#didn’t mean for this to turn into a whole thing oops | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lightsoutletsgo · 2 months

Text

the one where ollie lives alone (cl.16 x bearman!reader)

pairing: mainly ollie bearman x oldersister!reader for this part but there's a plenty of charles leclerc x bearman!reader here and there!

word count: 4.2k

warnings: a whole lot of stupidity mentions of death, seemingly angsty in some parts (you'll see what I mean) this might be one of my favourite parts I've written for any series ever 😭 it's so dumb but so funny (according to the people who proofread for me!) as always let me know what you think! your comments are always appreciated. happy reading! mimi 🤍

taglist: @arieslost @iamapersonwholikesunicorns

“Jesus Y/N, what the hell is in here?” Ollie wheezed as he staggered past you, arms straining under the weight of the box he was carrying. You rolled your eyes, “You’re so dramatic Ols, it’s literally just makeup.”

“Is that the last box ma belle?” You turned and saw Charles in the doorway, staring at you fondly. “Mhmm! Everything else is in the van.” You held your arms out to him and he crossed the room, pulling you in by your waist and kissing you softly, “I can’t believe you’re finally coming home with me…” You smiled, looping your arms round his neck, “Me either,” He booped your nose with his own, a loud cough making the two of you jump apart as Ollie leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised, “Are you two done being gross?” “Shut up dummy.” You punched his arm as you walked past him towards the front door. You inhaled deeply, it felt strange but exciting to be moving out and into Charles’ apartment.

Behind you, Charles watched Ollie stare at you, looking like he wanted to say something. He quietly padded up behind the younger driver and nudged his arm, “Are you going to miss her?” Ollie was startled but quickly scoffed, “Hmm? No way!” Charles gave him a pointed look, “I get the whole place to myself! I can’t wait!” Charles gave him a smile and punched his arm gently, “We’re only ten minutes away if you need us.” Ollie laughed, “Thanks but I can manage!”

♯ incident 1 - the dishwasher ⊹.∿ As it turned out, Ollie could in fact, not manage. Mere hours after you’d left him, you found yourself sprinting back up the stairs, cursing the old apartment building for still not having an elevator. You reached the floor of your old apartment and checked the door to see if it was open, turning the handle and entering you called out, “Ollie? I got your text!” You poked your head into each room as you went, searching for him, “What’s the emer…gen…cy…” You trailed off as you reached the kitchen, Ollie staring up at you with wide eyes, crouching next to the dishwasher that was… pouring out soapy bubbles? “Ollie!” “I think I made a mistake.” He said dryly, suspiciously poking some of the bubbly foam next to his shoulder, “Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” You said sarcastically, thinking of a solution, “You put dish soap in didn’t you?” He nodded sheepishly, “There were no dishwasher tablets left so I just… thought on my feet?” You facepalmed and sighed, “Okay well, we need to- DON’T OPEN IT!”

You looked on in horror as Ollie pulled open the door and a torrent of soapy warm foam spilled out and all over the kitchen floor, creeping further into the centre of the room, was it… growing? You looked over at your brother to see him staring back at you with comically wide eyes. “So that’s why we don’t do that.” You said, face deadpan. Ollie giggled nervously, “Oops?” A snort from behind you had you turning round to see Charles filming the whole thing, “Oh some help you are babe.” Charles coughed to cover up his laughter as he put his phone away and entered the foamy bubbly monstrosity that was now the kitchen. “Somewhere under here there’s a bucket and mop.” “Ollie?” “Yeah?” “You’re going in.”

♯ incident 2 - french toast ⊹.∿ A few days had passed since the dishwasher incident and you dozed in Charles’ arms, enjoying the lazy Sunday morning sun slipping through the bedroom curtains. The previous night’s activities had left you a little worn out and with no plans for the day, you had wordlessly agreed that a cosy day in bed was just what you needed. A shrill sound pierced the air and jolted both you and Charles awake. You scrambled to find your phone, as Charles groaned, hands rubbing his face as your hand came up to feel how quickly your heart was pounding. You glanced at the screen as your hand met your phone and you scowled, Charles rubbing your back and doing his best not to laugh as he saw who was calling you, “Ollie Bearman, you better have a damn good reason for calling me this early on a Sunday morning.” There was a pause, “It’s eleven o’clock?-” “That’s not the point!” You sighed, “What do you need?” “Well, you see… I have a question.” “Go ahead,” “So I was making french toast right? And I followed the recipe exactly as you wrote it out! Right amount of eggs, milk and sugar.” “So what’s the issue?” Ollie sighed, “It won’t cook but it smells a bit smokey…” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Then turn it down?” “I don’t know how!” “Turn the hob dial down dummy!” Ollie went silent for a second, “Did you say hob dial?” Alarm bells started ringing in your head, “Why would I adjust the hob when I’m using the toaster.” You froze for a moment before pulling your phone away from your ear and putting it on speaker, unable to believe what you were hearing, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Charles gave you a concerned look, sitting even closer to you and wrapping one arm around you while the other rubbed your knee comfortingly

“I said, I’m using the toaster.” You stared at your phone, mouth slightly agape, “You’re making french toast in the toaster?” “Correct.” Charles snorted and choked back a huge guffaw of laughter as the hand he’d placed on your knee came up to cover his mouth, his face turning pink with how hard he was laughing, “Ollie! French toast isn’t made in the toaster!” “It’s called french toast!” You pressed the video button and changed the call to facetime. Your brother stared back at you, looking rather dishevelled, “That’s a rather deceiving name if you ask me!” You groaned, facepalming, “You make it in a frying pan” Charles was no help next to you as he wheezed silently, grabbing his own phone to record the conversation for later use and hilarity. “Well how was I supposed to know that?!” Ollie was indignant as he pleaded with you through the screen, “OLLIE! You’ve watched me make it hundreds of times!” He pouted through the screen letting out a little ‘hmmph’ “Well if you hadn’t abandoned me, we wouldn’t have this issue would we!” You rolled your eyes, “For the last time, I did not abandon you! I live a 10 minute walk away!”

You sighed before laughing at your brother lovingly, “Alright then silly, head over for lunch and I’ll show you how to make french toast the proper way.” Charles snorted once more and you both burst into giggles as your brother scowled at you, “Stop laughing at me!” Ollie whined, you caught your breath and wiped your eyes, heart warm at the silly moment you knew would turn into a fond memory, “Uhhhh Y/N?” You looked back at the screen to where Ollie was turning the camera round to show you a sparking, smoking toaster, “I don’t think it should be doing that…” You cursed as Charles scrambled out of bed, pulling mismatching socks on as you grabbed a hoodie, “Change of plans Ols, we’re on our way!”

♯ incident 3 - Gerald ⊹.∿ Things were peaceful for a couple of days after the french toast debacle - something you were more than thankful for, wrapped up in your perfect little bubble with Charles. Of course you continued to text Ollie, but there had been no major crisis that required your immediate attention. Until there was.

It had been one of those long lazy days spent at home, until Charles had announced he was taking you to dinner and told you to get all dressed up. You’d slipped on one of his favourite numbers and he’d shown his appreciation more than once, sliding his hands round your hips and squeezing while you waited to be seated, pulling your chair out for you to sit down and sliding his hands down your arms once you were seated, moving his chair round the table to sit closer to you so he could place a slow smooch against your neck. You hummed happily as he fed you a mouthful of his dish, “I knew you’d like it!” You smiled at him, “I like most things you suggest…” He bit his lip as his eyes darkened slightly, “Is that so?” You nodded, eyelashes fluttering as your lids close, “What if I suggested something a little… more intimate?” You giggled, picking up your wine glass to take a sip and hide your face, too shy to keep the eye contact, “I wouldn’t mi-” Your phone blaring cut you off and you gasped, rushing to put your glass down as other customers in the restaurant glared at you, Charles chuckling quietly next to you, his hand resting on your thigh and rubbing soothingly.

“Ollie I swear to go-” “He’s dead.” You heard your little brother sniffle and adrenaline kicked in, “Ollie, who’s dead?” You kept your voice as calm and quiet as possible, you heard him sniffle once more before a sob left his mouth. That was all you needed to hear before you were grabbing your clutch and nodding towards the door. Charles tilted his head and you mouthed your brother’s name. He nodded understandingly and rushed to pay the bill before you were both scurrying back to his car. As soon as you were buckled in you put your phone on speaker, “Ollie… Honey… what happened?” Charles also looked panicked as he heard Ollie’s choked sob, “He was fine and then he just… wasn’t.” “Who Ollie, who’s not fine?” You pleaded, “Ge-” You cursed as the call cut out, “It’s okay ma belle, his phone probably just died, we’re almost there okay?” You nodded, hands nervously twisting and wringing together in your lap. Charles eyes darted to your hands for a second before looking back at the road, one hand leaving the steering wheel to gently hold your hand in his. You looked at him and squeezed, a wordless thank you.

As soon as Charles pulled up, you were racing out of the car, slipping your heels off and carrying them in your hand as you sprinted barefoot up the stairs of the apartment building. You reached the door and rang the bell, knocked, called his name, anything you could think of to attract his attention. The door opened slowly and it wasn’t Ollie that appeared but Arthuer Leclerc, looking ever so sombre, “Arthur?” Your eyes were panicked as you looked him over for any injuries or obvious isses. He simply held his hand out to indicate to you to enter and you slowly stepped through the door, “Where’s Ollie?” Arthur nodded, head down towards the ground and the panic rose in your chest again, “He’s in the living room, saying his goodbyes.” “Goodbyes to who?” You paced down the hallway and burst into the living room, your jaw dropping at the sight you saw.

Ollie stood in front of the coffee table that was lit with candles, dressed in a suit and your brain suddenly registered that Arthur had been dressed the same way. You were even more concerned when you saw Arthur’s girlfriend fully dressed in black, standing next to Ollie with a comforting hand on his shoulder. You approached him slowly, arms opening and your expression softening as he turned to you with a red splotchy nose and red-rimmed eyes, he fell into your arms and you patted his back, gently shushing him, “What happened, Ols?” “He’s gone.” Ollie croaked out, “Who’s gone honey?” Your voice was gentle as you stroked his hair, the same way you did when he was younger and couldn’t sleep, “Gerald.” “Oh.” You said softly, “Was he a friend?” Ollie nodded and you held back a wince as he rubbed his snotty nose onto your shoulder, knowing he needed you, “He was such a good friend.” You led him over to the couch and sat down, his head falling onto your shoulder as you continued to play with his hair.

You were aware of Charles appearing in the doorway and you gave him a brief smile, before turning your attention back to Ollie, “Would I know this friend?” Ollie nodded, his sobs quieting to sniffles, “You were his friend before I was.” Your stomach dropped as you frantically thought of who Ollie could possibly be referring to, feeling guilty that your mind was blank, “The funeral was lovely.” Arthur’s girlfriend nodded solemnly, a hand over her heart as the other hand came up to dab her eyes with a tissue, “The funeral has already happened?” You were confused as Arthur nodded, “Just before you got here.” Your eyes shot to Charles who was just as concerned and confused as you, “Wait, the funeral was here?” Ollie scoffed, “Well where else would it have been?” “Wait Ollie,” You held his face in front of yours, “Why was the funeral in your apartment?” “He wanted to be remembered in the place he was most happy…” Ollie sighed wistfully, his head turning to look at the coffee table once more.

You squinted, focusing on a shape amidst the flickering candles and once more your mouth gaped as you stood up and stormed over to the other side of the room. “Ollie. Bearman.” You gritted your teeth, “Don’t tell me that this was all about a fucking cactus?” “Succulent!” Ollie snapped at you, wiping away a tear from under his eye, “He was a succulent,” He whispered as he looked down at the floor. Charles broke first, snorting in the doorway and you watched as he did his best to choke down his laughter, coughing and shaking his head, you watched as he excused himself from the room for a moment to force a solemn expression back onto his face. He returned but you could see the laughter threatening to bubble over as he took in the sight before him. Ollie, his younger brother and his younger brother’s girlfriend all dressed in black and in mourning for a succulent that sat sadly on the coffee table and looked like it had been watered a little too much.

“I’m glad you got here,” Arthur spoke up suddenly, “Oh goodie, do tell me why.” Your tone was sarcastic. “We’re about to do the funeral exit.” Charles was holding in his laughter so much that he now had tears streaming down his face and Arthur patted his back with a ‘there, there’ and handed him a tissue. “Arthur’s girlfriend has agreed to sing the exit song and we’re so thankful she has.” “Who is we Ollie?” You brow furrowed as you looked around the living room, “I-I…” You sighed. “Go ahead.” You all stood still, heads to the floor as Arthur’s girlfriend launched into a rendition of ‘Memory’ from Cats, “Miiiiiiidniiiiiight, not a sound from the paaaaavemeeeent.” Charles quietly crossed the room to stand next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder, “Interesting date night hmm?” You growled, “Don’t you dare encourage him.” Ollie approached you, “Do you want to say your final goodbyes?” “Ollie, why would I care about a succulent?” He gasped, “It’s Gerald!” “Yes Ollie so you said, but why would I care that it’s name is Gerald?” Ollie shook his head, “Don’t even recognise your own friend…” Arthur tutted and even his girlfriend gave you a disapproving look as she continued wailing in the background, you mentally made a note to apologise to the neighbours the next time you were here during normal sociable hours.

You rolled your eyes at your younger brother and stepped forward to ‘pay your respects’ to the succulent. Your eyes narrowed, “Oliver. James. Bearman. That’s MY fucking succulent!” “It was nice of you to wear black.” He continued, nodding towards your dress and Charles blazer and pants, ignoring your exclamation. “We were on a date!” You screeched, Charles once again powerless to help in any way, instead just collapsing with laughter. You growled as you lunged for your brother, “Ollie, I swear there will be a funeral tonight.” You hissed, “Yours!”

♯ incident 4 - spiderman ⊹.∿ After everyone had said their goodbyes to Gerald, he had been unceremoniously dumped into the rubbish bin and that had been the end of it. Ollie had promised to buy you a new succulent and had learned that they did not, in fact, require watering every day, and you now forever had ‘Memory’ stuck in your head. Once more, peace had been restored but you doubted it would last much longer.

Your theory was proved correct when a few days later, your phone rang. An unknown number. You ignored it at first, all too aware of strange reporters and crazy fans who would do anything to get closer to Charles. You simply went back to reading your book, until your phone rang again. It was an unknown number still and you grumbled, rolling your eyes and answering quite snappily, “Yes? Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line seemed almost taken aback, “Umm excuse me is this Y/N Bearman?” You sighed, “Yes it is, no I won’t give you a quote and yes Charles is great in bed, goodbye!-” “No wait please! I’m from downstairs! You live in 10B yes?” You stopped as your finger hovered over the end call button and brought the phone back up to your ear, “Uhhhh I used to, yes, can I ask why?” “Oh, well there’s a man trying to climb onto your balcony and I was concerned that’s all.” Your stomach flipped, your mind rushing to thoughts of someone breaking in when your little brother was home alone, “I’ll come over now! My younger brother still lives there.” You raced to grab your keys and jumped into your car, deciding to get there as soon as possible rather than walk. Who was stupid enough to break in in broad daylight? You briefly considered calling the police but you were sure the idiot would be gone by the time you got there. Your car pulled up and you craned your neck to look up at the balcony of your old apartment. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted that there was indeed a man hanging off of your balcony, “Holy shit,” You mumbled, scrabbling to open the door and race towards the apartment complex. The closer you got you squinted as you realised the hoodie looked ever so familiar. “Ollie?!” You yelled up and shrieked as your brother looked down at you, giggling nervously as his feet kicked back and forth as he desperately searched for a footing, “What the fuck are you doing?” “Uhhh I can explain!” He yelled back to you, “H-hold on, I’m on my way up!” You hurried up the stairs, once more cursing the lack of elevator as you finally reached your floor, unlocking the door and rushing through the apartment to french doors out onto the balcony.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” You screeched, leaning over the balcony and diving to grab him and pull him up, “Ollie that’s so fucking dangerous!” “Look!” You heard a kid shout from the street below, “It’s Spiderman!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "He wishes!" You paused for a moment to yell back, before resuming hauling your brother over the apartment balcony. “How did you even get up here? Why are you up here?” Ollie chuckled, panting slightly as he finally threw one leg over the ledge, “Funny story actually…” You raised an eyebrow, “Well please share,” “I forgot my key…” “I-” In your shock you almost let go of him and his scream attracted the attention of yet more passers by below, laughing and pointing at the odd sight they were witnessing. You smiled down awkwardly before turning back to Ollie once more, “Why didn’t you call me?” Ollie whined as you began to tell him off, “Because I didn’t want you to find out…” “Oh so this was a better idea- Ah!” You squeaked as Ollie tumbled over the ledge and onto the balcony. Landing on your stomach in a tangle of limbs, “Your foot is up my butt!” “Yeah well it wouldn’t be if you hadn’t been being stupid! Anyway, get your elbow out of my eye!” “Oh I’m sorry, I was making sure I wasn’t about to fall to my death!” You shoved Ollie off of you and led there on your back, panting, Ollie much the same,

“For the record, you are the shittiest spiderman there is.” “Thanks, that’s really boosting my confidence.” “Glad I could help.”

♯ the resolution ⊹.∿ “We need more protection.” You announced loudly, stepping into the kitchen “Excuse me?!” Charles choked on his protein shake, cheeks turning pink and you heard Max snort on the phone, “God, no! You pervs… I meant like, we need protection from Ollie and his dumbass incidents.” Max cackled, “Charles has sent me the videos, I was dying at the dishwasher incident.” You groaned, crossing the room to stand next to Charles who sat at the breakfast bar. He grinned as you rolled your eyes at Max who you could now see was on facetime. “Yeah, well I’m turning grey way sooner than I should!” You joked. You chatted with Max a little longer before Charles signed off with the promise of joining him to game later.

You sighed, leaning against Charles’ side, “What’s wrong ma belle?” You took another breath and paused, “I’m just… worried about Ollie…” Charles put his arm around you and rubbed your back soothingly, “What has you so worried mon amour?” His expression was warm and you knew he wasn’t angry with you, rather genuinely curious, “I just feel like… maybe he isn’t ready to live on his own yet?” Charles nodded at you and you took that as a signal to continue, “I mean, he’s always had me there to help him and I know someday he’s gonna have to get used to me not being there but I just feel like right now…” You trailed off with a sigh, “He still needs you.” Charles finished and you gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “But, I don’t wanna leave you. I love living with you and having you around and I love just... living life with you. Am I selfish for not wanting to give that up?” You bit your lip, moving away from Charles to pace the kitchen floor. Charles shook his head with a fond smile,

“Ma belle… You’re not selfish for wanting to do something for yourself and I’m proud of you for wanting to pursue that, especially since it’s me you want,” he slid his arms around you as you stepped next to him and dragged you backwards to him, making you giggle, “but I also know that you want to be there for family and I can understand that, you guys are close, the same way that me and Thur are, probably even closer.” You hummed, leaning back against him, “Thank you for being so understanding.” You sighed, “Now I just need to work out how to fix it…” Charles smiled and turned you round in his arms, nudging your nose with his, “Well… we have a spare room?”

Which is how you found yourself hauling boxes upstairs a week later, “Jesus Ollie, what the hell is in here?” You wheezed out and Ollie simply smiled at you, patting you on the head as he walked past you, arms empty, “You’re so dramatic Y/N, it’s literally just a few bits.” You poked your tongue out at him as he mimicked your words from just a couple of months ago. “Is that it mate?” Charles head appeared from behind the apartment door and Ollie nodded, as you finally conquered the stairs and planted the box down on the hallway floor. “Now let’s go over the rules one more time Ols.” He sighed, “Fine…” “Rule one?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, “No dish soap in the dishwasher…” He grumbled, Charles chuckled, “Rule two?” “No cooking without supervision.” Ollie recited as you nodded, “Don’t worry, that rule applies to Charles too.” “Huh?!” “Shush baby, rule three?” You turned back to Ollie, “No watering the succulents unless instructed, no matter how sorry I feel for them.” You nodded, “I am not having a repeat of Gerald and the… funeral.” You shuddered, as Charles snorted before asking, “Rule four?” “Always call one of you two if I forget my keys…” “And?” You raised an eyebrow, “No climbing balconies under any circumstances.” You clapped your hands together and smiled, “Good! Well I can’t think of anything else, can you?”

You turned to Charles who shook his head and Ollie who just shrugged, “In that case, let’s go! Pizza for dinner sound good?” The three of you walked into the apartment and the door to the hallway swung shut, your arguments about pizza toppings muffled through the door, but the happiness and love you felt for each other not dulled in the slightest.

#mimi.writes #bear hugs series ˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚#f1 fic #f1 series #f1 fluff #f1 crack #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic

1K notes · View notes

phantomrose96 · 24 days

Text

Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 2

(Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 1)

Chapter 2, because @ciestess voiced an idea that absolutely consumed my entire mind and I could not rest until I made this

...

Danny’s eyes tracked the swing of gunfire raining bullets across the horizon. Tucker reloaded, crouched, dodged left and pivoted, another blast of bullet confetti launched through a gaggle of zombie heads. He tossed the magazine and reloaded. Click. Ching. Danny flinched when a zombie smashed a hammer clean through Tucker’s head.

“God. Fucking…” Tucker pulled out of his hunch. He unclamped his fingers from his controller like bug legs unfurling. He extended the controller to Danny, bouncing it in his grip. “Your turn.”

“Huh?” Danny asked, as if he hadn’t been watching Tucker’s game the whole time.

“You. You’re up. I died.”

Danny accepted the controller, reloaded the screen, and jogged about a hundred feet forward before the first horde of zombies took him out football-style from the left. The death screen rolled.

“Oops,” Danny said.

“Not your best work.” And Tucker took the controller back. Tucker shot a few spare glances to Danny while the level restart loaded in. “Is it Vlad?”

“No. Well, yes,” Danny answered, flopping back into his normal position on the Foley attic armchair. Tucker’s mom had planned to toss it ages ago, before it became Danny’s chair. “But at least he left when my parents went all zombie mode into the basement.” Danny picked absently at the scabs of leather flaking from the armrest. “It was just weird.”

“I don’t mean this as an insult, but it’s definitely not the first time your dad’s gotten some math wrong,” Tucker said. “He blows up like three things a week doesn’t he?”

“He does. But he doesn’t care when he gets that math wrong. This one was like I broke something important.” Danny’s expression soured, and he picked a leather flake clean off the chair. “Vlad did, I mean.”

“Does any of the math actually work?” Sam offered from Tucker’s desk. She leaned an elbow around the back of his chair, head tilted to Danny. A pencil dangled from her loose fingers, nib-half worn to the History of an Invention report she was actually working on. Tucker had half-assed his earlier in the day about the palm pilot. Danny had not done his. “Like, it’s all crackpot theory, right? Do ghosts even follow math?”

“I think they follow some math. It’s not magic that makes the ecto-bazookas work, or the Fenton-phones work, or—well the thermos DIDN’T work—until I made it work.”

The unspoken thing Danny had been not-quite-saying hung in the air. He said it this time.

“So I’m wondering if I did it. Like the Fenton thermos. And now maybe they’re gonna do the math all over and realize the missing piece of the equation is one half-ghost son.”

“Well the order is backwards, for starters,” Sam said. “Thermos worked because you pumped ghost-energy into it. How would you have done that to the portal? You were human when you walked in.”

“Sam’s right. What do you think you brought to the table exactly? Button-slapping abilities?” Tucker loaded up the next level. “It was their portal, and their math, and it worked. There’s a million-billion kinds of math and they probably just forgot one thing.”

Tucker took a headshot and died. Mechanically, he handed the controller back to Danny.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Ask Vlad. He’s got a portal.”

“Like Vlad’s gonna tell me.”

“Just promise to be his diligent little son minion or whatever. He’s easy. Wait, let me do the next level. You know I like the cyberpunk levels.”

“It’s not your turn,” Danny said, reeling the controller just out of Tucker’s wiggling grasp.

“I’ll let you do two in a row for your next turn.”

Danny knocked Tucker away, distracted just long enough for a zombie cyberbeam to launch from the horizon and take him out through the head.

The screen washed sepia. Danny stared at it. You died.

…

Danny hadn’t really meant to stay the night at Tucker’s place. They’d just gotten really far in Man vs. Zombie, and Sam had gone home, and Danny was just resting his eyes between his turns with the controller.

So when he woke to the bright strip of sunlight beaming into his eyes through the attic skylight, his first thought was Fuck.

He was awake, here, morning, school. Fuck he had not actually done his History of Invention report, despite the stupid amount of grief it had already caused him this weekend. He pulled his face out of the armrest, now pineapple-patterned from the decaying leather, and pawed for his phone fallen on the floor. If it was still early enough, he could maybe still afford to desperately half-ass something before sixth period science.

He flipped his phone open. A text from Jazz. “Don’t come home. Make up an excuse.”

“…Fuck,” Danny whispered, through the sensation of his heart launching itself into his throat.

He scrambled upright, whole body shaking at the mercy of adrenaline shock so soon after being pulled from dead sleep. His mouth was dry, teeth unbrushed, wearing his old clothes from yesterday, report not done, Don’t come home, Don’t come home, Don’t come home.

They knew. He’d fucked it up. Somehow they knew. The math. Something. And it had to be with guns blazing, because Jazz would not send that text if they’d taken the “We accept you” angle.

Were they coming for him? On their way here? Tracking by his phone? Did they like Mrs. Foley enough to not SWAT-slam her against the wall when she opened the door for them so they could come capture the ghost pretending to be their son?

Fuck.

Danny was upright. Danny was standing. Danny was shaking. Danny wasn’t actually sure what the next thing was he was supposed to do.

Tucker’s ball of blankets rustled from the couch. “Mmph?” he asked, articulately.

“I have to. Go deal with my parents, I think,” Danny said, because any plan felt a little better than no plan. “I think they know.”

Danny was a ghost. Danny was gone. Tucker sat upright, alone, blinking himself awake. He was staring at the You Died sepia screen still displayed on monitor, now burnt into the plasma of the tv.

…

Danny paused with his human hand slick on the Fenton front door. The gears in his mind turned as his plan quickly unraveled into no-plan. He had no plan, right? What was his plan? Handle this Man vs Zombie style—open the front door ready to dodge wide, because both zombies and parents liked to camp behind closed doors with bazookas at the ready?

“—absolutely absurd, and entirely unscientific, with no probability of being true. It goes against everything we know about neurology.”

Oh, Jazz. Was Jazz enough of a bazooka-deterrent? Probably not. Knowing his parents.

Danny turned the knob. His heart hammered. If bazookas, dodge left.

The first thing he noticed was in fact the no-bazookas. It was what he was most looking for. And so it was Jazz’s expression he did not notice until second—whites of her eyes wide, snapped to Danny, with a look that would be accusatory if worry hadn’t won that battle. Her cheeks were pale. Her hair was unbrushed.

He noticed his parents third. Compulsively, he rocked back onto his right foot, still outside the doorway, still outside the threshold of the Fenton family household.

Seeing his parents tired was of absolutely no shock-value to Danny. It was at least a twice-per-month tradition to see them haul themselves up from the basement sweaty and glaze-eyed at 7am, babbling excitement about some new ecto-spectral-hoozy-whatsits whose concept had shimmed into their minds at 8pm and now existed, fully operational, 11 nonstop hours later.

So it wasn’t the exhaustion on their face. It wasn’t the stagnant smell of sweat or the paleness of their faces or the stains on their clothes.

It was the way they looked at him. Like their whole world had fallen apart with his foot passing over the doorstep.

“Danny,” Jazz said, choked, a break in the silence. “Things are…! A little weird here. So maybe, if you wanna just get to school, I’ll finish clearing up—there’s a misunderstanding Mom and Dad have with their math. I am state finalist in Math League and have been studying college-level calculus in preparation for school applications so I’ve offered to help them fix their math, or prove to them—”

“Danny,” Maddie said, an echo of Jazz, but it felt worse. Danny scanned her hands for anything pointed enough to be a weapon. They were empty. “Danny can I just ask you something honestly, just quickly? Jazz is right. I’m just trying to clear up an issue with our math. And I won’t be mad. Whatever the answer is, I won’t be mad. I just want an honest answer.”

She stepped closer. Danny fought the urge to match her with a step backwards. Her eyes roved over him in a starved way, looking for something.

“Were you there when the portal turned on?” she asked.

“No, I wasn’t,” Danny answered. He wasn’t sure what to do with his face to make it look convincing. “It just. It needed some time to boot up, or something, right? That’s what you two said.”

“That was our guess ,but we don’t really know. The security tapes are wiped. We tried to make them EMF-resilient but a very, very strong blast of EMF could still corrupt them.”

“Yeah. I mean the portal’s gonna do that, right? When it turned on? Ripping open the Ghost Zone that’s—gotta be huge EMF.” Danny’s focus bounced between his mother’s eyes. “Just a guess. I really don’t know. I was in bed, already, whenever the portal started working.”

Left eye. Right eye. Why was she looking at him like that? Like she was sad. Was this part a trick? Make Danny let his guard down, go hey Mom need a hug? and that’s when the bazooka-whipping starts? It made his ribs feel scratchy. Stop looking at me like that.

“Have you felt anything weird at all, since the portal started working? Any gaps in your memory? Any parts of you that don’t feel right? Is there any part of you that feels like it’s changed in a way you can’t explain?”

She reached a hand out. Danny instinctively recoiled.

“Uh, yeah. They taught us about this in health class. They call it ‘puberty’ there.”

“Danny,” Jack said, and his voice was scratchy from disuse, from a long and uncharacteristic amount of time spent not speaking. “Did you die in the machine?”

A beat. A moment. Like when the zombie sends a hammer through your head.

“I’M alive!” Danny declared with a crack in his voice, with hands slammed to his chest. “Look at me. What are you talking about?”

“It’s the only math that works,” Jack continued, his words like chalk, his voice too dead. He looked too much at Danny. “If one of you two walked into the portal, and died in it. And I don’t think it was Jazz.”

This was bad. This was weird. Danny had ghost powers, sure. ‘They can’t kill me I’m already dead,’ was a funny joke sometimes. But it was funny as a joke. He was a ghost sham, really. A faker, a LARPer, whatever Tucker had called it. He was a human who was just kind of a freak now. More of a freak than he already was. He looked dead, for someone who was super-duper still alive.

He’d buried that worry, already. They weren’t allowed to bring it back.

“Look… at me!” Danny continued, mouth dry. He threw his arms wide. “Look how super alive I am! I’m awake! Using energy! Eating food and sleeping with my human body. I’ve got flesh and blood and bones and stuff! I’m not a ghost-expert but ghosts don’t have that.”

This was weird. This made Danny feel like something was scratching to get free from inside his rib cage. It twisted his entrails. Sure Tucker and Sam had thought he was dead, for those first horrible few minutes, but then he changed back to a human and the nightmare ended there. Jazz never called him dead. The ghosts called him freak and halfa and whelp, but never ‘one of them.’ That was his whole thing: being different from the ghosts who became ghosts by something so normal as dying.

He was not dead.

“If you died in the portal, your ghost wouldn’t have been ripped out of your body. It would have been allowed to stay, and then you’d be…” Jack hesitated. “I don’t know what you’d be, but you wouldn’t be alive.”

“Dad,” Jazz said, and she stood herself bodily between Danny and Jack. “What an absolutely messed up out-of-line thing to say to your son! You don’t know that! Dad you’re tired, and just because you weren’t able to solve your math problem in one night doesn’t mean you get to treat Danny like this! I said I’d help you with your math! Now apologize to Danny.”

Jazz looked over her shoulder to Danny, her expression falling at the sight of Danny’s face.

Danny backed up over the door threshold. He shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with this. This is weird. I’m gonna go to school now.”

“Danny, I promise they’re just—”

Danny turned on heel. No backpack, no change of clothes. He took to the street without a single school supply and moved, and moved.

It was supposed to be guns-blazing. Molecule by molecule. Headshot you died. He’d prepared for that this whole time, in the shower, in his dreams, in his daydreams in class. He’d duck and dodge and explain himself over and over until they understood him.

Danny wasn’t sure he was capable of explaining himself anymore.

…

Danny knocked the heavy iron knocker. He was in ghost form, as a threat. He wondered if he still smelled like yesterday’s sweat now that he wasn’t wearing yesterday’s clothes. Now he was wearing the clothes he died in.

No one answered the door. Danny phased himself in.

“Vlad!” he called, and his words echoed along the slope of the two elaborate winding staircases that twirled and met at the top like caduceus. Gold-plated banisters. A security camera buried somewhere in the ceiling, no doubt.

Danny phased into the library. His eyes roved the three stories of bookshelves wrapping the perimeter like a sheath. Gaudy. Audacious. Like Vlad would ever read that much. Danny racked his brain because some something in here was the secret to opening Vlad’s laboratory. Jazz had told him. Some gold something to be touched, and pressed down, or pushed up? Or it opened to a button. Or a keypad, maybe.

Danny spat a curse. He was being stupid. He was frazzled. He wasn’t thinking straight.

He dove into the floor below. Intangibility was the only key he needed.

The sheetrock was cold, even when he wasn’t touching it. The darkness was so piercing it made static jump in his vision, some weird trick of the brain Jazz had explained where, in the absence of all light, the brain hallucinates its own. It came with a sensation of pressure against his eyeballs, and a complete disorientation of direction, and he simply just kept going down.

Danny emerged into a wash of cold air. Cold like metal was cold. The low lights of dials and clicking machines were bright to his eyes previously dunked into the pitchest nothing. He drank it in, eyes grateful for light no matter how little, inner ear grateful for orientation that had left his head swimming and his stomach tight.

His feet tapped down to the stone ground, and the air that breezed past him was chilled.

“Vlad!” Danny called again.

Nothing.

He moved by the floor lighting, which ran in trim along the perimeter of the laboratory rooms. It lit things from beneath, made machines gaunt and specimens into sharp geometries of darkness and flesh. It made the Fenton lab feel warm in a way Danny had never considered it warm.

His feet clacked. His breath puffed.

“Vlad!”

He followed light, followed a wash of green miasma percolating from some far room and catching on the particulate of water and dust that disturbed with the air currents. Danny disturbed it too, walking through, wearing its shade of green which his shadow robbed from the wall behind him.

“Vlad. I swear to god Vlad.”

He crossed the threshold of the portal room, where the dusting of green ambience became a medallion wash of golden-green coating, painting every surface of the room. The Fenton lab was one single expansive room, portal anchored into the far wall and facing all the dead and empty air in front of it. This was different. A much smaller room, walled on all sides save for the simple doorway, and each surface reflected the color back deeper and heavier. It was like a fishtank in the wall of an aquarium lit radiant aqua-blue by all the lights within, but green instead, pure ecto-green.

Danny approached the open portal. He stared into its placid swirls, mesmerized, and scared of it, in a way he hadn’t previously felt about the portal in the Fenton basement.

“Ah, seems the cat is a good mouser after all, it dragged you in my boy.” The words came sing-song. They came spine-shivering for Danny, who felt them like hot breath on his shoulder and reeled back, pivoted, fire crackling to life in his palms.

Vlad stood at the doorway, a solid 20 steps from Danny.

“Vlad.”

“So I’ve been hearing.”

“I need you to explain the portal.”

“Ah, I see you’ve spoken to your parents.” Vlad stepped in, washed in the ecto-green which muddied his ruby red eyes. He held his hands behind his back, cape trailing, a smirk on his fanged face. “Last I heard they weren’t taking the news very well.��

“What news. What did you tell them?”

“Me? Nothing. In fact, very kindly for your sake I even tried to drive them away from the answer but… We know how stubborn your parents can be.”

“What answer?”

“That you’re dead, Daniel.”

Shock washed like ice down Danny’s spine. It sent prickles like spider legs across his skin.

“Well, I suppose there’s still chance for some doubt. It could be Jazz. She could take the fall for you, if there’s any benefit to that at all.”

“I’m a halfa. We are halfas,” Danny said.

“A silly made up word by a silly child,” Vlad mused, and the light smile left his lips. “We are dead.”

“I’m not dead,” and Danny’s words were small, and they were childish.

“You are. I am. Embrace it. It’s nicer this way.” Vlad took a few steps closer, lionously tall in his saunter, feet clacking the ground. “It’s very freeing. After you’ve died already what is there left to fear?”

“I’m alive.”

“You’re a dead body with its soul still stuffed inside it like a Christmas goose. A lot of things in your body don’t work anymore, but ghosts don’t work right anyway and it is, for all its defiance of nature, a perfectly symbiotic relationship.” Vlad’s smile brushed his lips again, warm. “It’s nice to share this with you. Isn’t it nice to share things with people?”

Danny’s heart was beating too fast in his chest, and it was a human heart, a human beat. “I’m not dead,” he declared.

“Your wounds heal quickly because the ghost piloting you only needs to remember form. It stacks cells back into place and calls it good. You’ll endure fatal injuries as you no doubt have many times in your fights, but they’re trivial because physical trauma is not what kills a ghost. It’s what creates one. You’ll necrotize in places but it’s okay, because you’ll carry on, and it will bother you only if you let it bother you, if you’re too sentimental about the puppet you’re still inside.” Vlad closed in closer, neck craning to appraise Danny. “Ghosts love a facsimile of life so you will keep your heart pumping, your lungs breathing. You’ll eat and you’ll sleep but you’ll find you won’t perish if you don’t. It just won’t be a good time if you want to keep occupying your flesh form. Take better care of it. You won’t get another.”

“You’re psychotic. And you’re wrong.”

“I have all the math to prove it.” Vlad leered from over Danny’s shoulder. He circled the boy, knocking Danny’s balance, who still on a hair trigger stood ready to fight. The light from the ghost portal painted Vlad’s face like the phases of the moon as he moved. “Did your parents explain that part to you properly?”

“No, because they didn’t get the math right.”

“Oh they’ve gotten it right. This time. It only took them two decades longer than it took me.” The portal rolled like static, and its fizzling pattern crashed like an ocean wave across Vlad’s cape. “No amount of man-made power is sufficient to drag the entire fabric of the Ghost Zone up against our own, tear a hole through it, and anchor it to a stable frame. It requires something with a pull on the Ghost Zone, a strong pull, and that thing is a human life at the moment of an extraordinarily violent death.”

Danny backed a step away from the portal, from Vlad, but the walls boxed him in. He swam in its green light.

“You stepped in and you turned the portal on, that’s what you thought, right, Daniel? Pressed a careless button on the inside and now here we are. Silly parents for not finding that button first.” Vlad’s face hardened. “No. Jack and Maddie knew about the button. Maddie explained it to me over the phone. What engineer designing and building their own portal would forget the location of the on button? They’d pressed it from the outside. It didn’t work. And so you pressing the button was not the important part. It was you dying to the electrocution that clicked everything right into place. And while your ghost should have been torn from your lifeless corpse and pulled to the Ghost Zone you instead pulled the Ghost Zone here. Your ghost got to stay put. You opened the portal. You became the undead freak you are. And now we’re here.”

Danny’s eyes bounced between Vlad’s. His cheeks felt hot, like he was enduring an accusation of wrongdoing. And he had none of the knowledge to refute what was being said.

“You’re messing with me. You’re wrong,” Danny shot back. He thrust an arm out, drenched in the fog of the portal. “If the portal needs a person to die in it then explain your portal! Are you so casual about it? You killed someone? You’re admitting to murder and you think I won’t do anything about it?”

Anger flashed like a storm across Vlad’s face. His aura swelled, pressing down with a pressure on Danny as Vlad halted and cast his shadow clear across Danny, coating the back wall. “The killing of other people with the wanton carelessness of half-baked machines is the domain of Jack and Jack alone. I’ve brought no such harm onto anyone else.”

“Then how do you have this portal?”

“This portal? This portal that I’ve had for 20 years? Which I opened when I solved the piece of Jack’s broken math that he was never able to solve until this morning?” Vlad stalked closer, hunched, imposing. Danny stepped back. “My boy Daniel you’ve had it so easy. You had it so simple. A truly clean break. So clean so lucky. A single lethal dose of electricity and it was already over. I’m jealous. You never even suffered.”

Vlad stepped closer, striking distance, arm extended. Danny flinched, but Vlad only swept his cape around, clenched in his fist, and pivoted to approach the portal.

“Put out of your misery before it even started.” Vlad slammed his fist against the portal rim, and the explosive metallic clang bounced through the rooms. His laugh belted out. “I should have been so lucky.”

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A sophomore in college. A man actively in the midst of sabotaging his social life to chase a woman who was already deeply in love with Vlad’s best friend who he hated more every day. He wasn’t sure what he ever enjoyed about Jack’s bumbling ineptitude, or his loudness, his brashness, his poor social skills, his bad breath, his mullet. Maybe Vlad had gravitated to Jack because deep down he loved how superior it made him feel to surround himself with the likes of Jack Fenton… And now, he hated how enraged it made him to watch Maddie’s eyes skip past his to focus on Jack Fucking Fenton again and again and again and again.

But surely there was hope still. Surely it was a matter of time before the rose-tinted glasses fell away and Maddie saw bumbling and inept and every such word in the basket when she looked at Jack. There’d come the day she tested the waters with Vlad to complain about one of Jack’s little quirks, and they’d find solace together in all the things Vlad was that Jack wasn’t, and all the things Vlad had that Jack didn’t. And he’d be gone, back to bumble elsewhere, and it would be just them.

The day didn’t come. It wouldn’t come. And maybe Vlad needed to change himself for Maddie. If he listened to her and Jack’s ghost ramblings, if he could put Jack in his place and solve the things Maddie couldn’t, it would show her. She’d understand.

Because that was the thing about Jack. His math was never right. Enduring Calculus 1 with Jack was all it took to prove this to Vlad. How many times he’d caught a single error on a single line for Jack, like a dropped stitch that would unravel the whole sweater. Every problem, without exception. Jack only passed on his homework grade with Vlad’s help. On his tests, he failed.

So Vlad was staring at Jack’s equation, full of bogus math, which Vlad knew was wrong because Jack had penned it, and Vlad had not yet fixed it himself.

“I’m telling you Jack, it won’t work.”

“Bogus V-man it totally will!”

It wouldn’t. But Vlad wouldn’t fix it for him. Not yet. Vlad would let Jack embarrass himself first, fully in front of Maddie, watching on, judging. Vlad would solve it for her. After. Once Jack had made a fool of himself for the hundredth time since college began.

He leaned in to study the portal frame. The gears were turning in his head already. He didn’t hear the whir of the power source catch.

…

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A tube ran down his nose and into his lungs, supplying oxygen for lungs which were failed by a diaphragm sloughing itself away. He was poisoned from the outside-in. Irradiated by ecto-energy none of the nurses or doctors could fully understand. It damaged his DNA. First obvious in the skin of his face where the blisters of his ecto-acne drained and sloughed. “Acne” was the wrong word. An unkind word. They were boils where the blast had cooked his skin, microwaved his cells. The skin on his body blackened over time. Organs decayed. Vlad Master read a lot about radiation sickness. He knew everything he had to expect.

Jack and Maddie had stopped visiting. They were dating now. It was on their last visit they’d told him, and Vlad hadn’t taken it well, and he’d perhaps burned a few bridges with the words he chose. It was deserved. Considering what Jack did to him.

He’d found the error in Jack’s math, by the way. Errors, but all the rest paled in impact compared to the lambda. The ecto-energy. The necessary ecto-potential to pull the Ghost Zone here. How stupid. How idiotic. For Vlad to die to a machine so botched in its construction.

When Vlad was released from the hospital, it was not because they’d cured him. It had been because there is a certain cruelty in making a 19-year-old live the last of his days bedded down in a white-walled room with just his books, his equations, and no one coming to visit anymore.

He was released with bedrest instructions. Vlad did not heed them. In his beater car, every cell of his body aching, he drove. At the materials lab, he disconnected his oxygen tank and moved through the lab space with the tube dangling loose from his nostril. No one was Vlad Masters’ friend. No one cared to stare long at his ugly boil-ridden face. No one stopped him as he hauled sheet metal, and supports, and bolts and wiring and resistors and power tools, checked out with a valid student ID, from the lab. The lab inventory room would not be seeing these back.

It was a prep bunker, buried beneath a vast lot of empty Wisconsin land, that Vlad hauled his materials. He and Jack had discovered it as freshmen. Poked through its bowels with flashlights and quipped and laughed over how eerie it was. Deep beneath the sheetrock, boxy rooms carved out of walls of stone. Shelf upon shelf of dusty canned foods, and shotguns sealed in cases fastened to the walls. The locks had rusted with water damage.

His arms ached until they throbbed, dragging beams of metal across the stone floor, scratching chalk-mark stains into the ground. His skin sloughed, inflamed, burning to the touch. Vlad didn’t bother to rest, because these injuries would never heal anyway. He hauled, and welded, and wired up his circuitry and resistors with a care and caution Jack would never have bothered to practice. He checked it against his math by flashlight. He took naps on the cold stone floor and woke with deep purple bruises on every part of his body that had pressed against the ground.

His appetite left him. His lungs filled with mucus. The boils on his face had spread down to his chest, his shoulders. The touch of his shirt chafed them, so he worked without one, a figure of skeletal rib ridges jutting from tight skin that bloomed with the projection of his shadow against stone walls.

He knew why Jack’s math was wrong.

A silly mistake. A stupid mistake. Anyone with half a mind for the paranormal should have realized the Ghost Zone was not so easily at your beck and call. Not without chumming the water with something it would rise to feast on.

And in that violent death, what would happen to the ghost? It would stay, wouldn’t it? If it successfully anchored the Ghost Zone to the portal it stood inside, then by definition the ghost would stay?

And was that death? Yes, in a way. But it was a death one would get to keep living. As opposed to the death Vlad was headed for, whose coldness and finality scared Vlad more than anything he could put to words.

He’d fixed the oxygen tank back to himself. He couldn’t work without it, hauling it about on a little dolly with him, back and forth, while he fetched and affixed the last of the plating he needed to craft the frame of his silent soulless portal.

He’d stolen a generator from the sports storage shed. It was meant to be enough to power the portable stadium lights they hauled onto the fields for late games, an absolute obelisk meant to cast light across an entire football field.

Surely, it contained enough power to kill one simple human.

Vlad fixed the last bolt in place. Jumper cables clamped generator to portal wiring. It was a pure skeleton. A paltry thing, like the bones of something already picked clean. Built in haste, sloppy, by a 19-year-old whose fingers were too inflamed to clutch a wrench any longer.

He could have asked Jack for help. Maddie. But he wouldn’t let them have this. They had to solve the portal on their own. They didn’t get to know his hard work. They did not get to save him.

Vlad would save himself.

A ghost anchored to a body. What was that? What monster was that?

Vlad moved. He coughed mucus from his lungs. It made it hard to breathe. So he moved slowly, and crouched, bony jutting angles, painted blotchy purple, all bruises and skin, sloughing away.

He crouched, because the portal he’d constructed was not large enough to hold him standing up. He bowed inside it, a small thing, a pathetic man of little life. He wheezed. He hurt. His eyes burned.

And he held in his hands the remote to flip the generator switch, and connect the circuit, and bring to life the math Vlad had so kindly corrected out from under Jack’s grip.

Vlad did not. Because throwing the switch would kill him.

Deep in his animal brain, his dying brain, he knew this intimately. It filled him with a drowning fear like paralysis. He did not want to die.

He would die if he did nothing.

It would be this one throwing of the switch which could save him. Which would burst the portal to life right through his heart. Electrocute it out of its rhythm, slaughter him like a pig on spot and… maybe… hopefully… drag the Ghost Zone here. And whatever he was, dead, would stay.

And whatever he was, dead, would be better than this.

Vlad held the remote in his clammy hands.

And from within the humming skeleton of his portal, his fingers caressed the on button.

…

The portal sung its happy contentment, mused in its healthy green aura, staining all the slabs of rock wall. Danny swiveled his head, recognizing now the bunker this had been before it had been a laboratory.

“I’ve harmed no one, Daniel,” Vlad concluded, his voice too measured for the horrors it had spilled forth. Too calm against the blossoming terror its words had wrought across Danny’s face. “I opened the portal to save myself. You’re lucky, Daniel. It was because of my fast thinking that your father is not a murderer. I took that honor from him.” Vlad’s head tilted to the side, suddenly sympathetic. “Although, you’ve maybe made the title whole for him.”

Vlad reached out, Danny shot away.

“Dad didn’t kill me,” he choked. “I did this to myself.”

“How lucky Jack is, to always dodge responsibility for his actions.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Of course you don’t. If you believed me, you’d have to accept you’re not wriggling out of this. There’s no denial you can bring home to your parents. If you believe me, then this is reality.” Vlad smiled, a playful glint to his fangs. “I suppose I should have more sympathy. I quite like being this way. It is so much nicer than wasting away to death, like I was. But you. You were healthy before this. This killed you, and it didn’t save you from anything.” Vlad cocked his head. “Such tragic fates, both of us, due to the carelessness of Jack Fenton.”

Danny shook his head. His heart beat—his human heart beat—all too fast in his throat. It made him sick. It made him feel like the walls were closing in around him. This was Vlad’s doing. Vlad’s trap. Vlad’s prison he’d been forced to join.

"That's not true. I'm not like you."

“Of course not,” Vlad said, sweetly. “How sweet denial is. Deny it if you like. Call me a liar. But if you ever want to come to terms with what your father did to you, consider coming to me. I understand you in a way no one else will.”

Danny gave no response. He gave no acknowledgement of Vlad’s words. He took to the air, phased himself up through the sheetrock that had been packed atop the doomsday prepper bunker. Up through the mansion, which had been built atop the portal beneath it, and not the other way around. Into the open sky, he breathed fresh air not stagnant and damp beneath the ground, bathed in light pure white from the sun and not tainted green like the bowels underneath him.

And he flew back toward the portal that made him, leaving Vlad with the portal from which he’d made himself.

...

(inspiration post from @ciestess)

#sham sacrifice #danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #vlad masters #danny fenton #YELLS AND THROWS THIS AT YOU #ive been spinning around like a top on this idea #tw: suicidal ideation

800 notes · View notes

liliacamethyst · 1 year

Note

Okay okay, theory,

So I’ve always though Miguel had wolf spider like powers, so claws, fangs, heightened senses that include smelling and hearing mainly

I feel like after a certain point in the pregnancy Miguel might be able to smell the hormones (hormones rise in the first trimester drastically) and dogs can smell pregnancy. So like maybe the main character tries to avoid him if they know OOP🙏

Love the story btw I’m obsessed 😭😭✌️

-🌙

THIS is so good and I can totally see it.

Unfortunately it doesn’t fit to my storyline as I have already went in a slightly different direction but here is a altenative Drabble to how Miguel finds out spider sun is pregnant with your theory (I really hope you enjoy it 🌙, and it is what you were looking for)

The tension in the Spider Society headquarters was almost tangible as you stepped into the main hall. Ever since your encounter with Miguel, you've been avoiding him as much as possible, doing everything in your power to remain out of his radar.

But the Spider Society is not a large place and despite your best efforts you were bound to cross paths with Miguel eventually. It was simply inevitable.

The moment you caught sight of Miguel, your heart thumped wildly in your chest. You took a step back, ready to leave the area. But then he turned and your paths locked. He squints as if he’s trying to read your mind or something. Your palms get sweaty, and you look around to see if anyone else is watching this very intense staring contest you didn't sign up for.

“Hey,” you stammer.

“Hey,” he replies. His nostrils do this little twitchy thing and you wonder if he’s about to sneeze or something.

“Uh, you good? You look like you’re sniffing out a bomb or something,” you joke.

Miguel goes silent for a second and then, his eyes widen. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. This is the moment you’ve been dreading. Damn his heightened senses! Miguel had always been able to pick up on the smallest changes in his environment.

“Wait a second,” he says, almost whispering. His voice cracks a little.

“Wait a second, what?” you retort, really wanting to just sprint out of the room. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re pretty sure everyone in the room can hear it.

“You... are you...” he doesn’t finish the sentence.

You let out a dramatic sigh.

“You’re pregnant!” he exclaims, louder than you'd like.

The room goes quiet for a second and you can feel all eyes on you. You're red as a tomato. Way to keep a secret.

You lean in and whisper sharply, “Could you say it louder? I don’t think the whole multiverse heard you.”

He looks flabbergasted and steps back, rubbing his face. You can see his brain is working overtime.

“Is it...?” He doesn't finish his question, but you know what he means.

“Wow, Sherlock, your senses are really on point today” you reply, sarcasm dripping from each word.

Miguel's face softens, his fierce demeanor crumbling. He looks almost vulnerable. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he says ever so softly.

You shrug. “You didn’t let me.”

#miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara Drabble #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara

1K notes · View notes

rinhaler · 6 months

Text

TAKE OFF, TAKE OFF, TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES

CHAPTER SUMMARY: It's Chigiri's birthday and everyone decides it's a perfect day to go to the nearby village to shop for secret santa gifts! Will you be able to get through one day without bickering with your ex?

ex-fiancé!rin x f!reader

WARNINGS : 18+, alcohol consumption, hate sex? + love making, dry humping, mutual pining, no prep, vaginal sex, premature ejaculation, creampie, fingering, oral, mattress humping, tit sucking, multiple rounds?, overstimulation, squirting, choking, praise, dacryphilia, pet names (princess, baby).

WORDS : 12.2k

notes : It's MY birthday too btw hehe wanted Chigiri to be the readers bestie bc he's my birthday twin oops enjoy the fic tho ♡

LAST CHAPTER┊MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

Daybreak filters through the window as your eyes begrudgingly flutter open. It seems like both you and Chigiri had forgotten to close the curtains before you passed out drunk and stoned. The mattress beneath you feels like a cloud as you stretch out; your hand comes into contact with cold, fair skin.

You blink the sleep from your eyes when you recall that Hyoma seldom sleeps without a shirt.

And your blood runs cold.

It all comes rushing back to you, then. That crushing conversation with Rin you’d had last night that made you sob and search for your best friend, leaving him alone so you could preserve his enjoyment of the evening.

“Eita.” you whisper, attempting to shake him awake.

He knocked on your door, offered you weed, and you couldn’t bring yourself to decline. Not when you were so lonely, so filled with envy and loathing as you dredged over each painful word your ex shared with you on his balcony.

“Mmpf, w’time is it?” Eita grumbles, feeling around for his phone until he finds it. “Eugh, it’s so early…”

“You have to go.” you tell him, lightly slapping him until he pays attention to you. You get out of bed and are met with the freezing air filling the room. He doesn’t listen, but he watches you with one eye slightly open as you rush to turn on the heater to warm up the room. You freeze as you look at him again, wondering why he’s shirtless if it’s so cold. “Eita… did we…”

“Mm.” he grunts, closing his eyes again. You jump onto the mattress beside him, really shaking him so he can’t possibly ignore you. “Woah, what is it?”

“We fucked?” you ask him, panicking.

“No way.” he shakes his head. “Don’t fuck drunk ‘n high girls.” he assures you.

You breathe a sigh of relief as you lie back beside him. It’s stupid to worry about Rin anymore, but you can’t help it. He said he wouldn’t care if you fucked the whole house, but did he really mean it? It seems like a violation, to you, breaking bro code or something. And, honestly, you don’t think it would reflect well on you either.

The last thing you wanted to do was cause an uproar when you’re here for a few more days.

“Eita? What happened last night?” you wonder, quietly, unsure if you want the answer.

You might not have had sex, but that doesn’t mean something else didn’t happen. If you kissed, you certainly don’t remember it. The possibilities are endless, and it makes your blood reach the same chilling temperature that fills the room.

“We jus’ smoked, baby,” he tells you, rolling over on his stomach to look at you. He’s pretty, like this. He’s pretty anyway. But the pinks and yellows breaching through the blinds softens him immensely. “You cried a lot. About Rin. ‘n then you passed out.” he closes his eyes to sleep some more.

How utterly humiliating.

Though you don’t really have time to dwell as you see him trying to sneakily sleep beside you again. You lightly tap his face, yanking the duvet away from him to reveal his toned back muscles.

He’s still wearing his jeans from the party.

“I don’t know where Chigiri is, but if anyone sees you in here, they’re gonna get the wrong idea,” you whisper, and he grunts. He takes his time, but eventually, gets up in search of his shirt and shoes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles back at you over his shoulder as he shoves his feet into his sneakers. “You want Rin back, yeah?”

“I—” you hesitate. Do you want him back? You still stand by the reasons you decided to end things, after all. But so many feelings have come rushing back since seeing him in the flesh again. You were missing him already before you even got here. And now, you’re so close but so far. And even further now that he’s seeing someone new.

Do you really want him back?

Or do you just want what you can’t have?

“Either way, you don’t need me right now.” he tells you, pulling his shirt over his head. “Your loss, by the way.” he laughs.

“Hah, really?” you laugh too.

“Big time, I’m definitely a better fuck than Itoshi. Both of them,” he winks, biting his lip before heading for the door. “If you change your mind, I’ll be around.” he salutes before sneaking out and shutting the door behind him.

The cold air hits you like a brick as you run to lock the door after him, but you hurry back to warmth soon after. You starfish in the bed when you realise you have the space to yourself again, and your eyes slowly close. A few more minutes sleep won’t hurt, right? No one else seems to be awake yet.

He didn’t even tell you what time it is.

You roll over and grab your phone from the side table and wince when you see that it’s only 8am. It’s sickening, so much so that you practically throw your phone back down and get in a comfortable position to sleep.

It’s short lived, though, you get fifteen minutes of resting your eyes at most before you hear knocking at the door.

It makes you grumble, like a man. Like your dad specifically. It horrifies you enough to make you stir and clamber out of bed. It’s grotesque, you think, inheriting such an uncouth trait.

You’ll have to train yourself out of it.

You unlock the door, and you aren’t sure why you’re surprised to see Chigiri step through. He stares at you silently as you lock the door again, he doesn’t even follow you into bed when you cover your barely clothed limbs.

“Something happened last night.” he tells you, looking worried.

“What?” you wonder. “What did you do?”

He looks so serious, and it makes your heart race. Did you do something embarrassing? Probably, but that isn’t anything new. His silence makes your body flush with warmth. The nerves and anxiety you feel begin to course through every nerve ending you possess, and soon enough you’re throwing the blankets away from your body.

He looks into your eyes before thinking about what he should say. And after losing all composure, he starts laughing. “Nothing, just wanted to see what it feels like to be you for a second.” he smirks, “You do that shit everyday? Exhausting.”

“You’re such a dick.” you chastise him, getting comfy in the bed again. And now, finally, he joins you. “Have you got a hangover?”

“Big time.” he tells you. You grab some painkillers from your side table and pop out enough from the silvery film for you and Chigiri to consume. “Something happened last night, right?” he asks.

“Don’t get me started.” you sigh.

“I came up here to come to bed, the door was locked.” he tells you, “So I woke up with Tabito on the couch, Sae on the floor and Oliver on the coffee table.”

You laugh, rolling on your side so you can face each other and gossip. The state everyone is in today is no surprise. Though you suspect the only one not nursing a hangover is probably Rin. You didn’t see him drink all that much, and he doesn’t get high.

He’s probably doing his morning routine right now.

A routine he got you into when you first started dating. You wanted to impress him, after all. But his yoga routines are far out of your league. You used to end up giggling on your back after a fall while he laughed along with you.

But you liked doing the meditation afterwards.

“Rin almost kissed me last night, I think…” you contemplate it, though you admittedly aren’t sure if it’s a fabrication. “It was really intense, but he rejected me.”

“Damn.” he replies, “Wait, so you were in here alone? Why did you lock the door?!”

“Eita spent the night…” you sigh, covering your face with your pillow. Chigiri teases you, trying to pull it away to inspect your facial expressions. He’s laughing, loudly, unable to believe what he’s hearing. “He told me that we just got high, and I cried about Rin.” you confess.

“You are floundering.” he tells you, and you nod. “He’s into you, you’re into him, Ryusei made him sound like a major player so he’s probably a good fuck. Rin gave you your answer, you should have sealed the deal!” he continues, and all you can do is groan. Because he’s right.

How long is it going to take to get over Rin, anyway? Why should you spare his feelings when he clearly has no desire to do the same for you?

Eita isn’t what you want right now, though.

His pretty face and his alleged impeccable stroke game isn’t going to change that.

“Rin was jealous last night.” Chigiri admits, and it grabs your attention instantly. “Ryusei was, too. But Rin was really jealous.”

“Really?”

He nods, “When you were dancing with Eita, I was trying to keep an eye on him.” you get comfortable and make full eye contact with him again as he speaks. “While we were playing never have I ever, too. When Eita and Oliver were all over you, he looked pissed.”

“Interesting…”

“His girlfriend’s gotta be a rebound.” he theorizes, and for whatever reason, it gives you chills. Both of your eyes widen at the same time, and no doubt you’ve arrived at the same idea. “We need to get more info.”

“Ryusei wants to talk to me at some point, I’ll ask him.” you tell Hyoma, and he nods, concurring that it’s a good idea. “You need to talk to Sae. He might know something.”

“He didn’t even know Rin was coming,” Chigiri rolls his eyes, but relents. “Fine.”

The two of you go downstairs, surprisingly greeted by everyone else. Everyone’s crowded around the kitchen island again. The smell of bacon, eggs and toast floods your nostrils as you descend and reach the kitchen.

You sit in between Oliver and Chigiri, the former not paying you too much attention other than a polite hello. Ryusei catches your eye as he tilts his head, waving when you finally make eye contact. His face looks serious, intentional, he’s waiting for that talk you silently agreed to.

“Surprised you’re cooking for us all, Rin.” Hyoma speaks, resting his elbow on the countertop before settling his head in his hand.

“Yeah, well,” he speaks quietly but with a slight gruffness. “It’s fine.”

He carefully sets down two plates in front of you all. Eita and Ryusei are already eating, so Oliver reaches for the nearest plate. Rin scowls at him, harshly trapping his hand between the plate and the spatula he’s holding.

“That’s not for you.” Rin tells him, and he moves his hand. You watch him as he pushes the plate in your direction, looking at you briefly before he looks back at Oliver. “Here.” he continues, pushing the other plate towards his hungry friend.

Hyoma is thankful that Rin seems too preoccupied trying to shield his face from you to notice how his eyes have widened and he can’t control the smirk on his face. You haven’t noticed, either, but Sae raises a suspicious eyebrow as he looks at your best friend. Though, luckily, he doesn’t comment on it.

You look down at the plate, realising why he wanted you to have this plate. He’s cut your toast into triangles how he knows you like, and they are the perfect shade of golden brown with butter dreamily melting into it. He cut the fat off your bacon and fried it until it was crispy.

You look at Oliver’s plate, seeing how little care have gone into the eggs. The yolks are messy and broken, whereas yours are perfect.

“Thank you, Rinni— Rin.” you smile, picking up your cutlery as you start to dig in. He doesn’t say anything, he just smiles weakly as he nods. He washes his hands in the sink as his brother places a plate down in front of Chigiri. He sits opposite to him with a plate of his own.

Your smile fades as you watch Rin walk away without sitting down with a plate of his own.

“Where’re you going?” Ryusei asks, cheeks full of food as he talks.

“Not hungry.” he responds, retreating upstairs.

You sigh, losing your appetite despite the food looking so perfectly appealing. Hyoma leans over to you, whispering that you need to eat as he watches you play with your food. He’s right, as usual, so you force yourself to take a few bites. Your eyes meet Ryusei’s as you look up, and you see an expression of concern and worry on his face.

It forces you to continue eating. You don’t want to worry everyone, after all.

But you yourself are worried about Rin.

He could be telling the truth, of course. It’s possible that he really isn’t hungry. But what if it’s your fault? Maybe he can’t stomach the idea of being around you. Eating around you. He might not even want to breathe the same air as you after last night.

Breakfast… he made it for you specifically, though.

Why would he do that if he hated you so much?

“He’s almost finished eating,” Hyoma whispers, gesturing to Shidou’s plate. “Eat your food, pull him aside, and I’ll see if I can find out anything from Sae.” he continues.

You take a few more bites and push your plate aside. Chigiri waits for you to do as he had told you, but you whisper to him instead.

“Why do you think Rin isn’t eating?” you ask, “I should make him breakfast since he did the same for me!” you smile, excitedly.

“Aw!” he smiles back, a little too widely to be sincere. “Your cooking is disgusting. You’re trying to get him back, not kill him.”

“Oh my God it isn’t that ba—”

“Hey, didn’t you need to talk to Shidou about something?” he says, loudly, pulling everyone’s attention from their food to look at your exchange. No one is more captivated than Shidou himself, however, who picks up both of your plates and moves them closer to the sink. “I’ll wash up, dude, don’t worry.” Chigiri says as he stands to his feet, shooting you a final, warning glare before walking to the sink.

You smile at Ryusei, leading him over to the empty lounge. He lights the wood logs in the fireplace after seeing your skin break out in goosebumps. The couch feels tight as you sit together, despite being so far apart. His arm rests over the back while he rests an ankle on his knee, and you’re sitting cross-legged with your back against the furniture’s arm.

It’s awkward.

There’s an obvious tension that you don’t feel qualified to break. He’s formulating words, you can see him thinking of what to say since he’s older and should therefore be more mature. He’s the one who hurt you, unintentionally of course, so he should try and alleviate this heavy feeling of unease.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he starts. “If I did anything to give you the wrong idea… I’m sorry.”

“No, I was being a brat, I’m sorry.” you tell him, trying your best to not let your bruised ego interfere with a friendship you do value wholeheartedly. “You were right, I was hurting and then I lashed out because I was embarrassed.”

“You know I’d fuck you in a heartbeat if you weren’t Rin’s girl, yeah?” he laughs, tilting your head up by the chin with his finger as he urges you to look at him. “I know you aren’t together, but it’s a red line to me.”

“I understand…” you nod, “Are you going to tell him?”

He shakes his head, “There’s nothing to tell. Nothin’ happened.” he smiles at you. He pulls you into his arms and hugs you tightly. It makes you giggle; you can’t help yourself. Ryusei always seems to make you feel lighter whenever you talk to him.

He’s sweet.

Really sweet.

And often times, severely misunderstood. You’ve known him since he was young, he’s thirty, now. You remember meeting him when you hadn’t been with Rin for too long. He told you about how they’d fight, physically. He told you he was crazy and unhinged, this that and the other.

But you got to know him, you suppose.

You got to see a softer side of him and one that cares deeply. And he does care for you, even still. He’ll care about you for as long as he lives, you can see it plainly as he holds you in his arms, looking up into his eyes.

He looks at you like you’re his everything, sometimes.

You melt into his arms when you hear him lightly sniff your strawberry scented hair, it makes him hold you tighter. His head drops, levelling his mouth with your ear.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he wonders.

You stiffen, and he feels it. He rubs your shoulders lightly with his thumbs, encouraging you to share in your own time. Whether it’s now, or in an hour.

He’s got you.

“Rin— His… girlfriend,” you gulp, fighting tears as they threaten to form and douse your cheeks for the second day in a row. “Do you know anything?”

“I know the same as you,” he confesses, feeling a pang on guilt in his heart as he hears you sigh in disappointment. “You ended things, baby, are ya jealous?”

“I’m starting to think I made a mistake…” you admit, looking into his eyes. “Help me, Ryu, please. I want to know if there’s still a chance with him.”

He just huffs and shrugs his shoulders.

Realistically there’s not much he can do to help. And you know that. You know how stubborn Rin can be, and what’s worse, he’s so private about his personal life. It used to be you that he was so secretive about. The only pictures on his Instagram profile were ones of you and him.

Just two pictures.

One of your birthday.

Another of your engagement.

They’re both gone, now. It breaks your heart to think about. He might replace them one day with photos of her. The thought of another woman wearing his grandmother’s ring makes anxiety surge through your nerve endings. Your body eases, though, when you feel Ryusei’s protective hold get stronger.

“I’ll find out what I can for you…” he whispers, “Just don’t get your hopes up.”

You nod, closing your eyes peacefully when you feel him place a delicate kiss into your temple. Chigiri looks over at you, shrugging, as if he’s asking for news. But you just shake your head, leaving both of you disappointed.

“Sae doesn’t know anything either.” Chigiri tells you now that you’re finally alone together again in the room you’re sharing. You grunt as you sit down on the bed with him, pouting that your little scheme has failed before it even took flight. “Are we giving up?”

“I guess, what else can we do?” you sigh. It was a noble thought that you’d be able to get some information and find a way to get your fairytale ending, but this is real life. Of course that wasn’t an option. “Anyway, it’s your birthday tomorrow. We should be focusing on that. Sae said he wanted to plan something.”

“We talked about it last night… he suggested going to one of the bars in town.” he explains. “Maybe we could do the secret Santa shopping too. Who did you get?” he wonders.

“Um…” you get off the bed, moving a few things around in the room as you try and recall where you left the jagged piece of cardboard with your recipient’s name written on. You find it in a crumpled pile of last night’s clothes and panties, handing it to Chigiri to read.

“Sae! At least you know him well enough to get something for him.” he smiles, giving it back to you.

“I was hoping I’d get you or Ryusei to be honest… or, never mind.” you speak quietly, regretting wanting to bring Rin up again when you’d tried to change the subject in the first place. “Who did you get?” you wonder.

He smirks, pulling his own piece of cardboard out of his pocket before showing it to you. Your face drops, and he can’t help but laugh, sticking his tongue out as he waves it around teasingly.

Rin.

“Give me it.” you demand. You reach out to grab it, but he snatches it from your reach. “Fucking give me it!” you leap on him, fighting with him as he carries on keeping it away from you.

“You fucking psycho!” he laughs, losing the upper hand as he lowers his hands to hold his aching stomach. “I was gonna give it to you anyway, idiot.”

“This is a gamechanger.” you smile, triumphantly holding the bent and torn piece of cardboard. “He almost kissed me. He was jealous. He made me breakfa—”

“He made everyone breakfast.”

“We’ve got history!” you steal the conversation back from him as he interrupts you, glaring at him with a new determination in your eyes. He watches you as you speak, knowing that you’re definitely onto something. There is so much history between you. And if you can pull of a simple, romantic gesture, he might bare his heart to you again. “Good things always happen on your birthday. I’m more excited than usual.”

“Because it’s my special day and you love me, right?” he rolls his eyes. “Not because you’re scheming to get your ex back.”

“I’m very excited for your special day and I love you very much, Chigs.” you laugh, chubbing his cheeks as you bend down from where you’re standing to tease him. “I’ll give up after this, for real. If he doesn’t want me, fine! But I think there’s still a chance…”

You aren’t sure if that’s entirely true though.

Maybe it’s your imagination.

Maybe it’s just hope.

“Who’s gonna be the designated drivers?” Karasu wonders, scanning around the room as he contemplates who will fill the roles. “We’ll need two, minimum.”

“I don’t mind staying sober.” you pipe up, shrugging and smiling happily. You got wasted on your first night here and, honestly, your stomach is still raw. You look upstairs as you hear a creak of the wood floor, the only person not present is the birthday boy himself. So, your face lights up, eager to finally see him and give him his gifts. “It’s Hyoma’s birthday, so he isn’t driving, decide the rest amongst yourselves.” you tell them as you stand up and rush towards your shared room.

The guys nod, all looking at each other as they try and come to a decision.

“I don’t care.” Rin announces, taking a drink of his coffee. “I’ll drive.”

“We should have one more to be safe,” Sae suggests, and they all groan, disappointed that Rin hadn’t gotten them all off the hook. It’s a choice between five, and none of them seem willing to be gracious enough to offer. “Fine. Let’s draw straws.”

You knock on the door to your room before entering immediately after, a wide grin sprawled across your face.

“Good morning! Happy birthday~!” you squeal, rushing over to your best friend to give him a tight, loving squeeze. He laughs, thanking you gratefully. He watches you as you grab the tall bag full of gifts and hand it to him. “If there’s anything you don’t like, jus’ lemme know and we can return or exchange!” you tell him, and he nods.

Though, as expected, your taste is perfect.

He pulls out each meticulously wrapped gift and is happy with each and every item you’ve gotten him. You’ve gotten the perfect mix of presents for him. Some clothes, accessories, and jewellery you were certain he’d like.

“This must have cost a fortune, you didn’t have to spend so much y’know.” he smiles, happily, holding a designer sweater you’d gotten him with an intricate design. You think nothing of it, though. If you could buy gifts for your atrocious little step siblings, you didn’t mind doing the same for your best friend. “I might wear this today!”

“You should! We’ve just been picking designated drivers.” you inform him. “I’m not drinking tonight, but I told them you aren’t driving since it’s your special day.”

“You aren’t?”

“I want a clear head today… it’s gonna be a long day.” you explain, and he nods. “We’ll probably be leaving soon so we should start getting dressed.” you tell him, standing up and crumpling all of the wrapping paper into a ball. You toss it aside before you decide to sit and start getting ready again.

“I’m gonna say good morning to everyone.” he smiles, waving.

You’re alone in the room, now, thinking about what’s to come. You don’t know how you should wear your hair or do your makeup. You aren’t sure how to dress comfortably for a shopping day whilst simultaneously looking hot enough to go for drinks and party after.

There’s an unnecessary pressure you’re letting weigh down on you. You want to impress Rin. You want to leave an impression. It’s silly, really. He knows you through and through. Every deep, saccharine inch of you, better than anyone else ever will. But here you are, preening yourself for his benefit more than your own.

It feels somewhat in vain, deep down.

Why are you trying to put on a mask for a man that knows you so, so intimately?

“You look really good,” Chigiri comments, leaning across the centre console to whisper in hushed tones. You offer a giddy, accomplished smile as you thank him, Eita and Oliver agree with him as they seem to overhear even over the pop music blasting through the speakers.

Cosy was the right move when you decided on your look for the day, though you may look like you’re heading for a day on some ski slopes rather than shopping and partying.

You’re dressed head to toe in white. Earmuffs, fuzzy coat and boots, and a skin tight jumpsuit. You even have white mittens ready to wear when you get out of the car.

“So… we’re splitting up. Looking for gifts. And then meeting at the bar in a few hours?” you ask the boys, who all nod.

“I already know what I’m getting so I’ll be going straight to the bar when I’m done.” Eita announces.

“Me too.” Oliver tells him, laughing.

You shake your head as you watch them joke around like kids, but with a joyous smile on your face. They must have something simple and generic in mind to be able to purchase their gifts to quickly. Though, knowing them, it’s probably alcohol.

There are butterflies in your stomach as you approach the nearby village town, you look into the rearview mirror to see Rin is still following closely behind.

You wonder how frustrated he is with Ryusei annoying him in the passenger seat.

You take a deep breath as you park, watching him pull up beside you. Everyone gets out quickly, eager to stretch their legs after the thirty-minute drive. You sigh as Rin walks away rapidly; his face buried in his phone without even bothering to say goodbye.

Chigiri shrugs at you, and everyone disperses through the village in different directions.

“I don’t even know where to start…” you confess, looking between each of the cutesy looking stores.

You enter a few, browsing, hoping something will leap out at you. An accessory you know he might like or maybe even a keepsake that might remind him of you whenever he sees it. But it starts to feel hopeless after you leave the 7th little shop you come across.

Otoya and Karasu pass by you, laughing as you enter while they’re leaving.

You dread to think what they’ve bought.

“I bet they’ve bought dirty magazines or something stupid.” Chigiri suspects, shaking his head in amusement as he thinks about how loud they were laughing. You grin, thinking about how the other guys would react to receiving such a scandalous, silly gift.

You try a few more places, and even revisit some others. But you’re about ready to give up as time keeps going on and on. Hyoma hasn’t had much luck finding something for the elder Itoshi sibling, either.

You’re both close to just buying some local sweets and calling it a day.

“Well this has been a disaster,” you huff, “So much for this being a gamechanger!”

“We haven’t been down here yet.” he points to an alleyway with a few more stores.

You enter through the hefty double doors of one, observing what kinds of things they have on the shelves. You’re both immediately excited when you realise you’re in a charity shop. You’re all too familiar with some of the treasures some people give away, some of your favourite outfits are things you’ve found through being thrifty.

“Oh this is perfect!” you beam, looking through each shelf at all of the little trinkets. Chigiri separates from you as he starts sifting through the clothes, wondering if he can find a novelty shirt of some kind as gag gift.

“There are DVDs over here, maybe we should get some to watch if we get bored?” he suggests. “They’re so cheap.”

“Oh cool!” you smile, approaching him to look through the selection together. “Ah! Oh my God, get this for Sae!” you tell him as you pull a DVD down from the shelf and hand it to him. “It’s his favourite!”

“Taxi Driver? Okay.” he scoffs, but keeps hold of it. At the very least, he knows Sae will definitely like it. Though he’s sure if it’s his favourite he probably already owns it in some form. “I’ve never seen it.”

“Every time he tried to make us watch it, I always fell asleep.” you giggle. Your eyes scan across the DVDs as you carry on walking through the shop. And then you realise you’ve walked too far when you see the spines change in height and width. “Oh, CDs!” you speak excitedly as you look through all of the old bands and albums on the shelves.

You grimace in confusion as your eyes settle on a familiar album amongst all of the other more obscure ones. Surely not, you think. But you place your finger on the top and wiggle it out from being suffocated between the rest.

“Hyoma!” you squeal, flipping it for him to see. His eyes drop to see Lana’s Lust for Life album in your hand. He seems confused, though, as his eyes flit between yours and the CD you’re holding. “It’s a sign!”

“Is it?” he asks, sceptically.

“Yes! He got me this on vinyl for my birthday a few years ago!” you explain, and he looks sympathetic rather than supportive. “I— am I being stupid? I was thinking it might remind him of us.”

“No, no, it’s a good idea.” he tells you, holding your shoulders supportively. “Let’s go pay and get to the bar.” he continues, holding a few DVDs in his hands.

You grab your purse, offering to cover everything as the cashier helps you bag everything and rings you up. It’s cheap, and yet, you feel accomplished. You were starting to doubt whether you’d actually be able to find anything for him. If Chigiri hadn’t pointed this place out, you’d be giving him a poxy box of sweets on Christmas morning.

Although, the sweets might be a nice additional gift.

The guys slowly but surely begin filtering into the bar with their shopping bags. You’ve been here with Chigiri for a little while, but Oliver, Tabito and Eita were the first ones here when you arrived.

Ryusei sits down beside you when he comes in next, and Rin isn’t far behind him. Everyone cheers when Sae comes in last, and you can’t help but notice everyone’s shopping bags seem to look similar in some way or another.

“The shops are so dead.” Sae tells you all, and everyone happens to agree.

You aren’t sure what they all expected, though. It’s a small village town in the middle of nowhere. It’s not like you’re in a bustling city with anything and everything at your fingertips. It made shopping more fun, you thought. It gave you the opportunity to really look around until you found something special.

“I’ll get drinks,” Rysuei announces as he stands up. He makes a mental note of what everyone wants, knowing he’ll probably forget when he goes to the bar.

“Move down, Rin, I need to talk to Ryusei.” Sae instructs his little brother. Rin looks at Ryusei’s empty seat, and then at you. It makes your heart race when his pretty teal eyes meet yours. He looks worried, for some reason, but masks it well as he shuffles from his seat to the one closer to you.

Your eyes wander as they meet Sae’s, and he winks at you casually.

Hyoma never did tell you what he and Sae talked about, only that he couldn’t get any information, either. But from this simple act, it seems Hyoma has revealed your true feelings for his brother to him.

And you’re happy.

Because this small gesture indicates that you have his support.

You don’t say anything, not right away, as he settles down beside you. You’re surprised he isn’t toying with his phone like he has been endlessly since he got here. It makes your throat tighten to think he might be doing it so that you don’t see his texts with his new girlfriend.

“How did shopping go?” you ask him, hoping to break the ice and stop yourself from spiralling about a woman you don’t even know the name of.

“Fine, I think,” he tells you. “I think everyone’s gonna be disappointed with what they get.”

“I don’t know… it’s part of the fun.” you reply. “If we wanted to go all out, we would have planned to do this before we got here so we could order perfect, expensive things. But having a little budget and no idea was a change of pace.”

“What did you buy?” he wonders.

“I got some sweets to eat when we get back.” you smile. It makes him smile, too, causing you to giggle like a schoolgirl. You hadn’t expected to see his face change like that because of something you said. It’s warm, thawing away at your frozen heart.

“Happy birthday, Chigiri.” Ryusei says as he gives your best friend his drink first. You already know that Hyoma isn’t going to have to pay for a single drink himself while he’s here, it’s everyone’s birthday offering to him. Rin doesn’t pay Ryusei any mind as he sits down in his previous seat, too busy focusing on chatting with you.

It makes you feel special.

It makes you feel wanted.

“Rin?” you whisper, leaning over to him. He looks at you, a serious expression on his face as he senses your desperation. You’re trying not to be so needy, but you just can’t help it. “… I’m glad you decided to come along.”

It’s not what you wanted to say and not what he expected to hear. Although, you aren’t sure what you actually do want to say to him. Telling him you still harbour feelings will surely only end in tears when you know you can’t have him.

He isn’t yours anymore.

“Yeah? Well, it hasn’t been as painful as I expected it to be.” he tells you. And even that, such a simple, sulky sentence makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe it’s because you know it’s oh so quintessentially Rin Itoshi. “You did scare me, when I saw you on the stairs.”

“You scared me too…” you admit. “I—”

“It happened, it’s fine. We’re fine.” he tells you, taking a sip of the lemonade Ryusei had ordered for him. You decided to stick to water, the freezing ice cubes bump against your lips as you drink heartily. “I heard Otoya go into your room the other night. After we— talked.”

“Nothing happened…” you respond, drinking more water to cover how your expression fills with shame and regret. He nods, understanding. “S-So, your girlfriend. Tell me about her…” you ask, reluctantly. And you’re a little surprised when he shakes his head.

“I’m not doing this,” he speaks. “We’re fine. I’m being civil. You aren’t entitled to know about my personal life just because I’m tolerating you.”

“Tolerating me? Really?”

“Yes, tolerating you.” he continues. “You lost the right to know about me when you left.”

“God, Rin, I barely knew you then.” you huff, crossing one leg over the other as you slightly angle your back to him. He puts his arm around the back of your seat and positions himself awful close. It startles you when you turn back to face him.

“What are you talking about?” he asks.

“You were so distant. All you cared about was football.” you inform him, doing your best to keep your voice lowered so that you don’t make a scene. The last thing you wanted was to ruin your best friend’s birthday because you had a momentary lapse of judgement.

Maybe exes are exes for a reason.

“Because it’s my job? My career.”

“And I have a career too, but I still remembered to ask how your day was. You stopped talking to me unless it was about our schedules.”

“You—” he huffs, moving away from you. You’re a little taken aback when he stands up with the intention of leaving. He pulls out some money and tells Hyoma to get himself a drink, on him, as a birthday gift.

Everyone looks a little lost for words when he ups and leaves. But then there’s a sigh of relief when they remembered they appointed Karasu to be another designated driver.

It’s not sitting right with you, though.

It almost felt like you were close to a breakthrough. You were getting into the nitty gritty of why your relationship fell apart in the first place, and, as usual, he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. You gather your things and decide to chase after him, knowing you can’t leave things like this.

You won’t even be able to call yourselves friends if you don’t figure this out.

“You’re stalking me, now?” Rin chuckles as he ducks into Sae’s car and locks the door. You try knocking on the window for him to let you in, but you’re speechless when he just drives off instead.

You fumble with the keys to Chigiri’s car until you manage to unlock it.

He’s not running away from you again.

As much as he wanted to break the speed limit to escape you, there was no point. You knew he was heading home so you’d find him eventually. Besides, he didn’t want to risk either of you slipping on the ice and winding up dead.

So he kept to a steady pace, enjoying the thirty minutes of peace on the drive down to the cabin before what he could only assume would be a shouting match between the two of you.

“Rin!” you yell as you get out of the car, slamming the door. It would make him laugh if he wasn’t so frustrated, you always did prove him right about things like this. He gets out of Sae’s car and slams the door, not even bothering to look at you as he walks up the stairs to the cabin.

He unlocks the door with ease before strutting in. It’s hard to keep up with his long strides, especially in the wet, slippery snow. You do what you can to speed after him, even taking the stairs two at a time so that you can get inside quicker.

You spot him in the kitchen as if nothing had happened. He’s standing by the kettle as he boils some water to make tea. He looks at you, casually, before looking back at the steam gently rising through the spout.

“You’re so childish? How didn’t I realise how fucking childish you are on top of everything?!” you shout as you walk over to the platform that separates the kitchen from the entryway. He still looks intent on keeping his mouth shut. And it’s making you crazy. “Will you say something?”

“What do you want?” he retorts, instantly. He looks at you briefly before pouring the water into a novelty Christmas mug. It’s tacky and hideous and you’re sure he hates it, but it must have been the first thing he saw to use. He leans back against the counter behind him while he uses a spoon to press the flavour from the tea bag.

“I— tell me you hate me, call me a bitch, I don’t know!” you demand. “I hate this tension, Rinnie, because every time I think things are okay, you freeze up and it’s—”

“I can’t tell if you’re… joking?” he smirks. “You, literally, broke my heart with no explanation. I’ve spent months trying to move on and then you show up out of nowhere and you’re trying to be best friends. I don’t want to be friends with you.”

“So what do you want?!”

“I want you to leave me alone.” he raises his voice, and it’s harsh. But instead of hurting you, it makes you angrier. You blood boils as you round the counter to get closer to him as he speaks. He puts down the tea he made as you get closer, using hand gestures wildly as he talks to get his point across. “You shouldn’t have come here. Because you shouldn’t have been keeping in touch with my family after we broke up. It’s such a fucking red line, it’s violating.”

“Oh, well, fuck me for wanting to know how you’re doing after everything. You know, since you completely cut me off. I was worried and you wouldn’t even text me to tell you when you were coming to get your stuff!”

“This is your problem,” he wags his finger with a smile before holding it to his lips as he thinks of how to tell you exactly how he feels. “You’re so fucking entitled. I’m being nice to you after you hurt me, and you think you deserve to know me again.”

“No, this is your problem!” you bite back, walking away from him before closing the gap again. You look up at him with watery eyes as he towers over you. Your heart aches as you feel the distance between you expand the more you talk about the past. But it has to happen. Even if you lose him forever, you can’t carry all of this pain with you forever. “You shut people out when they care! I want you to be happy and I want us to be friends, but you won’t talk to me! I broke up with you because when you were neglecting me, I felt lonelier than I did when I was actually alone.”

“I didn’t neglect you, I loved you. What was really the problem? Huh?” he asks, getting closer to you. And you have to crane your neck just to keep eye contact with him. He can’t ignore how glittery your eyes are as you hold back tears. You’re covering your sadness with rage, that much is clear to him. But he doesn’t want to stop. Not now, not when you’ve driven him to the point of no return with your incessant complaints. “I was too busy for you, yeah? You didn’t miss me, missed me taking you on fancy dates so you had something to brag about on Instagram.”

“… fuck you.” you say, quietly, your voice gets trapped in your throat as you try and figure out how to pull away from this confrontation with your dignity intact. It’s too late though. He’s already witnessed a lone tear fall down your cheek. “Do you hate me that much? Do you think that little of me?”

He doesn’t.

“Princess…” he sighs, tilting your head up with his thumb and forefinger so that you’re fixated on his eyes. Teal whirlpools with flecks of turquoise that create a scintillating visage that cannot be described by a mere mortal. No, they are deep lagoons that you want to drown in. They soften as he names you the only way you’d want to be named by him. Not your birth name, but as royalty. His princess. “I don’t think about you at all.”

Your heart shatters and he sees so clearly how your vision breaks. Should you keep looking at him or somewhere else entirely. His face is stoic, as usual, though he cups your face like you’re precious. Like you are the princess you want to believe you are, for him.

The energy in your body has depleted and you can’t even bring yourself to push him away. All you have is words. And, even then, you’re drawing a blank. So you sink, deep. Lower than the depths of hell to truly muster three little words you simply don’t mean.

“I hate you.”

He doesn’t react, not fully. But the colour of his eyes dull as the words reach his ears.

“I fucking despise you.” he retorts.

You do nought but stare.

Both of you.

You just stand there, indignantly staring into each other’s eyes as you process the situation. Your chest heaves and your body trembles with fury. You didn’t mean it, not really. In this moment, you suppose you do hate him a little. But you’ll never know if Rin means it.

Part of you assumes he’s only saying it to hurt you like you hurt him. He said what you said but increased the severity of his words just to twist the knife into your bloodied heart. But maybe he does truly feel this way. Maybe he’s felt nothing but disdain towards you since you broke up with him all of those months ago.

Why would he feel anything positive when it comes to you?

Especially since he’s moved on.

“I hate you, Rinnie…” you reiterate, lip wobbling as your tears spill more and more.

“I don’t believe you.” he says, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

You scan his face, and he doesn’t move an inch. It gives you pause for a moment as you contemplate what you’re feeling. But there are no thoughts in your brain, it’s silent. Blood pumps through you, and emotions overtake you as you lunge forward.

The distance between you is gone as you press your lips against his. He doesn’t tease you, this time. He doesn’t pull away. He kisses you back. You feel his hands explore your body, large palms settling in the slopes of your waist before they lower to your thighs.

You could never hate him.

His hands on your body make you feel whole again. He himself can barely believe how lovestruck you are in the way that you moan softly and breathe deeply from just his hands roaming your body. He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he deposits you on the countertop.

You lose yourself to loving squeezes and open-mouthed kisses as he grinds his hips between your spread legs, his tea long since abandoned in favour or tormenting what he knows to be your intricate, sopping flesh.

“You hate me, baby?” he asks, mumbling against your glossy, drooling lips. “S’that right? You hate me? Say it again, princess, say you hate me.”

“D— Don’t—!” you tell him, lips too eager to be smothered by his to answer him properly. You’re worried a truth might stray from your loose lips while you’re with him like this. You fight it, you really fight it. “I hate you, so much. R-Rinnie…” you tell him, and it feels honest. You’re substituting one word for another, and it feels so powerful as you lie to him with ease. He doesn’t stop, though.

If anything, everything intensifies.

“Yeah?” he asks, licking the tip of his tongue against yours tormentingly. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “I’ll stop, then.”

“No, please,” you beg and it’s downright pathetic. Your own hips roll to meet his movements. You hump against each other pitifully, the desperation and friction being enough to leave you heady and delirious and most of all satisfied that it’s thanks to Rin Itoshi. “Don’t stop, please.” you whimper, attaching your lips to his as he continues.

Your poignant words lead him to growl against your skin. It’s so primal. So territorial as he pushes your jacket off your shoulders and down your arms. You help him in his efforts to take it off, shoving it until it slides and puddles on the ground.

“God I missed you.” you hear him mumble against your skin. Your heart beats faster as you feel him caress every inch of your body, hands resting on the swell of your tits as he thinks about what he wants to do to you.

You feel your truth being coaxed out of you with each passing second. Every ingratiating word the is meticulously embedded from his tongue and into your brain makes you desperate to tell him how you really feel and beg that he feels the same.

“Rinnie, I—”

His entire hand smothers the lower half of your face. There’s a worry in his eye as his body tenses up. And still, he can’t stop himself. He carries on humping his heavy bulge into your clothed cunt at a snail’s pace, panicked eyes turning heavy and filled with lust as he looks at how needy you are.

“Shh, baby,” he tells you, showing no signs of moving his hand.

“I can’t believe they ditched us.” you both hear a familiar voice muffled from outside. You aren’t sure why you care, but soon enough you’re both scrambling to be away from each other. You put your jacket back on after gathering it from the ground, both of you doing your best to act cool. “Here you are! What the fuck?” Tabito exclaims.

You can’t look.

Neither of you know why you’re so ashamed. So humiliated that you’d almost been caught hooking up. It’s not like it would be so scandalous, is it? You’ve made it very clear that you still have feelings for him, and yet, you don’t want anyone to know about this.

He’s the same, though, doing all he can to maintain composure.

He looks calm.

But you know him.

His eyes are blown. Full of lust and anxiety as he tries to control his breathing. No one else would notice, but you see how heavy his controlled breaths are. He gulps, scratching the back of his neck before looking around.

“I’ll get the others,” Rin tells Tabito, who can only shrug at his words.

Only Chigiri and Sae had returned with Karasu, the rest deciding to wait in the bar until someone decided to come and collect them. Tabito thought he’d have to do a return trip, not expecting Rin to spare him from repeating the journey once again. But once he has the all clear, he kicks off his shoes and sprawls on the couch.

Chigiri stares at you, and you can’t even look him in the eye for more than a second.

Why are you brimming with shame?

He almost sobers up at the sight of you. You look so vacant and dazed. It’s hard to look at him when you feel like this. Every attempt to do so, every forced little smile, only makes his concern grow. He walks towards you, but just as abruptly, he stops.

Rin walks behind you, caging your body beneath him as he traps you against the kitchen island. He doesn’t notice Chigiri staring, and he can’t look away. You turn your head a little, but not much. You’re eager to look at Rin but he levels his mouth with your ear. His breathing is laboured yet soft, and your skin pinches together as it carries through your body.

“I could never hate you, princess.” he whispers. He leaves you alone with that sentence without so much as a glance. He holds the keys to his brother’s car and heads for the exit. Chigiri watches him walk by before looking at you again. Sae looks at you both, briefly. He too is curious as to what is going on.

“That looked intense.” Hyoma speaks, finally getting close enough to have a conversation with you. You smile, and it’s feeble, but it’s all you can do as you try to think of an excuse to give him. Maybe he didn’t mean what he said about missing you. Tensions were high, after all. He has a girlfriend to think about, of course he feels ashamed. Of course, he wants to pretend this little lapse of judgement didn’t occur. “Did something happen?” your best friend asks.

“We just argued.” you lie.

You never lie to Chigiri, though you’re sure you’ll tell him once you get your bearings. You need to find out what’s going on with Rin. It’s hard to talk about something you don’t understand. You’re sure he’ll be sympathetic once you have your story straight.

You just need to talk to Rin.

You need some assurance.

You need to know where you stand.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed early.” you tell him, giving him a hug before walking away. “Happy birthday, Chigs!”

“… okay.” he looks at you, hugging you back. “I’ll try and be quiet so I don’t wake you.”

“Goodnight.” you wave, ascending the stairs and out of his line of sight.

An early night was never an option. You knew that, and Hyoma probably knew it, too.

All you did when you got to your room was scroll through Instagram. You took some time to reply to some texts you’d received from family asking how your trip was going. You hammed it up, of course, not letting slip that Rin happened to be here too.

They all called you stupid for ending things with him.

It felt right at the time. But hindsight is a wonderful thing.

You weren’t ready to deal with re-opening that wound only to hear ‘I told you so’ repeatedly.

You heard Rin get home with the other guys, though they all stayed downstairs.

It’s all the more humiliating when you think about how desperately you want Rin to appear. You need him to come and get you, and not just to pick up where you left off.

You want answers.

Though you suppose you won’t be getting them tonight.

You spent a few hours trying on different outfits and following along with makeup tutorials from YouTube before getting bored. The raucous sounds of laughter and music got louder when you walked across the hall to take a shower and wash your face clean.

The floorboards begin to creak in the direction of the stairs when you get out.

And it scares you.

You rush across the hallway and back into your room. Your hand flies to your chest, adrenaline ravishes your heart as you lean backwards against the locked door. It makes you feel vulnerable, right now. No matter who it is, you feel scared of being seen.

Your heart stops when you hear a knock at the door.

It isn’t repeated.

Just one, singular, knock.

It makes your breathing stutter and stop abruptly. You don’t dare answer, not when you’re naked, save for the towel. It could be any one of the seven men you’re sharing the house with this week. But deep down, you know.

You know who’s on the other side of that door.

The steps retreat, and your breathing calms.

Was it him? Was that really Rin Itoshi on the other side of your door? You wait until you can barely hear the steps anymore before you unlock the barrier between you and him. When the door opens, you step out, sheepishly.

He looks at you from down the hall. Those eyes of his, full of pain and longing as he stares back at you with the same intensity you’re offering him. He doesn’t speak, but he goes into his room, so you go back into yours.

You let your towels hit the floor, crumpling up in a mess as you look for some nightwear and a hairbrush. It’s like a race against time, or at least that’s how it feels as you quickly try to brush through your sopping hair.

Every passing minute feels like it’s expanding the gulf between the two of you. So you want to hurry, it needs to be resolved now.

You barely even close the door when you walk out and jog down the hall to his room. It’s hard to be quiet when you feel such urgency to see him. You hope your footsteps aren’t too loud. And you hope nobody can hear over the music where you are and what you’re doing.

It’s all you can do.

And so, you knock, quietly, waiting for him to let you in. Too much time passes. Minutes feel like hours as you wait for him to answer. Your body feels cold, wet droplets decorate your skin and your hair drips down your spine. It feels like a mistake that you came. But why would he knock if he hadn’t wanted this to happen? Maybe he regrets this, too, as well as what happened downstairs.

It hurts to think about.

But he answers, and of your anxiety leaves you like a deflating balloon. Though you’re stilled, before him, and he doesn’t move aside. It makes your worries return as if it were a cat preparing to pounce on a rat. You widen your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. It happens again and again… and again until you realise, you’re choked up.

You can’t say a thing.

So, you don’t.

You get closer to him, still trying to say something. Anything. But nothing comes out, even when you’re close enough to feel his heartbeat. You just stare at each other in his doorway, openly exposed to anyone who may decide to ascend the stairs.

“I— I missed you too, Rinnie.”

His eyes soften at your sensitivity. The way that you have no qualms in making yourself susceptible to a painful rejection.

He lets you in, kicking the door behind himself before leaning back on it.

“You missed me, huh?” he speaks, his head droops backwards until there’s a gentle thud against the wooden door. His eyes are so heavy, his gaze is narrow. And still you can’t help but seek love and comfort from him as he looks at your with such disdain. “Are you sure you aren’t just jealous because you can’t have me?”

His words are hurtful, regardless of how valid of a question it is. It’s possible, sure, but it feels like more than that. You knew when you ended things that it was the right decision. But now it feels like a mistake, something rash you did in the heat of the moment. You didn’t give him a chance. You didn’t give either of you a chance.

And now, despite everything, you want to.

“You said you missed me…” you tell him, meekly, “I mean it, Rin. Did you mean it?”

He doesn’t say anything, he just stares. You always hated it when he did this, and it feels worse now, somehow. His eyes are terrifying and yet you can’t stop staring back at him. They’re piercing, like icicles falling from a height and impaling you without remorse.

“Rin…” you speak, closing the distance between you again. Your breath hitches as you approach, shaky hands reach out to rest on his chest, and you swallow before speaking once more. “Rinnie.”

He grabs your wrists and spins you around, pinning you against the door behind you. Your heart rate is rapid, and his isn’t much better. You’re staring again, but you bite your tongue.

Your lips meet as his crash against your own. He lifts you up, just as he had hours prior, and carries you to his bed. Your breathing is heavy, you pant furiously as you roll your hips against him in a bid to alleviate the tension that has been brewing since early evening. He drops you down on the bed, his body smothers yours as he lies on top of you.

His hips roll into your soaking core, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth.

“I meant what I said,” he tells you before silencing himself with another kiss. “Fuckin’ missed you.” he wraps his arm around your back and lifts your body further up the bed with ease, determined to get your head comfortable in the pillows.

You wince as he strips you of your pyjama bottoms and peels away your panties from your dripping cunt. It’s too dark to see you, but it’s enough. The way the moonlight bleeds through his windows turns your petalled flesh into a galaxy. Between your legs lies a constellation of the prettiest stars, and there’s nothing more that he needs.

He pulls his sweater over his head, discarding it somewhere unknown as if it means nothing. It’s true, in this moment. Nothing matters but being intimately bare with each other.

Your cunt, his cunt, is committed to memory. He could recognise how your intimate folds feel among others even if blindfolded. Because you were made for him. Of this, he’s sure. Your cunt belongs to him, and you would have done well to remember that.

“I can’t wait, princess,” he explains, and you nod in understanding.

“Please, fuck me, I can’t wait anymore. Rinnie I c—can’t.”

“Shhhh,” he whispers, freeing his cock just enough from their confines to line his length up with you. You sob when you feel his pretty tip catch against your hole. And he coos so sweetly as he teases you with that feeling. Your pretty tears are like diamonds dripping from your eyes as the blinding moonlight ignites them. “I’ve always given you whatever you want, I’m not gonna stop now.” he tells you.

It's the only warning you get before he pushes into you. He sinks slowly until you’re filled up to the brim and you’re sure you can feel him in your throat. It’s like nothing has changed. Every ridge and vein feels so familiar, you’ve never known a feeling better than you know this one. A ribald dance that only the two of you know.

His tip kisses your gooey insides in the most delectable way. Just as it always had in those ethereal nights you spent with him throughout your relationship. He holds your jaw with one hand, and it’s rough. A commanding force that’s imploring you to indulge him in this.

Give him your everything, mind body and soul. He can see how your eyes want to wander. They want to stray and abandon him just like you had months ago. But he’s doing this for you, he thinks you should understand that.

The least you owe him is your loving eyes on his.

Your love is trapped in your throat as you force it to stay there. His eyes are so beautiful and his body feels like you’re home again. You want to tell him, it’s making you cry even more. You can’t help but wonder if that’s enough, alone. If he can see the love you’re pouring into the tears you shed, will he understand what you’re so scared to convey?

He surprises you, however, as he spills himself inside of you after a few deep strokes. It snaps you away from your panicked mind as you feel warmth fill you. And that feels like love, to you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” he tells you, stopping you from replying with a bruising kiss. “I don’t want to stop.” he pushes your little vest up your body until your tits spring free.

You moan beautifully as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, gently caressing the raised bud with his tongue. A gentle yet rough hand delicately pushes your tensing legs apart from each other, not caring in the least if his seed drips onto the sheets below. You gasp as you feel two fingers circle your sticky clit.

“Rinnie…” you whimper.

“I know.” he breaths against your damp nipple, his breath warms your skin before he sinks two heavy fingers into your needy heat. He humps his leaking, coated cock against your side as his length softens slowly. His rutting is in tandem with his fingers prodding your cum coated walls.

Your fingers run through his hair as he continues to suckle on your tits, your second-hand flies to join the first as he alternates from one nipple to the other. And he groans as you tug at his Sacramento coloured locks. The more time you’re with him like this, the more you begin to slip into old habits.

“Think I— f-fuck… Rin.” you mutter, moving your hand to grip the sheets below as he brings you to a tantalizing edge.

“Go on, princess,” he whispers into your pretty skin. “Show me how much you miss me.”

The coil snaps at his silver tongue and salacious language. He never had to try hard to convince you to submit to his commands in the past. Always so eager to please and starved for his touch. You could never get enough of him, and you’ve never been like that with a man before. He makes you greedy, and impatient.

So when he says jump, you show him how high you’re prepared to go for him.

He makes you look at him as you orgasm. Teal eyes, still somehow so radiant even in darkness, hold a neediness you haven’t seen in a long time. You cum, hard, dousing his fingers in your juices as he carries on finger fucking his cum deeper into your insides. And you feel him kiss you. It’s sloppy and pornographic as you swap spit and still moan into his mouth as he drags and pulls every trace of your orgasm from you.

You pant, relaxing your body as the tryst comes to a satisfying end.

“That was amaz—”

“I told you, I’m not ready to stop yet.” he tells you.

He sensually kisses and sucks your neck, though you’re certain it isn’t hard enough to stake his claim on you. He wouldn’t need to, anyway. You both know who you belong to, after all. You watch him as he leaves a trail of kisses down your body. His lips pepper across your collarbone before kissing between the fat of your breasts.

His shushing hits your ears as his mouth comes close to your pussy. His breath fans across your sex, and you feel just how weighty each breath is as he admires your glistening folds as if for the first time.

He gently moves one of your legs to rest over his shoulder, while he pushes the other one into your chest.

His tongue darts out, caressing your exposed clit as he keeps your legs far from each other. Your head falls back into the pillows as the angle makes you delirious. He looks up to see your facial expressions, smirking into your heat when he notices how much you’re enjoying him.

“Rinnie—” you moan, though you’re ultimately ignored. “Rin. Please!” you cry, begging for a bit of reprieve.

“You know what I want.” he tells you, quietly.

You don’t know, not until he frees your leg and sinks his fingers into your heat again. And they curl. It’s devilish and titillating and you just about scream from the feeling. You don’t tell him to stop, though. You wouldn’t dream of it. His arm wraps firmly around your thigh and keeps you fixed in place as you try to flee. But you’re trapped, fated to fall from a height until he’s satisfied.

“Let me see it,” he whispers. Your moans become strident as he digs and teases your spongy interior, searching for what’s rightfully his. He’s there. He’s right there. His jaw hangs low as your toes curl violently, and you make a sloppy mess as you cum perversely. “Goooood girl, good fucking girl. That’s how I like to see my pretty baby cum, jus’ like that.” he grins before slurping up your orgasm. Your pussy gushes like a fountain for him, and it’s everything he’s wanted and needed for months now.

He doesn’t care about getting a little wet.

He couldn’t care less that the front of his hair is almost as soaking as yours.

You hadn’t noticed while you were experiencing the bliss that is Rin Itoshi’s tongue, but he’s been rutting his length pathetically into the mattress as he devours your essence. Each lewd slurp and divine suckle, he’d been grinding his aching cock into the plush mattress below you both.

And he still is.

Pearly pre drools from his slit as he carries on, though he isn’t sure he can stop. But when your cunt stops twitching, he finds the will to proceed. He rests his hands on both of your knees as you put your legs together, waiting to see what he wants to do with you next.

He rakes his fingers through his damp locks, and your cunt flutters at the sight of him pushing his hair back. It flops back into place as he comes down to kiss you again. You wrap your arms around his back, and he moves your body with his until you’re straddling him.

“Rin, I—”

He doesn’t let you finish as he kisses you. His cock is standing to attention for you again, and he needs to be buried inside. You feel him line his length up, and he covers your mouth with his hand as you attempt to screech out in paradisical bliss as he fills you again.

“Let me do the work,” he tells you, and you nod. “But put your hand here,” he requests, grabbing your wrist until your hand envelops his neck.

You’re worried about falling backwards as he sits with you on top on the edge of his bed. But your safety doesn’t come into question as his fingers sink into your hips to keep you secure. You cry, whimper, and whine as you feel him fuck up into you.

He rewards you with harder and deeper strokes when you softly squeeze the sides of his neck, cock twitching pathetically as he realises how enamoured he is with you still.

“You’re so fucking perfect for me.” he tells you, eyes rolling back until they turn white. The gentle squeeze of your little fingers will always be his undoing.

“Rinnie I—”

“D-Don’t.” he requests, hips stuttering as the thought of you saying what he thinks you’re about to makes him spiral. His heart rate reaches heights he wasn’t sure was possible as he hopes you aren’t about to ruin this. Ruin whatever this even is.

“I love you.” you cry, “I love you s-so much.”

“Fuck,” he pants, slowing ever so slightly so he doesn’t cum before you get to again. He tucks your hair behind your ear. His hips roll and his defined body perfectly stimulates your throbbing clit. “I love you.” he confesses, quietly, kissing you sweetly after the fact.

“Nngh, fuck—!” you wince, your walls tighten around him as you start to feel yourself coming undone once again. So he fucks into you, hard, eager to help you along. “’m cumming, aah!”

You can only assume how red and sweaty his face is as he fucks into you with a passion and vigour you’ve never felt from him before. He has an unyielding need to please and remind you how much he had loved you with every deep, unrelenting stroke.

You cum with him.

And it’s transcendent.

“Did you mean it, princess?” he asks, heavy breaths huffing across your dewy skin. “Do you love me?”

“… Yes, Rinnie—” you pause. “I still love you…”

He kisses your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your torso and holds you close. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was worried to let you go. He lies back and keeps you pressed firmly against him. He plays with your hair as you rest on him. Contentment seems to fill the room as you do nothing but lie like this together. There isn’t a sound other than exhausted breaths and beating hearts.

“I should shower and change the sheets.” he muses into your hair; it only causes you to snuggle further into him. “You should shower with me.”

“I’d like that.” you smile, giddy over the idea of seeing him under artificial lighting and witnessing how his expressions really change when he’s with you intimately.

There’s a niggling feeling, though. That everything is too good to be true. You’re sure this is real, but you have a fleeting thought of being asleep in your bedroom after saying you’d go to bed early. His heart beating against your cheek feels real, though. So does his bare flesh and gentle touch.

Everything is too perfect, though.

You wonder when the bubble will burst.

386 notes · View notes

angelfic · 2 years

Text

— OOPS, I LOVE YOU. S.H.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: the 4 times you’re just best friends and the 1 time you’re not. alternatively, 5 things never to do with someone unless you want to fall in love.

warnings: kissing, swearing, mentions of drinking, throwing up from drinking, pretty much pg-13 fluff otherwise

author’s note: inspired by a tiktok sent to me by my lovely anon who is the whole reason I wrote this little thing until 5am in the morning lol, enjoy and let me know what u think as always <3

1. when he does that reverse driving thing.

Listen. You at least have the decency to feel a little bad about it. But you can’t help it! Steve may be your best friend, but damn it, you are not immune to the one hand on the steering wheel, one arm on your seat while reversing the car thing that instantly makes any guy more attractive.

A lot more attractive.

So attractive that you momentarily forget the reason he’s driving in the first place, which is to get the kids to the new arcade that opened up just on the outskirts of Hawkins. And you’re supposed to be giving him directions.

Feeling someone’s eyes on you, you turn a little to the back and find Dustin, squished between Lucas and Will, with a shit-eating grin on his face as his gaze flickers from you to Steve. You furrow your brows in a false display of confusion before turning back to your map, as though you don’t know that all the kids believe you and your best friend are harbouring feelings for each other.

Definitely not true, obviously.

You don’t even notice that the map is about to rip at the corners from your grip as you try and ignore the kids whispering in the back. That is until you feel a finger gently prodding your arm and you realise Steve has been asking you a question.

“What?” you ask, stupidly. And a little breathlessly, because there is absolutely no reason for Steve to be smiling like that. “Did you say something?”

“Just wondering if it’s straight ahead or left here,” he gestures in front to the road and you frantically search the map for where you lost your place. Definitely not helped by the whispering in the back getting louder. “You okay?”

“Fine!” you say, a little too quickly. “It’s, uh, left.”

“Thanks,” Steve mutters, glancing up into the rearview mirror and frowning. “Keep it down, you’re distracting Y/N, you little freaks.”

“Aw, they’re just excited, Stevie,” you laugh, and when Steve turns his eyes back to the road, it’s your turn to glare at them through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, we’re just excited Stevie,” Max teases, clearly unperturbed by the underlying threat.

Her words set off the others and you smile sweetly before turning to Steve. “Hey, you wanna drive back, drop the kids off and catch a movie?”

They all yell in unison; a mix of ‘no’, ‘please’ and ‘we’ll shut up’. Satisfied, you sit back in your seat and look at your map again, to avoid any involuntarily reaction to Steve smiling at you.

Yeah, the kids have no idea what they’re talking about.

2. when he lets you cut his hair

“Harrington, are you fucking with me right now?”

“Wha- No!” Steve sits up from his previous position with his head in your lap as you played with his hair, the two of you watching some lame comedy movie. “I mean, you don’t have to do it, but since you were offering…” he trails off as he gets up to grab another bottle of water and you take the time to compose yourself.

When he comes back, you immediately start in on him. “So, you’re actually being serious about me cutting… your hair.”

“What’s the big deal?” he asks, the question sounding muffled by the enormous handful of popcorn he just stuffed into his mouth. “You cut Max’s hair the other day, didn’t you?”

You scoff, looking at him incredulously. “Max wouldn’t have cared if I had given her the same haircut as Will,” you emphasise. “You- You’re… you’re Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington!”

“Ah, yes, my government name,” Steve says sarcastically. “But, I mean, it’s you. I trust you to cut my hair. Just don’t give me the same haircut as Will and we’ll be fine.”

A huge grin threatens to break free and you find that you physically can’t stop it. “You really trust me that much?” You nudge him with your leg from the other side of the couch and he rolls his eyes, but the pink tint of his cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed. “Aw, you old softie. Alright, get up.”

“Wha- We’re doing it now?” his head snaps up at you, hand reaching halfway to the popcorn bowl. You move it to the side and grab his hand to start dragging him to his bathroom.

“You can’t take it back now, Steve. Binding verbal contract,” you declare dramatically and sit him down on the closed toilet seat, legs spread apart for you to stand between.

As you reach for the scissors in the cabinet above his head, Steve places his hands on either side of your waist as a reflex action to steady you while you search. “I wasn’t gonna take it back, I was just invested in the movie,” he mumbles, dangerously close to your stomach which causes his breath to fan across the tiny strip of exposed skin from where your pyjama shirt has ridden up.

If it weren’t for you trying to steady your own breathing, you’d have noticed Steve’s was slightly shaky. Quickly grabbing the scissors that are finally in view, you find yourself level with Steve who looks up at you, hands still on your waist. He keeps them there even while you set a towel around his neck.

The bastard winks at you. Raising a brow, you hold up the scissors threateningly and you swear he turns a little paler.

“Relax,” you snort, stepping away from Steve to get the water in the sink running. His hand trails down your leg, light as a feather as he’s reluctant to let go. He’s always been touchy with you, and you with him. You’ve always thought it was normal best friend behaviour growing up.

Even as you wash his hair, running your fingers through the soft strands, his eyes flutter shut and you think about how natural this is for your dynamic.

And yet, ever since you and Steve became the unofficial babysitters for a bunch of kids who seem to be convinced that Steve is in love with you and you’re in love with him, you second guess everything about your friendship.

You can’t help but consider that maybe it isn’t normal for you to hate every girl Steve has ever gone out with, or for him to point out every flaw in the guys who go out with you to the point where you end up cancelling on every one of them.

Or for you to compare every guy you do end up going out with to your best friend…

Damn kids, putting ideas in your head.

“You’ve been a little too quiet,” Steve cracks an eye open, squinting up at you through wet hair. “You’re not planning on balding me are you?”

“Scared you’ll lose the source of all your powers?” you ask him in mock concern. “One wrong snip and there goes your endless chain of girls.”

“All except you,” Steve fires back, shaking the wet strands of hair in your face, making you gasp.

You grab the towel around his neck to swat at him, but he grabs the other end and tugs at it, making you stumble and use his shoulder for support.

He smiles at you, guilt-free and you think about how your best friend has one of the prettiest smiles in the world.

And so you push yourself off before you find your mind venturing into dangerous territory.

“Well, I say it’s time to test that theory out,” you reply, clearing your throat and picking up the scissors again. “You better be feeling fortunate it’s me holding these scissors of all people.”

“Oh, I am.”

3. when he holds back your hair

“Ooooh, thanks for the haircut, Y/N,” you groan out in your best imitation of Steve’s voice as he hauls you into the bathroom of whoever the hell’s house you’re in. “I love my hair soooo much. Let’s go to a party so everyone can see my hair. Then you can get so drunk you feel like you’re going to die.”

“I didn’t force the alcohol down your throat!” Steve exclaims, sitting down with you on the floor by the toilet, lifting up the seat and helping you lean over it. The guilt in his voice contradicts his words heavily. “Hey, wait, let me tie your hair up first.”

He gathers your hair up in one hand and uses his teeth to take off the hair tie he keeps on his other wrist for you.

If it weren’t for the nausea, your stomach might have swooped for a completely different reason.

“You know damn well that I don’t go to these parties, Steve,” you try to take deep breaths to keep the vomiting at bay while he ties your hair. “Because every time you force me to, the whole entire population apparently wants to talk to you, so I get all bored and end up drinking half the alcohol on the premises without realising!”

“I’m sorry,” he soothes, keeping your ponytail out of the way as your body decides it can’t keep the sickness at bay. “It’s okay, babe. You’re fine, I got you.”

It’s while Steve grabs you tissue after tissue and cleans you up unflinchingly, that you realise maybe he isn’t just your totally platonic childhood best friend.

The scowl on your face, which is actually directed at the universe for putting you in this situation of all things to realise your feelings, gets misinterpreted by Steve who pouts at you, hand resting on your cheek.

“I’m gonna take you home and you can stay over and I’ll stay with you all night in case you throw up again and you can pick the movie for tomorrow’s movie night and the next month’s worth of movie nights, okay?” Steve implores, eyes wide and pleasing with you.

“Okay,” you whisper, no argument left in you. Partly because of the vomiting, mostly because you’re trying to process all these feelings while drunk and exhausted. You slump against his chest and he holds you there. “Thanks, Stevie.”

“Anything for you.”

You’re definitely fucked.

4. when he cooks you breakfast

“Pass the knife,” Steve calls over his shoulder to where you’re sat on the opposite kitchen counter. His voice makes you wince, your head still hurting from your killer hangover. Probably the reason Steve is cooking you breakfast in the first place.

You grab the knife and walk over to him, slowly and grudgingly. “Not so loud,” you grumble, passing it over a little too aggressively.

“You’ll feel better once you get some pancakes in you,” Steve says, all-knowing expression on his face as he chops up strawberries — your favourite. “You go and sit, I’ll bring them to you.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you shrug, grabbing the spatula to start flipping the pancakes already in the pan. “You just focus on those strawberries.”

He looks at you warily while you struggle to flip even one pancake. “I don’t even know why you bother every time.”

“Go to hell, Harrington,” you mumble, right before the uncooked batter on top of the pancake smears on the side of the pan. “You distracted me!”

Steve chuckles in response and sets down his knife, coming over to stand behind you. You aren’t prepared for him to trap you between the stove and him, holding your spatula-wielding hand and guiding it under the pancake. “Here, like this.”

It was easy enough to ignore the sight of him making you breakfast as you stared at random kitchen utensils from your spot on the counter this whole time. But it’s another thing when he’s pressed up against you, hand over yours, his scent overwhelming you. It doesn’t help that you’re wearing his shirt and his sweatpants and slept in his bed — you quite literally can’t escape him no matter where you go. And that means you start to think about your feelings for him, unfortunately sober this time, not allowing you to ignore them.

The problem is, you don’t think you want to.

“We’re like an old married couple sometimes,” he says, completely offhandedly.

You freeze, not knowing what to say.

He’s kidding, of course, making a joke that you should probably laugh at. The thought of him saying things like this while thinking about you completely platonically, however, suddenly brings back nausea that rivals the night before. You collect yourself quickly and mutter something about how he wishes, before ducking under his arm to get some plates.

Steve clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, a little awkwardly. “What’s wrong?”

You really need to work on your acting skills.

“Nothing!” you insist, waving him off and handing him a plate. “I just felt a little dizzy for a second. Hungry.”

“Oh, do you wanna eat and then rest up?” His protective mode immediately kicks in, something you’re all too familiar with. “I can go grocery shopping for movie night with the kids myself.”

You roll your eyes, loading your plate with strawberries before Steve even has the chance to place the first pancake on. “I’m just hungry, I promise. Also, every time one of us goes alone, we end up forgetting like half the list and those kids are scary when they don’t have their essentials.”

“Oh, I remember the Eggo incident all too well,” Steve shudders are the memory. “My coffee table still leans a little to the right.”

5. when you go grocery shopping

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t stop at my house so I could grab some clothes,” you grumble, handing over the shopping cart to Steve with more force than necessary. “It was literally on the way! I look ridiculous, Steve.”

When he doesn’t answer, you sigh and look up from your list to find him grinning stupidly and looking over at your figure, clad in his clothes. You swat at his arm to snap him to attention.

“I think you look cute in my clothes,” he shrugs, unapologetic. “A completely self-indulgent move on my part.”

You almost stop in your tracks.

Yeah, Steve and you are close and he’s a sweet, charming, naturally flirty guy. But he’s never been this bold with you. First at breakfast, practically back-hugging you, and now admitting he likes to see you in his clothes?

You wonder what’s changed all of a sudden, but it’s making you nervous. And a little frustrated because how are you meant to come to terms with your feelings for your best friend when he says things like that!

“Don’t let the kids catch you saying stuff like that,” you wrinkle your nose, throwing a box of Eggos into the cart before you forget. “They’d be insufferable.”

“So, what?” Steve mumbles, pushing the cart into the next aisle to look for Lucas’ cookies. “They’re just joking around.”

You frown at the lack of joking around in his voice, and walk to the end of the cart which Steve stops in order to avoid running you over. “You don’t find it embarrassing and irritating?”

He scoffs. “Nice to know how you feel about the mere thought of being together,” he laughs without a trace of humour. “What’s the big deal, anyway?”

The sudden change of tone in the conversation has you wildly confused, and slightly annoyed because it’s easy for Steve to wave off the kids and their very real remarks. “The big deal is that we aren’t together. And the kids always saying that we should be… I- it- it has me confused!”

An elderly woman who’s about to enter the aisle, sees the two of you and clearly hears you raising your voice because she instantly turns her cart around.

“What has you confused?” Steve asks incredulously, throwing his arms up. “Is the idea of being with me that mind-boggling?”

You laugh derisively, no clue what he’s talking about. “We aren’t even—This has me confused! You, when you talk like we should be together, and when you flirt and when you act like we are together! But then we’re just best friends! What the hell is up with that?!”

“Well!” Steve looks around — you aren’t sure why, when the aisle is empty aside from you two. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Maybe it’s because I fucking love you!”

Your breath catches in your throat and you’re scared you might start choking if you do try and speak. However, when Steve looks at you like he wants to take it all back, misunderstanding your silence, you can’t stop the words from flowing out. “Well…maybe I love you too!

The relief on Steve’s face is something you catch for only a few seconds, because the next minute he’s striding over, shopping trolley abandoned on the side. He stares down at you, gaze intense and determined and so, so beautiful. “And maybe I wanna kiss you really bad.”

“Maybe you better.”

And so he does. He kisses you, really, really kisses you with the intention of making you forget everything else except him. Your best friend— your completely non-platonic best friend is kissing you and sliding his hands into your hair as you keep your hands on his hard, strong, chest that you’ve leant on for so many years. And while he presses his lips to yours, you can believe that he’s loved you for that long, you know he has.

When Steve reluctantly pulls away, you realise that you’ve loved him for just as long and damn those kids for knowing it before you did.

You’re the first to speak, albeit breathlessly. “They’re never gonna let us live this down, are they?”

“I don’t even care,” he shakes his head, grinning. “I finally got the girl.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery x reader

5K notes · View notes

sugurus-fave-monkey · 4 months

Text

J e a l o u s y

Starring; Toji Fushiguro, Cult Leader!Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo & Reader

Cw: Smut, MDNI/18+,Swearing, AFAB reader. Slight plot, Mean: Toji, Gojo, Geto, Dirty Talking, Rough Sex, Oral (m & f receiving), DubCon, Breedinng kink, Exhibition, Degradation, Praise, Restraints, Collar & Leash, Murder, Blood, Overstimulation, P in V, Creampie, some AU(no curse for Toji)a whole lot of filth, not proofread, written on mobile.

WC: 5800 oops

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Toji Fushiguro:

Toji knew that living with a younger woman would be a pain in the ass sometimes, but today you really had him pissed. Toji had claimed you as his girl, though not in a dating sense, more so in a fuck buddy sense, because he didn’t know if he was capable of maintaining an actual relationship. Plus the two of you lived together, so it was all the benefits of dating without having to actually date. Win-win.

Toji had been downstairs at the gym of the apartment building, when you had texted him saying that you were going to have a friend over, and apologizing in advance for being loud. Toji had thought nothing of it at the time, typical college girl stuff, having a girl friend over and being obscenely loud.

He had decided to spend a bit longer in the gym, doing a few extra sets, just to give you and your girl a bit of privacy. He thought nothing of it when some kid with weird bangs, and the rest of his hair in a bun that he had never seen before walked into the gym. The kid had asked Toji if he could spot him for a couple of sets, saying that a friend of his was visiting someone, and he didn’t want to be a third wheel. The two of them had conversed, mostly about gains, protein, and other gym bro things, before the kid asked Toji if he wanted to join him in the pool. Toji had politely declined, before excusing himself, and putting his headphones back on.

When he entered your shared apartment the gears in his brain started turning when he noticed a pair of men’s shoes beside yours. He took his headphones off and heard music coming from your room, and other noises, moans and grunts. Toji wasn’t stupid, it just took him a bit to figure out things. That kid he met was obviously friends with whoever was in your room.

Toji wanted to go back downstairs, pull that kid out of the pool by his stupid bun, and beat the shit out of him for letting his friend come and fuck his girl. But Toji also did not want an assault charge, so he cracked a beer, and sat on the couch. He could see your room, and he had patience.

A short while later he heard the music stop, and your door open. You came out of your room followed by a kid with white hair, whose appearance pissed Toji off. the kid was tall, lanky, and wearing sunglasses. Who the hell wears sunglasses inside. He wore a crooked smile as he noticed Toji.

“Oh shit, I guess your roommate’s home!” The kid smirked at you.

Your hair was dishevelled, your make up a mess as you glanced at Toji.

“Yeah. Toji this is Satoru, Satoru this is my roommate, Toji.” You mumbled.

Toji watched you say goodbye to Satoru, hugging him at the door. You tried to dart away but Toji grabbed you by the neck.

“Where d’ya think you’re going?” Toji asked.

“To shower?” You bit your lip.

“Nah, I think you need to be reminded whose girl you are.” Toji said as he started guiding you into his bedroom.

Toji pushed you down roughly onto his bed.

“Close your eyes.” he ordered.

You did so, and shortly felt the cool leather of a collar being wrapped around your neck. Toji yanked both your hands behind your back, securing them to the cuffs attached to the collar. You opened your eyes, and Toji was smirking down at you.

“So, my girl thinks she can just fuck whoever she likes huh?” Toji takes his shirt off, and you lick your lips at the sight. His beautiful muscles, glimmering under the LED lights in his room. “Better hope he stretched you out real good.”

Toji pulls his sweats down and your eyes widen. His cock was monstrous. His tip, angry and red, with precum dribbling is thick. He usually needed to make you cum at least once and use lube just to get inside you. His length was just as mean, veiny and a curve that could send you into overdrive.

Toji pushes you onto your back, and spreads your legs, palming his cock a few times before lining himself up at your entrance, and pushing slightly. It feels like you’re ripping.

“Nngh Toji! It won’t fit!” You protest.

“Tch.” Toji pulls back a little bit before leaning his head over yours. “Open your mouth.”

You do so and he gathers saliva in his mouth, before spitting it into your awaiting mouth. You feel yourself become more aroused, and swallow his spit while looking him dead in the eyes.

“Good girl.” Toji says while grabbing the bottle of lube off his dresser, before smearing it over your entrance, and around his cock.

He lines himself up once again, pushing into you. You yelp and clench your fists behind your back, sweat coating your face.

“Mmm fuck mama, you’re takin’ it so good.” Toji’s tongue is between his teeth as he slowly pushes himself into you, your walls enveloping him. “That little boy couldn’t even make you cum huh?”

The pain and pleasure of Toji stretching you out mingle together. A moan escapes your lips. Toji slaps you in the face, and wraps his fingers around your throat.

“I asked you a question, slut.” Toji asks through gritted teeth. “He didn’t make you cum did he?”

“N-no daddy! He didn’t!”

Toji slams into you, bottoming out. “Then. Why. Would. You. Bother?” Thrusting into you with every word.

Tears spill out of your eyes, your mouth is open as Toji drills into you. His thumb finds your clit and starts circling it. You thrust your hips upwards, chasing your high. Your stomach flutters, and your cheeks grow hot.

“You wanna cum huh? Such a greedy girl. Fuckin’ cum all over this cock then girl.” Toji groans out.

“F-fuuuuuck! Daaaaadddyyyy!” You practically scream out, as your orgasm racks through your body. Your muscles tighten, your vision goes white, as pleasure consumes you. Your walls clench around Toji’s dick, as he fucks you through your orgasm.

When it subsides, and you’re twitching, and panting, Toji pulls out and flips you over. He pulls your hips up, so you’re arching your back, and grabs the leash of your collar with his free hand. He gives you no time to adjust, before he’s bullying his cock back into you.

He pulls on your leash, forcing your head up, and drool spills out of your mouth. You’re so fucked out already, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, stars clouding your vision.

Toji sends his hand flying towards your ass, leaving a mark, his pace quickens.

“F-fuuuuck daddy, slow down!” You groan. “M’gonna cum.”

Instead of slowing down, Toji somehow speeds up, spearing you on his cock. “Yeah? Gonna cum again pretty girl?”

Toji’s words send you into overdrive, and you squirt all over him. Your legs are shaking, your arms are burning from being restrained, but you wish you could stay like this forever. Being fucking into oblivion by Toji’s cock. But you can tell he’s getting close to his peak. His muscles are contracting, his thrusts are getting sloppier, he’s grunting and groaning.

“Fuck mama, M’gonna cum inside you. Fill you up. Put a baby in you. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” Toji moans as his seed shoots into you, painting your walls and kissing your womb.

Toji pulls out, watching his cum drip out of you, before finally letting you out of your restraints. Your senses slowly start to come back to you.

“So, I’m actually your girl huh?” You ask.

“Guess so. If it means you ain’t gonna be fucking that idiot again, then you’re my girl.” Toji replies before grabbing a towel, and heading to the bathroom. “Y’gonna join me?”

“Yeah just a minute.” You call back, before pulling your phone out. You open up your texts with Satoru, and type out a message.

-Your plan worked! You’re honestly the best! And tell Suguru he’s the best boyfriend ever for letting you pretend to fuck me.-

*******

Suguru Geto:

Geto regarded all of his followers in the same manner, monkeys. But they all served a purpose, so he allowed most of them to live. Piss him off though, and he would have you killed. All of them were interchangeable, he could kill all of them, only to have a new group flock in the next day.

You, however were different. Geto had found you, sheltering yourself from a rainstorm close to his dwelling. He had offered you a deal, shelter indefinitely, so long as you were either useful, or willing to follow his principles. You had agreed, and while you got settled, Geto manifested a Surveillance Curse, sending it into your room. You had managed to incapacitate it, meaning you had cursed energy, which meant you could be of slight use to him.

Geto would never admit it, but he was enthralled by you, the way you looked at him with admiration, the way you were always the first one in when he called everyone to come listen to a speech. The way his eyes would zero in on you.

So when you were absent from his preachings for a few days in a row, he found himself growing concerned. He sent one of the monkeys to find you, and see what was wrong. When that follower reported their findings, Geto executed them on the spot.

The monkey had followed you around the facility, until he watched you enter another followers chambers. He had watched through a slight opening in the curtain, as you shed your clothes and gave yourself to that other man.

Geto was furious. After all, you should be entirely devoted to him, allowing no other to have you in that manner. He was the one in charge, and to be disrespected by someone he allowed to grovel before him, who was beneath him, almost shattered his facade. Rather than succumbing to the anger, he pushed it aside, he would have to teach you what happens when your loyalty slips.

The next day Geto ensured you would be present, by having a different monkey go to your chambers and escort you. You took your usual seat, front row, but refused to even look at Geto. You were nervous and rightfully so. When the rest of his followers piled in he addressed the crowd.

“Hello everyone.” Geto began, a fake smile plastered on his face. “Today you shall witness a special performance.” Geto stood up and pointed at you. “Would you be so kind as to come up to the stage?”

Your stomach flipped, anxiety coursing throughout your body. You gulped. “Me?” You squeaked out.

“Yes, you.” Geto dialed up the warmth in his voice. “Come onto the stage.”

Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to not go up there. But what else could you do? You knew if you ran, Geto would catch you, and kill you right then and there. Your legs shake as you stand up, time seeming to stand still as you take a step.

Geto’s lips curl as he sees the fear on your face, the sheen of sweat coating your body as you unsteadily step towards him. His eyes zeroing in on yours, like a predator, ready to pounce on their prey.

When you’re finally on the stage, Geto cups your chin with one of his large hands, forcing you to look up at him. He smiles down at you, but his eyes have malicious intent behind them. The hairs on your arm stand on end. Geto uses his hand to guide your gaze to the crowd, when you notice the man you had been sleeping with in the middle of the crowd, being held in place by two bigger men. You gasp when Geto jerks your head back towards him, and presses his lips against your ear.

“I hope you’re not shy in front of a crowd. Gotta show everyone what happens when they can’t keep control of their dicks. I’m not going to hurt you though.” Geto whispers, before pulling away and addressing his followers.

“Do I not provide for you? Have I not cured you of your ailments, your sicknesses? And yet, it seems that one of you displays no loyalty. No gratitude for what I have done for him. He must think of me as below him, inferior to him. Why else would he take what’s not his? You all serve me, you all belong to me, and you’re all mine to use as I please.” Geto’s voice is low, all the cheer drained from it.

He tosses the mic down to the floor, his body towering over yours.

“Strip.” That singular word. Your body felt like a shock ran through it. There was no way Geto was serious. This had to be some sort of joke. You couldn’t move.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Geto warned.

Your hands shook as you began undressing yourself, the robes you wore falling into a pool at your feet. You unclasp your bra and shrug it off your shoulders, using an arm to cover your nipples. You inhale harshly as Geto pulls your arm away from your body, the cool air making your nipples erect. Your lip trembles as you pull your panties down, exposing yourself to the hungry eyes of Geto’s followers. Your thighs close on instinct, and you close your eyes, willing this to be a dream.

“Open your legs.” Geto commands, his focus solely on you. You do so, and Geto uses a finger to swipe at your entrance. “Look at you, you’re already dripping, pathetic.”

Geto pushes his finger into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with you. A shiver runs down your spine at the intrusion, but you also feel aroused. Being in front of all of these people, while Geto invaded your body, just did something to you. You decide to suck on his finger, and he smirks at you.

He pulls his finger out of your mouth and stands behind you, before slapping your ass. He snaps a finger, and two followers bring out a chair. Geto sits down, and pulls you onto his lap.

“You ready to put on a show?” Geto whispers in your ear, and you can’t help to bite your lip and nod.

Geto uses a hand to lift your hips up, while he pulls his dick out, and slowly lowers you onto it. A moan spills out of your lips as he fills you up. Fuck he’s so thick, you’re so full already and he’s not even halfway inside. His fingers snake around your throat, as he tips your head back, as he pushes the rest of his length into you.

“Mmm fuck Geto, y’so big.” You moan out. Your eyes trail over the crowd. Every single one of them has lust in their eyes, they look so hungry. The men wishing they were the ones fucking you, the women cursing you for getting what they always desired.

Geto bounces you on his dick, causing your head to reel. You had always fantasized about fucking him, touching yourself to the thoughts. You never imagined you’d actually get the opportunity, so you had settled with the first guy to pay you attention. You had needs after all, but fuck, you were sure you’d never want to fuck anyone else as long as you lived.

“Fuck you’re so tight, you’re taking me so good.” Geto grunts in your ear, before nibbling on it. Your hand shoots down to your clit, rubbing circles around it. Geto slams into you, pulling moans from your throat as you work at your bud. Your stomach begins to coil, you’re so fucking close. A sheen of sweat is coating your body, your eyes are half lidded, you’re already feeling fucked out.

“Uhnnn, G-Geto, m’gonna cum, fuck don’t stop.” You whimper, as stars cloud your vision. You clutch onto Geto’s robes as your orgasm ravages you. Your mouth is open in an O, and you fucking squirt, soaking Geto’s pants and spraying the crowd.

“Fucking good girl!” Geto squeezes your throat as he fucks you through your orgasm, feeling his own approaching. He finally got to fuck you, and put his followers in their place. Before he loses all sense a rationality he summons a cursed spirit, and targets the man who had the courage to sleep with you.

Blood splatters onto both of you. And that sends Geto into overdrive, his hips rutting into you, as his orgasm courses through him. You feel his dick pulsing as his cum shoots into you, thick ropes, coating your walls.

You haven’t even come down yet, before Geto pulls you off his dick, grabs your hair and pushes your face into the pile of your fluids.

“Clean up your mess, monkey.” And you do so, licking up both of your fluids. When you’re done, Geto snakes his arm around your waist. “You’ll be staying in my chambers now, and I’ll have you whenever I desire.”

“If anyone of you chooses to be disloyal, the same fate will await you. Dismissed.” Geto addresses the crowd one last time, before exiting the stage with you in tow.

*********

Satoru Gojo:

Satoru Gojo was very lonely, after all his girlfriend and his best friend had been assigned a mission together, and he was stuck at Jujutsu Tech by himself. There was absolutely no reason why he couldn’t have gone with the two of you, which he made sure to whine about.

“No fair, why do you two get to go out of country and I don’t.” He had groaned.

“It’s a surveying mission, Satoru. We need to be stealthy.” Suguru had explained.

“Okay, and? What’s your point?” Satoru had pouted.

“You’re not exactly the quietest, or sneakiest person. The minute we’d find our objective, you’d come barrelling in with-“ you had mimicked his hand signs. “Blue”

Both you and Suguru had started laughing your asses off right then, and Satoru couldn’t help but join in.

But now, he was bored, bored , b-o-r-e-d. And he figured that now was as good a time as any to use one of his handy techniques; teleportation. He had badgered Suguru, until he had informed him of where exactly they were going, with a “What if something happens to you two?” So he knew exactly where he was going.

He figured he would surprise the two of you, maybe go out shopping, and he could even help the two of you finish the mission faster.

It didn’t take long for him to arrive at the location, which was not what he was expecting. There were a ton of dilapidated old buildings, and there was a ton of residuals, both human and curse alike. Satoru frowned before setting out to follow your residuals, and he noticed the two of you, before you noticed him.

Satoru couldn’t explain what made him duck at the side of a building and watch the two of you, but now he was pissed.

Satoru saw the two of you fending off a Cursed Spirit, you were distracting it, while Suguru had begun to manipulate it. Satoru watched as his best friend collapsed the curse into itself, making it take the shape of a ball. He watched as you cheered him on. He watched as Suguru swallowed the curse in one go, and your eyes lit up, and you gushed at how great it is he can swallow curses. He watched as Suguru put his arm over your shoulders and the two of you walked away. He could hear you still ecstatic about how great Geto was at swallowing.

Satoru put a plan in motion at that very moment, and decided to wait a few hours to enact it. He didn’t know which he was more hurt by; the blatant lie involving the mission, you swooning over his best friend, or the way Suguru just draped his arm over you.

~~~~

You had just finished in the shower, and decided to get comfy for the night, the mission for today was finished, Suguru was resting in his hotel room, and you planned to order room service. You wrapped yourself in the satin robe the hotel had provided. You were about to flop down on the bed, when you heard a knock at the door.

Figuring it was probably Suguru, you got up and unlocked the door, without even looking through the peep hole. You swung it open to be met by… your boyfriend? What was he doing here?

“Satoru?! What- how?” You babbled, eyes widening.

Satoru said nothing as he pushed the door open and stepped in, before searching your hotel room for something. You cocked an eyebrow while watching him in silence.

“What’s going on?! Is everything okay? What are you looking for?” You ask.

Satoru stands before you, glaring at you, his eyes seemingly filled with anger. He takes you in, seeing the worried expression, the way you chew your lip.

“Kneel.” Satoru commands.

“I-what? Kneel?” You sputter out, your cheeks growing hot.

Satoru grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you down until you kneel. “I said kneel.”

You were still totally confused as to why Satoru showed up, but the way he was acting right now had you nervous, but kind of turned on. The two of you usually had sex at least once daily, and you had been on this mission for two and a half weeks now.

You looked up at Satoru through your eyelashes and he smirked at you. He took your hand in his, pulling it towards his crotch, forcing you to feel his erection. He pulled the waistband of his sweats down, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants.

“Open your mouth.” Satoru orders, and when you do, he pushes his cock into your mouth, giving you no time to adjust as he starts thrusting. “Mmm fuck, that’s my good girl, swallowing my cock.”

Satoru’s dirty talk always had you practically creaming, you squeeze your thighs together and moan around his cock, as you suck, using your tongue to increase his pleasure.

His hold on your hair tightens, keeping you in place so he is fully in control. Fuck your mouth made him practically delirious, the way you devoured him as though he was your last meal. When you bring your hand up to stroke him, he bats it away. “Nuh-uh. Just your mouth, see if you can handle swallowing all of me.”

As he says that, he pushes himself deeper, past your uvula. You gag, and your mouth waters, as his cock slides down your throat. Your eyes are watering, but you know you can take him. You look up at him to find him glaring down at you, his lip curled.

Satoru pulls out, before snapping his hips forward, fucking into your throat. He lets a groan escape, furrowing his brows. He wraps his free hand around your throat, feeling how it bulges as he throat fucks you.

He slows it down, only to bully his cock impossibly further down your throat. You’re light headed, his dick cutting off oxygen, and his hand wrapped around your throat making it even worse.

He pulls out of your throat, allowing you a moment to catch your breath, before ramming his length right back down your throat. “Mmmmmph.” You groan against his cock as tears spill out of your eyes.

“Aw what’s wrong Princess?” Satoru coos. “Thought ya liked swallowing. Or is that only when Suguru does it, hmm?”

Your blood runs cold, and your eyes widen.

“F-fuck.” Satoru moans, while continuing to abuse your throat. “Y-yeah, I saw you two. Fuckin’ lucky that y’make me feel s’good.”

You couldn’t even explain the truth. How Suguru needed you to support him after your battle. That’s the only reason he had his arm around you. How after seeing the face of disgust he made, you tried to distract him by telling him how cool it was that he could swallow curses. You tried to pull away, hoping to explain, but Satoru held you in place. Tears flowed down your face.

“You cryin’? That’s rich. Think you’re real smooth huh? Like I wouldn’t have seen it with my six eyes. Just means, I gotta f-fuck, remind you who you belong to.” Satoru growls out.

Again, your thighs grind together, you’re so desperate for stimulation. You shove your fingers between your legs, rubbing at your clit before Satoru pulls your hand away, smirking.

“Nah, you don’t deserve to touch yourself. If ya wanna cum y’better make sure to swallow all my cum.” Satoru’s thrusts become sloppy, he feels his balls clench, and he bottoms out, pushing his cock as far as it will go, before sloppily humping against your face.

“Ahn ah, fuck.” Satoru hisses as he feels his balls release. “Fuck take it all, fuckin don’t waste a single drop.”

His release fills up your throat as he pulls out, somehow spilling more into your mouth. You swallow, and instantly start coughing and sputtering. Air fills your lungs, and you inhale and exhale deeply.

Satoru stuffs his dick back into his pants, before grabbing your phone and firing off a text.

“S-Satoru, what are you doing?” You whisper, your throat to raw to properly speak.

“Told Suguru to come over. Think I need to teach him a lesson too. And see if his swallowing is worth the hype.” Satoru says as he ruffles your hair. “Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you cum.”

You feel yourself dripping, your hole clenching around nothing, as you hear a knock at the door.

*********

Choso Kamo:

Choso had wanted to help you train but the fact is: he is not good at training people. He just lacks the finesse to take what he’s doing and slow it down for you.

You were a curse user, part of Geto’s group, you had participated in the Night Parade of 100 Demons, and had found Geto shortly afterwards. You hadn’t questioned how he was still alive, assuming the stitches were from healing himself up. You met Choso right after he gained a body, and seemingly formed a bond. After Choso had exposed Geto as a fake, you immediately turned on Geto, allying yourself with Choso.

Choso glances over to where Noritoshi is guiding you, and instantly starts to feel annoyed. Surely you could move your body on your own? Why were his hands all over you? What was so funny that you were giggling over?

Choso huffs out a sigh, before turning away from you and Noritoshi, figuring he may as well train also. He was sure of his abilities but it didn’t hurt to improve them, and he could also use that as an opportunity to get his frustrations out.

After a while of training, and continuing to ruminate, he decides enough is enough. He had talked to Yuji about how you made him feel, and Yuji had told him he probably has feelings for you. Yuji had then sat Choso down and made him sit through several romance movies. After that he had directed him to Hakari, for additional knowledge, because Yuji “hasn’t really done that stuff”.

Choso made his way to the door of your quarters quickly, and knocked softly on the door. You pulled the door open, and beamed up at him before pulling him into a hug and inviting him in.

Choso could smell your perfume on you, the aroma getting to his head. He was so captivated by every part of you. You were wearing a very small pair of shorts and a crop top, both of which hugged your curves. He was almost salivating.

“What’s up Choso?” You asked him with a smile.

Choso didn’t speak, instead he snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. His lips crashed against yours, and for a brief moment you were still, before opening your mouth, allowing Choso’s tongue free rein of your mouth. You moan into his mouth, as his tongue explores. When you suck on his tongue, he groans, and his hips thrust against you, grinding his erection against your thighs.

Choso breaks the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, and trails his lips down to your neck. He’s sloppy, biting down and sucking, licking, all while whining, fucking whining, because he wants all of you, all at once, forever. He pulls up your crop top, exposing your plush breasts, and pulls away to admire them.

His mouth actually salivates. “C-can I?”

“Sure.” You giggle, your cheeks growing warm. You allow Choso to guide you to your bed, and he sinks down beside you.

Choso feels light headed as he takes a nipple into his mouth. Fuck, your skin tasted so sweet. He feels you grab onto his hair as you let out a moan when he nips gently at the bud. He can’t help but to roll his eyes back into his head, as he squeezes your other breast with his hand. He releases your nipple from his mouth and bites down on your shoulder, and when your blood enters his mouth, he loses all sense of rationality.

He pushes you down on the bed, pulling off your shorts, trailing bites all the way down from your shoulder to your waist, before sitting on his knees on the floor. He grabs your thighs, pulling your heat towards his mouth, and spreading your legs.

He slowly licks at your entrance, causing you to arch your back, and his mouth waters at the taste. He uses a hand to spread your folds open, before plunging his tongue inside of you. You both moan at the same time, Choso grinding his hips against the bed frame. He’s sloppy as he fucks you with his tongue, his saliva mixing with your slick. His free hand comes up to play with your nipple.

Your hands are wrapped in his hair, as you allow pleasure to wrack through you. “Nngh, fuck Choso, feels so good.”

The praise goes right to his head, and his dick, somehow making him even harder. He pulls his tongue out of your cunt, and brings it to your clit, licking it slowly, almost teasingly. Your moans fill the room. Choso pulls his dick out, and starts stroking it slowly.

“P-please, faster Cho.” You groan.

Choso obliges, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, swirling it around, until he presses his tongue flat against it and starts moving his head up and down, left and right.

You’re so close, your hips matching Choso’s movements as you grind on his face. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt an orgasm like this coming on.

“Oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck, Choso, fuck!” Your mind goes blank as you cum on Choso’s tongue. Your body twitches, your hole clenches around nothing, and you pull Choso by the hair. Your thighs try to close, but Choso is using his hands to keep them open. A few tears fall from your eyes due to the intensity of your orgasm.

Choso keeps eating you out, he doesn’t even need to touch himself at this point. He practically slurps down your orgasm. He takes a hand off your thighs, and bring it towards you entrance. He pushes one finger in, relishing how your warmth sucks him in. He whines again, he can’t wait to feel your walls against his aching cock. He adds a second finger, curling them inside you, hitting your g-spot. His other hand is pressed on your belly, and he can feel his fingers inside you. He loves the way your muscles clench around his fingers, as he probes you.

He pulls his face away from you, replacing his tongue with his thumb, moving it up and down, and in circles over your clit. He watches your face contort, your eyes squeeze shut, your hands now grasping onto the blanket.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.” Choso remarks. “I need you to cum again for me.”

Choso’s hand fucks into you skillfully, pulling his fingers out a little bit, before pushing them back in and repeatedly curling them. His pace on your clit is perfect, and goosebumps prick your skin as you approach another orgasm.

“D-don’t stop.” You cry out as pure pleasure shoots through you. Your toes curl, your hips thrust upwards, your whole body spasms, your eyes roll back into your head. You feel Choso’s lips meet yours and open your mouth. You taste yourself on him as his tongue fucks in and out of your mouth.

When he pulls away, you open your eyes, and watch as he palms his cock. Your mouth waters, his dick is absolutely perfect, pale, veiny, and his tip is absolutely oozing pre cum.

Choso lines himself up, and as he pushes into you it takes everything in his being to not cum right then and there. He pulls out, and pushes back in, fucking you slowly, savouring the feeling, he bites on his lower lip, while watching himself slowly fuck you. He brings his thumb to your clit, swirling it over your bud.

“Nngh! Cho I-I can’t cum again. S’too many.” You’re so sensitive right now, overstimulation hitting you hard.

“Fuck yes, y-you can babe. N-need you to cum all over me. Please.” Choso begs, and fuck maybe you could cum again.

You allow your body to relax, your brain to shut down, but something feels weird, like a sort of pressure.

“F-feels weird Cho I-“

Choso bottoms out and fucks into you roughly, increasing the strength of his thrusts. It feels like something inside you snaps, and you squirt all over Choso. You’d never done that before, and feel slightly embarrassed but Choso is loving it.

“Oh fuck, yeah cum all over me.” Choso feels himself ready to burst. His dick contracts, and oh my god, the feeling of cumming inside you was too much. “M’cumming inside you. Oh fuck I need you, fuck I love you, fuck please please don’t ever leave me.”

You milk him for every single drop that he’s got, and when he stops thrusting you wrap your arms around him, pulling his chest over your body, and kissing him sweetly. You’re both panting as you come down. When you’re finally coherent enough to speak, you cup his face in your hands.

“I won’t ever leave you,” you whisper. “I love you too.”

302 notes · View notes

mvybanks · 11 months

Text

SOMEONE TO STAY - pt.1

a/n: i didn’t mean to make you wait 2 months but it’s here now!!! i really hope you guys like it and that it was worth the wait😫 (sorry if the ending looks rushed but it would’ve turned out way longer otherwise and i was already scared it was going to be boring oops)

warnings: mentions of cheating, abandonment issues (?)

word count: 3.5k

pairing: single dad!jj x babysitter!reader

nav someone to stay masterlist

add yourself to my taglist <3 (if you want to be added only to the taglist of the series you can specify it in the end note of this form!)

“This is getting ridiculous, JJ. Everyone is worried about you, man; you deserve to go out and have fun.”

It had been almost an hour since John B, JJ’s oldest friend, had called him to finally confront him about his lack of human interactions that hadn’t been with his own daughter, Isabella, lately. It had been seven months since Lily had left them on their own and for the blond-haired man moving on was harder than he had thought. After all she had been part of his life for five years and was engaged to him for six months prior to her sudden departure and abandonment not only of her soon-to-be-husband, but of their four-year-old daughter as well. He had never gotten an explanation from her, only the sight of an empty bed and a poor excuse of a message in his voicemail.

“I can’t do this anymore. It’s over.” that was all she’d had to say to him before bailing on her family.

He hadn’t been surprised, they’d had problems for quite some time, stuck in a loveless relationship that was kept alive for their daughter’s sake, born from an unplanned pregnancy. He had never seen Ella as a mistake; surely, he hadn’t planned to have a child with his girlfriend for they had been together for only a year, but Isabella had always and forever would be the best thing that had ever happened to him. Unfortunately, her mother didn’t feel the same way and it felt like a punch in the stomach to JJ, as he knew exactly what his little girl was going to go through, having experienced it himself; however, he was aware that, although she would feel the lack of her mom’s presence, Ella was going to receive all the love she deserved from her dad.

“I have to stay with Ella. She needs me,” JJ replied to his friend.

“JJ…You’re twenty-five! You’re allowed to meet new people, have new experiences and shit. We can help you find a babysitter for when you’re not around and it’ll be okay, trust me. This won’t change anything between you two.”

He couldn’t lie to himself, even though it did hurt him to admit it: John B was right. It wasn’t fair to himself if he kept going down that road, a life devoted to his daughter and to his daughter only, and hell, he was almost fine with it, she was his whole world after all, but he wanted to give life another try and listen to his best friend for once. Perhaps his biggest worry wasn’t his daughter; he knew with everything in him that no one and nothing could ever come between them, but he was afraid of what there was out there. He couldn’t face another delusion, another disappointment, one more relationship where he would have to ask, to beg for love.

However, he decided he was ready to let someone, other than his little girl, in his heart one last time before giving up on love. He owed it to himself, right?

“Fine,” he finally sighed. At his surrender, he could hear some noises on the other side, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in confusion, but no one was able to see him.

“Did you say ‘fine’? Are you going on a date?” John B excitedly asked again to make sure he had heard him correctly.

“Yeah…You gotta help me find a babysitter though!”

“I’ve got one for you!” An even more cheerful voice interjected, one that JJ recognized immediately as his best friend’s girlfriend; “A friend of mine knows this really great agency that you can call. Oh, and I’ve already got the perfect date for you, you’re going to love her!”

Although they couldn’t see him, JJ playfully rolled his eyes; of course Sarah had everything planned, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he found out that it had all been an idea of hers so that they could double date. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but smile as she talked his ear off about this woman she wanted him to meet, because he knew they were doing this for him, because they loved him and wished to see him happy, and that warmed his heart.

As he dialed the number into his phone, JJ had to remind himself that he wasn’t abandoning his little girl. It was for their own good, he told himself, and a sweet little girl as his daughter would’ve definitely become friends with her babysitter in no time.

‘Great references’ and ‘we’ve never had any complaint about her’ were what they had told him at the agency about the babysitter they were going to hire for him. He had read everything on her file, thoroughly, making sure she was good like everyone said, even though he knew Sarah’s friend had hired the same woman for her two kids and she had only good things to say about her, so what was he supposed to worry about?

“So, she can come over on Saturday, right?” he questioned the man on the other line for the umpteenth time.

“Of course, sir. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Finally, he realized that everything was taken care of and he didn’t have to keep pestering the poor man with questions anymore. It was done.

He walked into the living room of his home, looking for his daughter to give her the news. And there she was, his little angel drawing a picture as she sat on the ground, not even noticing the smile that her sight had provoked to her father.

“Hey, sweetie,” he made his presence known before sitting down next to her.

“Hi, daddy.”

“What you doing?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “Drawing.”

“I can see that. Who’s that?” He asked her as he pointed to the almost-unrecognizable figures.

“That’s me,” she said, directing her forefinger towards a small shape, “And that’s you!” And he could tell immediately because the other shape was three times as big as the little one, which made him chuckle.

He bent his head down to kiss her head while she went back to her masterpiece.

“Listen, I have to tell you something.”

She turned her head quickly to look at him, peering up at him with those big blue eyes that truly resembled her father’s, as she waited for his next words.

JJ knew that look too well and it made his chest squeeze; the same scared eyes she had given to him when he’d had to tell her about her mom not coming back anytime soon. Now, the fear that she might think that he could ever do the same made him sick to his stomach.

He picked her up and sat her on his lap, to remind her that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Daddy won’t be home this Saturday, but I called a great babysitter that will play and keep you company when I’m not home. Is that okay?” He tried to spill everything as fast as he could, not wanting to prolong this conversation; one look at her sad eyes would’ve made him pick his phone and call it off.

“Was I bad?” She asked, and he swore he heard his heart break.

He hugged her close to him before he began leaving countless kisses on her head and then on her face as she giggled. “You’re the best,” he said in between tickles and forehead kisses, “You did nothing bad, sweetie, I promise you. I will go out for a night, and I’ll kiss you goodnight as soon as I come back home, alright? You won’t even realize I was gone.”

She didn’t say anything else; she only showed him her little finger, silently asking him to pinky promise. Grinning, he latched his own fifth digit with hers before bringing it to his mouth to leave a quick peck.

“Char – Charlo – CHARLOTTE!” You snapped at your friend who kept rambling on the phone about what she had just done and in how much trouble she was in.

From what you had managed to gather from her words, she had been called in to babysit a new kid three days from then, but she was on a spontaneous vacation with her girlfriend and hadn’t told her boss about it. Charlotte had just had a whole weekend of babysitting the week before and she didn’t expect to be called for another Saturday, but there she was, freaking out and giving you a headache.

“You really can’t fly back in before this weekend?” You questioned, trying to reason with her.

“NO! There’s only one plane that could take us back, but it’s too expensive, neither of us can afford it.” She said with tears pricking at her eyes. “They’re gonna fire me. I don’t have a job, oh my God, oh my God- “

“Hey! Take deep breaths, okay?”

You could hear her hyperventilating. She had always been kind of a drama queen, however, it was impossible to not have the same reaction as her this time.

“You gotta help me, please,” she begged, and you knew if she had been there with you, she would’ve gotten on her knees.

“I don’t know what to do, Lottie.”

“Take my place! It’s a new family, they’ve never met me, they don’t know what I look like. I’ll give you the address, you’ll just have to watch a kid and pretend to be me. You’d get the money, of course, I just can’t lose this job, please.”

Although she couldn’t see you, your jaw dropped in disbelief. No way you were going to do that.

“I – I can’t to that. I don’t even feel like leaving the house-“

“Babe, if this is about Jake again, I swear to God…” She interrupted you immediately.

Charlotte wasn’t wrong; there was a reason why you didn’t want to go out and his name was, in fact, Jake, your ex-boyfriend. It had been two months since you had found him naked with another woman in his apartment…the one he had given you the key to. Nonetheless, you didn’t care about that anymore, not even about him in general. What was keeping you from leaving your bed those days was disappointment; why couldn’t you find a good guy? Someone who means what he says, who really loves you? And why was it impossible for you to find someone who was able to take your breath away? Was there something wrong with you?

“I love you, honey, I really do, but I won’t let you give up on love because of that jerk; if you do, I’ll haunt you forever.” And you knew she wasn’t kidding.

“ ‘Haunt me’ ? What are you? A ghost?”

“I will be if I don’t show up at that job.”

You sighed loudly before turning around in your bed. What was the worst that could happen?

“I’ll do it,” you groaned, surrendering to your pleading best friend.

“Are you serious? I love you, I love you, I love y-“ She kept screaming, possibly impairing your hearing by reaching ultrasonic sounds.

Maybe this was going to be good for you; it couldn’t have done more damage, right?

Walking up to the driveway of the Maybank’s household, you couldn’t help but think about why they would live in such a secluded area. It was beautiful, that was for sure.

The small and cozy white home was surrounded by green, all around it a beautiful garden, and you could tell that they had a good view of the ocean from inside; it was stunning.

Finally, you ringed the gold-colored doorbell that rested on the side of the front door and waited for someone to greet you, although your heart was beating like crazy from the anxiety. What if someone found out what you were doing? Wasn’t it a felony? It must have been, you thought. You were going to kill Charlotte; you couldn’t believe she had put you in such a difficult situa-

Well, you weren’t expecting to be met by the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. Perhaps your best friend was forgiven.

Wearing a white buttoned up shirt and casual jeans, JJ smiled at you. “Hi, you must be Charlotte Jones,” he said as he offered you his hand to shake, which you did politely. Your hands felt clammy as you took his palm in yours, hoping you weren’t shaking from the fear of him discovering your secret before you could’ve even stepped foot inside the house.

“Yes. And you must be Mr. Maybank, right?”

He chuckled, “You can call me JJ, we don’t have to be formal here.”

You nodded and showed him a soft smile while he gave you enough space to enter his home.

Alright, at least we’re in, you thought.

Like you had imagined, it was even more breathtaking inside, warm and made of wood. You understood why it was completely outside of reach from the city: that house was a safe little heaven. “You have a beautiful home, Mr. - JJ,” you corrected yourself and he was very thankful for that.

It was obvious you were pretty close in age, and he would’ve felt uncomfortable if you had continued calling him by his last name. He couldn’t help but notice how your eyes wandered around the room with curiosity, the way you gnawed on your bottom lip and played with one of your rings; were you nervous?

Suddenly, the sound of little feet running around the house filled your ears and a little girl with hair golden like the sun, and like the man beside you, came into view. She had big blue eyes and a sweet and genuine smile, the one that only kids can always wear with so much easiness.

The toddler walked to her dad and hugged his leg as she looked up at him. “Daddy, who is she?” she whispered, but you could hear her as well, loud and clear, which made you stifle a chuckle.

JJ grinned at his daughter before bending down to talk to her at her level. “She’s gonna be your babysitter, sweetie. Remember? We talked ‘bout that,” he spoke in a kind tone as he brushed some hairs out of the little girl’s face.

Was that man even real?

She seemed to think about her father’s words and then she turned to you, offering her small hand just like her father had had a minute before. “My name is Ella.”

You crouched down in front of her and accepted her hand. “Hi, Ella, I’m Charlotte. You’ve got a beautiful name, you know?”

“It’s short for Isabella, right honey?” JJ interjected and his daughter nodded furiously.

They looked like the cutest dad and daughter duo and that made your chest squeeze for multiple different reasons.

“You’re pretty,” Ella said, admiring your features.

Close to blushing at her words, after all kids always tell the truth, you added a soft “thank you. But you’re the prettiest.”

The man beside you could only agree with both statements as he realized how beautiful the woman that was about to spend every weekend, and probably weekdays as well, at his house was.

How was he supposed to go out on a date now?

Actually, scratch that because the most important question that was running in his head was another: why had a weird sensation settled at the pit of his stomach at the way you had simply tucked a strand of hair behind your ear?

You weren’t surprised to find out that JJ had left you a list of things his daughter liked to do and what her nightly routine was, in order to help her fall asleep faster, along with a post-it note attached to the refrigerator with his number written down on it; ‘in case of emergency, this is my number:’ it read. He had already ordered pizza for both you and the little girl, and you found amazing how much he was still taking care of Ella even when he wasn’t around. You realized that he was raising her on his own; you couldn’t tell what happened to her mother, but the lack of pictures of another woman made you suspect it shouldn’t have been an easy topic in that household.

Perhaps spending your Saturday night playing with dolls and drawing with a four year old hadn’t been in your plans, but it sure as hell turned out to be so much more fun than you had expected. Ella was the loveliest and sweetest kid you had ever met and you were glad to be the one to spend time with her. She talked your ear off about all of her stuffed animals, their names and about their likes and dislikes; she told you about her favorite shows and how she loved when her dad took her to the park or painted with her and about how he was building a doll house just for her. You couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that JJ Maybank was the best, most attractive dad you had ever had the pleasure to encounter, and you would’ve lied if you had said that you didn’t want to come back to that house to get to know the both of them better.

“Do you know how to braid your hair?” She asked you at some point.

You were tucking her into bed, carefully placing her stuffed animals next to her, when you looked down at her and smiled, “Yeah, of course. Why?”

“Daddy can’t do it…”

“I can braid your hair if you’d like,” You said, already knowing the answer to that. It was easy to understand, even after spending so little time with her, that she didn’t want to bother anyone and was scared to ask for stuff, so you realized it was easier to make it look like you were offering it to her in the first place. You couldn’t understand the reason behind that behavior, her father looked like he would’ve given her the sun and the moon if he could’ve, but it wasn’t something you were supposed to ask about.

She grinned up at you, nodding, before she turned around to let you work her hair into a braid. You gently combed your fingers through the blonde locks and got to work.

“You’ve got beautiful hair, you know?” You spoke softly.

“Thanks.”

You wrapped the end of the braid with your own hair tie, which was previously sitting on your wrist. “All done!”

Before you could understand what was happening, she sprinted to the bathroom, giggling in excitement as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Jumping up and down, she threw herself at you, having ran behind her, and, thankfully, you were quick to catch her as laughter filled the room.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She never stopped saying as she hugged your neck; your heart ached at the action. Why had it felt like such a bittersweet moment?

Following the instructions given by her father, Ella fell asleep pretty quickly, although she asked about her dad, but didn’t make a fuss about his absence. Nonetheless, JJ came back home at exactly 11 p.m., just like he had told you, and you couldn’t help but wonder how his date had gone, seen it seemed like he couldn’t wait to be welcomed into his home once again. However, it was none of your business, you shouldn’t have cared about his personal life and you shouldn’t have made any assumption.

“Hey,” he whispered as he closed the front door behind him as quietly as he could, “Everything okay?”

“Yes, of course. She was an angel,” you smiled, and he did the same.

The moment you had left the house, JJ ran to his daughter’s bedroom because, as promised, he had to kiss her goodnight. He knew she probably wouldn’t have even remembered it, but one thing about him was that he would always keep a promise to his little girl.

The date had gone worse than he could’ve imagined; nothing wrong about that woman, but he wasn’t interested, and he felt uncomfortable the whole time. But on that night, JJ learned that he was ready to get back to dating; he didn’t know how or why, he just felt ready. That meant he was going to need a babysitter more often, right? He would have the necessity to call you again soon. There was no point in changing babysitters after all.

Bending down to kiss Ella’s forehead, he noticed the way her hair had been wrapped in a braid and it brought tears to his eyes. It was something Lily used to do a lot, and since she had left, the little girl had been asking him to do the same but he couldn’t for the life of him and he dreaded the disappointing look in her eyes.

She slightly opened one eye to peer up at her dad, “Daddy,” she yawned.

“Ssh, go back to sleep, sweetie. It’s late.”

Nodding, the little girl obliged, not before she’d had the chance to add, “I love Charlotte. Can she come back?”

It was obvious she was still in a sleeping state, yet he didn’t miss the peaceful expression painting her features and he couldn’t deny her of that. “Of course.” He pecked her forehead once again, “Goodnight, sweetie.”

“Goodnight, daddy.”

Maybe John B and Sarah were right; someone out there was going to make him believe in love again, and perhaps that person was closer than he believed.

taglist:

@jjmaybankisbae @notslay-norcleor @poppet05 @solargazes @cindersnightmare @fairlymax @chaostudee @goldenroutledge @drewsgarfieid @taintedxkisses @uhcallmemommy @babypoguelife @screan @voguesir @vigilanteshitposting @kliness @gemofthenight @magnificantmermaid @f4ll-for-you @marzipaanz @sweetestdesire @guililove @freyawhitexxx1 @mistalli @shady-the-simp @fangirl-madz @one-sweet-gubler @camelliaflow3r @emery-333 @hallecarey1 @illicitfixations @dreamingwithrafe @maybankslover @jjgaybanklover @wildflwrdarlin @futurecorps3 @bxrbie1 @maybanksbabe @softcoremaybank @jjsbank444 @vivian-555 @jjfordays @highpope @livsters @starkeylover @peachpitlover @instabull @kentoswifeyy

#jj maybank #obx #outer banks #dad!jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x you #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #dad!jj #someone to stay series

541 notes · View notes

alexfromjersey · 11 months

Text

A SCHOOL TAINTED WITH BULLET HOLES

Vada Cavell x G!P OC

Word Count: 2.0k

warnings: school shooting, mature language, gun violence

A/N: I’m trying to write as much as possible before I visit my dad for three weeks so pray that I can at least finish half this book and at least three chapters for my other book.

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

Poke. Poke. Poke.

You were being awoken by the feeling of someone poking you in your side, face, and thigh. You peel one eye open and are met with wide eyes and yellow rotten teeth. You jump fully awake, frightened, and scoot to your wall.

The sickly-looking man let out a laugh at your reaction, “Oops didn’t mean to scare ya.” The man was wearing nothing a dirty stained white t-shirt, no bottoms on.

“Rip! I told you, this room is off limits” The familiar voice of your mother enters your room. She was in a red silky robe that was loosely tied and her hair was disheveled.

“My bad. I was just trying to look for the bathroom” Rip snorted and moved away from you.

“Last door on the right” Your mom answered.

Rip nodded and turned back to you. “Sorry kid” He shrugged and left your room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Your mother comes to stand in front of you.

“I’m sorry baby but I told you to always make sure your door is locked every night so things like this can never happen” She spoke softly. She tries to push some hair out your face but you flinch away from her. A hurt look appears on her face.

“Get ready for school or you’re going to be late” She sniffled and left your room.

You sat on your bed for a good extra five minutes before getting yourself ready for the day. You got dressed in a black pullover hoodie, black t-shirt, faded blue jean shorts, and beat-up black and white Cortez. You grab your bag, skateboard, and essentials before leaving your room. You make sure to lock your room up before heading downstairs. Thankfully, Rip was still in the bathroom so you didn’t have to see him in the kitchen. You brushed your teeth and washed your face in the kitchen sink.

After you finished, you leave your house without a goodbye from your mother. As usual, you’re met with the sight of your two friends, Quinton and Devyn Hasland.

“Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken from her slumber” Devyn joked in a broken English accent.

A smile appeared on your face and you dap the brothers up. The three of you start your journey to school.

“You know Principal Adams is coming for you for missing like a whole week of school. He’s been hounding me and Q for the last week about your whereabouts” Devyn said.

“I don’t care. School is a fucking joke” You shrugged.

“School helps you get a job” Quinton commented.

“No, school helps you become a dumbass corporate zombie. It doesn’t teach you any life skills. Not how to do taxes. Not how to save money to get a house or car. Or basic life shit that you need to survive. How is a2 + b2 = c2 gonna help me in life? When am I gonna need to know that shit? Fuck school til the day I die” You smiled and stuck your middle finger up.

The three of you continue your journey to school. As you approach the school, you see a rail that you always practice on.

"Watch this" You smirked and throw your board down.

"Nice" The brothers compliment as you skate back towards them. You felt a pair of eyes on you so you turned around and they lock on to dark brown ones.

Vada Cavell.

You knew her from your Chemistry class with Mrs. Victor. The two of you never spoke but always catch each other staring. Quinton and Devyn follow your eyeline.

“Oh my god, I wish you would just let your balls drop and go talk to her. The longing gaze from across the room is so Twilight” Devyn groaned.

You pull your eyes away from her, “You watched Twilight?”

“I only watched it with Jazmine” Devyn defended.

“Lie. Mom and Pops caught you last week, without Jazmine, watching it in the basement. According to Mom, you look very engrossed in it” Quinton laughed.

“There was nothing else on TV” Devyn sighed.

You and Quinton let out a laugh as the three of you walk inside the school. The brothers make their way to their lockers while you head to breakfast. You were starving and didn’t realize it until you got inside the building. By the grace of God, you managed to get to the café before they closed.

You grab your food and head to pay for it. But when you pulled your wallet out, you realized a $5 bill you had was missing. You sighed out in frustration.

“Fucking dickhead” You mumbled. You put the food back and turned around but you ran into someone.

“Miss Vaughn, nice to know you’re alive and well. Follow me” Principal Adams demanded.

You sigh and begin to follow the principal to his office. But another body runs into you.

I can’t catch a break today.

“Sorry,” A sweet voice apologized. You looked down and saw Vada. You open your mouth to respond but Adams interrupts you.

“Ms. Cavell the bell is about to ring. Head to class now” Adams ordered.

“Sir yes sir” Vada mocked and saluted him before turning on her heels, and walking to class. You chuckled lightly and continued following Adams.

The two of you made it to his office which smelled like straight black coffee and boiled eggs. You already knew what the talk was going to be about so you just relaxed in the chair.

“Jordan Vaughn…failing every single one of your classes and racking up a whopping 37 days absent. It’s not even spring break yet” Adams read from your file.

You grab a red and black sharpie off his desk.

“What is your goal Jordan? What is it that you wanna do with your life?” Adams asked.

You continue to draw all over the underside of your board, not even paying attention to the man in front of you.

Principal Adams sighed, “Miss Vaughn.”

At the call of your name, you look up at him, "Hm?”

“Listen I get it, school sucks and you don’t have a care in the world about your diploma. But you know who does... the world out there. Jobs won't even give you a second thought if you don't graduate. You need to start taking this seriously or you will be left behind while everyone around you is making it" Adams lectured.

"My goal is to become a pro skateboarder, last time I checked you don't need a diploma for it"' You shrugged.

"But you need money. You need money for the fees. You need money for sponsors. What if your board breaks? A diploma leads to jobs that lead to money which can help you become a pro skater.” Adams explained.

He had a point but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being right. Adams grabbed a pamphlet labeled, Summer School.

“You complete this program for one month this summer, you’ll be graduating with your friends next year,” Adams said and slid it toward you.

You reluctantly take it and leave the office before he could say another word.

The hallways were now empty due to everyone being in class now. You walk to your locker and open it. You are stunned to see an apple juice, strawberry Pop Tart, and an orange inside.

“What the fuck?” You questioned. You remembered putting this stuff back. You looked down the halls and saw you were alone. You shrugged and started chowing down on the food. After you finished you placed your board and the pamphlet inside.

SMACK!

You jumped at the noise beside you. It was then followed by laughter.

“I hate the both of you” You mumbled, mouth full of food as you looked at Quinton and Devyn. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in class?”

“Yeah, but Q saw you with Principal Adams so he texted me to come and wait for you in the hall. Why are you inhaling your food in front of your locker?” Devyn questioned.

“I was hungry. But I didn’t buy this though. It was in my locker when I opened it” You answered.

“Oh, food from Mother Theresa. I need one of those. Tell her to bring me some Burger King” Devyn joked. You rolled your eyes at the boy.

“Boys and Miss Vaughn, the three of you need to get to class before I-”

A loud bang is suddenly heard. Everything starts to go in slow motion for you as you see blood splatter against the school walls. Two more bangs are heard and a girl lets out a blood-curdling scream.

More bangs are heard, now in rapid succession. You barely process the fact Devyn is now on the ground in a pool of his own blood. You look up to see a kid from one of your classes standing there emotionless with an automatic rifle pointed toward Quinton.

“DEVYN!” You hear Quinton scream. It brought you back to reality as you looked down and saw Quinton holding his brother’s body getting blood on himself.

“Quinton! We have to go! Come on Quinton!” You shout as you pull him away from Devyn’s lifeless body. You push him to run down the hall. Another gunshot rings through the hall and you feel a searing pain in your hip area. You push through the pain, you quickly open the door to the girl’s bathroom and push Quinton inside before locking the door behind you. The two of you cram into a stall out of breath. Sweat was dripping down your face and tears were falling freely down Quinton’s.

Suddenly, the sound of metal hitting the floor made the both of you freeze.

“Who’s in there?” Quinton questioned.

No response.

“We’re not the shooter. It’s Matt Corgan, we saw him” Quinton added. As your adrenaline begins to fade, the pain comes back in full force.

More rapid gunfire outside the door makes everyone clench in fear.

“Do you know where he is now?” A fragile voice asked. You can hear another girl’s quiet cries in the stall next to you. But you were too focused on the pain.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, my brother” Quinton cried. Tears start to gather in your eyes from the pain and the current predicament.

“Come, come under” The girl ushered. You let Quinton crawl under first. You bend down to follow but a torturous pain shoots through your body.

“Ahh” You cried out. You lift up your hoodie and shirt to see a gaping wound pouring out blood.

“Jordan? What happened, you okay?” Quinton questioned.

You start to feel lightheaded and the world starts to spin and before you know it, you fall onto the tile floor with a loud thud. Quinton quickly unlocks the stall door to see you trying to keep your eyes open.

“No, no, no, no Jordan” Quinton cried and bent down to the floor. He lifted your tops and saw the wound.

“Shit, help me please” Quinton called out to the two girls. His voice was quiet enough for only the people in the bathroom to hear. He puts pressure on your wound which makes you groan and squirm. The two girls exit the stall but retreat when they see you on the ground.

“Please help me,” Quinton sobbed. The blonde-haired girl runs and grabs as many paper towels as she could. She hands some to Quinton and they put pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding.

“Hang on, Jordan” Quinton cried.

Meanwhile, your eyes start to flutter close but a warm soft hand brings you back.

“Hey, you have to keep your eyes open. Don’t close them. Don’t close your eyes” Vada’s voice echoes throughout your head.

Her eyes were bloodshot red and puffy with more tears falling freely down her face. She squeezes your hand tight to keep you from closing your eyes. The sound of police sirens and heavy footsteps can be heard.

“Oh thank God,” Quinton said.

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open but they were getting extremely difficult. They were getting heavier and heavier until your eyes closed and your hand went limp in Vada’s.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x oc #jenna marie ortega #g!p reader #jenna ortega #the fallout #vada cavell #vada cavell x reader

504 notes · View notes

ariesbilly · 1 month

Note

Steve should have cheated on Nancy with Billy

I mean when would he have had the time Nancy broke up with him like 2 minutes after he met Billy lmao

BUT

I do love a sloppy steve moment so imagine with me if you will:

Steve is happy in love with his girlfriend. Life is going great as far as he’s concerned. He’s at a Halloween party all dressed up dancing the night away with his girl. What could be better than this

He ends up in the kitchen at one point to get him and Nancy some more lunch. He’s still got a bounce in his step, grinning from ear to ear. Maybe he can convince Nancy to neck in the car later before she has to go home or he can sneak into her room… whichever

But then the new guy is suddenly at his shoulder, probably waiting for his turn at the punch. Steve’s all “oh hey man here you go” and makes to leave but billy starts his whole king Steve thing except this time without any venom. He’s being super flirty about it and Steve “never met a homosexual” Harrington is super confused and absolutely not picking up what Billy’s putting down so he leaves the exchange bewildered but also kinda horny for some reason… he’s probably just drunk. Whatever

Cut to Steve in the bathroom taking a piss when billy stumbles in all “oh oops my bad” like genuinely didn’t know anyone was in here but once he sees it’s Steve he goes from 😳 to 😏

Gets ESPECIALLY excited when he sees Steve’s dick is still hanging out and wooo boy that thing is impressive.

And Steve’s all awkward fumbling trying to get out like “oh yeah it’s fine I’ll just go lol” but then billy starts flirting with him again, starts talking about what a nice looking dick he has cuz billys just drunk enough to be a little too forward for his own good and Steve’s never had another guy talk about his dick outside of like locker room banter and it’s this sweaty shirtless guy with nice tits - wait what who said that - and Steve won’t lie he’s kinda getting hard about it…

So anyway cut to billy on his knees giving Steve a blowie in the bathroom that rocks Steve’s world and awakens him to some homosexual desires he previously did not have and billy sends him out back to his girlfriend and calls it’s a night

And the rest of the night Steve is thinking about billy and his mouth. Thinks about it when he’s fucking Nancy in the back of his beemer. Thinks about it the next day at school when they’re meant to be studying in the library. DEFINITELY thinks about it during basketball practice when hargroves rubbing all over him in those tight little shorts and like

Steve is NOT gay. Has never been gay. Him dragging Billy into the equipment closet after practice is just like…a fluke. An experiment to see if his drunk mind is still possessing his sober one.

But after a week of messy hook ups in janitors closets and under bleachers and the quarry on a Saturday morning steve doesn’t think he can keep blaming being drunk anymore…

#harringrove #briana answers things

103 notes · View notes

heartofwritiing · 8 months

Text

home is wherever you are tonight

paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

summary: its your birthday, a day you dread every year due to bad memories, and wilbur manages to change your mindset.

authors note: this has been sitting in my drafts since march and i forgot about it oops. this is completely self indulgent. Ive dreaded my birthday for the past five years because of personal reasons… i thought maybe writing a non-shitty fake birthday would make me feel better so, it did lol. enjoy!! :)

warnings: self indulgent, mentions of childhood trama, negative past events, mentions of toxic family, fluff, Wilbur being the cutest-best boyfriend, hurt-comfort, yes the title is a lyric from a lizzy mcalpine song.. unedited!

The day had come. the day you dreaded every year for as long as you could remember. it was your birthday.

Most people would be elated about turning another year older, to celebrate but not you. Instead, it filled you with utter disinterest and resentment. To you, it was just another day on the calendar.

Ever since you could remember you’ve just hated your birthday. Each year just felt like they got worse and worse with the number of times You had been let down. Whether it was by family drama or people just forgetting. It was the same every year. So when you finally moved away from your toxic relatives you pretty much forget about it. Only remembering when you'd get a text from your parents to wish you a happy birthday. At least they remembered now that you were gone...

You were relieved when no one at work had brought it up. you never really talked to your coworkers about your personal life, you weren't that type of person. Still, you were grateful the only attention you got today was from one of your peers Matt, asking about the printer in the office not working right.

When you walked into your flat, what you weren’t expecting was too see your boyfriend standing near the door waiting for you.

“why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” Wilbur asks in a slightly offended tone.

The front door hasn’t even shut yet and he’s caught you completely off guard with his question. Your heart drops in your stomach.

“hello to you too,” you snort, putting your bag down and sliding your jacket off. "And how'd you even know?" Avoiding the question. Cause that will make this better.

he sighs.

“Answer the question please, love,”

You’re toeing off the uncomfortable shoes you were required to wear at your job as you blankly bink back at him.

You can tell by the frowned expression on his face that he wasn’t just gonna let you drop this anytime soon. His arms are crossed over his sweater, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as his curls fall around his eyes.

“maybe because it's not a big deal,” you shrugged. Wilbur stops you with a hand on your shoulder before you can escape to your shared room. It wasn't forceful but gentle, his eyes asking you to stay, talk, anything. You just wanted to go to bed and sleep until your shift tomorrow and just forget about this whole day.

"What do you mean by that?" he asks. "I don't particularly like my birthday but still celebrate with friends, family, and loved ones."

There it was.

You wanted to avoid this.

"Look, I don't want to pressure you into talking about this, you can tell me when you're ready. I can tell how uncomfortable you got when I asked you outright why you didn't say anything about it being your birthday, I'm sorry..."

You could tell he was just confused and who could blame him. You had only been dating for about a year and finally moved in together last month. He didn't want to pressure you into anything you weren't ready for, which was one of the many things you adored about him. Always so patient and thoughtful about your feelings and well-being.

There was no avoiding it now as he asked the question. Your heart beating in your ears.

“Why don’t you like your birthday, love?”

“well…” you began, but you could feel the lump in your throat forming as you thought carefully how to put it. You clear your throat and take a deep breath. “I just, have a lot of trauma revolving around today,”

Wilbur has moved slowly towards you now, almost like you were a spooked animal and he was trying to calm you. He listened carefully as you spoke slowly.

“my parents fought a lot growing up, and even on my birthday they just didn’t seem to care, even for one day, so i mostly spent my birthdays alone.”

The look in his eyes says it all. He feels so heartbroken for you. You collapsed into his chest and he wrapped you in his arms, squeezing you firmly and you felt the weight in your chest fading.

"Well listen, I got you your favorite type of cake, a good bottle of wine, not that cheap shit, the really nice one we liked. we're gonna sit on the couch and eat, and you can tell me all about your day." he pauses only to bring your face out from his chest to look you in your eyes. "and then, we're gonna cuddle and I'm gonna tell you how much I love and appreciate you."

With that, he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs and kisses your nose softly. You swear that press of his lips was what made you cave. You began to break down in front of him.

Wilbur's hands seem to be the only thing keeping you upright at the moment. If he wasn't holding you, you were sure you would have fallen to your knees by now. You sob silently as you take his wrists in your hands but don't remove them from your cheeks. The intensity of the long work day and all the recurring memories this day brought you every year, combined with Wilbur's sweet gestures and words made you break.

You felt everything come down on you all at once, yet there Wilbur was, always waiting for you at the end of the day. Always there to comfort you and support you. So these weren’t sad tears no, they were happy tears. Finally, you found someone who cherished you and cared for you enough.

@trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @highstonedcat

#wilbur soot x reader #fanfiction #wilbur soot x fem!reader #cc!wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fanfiction #x reader #fluff #mcyt imagine #birthday fic 🥳#self insert

252 notes · View notes

beenbaanbuun · 3 months

Note

Not sure if this is a request or me just going insane after reading your dumbification yeo fic but oop-

Been thinking about jealous Yeosang nonstop since then because I always get a little disappointed when fics paint him as this super passive, open lover. I mean it's all well and good to be someone who's genuinely okay with their partner having multiple partners/being kinda flirty, but I honestly don't see him as the type to be that chill

I mean sure he wouldn't exactly be as loud or aggressive about it as sayyy.... Joong or Sannie, I am a switch!Yeosang enthusiast after all, but I still think he'd get upset if he saw you being too chummy with one of your guy friends or one of the other members.

Early on in the relationship it would probably be all cute, he gets pouty and quiet, maybe clingy after and he needs lots of affirmation and assurance before he feels secure again.

But once he's comfortable with you? C'mon, you CANNOT tell me he's not the type to pin you against the door as soon as you get home, hands and lips desperately latching on to you as you clutch at his hair, deep voice muffled by your skin as he seethes over That Guy who kept hitting on you or how Wooyoung was a little too touchy for his peace of mind (woo totally did it on purpose btw).

And oh my god if those angry growls turn desperate? If you're not responding verbally cuz you're just so overwhelmed by everything that's Yeo?? And he suddenly whines into your neck and nuzzles your pulse point seeking verbal affirmation??? And you grip his hair and he whimpers when you tug so he has to look you in the eye?????

I need to calm tf down before I drop a whole 1.5k word smut fic in your ask box but you get the idea XDD

Jealous yeo lives rent free in my brain and you're writing has him running LAPS TwT we as a fandom have failed to have enough yeosang smut on the market and it Saddens Me

~Lyra

i am CLINICALLY INSANE!!!!!!!! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME 😭😭😭

like i’m sorry but i can imagine him just pinning you to the door, fully clothed, and grinding up against you. his mouth is just on your neck, sucking, biting, kissing at your flesh until its mottled with purple bruises. like there’s literally no rhyme or reason, he’s just that desperate to his his mouth on you and mark you up that he barely gives you a minute to think straight.

like you’re still both fully dressed and your back is still presses uncomfortable against the door, but that doesn’t stop yeosang from bucking his hips up into yours, dry humping you because he doesn’t have the patience with you right now. he needs you to know that you’re his and his alone.

“can’t fucking believe you,” he growls before biting down on the soft flesh. you keen at the sensation, legs going weak. you’re glad he has you pinned to the door; if he didn’t, you might fall, “all over that guy as if you don’t have a perfectly good boyfriend who takes care of you. what? did you just want my attention? because now you have it.”

you whimper as he grinds down hard against your pelvis, his clothed hard-on rubbing so deliciously against your folds. you want him in you, but with everything that’s going on, you can barely think, let alone talk.

“s-sangie-” you choke out, trying to tell him how bad you need him, but you’re cut off by the whine that claws it’s way up your throat.

“what?” he grunts into your neck, “you want to tell me something?”

you nod, but no words come out. yeosang chuckles darkly into your neck.

“go on then, baby,” his teeth graze against you, threatening to add to the purple bruises that run up and down your skin, “if you’re going to tell me anything, tell me how bad you need me.”

you know it’s an ego thing. of course it is; yeosang was obviously hurt when he saw you flirting with the other man, and now it’s your job to repair that. and you would, if you could hold a thought for more than two seconds. you’d love nothing more than to stroke his ego, make him feel all big and powerful and like he’s the only man in the world.

but you just can’t. every time you open your mouth, you lose your train of thought and all that comes out is a few pants as yeosang tears your mind down to nothing. you cant even focus when he pulls back a little, studying your face with glassy eyes before diving right back into your neck. he doesn’t suck, or bite, or kiss this time. he just nuzzles the sticky skin with his nose, mumbling almost incoherent words against it.

“baby,” he says after a moment or two, voice a little breathier than before, “baby, please tell me me how much you need me. need to hear it.”

his tongue darts out and he begins to lap one of the bite marks, as if trying to soothe it. it only makes your mind race more.

as do the continuous whimpers that you can hear spilling into the air, only this time they’re not from you. they’re from yeosang.

yeosang who is still grinding into you, albeit with sloppier, softer motions than before. who is still pinning you to the wall, only with a more desperate grip, as if you’ll slip away if he lets go. who still has his face pressed against your neck, words slipping from his mouth, but now they beg rather than degrade.

“baby, please,” he whispers, and you feel something wet fall against your neck; a tear, “i need you tell tell me you need me.”

he sounds so pathetic, crying into your neck like that, and it soon sinks in that the tables have turned without you even really realising. the man that had pinned you to the door minutes prior, wanting nothing more than to teach you a lesson, had vanished. he’s been replaced by your baby boy, who was so desperate to hear how much you wanted him. so desperate to know that you loved him as much as he loved you.

you try your hardest to gather your thoughts, just enough for you to be able to scrape together a sentence or so. but with yeosang bucking against you like a dog in heat, its so incredibly hard. add that to the fact that he’s gone back to suckling at your neck like its going to bring him some sort of comfort and there’s no way you were getting a coherent sentence out.

so you lace you fingers into his hair, grateful of how long it had gotten, and tug. he lets out a long whimper, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you tug his far enough back to see his face. you tug again, wordlessly pleading for him to look at you. just once would be enough for him to see how thoroughly mindless he has you already. just once for him to understand that he is all you can think about right now.

#ateez x reader #yeosang hard thoughts #yeosang hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #ateez smut #yeosang smut

122 notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 3 months

Text

HAND THREE - TWO PAIR

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, a date is had.

wc: 2.5k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, some swearing, banter and dialogue driven, fake dating, pining and tension, todoroki enji jumpscare LOL

note: the two wolves living inside me is one wanting to rush the hell out of slow burn and the other telling me to make it painfully slow. however, i broke a little and made the pining a little obvious in this chapter oops. one day i will achieve the emotional release of s2 bridgerton bee sting scene. hope you enjoy !!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

“Show.”

“You first.”

“I’m royalty.”

“And I have the higher stack. Now, show,” you repeat and he scoffs, the corner of his mouth tugging upward and creasing the deep purple scars on his cheek. He turns his two cards face-up and, sure enough, you’d snatched another victory from the self-proclaimed Prince of Calculation. “I win again,” you smile and he begrudgingly pushes the pot to your side of the table, an amalgamation of garden pebbles, stray buttons, and a few gold coins you managed to produce. You were using whatever you had to gamble and the prince didn’t seem to mind. Touya, you remind yourself. You were supposed to call him by his first name throughout this whole charade, but it seemed as foreign on your tongue as a protruding third set of teeth.

“You’re a much more dangerous woman than you give yourself credit for,” he muses with a clever glint in his eyes. Over the course of the last month or so, you’d accumulated an immunity to his unwavering stares and scalding eyes; lately, it actually seemed you found a certain affinity for his intense nature, even when you were its only target. His sweetly poisonous words were the latest test to your composure. “If we dressed you as a man for the night, we could relieve an entire club of their purses before the clock strikes ten.” His pretty fingers dealt another two cards and you peeked at them from the bottom of your vision. Queen of hearts and two of clubs. Not the best hand.

“Hmm. How much of the pot would you use to bail me out for invading said club?” You lay out the first three cards, the flop, and flip the first over before betting a conservative amount. Four of diamonds.

“Who ever said anything about bail? I’d just sneak you out. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” he answers, calling your bet, and you can’t tell if he’s kidding. It was another piece you were still trying to solve of the puzzle that was the prince of the Todoroki family, how he joked so casually about breaking laws and dodging authority. The nonchalance of his recklessness made your stomach turn, sometimes, but you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or intrigue. You flip the second card of the flop. Two of hearts. A pair, if all else failed. You just had to hope he didn’t have anything either.

“For a royal, you seem to know a concerning amount about rule breaking. Do you have any intent to corrupt me?”

“By the end of our courtship, possibly.” Jack of diamonds. Not what you were hoping for as the third card, by any means. A flash of excitement lights up behind your opponent’s eyes, too purposeful to be genuine. You mentally added his poker tells to the never-ending list of things to figure out about him, right under the number of crimes he’s committed against the government. Tossing in a few medium-value flower petals, you’re unsurprised when he matches your bet again.

“Our courtship which, I’ll remind you, is causing quite the stir in the ton,” you point out while revealing the turn. Seven of hearts. You try not to let your disappointment in your current hand show on your face. The prince, you notice, looks like he’s trying a little too hard to contain his excitement. “You know, I suspect they might be rooting for us.”

“That’d be a new experience for me. Never received too much support in my endeavors before.” He places a high bet and you have no choice but to match it. If you were right about him lying, you would learn something new about his poker strategy; but, if you were wrong, you wouldn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the day. You flip the river and your heart stutters. Two of diamonds. You’re careful with your next bet, knowing that three of a kind wasn’t the best or worst hand you could create. The prince, however, pushes his entire hoard into the pot with a challenge in his eyes. He was trying to force you to fold.

You match the bet and reveal your hand.

Two pair versus three of a kind. The prince was bluffing, and you won again.

“At least this time, you’re not alone.” The admission is obvious but still catches both of you off-guard when you say it. You’re about to apologize for being too sentimental when that unreadable look passes over his face again, sudden as a lightning strike and gone just as quickly.

“I guess you’re right,” he murmurs, relinquishing the remaining pot of knick-knacks to you. “Though I will say, having my ass handed to me in a card game was not a part of my plan.”

“A woman with intellect is never part of a man’s plan, yet she prevails all the same,” you conclude and he hums in agreement, collecting the remaining cards and slotting them back into their box. A concerning thought occurs to you and you glance around the secluded palace courtyard with new-found suspicion. His eyes follow your own, watching you keenly in a way that was both comforting and unsettling.

“What is it?”

“Will the servants not whisper about a woman playing a man’s game?”

“They will whisper that you won, and that is what matters,” he states like a well-known fact. “Why? Is something bothering you about them?”

“No, I’m just mulling over this whole arrangement again.” You wave him off dismissively and take another sip of lemonade from your teacup. A drink which, when you’d finally agreed to meet the prince at the palace for a day, he ordered presumably because you both shared a distaste for tea. “How odd it is and how people gossip so.”

“A lady beating the prince at poker is hardly a scandal compared to what transpired last week,” he recalls with terribly-hidden amusement, breaking off a piece of scone and smearing a glob of berry preserves onto it. “Wouldn’t you agree?” Your cheeks heat when you think of the memory and you snap your fan open to cool yourself and hide your burning face. It certainly wasn’t your proudest moment, to say the least.

“Would you like me to retrieve a stick to keep your competition at bay?” You had jokingly asked, following his distracted gaze. It was your third ball of the season and your third public appearance with the prince; both you and your co-conspirator were forced to acknowledge the increasing number of interested suitors trying to pry you away. Dances, you found, were one of the few moments where other men weren’t climbing over each other for your attention. The only problem was being forced to share breathing space with him for an extended period of time. “Your Highness, why are you glaring like that?”

“I said to stop calling me that, and I’m not glaring,” he mumbled, very obviously glaring and avoiding your eyes. His hand stiffens around your waist, making your already-awkward distance from him more uncomfortable. It didn’t take long to notice that he was a fine dancer when he was with any other partner but you, and you figured it was because being in such close proximity was not part of your agreement. You raise a skeptical eyebrow, finally making him look at you when the silence indicates your displeasure. “Pay me no mind. I am only–”

“Moping like a kicked dog, that’s what you’re doing,” you interject and, in a blink, you’re back in another standoff with his intense stare.

“I don’t recall when you gained the right to comment on my behaviors so crassly.” Your eyebrows pinch, taken aback by his sudden hostility. His eyes were always burning, like embers in a fireplace, and it felt like the longer you looked at them, the less likely you’d be able to pull away. After a few moments of staring him down, you back off with a frustrated huff. You think you feel some of the tension leave him, too.

“If we are to keep up this ruse in a believable manner, I suggest you confide in me from time to time, especially if it causes you to act in unfavorable ways,” you state simply, your irritation obvious.

“You know nothing of my unfavorable ways.” The venom in his voice makes your heart sink, against your own judgment. His expression doesn’t soften, but his voice does. “Trust me. It’s not your burden to bear,” he says in a low tone and goosebumps spread across your arms, despite the fabric of your gloves and the sleeves of your dress. He meets your eyes and you could have sworn his gaze flickers to the neckline of your gown, but the action, like so many of his movements, is too quick to comment on. “So, let’s keep to our sides of the street, shall we?”

“You’re insufferable,” you hiss, letting your politely smiling face slip as the strings conclude the dance. “Enjoy the rest of the evening. I feel a bit faint.” The muscles in his jaw clenches and you turn on your heel to beeline for an exit when a strong hand grabs you by the wrist and pulls you backward. Before you can register where you’re moving, your hand is placed firmly on his forearm and you’re a split-second from slapping him when–

“Touya.” Shit. With a blank mind, you remember to curtsy from pure muscle memory, dipping deeply toward the ground while the prince bends at the waist.

“Good evening, Father.” Touya’s voice becomes empty, devoid of all sarcasm, teasing, and charm. A glance at his face tells the same tale, blank and emotionless. The only indication of his true thoughts came the slight shake in his arm and how he unconsciously tugged you closer and closer to his side. You let yourself be pulled in and your free hand moved on its own, coming to rest on top of his and running your thumb over his knuckles. He exhales shakily. “Father, this is–”

“I know who you are,” he says before you could be properly introduced, making your nostrils flare. The man besides you bristles and you wonder how such a hard-faced, stoic man could make such a reckless and carefree son. You’d never seen King Todoroki except in victory parades and newsprints of his alliance with King All Might, but you could recognize the family’s flaming eyes from miles away. You decided that, no matter how irritating the prince was, his father was lower on your ranking of the Todoroki royals. “Should you marry, are you aware of the responsibility of being the wife of a king?”

“I believe she is called a queen, Your Majesty,” you hear yourself say before you can stop yourself. From beside you, the prince makes a noise somewhere between a choke and a snort, and you direct your attention to the floorboards in hopes of surviving the king’s scathing reply. Despite the chatter of the party around you, it feels like your words were echoing off the gilded ceilings. The reprimand, however, never comes. The king turns back to his son with a look of suppressed wrath before turning and stalking away, a crowd of nobles crowing for his attention.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” he whispers in disbelief as he hurriedly guides you out of the hall and into one of the manor’s gardens, still within sight of nosy mothers but out of their earshot. Your hand hasn’t left his arm, nor has he tried to pry it off. If anything, you click into his side like a missing puzzle piece, and you’re confusingly reluctant to let go. “That was the worst possible way you could have answered that question,” the prince continues and your stomach turns.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” you reply with poorly masked shame, lowering your head and letting him walk ahead. Your hand detaches from his arm and you’re struck by the sudden lack of warmth. He turns sharply to look at you, looks back at his empty arm, and then back at you before closing the few feet between you. His eyes were burning into you again but he said nothing, watching you watch the blades of grass surrounding your shoes. Your voice is as quiet as the swaying summer wind. “If I have jeopardized our plan, I understand if you–”

“Stop,” he commands, and it takes a moment to register his gloved fingers under your chin, gently but firmly tilting your head to look at him. Your eyes trace the jagged lines of where his skin meets his scars and the world around you quiets. “I am…the opposite of angry with your actions.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not an easy task, talking back to my father. Yet, you performed it as easily as breathing,” he explains with a soft awe in his expression that made your breath catch in your chest.

“I guess I’ve had good practice, countering your arguments for the better half of the summer,” you agree hesitantly. What the hell was this feeling? For whatever reason, the world around you temporarily faded to static noise and blurred paintings, with the only decipherable images being the man in front of you. “So, you’re not unhappy with my behavior around your father?”

“I have never been prouder to be seen with you,” he reassures you and you finally crack a smile, his hand leaving your face and his feet stepping back to a respectful distance. “On another note, can you recall what we were arguing about before we were interrupted?”

“I can’t, unfortunately. I believe I was about to leave you alone on the dance floor to mingle with other suitors,” you joke and, though his expression remains relaxed, his eyes darken subtly.

“I wouldn’t let them so much as breathe in your direction,” he declares, your breath becoming stuck in your lungs again. “Plus, you were saying that you required a stick to fight them off.”

“I did not say I required a stick,” you counter, lightheartedly bumping your shoulder against his while you make your way back into the manor. He merely smiles, a rare, genuine smile. “Though, I would like to apologize for my brash observations.”

“You are forgiven.”

“Thank you,” you exhale, following him to the refreshments table.

“And…”

“Nevermind,” you backtrack, but he continues nonetheless.

“As reparation for insinuating that I act like an abused animal–”

“Which you do,” you retort quietly and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Next week, you will accompany me in receiving a visiting ally prince,” he says. “As it would be dreadfully boring to do alone and you, thankfully, bruised my ego, I will be dragging you with me on his guided tour of the kingdom’s market district.”

“Must I really attend?”

“Who’s acting like the kicked dog now?” He smirks and you have no choice but to go along with his plan. Now, after several rounds of beating his royal ass in poker, it was time for you to leave and prepare for the social night between the Takami and Todoroki kingdoms.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #touya x you #touya x reader #touya x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

123 notes · View notes