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#she just sorta casual brought it up and here i am
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sero on the brain tonight, because when isn't he
like just thinking about the dresses he buys you, with clear favoritism towards black, when he wants to take you to a fancy dinner. wants to see you all dolled up on his dime
how he'll sit across from you, slowly sipping his wine, as he stares at you. eyes a mix of hunger and adoration. and how his leg would brush against yours under the table, teasing you slightly to make you blush more
How he twirls you into his arms when your home once more, fingers playing with the straps on your dress, pulling them slowly off your shoulders as he hums in your ear how delicious you look in your ear just to feel your body shiver before him
*sigh* he's a dreamboat
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drawingjester00 · 1 year
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I was hoping to finish by Friday but had writers block but I decided to share another small part. @jaytriesstuff
Damian had two encounters with the ghost boy yesterday. The stupid boy was plaguing his thoughts. Damian was on his way to the animal shelter he volunteered at. He almost didn't notice the little mews from the alley. He peered down the alleyway. He saw a noirette boy holding a sphynx kitten.
Damian walked down the alley. He couldn't ignore the poor cat. He hoped the stranger was willing to give it to him without a problem.
"Hey, what are you doing with that cat?"
Danny looked up. It was the rich kid from yesterday. He was in casual clothes and walking full speed towards Danny.
Danny smiled, "I heard this little guy and wanted to help. Is there a shelter nearby?"
"Yes. I'm heading there now if you want I can take the cat."
"Nah I got it you can just lead the way."
"Fine if you insist."
"The name is Danny by the way."
"Well Danny, my name is Damian."
Damian waited for Danny to walk over to him before leading the way. Two cute strangers in two days. Whatever he did to deserve this he apologizes. This was just cruel now because of the all cute normal looking guys this one low-key looked like one of his father's adoptees. The silence was weird but luckily it didn't take long to arrive at the shelter.
"I can take her. They aren't your responsibility."
"Nah I wanna make sure this little one gets the attention they need."
Damian gave him a small smile. He can admire that.
"If you fill out a volunteer form you come to the back with me," Damian handed him the form and pen, "here that way you can help."
Danny smirked, "Do you invite every cute guy with a cat to the back to help?"
"No, because I haven't found a cute guy with a cat yet."
"I have doubts but who am I to question a cute guy."
"I'm not cute and I retract my offer. I find you annoying now."
"Too late," Danny filled out the paper as the cat sat on the ledge, "there now let's get the kitty some food."
Damian scowled and grabbed the paper. He muttered under his breath as he led Danny to the back where the cages are. He grabbed another paper.
"Fill out this as best you can. It basically describes the cat and why you're here. I do need to take her to the back for a regular check-up before we feed her."
Danny gave Damian the sphynx kitten before filling out the papers. Damian brought the kitten back to the other parts of the shelter. He looked for Selina before spotting her in the supply closet.
"Selina, I have another stray cat for you."
She stepped out of the closet noticing the cat in Damian's arms, "you and both know your father or Alfred doesn't want us bringing more cats in."
"Not to adopt but he needs a check-up."
"I can sure do that. Is that cute kid your with the one who found," she checks the cat's gender, "who found her."
"He's not cute but yes. She was in the alley by Grand street. How did you know I came here with someone?"
Selina gestured to the security room, "Poor thing. Let's have a look then."
"Thanks, Selina."
Damian brought the cat to Selina's examination room before going back to Danny.
"Where's my cat?" Danny looked around frantically.
"She's fine. She's getting a check-up by the best vet," Damian smirked, "So she is your cat now."
"I mean I would like her to be."
"Aren't you only visiting Gotham? How do you plan on keeping and bringing her home?"
"Good point but I'll think of something."
"Well while you're formulating a plan you can help me take care of these guys."
Damian shows Danny the routine. They worked pretty well with one another. There were a couple of other volunteers but none of them usually talked to Damian. It was weird seeing him sorta smiley.
They were putting the last of the dogs away when Selina came out holding the cat. Danny instantly rushed over.
"You must be the one who found her. What's your name?"
"Danny Fenton ma'am. "
"Well, Danny it's a good thing you brought her in when you did any longer if the cold didn't get her starvation would have."
"Will she be okay?"
"Yes, she just needs proper food and warmth. Damian. Why don't you two take the kitten—"
"Cleo."
Damian looked at him confused, "what?"
"Her name is Cleo, like Cleopatra except she is a cat. So it's Cleo-paw-tra."
Selina stifled a laugh and Damian groaned. This kid is a dork.
"Okay, then why don't you two take Cleo to what we call the pamper station. She's gonna need a warm bath, food, and love."
"Yes ma'am," Danny grabbed the cat then Damian's hand, "lead the way short stuff."
Damian scowled but his tan skin couldn't hide his blush. He muttered something under his breath and dragged the boy along. Selina smiled as the boys left.
Damian brought them into the pamper room. He started the warm bath and filled it with a bit of bubbles. Damian put on long thick gloves.
"What's that for?"
"These will help protect your arms. She might try to claw us when we bathe her," Damian grabbed the cat, "put on a pair."
Danny listened. It was a weird feeling but it was not any weirder than the feeling of being possessed or possessing someone. Luckily the cat seemed to enjoy the bath. The pair chatted a bit. Damian paused to think about something before looking straight at Danny.
"Have you seen a ghost boy since you came here?"
"A what?"
"Ghost. A supernatural spector."
"Nope. You must have been seeing things."
"I most definitely did not imagine a vampire-like creature fighting with a cute ghost only to be sweeped into his arms after."
Danny turned red. Damian thought his ghost half was cute. It seems to be a trend. To be fair they just met and Damian doesn't know they are the same. While his brain was malfunctioning because of the offhand compliment his pants decided to go intangible. Damian raised a brow. Danny just about completely died.
"Charming. Usually, people have dinner or a movie first before taking off their clothes."
"I can explain."
"Why don't you pull up your pants."
Danny listened, absolutely embarrassed.
Damian chuckled, "so ghost. That's an interesting choice."
"Let's not discuss this. It's embarrassing enough without you complimenting my boxer pattern."
"Mhm. She's all clean. Dry her off then put her on the heated animal bed. I'm gonna go grab her food."
Danny grabbed a towel and dried off Cleo. She was looking better already. He looked around the room spotting the beds Damian mentioned. He brought Cleo over who happily made herself comfortable. Damian came over a few moments later with wet food and a bowl of water. Before either one of them could say anything a big green dog phased through a wall.
"What the fuck."
"Damian, go grab a dog toy. I'll go grab treats."
Damian listened, running to the toy bin. Danny changed into his ghost form. Cujo growled at him.
"What's the matter, boy?"
The dog barked at him. Danny was confused. Cujo is usually a good dog. He changed into his ghost form.
"Cujo it's me. Why are you all worked up?"
Damian squeaked the dog toy. The dog didn't pay any mind to it and instead went for Cleo.
"Is this about Cleo? Aw puppy you're not being replaced, I still love you," he scratched under Cujo's chin, "who's a good boy?"
Cujo shrank to his puppy form, his tail wagging happily. Danny pet the dog for a bit before grabbing the thermos. He pops the cap and the ghost dog goes in. Fanny sighed relieved.
"So Cujo. That's a pretty unique name."
Danny jumped, "hello Uh civilian."
Damian rolled his eyes, "you know if you wanna keep your identity a secret you really should be less obvious. "
"It's not what it looks like I swear."
"Danny, relax. I'm not gonna tell anyone. I'm more embarrassed that you know that I think you're cute."
"I totally forgot you said that."
Damian groaned. Of course this would be his luck. He didn't like the look on Danny's face.
"I would turn back before someone else sees you."
"Awe you care," Danny laughed as Damian threw the toy at him, "alright no need to get violent."
Danny changed back into his normal self. He was a bit worried about Damian knowing but there isn't anything he could really do now. He would have to let Sam and Tucker know later. For now he was just gonna have fun with it.
"So you think I'm cute."
"I believe I have also told you I can kick your ass and will if I feel the want to do so."
"For the record I think you're cute too."
Danny could see the blush take over Damian's cheek. It was super cute.
"How's Cleo?"
Danny looked over. In the time it took to deal with Cujo she ate and was down for a nap. Danny petted Cleo, smiling softly. Damian scurried off to put away the dog toy. Both of them knew Damian was just trying to get away from the situation.
When Damian came back he had a big blanket.
"I don't think Cleo would appreciate being buried with that," Danny gestured to the blanket, "what's it for."
"You. She needs human contact. If you followed we have mats and stuff in the playroom so you can cuddle with her. "
Damian scurried off and Danny scooped up the cat and followed. Damian was walking fast like he was being followed by some degenerates.
"Hey slow down. I don't wanna jostle her."
Damian stopped and mumbled a sorry. He continued to lead him. They ended up in a big room full of toys, beds and cat towers.
Danny put down the kitten. Cleo took a few careful steps before going to play. Damian watched as Danny played with her. It was cute. The minute that thought popped into Damian's head he shooed it out. It doesn't matter how cute Danny is, they also just met. He can't go crazy over him yet. Then it dawned on him. He kissed Danny after being 'rescued'. Although on the cheek it was no less embarrassing.
"Hey Damian you okay looking a little red."
Damian jumped not realizing how close Danny had come to him. He socked him in his arm and muttered a shut up. Danny laughed.
"You're annoying, I regret everything now shoo." Damian pouted.
"Aww don't be like that. We both know you don't actually want me to leave. Plus you're cute when you pout."
Damian scowled, " I'm not cute! Keep it up ghost boy I'm gonna—"
"Gonna what. Kick my ass? Feed me to the dogs? Call a priest? Yeah I can escape from all those situations."
Damian huffed and crossed his arms. Danny chuckled and went back to playing with the cat. They hung out there for a while. It was approaching dinner time when Selina came in.
"Alfred called and said he wants you home for supper. "
"Are you going home now too?"
"Once Brittany comes in I can go if you want to wait for me. Does your friend need a ride?"
Danny looked away from the cat, "No ma'am."
Selina nodded, "Okay get ready to go Brittany should be here soon."
Damian acknowledged her and she left. They clean up the mess and set up Cleo temporary home. Damian seemed nervous. Danny can't think of any reason why. Damian tugged on Danny's sleeve. Danny turned and looked at him. Danny's breath got caught in his throat. He knew in his ghost form he had unnaturally green eyes but Damian's were different. The sparkled almost like a light shining through an emerald.
"I was thinking," Damian shuffled a bit uncomfortable, " maybe we can hang out again. "
"Hell yeah, " Danny handed Damian his phone, "give me your number and we can talk about it."
Damian grabbed Danny's phone. He rolled his eyes at the ghost wallpaper. He put in his name and number. He was excited. Not long after Damian and Selina left.
Danny shot Sam a text asking where they were. She texted back with a map link. He hurried over.
"You guys won't believe what just happened."
"Does it have to do with that stupid look on your face?" Sam asked as she picked off the cheese on her slice.
"This is just my regular face!"
Sam rolled her eyes, "Mhm what happened?"
"You remember the kid I saved yesterday," both teens nodded, "well I saw him again and I got his number."
Tucker choked on his pizza. Sam patted his back until he stopped. Tucker looked at Danny bewildered.
"You're telling you got a billionaire, ward of Bruce Wayne, practically a celebrity phone number."
"Oh yeah I forgot he was wealthy but yeah. He's really down to earth. He's snarky, cute, great with animals, and he was totally cool with the ghost thing."
"He was cool with getting kidnapped," Sam looked at him, "Danny you sure this is a good idea."
"No not with getting kidnapped but me being a ghost anyway there is no way—"
Tucker and Sam stood up at the same time and yelled, "he knows?"
Danny smiled sheepishly, "I wasn't planning on telling him but you know some stuff happened it was unavoidable. I'll explain later."
"Explain now!"
Danny ran through everything that happened. He started at finding the cat and ending with the phone number without leaving out a detail. Both of his friends were stunned. Danny happily stole a slice of the pie and ate. It was a good day.
Selina was quiet the first half of the ride. He knew what was coming though. As if on cue Selina lowered the music.
"So that boy. Who is he?"
"A friend."
"Just a friend?"
"As of now, yes. We just met Selina."
"Mhm. And you already gave him your number."
Damian groaned," it's not a big deal."
"So it totally has nothing to do with the fact he is exactly your type and an animal lover."
"Not going to dignify that with a comment."
Selina chuckled at her son's now red cheeks. Hopefully this boy doesn't break his heart. Dealing with heartbreak after Jon was hard and he just now got to a good place.
"Regardless, I'm in your corner. He seems like a kind kid and it's nice seeing you opening up again. I'm proud of you no matter the outcome."
"Thanks," Damian paused, "thanks mom."
It took all of Selina's willpower not to gush. Damian was the last of the kids to come around after Bruce and herself got married. She smiled and put up the music and focused on getting home.
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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 years
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The Ritual
Summary: When five teens completed a mysterious ritual, they decided to ignore the changes it wrought. Now, five years later It’s time to face reality.
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“I’m so sorry,” the man says, hands falling away from her neck. He buries his face in them so that only his red beard peaks out. “I just don’t know how to kill you.”
Ashlyn gasps for air. She can feel the imprint of his fingers along her throat and each steady beat of her heart rings loud in her ears. “Understandable,” she wheezes. “I myself am somewhat at a loss.”
She’s not sure how long she’s been in this warehouse. A few hours at least, likely more. The windows are covered with cardboard and the damp smell of mildew tells her that they’ve been covered for a long time. No sunlight peeks through, no outside sounds, no indications of time passing at all. When the assassin had first brought her here, she’d assumed it’d be the last thing she’d ever see. Twenty-years-old and dead with soggy cardboard the last thing she sees.
Now, surrounded by shocking cables, bent knives, and shattered clubs, she feels her irritation at her attempted assassination slip into pity.
“Maybe fire?” she suggests. It’s a strange sort of lunacy to suggest her own mechanism of murder. But something in her had shifted after the assassin - Dylan? Dexter? - pressed a stake to her heart, raised a mallet with his other hand, and shattered the wood rather than plunge it into her chest. “Fire usually feels hot to me.”
“I tried that,” the assassin says. He climbs off of her and throws himself into the wooden chair she’d been tied to when he’d tried slitting her throat. “Right after the electricity knocked you out. You wouldn’t catch.”
“That’s weird,” she says. The rafters above her looks just as sodden as the room smells. “Did the flame go out or…?”
“Just sorta flickered,” he says, waving his hand once before closing it into a fist. He tips his head back, eyes closed, and presses his fist to his chest. “What sort of creature doesn’t burn?”
That’s what I’d like to know, she thinks. Out loud, she says, “Would you believe I’m not a vampire now?”
“Yes.” He sits up to glare down at her. “But you’re something and that something is still part of the coven. It’s my job to eliminate all members of the coven so we are not leaving here until you’re dead!”
Since he hasn’t been wildly successful in that direction, she can’t bring herself to be too upset. “Hurrah,” Ashlyn says, pumping a fist in the air. She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see his reddening face. “That’s the spirit.”
Silence rises around them. She breathes deeply, feeling every ache and contusion in her body, and listens to water drip on the other side of the room. There are probably rats in here. She bets that there are a lot of rats that will feast on her body once this man figures out how to—
The assassin’s breath hitches. He sniffles. His breath hitches again.
Ashlyn opens her eyes. “Are you crying?”
“No!” The assassin sniffs and frantically scrubs at his face. “I’m not!”
Ashlyn sits up painfully. Her ribs aren’t broken, but certainly not for lack of trying. The assassin is twisted away from her, hunched over his knees with his hands over his face again. “Hey, listen. Dylan, listen to me.”
“It’s Dexter.”
Damn. She only had two names to choose from and she guessed wrong. She recovers quickly. “Dexter. Don’t be upset!” She reaches out to pat his knees. “You are doing a wonderful job killing me.”
Dexter blows his nose on his flannel. “Really?”
“Oh yeah,” she says. It’s sort of gross how wet his jeans are with her blood so she quits patting his knee. “Honestly? Ten out of ten. If I were a normal person or even a normal vampire, I’d be dead several times over.”
“You would be, wouldn’t you?” Dexter looks cheered by the thought. “I’ve used that stake on ten vamps. It’s never failed me before.”
“It’s definitely my fault that it failed now,” she assures. Her cracked ribs are nearly healed. She leans on one hand as casually as she can and keeps her expression even when her fingers brush the hilt of one of Dexter’s abandoned knives. “You’ve proven yourself a very capable vampire hunter.”
“I’ve already killed all of your coven members,” Dexter says. He ticks them off on his fingers. “Maybell, Roger, Kassius and Adelaide. Bomb, fire, stake and stake again. That’s just this week!” He puffs his chest out. “You’re right. I’m doing a really good job.”
Ashlyn’s glad he’s not looking at her as he lists her fallen coven members. She slowly palms the knife. “That’s right, you did. They were really strong too. But you’re stronger, right?”
Dexter shoots to his feet. “I am! My family’s been stronger than vampires for generations. Hundreds have laid dead at my feet!”
“Overcome!” She cheers as he looks boldly into the middle distance. She brings her legs under her as quietly as she can. “Vanquished! Conquered!”
“Exactly!” He twists back to look down at her, a crazed look in his eye. “And you’re next!”
“I think the fuck not,” she says, surges to her feet, and plunges the knife right in his throat.
———-.
Ashlyn stomps into the apartment with blood still dripping from her hems. “Really?” She can hear the TV on in the living room and stalks right for it, slamming the door behind her. “A bomb?”
Maybell peeks over the couch. Her green eyes are distinctly guilty under her heavy bangs.. “Oh, hey, Ashlyn. You, uh, met Dexter?”
Roger, in the process of plugging in the Xbox, doesn’t look guilty at all. “How’d he kill you? I set a mannequin on fire and he legit thought it was me.”
“I pity let him stab me,” Adelaide says, twirling her auburn hair and lounging in the arm chair. Her eyes are glued to the romance novel in her hand. “After the gun failed.”
Kassius, sitting at her feet, raises his hand for a high five. “Same!”
Adelaide high fives him without looking, before turning the page of her book.
“He held me captive for eight hours,” Ashlyn seethes.
Roger whistles. “That’s commitment to the bit.” He tosses a controller to Maybell with supernatural speed. “I think I played with him for about an hour tops.”
“Thirty minutes,” Maybell says. The screen loads with Mario Party. “I call being Princess Peach!”
“I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear,” Ashlyn says. She rounds the couch so she can stand in front of the TV. Her roommates all protest, but she ignores them easily. “I was held captive against my will for eight hours while a madman proclaiming himself to be a vampire hunter tried to kill me.” When they continue to stare at her, she waves a hand at her bloody clothes. “And failed! Repeatedly!”
“You didn’t pretend to die?” Adelaide asks, surprised. She rests her book on her chest. “That’s kind of mean, Ashlyn. He was really trying.”
“He’s got a wife and kids,” Kassius says. He shrugs when Adelaide raises an inquiring eyebrow. “I overheard him on the phone with them after he staked me.”
“Aw,” Maybell says. She smiles. “That’s so cute. Little vampire hunters!”
“He had a wife and kids,” Ashlyn says waspishly. “Back before I stabbed him in his stupid, murderous throat.”
Her roommates gasp. Roger presses a hand over his mouth. “Ashlyn, how could you?”
“Easily,” Ashlyn snaps. When they all continue to glare at her, she throws her hands up in the air. “Am I taking crazy pills? It doesn’t concern you guys at all that we, apparently, can’t die?”
“Good thing we can’t,” Adelaide mutters, “or else you’d have to worry about your immortal soul after killing Dexter.”
“He was trying to kill me!” Ashlyn doesn’t know why she ever thought living with these three was a good idea. Nostalgia from their childhoods growing up on the same street? An early warning sign of lunacy? “He was failing! I got stabbed, electrocuted, strangled, choked—“
“Geez,” Roger says, impressed. “He really went all out on you.”
“What’s the difference between choked and strangled?” Kassius asks Adelaide. Adelaide shrugs.
“”It’s also sort of an issue that we got mistaken as vampires by an actual vampire hunter,” Ashlyn continues. “Like, a real vampire hunter. One with lots of kills.”
Maybell frowns. “That is kind of weird. We totally go out in daylight and everything.”
“I thought we were vampires,” Ashlyn says. She feels tired all of a sudden. She sinks to the floor, uncaring of the blood that gets on the carpet. After the ritual, she doubts they get their deposit back. “I was really, really hoping that we’d just be vampires.” The other three exchange a long look. Ashlyn feels her temper snap to life. “What?”
“Nothing!” Maybell fidgets on the couch. Ever since their stupid, teenage-mistake ritual, she’s been more restless, always tugging at her clothes and kicking her feet. “It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“You had expectations?” Maybell asks. Her lips twitch as if she’s resisting a smile. “We read mysterious, untranslated Latin in a drunken ritual and you had expectations for what would happen?”
“Ashlyn’s always been an optimist,” Adelaide tells Kassius.
“Ashlyn’s always been an idiot,” Kassius mutters.
“At least I’m not the idiot who brought the ritual home from the library!” Ashlyn buries her face in her hands. Then, when the dried blood rubs against her skin, she roughly rubs her palms against the cleanest part of her shirt. “Now we have no idea what we are, we can’t die, I’ve killed a man—“
“Yeah, that’s kind of fucked,” Roger says. “He had kids.”
“He was trying to kill me!” Ashlyn screeches. To her horror, she feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “Guys, please don’t tell me I’m alone here. I am freaking out. What did we do to ourselves? What have we become?”
“Hey,” Maybell says. She slides off the couch and crawls over to Ashlyn. It’s like they’re kids again, ducking under the low door of the tree house. She wraps her arms around Ashlyn. “Sh, don’t cry! We didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Kassius is on his knees, torn between going to Ashlyn’s side and refusing to take responsibility for her tears. “We’re still alive, Ash. We’re still us.”
“But we don’t know how long it’ll stay that way,” Ashlyn sobs. She wipes at her tears. They haven’t talked about that night, not really. At first it was because they didn’t believe anything had happened. Then, she thinks, it’s because they refused to admit anything had changed. They were just kids and then they were moving out and then they were here. “When— when the ritual finished, I felt something. I felt an energy inside of my chest. I-it changed me. Changed us.”
Maybell hugs her tighter, conveying without words that she remembers. Ashlyn feels a knot in her chest ease even as the tears continue to pour down her face. She didn’t imagine it. They changed and this fiasco with Dexter has highlighted those changes in a very real way.
“It’s like we’re kids again,” Ashlyn whispers. “Just— without any control. I hate it. I hate it.”
“Oh geez,” Roger says. He rubs a hand over his face and then slides to the floor as well. “Ashlyn. Look at me.” When she refuses to, he reaches for her hand. “Look at me.”
She looks up to find his face only a foot away. For the first time in a long time, his eyes are serious. She swallows, hard. “What?”
“We are not helpless here,” Roger says. He sits back on his heels. “I’m sorry we’ve been taking this so lightly. I don’t think any of us haven’t had the same thoughts you’ve had. We’re all worried. We’re all scared. We’re in this together, okay?”
Wordlessly, Ashlyn nods.
“He’s right,” Adelaide says. She’s the only one not on the floor, but she’s set her book aside and her full attention is on them. That’s as good as being part of the group hug forming for her. “We aren’t helpless. We may not know what the ritual was, but we can change that. We have the book. We have our memories of that night. Just four years ago, right? It’s still fresh. There are answers out there. We can find them. Together.”
“Together,” Maybell says firmly.
“I don’t know,” Kassius says, “I kinda wanted to enjoy being immortal for a while—ouch!”
Roger rubs the spot on the back of Kassius’ head he just slapped. “Together,” he says. He smiles at Ashlyn. “Like always.”
Ashlyn feels a lonely, scared part of her ease in that moment. The day she’s had, the torture, the murder, all seems to fade away. She has her friends with her, finally on the same side. “Together.”
Maybe she’s glad she roomed with her childhood friends after all.
“Of course,” Kassius says, “we should probably send Dexter’s wife some flowers first.”
This time, Ashlyn hits him first. 
 -----
Thanks for reading! I love writing scenes with loooots of characters so this was a fun exercise for me! there’s something about a pack of new adults roaming around with immortal ritual-related consequences that appeals to me!
I post all my stories a week ahead on Patreon! Read next week’s story there now :)
Summary: You don't ever want to be the main character. In your town, that's deadly. Someone has to warn the new kid. He’s really, really cool.
Patreon (X)
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angeliteonfridgeduty · 7 months
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hi i'm alive, here you go have your daily dose of my silly md au scribbles
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this is Y, and now i'm going to casually use her as an excuse to explain assembly drones because let's be honest it's about time i actually did that Y specifically because 1. i drew her 2. she's literally the very first assembly drone character i've ever brought into this cursed land so she technically started all this so basically yeah uhhhh uhhhhhhhh basically these idiots are, for the most part, a bunch of "disassembly drones should die"-minded worker drone individuals that casually, you guessed it, hunt down disassembly drones and kidnap their parts which they either attach to themselves or build some new messed up weaponry shit out of later to shank disassembly drones more efficently yes i am aware that their name is like incredibly cheesy i just can't think of another one for the love of me so "assembly drones" will have to do for now lmao silly taser tails are basically the faction's signature trait sorta thing. they diy those out of dd parts like usual
the whole faction has a bg actually but i won't give you that today because this is about Y and not the whole assembly drone community today and uhh because i'm still developing said bg lol
anyway enjoy this image of what i am only willing to describe as "the average cluster gem maker but murder drones" as i descend back into my casket for until i draw something else to casually showcase to yall
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eliza-cuh · 1 year
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ice cream and a kiss
Billy Hargrove x reader
a/n: hey guys! so this is a chapter from a story i wrote over the summer! lmk if yall want more from this “story” or i can continue on this one! <3
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It was a Tuesday afternoon and you had just gotten back from school. You took the day off from work to have a little break. You thought in your room of what to do so you got dressed to go to the mall.
You hadn't been in a while so you thought it would be nice. Even if you didn't buy anything. You grabbed your moms car keys and locked the door behind you.
You got to the mall and parked sorta far, because it was a Tuesday it wasn't all that busy. You just walked around for a little then you actually went in some stores.
You didn't really go shopping a lot. It brought back lots of memories. Your dad would always take you shopping on Sunday afternoons and then get ice cream. So after every mall trip you had to get ice cream.
You walked in to one store you had never been before and slowly walking around. You were still at the front when you saw a familiar face. Billy? You thought to yourself. You tried to slowly and casually make your way to him. He finally noticed when you were looking at a rack of clothes behind him.
"Hey Y/N" he smirked "I see you following me around"
You dramatically act offended "I am not!" You giggle and he smiles at you.
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work with dick head Herrington?"
You giggled at that name "He's not that bad"
"Well thats cause you're a girl"
You jokingly rolled your eyes "I took the day off." You too continued to talk for a good while about Hawkins, school, Steve, parties, ect. You eventually started walking around the mall with him as you talked. He was really nice.
You found a store you absolutely love so you walked in and he followed. Watching and listening as you got excited over everything in the store. You ended up picking out some stuff.
Billy waited in line with you. You both kept chatting with each other. When it was your turn you both went for your wallets. Billy saw you and quickly took out his card.
"Billy put that up" You snapped at him trying to find your wallet.
"I got it princess, don't worry" he gave the cashier his card. You rolled your eyes and put your wallet up. After he paid you took your stuff and left. "It was just a few things, don't get mad" He said after you had left
"I'm glad you did. I didn't like that cashier" Billy chuckled and looked at you
"Why not?" He looked at you for an answer but you just gave him a "are-you-stupid" look. "Ooo someone is jealous"
"No I'm not, she was just... really friendly.. to you" you paused "and she was rude to me" you pouted. He looked at you and then down at your hand. You looked up at him and you grabbed his.
After a few minutes you guys made a loop "Hey Billy?" you asked.
"Yes princess?"
"Do you want to go get ice cream with me?"
He paused then responded "yes of course I would love too"
• • •
You two had gotten your ice cream and you went to sit in Billy's car as it was getting dark out. You guys were just hanging out, talking, flirting, and laughing.
"So.. why did you want to get ice cream with me?" Billy asked.
"Oh- uhm.." you hesitated a little.
"You don't have to share I dont care. It was cute" he smiled at you
"Its fine," you reassured him "it was a special thing me and my dad would do every Sunday after shopping.. he left though" you immediately took a bite of your ice cream so you didn't have to talk.
"Really?" Billy said in shock "that sucks Y/N"
"Its fine, we are still on good terms but know he's my only parent"
Billy looked at you confused "What do you mean?"
"My mom just stays in her room all day" You took another bite. Billy just stared at you.
"My mom left me.." he said. You looked up at him. You felt, connected to him.
 "Really?" he nodded his head.
"Im sorry Billy.. I wish I could help you" you said as you finished your ice cream.
"Its fine, I can handle it" he paused "thats what men do-"
"No Billy thats not what men do." You made eye contact with him. Sitting up and adjusting yourself to face him. "Billy thats not a healthy way to think"
He shook his head "Billy.." you put your hand on his. He looked in your eyes, then your lips, then back up to your eyes.
"Can I kiss you?"
"Of course princess"
You slowly moved your body to his and he did the same. omgomg Im about to have my first kiss! You slowly angled your head and kissed him. It lasted a few minutes before you pulled away smiling.
"Was that your first time?"
"Yeah.." Billy smirked at thought of him ruining your innocence.
After a nice make out session he drove you to your car. "Lets do that again sometime?" Billy asked you
You giggled "Sure" You shut his door and you got in your car. He waited for you until you pulled out of the parking lot.
• • •
When you got home you couldn't stop thinking about Billy. When you took a shower you thought about Billy. When you read your book you thought about Billy.
You were cleaning up getting ready for bed when your phone started to ring.
Its almost 10:30.. You picked up the phone "hello..?"
"Whats this about you and Billy kissing in the mall parking lot?"
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three--rings · 2 years
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So I'm just randomly remembering this Incident from my past, and like, wow it's hilarious in hindsight.
So I'm going to tell the internet about it. (Being vague about details both for privacy sake and because uh, two of my mutuals would know the people involved.)
So one time in college, I was at a party. It was fairly well along when one of my good friends appeared (she had been missing for a suspicious amount of time) and took me by the hand and led me upstairs to a bedroom.
I walked into that room to discover two entirely naked friends of mine. Just sitting on the bed, naked, with an assortment of sex toys casually displayed in the area.
So we have Friend A, who had thrown on some clothes to come get me. Her boyfriend, Friend B, who was entirely naked next to a pink dildo. And Person C, who was a woman I knew to be a regular sexual partner of my friends and who I was only loosely acquainted with.
So here I am, having been invited into this room of people who clearly have recently been having sex. And I sit down and we chat and like, joke around a little.
But no one brings up....you know, sex. I don't comment on the fact they are bare ass naked with used sex toys like inches from me. Neither do they.
After a few minutes I'm like, "Well, okay, I think I'm gonna go, it's kinda late" or something and just...leave.
Now, look, in hindsight, what obviously happened was the three of them were fooling around and decided "Hey, let's invite Threerings to join in!" To be clear, I hadn't been really involved with any of them, although I'd made out with Friend A at another party, I think, by that point. There may have been some second or third base action as well...
But like, it was definitely not out of the realm of possibility for them to invite me for sex. We were flirty.
Except none of the actual verbal invitation HAPPENED. Probably from their POV they were feeling me out and I wasn't down so I left. But like, I'm pretty sure if they'd actually ASKED or like, actually made a move I'd have been down.
But they didn't ask and my anxiety-having ass certainly DIDN'T know what to say. Like what if I made an assumption they wanted to have sex with me and I was WRONG. Mortification for LIFE.
So I acted like a fucking awkward Englishman in a period novel who stumbled into a brothel and was like "Right-o chaps, lovely weather we're having, this wine has a delightful bouquet."
In consolation to myself if it had been a few years later I wouldn't have been so fucking awkward and would have reacted like an actual human and, yanno, brought up the nudity and waggled my eyebrows and things would have probably progressed from there. I did get BETTER at both being a slut and, you know, life.
So that's the story of the time I was invited for a foursome and just...sorta missed the invitation, despite all the BLATANT CLUES. (I honestly cannot stress enough how much, at the time, I was unsure what was going on.)
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fakeloveaskblog · 1 year
Text
Epilogue
-5 Years Later-
The snow had piled up around the houses as it did nearly all times of the year here. Virgil had moved to a state up north, nearly bordering on Canada, a few years ago because he’d hoped it would help him to not think about Remy as much. It sorta helped.
His apartment was empty right now since he was still at work. Well not completely empty. Three big cats were a laying near the window pan licking up the warm rays of sunlight coming in. Bela was the first to notice when a glowing ghost appeared in the middle of the room but Boris and Elsa soon followed along since they all knew the ghost usually brought cat treats.
“Hey. My little monsters, I’m home” Virgil said as he got home. 
He threw off the overalls and gloves he had on while working while letting out a long tired sigh. He’d upgraded from just being forklift certified, now he could drive excavators as well! He mostly built though, carrying brick and that sort of stuff. Getting to work physically helped begrudgingly somewhat with his anger issues.
Bela let out a loud sqwuak at her papa being home followed by Boris running up rub his face against Virgil’s leg while Elsa was still focused on getting treats. A big stupid grin appeared on his face, one which he only showed to his cats, as he hunched down and petted them. When Virgil saw the ghost, or more realistically saw her bright pink glow reflecting over his floor he casually said hi before continuing on with his after work routine. The ghost showed up pretty regularly, at least once every other week, he and the cats were all used to it. 
While he poured up some microwave soup for himself and filled up the cat’s food bowls he talked to the ghost about a new movie he was interested in seeing before asking if maybe she wanted to play a game of scrabble (the halloween edition). Before adding some half hearted threat about how he was totally gonna beat her this round.
From the outside looking in he might have looked a little lonely as he relaxed on the couch as his cats surrounded him to take all his heat and a faint glow of a ghost set up a game of scrabble, but really he was quite content.
--
Logan cleared his throat and changed the page in the book he was reading. The only other sound near him was the nearly constant tapping of keyboards coming from Janus. They were working on an essay for their university course in philosophy. Both Remus and Remy thought they sounded a bit insane for taking university courses ‘for fun’ but they just really enjoyed bitching about the topics they were passionate about. Such as what a buffon George Berkeley had been. Lo often joined them for their study sessions just to spend some time with them.
“You’ve made a grammatical error” Logan commented as he looked over his partner’s shoulder.
“Writing his surname without an uppercase letter was a choice, not an error. Let me enjoy it until I have to proofread” Janus replied.
“There’s no better background sound to reading than being with you”
“Not even that cracker rap you like?” They said it in a lighthearted tone.
“Not even those because as far as I know I don’t love any of those��� Logan gave them a sloppy kiss on the cheek “Look, I am being so emotive and loving, adjectives, etc etc”
Janus turned his head to meet him in a kiss “I’m aware darling. Peak romance of you. I think I’m done with rolling this metaphorical boulder up the mountain for today. Want to eat at my place?”
“Yes please. I am barred from me and Patty’s place for the night. Rowan is in town and they would prefer alone time”
“She is?”
“Only for a few days”
Patty and Rowan had eventually realized that since they were long distance for most of the time they worked better as friends and part time lovers. Patty was still the first person Rowan went to see when she was in town and Patty still sent Rowan photos of every cute dog she saw.
Logan drove right past the city centrum and stopped near the apartment Janus, Remus and Remy shared. It was decently sized with a balcony where Jan had set up some pots to grow sunflowers along with other plants. They were most proud of their tiny tiny lemon tree. Remus kept making jokes about ‘lemon stealing whores’ but Jan refused to look up what he was referencing. Rem also had a few of his own pots where he tried to frankenstein together new plants.
When the couple got to the inner court of the apartment complex they saw Remus and Remy relaxing on the grass in front of their place. The sun was striking down with florida heat and slightly obnoxious pop music was coming from Remy’s phone. They were working on a pair of shirts a client had commissioned for them to sew and without them knowing Remus was drawing them. He liked the concentrated look on their face, they looked so adorable with their eyebrows all furrowed.
Remus had taken his shirt off to tan because this year he was going for a bit more of a werewolf look than a vampire. (which his partners were very happy for, testosteron did wonders for body hair). The scars from his top surgery gleamed in the sun.
“Jannie-babey!” Remy exclaimed when they saw their partner.
They held their arms out and let Janus lay down with his head against their chest. He kissed them hello while Logan sat down next to them. Remus quickly finished his sketch before leaning forward to kiss Janus hello. Both of the Rems gladly greeted Logan as well (”LOG!! My fav type of tree!” “Lo! Girlie!”).
“Whatcha think?” Remus asked as he showed off the sketchbook page.
“Aww babe you captured my sexyness sooo well. Right Jan?”
“I must admit you had truly drawn a perfect replica of the most sleepy bastard this side of the north pole”
Remy let out an overly dramatic gasp before using Jan’s own dreads to hit him in the face with “Such rudeness! The gall! Love truly is like totally fucking dead! truly!”
“I spoke no misstruthts! You are sleepy and you were born out of wedlock”
“Ah-” Remy opened their mouth to respond before closing it again. They put on a sour look while continuing to hit their partner with his own dreads. Jan had a goofily self content look on his face.
The sun began to disappear behind the trees so the group decided to head inside. Ms. Carl was sleeping in Remy’s wheelchair, it was one of her new favorite spots.
(I’d taken a lot of Jan and Remus telling Remy that their pain was bad enough and that they could use a wheelchair even if they could technically walk to convince them to get one. They mostly used it when working at a coffee shop nearby but it also helped on dates. They’d been able to go with Remus on much longer trips into the woods! He liked finding gross mushrooms and weird bugs and they both enjoyed screaming into the abyss!)
(Soon after but unrelated Remus had started to sob during his psychologist appointment because it’d hit him that he’d been dating Remy and Janus longer than he had been with Os. It’d been mostly tears of relief)
The apartment was cozy and not too big. There was a bedroom with a king sized bed but also an extra smaller bedroom right next to it for Remus sake. Most nights he did sleep together with the other two but knowing that he had another option was still reassuring. It was also kind of practical to have an extra bed in a relationship between a sex repulsed asexual, a sex positive asexual and a non asexual.
The extra bedroom mostly worked as Remus’ art studio. For the moment the walls were plastered with sketches for a horror themed coloring book for adults he was planning on creating. He was trying to make it as gross as possible. 
On the rest of the apartment’s walls hung many paintings he’d made of his partners. His favorite was a painting based on a photo he’d taken off Janus during a trip they’d done to an abandoned themepark where he was standing next to a half broken attraction but Remus had drawn a big reptile monster lurking behind the building.
“Logie! I got some new mold to show you!!” Remus exclaimed as soon as they got into the apartment. He pulled the other man along out to the balcony.
Remy laid down on the couch while making grabby hands for their partner “Let the nerds have their nerd time”
Janus collapsed onto the couch and moved his arm around them so they could move to lay half snuggled up on top of him, their lips grazing against the nape of his neck. He moved his free hand to feel along the faint wrinkles that had started to form next to their mouth and beside their eyes.
“Looking forward to your birthday?” He asked in a quiet tone.
“For when you and Rem kidnap me away to a mysterious place to like torture me with like clowns or whatever? Yeah sure”
“Hey I would never torture you with clowns”
“You would torture me with snakes”
“Well yes. Who wouldn’t want to be tortured by snakes”
“Britney Spears wouldn’t. she would befriend them”
“True! You have a point” Janus sneaked in a kiss before continuing “You’re going to look tremendously hot as a 30 year old dear”
“Pff. You’re just jealous”
“Yes! Indeed! I truly am!! I was made to be a middle aged slash slightly elderly strange aunt. I already have my teapots and mysteriously patterned skirts ready. All I need now is for my hair to start greying and perhaps my skin to be less smooth”
“Aww babe I can get you some like tots cool grey hairdye”
Janus flashed their eyelashes a bit jokingly “Promise?”
“.....” They squinted “....Only for a kiss”
Janus chuckled before leaning in to kiss them. He moved his hands to play with the dress strap on their shoulder. Before he suddenly paused only to say.
“I would make such an absolutely wonderful slightly mysterious godfather, right?”
Remy snorted only because it wasn’t exactly the first time they’d asked “Yah yah especially after the grey hairdye girlie”
“but only the tips. I’m not dying yet, unless you just poisoned me”
“Of course! It’s fashion girlie!!”
“Patty and my Logan have to get that adoption permission accepted quicker so I can officially become the greatest godfather ever in the history of the universe. No one will remember Ghandi or Alexander the great no more. Only me”
“Whatcha talking about?” Remus asked as he came back in with Logan.
“How I can’t see Logie as a daddy like at all. Sorry” Remy instantly replied.
“I think his dad body is coming along quite nicely” Janus argued back.
“Well thank you honeypie” Logan replied “All though I still haven’t been able to find a clear definition of what a so called dad body is”
“MAKE ROOM FOR ME!!” Remus leaped onto the couch and landed with his ass directly on top of Janus’ stomach making him exhale like a broken balloon.
After 5 years of figuring out optimal cuddle positions for 3, sometimes 4, people all of them quite quickly managed to fit on the couch. Logan obviously sat next to Janus while Remy enjoyed getting pressed together between their partners to suck up all their warmth and comfort. Remus liked doing little braids in Remy’s hair during long conversations like his own little fidget toy. He also liked gnawing on them sometimes, they didn’t mind.
Ms. Carl slithered over to see what was going on. Remus picked her up and gave her a kiss on the snoot before giving one to Remy as well.
“Anyone wanna get takeout tonight? I’m feeling like toots for some starbucks and pancakes” Remy asked.
“I’m feeling mario party first!” Remus replied.
“Please we’re adults” Janus said “so I’m taking dibs on Princess Peach since I will not lose. I am here to figuratiely kick your entire asses”
“Aww no big evil reptile for you?” Remus teased.
“I am a far more advanced creature than a Bowser main”
“I’m taking Rosalina!” Remy added.
Logan squinted at the characters “The round ghost should work for me” 
“WALUIGI! MUHAHAH!”
It took them all a second before they realized one of them would have to get up from the comfortable cuddle pile to go and get the controllers. They all looked at each other like cowboys about to shoot before collectivly deciding through the democratic means: rock, paper, scissor.
The loser ultimately became Janus who complained loudly and dramatically the entire time he dragged himself up from the couch and got the game inserted. All of his partners dragged him back to the couch as soon as the game was ready. Even though the task had been so smile they all showered him in kisses until he was grinning.
The End
Thanks for Reading <3
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Sam Winchester: Running Away
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Pairing: Sam W. x Reader
Pov: Reader/Sam
Warnings: Panic, anxiety, being scared, mature content, talk of sex, Sam, inner thoughts
Summary: With Y/n and Sam only being together for a short time, when Y/n learns she pregnant she freaks thinking every bad thought about the things that could go wrong.
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: This is Dominant Sam I'm talking about here, but also a protective Sam. This is for band--pyschos 1.5 followers bingo writing challenge.
Square: First Child
Sam Winchester Master list
Main Master List
TagList: @sweetdetectivequeen @wonderfulworldofwinchester @band--psycho
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So, maybe I've been with Sam for a few months, but it's not that big of a deal. We're just a once in a blue sorta thing. Sam and I yes live together alongside his brother Dean, but I don't mean that Sam and I share a bed you know.
Okay well, maybe we do share a room. We share a comfy large bed when a hunt goes bad, or Sam wants to release some tension. We go and let go of our bodies' tension. Together we let everything go, and we sort of become one.
Sam is a giant teddy bear, but when he's had enough put onto his shoulders he needs someone to ground him, that someone for right now just so happens to be me. Bad hunts turn into long, fast, and hard nights.
Nights when Sam drags on, his large hands wrapped my throat pinning me down to the fluffy bed. My nails leaving red marks down his muscled back. His hips snapping against my cervix, his lips leaving bruises on my skin.
The way he'd snap his hips into me as I rode into him. In moments like these Sam was my cowboy, and I was his baby girl. The loud grunts and moans that echoed off the motel, or bunker walls were the most amazing sound to my ears.
The sound of our skin slapping together, and the dominant nature of Sam, his almost animalistic way of fucking me. I wasn't a virgin when I met Sam and Dean, I wasn't a virgin when Sam first came to me with this idea of friends with benefits.
But even without being a virgin, taking Sam for the first time. That made me feel like I had died and came back to life. I know saying that seems probably very odd, but Sam there is something about him that makes him so fucking... fuckable.
The moment that I came down from my high and he laid on top of me, trying his hardest to not lay all his weight on me, I reveled in those moments. Was this what it was like to fall in love with someone?
Would Sam really want that? Would I be enough for Sam?
Months it went on like this, bad hunts or just wanting to let go. It went back and forth. The deal that we held, was for the both of us, and usually, we needed each other at the same time.
Bumping into each other, cute moments. Moments when I would try to put more effort into it. I learned real quick that Sam had a thing for lace and the color red. Something about the way it felt against his hands, or how it looks against my skin tone.
Nothing's more special than having your boy toy pull off your lace panties with his teeth while he makes direct contact. Again there was that dominating nature of Sam. Sometimes my mind would float to what it would be like with Dean, but I would be very much slapped out of that thinking when Sam would snap his hips into me and ask me 'who do you belong to?' or 'Who owns your body?'.
This of course in my world would only last for so long. Something always had to go wrong. So wrong that everything that I had worked for wasn't worth it. Wasn't worth it, if I would just be crashed in the end. I didn't think any wrong could come from fucking my best friend in a way.
Because that was Sam and I are.. were. We are friends, best friends, who know everything about each other, who know when the other is about to have a break or the other needs space. What happens when Sam finds out about this.
This is a normal fuck up that be taken care of. This is my fuck up, this fuck up is huge. He won't want to stay. No, see I've ruined this for the both of us.
What happens if Sam. What if? That's the big question stop overreacting. You've spent time with Dean, ask your question then act, not the other way around. You need to actually find out if your pregnant.
'pregnant' "FUCK" I said out loud rather loud, louder than I should have said it. "Y/n you okay?" I outside the bathroom door. Panicking I slipped the pregnancy test into my sweater pocket. "Yep, I'm super," I said and unlocked the door, slipped by Sam. Smiling before I casually walked away from him. Panicking on the inside.
"what am I going to do?" I asked myself under my breath. "A Winchester baby, a baby, my baby," I said hushed under my breathe. A tap to my shoulder pulled me from my very important inner monologue.
"Y/n, what's wrong with you?" Sam said wrapping his hand around my shoulder. Mouth left gaped open. "Y/n?" Sam repeated, just my name this time made everything worse. The echo of Sam's voice grunting and moaning my name as he comes down from his high.
"Sam," I said looking up at him. These were moments that I said he was a huge teddy bear. Worry crossed his handsome face. "Y/n what's wrong?" Again he forced his first question.
"Nothing Sam. Just let it go." I said tapping his hand on my shoulder. There was a look of upset confusion on Sam's face. "Y/n don't you dare pull away from me, especially after what we have together," Sam said as I walked away. I stopped and thought about it. 'Don't pull him into it, you just take care of it.' I just kept walking.
I made sure that the pregnancy test was really correct, by going to a doctor's office. "You're about six weeks along." The doctor said. More panic. More anxiety, more questions, more thoughts. That drive back to the bunker I was fighting the idea of leaving.
If I just left, what if I just didn't come back. 'No go back and try to hide it, say you're sick, hide in your room. You won't be able to hide it for long' Sam will question you, Sam will notice, he'll notice your body change, he'll notice everything Y/n.
When I got back Sam was waiting for me in the library. "Where were you Y/n?" he asked me as I passed by him "I was out," I said passing quickly. Trying to stay away from him, the closer I am to Sam the harder it is to not tell him the truth. The grip of his hands around my wrist is so powerful, so strong.
"Stop running away. I just need you Y/n I thought..." Sam paused looking down at my body and then to my wrist. "Sam let go of my wrist. You're hurting me." I said ripping my arm from his grasp. Stomping away and down the louder echoing bunker hallway.
'LEAVE' 'No stop he's right you made a promise, a deal.' "Stop" Fighting with myself was the worst of all of this. You can't run away from yourself. No knock at my door, but I wouldn't have known. I had taken a nap my thoughts clouding my mind. Waking up to a quiet bunker and a note stuck to the coffee machine. "Y/n whatever is going on.
That's what I'm here for. Please baby girl. I don't know what to do. Shoot me a message, or even text Dean. Just let me know you're okay." Signed Sam. Yet another wave of new thought, new emotions. I want to stay, but it wouldn't be good for either of us. Nobody benefits from this.
A normal hunts take Dean and Sam about a week tops so with the letter that Sam left behind I can only imagine that Sam is pushing Dean to hunt a lot faster. Get the hunt over and done with come home and figure out what is wrong with me.
I say I've got two days tops before the boys get back. To toggle with the idea of leaving. Two days doesn't seem like enough time, but I need to not trap them in a situation like this. Sam doesn't need to have another thing on his shoulders, Dean doesn't need the worry or the panic. Of a Winchester baby.
Taking a long walk around the bunker brought memories alive in my mind's eye. The great, the good, and the bad. Most of them included Sam. The night he asked me to start this friend with benefits or the wild night that he took me on the book-filled library table. He fucked me in the middle of the wide open.
Would it be bad to say that I fell in love with him from that moment? He made me feel like the only girl in the world. A few spots in the kitchen early morning breakfast being made, and in the garage washing whatever car Dean would let us wash.
'You need to go' Memories pinging in my head. Hitting all the corners of my head. This is the most stressful thing I've ever had to do. There's a baby inside of me now, every choice has to be for this little one. This choice was for Sam and for this little one.
My hand laid on my still flat stomach. I wish that I could feel Sam's hand on top of mine, or watch his face. But that wouldn't be a good idea and I know that.
"They're going to a Winchester in and out," I said walking past Sam and Dean's rooms. I think I'll just have to write a letter to Sam, a sort of backwards odd way of responding to his letter.
This letter will just be my goodbye. "Hey Sam, by the time you read this I'll be long gone. Let me explain. I'm pregnant, with of course your child. We never got the chance to talk about being parents, never got the chance to even have a normal relationship. Sam, I fell hard for you, so hard that I don't want to hurt you. I know you most likely aren't ready to be a dad, so yes I know I'm taking that choice away from you. I am making so many mistakes and I don't want to be a burden on your shoulders or even a burden on Deans. They'll find out about you, they'll be nosy like you, be hardheaded like you, defy me like you defied your father." I wrote out pausing to let my shaking hand take a break.
"Cowboy, I'm running away, because Sam that's the only thing I know how to do. Don't you dare think... Don't you dare ever for a second think that I don't love you, or that this baby won't grow up knowing who is, who knows maybe I'll come back... I love you, Sam, I love you cowboy."
I read over it once and then twice, Dean stood over my shoulder. His hand lying still against my blade. I swiped the pad of my thumb over my Y/n nicely small handwriting. "Sammy?" Dean questioned. "Hmm?" I hummed fearing my voice would give too much away. "What did she write?" He asked, "Y/n wrote that she's pregnant, and she is running away afraid to put the burden of my child on my shoulders and on yours." I said continuing to look at the page in front of me.
"Dean we.." "I've got you, Sammy. We'll find her bring her home and you wife her up." Dean said, grabbing my bag and racing back to the impala. "She's on foot, and most likely hasn't made it very far, I'll call Charlie, you call her," Dean said, whipping out my phone it tumbled in my hands landing on the footwell of the front seat.
Pulling it out it came with pictures, pictures of the three of us. Sitting on baby's hood, her in the middle of the two of us next to her. I could see it now, a baby Winchester, sitting on her lap and taking that picture all over again.
"Sam, Charlie says that she's gonna try her, see if we can sort of trick her into going with Charlie until we can get to her and bring her home," Dean said.
"Yeah let's hope she wants to come home," I said the mix of different emotions and feelings shoring through me, I felt the revive of the impala's engine. 'There's no running away from the Winchesters.'
Completed on: 05/04/2021
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unabashegirl · 4 years
Note
Could you do one where reader and David grew up together and are now together and there doing a mukbang with Josh and he asks them questions??
MUKBANG
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Author’s note: I can! Sorry, it took so long! I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think! 
masterlist 
--- 
“Holy shit. This is a shit ton of food” David chuckles as he moves toward the table where Josh has begun setting out the different dishes that he had picked up. Josh had arrived only ten minutes ago. David was just ending a conference call about an upcoming show when he strolled in with the numerous, brown paper bags from Chick-Fil-A. 
“I just couldn’t hold myself back. This video will be legendary” People have been begging for this particular video since Josh’s first upload and the time was just right. Everything had fallen into place with the announcement of the couple’s engagement. 
“It smells ready good,” He glances at the different boxes as he settles on one of the stools. “Did you get any drinks?”. 
“I did. I got us milkshakes and a soda. You know — just in case” Josh shrugs as he throws the bag on the floor beside the table. “Now— where is your queen?” David chuckles as he looks down at his phone. 
“She should be about to —” Her sudden appearance interrupts his words. They watch Y/N make an entrance from the viewfinder. She takes her sunglasses off her head, tosses them in the purse, and plops her purse on the bench by the entrance of the house. 
“Hi, guys! I am sorry I am late” She bends down to slip out of her high heels. 
“There she is! Please look at her! How do you manage to look so majestic every day?” Josh compliments her, turning his head to get a full view of her attire. She wears a white suit, with an oversized jacket and a grey spaghetti strap crop top under. At a simple glance, she doesn’t look like the fiance of famous Youtuber star — David Dobrik. She looks sharp, professional, elegant. The type of woman that only dates billionaires and travels to Paris on the weekends just to shop. 
As David gawks at Y/N through the viewfinder, he thanks the universe for putting her on his path. After three years, she still manages to knock the air out of him with a simple look. He even gets butterflies in his stomach to this day and he hopes it never changes. 
“It’s my job” Y/N works in the high fashion industry, rubbing elbows with fashion icons like Olivier Rousteing, Virgil Abloh, Donatella, and many more. “Do I have time to change?” She wraps her arms around Josh and gives him a warm squeeze. 
“Why? You look great!” Josh argues as he hugs her back while facing the camera.  
“White suits and greasy food don’t mix”  Y/N explains as she bends over and kisses David’s cheek. “Hi, babe” David clasps her hands as they slip down his shoulders and onto his upper chest. He turns around on his chair to face her, wanting to get a good look of her. 
“How was your day?” He asks after he has pulled her down to a quick kiss. His thumbs gently stroke the front of her hands. His fingers run across the oval diamond-cut engagement ring that he has given her recently. A smile grows on his face as memories from that night swamp his mind. 
“Busy. Let me go change. I won’t take long” She reassures the boys before ripping herself away from David and running back to change into a comfier outfit. 
“How does it feel to be engaged?” David and Y/N had announced it to the public only a few days ago. Their social media platforms had exploded with speculation, opinions, and excitement. People had already started making assumptions about the date and the location of the wedding. 
“It’s nice. It’s exciting. Well, you know” Josh nods as he remembers when he had just popped the question to Paige. Before Josh can add anything else to the conversation, Y/N quietly walks back into the living room, wearing a sweater that David can recognize as his and some biker shorts. 
“The future Mrs. Dobrik, guys” Y/N’s cheeks flush as she jokingly bows and Josh claps loudly. She takes the vacant seat between the two men. 
“Chick- Fil- A” She gasps at the sight of the mouth-watering food. “Great choice, Josh” Y/N says so, gently patting his shoulder.
“A little birdy told me it is your favorite” Josh winks at David as he starts opening the little boxes. “Now—I have a bunch of questions for you two while we eat this meal” 
“Okay,” David nods as he doesn’t waste any time in digging in. 
“You guys met back in high school right? Tell us about that” Y/N is in the middle of dipping her first nugget into a sauce whilst David has already taken three bites out his sandwich. “Y/N, I got you a vanilla milkshake”
“Thank you” She beams, reaching out for the cup. 
“Y/N hated me in high school” David blurts seconds later. 
“Babe!” She gasps, playfully slapping his chest. “That is not true and you know that!” David laughs lightly, his hand casually slipping under the table, giving her thigh a gentle squeeze. 
“We met during our junior year of high school. Natalie introduced her to us” Y/N spent her days studying and taking part in extracurricular activities that mattered. Meanwhile, David spent his time fooling around with his friends. 
“Oh, so Natalie was sort of your matchmaker?” 
“Yeah. She wouldn’t have spoken to me otherwise” Y/N pouts at David, “and I don’t mean it in a bad way” He rectifies, “She was just really focused on her school work. She was way more mature than I was. Although I had a huge crush on her” 
“That’s sweet” Y/N pecks his cheek making his face flareup. “We grew close, up until senior year when I went off to college”
“I moved here and we sadly drifted apart”  David even asked Y/N to move to California with him, and for a second she had considered it. That was until her parents found out about her plans and threaten to stop talking to her if she didn’t attend college. 
“At least everything worked out at the end. David, when did you know that Y/N was the one?” David wipes the corners of his mouth, finishing to chew down his food, taking the time to answer. 
“This is going to sound corny, but for me, it was when we ran into reach other after so long” David had traveled to New York for work and had run into Y/N. She had just started working and was fresh out of college.
“That makes sense. It was kind of a meant to be sorta thing” David nods along as he steals Y/N’s milkshake. “How about you Y/N?” Josh settles down his phone on the table after scrolling through his last Youtube video where people had asked questions for them. 
“We had started calling and texting each other almost every day.  I got sick while I was in New York. I just felt like there was something seriously wrong with my health and I had no one around. I called him that night and told him I was considering going to the hospital. He took the next flight out and took care of me” She would never forget the feeling of relief and instant comfort he brought her the moment he turned up on her doorstep. She ended up having pneumonia and was confined to her apartment for almost three weeks. Having David around made it much more bearable. 
“Why haven’t we heard this story before?” Josh questions, he had known about them casually running into one another in New York, but never about this. “it’s so romantic” he giggles. 
“I don’t know” Y/N smiles. She can only guess why David hasn’t told the boys. It made him seem like a big softy. “I am so full” Y/N pats her tummy as her shorts had started feeling tighter. 
“Amateur,” Josh says to the camera with a smile. 
“ She is tiny. What do you expect?” David jokes earning a playful shove from Y/N. “She can barely reach the top cabinets with her heels on”  He always finds it incredibly cute when he catches her standing on her tiptoes with her arms fully extended over her head. 
“You are very short Y/N” Josh laughs along with David. 
“I know! You don’t have to point it out!” She pouts, reaching out for a water bottle. David drapes his arm around her waist from behind, kissing her shoulder to hide the goofy smile that she has managed to put on his face. 
“What is something that David does that bothers you, Y/N?” David smirks at her as he waits for her response. 
“I hate he won’t let me buy him clothes or style him” He throws his head back as he laughs heavily. ”he is already so handsome think about how good he would look?”
“I knew you were going to say that!” Y/N giggles, shaking her head at her fiance and his stubbornness. 
“Why don’t you? Don’t you think our beautiful queen knows enough about fashion?” Josh frowns, teasing his close friend. 
“It’s not that! I just don’t know if I can pull it off!” David loves how she always looks impeccable and out of a runway, but he isn’t confident enough to dress any differently. Comfort is also another thing he values in his wardrobe and most of the attires don’t look like you can nap with them on. 
“David, what about you?” 
“The AC” The couple exhales loudly, rolling their eyes at others causing Josh to laugh. “She is always turning the temperature lower. It feels like the north pole in here” 
“That’s what is for, babe! To COOL the house” Y/N turns to look at Josh, “Sometimes is hotter in here than outside. I am not kidding” 
“I believe you” Josh nods knowing from experience that David hates feeling slightly cold. 
“Why are you always taking her side?” David points out as the three of them laugh at the way the conversation is going. 
The teasing continues until both men are stuffed with food and Josh finishes asking all essential questions. Josh says his goodbyes, hugs each, and congratulates them one more time before departing. 
-- 
It’s late at night when David strides into their bedroom after finishing some work with Natalie. The lights of their bedroom are off, she is tucked in bed with the comforter up to her chin. Y/N wears her glasses as she holds her iPhone close while typing an outgoing email to her assistant— reminding her to pick up a birthday gift for a photographer friend. 
“I’ll never get tired of seeing that ring on your finger,” He remarks cheekily, closing the door behind him. She smiles, looking up from her screen to get a good glimpse of him. 
“Good because I am never taking it off” His indecisive ass had taken five months to pick the ring. He had taken Natalie, Erin, Corina, Suzy, Carly, his mom, and sisters, on multiple occasions to look for rings. They were starting to grow tired when he finally found the perfect one. 
“Good because you are mine” He jumps in bed, in search of a good cuddle. His arms wrap around her pulling her towards his side of the bed. 
“I can’t wait” She mumbles as she nuzzles her face into his chest. 
“Me neither” They had decided to wait for a little while before tying the knot. They want to take their time and properly plan their wedding. Y/N already has so many ideas including the design of her wedding dress. “Are you excited to start planning it?” David tugs his other arm behind his head. 
“I am. We have to plan what you will wear too” 
“Black suit. No doubt” He immediately answers without any hesitation. 
“Thought so” She rolls her eyes, imagining how handsome he would look in an all-black suit. 
340 notes · View notes
zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years
Text
A toast to see that I finally got my motivation back
An Chisaki family au drabble.
The damn pillow
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"Oh my god yOU'RE HAVING A BABY?!" You smiled nervously as Miss Midoriya sended waves of tears at seing you with your blotches on and a cute baby bump.
She grabbed on your hands and stared in awe with teary eyes.
"(Y/n)-chan since you are this sweet person I have no doubts that this child will have one of the best mothers out there!"
"Thank you." You giggled, thanking the man from the fair as well for handing you the fruits you asked for "By the way, how is Midoriya-kun?"
"Oh wonderful! My boy just entered U.A!" Ink teared up again as you smiled.
You only saw Izuku once and he was barely a 9 years old kiddo. Yet Ink you encountered on some fairs or while grocery shopping. Despite knowing of the quirkless boy, you didn't questioned that he had gotten to U.A.
You weren't much a fan of that school, and now with a new Chisaki coming up? Heavens forbided that Kai knew some hero touched you. He was a very possevice and protective man in general, but since he knew of your pregnancy you lost count on how many times he had used the overhaul... unnecessarily...
"Oh, I am sad that I still dont get you nothing though dear." Inko put one of her hands up with a frown as you shaked your hands.
"Please is not necessary, for real. My husband is already spoiling his kid even without born!" You giggle as the woman frowned a bit before she gasped.
"I think I might have the perfect gift for you! Please, I'm sure it will serve just right, my house is near here."
"Uh... well." You looked up and saw Chrono only shrugging from the top of a building and drinking something. "I guess it wouldn't be too bad."
You followed the woman as you snorted at Hari following you by jumping on some buildings and through dark alleys.
Inko let you waiting on ther door before she extended a huge pillow.
"Congrats for the new baby! This is a pregnancy pillow I used when I was about to have Izuku." Her eyes softened at the mention of her son and you soon feel warm and fuzzy when you felt Kaito lightly moving as you carresed your belly. "It will help you sleep better!"
You grabbed with surprise at sieng that she was giving up something so emotional just to gave it to you.
"Thanks Midoriya-san." You whispered in awe and smiled at her. You bowed along with her as she waved from the door step. "Send a hi for Midoriya-kun for me!"
"I will! Please let me see your baby once too!"
You giggled as Kurono dropped by your side.
"You're friends wwith that lady?"
"Sorta." You sighed "We just tall casually in fairs and her son is quirkless like me so..." Chrono shrugged and accompanied you.
You had to wash it as soon as your husband saw that pillow in your arms and even despite that you occasionally saw him glaring at it.
You had to thank Inko later, because this pillow surely helped you sleep a lot better!
... well.
Someone wasn't as comfortable as you though..
.
.
.
Gosh how he wished he could just scretch his bare hand and destroy this thing.
It's been exactly four days since you brought that "pregnancy pillow" with you. He immediately scrunched up his face in horror and disgust at knowing you had accepted someone's else gift.
Although he didn't cared much at the start. The consequences came in night as always.
He wouldn't EVER admit he enjoyed sleeping close. Especially when he insisted to sleep only with occasionally butts touching... although he always woke up with you caged on his arms and chest.
Now, he always saw you with that damn thing on your arms. It made him feel very.... uncomfortable.
He knew he wasn't that much of an affectionate person but lower yourself that much to opting for hugging a pillow instead of him? It made a pretty nasty wound on his ego...
Due to his pride, he wouldn't just voice out loud. So it came to his mind to just hide the cursed thing on the compound.
He was smirking on the bed, hidding it beneath a book as you searched for the pillow with huffs and groans.
"Kai." You whined while crossing your arms with a pout "You seriously didn't saw that pillow? It helps easy the baby and for em to sleep better."
"I already told you." He closed the book with a smug yet collected look as he put it on the night stand. He looked at your distressed self and extended his hand for you "C'mon now angel. I wouldn't want the mother of my child not getting any rest for the night."
Just wheen you were about to get his hand, Rappa just barged on the door and without explanations threw the said pillow on Kai's face as he looked at you.
"My bad (Y/n) that was yours?" You gagged before Rappa yelped and ran away from a VERY infuriated kai with bare hands in aim of his head.
You looked with concern at them before you picked the pillow. You just shrugged and went back to sleep.
He had gotten back after half an hour, sweaty and hives all over his face and forearms. He glared daggers at the object in your arms as you nuzzled on it with a peaceful look.
"I curse you with all the plagues on this fucking sick universe." He whispered while pointing at the pillow before heading for the shower and once again not having a peaceful and slumber sleep.
.
.
.
The precepts always questioned how Overhaul got married with (Y/n) since they are polar opposites. But now it showed way too much.
You always greet them with a smiel and cheery face, even as pregnant, while Overhaul if they even dared to muster one word or whimper they would get overhauled or sended to the worst missions of the yakusa they would ever know.
Pops decided to put an end to it and just talk with the very much grumpy young man who almost broke the cup of tea due to how angry he was.
"Mind explaining me the reason why you've been acting this way?"
"I didn't get to sleep those few nights." He growled before almost hitting the cup of tea down on the coffe table.
"Oh? Why is that?"
"I need to get rid of that pillow." He muttered and the room went silent for a bit and Kai only arched his eyebrow at the burst of laughter Pops had at linking the dots.
"Bot just talk with your wife!" He said between laughter "Ever heard of that?!"
"And hurt my pride even more? No thank you." He growled whiel getting up "Thank you for the tea."
.
.
.
He entered on the bedroom. Checking twice to certificate himself that you weren't there. He got to the room, gloves already discarded as he picked the soft cushions of the pillow as he glared at it.
Just when he was about to overhaul the pillow your voice calling his name made him freeze.
"What are you doing?" You giggled as he only looked over his shoulder to you.
"This thing is infected." He made up a excuse as you snorted and got close to him.
"With what?" You arched your eyebrow as you saw on his gden orbs he was trying to make an excuse for it before he saw you laughing behind your hand "You're jealous of a pillow Kai?"
He glared at you with wrath as he threw the pillow over his shoulder.
"Forgot who you're married and talking to, dearest?"
"Sorry sorry!" You giggled and wrapped your arms on his middle as he lifted his own awkwardly in the air before lowering them, oen in your back while the other mindless carresed your baby bump with a dreamy sigh.
"I didn't want you to get out grouchy and grumpy because I was cuddling with a pillow." You cooed, nuzzling your face on his as he rested his chin on your head with a huff.
"Pardon me if I dont want my wife or child getting infected by an unknow sickness..." he scoffed before sniffing your scent before he sighed and let him have more of you, he just didn't crush you in his body right now because he didn't wanted to hurt his baby.
"I'm sorry~" you cooed while looking up at him as he rolled his eyes. Lowering his mask down to kiss you. Then again... and again.
"Just dont let yourself depend on a materialistic thing.... If you feel the need of hugging, then hug me.. if it's extremely necessary." He averted his eyes from you after breaking one passionate kiss as you widened your eyes in shock before softening them while pecking his cheek.
"You're such a softie when you want to daddy~" you giggled as the pink on his face grew as he tsked before he gently twirled you to lay on the bed as he settled between your thighs. Examinating you just like a doctor before smilling sadistically and propting your chin up by his two fingers.
"Let's see now if I am soft angel of mine... Careful down there brat." He whispered seductively before starting to trail kissed on your neck.
160 notes · View notes
missinghan · 4 years
Text
give it a chance ⤖ lee minho
❖ genre : college au; roommates au; friends to lovers au
❖ word count : 9,6k.
❖ warning : explicit language, slightly suggestive & mentions of alcohol
❖ summary : you convinced yourself to attend a party in order to prevent Lee Minho from doing stupid things; however it’s not so stupid anymore when your roommate said he needed to tell you something important.
❖ a/n : the continuation of what if we is dedicated to @chaninfused, so *clears throat* this is where I hereby declare that she deserves more than what the entire universe can possibly give her; oh hi furat, this is why I’ve been so cryptic all this time. I know this isn’t much but I want to thank you for tolerating me and letting me be mean to you even though we only started talking for a few months; you’re an incredibly great friend and an amazing writer, don’t ever forget that 🖤
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one.
It’s been almost a week since Jisung last talked to Minho (albeit texts and FaceTime) and he wakes up to his best friend roaming around his crusty kitchen, struggling to find a bottle of honey. Seungmin’s mom has been constantly sending them thirty packets of rib soup per week. And Minho thinks the sight of Han Jisung slurping on nothing but distorted rice with pork ribs while stressing over his paper for seven days straight is more tragic than his non-existent love life.
“It’s like you’re trying to turn us into gym rats,” Hyunjin snickers lazily, flinging his bangs away from his face. “You even brought us Tupperwares, are you really expecting us not to order tacos impulsively on study nights?” He’s a little dubious about stuff like this because he can feel the actual horror of only eating chicken breast and string beans just by seeing Chan cooking them up. 
Seungmin chucks a piece of lettuce towards his direction, “Don’t you have anything else to do other than complaining?” He knows that when Jisung and Hyunjin decide to order food on study nights, they’re gonna do anything but study.
“Uhm, I actually do,” he replies nonchalantly. “I’m going through Minho’s phone.”
Jisung takes a seat next to him by the counter, propping his head onto his hands, “What’s the point? There’s nothing but cat photos and cat memes...and also Y/N as his background.”
“That angle is hideous, by the way,” Hyunjin comments like the true photography geek he is, which is completely ignored by Minho because he’s too cranky to start a fight at ten in the morning. “But it’s kinda cute for you to do that, so I’m gonna turn a blind eye.”
Jisung asks out of the blue, “Who’s going to BamBam’s party this Sunday? Well, besides the other two-thirds of 3RACHA.” 
“I have a midterm on Monday, dumbass,” Seungmin mumbles while washing his vegetables at the sink. 
“And I’m sleeping over at Lix’s for a project,” Hyunjin informs him lamely, having no intention to attend another single frat party. At least not BamBam’s frat parties—that guy has the weirdest friends; a chick was so drunk that she thought Hyunjin was her boyfriend and almost tried to make out with him on the dance floor. 
Jisung secretly hates going to parties without his friends- no, actually, he never goes to parties without people from his social circle because he dreads the whole introduction part that requires formalities and inevitable awkwardness. But it’s not like that with Minho, ten minutes into their very first conversation and he feels like he’s known him for years. 
In short, he will die if Minho doesn’t come to the party. Chan can only chat with him for so long until his DJ duty occurs and Changbin’s probably gonna be too busy doing keg stands to care about his antisocial friend. 
“Fine, I’ll go,” Minho gives in while chopping up the chicken breasts and this prompts Jisung to clap happily like a seal for the next twenty seconds as he skips over to the fridge to fetch a water bottle. “But we’re gonna need a ride, I’m not taking my motorbike for some crackhead to puke on it. Ask Chan later when you crash at his place.”
Jisung tosses his head back to take a peek at the clock hanging by the bookshelf, and it reads 10:07 AM. He really should be getting for his class at eleven because traffic sucks but he’s not feeling like sitting through two hours of Park ranting about marketing strategies. “Can’t Y/N just drive us? I don’t think she’d let anyone else take you home when you’re not sober,” he ponders, earning a nod of agreement from both of his roommates. 
Just when Minho opens his mouth to brush it off, he stops himself to process the information again and holds back a ‘you’re right’ because he hates letting people know that they’re not wrong. He wouldn’t let anyone drive you home when you’re drunk either. “Her car’s with her dad right now,” he tries to sound casual when three pairs of curious eyes are glued onto his back. “I, uh, sorta had it run into a tree last week.”
“You what? How are you still alive?” Hyunjin’s jaw is on the floor and Seungmin accidentally dumps too much vinegar into his salad while Jisung’s choking on the iced cold water, coughing furiously after into the sleeve of his hoodie. Guess Chan’s gonna have to drive them both. After all, he can never say ‘no’ to J.One. 
Minho murmurs, “A dude rear-ended me, fucking idiot.” He finishes marinating the chicken breasts and arranges them nicely onto a tray with aluminum foil on top, pushing it into the preheated oven. “And basically she’s never letting me touch her car again,” he sighs while staring into midair dreamily, flashbacking to last Friday when you immediately Ubered yourself all the way from campus to downtown after picking up his call. All he got was thirty seconds of affection; you made sure that he’s not hurt and the rest was just a monstrous tantrum. He ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 
“My my, you two are just like an old married couple,” Hyunjin chuckles lightheartedly and shakes his head, scrolling through the series of texts in amusement, “What even is this? I swear your conversation consists of 60% ‘when are you going home?’, 40% ‘your lunch is here’ and 20% terrible cat memes.”
“We’re roommates,” Minho drags the word through gritted teeth, holding back all the murderous thoughts inside his head because he feels like Hyunjin’s just asking for a death wish. It’s too early for this. 
Unexpectedly, Seungmin decides he’s in a pretty good mood today since he aced his OChem pop quiz yesterday; meaning, he’s gonna stick his nose into his friend’s business whenever there’s a chance. “Don’t you guys share a bed too?” he pretends to play dumb only to receive a kick in the shin from the older boy. 
“We’re also broke,” Minho cranes his neck tiredly, washing the dirty knife under the tap. “Besides, the heater in the living room sucks.”
“You both even smell the same, it’s getting kinda creepy. Please don’t tell me you guys also share showers to have a light water bill,” Jisung makes a gagging noise and Minho thinks he’s already said too much. His grip on the knife tightens for a split second before letting it drop into the sink. He doesn’t trust himself with anything sharp the moment Hyunjin started this unwanted conversation. He also regrets stealing Changbin’s meal prep recipes to feed his trash friends. 
Minho questions callously, “We just use the same shampoo and shower gel, what’s the big deal?” His hands go for the box of oatmeal that Felix left here last time in the cabinet full of random food. He doesn’t get why Seungmin would buy so much groceries like he’s in a pandemic knowing damn well that his idiotic roommates can’t cook for shit. 
Hyunjin purses his lips, trying to prove his point, “Don’t you think that it’s weird? You don’t do those things with us.”
“Because none of you would fucking house me when I was on the verge of being homeless!”
“And why is she yelling at you through texts anyway? Bro, there’s like ten missed calls here with at least a hundred ‘where are you?’. Why is she terrorizing you this early in the morning?” Minho immediately snaps out of his semi-angry trance, chest heaving up and down. 
“Oh shit,” he facepalms himself. “I promised to pick her up at ten from class, what time is it again?”
“You’re fifteen minutes late, my friend,” Jisung supplies unhelpfully. “It’ll take another ten to arrive at campus, without traffic that is. You’re so dead. D-E-A-D.” It feels weird to hear something correct coming out of Jisung’s mouth (twice in a row) and now Minho wishes he could just whack his friend unconscious on the floor with the new set of microphones that Chan gave him last year for Secret Santa. 
“Oh, I left your rice sitting at ‘warm’, by the way,” Minho makes a grab for his biker jacket and helmet on the counter before fleeing out of the apartment with his sneakers half-way tucked in. It’s not even been thirty minutes since they’ve seen each other for the past week and Jisung’s already choked on water, not once, but twice because of Lee Minho. Sometimes he wonders if the universe is telling him that he needs new friends. 
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two. 
“Your boyfriend is late.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss at Yeji while staring at Minho’s contact on your phone anxiously. There’s no reason for you to be; worst-case scenario, you can just take the 0325 home and lock him outside for the night so that he’ll have no choice but to endure Chan’s embarrassing sleeping habits. He wouldn’t even notice either way because he’d be too busy swearing in his sleep to be annoyed. 
Yeji puts her hair up into a ponytail after stretching her limbs tiredly. She only has one class today and no choice but to stay on campus for her shift at the café before lunch break. Too bad Woojin can’t cover her today because of midterms. “I’m only speaking facts,” she tells you with a yawn and notices the slight pout on your face. “Hey, don’t be sad just because your stupid boyfriend can’t pick you up. I can call Chaeryeong if you need a ride here and there, she wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m not fucking sad!”
“Y/N, you look more depressed than Ryujin when she got a B+ in calc.” That’s irrelevant, Shin Ryujin already has a GPA booster after signing up for Kim’s stats class, one B+ won’t make it any less sparkly.
You only let out a prolonged sigh after checking your phone for the tenth time in the past half an hour. He isn’t picking up any of your calls, your messages probably can’t even reach him and now you’re sitting at M.I.A Cafe with a cup of plain water after standing outside at the front gate for so long like an idiot. An idiot, who’s hopelessly in love with her roommate- wait what? 
Listen, you already know that this is going to happen. It’s awfully inevitable and it’s getting harder and harder as the days pass by because summer is almost here. Meaning, Minho’s gonna move out soon, according to the contract. 
Are you sad about that? 
Yeah, kinda.
The more you think about it the more you regret your decision that day to let him stay with you. Because now you don’t think you’d be able to sleep without him next to you, hogging the blanket all to himself; you get angsty when he’s not home even if he’s just at dance practice; you’re definitely getting way too used to sharing an earphone with him while you both are dreading your assignments silently at the kitchen counter. And now you’re getting nervous just because he’s thirty minutes late. He’s never late, not even to your Monday Movie Night where you both can pig out and binge-watch the Avatar: The Last Airbender series until you’re sick of it. 
Maybe you’re relying on him too much. Hypothetically speaking, it’s not his fault for the damage of your car but you’re just making excuses to be with him. You even set him as your emergency contact. It’s kinda tedious to be your roommate, you realize. All of those things aren’t mandatory and he can simply mind his own business without having to feel obligated because of the ‘roommates’ label yet he’d still choose you, over everything else. Perhaps he’s dealing with his own first world problems and forgot to leave you a message this time. 
Yeji inquires breezily, wiping a cup dry with a towel, “Also, are you going to BamBam’s party this weekend?”
“For me to carry your ass home after getting shitfaced and sit through another two-hour lecture from Lia? I’ll pass thank you very much.”
She indicates with a quirk of her perfectly dark brow, “What if I tell you that Minho’s gonna be there?” Now she sounds like she’s the one who’s crushing on Lee Minho and not you. Never knew that your friends can be this creepy but the more you learn… “Jisung just told me he found a plus one aka Mister Celebrity to attend that frat party with, you wouldn’t have the heart to let me be the loner right?” she pouts with her nose scrunched and it reminds you too much of Light Fury so you look away, knowing that you wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance if she kept this up.
“How is that my problem?” you merely roll your eyes, slightly annoyed. “And also, isn’t Jisung supposed to have his marketing class now?”
Yeji doesn’t give a damn about what on Earth Han Jisung is doing with his life so she just brushes your question off. “Would you let Minho drink irresponsibly?”
You nod without hesitation, though it feels wrong coming out of your mouth, “He can do whatever he wants...as long as my carpet remains clean after his hangover.”
“Would you let me drink irresponsibly?”
“The same goes for you,” you tell her monotonously. “And I only picked you up because Lia sounded like she was hyperventilating when you attended that one law brat’s birthday party. Na Jaemin, wasn’t it? Hate that guy, by the way.”
Yeji thinks it’s time for you to open up even more and not despise people that much. Having Lee Minho as your roommate is already a huge step-up but it’s not like there have been any modifications to your routine except the fact that another human being is simply enduring your bitchy ass of a loner. She wants you to be really out there, just not messing with shit like doing keg stands because Seo Changbin is a terrible influence. Woojin once had to drop his shift at the sushi place to drive Jeongin home because Changbin left him hanging on the beanbag chair for a game of beer pong. Jeongin has never gone to another single party since. 
“You hate literally everyone!” Yeji’s getting impatient, you can feel it.
“Are you telling me it’s my fault that people are shitty?” you bark, massaging the sides of your temple tiredly. You wish you could just drop the entirety of your current presentation to Yeji because your brain cells are already evaporating one by one into thin air.
She barks back, merely sneering, “C’mon! Y/N, it’s not like you ever have plans for the weekend.”
“But I’m having midterms on Monday, I didn’t spend my time on those notes for nothing.”
She shakes her head at you almost in disapproval. Sure, you’re a coward for backing out on this because BamBam’s no stranger to you. That Thai kid has been hanging out with Chan since middle school and he always offers to buy you coffee whenever you happen to drop by as they’re working on a project together. He’s a nice guy, but you don’t know him that well. Something in your gut is telling you that he has weird friends (he totally does). And you’re not about to overdrink only to blurt out an awful confession to Minho while being surrounded by a bunch of crackheads that aren’t in your social sphere.
“I heard kids are vapi-” Yeji stops herself, thinking she should just give up, and get ready for the next batch of sleep-deprived customers coming in at lunch break before Jeongin chucks an avocado at her direction for chit-chatting too much about your gigantic crush on Minho. “Nevermind, it’s not like you’d care anyway, have fun with reviewing I guess.” And with that, she leaves you alone with the cup of plain water to dump the used coffee grounds in the trash.
It takes you at least ten seconds to comprehend what she just said. And you’ve come up with a new yet very last-minute decision: screw midterm because you’re making sure that Lee Minho’s going home in one piece. 
Very timely, your phone buzzes on the wooden counter.
[10:38 AM]
lino | hey you still on campus?
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three.
The blush scattered across your cheekbones just grows ten shades darker when you see Minho at the front gate leaning against his black Kawasaki; disheveled hair, hands stuffed inside his pockets, occasional puffs of smoke escaping his lips, and unbothered gaze. You’ve never told him this, you’re not telling him this now, and you’re never gonna tell him; but he looks stupidly good in that biker jacket. Again, you don’t get how someone can look this good early in the morning. 
“What are you doing here?” you murmur grimly, approaching him from behind. It feels like he’s doing this to your heart on purpose, without even trying. And those girls over there are making you very uncomfortable by eyeing your roommate up and down like he’s an expensive piece of steak with a gold leaf sticking to it.
Minho turns sideways and flashes you a smile; your little heart just did a perfect cartwheel because of that, it can only take so much. “Sorry, I kinda lost track of time, but I still promised to pick you up, didn’t I?” he says casually as your face morphs into a deep frown because you’re basically confused. The only problem is: you don’t even know why you’re confused. There’s this fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and now you feel as though someone just gives you a blow to the head when Minho looks straight into your eyes, brows slightly knitted together.
This is not healthy. 
“You didn’t answer my calls or my texts.”
Minho thinks you look cuter than usual when you’re silently fuming because you’re not the type to lash out on people. But it’s not so cute anymore when you threatened to flush his AirPods down the toilet that one time when he spilled ketchup on your carpet. He just hopes he doesn’t end up sleeping on the couch tonight like last time. 
“I put my phone on silent, as always,” he reminds you of how much of a pain in the ass it is to receive a call-back or a simple reply from him. 
You make a face, “Whatever, didn’t I tell you not to make a scene? Have you seen those chicks back there? They’re watching me as if I’m sabotaging their dreams of eating you alive.” Well, you can’t exactly blame your roommate for having girls gushing over him wherever he goes because...it’s his fault for looking like a snack all the time. 
Minho quickly detects how you’re not overly fond of his admirers and needless to say, he’s fairly amused. “Then let them,” he puts an arm over your shoulders and pulls you flushed against him, ruffling your hair. Moments later, you’re already hearing scandalous gasps along with hushed whispers going through your eardrums like a never-ending train. It’s really setting your nerves on fire. 
“Don’t you think that this is weird?”
“What?” Now it’s Minho who’s confused here. 
You slightly push him away and avert your gaze elsewhere to avoid eye contact. “We’re roommates, right?” you mumble, slightly unsure about...all of this. 
“Hmm, what about it?”
“Well, I don’t know…” you fiddle with the hem of your jacket and sigh. “What if people keep getting the wrong idea about us?” You sound somewhat regretful as if your decision of taking him in as your roommate was a mistake, as if you feel like it’s better off if he wasn’t in your life at all, as if the past month was completely meaningless. Since when did things become this complicated? It started with a harmless one-month contract and now Minho’s not sure of what he should do next. But that’s not it, is it? Maybe he’s just overthinking too much. 
He looks hesitant for a moment there, very not-Lee-Minho of him. “We’re still cool right?” Minho tilts his head to the side, the afternoon sunlight slips through fluffs of white clouds and brings the constellations in his warm brown eyes to life. Though he looks like a scolded child, you can’t help but want to put this moment into a frame and simply cherish it for the rest of your life. 
“Beats me,” you breathe out, silently hating yourself for not being able to get angry at him. It’s harder than you thought, really, and it doesn’t help when his eyes keep doing that thing to your poor little heart. “Make me pasta and we’re good,” you end up chuckling when Minho’s expression turns a solid three hundred and sixty at the offer.
“That’s not a very smart move for a business major, your loss,” he replies with a goofy smile, tossing the helmet that he got you yesterday in your direction. And if you pay attention enough, you can almost see Minho exhaling out of relief. But you’re too busy staring at the ground to douse yourself in your own giddiness to notice. “Oh crap, I think I left my wallet at Hyunjin’s,” he tells you after swinging a leg over on his shiny vehicle. 
You narrow your eyes at him, “You don’t need your wallet to make me pasta now do you?”
“By the way, are you going to BamBam’s party?”
“Only if you’re going,” you scratch the bridge of your nose with your ring finger, a little embarrassed to admit that he’s the only reason why you’re ditching midterms. 
Minho’s hearty laugh fills your eardrums, shit-eating grin and all. “If it makes you feel better, Chan’s driving us,” he voices without looking at you, but your chest still swells either way. 
You fucking hate how you have the softest spot for him. 
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four.
You’re already regretting this although you’ve only been sitting in Chan’s back seats for less than twenty minutes. Crankiness takes over your body as a result of reviewing for the whole afternoon, your eyelids are getting droopy, and your head seems to be all too big for your neck at this rate. More reasons for you to not drink tonight. 
“Ugh, why am I even here?” you groan, and Jisung scrunches his nose, slightly alarmed because you’re not usually this loud unless you’re high on caffeine. 
Minho tells you in the most lighthearted way possible, “Because you love me.” 
You wish you could just put his head through a wall because everything and anything coming out of his mouth are never healthy for your mind, or heart. “Uhm, no I don’t.”
“But you did confess your love to me,” he singsongs as if he just hit a jackpot with his lottery ticket, angling his head to toss you a wink. “I have receipts, ma’am. They’re right here, in my heart.” Minho’s never seen you so giddy before so he recorded everything, but he’s not planning on putting himself on a chopping block by telling you that. 
You shove his arm and purse your lips, flaming cheeks but the car’s too dark for him to see it. “I was sick, asshole, I talk shit more when I have a fever than when I’m drunk,” you defend yourself helplessly, not enjoying the fact that he had to bring it up when you’re in a confined space with Seo Changbin and Han Jisung. 
“Minho doesn’t like it when Y/N raises her voice.” Great, now he’s talking in third person. 
“What are you even? Four?”
He winks at you, “Baby me, baby.”
“Oh my god shut the fuck up and get away from me!”
“You’ll never get rid of me, baby.” Eventually, you give up because you’re too mentally exhausted and there’s still a long night ahead of you. You’re not wasting your energy in pointless arguments with him because you both yell at each other on a daily basis anyway. 
“Maybe he’ll zip it if you tell him that you love him,” Jisung suggests innocently with a not-so-innocent look on his face. He’s already acting dumb when he’s this fucking sober so you’re not looking forward to two hours later when vodka’s practically replaced his own blood. 
“I’d rather chew off my own foot.” Changbin snorts involuntarily at your stiff remark, Chan mutters a small ‘ouch’ while Jisung’s too busy laughing his ass off. And a demeaning silence descends after that. 
Minho’s right next to you, oddly unresponsive to the situation, his head leaning against your shoulder as he gazes dejectedly out the window. You don’t see how stormy his eyes are. He also misses his motorcycle tremendously because Chan’s the safest (slowest) driver to ever exist. No joke, if he keeps going at the pace of thirty miles per hour then you should just skip the party and watch a movie while getting drunk at his place altogether. 
“Can you go any fucking slower?”
“Excuse me?” Chan laughs in disbelief, he’s a little offended because he personally thinks he’s a good driver, maybe a little bit too obedient when it comes to the law. Hey, at least you know you’re in good hands. “I’m not trying to get us all killed before BamBam could poison one of you guys.” 
Jisung purses his lips as he’s reminded of the last party where he ran into that Thai dude. He gave him a plastic cup, telling him that it’s merely a harmless fruity vodka only for Jisung to get kicked out by an Uber driver after throwing up in the back seats. Turns out, the lemons and oranges in the cocktail were relatively spoilt. 
“I’m gonna die from boredom before we could even get into a car accident,” Minho informs him unconstructively, staring at some random notifications from Instagram of people commenting on his cats’ photos, text messages from his mom and swipes them all away. Mostly to chuckle to himself like a moron because of his lock screen. Yes, your stupid face is still on there after three weeks and you don’t know if you should be crying or laughing.
Chan narrows his eyes at the rear-view mirror, “It seems like you’re entertaining yourself just fine by looking at Y/N’s face.” 
“This photo does make me laugh because it’s priceless,” the younger boy states without turning his head to look at you. “But still, bored.” 
The car grows silent again soon after because Chan’s already been stressed out enough from traffic since clearly, people can’t drive to save their own lives. But it’s not like your friends can keep their mouths shut for the rest of the trip anyway. 
“Boreddd,” Minho voices randomly while a J.One’s song is blasting through the speaker. It’s a terribly soft song and it doesn’t help when Minho feels like he can downright sleep through an earthquake, potentially falling into an enormous crack on the Earth’s surface and still being able to nap like there’s no tomorrow. He’s just glad that Jisung grew out of ‘Wow’ and embraces his awkward self through his own music. It’s..sentimental but what’s a J.One song without that element?
Changbin looks up from his phone for half a second, wholly uninterested. “Then shut up and sleep,” he says expressionlessly. Very timely, his most recent track comes up next on the playlist and he starts rapping along with it. Minho thinks he can really use a good eye shut as SpearB is performing live right behind him because Changbin can only stay sober like this for so long until he gets his hands on one of BamBam’s sketchy-looking concoctions. 
You’re starting to get bored too at this rate because usually, during times like this when the car is filled with nothing but music and everyone (except for the driver) feels like they’re falling into a food coma, a certain idiot will—
“Y/N, don’t you have a midterm on Monday?” Ah, there it is. 
Jisung bends himself forward and drapes an arm over the leather seat, scrunching his nose at the sight of Minho sleeping soundly against your shoulder. He’s still bitter about the fact that Minho refuses to drive anyone other than you with his motorcycle for some reason. Exclusive things are always so annoying. 
You exhale deeply because Jisung reminds you of that one kid who always asks questions that stress the hell out of the teachers back in high school. Would it kill for him to just shut up once in a while? 
“I do, and I haven’t got a wink of sleep since yesterday afternoon,” you tell him rather lazily, shifting when Minho snuggles himself closer to you, his hair tickling your jawline. You pray he doesn’t know how fast your heart is beating. “A little alcohol might spare me a night of crying myself to sleep.” 
Jisung lets his bottom lip stuck out like he’s a fucking five-year-old not allowed to get his favorite ice-cream flavor. “Aww, you should have asked Minho for cuddles then, pretty sure he’d be more than happy to—,” he remarks sarcastically and you wish you could just throw him in the middle of an intersection. He’s lucky because Minho’s a heavy sleeper or he would have been knocked senseless or something. The last thing Chan needs is being forced to pull over for having wild animals wrestle the shit out of each other in his vehicle. 
“Hey, fuck off,” you snarl at him, knowing you should have chosen the passenger seat instead. That way, you wouldn’t be fuming inside because you can’t physically strangle Han Jisung to his imminent death. He has already tattooed that image into the back of your brain and you swear you’ve never heard a creepier chuckle from your friend. 
Jisung notices the coral tint on your cheeks and sneers, leaning back against his seat. “Yeah right, as if you’re actually gonna get drunk,” he says snarkily. “You’re just gonna be there to prevent Lee Minho from making bad decisions.” 
“I decided to come because Yeji wanted me-“
“Yeji who? In what world will you have time for her when you’re too busy staring at Minho like a total creep? Wanna bet ten bucks?” 
That’s bullshit because Lee Minho is already your entire world. 
Chan butts in, “Make that fifty.”
Changbin raises his hand, “I’d bet my Tesla.” Your friends really spelled out ‘a bunch of fucking clowns’ in bold, gigantic capital letters and you’re this close to facepalm yourself against Chan’s steering wheel. This is why you don’t go to parties with them that often because you’re stuck with cleanup duties with Seungmin until these crackheads grow out of their amateur drinking habits. 
“You’re just jealous because he would rather call you an Uber than give you a lift himself,” you say pointedly and Jisung lets out the loudest, most scandalous gasp. So dramatic. 
“You,” he jabs a finger at you, eyes wide in accusation. “Need a nap.”
You laugh dryly, ignoring the urge to snap a picture of his flabbergasted expression and turn it into a new meme for your group chat. “You don’t say, Han, you don’t say.”
And Changbin rolls his eyes over the moon, vividly picturing where this disastrous conversation is gonna go. Basically, he wants you to get shitfaced as soon as you step foot into BamBam’s house so he’ll have a sappy, drunk confession video to toss on Twitter tonight because Woojin just posted a picture of him with a drumstick dipped inside a glass of what looks like a watered-down Margarita. He’s highly concerned since there hasn’t been anything juicy on his feed other than his friends creeping people out with their questionable content. 
“If you two don’t end up getting drunk and kiss, I’m gonna be pissed,” Changbin says casually as if it’s just an afterthought. This prompts you to chuck your phone in his direction—you can care less about your screen protector at this point if it means stopping him from taunting you further. 
He asserts like a snake, “Hey, remember that time where you tripped over Kkami and totally crushed Minho under your weight?”
“I blame gravity for that.”
“But Albert Einstein said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love.”
“Who cares about Albert Einstein?!” you whisper-shout harshly, cautiously eyeing Minho’s sleeping figure. He scrunches his nose and murmurs something that you can’t quite hear before turning over to face you completely. His arms unexpectedly slip underneath yours like second nature. He furrows his eyebrows occasionally, other times he’d be grinning like an idiot and his lips are slightly agape, full eyelashes framing his eyes beautifully. Sometimes you wonder how weird his dreams are whenever you caught him talking (and cursing) in his slumber. 
Changbin wants to pry aloud when you start staring at Minho for too long; he might as well be tossed on the freeway at this point before exasperation squeezes the little amount of oxygen left out of his chest. This is worse than Hyunjin’s terrible rom coms. He props his head onto his hand in boredom as Chan pulls over and turns off the engine. “Hey we’re here, why not wake your prince up with a kiss—”
“I’m gonna kick your ass,” you threaten. 
Now there are two distasteful tattoos at the back of your head. And you will not hesitate for a heartbeat sacrificing the entirety of your bank account to get them removed. To get Lee Minho removed from your mind.
If only it were that easy.  
“Mhmm,” the figure beside you lets out a low grunt and hugs your arm closer instinctively. His warmth seeps through the fabric of your denim jacket and sets your heart on fire. You’re ready to flick his forehead any second now to interrupt his slumber but before you could even do anything, Seo Changbin aggressively opens the door and you widen your eyes in horror. Where the fuck did he get a megaphone? And what for?
“Bitch wake up! Those drinks aren’t gonna finish themselves!”
It’d be a miracle if you ended up finding him alive by dawn. 
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five.
“Y/N you ass, give it back!
“No, we’ve only been here for three hours and this is your fifth cup already,” you tell her in a mildly serious tone before dumping her cup of whatever the fuck of a yellow substance that Ryujin gave her ten minutes ago into the sink. 
Yeji plops herself onto the sofa in the living room after you drag her out of the kitchen where people are making out on the marble counter. Glad to see nothing’s changed...idiots. “God, you’re such a party pooper, I shouldn’t have told you to come,” she complains in between small hiccups, alcohol tinting her cheeks beet red. 
“I’m here to save your ass and this is how you’re repaying me?” Your question didn’t come out as coherent and threatening as you imagined and every single cell inside your body is shaking for no specific reason. 
Your friend narrows her eyes down into a mere glare like a detective in those crimes shows that you spend way too much time on and you’re debating whether you should be laughing or pissing yourself. She fucking knows that you’re lying. She fucking knows the sole reason for you to be here. “Give me a break, it’s not like you’re doing anything besides staring at your boyfriend from afar,” Yeji scoffs dejectedly. 
“God forbids ‘Lee Minho’ and ‘my boyfriend’ go in the same sentence,” you grit, subconsciously averting your gaze around the living room to spot your roommate. All he’s been doing is being held back by Chan when he tried to murder Changbin once, catching up with his old friends from high school and hanging out with some of his classmates, ranting about how much he dreads Kim’s eight AM, gushing with Hyunjin over some senior’s choreography set. By the looks of it, Jisung must have handed him at least seven of those red party cups from the bar—thanks to BamBam who keeps restocking them every hour. 
Yeji chuckles creepily when the alcohol finally hits her hard, you think you just got chills by the way that she’s leaning closer. “Of course not,” she hiccups into your ear, words slurred, “Lee Minho’s not my boyfriend, he’s your boyfriend.” You look at her in the eye, and mentally regret your life choices. How insufferable. 
“I mean, seriously,” she slams her body back onto the couch and groans; you can’t tell if it’s out of frustration or the cushion is too soft for her back. “It’s like you’re living the life of the main protagonist in a Harry Styles fanfiction! Do you know how many girls and boys would kill to live in the same apartment as that?” Her index finger is pointed directly at the person you’ve been watching and avoiding all night, across the room with a dart in his hand as he stands in front of the dartboard. 
“Were you aiming for the board or were you plotting to kill me? Because I can’t tell! I-can’t-fucking-tell!” Changbin shouts over the music and you momentarily cringe at the crack in his voice; it’s never a college party without one of your friends riling each other up over the dumbest things. And also, who thinks it’s a good idea to lend an unstable Lee Minho a sharp object of any kind?
You look away as heat flares through your nostrils when Minho accidentally glances at you after laughing at some corny joke that Chan made. He’s more than mildly hammered right now, you suppose, because, well, Chan can only make people laugh when they’re exceptionally drunk. 
A stupid question then slips out of your lips. “With what?” It sounds like you only have one brain cell and are perpetually dumb. It makes you feel even dumber when there’s nothing but a can of Coke inside your body. 
“A hottie who dances, cooks, has a good sense of humor, lowkey a genius, highkey a tsundere, shares a name with a famous actor. Far more handsome than the actor himself, if I dare.” Yeji has no hesitation whatsoever naming every reason as to why people on campus shamelessly throw themselves at your roommate on a daily basis. And now your head grows ten times fuzzier, floating mundanely in the clouds above. Basically, you feel like you’re drunk—except your confidence isn’t sky high enough to do something stupid—which makes no absolute sense. 
The silver-haired girl next to you puts an arm around your neck and giggles, you’re highly perturbed that her vocal cords are gonna give in tomorrow when she convinces you through FaceTime that you should be extra careful with your notes since she won’t be showing up to class. “Oh! And he has three cats, right? Cat people are said to be more intuitive and thoughtful, that’s a bonus,” Yeji asserts and your jaw is on the floor at this rate. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance during lunch break and she already knows this much?
No wonder Minho never talked about his cats with Felix and Seungmin again.
“I bet you read that off a Buzzfeed article.” 
“Doesn’t necessarily mean it’s wrong!”
You inhale and exhale deeply, linking your fingers together, “Yeah, but that’s all people will ever see.”
“Well, what else can they like about him?”
“I don’t know,” you say bluntly, but the rouge on your cheeks is anything but ‘blunt’. “They don’t see how stuck-up he is, how he loves hogging the blanket all to himself, how he secretly stocks up a stash of trashy snacks. They don’t see the way his eyes sparkle when he looks into their eyes during a conversation because he’s actually a very attentive listener.”
Yeji pats your back without turning her head, slightly amused, “I think you meant how he looks into your eyes during a conversation.”
Your eyes scan the room one more time to find Minho hugging his stomach from laughing too much, there are actual tears in his eyes because Changbin just lost a bet and apparently he has to belly flop himself into the pool as a punishment. You haven’t seen him this happy in a while, even when he’s potentially dying from a really bad stomachache but it still puts your heart at ease knowing he’s having fun tonight. 
Needless to say, he always knocks the breath right out of your lungs without much effort. Even when he’s ditched the leather jacket and ripped jeans, you still think no one looks better than him in a large t-shirt and sweatpants. 
“But I don’t get it,” Yeji looks over at you this time, real carefully because your tone just grows firmer and more serious. “How can he just stand there, laugh...and look so beautiful?”
“I told you—”
“Yeah that’s exactly what I need to hear right now, Yeji,” you facepalm almost immediately, highly disappointed in yourself. 
Jisung’s getting his ten dollars on Monday when you surprise him with two slices of cheesecake from his favorite dessert place. Changbin can keep his Tesla and Chan...Chan isn’t getting anything.
You push yourself off the blue velvet couch and groan, you’re getting sore quickly because the cushions are far too soft. “Let me get some fresh air, I feel like I’m gonna to lose my mind,” you tell your friend but you doubt that she caught it since the music is all too loud for students to communicate properly. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why fistfights during parties are a thing. 
“Uhm, wait,” Yeji tugs onto your sleeve and jerks her head towards the direction of Minho. “I’m sorry but what the hell does your boyfriend want now?”
“Huh where—“
Like..three feet away. Or a whole lot closer. 
“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” And you find Minho standing in front of you with his arms crossed stubbornly, eyebrows knitted together and tinted pink cheeks. He looks a little pissed off, and you don’t think you’re both on the same page here. 
When you give him a ‘what do you mean’ look, your roommate feels the need to unlock his phone and jab his index finger against his poor crusty screen as he shows you at least fifty messages that he’s been spamming in the last half an hour. This reminds you of the yellow Post-It note that Minho violently smacked onto your fridge the very night when he first moved in. 
‘I hereby fucking declare that if we did end up going to the same party (doubt btw), we would keep our phones with us 25/8 so one can save the other’s ass from stupid decisions— lee minho’ he wrote. Minho knows all too well the only ass that needs to be saved is his. And you’ve thought about taking the note down several times but you don’t think you’d have the heart to. 
“Oh,” your head draws a blank canvas and you look for your phone in your pocket. But then, “I left my phone in Chan’s car.”
Minho rolls his eyes at you and decides that he’s too impatient to wait for Chan to sober up and remember where he left his keys. “Whatever,” he manages to crack a small smile, one that shines through the dimmed LED light on the ceiling and makes your heart stuck in your throat. “Let’s get out of here, I have something to tell you.” 
“Hey hey hey,” Yeji tries to get up from the couch but her limbs are too wobbly. “You can’t just tap out all of a sudden and steal her from me like that. Don’t even think for a minute you second rate—”
“Yeah, no, she’s mine.”
You’re downright baffled. But you’re not sure if it’s because of what he said ten seconds ago and your heart is going haywire, your brain cells are giving in on you or it’s because he’s tugging you by the wrist and piloting you through the impending chaos of sloppy college students. 
You’re not sure if you want to know. You’re not sure if you’re ready. 
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six.
Fall arrives sooner than you thought and it almost makes you miss summer. Though you didn’t really have anything exciting besides an internship that refrained you from living on YouTube for too long. 
The evening is oddly cold, but you’ve never had a problem with the tips of your fingers growing chilly. It’s different tonight—it’s the kind of coldness that slips through your flesh and into your bones, coming in contact with the thumping force of your heart, causing it to shiver. There’s nothing to do but keep your gaze straight forward, your feet moving on their own with the one and only goal of heading home. Clouds with the murky color of wet ashes pass by, and the ground as its dank reflection—a reminder of how humanity is ruining the planet. 
The streets are so quiet and tranquil; you’re afraid that Minho might be able to hear your heartbeat. Now you’re pointing a finger at society in accusation because it’s the weekend yet no elder couples are taking their night strolls, no middle-aged ladies in fluffy jackets are walking their spoiled teacups dogs and no wasted college students are roaming the streets with ‘trouble’ spelled out on their forehead. Really, you’d rather stare at people in a creepy way and zone out than constantly thinking about Lee Minho when he’s right beside you. 
This is terribly suffocating and you don’t think if you can keep this up in the next thirty minutes until both of you get home and melt into the comfort of your bed. 
“Sober up, Mister Celebrity, that’s too much fun for tonight.” Minho winces slightly when you press a can of cold green tea against his cheeks as he’s about to doze off on the wooden bench next to the vending machine. While he’s taking a swig, you feel a silent obligation to take a seat but your eyes are determinedly fixed on the curb. 
The bench suddenly feels far too big and the night breeze is far too cold for Minho’s liking, so he shifts his body closer, fingers brushing over yours and sending electricity down your spine. “What do you mean?” he scoffs, finding it hard to not look at you so his gaze is temporarily glued onto the can of green tea in his palms. “Tonight was nothing compared to Jisung’s birthday.” He can still feel the remaining warmth from your hands, it makes him wonder how it’d feel to actually hold them. 
“Ugh, god,” you shake your head in disbelief, internally cringing. “Don’t even remind me.”
You still don’t know what Hyunjin fed him that day to the point he couldn’t remember what happened. All hell broke loose Felix posted a video of him pretending to be a stupid ostrich and trying to do a mating dance towards Jisung on Twitter. No one dares to talk about that scarred video since. Now that he’s reminded you of it, you wish you didn’t own brain cells in the first place. This is why the internet is scary. 
“What is it that you wanted to tell me anyway?” 
Minho stops for a second at your question and places his beverage down on the bench. He stares distantly at the space ahead as if he’s fighting with himself inside his own head, seriously contemplating something. It’s come to your attention that this isn’t very like his usual self. Minho never hesitates for a second when he has something in mind. Even when he knows that you might rip his head off.
He exhales deeply, turns his head, and makes direct eye contact with you for what seems like an eternity. His eyes are as wide open and honest as a child’s, they possess something so much more the longer you stare at them. A warmth, safety. Your heart is gonna combust if he doesn’t get this over with soon. 
Then, “I think I forgot to put yeast in the batter.” Wait what?
“Minho!” you punch his arm, earning a low grunt from the blond-haired boy. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!” He’s looking at you as though your eyes are turning red with rage and smoke is coming out of your ears, scared for his own life but truthfully, you’re just relieved. Surprisingly. 
“Wait, so you’re not mad?” he asks you with a wide-eyed expression, trying way too hard to keep a straight face. “Aren’t we supposed to bring homemade bread for the get together at the nursing home tomorrow?”
“Old people still enjoy Bingo for some reason, they can have that instead of bread.” His mouth forms a small ‘o’ as he scoots closer to you and you can tell that he reeks off alcohol, which is making you a little dizzy. When your gaze falls elsewhere but Lee Minho, you attempt to appear casual, “But if you wanna bake so badly, I can still pull an all-nighter and start over with you.” That was doable, but you could have done better—should have sounded like you didn’t really care. 
Minho flings his bangs away from his face and tosses his head back, chuckling breathlessly. “Don’t you have a midterm to stress over instead of me? I don’t want you to pick out every single strand of hair on your head after baking with me.” He finally said something nice once in a while, you sorta appreciate it. “It’d be embarrassing when my parents FaceTime me and see you as bald as my great grandfather.” Nevermind, he’s still the same old jerk. 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you’ll be moving out in two weeks, either way, right?” Your tone sounds sad and grim all of a sudden; it really dampens the atmosphere because Minho is now looking at you with concern laced in his brown eyes. “Look, I get that it’s bothersome to be my roommate so there’s no need to feel bad. I’ll be fine going back to my old life where my feet don’t get cold in the middle of the night because no one would be there to hog the blanket anymore.”
Minho feels the need to clear things up here. “I never said anything about moving out,” he grabs you by the shoulders and hopes you could just look at him when he’s being serious for once. “Y/N, who even said anything about moving out? Was it the landlord?”
“No,“ you say, still not willing to face him directly. You’re such a coward. 
“If so, why would I move out? Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off or something?”
You’re trying so hard not to snap at this point. “No!”
“Then why can’t you just fucking look at me?!”
“You’re still drunk, let me buy you another—“
Minho shakes you forcefully, hoping to knock some common sense into that brain of yours. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not drunk!” he cries helplessly, not caring about the fact that he’s waking up every cat possible in the neighborhood. “Just- just look at me, will you?”
You stubbornly keep your eyes anywhere but him. “Why would I look at your stupid face?”
“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You’re not usually like this.”
Every single cell inside your body quivers simultaneously when he says so—good god, no, he’s testing you. Minho knows something’s off. Now to think about it again, you’d rather let him dirty your carpet than being put on trial like this.
“You wanna know why I’m acting like this? It’s because of you! You’re making me nervous! It’s your fault for making me feel this way!”
“What?” he blurts, eyes blinking numerous times in disbelief. “What did I ever do to you?”
“God, Minho, you can’t possibly be this dense. Tell me, that you’ve never, not even once, seen me turning beet red when you simply look at me in the eye. Or when you’re just sitting there, laughing your ass off about something stupid. It makes my heart flutter, okay? You make my heart flutter. Do you know how much of an effect you can have on me? You don’t go around juggling with others’ feelings like that,” your voice grows smaller and smaller towards the end until there’s nothing but an oddly comfortable silene floating midair. A sense of relief washes over you; you unknowingly exhale.
Minho stares at you in awe for a moment there, until he also speaks up for himself. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” he almost snickers, and this causes you to peel your gaze away from a random bush to gawk at his response. “You’re telling me to not go around juggling with others’ feelings? If anything, you’re the one who keeps messing with my heart. What am I supposed to do? Not get drunk so that I won’t be able to get away for doing dumb things?”
“What dumb things?”
“I don’t know, kiss you?”
“Fuck, you can’t get away with it this time now, can you?”
You’re already regretting this and there’s no turning back. Because when Minho subconsciously runs his tongue over his bottom lips, you’re already fighting the rouge spreading on your cheekbones. He shortens the distance between your heads until your lips are practically a breath away from his. Impatient, you grab a fistful of his shirt to smash your lips against his. Minho stays frozen for a nanosecond, taken aback by your boldness before pulling you closer by the waist. You’re hesitant at first, but he guides you through it, telling you that it’s okay by embracing you more tightly. Dear god, Minho’s kissing you and the world just falls away. It’s slow, comforting in ways that words can never be. He slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, smiling into it when giddiness bubbles up inside his stomach. 
The world still feels like it’s spinning when he parts away, an alcoholic taste mixed with the green tea ghosts your lips, and your face grows ten times hotter. Even in this cracked darkness, Minho sees you blush hard and is fully aware that his cheeks are mirroring yours—he doesn’t even bother to convince himself that it’s from the alcohol, because it isn’t. 
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Minho questions though his breath is still a bit shaky from the kiss. He really didn’t lie when he said that he could never stop bothering you. 
You can’t help but smile at him brightly; this causes his heartbeat to spike inside his chest. “Well, do I have to?” He shakes his head and stares down at your hands until he musters up every strand of courage left to finally intertwine them with his own. Fits like a glove. 
“Come on, let’s go home,” he tells you softly, eyes crinkling into a pretty crescent moon shape. But you stop him right there when he attempts to stand up and wordlessly lean your forehead against his. Minho understands that you simply need a moment so you both hover right there, simply melting into each other’s touch. But what you say next just makes the ignited passion inside his heart flare-up. He’s at a loss for words, utterly speechless. 
“I am home.”
“Welcome home then, Y/N,” Minho whispers.
Everything feels like a dream that you’d never want to wake up from. His hands are clasped on either side of your face, resting just below the lobes of your ears. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks so that you won’t drift away, your breaths mingling. Never before has your own name made your heart flutter. But you guess it’s only because Minho said it. You do know that it’s not an afterthought, nor out of impulse. It’s a promise, for whatever’s coming your way on this path, he’s never gonna leave you behind. And the moment he feels that thing beating inside his chest is in sync with yours, he slowly leans in again.
Albert Einstein once said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love. And you have every right to argue with him in the afterlife because you’ve confirmed that Minho is your gravity. Gravity keeps you grounded, always get a hold of you so that you won’t ever have to wander off too far away. It’s there for you but it doesn’t have to act like it cares. Minho’s kinda like that too—he picked you up every time you said you’re good walking home, he only stocked up the stash of candies to secretly feed your midnight cravings. They only differ so much where his heartbeat for you is loud, undaunted and he loves you fearlessly; nothing shall meddle with his feelings for you as long as the way your eyes light up when they meet his doesn’t change. 
Before you met Minho, you didn’t know that it was possible to just look at someone and smile for no reason. The way his lips curl up when he smiles, his sarcastic remarks, his kindhearted nature though he’s awfully good at hiding it. That’s what people do when they’re in love, they say—to fawn over the littlest things but they’re what makes you fall so hard for him. But as time passes by, you’ve learned that it’s actually quite nice to be in love with someone. Because then, you get to spend your time and effort on their happiness as well, not just your own. In exchange, that person is capable of bringing colors to your dull world, tearing down your walls, and showing you just how beautiful life can be. Surely, Minho might not stay by your side forever in this crazy game of Monopoly but you’d risk it all for him even if the sky comes crashing and the universe turns upside down. 
After all, you can’t love alone. 
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Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Kou [Manservant Ending]
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ー The scene starts on the balcony of the Mukami manor
Kou: ...Love, huh?
Are these feelings I harbor for her, love...?
Sometimes it’s painful, yet warm and comforting...
...I see. I am sure that love is just as pretty as the blue sky.
*TIMESKIP*
ー The scene shifts to the hallway at school
Subaru: ...So you’ve decided you won’t return?
Yui: Yes...Sorry.
Subaru: You don’t need to apologize. I don’t give a damn ‘bout you after all.
I only asked ‘cause Ayato and the others are fuckin’ annoyin’ with their constant whinin’.
Kou: ーー Yui!
Yui: Ah...Kou-kun.
Subaru: ...Haah. He’s one of those annoyin’ bastards as well. I’m leavin’.
ー Subaru steps away
Kou: ...What were you talking about?
Yui: Nothing important. ...Are you mad?
Kou: ...I’m not. I’m...no longer my old self.
Yui: Yeah, you’re right.
( Kou-kun trusts me. That’s why it’s fine. )
( After all, now we’ve realized that we’re connected through a strong bond. )
Kou: ...Let’s head home, Yui. I want you...as soon as possible.
Yui: ...Yeah, sure.
*TIMESKIP*
ー The scene shifts to Kou’s room
Kou: Nn...Hah...! Give me...more of your blood?
Yui: ...Ah...
Kou: ...This isn’t enough, not at all. Give me more, more...Say, Yui...You don’t mind, do you...?
Yui: Go ahead...As much as you’d like.
Kou: ...I won’t hold back then. Nn...Phew...!
Yui: ( It hurts...However, I’m sure this is a sign of Kou-kun’s love as well. )
( When I look at it like that, I can take any pain...After all, I finally realized that I love you. )
Kou: ...This is in the way...!
Yui: Eh...?
ー Kou cuts her
Yui: Ah...!!
( He cut through my skin with a knife...! )
Kou: It gets in the way...Anything which separates us should just disappear! Whether it’s your skin, your flesh or even your blood...!
Yui: Ow...!! It hurts...!
Kou: ...!
ー Kou steps back
Kou: I’m sorry, Yui...! I...
Yui: No...It’s okay...I’m fine.
Kou: How could you be fine...You’re bleeding this much...Does it hurt?
Yui: This much is fine...After all, you did this because you love me, right?
In that case, I can endure it...
Kou: ...
...I’ll go get some bandages.
ー He walks away
Yui: ( ...I don’t need those though. )
( As long as Kou-kun licks my wounds... )
ー The scene shifts to the hallway
*THUD*
Kou: ...Fuck...!
Is this love...? This nauseating feeling of my stomach twisting and turning? This is love?
Being at someone’s mercy, having them torment you as they please, is a sign of love...?
...Then were those things done to me all out of love as well? Does that imply all of those people loved me?
...Uu...!
ー The scene shifts to the bathroom
Kou: Cough...Hah...!
...I feel sick...
So love was never a pretty thing to begin with...!? This is just nasty!
Uu! Cough...Cough...Hah, haah...
...I don’t want it...
If this is love, I...
*TIMESKIP*
ー Yui is walking through the hallway
Yui: ( Ever since last night’s happening, Kou-kun hasn’t returned. I wonder if he feels sick? )
Ah, Kou-kun. Good morning. Where were you yesterday?
Kou: ...
Yui: ( Huh? Did he not hear me? )
Kou-kun?
Kou: Ah, hey, hey, Yuma-kun. About the homework we got yesterday.
Yuma: Ah? Ya really think I did that crap?
Kou: Should have figuredー I was just asking.
More importantly, she’s calling for ya. Can ya really ignore her?
Kou: Eh? Who’s ‘she’?
Yuma: The Sow. She’s been callin’ out yer name from behind ya this whole time!
Kou: Are you exhausted, Yuma-kun? Don’t say such spooky things, geez!
...There’s nobody here?
Yui: ...!
Kou: Oh well. Guess I’ll have to copy it from one of the girls in my class.
And therefore, I’m going to school early today, okay? I’m offー (1)
ー Kou runs away
Yuma: ...The fuck was that? Oi, Sow. What’s goin’ on?
Yui: Don’t ask me...!
Ruki: ...Things have become troublesome again.
Yui: Ruki-kun...! What was that just now...?
Ruki: Let me be blunt. To summarize, you no longer exist in his eyes.
...I suppose Kou was simply not ready yet. He could not control his feelings for you within himself.
Yui: That’s why he ignores me? That’s just too...!
Ruki: Now that things have reached this stage, we can no longer expect anything from him. Either way, he could not become Adam.
There is no point in you remaining here. Nobody will stop you if you want to leave this manor. Be my guest.
ー Ruki steps away
Yui: ( No way...So they’re done with me? )
( Both this family...As well as Kou-kun. )
That’s just too cruel...
( ...No, I’m sure this is just temporary. If I just act as I always have, I’m sure the Kou-kun I’ve known and love will return... )
( Right, Kou-kun...? )
*TIMESKIP*
ー The scene shifts to the living room
Yui: Kou-kun! Are you hungry?
Kou: ...
Yui: I brought you a plate of vongole bianco. You like this, right? Won’t you have a bite?
Kou: ...
Yui: ...I’ll leave it here, so please try it if you’d like, okay?
ー The scene shifts to the kitchen
Yui: ( He won’t even look at me...Almost as if I really don’t exist. )
( Why would he go that far? Didn’t he love me? )
...Say...Why? Kou-kun...
*TIMESKIP*
ー The scene shifts to the hallway at school
Female student A: Ah, Kou-kun! You came to school today!
Female student B: We were lonely because you’ve seemed so busy as of late.
Kou: Fufu, my bad! My workload increased, you see.
Female student A: Do you have time today? If you are, why don’t we drop by the karaoke booth together? I want to hear you sing!
Kou: Yeah, sure! Let’s all go then! Perhaps I should reveal my new song~
Female student B: Really!? I’m so excitedー!
Yui: ...
*TIMESKIP*
ー The scene shifts to the living room
Kou: I’m backー Oh.
Ruki: You’ve been coming home late these past days. You haven’t been up to no good, right?
Kou: I’m only hanging out with some girls. Don’t worry, we’re not crossing any lines~ (2)
Ruki: ...Kou. Are you really okay with this?
Kou: What do you mean?
Ruki: Don’t play dumb. I’m talking about Yui.
Yuma: She’s still stickin’ ‘round. We no longer need her so she’s honestly an eyesore.
Azusa: I feel a little bad for her...However, that’s also kind of nice, right...?
Ruki: She refuses to leave this house unless you reject her directly.
She continues to cling onto a sliver of hope that ‘maybe, just maybe’ or ‘perhaps one day’. Just like we did in the past.
Having to hand her over to those guys leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but we are in no position to hog Eve for ourselves when we cannot become Adam.
After all, by doing so, we would be an obstacle to that man’s wish.
Kou: ...So you want me to tell her? To go to the Sakamaki’s place?
Yuma: If ya do that, I’m sure she’ll give up.
Kou: But...If I do that, she might die, you know? Eve has to stay alive, right?
Azusa: ...It might be too late already.
Yuma: Ah? Whatcha mean, Azusa?
Azusa: I can...faintly smell her. A lovely scent...of her blood overflowing.
Kou: From where!?
Azusa: Outside, probably...I don’t know the exact location.
ー Kou rushes outside
Kou: Fuck...! Where!? Where are you!? Yui!
...The scent...of her blood...! This way!?
ー The scene shifts to the sewers
Yui: ...
Kou: ...Yui!!
*Rustle*
Kou: No way, oi...! Why are you covered in blood...!!?
Yui! Open your eyes!
Yui: ...Kou-kun...?
Kou: ...Yui, thank god you’re okay...!
What are you doing here!? Also, where does all this blood come fromーー!?
*Cling*
Yui: ーー Fufu, caught you.
Fufu...Say, does it bring back memories? You used to live in this sorta place in the past, right?
Hey, do you remember? What you said before.
You said ‘You love me, so don’t just casually talk to other people’, right?
Yet, you’re always smiling while talking to other girls.
You love me, don’t you? Then I have the right to say the exact same thing to you, no?
Kou: Yui, you...
Yui: Fufu, you finally looked my way.
Say, gaze at me with your right eye like you always do? ...What do you see?
Kou: ...I can’t see anything.
Yui: Ahaha, liar~! You should see it crystal clear.
...Aah, right. I suppose love isn’t something you see with your eyes. That’s why you don’t know either.
Say, Kou-kun. You love me. You simply haven’t realized that yet.
So...Okay? I’ll make you realize it.
You poor little thing who does not know love, I’ll teach you what a human’s love means.
Kou: ...Love is dirty. I don’t want it.
Yui: Dirty? No way! Love is pure and beautiful, you know?
Kou: How could it be pure...If it triggers such horrible, painful memories, I’d rather not know love at all.
Yui: ...My poor, ignorant Kou-kun.
But you know...Fufu, do you understand? Even if you’re like that, there’s still someone out there who loves you.
Say...? Don’t you think love is wonderful after all?
Kou: ...It’s ugly. Both love...and how you’re acting right now.
Yui: Fufu...
ー The screen fades to black
Yui: I love you, Kou-kun.
ーー THE END ーー
Translation notes
(1) お先 or ‘osaki’ is an abbreviation of the phrase お先に or ‘osaki ni’ which is uttered when someone leaves before someone else.
(2) He calls his relationship with the girls 健全 or ‘kenwen’ which means ‘healthy’ or ‘wholesome’. 
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thetomorrowshow · 3 years
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unless you take your army back ch. 5
First  -  Previous  -  Next  -  Read on AO3!
yo once again giving you guys a chapter how’s everyone doing? My posting dates will never again be on tuesday lol expect wednesdays or fridays when possible <3
anyways other business if you see an A/N in here somewhere (it’ll be between brackets) lmk and I’ll edit it out
Enjoy :)
cw: food, eating disorders, discussion of injuries
~
Jack didn’t leave to sell papes the next morning, instead bringing a cup of coffee and some porridge to Crutchie, then settling in beside him with a real fancy sketchbook and a charcoal pencil.
The coffee wasn’t that great, but Crutchie drank it all, hoping the energy would distract him from the uncomfortable tightness of his fresh bandages. Only one of the cuts that had split open was one that had needed stitches (Katherine had snipped the thread and pulled it out three days ago), but they would all probably scar. At least he already liked to wear long shirts and pants.
The porridge was fine, but rich. After about four bites, Crutchie rested the bowl on the windowsill. Just weeks ago, he would’ve been able to scarf down twice that amount in a matter of minutes, but now he could barely handle eating enough to feed a baby. He was sure he’d get better faster if he’d just eat more, but he just--couldn’t.
This wasn’t even the first time Crutchie had seen kids have trouble eating. At least half the newsies who did a stint in the Refuge came back uneasy around food, too accustomed to there being too little to go around. A lot of food was a trick, just the right amount was too much to stomach, and the little bit that they felt they needed wasn’t enough to keep them going.
So Crutchie knew that what he was going through with his food aversion was normal--expected, even. The frustrating problem was that Crutchie knew how to fix it. He had seen the others go through this, had watched Jack and Race and Specs help others, had even guided Tommy Boy through recovery himself just a few months ago. He knew the signs, he knew how to work through it, and yet he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t snap himself out of it.
Just the thought of food made him queasy, scared, uncertain of what was to come. When the guards brought food, it meant the respite was over. It meant scraps shoved down his throat as quickly as possible, followed by a day of grueling, pointless work with no breaks. He didn’t have the time to finish this bowl of porridge. More than a few bites and he was going to be tardy, the guards were going to beat him and he would fall and he wouldn't be able to get back up, not again not again not again--
“Crutchie, you gonna finish that?”
Crutchie looked up from his lap to see Jack, concern creasing his brow. He shrugged, not sure if he could even pretend to smile. “I didn’t see you eat, wanted to save some for you.” He didn’t need anyone’s help. He knew how to handle this.
Jack frowned. “Nah, I ate on the way up, nicked a bun. Is there some . . . other . . . reason?”
Stupid Jack Kelly and his ‘subtle’ prodding. Crutchie stretched his arms out a bit, affecting a casual look. A bandage rubbed against a raw patch of his chest, but instead of burning, it . . . itched.
That meant he was starting to get better, right? Or was it infected or something? Whatever it meant, it was a good excuse.
“Not really, just been itchin’ all mornin’, so I ain't all that hungry,” he explained, scratching his stomach for emphasis. “Bit bothering, y’know?”
He was sure he didn’t quite have Jack convinced, but it was enough for him to drop the matter. After all, Jack was under the impression that Crutchie had eaten a whole apple the morning before, and he’d been fairly good at emptying bowls of soup all week (not necessarily into his mouth, but Jack didn’t need to know that).
After a moment’s hesitation, Jack smiled. “Hey, itchy, huh?” He lightly punched Crutchie’s knee, which also didn’t hurt like he expected. “That’s good, means stuff is startin’ ta close up and heal.”
Crutchie nodded, feeling something in his chest try to jump excitedly. Even after falling so badly last night, he was getting better. That meant that maybe soon, he could be right back out there, hawking headlines and getting enough pity from his regulars and strangers to make twice the amount he usually did.
Thinking of it-- “Jack, why ain’t you out sellin’?”
Jack looked away--ashamed? Guilty? What? Had he gotten in trouble with the bulls again already? Jack muttered something, then buried his face in his new sketchbook, the tips of his ears burning red.
“That ain’t gonna cut it,” Crutchie said incredulously. “Who d’ya think I am, Race? I ain’t distracted that easy.”
Jack huffed, but didn’t drop his sketchbook. In a barely audible voice, he said very quickly “I soaked the Delanceys yesterday and the fellas think I oughtta stay away from ‘em and maybe take a day off ta give ‘em time ta forget about it.”
Okay, but attacking the Delanceys was something Jack did on a weekly basis. The Delanceys weren’t bright enough to carry a grudge overnight, and they were in a constant state of goading Jack, so what was different about this time?
Then Crutchie remembered their argument last night, what Jack and Davey had told him about how Oscar and Morris had been talking.
“Have they, uh,” Crutchie started, quiet, “been talking about . . . uh, ‘bout me . . . all week?”
Jack stiffened from behind his sketchbook, but nodded jerkily. “Tha’s what Specs said, anyhow.”
“Right.” Crutchie swallowed, looking away out the window. Buttons was out there, looped around a fire escape, calling something through cupped hands. The Delanceys were somewhere out there too, and could be talking about him that very moment, maybe even making plans to come after him. There was no way he could stop them, no way anyone could stop them. After all, Jack couldn’t be here all the time, and Kloppman was old, wiry but feeble compared to Oscar and Morris. They could take the man down in no time, then be up here and Crutchie would have nowhere to go and no way to escape.
Crutchie was suddenly very glad that Jack was here.
There were a few moments of silence, during which Crutchie continued to watch Buttons. His grin was visible even from this distance, growing wider any time he managed to sell a paper or two. Buttons had been having trouble selling lately--he was a little timid, too shy when it counts--so it was nice to see him having some success.
The lady talking to him now seemed nice, by the way Buttons was nodding and had fully disentangled himself from the fire escape to converse with her. The lady turned slightly, her face visible under her sun hat, and--hey! That was one of Crutchie’s regulars! She bought a paper on her way to visit her mother-in-law every other day, and always passed Crutchie’s selling spot on purpose. It was nice to see her again, almost . . . sentimental. Crutchie never thought he would feel almost misty-eyed over some lady whom he briefly interacted with a handful of times a week, but here he was. More than miss her, he missed being out there, he supposed.
“Hey, Crutch?”
Crutchie startled out of his thoughts. The woman was no longer there, Buttons once again attaching himself to the fire escape. Jack was watching him, a carefully disguised look of something on his face. Crutchie raised his eyebrows.
“Uh, so, I missed a union thing, what with last night,” Jack said. “So I’m gonna hafta do it today sometime. That cool with you?”
“What sorta thing?” Crutchie asked suspiciously. If it involved reporters and pictures and all that, Crutchie was not going to allow it to happen in here.
Not that you could stop it, a nasty voice in the back of his mind whispered, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. Jack could do anything to you right now. He was pretty angry last night, after all. You know what anger leads to.
Crutchie swallowed drily. He didn’t need to think about that.
“Oh, just a guy I gotta meet with,” Jack said, far too casually. He made a show of scratching his head. “He might bring another couple o’ fellas with him, so I’s just . . . lettin’ you know.”
Okay, so this wasn’t something he could stop. Great. That calmed him down so much. Crutchie gripped the blanket over him tightly, trying to not show that his hands had begun to tremble. He was fine, he didn’t need Jack getting all worried over nothing. It was just some . . . unknown guy. With bodyguards. Coming into the room to have a discussion with Jack.
“Hey. Hey.”
Crutchie pulled himself from his spiral to see Jack laying his hands over his. “It’s okay,” Jack said seriously. “I can chat with ‘em in another room, or outside. You don’t oughtta have guys in here that you ain’t know.”
Crutchie released his grip, more to assuage Jack than his nerves. He nodded, not sure what he was even expected to say. What if a fight broke out? And Jack was all alone, against three or four guys? He couldn’t let Jack be alone.
“Nah, it’s fine,” Crutchie said hoarsely. Wow, he needed something to drink. He hadn’t noticed his throat drying up. “I uh, I can be your second?”
The words were barely out of his mouth before he regretted them. Of course Jack didn’t want him as his second! He was just some stupid, useless, injured cripple, and Jackhad to still be mad at him for last night. He’d want Davey there, probably--Davey was one of the union heads too, right? And Davey was so good at talking things through and being all smart. All Crutchie could do was make people laugh or feel bad for him--great for selling papes and living on the street, terrible for union business.
“Would ya?” Jack asked. He almost looked a little bit relieved, which took Crutchie aback. “You know how I can get. It’s--it’s nice, havin’ somebody backin’ me up. ‘Specially you, Crutch, you’s real good at talkin’ to folks.”
The air left Crutchie’s lungs. Was he? He was pretty good at selling to just about anyone. Jack used to joke that he would be able to sell a pape to Pulitzer himself for a dollar, without the man even realizing it was his own paper or too high a price. Jack would say that to just about anyone who would listen, actually.
How had Crutchie forgotten that?
“Who’s these folks, then?” Crutchie asked, shifting a bit so that his head was almost level with Jack’s. He liked to think that he was pretty accustomed to the broken ribs at this point--they hurt, but he could now sit up without even breathing heavy. After the week he’d had, Crutchie counted that as a win.
Jack’s carefully casual air was back, clear in the stiff lines of his body and the forced half-grin on his lips. “Just some guys who got a say in newsie union stuff, y’know? From one o’ the other turfs.”
That made sense, actually. The Manhattan newsies weren’t the only ones in the union, after all. In fact, if what Elmer had excitedly told him was true, Davey had shook hands with Spot Conlon and led him straight to Pulitzer’s office, after Conlon had spoken at Davey’s rally--
Oh.
Oh no.
“You’s bringin’ Spot Conlon to the place we sleep?!”
“It was--”
“No no no, lemme get this straight,” Crutchie said, incredulous. “Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn borough, is comin’ here. To Manhattan’s lodging house. Now I know that Brooklyn joined the strike, but there is no way we’s become friends with Brooklyn in the two weeks I ain’t been around, and ya don’t show allies where ya sleep.”
“They already knows where we sleep, there’s a huge sign on the buildin’!” Jack shot back. He dropped his work and gestured widely. “Manhattan newsboys lodgin’ house, in big ol’ letters, smack on the front! Was it s’posed ta be a secret? Or do ya think they just can’t read?”
“It’s the principle of the matter,” Crutchie replied stubbornly. “Ya don’t invite them into your home, you hold ‘em at arm’s length for when they in’vitably scab!”
“Well, that ain’t no way ta treat your allies,” a voice said from the doorway.
Crutchie and Jack both looked up to see the man himself, an unimpressed Spot Conlon, with two lackeys--and also Racetrack. Race waved casually.
“Hey Jack, hey Crutch!” Race said. “Spot’s here ta meet with ya.”
Jack strode across the room, spat and shook with Spot, anxiously adjusting his hat with his other hand. “Nice ta see ya, Conlon,” he said, the geniality in his voice a stark contrast from his heated arguing moments before. Crutchie snorted. Jack shot him a glare.
“So, what’s sayin’ we get straight ta business, Kelly?” Spot suggested, walking further into the room without invitation. Race tipped his hat at them all, then stuck his cigar in his mouth and took off. “This here’s Hotshot, and the other’s Sharpshooter,” Spot threw out, gesturing at the two guys with him. They each nodded in turn.
“Right,” Jack said, “This is Crutchie, he’s my second.”
Spot turned a piercing gaze on Crutchie. Crutchie felt his face heat up as Spot’s sharp eyes took in the patchwork of yellow-brown bruises on his face and throat, the scabbed-over gash on his temple, the splint wrapping his left arm. Finally, he turned away to face Jack.
“You met with Joe of late?” Spot asked. Jack nodded.
“Saw ‘im yesterday. No complaints from his side--he’s sayin’ they’s already noticed circulation goin’ up. You’s been meetin’ with the Journal and the Sun, yeah?”
Spot gave an affirmative nod. “We got ‘em where we want ‘em,” he said with a chuckle. Crutchie waited for him to elaborate. He did not.
Jack seemed sort of disconcerted--Crutchie wondered if Spot could tell. This was all happening so suddenly. Moments ago, Crutchie hadn’t even known anyone was coming. Now there were three Brooklyn newsies standing over his bed, and he couldn’t do anything to defend himself or make them leave. Brooklyn was always angry, always jeering, doing nothing to strengthen the tentative peace they had come to a few months ago.  Really, Crutchie had good reason to be wary. Brooklyn newsies had more than once kicked his crutch out from under him.
Spot and Jack were talking about something, but Crutchie couldn’t really pay attention to them. The one called Sharpshooter was staring him down, in a way that said both I’m-trying-to-intimidate-you and I-don’t-need-to-intimidate-you-weakling. Hotshot was doing the exact same thing to Jack, but Jack seemed unbothered. Crutchie was pretty sure he wasn’t pulling that off near as well. He hadn’t been stared at like that--like he was a piece of dirt that stubbornly remained as you scrubbed at a window--since he’d been . . . there. The Refuge.
Crutchie turned his gaze to the window. Buttons was out of sight, the fire escape likely blazing hot in the sun. There weren’t very many people visible whatsoever--it was stifling out, which was probably why Brooklyn was already here. Selling would have to be done in a very particular fashion today--morning, at the coolest, when everyone was headed for work, then around the lunch hours, then the last few in the evening. Crutchie felt bad for the likely sunburned newsies, frantically trying to sell all their papes in those short windows of time, clothes sticking to them with sweat and the hot air weighing them down.
“Hey, Crutch?”
Crutchie looked back to the conversation. Jack was watching him expectantly, as was Spot. Crutchie tried to not look clueless--he had really been zoning out, hadn’t he? How much time had passed? Why was everyone looking at him?
“D’you mind answerin’ any questions Spot has? I’m gettin’ us all some water.”
Crutchie nodded. It couldn’t be that hard, right? He had totally lost track of the conversation, but he knew a fair bit about what had happened and what was going to happen with the union, mostly from Jack rambling in the afternoons when the silence became too much for one of them.
“So,” Spot said brusquely as soon as the door closed behind Jack. “All that from the strike?”
Crutchie blinked. All what? He needed a bit more context. He should’ve been listening. He opened his mouth to ask, then saw Spot vaguely waving at his body. Oh.
“Nah,” Crutchie mumbled, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “Some of it, yeah. Mostly the Refuge, though.”
Spot sucked a breath in through his teeth, and Hotshot turned away. “Looks like you was lucky to make it out alive.”
“Oh, yeah,” Crutchie said bitterly. He almost laughed. “By the end there I was ’lucinatin’ so bad I thought I’d been buried already. Probably I was hours from bein’ gone forever.”
Silence. He’d made it awkward, hadn’t he? Crutchie tried to come up with some useful purpose for Spot Conlon to know this, like maybe he’d get pity or sympathy or something and the Brooklyn newsies would leave him alone, but it honestly sounded worse than Conlon straight up hating him. Crutchie was tired of being pitied. He was tired of being a charity case.
“How long?” That was Sharpshooter, his voice pitched a lot higher than Crutchie expected. It didn’t quite match his height and dark eyes.“Was you there, I means.”
“A week, I think. It’s sorta blurry.”
Spot whistled. “Snyder musta had it out for ya. All that in just a week? I’s had boys in there for months come out lookin’ better.”
Again, Crutchie almost laughed. “Everybody has it out for the crip,” he said bluntly, his eyes on his hands as he twisted the blanket between his fingers. “Throw in my personal connection ta Jack Kelly union leader, and a week is a long time ta be lastin’.”
Crutchie looked up. Spot was giving him a strange look--it wasn't pity, like Crutchie expected. It wasn’t disgust. It wasn’t even shock that he was still alive. It was--he didn’t know. And then it was gone.
“Crutchie, right?” Spot asked, glancing out a window aloofly. Crutchie nodded. “You’s a good kid. If you ever finds you in some sorta trouble . . . you’s welcome in Brooklyn.”
What?
He understood that they were allies, but allies did not mean that anyone from either turf was allowed to just go wandering over. The only person who had ever been allowed to was Race, who sold in Brooklyn--why, Crutchie didn’t know. Crutchie didn’t think anyone knew. There were plenty of good spots in Manhattan--why did Race trek all the way to a hostile turf just to sell papes? The point was, this wasn’t something that just happened. Ever. Brooklyn and Manhattan had been on bad terms for as long as Crutchie had been a newsie, and before that as far as anyone could remember.
Crutchie didn’t have much more time to think about it, though, as Jack reentered the room, balancing three glasses of water carelessly enough that it made Crutchie tense up, as if ready to catch one when it dropped. One he handed to Spot, one to Crutchie, and the last to Hotshot. Sharpshooter rolled his eyes and swiped it, half-draining the glass before handing it back.
“Crutchie clear anything up?” Jack asked. Spot continued to stare at Crutchie, a slight crease between his brows.
“Yeah, a few things,” Spot answered absently. “A few.”
The discussions continued for another ten minutes or so, Jack eventually convincing Spot that they were not currently trying to lower the price even further (“I’ve already got Bill down ta fifty-two per hundred, why should I stop?”), and got him to agree to work closely with Davey when Jack wasn’t available. That seemed to be all they could resolve for the time being without attacking each other, which was probably the most that had ever been done by a Manhattan newsie and a Brooklyn newsie working together. When Spot went to leave, though, he turned to Crutchie.
“Ol’ Jack ever oversteps, ya know where ta find us,” he said with a firm nod. “Any guy from Brooklyn will bring ya to me, jus’ say the word.” With that, he was gone, Sharpshooter and Hotshot marching after him.
Jack froze, halfway to gathering the two glasses from where they’d been set on the floor, his mouth agape. “Wh--” he tried. Crutchie could have laughed. He didn’t. But he could’ve. “Did Spot Conlon jus’--” he whipped around to stare at Crutchie. “What’d you talk about?” he demanded. “How’d ya get Spot Conlon ta make you an honorary Brooklyn boy?”
Crutchie shrugged. He wasn’t quite sure what had passed between them himself, and he also wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. It wasn’t like he’d done anything. Spot barely knew who he was. The first time they met had been today.
“W-well, if you isn’t gonna eat that, hand it to me.”
The change in subject took Crutchie by surprise, but he passed the partly-eaten bowl of porridge to Jack, who gave him one last suspicious glance before leaving the room.
Crutchie hated being alone these days--the only things worth doing were sleeping and practicing walking. The second one was off the table after yesterday, and he was sick of sleeping, but when there was nobody around there was nothing to do but think. Nothing to do but fall deeper and deeper into a dark chasm that yawned open in his mind. Nothing to do but slowly become more and more paranoid. . . .
He wished he had asked Jack for some more water before he left. Not that Jack wasn’t coming back or anything, it just would’ve been nice to not force him to make another trip.
When Jack returned some ten minutes later, though, he was not alone. Holding his hand was Katherine, laughing at something Jack had said before they entered the room. Crutchie shrunk away. He didn’t want to see Katherine--she would try to pay for a doctor to come see him or insist on checking each of his wounds or something equally mortifying.
“Look who turned up!” Jack said brightly, and Crutchie tried not to frown too obviously.
“Hi, Katherine,” he said politely. “How’re you?”
“Oh, Crutchie, you look so much better!” Katherine exclaimed. Crutchie examined her face carefully. Mostly the truth, but something in her eyes told him that she was still worried about him. “Look at you, sitting up and everything!” a pause. “Have you, um, been eating well?”
There it was. Crutchie hadn’t seen himself in the mirror in a while--every time someone carried him to the washroom, he’d resolutely avoided it. He knew that his face was still multicolored from the various stages of healing his bruises were in, but he hadn’t even thought that he might look malnourished. Elmer’s bracelet was pretty loose on his wrist, now that he was thinking about it. His unwrapped elbow practically jutted out of his skin.
Great. He’d spent a week in the Refuge and had come out looking like the most pitiful creature ever. He was so weak--it had been such a short amount of time! And now he’d been in bed for just as long, when he should’ve been recovered by now!
“Been workin’ on it,” Crutchie managed, trying not to let his thoughts show too obviously. “Hard ta get back up ta where it’s s’posed ta be, y’know?”
“Yeah, he’s been eating less,” Jack added. “It happens, but he’s been tryin’ ta eat most everything I bring him.”
Crutchie resolutely did not blush or look away. There was no reason for Katherine to believe anything to the contrary. Still, she and Jack watched him carefully for a few moments, then exchanged a look. Was he supposed to say something?
“Jack said there was quite the scare last night,” continued Katherine. “Are you feeling okay after your fall?”
Crutchie nodded. He wasn’t lying, actually. He did feel better than he had all week, even if all of his injuries felt raw from falling. Nothing was hazy anymore, nor particularly sharp. It felt almost normal, if the pain could be ignored. He was getting better.
“Why’re you here, Kath?”
Katherine’s smile strained. “Can’t a girl check up on her best friend?”
Crutchie leveled a stare of his own at her. This was the first he’d heard of being best friends. She had to have some sort of ulterior motive--a doctor or a medicine or something stupid like that. He hated to think it, but couldn’t she just leave him alone?
“Okay, I came--of my own volition, by the way--to ask you if you’d be willing to be seen by my family doctor--”
“Nope, thanks,” Crutchie said loudly, glaring hard enough to bore a hole in Katherine’s head. “As you can see, I’s healin’ up just fine.”
“It wouldn’t cost anything, my father--”
“I won’t be botherin’ your father, if it’s all the same ta you,” Crutchie retorted. “Nor no one. I’m gonna be out there sellin’ again soon, an’ if I decides I need a doctor, I’ll save up the cost myself and see ‘im when I feel like it.”
Katherine and Jack exchanged another look, one that told Crutchie they thought he was being stubborn. And so what if he was? Stubbornness had kept him alive countless times. His particular brand of stubborn had been considered both adorable and inspiring in the past. Maybe he was being annoying, but so what? Was it why they wouldn’t listen to him? Did acting annoying really mean he was stripped of his worth to them, his autonomy?
After a long staring contest with Jack, Katherine huffed and rolled her eyes. “Boys,” she muttered, turning away from both of them. Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The lines of Katherine’s shoulders were sharp and tight, radiating tension that was echoed in Jack’s nervous stance.
Crutchie picked at the blanket. Why did every conversation seem to turn into a fight lately? He just wanted people to respect his choices. Heck, maybe he would take Spot up on that offer. It sounded nice to be around people who had no history with him, a fresh slate, a new standard to set. He would get to prove he was strong to them, instead of being cooped up because they were too afraid of how broken he was.
“Well,” Katherine said, straightening her shoulders and facing them again, “take off your shirt, then.”
Crutchie choked. So did Jack. “Uh, what?” Jack sputtered.
“Buy me dinner first,” Crutchie managed.
Katherine rolled her eyes. “You want to be back out there, don’t you?” she asked Crutchie. He nodded, a little scared of where this was going. “I need to make sure you’re healing well enough, if you won’t see a doctor. Then I’ll tell you when you can continue to sell newspapers. And Jack? Get us something to drink.”
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wolfcha1k · 3 years
Text
Fear Has No Sense, a Fanfic
"What if they're not what I expected?" Ratchet asked her, propping his fist on his chin, contemplating the question once again.
Rivet leaned back on her palms before casting him a little look. "Well, was I what you expected?"
Ratchet has some unfinished questions he needs to get off his chest, who better to understand than his other half of the rift?
Author's Note: Important note, only thing I know about this series is Rift Apart, so kept my horizons very small for this story. Just was a little plot bunny that was nagging me, so I spewed it out. I'm hoping its not too sappy or ends too abruptly, stuff like that, as well as the whole "plz sound like you guys are in character" thing. Lemme know what you think, I love feedback.
She found him sitting on top of his ship outside a good distance away, seeming lost in thought. There was a celebration to be had, it wasn't everyday you saved two worlds and many more in what felt like a few short days. It'd been suspicious when Ratchet had wandered off, passed the fan fair and practically evaporated from the scene. She thought him to be a guy who loved a good party.
If you had asked Rivet she would have thought he'd used that Dimensionator to scurry off somewhere. 
But thankfully he hadn't, she was rather done with dimension chasing for a while. Now she just wanted to relax and digest the peace she never thought she could have ever lived to see. It'd cost her an arm quite literally but within her bones she knew she would sacrifice it again to know the world was safe.
She put a hand on her hip, hesitant on interrupting what seemed to be a private moment. Music played muffled behind them from the celebration being had, far too peppy for the mood he seemed to be in. He didn't look sad persay, merely deep and lost in his thoughts, whatever they might be they were clearly making him chase his own tail in circles. 
Taking a courageous breath, she took the plunge into the metaphorical rip tide. "Hey!" 
His orange head turned to look at her, slowly blinking at her once the surprise wore off. "Oh, uh, hey." The moonlight made Rivet's fur burn silver.
"Yeah, uh, hi." Smooth, she told herself with a strained grin, waving a hand as she gestured at the space next to him. "Mind if I join you?"
"Sure, knock yourself out," Ratchet replied, shuffling away to make room. Rivet began to climb up, jumping onto the ship to sit down beside him.
Neither said anything, just exchanged a quick smile before glancing away to look at something else. She sometimes wondered how they could both have seamless and awkward conversations all at once. It wasn't like either of them were shy people, so what was it? They were pretty familiar with each other now too, unlike back at their first face to face introduction at Zurkie’s. 
Instead of lingering on the nagging thought and joining Ratchet in his wandering mind, she spoke. "Nice night, huh?"
"Yeah, it's great to look at the stars and not see time and space tearing apart for once," he mused, jokingly as he recalled their adventure. 
"Yeah, it's a major bummer when the dimensions collapsing on themselves ruins a good full moon," she joked back, smiling. 
"Ugh, tell me about it." He shuffled his weight to get more comfortable, drawing his knee up. "I'm not complaining about retirement again anytime soon. Meeting you and Kit was a nice compensation though."
"Are you saying that because you like my company or because I'm another Lombax?" She copied his casual posture a moment, tipping her head to the side coyly.
"Uh… both?" He scratched the fur at his neck absently, shrugging a shoulder. "I don't know, I think I'd still like you even if you were a three eyed frog."
She gave him a look, amused. "You would make for an odd three eyed frog since we gotta match and all, so good thing you and me are Lombaxes."
"Yeah, yeah," he scoffed, large ears flat as he suppressed a snort. "Either way… it's nice not being, yanno, alone."
"Alone is something I know all too well," she told him with empathy highlighting her face and words. Of course, her loneliness had been different from what she imagined his to be like. He gave her a sympathetic look, the starlight reflecting in his gaze. "I never thought I'd actually meet someone like me… uh you?” She made something of a comical face. “It’s a bit over–”
“It's a bit overwhelming, huh?” Ratchet grinned at her when he realized they’d jinxed each other yet again. He suppressed a chuckle best he could but it was all for naught. “I think I owe you a lot of sodas at this point, sorry.”
“I could use the sugar so I’ll take you up on that offer, it's fine,” she joked, rolling her eyes with a huff. “Anyway, It’s been an adjustment period, yeah,” she replied with a sheepish look, grasping her palms together to distract herself. “My first impression wasn’t the most brilliant.”
“At least you knew how to say hi at all,” he teased her. “I didn’t peg you as the shy type.”
“Hey, neither did you!” She started in a firmer tone before it broke off into a more trickling voice. ”I don’t think I would have been able to break the ice if I didn’t have Clank,” she admitted, lifting her palm to scrub it down the back of her neck, embarrassed. 
Ratchet still looked at her with a mixture of amusement and fondness. “Am I really that scary?”
“Depends how you define scary,” Rivet replied, giving him something of a knowing look that suddenly made him uncomfortable. She decided now was as good a moment as any, curious of just why he was out here. “So… uh, I’m not the best at this but…”
He sighed, already knowing what was coming when his smile came back in a more somber fashion. “My head won’t shut up,” Ratchet told her, not bothering to deny anything.
“Well, there is a really smart mouth attached to it.”
“Har, har, har, you’re funny,” he quipped, nudging her with a childish huff and pout. “I know I promised our pit stop but–”
“Is this about the other Lombaxes?” She was never one to beat around the bush, always direct, somethings ruthlessly so. Her words weren’t spoken harshly though, a gentle inflection to the question.
“Ah, sorta?” Rivet arched a brow at him in a telltale manner that made him doubletake his answer, backpedaling. “Okay, maybe a lot sorta.”
“You wanna elaborate?” She encouraged him, cocking her head with a curious blink of her intelligent eyes.
There was a pause, Ratchet taking the moment to figure out what he wanted to say. Rivet was patient, shifting between focusing on the intense frown of his brows to the matching frown on his lips. He eventually took in a breath and faced her.
“What if they’re not what I expected?” He asked her, propping his fist on his chin, contemplating the question once again. His eyes looked at the starry expanse of sky, endlessly stretching farther than the mind could imagine.
She leaned back on the back of her palms before casting him a little look. “Well, was I what you expected?” The words were laced in good humor and she grinned once she saw his startled face.
He wasn’t expecting that, big eyes round as an owl before he gave a grin of his own. Rivet was relieved to see it there, melancholy didn’t do justice to his face. “No, actually, you weren’t.” The words were honest but hardly negative, some warmth tingling them.
“I’ll assume that’s a compliment,” she teased him, her robotic hand making contact with his arm in a playful punch of camaraderie. She was sitting up again, elbows on her knees as she continued to speak. “And before you ask…”
“Ask what?” He rubbed at the spot where she’d socked him, wondering if she had any idea how much strength she really had in that cyborg hand and arm of hers. She must be a champion arm wrestler. “I think you’re pretty solid too. Those other Lombax would be dumb to not see it,” Rivet assured him and this time it was him who bumped shoulders with her.
It was only the pressure against her shoulder she felt from the nerve endings pressed into the machine, she’d lost the ability to feel much else since losing that arm despite his warm arm brushing against her. It was strange but she was used to strange. She almost had a phantom sensation of his touch. 
“Thanks,” he chuckled before arching a brow playfully. “Are you reading minds now too?”
“If I’m you and you’re me, it’s a pretty obvious conclusion, right?” She challenged him, ears pricked forward.
“Man, that still makes my head hurt,” he exclaimed, pushing a palm against his forehead with a chuckle. 
He wondered if there was more to that besides being shadows of one another, recalling Mags' diary entries of how other Lombaxes had been cast out into different pockets of time and space. To say the least, his mind wasn't ready in the slightest to start going down that rabbit hole just yet. There would be plenty of down time now to do so later, the excitement of peril was done.
They filled the silence that followed with what felt like calm and peace a good friend brought, content in the lull of the conversation; it didn’t feel suffocating or awkward. 
Ratchet broke the quiet moment, his voice musing. “Yanno… for someone who’s been a real lone wolf, you sure know how to talk to people.”
“Hey, lone wolf doesn’t equal socially degenerate,” she quipped, shaking her head with a smile at him lifting a hand in mock defense. “Besides, I honestly get how you feel about… the whole scared of the Lombax thing.” She let her face become serious, brows furrowed as she rubbed her hands together. Ratchet could hear the purr in the motors of her robotic arm as it moved. “It wasn’t fair I threw that in your face back at Zurkie’s–”
Automatically he interrupted her, shaking his head and catching her gaze. “No, it’s alright. It wasn’t right of me to call you a coward either when you had your own fears.”
“Yeah but fear does nobody any good when it hurts people,” she told him, lifting her eyes to glance at her arm, seeing her reflection on the golden sleek metal. She turned back to him not long after, somehow feeling a sense of peace wash over her despite some of the jitters. “Guess fear just doesn’t make no sense sometimes, huh?” They shared a look, a somber smile on each other's faces.
“Yeah,” he agreed, sighing with something that almost sounded like a chuckle.
She took a moment to find what she should say next, knowing the conversation wasn’t going to end right there. A good friend did what she could to support each other, not snuff out their insecurities and ignore their needs. Her thoughts absently flew to Kit and Rivet didn’t want to make that mistake again. “Meeting you was honestly one of the most intimidating things I ever did, I can’t imagine adding to it an entire race of who knows how many more of us out there,” she confessed at last. "Fighting Emperor Nefarious was a cakewalk compared to that."
He studied her curiously, a bit surprised. Considering their argument prior to the conclusion of this whole mess, he hadn’t really expected her to have her own qualms about finding their kin. “You worry about what they might think of you too?”
“I mean, maybe a little,” Rivet started, trying to sound casual, being vulnerable wasn’t her strong suit but she was going to try her hardest. Breathing a sigh, she found her words again that were heavy on her tongue, relaxing the tension that had suddenly found itself coiled down her spine. “Well, I don’t anymore, least not like I did before we met,” she replied, meeting his eyes, mischief twinkling like a star. “You like me well enough, right?”
“You seriously need to ask me that?” He rested his elbow on his knee that was curled up close to his chest, the other leg comfortably laying under his relaxed slouch. 
“That answers that,” Rivet said, sighing extravagantly in good humor before taking on a more serious tone. “Anyway, if one Lombax thinks I’m good enough, then that must mean others will think of me that way too. If not, well, then I got just the one and your approval is plenty for me.”
He smiled at her. “You think that highly of me? I’m touched.”
“Yeah, I do, and I’m not saying that because you’re the only other Lombax I know,” she told him, returning his smile with one of her own.
Ratchet seemed to consider his words, quiet for only a moment before he said anything. “Hey, Rivet?”
“Yeah, Ratchet?” “Thanks, for tonight, I mean. It helps,” he told her, appreciative as he met her eyes. “Kit and me dished some talk but guess I hadn’t gotten it all out, too much mayhem at the time.”
“It’s what friends are for, right?”
“Right,” Ratchet said, nodding his head.
They fell into a short silence, just looking at each other before Rivet decided to speak. "So… think you're finally ready for that little pit stop soon you promised me?" She arched a brow at him, a challenge he met with a toothy smirk teetering on a grin.
"I've been ready." He reached a hand out to her, bicep raised as Rivet met him halfway, robotic palm pressed into the glove of his as they met in a firm clap. 
She squeezed his hand, mindful to not crush it with their arms pressed together from the grip. "That's what I like to hear."
"Good, because you'll be hearing a lot more from where that's coming, Rivet."
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obutsuwrites · 4 years
Text
work friends (miruko x reader, part 2)
summary: basically, miruko convinces reader to meet at the mall. possessive behavior and fingering ensue. 
warnings: light dom/sub, thigh riding, face-sitting, vaginal fingering, mommy kink
part one
my ao3 for more shitposts
my ko-fi~!
word count: 3,729
A high-pitched chirp pierced the woman’s dreamless sleep. Setting such a deafening ringtone was supposed to be an advantage. Hot stories don’t stop once night falls, an unfortunate truth the woman had already learned. The woman rolled over; tired hands latching onto her phone.
「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:45 am
ur laugh was almost cute 🤪
Speak of the devil, and she will appear.
Air caught in her throat, somehow worse than a punch in the gut. Crimson eyes burned in the woman’s mind. Cherry pits she couldn’t ignore. She exhaled. The act was almost orgasmic as greedy lungs resumed function.
What… what do I say? Naturally, words came to the woman like magic. A gift she attributed to countless All Might articles. All Might. His name felt heavy somehow now. The woman sighed and typed a short response.
「XXX」 | 12:47 am
This is Miruko, right?
Three dots appeared as half lidded eyes struggled to maintain focus. What does this stupid bunny want this late? Her mind felt fuzzy, as if she hadn’t slept at all. Exhaustion was rooted in her bones; a slow ache.
「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:48 am
wats ur addy
Of course. Wait. Is… is she trying to hook up? A lump of disgust and anxiety swelled within her stomach. Casual sex wasn’t foreign to the woman. It was a concept she celebrated, but the image of hungry, crimson eyes plagued her. Carnivorous orbs that threatened to eat her alive.
「XXX」 | 12:49 am
You woke me up. It’s *midnight*. I can interview you tomorrow.
This was a bargaining chip. Perhaps ignorance would save her. Or maybe I’m committing career suicide, she mused. Rumors and whispers of reporters doing “favors” for interviews wasn’t unheard of. Morality wasn’t a concern for the perfect article.
The woman stared intently at her phone, eyes bleary and heavy. Dread mounted in her stomach as minutes passed. The woman rubbed her eyes. Maybe she’s asleep already. The thought brought her comfort as sleep dusted over her. Fatigue had won.
A hearty exhale left the woman as throbbing muscles stretched against morning light. Another dreamless sleep with a side of awkward sleeping positions. Nothing out of the ordinary for her. She layed in bed, determined to absorb the early sunlight. Eventually, the woman rolled over and began to check emails. Ignorance was a blessing. The woman’s phone vibrated in her hand, the motion jarring and obnoxious. Right. The rabbit.  
「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 - INCOMING CALL
Red eyes flashed through her mind. Soft hands trembled, knuckles white and taunt. Her finger hovered over the answer button. The notification was imposing; a beast that dwarfed her. An electrical wave crept through the woman’s spine. Anxiety now rooted in her stomach.
“H-hello?”
The pro hero snickered. “Finally ya answer, kit. Think you owe me your name for the wait.” She could almost feel Miruko’s hot breath through the phone. A sweltering gust that starved the room of oxygen.
The woman swallowed, saliva thick and tongue bulky. She muttered her name like a prayer.
“Cute name, kit. You never replied to my text. Still game?” Miruko’s voice cut into the word kit, as if it were an insult. Belittling.
She shifted in bed, words unable to become tangible. Prey caught in the powerful jaws of a predator. Shivers continued to assault the woman as she opened Miruko’s text.
「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:55 am
watever. meet me @ hiro mall.
Hiro Mall. Hiro Mall! She giggled; the sound unnatural and falsetto. A laugh she hated. Hiro Mall was thirty minutes away via car, but… I don’t own a car. No reliable transportation!
“I don’t live near Hiro Mall. S-sorry, can’t do it.”
Miruko’s thin lips pulled a mischievous grin. “Don’t apologize, it’s annoying like that laugh. I’ll pick you up,” the Rabbit Hero insisted, tone assertive and deep. Like rich chocolate.
A sour expression spread through the woman’s features, panic in her veins. An icy chill ran into her skull. The beginnings of a migraine.
“N-no it’s fine. You’re probably too far away.” She glanced around, desperate to escape the call. “We can arrange an interview later in the week.” A mall is too unprofessional anyway.
“C’mon. I gotta scoop for you, little kit.” Miruko sounded almost eager. A tight edge to her voice.
Another laugh left the reporter as she spoke, “Listen, M-Mi-Miruko… I appreciate this offer I really do. I just can’t today. I have -- I have other arrangements today.”
The Rabbit Hero released a hearty chuckle. Playing hard to get, huh?
“Can’t clear your schedule for an interview with the number seven pro hero Miruko?” She teased.
She feigned a smile. “I did agree, didn’t I? O-okay. I’ll text you my address.” There was no escape from the rabbit. Coils of anxiety refused to unravel within her gut. Painful, hot bundles that tore into her.
“Good kit.” A click followed the rabbit’s voice. The woman released a pent-up whine.
Are all pro heroes this rude?  
“I like your hat,” the woman mused, her sentence punctuated by a gentle chuckle. Miruko’s ears twitched at the sound.
Pro hero Miruko stood before her in casual attire; denim shorts, a plain t-shirt, and a brown baseball cap. It felt almost wrong to see the number seventh hero like this. Vulnerable. Human.
“That laugh was cute. Why don’t you laugh like that?” The ghost of a smirk rested against Miruko’s lips. Blush for me, kit.
A yell echoed through the mall before the woman could reply, “Hey! It’s Miruko! Miruko, can I get an autograph?!” Like magic, a young boy appeared in front of the couple, his smile was sunlight. Too bright to ignore. Pen and paper in tiny hands.
Crimson eyes observed the child with anticipation. She was not a rabbit, but a peacock. A peacock that revelved in attention.
“Sure!”
Miruko bent down and lightly grabbed the parchment from the boy; signing an indecipherable signature. The action seemed too gentle for the carnivorous woman. She’s creepy when she’s nice, the reporter thought as a shiver crawled down her skeleton. Like a dull ache in her bones.
The boy’s face broke out in a boyish grin; a smile too big for his face. Curious orbs drifted from the mythical hero and stuck to the unfamiliar figure beside the rabbit.
“Hey… are you a hero too? Are -- are you Miruko’s friend?” the boy prodded, his voice soaked in excitement and stars in his eyes.
The woman awkwardly shuffled and inspected her shoes. A pit began to widen in her stomach. The feeling left her empty and anxious. Starving. “Sorta. Work friends.”
“What’s it -- “
Before the child could ask, Miruko interjected. The woman’s tone was hard and rough, like sandpaper. “Sorry kid. We gotta bounce.”
Calloused hands reached for the reporter, finding purchase around her waist. A quiet yelp was exhaled from the woman; the sound sharp and sudden. Maroon rage bubbled under Miruko’s intense gaze as she ushered the woman away.
“Friends?” Miruko hissed, a dangerous glint in her eyes. The woman felt like injured prey, ready for the slaughter. “We’re not friends and you fucking know it.” Snowy ears twitched in annoyance. Little kit doesn’t know her place. The thought was venomous and ravenous; a lion starved and wild.
Her hand burns.
"Miruko… Are we not friends?" Curious eyes locked onto the rabbit. Begging for Miruko's attention. Was a pro hero a liar? Her brain felt branded by the question. Burnt. Ruined.
Large hands released the woman. Strong arms encased the woman; like a dragon hoarding gold. A wolf with teeth trained on a young doe. Poised, prepared. Miruko's heart threatened to leap from her chest, the sound like thunder. The woman couldn't ignore the roar against her.
The hero swallowed. "I want you to call me Usagi. No, Usagi. It'd sound cuter coming from you." Miruko grinned, lips too tight and teeth too sharp.
"Usagi, let me go. This is too intimate," the woman stated plainly. The situation was too familiar. Too similar to last night.
"You like my hat?"
Gross hot carrot breath.
Silver strands hung over muscular shoulders as a confident voice tickled the woman's ear.
"I'll try some on for you, because it's you!" Stars danced in Miruko's eyes. Crimson orbs now enveloped in joy.
The couple sat on a bench, both parties tired from a day of giggles and coy smiles. Hidden signs of affection between the two. A genuine laugh from the woman made Miruko’s ears twitch in excitement. It was the same feeling she experienced before; the hero’s stomach was in knots. A hot, tangled mess that stung.
Miruko watched as the reporter gingerly checked her emails. She demanded a detour to rest and get her bearings. Miruko peered over her shoulder, unaware of the anxiety that began to bubble in the woman’s throat. Like mucus stuck in her nose. Thick and suffocating.
The woman turned to her, lips tugged into a curt grin. Too formal, too polite.
“I was thinking,” she began; still enamored by work, “you promised me an interview. We can grab lunch and I can pick your brain.” Finally, I’ll get my story. The woman vibrated with elation. It was a buzz that warmed her down into her bones. Her dreams were within reach; so many opportunities.
Miruko’s calloused palm slid across the woman’s thighs, creeping along as if to memorize the supple flesh. The rabbit wanted to bury herself between them. Pillowy thighs that touched deserved to be worshipped.
She caressed the woman’s thigh as she spoke, “Don’t live too far from here… You like your coffee black?” The hero’s casual attitude left a horrible taste in her mouth. A bitter, rotten taste. Miruko’s hand was scorching against her thigh, a juxtaposition to her clammy skin.
“No, tea. I know… I know of a cafe not far from here.” Words were impossible again. Intangible things. The woman’s sentence was punctuated with a shrill chuckle, another sign of internal concern. A part of her dreaded being alone -- in a private space -- with the hero. Famished eyes still regarded her as prey. Oval cherries.
“Got tea, too. I think you’re just scared. I don’t bite!” Much, Miruko thought, playful lips stretched into a lop-sided grin. She was desperate to taste the woman, to spread her apart and worship. Miruko kneaded the doughly flesh underneath her, as she waited for a response.
Finally, the woman looked away; too ashamed to face the rabbit.
“O-okay.”
Miruko’s apartment was unexpected. It was plain -- almost unbelievable to imagine a hero living here -- much less the number seventh hero. The only noteworthy addition were flowers, as if the room had exploded in a bomb of flora and perfume. They looked out of place with morning dew still fresh on vibrant petals. Was she anticipating this? Hints of flowers assaulted the woman’s nose; the smell was nauseating.
“I redecorated!” Miruko blurted out, a move uncharacteristic for the headstrong woman. She felt exposed like this. The object of her desires was so close -- and yet the rabbit had to be vulnerable. It wasn’t uncommon for Miruko to bring a woman home, but a sea of flowers wasn’t her normal. She was inexperienced in...  this. The hero’s heart began to tremble again, the sound booming, leaving her breathless.
The woman only nodded, as if aware of the lie. “Flowers are pretty, aren’t they? I suppose we can start with the first question; Miruko… you don’t have a scoop for me, d-do you?” Her voice faltered as the woman lost her conviction. Plush lips quivered, afraid of the answer.
Her lips look so soft. Without thinking, a tanned finger brushed against the woman’s lips. Miruko quickly withdrew her hand. A muted pink dusted her cheeks, like a child caught. The hero’s snowy ears burned with embarrassment.
“Do it again.”
“What?” Miruko asked, hungry eyes wide. Saliva pooled in her mouth. A predator drooling over wounded prey.
“D-do it a-again.” The woman’s tone was pleading, in need of attention.
My attention, Miruko thought as she swiped a thumb across delicate lips. The flesh reminded the rabbit of her thighs. A familiar heat began to pool in the bottom of her stomach. The rabbit inched closer; the woman’s chin cradled in her palm, thumb still caressing her lips like ritual. Touching the woman was electric. A shock that left Miruko in a daze of want.
Hot breath tickled the woman’s nose as Miruko spoke, “I’m going to kiss you.” Chapped lips collided against the woman. The kiss was forceful and hungry. A lion finally ravishing a meal. Miruko continued to lean into her, as if trying to establish dominance. Gentle hands rested against the rabbit’s toned chest. Miruko tasted like carrots and mint. An obvious attempt to hide the vegetable. The weight of Miruko caused the woman to stumble, and the pair landed awkwardly on the carpeted floor. Miruko landed on top of the woman, hard muscles pressed against delicate flesh.
“Sorry, kit. Guess I got a little too excited. Are you okay?” Miruko’s tone was laced with worry. The genuine concern was new to the woman. Humanizing. Patches of red decorated the woman’s cheeks and her heart pounded against her ribcage like a drum. The sound was deafening.
Red orbs watched with interest and long strands of silver hair settled across small shoulders. Her hair tickled. The woman tried to stifle a chuckle and nodded, even now her soft frame was dwarfed by the hero.
Abruptly, Miruko kissed her again, grinding wide hips into the woman. The rabbit’s hands transversed the woman’s body, starving for her touch. Calloused palms cupped large breasts and massaged. Miruko’s touch wasn’t gentle like a lover’s, but rough and greedy. An involuntary moan slipped from the woman, who was now unable to keep composure. The hero took advantage; seeing the moment of weakness as an opportunity, and jammed a wet tongue into her mouth. Miruko’s hot tongue explored the damp chasm. She wanted to commit every part of the woman to memory.
The rabbit pulled away, the act only to allow her companion fresh air. Lungs gasped for air. Hungry and starved. Before she could force in another lungful, Miruko pressed further against her, and roughly grabbed tiny wrists. The woman was puzzled by the action until she felt the warm presence of Miruko’s finger hooked around her waistband. Miruko licked her lips in anticipation as drool threatened to leak out.
Crimson orbs locked onto the woman, as if to ask permission.
“Please,” she begged. Her voice was small and quiet. Too ashamed to admit the burning ache that settled into her core. The need for Miruko hurt. The woman was racked with impatience. She wanted needed the hero’s greedy fingers in between her.
A thunderous laugh vibrated from Miruko as she discarded the woman's undergarments. “You’re so cute. Submissive and begging for Miruko the hero.” The rabbit shoved a thick finger in between large thighs -- thighs Miruko wanted to dig into. Miruko’s finger curled inside the woman’s craving, wet core. Vicious teeth were bared in a smirk; she could just eat the woman. Devore her whole. On instinct, Miruko’s mouth latched onto the woman’s neck. Her pulse was rapid against the hero’s tongue as Miruko began to suck upon the supple flesh. Erotic sounds of pleasure escaped the woman. Her face was flustered and on fire, a sweltering heat that ravaged her.
Determined fingers pumped into the woman’s slickness. She lifted her hips into Miruko, franic for the hero. Her stomach twisted as shivers shot through her spine.
“Tell Mirko the hero how needy you are. Beg for me.”
"U-Usagi --"
"Miruko," the hero corrected, her sentence punctuated by a second finger. The sudden intruder caused the woman to gasp. Such a cute noise! Miruko curled the second finger and pumped both digits in rhythm. The woman continued to lift her hips, greedy for Miruko's touch.
A low whimper drifted from the woman, "Mi-Miruko, please, please, please … Kiss me. Claim me." She shrunk under the rabbit's gaze. The heat across her cheeks felt permanent. The woman quickly turned away, too embarrassed to allow Miruko a peek.
Miruko grabbed her hips and shoved the soaking woman against her. A small puddle began to pool against the rabbit's shorts. The woman -- too enthralled by Miruko's fingers -- was blissfully unaware of her mess. Delicate wrists were released as sturdy hands palmed the wet spot.
"Look at what you did, kit," Miruko said, placing the woman's hand against the puddle. Gentle orbs locked onto the mess; her cheeks now a vibrant red. Like poppies on her cheeks. She quickly withdrew her hand; as if the puddle was fire.
The woman's voice was muffled and hushed. "I’m s-sorry…” she mumbled, her face hidden by trembling hands. Embarrassment was segmented back into her reality; the woman left too conscious of Miruko’s gaze. It was uncommon for strangers to see the woman so… exposed. Even past lovers weren’t afforded the treat.
“You’re just leaking for me. So fucking wet for Miruko.” She wiped a finger across the mess and used another hand to free the woman’s sight. “I want you to watch.” Miruko’s sentence was entwined with lust. An insatiable need. The rabbit brought her juice stained finger to her mouth and sucked, cannibalistic red eyes locked on the woman. Her pink tongue swirled around the digit. A line of saliva connected the rabbit’s finger as she slowly dragged the apendenge from her mouth. After teasing the woman, Miruko shoved the spit covered digit into the woman. Her cunt now ached with three thick fingers. It felt like too much; her core stretched around Miruko.
The hero didn’t continue to finger fuck the woman. Like a predator playing with injured prey. Enjoying her meal.
Pleading eyes bore into Miruko as she pulled her soaked fingers from the woman. Lips held a dirty smirk. “Rub your clit against my thighs, mommy wants to feel your cunt.” The woman winced at the word. It sounded so dirty, so inappropriate… and yet she shivered at the hero’s words. Desperate for relief, desperate for stimulation; the woman began to rub her slickness against the hero’s exposed thigh. Her face almost sizzled with a crimson blush. She felt the heat up to her ears. Molten lava.
The woman was unable to face Miruko’s starving eyes. Cherries that wanted to rip and tear into her. Muffled sobs racked the woman; the sensations of embarrassment and pleasure blended together in a blur of pathetic arousal. Her body betrayed her as she grinded harder into Miruko’s thigh, the stimulation proving not enough for her swollen clit. The woman could feel the hot blood that pulsed through her core.
“Mi-Miruko, f-fuck me,” she begged.
“Look at you, kit, using such dirty words. You call this begging? This is pathetic. Tell Miruko how much of a slut you are.” Her tone was aggressive, as if the woman’s pathetic nature was an offense.
She swallowed, her mouth devoid of spit as she sobbed, “Please, Miruko! I’m such a slut; I need your fingers! Please, please, please.” The woman’s sentence was chanted, almost like a mantra. A perverted prayer.
Sharp teeth clashed against the woman’s ear. “Sit on my face. Wanna fuckin’ drown in you.” Miruko’s voice was no higher than a whisper. Like a secret between friends. Without hesitation, the woman nodded and stood up as Miruko positioned herself between pillowy thighs. The rabbit’s mouth salivated in anticipation. I’m going to fucking devour you.
The woman slowly lowered herself onto the hero, afraid of injuring her. She wasn’t small and fit like Miruko. She was big and jiggly. Like jello. A body Miruko wanted to grab fistfulls of as she fucked her into a mattress; letting the woman know how beautiful she was. Her aching, wet cunt finally made contact with Miruko’s pink tongue. Sandwiched between gigantic thighs, Miruko began to run her tongue down the woman’s folds. The woman released a lustful moan. She clamped a hand to her shy mouth as Miruko’s tongue slipped into her. She yelped at the sudden action. Miruko snickered underneath the woman, her sounds were like calls from heaven. Honey that coated her ears in a thick sweetness.
She worked at the woman’s mound, only encouraged by her lewd sounds. The woman could no longer muffle her moans; her body stuck in a sea of shivers. Her tongue -- her tongue felt so fucking good. Wide hips grinded into Miruko, hungry to have her tongue deeper within. Two thick fingers plunged into her hole, replacing Miruko’s tongue. The rabbit’s digits slapped into the woman’s drenched thighs. Her tongue wandered up to a swollen, red clit. She took the bud into her mouth and swirled the blood filled nub.
“F-fuck…” A long moan punctuated her sentence as Miruko began to suck on her clit; her fingers scissoring within her, stretching her. The woman’s greedy walls contracted around Miruko. The woman’s large chest heaved as breathing seemed impossible. Hot, short breaths mixed with wails of ecstasy. Miruko continued to suck on the woman’s clit, treating her puffy nub like a treat. Her tanned face now slick with the woman’s juices. The room was filled with the sloppy sounds of the woman’s cunt and her moans. Miruko’s ears couldn’t help but rapidly twitch, the rabbit almost too excited.
“Stop… stop, I’ll cum!” The woman whined, her voice lecherous and heavy. Like a fog. Her confirmation caused Miruko’s fingers to ramp up in speed, fingers now curled inside. An audible pop sounded as Miruko released the woman’s puffy nub. The rabbit’s sharp teeth grazed the sensitive flesh. She alternated between sucking and nibbling the woman’s clit. The woman felt an uncomfortable tremble crawl through her stomach, settling at the bottom. Her body begged for release.
A string of profanities erupted from the woman as she came, juices squirting down Miruko’s chin. The hero licked her lips, still hungry. With her moment of bliss gone, and her body weak, the woman gingerly stood up. Her ears and face were a bright pink; like cotton candy.
Miruko gazed at the woman, a lop-sided smirk ghosting her face. “You got me drenched in your pussy. C’here and clean it up, kit.”
254 notes · View notes
senacal · 4 years
Note
Hi! Can u please write Erik Lehnsherr x FemReader where there’s a dance and reader thinks he’ll ask Raven but instead he asks reader to go with him to the dance? Thank you!
A Dance for Two
Request: Requested by anon
Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x FemReader
Prompt:  Hi! Can you please write Erik Lehnsherr x FemReader where there will be a dance and reader thinks he’ll ask Raven but instead he asks the reader to go with him to the dance? Thank you!
Warnings: Fluff with slight angst, cursing
Author’s Note: Hello lovely anon, I hope you enjoy this Xx.
Requests are open! 
(Gif not mine)
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The halls of the X-Mansion were bustling with mutants and humans alike. The mutants were going about their business, trying to get to class while the humans were trying to decorate the entire place. Currently (Y/N) was standing out of the way of everyone just observing everyone passing by. There was no way she was about to insert herself into the chaos just yet.
Recently Charles Xavier had announced that there would be a ball in order to raise funds and awareness for Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. Ever since mutants have been brought into the light, more and more students were coming in with different forms of powers. If it weren’t for (Y/N), Erik, and Raven, Charles was sure to be overwhelmed with everything. It was only after Erik’s attempted assassination on the U.S. president that he realized what a mistake he had made. In order to get Erik to contain his anger and hatred for humans, Charles had convinced him to stay after his previous attempts. Charles liked to tease (Y/N) and say that if it weren’t for her, Erik would have refused yet again.
Unfortunately, (Y/N) never believed Charles and rebutted his teasing by insisting it was only because Erik had nearly hurt Raven. It only made sense after everything Raven and Erik had gone through together. (Y/N) was almost positive that Erik’s feelings ran deep for the other mutant, so to spare her own feelings, she suppressed any and all thoughts of her and Erik ever getting together. She’d never tell Charles, though she suspected that he already knew what with him being a mind reader and all. (Y/N) knew Charles wouldn’t read her mind unless it was absolutely necessary, she trusted him enough, but sometimes she felt as though her feelings for Erik were strong enough that Charles didn’t have to read her mind in order to find out how she felt.
“(Y/N) It’s nearly time for class, your students are waiting for you.” Charles’s voice echoed in her mind. 
“Speak of the devil,” (Y/N) muttered to herself.
“Aw, were you thinking about me, love?” (Y/N) could clearly hear the teasing tone in his voice, it was almost as if he were right next to her.
“In your dreams, Charles,” (Y/N) nearly rolled her eyes at his insistent teasing. Despite the conversation going on in her mind, she made her way to her class. He had a point, she couldn’t keep her kids waiting, she had some interesting stories to share with the kids today and it nearly made her giddy.
“Oh, I think you’ve mistaken me with someone else. Like Erik, perhaps?”
“Fuck off Charles,” She snapped. His constant teasing was almost enough to take her out of the good mood she was in, almost.
“Sorry everybody, I wish I could say I have an excuse for being late, but sadly that isn’t true. You’d think I’d have frozen time in order to get ahead, but I save that for special occasions, like beating Professor Xavier and Professor Lehnsherr at games for instance.” She joked. 
Her lame attempt at a joke managed to score a few laughs out of the young mutants, “Anyway, let’s get started shall we?”
(Y/N) went through her lectures with grace, answering and asking the right questions when they arose, a few of the students even volunteered to read a few passages from the textbook, which was often very rare. Because of everyone’s participation, (Y/N) allowed the students some free time at the end of class. Many students took the opportunity to leave and spend their time outside, while a few stayed in their seats. 
“Professor (L/N), can I ask you something?” Scott Summers asked curiously. He was hanging out with Jean Grey in the front row.
“Of course, anything in particular?” (Y/N) asked curiously.
“Yeah, actually, it’s about the dance. Is everyone required to take a date? Cause the flyer said to bring a plus one.” Scott had already asked Jean to go with him and she had thankfully said yes, but they were talking and it seemed as though the professors may need dates too. It’d be interesting, to say the least, to find out which professor was going with who. 
“Oh, uh, that’s not necessarily a requirement, I think Professor Xavier was just getting ahead of himself,” (Y/N) brushed off, “If you’re not comfortable with taking someone, then it’s not mandatory. I think he only meant for you to go with someone to keep you from getting bored.” 
“Okay, so, who is Professor X going with?” Jean asked instantly.
“Oh, I think Moira MacTaggert. I’m sure you’ve all met her, right?” (Y/N) looked around for any confirmation, “If not, then this weekend you’ll get to.”
“What about Professor Lehnsherr? Or you?” Scott prodded. 
“Uh, I’m not sure, to be honest,” (Y/N) felt her heartbeat rapidly, could the students know about her fascination with Erik too? Shit, Jean was a mind reader too. (Y/N) glanced at the young student briefly, “That I know of, Professor Lehnsherr might take Professor Darkhölme. And I am going with,” (Y/N) looked around, “Uh, Hank! I mean Professor Mccoy,” She lied not so smoothly. Thankfully the bell rang before anyone can ask any more questions. 
“So, you’re going to the ball with Hank?”
(Y/N) nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Erik’s voice. She hadn’t realized he was even standing there. 
“Fuck, you scared me, Erik,” (Y/N) ran her hand through her (H/C) hair. 
“Sorry, I knocked before I walked in,” He shrugged, “So Mccoy? Really?”
“What?” (Y/N) furrowed her brows, “What about him?”
Erik laughed slightly, “You said Hank was going to the dance with you.”
“Oh! Right, no I didn’t wanna sound like a complete loner to the kids so I lied, sorta,” She shrugged. This was probably the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to her thus far.
“You could have said I was taking you,” Erik shrugged, “Just a thought.”
“Yeah, next time,” (Y/N) laughed nervously.
“Speaking of the dance-”
“Sorry, Erik, I uh, I’ve got to… Pee! I’ll be right back,” (Y/N) brushed past him and marched to the nearest restroom. She wasn’t about to stand there and let Erik tell her that he was going to ask Raven or that he had already asked her, she wasn’t a masochist after all. 
“I’ll just wait here then,” Erik mumbled to himself once she bolted out.
(Y/N) leaned against the bathroom door and sighed. She was going to have to get a hold on herself. She couldn’t keep dodging Erik every time he brought up the dance, they were friends after all.  She’d just have to ignore her pride and accept the fact that Erik didn’t like her the way she liked him. No big deal.
(Y/N) composed herself and made her way to the kitchen. It was nearly lunchtime now and she was starving, she just hoped there was a snack or something available. 
“Hey, (Y/N)!” Raven shouted when she saw her from across the hall.
(Y/N) looked up and smiled slightly. She tried to keep things civil, it wasn’t Raven’s fault Erik liked her and not (Y/N).
Raven stopped right next to her with a bright smile, “You ready for the dance this weekend?”
“Yeah, you bet,” (Y/N) lied.
“I can’t wait either, I only ever got to go to parties as my “normal” self before but this time I can just be me,” Raven grinned.
“Well, you’re beautiful so it only makes sense to go as you are,” (Y/N) shrugged.
“Thank you, you are too. I can’t wait to see what you’re going to wear. Charles said to make it formal so it should be interesting to see everyone in a tux and dress.” Raven looked off as if she were imagining just that.
“Yeah, it should be interesting,” (Y/N) agreed.
“Were you headed to the kitchen?” Raven asked suddenly.
“Yeah, I was. I got kinda hungry so I was going to grab a snack or something.” (Y/N) turned to leave.
“I’ll go with you,” Raven decided. She walked right next to (Y/N) without any notice to her discomfort. Raven was the best, really. She was funny, beautiful, badass, and well, (Y/N) could see why Erik liked her. It just really fucking sucked is all. 
“So, have you talked to Erik?” Raven wondered.
“Kinda? He stopped by my classroom earlier but I uh, I needed to use the restroom,” (Y/N) really hoped this would be the end of this uncomfortable conversation.
“Oh, well, he really wanted to talk to you so I’ll let him know we’re in the kitchen then,” Raven pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted, (Y/N) assumed, Erik.
“Right, I guess I’ll wait here with you then,” (Y/N) mumbled. This had to be a nightmare right? This wasn’t really happening, right?
(Y/N) grabbed a jello cup from the fridge and a spoon. She jumped onto the counter and started eating her snack. Maybe if she froze time she would be able to escape without any notice. But then they would know what she had done, so it wasn’t really the best option. But still, it was an option. 
“There you are (Y/N), I was wondering where you had run off to,” Erik smiled and leaned against the counter right next to you.
“Uh, yeah, sorry I got kinda hungry,” She shrugged.
“I was waiting in your classroom,” Erik mentioned casually.
“Oh, shit, sorry I uh,” (Y/N) wasn’t sure what to say. Why would he wait for her? Why couldn’t he just show up to the dance with Raven and leave (Y/N) alone?
“It’s okay, anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Erik glanced at Raven, who was pretending to mind her own business but was failing miserably, “You know, you’re not as subtle as you think you are,” He huffed in annoyance.
“Fine, fine, I’m leaving,” Raven stomped off.
“Erik?” (Y/N) set her empty jello cup aside, “you wanted to ask me something?”
“Right! Yes, I did, I do,” Erik bit his lip and shifted nervously.
“Well?” (Y/N) asked impatiently. She didn’t want to sit there while he told her he asked Raven to the dance and if she could help him with something to woo her or something.
“Sorry, I was wondering if you might want to go with me to the dance?” He spoke quickly.
Wait, what? “Wait, what?” (Y/N) asked surprised.
“Will you go with me to the dance?” Erik asked, meeting (Y/N)’s eyes.
“I- what about Raven?” She asked confused. Why would he ask her out and not Raven? Was this a pity date? Is that why Raven was okay with it?
“What about Raven?” Erik asked just as confused as (Y/N). What did Raven have to do with their date?
“I mean, why are you asking me and not Raven?” (Y/N) asked getting frustrated with Erik.
“Because I don’t like Raven, I like you” Erik laughed joyously. He had thought it was pretty obvious. He always dropped everything he was doing to help (Y/N). He made stupid jokes just to hear her laugh, he always tried his best to show off his powers whenever they were teamed together. Their most successful training session was when he showed her how he could lift their jet plane. 
(Y/N) sat in disbelief. Erik liked her? How had she not realized before? She thought back to all the times Charles would tease her, she assumed he was teasing her, but come to think about it, Erik was always the one who got flustered and angry. (Y/N) assumed it was because he really didn’t like her, but it turns out the complete opposite was the truth.
“You really like me?” (Y/N) asked softly.
“I do,” Erik agreed, “So, would you want to accompany me to the dance?”
(Y/N) nodded almost too eagerly, “Yes, I would love to!” She grinned.
Erik smiled and stepped between her legs, “can I kiss you? Or is that pushing my luck?”
(Y/N)’s cheeks flushed, her breath hitching, “No, it’s not pushing your luck.”
Erik leaned forward, looking from her eyes to her lips, “good,” He pressed his lips to hers in a gentle passionate kiss.
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