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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part two)

This is part two! Here is part one. I lied, there is a bit of smut! Oopsie daisy. Inspired by @moonmark98 ‘s story idea of reader trying to forget Alastor and failing. I hadn’t planned a second part initially so I hope you like it 🥺

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

You return to earth and spend a year trying to crawl out from under the memory of Alastor. When an employee tells you a terrible past trauma, you end up right back where you started.

minors DNI

“Ooh my, this is highly unusual. Charlie is right, you really shouldn’t be here.” Stolas fretted over you. “Uuunfortunately I don’t have my book at this particular moment however I can just snag it from Blitzy and be back soon.”

“What’s a blitzy?” Angel looked around the room to no one in particular.

“What isn’t he?” Stolas cooed.

“Wait a minute!” Husk snapped his fingers, “Is that the imp who burned down loo loo land?”

“The very one!”

“He also takes hits out on people on earth, doesn’t he?” Husk gave Stolas a sideways look. Alastor hummed in acknowledgment.

“Ah haha yes” Nervously chuckling, Stolas scratched at the feathers behind his neck, “Anywho! I’ll return shortly and get you back where you belong, little one.” He flashed his kind smile to you before bowing to Charlie and portaling out of the room.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Charlie sat beside you on the edge of the bed. You’d been escorted immediately to an empty room upon arrival, sat down while the core staff of the hotel flitted about wildly upon hearing Angel’s recounting of events.

“You smell dirty”, the tiny maid cackled and ran to you before being lifted by her apron by Husk.

“That is a”, you rubbed your wrists nervously, “complicated question…”

“There’s nowhere safer in all of hell than this room. With Vaggie and me and Alastor”, Charlie brought her hands to her mouth, “or— not Alas- I mean” She looked at Vaggie, “What do I mean??”

“Nothing and no one will lay a finger on you here.” Vaggie was staring at Alastor when she said it.

“I don’t think its fingers anyone’s worried about”, Angel shifted his gaze from Alastor to you and back.

Alastor turned his head slowly to meet Angel’s eyes, “Did you say something, Angel Dust?”

He shook his head and quickly left, Niffty and Husk in tow.

“I think you should leave, too.” Vaggie crossed her arms.

Alastor replied by taking a step closer to you, gesturing with his microphone, “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. She is safe and sound, barely a bruise on her.” He looked over you, the side of your face still slightly pink from the way you hit the ground hardly an hour ago. He could hear your body sliding across the wooden cabin floor still, what a strangely exciting noise. What else could he drag you across? What surfaces could he slide your over? What noises would they make? What noises would you make?

“You took her fucking soul, Alastor. In a coerced deal!”

“If I remember correctly, that is exactly what I had been asked to do.” He grinned, taking his monocle off and cleaning it on his sleeve. Vaggie looked to Charlie, who shrunk from her horrified face. “Plus, she’s still alive. Who knows if the deal even counts. I’ve never made one with a living person.” With an exaggerated shrug, Alastor took a seat on the sofa opposite the bed, legs crossed. “Either way, she isn’t anywhere near Val anymore.” His eyes met yours, for the first time since…

You looked away. He wanted to grab your chin and force you to see him. He wanted to read what was written on your face. Shame? No…yes, but something more. Embarrassment. Confusion. Ah— You clenched your jaw, finally returning his stare. Anger. “Did I not do exactly what I had promised I would? What I had warned you I would?” Your lips curled over your teeth. “While yes, I hadn’t explicitly stated the number of times-“

“Stop talking! No, no. Enough of that.” Charlie waved her arms as if she could dissipate the very topic away, “Alastor could you please give me a moment alone with her?” She looked at him with big, worried eyes, “Please?”

Through gritted teeth Alastor acquiesced, “It is your hotel, Princess. I’ll be just outside the door.” The last sentence was for you, you could feel it like you could feel his shadow still ghosting over your legs.

As soon as the door shut, she closed the distance between you, looking to Vaggie who offered her a supportive nod.

“Seriously, are you hurt? Did he— Did he hurt you?”

Oh, you wish he had. That’d be easier to say. Easier to process. You wish he’d knocked you around like Val had done earlier. That left you indignant, enraged. But this — whatever this was — you couldn’t find purchase on a reaction. You didn’t even want to think the things bubbling under your consciousness.

“Just my pride. Uhh,” you shifted, your thighs and cunt sore to the touch, “He really did warn me. Got my okay, kind of. And he didn’t hurt me, except dragging me around and flipping me but-”, You noticed Charlie’s alarmed expression, “I’m physically fine.”

She nodded, her expression still oozing concern, “Well that’s good, then.”

“What… You both seem humanish, but what exactly are-“ You tipped your head in the direction of the door.

“Well I think Angel is some kind of spider…Husk, not entirely sure honestly”, Charlie looked up as if searching for a memory, “Alastor is a deer. It’s all tied to how people lived and died, I think.”

A deer? You shook your head, “Nothing about that man resembles a prey animal.”

“His death sure did.” Vaggie commented.

“So if I have some weird death I’ll end up here? If I drown… I’ll come back as a fish?” You were mostly thinking out loud, and hadn’t expected Charlie to nod in agreement.

“But don’t think about that! You might still go to heaven. Like Al said, he isn’t even sure the deal is binding.” She beamed and clapped her hands together.

It felt binding.

When that green light had erupted from beneath you, you thought you could feel him. Not the tentacles, or the memory of his hand. It felt like he was in the light itself, casting shadows on the ceiling in the shape of you. It felt alive, every ray of light a breathe washing over you.

You looked down at the robe, white and silky. Where were your clothes? Where was your fucking aunt? What about your phone? You had a car, too. Wait, no… did you drive to her house? Or did she…You hadn’t slept since being dragged to hell. Staring at the hem of the sleeve, you tried to focus your mind but suddenly you were wading in cognitive mud.

Shadows gathered near the foot of the bed before you saw Alastor rise out of the cluster. Charlie said something, Vaggie said something but sharper. It sounded far away already. Your body was beginning to feel heavy, an ache settling across your back and thighs.

“Perhaps you should lie down, my dear.” His voice cut through the murky waters of your thoughts. The bed sunk beside you as he pressed a hand down, the other lifting your chin to force eye contact. Vaggie made a loud noise, Charlie a smaller one, a longer one. Was it words? Were they speaking? Your lids were heavy over your eyes, Alastor’s face beginning to blur. His smile looked strained, eyebrows knitted together in an emotion almost recognized. Concern? His grin threw it off. You raised your eyebrows to try and open your eyes wider but the effect was minimal.

You heard yourself groan as an arm hooked under your knees, another catching your shoulders as you fell to the side. It felt like you were floating. Your legs came down slowly, you could feel the robe adjusting around your waist. Your head went back before comfortably straightening. A warmth spread down your neck, leaving goosebumps to runaway down your shoulder. It was dark now, and in the haze you heard from somewhere so close it felt like maybe you had thought it yourself, “In perpetuity, mon cher.”

You didn’t recognize the room at first, but when you finally managed to lift yourself out of bed you sighed. Home. You only knew it had been real because of the robe and busted lip. Well, mostly sure.

No one noticed you were gone, which wasn’t shocking. Working backwards, you could piece together you had gone to visit your aunt on Saturday morning. You awoke early Monday in your own bed some 60 miles from your aunt's home. Your car had been found abandoned off an old dirt road way outside of town.

You tried to get back to life, get to work. But you were clearly only half there.

Your aunt was found dead the following weekend, half submerged in a swamp just outside of Tampa. Her funeral was funny. Not “haha” funny, “Say hi to Val for me” kinda funny. When they lowered her into the ground you wondered what she looked like. What's the animal manifestation of a selfish, raging bitch? What’s the most untrustworthy home appliance?

Probably a gerbil, or a toaster.

You found yourself doing that a lot, What will they look like in the afterlife?

It took a good six months for you to stop sleeping in the robe. You couldn’t trash it, it was evidence you had been spirited away. It smelled like smoke and baby oil. Like Angel. It was soft on your skin, like—

Oh. It took less time for the dreams to calm down. Maybe a month of waking up in a cold sweat.

At first they were stressful. Val backhanding you. The feeling of leather chafing against your wrists. The cabin. The real one, not the set.

But then one night they weren’t stressful. You could remember the dream like it had really happened. A large hand cupping your cheek, another roaming past your hips before hooking under your knee. The warmth of a breath on your neck, on your navel. More hands. Everywhere. Your back, your ankle, your neck.

You woke up and the first feeling you felt was disappointment. It hit you like a truck.

The dreams slowly ramped up until some nights you awoke mid-orgasm. Never in your life had you experienced wet dreams; you didn’t even know women got them.

And it wasn’t always him—- well, not at first. You’d be kissing someone, a stranger or your ex or whoever. You’d have your hands in their hair, enjoying the feeling of their tongue sliding over yours. You’d be positively humming into their mouth. They’d pull you forward, lie you down, tugging your pants down your legs.

When they’d kiss up your arm and nestle into your neck they’d whisper hottily into your ear, “My doe.”

Sometimes you woke up, but many times you didn’t. Many times you grabbed his face and kissed him, letting him take control and direct you. You’d shrink beneath him, allowing him to use your body as he pleased. You’d surrender, you’d melt. He’d fuck you into the ground of god-knows-where, nails cutting into the flesh of your ass as he pulled you up to meet each punishing thrust. There were trees and starlight and you felt the humidity on your skin.

You’d always squirm away, try to escape the pleasure and he would find joy in pulling you back onto his cock. It felt like a game where you both already knew the outcome. “Going to cum, sweetheart?”, would be the last thing you heard before the real life spasms of your release stirred you awake.

The first man you took home after returning to earth was sweet. Gentle. Too gentle. You’d try to direct him, to let him know you wouldn’t break but he’d shy away from asserting dominance.

Other partners were more in charge, but it didn’t sit right. If you were going to allow someone control over you, you felt like they had to deserve it. You needed to respect them in some capacity.

You tried choking during sex, while it did heighten the pleasure their hand felt so small it broke your concentration. Bondage was fun, you got a rush from shibari, but all it did was inform your dreams.

You tried femdom, and while it was impowering it didn’t scratch that itch. You tried being a sub, but like before you found the people over you as unworthy of you. You didn’t think so highly of yourself, it’s just that autonomy was precious and these people were, well, just people. Mortals.

Your friends enjoyed your hoe era, self titled, but it was short lived. It had been eight months since you returned when you bought your first real sex toy, and took up hiking. It felt nice to be outdoors, and the days you spent in the forests seemed to make for nights of less intense dreams.

Your toy was, ashamedly, selected for its three points of contact. A pink little vibrator, big enough to need some work into you but not painful. The first time you used it you clung to your pillow, heart ballooning against your spiked blood pressure, and screamed a chorus of his name. The two points inside you vibrating in tandem with the small suction cup shape extending from the base doming your clit brought back delicious memories.

Every time, you felt embarrassed after. You could imagine him hearing you all the way in hell and chuckling at how pathetic you were. Satisfied at how empty you felt after.

It wasn’t just about the sex, you were never a very sexually needy person. You were chasing that feeling of surrender, of being both safe and out of control at the same time. The little bit of danger with the pleasure. But not, “local woman found dead in the woods” kind of danger. “Corrupt your soul and ruin your afterlife” kind of danger.

After a year of being earthside, life had finally calmed. Were you still fucked in your dreams? Yes, but a manageable once or so a month. Your toy was nice, but not necessary. A man, or anyone, hadn’t touched you in months. And that was alright. You felt almost normal, except the mornings you woke up hoping to see a pair of red eyes somewhere in the room.

You chalked it up to escapism.

Work had promoted you, twice, which helped distract you from boredom. While performing one of your monthly employee meetings, you met with a young man you’d recently hired. He was still in college, but he had a good head on his shoulders and made quick decisions. You were confident he’d be your equal within the year.

(Implied childhood trauma below the line; not graphic but it’s implied to have happened)

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

“Tired?” He asked you while you logged back into your computer.

You nodded, yawning into the back of your hand, “Spent most of Sunday at Shallow Ridge. Scoping out a good camping spot for when it warms up.”

“No shit, my dad hunts out there. Every Sunday, too.”

“I didn’t take you for the hunting type”, You blinked away the exhaustion and opened his employee file.

“Nah I’m not.” He shook his head, “He used to take me all the time when I was little.”

You nodded, not looking at him and only half listening, “Aww, sounds fun.”

He scoffed. You found the audio file of his graded phone calls, double clicking it. The file seemed corrupted.

“Not fun?” You absentmindedly asked.

You opened the program to manually find the call file. The silence began to creep over you until you felt your chest heavy under the weight of it.

You finally looked at him. The look in his eyes was distant, the color from his face was gone.

“Hey”, your tone changed, your subconscious recognizing something before you did.

He snapped back up, looking at you now. His smile didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t say anything, just pushed your chair from your desk and looked directly at him.

“What?” He averted his gaze.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? You’re not just a resource here. Hell, I see you more than my own flesh and blood.”

He nodded, and when he finally brought his eyes back to yours his composure cracked and tears fell down his cheeks in streams. “It’s fine” he forced a laugh, “It was like a million years ago.”

You took off the rest of the day, and after providing hugs and your own tears and information on company sponsored counseling and resources, you went home.

Well, first you went to the camping store. And then home. Your dreams that week were calm, as if they knew you couldn’t enjoy a romp in a field.

When Saturday night bled into Sunday morning, you drove your car to Shallow Ridge. You placed the keys on the front seat and left your phone under the seat itself.

You waited for four hours, but eventually a truck pulled up and the man you saw in various Facebook photos and tagged family Christmas cards made his way into the dense forest. You circled back on the trail, head dizzy.

You knew you couldn’t overpower him, but you weren’t trying to win. You just wanted to make him hurt. You’d met men like him before. You’d suffered men like him. Survived men like him. When you two crossed paths on the barely marked trail and you were a beat behind him, you stopped, took out the hunting knife you were told could cut bone, and brought it down into the crook of his neck with both hands.

He whipped around, shock and panic on his face as his hands came back from his shoulder bloody. When he scrambled for his gun you sliced at his chest, then again at his throat but it wasn’t deep enough to stop him.

As he advanced on you, fumbling with his shotgun, you tumbled backwards. He fell with you, pinning you down beneath the full weight of his body on your stomach. Twisting beneath him you almost got onto your side when you sunk the knife into his inner thigh, remembering the artery there from your mother’s surgery. He got the gun loaded, aimed it at your chest, “Crazy bitch!”

“Fuck you.”

He fired.

Your breath left steam as it flitted weakly from your body, frost still on the ground. Your mouth was open as blood held your face to the forest floor. As your vision darkened, you watched the man slump over and onto the ground beside you. His eyes were open and unmoving.

A burst of green erupted from beneath you, and you smiled as you sank down into the light.

“Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?”

(Part three)

༻Masterlist༺

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hugsandchaos · 2 months

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Seeing Double

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: A ghost who looks a lot like Phantom comes to him in search of protection, and their newest member instantly agrees. He calls her his little sister, and sooner or later, Phantom also might end up with a new brother.

*bangs pots and pans together* @vixen-uchiha, @starlightcat04, @blueliac, COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE!!!

Phantom smiled to himself looking up at the night sky. The event he’d been waiting for finally started a few minutes ago, the top right “corner” of the moon was dark with the tiniest hint of red on the “edge”. He was pretty grateful for being allowed to go outside for the lunar eclipse. Especially since the other members of Young Justice got to tag along as well. He could hear Wally explaining the specifics of the event to Conner below, but ignored it.

Phantom was well above the trees so he could get a perfect view of the lunar eclipse, so it wasn’t very hard to ignore them. Especially since he was so happy about what he was going to see soon. And by soon, he meant an hour or so. Since they were so far out from the city the civilization in general, Phantom also had an amazing view of the stars. It seemed like every second he spent looking at them instead of the moon, a new one would pop into existence. Or he’d recognize another constellation.

He leaned back so he was floating with his back facing the ground and crossed one of his legs over the other. He folded his arms over his abdomen and smiled fondly, acting as if he was laying on solid ground instead of being in midair. Then a small blue fog of smoke came out of his mouth.

Phantom quickly swung himself upright and looked around. He really didn’t want to deal with any ghost fights right now, he just wanted some peace. As he scanned the area around him, he noticed something in the distance. It definitely wasn’t a star, and it was too small to be a pod. It might be the ghost he had sensed being nearby.“Phantom?” Robin called out. The ghostly hero glanced down below.”Everything alright?” He asked.

Phantom nodded and went back to looking at the ghost.”Yeah, just a second. I think I see something.” He yelled back. He squinted his eyes to try to see if he could recognize the ghost. It didn’t take long for him to figure out who it was, and when he did, a huge smile broke out across his face.

“Danielle!!!” Phantom called out.

He quickly rushed towards his younger clone. He didn’t notice his friends calling for him, but he noticed that Dani had definitely spotted him since she was also hurdling towards him. They reached each other somewhere midway and Phantom slowed down enough before they practically collided with each other. Dani didn’t really slow down as soon as him and knocked him back a little, but he wasn’t too fazed by the impact and wrapped his arms around her.

He hugged his sister considerably tighter than he usually hugs people, and spun around a bit as a small way to release some of the new, excited energy. Dani laughed a little as they spun, then he stopped.”How have you been?!” He asked excitedly.

“I’ve been great!!” She said. They both ended the hug with big grins on their face, very happy to see the other after months had passed. Phantom was about to ask her about her time apart from him, but she opened her mouth to speak.”I’ve seen so many cool things that I wanna tell you about, and guess what?!“ She asked. She held her mouth open and pointed at the upper part. That’s when Phantom noticed her canine teeth were a bit bigger than a regular human’s.”I’ve grown fangs, like yours!” She exclaimed. The older halfa gasped softly. He wasn’t quite sure what emotion had just swelled up in his chest a little, but he’s felt it before, and it was definitely positive.

Was it pride? Was he proud of her? He wasn’t sure if that was it or not, but the feeling remained.”That’s so cool, Dani! They’re fang-tastic.” He said.

Dani’s grin grew a little bit wider when he said that.”Why, fang you!” She said. Suddenly, her expression changed drastically from pure excitement to what looked like distrust. Her eyes looked at something behind him, and Phantom quickly turned around to see what or who it was that caused her reaction.

Megan was floating there.”Who’s your friend, Phantom?” She asked kindly. Phantom calmed down a little and smiled again. He glanced back at Dani again and noticed how she looked a little confused, but still defensive. He floated back to be next to Dani.

“Hey, Megan! This is my little sister. She has the same powers as me.” He said. Him talking with his friend so calmly and casually seemed to help Dani relax. Which was what he was hoping for.

Megan’s smile grew as she looked over at the other halfa.”Really?! You’ve never mentioned your relatives before!” She said. She held a hand out.”It’s really nice to meet you, Danielle. I’m Megann! Well, Megann is my Earth name.” She introduced herself. Dani glanced over at Phantom. He knew what it was she was asking and gave her an encouraging nod. With the affirmation that it was safe, Dani smiled and shook Megann’s hand.”Nice to meet you too.” She said with a small smile. For a moment, Phantom was happy that they hadn’t met her in some kind of fight or had a misunderstanding. Then he remembered something pretty important. Not wanting to make it awkward, though, he decided to try to play it cool.

He gave Megann a slightly apologetic look.”I’m sorry, but would you mind letting us chat for a bit? We have a lot to catch up on and talk about, and something tells me it’s going to get a little personal.” He asked politely. He tried to make it understandable and reasonable, and to him, that sounded like a good explanation. He’s been pretty private about his life before he joined Young Justice, anyways.

Megann nodded.”Oh, yeah, of course! I’ll let the others know what you’re doing if they ask.” She said. The older halfa agreed with that idea and nodded to show it. The martian turned around and flew back to the others, and once she was gone, Phantom glanced over at Dani.

She turned to him at the same time, also looking pretty serious. Seemed like they both had something to say.”You go first.” Phantom said. Dani remained silent for an extra minute. Phantom waited until an idea of what it was entered his head, and he didn’t like it one bit.”It wasn’t Vlad, was it?” He asked. Dani shook her head.

“I was... I was spotted by one of them.”

Those words briefly made Phantom’s core stop. The sweet moment suddenly turned way more sour than he was expecting. His eyes widened in shock and horror and they both floated in silence for a while. With each passing second, Dani looked more and more like she’d start to cry. Tears were slowly starting to form, but she was holding back.”I don’t want them to catch me... We both know I can’t go into the Ghost Zone, so... I didn’t know what else to do.” She said. Her voice came close to cracking at the end.

Phantom quickly pulled his mind back together. An urge to protect his sister began to block out the fear he also felt for her and he pulled her into a hug.”They won’t get the chance. I’ll do everything to make sure of it.” He said. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d be able to actually protect her against part of the government, but he wasn’t lying. He was going to do whatever he could to protect her from the Guys In White. Dani hugged back.”Thank you.” She said.

“Anytime.” Phantom said. It was practically obvious to him. As long as his core was still vibrating and his heart was still beating, he’d protect her against anything.”But listen, my team doesn’t know I’m a halfa. They only think I’m a ghost. I think you should say the same.” He said. Dani nodded.

They soon ended the hug and Dani looked better than before. Phantom noticed something above and pointed behind her.”Look at that.” He said. Dani followed his gaze and let out a small, amazed “ohh” under her breath when she saw it. The lunar eclipse wasn’t complete yet, but it was getting there. A part of it was still white, but the majority of it was getting more and more red, and even looked a little orange.”I saw one of those before. Lunar eclipse, right?” She asked.

“Mhmm.” Phantom confirmed.

The two remained there for only a few minutes, watching the moon change ever so slightly, before Dani filled the silence again.”Can we meet the rest of your teammates?” She asked, turning to face him.

“Duhh! This way.” Phantom said, then flew to where his friends had set up camp.

It was a pretty short flight, and once there, his teammates were already looking at them. The group had used Megan’s bioship to fly out an hour or so away from the mountain and brought their own tents, and obviously some campfire snacks along with other necessities. They were all aligned in a circle with a sort of “entrance” facing the direction of the bioship. Phantom landed with Dani close behind and glanced back at her to make sure she wouldn’t get overwhelmed or anything. He wasn’t entirely sure how good her social skills were. She looked a little bit surprised, but overall okay. Phantom turned to his team.”Hey, guys! Hope you don’t mind one more.” He said, gesturing towards his sister. Dani smiled and waved at them.

Megan was the first of them to speak.”Not at all! Come on over, the eclipse is getting closer.” She said. Dani accepted the invitation and began walking over to them. Phantom obviously followed.

He noticed Conner looking a little surprised, but brushed it off since everyone seemed a bit surprised to learn that he apparently had a sister. Dani floated off the ground to be more at eye level with his friends.”How come all of your friends are taller than me?” She asked, glancing back at Phantom. He just shrugged and grinned.”I guess you just got the short end of the stick.” He said. Dani rolled her eyes and looked back at them.

“I’m Danielle! It’s nice to meet all of my brother’s new teammates.” She said. Robin held his hand out and Dani accepted it.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Robin. That’s Wally, Artemis, Conner, Kaldur, and you’ve already met Megan.” He said. Phantom leaned closer to Dani and pointed at Wally.

“He doesn’t really believe in ghosts, so feel free to bug him when he’s not training or on missions.” He whispered.

Wally glared at him and Robin and Artemis both muffled a laugh behind their hands.”Hey!” Wally snapped. Dani gasped almost slightly offended, then grinned mischievously.

“Oh, I’d love to!�� She said. Before she said something else, though, Conner spoke up.

“Megan told us you’re his little sister, but I didn’t expect you to look practically just like our friend. You could be mistaken for twins if it wasn’t for the age difference.” He said. He didn’t seem upset, and Phantom was a bit relieved about it. He didn’t think that Conner would start anything, but he had anger issues and had... negative reactions to being reminded that he’s a clone of someone who doesn’t like him.

Dani shrugged a little. “Well, yeah! I’m his clone, so of course I look like him and have similar powers.“ She said. The camp went quiet. The atmosphere wasn’t exactly heavy or intense, but it certainly wasn’t as happy and calm as before. Dani noticed the change and at first was confused, then she started to grow nervous. She glanced between Phantom’s teammates.

Finally, one of them spoke.“You said she’s your little sister.” Wally said. Phantom immediately hopped onto the defensive, but tried to remember about their treatment towards Conner and not mistake his confusion in his voice for something negative.

Dani seemed to make that mistake, though, since she began floating closer to him with a pretty nervous expression.”Yeah, because she is. Just because there’s no legal documentation or something doesn’t mean she can’t be my family.” Phantom said. Dani stopped right next to him and nodded in agreement. To her surprise and not her big brother’s, his friends all seemed almost a little heart warmed by this. Conner just looked surprised.

“That’s nice of you. To give her a family.” Kaldur said.

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t, but thanks?” Phantom said. Dani suddenly flew upwards and looked at the sky.

“Enough with the sentimental stuff, we’re going to miss it!” She said. The older halfa quickly remembered the reason they’d come outside in the first place and let out a small “oh”. He followed her lead and smiled at the moon once he was above the trees.

It was now completed and fully red. Sure, there was still a tiny bit of lighter red, but the huge majority looked a lot like blood. It was a little creepy, but Phantom still couldn’t help but admire it. It was amazing, and made him almost forget about the talk he’d need to have with Kaldur and Red Tornado, and possibly the rest of the league later. He’d think about that after the eclipse was over. For now, he was just going to enjoy the sight.

#dp x yj #yj x dp #young justice #danny phantom #danny fentom #dani phantom #yj Megan #Yj Conner #Yj Robin #yj kid flash #seeing double #danny phantom crossover #young Justice crossover #danny being a big brother to dani

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mattitties · 4 months

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Boyfriend - matt sturniolo

creepy guy at a bar, matt pretends to be your boyfriend and flirting ensues

“Vodka cran for me and a whiskey sour for my friend,” I tell the bartender, looking around for said friend. My best friend and roommate was invited to this event tonight through her work, so of course I came along with her, but now she’s nowhere to be found. I pull out my phone not only to text her, but also so I can look occupied so nobody comes up to me.

wya

bathroom brb

I put my phone in my pocket as the bartender slides me the drinks and a check. I shoot him a quick smile, pay the tab, and pass it back to him. I grabbed the drinks and turned around, wanting to find a table where I can wait for her to return to me, but instead I’m met with a tall blonde guy smirking right down at me. He’s muscular, has piercing green eyes, and has to be at least 6’3. He towers over me, and I’m immediately intimated and slightly annoyed as I really had no intentions of talking to men tonight.

“Hey,” he smiles. “I’m Ben. I saw you from over there and wanted to introduce myself.”

“Uh huh…” I nod. I’m usually a very friendly person, but this has not been my week and I wanted nothing more than to not be talking to this man. “Well, nice to meet you Ben, but I really gotta get back to my friend.” I begin to shift to the left so I can make my way around him, but he moves to block me. I stare up at him, silently begging him to move.

“What, you can’t even give me a minute? Come on, just tell me your name,” he insists.

I sigh. “I’m good, thanks for asking though!” I soon realize that playing the sarcastic card was a mistake, as he starts to lean in, his arm blocking me from moving anywhere.

He’s about to open his mouth when I feel someone come up behind me and put his hand on my arm. I turn my head and am met with another guy who is basically the polar opposite of the man in front of me: brunette, blue eyes, fairly skinny, and probably about 5’8. Despite me saying I didn’t want to talk to men tonight, whoever this mystery man is is exactly my type. I couldn’t help but stare not only because he’s hot as fuck, but because I definitely recognize him from somewhere.

“Hey baby, sorry the line for the bathroom was crazy,” he says. “Who’s this?”

I pause for a moment, not realizing at first what was happening. “Um… sorry, what was your name again?” I ask the blonde.

“Ben,” he says, clearly pissed off that I didn’t remember. “And who’s this?” He gestures toward the brunette.

“I’m her boyfriend,” he gives him a big smile. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her but I got it from here.”

“You didn’t mention you had a boyfriend,” Ben says pointedly.

“Well when you’re busy trying to corner her it gets a little caught in your throat,” the brunette shoots back. “You’re done, thank you, bye bye now!”

Ben rolls his eyes and finally walks away in defeat. The brunette turns to me, his hand still on my arm. Now that I’m actually looking at him, I see that he is one of the most attractive people I think I’ve ever seen in my life.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, thank you,” I nod.

“Sorry if that was weird, you just looked really uncomfortable,” he says. “I was hoping that wasn’t actually a boyfriend because that would have made things worse…”

“No, no, I don’t. Um, I really appreciate that.”

He does a quick scan of the bar to make sure Ben wasn’t looking, then puts his hand out. “I’m Matt.”

I tell him my name and we begin to make small talk. When there’s a lull in the conversation, my curiosity gets the best of me.

“You know, I recognize you from somewhere, I feel like TikTok or something…”

“Oh yeah, my brothers and I are YouTubers.”

It all clicks in my head. “Oh right! Yeah, I think one of my friends showed me a video one time. And I definitely remember thinking, that guy in the driver’s seat is hot,” I smirk at him.

His cheeks get bright red, but he tries to play it cool. “Ohhh really? Or are you just saying that to flatter me?”

“No, no, definitely not, but if it’s working then…”

“Oh, it’s working.”

I smile. “I’ll have to check out some more of your videos so I can see more of you.”

“You could… or we could just hang out and you could see more of me in person.”

My heart nearly falls into my ass at that. I have never been great at flirting, but the conversation is just coming so easy with this guy that I can’t help myself. “Hmmm… I think I like that idea.”

“Good,” he smiles while pulling out his phone. “Give me your number and I’ll text you later.”

Once I give it to him and he slides his phone back into his pocket, he leans against the pillar behind him and crosses his arms. “It’s crazy how I was just telling my brother how lame this event is. Not so much anymore.”

“I was just telling my roommate the exact same thing. I’m glad I stayed.”

He pushes off the pillar and stands up straight again, closer towards me. “The attendees usually aren’t this pretty.”

Now it’s my turn to blush. “Ohhhh you think I’m prettyyyy?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t already know.” He pauses for a second, then opens his mouth. “Let me buy you dinner tomorrow.” Before I get a chance to respond, his eyes get wide. “Uh oh, your boyfriend’s looking. How do we make it believable that I’m with you?”

I don’t know where all my confidence is coming from right now. Something about him is making me a completely different person. I sit in one of the bar stools so I reach his height more then wrap my arms around his neck. “Like this?” I ask innocently.

He’s clearly at a loss for words for a moment, then he regains his composure. “Yeah, no, uh… yeah, this works.” I start to play with his hair on the back of his neck to try to fluster him even more. “So,” he says, trying to play off the fact that he is staring straight at my cleavage, “where do you live? So I know where to pick you up tomorrow night?”

“We’re by The Grove, not too far from here. I’ll text you the full address,” I tell him.

“Oh perfect. We live right by here too, how convenient. Then I can see my girlfriend whenever,” he teases.

I nod in agreement. “Is he still looking?” I ask, referring to Ben.

He shrugs. “Don’t care. If I bothered looking at him then I wouldn’t get to look at you, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

I tilt my head and smile. “No, we definitely wouldn’t want that.”

He leans even closer, putting both his hands on the bar behind me. “So as my girlfriend,” he says, “I would assume you have a favorite tattoo of mine, right?” He put his arm out and rolled up his sleeve. “Which one would that be?”

I try to keep my composure as I look at the tattoos covering his arm. His forearms and hands are ridiculously veiny and I’m trying to keep the disgusting – but hot – thoughts running through my head at bay. “I like this one,” I say, tracing an anchor he has near his wrist. “Orrrr… this one.” My fingers run over one on his bicep, an owl with his wing covering a skull. He’s already insanely attractive, but his tattoos are making me legitimately sick to my stomach.

“Do you have any?” he asks.

“Yeah, I got a few.” I show him the ones on my arm. “I have one on my rib too, but you’ll have to see that one another time.” I look up at him through my eyelashes and smile sweetly.

He smirks. “Oh will I?”

“Mhm.”

“I have one on my chest,” he says, taking my hand and placing it on the left side of his chest.

“Am I gonna see that one too?” I ask.

“Yeah, I don’t have one there,” he says dryly. “Just wanted an excuse to have your hands on me.”

My jaw drops a little as I slide my hand up his chest slowly until it’s back on his neck. Our faces are inches apart. “Do you think it looks believable that we’re together?” he asks.

“I think so,” I shrug. “It could always look more believable, but I don’t know your thoughts on PDA, so…”

His face is moving closer. “Where are you going with that?”

“Where do you think I’m going with it?”

He responds by giving me a soft kiss on my cheek. “That’s all you get for now.”

I pout in response, then move back and place my elbows on the bar behind me. My chest is a straight shot from his face, and I can tell he’s having a hard time focusing. “So where should we get dinner?” I ask.

“Um… we can go to… um…”

“I’ve never been to um, what do they have there?” I mock.

“Shut up,” he lets out a little laugh. “Let’s go somewhere higher end so I can treat you.”

“Ohhh, you got the big YouTube bucks, huh?”

He shrugs. “Gotta stay humble. I’ll treat you on a few different dates and we can find out just how much YouTube can pay for.”

“That sounds good,” I run my hand lightly through the curls on his neck as I give him the world’s nastiest fuck me eyes.

He steps between my legs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Why? I can’t look at my boyfriend like this?”

“Not with this many people around, no. Alone, though… well, we’re gonna be doing a lot more when we’re alone.”

I’m melting into a puddle in my seat. There’s no way this is happening. “I’m looking forward to it,” I reply, not breaking eye contact.

“I’ve gotta get back to my brothers,” he says in a near whisper. “I’ll text you, okay?”

I nod as he kisses my cheek one last time before he winks at me and walks away.

---------------------------------------------

pt 2 coming soon (probably)

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo

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charliemwrites · 4 months

Text

Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #slasher ghost #charmed ghost #final girl reader

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struniolos · 5 months

Text

bags.

“cant you see me? i’m waiting for the right time.”

chris sturniolo x fem! reader.

synopsis: the one time chris convinces you to sleep in his room instead of nicks, and the truth comes tumbling out.

warnings: smut. minors do not interact.

the sound of chris’ mindless humming fills the air of his room, as you watch from his plush bed the way he thoroughly reads through your mid-term college paper. his hair falls over his eyes, and his legs sit apart. you could watch him like this for hours, how he just seems so calm and present- you try and capture these moments in your mind, like you could take a photograph with your eyes.

“honestly, i don’t think you should include the part about when your childhood dog died.” he speaks up, looking back at you.

you raise an eyebrow. “yeah, it’s not like it’s a core event that impacted my life which is exactly what the paper is supposed to be about.”

he quirks the corner of his lips upwards. “it’s just so depressing, you know?”

“my life is depressing.” you counter with a laugh, watching as he rolls his eyes.

“you asked for my feedback, and that’s what i’ve got. cut the dead dog story.” he says, trying to be as serious as chris sturniolo can possibly be.

you couldn’t help but smile at him, watching as he pushed his feet against the ground to sway his desk chair back and forth. his pyjama pants were definitely a sight to see, blue plaid. a secret, shameful voice in your head fantasised about how soft they would feel up against your skin. you glance down at your watch, which pulses to remind you of your sleep schedule.

“fuck, it’s 12am. i should probably head home.” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

chris looks up as if he were a puppy. you imagined if he had dog ears they’d be perked up. “it’s too late! what if you get murdered or something on your way?”

“in my car?” you question.

he nods, wide eyed. “uh, yeah, what if someone, like, pretends to have been hit by a car then when you stop and get out boom! they stab you.”

“you sure it won’t be you? seems like you’ve had that planned for a while.” you chuckle, shaking your head. chris always had such strange theories and scenarios running around in his mind- if it was possible, you’d love to open it up and take a peak inside. a part of you wondered if you had a place in there somewhere.

he wafts you off with his hand. “you can sleep over, you know nick and matt won’t care.”

you hum in agreement, not particularly wanting to drive home at this late hour, not because of the potential murderers, but the fact that you were ready to collapse in a heap from how tired your brain was. “alright, i’ll go ask nick to pull out his spare mattress for me.”

“it’s so strange he has a spare bed for all his friends when they sleep over, like, just share a bed?” chris rambles, as he stands up and stretched his arms over his head, his stomach peaking out from under his white top. god.

“it’s not strange, it’s very thoughtful. he’s even got a spare cabinet of toiletries for when people stay over.” you point out.

“jesus christ.” chris groans, rolls his eyes.

“whatever.” you scoff, beginning to stand up off chris’ bed, dreading the thought of having to walk up two flights of stairs to get to nick’s room.

chris frowns at you, tilting his head. “you don’t have to go. why don’t you just sleep in here?”

“uh…” you try to muster up something, some dumb excuse for why you couldn’t. because i’m madly in love with you? because i won’t be able to control myself?

“so you’ll have a sleepover with nick but not me?” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “don’t make it weird. we’re just sharing a bed.”

“yes, exactly the point of why it will be weird.” you laugh.

“come on, it’ll be fun. we could watch a movie?” he suggests, a smile adorning his plump lips.

this flusters you, the thought of being so close, watching a movie together, alone, in his room. there was always someone with you, wether it be nick, matt, nate or madi. but not tonight- and that scared you.

“alright, i’ll stay for a bit but i’m not sleeping in here.” you tell him firmly, trying to lay down boundaries before you did anything stupid.

this seems to please chris enough, as he smiles and jumps onto the bed ridiculously, the weight of him bouncing the bed and making it squeak. a dark part of your mind thought about the other ways his bed would make those noises, but you shut it down immediately. once you sat down beside him, with your legs crossed, you scrolled through the netflix catalogue on his tv. you finally settle on she’s the man.

you can see chris in the corner of your eye scrunching his face up. “oh come on, really?”

“it’s a good movie!” you argue, hitting his arm playfully.

he scoffs at you. “so you’ve said about a million other movies that were all shit.”

“actually, could we not watch a movie? i’m really fucking tired.” you yawn, snuggling yourself into the duvet. you remain on top of it though, in a way of telling yourself to not get too comfortable. “i cant be bothered arguing about what to watch, anyway.”

“okay, well what did you want to do instead?” he asks, turning onto his side to face you, now. the only light in his room was that of the tv which illuminated his pale skin, his bright blue eyes glistening. it hurt just how gorgeous he was without even trying.

you shrug. “sleep?”

he nods, now rolling onto his back. you assume this means he is in agreement, but he doesn’t say anything. he just stares up at his ceiling fan, breathing slow. you watch him deep in thought, like his mind is really tinkering over something and gnawing at his insides.

“why don’t you want to sleep in here?” he suddenly says, turning his head slightly to face you.

you sigh. “because chris, it’s weird. we’re friends- we aren’t like, dating or anything. it’s not weird with nick, but with you…”

“with me what?”

your mind fogged with a cluster of everything. all of the stolen glances, the going places you knew chris would be there, always being at his beck and call because you were a ‘good friend’.

you sigh, deciding if you didn’t say anything now, you’d beat yourself up for it. “because...because i like you, chris, and i know you don’t feel the same. i know how you feel about relationships, they scare you. so it’s just easier if i set boundaries for myself and-“

“you like me?” he cuts you off mid sentence, now propping himself up on his side on his forearm.

your stomach sinks. there’s no turning back now. “yes.”

there’s a thick pause between you, and you prepare yourself for the worst. you squeeze your eyes shut, covering your face with your hands. why the fuck had you told him? you’ve ruined everything. now he will never want to hang out with you, and it’ll be awkward with nick and matt and-

“why have you never said anything?” he whispers, quieter than you’d ever heard him.

you swallow, biting your lips hard. “because i didn’t want to ruin not only our friendship but mine with nate, madi, matt, and oh god especially nick.”

chris nods slowly, like he’s really taking to what you’re saying, like he understands the weight of it and why you’d never said anything. why you’d always stayed quiet, and admired from afar. he touched his hair, mindlessly twirling a strand.

“nick never told you?” chris said softly, his eyebrows knitting into one. he looked sad, almost.

“told me what?” you whisper back, your heart now beating in your throat.

chris was never one with words, so when he leaned over and pressed his lips softly to yours, you understood this was his way of saying i like you too.

your cheeks were burning, as he cupped them in his hands. you both slowly began to roll over, with chris now hovering above you and his knee between your legs. you kissed him pathetically desperate, your body keening against his. you lips didn’t seperate once, as if you were breathing air into each other’s lungs and if you parted you’d suffocate. his hair tickles your forehead, his nose pushing into your cheek. you were waiting for yourself to wake up, that you had fallen asleep and this was only a sick part of your mind playing tricks on you. but it was real, he was real.

“fuck, i’ve wanted to do this for so long.” he whispers against you, as his hands roam down your body.

you gasp at the feeling. “you have?”

“mhm.” he murmurs, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “can i take this off?”

you nod, batting your lashes to look at him, and god, he was beautiful as ever.

“this isn’t going to ruin things between us, is it? because i’ll stop right now if it means you’ll never speak to me again.” he pleads, doe eyes looking at you wide and earnest.

“chris.” you whisper, your hand coming to hold his warm, pink cheek. “i would never not talk to you. i want this, i have wanted this.” more than you know you wanted to add, but couldn’t find the willpower.

“i want this too.”

you both assisted each other in swiftly discarding of your clothes, leaving you both only in your underwear. you felt so exposed, the fact he knew how to you felt and that your body was on display. he stroked your thigh as it came to curl around his back, his kisses travelling to your neck and collarbone. you moaned softly at the feeling, his warm lips lighting little fires within your skin. he bit at the plush flesh above your bra before removing it, his hands coming to hold and massage each mound.

you guided one of his hands down to your heat, begging with your eyes. “please.”

chris snaked his hand under your waistband, his slender fingers softly touching your folds. it was all so painfully soft, how he rubbed circles at your core while kissing you slow and deep. he shimmied your panties down, leaving them at your thigh. he dipped a finger into you, your velvet walls pulsating around him. your body begged for more, and chris listened. he was in tune with you, without having to say a word. he pushed in another finger, which elicited a deep moan from within your throat.

“that feel good?” chris murmured, his lips at your cheek.

“god, yes.” you whined, your body curling against his.

he pumped his fingers in and out of your wetness, as you clawed into his shoulders and shuddered against his bigger frame. you could feel him through his boxers, as he ground down against you. his pace increased as he felt you clench around his fingers, the sounds coming from you almost pornographic.

you moaned and cried for him, “chris! i’m almost- ah!”

your orgasm came strong like a thunderous tsunami, your legs stretching and your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your mouth hung open silently as no noise could possibly explain how euphoric you felt.

“mhm, that’s it.” he cooed, riding you through your high and praising you in your ear.

you would never be able to see him the same, never look at him platonically ever again. you knew this would ruin you. he kissed you deep, his tongue licking into your mouth.

“i want to feel you.” he moaned, grinding his constricted mound against your heat. “i want to be inside you.”

the weight of him on top of you combined with his honeyed words began to make you feel all hot and tingly again, as you pulled him incredibly close, your lips puffed and swollen.

“i want that too.” you manage, grinding up against him, the friction euphoric.

he pauses, looking down at you, his chain dangling in your face and hair flopping over his face. “are you sure?”

“mhm.” you hum, “need you.”

chris gives you one last firm kiss, before reaching down to pull his boxers to his thighs. your face flushed a deep maroon, watching as his leaking, pink tip pulsated. he rubbed himself gently, and you reached down to help him. he guided your hand up and down his length, and you felt yourself getting wetter. you shimmied your panties the rest of the way down, kicking them off your ankles. swiftly, he reached over to his bedside table drawer to grab a condom, ripping the packet with his teeth and gliding it down his shaft. you clenched your thighs with anticipation.

the brunette lined himself up with your weeping entrance, as you stroked his hair. you both watched as he slid into you, his tip disappearing into you. your jaw went slack, a pathetic moan tumbling from your plush lips. chris slumped over you once he had bottom out, his face in the crook of your neck.

“fuck, you feel so good.” he groaned, his hair tickling the nape of your neck. “can i move?”

“please.” you beg, as he lifts his head to lock eyes with you. you could no longer see the blue, they were merely bands around his blown pupils.

the first thing you felt was relief as he began to thrust in and out of you, his forearms leaning at each side of you as he held himself up. you knew it was quite vanilla, but thoroughly enjoyed being able to see his pink cheeks and open mouth as he moaned on top of you. his thrusts were passionate and deep, something you least expected from him. it felt ridiculously good, your body overcome with a warm fuzzy feeling deep from within you.

“faster.” you whimpered, holding his head with both hands, clawing into his soft dark hair.

he did as he was told. he picked your legs up, pushing them to your chest so you were folded in half. he began to snap his hips against yours, his balls slapping against your ass. he was impossibly deep, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. he grunted and groaned as he thrust, while you whimpered and clawed at his back. the noises coming from your bodies were ridiculously erotic, the wetness of your pussy and the moans escaping your throat.

“i want to hear you.” he growled, eyes dark and swirling with lust.

“ah, chris yes!” you cried, as he slammed deep within you, his hands holding the back of your thighs to keep you in place.

he quickly slipped out of you, and you almost cried at the feeling of being empty. he flipped you over so quickly you didn’t have time to register, your stomach flat against the bed and his chest flush against your back. he sunk back into you, and you pressed your head into the pillows, muffling your cries.

“oh my- fuck.” you moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

his hands found purchase on the flesh of your hips, gripping it tight and using it as leverage for his relentless thrusts. his body slammed against yours, fucking you into the mattress. he reached around between you and the sheets, rubbing your sensitive bud.

“i’m close! shit!” you swore, biting your fist as he continued to slam into you, your ass bouncing against his pelvis.

“me too, ah!” he grunted, “i wanna see your face when i fill you up.”

you moaned at the thought, hoisting one leg up and twisting your core so that you turn around to look at him. he had a sheen of sweat coating his body and his lips between his teeth, while his hair fell in his face and his arms tensed as he held you down. the bed frame squeaked rapidly, thudding against the wall. there was no way nick and matt couldn’t hear you.

“fuck!” you cried, your orgasm washing over you in a thick wave. your vision was blurred, and your body froze.

the feeling of you clenching around him must’ve sent him over the edge, as chris’ hips stuttered with a cracked moan coming from his throat. he thrust into a few more times, spurting his hot liquid into you. your eyes were lidded, a dumb smile overcoming you as you watched him puff and pant. he collapsed beside you, but you made sure to face him so you could admire his post sex haze. you both lay in silence for a while, basking in each other.

“i cant believe we just did that.” chris mumbled, his finger tracing mindlessly over your face.

“me neither.” you breathe.

he thinks for a moment, pushing his hair out of his face to reveal his pink cheeks, freckles spattered over his nose. “you think matt and nick heard?”

“definitely. secrets out now.” you say, scrunching your nose.

chris laughs, reaching his arms to envelope you into him. he switched the tv off, now leaving you in the pitch black. as you lay there, caged within his arms, you couldn’t help but let somber thoughts cloud you. you wondered how things would change, what would you two become? was this a one time thing? did he really like you back or were you just another warm body?

“do you really like me too?” you whispered into the darkness, nuzzling your nose into his chest to feel his heartbeat.

“i always have. i just never know what to say in these situations. i get stuck.” he confesses, his hands running through your hair soothingly. “girls scare me.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “who knew, huh? chris sturniolo, ladies man…is scared of girls.”

he laughs with you now, squeezing you tight. “shut up.”

you find yourself lulled to sleep by his breathing and the feeling of him pressed against you. you’d never felt so comforted, like you belonged somewhere, more than what you did in that moment.

#god i’m bad at endings!#arghhhh #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #my works #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolos #chris sturniolo x reader

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dbs-scans · 14 days

Text

April Fools’ 2024

This is our translated version of the event held on AidaIro’s twitter account for April Fools’ Day 2024. We hope you enjoy!

(Read it on twitter.)

You're a member of a certain occult forum. Among the various spooky stories posted every day, you find one a bit stranger then usual... Almost as if it were a cry for help—

――Hello, is anybody there?

POLL:

There is ✅

There isn't

Thank God, somebody replied!

I know this is out of the blue, but will you hear my story?

POLL:

Sure ✅

No thanks

When I woke up, I was sitting in an unfamiliar train. Instead of what I usually carry, there was an old cellphone in my pocket along with a piece of paper that said "Use when you're in a bind." There's no service, so I can't call anyone or anything like that, but for some reason I can access this website.

I heard about this once from Teru-nii... But this is THAT website, isn't it!? The anonymous forum for talented freelance exorcists!? I mean, everyone's name here is "Anonymous Exorcist", after all!

POLL:

That’s right ✅

We’re regular people

Sweeeeet! In that case, I'll tell ya what's been happening over on my end, and you exorcism experts can tell me what to do! Thanks for the help!

First off, it looks like I'm inside of a train. I don't take the train to school, so I don't know what line I'm on or anything... About 30 minutes have gone by, but it hasn't stopped at any stations yet. It's hard to explain, but something’s off...I get the feeling this is no ordinary train.

POLL:

You should take a good look around the train car ✅

You shouldn't move around unprepared

Got it! I'll take a look around the other cars, then.

... I've explored around 2 to 3 cars by now, but it's about the same everywhere. Like me, a number of other people are riding the train, but they all seem to be asleep.......Ahh!!

Excuse me for the outburst, I just recognized one of the other passengers. I'll try waking him.

Rise and shine, bud. Now, how'd you wind up in a place like this...? "I just woke up here"...? Guess I have no choice but to take you with me, then.

Oh, looks like the train's stopped. I'll see if we can get off now.

Looks like this station's been deserted. Nobody's here, and it's weirdly quiet, too...gives me the creeps. Now how do we get home...?

There's a signboard with the station's name on it, but it's so worn out that I can't make out what it says... It's made up of 4 hiragana characters, though. Do you have any ideas, my expert exorcists!?

POLL:

Ki 1️⃣

Sa 3️⃣

Ra 2️⃣

Gi 4️⃣

Ah, so this is Kirasagi Station! Yeah, now that you've said it, I remember thinking it was that... You guys are insanely in the know...but who would expect less from a group of exorcism experts!

By the way, while I was waiting on your replies, I took a look around the station and found a telephone box. I only have a single 10 yen coin on me, but...I'm thinking I should try calling someone. Who's my best bet?

POLL:

You should call a family member

If you have one, maybe a dependable upperclassman? ✅

An upperclassman...? Got it. I'll give them a call. I can't talk long, since it's only a 10 yen coin, but...hopefully I learn something useful!

――Brrrring brrring... click! ???: "Hello? Who's this...?"

Nene: "Kou-kun!? Why are you calling from a suspicious number!?" "You're lost in a mysterious train station...? O-oh nooo!" "Hanako-kun, what do we do!?"

Hanako-kun: "Hey, kid. You in trouble again?" "I have two pieces of advice for you:" "First, if you want to go home, then you should follow the train tracks." "Second..."

Hanako-kun: "The signal's weak inside the tunnel, so be careful, okay?" Click! Beeep, beeep, beeep...

It disconnected. I hope I didn’t worry senpai... Anyway, for now I'll just do what Hanako said and follow the train tracks. He may go out of line at times, but despite being an evil spirit, I don't think he's all bad...but uh, that's a story for another time!

Come on, Mitsuba, let's go! ...I'm a can't-function-without-instructions earring?? Look who's talking! Now shut up and follow me.

... ..... ...Hm?

There's someone on the tracks just ahead. A forest surrounds us on both sides, so the only way through is forward...

I feel like they're trying to tell me something... ...Do you guys know?

POLL:

It's someone you don't know

It's someone you know ✅

Someone I know...? You mean someone in trouble like we are? ...No?

???: "---eyyyy. Heyyyy!"

Huh!? That's...hey, that's Hanako! But I just talked to you on the phone...and now you're lost? In that case, you can come with us and...

???: "It's dangerous to walk on the train tracks." "It's dangerous to walk on the train tracks." "It's dangerous to walk on the train tracks."

W-what!? You're not Hanako!!! L... Let's get outta here, Mitsuba!!!

???: "It's dangerous to walk on the train tracks." "It's dangerous to...."

Th-that was close... Looks like he isn't...chasing after us... I never would've expected a fake Hanako to show up! We've gotta proceed more carefully next time... Sh-shut up, Mitsuba. I wasn't scared!!

We've been walking for a while now, yet we haven't come across a single station... Hm? Is that-- ...A tunnel?

We can't see what's up ahead, but me and my buddy here are gonna go ahead and check it out anyway. I'll update you guys after we've gotten inside!

POLL:

Just don't let go of their hand, alright? ✅

Who is that beside you?

The road splits into two from here. I can’t see the end of either path… Right or left, which should we choose……? Let’s ask the experts!

Huh? I can’t post anything anymore. Maybe there’s no signal here... Hm? What is it, Mitsuba?

You can hear festival music coming from the left path? Flutes and drums? “It sounds lively and fun”? But I don’t hear anything...

…You want me to come with you?

...No. I'm not going left with you. You know what...

💻

POLL:

Kvu'a sla nv vm opz ohuk. (Don’t let go of his hand.) ✅

Sla nv vm opz ohuk. (Let go of his hand.)

You...

You're coming with me!

I see light! The exit's near! Just a little fur--

--THER!?

???: "I can't follow you any further. So long, Minamoto-kun." "Take care of yourself, alright?"

......

...Huh? I'm at...the neighborhood tunnel? What was I doing all the way out here? I feel like I was just with someone, too, but I can't remember who... Hm? There's something in my pocket...

It's a broken cellphone. Maybe someone lost it. It ain't mine, that's for sure... --Oh, crap! It's gotten really dark outside. I better hurry home...

Thanks for all the help, guys! ...? Uhh, who am I thanking exactly...? Eh, who cares.

I'm hooome!

🚃 The End 🚃

#tbhk #jshk #jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun #aidairo #twitter #jibaku shonen hanako kun

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fyorina · 1 month

Text

ᡣ𐭩 DRIVE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: against all odds, you come across dazai osamu again, and you somehow find yourself roped into being his date for an event celebrating the armed detective agency. you're not falling. you swear. (you're lying). {wordcount: 9.2k; fem!reader, sfw, romance}

AUTHOR'S NOTES part 2 is hereeeeee! i hope you guys enjoy, this scene had one of my favs to write so i hope you like it too!! reblogs definitely appreciated!! i’ll reblog with the taglist as soon as it decides to show on the dash & in the tags!

SEE: BADLANDS SERIES MASTERLIST READ: UNREAL UNEARTH SIDE B

“We really need to stop meeting like this.”

You aren’t sure how you feel as you stare at the man hanging upside down, tangled in a tapestry—amused, concerned, partly puzzled, a combination of all three really. Dazai Osamu looks half out of it as his gaze focuses on you; you wonder how long he’s been hanging like this, and how he managed to get in this position in the first place.

For the second time in two weeks, the man manages to catch you off guard, this time on your way home from a date that had gone horribly, horribly wrong with a classmate; you’d already spent the past two hours wandering the streets upset over all of this and you were ready to get home, but now you find yourself hesitating.

“Ah, my sweet, sweet belladonna, my lovely savior,” Dazai sighs, directing a quick, flirty smile toward you. “Won’t you help a poor, suffering man?”

“How did you manage this, Dazai?” you ask, letting the entertainment slip into your tone to distract yourself from the stress of the failed date as you look around and try to figure out the best way to get him down from where he’s entangled. You’d have to climb up onto the nearby dumpster to get enough reach to cut him down but you don’t even have anything to cut him down with.

“I tried to jump off that building,” he sighs, and you follow his gaze up to the tall building right to the left of the two of you. Your lips part in shock, you suppose you should have figured something like that because how else would he end up tangled upside down in a tapestry, but it’s still jarring to hear. “But I hit this on the way down and got stuck. I’ve been here for way too long, so many people have passed me by without helping—what a cruel, cruel world.”

“You are either the luckiest or unluckiest man alive,” you murmur, catching sight of a jagged piece of metal underneath the dumpster, picking it up and doing your best to climb onto it, but it’s difficult in heels and a dress. “Why are you so intent on dying?”

“Why are you so intent on living?” Dazai hits you with a question back instead of responding, peering up at you as he slowly spins in the air while you do your best to cut through the thick tapestry.

You frown at the question, brows furrowing. “Because I have things I still need to accomplish. Goals to achieve. Don’t you?”

“The only goal I need to achieve is finding a beautiful lady to do a double suicide with,” Dazai says, lips curling up into another charming smile but the effects of it are diminished because of the way he was still hanging upside down, spinning in slow circles. “Would you like to join me, bella?”

“Maybe in fifty years,” you say dryly.

“I’ll-”

Dazai doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you finally cut through the tapestry and he tumbles down head first to the ground. You bite back a smile as he lets out a loud yelp, crumpling on the ground in an unceremonious heap. You lower yourself back down to the ground, eyes settling on him as you watch him push himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head.

He looks up at you through his lashes, the charming smile on his lips a bit more lazy and casual as he looks over you. “My, aren’t you dressed pretty? What’s the occasion?” As you prepare to give a bullshit excuse, he holds up his hand and says: “Wait! Let me guess. A long day of work and no one to go out with after, so you decided to get all dressed up and walk around the city to see if fate would lead you to someone, and since our fingers are tied by that thin red thread, naturally, you were led right to me. Oh, my fated, no wonder I’ve evaded death so easily despite so many attempts, destiny refused to let me die as we’re predestined to be together.”

You stare at him, watching as he presses the back of his hand to his forehead, tilting his head back because what the fuck?

“I was on a date,” you say, ignoring the entire rest of what he said to answer his question, truthfully at that because his whole tirade about destiny and fate had thrown you off.

Dazai wilts, but then straightens up again and says, “Well, it couldn’t have been a good one if he didn’t at least walk you home.”

You grimace. “I think I should be insulted by how pleased you look at my night being ruined,” you mutter, holding your hand out to him to help him up.

Dazai places his hand in yours; long, thin fingers wrapped around your hand as you help him to his feet. He doesn’t let go immediately, nor does he back away, brown eyes lidded as he looks down at you, so close that your clothes were brushing his. The corner of his lips tilt up, his fingertips grazing your inner wrist. “How about we make the most of a ruined night then?”

You raise your eyebrows—you think you should get back to your apartment, get some work done to make up for how much of a mess the night had turned out, but you find yourself hesitating because do you really want to go wallow alone now?

“How do you plan we do that?” you ask instead of giving him an answer, although he evidently takes it as an answer considering his face lights up at your words.

“Come on,” he says, tugging your arm as he turns to make his way down the sidewalk, dragging you along with him. “I’ll show you someplace.”

“O-okay,” you fumble over your words in surprise, but it isn’t like Dazai is giving you much of a choice considering the way he’s pulling you along with him.

Your face feels hot when you notice the people still prowling the streets shooting the two of you odd looks—Dazai doesn’t seem to care, focusing on getting you to whatever destination he has planned, but you can feel their eyes burning into you with every step you take.

“Ignore them,” Dazai says, as if he can read your thoughts. He tosses his head over his shoulder as he looks at you, the corner of his lips curling up into another lazy smile that makes your breath catch. “They don’t know how to have fun.”

“Yeah,” is all you reply with, a bit doubtfully as you turn your gaze up to the dark skies, where the dark clouds you had noticed earlier in the day are now gathered over the city. “It’s going to rain.”

Dazai only raises his eyebrows, face riddled with disbelief as he turns fully to look at you, walking backwards without a care in the world as he forces people to walk around him. “Now, you care about rain?” he asks, referring to your first meeting.

You let out a puff of laughter. “I guess you have a point.”

“Naturally,” he says, teeth gleaming beneath the streetlamps as his grin widens. “I’m one of the Agency’s sharpest detectives, after all.”

“How humble,” you note, but your voice is light, teasing, and you’re almost embarrassed.

Dazai is unbothered by your playful dig, spinning back around to turn down the sidewalk onto a busier street, carelessly pulling you along with him and causing people to swerve around the two of you. You try to fumble out apologies as people shoot the two of you dirty looks but Dazai barely gives you enough time to speak the words as he continues down the street.

“Have you heard?” Dazai asks, returning to walking backward so he can look at you, garnering even more angry looks. “We’re heroes now.”

You have heard, of course, it’s all over the news. You hadn’t been in Yokohama when everything happened, you were visiting a friend outside of the city, but you’d seen it all going down on the TV as it was happening. And naturally, it’s impossible to avoid all of the news articles honoring the Armed Detective Agency and their part in taking down the threat to the city afterward.

“I have,” you drawl, and then add after a moment’s hesitation: “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating instead of…”

Instead of trying to kill yourself.

“This is me celebrating,” Dazai says mournfully, so casually that it takes you aback as he tilts his head back in grief. “It was supposed to be successful this time.”

“Well…” You aren’t sure what to say to that, the words dying on your lips as the first raindrops begin to fall from the sky. “I’m glad it wasn’t successful,” you finally decide upon, averting your gaze as Dazai’s face shifts into one of surprise as he looks down at you.

His lips part as if to say something, but seems to decide against it, instead letting a smile slip onto his face as he says: “Speaking of celebrations, my sweet belladonna, this hero needs a date to the celebratory event that the government is hosting for us in two weeks. Join me?”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, as the rain begins to come down harder—a flash flood, you realize. You watch as people start scattering around you, running for cover, but you and Dazai remain standing in the middle of the sidewalk, him awaiting your answer and you trying to figure out how to politely say you’d rather die than go to a celebratory event with people you don’t know.

You wonder if Dazai suspects your answer because he does not, in fact, give you the chance to speak.

Your eyes widen as he tugs you closer to him. “What’re you doing?” you stutter over your words as his free hand finds your hip and he spins the two of you around recklessly, forcing several people to dodge again as they run past the two of you and into a store to wait for the sudden rain to pass. Only his firm grip on you keeps you from slipping on the puddles forming on the sidewalk beneath the two of you. “Dazai!”

“Dancing,” is all he replies with, eyes shining as he lifts his arm to twirl you beneath it, your heels splashing in a puddle as he drags you along with his dance like a puppet. “It’s supposed to be romantic—dancing in the rain—I’ve seen it in movies, are you romanced, yet?”

You aren’t sure what makes you want to laugh, maybe it’s the absurdity of the situation or the way Dazai keeps having to blink away the raindrops that fall into his eyes, but before you know it, you're biting your lower lip to withhold the giggles rising through your chest.

“Are you laughing at me?” Dazai gasps in mock offense as he spins you outward once. You nearly trip over your heels but before you can, he’s spinning you back toward him, arm wrapping around your waist as he dips you down. “And here I was thinking I was doing a good job romancing you.”

His voice drops an octave as he lowers his voice, dark eyes searching yours, and you think that there’s absolutely nothing romantic about this. Rain is pouring down over the two of you, his hair is wet and matted against his forehead, dripping in your face as he hangs over you, you can feel his breath fanning against your lips and his body heat radiating against yours. Lightning webs across the sky above him, illuminating his face in a way that has your breath catching. You’re in heels and a dress and you can so easily trip and break your ankle, it’s only his hold on you preventing that from happening. It’s dangerous, and stupid—and maybe it’s a little romantic.

“I-”

You aren’t even able to get the admission from your lips because as soon as you begin to speak, someone slams into Dazai from behind. You yelp and his eyes widen as he stumbles forward, twisting the two of you around so he takes the brunt of the fall. He hits the ground hard with an ‘oof,’ half in the muddy grass and half on the sidewalk, and you fall on top of him, lips parted in shock.

“Well,” Dazai finally says after a few moments of stunned silence. “This is distinctly less romantic.”

And you laugh. Unable to hold it back now, you burst into laughter—hands braced on his chest, body flush against his, there’s mud splattered across his face and you’re pretty sure your makeup must be running down your cheeks from the rain. You think that your heels are probably ruined and you’d have to spend hours getting the stains out of your dress, but you laugh because you can’t remember the last time you actually had fun and weren’t stressed about school and the future, and your night had been going so horribly that you’d lost any hope of it taking a turn for the better. You might’ve been crying a bit too, you aren’t sure why, but it’s raining so you hope that he doesn’t notice.

You notice Dazai’s eyebrows lift a bit in surprise before his face seems to soften, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lets his head fall back against the mud.

“So,” he says, “about that date?”

“Nobody believes I have a date for the event,” Dazai complains two weeks later as he enters your apartment and throws himself onto your couch, watching as you dab on some dark red lipstick—an occurrence you’d become quite used to the past two weeks, because evidently Dazai Osamu does not need a key nor invitation into your home, he just picks the lock and comes right in. At least you’re expecting him this time. “Atsushi-kun laughed in my face. He laughed in my face! Can you believe it? After everything I’ve done for him, the nerve.”

You grin, glancing up into your mirror to catch his eyes. “To be honest, I still don’t believe you have a date for the dinner and I am your date.”

Dazai blanches, throwing his arm over his face as he slumps into the couch. “Et tu, bella?” he sighs sorrowfully and you laugh, spinning around in your chair to face him.

“Think of it this way,” you say, twisting your lipstick back into its container and placing it into your purse. Dazai peek up from the couch, eyes focusing on you as you speak. You almost feel a bit flustered under his gaze, it’s more intense than you expected. “You’ll get to see the looks on their face when they realize that you do actually have a date.”

Dazai brightens a bit at your words and then, as if a sudden thought passed through his head, he begins cackling like a madman—although you’re beginning to think the description is far more apt than you believed, Dazai Osamu is simply not sane. “Kunikada-kun is going to be so mad that I have a date and he doesn’t.”

“You’re wrinkling your suit, sit up straight,” you say and turn your attention back to the mirror, discreetly watching as Dazai lets out an exaggerated sigh before doing as you ask. Your eyes linger on him for a moment—he looks different dressed up nicely in a sleek, dark suit than his typical tan trench coat. He still wears those odd bandages all over his body, but you suppose that’s just a him thing, and no fancy event would get him to take them off. You can’t quite place what the exact difference is but you find that your gaze keeps dragging back to him.

He catches you staring and winks, you roll your eyes and look away, grateful that your embarrassment doesn’t show on your face as you glance one last time at yourself in the mirror to ensure that nothing is out of place

Dazai, you have learned over the past two weeks, can’t stand silence, so you aren’t surprised when you hear him start complaining about something else as soon as the conversation dies down.

“Did you know I pushed two of my little protégés to work with each other?” he asks, reaching out to grab the papers on your coffee table when he thinks you aren’t looking. You throw one of your makeup brushes at him. He yelps and draws back his hand.

“That’s nice,” you say absently. “Do they work together well?”

“Oh, they work together great,” Dazai says, and you glance back at him when you notice the sheer bitterness in his tone. “I think they love each other now.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of why Dazai seems so irritated by this. “That’s… great, isn’t it?” you asked slowly.

“No!” Dazai says so vehemently that you think he might leap to his feet in outrage. “That is not great. They are not allowed to be in a relationship before me. I forbid it.”

Your lips part a bit, a noise caught between a laugh and shock escaping them as you look over at Dazai again. “Okay,” you say, dragging out the word in amusement. Dazai shoots an affronted expression toward you in response, but you don’t give him the chance to speak again. You rise to your feet and swing your purse over your shoulder, glancing at the time, realizing you had about fifteen minutes to be at the City Hall, which is a forty minute drive without traffic and it’s a Saturday evening, so there’s always traffic.

“Oh god, we have to-”

You turn to leave only to bump right into Dazai. Blinking in confusion, you look up at him to ask what he’s doing but the words die on your tongue.

He’s too close as he looks down at you, you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and you can feel his body brushing yours, the corner of his lips twitching up. “Have I earned a kiss yet?” he hums, leaning his face down a bit so that his lips are almost barely grazing yours.

“Maybe,” you say, eyes flickering down to his lips for the sparest second before you watch his eyes light up only for you to take a step back, “but even if you did, you’re not messing up my makeup.”

Dazai looks as if he’d been shot in the heart, head dropping back as he groans and pouts at your words. “You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs, voice a long whine. “Won’t you indulge me with just a taste?”

“No,” you say, slipping past him to make your way over to the door where the keys to your car are hanging on a small hook. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.”

The exaggerated grief that paints Dazai’s expression instantly disappears as he eyes your keys with a look that’s nothing short of devious. Distantly, you frown and close your fist around your keys, putting them out of his sight, but Dazai is undeterred, walking over to you.

“I can drive us,” he says, that same expression on his face as he holds his hand out. You don’t trust the look on his face, nor do you trust the way he’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s the least I can do, right?”

You’re doubtful, looking down at his extended hand as he waits for you to drop the keys in them. “I can drive,” you say, but Dazai immediately pouts at your words, looking genuinely bummed out, and you feel a little bad because you don’t even like driving, you just don’t trust Dazai to be a good driver. You hesitate. “Do you even know how to drive?”

“Of course,” Dazai says hurriedly, dark eyes lighting back up.

You exhale, reaching out to place your keys in his hand—the smile on his face is wicked, dread builds in your gut. You think you might have made a mistake.

You’re surprised that your car is still in one piece as Dazai parks crookedly across three spots in the parking lot of the city hall. You’re surprised that you are in one piece. You don’t move for a second, fingers still biting into the leather seat you’re buckled in, eyes wide and barely breathing. As Dazai turns the car off, you finally turn your head to the side to look at him before getting out of the car, grateful to be standing on solid ground.

“Never again.”

Dazai’s unbothered, as always—his smile is wide and restless, eyes exhilarated as they dart around the car, fingers clutching the keys as he finally steps outside. He looks as if he’d just won the lottery, that gleeful over having been given the chance to drive. You knew you should have gone with your gut when the man first asked if he could drive, and as miserable and anxiety-inducing it was racing through the streets, in between cars and half on the sidewalk, you think it might’ve been worth it, a bit, considering Dazai’s reaction.

“Maybe once more,” Dazai bargains, holding out his arm to you.

“Never again,” you repeat, but your voice is light as you take his arm and let him lead you up the steps to the city hall. “I cannot believe you didn’t get us pulled over.”

“Must not have been that bad then,” Dazai says, proudly.

“Ha! More like they didn’t want to risk their own lives trying to stop you.”

Dazai pouts terribly and then adds petulantly, “But it was fun.”

“It was something alright,” you agree idly. You aren’t sure if you were having fun in the moment, you were more scared for your life and your car, but you suppose looking back on it was a bit entertaining.

“You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs exaggeratedly. “You refuse my well-earned kiss, you mock me, now you insult my driving skills.”

“The only thing insulted tonight was my car,” you mutter to yourself, glancing back once more at it before Dazai steps forward to push open the wide doors to the city hall.

Instantly, you’re met with the sound of loud chatter and laughter and a young, unfamiliar voice calling, “Dazai-san!” excitedly.

Your gaze drifts up from Dazai to where a teen with silver hair and pretty eyes rushes up to the two of you. He’s so tunnel visioned on Dazai that he doesn’t even notice you until he’s standing right in front of you, and when he does, his eyes go so wide that you think they might pop right out of his skull. He looks between you and Dazai questioningly, lips parting and closing like a fish out of water.

Dazai looks like the cat that got the canary, eyes gleaming at the expression on Atsushi’s face and lips twitching up into a wicked smile.

“Atsushi-kuuuuun,” he drags out the boy's name in a long sing-song. “Meet my sweet belladonna, the one you so rudely claim didn’t exist.”

Atsushi looks flustered as he turns his attention toward you, eyes wide with panic and redness rising to his cheeks. “I didn’t-I mean-I just-” he stutters so badly that you’re forced to take mercy on the poor boy.

“Don’t worry,” you say with an easy grin. “I wouldn’t believe I existed either coming from Dazai.”

Dazai gapes. Atsushi snickers, hand coming up to cover his mouth to hide his smile. Atsushi glances once at Dazai and then looks back at you and whispers, “Is he paying you?”

Dazai looks thoroughly offended.

“Unfortunately, he doesn't need to,” you say with a snort, "but I'm sure he would if he had to."

Dazai gasps.

Atsushi snorts loudly and then looks a bit embarrassed. A woman with pretty eyes and short dark hair comes up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. She throws a sharp grin at you. “You must be the infamous woman that Dazai has been talking about nonstop for two weeks,” she says, ignoring how Dazai looks like he wants to wither as you raise your eyebrows at him. “Blink twice if you need help.”

Dazai looks appalled now. “Yosano-sensei,” he complains, “That’s so-”

You pointedly blink twice. Yosano barks out a laugh and nearly chokes over it, Dazai gasps again, louder and far more dismayed. He slumps over your shoulder, burying his face into the top of your head.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he grumbles, voice muffled against your hair.

You pat his waist as another man approaches the group of you, blonde hair tied back neatly in a ponytail and glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. His eyes are sharp and narrowed as he looks at where Dazai is draping himself all over you. “Oi, you shitty waste of bandages, have some decorum, would you? We're at a government event, stop throwing yourself at people.”

Dazai perks up, that unscrupulous smile instantly returning as his gaze focuses on the blonde. “Kunikida-kuuun,” he now sings the other man’s name, arm slipping around your waist to tug you into his side as he says. “Come meet my date. She’s a grad student at Waseda University.”

You have a distinct feeling that he’s rubbing it in Kunikida’s face, and from the way the man’s expression twists in genuine surprise at Dazai’s words, you figure that said feeling is correct. Kunikida turns his attention toward you. “And you’re with him?” he asks so distastefully that you almost laugh. “How did you even meet him?”

You give Dazai a side-eye, considering whether or not you should tell the truth. You notice the pleading expression on his face and squint, but before you can make your decision, he speaks up, voice loud and exaggerated: “A fateful encounter under the moonlit shore of the Zushi Beach, we stumbled into each other as if guided by the hand of god himself. I-”

Suspicious now of the sideways explanation he’s giving about your own meeting with him, and recalling the tale he regaled you of his meeting with the very boy standing a few feet away from you, you cut off Dazai and turn to Atsushi. “Atsushi-kun, how did you and Dazai meet?”

Dazai flounders, hands flying in front of as if to wave Atsushi off from answering, but Atsushi only scowls and says, “I had to jump into the Tsurumi River to free him from where he was floating upside down in a barrel trying to drown himself. Then he had the nerve to yell at me for it.”

Pointedly, you look at Dazai, who at least has the decency to look sheepish as he glances at you. “I did take him out to dinner after though,” he offers.

“With my money,” Kunikida rages loudly and Dazai throws his head back with a loud sigh of complaint.

“None of you have my back. Not a single one of you,” Dazai accuses. “I would be a good wingman for you guys.”

Kunikida looks downright insulted. “You are the opposite of a wingman,” he spits. “In fact, you go out of your way to embarrass me in front of women, you lousy liar-”

“I will not have you make me look bad because you’re jealous any longer,” Dazai proclaims, holding his hand up as if to silence Kunikida.

“Jealous?” Kunikida booms after Dazai, but Dazai is already dragging you away, stealing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one over to you with a misleadingly innocent smile.

“It’s true, he’s jealous,” Dazai says, lacing his fingers into yours as he idly walks around the event hall with you, sipping at his champagne. “He has fifty-eight criteria for his ideal woman, you fit at least forty of them. He’s probably soooo mad you’re here with me.”

You blink and look at Dazai, wondering if you heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, what?” you ask with a laugh. “Fifty-eight-”

“Criteria, yeah,” Dazai confirms, “and he wonders why he can’t get a girlfriend—blames it on me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sure you don’t help.”

Dazai pouts but then his amusement fades a bit as his eyes scan the crowd of people, dark eyes taking upon an uncharacteristically serious visage. His lips tighten and the corner of his eyes wrinkle as he squints, as if something about the whole event is bothering him.

“You okay?” you ask and Dazai looks at you, a bit startled.

“Yeah,” he says, and you watch as he smooths his face out—as if you’d seen something you weren’t supposed to see and now he was trying to play it off and pretend you didn’t. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You’ve noticed over the past two weeks, as you’ve gotten to know Dazai Osamu a bit better, that he’s far more complex than he likes to portray himself to be. He puts on a theatrical show with bright smiles, loud words and over-exaggerated clownlike behavior, and he’s very good at making sure that the mask he puts on rarely wavers. You’ve only caught it faltering a few times, including that first time you met when you’d woken up in the middle of the night and caught his empty expression as he stared out into the storm.

He doesn’t take well to people pointing it out though, you’ve realized. You tried to once a week ago when you caught him looking a bit lost and alone at a picture you had of you and two of your friends at a bar downtown. He’d broken into your apartment, as you’ve grown unfortunately used to over the past two weeks, and he was waiting for you to get back from class, snooping around while he waited. You weren’t supposed to be back until much later but your five o’clock class had been canceled, and he was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard you enter your apartment until you were a few feet away and asking if he was okay.

He promptly fled with a half-assed excuse about an urgent mission and he didn’t come back to your apartment for two days. When he finally did, he acted like nothing happened. You think that it’s not really your right to push and you don’t want to step over any boundary of his, but a part of you is starting to long to figure out what exactly is behind the mask he wears and that scares you. You find yourself smiling a bit too much whenever Dazai is around, your face always feels a bit hotter and your brain always feels a bit fuzzy—the tell-tale signs of falling are starting to appear and you want to know the man behind the carefully constructed mask before you start to fall only to realize that there’s no one there to catch you.

“You looked a bit lost in thought,” you finally say, testing the words on your tongue and scanning his face to see if even that would be too much of a push for him.

It is.

“You see right through me, don’t you?” He laughs it off as a joke, but you can all but taste the bitterness in his tone and you can see the mirth thinly veiled behind his eyes. “I’ll be right back, the boss is calling me over.”

Dazai doesn’t wait for you to respond, he tosses you a wink and another casual smile before he sets off across the room but you aren’t fooled by the faux-charm this time, knowing that he’s fleeing because you got a bit too close to asking something that he doesn’t want to answer. Lifting your champagne glass back to your lips, you idly watch him make his way over to a handsome, silver-haired man who’s in deep discussion with a young man with messy black hair.

You sigh and wave over a server to grab another flute of champagne before you even finish the one in hand, disappointment sweeping through you as you realize that the night is likely going to be a very, very long one.

You’re finishing your fourth glass when you hear someone call your last name and pause a bit in confusion, turning around to face a tall middle-aged man with graying hair. Your eyes widen a bit as you recognize Tonan Tanzo, the Vice Minister of Justice, making his way toward you with a glass of wine in hand.

“Tonan-san,” you greet, nodding your head a bit in respect for the older man, who you spoke to briefly at the Ministry’s panel at your university a week and a half ago. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you,” the man replies distantly, more a nicety than anything else. “I must say, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. You’re acquainted with the Armed Detective Agency?”

There’s an edge to his voice, one that you’re not sure if you like. You wonder if he has an issue with the Agency, but you don’t see why he would, they’ve been nothing but helpful in fostering peace in the city.

You only smile idly. “Vaguely,” you respond, not giving away all too much. You wonder if Dazai knows anything about whatever the man’s issue is—you’d have to ask him later.

Tonan hums, as if your answer wasn’t satisfactory, and then he says, “I was meaning to email you about the internship you were hoping for under Minister Hasegawa—all of the chaos of the past week has prevented me from doing so. I’ll be sure to do so by the end of this week so we can work to finalize something for winter break and the summer. Perhaps we can figure something out with your schedule to get you some training at the office before the semester ends.”

Your lips part a bit in shock at the suddenness of the offer but you school your expression quickly, mind racing as you force out, “I would appreciate that very much, Tonan-san. I’m sure we can work something out.”

Tonan Tanzo only hums again, nodding at you once before his eyes flicker up above you, a bit distastefully, just as you feel fingers brush your lower back. Tonan doesn’t even bother to greet Dazai as he turns to leave with a faint parting to you. You look up at Dazai, whose expression is cold as he stares after Tonan until the man disappears down a nearby hall.

“What was that about?” Dazai asks, the cold expression melting as soon as he looks down at you, dark eyes warm and curious as if he hadn’t just abandoned you for almost an hour. You almost feel a bit flustered beneath the gentle stare. Almost.

“I think he just offered me the job I was trying to get at the Ministry?” you say, still a bit dazed. “Although, I don’t think it’s necessarily because he wants me there, but it doesn’t really matter, I just need it for my resume.”

“Hm,” Dazai says to himself before his lips flicker up into a smile. “Well, congratulations are in order, I suppose. Good thing I grabbed us some more champagne.”

He lifts his other hand pointedly, showing off the two flutes he’d grabbed on the way back and you grin a bit, taking one from him, feeling a bit giddy now even though you’re pretty sure Tonan only hit you with the offer because of your affiliation with the Armed Detective Agency.

“You should probably slow down,” you note as you sip your own glass. “You’re on like seven now.”

“I’m fine, and you have no room to talk,” Dazai shoots you a playful smile. “Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, eyes widening as Dazai takes the glass from you before you even take a second sip, placing it down on a nearby table with his as he grabs your arm and drags you to the center of the room, onto a dancefloor that nobody is using. “Dazai, no.”

“Dazai, yes,” he corrects with a wild grin and your face is aflame as eyes begin to turn in the direction of the two of you, curious as to what’s going on.

You want to die when Dazai forcibly spins you under his arm, much like that night out on the streets of Yokohama when the two of you ended up drenched and muddy except now there were dozens of eyes on you whereas then, people were more focused on trying to get to cover from the torrential downpour.

“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, embarrassment flooding through you because for as thin as Dazai is, he’s deceptively strong and you cannot break free of the grip he has on your hand and waist.

“Please,” he breathes out longingly. “A death at your hands would-”

“Stop.”

Dazai pouts, and then as if punishment for interrupting him, Dazai launches you into a dramatic dip, leaning down with a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat’s to shame as he nudges his nose against yours before pulling you back up and spinning you beneath his arm again.

“This is embarrassing,” you say, but Dazai is paying no mind to the attention that the two of you are gaining—in fact, he looks utterly pleased with himself. “I-”

“Look! Yosano-sensei and Atsushi-kun are joining us!” Dazai cheers, turning the two of you just enough so that you can catch sight of Yosano physically dragging a protesting Atsushi out onto the near-empty dance floor.

“Yosano-sensei, please, I’ve never danced before,” Atsushi pleads, tugging his wrist away from the older woman but her grip is iron clad as she tugs the boy toward her, taking the lead in a wide ballroom dance.

“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai sings. “Don’t look so nervous.”

Atsushi shoots Dazai a withering look, clearly blaming him for the unfortunate turn of events, and you relax a bit as you realize that Yosano pulling Atsushi onto the dance floor triggered a wave of several others: a dark-haired girl dragging an orange-haired boy onto the floor, the president of the Agency holding a hand out to a young girl who keeps shooting longing looks in the direction of the people dancing, a few older couples.

“See, everyone was just too nervous to be the first,” Dazai preens, tugging you close as he shifts from a wide and theatrical ballroom dance to a slower and more intimate one.

Your breath catches as he wraps an arm around your waist, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your lower back as his hand flattens. His other hand slips from where it’s intertwined with your to join his right on your waist. You’re so close to him that you can smell the faint scent of champagne on his breath as you loop your arms around his neck with a small smile.

Dazai’s dark eyes are glittering as he looks down at you, warm as melted honey and soft as velvet, you’re almost entranced. His lips are curved up into a gentle smile—you think you want to kiss him, and you swallow nervously as soon as the thought crosses your mind. You also think he might be able to read your mind, because his smile becomes a bit more mischievous as he leans down.

He doesn’t kiss you, but you think he might as well from how close he is to you—you swear that his lips are all but brushing yours. You feel a bit dizzy, and although there are enough people swaying and spinning around the two of you that you don’t really have to worry about any attention being on the two of you, you still feel a bit flustered by the thought of so many possibly seeing this.

“Now, do I get my kiss?” he whispers, and your lips part to respond but no words leave them. You think that’s dangerous because you definitely should not kiss him right now but your brain will not cooperate in formulating the words. Dazai lets out a small puff of laughter, his breath is warm against your lips and you want to kiss him even more—dangerous, you think again. “Fine, fine, I’ll wait just a bit longer.”

He doesn’t back away though and your heart feels like it’s lodged in your throat as he hums along quietly to the music playing, swaying back and forth with you tucked neatly in your arms. You think this is far too intimate for two people who aren’t even technically dating (you won’t admit that you’d been questioning it earlier with how often he frequents your apartment and his casual intimacy with you and felt a bit embarrassed when he made his comment about his proteges being in a relationship before him), and you think you should probably back away, but instead you find your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

There’s something indecipherable in his eyes—conflicted and confused, but with a far heavier emotion thinly veiled behind it, something caught between longing and adoration but with a hint of melancholy. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you figure that now’s not the time and he’ll probably just blow you off in the same way he did before.

So instead, you just give him a small smile and watch as his dark eyes widen a fraction at the action—you wonder if he realized that you noticed that something’s up with him and more importantly, you wonder if you weren’t supposed to notice. With bated breath, you wait to see whether or not he’s going to close off.

Around the two of you, the President lifts his arm to let the young girl spin beneath it, Atsushi is still letting out panicked protests as he and Yosano sweep across the dancefloor, an older couple laughs loudly as the man dips her and the teenage girl with dark hair is giggling as she takes the lead in the dance with the orange-haired boy.

Dazai doesn’t react for what feels like an eternity.

But then he smiles—it’s light and soft around the edges, matching your own, and though that indecipherable look is still in his eyes, maybe even more wistful now, you can’t help but notice that his shoulders feel much less tense beneath your arms.

You consider it a win.

Dazai thinks that he might be in trouble.

His gaze lingers on you as you make your way across the room in the direction of where Atsushi and Kyouka are talking. Atsushi had waved you over after everyone finally made their way off of the dance floor, Dazai’s a bit insulted because Atsushi and Kyouka both made it abundantly clear that they only wanted you to join them, which Dazai thinks is quite rude but what does he know?

And Dazai’s heart is racing, his cheeks feel warm, his lips are tingling, and he wants to blame it on the alcohol but he knows deep down that the alcohol is not the issue, you are.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The thought rings through his head as he watches you walk away, eyes tracing your figure while an emotion that borders on longing wreaks havoc on his heart. His throat feels clogged with it, his lungs feel as if they’re filled with ash. You make it to Atsushi and Kyouka and Atsushi is immediately talking, animated and excited.

He thinks you look beautiful—you’re wearing a red dress and it clings as if it was made perfectly for you even though he’s pretty sure it’s a dress you’d found on Uniqlo’s clearance racks, he remembers you raving about your luck with it last week, and as you look over your shoulder in his direction, your eyes glitter as brightly as the rhinestones sitting on your collarbone, teeth gleaming as you smile at whatever Atsushi is saying to you. Dazai doesn’t dare to ponder what his protege could possibly be telling you to make you look at him like that, he doubts it’s anything good, but he finds that he doesn’t even really care because he thinks that he’d sacrifice all of his pride and dignity if it means you’d continue to smile like that in his direction.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It was meant to be a little fun once he realized that you were just a civilian with no connection to the underground—a distraction, a way to gloat a bit to Kunikida because of course Dazai can pull a girl that fits almost every single one of the man’s ideals while Kunikida himself can hardly dream of it. He convinced himself that he was playing a long game by spending every waking second outside of work at your apartment, wooing you so that he could get a kick out of Kunikida’s inevitable explosion. He convinced himself that the fluttering in his chest whenever you laughed at him was just some strange heart palpitations that have arisen as a chronic consequence of one of his attempts, paying no mind to the fact that it only happens when he’s with you. He convinced himself that his face is warm whenever he’s around you because of the weather even when the temperature chills and the wind is bitter.

But it’s hard to convince himself now—his lips tingle from where they’d just barely been brushing yours, there are goosebumps on his skin where your fingers had once been, and the image of your smile is branded behind his eyelids, the gentleness of it and the understanding. And he thinks it’s ridiculous honestly, because he doesn’t think that there’s anyone left in the world that could possibly understand him, but since that first day he met you, you’ve seemed to be able to see through him in a way that few people have ever been able to, going out of your way to try to make him feel more comfortable in a way that no one ever has.

When did he start to…

He can’t even finish the thought because acknowledging it means that it’s real and if it’s real, then Dazai is in trouble because Dazai is not a man who is capable of love anymore—or maybe he still is capable of love, or something close to it at least, what he feels for the members of the Agency proves that at least, but he’s not a man who’s capable of being loved.

Not for who he is.

Even if you do fall for the facade he puts up—the smiling jester who laughs and jokes and never lets anyone close enough to realize that the only thing within him is a black hole that consumes anything and everything he touches—you’ll realize one day that the man you fell for is a fraud and you’d leave. Dazai has been left behind once, in a way that was so excruciating that it’d almost entirely killed off Dazai’s withered heart, and he’s decided that he’ll never be the one left behind again. He’ll run before people can leave him, and he’ll keep everyone else at arm’s length. He’s probably wrong anyway; he doesn’t care for you, not like that, the line between obsession and love has always been dangerously blurry for him. He-

“Atsushi’s taken to her pretty fast, don’t you think?”

Dazai starts at the sudden sound of Yosano coming to stand next to him, a half-empty glass of wine in hand. There’s a lazy smile on her face as she watches where you, Atsushi and Kyouka are all chatting—well, you and Atsushi, mostly, but Kyouka seems enraptured in whatever conversation the two of you are having.

“Yeah,” Dazai agrees, and his voice is a bit more rough than he meant for it to be. He pointedly takes another long swig of his drink. “That’s a first.”

“Isn’t it?” Yosano laughs loudly, drawing some attention to the pair. “A good sign, he’s got pretty good instincts.”

Yosano nudges his shoulder playfully but Dazai can hardly gather the energy to mask the sudden and unwelcome sorrow weighing on him. He manages, if only scarcely, but it’s unconvincing if the way Yosano’s brows furrowed has anything to say about it.

He speaks before she can question it in an attempt to distract her from her concerns. “She’s quite the catch, I know. My sweet bella, if only she would join me in a double suicide, I don’t think I could even dream up a better way to go.”

Yosano only waves off his comment, and Dazai knows that she’s right—maybe it’s his tiger senses or maybe it’s just his intuition, but Atsushi usually has a good eye for good people. His lack of reservation around you, when he was even reserved around the Agency at first, is certainly a nice sign, even if it is partly because he’s had a few glasses of champagne. But Dazai also just can’t find it in him to be pleased over it because yeah, it confirms that you’re a good person but Dazai, no matter how hard he tries to be, is not one and he’s not sure if anything will ever change that.

The thickness in his throat returns, his eyes flutter shut momentarily as he tries to regain some semblance of control over himself.

When he opens his eyes again, his gaze instinctively is drawn back toward you and-

Oh, Dazai thinks, his breath catching and lips instinctively turning up as he watches you start to giggle and lean into Kyouka, who must have finally joined the conversation, while looking over at him. There’s a hazy look in your eyes, courtesy of the constant stream of champagne Dazai has been supplying you with all night, but you can’t seem to draw your eyes off of Dazai and Dazai can’t seem to draw his from you.

Yosano nudges his shoulder again to try to get his attention but Dazai can’t look away from you so he hums as if to tell her that she has his attention—if only partly.

“Enjoy it, Dazai,” Yosano says quietly and Dazai finally glances over to her, catching the oddly coherent look in what should’ve been drunken, glazed over eyes. “Don’t sabotage this for yourself. Enjoy it.”

Dazai thinks maybe he was wrong about you being one of few to be able to see right through him. Maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks he is—or maybe it’s just his shared connection to Yosano through Mori that has her able to read him so easily. He avoids Yosano’s gaze as he looks back out into the crowds. Naturally, he finds himself seeking you out again, and you’re already looking at him. There’s a soft expression on your face as you admire him, not having realized he’d caught you staring yet, and you look as if you’re barely listening to what Atsushi is saying, and Dazai’s heart seizes because no one has ever looked at him that way before.

Well, he decides, maybe Yosano is right. He might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Once you realize that the front he shows you is just a mask to hide the rotting carcass that lies beneath, you’ll turn tail and run, and then everything can go back to normal again. He just can’t let himself get more attached than he already is—that way it won’t hurt when you leave.

Dazai catches his lips turning up as he watches you start giggling at something Atsushi and Kyouka say, Dazai’s heart does that damning flutter again, and immediately, he averts his gaze.

Still, he thinks, he’s far too sober for this.

Later in the night, when people have begun to say their goodbyes and you start to make your way to the restrooms to freshen up before heading out, Dazai corners you against the wall of the hall leading out of the event venue. You don’t even hear him following you or notice his presence until you feel his fingers snatch your wrist as he yanks you back toward him.

Your eyes widen but you’re able to bite back the yelp that nearly escapes your lips when you recognize his dark eyes looking down at you, mischievous and glittering beneath the soft lights.

“Do I get my kiss now?” Dazai breathes out. The wall behind you is cool against your back, and you can hear the chatter from the event down the hall as the event begins to come to an end. You part your lips to respond to him, with what? You aren’t entirely sure, but it doesn’t seem to matter because no words leave your lips regardless. “The party’s over, no need to worry about messing up that pretty makeup now, bella.”

“Only one,” you finally say, voice a bit more throaty than you would have liked but it’s hard to concentrate with Dazai’s fingers grazing your hips and his body brushing yours. You wonder if the man has ever learned about the concept of personal space—you severely doubt it. “Make it good, and maybe you can have a second.”

The smile on Dazai’s lips is nothing short of sinful as he brings one hand up to cup the side of your neck, thumb running along your jawline and fingers entangling with your hair. He doesn’t waste a second as he dips his head down to press his lips against yours, they’re warm and soft, and taste distinctly like the champagne that had been served earlier in the night. You let out a quiet noise of surprise against his lips, eyes fluttering shut.

The kiss is tamer than you expected it to be—he makes no move to deepen it, lips moving slowly and gently against yours as if he’s hesitant to take it any further, but Dazai Osamu has never been hesitant about anything in all of the times you've encountered him. Your hands rest on his forearms as he keeps you pressed up against the wall, unconcerned with the fact that all of his coworkers and many government officials are naught but half a hallway away.

You think to yourself, a bit embarrassed, that you might be able to spend an eternity kissing Dazai Osamu and never grow tired of it, and you wonder why it's taken you so long just to give in to his request from nearly a month ago.

You aren’t sure if ten seconds, ten minutes or ten hours have passed by the time he finally separates his lips from yours. He doesn’t move far away at all—his nose still nudging yours, his soft lips still brushing your own, he leaves no space at all between the two of you as he asks: “Good enough for a second?”

Your lips curve up into a smile, eyes meeting his dark ones as you look up at him through your lashes. Though, you have half a mind to agree, your previous thoughts still ringing through your head, you can't help the teasing words that spilled from your lips: “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll sleep on it and let you know my answer the next time we see each other.”

The laugh that Dazai lets out is breathless.

“Deal.”

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

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hotpinkstars · 1 month

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WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)

-> blinded mistakes - happy ending

synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?

a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm

warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!

w/c -> 951

-> kamisato ayato

it’s been a few days since the argument.

ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.

once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.

you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.

he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.

“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.

“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”

he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form.

he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.

“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression.

“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”

you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”

he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”

“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”

he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in.

“i’m not ruining this suit, right…?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer.

he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

-> wriothesley

it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident.

he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.

“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”

he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”

she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom.

you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening.

“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.

“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”

you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?”

he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly.

“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”

you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie.

“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.

“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #ayato #kamisato #kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato #ayato kamisato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato x reader

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

hiii!! i love your writing so much i think i’ve read every single thing you’ve ever posted. i’m genuinely obsessed 🫶🫶 i was wondering if you could write something where the reader and remus have been dating/talking for a little while and she hasn’t had her first kiss yet and she starts to get nervous everytime she thinks he’s abt to kiss her and she runs away?? i’m ngl this is based off of very real events in my life 😭😭

i love you so much!! hope your doing amazing

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! This is soooo relatable of you haha, I have a library of hilarious stories about my very hyper friend who kept literally springing away from guys she liked who were trying to kiss her, but it does make for some very interesting (and often very sweet) conversations!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

On your first official date with Remus, the two of you went to a drive-in movie. You kept your seatbelt on the entire time.

You only realized halfway through, mentally kicking yourself for being so jittery you’d lost all sense of normalcy, but by then it felt too late. It’d be awkward to take it off halfway through the movie, try to play that off as casual. You’d made your bed. You didn’t unbuckle until Remus dropped you off at your house at the end of the night.

On your second date, you’re determined to be less uptight. You want him to know that you really do like him, even if your nerves make you jump and flinch whenever he gets close. At the Italian restaurant, it’s difficult to find a pasta dish without garlic, but you manage it. You’re a girl with an agenda. The two of you split a chocolate cake for dessert. It’s delicious, probably, though you can’t focus on much besides Remus’ story and the way his mouth moves as he tells it. How he tucks one corner of his bottom lip between his teeth when he’s trying to hide a smile.

You have to hope belatedly that you haven’t somehow smeared chocolate all over your face while eating. You’re not at all confident you would’ve noticed.

It’s a short walk back to your place, and you manage to jabber the whole way, a masterclass in self-sabotage. Remus doesn’t seem to mind, his hand light and cordial on your back as he guides you up the steps to your door. You savor the touch. It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to spring away.

“It sounds really interesting,” he says graciously as you finish your tangent about the book you’ve just read. “I’ll have to pick up a copy.”

“I can lend you mine,” you offer. “Maybe I can bring it the next time we hang out?” Your voice tips up hopefully at the end of the question, and warmth touches your cheeks.

A similar pinkening spreads across Remus’ freckles. He smiles at you, the scar across his lip stretching. You’re spellbound.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You might be imagining it, but you could swear his eyes flit to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says. “I really like talking to you.”

Your voice is soft. “I like talking to you, too.”

He takes a step towards you, and it’s like your muscles stage a coup. You take an involuntary step backward, a smile plastering itself uncomfortably on your face.

“Thanks for everything,” you say brightly. “Goodnight!”

You spin and go for the door handle, and you’re nearly inside before you hear Remus’ quiet “Wait.”

You turn. Lead in your bones.

Remus is holding his palms up as if to show you he’s got no weapon.

“Sorry,” he says, “I just wanted to…you know I’d never do anything you didn’t want me to, right?”

You’re frozen stiff.

“Like, even if I thought there was a chance you didn’t want to, I would never…” He shakes his head, looking lost. Guilt settles like a stone in your gut. “I guess I’m a bit confused. If you don’t want to do anything, that’s completely fine, but sometimes it seems like you want me to kiss you, and then you don’t…”

“Rem,” you say. You feel like you’re breathing through a straw. “Remus, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart, it’s not your fault—”

“No, it is. It’s not—I don’t want you to think I’m scared of you or anything. I’m not, it’s just, I get skittish.” You can’t make yourself look at his eyes, your gaze stuck just shy of his chin. Your face feels aflame. “It’s not you. I’m just nervous.”

“Oh.” It’s a soft thing, more exhale than anything. Then his fingers curl under your chin, tipping your face up. “Well, you can relax, love. I was never going to make a move unless I got a clear signal from you first. But we can just take that off the table completely, if you’d like.” He gives you a small, gentle smile. “I only want you to feel comfortable.”

Your heart zings right up into your throat. “I do feel comfortable,” you blurt. “I don’t want it off the table.”

Remus’ eyebrows flick upwards. “You don’t?”

“No,” you murmur, bashful.

His eyebrows come slowly back down, puckering slightly as he tries to figure you out. His eyes narrow until his lashes kiss. His tongue pokes into his cheek, just a little. You miss nothing. You find yourself taking in a quiet breath, steeling yourself.

You move across that tiny bit of air between you and find him there waiting.

It’s everything you could’ve hoped for and yet startlingly simple. Remus’ lips are warm and soft, pressing into yours with an intensity that you suspect is nonetheless restrained for your benefit. He tastes like chocolate cake.

His mouth meanders over to the corner of your lips, granting one quick peck to your cheek before making its way back to the center of your mouth, reverent. He backs away slowly, easing you out of it.

“Wasn’t really expecting that,” he admits.

“Me neither. Was it alright?” Your voice is a bit breathy. “I’ve never done that before.”

For a moment, he’s quiet.

“That was your first kiss?”

You swallow, rubbing your lips together as you nod.

“Sweetheart,” he grins, “you’re a natural.”

A giggle spurts out of you, dizzy with the taste of him and the novelty of it all. “You mean it?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He mimes drawing a cross over his heart. It occurs to you that you both seem infinitely more at ease than you have since dinner. The corner of Remus’ bottom lip goes between his teeth, his cheek dimpling. “I mean, there is something to be said for practice, though.”

You don’t fight your own grin; it comes out in full force. “Mm, I think I’ve heard something about that. Practice makes…defective, right? Something like that.”

“C’mere.” Remus rolls his eyes at you, but as his arms wrap around you his smile mirrors yours.

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waxingrunes · 6 months

Text

Ghostface Thriller

This was supposed to be my original fully fleshed out Halloween gig but I changed my mind at the eleventh hour to something else. I only have these very rough shallow sketches to offer that started the whole thing. Read on for a little texting excerpt of their conversation from this moment.

And for one single (quite tame?) Ao3 continuation.

Sirius: you know, this whole conversation is just proving more and more disappointing ghostie

Ghost: Why’s that.

Sirius: well

Sirius: the more you talk the more you

Sirius: this is gonna sound weird but you know when you can grow attracted to the way someone sounds without ever seeing their face? the way they hold themselves like through the screen, the way they talj

Sirius: talk*

Ghost: Are you about to tell me you’re crushing on me, pretty?

Sirius: i mean

Sirius: im telling you i think the way you talk is attractive and despite the damning circumstances you’re actually kinda smart

Sirius: you have to be to get away with the sick shit you do :)

Ghost: Mm, nobody’s made me blush before.

Sirius: me calling you a sick shit made you blush?

Ghost: And sent a jolt straight to my c*** little pretty.

Sirius: romantic

Ghost: Struggling to understand what’s disappointing about any of this.

Sirius: oh right

Sirius: well it’s just you sound hot but obviously you’re not actually you know

Sirius: hot

A moment passes where Sirius swaps the phone between one clammy palm to the other, doubting his turn of phrase with the radio silence that’d been dealt.

Staring at the bottom of the screen he waited another whole minute for the three dots to appear, which was excellent restraint in his books, before huffing out a breath through his nose and yielding.

Sirius: no ten wears a mask

Sirius: if you were as attractive as your fancy words make you sound you’d make it known

Ghost: You’re trying to unmask me through the phone and here I was thinking I was the pervert.

Sirius: doesn’t pretty get at least one photo

Sirius: of something? anything? to aid my crush :(

Ghost: Ask nicely.

Sirius readjusted, looking up to the ceiling as if he was going to find some sort of resolve there. What wasn’t yet clear, was whether it was the weight of the situation that was getting to his head and making his tummy swoop with this roleplay he’d voluntarily landed himself in, or, he really had a fucking crush.

Wetting his lips, he swallowed and was already blindly tapping out his response before his eyes fell to it again.

Sirius: please ghostie

Moments passed. Deadweight moments where Sirius convinced himself his shadow was moving on its own accord. In reality it was a handful of seconds but it felt like minutes, ticking by with the faint feeling of something hot dripping down the back of his throat.

Ghost: I don’t make a habit of sending selfies to my toys.

Sirius stared at the photo. It was his time to go quiet now, for reasons he planned to take to the grave; an event which may end up closing in sooner than anticipated if he plays his cards wrong.

Ghost: Tick-Tock, pretty. What you looking at?

The bastard.

Sirius: not much apparently

Sirius: i mean nothing i haven’t seen before apart from your legs

Sirius: never seen those out before

Ghost: You a leg man?

Against his will, Sirius giggled. Flushed in an instance from shame and shock and the feeling of very sudden self-awareness, but still had to swallow the tail end of it.

Sirius: am i going to get anything else more

Sirius: motivating

Sirius: i’ve been good all week and followed your orders

Sirius: i haven’t argued

Ghost: Oh, pretty. Come on now.

Sirius: okay but

Sirius: wouldn’t you get bored if i made it easy

Ghost: Clever boy.

Sirius squeezed his legs together, sinking further into the cushions.

Sirius: then reward me

Sirius: please

Sirius: please please please

Ghost: You’ll get what you want soon, but for now…

Another picture came through and for a sharp second, Sirius hesitated. It wouldn’t be his face, surely. He knew that and yet the moment felt pivotal either way as he hovered his thumb over the attachment and tried levelling his rattling heart.

He opened it, simultaneously losing feeling in his fingers and gaining it elsewhere.

Ghost: I wasn’t kidding about that jolt, not that hard yet but you’re doing a good job pretty.

Picture no.2

#tumblr is going to hide this #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #ghostface #happy Halloween part one i guess #my art

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the-oblivious-writer · 20 days

Text

Let The Light |7|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Seven: Tis' The Damn Season

Summary: After that eventful night at Tara's apartment, you find yourself pondering on a few things, but your banter with Tara never ceases. There is enough on your plate as it is, so when you bump into a familiar face it catches you completely off guard

Warning(s): Swearing, making out, mentions of drinking & intoxication, r has a case of bad communication, chemistry (like the actual subject 😣), compulsions, & implied anxiety

Notes: I took over a year off to cut you readers some slack, tell a friend to tell a friend - she's baackkk! 🤭 Ik you missed these stubborn little jerks, so did I. Also not this chapter being at like 10k+ words. Even then, there was a bunch more I wanted to add but I figured I'd save it for the next chapter (already plotting) I didn't wanna keep you waiting any longer than I already have

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The box of pizza and plate of wings sat completely abandoned, forgotten, on Charlotte’s coffee table as her hands traveled to your neck. You let your own hands drop to her hips, pulling her in. Her lips felt soft, yet foreign. You ignored that thought and continued to kiss her, slipping in your tongue while she maneuvered her way onto your lap.

Everything felt hot, you could feel your face heat up as she ever so slightly played with the hem of your shirt. When you gave her the silent signal, she slipped a hand under your shirt—not too high of course, but enough to feel your hips. You felt goosebumps at her touch, suddenly feeling nervous. You once again pushed any negative thoughts to the back of your mind, continuing to kiss her.

That’s when it clicked. Why you got so nervous all of a sudden, your mind was trying to tell you something, warn you.

You separated from her lips. She looked at you, a confused expression on her face. You weren’t meeting her eye line, feeling rather timid at the moment. “Are you okay?” She asked you. You barely heard her with your heartbeat drumming so loudly in your ears.

“Um…” You cleared your throat, still not meeting her gaze. “Yeah… I just—sorry.” Charlotte’s expression stayed put as you managed to remove yourself from the couch.

“Did I do something?” She asked, moving to also stand up. She looked at you with what you could only describe as confusion and concern. You couldn’t blame her one bit—one second you’re all over each other, the next you’re pulling back like she stung you.

“No—no, no, no,” you shook your head while gesturing with your right hand. “You did nothing wrong. I um,” you finally looked to meet her gaze, “it’s just been awhile, I guess.” You could only hope she didn’t see through your lame excuse, it wasn’t completely untrue.

“Oh,” Charlotte said. “…Oh,” she then repeated when she realized what you meant. “Shit, I didn’t push you did I?”

“I promise you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve just been in a weird place …for a while,” you shrugged, not expecting to add that last part, your tone getting lower as you spoke those words.

“I get it,” she mustered an understanding tone.

A suffocating silence enveloped the room for a few seconds, causing you to look out the nearby window to be met with pitch darkness.

“It’s actually getting pretty late anyways and I’ve got an early shift in the morning…” You said while slowly getting your jacked that hung from the couch.

“Of course. Call me?”

“Yeah,” you briefly smiled at her while adjusting the collar of your jacket. “Sorry, again, for making things awkward,” you apologized while grabbing the last of your things.

“No, don’t worry about it. Stuff happens,” she waved you off while managing a reassuring tone.

You nodded at her before muttering, “thanks,” and finally leaving the apartment. As soon as you walked out into the crisp night air, you exhaled your own pocket of air you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

That’s when it all came crashing down; the awkwardness, stupidness, and cringyness that came from the situation all because you were scared to let your situationship see your scars.

Nice going.

You repeated words like moron, idiot, and dumbass while you walked to your car—the train of thought never breaking as you drove to your apartment. Manhattan’s late-night traffic didn’t exactly ease your frustration. You were in the middle of cursing out the car in front of you when your phone started to ring.

Still feeling ridiculously stupid, you were going to let it just ring out, but that was before you saw the contact name.

You answered the phone. “Tara?” You immediately asked with furrowed eyebrows. Why on earth is she calling you so late?

“Y/NN,” you heard her slur over the phone. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, immediately realizing what you were about to be in for. Before you could get another word out, she interrupted you. “Have I ever told you you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts?”

Your eyes widened as heat rushed to your face, your hands nearly slipping off the wheel. The tips of your ears suddenly began to feel very warm while your mouth opened and closed a few times before you could get sound to come out.

“I—uh,” you cleared your throat before continuing. “Where are you right now?”

“Hommee. Where else?” Her answer was followed by hiccups.

“I’m coming over,” you said firmly before hanging up. Being distracted any further by her voice was the last thing you needed right now. You silently hoped nothing drastic was waiting for you at her apartment as you changed your route.

When were you going to stop jinxing things?

—

It had now been a few weeks since the night at Tara’s apartment took place. Not long after you put her to bed, you gave yourself some time to reflect on her words. And ever since that night, you have been repeating them in your head whenever you were with the Carpenter. It seems as though she was able to move on easily, at least, her silence on the topic made it appear that way. On the outside, you gave the impression that you too had moved on from that night, that it had not affected you whatsoever. But on the inside, you were in emotional turmoil. With replaying your memories, that same tightening feeling in your chest that you felt that night reappeared.

There were so many key points of that night to completely crumble over; for starters, the incident with Charlotte. You are beyond embarrassed thanks to your repulsion for emotional intimacy. You knew if she saw your scars questions would ensue, thus putting you in an uncomfortable position to spill your guts out. The last thing you needed was for that to happen, but that alone had you thinking.

You’ve been on over four dates with Charlotte now and you have no idea where you stand with her. She’s just a situation-ship as of right now, and for all you know she could be seeing this as more. But the thought of asking her where you stand with her makes you emotionally grimace and cause your stomach to churn.

If you can’t even talk to her about your relationship status, should you even continue seeing her? This question had you thinking even further. Maybe you rushed into this relationship, maybe it was far too soon. Was nearly a year too soon?

That was the last time you were in a relationship, the last time you allowed yourself any form of emotional intimacy with a partner. But that was the result of three years, three years of building trust and connection. It was going to take a lot more than just a few dates with someone you don’t truly know to recreate that. It was going to take effort.

As for the Tara part of that night, you didn’t even know where to begin. Where could you? From her compliments to her insults, the night was certainly an eventful one. And just to think, you had seen her just hours before and there hadn’t seemed to be any issues.

The coming semester is certainly going to be an interesting one.

—

You and Tara were in your apartment, huffing and groaning could be heard throughout your room. She sat cross legged at the edge of your bed while you were leaned up against the headboard. Papers sprawled all over the bed, pens and pencils scattered—almost imitating what the inside of your mind currently looked like.

“Was the first sheet you gave me—was it nine or seven?!”

You let out a huff, mixed with a long sigh, at Tara’s repeated question. After running a hand down your face, you slid closer beside her to get a better look at her paper. “This is table nine right here,” you emphasized by rapidly tapping your pencil on the spot of the paper you wanted her to focus on.

She rolled her eyes as she mumbled, “Oh my god—” She turned her head to looked at you as she huffed, “Answer my fucking question with a yes or a no; was it a yes—was it a nine or a seven?”

You muttered a few curses under your breath—curses you knew she heard because of your close proximity—before taking your pencil to her paper once again. “Alright, okay so I’m gonna circle this—”

“What the fuck—?!”

“This is—this is nine,” you glanced at her for a moment to make sure she was paying attention. All you were met with was a dumbfounded look.

“But what’s the top??”

“That’s table seven.”

There were a few seconds of her just staring at the paper and you looking between her and the paper until she said something.

“What?” Her voice indifferent.

“So I’m assuming you don’t get it…”

She turned her gaze from her paper to you, hitting you with a hard glare. “No, asshole. I don’t get it.” She then threw her pencil to the side and got up from the bed. Her arm brushes against yours as she does so but you choose not to pay any mind.

“I’m so tired of chemistry,” she all but whined before dramatically plopping back down on your bed face first.

“You’re the one that said you needed help,” you pointed out while curiously flipping through her notebook. “I remember wanting to stick with routine and work on our history project.” Her doodles are cute.

“So helpful,” she sarcastically remarked, muffled; she was still face planted on your mattress, right beside you.

“I try,” you reply in a monotone voice; you were still flipping through her notes as you talked.

Tara rolled over on her back, pushing loose strands of her raven hair away from her face. She exhaled before clearing her throat—which didn’t get your attention, so she tried again …and again, after the third time she just settled for throwing a nearby pillow at your head.

You finally turned to look at her with furrowed eyebrows and a hand to the back of your head. “Um, can I help you?”

“Can we just start on the math now?”

“You couldn’t have asked that without the pillow to my head?” You asked incredulously.

“Do you have this, like, mental illness that prevents you from properly answering ‘yes or no’ questions—”

“Get your other notes out before I change my mind.”

Tara scrambled over to the side of the bed, reaching over to grab her bag that sat beside your bed. She quickly wiped off a giddy smile as she took out her needed papers. You were neatly setting her previous papers to the side as she did so.

“Alright, what do you got for me, Carpenter?” You inquired while she scooted back next to you; you’re both sitting side by side, leaning against your bed’s headboard as you looked at the page of notes she was showing you.

“This is basically everything that's going to be on my exam next week,” her stress regarding her exams was evident from her tone. “Some topics I’m good with, other’s I’m okay with, and a few I’m struggling with.” She turned to look at you, eyes practically burning holes in the side of your head with a pleading look. Pleading for you to help her.

After a moment of silence—of you intently staring at the paper—you hummed to yourself, nodding, as you finally returned Tara’s gaze before speaking. “I have highlighters; I want you to circle the ones you’re okay with in orange, and the one’s you’re struggling with in red,” you told her while reaching into the drawer of your nightstand for the highlighters.

All you got was a brief, “Mhm,” while you blindly thrashed your hand around for the highlighters. When you finally got the right colors, you handed them to her before getting up from your bed which earned you a confused look from the other girl.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom. Don’t miss me too much,” you couldn't help but smirk at the girl, leaving before she had the chance to counteract. You weren’t sure if you were smirking because of your own remark, or if it was thought Tara was missing you. It definitely left a warm feeling inside of you.

She doesn’t miss you. She wants less of you, remember? Your head reminded you, causing that familiar feeling of your chest tightening. Your breathing was still a bit hollow from the feeling as you finished up in the bathroom and walked back to your bedroom.

“You finished?” You asked Tara while returning to your previous seat beside her.

“Yes but I have a proposition for you,” Tara responded almost immediately. You stopped your movements, eyeing her with a suspicious look.

“Lay it on me,” you said.

“We can continue doing all this,” she gestured to her notes, “—but instead we can do it in a place with food.”

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate, please.”

“I want to go to the diner nearby, and finish studying there. I’m tired and starving—and you haven’t gone grocery shopping in weeks so I already know there’s not much to find in your fridge.”

“Wait, how do you know the last time I went shopping?”

Tara ignored your question, instead continuing to look at you with those doe eyes of hers as she continued to plead. “Pleeeaaase, Y/N?”

You looked at her, feigning a reluctant look before letting out a sigh. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Thank goodness. My stomach was starting to make noises I’ve never heard before,” she said as she was gathering her papers.

—

“Done!” Tara announced in a cheery tone. You looked up from your book as she slid over the sheet of loose leaf she was just working on. “I put a star next to number three; I was having trouble with that one the most,” she told you before sipping her half drunken milkshake.

You nodded her way as your eyes skimmed her paper. “All these are correct—including number three. Was there a specific reason you didn’t fully understand it?”

“Mainly the order of the steps,” she answered.

“I see. Well you were correct. But if you continue to have trouble with the memorization stuff, flashcards are great memorization tools. Especially colored ones. I can lend you some of you want,” you offered her while giving her back the piece of paper.

“Oh—yeah. Totally,” she chuckled before loudly clearing her throat and practically shoving the straw in her milkshake into her mouth. There was something that washed over her—possibly embarrassment? You couldn’t be too sure. But why would she be embarrassed? Sometimes you wish you could hear her thoughts, just so you could get some insight on what was going through her head during certain moments.

Tara stared down at her straw, subconsciously refusing to pick up her head until she felt less flushed. That was so embarrassing, she kept thinking to herself. ToTalLy! Goodness, Tara, she just offered you some flash cards—not her hand in marriage. Her cheeks got even warmer at the idea.

“You good, Tar?” You just had to ask with that painfully soft voice you get when you’re concerned. Oh, and why did you have to call her Tar? She still remembers when you called her Tar for the first time—you and her were in her bedroom after the incident at the halloween party. She felt her knees physically grow weak as heat rushed to her ears, and now she’s found herself in that same predicament due to you opening your stupid, occasionally sweet, mouth.

“Hm? Great!”

“Um,” you let out a short, awkward, and airy laugh. “Okay, good, yeah.” Your eyes subconsciously took a quick scan around the diner due to Tara’s sudden volume change. “So anyways, from the looks of those problems, you’re gonna nail your exam. Just try not to overthink your answers too much.”

Tara hummed before returning to her milkshake just to realize she was all out. Guess she’s going to have to find another thing to distract her eyes from you.

You, on the other hand, were still confused. Did you say something? Why did she seem so timid all of a sudden? Did the flashcards somehow cross a line? If so, in what way did it? Tara was being a little too silent for your liking, which is really saying something considering how much you value your quiet time.

You were about to do one of the hardest things you have ever done. Attempt small talk.

You cleared your throat, “So. How’s—how are you and uh Chad?” This finally got Tara to look up. She eyed you with a confused expression. “Like, dating and stuff,” you awkwardly added. Your palms were already growing sweaty as your leg began to bounce.

“Me and Chad? Dating?” That’s when she bursted out laughing, handing over her mouth and everything. You suddenly felt like a total dumbass but you weren’t sure as to why. Were they no longer dating? Well obviously, if you had to take anything from her reaction. But you weren’t doing a lot of laughing when you and your ex-girlfriend broke up.

“Oh—I’m sorry, let me catch my breath for a second.” She literally wiped away a tear from how hard she was laughing before speaking up again. “Y/N, Me and Chad are not together.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. And we never will be, never ever ever.”

“Never ever?”

“Never ever.”

You couldn’t help the sudden wave of relief that washed over you, but you weren’t sure where it came from.

“But I saw you two kissing at a party,” you told her.

“Right …that. Yeah, I try not to think about that night if I’m being honest. It was honestly super embarrassing; I was completely drunk, so drunk to the point where I thought he was… someone else,” her voice grew a little quieter towards the end as she sank a little in her booth.

“Oh.” Was all you said. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you? That night was a misunderstanding, and judging by Tara’s words and reaction to the accusation of her and Chad dating—that relationship is long from happening. Yet another feeling of relief washed over you as you had that thought.

“Yeah,” Tara shrugged. That’s when something clicked in her head …she could use this awkward discussion to her advantage. “Since we’re on the topic of dating, how are you and Charlotte? You haven’t mentioned her in a while.” And good riddance for that, she silently thought to herself.

“I kinda ended that,” you nonchalantly answered before shoving a fry in your mouth.

“Oh that sucks,” she feigned a sympathetic tone. “It seemed like you two were really hitting it off.”

“I guess.”

Tara wanted to leave it that, really she did, but she just couldn’t help but pry. “Something happened?” She asked you.

“Nope. Just fizzled, I guess. situation-ships do that sometimes, not surprising.”

“Wait, ‘situation-ship’? What do you mean by that?” Her question and her tone of interest had you looking at her with raised eyebrows, utterly confused for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“Like, it wasn’t serious. I wouldn't call her my girlfriend, doubt she’d call me hers. Nothing more than a casual relationship,” you responded, for some reason you felt the need to tread lightly.

“Didn’t you go on like five dates? If you go on multiple dates, that means you’re dating. Thus the word dating being an extension to date,” she sternly replied.

“Alright, I understand the responsibility of a verb—why are you getting upset over this?”

“I’m not upset.” The pout she wore as she defensively crossed her arms with slumped shoulders told you otherwise. “I just—I don’t know. I want pie.”

“Okay. I’ll get you pie, but could we please switch to a different subject?”

“Fine,” she mumbled; her gaze may have been directed toward her napkin, but it threatened to meet you every second.

—

“I can’t believe you finally watched it!” You exclaimed to Tara. The both of you were headed back to your apartment; it was dark out as it lightly snowed. You were holding the bag of leftovers, walking on the street-side of the sidewalk as Tara kept her hands firmly placed in her jacket pockets, protecting them from what felt like sub-zero temperature.

“I only avoided it for so long because of you!” She laughed.

“Wow, so you’ve been missing out on one of the greatest shows of all time due to pettiness?”

“Okay, okay—I said it was good, not great.”

“Ah, but you wanna say great. It’s that darn pettiness holding you back, once again,” you said as your smile never broke.

“Did you just say ‘darn’?”

“Yeah, what?”

Tara only laughed as she shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Oh! You should watch the extended cut—if you thought it was funny before, you're gonna love the superfan episodes.”

“I’ll give them a shot,” she truthfully responded. She would say anything to keep you talking like this. One of the things she loved listening to was you geeking out over something you were passionate about. Maybe it was the sound of your voice, maybe it was how you lit up, maybe it was how animated you were while talking.

“Definitely do—” You were cut off by a body colliding into you, causing you to drop the bag of leftovers you were carrying. You muttered a “sorry” before crouching down to pick it up. Tara was about to help until your eyes met with the other person’s.

“Y/N?” The stranger asked.

“Olivia?” You mirrored a confused look.

What was your highschool sweetheart from Woodsborro doing in the middle of Manhattan?

“Oh my gosh—it really is you.” Olivia laughed a bit as the realization set in. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit too.

“Yeah—yeah, and it’s you.” You responded before she came in for a hug. Your movement stuttered for a second before welcoming her hug. She was still as warm as the day you met, her dark hair still holding its shine it did since the last time you saw her.

The hug was understandably awkward, but for once you didn’t mind awkward. “What are you doin’ in New York?” You finally asked her.

“I’m here for this documentary thing I’m working on,” she said.

“That’s right—your documentaries. I’m glad you’re still doing those,” you told her with a genuine tone.

She grew a smile at the words you spoke. “Thanks… that means a lot.”

“Oh—uh, you remember Tara, right?” You turned and briefly pointed at the Carpenter who slightly waved.

“Yeah, I do. Hey,” Olivia said with no bitterness. She took a few steps and held out her hand to Tara, which the other girl took.

“Hey,” Tara nodded with a tight lipped smile.

“I’m surprised you two are out in public together,” Olivia joked. You and Tara both laughed awkwardly at your dynamic being brought up.

“Me too,” you joked back. “So uh—you staying long?” You asked, purposely deflecting to a different topic.

“It’s currently indefinite, I’m crashing at a friend’s place right now.” There was a glint in your eye that Olivia picked up. “Would you like to grab coffee sometime? I’d love to catch up.”

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” you replied; you were trying your best to hide your eagerness.

“Awesome,” she grinned at you. “So, see you around?”

“See you around,” you said. You instantly began to cringe at yourself as she started walking away, but she didn’t leave without giving you one last look. As soon as she left ear shot, you let out a long awaited sigh.

“Geez.” The sound of Tara’s voice caused you to flinch, you completely forgot she was standing right there. “That was hard to watch,” she remarked.

“No one asked,” you said with an eye roll as the two of you began to walk again.

“Someone’s bitter,” she replied. “Hey—” She put the back of her hand on your chest to stop you from walking as she turned to look at you, “Let’s go to my place instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanna finish these leftovers on the roof,” she answered.

“My apartment has a roof,” you told her.

“Not the same.”

“How is it not the same?”

“It's just not. Now come on before our food gets even colder and more destroyed.”

“I guess I’m following you,” you mumbled while trailing behind Tara.

—

You and Tara were sitting on white patio chairs; the same ones you recall from the last few times you’ve been up on the roof. The wind had calmed down since your walkover, snow still lightly falling from the sky. You were eating your fries as Tara was eating what was left of her pie.

“I’m just saying, I could totally take down a bear.”

“Not in a million years, Tara. You, a 5 foot gremlin, versus a big furry thing with claws that could rip you to shreds? Be serious,” you deadpanned.

“First of all, I’m 5 foot 1, second of all, you’re really underestimating me here. If I can take down a sociopath while crippled—”

Tara didn’t talk about Woodsboro a whole lot, really the only time she’s talked about it—with you at least—was the night it happened, the party at Henry’s house, and just now if that even counted. She never seemed to name-drop anyone connected to that night. But you understood. You don’t remember the last time you said Dewey’s name out loud.

“A sociopath? Yes. But last I checked, the said sociopath didn’t have the same physical traits as a bear—therefore, your argument holds no power.” You shoved a few fries in your mouth before silently offering her some, in which she accepted.

You glanced over at her to see her expression—she looked kind of disappointed. You sighed, thinking for a moment, before speaking again. “Okay, I’m not saying you have no chance. You’d still do some damage—and I guess it’s not impossible to beat a bear.” You hated the instant flip in your stomach from seeing the way she lit up, it was subtle but you’re grateful you noticed.

She smiled, almost grinning but she resisted. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“Jump on its back, put it in a headlock,” you added with your own little smile.

“Exactly. You get me,” she absentmindedly said right before taking another bite of her pie.

“What a mad world we live in,” you joked while reaching beside your chair for your milkshake. Tara wasn’t sure what you meant by that, but she just decided to ignore it rather than dwell on it—at least for the moment. She looked over to see you sipping your milkshake and a sly smile appeared on her face as she began to lean closer to you, her elbows resting on her chair’s armrest and expression never faltering.

“You want something, Tar?”

“That’s an awfully tasty looking milkshake you have there,” she commented; she feigned an innocent tone.

You glanced at her from your peripheral vision—she was on your left side—as you played with the straw in your milkshake. “Tara…” You all but sang. She hummed in response, her position still the same. “Would you like my milkshake?” You asked, but your tone hinted that you already knew what her answer was going to be.

“Well, I guess since you’re offering. Who would I be to pass up a perfectly good milkshake?”

“You’re a piece of work,” you remarked with a broad smile that Tara could describe as gleaming.

“You’re the sucker who gave me her milkshake,” she sneered before taking a sip from said milkshake.

“I’d watch my tone if I were you, ‘cause this sucker could easily take it back,” you threatened, lightly laughing along with the other girl.

She scoffed and waved her free hand, “Yeah right. I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, yeah?” You get up from your chair, eyes never leaving Tara. “I bet I could take it back from you, no sweat.”

A smirk grew on Tara’s face as she also got up from her chair. “Okay, okay, you’re on then. Winner takes all—all being the milkshake.”

“You got yourself a deal.”

“Okay then let’s do this, come on bring it,” Tara’s grin was just too strong to fight off as she lifted up her elbows; one, to use as a shield for her milkshake, and two, to use as her weapon.

You let out a laugh when you saw a defense mechanism. “That’s pathetic,” you quipped.

“Oh, really?” She said with raised eyebrows. She then shoved her elbows towards you, both of you laughing during all this.

“Oh!” You took that as a chance to grab her from behind and wrap your arms around her waist, holding her in place as she attempted to break loose; in her defense, it wasn’t as easy to do so while she was flushed against you, her face heating up from both the action and her ceaseless laughter.

The milkshake dropped to the floor, but neither of you paid any mind. You lifted her up a bit as you spoke, “Not much of a fighter now, huh?” You quipped in a smug tone.

“You are so playing dirty right now!” She said; her shirt rose a little bit and her hands were loosely holding onto your forearms.

“I don’t remember seeing a rule book. Just surrender and I’ll put you down,” you told her as if it was the simplest thing ever; for anyone else, it would have been.

“No way!” At her response you lifted her higher at which she started rapidly patting arm.

“You finally surrender?”

“Never in a bazillion years!” Just as Tara said that, she felt a drop of water on her forehead. She furrowed her eyebrows, glancing up at the night sky. “Shit—I think it’s raining.”

“Yeah right, you just don’t wanna be the one to surrender,” you accused while adjusting your hold on Tara.

“I actually felt—” Before Tara could finish her sentence, a loud grumble could be heard as it started to abruptly pour. “I told you!”

“Shit,” you cursed as you put Tara down.

“We need to get inside.”

“Incredible observation. Thought of being a detective?” You quipped.

“Shut up. It’s freezing, let’s just get inside.” Tara was visibly shivering, wrapping her arms around each other while hugging them close to her torso.

“Okay, come on.”

Tara barely let you finish speaking as she started rushing towards the door. “Wait—! Tara, don't run! You could slip!” You tried to match her speed without breaking your neck in the process. You nearly sighed in relief when she slowed down.

She looked at you with an inpatient look as she waited for you to catch up. You were in the process of taking off your jacket as you caught up to her. “If you’re going to slow me down, at least walk a little faster. I’m getting drenched, and this outfit isn’t exactly water resistant—I’m not water resistant!”

“Geez, alright. Quit complaining.” You caught up to her, trailing behind her as you wrapped your jacket around her. “Stop looking at me funny, just open the door,” you said in response to the lost expression she gave you.

She mumbled something incoherent while reaching for the door’s handle and turning.

As soon as you stepped inside, you let out a long exhale while rubbing your hands together. You looked beside you to see Tara attempting to shake off the water she was drenched in; of course, as a result, she ended up spraying you in the process. “Do you have to do that near me?”

“Where else am I doing it?” She tightened your jacket around her, holding it impossibly close to keep herself warm.

“Whatever, I gotta get home anyway. Picked up a few extra shifts,” you said while double checking your phone’s dryness.

“I thought the cafe gave you off on Saturdays.”

“Uh, yeah. I do. I’m—covering for a coworker, I owe them so,” you trailed off with a shrug; you batted your eyes away from Tara, suddenly finding your drenched jeans very interesting. “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, see you,” Tara responded; you made your way down the stairs but not before sparing a small smile.

—

It was the next day, 8:52 am on a Saturday. You had woken up around 4:00 since you had to get in around 7:00 to help set up and open at 8:00. Exhaustion was hitting you back and forth, the only thing that was keeping you awake, barely, was your few hours old coffee you had brought from home. Staying out late with Tara was really biting you in the ass, but you were usually tired these days so it wasn’t much of a difference.

Although it was slow since the day had just begun for many, you still found yourself dealing with incompetence so early in the morning. Truly, it was too early for this. If one more person asked about Halloween stuff, Thanksgiving stuff—any other thing they should’ve gotten months prior, you are going to bash your head into a wall.

Why are people asking their barista about stupid out of season decorations? It’s simple, the cafe wasn’t paying you enough; attending college and living off campus wasn’t getting any cheaper and you needed a reliable job. So when you saw that Target was hiring, you applied. That’s how you came to balance two jobs and some of the most insufferable customers you have ever had the displeasure of conversing with.

“I’m sorry miss, but we stopped selling that after October. But if you’d like, I can show you to the candy aisle—”

“No, listen to me, these are what I want,” she snarled while shoving her phone in your face; her phone showed a picture of the Halloween candy she wanted. “I don’t want regular sour patch, I don't want regular m&m’s, I don’t want regular reese’s pieces—I want Hal-lo-ween candy.”

“I know that, but miss—”

“Can you just go check in the back? Please? My son has been driving me insane and I need to at least do this one thing right,” she begged.

You let out a silent sigh, “Of course. I’ll go check in the back to see if we have anything left.”

“See, now that wasn’t so hard,” she said as you made your way to the storage room. You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore her statement. It really was too early for this.

You went into the storage and sat down on a nearby box; you just stared at the ceiling, zoning out for about a minute before heading back.

“I apologize, we don’t have what you're looking for. Is there anything else I can help with?”

She scoffed at you, clutching her purse as she did so. “No, I do not need your help because clearly it is no use. Your manager will be hearing from me,” she angrily said before strutting away.

“I’m sure he’ll love that,” you remark out loud to yourself. Once she’s out of your eye line, you let out an aggravated sigh. Working in retail is not for the weak.

You walked back to the end of the aisle and began to restock the shelves again, the thing you were previously doing before being interrupted. You picked up one of the boxes of cereal when your hand accidentally knocked something out of your pocket. It fell by your feet, you glanced at it for a moment before looking back at the shelf—but that’s when it registered what it was. You immediately placed down the box then kneeled down to pick up what you dropped.

It was a folded piece of paper. You slightly furrowed your eyebrows as you unfolded it before you traded your confusion for a smile. You looked at the doodles that covered the paper, the doodles drawn by Tara. Her name was even signed at the corner; sometimes she draws her name in different fonts to pass the time. Over the years, you noticed her favorite font to draw is graffiti lettering. You were now standing up, still smiling down at the piece of paper. You always admired the way she wrote—

—Suddenly somebody clears their throat. You jumped, blinking rapidly while attempting to shove the paper back into your pocket. You turn your head around to see your co-worker, Avery, crossing her arms while giving you a look you couldn’t quite read. “Secret admirer?” She remarked with a smirk.

“No, it’s just—it’s nothing. Scraps, really if you could even call it that,” you stammered while trying to nonchalantly lean against the shelves. It wasn’t a total failure, you guess.

“...Right,” she narrowed her eyes at her, clearly not believing your crappy save, but dropped it nevertheless. “Anyways, me, Vicky and a few of the others are gonna go out for a drink tonight; can I count you in?”

You stopped leaning on the shelves as you thought for a moment. You usually weren’t one for going out, but it’s been a long few months. With that thought, everything that’s happened in the past year flashes through your mind. It’s been nothing but motion sickness, and maybe you could go for a drink or two.

“You know what—yeah, I’m in,” you nodded at her before returning to the boxes of cereals that sat in the cart beside you.

“Wait, really? You never wanna come to these things …damn it, I owe Vicky like 20 bucks,” Avery silently moped as she walked away. You laughed a bit at her comment as you continued stocking the shelves.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

—

When you got home that day, you made sure to take a nap before it was time to leave for the bar. When you got there, you stood at the doorway for a few seconds, honestly not sure what your next move was but luckily you caught Avery’s eye and she waved you over. You walked over to where she and the others sat at—the bar—you sat down on the stool beside Avery who was sat next to Vicky. You were surprised they weren’t sitting on the same stool with how tangled with each other they were.

“You made it!!” Avery shouted in a cheery voice that made you wince as she pumped her fists in the air. “Look, Vicky! Y/N’s here!” Vicky nodded at the girl while trying to subtly ground her by rubbing her lower back.

She looked over at you with an apologetic look. “Sorry, she gets kinda loud and hyper when she’s drunk.”

You chuckled a little, giving her a reassuring shake with your head. “Don’t worry about it, I’m a pretty embarrassing drunk anyways so I couldn’t talk. Probably why I don’t do it much,” you told her while your arms rested on the table.

“Gosh, I can’t wait to see you drunk,” she said while adjusting her arm as Avery was now resting her head on Vicky’s shoulder.

“That’s never gonna happen—just a club soda for me. At most I’ll do some watered down beer, but that’s really it,” you said.

“Wow.”

“I know, I’m a party animal,” you quipped with sarcasm laced in your voice.

“Total rebel,” she added as you both laughed. “So, other than the fact that you’re a total bad boy—how are you liking New York?” She asked with Avery still wrapped around her who had snuggled up closer to her.

“It’s fine. Hasn’t changed much since the last time I lived here.”

“Yeah? Did you live in Manhattan before or someplace else?”

“Brooklyn. I was born there, and lived there until …I didn’t,” you answered with your train of thought trailing off with your answer. So much has changed since you moved. What if you didn’t move? What if you never moved back? What if you lived in Woodsboro first? What if—

“—Did your family move around a lot?” She asked another question out of pure curiosity.

“Uh…” You picked at the wood surface in front of you, suddenly feeling drained and exhausted. “ No. Just one time.”

“Cool, my family moved around a few times. It’s a pretty hard thing to go through, even if it’s just once,” she said in an understanding tone. She looked back to Avery, smiling to herself as she stared admirably at the half-a-sleep girl nuzzled up against her.

You glanced over at the adorable site before asking, “How long have you two been dating?”

“A couple months, but we’ve known each other for ten years,” she responded while pushing back loose strands of hair that covered Avery’s eyes.

“That’s a long time,” was all you could think to say.

“Yeah, she’s literally my other half. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” After letting herself stare at Avery for another moment, Vicky turned her gaze back to you. “How about you—you seeing anyone?”

“Eh.”

“Eh?”

“I was uh, sort of seeing someone? But broke that off recently. Too close for comfort,” you elaborated for her while silently deciding if you should drink tonight.

“Your casual relationship get too intimate?” She raised an eyebrow before you responded with a tiny nod, she probably would have missed it if she blinked in the same moment. “Yeah, I used to be like that before Avery.”

“Guess I just gotta wait for my Avery,” you half-joked, earning a laugh from Vicky.

“I hope you do, she’s definitely a keeper,” she said fondly. She looked at you—your head now resting on your folded arms—and saw the distraught expression you wore, it looked as if you were silently having a debate with yourself.

“Something up?”

You did a double-take at her, lifting up your head before sparing her a meek smile. “Just thinking, you know?”

Vicky nodded before adding on. “You need advice? I’ve always been told I give great advice.” Her voice was kind and held nothing but honesty.

“Sure…” You were hesitant to accept but you were also on the verge of digging yourself into a hole just to avoid decision making. To be fair, you often think about barricading yourself to avoid dealing with your problems—and oftentimes, you have actually done it. “So last night I bumped into my ex,” you reluctantly began, “and we briefly talked, and she mentioned meeting up sometime to catch up.”

“I’m assuming you’re nervous about the catching up part?”

You confirmed with a hum.

“Are you nervous about being the first to reach out, the catching up part overall, or both?”

“Yes.”

She let out a tiny laugh, not unkindly, before telling you that advice she told you about not long ago. “This was all last night, right? I say, wait a couple more days, then reach out if you’re up to it, and then once you get that part out of the way the rest will build itself.”

“You really think so?”

“Promise, I really don’t think you should stress too much on this. And listen, if you’re really not ready to meet up with her yet, I think she’d understand. Either way, it’s your choice,” she told you before sipping her drink.

“That’s… really good advice. Thank you,” you complimented.

“You’re welcome, anytime. I did mention that I give great advice.”

“I said good, not great,” you said in a tone that hinted you were just teasing.

“Yeah, okay whatever.” Vicky playfully rolled her eyes as you smiled at your own taunting.

Maybe this was not as bad as you were making it out to be, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally starting to look up.

—

Things were awful. You could never have been so wrong in your life. It was one thing after another. First with the text; you had to just hope Olivia didn’t change her number as you looked for her contact—which you had to look for by number since your removed her name and photo right after your breakup out of pure pettiness—and it took you about half an hour to think of the right words to send, and as soon as you sent them you immediately regretted it.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Next was when she actually responded.

Y/N (4:42 pm) Hey, it’s Y/N. Catching up sounds cool, so if the offer still stands I’d love to take you up on it

(XXX) XXX-XXXX (4:56 pm) Hi, yeah offer still stands. I’m actually free tonight if that works? I know that’s short notice so I completely understand if you’re unable to

You were in the middle of revising your notes at the kitchen counter when you heard the ding from the couch. Your head immediately shot up, and as soon as it processed what that ding was—you ran to it, hopping over the back of the couch and grabbing your phone.

You read the message over to yourself exactly seven times before impulsively reacting to her message with a thumbs up. After your response, you got another text from Olivia and the two of you made a decision of when and where to meet.

Oh, how deeply you regretted your impulsiveness as you stared at the same outfit over and over again. That’s what came right after the communication part; what exactly you were going to wear. You felt ridiculous, you’re usually not like this—but that happens to be a reminder of all the different things Olivia brings out in you. Good and bad. It was like you were 17 again.

Eventually you decided on something comfortable, casual, it’s not like you were going someplace fancy. The air in your apartment suddenly grew to be suffocating the closer it got to the time you had to leave. You gathered your belongings; you gathered your wallet, keys, phone, headphones, and lighter, shoving a few of them into your pockets. Just before leaving you stood still for a second.

What could I be missing? There has to be something. There has to be something. Damn it, there has to be something!

Your eyes wandered around your apartment for a good minute before you called it in. You patted yourself down while muttering the names of the items you felt in your pockets before finally leaving. You locked up behind you and let out a long sigh as you ran your hand down your face.

When you got to the bakery, your heart was beating in your ears and you felt your ears warm up when you made eye contact with Olivia from just a few tables away. She waved at you and you waved back as you subtly gulped. On the way towards the table, you silently hoped she didn’t pick up on the urge you had to perish right then and there.

“Hey,” you said. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hug her or shake her hand, something, so you just stuck with sending a small but simple smile her way.

“Hi,” she responded. She returned your smile as she looked you up and down. “You look good—I mean, you look yeah,” she awkwardly laughed, flustered from her stammering.

You returned a short laugh, feeling a tiny bit of the tension beginning to ease but not entirely, “You look good too,” your smile grew softer as you spoke. You noticed her eyes still wandering. “Didn’t get a good look last time?” You quipped in a teasing tone.

She shook her head as she tried to fight off the bright smile that painted her face. “I see you haven’t changed much,” she said.

“Well, me and change have never mixed well.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” she made her tone less monotone to ease the weight of her words. But that didn’t make you oblivious to their meaning.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your posture while you folded your hands and dropped them to your lap. “So, how’s the documentary going?”

“Just fine,” she said positively. “Still in the early stages, and you know how that can be.” You nodded along to her words. It suddenly became awkwardly quiet.

You picked at your cuticles, pressing harder and harder for that sweet sensation you craved, your gaze everywhere but at Olivia. That tension you felt before started to settle in your chest again, and you didn’t know how to cope. You just wanted out. You regretted agreeing to this. You wish you never bumped into her. You wish you never agreed to dinner with Tara because then this wouldn't be happening.

Of course it goes back to Tara. It always seems to.

“You still do that thing with your fingers?” She asked out of the blue.

“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your lap to where your hands rested.

“I don’t have to look to know. We dated for three years, Y/N,” she said.

“Oh.”

“And I can hear you picking at them from under the table.”

You suddenly felt small, slumping in your chair, and continuing to avoid eye contact with the woman who sat across from you. However, Olivia did not return this treatment. She sat up in her chair, placing her own hands on the table before turning them over to expose her palms. “Let me see your hands.”

“What?”

“Show. Me. Your. Hands.”

It didn’t seem like she was asking. There was definitely not a question mark in there. You rolled your eyes, letting out a small sigh that held aggravation. Reluctantly, you complied with her commands. She took your hands in hers and began to examine them, her fingers tracing down and softly rubbing against yours—you forgot how soft her hands were. As soon as her hands made contact with yours, you felt your joints grow weak and your cheeks felt too warm. You don’t remember the last time you held hands with her but it was certainly having an affect on you.

“Have you been using these as a chew toy?” She rhetorically asked, referring to your fingers whilst still examining them.

“Okay, they’re not that bad.”

“Yes. Yes they are,” she said with no hesitation.

She finally stopped looking at your fingers and instead at you. When you saw the worried expression that painted her face, you knew a line of questioning was approaching. “Are you okay?” She inquired in an unbearably gentle voice.

“I’m fine.”

“Which means you’re not fine.”

“Putting words into my mouth, as always,” you said in a low tone as you pulled your hands away from her.

“You really want to go there?” She let out a short exasperated laugh with her question, raising her eyebrows as she spoke.

“When I say I’m fine—I’m fine,” you said while leaning in and emphasizing your words by pressing on the table with your index finger; you leaned back against your chair when you finished speaking.

“Oh my God. You are literally so unbelievable—do you even hear yourself?” She looked at you with pure disbelief which only confused you further.

“What are you even talking about? All I said is that when I say I’m fine, I mean those words. How am I wrong here? I genuinely don’t understand,” you expressed in both frustration and genuine confusion.

“And what I am trying to say is you’re still the exact same person I was arguing with right before we broke up.”

“What?”

“You never want to talk! Listen, baby, I get you’re grieving—but you can’t just shut me out like this. It’s apparent that you need help! You don’t have to rush into it, but eventually—”

“Whether I talk or not is my choice! And I’m not seeing some stupid grief counselor, okay? Just because I don’t wanna talk to you about certain things, doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out—and I don’t need help! I’m fine. I’m just—damn it, I’m just processing. Can’t you let me do that at least?”

“You have been ‘processing’ for months! It’s time to—”

“Time to what? Move one?”

“That’s not what I was going to say!”

“But you’re thinking it. You’re thinking it just like everyone else is; my mom, my brothers, everyone at school—just leave me alone, all right!”

“Y/N, nobody is—”

“No! Everyone is thinking! Just stop, okay! I don’t need your bullshit sweet nothings, I don’t need some therapist, I don't need to talk about it—I’m fine!”

You and her could not even go five minutes without your conversation, or lack of, forming into an argument. And it was your fault. You were the problem. You couldn’t answer a simple question. Maybe you were hiding behind the fact that you didn’t know how to answer that question, or that you're trying to hide the answer from others. Either way, you always find yourself forming emotional barricades around you, no one in and no one out.

“Hey, come back,” Olivia’s voice rang. You were pulled from your thoughts, blinking rapidly as if it would wipe away the memories you tried so hard to erase. She leaned in, her irritated expression replaced with a comforting one. “I know how mean that voice in your head can be, I know what it does to you—but I just want you to be okay.”

You met her gaze, your expression equivalent to the look of a lost puppy. “Thank you, Olivia,” you simply said. It was not much, but it still weighed in emotion.

The rest of the night was less intense. She asked about Blackmore and how it’s going, which inevitably opened the door to her questioning you about seeing you with Tara the other night, and you found out more about her documentary. The night was long and tiring, but as much as you hate to admit it, you’re glad you agreed to catch up with Olivia. And you would be a bold faced liar if you said you didn’t miss her. The wound is still arguably fresh, but it’s beginning to heal.

You walked into the apartment, looking forward to changing into a pair of pajamas and binge watching some TV on the couch until you passed out. You have been studying non-stop for exams for the past four weeks, so why not give yourself a treat? Plus, this upcoming school week, you will officially be exactly one week from exams so you will be locked in. What does that mean? You do what you usually do but multiply that by a million, anyone who has known you long enough knows they’re going to hear less and less from you the closer you get to exams. It’s as if you completely shut down from the outside—actually, that’s exactly what happens.

As you walked inside, you yawned and rubbed your tired eyes. But as they begin to focus again, you notice a few blobs sitting in your living room. When your eyes are fully focused, that’s when you see them.

“Are you shitting me,” you expressed in a monotone voice while turning the locks on the door before throwing your keys to the side.

“No—no whining!” Anika immediately said. “You knew they were coming over.”

“I thought you canceled,” you said.

“Uncanceled.”

“What a miracle,” you remarked as you took off your jacket.

“How come whenever I have people over you have a problem with it as if this isn't a shared apartment?”

“Y/N being an inconsiderate jackass? What a revolation,” Tara pitched in with a smirk. You looked over to deadpan at her and she was already staring back at you.

“Says the woman who still owes me a milkshake,” you wiggled a finger at her. You both smiled at each other before you turned back around to kick off your shoes. “You know what, Nik, it’s fine. I’m just kind of grumpy right now.”

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for not giving you an update,” she said, matching your own apoplectic tone. “You wanna join us? We were gonna play some Uno then watch a movie.”

“Uh, I don’t know—”

“Yeah, probably 'cause you’re gonna get all embarrassed when I wipe the floor with your ass in Uno,” the younger Carpenter knowingly instigated.

“Oh, excuse me? I’ll have you know I’m the reigning champ in my family—don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” you instigated back.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Alright,” your gaze stayed on Tara for a moment before switching back to Anika, “I’ll join you.”

—

“Tara is totally looking at my cards!” Chad shouted while shoving his cards to his chest like an elderly woman clutching her pearls.

“I am not! You’re the one who keeps leaning on my side!” Tara whined back with just as much passion, if not more.

“Okay—no one looks at anyone's cards!” Anika cut in. “Alright, babe, it’s your turn.”

Mindy wore a devious smirk, slowly picking a card from her deck for dramatic effect.

“Boom, suck on that!” Everyone leaned in to look at the plus four Mindy slammed down on the pile of cards. Chad instantly groaned, immediately feeling a sense of regret for wasting his last plus four. He sulked while taking four more cards.

Now it was your turn. Tara was right after you, you had the chance to make her life a living hell. All you had to do was place the three plus four from your deck and you would double Tara’s deck in size and be one more card away from Uno.

You made a decision.

“Plus four,” you gloated regarding the single plus four you placed down.

“Damn it!” Tara made sure to glare at you while she picked up her four cards. “Just wait, you’ll see. I’m going to make my comeback.”

“Whatever you say,” you said in a doubtful tone. As Tara silently cursed to herself while flipping through her deck in frustration, you couldn’t help but stare fondly at the girl. She always had a competitiveness to her that you couldn’t help but respect. It was kind of cute.

After another seven minutes, it came down to just two people; you and Tara. You sat from across each other, debating your next play while one taunted the other.

“You know you’re going down, right?”

Tara laughed at your words. “You have at least ten cards, I just have two more turns and I’ll be following through with wiping the floor with your ass.”

“Oh, yeah?” You said, unintentionally with a come hither voice. You leaned in, your voice lowering but the tone still the same as you spoke to her. “You keep that energy, Carpenter.”

Tara's face suddenly grew warm, her stomach enveloping with butterflies as your voice crashed against her ears. You leaned back against the couch, looking at your own cards as it was Tara’s turn now.

Shit, you were in her head now. You totally did that on purpose, you had to. And what a dick you were for that, you knew what you were doing—again, you had to be aware of your actions. You must know the stupid feeling you give her, the way her stomach flips, how her legs turn to jello when you call for her. No. Focus. Come on, Tara. Lock in. Wipe the floor.

She cleared her throat, blinking down at her cards while processing them. It took a moment for it to click before she tapped back into her competitiveness and slammed down a card. “Uno! Plus four—suck on that!” Now she had just one card remaining in her hand, just one more turn and she would be victorious.

You smiled at her, your head tilted a bit as your eyes lit at the sign of her celebrating. She calmed herself down, feigning a calm demeanor. “Alright, it's your turn.”

You sighed. Well it was fun while it lasted, you enjoyed playing with Tara. It was entertaining. It’s nice playing with someone who can handle your competitiveness. “Uno, uno out,” you said while putting down your entire deck. You sat in your spot, looking at Tara with a shit-eating smirk with your hands folded together as Tara sat there dumbfounded.

“That’s—what, no, wait,” she furrowed her eyebrows as she rummaged through the cards you just placed. They were all green sevens. All of them. “How’d you—”

“Chin up, honey,” you teased, winking at her

“Oh you’re a real piece of work.” She shot up from her seat as she rushed over to a nearby closet. Your eyes followed her movements as you raised your eyebrows at her sudden actions.

“You two finally finished?” Mindy asked but was ignored by the other girl. “What are you doing with that—can you like stop ignoring me?” Tara returned with a box of Jenga in her hand and the others trailing behind her.

“I’m too tired to play Jenga,” Chad said.

“Good thing you’re not.” She now looked to address you, “You, me, Jenga—now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” was all you said as she immediately began setting everything up.

“What’s this about?” Anika asked you.

“Oh, I beat her ass in Uno—graciously so—and she’s being petty about it,” you shrugged.

“I am not being petty, I am unsatisfied. Seriously—how do you win with all green sevens?! Ugh, never mind that. We’re playing this and I’m going to hold out on my promise.”

“Of wiping the floor with my ass?”

“Exactly.”

“Woman of her word,” you say while getting comfortable in your spot.

Mindy, Anika, and Chad watched from the sidelines as you and Tara went at it in Jenga. There were many, many close calls, and few times where the other nearly flipped a table. You both tried to get into the other’s head while the other was sliding out their pieces, but so far no mistakes. But the tower was growing wobbly, it was getting late, and it was only a matter of time before that tower fell over. Now, it was simply a matter of who would make it come to that.

It was Tara’s turn, and there were not many places left for her to take from so she was forced to resort to an incredibly risky spot. You took this as another opportunity to mess with her. “Hey, Tar?”

“Kind of busy here,” she said—the block just halfway out.

“Will you marry me?” You casually inquired.

Tara’s eyes widened and her eyebrows jumped in surprise. Her hand immediately faltered, dropping her piece as the tower came crashing down. Her mouth opened and closed, her stare averting back and forth from you and the fallen tower; she didn't even know where to begin.

The others just remained on the sidelines, completely entertained by what was unfolding in front of them.

“Is that… a no?” Your eyes were almost pleading as you continued to taunt the girl, your millionth smirk that night threatened to show itself.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tara responded as she squeezed her eyes shut, still processing what just happened.

“Not before the honeymoon,” you quipped. Chad, Mindy, and Anika could now be heard laughing, no longer able to hold it in.

“You can’t just—” She shut her mouth out of frustration, settling for narrowing her eyes at you.

“I can’t just what, sweetie? Come on, use your words.” Oh, this was fun.

Suddenly you got a pillow to the face which only made it funnier, to you at least. “You owe me a rematch, cheater!”

“Excuse me, I didn’t cheat. You messed up on your own devices,” you said while patting down the pillow and putting it to the side.

“You know what you did,” she said with bitterness laced in her voice.

“I don’t, so how about you tell me? Tell me how exactly my words affected you; you know, so I can prevent myself from accidentally cheating next time.” You never broke eye contact with Tara; you enjoyed how much she was squirming thanks to you, maybe you enjoyed it a little too much.

“Next time?”

“You wanna rematch, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do.” This whole interaction had Tara blushing; she needed to leave, like right now. “How about I get back to you in 5-7 business days? Sounds good? Cool. Well, it’s late and Chad’s my ride so we should probably head home, right Chad?” Her words were rushed which made you raise an eyebrow at the sudden change.

“Hm? Oh sure, I’ll just get my keys and stuff and we can go,” Chad said before going to get his belongings.

“So, I’ll see you around—buddy,” she awkwardly punched your arm in a playful manner.

“Um, yeah, buddy. See you around,” you chuckled at her awkwardness.

“I’m still expecting an answer though!” You called out as she made her way to the front door.

“5-7 business days!” She repeated back to you.

“I’m holding you to that!”

-----------

A/N: well that escalated, gosh, keep it in your pants R! 😦

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga

#let the light in au #tara carpenter #tara x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter scream #tara carpenter x fem!reader #scream x you #scream x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #scream fanfic

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velocesainz · 4 months

Note

Hey lovely, F1 idea with either Lando or Charles for you. Them coming home after being away a while and going to the fridge for a snack, only to find things you normally hate in there. Because you’re pregnant but you haven’t told anyone yet 🫠

A/n: Hope you enjoy, I’m sorry if this was a little short for your liking

F1 masterlist | main masterlist

Cravings

(LN04)

Summary: Lando doesn’t know you’re pregnant and comes home from f1 to find the most random foods in the fridge. What is his reaction? This is kinda short don’t mind

Warnings: none, super fluffy, very slight angst

Pairing: Lando x pregnant!fem!reader

Y/n pov:

I came home with a bunch of groceries, most of them my pregnancy cravings and started putting the foods away.

Lando doesn’t know that I’m pregnant and I’m kinda scared to tell him. How will he react?

We never had a conversation about having kids before so I don’t even know if he wants kids or not.

Lando should be home in another few days so I better make a plan fast.

I put a hand on my barely visible baby bump. “It’ll all be ok baby, don’t worry”

A few days later:

Lando pov:

Finally I’m home! This season was fun but the break is going to be even better!

I can spend my time with y/n and maybe I can tell her about wanting to have kids

I’m at a decent level in my career and we are old enough to have kids, also I had baby fever from looking at Carlos’s niece and can’t stop imagining how y/n would look pregnant.

She would look really hot.

I came home and dropped my bag on the table walking into the house.

I called out to y/n but didn’t hear a response, she’s probably not home.

I felt really hungry so I opened the fudge but the contents inside really surprised me.

Pickles, peanut butter, cheesecake…

These are all foods that y/n hates with an absolute passion. Why is it in the fridge then? Was somebody over when I wasn’t around?

That can’t be possible! Y/n would tell me if someone came over, plus with how much she works there is no way she would even allow a visitor because she would fear that she wouldn’t be a good host.

Just then I heard the front door open and heard y/ns sweet voice that I’ve been dying to hear for the past 2 weeks. “Lando are you home? I’m back!”

I closed the fridge and ran to hug her tight.

“I missed you so much baby. I’m sorry I couldn’t come to the last few races.” She told me.

“I missed you more than you can imagine love. Also don’t worry about not coming to my races, just knowing you are watching me is enough motivation to do well in my races” I said to her causing her to blush, why is she so goddamn cute?

“I have one question, why are there pickles and cheesecake in the fridge? Me and you both don’t like them” I asked her. Her eyes widened in fear.

“Uh I uh…” she stuttered.

“It’s ok love, you can tell me no matter what it is” I said to try and ease her nerves.

“Ok…but just know that I understand if you want to leave me after what I tell you” she said with her down.

What? Did she cheat on me or something?

“I uhm..I’m pregnant” she said and backed away.

I was going to be a father. WAIT WHAT? IM GOING TO BE A FATHER!!

I immediately hugged her right and I felt a wet patch on my hoodie.

“You’re not mad?” She asked me with her big doe eyes staring straight into mine.

“Of course not love! I’ve always wanted to be a father, I’m sorry if I never told you before” I told her and watched as she breathed a huge sigh of relief and hugged me tighter.

“I’ll make sure that this baby has the best and most safe love with my favourite lady in the world” I said as we hugged each other tightly and stayed there for a while.

The next few months are sure going to be eventful.

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 angst

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skipper1331 · 4 months

Text

Ice rink // Leah Williamson

a/n: based off this request. Hope you like it!

Leah had a plan. It’s genius, so would she tell.

She would take you on a date but not just any date - a winter date. She knew you loved winter and everything about it.

Your eyes lit up at the slightest sign of snow, you started baking (even though you couldn‘t bake), mandarins became your to-go snack (at least one eaten a day) and whatever you did Christmas themed music was playing in the background. Winter was your favorite time of the year and Leah had made it her mission to make it even more special.

"Special date night, tonight, I’m picking you up at six" the blonde smiled brightly, peppering kisses to your cheek as you walked towards the changing room.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked, a blush covering your cheeks.

"For me to know, for you to find out" she replied sweetly, kissing your lips before she hurried away. Leaving you alone in the hallway, thoughts running wild. Leah was very pragmatic, something you learned quickly as you started dating the blonde. Date night usually meant that she would take you out to a fancy restaurant, be the charmer herself as she would open every door for you and complimented you every two seconds and of course, she would pay for your dinner. There wasn't much point in discussing it - she stuck to her opinion: "need to treat my girl right", "I am taking you out, so I am paying"

Every now and then you tried though, enjoying the unamused glare she would send you and trying to explain herself, "you can pay me back with kisses" she would huff, grumbling about your ridiculousness - there was no way she would let you pay for anything. She was Leah Williamson, how could she ever let her girl pay for her?!

So, what was she up to? Special date? Should you be scared?

At home, you realized something. Leah hadn‘t told you what to wear. You couldn‘t be over or underdressed for her special date night.

You

what should I wear?

darling

what happened to hello? how are you?🙄

not even a heart, my girl

you‘re hurting my feelings

You

ha ha.

my dearest lover, what should I be wearing tonight?❤️❤️

better?

darling

much better.

Wear whatever you like, you always look beautiful

You

Leah, that‘s not helping

darling

something causal, baby x

With new information, you showered, freshening up for your night with Leah, dressing in some casual clothes.

The two of you haven‘t been together that long yet, both of you still living in your own apartments even though, Leah spent most of her time in your flat. The blonde was far too obsessed with you to stay away from you longer than a few hours. Nights where she had to attend to events were awful for her. She would rather cuddle you and have a night in instead of being out, surrounded by cameras and the media.

After event nights, she would return to your home, not thinking about her own - she just wanted to have you back in her arms.

As you waited patiently for the time to pass by excitement flashed through your body, what did she have planned? You thought about some date ideas Leah might had planned but none of them made any sense - it was Leah after all.

5 minutes before the clock ticked six, your doorbell rang. Happily, you got up from your seat on the couch, walking towards the door to open it.

"Hi!" the blonde greeted you, pulling you close with one arm as her other hand held a bouquet of flowers before she pressed a loving kiss to your lips, "I’ve missed you" she mumbled. Your cheeks turned crimson at her confession, relaxing further in her embrace, "missed you too" you admitted shyly, pecking her cheek.

"Got these for you, my girl" she showed you the flowers proudly as if you haven‘t seen them already, "they look almost as beautiful as you" she grinned.

Walking into your home she like she owned it, she tossed her bag aside, making her way to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.

"Thank you, baby, they‘re perfect" you told her as you trailed behind her.

With the flowers in the vase resting on the counter, her full attention was back on her favorite, "come here" grabbing your hands, she pulled you in, arms snuggling around your waist, "you look so beautiful" she muttered, pressing loving kisses to each of your cheeks before kissing your lips. Immediately, a blush spread across your features, Leah’s touch and sweet words making you melt.

After a quick lovely kissing session - Leah couldn‘t stop peppering kisses along your features, your blush and giggle too cute, the two of you left your home.

The blonde sat behind the steering wheel, hand firmly resting on your thigh as she drove to your destination. The whole driving journey you stared out of the window, admiring the city lights, the little bit of snow that was falling and all the house decorations. Everything was just so christmassy - you loved it.

As the car slowly came to a stop, the defender requested softly, "close your eyes please" to which you obeyed. Your girlfriend pressed a thank you kiss to your cheek before she hurried out of the car to your side, opening the door, "be careful, baby" she helped you out of the car, hand protecting your head, so you wouldn‘t hurt yourself. "I‘ll guide you some steps, keep your eyes closed" her arms wrapped around her waist to steady yourself as she led you to the ice rink.

"Open your eyes!"

Carefully, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness of the Christmas lights, only now realizing the Christmas music playing.

"Ice skating?"

"Yes! Awesome, isn‘t it?" she had one of the brightest grins on her face, so confident in her idea. "Have you ever been ice skating before?" you asked as you couldn‘t imagine the girl on the ice without falling on her bum.

"Of course, but don‘t worry, my girl, we‘ll get you one of the penguins" she replied cockily with a special glint in her eyes. She was lying - the 'I’m trying to impress you'-lying. Nonetheless, you went with it as the big smile on her made you forget everything.

"Let‘s go. We need skates" grabbing your hands, she pulled you to the shoe rental.

"Ready, baby?" you asked, standing a step away from ice rink entrance.

"Yeah, sure" she answered with some hesitation, suddenly feeling afraid. Sensing her nervousness, you took her hand, "can we go at the same time?" smiling shyly. She nodded, stepping on the rink with you.

"Ah!" the defender shrieked as she slipped away, just catching the rink wall in time.

"You okay?" you giggled.

"Yes! put my weight on the wrong side" she shrugged, standing back up correctly, "come on" she pushed herself away from the rink, trying to balance herself in the skates - failing miserably. Her arms flung in every direction, hips and body too but it was no help. She fell again. She huffed, getting up immediately as she grabbed your hand, determined to show you that ice skating wasn‘t that hard. "Do you want some help?" you asked softly, the feeling on being on the ice an old familiar one to you. The sounds of the blades scratching the ice, the tightness of the laces and the shivering warm sensation made you feel nostalgic. You had spent hours on the ice as a kid, falling over and over again while you tried new figures.

"No, I told you I can ice skate" she stated, grumbling "can‘t be that fucking hard" under her breath. She left her hand in yours, feeling the need to do so as she tried again - it was rather moves of not falling than skating.

"Ah!" she yelled, pulling you down as she fell once again. You fell right on top of her, knocking the air out of her lungs, "sorry. are you alright?"

"yes" she huffed, getting more and more annoyed at each of her falls.

The hand holding soon turned into arm clinging as she desperately tried to stay on her feet, not wanting to fall again.

But she continued to fall, your heart slowly aching at her misery. Indiscreetly, you guided her to the wall where she instantly grabbed onto it, clinging for her dear life. "Let me get you a penguin" you suggested, eyes searching for one on the rink.

"I‘m not a baby!" she grumbled, pouting and crossing her arms - she didn‘t come that far her skates slipping away, arms back at hugging the rink.

"They are not for babies, they‘ll help you, my love"

She huffed, glaring at you, not used to the fact she couldn‘t do something - something as simple as ice skating, "fine"

"thank you" you pressed a kiss to her cheek before you skated away with an ease. like a goddess you glided across the ice, Leah amazed by it. It looked so effortless as you did. Not once did you fall - not when people suddenly appeared in your way nor when people skated straight into you, you just turned on the ice skating backwards as you helped said people not to fall themselves.

Leah‘s mouth agape, when did you learn to skate? You were glowing on the ice.

"I didn‘t know you could skate" the defender pouted in awe as you were back at her side, the penguin in front of you.

"You never asked" you laughed, pushing the penguin to her, "I used to figure skate" you stated at her raised brows.

"And you didn‘t tell me!" she looked at you offended, playfully hitting your chest. All her annoyance had washed away by seeing you skate, truly amazed by your talent. "Can you show me how to skate?" she asked shyly, head hanging low, slightly embarrassed as she had tried to impress you with something she couldn’t do and you were an expert in.

"I’d love to" you replied, "put one hand here and the other one there" you started your lesson.

With one arm gripping the wall, the other one made its way where you had showed her to put it. Then the other one did the exact same thing.

First step - letting go of the rink wall - check.

Second step

Your arms gripped her hips as you pushed her slowly over the ice, so she could get a feeling on it.

"How does that feel?" you asked, still holding onto her.

"Good"

"Now try to move your feet. First, you slide with one of them diagonally forward, like pushing yourself forwards, same goes with the other after that. Lean your weight slightly on the penguin"

"Alright"

She tried pushing, her weight on the penguin, but without any luck. If you weren’t holding her, she would’ve fallen to the ground.

"Gently, not with so much force" she huffed, trying it again. This time it worked a bit better but still wasn’t optimal as she came to a stop - her body on the ice.

"You‘re supposed to hold me" she complained.

"Baby, you pulled me with you, how am I supposed to hold you?"

"I don’t know!"

Pulling her back up, she clinged onto your body, no trust in the little penguin as it moved too much and fast.

"Do you want to go?"

"yes, please" she admitted bashfully, big eyes fearing your reaction.

"then let’s go" with your lover in yours arms, you skated to the exit, helping her to step out as you followed behind. Both of you took a seat on the bench, taking off your skates - Leah still with a scowl on her face. "What‘s the matter, my love?" you asked, stopping her in her movement as it was way too aggressive.

"I ruined our night" she grumbled, finally able to cross her arms without falling.

"Hey" cupping her cheeks, you turned her to face you, "no. no, you didn’t." Sad eyes looked at you, all Leah wanted to do was something special in your favorite time of the year (and impress you.)

"What about a hot chocolate and maybe crepes?" you suggested, caressing the wrinkle between her brows.

When Leah heard the word chocolate she was already convinced. The pout washed away, a wide smile making its way over her features, "I love you so much" she whispered, leaning towards you to lock your lips. Her kiss was gentle and soft, her hand resting on your thigh as the kiss lingered. She was so in love with you. More than anyone could ever imagine.

"I love you too" you smiled, leaning your forehead against hers as you soaked in the cold winter night, your lover keeping you warm.

"So about the hot chocolate…?"

"let’s go"

the blonde kissed you quickly in appreciation before she held out her hand for you to take. She grabbed the skates, yours and her own as she brought them back to the rental store.

"Do you want them with marshmallows, my girl?"

"No, whipped cream please"

She nodded, hurrying to the stand who sold warm drinks while you sat down at a table. With a wide grin, she came back, two cups of hot chocolate in her hands, "I asked her if she could add a smiley face on yours with chocolate sauce, look" placing the drink in front of you, a smiley face smiled at you in the whipped cream. Your features matched the one in your drink while you 'thank you' kissed Leah. Her eyes shone as she looked at you, you looked so beautiful. "My pretty girl" she admired while she took a seat beside you, wanting to be as close as possible.

"Cheers?" you lifted your cup, waiting for Leah to join you.

"Cheers"

Both of you took a sip, the drink melting on your tongues, not too hot and not too cold - just perfect.

The blonde beside you let out a laugh which caught your attention. "What?" you asked confused.

"You‘ve got there something, my girl" she chuckled, pointing to your face, the whipped cream had created a beard.

"Where?"

"Here, lemme just" the defender wiped it away with her thumb before she tasted it, "delicious" she giggled, still wiping away the last few bits, "all gone, baby"

"I don’t think it is" you said, taking the drink in your hands to apply more cream, this time perfectly on your lips, "try harder"

"my cheeky, cheeky girl"

Of course, the gunner immediately leaned forward, connecting your lips. Your body tingled at the heavenly sensation of her touch, mind blank as you could only focus on her lips on your own.

When air became a problem, she pulled back, grabbing your jaw with one hand, her touch gentle as she examined your lips, turning your head in every direction, so she could she them from each angle, "no, not finished yet" she grinned, interlocking your lips again.

For sure, Leah wasn‘t the best ice skater but her love for you was clear. Leah Williamson was head over heels for you and would try everything in her power to impress you each day. Sometimes it‘ll work and other times, like today, it won‘t but that‘s okay because she was Leah Williamson, England Captain, European Champion and you were her girl.

So in the end, it was indeed a special date night - she made the winter even more special to you.

Also, she wanted to watch you figure skate - the two of you would definitely come back here.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #lionesses #engwnt x reader #engwnt #lionesses x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal x reader #arsenal women #arsenal #gunner #awfc #awfc imagine #awfc x reader

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