

xavier: Are U awake

you stared at the adorable bunny chat bubble for a good minute. in your astonishment, you didn’t even manage to get bothered by the capitalized ‘U’ in the middle of a sentence like you usually did. your thumbs slowly typed in a short ‘yes’ before sending it, surprising you once more at the speed he read it.

xavier: Come here. Ill leave the door open for U

was he really just inviting you to his place in the middle of the night? why was he not asleep? despite your confusion, you didn’t hesitate to take up on his offer. leaving the last text unanswered, you lazily got up from the bed. with the phone in your hand, and a pair of slippers on your feet, you made your way out of your apartment.

you walked quietly along the hallway, careful not to disturb the neighbors. since he lived on the floor above yours, you found it useless to wait for the elevator. somehow, the idea of seeing xavier fueled you with at least enough energy to walk up to his apartment on your own tired feet, and it took only a minute or two for you to stand before the door, which were in fact opened just for you.

you barged into xavier’s apartment with a quiet step, closing the door behind your back. when the lock clicked, the silver haired head poked out from behind the doorframe of his bedroom. he smiled upon seeing you, silently inviting you in.

with your eyes half closed, you waddled to him. every step you took suddenly felt heavy, as if your entire skeleton was made of steel. the short distance that was the hall of his apartment appeared to be endless to your aching body.

finally, you were standing next to him. your head dropped onto his shoulder, which was something you wouldn’t normally do without feeling flustered. but with how exhausted you were, you couldn’t care less as you closed the small gap between you.

“there you go,” he muttered into the crown of your head, lips pressed against your hair.

your only answer was a low grumble that vibrated from your chest. xavier wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you to his bed. he gently laid you on the left side of the mattress before crawling up to you.

you watched his every move. he made himself comfortable on his side to face you, one arm bent under his head and the other propped against your waist.

the dim light radiating from the lamp behind you illuminated his face, letting you see the worried expression on his face. he studied your features without uttering a word, his warm breath caressing your cheeks. reaching his arm up, he cupped your face. the pad of his thumb rubbed the deep dark circles underneath your eyes, his touch careful and gentle.

“why didn’t you tell me anything?” he suddenly asked, catching you off guard.

you let out a sigh, pressing your cheek against his calloused palm. “i didn’t want to worry you.”

silent chuckle erupted from his throat as he shook his head. his hand slid down from your face back to your waist, expression no longer as tense as it was a second ago.

“you know i’d worry no matter what, right? after all, it was me who was making sure you wouldn’t hit your head against your desk whenever you dropped your pen,” he whispered with a smile.

this revelation had left you surprised. connecting the dots in your brain, all of the images appeared in a clear vision between your eyes. from the freshly brewed bitter coffee to the neat stack of documents that you left scattered on your desk the day before. it was all him. and only now were you realizing it.

“so i wasn’t going insane. thank goodness, i thought that my mind was playing tricks with me,” you joked meekly, huffing a laugh through your nose.

his eyes softened when he heard you laugh briefly, though deep down, he was still worried. how couldn’t he be worried? not once had he saved you from your potential doom while fighting off wanderers within the last few days.

“still, you should’ve told me,” he scolded you, though not very sternly. he didn’t have the heart to be hard on you when you looked like a distressed bundle of drowsiness.

you hummed in acknowledgment. guilt suddenly washed over you that you didn’t notice it sooner, but it was too late to cry over spilled milk.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, glancing into his eyes.

xavier took your hand in his, inspecting the scrapes and small cuts on your fingers and palm. he lifted the hand upwards, letting his lips graze over your knuckles.

“please, don’t apologize to me. you did nothing wrong,” he said softly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “just… let me know in the future. i don’t want to see you like this.”

the caring tone made you feel slightly emotional, if only you realized sooner just how worried he was.

“i will, xavier. i promise,” you nodded, lips curling into a tired smile.

he extended his pinky finger toward you, smiling while doing so. “then let’s seal the deal. pinky promises shall never be broken.”

you chuckled at the silly gesture, but you complied anyway. your pinky fingers hooked together, holding them right under your chin. only then you realized how small the gap between your faces was. the tip of his nose was merely inches away from yours, his breath fanning over your skin.

your gaze flickered down to his pink lips, the sudden desire to kiss them bubbled within your chest. xavier noticed where you stared right away, making his ears turn faint red. as if he could read your mind, he slowly began to lean in. his deep blue eyes were focused on yours, closing them only after his lips touched yours.

he hummed in what seemed like relief as he melted into the kiss. the world suddenly fell completely still, the only thing that mattered was the tender moment you shared. xavier unhooked his pinky from yours to pull you closer to him, desperately wanting to feel your warmth.

the kiss only lasted a few seconds before you pulled away. thanks to the soft light of the lamp, you caught a glimpse of the reddish dust on his cheeks. you watched as he took a deep breath before relaxing his head against the fluffy pillow.

“let’s take a day off. you must catch up on sleep, even if you’ll sleep for a whole day,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering close.

“is that really okay?” you asked worriedly.

“yes, i’m sure others will understand. now sleep, i’m here for you,” he pressed a last kiss to your forehead before relaxing completely.

the comfort and the heat radiating from his body was slowly but surely lulling you to much needed sleep. letting out a small yawn, you pressed your forehead to his chest. your breathing pattern slowed down, signaling to xavier that you had fallen asleep.

“no matter what happens, i’ll always be there for you. that is my promise to you.”

#love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace x reader #xavier #lads xavier #lads x reader #love and deepspace fanfiction #l&ds x reader #l&ds xavier #l&ds #otome game #xavier fluff

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always-andromeda · 3 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Frankie Morales x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 3,038

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ After recruiting you to be his plus one for yet another wedding, Frankie can't help but ruminate on and regret the last one he brought you to.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ Hey, Lolabee!! I'm super excited to finally share that I'm your secret Valentine!! I apologize in advance for posting this so late in the game; exam week has been super hectic. That being said, I decided to give myself a little bit of a challenge and write something for Frankie for the first time ever. I should preface this by saying that when I read your prompt for rom-com vibes, I immediately began filing through all of my favorite rom-coms. And since my current favorite is Plus One, this fic is very much inspired by it!! Happy late Valentine's Day!! (dt: @thelightsandtheroses) (divider credits: @cafekitsune)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ fluff with little bits of angst (regardless, minors, please do not interact), no physical description given to the reader except for the fact that she wears makeup, mentions of alcohol and references to the reader drinking, the slightest references to Frankie's past, this fic is almost entirely removed from the movie's canon (these characters are basically my paper dolls that I'm making do cute things<3), idiots in love, they tease each other, they go to a wedding, misunderstandings occur, but it all works out <3

“You’re bringing your own tissues this time, right?” Frankie called from where he sat at the edge of the bed. He’d slept in far worse places. But he could already feel new knots forming on top of the old ones in his back. Needless to say, he wasn’t looking forward to spending yet another night attempting to sleep on the dense hotel room mattress.

You replied from the bathroom, “Oh, yeah, don’t worry. I’m prepared.”

“You better be. Because you’re not using my tie to blow your nose again.”

If you were in the room, Frankie could’ve practically felt your glare burning a hole through him. But instead he only heard the clear exasperation in your tone when you answered, “I did not use your tie to blow my nose.”

“Might as well have…” he mumbled. Santi’s wedding had claimed that casualty. By the end of the ceremony you’d soaked his tie in tears and covered it with a fine layer of translucent powder from dabbing your face off. And as much as he teased, he hadn’t minded it. He hadn’t minded it any more than he’d minded the distant friends and relatives who’d assumed that you were his girlfriend. Which…wasn’t an insulting assumption by any means.

The next time – at Benny’s wedding – Frankie brought you tissues. He didn’t like to think about Benny’s wedding. But if there was one thing he was happy about, it was that he’d thought far enough ahead to bring them for you. He was glad to see your smile. To feel your arms wrap around him as you thanked him and told him he was such a sweetheart. He was also grateful for the Hawaiian sun; for the developing sunburn that had prevented you from seeing how much that one nickname made his cheeks flush in that moment.

Your head popped out of the bathroom doorway, your makeup only half done, to aim a smartass smile at him with your lined lips. “Hey, I like to think of it as a gift. You should too.”

“Your ability to cry at the drop of a hat?”

“You're damn right,” you said indignantly.

Frankie sighed, pushing his hair back for about the dozenth time. He then laid back on the bed and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. “If we’re lucky, this is the first and last time you’ll need to worry about packing some to begin with. Will’s the last stop on the wedding train.”

The thought almost made him misty eyed. Within a few hours, he’d be the last single man in his crew. The last one awake at the sleepover. Eyes so wide they were practically ablaze staring through the uncertainty of night. Unable to find sleep. Unable to believe he’d ever find it to begin with.

Your voice cut through his trance. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Maybe next year we’ll get an invite for Tom’s second wedding,” you teased.

Frankie rolled his eyes. At least he could take some sort of comfort in that. Redfly had tried out the whole settling down thing. And it just didn’t work. Frankie wished his buddies well, but he couldn’t help but feel deep down that they’d never be made for domesticity. They weren’t made for teary-eyed speeches and destination weddings.

“Don’t count on it,” he drawled.

“Don’t count on it,” you mimicked Frankie’s slow, gruff voice which earned a small laugh from him. “I’ll tell you what, I bet you that Ben’s best man speech isn’t going to be nearly as good as Will’s was.”

He attempted to recall what Will had even said only a few months prior. It had to have been good, the man was a public speaker, for Christ’s sake. He guessed, “That one was long, right?”

“Yeah…don’t you remember it? Frankie, were you even there?”

“I was there alright.” He laughed to mask the wince he wanted to let out. Then he cleared his throat, throwing out another vague guess, “But I seem to remember that by the end of it, he needed some damn tissues too.”

“If you had a shithead little brother who managed to get married before he could experience massive head trauma, you’d probably get a little choked up too.” You added more to yourself than to him, “God, Frankie, how do you forget a speech like that? It was fucking beautiful.”

There was a very high likelihood that he had forgotten. Frankie spent almost every day following that entire night trying to forget it. And he wondered how in the world you remembered it either considering how much you’d drank.

If you could remember what Will had said…you should’ve remembered what you’d said too, right? You, standing in the bathroom and observing yourself in the mirror as you combed through your lashes to separate them, had to have known what you said to him that night. Because he knew it. Whether he liked it or not, he had that particular speech memorized with the way it ran through his head.

Frankie had known you were in a tough spot. Hell, it was part of the reason why he’d brought you along; part of the reason why Benny had insisted Frankie take you.

She just got broken up with, Frankie had tried to reason.

Benny had merely smirked, Which is the exact reason why you should invite her out. Give her a chance to get fucked up. Spend the night with one of the bachelors. It’s the quintessential wedding experience.

Frankie couldn’t have even pretended to mask his disgust at the idea. But he couldn’t lie…bringing you along again sounded leagues above going alone.

And now, sometimes he wished he had toughed it out instead.

No matter how much he tried to forget, the details always flashed through his mind. The way your fingers ran through his hair. How your touch managed to stay so soft despite how completely out of it you were. But that’s how you’d always been with him. Even at his absolute worst points when he was a less than ideal man, you found some shred of decency inside him that you never hesitated to cradle and nurture.

Maybe that’s what had made those tangles form in his stomach; the idea that he was taking advantage of that kindness.

Because that wasn’t…you. You wouldn’t have done that in your right mind. If your boyfriend hadn’t just broken up with you. If you hadn’t just found out that the entire time Nick had been cheating on you with that woman from accounting in his office. If you hadn’t drank way too much. None of this would be happening if you weren’t at your absolute lowest.

So he wiped the slate clean. It’d almost always been easy to do that. To simply forget. But he should’ve known better by now. Those things he somehow managed to lock up always found a way to ooze out of the cracks in his facade.

There were a few times Frankie thought you might crack during the ceremony. Especially when Will read out his vows, because of course the guy went the extra mile, delivering them with that stern reverence that made him the kind of guy you wanted on your team.

But you didn’t cry. This time…you grabbed his hand. It almost didn’t occur to him that you had until Will kissed his now wife and you squeezed Frankie’s hand in excitement. For a moment, he wondered if you’d managed to get a drink in before the ceremony. You couldn’t have; the bar wasn’t supposed to open until afterwards. He knew it couldn’t have been an alcohol induced action but he was still afraid to acknowledge it.

So he kept as still as possible. Even when the ceremony ended and you began to pull him around the venue. Though he knew his hand was getting clammier with every minute that passed, he let you drag him around the little circles of friends and family of the bride and groom. He had checked out enough that he didn’t quite realize what he’d gotten himself into until you were bringing him to the dance floor and positioning his hands on your hips.

Only when you let go of his hand and placed your own on his shoulders did it strike him how similar this felt to that night at Benny’s wedding.

You spoke like you were treading thin ice. “That speech was…surprisingly alright.”

“And you didn’t cry,” he remarked equally as carefully.

“I didn’t cry!” you exclaimed.

“It would’ve been fine if you had.”

You shook your head, “That wasn’t the kind of speech you cry at. It was simple. Sweet. I liked it. Who would’ve thought Benny’d have it in him, right?”

“So what do you do for that kind of speech?” Frankie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A polite clap. Maybe a cheer.”

“A cheer? Maybe you should’ve brought your pom poms instead of tissues.”

The way you scrunched up your nose into a playful grimace tugged at his heartstrings. Then you laughed, “Shut up.” God, he loved when you and him fell into this groove.

So he continued with the bit, “You should get some for Tom’s wedding. The guy deserves a whole damn squad if he gets all tied up again.”

“Thought you said I shouldn’t count on it?”

“If you’re gonna count on anyone getting married soon, it’s better if it was him.” Frankie clicked his tongue, “Not like I’m going off the market anytime soon.”

“Oh, Frankie, stop it.” Your smile dropped ever so slightly, eyebrows turned inward as you gazed at him with something akin to pity or sympathy; he wasn’t sure which was worse. “You have no idea what the future could bring.”

“Not a wedding, that’s for damn sure.”

Your expression only intensified. He recognized it well after the amount of times you’d talked him off a ledge. “You can’t just discount the possibility entirely,” you argued.

“I can and I will,” he said stubbornly.

You were quiet for a few seconds, “So you’re telling me you’ve never thought about it? I mean…who would your best man be?”

“I’m not answering that.”

Your lip quirks to the side of your face as you feign a contemplative look before concluding, “Probably Santi.”

“Look at you, you did it for me,” Frankie deadpanned.

“I could plan the whole damn thing for you, don’t test me.”

“Why’s that?”

This time you pressed your lips together. And Frankie swears he felt you stumble over your own feet ever so slightly; like he’d caught you off guard with the query. “Oh, you know…weddings usually aren’t those things that people are eager to plan.”

“But why would you specifically be planning it? Unless you’re–”

A beat passes before you break out into an incredulous grin. “You’d want me to marry you and plan our wedding? That’s a tall order. I’m afraid you’ll have to pick one or the other, sorry.”

Frankie chuckles. He let the remark pass. He always enjoyed this back and forth. How you and him had always been able to bounce off of each other. It was hard enough keeping up with some of the guys. But keeping up with women was a whole different story. He always seemed to be a few steps behind most of them. For some reason, your pace was just perfect. Your humor, your timing, it all clicked with his personality.

Just like you were prone to doing, you broke the silence with an awkward laugh and big eyes staring right into his. “So…which one do you pick?”

He almost didn’t catch the question; almost didn’t want to. “Hm?”

“Would you rather marry me or have me plan your wedding?” you clarify.

“Come on, you know I’m not answering that.”

And the tide shifted once more. Just as quick as you were to smile, your expression melted into one of muted mortification. Like you’d just tilted your hand a little too far

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled to yourself. Your hands slid off his shoulders and you wiped them off on your dress before wrapping them around yourself. That was when you retreated, leaving him standing there looking like more of a fool than he ever thought he had.

He stared after you for a few seconds, struggling to process what had just happened when it finally registered.

Soon he was following after you. How you knew to navigate the venue so quickly, he couldn’t be bothered to wonder. All he knew by the time he got to the lobby of the wedding hall was that something was wrong.

He spotted you rushing down the sidewalk as he stepped outside. In all his exasperation, all he could get out was, “Hey, what the fuck?”

The cool night air of the fall settled in and billowed around him like a curse. He wasn’t quite sure if the deep chill that ran down his spine was from the weather or the sight of you turning around, eyes already wet with tears that you were desperately trying to blink away.

Your voice came out hoarse as you shouted back, “You’re asking me what the fuck? No, Frankie, what the fuck is up with you? I kissed you…God…how many months ago? And you don’t say a fucking word. I keep talking about Benny’s wedding and you keep acting like none of it fucking happened.”

Frankie threw his hands up. “You were drunk. I don’t even remember how many fucking drinks you had.”

“I had a couple virgin cocktails,” you scoffed. The admittance wasn’t stubborn. But it did come with a tone of disdain, “I wasn’t drunk.”

“You wouldn’t–” he stopped himself. You wouldn’t have done any of that unless you were drunk.

“You acted like you were drunk.”

You shook your head. “I was having fun. I was with you and I was having fun, you dumbass.” Then you sighed, gaze darting towards the street nervously. “And I woke up the morning after and I thought that…I thought you would’ve at least said something. I thought you would’ve asked me how I felt. I thought you would’ve had the decency to at least check in. But you were just…you were completely fine.”

“I wasn’t fine…”

“And now you want to crack jokes about marrying me?”

Frankie wagged a finger in your direction, an almost childish defense. “You brought that shit up first.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Frankie, that doesn’t matter,” you muttered before raising your voice once more. “What matters is that I kissed you. I looked into your eyes and told you I fucking loved you and you said nothing.”

Hearing your voice say it again, even filled with such frustration, such anguish, he could help the way something fluttered in his chest. And even still, he shoved it down deeper than he ever had before.

“Because I wasn’t going to hurt you the way that Nick did.” He watched your gaze soften. “It would’ve killed me to hurt you like that.”

With the sounds of the city passing you both by, Frankie caught one of the worst sights possible. The tear that rolled down your cheek. And then the few more that followed, all shamelessly continuing their desolate stride down your neck. How you unclenched your jaw and unfolded all of the pain you’d kept since that summer into a few words. “You hurt me worse than Nick ever did.”

Your whole being compacted in on itself once more, recoiling from the vulnerable admission with a breathless conclusion. “Fuck you, Frankie. Fuck you.”

There it all was. And all he could think about was that night at Benny’s wedding. The night you told him you were glad Nick was gone. The night you smiled softly at him, thumb running over his bottom lip as you whispered.

I love you.

They were such fragile words. Words he hadn’t wanted to put any weight on, lest they shatter from beneath him and leave him falling face down in his own hopes. Because a small part of him had almost always hoped it was you. He never let himself truly believe the idea for long. But, God, he wanted to…could he still? He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back his own tears.

“I’m sorry.” His voice trembled in time with his hands. And he’d fully come to terms that it wasn’t just the cool air. He wasn’t a stranger to fearing for his life, with the work he’d once done, it was a given. But this wasn’t that. This was different. It was a fear of something a little more abstract. Because following this risk, there wouldn’t be oblivion. On the other side of his eyelids was a world where you either forgave him or you brushed him away. He certainly believed he deserved the latter with the way he’d been. But he’d never know unless he took the plunge.

When he opened his eyes again again he was grateful to find you still standing in front of him. He wouldn’t let this night steal his courage again. He repeated, voice firmer than before and charged with certainty, “I’m sorry.” Then finally replied, “I love you too. I love you.”

You gave him those hope filled eyes once more. He saw how it slowly morphed into joy; the kind that carried peace. You stepped closer, fingertips brushing against the material of his jacket as you reached for him.

Frankie closed the gap without any hesitation, his own hand moving to cradle your face as he moved in to kiss you. None of his recollections of the first time he’d done it could’ve ever lived up to the second one. There was no dread, no looming guilt, no fear. Only excitement and hope.

“If I could only pick one. I’d marry you. Any day…I’d marry you,” he mumbled against your lips.

You pulled back. And with his eyes still closed, he felt you smile as you answered, “Maybe I’ll ask you again next year. For now, let’s have this.”

“I can handle that,” he smiled then melted into you once more. And already it was something he knew he could easily get used to. Next time you asked, he’d be ready.

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#spacesisterssecretvalentine #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic

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andysorbit · 2 months

Note

I read your Jisung sfw and nsfw post…

Jisung is totally the type of guy who has dirty thoughts about you but he would never initiate anything sexual because he’s too scared of rushing you or making you uncomfortable, but if you were to ask him if he’d feel uncomfortable with the idea of y’all being intimate he’d get shy and struggle to admit he thinks about it way too often 🫢

sooooo.... I had started this because well... I'm always soft for that pinhead and this may be a bit redundant and some of it might not even mesh with what was in the other one but whatever we love our big fluffy boi

just as before this is fluff and light?? smut, fem!reader

if you wanna read the one mentioned, go here

MINORS, FUCK OFF

Boyfriend!Jisung Who...

Buys you flowers and slaps you with them because he's annoying

comes home with food all the time

and you complain but you love it because this man makes sure you're always fed

"if your tummy is always full, you can't run from me"

likes to hide your things because he wants you to ask him for help

"Andrew, I can't find my sewing kit"

"did you just call me Andrew?"

"Yes I did, Anderson..."

"d'you need help finding that sewing kit or not?"

he's a space boy so he's always talking about space and if he's drunk he's in the zone

"so aliens aren't stupid... if they're capable of creating and operating technology so advanced that they can travel all over the universe, then why do they keep crashing in cornfields? shit- why aren't they crashing anywhere else? I believe in them but I feel like mankind wants to be smarter and better than everything else so badly that they'll insult the intelligence of just about anything."

"aw babe you've really put a lot of thought into that"

"I had to... I needed to make sure it made sense before I mentioned it to you. I didn't want you to think I was crazy and dump me"

"Sungie why would I dump you?"

"for thinking I'm crazy.... I just said that but that's not important right now- you gotta keep up- this is serious, okay?"

calls your mom just because he can

"your mom said she hasn't spoken to you in a few days, why haven't you called her?"

"Maybe of you weren't always on the phone with her, she'd answer when I call her dude"

"Well she invited me out for brunch so maybe you can come along too"

"maybe?"

"y/n if you're jealous then just say so"

reads to you because he knows his voice is one of your favorite things about him

shares his little rants, rambles, and questions with you

"Okay but instead of sending Jesus to the cross, why didn't everyone get one chance to file for like... spiritual bankruptcy and then after that for every sin you commit then you have to do something that bothers you like walk around for a week with wet socks or with a piece of steak stuck in your molars?"

"baby, are you okay?'"

"no, I need answers."

is so respectful because he doesn't want you thinking he likes the sex more than he likes you

moans in your ear when you're close because he knows you'll cum harder if he's moaning and talking you through it

he can barely form a sentence if he looks at you for too long but he can look you in your eyes and talk dirty to you while he's throttling you

he loves the way his hands look around your neck

he has a big dick

like it's fucking huge and your favorite thing is when he's telling you that you take it just like a good girl should

he's cutie pooks in the streets and Mr. Park in the sheets

no seriously one day you called him Mr. Park and he practically took you right there

he loves watching the way you take his cock so he always slides into you so slowly that it's almost torture

had you convinced that he had the equipment but didn't lnow how to use it and after your first time together he was smug af

"are you okay?"

"Jisung... don't you... I thought..."

"what? you thought you were gonna have to fake it?"

he's nasty but he's classy about it

#neoculturecollectives #andy's mail #nct #nct smut #kpop smut #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #andyception #ANDY PARK #park jisung #park jisung smut #nct x black!reader

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bipp-bopp-time-to-stop · 3 months

Text

Far More Than Just A Mask

I'd like to thank @cloudninetonine for giving me the confidence to come out of the shadows and start posting the fics I write. I haven't really posted anything before, so I'm still figuring out how to use the Tumblr posting format. I'd also like to shout out @yanderelinkeduniverse @neverchecking @gliphyartfan @luimagines @yourlocaltreesimp and @wayfayrr as I was also inspired by their writings and content in general. To whoever stumbles across my fic and enjoys it, please go give these amazing people some love! With that being said, I'd also like to express my gratitude towards @linkeduniverse for their amazing work as their comics are what this fic is based off of. I hope everyone enjoys!

TW: Yandere themes, blood, possession, creeps be creepy

Your entrance into this journey filled with world hopping and a band of men all dubbed strange and woefully bad nicknames was… interesting. Thankfully enough, it wasn’t a truck send off level of isekai but it wasn’t the go to sleep and then wake up somewhere else type either. No, it was deciding to venture out at night for a rather dumb reason, immediately get lost, stumble across a strange portal, proceed to be chased into said portal by a pure black shadow with red eyes, and then stumble around in a forest you very much didn’t recognize. And then, of course, you stumbled across them.

They had dubbed their group The Chain since they were all Link (based on the expressions made when you were informed of this, it was clear who did and didn’t like the idea). After the initial shock based, you were suddenly bombarded with questions about… everything, really. The sheer amount of attention, combined with knowing a lot more than you should (in their eyes but they didn’t need to know that to the full extent), caused you to freeze. Well, internally freeze. As cooly as you could, you tried to answer the many questions thrown your way as truthfully as you deemed necessary.

“What’s your Hyrule like?”

“I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have one? What does that mean? Are you before Hyrule exists or did your Link… fail?” “I just don’t have one. It… never existed. A lot of what exists for you doesn’t for me- not outside of fairy tales, that is. Magic, fairies, multiple civilizations of different species, and more.”

“Why are your ears clipped? Is it a sort of fashion statement or a punishment?”

“Neither. I’m not Hylian, I’m human. Humans are similar to Hylians but we don’t have pointed ears and are usually a little taller than the average Hylian.”

“Why are your clothes so… weird…”

“They’re not weird to me. You guys certainly are, though.”

And the questions continued. After days of asking questions, which quickly broke past barriers and dug deeper than you were comfortable with, The Chain relented a little. It was clear as day that they didn’t trust you, not a bit, but they still “added” you to their little entourage. Dark Link, or Dink as they called him, had still pushed you through that portal like it did for the rest of them. Meaning, somehow, that you were fated to be a part of the Chain even though you were very far from being a Link. In truth, you knew probably half of them believed you might be colluding with the entity and were simply keeping tabs on you. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, as they say.

Thankfully, you weren’t a complete dead weight. You didn’t mind doing chores since you surely couldn’t battle. Despite some of your “exotic” looks (largely your ears, they’re still getting over that), merchants and townsfolk seemed to open up a bit easier to you. Plus, a lot of creatures from the mundane to mystical quite liked you for whatever reason. Were you not in the Champion’s Hyrule, that may not have stuck out as much as it did. On top of that, you knew first-aid better than most of them did. You were no genius in medicine, but you knew enough about the human body (thank you Forensic Files). You also had the “remedies” your Nana often chose over medicine- a lot less helpful in your world, but far more useful in nearly any Hyrule given the more mystical nature of, well, everything.

It took nearly two weeks for the mock friendliness to turn genuine and nearly a month and a half for everyone (including Legend, though he’ll deny it even if he were six feet under) to have a bit of trust in you. It wasn’t like the bonds they had with each other nor the ones you had with your friends back home, but it was something and that something showed. That fact certainly helped you sleep a bit easier during the night.

So now, here you sit around a campfire with the Chain after yet another day of traveling. Despite sitting in a circle, everyone was still a little grouped up and remained chatting in that group. Hyrule, Wild, and Wind were all conversing with each other in semi-hushed tones which made you believe some level of tomfoolery was sure to happen in the coming days. Sky, Four, and Wars were simply chatting about random things. Legend and Twilight were off on patrolling duty at the moment which was a bit of a balm for you given just how… prickly the Vet was in regards towards you at times (you knew it was mostly show, but that didn’t stop it from being aggravating). All of this left Time and you sitting beside each other in silence as one surveyed the camp and its occupants with a well-trained eye and the other lightly zoned out.

Although semi-zoned out, you weren’t entirely oblivious to the world. Your eyes drifted around and loosely observed the scenery although it was regarded as little more than static to your brain. By chance, your eyes drifted downwards and caught eye of a trinket that often sat on the hip of Time- a mask. Not just any mask, though. You hadn’t played Majora’s Mask before but you saw snippets of it and knew what the Fierce Deity mask was. You noticed from day one that Time- rather foreign in your eyes given the design you were used to- partly had the mask��s markings on his face. You had many guesses as to why that was, but you didn’t ask any.

“No- you can’t try it on,” Time speaks up as he quickly notices your stare at the mask. It jolts you a little as you didn’t realize just how long you had been staring at the aforementioned trinket.

“Oh? I wasn’t going to ask to but… well, now I’m curious as to why you don’t want me to. Is it special to you? I’ve never seen anyone else touch it before,” you ask as you stare at the mask in partly feigned curiosity, avoiding Time’s stare. Faking ignorance had grown to be second nature by now.

“Because everyone else knows that it’s good to stay away from it lest you risk tragedy. It’s a magical mask but the power it holds is… potent. Rather, who it holds,” Time cryptically answers with a small grin. It brings a little grin to your face as well that the mask wasn’t too sore a subject for the Old Man, but it was best to tread the waters lightly.

“Who it holds? There’s… a person in there?” You ask.

“Not just a person- a god. It’s called the Fierce Deity Mask as it holds a god of war within it. Put on the mask, and you become something of a vessel for him to use. Naturally, doing so is dangerous- extremely so- so don’t expect to be seeing it in use any time soon,” Time answers with a lit of strictness at the end.

“Can I… at least touch it? Or hold it?” You push, curious about many things in relation to the mask. What did a magical mask feel like in your hands? Could you feel the power of Fierce Deity wanting to be released? Could you maybe even hear him? Would your heart begin to pump loudly, as if trying to sync with a war drum? Time can practically hear your unasked questions, it seems, as he detaches the mask from his belt and hands it to you.

It’s weighty in your hands. Not heavy, but weighty. Its texture is smooth and makes it feel a little bit more like fine pottery than wood. Despite that, you knew you wouldn’t be able to break it by accidentally or purposefully dropping it (could it ever be broken? What would happen if it was?). Despite the chill in the air, the mask was warm. Something that could easily be attributed to being nearly sandwiched between your’s and Time’s body, but you felt like that wasn’t the case. Aside from that, the mask was almost… underwhelming. “What? Expecting something grand to happen?” Time lets out a short and breathy chuckle at the puzzled expression that must be on your face at the moment. “Yeah… I guess so,” You mumble, still holding the mask and looking at it in the eyes- or rather eye sockets. Randomly, you hold the mask up and away from you as if it were someone face to face with you.

“Hello, Fierce Deity, I’m (Name). A… pleasure to meet you? At least, somewhat…”

A beat of silence. And then another. And then another. And th-

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! D-Did you seriously just introduce yourself to a mask?!”

Your face burned crimson at Wind’s howling laughter and remark. Many others shared his laughter, including Time himself. Naturally, you looked straight down at your lap and didn’t even resist having Time take the mask back. So caught up in your embarrassing action, you and everyone missed the slight vibration the mask gave off. The second Time put the mask back on his hip was the moment you decided you’d turn in for the night.

Of course, your luck was little and fickle so some of the boys decided to poke at you further come the next day. While you settled beside a stream to wash clothes, it didn’t take long before Hyrule hopped over with a little grin as he propped up the Fierce Deity mask beside you. He made a little comment about how you appeared lonely before practically running off. Unsure of whether to snap at Hyrule or almost pity the god within the mask, you simply chose to go about your chores. You had a gut feeling that a few of the Links were likely lingering close by, so you did your best to stay tight lipped beside the mask. Which was hard since chore time (especially when it allocated some space between you and the boys) was also welcomed alone time. More often than not did you talk to yourself. Safe to say that having such time and space intruded upon left you a little… pent up for the rest of the day.

When the next laundry day came by, the same stunt was pulled (by Wild this time) but you couldn’t keep your silence. Camp was located a little further from the stream than it was at the previous site, so you felt a little more secure.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled out as you began to wash the pile of clothes beside you. By now, you’ve long grown used to the awful smell of them and you were thankful that, despite having a sculpted nose, the mask didn’t have nostrils. After a few moments of silence, you continued. “I, uhm… I’m sorry for the way that they’re treating you. Perhaps seeing the way I interacted with you that night caused them to grow a little too comfortable around you. I just ask that you forgive or at least tolerate the behavior- it’s an outlet for a handful of them. I know you’ve been with Time for awhile, so I know that you know full well the stress and trauma these boys have. It may seem like little to you given your rank as a deity, but I’m sure you’ve grown to understand mortals a bit better after hanging off the hip of one for years.”

After that, it felt like a dam had broken. Anytime you were off doing your chores, the Fierce Deity mask was there beside you. To the Chain it was a recurring joke that turned into a slight routine (something Legend hated since having something so powerful be near you was always something he despised). To you, it was finally a chance to talk- to vent without being judged. Well, you’re sure that Fierce Deity was judging you but you couldn’t hear him. Honestly, there were parts of your life that you likely sooner shared with the mask than you did with anyone else. It’s not like he can spill your secrets, anyway.

You wondered what he must have thought of you. An annoyance? A break? An interesting or perhaps strange mortal? Or did he just not care at all? Was he curious about your ramblings that described your passions, your home, your world or was it merely buzzing in his ears? You didn’t know and likely never would. At least, so you thought.

And it all started with a simple, and seemingly logical, decision from Time.

“I’m sorry- what? You’re wanting the Outsider to have the mask with them? Time, what the fuck?! We’re your sword brothers and we’ve hardly been allowed to touch the damn thing but now it gets to hang off of that witch’s hip?! What happens if we need to use it? Or what happens if they use it? We’re all screwed!” Legend practically screams as Time tells the Chain of his decision. You want to stand tall and face Legend, but you knew that his comment wasn’t entirely based off of his prickly personality (despite what may come out of his mouth). No, all of the boys were likely fretting over you having the mask given what it did to its wearer. If it could take down even a Hero of Courage, then what could it do to you?

“Enough!” Time snorted as he stared down the pink haired man. “The mask is not some secret weapon, let alone a toy (Wild, Wind, and Hyrule flinch), to be used at your leisure. That’s something this ‘outsider’ realizes better than seemingly all of you. As such, I’m entrusting it into their care to make sure it’s not abused. It is only for the worst case scenarios, do I make myself clear?”

“But the past few monster hordes have gotten stronger! I understand that (Name) acts as a field medic to the best of their ability but they stay away from battle when they can. It’ll be inconvenient and risky to let it be away from us for multiple reasons. What if a battle goes south fast and we can’t get to it in time? What if something tries to steal it from them? What if they have no choice but to use it and potentially lets Fierce Deity go on a rampage? I can guarantee that it’d hurt them,” Wars argues with a much more put together and logical rebuttal than Legend. That still doesn’t save you from the ever present glare the Vet has aimed at you and the mask.

“I’ve thought of all of this but I still believe this for the best. Besides, the hordes feel stronger because we’ve been dealing with smaller and weaker hordes for over a month now. Dink has been trying to soften us up a little and I can see that it’s worked based on our combined performance in the last battle,” Time huffs and deepens his scowl. He gives the Chain a thorough stare down before speaking again. “Anyone else want to pipe up?”

The only thing that spoke for about the next ten seconds was the breeze. After that short but tense “talk” was over with, the Chain was back on the move. Safe to say you were distracted as you and the boys traveled, though not by the gazes you felt on your person and on the mask. Rather… it was due to the mask itself. During the argument, it had been on your waist the entire time. With everyone focusing on whoever was taking their turn arguing with Time, they were all blind to the way the mask was reacting. Due to your close proximity to the mask for some time now, you knew full well that Fierce Deity could hear and see what happened around him from his wooden prison. He couldn’t speak, but he could make the mask buzz. He did it seldom, but seldom was not the word you would use for moments ago. Given how a lot of the boys still regarded him as an object, it must have pissed him off. Or, maybe, he was also a little pissed at how his new carrier was being treated. It was likely the former but you at least hope you’ve rubbed off on Fierce just a little bit by now.

…

‘On… put the mask on…’

Okay, maybe you’ve rubbed off on him a little… too much.

The freaky occurrences began to happen nearly a week after you were appointed as Fierce Deity’s new carrier. You didn’t notice the whispers at first as they were quiet and usually spoken while the boys were speaking. You also didn’t notice how the mask would move just a little bit whenever you set it down. Naturally, you couldn’t ignore it for forever- not as the mask only grew more active in regards to your ignorance.

The calls from the mask were getting closer by the day. It’s whisper- his whisper, grew louder for every night that passed. His voice was low and rumbling like a distant thunder, like an approaching storm. You’d put the mask on the other side of your tent (much to the displeasure of whoever you were sharing the tent with at the time) but it’d still end up only a foot or two away from you when morning came. Your once rather passive regard for the mask and the deity trapped within it was becoming… strained as the days went by. The boys noticed it, to the point you wondered if Time planned to take back the mask, but they (aside from a seething Legend) never commented on it. It should have come to the surprise of no one that the rising tension would eventually snap.

“You did pretty good out there today, Wind. I didn’t expect you to take out those three lizafols so quickly,” Wild complimented the young lad as he joined the group around the campfire.

“Ha, naturally! With my rate of improvement, I may even surpass the Old Man one day!” Wind puffed up his chest and grinned. The sight of his youthful happiness and high esteem caused the other men to either chuckle or feel a touch of nostalgia.

“Careful- we’ve seen what praise like that does to one of us,” Legend tsks as he side eyes Wars. The knight rolls his eyes but doesn’t clap back for once.

“It’s well deserved praise, Legend. Wind is truly improving- there’s no harm in letting him know,” Hyrule claims. The man opens his mouth to add more but is stopped when Twilight springs up from his spot and stands stiff as a board. The aura surrounding the rancher is tense as he eyes the tent farthest from the campfire.

“Uh, Twilight? What’s wr-”

“(Name)?” Twilight called out as he took a few steps towards the tent you were currently sleeping in. Due to his heightened senses, he could hear muffled grunts and whines of pain. Could you be having a nightmare? No, if it was a nightmare why did he feel so… worried? Scared, even? Based on the tense men around the campfire, they were starting to feel that as well.

Twilight walks, almost stalks, towards the tent. The wolf within was howling and snarling in the back of his mind, that something bad was happening. An almost shaky hand grabbed the fabric of the tent and… he stalled. Why? Why was he stalling? Why did it feel like he shouldn’t open the tent when he knew that he should? That he has to? That his friend- their friend- was in trouble? Why-

“Leave, Hero of Twilight. This is a private moment and you are not welcome.”

Twilight nearly flung the tent into the field.

A thrashing body was pulled from the tent and pinned down to the ground. Wild reached for the mask stuck to your face and tried to pry it away from you but it wouldn’t budge. While you weren’t transforming into the Fierce Deity, that didn’t mean you weren't under his influence at the moment. His voice had come out of your mouth, after all.

“Dammit! (Name)!” Time bellowed, kneeling beside the scene with an equal mix of anger and worry. Worry because he knows- Hylia does he know what that mask can do and angry at himself. He should have taken the mask back the second it started to show signs of attachment. He should have never let you have it- never let you even touch it.

Suddenly, you went limp. Grunts stopped on the tip of your tongue as you let out a drawn out breath. As if it wasn’t just stuck to your face like glue, Wild yanked off the mask with ease. Aside from some redness and even blood on the outline of your face due to the struggle, your face was largely unharmed. In fact, it looked eerily… peaceful.

Your arms slowly closed in and you hugged yourself. In gentle motions that appeared strange to the Chain- as if it wasn’t really you moving your appendages- you rubbed your arms. Your face settles into a more so neutral expression as you eyes flutter open for just a moment to reveal almost entirely white eyes.

“Shhh… you’re alright now, I told you that it would only hurt for a moment. Shhh…,” Fierce Deity gently spoke out of your mouth before your eyes returned to normal. With a tiny groan, your head lolled to the side as you blacked out.

Safe to say that it was absolute chaos when you woke back up.

Strained voices were arguing somewhere nearby and it didn’t help soothe your forming headache. With wobbly arms, you tried to push yourself up but failed as strength seemingly refused to return to you.

“(Name)? Thank the goddesses you’re awake!” Four pipped up in what sounded like absolute relief. Such relief was short lived as you watched Four get up and run off. You tried to sit up again in your sleeping bag but the weakness in your body persisted. Why? Why were you so weak? You went to bed early, dammit!

A baritone chuckle rings in your ears.

“I apologize for that, dear one. Your lack of strength is due to my actions last night.”

The voice was a shock to your system. You frantically looked around for its origin but couldn’t find it. Your confused actions caused the voice to nearly coo.

“Be not afraid, dear one. I am here, with you. That is why you can hear me.”

Light flooded the tent as what seemed to be a multitude of Links trying to force their way in. Time, thanks to his bulk and armor, was the one who managed to force himself to your side. His grip on your face was almost harsh as he looked over your face with a scrutinizing eye. His hardened scowl made your heart drop into your stomach. Buried fears of the Chain turning on you started to surface as nearly everyone gave you heated glares.

“What did he do? What did Fierce Deity do?” Time questioned as he still held your face, not letting go.

Fierce Deity- of course, how could you forget? Your panic that night as you rolled over and into an awaiting mask. The fear as he grabbed onto your mind despite his gentle tone.

“The mask… I… I rolled over and then it was on my face,” You answer meekly, unsure of what words to use because Time looked like he was about to blow a fuse. Anxious and a little frightened by the Old Man, you rambled on. “I swear that I put it on the other side of the tent! I promise I would never put on the mask like that! I-I… I… I’m going to ask you to unhand their face, Hero of Time. Scaring them will not grant you answers.”

Time let go of your face like it would burn him. A few of the boys behind him instinctively reached for their swords but paused. Even with the blank, white eyes staring back at them, this was still their friend’s face.

“What have you done? Why have you possessed (Name)? How?!” Wars interrogated Fierce Deity as he stared back at him.

“I have not truly possessed them. I merely created a bridge between our minds. It will not let me control them like this for much longer. I can only do so because it is still… fresh,” Fierce Deity explains, a ghost of a smile present in his voice.

“Really now? I don’t believe that for a second! Why else would you create this mental bridge if not to have them as a vessel?” Wild piped up as he tried to get close to his friend’s body. He failed to do so as Time practically shielded you from him.

“Personal reasons. I needn’t explain them to you, but I will assure you that I will not harm them. No, I would never force these innocent hands to slaughter. Not unless they were without choice,” Fierce Deity claims. As he speaks, he rubs your hands together as if enthralled with how gentle they felt compared to the calloused and aching hands he was used to guiding.

“And what, in your mind, is ‘without choice’?” Time pressed, grabbing your hands with a scowl.

“Conflict follows this group like a pack of starving wolves. There have been many times where death nearly sunk its teeth into their neck. Times I wish they would have donned the mask so that I could protect them and get them to safety. Unfortunately, they still believed in the half-truths you all told them were the full truth,” Fierce Deity rumbles as he stares down at Times grip with a less than pleased expression.

“I am not comfortable with what you’ve done to our friend. I don’t know if any of us may grow used to or comfortable with this, but… we also have no way to remove you from them. That does not mean we will not look or try. Don’t grow comfortable with this… this bond. It. Will. Not. Last,” Time threatens as he doesn’t bother to hide his disgust or displeasure. With a motion, he orders everyone else to leave. The Chain leaves the tent one by one, but not before speaking their mind. Once alone together again, Fierce Deity lets his hold slip. One or more of the heroes would come back, with more questions, and they would do so soon. So he would enjoy this little break while he had it.

“They are gone for now, dear one. No doubt they will return shortly, so let us enjoy this piece of quiet while we can.”

You lay on your side, feeling dizzy from Fierce Deity suddenly grabbing the reigns of your mind. Although he backed off once the Chain left the tent, his presence within was close. It was almost as if he was laying behind you, wanting to wrap his arms around you. Wanting to hold you close and only stopped by his lack of physical form.

“I am glad you do not have a heightened sense of smell. Their worry, rage, and envy- oh their envy- would have burned your nose. Ah, but… let us dwell on that no longer.”

Your hand was puppeteered to reach down to your side. Your were made to unclasp the mask from your belt and bring it up close to your face. Rather than putting it on, Fierce Deity touched his “face” against yours. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, and almost mouth to mouth.

“Mmm… so soft, as always. If I had need for sleep as you do, then I would not rest unless this is the sight that’s before me. And even then, I may be too enchanted to close my eyes.”

Phantom hands rubbed at your arms, your back, and then your cheek. They weren’t real, but with Fierce’s control of your imagination, they were. And you prayed that is was his influence, and not your own heart, that found it comforting and warm. You wanted to push back and take control but, due to the “fresh” nature of your bond, you would likely be at the mercy of the god for days.

“Rest, dear one. Rest your mind and body, you must still recover from our bonding last night.”

Those phantom hands circled around you and you feel as though you’re caged in an embrace.

“I will deal with the heroes should they come to disturb you. Know that I will not let them part us- not unless they’re looking to stir my rage.”

A kiss. It wasn’t real- it wasn’t, but the rough lips upon your forehead tempted your heart to will that they were.

“And I promise that one day, we will not have to rely on this spiritual bond. No, I will make up for these ethereal affections tenfold when I find out how to return to the material plane. No matter how long it takes. Not that we must worry about that, after all. Our time together… will be eternal.”

---

The next few days were perhaps the most tense you’ve ever experienced. Fierce Deity was a constant presence in your head, even as the bond between the two of you settled. He wasn’t chatty, but just rather curious and inquisitive. When he wasn’t asking questions about you, he was observing. He seemed to derive an almost twisted form of happiness whenever he saw how on edge everyone was around you now . He assured it was out of jealousy of him, not fear or hatred towards you. Were it actually out of new found ill-will… no, you weren’t going to imagine what the god would have in store for them.

True to his word, his hold over your mind lessened the more the bond settled in. No longer would you feel phantom hands wrapping around your own or resting on your shoulder. No longer would it feel like a large body was laying behind your own every night you fell asleep. No longer would it be his voice on your tongue to shoo away the boys should they do wrong in the war god’s eyes. No longer did it feel like he was breathing down your neck every waking moment.

In an attempt to hinder the god’s mysterious motives, you were quickly relieved of the mask he was bound to. It was once again on Time’s hip- now covered and tied up in cloth. Honestly, you were surprised it wasn’t buried into the storage of Wild’s Sheika Slate to create even more distance. Even with what happened, it seemed that Time didn’t have it in him to simply discard the mask. Perhaps he hoped to keep the deity in check, like he had done before you accidentally stirred the entity into action.

And it would seem that that is exactly what Fierce planned on him doing.

It was supposed to be a quiet night. The area was secure, dinner was cooking in the pot, and everyone but Time was idling around the fire. Wind chatted with you about every and anything that came to mind which pushed your focus onto the young man. With your distance from the mask and not thinking about Fierce, you felt nothing from the bond. You felt calm for the first time in awhile and everyone seemed to feel the same.

“Any idea when the Old Man is gonna be back?” Wars asks aloud, looking for nearly anyone to answer him.

“Soon. Dinner’s almost done and he’s not one to miss it. At least when I’m cooking,” Wild hums. It was a simple answer to a simple question, so no one said anything else. Still, it unnerved you. Time sought to set an example, so potentially being late to dinner was unlike him. Curious, you probed on the bond connecting you to Fierce. Even if he’d huff at you checking up on another man before him, you knew you’d get an answer. You always got an answer.

…

“I’ll look for him,” You state as you get up and walk off in the direction of where you last saw Time. Your sudden decision startled the boys and your nervous, almost haunted, expression did nothing to soothe them.

“Then I’m going with you. I don’t want you to getting close to him,” Twilight announces as he catches up to you. His tone left you with no room for an argument but you weren’t going to.

Not when Fierce was being eerily quiet.

You and Twilight took careful steps through the forest as he tried to retrace Time’s path. You both would stop and listen to the ambient sounds of the forest whenever something sounded off. The constant stopping and going only ramped up your nerves further as it kept punctuating Fierce’s refusal to communicate.

“I’m sure we’ll get an explanation when we find him. If you ask me, he might just be getting some alone time. He always does seem to have a lot on his mind,” Twilight piped up as he led you through the woods. The man offered a small smile but the strain on his face wasn’t lost on you. “Any word from him?”

“No. Nothing. It’s like… like there’s no bond at all,” You reply. “Ever since the incident, it’s never been like that. If anything, Fierce always made an effort to feel ‘present’.”

“Maybe… he’s also taking a break?” Twilight suggested, trying to be the optimistic. You shoot him a look and that optimism is quick to falter. Twilight doesn’t give up and faces you with an uneasy smile. He gently places his hands on your shoulders and rubs them a little. You feel that it comforts him more than you. “C’mon, think about it. You’ve said that he’s not as violent as we believe him to be, so m-”

“Remove your hands from them, Hero of Twilight.”

The air is squeezed from your lungs as Twilight suddenly pulls you into a shielding embrace. His fur pelt partly blocks your vision, but you can make out an imposing silhouette between the trees. How did the both of you not notice him?

Fierce Deity was striking. He has to at least be seven feet tall and he was clad in armor similar to Time’s but it was a steely silver, not gold. The armor was lined with white fur with an abundance of it on his collar. Long, flowing locks of white swayed in the night time breeze. Fierce’s silver-gray eyes were framed by strong and downturned brows. His stare was… intense, to say the least. But your eyes weren’t on his. No, you were focused on finding out why there were splatters of blood on him.

“What did you do?!” Twilight growled. “Where’s Time? What did you do to him?!”

“I won’t ask again, Hero of Twilight. Release them,” Fierce commanded as he began to walk towards the both of you. Twilight only seemed to tighten his hold in response. This was going to end up being ugly unless you did something.

“Stop!” You exclaim as you try and fail to wrestle yourself out of Twilight’s hold. Both men head your order but the tense atmosphere doesn’t dissipate. You shoot Twilight a glare but the hero returns it as he shakes his head. True to his word from earlier, he wasn’t about to let you get close to the god of war.

A strangle cough breaks the silence as someone stumbles through the brush. Thanks to the golden armor, you knew exactly who it was.

“Oh god, Time!” You exclaim as the older man leans against a tree for support. His face is banged up and actively dripping blood. His armor was smeared with the red liquid as if he had been trying to wipe off the blood over and over again. Blood bubbled up from Time’s lips as he tried to gurgle out words. The pathetic sight was enough to shock Twilight into action as he let go of you and zipped towards the injured man.

“Ancestor! What happened?! What did he do to you?” Twilight questions as he supports the bloodied man. More gurgles and grunts leave the man’s mouth as he tries to answer the younger man’s questions. It’s clear to all present that Time is in no shape to answer questions despite the desperate need for it.

“Take him back to camp and have him healed up,” You order. The order earns you a stern shake of the head from both Twilight and Time, but you refused to budge. “Now, Twilight! I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Go take care of him,” Fierce chimes in as he looks back to the two men. “No harm shall befall them. You have my word.”

With a tough choice to make, you can see the exact moment when a hero’s instinct takes over Twilight. He lifts up Time and barrels through the forest back to the camp. In the blink of any eye, you’re suddenly left alone with the very person who had to have harmed Time. You’re so out of your league in the current situation that you probably couldn’t even see the playing field on the horizon, but you weren’t about to back down.

“My dear-”

“What did you do to him?” You confront as you stand up as tall as you can. It’s nothing compared to the towering deity, but you weren’t about to let that stop you. Fierce seems amused by your actions. He leisurely walks towards you with his hands by his sides and a small smile on his face.

“Nothing too rash, my dear. Just a broken nose and some scraps to the face. Head wounds tend to bleed quite a lot, as you know,” Fierce answers vaguely.

“Why did you hurt him?” You continue to question as you start to back up. You wanted to keep distance between the both of you in case you had to turn heel and run. Not that’d you’d get very far, but you could only hope.

“I didn’t mean to hit him hard. He came at me and I punched him, simple as that,” Fierce assured as he continued his approach. “Surely, my dear, you believe me? You know I would not hurt another without reason.”

“The mask- how did you escape the mask?” You press as you do your best to keep your distance.

“That wooden prison was old and ready to crack. I never saught to free myself from its binds as there was little in this world that tempted me forward. Well, little until you came around. Ah, I still recall how gently you held me in your hands that night…” Fierce hummed as he closed in. It didn’t take long for him to corner you against a tree. Frozen against the trunk, you could no longer keep space between the two of you. Fierce leaned down and grabbed your hands with his own. He pressed them against his face and he stares straight into your eyes.

“Hello, (Name), I’m the one they call the Fierce Deity. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Words evaded you, as did action. You didn’t pull away nor did you do anything else than having allowed Fierce guide your actions. The god chuckles at your frozen deer response as he moves his hands under your arms and lifts you up. You cringe as he holds you close and blood seeps into your clothes and the smell of iron assaults your nose. Fierce nuzzles against your cheek and buries his strong nose into your shoulder. In your shock, you can’t tell if he kisses your shoulder or if it’s just your imagination.

“YOU BASTARD!”

A growl reverberates through you as Fierce grits his teeth. His embrace tightens as he turns to face a small group of men. A near foaming at the mouth Legend leads the party of enraged me. Upon seeing you in the grasp of the deity, the rabid man refrains from attacking but it’s clear he’s waiting for his opening. A similarly enraged Sky, Four, and Wars follow behind him and a snarling Wolfie is quick to catch up with the group.

“Quell your tongue, Veteran. They’re already stressed enough,” Fierce huffs as he rubs a hand up and down your back.

“Then let them go! Can’t you see that you’re scaring them even further?” Sky argues as he adjusts his grip on the Master Sword. Unlike Legend, he’s not still on his feet as he begins to move in an attempt to flank Fierce. Wars and Wolfie catch onto his plan while Four stays steady beside Legend.

“They are shocked, Hero of the Sky. Their senses are overwhelmed at the moment from tonights events,” Fierce dismisses the claim. He takes his eyes of the men and looks at you. His voice his low and gentle when he addresses you. “Correct, my dear? You know I’d never want to harm or scare you.”

You shrink away from Fierce and refuse to look him in the eye. The actions draw out a sigh from the god but he doesn’t force a response out of you. Instead, you feel yourself sway with his body as he begins to move. There are shouts and orders from the other men to stay still but Fierce acts as if they were little more than the surrounding scenery.

“Let’s get you back to camp. You must be hungry after all of this excitement. Can you hold a spoon? I’ll feed you if you can’t,” Fierce murmurs to you as he walks. You nod in response and the god sighs again. “Come now, my dear, what has happened to that beautiful voice of yours? Do not tell me you’re so mad at me that you’d cut me off from such sweet melodies?”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

Fierce slows to a stop. You can practically feel the puzzled expression radiating off of his face.

“My dear? What are you talking about?”

“Why are you calling me ‘my dear’?” You repeat as you pull away from Fierce’s shoulder. You can see his face scrunch up at your remark. You also see the men who confronted him following close behind.

“Because you are dear to me, (Name). You treated me fairly and sweetly, like I was a man- not a mask. You’ve told me more than what you’ve told anyone else. You always seemed happy to be near me for the longest time. Even after my brash actions that night, you still didn’t entirely recess into fear,” Fierce answers with a strong tone. “You may not realize it, but that is very important to me. You are very important to me and by the Golden Three do I intend on making that clear.”

Fierce resumes his large gait back to the camp. When he arrives, the reception is chilly. No one moves for their weapons but nor does anyone stay far away from them. Finally, Fierce sets you down onto the ground. You slump down to the soil below you as you take in deep breaths, unaware of how shallow your breathing had been before.

“Get a bowl of food ready- and don’t be skimpy,” Fierce orders as he stares down Wild. Wild grumbles something you can’t make out but he portions out a bowl for you. Fierce takes the portion from the cook before he can even leave the pot to give it to you. He settles himself by your side before shifting you into his lap. A spoon is brought up to your lips before you can argue. At the very least, Wild’s cooking never disappoints.

“Getting comfortable?” A rough voice breaks through the ambience of the night. A now healed but still beaten up Time stares down Fierce without a shred of fear. You immediately notice that he has both eyes open, and they’re both normal. Not to mention the fact that his face was now free from markings.

“Very,” Fierce curtly replies. He doesn’t bother to face Time as he’s focused on feeding you. The deity coos at you as your mouth is stuffed with food and your cheeks puff up as a result. The actions from the towering entity is… strange and off-putting to all present. The boys are stuck between glaring at the deity or cringing at his out of character actions. Fierce couldn't care less.

The evening passed by without much more incident. Everyone was jumpy and gave you and Fierce space despite the expressed distaste towards the new addition. There would be no knight in shining armor for you tonight, so you only hoped that Fierce would keep his word on treating you kindly.

Based on how he clung to you when it was time to go to bed, he seemed only further convinced he needed to assure you of that promise. He had shed his armor so you didn’t have to have metal pressing into you. He had also wrapped you up into a blanket burrito (something he made clear he learned from you and your ramblings) to limit the amount of skin on skin contact between you. He wasn’t blind to his intensity, so he was doing his best to restrain himself. You could only hope he’d keep up the will to do- for everyone’s sake.

“Sleep tight and sweet dreams, my dear,” Fierce whispered as he fiddled with the blanket covering you and stray strands of your hair. “I will be by your side the entire night, should you need me.”

“Okay…” You mumbled out as you wanted to do nothing more than hide away into your blanket. You closed your eyes but no amount of counting sheep would make falling asleep easy. Not with arms caging you to a man ever hungry for even your attention. Ever hungry for even a sliver of affection. By Hylia, what have you gotten yourself into.

“I love you, my dear,” Fierce mumbles as he believes you’re on the brink of falling asleep. “And remember… my love for your is eternal.”

And by the Goddesses, how do you get yourself out?

A wide and fanged smile cracks against the skin of your neck. A dark and hopefully playful chuckle leaves the god of war’s lips.

“You don’t.”

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #lu fierce deity #yandere lu fierce deity #linked universe x reader #yandere lu #Yandere lu x reader

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a-little-unsteddie · 4 months

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stuck in your throat || 2.1

[here] || 2.2 || 2.3 || 2.4

i am almost done with writing ch 3, and that means i can publish chapter 2! woo! thanks for everyone’s patience! i’ll be posting twice a week! wed and sat :) this is a short part, but the other three parts are all *much* longer lol.

ch 1, part 1

masterlist

By the time Steve got home, it was a little after six in the evening, so he wasn’t sure if he would hear from Chrissy that night or not. Either way, he was very excited to be able to tell Robin that he got the job.

He felt a buzzing under his skin, an itch to do something productive, so he went to his bedroom and began to sort out his clothes. He immediately realized that he didn’t know how long the tour was going to be, so he pulled out his phone and added the question to his notesapp. How he went so long without asking about it was beyond him, as it seemed like a bit of information that was important.

Putting his phone down, Steve returned to his open closet and stared at his clothes in contemplation. It was at some point after this that he received a call, after he’d started filling a suitcase but before he’d even filled it half way.

Recognizing the number, Steve answered, “Hello, this is Steve speaking.”

“Hello, Steve! It’s Chrissy, how are you?” the woman on the other end responded with a cheerful tone.

“Hi, Chrissy! I’m good, how was your day?” he asked with a wince, god, he hated small talk.

“It was great, thanks for asking!” she answered. “The reason for my call is to let you know that you’ve been chosen as the best qualified candidate! I’ve already emailed you the paperwork that needs to be filled out, as well as details of the contract.”

“Oh, my god! Thank you!” Steve said, trying to act surprised, and not as though Eddie had already told him.

“I know Eddie already told you,” well, there went that, “but I still wanted to call you and let you know officially.”

“Uh, yes, he did tell me,” Steve admitted, slightly embarrassed, but pushed through.

He hated phone calls.

“That’s alright, I figured he would. Do you have any questions for me?” Chrissy asked, a clicking sound happening that Steve assumed was her fidgeting with a pen.

“I do, actually! Two.”

“Great! Hit me with ‘em.”

“How long should I pack for?” Steve asked, biting his lip nervously. He looked at the mess he had created of his room again, this time while trying to pack his suitcase.

“The second half of the tour is about two and a half months, but depending on how things go, you could be hired for a full time position while he’s not touring,” Chrissy answered easily, to which Steve hummed as he filed the information away. “We’ll also be sleeping in hotels some of the nights, so you’ll have access to laundry units in them.”

“Sweet! And, well, the second question might be a bit rude,” he confessed, leaning to rest his back against his bed.

Chrissy’s laughter echoed from the phone, “I’m sure I’ve been asked worse. What is it?”

“Do you happen to be hiring for any other reasons? My best friend, Robin, is looking for a full time job so she doesn’t have to work three part time jobs,” Steve explained, trying to be as appropriate as possible while inquiring about another job for a different person.

“Funny you should ask,” Chrissy said, sounding as though she were grinning, “a stipulation of Eddie getting a nanny is that I would hire an assistant to help with my workload for the band. I’ve only received two applicants, so I’d be more than thrilled to add a third to it. I’ll email you the listing to send to your friend.”

“Really? I honestly didn’t expect that to work,” Steve said, mildly impressed with himself.

Chrissy laughed again, “Well, I haven’t hired her yet,” she teased.

“Still, the only thing I was hesitant about was leaving her behind,” he grabbed a random shirt and started folding it to have something to fidget with. “I’m glad that there’s a chance. I’ll definitely have her send in an application.”

“Great! Any other questions?” she asked, to which Steve responded in the negative.

“Not at the moment, no.”

“I’ll get you the information of what we talked about, then, and you should be good. We’ll see you on the 17th.”

“See you on the 17th,” Steve confirmed with a wide smile. The line went dead, and he immediately checked his email for the documents she had sent before the call.

i tagged everyone who was tagged in ch 1, and anyone who requested it in the last part. lmk if i missed you, and if you want to be added, verify either in the comments, tags, messaging me, or your bio that you’re 18+. thank you <;3

@marklee-blackmore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @steddie-as-they-go @disrespectedgoatman @lingeringmirth @hyperfixated-on-stuff @swimmingbirdrunningrock @littlewildflowerkitten @sani-86 @thegingerrapunzel @adventures-in-mangaland @missingmalfoy1 @yellowdevilkitten @extra-transitional @queen-stevie @stevesbipanic @crypticcorvidinacottage @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @eyehartart @gutterflower77 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @fairytalesreality @dawners

#and so it begins :D #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie #omega!steve #alpha!eddie #stuck in your throat #siyt 🎤#unsteddie writing

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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The Stars Align | Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: Your hopeless crush on Eddie Munson might not be so hopeless after all thanks to a trip to family video

Content: fluff, Steve has a little crush on you but you’re into eddie, swearing, making out, mentions of bullying, she/her pronouns, reader is a year younger than Eddie

Word Count: 3.1K

a/n: i haven’t posted a fic in so long i’m so happy i was actually able to finish something! i hope you all enjoy :)

divider by @firefly-in-darkness

“Oh my god, Robin, she’s here! How does my hair look?” Steve asks frantically as he sees your car pull into family video. “Who is it this week?” She sighs, growing tired of seeing Steve strike out again and again.

“You already know who it is. I’ve been using my best work for weeks and…nothing” he groans. “Really? Telling her about the time you had a dental emergency due to milk duds is your best work?”

Before Steve can respond, the bell above the door rings and you walk in, looking as pretty as ever.

“H-hey! Haven’t seen you in a while. I hope you aren’t cheating on us with blockbuster” Steve says when you approach the counter and Robin cringes so much that she has to walk away.

“Nope” you say with a laugh “I’ve just been busy, but I finally have a night to myself. Can you check if you have a movie for me?”

“yeah, anything for you- I mean, um anything for a loyal customer not like I’d do anything for you. Well, I might, but not in a weird way-”

“Steve” you chuckle “I didn’t think it was anything weird. Until now”

“Right, yeah. Sorry. Anyways, what movie are ya lookin’ for?” He sits at the computer to pull up the movies on file. “Nightmare on Elm Street”

“Actually, my friend, Eddie, rented that yesterday, but I can see if he’s watched it yet so he can bring it back for you?” he suggests

“Eddie munson? You’re friends with him?”

“Oh, yeah, but don’t worry he doesn’t actually worship the devil he’s just like this huge nerd with a weird taste in music”

“No, I know. I just, uh, think he’s really cute”

“Oh” he says in a bit of disbelief. he’s been trying to ask you out for weeks and this whole time you’ve had the hots for Eddie. “You think he’s cute?” Robin asks, appearing out of nowhere with a big smile on her face.

“y-yeah. there’s something about the big brown eyes and long hair, i guess” you sigh, dreamily while Steve thinks hey, i’m a guy with brown eyes and a lot of hair.

“Ya know what, feel free to look around and we’ll take care of something real quick” Robin says and you wander off to the horror section.

“Call Eddie” She tells Steve.

“What? Why?”

“This is fate, Steve. She wants to rent the same movie Eddie just rented and she also happens to be, like, totally in love with him” She states and he rolls his eyes. “In love, Robin? She said he was cute because he has eyes and hair.”

“Aw, you’re jealous.” she teases. “Well, kinda. I wanted to ask her out and I haven’t had any luck in months with anyone.” Steve whines

“Think about it. Do you really wanna ask a girl out who’s into one of your closest friends? That’s obviously a recipe for disaster, so call him” Robin says and Steve groans. He hates when she’s right, but he picks up the phone and dials anyway.

“Hey, munson. Have you watched Nightmare on Elm Street yet?”

“I got it yesterday, Steve, what’s the rush?”

“There’s a pretty girl here who wants to rent it”

“And what do I have to do with that?” Eddie asks, thinking Steve is just trying to use his ‘position of power’ (Steve’s words, literally no one else's) to try and impress any cute girl that walks through the door.

“Well, somehow the universe keeps finding ways to laugh at me because when I told her my friend Eddie has it she said you were cute or something” you can overhear Steve and you could die of embarrassment. You had flashbacks to middle school when your best friend told your crush that you liked him and he made fun of you for the rest of the school year.

“I am cute, Harrington and you know it. Who is she?”

Steve tells him your name and Eddie's heart practically stops for a second. He can’t believe the pretty girl he’s had a crush on for years thinks he’s cute.

“I’ll be right there” Eddie says before hanging up and sprinting out the door with Nightmare on Elm Street in hand.

“Welcome to Fam- Oh, it’s just you. She’s in the horror section” Steve grumbles when Eddie walks in. “Why do you have that look on your face?” Eddie asks Robin. Her eyes are big, smile even bigger with a hint of her ‘I just came up with a master plan’ look. “No reason, just go find your girl”

Eddie strolls over to find you and you look as gorgeous as always. You’re wearing a dress that stops halfway down your thighs, leaving your beautiful legs exposed, your lips shimmer from the gloss you put on, and you have an adorable look of concentration on your face as you look through the movie selection.

“Hey, you must be the pretty girl who’s just dying to watch this movie” He finally speaks up after admiring you. You turn to him and smile “you brought this back for me? you didn’t have to do that. did you at least get a chance to watch it?” You walk closer to him and the smell of your perfume makes him crazy. Everything about you just gets better and better.

“No, but it’s alright. I saw it in theaters, so it’s no biggie”

“Now I feel bad. You obviously wanted to watch it again and i’m only renting it because I’m like the only person who hasn’t seen it yet”

“You haven’t seen this masterpiece yet? It came out four years ago” he gasps and holds up the movie, making you giggle. Music to his ears.“I know. I’m lame”

There’s a beat of silence and if anyone were to look at Eddie, they could practically see the wheels turning in his head. For years, he’s been trying to find a way to work up the courage to just talk to you and now it feels like he’s been presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Maybe we could watch it together” he suggests and feels like he’s stopped breathing until you give him an answer. You look up at him with your captivating eyes and nervously fiddle with your hands. “Yeah, I’d really like that” you respond and Eddie feels like he could do ten cartwheels right here in the middle of the isle. Little does he know you feel the same way.

“Yeah? Are you free tonight around eight?’’ He asks and you nod. “Can I get your address?”

Luckily, you had a scrap piece of paper and a pen in your purse and you write down his address with shaky hands due to the nerves from being asked on by the guy you’ve been hopelessly pining after for years.

“So, I’ll see you tonight?” He asks as you both walk over to the door. Steve and Robin are watching you both like hawks, but quickly act like they are working when Eddie shoots them a glare.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” you promise and he flashes his million dollar smile. “Me too. I mean, of course I will, it’s my house so why wouldn’t I be there, um, anyways I’m gonna go before I say something stupid again” He chuckles, nervously.

“I should go too. Thank you for bringing that movie back” You touch his arm in appreciation and his head spins at the feeling of your touch. “No problem. Plus, this movie might be too scary for you to watch alone”

“Yeah? Are you gonna protect me?’’ you step closer to him, hand still on his arm.

“With my life, sweetheart”

Ten minutes before eight, you park outside of Eddie’s trailer. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening after wanting this for as long as you can remember.

You had transferred to Hawkins High your junior year, which was Eddie’s first senior year and you’d been smitten since. On your first day, he had one of his infamous outbursts in the cafeteria, and while everyone else was mortified, you couldn’t help but be intrigued at his passion. He was always loud and never let anyone’s opinions of him change who he was. It was admirable

The two of you never had many interactions besides when you’d let him borrow a pen in science class. You were always too afraid to ever say anything to him about the way you felt, and when you graduated while he stayed behind, you’d thought your chance had passed you by. Now, three years after you graduated, you’re standing outside his front door about to watch a movie with him. Life is funny like that.

“Hey- fuck, you look good” Eddie’s words slip out before he can process that he said it out loud and you chuckle “Really? I just threw on some comfy clothes, but thank you”

“You always look good. Anyways, welcome to my humble abode” He bows and motions for you to come inside. You look around once you're inside, taking in your surroundings. You’re in Eddie Munson’s living room and you know it’s silly, but it feels like things are finally falling into place.

“Make yourself at home, I’m gonna get the popcorn. Do you want anything to drink? I got some coke it you want one”

“Yeah, that’d be great” you answer as you sit on the couch. He puts the popcorn in a bowl and pours you both a drink. You take note of the Garfield mug he’s put his drink in and you smile at how adorable he is.

“Lights on or off?” he asks after he puts the movie in. “Off, obviously. Gotta have the whole experience, right” He nods in agreement, turning off all the lights until the tv is the only illuminations. When he sits on the couch, he sits right next to you leaving no space and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Eddie’s confidence seems to grow in the dark. He does that cheesy thing where he pretends to yawn and stretch so he can put his arm around you. It’s cliche, but it makes both of you smile, nonetheless.

As you sense a jumpscare approaching, you nestle closer to his side and hide your face in his neck. He can feel your breath fanning on his skin and he can’t seem to think straight. When you hear a scream from the television, you jump a little and he chuckles. “This coming from the girl who wanted to turn the lights off” he jokes

“Hey, don’t make fun of me. I was promised protection and that’s supposed to come without torment” You move your head to look at him and when he looks back at you, your faces are so close together your noses are almost touching. You’re about to put your lips on his until another scream comes from the movie, causing you to jump again.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks in a whisper. “yeah, anything” you move to position yourself more comfortably, but still close to him.

“I’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you since high school” he confesses and your eyes widen in surprise. “you have not”

“Cross my heart. You were the only person to smile at me when I’d pass you in the halls. You weren’t afraid of me like everyone else.”

“Why would I be afraid of you? You’ve always seemed like a teddy bear wrapped in leather to me.” You think it sounds too cheesy when you hear it out loud, but Eddie thinks it makes you even sweeter.

“Teddy bear, huh? I didn’t work this hard for my bad boy image to be compared to a stuffed animal” he jokes. “Bad boy image?” you scoff “You’re drinking out of a garfield mug”

“Alright, you got me there, but Garfield is a total badass”

“If you say so. Can I tell you something now?” you ask and he lets out an mhmm before you continue. “I’ve had a crush on you since highschool, too.”

“No shit? I mean Steve told me you thought I was cute but I thought he was just fucking with me” Eddie seems to be playing it cool at your confession, but he’s screaming on the inside.

“It was my first day at Hawkins and you were hard to not take notice of after one your cafeteria spiels. I remember everyone thinking you were obnoxious or a freak, but I was just enamored with you.”

“You never thought I was some satanist sacrificing children? I think you were the only one” he huffs out a laugh. Eddie’s life has been easier since high school. He still gets some weird looks every now and then, but things have calmed down. Although he always put on a brave face, some of those days were harder than others. It’s nice to know that you never thought he could be capable of doing those things he was accused of.

“I always felt guilty that I never stood up for you. I hated watching them berate you and what I hated even more is that I was too scared to ever say anything to them” you say, looking down at your lap to avoid eye contact.

“Don’t feel guilty about that. They wouldn’t have stopped anyways” he places his hand on your thigh and you turn your head to look at him. He has a look of appreciation in his eyes, like he’s trying to let you know that you didn’t need to say anything to those assholes. Just you being thoughtful for him is enough.

“I even left a note in your locker one day. It was when one of those idiots tore pages out of your campaign notebook and I guess I just wanted you to know that there was someone on your side”

“That was you? It’s been driving me crazy for years trying to figure out who that was!”

“you got it?” your eyes light up.

“I did. Still have it, too. This is probably embarrassing, but I’d read it whenever I had a bad day. I guess I didn’t want anyone to know that anything ever got to me and that I was above it all” He sighs. Eddie likes that he can be vulnerable with you. He hardly ever opens up to anyone about anything, but there’s just something about you that makes him comfortable. He feels like he could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge him for a second.

“Do you still have it? The note?” you ask and he scurries to his room to rummage through his nightstand where he keeps it.

“Closest thing I’ve ever gotten to a love letter” he says before handing you the piece of paper that reads:

Eddie,

Sorry if this is weird, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how they treat you. I think you’re awesome and I hope you think that too. This town is a little less shitty with you in it. Never change

P.s. you look really good with long hair please don’t cut it

You chuckle when you read the last line. “I can’t believe you kept it. I knew I was right when I called you a teddy bear. You’re secretly a big softie, huh?”

“The softest. But only for you, yeah?”

“So that crush on me you had in high school… do you still have it?”

“It never went away, but now it’s even bigger than some teenage puppy dog shit”

Everything around you seems to drown out. You’re too focused on how close Eddie’s face is to your own. His lips look so soft and pillowy, the perfect shade of pink. You scan over the rest of his face, entranced with his beauty. His eyes are even prettier up close. You could count his eyelashes with how little distance there is between the two of you and you think that one day you will.

Right now, the one thing you’ve wanted the most is quite literally staring you right in the face. Not a loud sound from the movie, or even if the end of the world was happening right outside could take you away from this moment.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, hand coming up to cradle your face. “Please” you barely get out.

Eddie gently places his lips on yours and it feels like this weight you’d be carrying around had been lifted from your body. Nothing in your life has felt more right than this kiss.

You’re kissing Eddie Munson. The boy from the hallway that always gave you a kind smile and made you weak in the knees. The boy from your science class who never had a pen. The boy who you’ve wanted since you were 17. You always criticized yourself for never getting over what you thought was just a silly little crush, but it’s always been more than that. Every moment leading up to this has been worth it and you’d do it all over again if it meant you got to kiss him.

You instantly miss his lips on yours when he pulls away and you can barely stand it, so you pull him back in. This kiss is more intense. You melt when his tongue glides into your mouth and his hand moves to hold your waist. You both put all of your feelings and passion into this kiss. It’s pure electricity.

You wish you didn’t need oxygen to breathe. You wish you could live forever in this position, but unfortunately that isn’t the case, so you both slowly break apart but not without him giving you a few pecks before fully pulling back.

His pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed. His hair is a little messy due to you threading your hands through his soft curls. He’s never looked more beautiful.

“So, I know this was only our first time hanging out, but- uh- do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks, nervously and you smile so big that it causes your eyes to wrinkle.

“I’d love to” you simply answer.

“Yeah? You wanna be mine?’’ he smiles as relief washes over him.

“I’ve always been yours”

Nightmare on Elm Street has been long forgotten. Eddie restarted it twice, but each time you both end up in deep conversation and he’s kissed you more times than you can count. Maybe one day you’ll watch it, but today isn’t that day. Not when you’re sitting next to the most kissable person on earth.

The End

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson on #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic

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