#i will never let go of them. drawing this has cheered me up. they are with me
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Say My Name
Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader
Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before
Warnings: 18+ content
Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”
The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.
You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.
“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.
Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.
You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”
No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.
Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”
He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.
You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”
But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.
“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”
You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”
“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”
“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”
Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.
The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.
Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.
Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”
Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”
Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.
“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.
You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.
I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.
Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.
Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.
Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.
Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?
Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.
No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.
Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.
“Oscar, what are you-”
But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.
Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.
With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”
Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.
The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.
“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”
He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.
“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”
Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”
Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”
He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”
The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.
The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.
After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.
He’s your everything.
***
Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.
“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”
His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.
When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.
“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.
You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”
“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”
“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”
Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.
On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”
A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.
When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.
Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.
It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.
Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.
He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.
When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”
“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.
But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.
“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.
“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.
His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.
“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.
So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.
At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.
All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.
Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.
“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”
His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.
“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.
You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.
His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.
“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.
The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.
It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.
Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.
“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.
More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.
At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.
The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”
He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.
Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.
Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...
Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.
You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.
When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.
You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.
When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.
“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”
So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.
At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.
When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.
As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.
For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.
Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.
You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.
Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.
Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.
Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”
He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.
“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”
He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.
“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”
Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?
Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.
“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.
So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.
“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”
His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.
“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”
You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.
And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.
Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#oscar piastri#op81#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#oscar piastri x female reader#oscar piastri x y/n#mclaren#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastri drabble
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wanted to adapt the google search results a gay woman got in a japanese drama "tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna" which is good btw.
#witch hat tag#orufrey#the most light and gentle version of flirting-like behaviour of all time - a mutual passing thing - a peaceful dance through the long years#a way to work you out.. a way to express something about myself. all these steps are leading up to that beautiful magic#that you read about once. but actually we've been making it all this time... many many steps to this wonderful recipe.#the only non-perfect & non-fated thing about them is that oru is gay but (imo) qif could easily be transfem at any time. don't test him#oru being a woman wouldnt change anything for qif but oru is gay as hell.. However if qif was a woman then it'd be fine anyway no doubt.#oru would give in his membership to the Gay Men's Picnic Club group he goes to and embark on this life instead..many such cases#also i was typing “am i gay” into google when drawing tsukutabe fanart to check what google looks like#and “am i depressed” was the autofill for “am i”. qif's life is like: maybe he would have looked up something like oru did#but he got a bit distracted and started reading about cptsd instead which seemed more pertinent. sometimes childhood goes this way <3#anyway Tsukuritabe..Kinou nani tabeta...And witch hat kitchen.... the trio of gentle silly 30+ gay couple situations..ohh..#orufrey are the combo of those. like tsukutabe they aren't together yet. like kinou nani tabeta they are a long-term couple. beautiful#i will never let go of them. drawing this has cheered me up. they are with me
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Medieval Scorpions Effortpost
So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:
The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".
Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.
As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".
Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.
See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:
That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?
So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.
And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.
*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.
Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.
And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.
11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)
12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)
12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)
12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)
13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)
13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)
13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)
13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)
13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)
13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)
13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)
13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)
14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)
14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)
14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)
15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)
I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.
#medieval#medieval creatures#medieval art#scorpions#medieval scorpions#manuscript#medieval manuscripts#illuminated manuscript
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Can you write Alessia Russo x reader where reader has known her and Ella toone for years and is always watching their matches no matter what but reader and Alessia fall in love behind Ella’s back and then get found out?!
caught out
alessia russo x fem!reader
the way i started this in december and am just editing it now..
i loved writing this and am thinking of making it a mini series - so if you have any reqs for this ‘universe’ let me know! i’m up for anything
since before you could even remember, it had always been you and ella, the pair of you being practically attached at the hip from when you were babies, all the way up into adulthood. your bond only grew with time, and when she introduced you to alessia as young teenagers, the three of you very quickly became an absolutely inseparable trio - falling into eachother’s stride with ease.
you weren’t entirely sure where you ended and they begun.
even as you all got older and couldn’t physically see each other as much as you used to - with them both at the peaks of their careers, and the travel and demands that came alongside that, and you caught up in your own career - you still remained a solid unit. your family.
you didn’t play football, you never had, having always been the scrawny little kid who was terrified of pe lessons, earning yourself the lifelong nickname ‘tiny’, which still stuck even as a fully grown adult. but you were there for every single one of your girls’ moments. rain or shine, no matter what side of the world, or how busy you were with work, you’d be in the stands, cheering them on.
today was no different - finding yourself sat at wembley, a stadium you’d come to learn inside and out, to watch them play. you always adored being at games, seeing your girls flourish always made you want to burst with pride. and likewise, they loved having you there, always playing their best when you were in the crowd- branding you their ‘good luck charm’, and constantly bickering over whose jersey you’d wear to the matches.
-
being such a tight knit group, and having such a set routine when it came to games - alessia’s transfer to arsenal changed things for the three of you. many things, in fact.
for almost the entirety of the time you’d known them, they’d played for the same teams - the only exception prior to this being alessia’s college days. for you, it came as an adjustment, a new team to learn about so you’d be able to fully understand and appreciate her future stories, different games to go to, and the realisation that your two favourite people were going to play against eachother at some point. at multiple points.
this also meant that most of the time when you were going to one of their games, you wouldn’t see the other. this didn’t make a difference when it came to the times you would go to watch ella play, but with alessia, it changed things. it blurred lines that the pair of you had previously forced yourselves to draw, using ella as an almost reason, signifying the fact you were best friends, and that’s all it was.
in fact, you actually had no idea at what point exactly you and alessia became more than friends. from the secret stolen kisses at sleepovers as teenagers for ‘practice’ to the lingering glances and touches that lasted just a second longer than friendly ones should, you weren’t even sure that you had ever truly been just that.
however, with the sudden absence of the pair of your’s best friend, and the physical representation of the walls put between you, said wall came crashing down - within alessia’s first week at her new club.
your relationship very quickly blossomed from that moment, a decades worth of hidden, suppressed feelings from both sides pouring out.
despite how obviously in love with each other you were, you had been terrified to reveal it to the world, specifically your world, not wanting to lose, or even slightly affect your friendship with her.
the arsenal girls had figured it out instantly the first time they met you, and had been sworn to secrecy by a very flustered and panicked alessia, which made matters even worse, and made what you were doing feel like even more of a betrayal to your best friend.
the months of sneaking around and not being able to tell ella about a relationship you were in for the first time in your life was killing you, and the more time that passed made it more awkward to come out and say to her.
there had been many close calls that didn’t help your stressing over her reaction, from the one time you had to climb out of alessia’s bedroom window when ella unexpectedly showed up demanding a girls night after training, and then had to wait twenty minutes outside before going around to the front door to pretend you’d just arrived, to the time you’d had to practically leap apart mid drunken make out when you had hosted a group of your friends at your apartment and one of them stumbled into the kitchen without warning, and thankfully (for you, not for her) it was only leah.
-
your cheeks flushed furiously as alessia spun you around, her and ella both immediately finding you after the final whistle had blown, and the lionesses solidified their well earned win.
“see tooney our little good luck charm always comes in handy!” the blonde patted your head after releasing you from her grasp - giggling when ella immediately latched onto you in response, ordering you to ‘pick her up’ after you’d already caught her in your arms.
“my girls! this calls for celebrations, come on, we’re going out!” she yelled, almost ear piercingly loud - quite literally for you, as you foolishly held her right next to your ear.
there was a group of the younger players who always went out to party after wins, and you naturally went along every time - having known most of them for the same time you’d known your best friends, practically being an extra limb to either one of them.
you hung around the locker rooms waiting for them to change and shower, rolling your eyes at the winks and nudges of beth and leah as they passed you, and shoving them away - catching a glimpse of alessia and ella closely behind them, particularly focusing on the former’s panicked expression.
-
the journey back to the team’s hotel was one that could only be described as loud and chaotic. you were sat on your girlfriend’s lap, squished between her and the seat in-front of you, and ella was sat next to you, so close that it was practically a pile up.
thankfully, she was too busy bellowing an interesting rendition of ‘islands in the stream’ to notice the blonde’s hand on your hip, pulling you flush into her and drawing little hearts and stars onto the exposed skin from where your shirt had risen up.
you and your best friends had always been touchy, so you on one of their laps was a regular occurrence, therefore there was no way in your mind that ella could find out.
-
you were back and being ushered into their room to get ready for the night ahead before you knew it - desperately attempting not to blush furiously as alessia helped you top up your makeup, following ella’s strict orders so you could all match.
“right i need to find mary she said she’d curl my hair! less, remember what i said! i know how clumsy you are just follow what i told you, yeah? mary! mary!” she didn’t even give herself a chance to finish her own sentence before she was darting out of the room, voice echoing the corridor and most likely gaining a future noise complaint in the process.
not even a second after she was out of sight, alessia turned to you with a grin that only you could read - pulling you into her.
“oh i’ve been desperate to get you alone all week, i’ve missed you baby.” she grinned, throwing her arms around you and peppering kisses all over your face before finally meeting your lips.
you melted into her touch, instantly being returned home just by the slightest trace of her fingertips in your hair, and laughing as she playfully pushed you down onto the bed.
you barely had time to register her the feeling of her lips, and the comforting weight of her on top of you before the sound of a door being flung open and a following gasp hit your ears.
alessia practically flew off of you as you threw your head back onto the pillow and scrunched your eyes closed. you knew exactly who it was without even needing to look.
“el we can expl-”
“MARY YOU OWE ME SO MUCH MONEY!”
and she was gone just as fast as she stumbled in, cackling as mary groaned from the next room.
#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo#alessia russo imagine#lionesses x reader#lionesses#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics#arsenal wfc x reader
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Hi jade, I have a hurt/comfort request for Steve, maybe reader was there with the party for all the vecna stuff and maybe gets hurt, afterwards Steve taking care of her and staying w her in the hospital and stuff? Love your writing!
thank you for requesting <3 fem!reader
“Did you know there’s like, a concessions stand?”
You moan at the pain between your shoulders, turning onto your arm. Steve lounges in the chair beside you with a paper plate of donuts on his chest. His legs are kicked up on your bed. He’s taken his shoes off, at least.
“Free donuts, coffee, they even had flapjacks.”
“Steve, I think you have to pay for those.”
He puts the plate on your bed. “Well, they can’t send you to jail.”
“‘Cos my back’s broken?”
“‘Cos you’re too pretty for prison.” Steve sits up properly. “You need help?”
He moves the donuts again onto your nightstand and hooks you under the arms to ease you into a sitting position. You’re back isn’t broken, for the record, but you fell funny coming out of the gate a few days ago and you haven’t bounced back yet. Worse, you've got an infected burn on your hand, wrist and arm from your Molotov cocktail. It’s out of commission, as are you while they pump antibiotics into the crook of your elbow. Steve’s careful not to tug your IV.
You gasp, the twinge in your back turning to flame. “I know,” Steve murmurs, shockingly sincere, “I’m sorry. You’re not supposed to lie down all the time, or it won’t get better.”
“I know.”
“Yeah, of course you do. You know everything.”
Insult or compliment, you’re unsure. What you do know is that Steve’s come to see you every day since you were checked in, he’s the one who checked you in, and he’s taken good care of you so far. He’s not even your boyfriend, you thought he liked Nancy— but he’s rubbing his hands down your shoulders and looking you in your face despite the horror he’s sure to be witnessing. Bruised eye, greasy nose, hair thankfully clean but completely untouched otherwise.
“Better?” he asks, cupping your cheek.
Is he gonna kiss me? you think. You glance down at his lips, then back up. Steve doesn’t notice or doesn’t mention it, his fingers drawing a gentle path behind your ear as his thumb aligns with your jaw.
“Hey, don’t cry.”
You shake your head. “No, I’m not.”
“Sorry, you just looked so sad for a second.” He laughs wryly. Though you don’t feel like he’s making fun of you, he teases, “Cheer up. What have you got to be so sad about?”
“You keep harassing me.”
“Oh, that’s how it is!” He tips his head back. “Nurse! I’d like to report a thief!”
You gasp, laugh, and attempt to cover his mouth as strikes of pain nibble up your spine. “Steve, don’t–” He catches your hands to stop you from silencing him, but he doesn’t shout again, holding your hands together in his lap, smiling smugly and affectionately at once. He has nice eyes that are almost almond in shape and a lovely light brown. They glow in the slither of light that sneaks its way through the blinds, raw amber, stomach-achingly pretty.
You can’t look at him for too long. You defer to your hands scrunched up in the sheets instead.
“I did pay for the donuts, by the way. I’m just messing with you.”
You try to laugh. “Why doesn't that surprise me?”
“You act like I’m such a jerk,” he says fondly, pulling you in for a cautious hug. He’s tender when he needs to be, you’d never have thought it of him, how sweetly and softly he rubs your back, how he murmurs near your ear. “Do you need more meds? I’m sure they can get you another dose of the good stuff if you pretend your gummy arm is aching.”
“Thanks, Steve, but I’m fine.”
He hums. “Think I can get them to let me stay the night?”
“Steve, I’m really okay.”
“It’s not about you, I just don’t wanna go home,” he lies poorly, “they don’t have donuts at home–”
His hand leaves your back. “Are you eating over my shoulder?” you ask.
He hugs you tighter with the remaining arm. “What? No.”
You feel sprinkles falling down your back and ignore it for now. He’ll have to help you out of bed in a few minutes anyways. He can sort it out then. For now, you lean into his chest and close your eyes tight.
“I’ll sleep better in the chair by your bed,” he promises.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington scenario#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
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hii! So I've never made a request before- but I was wondering if you could write a sunshine!reader × spencer where reader is a but dimmer(less sunshiney? Idk lol) than usual? Something sort of fluffy and comfort like if that makes sense :) I love your work sm and i saw your requests were open so- <33
Hii lovely ty for the request🥰! And thank you for loving my work, ily😭 hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, reader is a bit upset, mentions of food/drink, use of pet names(0.9k)
You come to work without your usual cheery aura. You greet everybody with a smile, but Spencer sees right through it. He can tell the difference between your real smile, and between this fake smile. I mean, he would be kind of a bad boyfriend if he couldn't differ them.
Spencer comes up to your desk, his hand immediately finds yours, "hi, sweetheart."
You look up at him, fake smile already plastered on your pretty face, "hi, Spence."
"Are you okay?" Spencer whispers, trying not to draw any attention to you.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I just didn't sleep well," you respond way too quickly so Spencer knows you're lying right away.
"Really?" Spencer asks softly, trying to get the real answer.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Really." You form another fake smile on your face. But Spencer doesn't push you, he knows you'll tell him in your own time if you want to.
Spencer squeezes your shoulder lovingly, and lets you get back to work. And even though he isn't going to try, and force you to tell him what's wrong, he's not letting it go.
Spencer settles on the plan to try to cheer you up, even if just a little.
Spencer goes to grab a coffee to a little café near the Bau so he grabs a drink and some sweet pastries for you as well. He even buys you a flower, just one simple flower not a bouquet, but it's your favourite so he hopes that you'll like it.
As soon as Spencer gets back to the office he makes a beeline for you. You don't notice him coming, too focused on the papers, until the beautiful flower is right in front of your face.
"Oh," you yelp in surprise, small but genuine smile right away on your lips, "what's this?"
"This," he also puts the drink and the pastries on your table," is for you."
"For me? Why?" you ask a little confused, but Spencer already can see that your mood has been lifted even if just a bit.
"Just because," Spencer beams at you.
You raise your brows at him, "just because?" you giggle. Your giggle makes Spencer almost melt away.
"Yeah, " Spencer shrugs his shoulders. He would have bought you thousands of flowers if it meant that you would smile at him like this again. He overwhelmingly wants to kiss you, but he just can't kiss you in the middle of the office.
He decides that a little peck on your cheek wouldn't hurt. He quickly looks around, and then does it.
You cheeks go rosy, "thank you, handsome. This is really nice."
"Of course," Spencer smiles at you one more time before he leaves you be. He sits at his desk, and takes a sip of his coffee.
It's missing the very much needed sugar, even if he did ask for more sugar at the café It's still not enough. He goes straight to the small office kitchen.
You notice Spencer going there, and follow him. You can't believe how sweet Spence is. I mean, you know he's literally the sweetest person on the earth, but still it takes you by a surprise every time. It makes you love him even more everytime, too.
You swear, you were very close to crying when he brought you the flower. You haven't been feeling very well since the morning. It's just one of those days when you wake up with an upset mood, and there's no actual reason behind it. It's just this way sometimes.
You know Spencer noticed this bad mood. And of course, he's trying everything he can to make you feel better without being forceful. So you want to thank him again.
"Hi, sweetheart, need more sugar too?" Spencer notices you straight away.
"No, I just wanted to say thank you again, Spence," you say sheepishly.
"No need to say thanks again. I'm glad you like my little surprise," Spencer can't help it when you're around him, his hand immediately lands on your hip.
You try to give him a smile, but you just anxiously look at him, "I just... Y-you were right. I-I don't feel good today."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Spencer softly asks in hushed voice, his hand starts to do circles on your exposed skin where your sweater has risen.
"Can we talk about it later?" You don't feel like talking about it right now. Especially not at work. You'd rather do it later with Spencer's arms around you.
"Definitely, lovely. You can come to my apartment if you want to. We don't even have to talk, we could just put on a movie or something. Does that sound okay?" Spencer proposes unsurely, he doesn't want to make you even more sad. He wouldn't survive it for sure. He's so used to your happy smiles and cheerful mood that it's weird seeing you so sullen. He doesn't like seeing you like this at all, it breaks his heart a little.
"Sounds perfect." You look at him like you want to ask him also something else, and Spencer doesn't even need to guess to know what to do. He's seen those puppy eyes on your numerous times.
Spencer quickly wraps his arms around you, instantly whispering sweet things in your ear, "I love you, y'know that?"
"I know, love you, too," you say into his shirt, already feeling a small amount of tension leave your body.
You stay like that until you are positive that you are blushing like crazy from his compliments, and until someone else comes into the kitchen for a coffee (you don't want to be another lecture about inappropriate behaviour at work, you leave that to other people).
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid
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Part Two
15 days before Christmas Steve Harrington flinches when the Christmas lights strung along the arcade flicker.
Eddie only notices because he makes a habit out of keeping an eye on questionable people when he's out and about.
Watches Harrington recover with a little shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, as Gareth finishes up his shift, swapping cashier positions with Jeff.
Dustin and Lucas stick around long enough to greet Jeff as Eddie stares, before scuttling off to Harrington's car, pushing and shoving each other the whole way.
Eddie frowns, but decides to put the whole thing out of his head.
He doesn't need his little lamb's adoration of evil high school figures to poison his day.
xXx
12 days before Christmas and Eddie is starting to realize Harrington is everywhere.
There's a little holiday display the town center has put on. A temporary ice rink surrounded by dazzling lights, hot chocolate stands, and plenty of things to see.
Wayne and Eddie, with their traditional day of Christmas shopping complete, stroll within it, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. They never buy much--can’t, but it’s still something fun for Eddie to do with his Uncle and so and he bounces about with glee as they people watch.
A familiar shriek hits the air, and Eddie turns in time to see Mike and Dustin collide on the ice, while Lucas and his sister skate literal circles around them, laughing.
Unable to pass up on the opportunity to tease, Eddie flies to the edge of the rink, waving his hand and demanding one of the kids do a flip.
"A flip!? Eddie, I can't even skate a circle!" Henderson shouts, at the same time as Wheeler adds;
“Let’s see you try and skate with these idiots!”
“Sorry Wheeler, I think getting on the ice with you might be hazardous to my health.”
“Shut up!”
Delightful banter officially traded, Eddie turns to find his Uncle in a conversation with Steve Harrington.
Grin immediately faltering into a frown, he approaches cautiously right in time to see Wayne clap Harrington on the shoulder.
“It gets better.” Wayne says gruffly, in that tone he uses when he’s trying to give deeply emotional advice without the emotional part.
The younger boy gave a hard nod, muttering something that might have been “Thanks.”
Eddie jerked to a stop several steps away, but close enough for Wayne to see him, to know he was done and it was time to go.
Thankfully his Uncle picked up the signal, and made his way over, so the two of them could finish out their lap around the town center.
"He’s one of your classmates, right?" Wayne asked, as they turned away from the rink, Harrington back to watching the kids laugh and play around the ring.
"Not anymore." Eddie scoffs. "That's Steve Harrington."
Wayne hums noncommittally.
"As in, the rich Harrington's.” Eddie prods, because come on everyone knew who the Harrington’s were, just as everyone delighted in rightfully shitting on them. They weren’t good people. “As in, the assholes from Loc Nora?"
Another hum.
Then; "People are more than their last name, Eds. You should know that."
Eddie jerks back, stung at the admonishment.
Wayne’s not mad, never is, but Eddie recognizes his Uncle’s disappointed tone loud and clear.
"One of the gifts you got from me was seein’ through people's bullshit.." Wayne continues, before sucking in a draw on his cigarette. "I'm surprised you didn't see through his."
‘I don’t want to see through his!’ Is what Eddie wants to say, but keeps it to himself.
Changed the subject instead, shoulders hiked to his ears, because Harrington having some kind of claim on his new players was one thing, but his Uncle!?
He didn’t care about whatever crap the guy was going through. King Steve has been an ass for as long as Eddie had known him, the kind of bully whose downfall you cheered for.
Sure it was petty, but guys like Harrington reveled in pettiness.
So who cared if Eddie didn’t want to look closer at him now? Harrington wasn’t a lost lamb.
He was at best, an injured wolf, and no amount of sad looks was going to make him any safer to be around.
xxx
9 days till Christmas and Wheeler is having a tantrum that's delaying Hellfire's holiday oneshot.
"I don't get why he hates Christmas so much. He didn't even know Will when he disappeared!" Mike snips with his arms crossed.
Dustin is across from him, a furious scowl on his face, as Lucas stands between, a physical barrier between the two.
"As usual, you're talking out of your ass, Mike." Henderson spits, furious. "He was in Will's house with Jonathan and Nancy. That's reason enough!"
As if that makes any kind of sense, but then this isn’t the first argument that went into weird territory like this. Eddie’s always prided himself on pulling stories out of people, earning secrets and truths with a well trained ear and a smarter mouth.
The freshman though, were proving to be a hell of a challenge.
Mike throws his hands in the air. "I'm just saying, we all have way more reasons to hate Christmas, but none of us are acting like the grinch!"
“I know you can only have two good thoughts a day without breaking your brain, but you're being so stupid." Dustin thunders. "Did you ever think Steve might have other reasons to hate Christmas!?”
Eddie almost groans aloud, because of course, of fucking course, this is about Harrington.
The guy was a goddamn ghost at this point, hellbent on haunting Eddie’s entire life.
Didn’t even have the courtesy to die first!
"Guys." Lucas stressed, hands now firmly pressed against Mike and Dustin’s chest. “Come on, we’re wasting time. We can talk about this later.”
“Oh don’t worry about that Sinclair,” Eddie purred, making the three of them jump, as though they had forgotten they had a full ass audience in the form of the rest of the club. “I’m just docking their HP points for every minute they hold up the game.”
“Shit!” Dustin and Milke yelled as one, scrambling to get to their chairs.
Gareth and Jeff snicker, Grant making it known he was over their antics with a look that could have burnt gold.
Eddie clapped his hands once, hard enough for it to echo throughout the room. “If everyone is done bickering,” He announced, slipping into his DM voice, “we can begin our tale…”
He launches into the story he’d planned, and enjoys pulling everyone into it, all thoughts of Steve Harrington left behind.
xXx
5 Days before Christmas and Eddie is panic shopping.
He’s not the one panicking, nor the one shopping, but he has a car and friends who know where he lives, so he’s woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning (10 am) by Gareth, Grant, and Henderson of all people.
“Gareth’s sister took the car again.” Grant explains with dramatic, rolling eyes at Eddie’s exasperated face.
“I’m sorry you planned going shopping five days before Christmas?”
“Well--no-” Grant continues at the same time Dustin and Gareth yell protests.
They talk over each other for a moment, loud enough to make Eddie crave coffee and the comfort of his bed.
He runs one hand through his frizzy, bedhead hair before yanking it out and waving it around to catch his friend's attention. “Alright, I get it! You all decided to do white elephant gift thing last minute, and are now scrambling."
"Speaking of which, you're invited." Henderson tells him with a cheeky grin. "We're doing it on Christmas Eve."
Of course they were.
"Please man? It'll be fun." Gareth pleads, as Grant shoots him his patented puppy dog eyes.
Eddie sighs.
"I'll do it, but!" He sticks a finger in the air as grins broke out, "I'm demanding food and coffee and payment!"
With that he retreated from the door, stomping back to his room.
"Good coffee, too!" He hollers as he throws on clothes, happy chatter breaking out among his friends.
Several arguments and one run to the best to-go coffee shop in town, and Eddie was following his buddies around as they wandered through downtown Hawkins.
Since the mall had burned, shopping options had been rather limited, shops slow to reopen.
It made it difficult to buy things last minute, but Eddie found it was actually kind of fun as Henderson explained the rules they'd all agreed on (hopefully, Gareth added, because the rules had been passed along in pieces.)
"The goal is to get outrageous, funny stuff." Dustin explains as they browsed the local bookstore. "Nothing more than fifteen dollars, and nothing Christmas-y."
Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Nothing Christmas-y?" He echoes curiously.
Dustin nods, serious.
"Yeah. Christmas can be kinda a downer for some people. We came up with this as a way to celebrate without all the holiday stuff involved."
"Some people like Harrington?" Eddie guesses, sinking feeling in his stomach.
There's no way Grant and Gareth would've agreed to do a gift exchange with Steve Harrington.
Right?
Dustin sighs dramatically, whole body heaving.
"I know you've got a weird hate-on for him, but this time of year is really hard on Steve." He snaps, exasperated. "It's not my place to talk about it outside the Party, but he doesn't deserve to deal with it on his own."
There's that word again, Party.
Capital P implied, just as it implies that it's a group that Eddie is firmly excluded from.
It stings as it lands, an unintentional insult that reminds Eddie that his newest little lambs have secrets they refuse to share.
Nevermind the fact that Steve is clearly included.
Eddie collects secrets like candy, but his poking and prodding had yet to get him a solid answer on the mysterious "party."
Rather than press, Eddie raises his hands in surrender.
"Easy there, tiger. No offense meant."
Full offense meant actually, but Eddie wasn't in the mood for a full blown Henderson Rant.
Dustin narrows his eyes, but takes his words at face value. "You know, you guys would really like each other if you both just got over yourselves."
Eddie snorts, but covers it by playfully shoving Henderson's cap down into his face.
"When hell freezes over maybe. Now look, they have a new science fiction display!" The last part is sing-songed.
Thoroughly distracted, Dustin lets the conversation drop, much to Eddie's relief.
(Because really him? Liking Harrington?
Not in a million freaking years.)
xxx
It's Christmas Eve and Eddie is staring furiously at Steve Harrington's house.
"No one told me he was involved." He hisses angrily, knuckles white on his steering wheel.
"Oh my god, stop being dramatic." Dustin rolls his eyes as he talks, unbuckling himself. “I told you Steve hates Christmas, so this is how we’re including him!”
Jeff is looking equally uncomfortable, even as Lucas and Mike fall out of the van.
Gareth's car is behind him, Grant with him.
No doubt they too, are staring at the massive house in front of them in horror.
Slowly the elder Hellfire members file out, standing in a clump as the younger members rush forward.
They storm the door like they live in the damn place, fluttering about like moths.
"What the hell." Jeff mutters quietly to Eddie's left.
"Yeah guys, what the hell." Eddie repeats, shooting a glare toward Gareth and Grant. "No one mentioned this part!"
"We didn't know." Gareth defends angrily. "This was all the freshman!"
"Are you idiots coming inside or not!?" Robin Buckley of all people yells, appearing in the now open front door.
Or rather, one of the front doors, because Harrington is rich enough to have two.
"Shit." Eddie mutters.
"It's not weird if we just--leave, right?" Grant mumbles, shuffling from foot to foot.
"It's very weird if we leave." Jeff responds flatly.
A flare of anger ignites in Eddie. It comes from Steve Harrington invading this entire holiday, and Eddie finally has a chance to catch him off guard.
He'd be damned if he let it pass by.
"Brave faces men." He says, tossing his hair back with a jerk of his hand. "We're storming the castle."
Struts forward determinedly, present in hand, fully planning on making Harrington as uncomfortable as he had made Eddie.
Unintentional, or not.
xXx
It's the day before Crapmas, the one holiday Steve hates, and he's somehow been sweet talked into hosting the kids white elephant exchange.
Which was fine--they were welcome in his home anytime and they knew it--but they'd conveniently forgotten to mention this was a Hellfire Club event.
As in, Eddie "the freak" Munson and his crew of three other dudes whose names Steve doesn't know (but who probably knew his.)
"I dunno man, I wasn't the best person to a lot of people." He worried at Dustin this morning, when the brat had sprung it on him. "This probably isn't the best idea."
"Please Steve!? It's too late to change the venue and you promised you'd do a holiday thing with each of us!" Dustin whined on the other end.
At least he had the forethought to not actually use the word "Christmas."
"You did everyone else's, you can't skip out on mine!"
Everyone else's was simple shit like taking them ice skating, or shopping, or making gingerbread houses.
Not hosting a whole ass party with four people who likely hated his guts--and for good reason.
Which Steve repeated to Dustin, staring vacantly at his carefully decorated house.
Once again, his parents had called in designers to come keep appearances, sending along their usual message that they may or may not be home depending upon various work factors.
"We just never know anymore with your father's job honey." His mother slurred on the phone, four years ago. "We'll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise."
Like more money on his credit card could fix years of ruined holidays.
(At least them being gone was better than forcing Steve to perform in their horrible holiday parties. Dressing him up like a doll, gathering drunk adults around the piano to make him play horrid Christmas songs.
Showing him off like a well trained dog, complete with finger snaps to signal him to move on to his next trick. )
“Steeeeeeve-!”
As always, Steve crumbled under Dustin's badgering.
"Fine, fine!" He’d said. “You're responsible for letting them know me and Robin are gonna be there though!”
Robin, who’d been laying on his couch, poked her head up at her name.
“They’ll know!” Dustin had promised.
Then abruptly hung up, like the brat he was.
Now four half-terrified, half-murderous looking dudes were staring Steve down as they awkwardly stood in his living room, and he had the wondrous realization that Dustin had probably sprung this on them too.
‘Little. Asshole.’ Steve thinks, but plasters the best non threatening smile on his face.
“Hey, uh, guys.” He says with an awkward little wave.
He gets three sets of glares and one impressive looking spooked face back.
Mike and Lucas were already tackling the snacks he’d put out, cheeks full of chocolates and popcorn. Dustin was re-arranging furniture to his liking, and Robin, in-between her four classmates and Steve, glanced at both sides and rolled her eyes.
“Steve, go pull the pizza out of the oven. You lot, come sit down, you look like you’re about to bolt.” Robin snaps, making everyone sans the kids jump.
Happy for the distraction, Steve quickly retreats to his kitchen, overhearing Robin try and get the elder Hellfire members to identify themselves.
Chatter fills the room, slow at first, but it becomes more fluid with Robin’s ruthless prodding. The pizza ends up needing another five minutes, which suits Steve since he hadn’t had time to pull out drinks.
He’s bent at the waist, pulling out various cans when Dustin loudly announces his presence by barging into the fridge and smacking Steve’s ass with it.
With a yelp, cans fly everywhere as Steve drops them, bouncing off the floor and rolling across the kitchen.
“Henderson!” He gripes, standing up as the kid grins at him. He has all his teeth now but the smile will probably always feel cute to Steve. By-product of knowing the little shit for far too long.
“Sorry Steve.” He says dismissively, before stepping aside with a dramatic flair. “Now stop being a total housewife for a second and meet Eddie!”
The sound of cans still rolling ringing in his ears, Steve finds himself staring into Munson’s eyes.
Who looks all too delighted to have seen Steve fumble.
“Thought you were a jock, Harrington. What happened to those reflexes?” He smirks, and Steve feels his face flush red.
“Yeah well,” Steve says, hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck, “Turns out hanging around kids kinda ruins them.”
This is clearly not the response Eddie was expecting.
Nor is he expecting Dustin to loudly announce that; “Steve once played a D&D campaign with us, but he totally ate it as a cleric. You should give him some tips, Eddie!”
Now it’s Steve’s turn to smirk, because Munson looks completely thrown.
“Is…that a joke?” Eddie asks carefully, looking between the two of them.
Dustin shakes his head. “Nope! You can ask Lucas’s sister, she was there.”
He then glances down at his watch, and gives the biggest fake gasp Steve has ever heard (and Steve once sat through Will and Mike acting in a play for their English class, while Nancy and Jonathan silently suffered second-hand embarrassment next to him.)
“Oh shit, I forgot something! Be right back!”
“Language!” Steve calls, as Dustin shoots out of the kitchen. “And be careful not to trip on the cans!”
Munson, who looks like he’s taken a wrong turn and ended up in the Twilight Zone, stares at him. “Did you seriously play a cleric?”
“Weave Healington was a brave man who sacrificed himself in a time of need.” Steve tells him seriously, just to see the guy’s reaction. “May he rest in peace.”
“Weave Healington.” Eddie deadpans.
Steve, keeping his face blank by the skin of his teeth, nods.
“Please tell me that wasn’t the pizza you just dropped.” Robin says as she flies into the kitchen, interrupting Eddie’s face rapidly cycling through different emotions with a badly wrapped present in her hands.
“Stevie boy dropped the pop, Buckley Bird.” Eddie says, recovering quickly. “I would not recommend drinking out of anything currently laying on the floor.”
“Noted.” Robin says, pausing to stare at the cans scattered about. “Hey Steve, did you wrap your weird eyeball thingie? Or do you want me to do it? I dunno how long the kids are gonna wait.”
Like a dog hearing a whistle, Munson’s whole head tips sideways. “Weird eyeball thingie?”
“Oh my god, it’s this--I don’t even know how to describe it. Like an alternative ouija board? It says it’s a “fortune telling game.” Robin makes the quotation marks with her hands. “It has this giant, ugly eyeball in the middle.”
She leans forward conspiratorially to add; “It glows in the dark.”
“Oh my god, Steve, your gift is Ka-Bala!?” Dustin says, bouncing up like a damn jack-in-the-box. “I’ve always wanted that game!”
“Robin!” Steve hisses, because of course she’d announce that right as Dustin would pop back up.
“Oh shit.” Robin says, shooting him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your gift.”
Steve sighs dramatically, but keeps a small grin on his face so Robin knows he’s not really upset. “Guess I’ll have to go find a new one--which means your punishment is that you and Dustin are now in charge of the pizza. And also picking up all the cans.”
“Curses.” Robin says flatly, before breaking out into a grin herself, while Dustin whines.
“It’s probably for the best.” Eddie says, though the guy sounds weirdly like someone desperately off balance and scrambling to fix it. “You know you weren’t supposed to pick cool gifts, right Harrington?”
Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Cool? It’s kinda weird. It’s disgustingly neon green. And Robin forgot to mention it’s a board game.”
He pushes Dustin’s hat down as he walks by, and laughs aloud when Eddie follows up by knocking it right off Henderson’s head.
“Hey!” Dustin squeaks, hands darting to cover his hat hair.
He’s ignored.
“Neon green, giant eyeball, fortune telling board game?” Eddie sums up. “Yeah might have to murder Buckley because that sounds rad as hell.”
Steve snorts as he walks down the hall and up the stairs, somehow unsurprised to find the metalhead is following.
“You want it, Munson?” He asks as they hit his second floor, Steve aiming for his fathers office. “You’re welcome to it, I never even opened the thing.”
“What do you want for it?” Eddie asks, following Steve right through the door, before stopping dead.
A typical reaction to someone walking into his fathers stuffy, stupidly expensive office. Like the rest of Steve’s house, it looks as though it was transported straight out of a magazine. Everything is shiny and worse--unused.
“Nothing, man.” Steve said, standing in front of said desk now with his arms crossed. “I mean it, it’s still got the plastic on it. You’re gonna have to sneak it by Dustin though.” He turned to smile at Eddie, feeling like they were sharing a joke, “He might physically fight you for it.”
For some reason this made a hell of a blush streak across Munson’s cheeks, before the guy coughed and swung into the office behind Steve.
“He can try.” Eddie managed finally, voice a shade higher than normal.
As he always did to social things he didn’t understand, Steve just ignored the change.
“Why’d you never play it?” Eddie asks, as Steve scans the shelves of stupidly expensive knick-knacks.
“Someone trying to impress my parents got it for me one Christmas.” He says with a shrug. “They wouldn’t let me open it then, and I forgot all about it until I was digging for something else.”
“They don’t care about it now I take it?”
Steve can’t help the snort that leaves his throat. “They’d have to be around to care.” Then to get the conversation back on track, says; “Okay, I’m thinking the shitty World’s Best Boss trophy.”
He points to the gaudy thing, all shiny from the ass kissing the person who’d purchased it had done in hopes Steve’s dad would give him a raise. Or not fire him, Steve never knew which it was.
"I take it your dad’s not gonna be here to care that it’s gone?” Eddie asks, walking up to stand next to Steve.
Another grin appears on Steve’s face, shared conspiratorially with Eddie when he looks over to the metalhead. “That’s my gift to myself man. I’m gonna see how long it takes before he notices it’s gone.”
Eddie whistled, quiet enough to not hurt Steve’s ears. “Fuck the old man, huh?”
“Absolutely.” Steve agreed, stepping forward to fish the trophy down.
“Gotta say man, you’re surprising me. I didn’t expect such a thing from you. Especially since Henderson told me you hate Christmas.”
Steve shrugged as he turned back around, new white elephant gift in hand. “Yeah it’s a thing I’m trying.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not hating Christmas?”
“Not being a dick. Which,” He shook the trophy, “--means sticking it to the biggest dick in my life. I think I’ll always hate Christmas.”
Eddie snorted a laugh, then looked startled, like he hadn’t expected that reaction out of himself.
Steve grinned at it.
“You uh--you know if you ever want to talk about the hating Christmas thing, I think I get it. Or can relate. Sorta.” Eddie says, and it’s so stilted that it takes Steve a moment to figure out what he’s offering.
He almost asks him if he’s kidding, but thinks better of it.
“I think I’m less cut up about it then the kids are but, for what it’s worth--thanks.”
Doesn’t think he’ll ever take anyone up on that offer, epically not someone who doesn’t know that an entire hell dimension exists under them but--
It’s nice. To have someone recognize that Steve hates it. That there are reasons he might.
He recalls suddenly that the man at the ice rink who’d also seen through his melancholy was in fact, Eddie’s Uncle, and briefly wonders if this just runs through the family.
“Come on, I gotta wrap this and then get back downstairs before Robin and Dustin burn the house down.” He says instead, because he doesn’t want to get in his own head about it. Not tonight, when he knows the kids have gone out of their way in an effort to celebrate the holiday without making him feel like he was celebrating it. “Or worse, they start the white-elephant without us.”
“After you, my liege.” Eddie says with a dramatic bow.
Steve pauses awkwardly for a moment, before giving the world's most careful curtsey back.
(Laughs loudly as Eddie almost falls on his face in surprise, before the older man scrambles to chase after Steve, out of the office.)
xXx
It’s 12:00 pm, making it officially Christmas day, and Eddie Munson is rapidly re-evaluating his entire life.
Well perhaps not all of it, just the parts with Steve Harrington.
They’re playing the best white-elephant game Eddie has ever participated in, a cutthroat competition that’s filled the house with shrieks and laughter.
Henderson’s gift, cat-paw shaped mittens with “You’ve gotta be kitten me” scrawled on the back is the current winning prize, with Mike’s salt and pepper shakers made in the shape of two pigs “porking” being a close second.
The worst gift is a tie between the eye searing scarf Gareth’s mother had created (complete with bedazzled gems) and an abomination of a stuffed animal Grant insists is an ET doll.
It looked like a deformed llama sat on its ass, and Lucas already scared Mike with it twice.
Eddie’s own gift, ( a mug with Tom Selleck posing shirtless) was jokingly fought over by Robin and Steve to the bitter end, while Gareth was defending the blue circular cookie tin (the kind that mothers shoved needles and sewing threads into, but shockingly enough actually held real cookies) with his life.
Literally at one point, as he laid over it while Jeff tackled him.
Eddie himself had gone for the gold, wanting the trophy Steve had procured. He too, was defending it aggressively against Dustin, who was currently stuck with Lucas’s gift (one of his sister’s pet rock creations she’d apparently tried to sell to her classmates.
It was hideous.)
Now stretched out on his bed, legs in the air as he stares at the Ka-Bala game Steve had snuck into his arms with a wink, Eddie finds he’s the guy’s managed to go from haunting his whole life, to trying to haunt his heart.
Made him want to do the thing he’d angrily been against this entire time--take a look at the guy closer.
See past his bullshit, at the person hiding underneath.
Find out what Steve was talking to his Uncle about, and why his house looked like a Christmas themed tomb.
Why his parents were gone. What the hell made him he pick a cleric in D&D. How he met the kids and why Dustin thought the sun shines out of his ass.
But most of all?
Why the hell had Steve Harrington put a note on the back of the Ka-Bala game?
‘Hope you like the game..’ It read, with the dorkiest little smiley face. ‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out again.’
Below it was a number, and Eddie felt himself go red in the face.
Steve Harrington was a fucking mystery, but one Eddie himself, had been personally invited to solve.
‘Merry Christmas to me I guess.’ He thought, and tried very, very hard not to kick his legs in the air.
#I invite you all to end your xmas with some steddie fluff#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things 4#0o0 fanfics#xmas special#fluff#Ka#Ka-Bala is a real game and its the goofiest looking thing ever.#white elephant
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Alt Assistant AU - Game Night
“Hey.”
Kara lets herself into Lena’s office, her greeting pulling her girlfriend’s attention to her.
“Hey,” Lena returns. At this hour, she should be tired, but there’s not a trace of exhaustion in the focused gaze that meets hers with a smile. “How’d it go?”
Kara grins. “I signed my contract with CatCo forty-three minutes ago.”
Lena’s smile widens to beaming. “I knew you’d wow them.” She rises from her seat and leans in to press a kiss to Kara’s lips. “Congratulations, love.”
Lifting the bag of Big Belly in her hand, Kara shrugs her eyebrows invitingly. “Dinner to celebrate?”
Without a further word, Lena moves with her to the couch. Though she brings a stack of contracts with her, she holds off on reviewing them until after their burgers are devoured and the leftover fries long cold. Kara doesn’t mind Lena’s preoccupation– it gives her an opportunity to study Lena in profile, from the line of her jaw to the curve of her nose.
“Hey,” Kara murmurs.
“Hmmm?” Lena hums back, not quite looking away from the pages in her lap. Kara smiles.
“I’m hosting game night tomorrow.” Her declaration is met with a nod and another hum. “Wanna join?”
“Not really.”
That’s another difference of this reality– this Lena declines invitations just as often as the old Lena used to, but not out of self-preservation. She simply feels no need to commit herself to something she’s not interested in. Most times, Kara admires her forthright, but tonight she can’t help the disappointment that courses through her.
Lena senses the change in her mood, and sets the contract down to look at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I want you to come,” Kara returns plainly.
Lena’s brow furrows. “Why?”
It’s not an unreasonable question– Kara’s been hosting game not regularly since the reality reset, eager to reclaim one of the few things that helped her feel like nothing had changed. Lena has never expressed interest in attending, and Kara hasn’t extended the invite until now. But something has changed.
“My friends will be there,” Kara says. She lets her fingers trace the seam of the back couch cushion. She keeps her eyes on Lena’s. “I want you to meet them.”
Lena’s chin tilts to one side. “I see.”
“All of you are important to me,” Kara continues. “I want you all to know each other.”
She’s lived separate lives before– she has no interest in suffering similarly in this reality.
Lena’s pink lips twist into a smile. Her gaze teasingly turns askance, even as she gracefully scoots herself closer to Kara. “Well,” she purrs. “In that case…”
She leans in, and Kara closes the distance, capturing her lips– still tasting faintly of grease– in another kiss.
“I suppose I can make the time.”
—
Game night is better than Kara could have imagined. In the previous reality, Lena’s first three game nights had seen her stiff and reticent, coiled tightly as though expecting a physical blow. But current Lena… Lena is on full display. All of her magnetism that draws investors in like moths to flame now brings Kara’s friends into easy conversation, her features bright and open.
She absolutely dominates at Monopoly, of course. And Trivial Pursuit. Kara cherishes every cheer of excitement when Lena succeeds, be it collecting rent or a correct, obscure answer. Lena’s clearly enjoying herself, which was Kara’s secondary goal for the night. Joining the two halves of her life will only work if both sides have fun.
The night ends when Lena heads out first. “Early meeting,” she explains, but Kara suspects she’s bowing out– at least in part– to give them time to report in and render judgement.
When the door closes behind Lena, Kara takes a moment to deliver a load of dishes to the kitchen. She can’t help the grin that spreads her features– she can’t wait to hear her friends’ approval. But when she turns back to the line of solemn features lined up before her, her stomach drops.
“What? That– things went great! I thought—” She scans their faces. Alex, she can kind of understand. As her sister, she’s predisposed to being protective. Brainy, less so, but to Kara he seemed to be demurring to his own girlfriend, on whom Kara locks her gaze.
“Nia?”
Nia at least, she expected to be receptive to Lena. They’d been friends in the previous reality, to Kara’s recollection, and her easy-going nature surely would have left her primed to adore Lena.
Except Nia’s grimace is widest of them all.
“I dunno…” She draws out the word, stretching it into an audible apology. “She’s nice, I guess, but… she’s also a little… intense?”
Kara blinks in surprise. “Intense? How do you mean?”
Lena can be intense. Kara knows this. She wouldn’t be a good executive if she wasn’t. Nor would she be able to go head-to-head in a male-dominated industry. But Kara hadn’t seen that intensity tonight. She’s genuinely confused, and waits for Nia to elaborate.
“Well…” Nia seems at a loss for words, and she shoots a glance at the others for support. “She’s, uhh…”
“Obsessed with winning, for one,” Alex delivers bluntly.
Kara stares at her sister. “You’re mad because she… won?”
“It’s more than that,” Nia follows up quickly. “I don’t know how to really explain it, but she just doesn’t seem to… fit.”
“She has nothing in common,” Alex continues. “And I don’t like how she treats you.”
“Like what?”
“You waited on her hand and foot the entire night! Like you were her assistant!”
“It just felt like there wasn’t space for anyone else when you’re talking to her,” Nia says softly. “It might just be me, but…”
“It’s not.” Alex all but scowls. “All of us felt it, and the fact neither of you picked up on how uncomfortable we were says more than it doesn’t.”
Anger starts to build in Kara’s belly, but the hurt in her chest tamps it down. A lump lifts to her throat when she looks to the one person who hasn’t weighed in yet.
“Brainy?”
His expression is pensive. “I too noticed the magnitude of Miss Luthor’s presence, which perhaps may not be well suited to such intimate evenings between friends.”
Kara presses her lips together. She takes a deep breath, then a second. Once she’s sure she can speak without her voice breaking, she swallows thickly.
“I see.”
“Kara…” Nia trails off when Kara lifts her hand.
“I know you all must be tired. I’ll clean up,” she says. Nia opens her mouth to protest, but Alex places a hand on her shoulder. The younger woman slumps minutely as she quietly sighs.
“Okay.” Nia rises from her seat, tugging Brainy towards the door. “I’m sorry, Kara. I just worry–”
“Thank you for your honesty,” Kara clips out. It effectively silences Nia, who glances sadly at her before she and Brainy slip out of the apartment. It leaves Kara alone with her sister, whose gaze she studiously avoids.
“I’m not going to apologize,” Alex states. “She wasn’t the only one in the room tonight, and she was too full of herself to see that the rest of us weren’t gelling. And you deserve better than someone who treats you like the help.”
Kara doesn’t respond or look up from the knot of wood in her butcher block table.
“I know it’s not what you want to hear–”
“I need to get up early tomorrow,” Kara grinds out. She’s heard enough. “Please leave.”
Alex doesn’t push any further. She nods, reaching for her jacket.
“Call if you need anything.”
Kara doesn’t breathe again until the door clicks shut. Only then does she release the pressure in her chest with a gasp, as the tears splash onto her cheeks.
—
Kara had lied about the early morning, but she finds herself sleepless regardless. She waits until the sun rises before she finally texts Lena.
What’re you up to? She sends, doing her best to sound casual and unaffected. She thinks she might have succeeded when Lena’s pending response immediately appears in the form of three pulsing dots.
Work, comes the quick reply. Seoul needs some cajoling.
Kara sends a sympathetic emoji back.
Should have everything handled in a few hours. Meet me at the office at 10? We can go to brunch.
Despite the gloom hanging heavy in her thoughts, Kara finds herself smiling.
Absolutely.
She’s in front of LuthorCorp twenty minutes to ten, and sends a querying question mark to see if Lena’s already on her way down. Unsurprisingly, she gets a ‘ten more minutes’ in response. Kara decides to spend the wait inside, and makes her way up to Lena’s office. As the elevator lifts higher, Kara’s stomach sinks lower.
She won’t be able to hide this from Lena. Lena knows her too well, and besides that it wouldn’t be fair to let Lena believe something that wasn’t true. Still, Kara plasters on a smile before pushing the final door open.
Lena looks up, and her eyes spark with joy at the sight of her. She rises from her seat, meeting Kara halfway to the desk to greet her with a brief, sweet kiss.
“Hey,” Lena says. “I just wrapped up the call. I just need to document what was discussed and then we can leave. They were ornery, but I’m persistent, so they eventually came around.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Kara returns. She watches Lena return to her seat and soon the soft clicking of rapid typing filled the air.
“Last night was fun,” Lena says, glancing briefly up to catch Kara’s gaze. Her eyes are bright, betraying the honesty of her words. “And your friends are nice. I like them.”
“Yeah,” Kara breathes. Her fingers reflexively reach up to adjust her glasses. Lena’s typing pauses. She looks up at Kara for a poignant moment, and Kara can see the moment her walls shutter into place behind her eyes.
“Ah.”
Lena’s gaze returns to the computer screen, and her long fingers resume their typing. Her tone is even, but the neutrality in it is clue enough that she’s more affected than she wants Kara to know.
“It… It’s not that they didn’t like you–”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lena says coolly. “I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”
“What I mean is–”
“It’s fine, Kara,” Lena cuts her off, irritation leaking through her facade. “It doesn’t matter–”
“It does to me!” Kara blurts. Her vision wobbles through angry tears. Her throat aches, but with the truth hanging between them the dam has broken. “It matters to me.”
Lena’s fingers fall still. Her gaze softens as her eyes find Kara’s. After a moment, she pushes her chair back and rises. Crossing around her desk, she leans back against it, arms folding over her chest. Lena studies the ground at her feet for a long moment before lifting her chin.
“Is it something I can fix?”
The question is plain yet loaded with thinly veiled hurt, and it breaks Kara’s heart to hear it. Then in the next heartbeat, anger flares in Kara’s chest. The one thing she admired most about Lena in this reality, the one thing she was never forced to do here, was to remake herself into something she wasn’t. To change herself to be more palatable to others.
And here she is, offering to do just that.
For Kara.
“No,” Kara croaks. Then, stronger, “no.”
Lena takes a deep breath. “Kara, I can see how much it means to you, to live your life as a singular whole. And I get it– I do. But I’ve seen this before. I know if it comes down to a choice between them and me… I know I won’t be the one to keep you.”
Her voice cracks, and Kara’s heart stutters to see the sudden tears in Lena’s eyes. Her own cheeks are already damp, and her breath hitches in her chest. Lena pushes towards her at the sound of it. Her palms frame Kara’s cheeks so gently Kara only sobs again.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers, lips quivering. “Kara...”
“You’re not.” Kara swallows, her hands coming to rest on Lena’s waist. The contact grounds her, lending her the strength that drained out of her the night before. It bolsters her, drying her tears even as Lena’s thumbs brush them from her cheeks. “You won’t.”
Kara leans in and kisses Lena firmly on the mouth. Then she wraps her arms around her, hugging her close enough to whisper low in Lena’s ear.
“I love you, Lena.”
Lena’s arms tighten around her waist, burrowing her face against Kara’s neck.
“You will never lose me,” Kara vows. Her jaw tightens. “Never again.”
She pulls away with another fierce kiss. Lena lets her go, but her touch lingers as they disengage. Kara backs up, keeping her gaze on Lena for a long moment.
“I have to go. But I’ll be back.” She smiles. “And brunch’ll be on me.”
Lena does her best to smirk, and it almost reaches her eyes. “Promise?”
Kara knows it’s meant to be a suggestive tease, but the nod she gives in return is as solemn as a vow.
“I promise.”
—
Kara issues only a short text to the group.
My place. Now.
If any of them had other plans, her tone plainly supercedes them, as fifteen minutes later her friends are all sitting on her couch watching her glare at them.
“I am angry,” she states, unnecessarily. “With all of you.”
Nia is the only one to quail at her tone. “Kara…”
“You are so indescribably selfish, each and every one of you. And you have the gall to say Lena is full of herself?”
Alex’s mouth opens in defiance, but Kara doesn’t give her the chance to speak.
“But you’re right about one thing– last night was a test. Lena might have failed yours… but you failed mine.”
Nia and Brainy look at each other, but Alex’s features don’t soften a bit. It only rankles Kara further.
“So what if she wins at all the games? None of you can pretend you wouldn’t do the same in her place.”
Brainy’s head tilts in concession, but her focus is caught once more by Alex once more drawing breath to protest.
“And the fact that I wait on her, as you so aptly put it?” she barks. “That I refilled her glass and kept her snacks topped up? What you conveniently failed to notice is that she didn’t ask me to do any of that!”
“No, she just expected it–!”
“I did it because I wanted to! Because I wanted her to be comfortable around my friends! Because I love her!”
Her voice rings out sharply in the sudden quiet. Kara hadn’t meant to admit it to them, not here, not now, but she refuses to take it back. She lets her scowl deepen.
“I love her,” she repeats, this time calmer. She looks at each of them. “I introduced you to the woman I love, and all you could think of were yourselves.”
Nia’s guilt visibly deepens, her shoulders bowing in on themselves. Brainy’s chin lifts, suffering the accusation stoically without denial. Only Alex remains unrepentant.
“Lena is kind and confident, and wonderful. She’s also stubborn, strong, and ruthless when she needs to be. I will not let her compromise any part of who she is just because you can’t handle who and what she is.”
A beat of silence follows, before Alex sighs.
“She was your boss, Kara,” she points out. Her tone, at least, has softened. “A boss you hated. And now she’s got you wrapped around her little finger? I don’t buy it. I don’t buy whatever she’s told you about how she’s changed, just to get you into bed–”
“Enough!” Kara shouts. Her hand slices through the air, silencing her sister, if only for a moment. She trembles with rage. “Don’t you dare say anything about something you know nothing about–”
“I’m your sister,” Alex fires back, “I know plenty–”
“She’s not the one who changed!” Kara cries, finally shocking Alex to a standstill. “You say you know me, but I’m the one who changed. For months, I’ve been different, and none of you have noticed.” She glares at her sister. “Not even you.”
None of them seem to know what to say. Even Brainy, astute and perceptive as he is, seems perplexed. She continues to glare at them, but ultimately reaches for her purse to leave. She’s done with this conversation.
“Lock up after yourselves,” she snaps. “I’ve got brunch to get to.”
She leaves them all where they sit, gaping after her until she slams the door shut behind her.
#supercorp#alt Assistant au#game night#read em and weep#got at least one more snippet on the brain#should have it up this week
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sleepless night
AN: Right right i've never written anything before but i read far too much smut to not contribute. Can't promise it'll be great but I kinda squealed through some parts i wrote so i suppose that means SOMETHING, ye?
plz im a 29 year old boomer on tumblr whatever i missed to post this such as TW and such forgive me. I used to lick stamps to post them on envelopes.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x AFAB!Reader
TW: 18+smut, fingering
NSFW MDNI ♡
You're both in bed for the night and it's been about half an hour since you've lied down but Simon's not lightly snoring like he usually does once he's asleep. Being on the field has taught him that he'll never know when there's a chance to rest, so Simon's usually out in minutes of lying his head on the pillows. Knowing he's still awake, you're about to turn around to ask him why he's still up when his grip on your hips tightens as he grinds his hard length against your ass. You softly moan as you grind back onto him.
"Si-"
"Hush, love. Let me take care of you, eh?"
You widen your thighs when you feel his hand slipping into your panties. Using his middle and ring fingers, he starts doing light circles on your hood, just above your clit. It's a little dry so Simon takes that hand, shoves his fingers in his mouth to gather moisture, and goes back to rubbing you.
The rough pads of his fingers start to feel slippery with your leaking arousal as they move to directly stroke your clit and every little motion sends sparks up your spine. Grabbing his thick forearm, you start to dig your fingernails into his skin as your clit starts to swell. Your thighs begin to tremble, toes curling as the coil in your lower belly is winding tighter-
"That's it, sweetheart, give it to me," he murmurs as he shoves two thick fingers into your dripping quim, using his thumb to continue drawing circles. You're at the very edge of the cliff, so fucking close, and Simon curls his fingers, pushes up and towards him, and your sweet pussy squelches—
"Fuckin' hell, pet."
There's a loud ringing in your ears as everything else lowers to a muffle, your gummy walls rhythmically pulse around his fingers, orgasm so intense you're soaking his hand and the bed sheets. Fingers on one side of the jaw and thumb on the other, Simon turns your head to kiss you—soft and languid. He pulls his fingers out of you and you hiss, hypersensitive. You watch him pull his hand up to look at the beauty of his work, spreading his fingers- strings of your sticky cum connect between them.
He turns to face you and with a smug little smirk says, "You've made a proper mess, love." Your cheeks redden as you turn your head into the crook of his neck and he gives a throaty chuckle.
Getting up from the bed to slot himself in between your shaky legs, he uses his thumb to pull the drenched gusset of your panties to the side and presses his thick length right up against your slit— it feels like velvet wrapped around steel, and oh so hot— he says, "Scream if you like, Darlin'. You're going to feel this."
cheers~
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#call of duty#cod smut#call of duty smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost x reader#simon riley
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🎙️ star-crossed lovers 【 薄幸な恋人 】 ⛦
summ✩ry While collabing with your girl group and Enhypen for a special stage, forbidden feelings spark between you and the main dancer upon dorming together
p✩iring idol!niki x popstar!reader ✩ requested ✩
-> PART 2 HERE
genre band au, fluff, secret romance cw swearing, mild bullying, the word ‘sexy’ like once, kissing, girl drama, reader is younger than Niki wc 4.4k
“Ugh,” Serenity groaned as the hairstylist applied yet another thick layer of chocolate brown hair dye to her scalp.
“This gig better bring in some serious bank, because never in my life would I willingly collab with those overrated wannabes,” she exclaimed, taking a frustrated sip from her vanilla latte.
“Hey, people used to call us wannabe's, too, you know,” Haerin said quietly as she tucked her hands under the UV light.
“Yeah, you should be more mature about this, Serenity... like I always say, professionalism triumphs pride," you added, only half-engaged in the conversation as a certain online article caught your attention.
As the band leader, you were always in charge of everything, so Serenity and Haerin were used to you talking to them this way...
“I’m just glad that we're getting exposure,” Haerin smiled, thinking of the countless nights you and your group spent practicing routines and writing songs for auditions, "it's not often that artists like us get opportunity's to perform internationally."
“For real,” Serenity cheered, “Riot Grrlz for the win!”
The three of you put your hands out to make a circle, “Riot Grrlz for life,” Haerin exclaimed, forgetting that her nails hadn't fully dried yet.
"Whoops," she giggled, just as Jade, the oldest of your group, made her way from the bathroom.
“What took you so long in there?” Serenity asked cheekily, “I thought we were gonna have to call the fire department.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” Jade returned, taking a seat beside Haerin so she could get her nails done, too.
“You were talking to the enemy, weren’t you,” Serenity accused.
“No, Ren, I didn’t go behind your back and sell my soul to the devil for fame.”
“Not that enemy,” Serenity grinned, “I'm talking about Mr. Six Foot Moon Eyes.”
“Oooooo,” Haerin amused, pulling your attention away from your phone.
“Ugh, let it up guys. My crush on Sunghoon is long gone, especially now that we’re gonna be working together. Besides, I would never act so recklessly over romance.”
“Who said anything about reckless romance,” you teased, unintentionally giving Jade a full view of the article your were reading on your phone.
"Nobody,” she began, “but I’m surprised you even heard that over all your internet-stalking.”
You were scrolling through a K-Pop news feed when you came across a post.
It was titled: "Enhypen Rumored By Netizens To Be Collabing With THIS Rookie Western Girl Group."
"Shush," you whisper-yelled at Jade, "unless you’re trying to get our record deals pulled!"
Just last week, your management team made you and your group sign a contract of secrecy, swearing silence regarding unpublicized business projects and associations: this included your upcoming collab with Enhypen that Jade nearly just spoiled.
Although, in all honesty, the blog's use of the word "rookie" bothered you more than potentially breaking any contract rules.
"Relax, boss, it's practically a ghost town in here," Jade defended, drawing your attention to the near vacant salon space.
Ding.
It was an email from your manager.
He wanted to inform you all that your chauffeur would be ready around 2:45am to bring you guys to the airport.
"Jeez," you mumbled to yourself, "looks like I'm not getting much sleep tonight."
“Shit,” Serenity whined, “I haven’t even made enough time to brush up on my Korean yet!”
“Luckily me and Haerin here are bilingual baddies,” Jade giggled, giving the cat-eyed girl a fist punch.
“Ahh, watch my nails!!”
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
Your company's fashion crew was experimenting with different concepts, assigning each of your members an individual color to permanently represent: Serenity was teal, Jade was purple, Haerin was white, and you were pink.
Some time passed, an you and your group arrived in South Korea around 3:00pm.
Thanks to the fashion tech your management team hired, it wasn't obvious that you and the girls had been in and out of sleep for the past 13 hours.
You couldn't help but stalk the headlines about your group, as rumors about your Enhypen collab continued to spread like wildfire.
So much for swearing silence and secrecy, you thought to yourself.
South Korean pop media had already seemed to build a vendetta against your group, given that you were young, talented, and most importantly, from the states. The xenophobia of most K-netizens was disheartening at best, but you understood that hate was a part of success.
Besides, you were living the dream of many engenes at the moment — most of them would sell their siblings to be in your shoes right now.
“Ahh! This is unreal!!” Jade cheered excitedly in the back of the limousine. You guys had just left the airport around thirty minutes ago, after getting past the pesky crowd of paparazzi.
“I know right? Korean McNuggets slap way harder than back home,” Haerin added while munching on the salty snack.
“Don't get too comfy, Rinnie. We will leave you here,” Serenity joked.
You hadn't even realized the radio was playing until a certain guitar riff blared from the ceiling speakers.
"Oh hell no," Serenity immediately cringed, covering her ears as you, Jade, and Haerin exchanged knowing look, bringing imaginary microphones to your mouths in unison.
It was Enhypen's song Blessed-Cursed, Jay’s voice singing "We go!" over the radio.
"Go, go, go, go, go, go, GO!!" The three of you cheered, obnoxiously dancing to the choreo while sitting.
Memories of your group (minus Serenity) binge watching music videos at sleepovers resurfaced in your mind.
Usually, you'd only listen to throwback hits like Britney Spears or Rihanna, mostly because Rnb and Pop beats inspired your own art.
Still and all, Blessed-Cursed was one video that the three of you fell in love, way before your upcoming collab was even a thought.
"Don't get mad when I start recording you clowns," Serenity threatened, thoroughly amused by your behavior.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
Upon arriving outside the Hybe Building, a trio of body guards guided you and your girls to an office room where the seven boys stood awkwardly around a large table.
Part of you still couldn't believe this was all actually happening, despite it being right in front of you.
“Hello! We are Enhypen,” Jungwon bowed as the guards exited the room.
Jay visibly cringed at his leaders words, “I promise we were told to introduce ourselves like that. Please don’t judge us.”
“Well, uhm… H-hi,” you stuttered, feeling a bit nervous, “We are the Riot Grrlz. It’s a pleasure being able to work with you all.”
Niki, the tallest of the boys, caught your attention immediately as he greeted you with a peace sign.
Was he always this cute?, you thought to yourself.
That’s when a lady dressed in all black barged through the glass door on the other side of the room.
“Sorry to interrupt… well, not really. Me and the Enhypen boys are already well familiar with each other, but you ladies can call me Kim,” she greeted, waltzing into the office as if owning the place.
She was a fast talker, so you knew you’d have to pay attention to what she was saying or else you might miss something.
“I hope you made use of each others time and gathered everyone’s names? Phone numbers?”
”We were just in the middle of that before you came in, Miss Kim,” Sunoo clarified.
“Very well then. You have a total of 15 minutes to lock in dorming arrangements. As you’ll see on this clipboard here…”
She paused mid-sentence, holding the clipboard dumbly.
“God, can one of you take this thing already?”
“Oh- sorry,” Heeseung chuckled nervously, taking the clipboard from the fiery woman.
“As I was saying, there are four rooms for the eleven of you to somehow divide. And no, just because you’re all hormonal young adults, none of you get a free pass to break the no-dating rule.”
“No-dating rule? What is this, a detention center,” Serenity mumbled.
Kim cleared her throat, feigning a smile as she glared at Serenity with narrowed eyes, “This is a place of utmost professionalism, Princess Land of The Free. If you have a problem adhering to the rules in place here, you are more than welcome to leave.”
“A-and after that? The fifteen minutes, I mean,” Haerin blurted out shyly.
“All of you will meet back in the main lobby, where you will be guided accordingly.”
Miss Kim turned of her black boots, beelining to the door with powerful strides, “The timer starts now” she called out, closing the door behind her.
And with that began your group discussion of rooming arrangements. Unfortunately, though, things didn’t get off to a particularly nice start.
“Are you effing kidding me?” Serenity asked rudely, screwing her eyes toward a now annoyed Heeseung, “Why can't we just get separate hotel rooms?!?”
“Look, there's no perfect way to go about this," he sighed, crossing out the roommate pairs you all had just agreed on. "So you either humble yourself, or sleep in the bathtub for the next two weeks."
“Really guys, the math is simple,” Jake started, “There’s eleven of us and only four rooms to choose from. Nine of us will be divided in groups of three, and the remaining two will share the last room together.”
"Cool! Me, ____, and Jade can share the first room together!" Haerin obliged with a smile.
"Perfect, and where will I go?" Serenity questioned, mocking Haerin's excitement.
"The bathtub, right?" Jay teased, provoking Serenity to argue with him.
Meanwhile, you attempted to make peace with everyone willing to listen, “Guys, I agree with Jake. We need to make a decision quickly before Kim gets back.”
“Right. Everyone in favor of room number 1, provide a show of hands,” Heeseung said, Jay and Jake raising their hands with him.
"And for room 2?" Jungwon initiated, raising his hand with Jade and Haerin.
A pout formed on Jade's face once she realized that Sunghoon wasn't in the same pair as her.
"3's the magic number, I guess…" Sunghoon offered, Serenity raising her hand with him.
Now it was just you, Sunoo, and Niki remaining.
"I'll group with 3, too. All of our name's start with "S," so it just makes sense that way," Sunoo joined shyly.
"Welp, now that leaves the final room for me and..."
"Me..." Niki spoke with a deep voice, flashing a mysterious half-smile-half-smirk that you knew would haunt your mind later.
"Me and me... the odd one's out! Wow, that's actually perfect!" Jake cheered just as the lady in black strut back in.
“Times up,” she said, taking the clipboard from Heeseung to analyze the finalized dorming plans.
“Hmm, interesting,” she mumbled to herself, tucking the clipboard under her arm.
You all made your way down to the main lobby, just as Kim instructed.
One of the security guards mentioned that Hybe suggested a dinner outing for your group and Enhypen as a way to end the night before you started work the next day… or maybe it was mostly a way to officially confirm the rumors about your collab.
Upon arriving, everyone sat at separate tables, divided according to who they agreed to room with.
Although Niki seemed quiet at first, you and him were giggling the babies the entire time you ate.
“Poor Jungwon. He’s gonna be sandwiched between Jade and Haerin for the next two weeks, his biggest fans,” you joked.
“Nah, Sunghoon and Sunoo have it way worse. Serenity’s attitude is enough to send me running,” Niki chuckled, shaking his head.
"Speaking of running, how come you were appointed leader over your group even though you’re a baby," Niki teased.
"Not you baby-shaming me! I was born in 06', you've barely got any experience on me."
"I've had an entire YEAR to catch up on things, for your information."
"Things like what? Potty training?"
"Pfft, probably..." he replied, going quiet for a second before continuing, "If you ever need help, though, I don’t mind practicing with you after hours.”
"Sounds like fun, but that might be past my bedtime," you pouted playfully, taking one of the fries off his plate.
"Hmm."
"Hmm what?"
"Nothing, I just didn't take you as the type to follow rules," he smirked, taking a sip from his soda.
"I guess it depends on what rules we're breaking. Whether it’s worth it or not."
"So rule breaking is a “we” thing now, huh?"
"Probably..." you smiled, the cool breeze of the foreign air sending shivers down your spine.
Or maybe that had something to do with Niki?
Before you knew it, it was time to head back to your dorms for the night. You knew rehearsals in South Korea were taken a lot more seriously than where you're from, so you needed all the rest you could get.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
Day one was easy.
The main focus was recording voice samples in the studio, experimenting with different harmonies, and training your vocals as needed.
Now you were on day two, which started with a quick vocal session, leading into the dance rehearsal warm-up right after.
After stretching, the studio was split in half, girls taking the left side and boys taking the right.
You all wore numbers on your back. This way, there wouldn’t be any confusion when any of your were being called.
Niki was assigned number eleven, and you had number one.
According to Jake, the numbers were disseminated based on skill level, and out of the 11 of you, that made Niki first place… and you the very last.
As rehearsals went on, your placement was proving to be true.
You were struggling to keep up with the choreography and it was really starting to bug you.
"Are you feeling okay," Niki asked as you sighed for what sounded like the hundredth time.
"Yea, I'm fine, it’s just this footwork is a bit tricky," you admitted.
“Aww, the smallest number for our most inexperienced contributor,” Serenity teased, making a pass at both your age and inability to get this one move right.
“I may be the youngest out of all of us, but I was appointed head over our group for a reason,” you snapped back.
“Yea… and it still shocks me to this day,” she mumbled, Jade and Haerin pausing to listen now.
You scoffed at her ignorance, putting your hands on your hips, “As if you could lead the Riot Grrlz any better.”
Serenity gave you a look that made you wanna drop here right there in front of everyone.
You never understood why she always had an attitude over the simplest things, and given the current work setting, your tolerance for her bull crap was at an all time low.
“Right, the Riot Grrlz. “Rookie Western Girl Group,” huh? And you expect me to be proud of that?”
“With pride of lionesses, of course,” Jade pitched in, leaning down to fasten her shoelaces.
“We should really keep working on our routine, guys,” Haerin mumbled quietly, causing the raging brunette diva to roll her eyes.
Meanwhile, the boys seemed to be getting along rather well with their part of the routine, completely blind to the chaos brewing at their left.
And by the boys, I mean all of them except Niki and Jake, who were both too distracted by your girl drama.
Way to go embarrassing myself again, you thought to yourself
“You’re new to this sort of training, aren’t you,” Jake asked curiously.
“What, did my shitty dance moves give it away?”
You know it wasn’t Jake’s fault, but you were started to doubt your abilities as an artist and performer.
Even Serenity felt as though you were letting your group down.
“You’re not a shitty dancer, ____,” Niki answered, walking closer to you.
“Yeah, Niki’s right. You shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself,” Jake added.
“Exactly! Just focus on your strengths,” Serenity pitched in, “your vocals, for example. You might ruin the dance routine, but at least you’ll save all the high notes with Heeseung.”
It was clear that you and Niki were equally fed up with Serenity’s toxicity.
“Okay, can everybody clear out for a moment," Niki clapped, causing everyone to back up against the walls almost instantly.
He pulled you by the hand, turning you to face him as he called out to Sunoo, "Put on a random dance track, real quick. Something upbeat, please."
“Gotcha!”
Turning back to you, Niki took your chin in his hand, making your eyes meet his. “Just follow my lead, okay?” He whispered, taking off the bracelet he wore before sliding it on your wrist, “Do you trust me?”
“Niki...” you started, not sure of what he was trying to do.
“I need you to feel the music, ____. Let it control you," he said, stepping away as a short remix of "Buttons" by the Pussycat Dolls blared from the radio.
You could hear an amused Serenity and Sunghoon chuckle a bit at Sunoo’s choice of song, but Niki remained serious.
His gaze met the ground before he started freestyling to the song, letting his mind and body get used to the rhythm as he flowed to the beat. You stood awkwardly beside him, not feeling up to dance at the moment.
He caught sight of you standing and nudged your shoulder, "Loosen up, ____," he smiled, finally starting to feel the song himself.
You started by mirroring his movements at first, adding a few steps to make it fit your own style more.
"See? Now you're getting it," he encouraged again, pulling you toward him so you could dance together.
Your friends and the boys cheered you and Niki on while you two danced as if choreographed.
The track ended with Niki's had on your waist, both of your chests heaving from all the action.
Haerin's jaw dropped as she struggled to find the right words or any words to say, “That was…”
“Sexy!” Heeseung smirked while playfully fanning himself, making Niki turn his face in embarrassment.
You could feel your own face getting hot now, too, especially with everyone staring.
"Relax, Rinnie, you're acting like you've never seen a guy dance with a girl before," Jade chuckled.
"N-not... n-never like THAT,” Haerin said with a shocked face, “____, you're amazing!"
"Thanks," you smiled shyly, eyes falling back the bracelet Niki put around your wrist.
"Keep it... it's a good luck charm," he replied softly.
"Alright, alright. You guys can loosen up each other's buttons on your own time," Serenity snapped, interrupting everyone's gawking.
"Right... On second thought, it’s time for our break," Jay called, handing you and Niki a rag for your sweat.
"Great job, you guys. See you in 20," Jungwon added.
"Come on, girls," you chirped, picking up your gym bag as you took a sip from your water jug, heading towards the studio exit.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
The rest of the day continued according to your work schedule. One vocal practice followed the other as the initially difficult routine felt more natural with each retake.
You also made a stop by Hybe's fashion team, getting your measurements taken so they could design your outfit for the upcoming stage.
Although this was a work trip, you were having a blast in Korea so far. You liked getting to work with the new people and trying different foods. You especially liked being roomies with Niki.
He was super talented, chill, yet flirty at the same time.
No wonder his fans go so crazy over him, you thought to yourself.
“Hey, ____,” Niki called out, jogging to catch up as you made your way from the dance studio after going back to get the pair of headphones you forgot near the water cooler.
“I wanna show you something…,” he announced, “Well, a thing I like to do.”
“Mhm, and what’s that?” You asked playfully.
He chuckled, “Just a thing that I can’t get away with while in idol mode. My secret escape... Are you interested?”
You meditated on his words before answering, considering the early curfew outlined by both your managers, and how it was already 8:00 at night, “It’s getting pretty late, you know… Is it gonna take long?”
He giggled again, this time leaning into you. “Only if you’re indecisive.”
The sounds of your sneakers tapping against the shiny tiled floors bounced off the hallway walls.
Like you said, girls would sell souls to be in your shoes right now: there’s no way you were gonna pass up on a chance to hang out with Niki…
A chance to explore this reckless romance.
“Ok, let’s go, but we have to be back by midnight,” you agreed.
“Ok, Cinderella. We’re not too far from where I wanna show you,” he beamed, fighting the urge to hold your hand as you followed him out of the Hybe Building, clashing into the night.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
The place was reminiscent of a skate park, graffitied ramp-like walls cupping you and Niki in the surface of the arena.
There were a few other people present, but they seemed more wrapped up in their own little worlds to even look your way…
The moon shined behind the thin clouds of the sky, basking you and Niki’s skin with an ethereal glow.
“This is it!” He gestured with open arms, “my secret escape.”
You tucked your hands in your pockets as it was a bit cold out, “A shared secret place?” You corrected, pointing out the tiny groups of people hanging around.
Niki pushed the hoodie from over his head, revealing his two-toned mane, “I guess you could say that… they’re all idols, here. Just like me. They get why I do this.”
“Why you do what,” you inquired, stepping over a few random rocks that decorated the path.
“Why I dance,” he answered almost immediately, looking you in the eyes, “for myself.”
He took a few steps away from you, swaying to the music that rippled from one of the mystery people’s carry-radios.
Like earlier, you mirrored his moves at first, adding your own adjustments based on intuition.
Feeling.
You had so many more questions to ask, but in this moment, you focused on Niki and the way he moved.
The small groups of people developed into a crowd within a matter of seconds, joining you and Niki along with the music.
Although everyone was doing their own thing, in a strange way if felt harmonious.
Some people danced calmly, others were more wild. Either way, you were starting to understand what Niki meant.
Being able to express yourself away from prying eyes, scornful comments, flashing cameras, or a number 1 sign on your back was invigorating.
The music was still going when Niki grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side, a soft look taking over his features.
“Kiss me,” he whispered, staring into your eyes.
“W-what?”
“I just need to know that what I’m feeling right now is real.”
You took his face in your hands, trying to make yourself feel more in control of the situation, “Niki, I don’t think we should do this. Your manager outlined pretty strict rules.”
He paused before responding, “Remember what you said at the restaurant the first day we met?”
His grip on your hands remained delicate despite how strongly he felt for you.
“About us breaking rules together… only if it’s worth it.”
“Exactly,” he smiled, leaning in, “I knew they didn’t call you a riot girl for nothing.”
His lips connecting with yours like a puzzle piece, both your hearts fluttering as if they’d grown butterfly wings.
You felt like your world was spinning at twice its original speed, but at the same time, the moment felt still.
Niki tilted his head, deepening the kiss as he braced a hand at your waist, pulling you closer before finally letting go.
“I like you, ____. Like, a lot,” he confessed, taking in the dreamy expression displayed on your face.
Your mind went blank.
“Say something? Please,” he urged, taking your hands in his.
A smile wavered over your features as you kissed him back on the lips, feeling as though you both stopped breathing for a moment.
“I like you too, Niki. But isn’t this pretty risky?”
“You said so yourself, risks don’t count if it’s worth it,” he nearly whispered.
“Well,” you began, still holding onto him, “if we’re gonna do this, it has to stay between us… no one else can find out.”
And just like that, you were now secretly dating your roommate / coworker / Enhypen’s main dancer and maknae / one of K-pop’s most sought after It-Boy’s, all in a three days.
Great.
▶︎ ၊၊||၊|။||||။၊| • • •
You and Niki made it back to you dorm rooms undetected. It seemed like everyone else was either too tired or too busy to notice that you two were out for so long.
Unlocking the door to as quietly as possible, you and Niki took light steps, trying not to disturb anyone or draw attention to yourselves.
Once the door was closed, you both bust out in a fit of laughter for reasons you didn’t understand nor cared to understand.
You didn’t need a reason laugh when Niki was around… it’s kind of just something that started to happen over the last couple days.
“What’s your secret to performing so well?” You asked him, both laying face-up on the lower bunk bed together.
“Hmm, I feel like nervousness is a strength. It pushes you to go forward in a sense…”
“Yeah… I get that. Sometimes, I feel like being calm is dangerous. It puts you in a safe space, when performing should be all about taking chances.”
“Right,” he agreed, resting a hand over his stomach, “Speaking of chances, they’re precious, you know? I never just assume I’ll get another opportunity to dance.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Like…” he sighed, trying to find the right words, “Every time I get on stage… in front of those lights… in front of my fans… I perform-”
“As if it’s your last…” you answered for him.
“Yeah, that,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “You know, it’s really nice talking to someone who gets me… the dancer part of me.”
“Of course, it’s really nice talking to you, too, Niki,” you smiled softly.
Breaking the calmness of the moment, he sat up in his elbows, meeting your face.
“Top or bottom?” He asked, referring to where you wanted to sleep for the night.
You crawled over his body, climbing into the upper bunk of the bed and laying down to finally rest.
“Good night, number 11,” you teased, snuggling into the mattress.
“Rest well, number 1. Big day tomorrow.”
🎙️ For my baby, @microwvdstrawb3rri3s, I hope it was worth the wait ~ And yes, before you ask, there will be a second part 💕
⛦ Additional tags for my fellow Niki enthusiasts: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @nikisblkgf @yourmomscuntis2tighy @nikimeows @kimjiho1 @nikipedia07 @nishimuradaniel
🎙️ Feel free to check out more fun reads on the pinned post at my home page ~
@ashgonedash, I still felt bad about forgetting to tag you earlier 👑 so here you go, my love :3
Update: THANK YOU ALL SM FOR 400 NOTES!!
#niki fluff#niki x reader#niki x y/n#niki scenarios#niki fanfic#niki imagines#niki soft hours#niki blurbs#niki drabbles#enha niki#niki enhypen#enhypen#enhypen nishimura riki#niki ff#enhypen riki#nishimura riki#enhypen x reader#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#enhypen soft hours#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen blurbs#enhypen drabbles#enhypen ff#nishimura riki x reader#niki x female reader#niki x you
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since childhood!!
you meet as childhood friends
~feat. twst housewardens~
~twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader~
warnings: reader is not yuu/prefect and is different for each imagine to fit the setting of the boys (ex: reader is fae in malleus', merfolk in azul's, etc.)
if you want more childhood-like fics, i wrote one with ace and jack linked here!
♡the child you meet at a playground and never see again♡
Riddle Rosehearts couldn’t even remember how or when you had joined him, Trey, and Che’nya in their daily time playing outside the nearby neighborhood. He just knew that once he had stepped outside that day—sneaking out of his home during his study time—you, a strange, new child, had been mindlessly throwing a ball to Trey, giggling in the process. Any outsider passing by could have sworn you‘d already known the young trio for years. Odd, but the boy found himself not objecting to your time spent with him and his friends. You were somehow very comfortable to speak with, and Riddle couldn’t help but find your playfulness intriguing.
“Ha! I win again!” you jumped up and cheered with Trey and Che’nya sitting in a small circle as all three of you held up your hands in exhilaration.
“Congratulations,” Trey said, returning a proud smile. Resting on a grass-filled hill, the three of you helped yourselves to pass the time with a simple game that lasted longer than expected, if you all were to be honest. Riddle—insisting to only observe for the round—caught sight of the way your competitiveness mixed with Trey’s insightfulness and Che’nya’s natural wit. It was interesting. The way you easily conversed with everyone despite only meeting hours ago, he means.
“Hey, red-head!” you then called out to the young boy watching from afar, “Do you wanna play now? I can teach you the basics; It’s really just a hand game.”
Riddle contemplated for a second until walking closer to join the group, “... I suppose I’ll join.”
“Great!” you beamed, “The game’s called Concentration. Basically, we pick a category and all four of us have to go around taking turns saying a word that matches that specific category. Like if it was, for example, colors, then we all could say things like blue, orange, red—you get the gist of it.”
A nod then came from the red-headed child who was now seated next to you.
“The catch, though,” you continued, “is that you cannot at all hesitate when it’s your turn. So no pausing before speaking. This game’s supposed to be quick and fast. Got it?”
“I’m sure I do—?”
“Good! Let’s start.” With a swift clap of your palms, the game had begun as Riddle was practically pushed into the game with your excitement. Truthfully, he had not the faintest clue as to what he had been doing, but he supposed there was no harm in simply trying, yes?
“Hmmm, the category for this round, then, would be…” you squinted your eyes, appearing to be deep in thought, “Desserts! Go!”
“Vanilla cake,” Trey began.
“Truffles~” sang Che’nya.
“Strawberry tarts,” Riddle quickly replied.
“Crap!”
Crap?
“All this dessert talk made me remember that my parents wanted me to turn off the oven before ever going out! They’re really gonna kill me this time, I just know it!” you panicked as you suddenly explained your predicament, scrambling from the ground to get back up on your feet, “I gotta go, guys! Bye!”
“And don’t think any of you won just yet! It’s a draw until I say so!” you hollered out to the three boys as you left each of them bewildered and confused. Now only being able to see the back of your running form, Riddle found that, just as you had first met them that day, you had similarly disappeared with a clap of your hands like a ghost of a light at midnight.
Riddle wondered if he’d ever see you again. Sevens, he didn’t even get to catch your name.
♡the friend you sneak out with♡
“Why are you so slow? Get moving! I’ve seen sloths move faster than you, dumbo.”
The young Leona Kingscholar, having heard the ceaseless comments coming from your also young form, gave you a classic deadpan only he could display so perfectly within the empty gardens of the Kingscholar palace. No soul had been there as the only living creatures that remained were the critters chirping their music into the night and breeze of the gardens speaking back with delicacy. That, and everyone else within the grandiose palace had been rooms away, probably swaying to whatever music the Kingscholars had orchestrated for the ball that would take place that day.
“Yeah, well why don’t you quiet down a bit, hm? You’re hurting my eardrums,” the boy replied, rubbing his left ear in annoyance. For the amount of times you both had snuck off with each other, Leona had thought you would have caught on to the main rule of sneaking out: remaining as quiet as possible until it was safe to speak.
You’ve gotta be kidding me, the chocolate-haired boy thought.
Playfully poking at his side, you began an attempt to tease him even just for a little bit, “Aw, does the little kitty not like it when he hears my oh-so-wonderful voice?”
“Yeah. It’s obnoxious.”
“Hey—!”
“Shhhh!” Leona, albeit quite swiftly, suddenly placed a firm hand against your mouth, causing you both to halt in place behind an unassuming stone wall, “I think the guards are coming…”
Your heart began to race with anticipation. If the palace guards had managed to catch you two escaping a chance to socialize at a royal event, you would never hear the end of it from your families. “... Do you hear them?” a worried whisper mumbled from your nervous figure.
“Mhm, could you keep watch over here?” the boy said as he bent down on his knees, concealing himself whilst facing the other direction, “I’ll go look on the other side.”
Trusting your dear—and sometimes reliable—friend, you peeked your head out from the wall, keeping watch just as Leona said to do. The gardens had been practically deserted; a stillness in the way the gentle wind blew past the branches had almost convinced you that there was, indeed, no one there.
Was he just… seeing things? you questioned. But your beastman friend would never, right? His senses were probably a thousand times more intuitive than yours. He’d never make such an obvious mistake.
“Uhm, Leona? I don’t think I see any—” you started as your small hand reached out to tap the boy, but not without noticing the way he had been draped against the wall, seemingly knocked-out unconscious as a barely even noticeable drop of drool spilled from his snoring mouth.
“Leona, you lazy wimp!!”
♡the friend you see at one specific place♡
“Are you done yet?”
“No, (Y/n), I am not,” a young octopus-like boy stated as he simultaneously juggled numerous books and papers on all ten of his limbs, particularly focused on the words written on each page. He sat on his own within a shadow-crested octopus pot and looked as if he had not come out of the pot in ages, you observed. Concerning, but nothing new, you thought. “And I won’t be done until far later,” he said, scrunching his face together, “What do you want?”
You mindlessly began poking at a piece of coral, paying no mind to the boy’s slight sass to his tone. “Nothing~ I just thought I could find you here. Turns out I was right.” You watched as Azul helped himself to another book from his rather tall pile, closing another to add to his collection. “Studying again, I see,” a knowing look then escaped your form as your eyes lit with a teasing shine, “Plotting something against me, Azul?”
“I wouldn’t rule out the possibility,” he replied halfheartedly, “Especially if you keep coming here to disturb me.”
You exclaimed, feigning offense, “Never! I’m simply keeping you company.” The boy then peered up to you as you swam closer to him, reminiscing the earlier days of your friendship. “I still remember the first time I saw you here, crying on your own. The growth you’ve had since that day really is admirable—“
“Enough,” Azul shot you an annoyed glare, “It was already unfortunate for you to first meet me as tears welled from my eyes; there’s no need to sugarcoat the memory.”
Jumping at Azul’s assumptions, you worriedly began to amend any insecurities that struck the young boy beside you. “I’m not sugarcoating anything! And crying in front of me that day was nothing to be ashamed of. If I hadn’t heard your voice coming from the pot, I would’ve never come back here each day, let alone know of your existence in the first place.” You let your palm reach forward to hold his—quite soft—face, allowing your innocent touch to spread to him. “You have grown. But it’s okay to cry too, okay?”
“Alright,” Azul mumbled, face still remaining in your small hands. “Anyway,” he continued as he pulled away from your arms, “do you plan on returning home soon? Your family may worry.”
“No, it’s fine,” you shrugged as a soft ocean current moved past the locks of your hair, “I’ll stay here.”
“You don’t have to—“
“I want to.”
Azul had gazed back at you, almost stunned. “If that is what you wish, then be my guest,” he complied.
You then gave him a gentle smile, “Of course.”
♡the friend you find when you are lost♡
“(Y/n)~! Wait for me!” Kalim said, hollering out to your speeding figure under the golden glow of the Scalding Sands as shadows of the plentiful buildings stretched out with the lowering evening sun. What time it exactly was, you did not know. All you had known was that there was still an ample amount of time for you and your new friend, Kalim, to explore the world around you—seeing as the young boy was just as excited as you.
“The town waits for no one, Kalim! It was made for adventure!” you shouted back behind you, almost leaving the white-haired boy for the dust if he had not caught up sooner. “If there’s one thing you should know about this place, it’s that! Or…” a thoughtful pause then cut between your rambles as you stopped in your tracks, “That’s what my grandparents always tell me, at least. Who knows.”
Kalim—who was now standing beside you—then gave you a grin that could send rays of sunshine to shame with its brightness, “Jamil always tells me to never venture to the town, though; maybe he just doesn’t know the kinds of fun that await here!”
“Eh, I know I’ve never met the kid,” warily, your hand began to reach for your other in concern for your newfound companion, “but this Jamil dude doesn’t sound too… fun.”
“Of course he is, he’s my friend!”
“I know he is, but look at us!” you said as you threw your arms up in the air, exclaiming, “We just met today after I saw you wandering off into Sevens knows where, but we still have fun! Jamil, on the other hand, sounds like he stops you from any kind of fun. What kinda friend does that?”
Kalim, still seeming to be unfazed by your concerns as he let out a laugh, shot you his millionth smile of that day, “He means well!”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” you muttered. “Anyway, enough of that! There’s this really cool area in the alleyways I know that’s perfect for—”
“Kalim!” an unknown voice was then heard not too far from the both of you, “Where have you been?!”
“Jamil! There you are!” the young boy to your left called out to the voice as the mysterious figure treaded closer and closer—but not without you tensing up with caution. “This is my new friend—” Kalim started, cheerily pointing towards you.
“I deeply apologize, but there’s just no more time to waste,” the unknown figure, who you now saw had long locks of dark hair, paid no mind to you as he fretted over your giggling friend, “You’re lucky our families haven’t realized you were gone just yet or I’d never hear the end of it. Come, now. We have to get back quickly.”
“Oh, okay!” Kalim swiftly replied as he waved back enthusiastically to you, “I’ll see you again, (Y/n)!”
Yelling your final goodbyes, you saw as the forms of the two children around your age hastily walked back to wherever their home resided, silhouettes following after with the sky setting in front of them.
Although despite the day concluding on its own, you never could understand why Kalim’s friend, Jamil, was so protective over him. Sure, you thought, the young boy could be a tad oblivious at times—that you could admit—but going so far as to act as a caretaker for the boy as opposed to being a friend? It’s not like Kalim was the son of a very impactful family that needed protection. He’s just a normal kid for Seven’s sake!
Right?
♡childhood rivals♡
Vil Schoenheit had had enough.
Why out of all the students who attended this dance studio, he had to be partnered with you? The young boy had always thought this, what with you two being dance partners despite the clear friction between the both of you since he could remember. The only reason Vil had ever found himself tolerating it was because of the sole fact of your dance instructor’s judgment. You were talented, he reluctantly admitted. And rehearsing with you out of all people would only benefit his own skills in the arts if he ever wished to get anywhere with his strive for perfection.
The pursuit of beauty knows no bounds, Vil thought as he adjusted the strap stabilizing his dance shoes.
“Vil!” a familiar—but scour inducing—voice then intruded on the boy’s preparation as he turned his face to look at your a-little-too-cheery-for-his-taste form. “It’s so nice to see that you’ve made it to today’s lesson! I remember you were absent last week because of an important commercial shooting, yes? We all missed your…” you halted yourself, unnecessarily emphasizing your words as if to discredit the compliments coming from your mouth, “treasured talent.”
Vil scoffed at your empty sweetness. “I’m sure you did, (Y/n).” The young actor tilted his chin up as if to search for his own thoughts while doing his best to cover the glare he dearly wished to give you at that moment, “Although, you’ll be out next week too, correct? I hear you’ve been casted in a children’s show as a special guest.” The blond-haired child then turned back to the straps of his shoes, mumbling to himself, “... That I also had auditioned for.”
Feigning ignorance to his bitterness, you continued carrying on the conversation with your precious dance partner—relishing the way he stared at you with envy at your obtained role in the process. “Ah, yes. Well, as you know, showbiz is showbiz, Schoenheit. Not all of us will get what we want,” you gave him a smile he could only read as a way to anger him even more. “Perhaps we’ll both be casted next time. That would be wonderful, would it not?”
“Indeed.”
A single clap from your instructor was enough for the entire studio to grow quiet, signaling the start of class as students began rushing to their places, “Alright, class, it’s time to begin! Places!”
You gave your partner a final grin as the room was filled with music to go with your warm up, “Don’t trip today, Schoenheit.”
“As if I ever would, (L/n).”
♡online friends who’ve never met♡
With technology constantly surrounding him, it was only natural for Idia to have met you in the online world. Where else would a shut-in like himself find some sort of social interaction he'd actually be willing to be a part of?
Gloomurai: korie! u wanna hop on midnite l8ter? live event drops tday
korie66: ayooooo
korie66: im down. lez do it >:)
Gloomurai: nice
Gloomurai: korie and gloomurai back at it again
Although, he supposed he didn't really know you. Sure, he knew the artificially curated version you would introduce yourself as within the chat logs on public servers. But he had never known the "IRL" version of you, let alone your real name. Still—Idia thought as he sat in front of his blue and black gaming set-up, monitor displaying another game he'd binge that night—it was still nice having a buddy to play numerous games with. A kid like him who had the same interests. A kid who also found freedom within the internet.
korie66: YOOOOOOO GLOOMURAI
korie66: GET ON MAGITROPICA RN
Gloomurai: wht? y?
korie66: FREE STUFF
Gloomurai: DONT HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE
Both of your days were spent trading the best items, sharing tips for a new game level, or even just chatting for the fun of it. Each night Idia had even found himself eagerly shuffling to his room, shutting the door behind him, and turning on his PC just to make it in time for your scheduled co-ops.
Eventually, you and Idia had found yourselves much more open with one another as well; a certain kind of trust that could only form with the number of years you had played together. What was the point in finding real-life friends, the young Idia thought as he snagged a bag of chips to eat while playing with you, if he had you to spend time with instead? One friend was all he needed, and you filled that roll perfectly!
Gloomurai: YESSSSSESEES LETS GOOOOO
korie66: NICE GOING GLOOMI~~ WE TOTALLY BEAT THAT LAST BOSS LEVEL LMAO
Gloomurai: YEAH
Gloomurai: FR THE BEST DUO
korie66: I SWEAR IM NEVER DITCHING U, GLOOMI
korie66: CANT DO ANYTHING W/O YOU LOL
Gloomurai: U BETTER NOT HAAHAHAHAJ
This was all he needed. Your friendship was all he needed.
Idia—now a third year student and housewarden at Night Raven College—sighed as he closed the latest game he'd been playing, cracking his back as he stretched like cat waking up from a deep sleep. Determining it was far too early for bedtime, however, the young man had decided it was a good hour to clear out his PC's memory. It was about time. It had been a while.
Scrolling and deleting through file and files, memories, and unused downloads, Idia had found nothing of importance to him and trashed everything in his path. That is, until he spotted a familiar chat log that read UNSTOPPABLE DUO hidden deep within his message history.
The Ignihyde housewarden gazed at the chat name he knew all too well. A certain feeling then began to rise within his chest as his hand subconsciously guided his mouse towards the familiar icon of your profile picture, still the same as it was years ago.
This is a really bad idea, Idia voiced in his mind. Yet, despite being against his own actions, Idia watched as his own hand clicked your name—only to spot a sea of red text blaring through the screen as he peered at the pixels of his computer:
korie66: Last Active 10 years ago. . .
Idia slumped over in his chair at the text, dejected, "I don't know why I even tried."
Shutting off his monitor, the blue-haired boy then stood from his chair and begrudgingly marched back to his bed, concluding his late night. He hadn't known what he was even expecting, at that point. He'd long knew of your inactivity; it's not like he didn't know what he'd see.
It really was just a shame you never had a chance to meet each other, Idia thought. He supposed, though, that some people were never meant to truly remain friends, to remain together.
And you were no exception to that.
♡the friend you meet by accident♡
“OH SEVENS NOT AGAIN—”
“Hm?” Malleus, who had been peacefully reading a book during his break from his studies, suddenly peered up from his spot in the palace gardens at the alarming shouts coming from the sky. It had been a relatively clear afternoon; one with few clouds in the atmosphere and very few birds soaring above, which only left the young fae even more curious at the panicking screams he could catch from his place beside the flower beds. Gently placing his now discarded book down to the grass, Malleus then made his way closer to the figure as a blur of (h/c) fell from the sky and into a nearby bush.
Thud!
“Ugh, I knew trying that spell would be a total fail,” the figure, who Malleus could now make out as a fae child around his age, dwelled as they rubbed a couple bruises on their arms, healing themselves. “I guess this is what happens when I don’t listen to Mother, but—"
“Ahem,” Malleus cleared his throat, finally gaining the child’s attention.
“AAAHHH—” you screamed again, only this time with shock at the sight of another living being around you. “Gosh, don’t scare me like that! What if my magic went all kapooey on you?! What would happen then?” you scolded the rather tall boy as you stood up from your previously injured state—skin now pristine due to your magic.
“Hm…” the dark-haired boy before you contemplated your words, “Then I suppose going ‘kapooey’ wouldn’t be very good for me, correct?”
“Exactly! I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You turned your body away from the boy as you inspected your dirt-stained clothes, wincing at the rips caused from your fall into the bush. “I don’t even want to imagine what Mother would do to me if she found out I’d harmed another fae—another child at that, too! Although,” your eyes then followed up the fae’s face and pointed its attention straight towards the two black horns resting atop his head, “you do look a bit different than me… Where are we right now?” No other fae from where you were from had any such horns like his; you were sure of it! You must’ve landed in another land other than your own, if that were the case.
But where, exactly? You thought.
“Briar Valley,” the horned-boy swiftly replied, “The palace, to be exact.”
“Briar Valley?! I must have traveled further than I thought, then!” a frazzled exclaim escaped your mouth as you struggled with your hands to prepare whatever spell had gotten you there in the first place. “I have to go right away! So sorry for intruding, uh…” a hesitant pause ensued as you held out a hand to the child, signaling an introduction from him.
“Malleus. My name is Malleus,” he softly gave you a smile.
You returned his smile with a grin of your own, shaking his hand, “Right. Thank you, Malleus. I’m (Y/n).”
“It was no issue.”
And with your final goodbyes to the fae you’d just met, Malleus then stood and followed your form as you disappeared to Sevens know where. The only remnants left of your presence were the gold, sparkling specs of magic that remained after you casted your spell, filling the palace garden with dust that resembled stars scattered throughout the greenery. Malleus, at the sight of your magic, had then begun to wonder just where you had come from and why you had landed there that day as quickly as you left.
The chances of seeing you again were slim. Still, however…
“(Y/n),” Malleus had whispered to himself.
“A lovely name for a fae such as themselves, yes?”
a/n: ALL IN FAVOR FOR MORE RIVAL READER X VIL SAY AYEE-AYEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
god this was such a nightmare to finish iM SO GLAD I PULLED THROUGH THO I FR GAVE UP HALFWAY ESPECIALLY WITH IDIA'S-
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst imagines#twstnexus#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#♢the scribe♢
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A list of underrated fics I adore.
▪️this don’t feel anything like sinking by
@dontcallmebree
A little over six weeks and his knee heals only for his breathing to act up. It may have been a handful of decades—coming up on a century, even—but he never did forget how it felt to wheeze through the night.
Steve sees it coming when Dr. Youssef tells him his lungs are taking a turn.
The year 2032 brings about the Summer Olympics, the coldest winter of the decade, and an end to Project Rebirth.
🔹 Learning to want by @luna-rainbow
Bucky is still trying to piece together his memories, but at least he now had Steve with him.
When Steve asks him if he wanted to meet with his sister, Becca, his response was, "I don't know about wants...I'll start with the shoulds."
Steve and Bucky goes for lunch with Becca. Steve and Bucky dealing with memory loss. Steve and Bucky being mutually pining idiots.
▪️better to speak or die by emilywithoutY (@between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place)
Summers in C. are as endless and hazy as when they were kids. All James wants is to play his part well enough that his mother stops looking at him with that twist of regret in her smile.
The only thing to break the sun-soaked monotony is the arrival of the new summer intern. While the rest of the household—and half the village—fawn over Steve Roger’s movie star looks and understated charm, James finds him aloof and his polite interest near unbearable.
But as they collide in vulnerable moments, the sparks of frustration ignite something neither has the power to stop.
Do you think Jonathan understood what happened that day David first stepped into his father’s court?
🔹The weapon remembers by pushdragon
The Winter Soldier finds old fantasies of Steve in his memory, and takes them for reality.
He's got two days to sort out all his mixed-up history, before he puts himself back in cryo freeze. Harder still, he's got to convince Steve to let him do it.
▪️Preberseeschießen by Ginny_Potter (@hipsterdiva)
Bucky takes his time, ignoring his comrades’ cheering and Gaiswinkler and Mariandl’s teasing. From his position, Steve only has an oblique view of Bucky’s face, which is mostly in the dark anyway – the strong line of his jaw, a smudge of grease on his cheekbone, a sweaty lock of hair curling on his forehead, his mouth pouting in concentration. Steve itches to draw him, to take out his battered sketchbook and reproduce that instant of perfect imperfection. Steve itches to touch him, push back his unruly curls, wipe away the smudge on his cheekbone, cup his face in his hands and…
Bucky breathes out and shoots. The bullet hits water… and there it is, the zapping sound of paper tearing.
The light turns on and off three times. Third circle. Just a lick out of bullseye.
The Howlies explode in cheers.
Or, the Howling Commandos play a shooting game with the Austrian Resistance and Steve has lots of unresolved feelings about himself, his new body, and his changing relationship with Bucky. In other words, comrades are comrades, angst looms, and Steve feels.
🔹Till there were no more wolves in the West
by @dharmasharks
“I’m afraid of a lot of things, Steve,” Bucky says softly.
“But this thing sticking in my heart—the part of me that’s yours? It is the best part of me. Maybe the only good part.” His rueful smile wavers. He makes a pained expression.
“What if it’s the only good part?” he asks.
Two Brooklyn boys find themselves aboard an orphan train headed west in 1854. Across farmland, war, and the lawless frontier, a childhood promise helps them find each other again.
(A Western SteveBucky retelling.)
▪️Hiraeth by ixalit
Hiraeth
noun /ˈhɪraɨ̯θ/
[Welsh] A homesickness or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that never was.
🔹Undone by justanotherStonyfan
You’d think, given everything, that if one of them were going to regress, that if one of them were going to break down, it would be Bucky.
(Set mostly after Endgame - canon deaths remain but Steve doesn't leave)
▪️But You Can Hold Me (Only 'Cause It's a Cold Night in Brooklyn) by Voylitscope_speed (@voylitscope)
This should just be two friends getting off after the burlesque show. This should just be two pals both thinking about the girl. That would probably be okay, Bucky thinks.
But then he ruins it all when he says,
"Come here," and puts a hand out to tug on Steve's shoulder.
(Or: Sometimes, Bucky and Steve lend each other a hand, literally. Bucky tries not to be weird about it, but he's always been bad at controlling his thoughts about Steve.)
🔹Midlife Crisis by profoundalpacakitten
Steve isn’t expecting much of anything from life, he’s content to coast by, letting life flow past. Get up, get dressed, get to work, get home, get to sleep, rinse and repeat.
▪️ The Magic Touch by @broodybuck
The soldier is finally free but he has one big problem, he can't finish. Until he meets a man called Steve who apparently has the magic touch.
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His Caretaker | Jamie Drysdale
summary: after Jamie has too much to drink you get called to help get your boyfriend home.
request: yes/no
warnings: mentions of being drunk, tooth rottingly sweet couple.
word count: 1.54
authors note: Jamie gives me such soft vibes and this is fully what this piece is based off on. The baseball fan in me loves that picture of him (not even an angles fan but I’m willing to look past that). Fluff is not my forte so I’m gonna hope that this isn’t shit and sorry that you’ve had to wait so long for your request to be filled!
Somehow you should have known you wouldn’t be getting your own way tonight.
A relaxing evening was what you had planned for yourself after you turned Jamie’s offer of joining him and the boys at the bar. Sure you wanted to spend time with your boyfriend but going out was the last thing you felt like doing after the hectic day of college classes that you had been through all you wanted was a nice bubble bath.
Sure Jamie was a little upset that you didn’t want to come but when you told him to have a good night for the two of you, he seemed to take that a little bit more literally than you intended.
A groan fell from your lips when your phone began to ring “yes?” You tried to act like Jamie hadn’t just interrupted the movie you were watching.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought you heard your boyfriend in the background of the call “y/n you gotta come get Jamie,” Trevor explained as he was somewhat panicked “I wanna say hi!” Jamie whined as his eyes lit up at the mention of you.
You were quick to get up as you grabbed your shoes “I’ll be there in like fifteen?” Anaheim wasn’t usually known for its traffic but you knew that it would be longer for a weekend on what was bar central street “I want her now,” it was the complaint in Jamie’s voice that made you know he was doing his puppy dog face that he would do whenever he would want to get his way in something that you two were planning “and tell Jamie to stop pouting because I’m coming,” you pointed out as you shut the front door to the apartment.
It wasn’t hard to find the boys, Trevor had sent you a message saying that they were going to sit out front as some of the other boys were now also waiting for their girlfriends “y/n!” Jamie cheered as he saw you get out of your car.
A smile formed on your lips as you couldn’t help but laugh “hi baby,” he almost knocked you off of your feet as he wrapped his arms around you “missed you,” he confessed now making all of the boys laugh.
You kissed his cheek as he nuzzled his head in crook of your neck “you can let go of me,” despite the fact that the hug felt really nice you sort of needed to look at his friends to talk to them “never,” Jamie shook his head not liking your idea.
Somehow you managed to position yourself to actually see them whilst not letting go of Jamie “I’m going to get this man child home,” you announced drawing a scoff from your boyfriends lips.
Jamie furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you “I’m not a man child!” He complained as he let his lips form a pout again “you’re my man child,” you spoke in a duh tone as you pecked his lips. It was that gesture that almost made him melt as his irritated look turned soft and smiley “let’s go,” he nodded as he sent a wave to his friends. The boys all couldn’t help but shake their heads as they waved back knowing that the Canadian was not going to remember this tomorrow.
It seemed that the second Jamie’s head hit the headrest of his seat he was out. In all honesty you couldn’t help but look over to him occasionally to smile at yourself, you found yourself the cutest boyfriend you could have asked for “baby?” Jamie mumbled as he looked at you when the car stopped at a red light.
His eyes fluttered open as he had woken himself up “hi love,” you felt giddy as he reached out to grab your right hand. Usually whoever was driving only got one hand for the steering wheel as the other was usually being held by the passenger, Jamie’s real favourite place to put his hand though was actually on your knee when he drove you two through the streets of California.
The soft sounds of the engine rumbling seemed to help Jamie fall back asleep but not before he could remind you “I love you,” it was like each time he said it you fell more and more in love with him.
Even though he was asleep you still responded “I love you too,” as you kissed his hand before you continued the rest of the drive back to your apartment.
The only real thing that you had felt on the way up to your apartment was the warmth of Jamie’s hand, he had this smug looking smile on his face too “what’s got you all happy?” You asked as the elevator doors opened up to your floor.
Jamie threw his arm around you “you love me,” he slurred as he tapped his finger on your nose.
It drew a laugh from your lips “yeah I do,” you nodded in amusement as he repeated that you loved him all the way until the two of you reached your door.
Thankfully you hadn’t locked it so it meant that you two could just walk right back in “I’m gonna need you to strip baby,” you cooed as you realised that the front of his white shirt had beer spilt on it.
The comment only made Jamie smirk “didn’t know you were so horny,” he teased as he placed his hands on your hips.
You shook your head “don’t want you sleeping in this,” you explained causing him to look down at his outfit, those denim shorts really weren’t ideal to sleep in.
All the boy could do was mutter an “oh” as he began to walk to your room. As drunk as he was he still seemed to have that clear thinking part of him.
He pulled the shirt over his head letting you get a moment to look at his naked chest “you like what you see?” Jamie asked as he began to unzip his pants. You smiled as you nodded “got me a cute boyfriend,” you announced as you placed a peck on his lips.
With his clothes now on the floor you picked them up “let’s go brush your teeth,” on the way to the bathroom you had the chance to drop his clothes into the hamper.
It seemed like Jamie remembered the few times that he had taken care of you in the bathroom as he walked over to the sink “sit on that,” you shook your head as the height difference between you two was not going to make brushing his teeth easy if he was stood up.
Jamie sat on the lid of the toilet as you had him open his mouth “you’re so bossy,” he mumbled as you placed his toothbrush in his mouth.
You sent him a thoughtful look as you contemplated entertaining his conversation “I’m just helping you.” You pointed out as you continued to brush his teeth “it’s hot,” you were surprised that you heard what he said between the toothpaste and the toothbrush in his mouth.
A smile formed on your lips “thank you,” you bit your lip as you tried to not let your cheeks turn pink.
His hands trailed up your legs before they wrapped around behind you to squeeze your ass “keep your hands to yourself mister,” you warned causing him to giggle as he raised his hands in surrender.
These cute moments in your bathroom weren’t usually a thing as you both had very different morning schedules and not to mention that Jamie didn’t live with you, he just had a lot of his clothes there “go spit and rinse,” you reminded him as you took the toothbrush out of his mouth.
He followed your request as he dried his face before he looked up to you with an over exaggerated grin “nice and shiny,” he spoke as you nodded before you motioned to him to go back to your bedroom.
Your walk back to your bed was short as you watched Jamie plop onto the mattress “oh my god you’re taking up the whole bed!” You complained with a laugh as you watched him sprawl out on his back “there’s space for you,” Jamie nodded to himself as he smiled.
You played your hands on your hips “where?” You waited for him to answer but instead you were met with his hands on your hips as he pulled you onto him “J!” You squealed as he wrapped his arms around you practically trapping your body on top of his.
The boy let out a giggle as he kissed your forehead “isn’t this nice,” he confessed causing you to look up at him “I have to go brush my teeth,” you reminded him as he groaned “nope,” Jamie shook his head sending you a grin in the process.
You furrowed your eyebrows “what do you mean no?” In all honesty you thought he was kidding “I love you and your smelly breath,” the hockey player confessed as it was now your turn to laugh.
You used to say that you were lucky he loved you.
But that made you think it was possibly the other way around tonight.
#jamie drysdale#jamie drysdale x y/n#jamie drysdale x reader#jamie drysdale x you#jamie drysdale imagine#jamie drysdale oneshot#hockey imagine#nhl imagine#nhl oneshot#hockey imagines#oneshots#imagines#amber writes fics
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Let Me Protect You - CSN
𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: at a time of chaos, and with you being almost deathly afraid of the dark and what it can bring, you find comfort in your husband. he holds you, kisses you, and unfortunately gets an erection in his loose sweats...
𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: san x fem!reader
𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: historical fiction; angst; fluff if you can squint; smut
𝘈𝘜/𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰: victorian au; married couple
𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.2 k
𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: marking, praise, mutual masturbation, slight overstimulation and edging (not on purpose), sideways position, breeding kink, b!gd!ck san kind of overwhelms reader, unprotected sex (they're married and consenting), aftercare implications, all fiction ofc ofc
𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: M for mature
𝘈/𝘕: previously i saw a man who said "women don't need to be protected ... we [men] need to stop attacking them." he has a point, but sometimes a woman crave to have a man 'protect' her from the things that she knows she can just put up with. she just wants to be dotted on sometimes. first submission to @wonderlandnet
the village was at war, it was commonplace by now. you knew very well that, when marrying a man who was born to be in battle, you were going to be a soldier's wife; yet you didn't care. it was either him or the arranged marriage your parents set you up with-- a bullet you're always thankful to have dodged.
despite the wars becoming very bloody, with your husband's team getting hit numerous times, san never seemed to get a scratch on him. he is his father's son, you thought as you'd watch the burly-slim-built man perform deadlifts behind your tent every afternoon. no wonder the king appointed him to be the head warrior of the team.
having grown up to hearing sounds of swords drawing, horses furiously neighing, men exclaiming before falling to the ground with a thud, and the hearty cheer of victory on your village's end, you were desensitized to anything and everything. well, almost everything.
every night you would be unfortunately forced to sleep by yourself in the head soldier's tent as san and his men patrolled the camp for any potential enemies. you had an oil lamp burning sweet incense along with melodies from your childhood to keep you company, so you didn't worry much. however, when rain or thunder would roar along the dead night sky, you'd scurry under your covers, very much disliking the loud sounds of nature.
after nearly thirty years of constant battle between the neighboring cities and squatter nations, the village king and the rival leaders signed a peace treaty, calling for no physical fights for up to one hundred years. this treaty was sealed in the thumbprint of their blood, making it a life oath for each affected city. once you heard the news, you were ecstatic. you missed your life back with family in the village, and, although you knew that you wouldn't be able to completely move back there as you and your husband have a house, you were just glad to be able to visit them more.
you and your husband quickly gathered your things and left the soon-to-be vacant camp to travel to the once-vacant house. when you got there and took a look around the area, you immediately went to working on reviving the currently dusty place. san, who was carrying most of the things, helped put them down wherever you said for them to go. once you cleaned and dusted and decorated the house, along with san restocking the food pantry and getting the cooking materials back in their place in their kitchen spots, you two were finally finished refurbishing the old place-- becoming almost brand new again.
with dinner being finished and the two of you talking about your future endeavors with civilization again, you decided to get ready for bed. being the ever-so-sweet gentleman he was taught to be, san held your hand and courted you to the freshly-scented room, the candlelight aiding to the dim ambiance of sleep that settled within yours and his minds.
when you took the first couple bath since your honeymoon, which consisted of san constantly praising you for being the best while washing your back and chest, you both got out and dried off before putting on your night clothes. sleeping on your side, your husband went right behind you, becoming the big spoon for you almost unintentionally. you just felt so warm, he honestly couldn't help himself. san then blew the candlelight out, making you a bit worried, but you thought nothing of it considering you no longer were going to need it.
and then it happened. thunder boomed out of nowhere, along with the sound of the trophy wolves san brought from battle barking furiously at the night. you tried not to jolt, you really did. but when the second booming of thunder came and went, along with the wolves changing their tune from barking to howling, you jerked out of san's slight grasp, finding retreat under the covers you previously washed.
san was awoken by your body leaving his, making him confused. he looked downwards to see if you were okay, and when he saw that you weren't, he asked, "what's wrong? are you scared?"
you did your best to calm yourself, shaking your head as your heart pounded heavily. "no, it's nothing. ill be fine if--" again another sound shook your core, except it was someone loudly shutting the lid of a huge trash bin outside as dogs were now barking and howling in tandem with their gray cousins.
your husband shook his head as he saw your trembling figure through the indent of the cotton, "dear, how long have you had the fear of loud noises?" san slowly traced his hands over the outline of your body before carefully pulling you from the covers and onto his arms, the sheet now covering you chest down instead of your entire self.
"i always hated loud noises at night, but especially from nature. i thought id be over it by now," you pushed your head onto san's neck, your hands finding purchase on his muscular chest as you struggled to breathe properly.
the man wrapped his right arm around your back, pulling you impossibly close to him. for a guy who claims that im always so warm, he feels like a campfire right now, you thought, but had nothing in you to speak out your thoughts as another loud bang from a nearby neighbor racked your senses.
"shh, shh. it's okay, sannie's here," he calmed you down as he felt tears start to stream from down your face to his clavicle. "oh, baby, i wish i knew sooner how the dark's terror made you feel. i would have gotten a different house away from here." your husband rubbed his hands over your back, slowly but surely calming you as your feeling of worry and danger turned to warmth and peace, all thoughts molding into the man who had you in his embrace.
you stopped crying after some time, simply resting your head against san's shoulders and breathing soundly. turning over to sleep in your previous position, you felt something stiff. experimenting with your bottom, you shifted backward a bit before bending forwards, which was met with a not-so-subtle groan. wanting to further test the waters, a third deep breath from the man was taken as your butt nudged against the much-uncomfortable hard-on from san. as you repositioned yourself, your husband reached out to grasp your waist, stopping you from your bottom leaving his crotch area.
"baby, what are you doing?" when you refused to answer, san simply pushed himself towards your backside, making you gasp as you were suddenly surged forward from the slight force of his movement, biting your lip as you remembered exactly who you were married to. "don't make me repeat myself."
not wanting to make him upset, you answered quite timidly, despite your previous confident actions, "i just wanted to play with you, that's all."
san hummed, chuckling a bit at your reply. "okay," he said, one of his hands pulling your night dress up to your waist. before you could think about it, san slithered his hand onto your clad cunt, cupping it with a gentle force that made you gasp. he always had a way of taking your breath away, flustering you befor you'd know it. "is it alright if i play with you?"
you mumbled the words 'yes' in-between heavy breaths, all thoughts now melting into the warmth that resided between your thighs as san began rubbing your wetness through your undergarments. "you're so wet for me, yet all i did was do what you did to me," san quipped. "i guess its only fair for how hard you made me." he continued moving his hand on your covered clit in circles, causing you to whimper lightly as the fabric became more sticky against your folds. "take your panties off," he commanded. you removed your underwear, tossing them to the floor as best as you could without leaving your spot on the bed. you felt your husband shuffle behind you until his hardened length met way to your thigh in all its bare glory.
turning around, you stopped san from doing anything more. when he pulled his head up to ask what the problem was, you asked with a small smile on your face, "can i help you out a little more while you help me?" without saying a word, san guided your hand to his length as his other hand went back to its previous place on your core. this only caused your smile to grow bigger. as soon as you started stroking him, which caused his member to become harder and bigger than it already was, san let out a guttural moan.
"gosh, you're so good," san grunted, pushing his hips slightly closer to you as his fingers now pressed inside you, curling his fingers to your spot. your mouth dropped open as you tried your best to concentrate on pleasuring him.
in no time at all, you could tell the man was getting even hornier as you began to climax from his motions. pausing for a moment to catch your breath, you grabbed san by the neck and passionately kissed him. he could only groan in your mouth as your walls furiously clenched on his fingers still inside of you as you were smearing his precum around his now burning head.
pulling away from you completely, your husband turned you around to how you were before, your bottom stuck out for his viewing pleasure. you whined from the loss as san your side for a while, tracing your body line down to the curve of your hip before slotting his hand between your thigh, slightly raising it. "ready?"
you smiled, nodding your head quickly as you stared at the soft linen of the matress.
smiling from behind you, yet you could feel it, san held himself to your slightly pulsating hole and slowly pushed his head in. you slightly jolted, but relaxed as you heard san's small praises of how fortunate he was to have you and how well you were taking so little of him. using the hand he was using earlier to push the start of him in, he then gripped the side of your ass before slowly thrusting the rest of himself in. you were whimpering from the tremendous stretch, his fingers seeming to not prepare for what you haven't had since he was called to serve.
wrapping his arms around you again, san wiped away the stray tears-- wait, you were crying?-- he knows you were shedding. "i know, i know dear." he soothed you, helping you to untense for both you and his sakes. you because you were obviously overwhelmed from the size of your husband, and san because your tightness almost made him orgasm like a prepubescent teen. getting himself together for you, san held onto you sides as he did his best to pepper kisses on your face. "let me love you, now." when you finally started to, you sighed in content as you pulled his hand up to kiss.
"thank you, sannie."
kissing your cheek in return, he held his place inside you and slowly began to pump into you; just the amount of speed needed to calm downyour shaking. your sighing from discomfort soon turned to moaning from pleasure. feeling the bliss of your husband's length in you, you jutted your hips back more, allowing the view of your ass be a signal that you were definitely feeling good right now. feeling encouraged, san sped up, driving himself deeper into you. his fingers dug into your inner thigh as his motions grew rougher and more passionate.
"fuck, sannie. im about to cum," you breathed out, feeling so close yet so far to your release.
putting his freer hand to your clit, he rubbed it in circular motions, high pitch whines coming out of you in return. "cum for me, my love. make a big, filthy mess on my cock. can't wait to always have you like this until you can barely think without having my cum in you."
your moans grew louder as your thoughts began to change to ones of having your stomach filled to the brim of san's love.
with one harsh thrust into you, your release hit your core, a splattering sensation running down your leg as he kept fucking into you. despite becoming quickly overstimulated, you didn't dare stop san from using you to his completion. "please, sannie," you cried, doing the best you can to get him closer through clenching. "please cum inside me. i need it to feel warm."
the image of his imprint leaking out of you flashed through his mind, quickly causing him to snap. with a tight squeeze at his enlarged length, he let out a grunt before he unloaded his seed into you, moaning in pleasure and relief as he did so. his thrusts grew shorter as he came less and less, holding onto you and kissing all over the parts of your face and neck he could reach. "i hope that wasn't too... intense for you," he apologized once his heart rate settled down.
you turned your head to san before slowly pulling yourself out of him with a hiss, looking at him as your hole pulsed in an attempt to return to its previous size. "'too intense?'" you quoted him. "why would it be?" your hand was gently touching your husband's face as he kissed it anytime it reached his lips. "it felt amazing." san, feeling assured by your words, leaned in to give you a tender kiss on the lips.
"im happy that you feel safe with me," san yawned after hesitantly pulling back, stretching before wrapping his arms around your waist as your aftershocks were coming down to an end. "i love you."
smiling at him and kissing his lips once more, you replied back to him. "i love you, and im always safe with you."
this is my first san fic. crazy right? and it only took one dance performance to awaken something in me. oh, the photo in the middle with the moon? i took that picture two weeks ago after getting off work.
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u said leoichi drabble prompt request. consider. one injured and the other protecting them and then the injured one has to calm them down bc 'they're okay, really, promise, rest now'
OKAY SO this fused with a ghost of an idea I've had for a while and it ended up being a bit more serious than the prompt called for and a lot longer than just a drabble. (It's ~1120 words.) CW: blood and injury
Also I made a silly header thing I don't know what to do with, so I'm putting it here since this fic doesn't come with art of its own :'3
“Yui, I’m okay–”
The rabbit turns his head to look at him, furious.
“I heard your shell crack, Leonardo, and I'm not an idiot! Now stay down and let me handle this!”
He falls quiet for a moment before redirecting his glare towards their adversary and then adds a muted, “Please.”
There's no compromising with Yuichi in this state, apparently, and Leonardo stays right where he got crushed between metal claws and the concrete, splayed on the ground next to those very same claws which had gotten swiftly cut from the wrist for their transgressions.
He does roll onto his side to get his body weight off his shell, and yeah, alright, one or more of the old cracks that never healed properly must have split open again. It's tough to breathe and his back feels… His kimono is sticking to his shell and his back feels wet now that he's paying attention, and that. That is not good.
Just his luck to run into a massive mecha wreaking havoc on an otherwise lovely day, huh. He wasn't even supposed to be on patrol and thus is embarrassingly swordless.
Good thing that his date and their resident samurai always carries his.
The slider watches as Yuichi does quick work of the metal hunk's wiring behind its knees, his frighteningly sharp katana slicing through the cables like butter. The mech falls with a ground-shaking rumble, unable to rise again, arm flailing as it tries to catch the rabbit. It's no use, Yuichi is much smaller and faster – and as soon as he reaches the mech's head, it's already rolling. The construct immediately loses power and Yuichi wrenches the windowed hatch in its chest open. Turns out there's no pilot, just a program-operated dashboard, and he makes sure that none of the controls are functional after he's done with them.
Leonardo thinks he could watch Yuichi trash villains all day long, he's practically mesmerised by the strength hidden in that soft frame despite his shell throbbing unpleasantly in tandem with his heartbeat. He sighs, lovestruck.
As his final move, Yuichi thrusts his katana into the heart of the mecha and Leonardo sees a spray of ink-black oil splash all over Yuichi's face and the front of his kimono. It makes him laugh and he realises his mistake too late, his lungs struggling to draw breath again as he finally gets hit with the pain, his body trying to stop him from moving; from causing any more damage. Shit, shit, shit.
He had hoped he wouldn’t need to bother any of his brothers today since he was supposed to spend the whole day with Yuichi but he knows to pick his battles, now. He opens the comm link embedded in his prosthetic, contacting someone who he knows will pick up.
“Che~ello!” comes the cheerful answer in just a few seconds, and Leonardo can't help but smile.
“Mikeyyy, hermano, I'm in a bit of a pickle,” he wheezes, feeling the shift in his little brother's energy as soon as he hears the strain in his voice.
“Leo? Are you okay?”
“Not really, no,” Leonardo grunts. “Got into a scuffle with some big haywire robot– don’t worry, that’s taken care of. I suspect Donnie will want to scrap it for parts. Um. My shell’s– my shell’s cracked though.”
Leonardo can vividly imagine the colour draining from Michelangelo's face and it would be funny if he wasn't acutely aware of a broken shell coming with the very real possibility of his innards turning into outnards.
“I'm calling Draxy. Stay put, I'll get Lee to pick you up.”
“Right,” Leonardo sighs, the line going out just when Yuichi is finally done with the mech and rushing to his side, face haphazardly wiped from oil. His gaze is sharp as he kneels next to him, sweaty and out of breath, and Leonardo thinks he looks like a knight. Or maybe like a samurai of the old, in this case.
“There’s my hero,” he coos before Yuichi can get a word out and the rabbit’s brow furrows.
“Don’t start,” he snaps but his tone softens almost immediately, “I saw you calling someone. It’s bad, isn’t it? It… it looks really bad.”
“Yeeeah, this kimono is definitely ruined,” Leonardo laments, “unless you know how to, gh, get blood out of corduroy? No? Or the obi?”
Yuichi stares.
“A– a shame, really, I did like this one a lot–”
“Leonardo!” Yuichi interrupts him and grabs his bicep, looking two seconds away from crying. Leonardo frowns. He knows he’s getting a little delirious but he was sincerely trying his best to lift his mate’s mood.
“Leon, please, you’re rambling. Is someone coming? Can I do anything?”
“‘m not rambling,” Leonardo grumbles, hissing when he fills his lungs again. “Leo’s coming to get us, Draxy– Draxum will treat the shell. And no, better keep the obi in place until we get to the medbay.”
Yuichi’s shoulders slump and he sighs, most likely relieved that he’s not going to have to figure out how to deal with a cracked shell. Leonardo does not like the lingering worry in Yuichi’s gaze one bit, though, and he offers him a grin. It’s a little shaky but whatever.
“Heeey, bunbun. Listen. This is nothing I haven’t been through before. I’ll be fine.”
Yuichi gives him an honest-to-God kicked-puppy look and Leonardo thinks it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen in his life. He almost tells him so but Yuichi cups his cheek and his forced grin melts away into surprised silence.
“I hate seeing you hurt,” Yuichi murmurs, leaning down to press his forehead against Leonardo’s. The slider’s eyes flutter shut and he lifts his hand to hold onto Yuichi’s wrist.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I mean it. I should’ve been more careful.”
Yuichi huffs and leans away to gently bump their foreheads together.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe, but ’m still sorry. Didn’t want to worry you.”
“You’re an idiot,” Yuichi says, exasperated. “You should know that at this point, I’ll always worry.”
Leonardo grins and this time it’s genuine. Breathing in his partner’s scent is like a balm to him, even if it’s tinged with the bitterness of motor oil, even if his body currently thinks that breathing is overrated. Even if he just got called an idiot by none other than said partner.
“Raincheck on the date?” he mumbles, and finally he gets a chuckle out of the rabbit. Yuichi straightens his back and flicks him on the nose.
“Like you even needed to ask. Idiot.”
Before Leonardo can express his displeasure of being called an idiot for a second time there’s the familiar electric hum of a portal opening behind him, and someone whistles.
“Sheesh, old man. That kimono is definitely ruined.”
#NOT PROOFREAD I had to stop myself because every time I tried to check this over I kept writing MORE and that's just not sustainable#sdfghhsfghjafsfd#anyway these peepaws gay#rottmnt#rottmnt fanart#rottmnt fanfiction#leoichi#peepaw leo#peepaw yuichi#other characters mentioned + a cameo from#rise leo#future leonardo#future leo#samurai rabbit#usagi chronicles#yuichi usagi#usagi yuichi#tervdraws#tervdrabbles
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Could you please pleasepleaseplease p l e a s e continue the halfa cass post? I'm dying for some more of it, it's SO GOOD
The first thing Cass notices about the Fentons is how utterly silly they are. She had been expecting a group of far more regal people, especially with the castle they lived in and being protected by Phantom.
She still doesn't really understand what's going on, but she can piece together that Phantom is in charge. The people who had stopped to stare at her all whispered about the King, and she could tell that a few of them gained helpless hope by the mere sight of her.
If they were truly trapped here, then her appearance meant there was a chance of escaping.
But were they trapped because of Phantom? Dan mentioned the Fae's costumes of tricking humans into signing slavery contracts with a feast. Had Phantom done the same?
"Maddie!" Dan yells at the top of his lungs, floating towards the draw bridge. "Maddie, I think you want to look at this!"
"What is it, sweetie?" A woman calls back, quickly followed by an explosion in the left tower. Cass stiffens as the window of the tower is flung open, and a woman in an overalls sticks out her head. Behind her, black smoke rises. "I was just making headway in the latest Fenton Escaper!"
"Really? How's that going?"
"It exploded! There is nothing left!" She beams, pulling her oversized goggles off her head. They leave a black outline around her eyes. .
Dan's body language doesn't show his surprise at her failure. In fact he seems oddly amused. It must be a common thing."I supposed that's good?"
"Oh, it's wonderful! Jake is going to be so happy that it reacted quickly to the new element!" The woman chirps. "He's out with Danny, gathering some more supplies for our people."
"They went hunting without me?"
"You know you're grounded, young man."
Wait, was this woman Dan's mother? Could the dead have parents? Or was it more of an adoption relationship?
"Yeah, Yeah, I know. Anyway, Maddie, I wanted to introduce you to the new arrival-"
"You brought a girl home!" Maddie cuts him off, flinging herself out the window. Cass would have rushed to her aid were it not for her apparent control as she spun into a landing. "Hello there! I'm Maddie Fenton! Dan's mother from another timeline, welcome to the family!"
Cass could tell she was going for a hug before the hug arrived, but she was still somewhat surprised by how forward Maddie was. Oddly friendly in a way no one in Gotham dared to be. Unless they were crazy like Harely. She can only blink as the woman wraps her up in an embrace, her muscles belying her small frame.
A fighter. A rather skilled one at that.
"I was so worried Dan would never find a partner!"
"Maddie! She's not my girlfriend!" Dan hisses, "She's a kid!"
"I'm twenty-one" Cass corrects
"A baby," Dan insists.
"Oh, that's a shame. She's gorgeous- from what I can see with the mask. The grandchildren would have been beautiful." Maddie sighs, letting her go. Then, it seems the woman noticed her features for the first time because she looked startled. "Are you a living human?"
"Worst. She's a halfa," Dan responds. Maddie's upper body goes rigid, and Cass can see thousands of emotions go through her—shock, denial, awe, wonder, glee, despair—to name a few—before she settles on one.
Glee.
"Jazz! Dani! Come here!" She screams, and Cass only has a few seconds to step away from Maddie's sudden craze before another glowing blur speeds towards them.
It's a younger version of Dan but female. She stops just short of ramming into Dan with a giggle. "Made you flinch!"
"You did not."
"Did, too." The girl, nineteen maybe, insists but twists to Maddie while speaking. It doesn't seem like she thinks about whether she is correct. Cass wondered if she should say that Dan really did not flinch. Besides his hair swaying slightly by the gust of wind she created, he hadn't moved from his crossed-arm position. "Who's this?"
"A new Halfa!" Maddie cheers.
The girl's friendly demeanor crumbles into horror. "What?"
"I know- isn't this exciting?"
"No, Mom, it means she died." Yet another voice sighs. "What did we say about our science?"
"Not to let it overpower my morals and to be tactful of other feelings." Maddie quotes with an eye roll, though Cass can tell she's not bothered by the reminder. Strutting from the castle draw bridge, the only one that uses it is a beautiful woman clad in a purple sleeveless dress.
She moves with the confidence and elegance Cass had expected of a Queen. It's when she stands next to Maddie that it becomes clear they are mother and daughter- almost all her features are a copy of Maddie. "Hello there. I'm Jazz Fenton. I heard you've been through a horrible ordeal. I'm very sorry for your loss of life."
Cass blinks at her, then shrugs. She isn't sure if she is grateful that Damian's ninja mask is still across her face, keeping her amusement hidden.
Jazz smiles even wider. "Welcome to Phantom's Keep. We welcome you inside."
Hmmm, well, no, Cass did not like how she said that. Sounded a little too Fae-like for her taste.
Jazz isn't aware of her unease as she gestures to the castle. "We have some questions on how you arrived. See, Dan and I thought you had died and placed you in the sector for new ghosts. Dan was supposed to greet you and get you settled. But your new status changes everything."
Was Jazz....Phantom?
If so, Cass needed to be careful how she continued interacting with the woman. She didn't want to get stuck here for seven years, either. She had a family she was going to get back to.
__________________________________________________________
"Where is Cass? She hasn't checked in for days," Bruce asks his children, looking over everyone's logs. Her last entry was twenty-four days ago, a short "Investigating Amity Park—pending field report" blinking on his screen.
"I'll ask Raven." Damian volunteered. "She should be able to give more insight into Cass' mission."
"Thank you, son."
Bruce hoped the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach was just untreated paranoia like his children liked to claim and not that something had happened to his daughter. He never liked it when his gut feelings were right.
They were never a good reason.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#Cass the Halfa#Part 3#Time moves oddly in the Ghost zone#Cass meets the Fentons and went “Jazz seems the most sane”#Dan and Dani are siblings
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