#i would drop dead to give this guy five more years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chasedbyatlantic · 2 months

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flawless, joel miller

masterlist summary: IN WHICH — joel miller comes to you hurt and in pain, after realizing that you are the only one that he can find peace with - you're there to welcome him with open arms.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, boston qz era!joel, gender neutral!reader, no use of y/n, frenemies to lovers type trope, angsty to fluff, mentions of blood/injuries/death (lightly mentioned), joel being so sappy i love it, swearing, cute ending. lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.9k

a/n: i hope u love this as much as i do. i've been meaning to write it for a while, and it's a bit of a diff style from my writing but i love how it turned out! make sure to reblog, like, comment and follow for more! xoxo

—

It had to have been three in the morning by now. When Joel said he was going to be at your place by seven, you believed him. He was a man of his word after all - or at least ninety nine percent of the time he was. He had told you this morning that he was heading outside of the walls after his shift at the "graveyard" (the nickname given to where the bodies of infected were burned), and he would be back just after sunset. You had protested to join him on his well-travelled route, but he had forbid you from going with him. Despite not going with him, he had promised to swing by your place once he was back and drop off any goods he may have scavenged while out.

You weren't sure why he wouldn't agree to let you come, it wasn't like he was your father, or brother, or boyfriend - you guys were friends. Sure, the two of you had hooked up every so often, but that gives him no right to make decisions for you, about what you can do or where you can go. It's the zombie apocalypse for Christ sake, you can do what you want when you want.

You had been up for an extra few hours, it was way past the time you would usually be asleep. You were waiting for that knock on the door, you were waiting for the bickers on why you were awake and waiting for his return, you were waiting for Joel. In all honesty, you weren't sure why you were up. Maybe it was the thought in the back of your head that he was dead, or stranded alone somewhere far outside of the walls.

You had to shake those gruesome thoughts out of your head as you were forced up and toward your window, having to close it due to the newly started rain. As soon as the window was shut, the sounds of pitter-patter were echoed through your entire apartment, the only thing it did was put you on edge. He was probably at home, you thought to yourself, thinking it was too late to bother you and that he would see you first thing tomorrow. You could only hope for that.

You had decided it would be best to go and sit down on your sofa, the one in front of the TV that hadn't worked for twenty something years. It wouldn't hurt you if you remained up for the next little bit, just in case. In case there would be a knock on your door, in case he showed up. You took a seat on the well weared in part of the sofa, kicking your shoes off and cuddling up to the blanket covering the arm. It wouldn't hurt you if you stayed up waiting with your eyes shut, would it?

It was a quarter to five when a few sets of knocks went off at your door. You had shot up from the light rest you had fallen into, mentally cursing yourself for not being able to stay up. Was it Joel? You really shouldn't be caring this much about him, or this situation. You were sure it wasn't anything serious, but this is what friends do for each other, right?

You had gotten up as quick as you could, tripping over your shoes and almost face planting on the ground. Without spending any time to worry about it, you moved over to the door. Whoever it was on the other side, Joel or not, mustn’t have heard you make your way over to the door since there was another set of desperate knocks. It felt like an eternity while you undid all four locks, before swinging it open.

Your eyes could only fall into the gaze of the grey ones in front of you. You weren't sure if he was crying, or if the paths under his eyes were extra watery from the torrential downpour happening outside (though, you wouldn't question him about it). Your eyes had scanned over his saddened face, to the puddle of water beneath his shoes. Your hand had automatically found its way to cup his cheek, your thumb running over his skin as gentle as possible, "Fuck, Joel."

You could feel him soften his muscles when you did this, despite his facial expression remaining neutral, "I gotta come in." He had mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. You had immediately dropped your hand from his face, and moved out of the doorframe, allowing Joel to enter. It was only when the dull light from your candle lit lamp engulfed Joel that you could really see what had happened to him.

A black eye, a busted lip, small bruises littered around every masculine feature he had. You were going to kill whoever did this to him. "I got clothes that'll fit you, hold on." You had turned and shuffled your way into your room, digging through the drawers when you had reached them. You had a pair of black sweatpants that were too big on you, but would most likely fit Joel. Before leaving the room, you swiped a shirt that was laying in the pile of clean clothes off to the side.

You emerged not long after, seeing the barely-clothed man remove his last sock off his right foot. You two were past the point of being embarrassed in front of each other, you had learned to adapt due to the many years spent surviving together. As you walked past Joel, toward the kitchen, you shoved the clothes into his arms. You wanted to give him a little privacy, so he could hold onto his pride, if he managed to have any left.

Making your way into the kitchen, you immediately got out a mug from your tiny mug collection, and turned the gas-powered stove top on. Placing the mug beside the stove, you had brought over a little pot and dumped an entire bottle of water into it. It didn't take long for the water to boil, so once it was done, you immediately put it in the mug labeled "World's Best Boss" and started to scavenge. You hadn't opened the box of tea you were looking for, you wanted to save it for a special occasion. Tonight was special enough, right?

You had found it after a moment of searching, taking a packet out of the box and moving back over to the living room. Your eyes fell on the emptiness of the sofa, the man nowhere to be found. He couldn't have left, you didn't hear the door open or close. Just before you were going to call out for him, he walked out of the darkness (his limp more noticeable than before). "Put the clothes'n y'ur bath tub, didn't want the floor all wet for ya' to clean." His voice was hoarse.

You shot him an almost unapologetic look as you placed the mug down, dropping the tea bag inside. "Stop worryin' 'bout that, now sit down and let me help." For once in his life, Joel Miller kept quiet and did what you told him. You had wished it would be under different circumstances, but a win is a win. "Now," You began, "I know you like coffee, but this was all I could find."

It had to taken Joel a moment before he realized that there was a warm drink waiting for him, his nose too stuffed to have taken in the scent. It had been a while since Joel had something warm to drink, a while since someone's cared enough about him to make him something like that. Even though he despised any sort of drink other than coffee (and water, of course), he would not complain about this. Not now, not ever. He reached forward for the mug, carefully bringing it back to his lap. "Best boss, hm?"

You could only giggle as you were now opposite of Joel, instead of being on the couch, you had pushed it away and were digging on the floor. Months ago, you had figured out there were two layers of wood that divided you and the person who occupied the apartment below you. That space served as a cubby, so you figured why not use it for its purpose? "You're gonna be jumpin' with joy, Joel Miller." He looked puzzled, trying his best to ignore the immense pounding that came from everywhere in his body. That's when he caught glimpse of what you were holding, headache medicine.

Sure, headache medicine was some measly little thing that probably didn't work as well as it used to anymore, not many people would bat an eye at it before the apocalypse. But now, it was gold. People were sentenced to the firing squad if any guard in the QZ found out about medicine that wasn't recorded, since it was so scarce. "Why the fuck do you have that?" Was all Joel could say, forgetting about himself for a moment, and worrying about you. That's what friends do, right?

"For emergencies like this." You had gotten up from the floor, kicking the wooden plank back into its home before moving over to Joel. You had opened the cap, taking out four. Four would send you into the doctors office if you took them before they expired, but since they expired twenty years ago, they only worked half (if you were lucky) of what they usually would. You had reached out for Joel's hand and placed the pills in there, "Drink tea with'em to help them go down easier."

He listened to you, silent for a moment. After he had swallowed the mouthful (literally) of pills, he broke silence. "I don't want you runnin' 'round'n gettin' shit like that." He was referring to the pills, "You know what happens if ya' get caught." How could even talk this much with a busted lip, you thought to yourself. You repeated the 'if ya' get caught' part to him as you slipped away once more into the kitchen.

Joel called your name out a few times as you left, leaning farther back into the couch each time. By you talking to him, he was distracted. Distracted from the crushing headache, the horrible tension that rose to his lips every time words were escaping from his mouth, the pain throughout his body. He would tell you what happened, when you came back, but only if you asked.

You returned with a small bowl and a rag, something to clean up his face (and anywhere under the clothes he may want cleaned). You sat down beside Joel, on the sofa, "Lay down." He looked confused, not really understanding what you had meant. Not wanting to waste anymore time with those open wounds leaking every so often, you grabbed his shoulders and forcefully (yet carefully) brought him down so his head was rested in your lap.

You could tell that it hurt Joel when you did that by the small grunts he had managed to let escape his lips. You didn't mean to hurt him, not at all, but you couldn't deal with any bickering if he decided to start now. "So, Mister Miller," You began, dipping the rag into the bowl, "How did you get your shit rocked so badly?"

He wasn't impressed by the way you put it, shooting you a quick glare, "Runners." Was all he said. Runners? How could runners do this to him? A million thoughts ran through your head, but you quickly cut yourself short. "Are you-" Joel knew what you were asking, was he bit? "No." He responded, a bit too quick, before continuing his short, yet descriptive, story, "Was with a few people ya'dunno, came across Runners out in a building, they all turned on me'n tried to get out." He paused for a moment, "Four'o them plus two runners on me, would've killed 'em myself if the runners didn't get 'em first."

You could tell Joel was hesitant to tell you, thinking you would see him as weak. No, far from that actually. You could only think highly of the man laying in your lap, for he's how you were thriving in this apocalypse. You brought the dampened rag to the gash on his cheek, he jumped as it was alcohol, and not water, "Don't beat yourself up too much for it," Joel flinched at the stinging sensation, "Your secret's safe with me."

Joel had crossed his arms, his hands brushing past your thighs. You felt as if they lingered too long, maybe it wasn't a passing matter. He's comfortable with you, you know that. This is what friends do, right? You had assessed the other wounds on his face, almost all disinfected completely. The bowl of alcohol now having a slight red tone to it.

After a moment, Joel broke the comfortable silence the two of you were in, "I shouldn't have came. Wastin' all y'ur supplies'n all." This didn't impress you, so Joel had earned a slight slap on his shoulder. "Just let me take care of you, god dammit. How many times have you done it for me?" He was silent after that, knowing. Countless times, after roudy street fights for ration cards, Joel had cleaned you up. Cleaned the blood from your face and stitched the deep gashes that would appear. You were only returning the favour, because that's what friends do.

"Plus," You added now, "we can just scavenge more stuff the next time we take a vacation from this place." If you taking out medicine for him didn't piss him off, this sure as hell did. Without thinking, he reached forward and grabbed your wrist, the wrist that was cleaning up his purpled lip. "Ya' ain't goin' out there, not now, not ever." You had shooed his hand off from you, brushing the comment off, "Can't protect me forever, boss. What's a little fun anyway?" You shouldn't have had the playful grin on your face, but you couldn't help yourself.

Joel could only give you an unhappy look, knowing that you couldn't be stopped with it, as much as he might've tried. He wasn't in the mood to fight you, he wasn't ever really in the mood to fight you. Joel had sat up without a warning, almost causing whatever was left in the bowl to go flying. This earned a whack from you.

"Uhm, ow." He muttered, maybe you shouldn't have done that, added to his pain and all. "Gotta get goin', though." He didn't want to say that, you could tell. It was the tone that he said it in. You could only meet his gaze for a moment, "Stay the night." When someone was hurting like this, how could you say no. How could you turn your best friend away, and let him go home, when he wasn't okay?

You weren't expecting Joel to agree to stay, or at least not cave in without any convincing. It was strange, really, he was acting different. It had to have been the drugs that you had given him, you thought to yourself, maybe it had something that made you nicer to the people you're close with.

You had helped the man up, and left the dirty rag on the table. That was tomorrow (well, when you woke up)'s problem. You took his arm and wrapped it around your shoulders, helping him walk better. You would mother him about his limp and legs when he was recovered. Joel was holding onto you as he moved in sync with you to your room.

Once you got there, you had let go of him. He looked at you for a moment, before turning away. "Can ya', uh, help with my shirt?" He asked. You could only nod your head, maybe a bit too quick for your liking. "Yeah, o'course." Then, following what you just agreed to do, you grabbed the hems of the shirt Joel was wearing and helped to slide it off of him. This is what friends do, right?

You tried your best not to stare, you really did, but the marks on his chest pulled you in. After taking a moment longer to let your eyes linger, you pulled away and helped him under the comforter. "I'll take care'o those tomorrow." You had turned to make your way the door, to sleep on the couch, to give Joel as much space as he could. He grabbed your wrist, though, before you were able to get too far from him. "Can you, er, stay?"

Joel wasn't looking at you when he asked that, he was looking anywhere but. You wanted to stay, really did you, but you felt like you couldn't. "Listen, Joel, I want to, bu-" You were cut off by him interrupting you, "Please." Please. Joel Miller doesn't say please. This took you almost by shock, but you tried not to show it. You only nodded your head, and moved over to the other side of the bed.

You could feel Joel watching your every move, but you didn't care at this moment. You removed your pants, but kept your shirt undergarments on. You would call today a day of victories, not for Joel, but for you. He had listened to you so much, and didn't fight it. You wish it was under different circumstances, but a win is a win. You knew he wasn't up to his usual par, but it still counted.

It happened with a blink of an eye. First you were hesitant to get into the bed with him, not wanting any mixed signals to be sent at the current moment, next you were laying right beside him, and his current good arm wrapped around your waist. If Joel was happy, you were happy. The sounds of rain made it better, made it more peaceful for Joel. He could relax, and take his mind off of the pain he was feeling. This is what friends do for each other.

—

flawless, the neighbourhood

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webslingingslasher · 5 months

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subway meet cute?? 🥰

HI FRIEND HI!!!! IDK WHEN YOU SENT THIS CAUSE EVERYTHING GETS BURIED BUT HIIII!!!

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there had to be a convention in town. maybe the bridge was shut down. you've never seen the subway this packed. groups of bodies, shoulder to shoulder, huddled around yellow lines waiting to be picked up.

'a line is down.' your confusion must be all over your face, a stranger read it on you. 'everyone has to train hop now.'

you slowly nod, you understand the crowd better. people trying to get to work, frantic now knowing they'll be late. 'makes...' you trail, the pattern of words in your mind vanishes.

a quick glance at the stranger had you speechless, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. brown with a honey golden ring, the second was his light smile. proof he was just a naturally happy person.

plain clothes and a backpack on his shoulder, he doesn't like to stand out. headphones hanging out the collar of his shirt tells you he also doesn't like being bothered.

a quirk in his eyebrow when you take too long, you feel an urge to rub your thumb across the surface. his hair caught your attention, brown tuffs with a hint of a curl.

he was drop dead gorgeous. handsome, even. dare you say pretty?

his smile grows, just the hint of pearly white. your brain stutters, it jumps to life. '....sense. makes sense.'

'took you a minute to get there.'

you blink at him, it would be too cliche to say you were lost in his beauty. 'lost my train of thought for a second, no pun intended.' you nibble at your bottom lip before introducing yourself to him, smiling when he tells you his.

'nice to meet you, peter.' you can't stop looking at his face. 'nice to meet you too.' you gesture towards his bag, 'are you in school?' peter nods, 'empire state.' your jaw drops, 'no way, me too!'

'what year?'

'second.' peter laughs at the response, you know what he's about to say. 'yeah, me too.' you're not sure how you haven't crossed paths, but you're glad you are now.

the next train arrives, there's no use in fighting, you'll get the next one. peter's in the same boat.

'i'm sorry your a line went down.' you didn't sound sorry at all, in fact, you're not sure you would've ever met him if it hadn't. 'i'm not. i got to talk to a pretty girl this morning, that's the best start to any day.'

everything in you screams, for once, you've been rewarded.

'i have to agree with you. if your line didn't go down i wouldn't have a date with the most handsome guy on the platform.' peter has an instant blush, you want to bombard him with a million more compliments, it's clear he doesn't get them enough.

'i'm sorry, did you just ask me out? isn't that my job?'

you shrug, 'you took too long, i had to take matters into my own hands.' peter gives credit where credit is due, 'fine with me. i'll wear my best dress.'

you can't hold it back, it's an explosive smile. he's everything you could ever want, it's not fair to call someone perfect, but you swear he is and you've only known him for five minutes. what's the saying? when you know you know?

'i'll buy the corsage.'

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader

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gatorbites-imagines · 6 months

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Kinktober day 24

Tyler Durden and Jack “The Narrator” + masks and/or helmets

I’m sorry to anyone who was hoping for Jason Vorhees, but I’ve been watching my comfort movie (fight club) to destress from my assignments, so I got in the mood to write for these two.

Tyler is his own person in this, cuz I want both to go down on me at the same time, thats the only reason.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Welding had never been your plan for a job, especially not where you found yourself now. Low ranked and forced to do all the shit work your jackass boss couldn’t be assed to do, leaving you alone in the construction yard in the middle of the night, the welding tool hot and dangerous in your gloved hands as it cast an almost evil glow upon your welding helmet, the light reflecting off the glass that covered your eyes.

Imagine your surprise some group of jackasses show up at your construction site. They seemed surprised to see you as you turned around and slid up the front of your helmet to look at them, but the bags under your eyes and the dead look in them seemed to make them see you as one of their own. One of them was even polite enough to ask if they could use the yard for some kind of weird orgy club they had going on, or at least you thought it was an orgy club.

You shrugged and told them if they gave you fifty bucks a night, they could kill a guy there and you wouldn’t give a shit. Hey, there were at least ten guys, they could cough up five dollars each if they wanted to start wailing on each other as you worked.

This continued, multiple nights a week, because of course your shithead boss had you working extremely late hours every day for shit pay, and because of your lack of education and shitty upbringing you couldn’t just drop the job. The fifty bucks a night did help quite a lot, and at some point you didn’t even need to do all that extra work, but you kinda enjoyed watching all these pathetic meatheads and self-proclaiming alpha-males trying to show off just how tough they were by beating on each other.

You never took part in it, but “the guy in the welder helmet runs the place” became some kind of rumour, just because they paid you to let them use the place. Apparently, you not doing any of the fighting made them think you were some kind of bigshot, a member of “project mayhem”, whatever that was.

It might also have been the muscle you had packed on from years of physical labour and your less then friendly attitude that made them think you were more then you were. But hey, you kept welding, but kept half an eye on the group of blood thirsty men, a group that only seemed to grow every night. So much for an “exclusive” group.

One day some guy with ugly spiked hair and a douchey red leather jacket swaggered his way over to you as you half-assed a weld between a couple of pipes. He had a cigarette hanging between his lips, like a real asshole, as he leaned against the pipe you were trying to weld, messing up your already shitty work. You could do a lot better, but you were in no way paid enough to care.

You could tell he was trying to antagonise you, as he would start showing up every night this so-called fight club happened, always trying to push your buttons, and even once putting out his cigarette against the one way glass protecting your eyes.

You were great at ignoring fools like him, so none of his actions got the reaction he seemed so starved for. The one that really caught your attention was this scrawnier guy, who looked like he hadn’t slept in months. It was like watching a corpse walking around, but something unleashed inside him when he fought. It was like a rabid dog with a piece of meat, it made your insides boil.

It was him that finally got you to join the fight, though you spat at their rules, keeping your welding helmet on, because why not, it looked sexy. You could definingly tell your years of labour had served you well from the way some of the guys around the place were looking at you, like they wanted to fight you or fuck you, maybe both.

The sleep deprived corpse, who you later learned was named Jack, tried his damn best to get the upper hand on you. But your uncle used to breed pitbulls and other types of large fighting dogs, so scruffing him and putting him in the ground was too damn easy. The erection on his pants wasn’t hard to see either, but you’d seen enough of this circle-jerk of a club to know it was normal, adrenaline, they always said.

You honestly had no idea how you found yourself in the situation you would find yourself in weeks later. You had finally started taking part in a couple of fights, but the helmet always stayed on no matter how much anyone complained, and you only really cared to fight Jack.

Even when the fucker in the red leather jacket whined and draped himself across you. You learned he was Tyler Durden, apparently him and Jack created this Fight Club junk. Tyler annoyed you though, always talking about society and changing it, you had clocked him once when he just wouldn’t shut up.

One day you found yourself packing down your gear, fight club had ended early today for some reason, you didn’t pay attention to that stuff, you were just there for a show. Tyler had been the first to pull up on you, Jack following not far behind, and when you had grunted what they wanted, Tyler had pounced like an overexcited puppy.

He had started licking the helmet you wore, his spit streaking across the glass of your mask, his breath leaving a foggy texture against it as you gripped onto his jaw, your work rough hands gripping hard enough to definitely leave a bruise.

Tyler was groaning like hed been shot, moaning something about how hot that stupid helmet was, and how sexy you were because you never took it off. You almost threw him across the yard when you felt hands undoing your belt. Snapping your head down you saw Jack on his knees in front of you, he had a busted lip and a black eye, but it somehow added to his charm.

His lips were soft, and his tongue was slightly hesitant as he started sucking you off, Tyler groaning and panting into the metal of your helmet, that was close to where your mouth would have been. You could feel him slobbering all over you, his tongue probably picking up all the grime the helmet had collected over the many weeks you’d gone without cleaning it.

Tylers slobbering was starting to get annoying, so with a grunt you gripped kicked his knees out from under him, making him crash to his knees with a painful crack against the pavement. His eyes seemed to lock on where Jack had been licking and almost worshipping your cock with his mouth, spit and drool dripping off of you and his mouth as he looked up at you with large blown pupils.

Tyler, the attention starved fool he was quickly butted in, his higher skilled tongue started to lap at the base of your length, even ducking in between your thighs to mouth as your sack. You couldn’t help but snort as you ran your gloved fingers through Jacks short hair in an almost loving manner, whilst also gripping and twisting in Tylers gelled hair with the other hand.

Something about seeing their reflection in the reflective glass of your welding helmet only seemed to excitement further, especially Tyler as he drooled, barely even seeming to make an inkling of an effort to keep spit in his mouth. Jack seemed at least a little shy about it, avoiding looking at himself but somehow always ending back at his reflection.

You didn’t tell them you were close, but they seemed to notice from how your hips twitching or your grunting grew rougher. Tyler almost shoved Jack aside to start tonguing at your tip right beside Jack, their tongues rubbing up against each other around your tip in some kind of French kiss.

Tyler had been moaning and groaning loudly the entire time, seemingly getting off at the volume of his noises, where Jack had been more subdued but still present. There was almost a battle of their tongues as you came, spurting white across wet wiggling muscles that tried to catch as much of it as possible.

Surprisingly, or maybe not to surprising, Tyler roughly grabbed Jack and started making out with him like he was trying to swallow him whole when you finished, swapping the mixture of spit and cum between them like a pair of starved animals. You scoffed a small laugh at the sight of them almost humping each other as they kept rubbing their tongues together obscenely, and here you thought Fight Club was a good show.

Tucking yourself back into your pants, you patted them both on the head to get their attention. When they finally pulled away from their sloppy sorry excuse of a kiss to look up at you, you pushed up the welders’ helmet and looked at them, quirking a questioning brow.

That seemed to be enough to get them going, the two almost skittering after you as you started trekking back to your bucket of a car to head home, your roommate would have to put up with the noises you knew you were gonna rip out of those two, so what if you had to keep the helmet on, they were right, it was kinda hot.

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kxxkiecxre · 1 year

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ʚ✟⃛ɞ LANGUAGE || J.J.K ʚ✟⃛ɞ

PAIRING: Jungkook X reader.

SUMMARY: forgive and forget… with a little dick on the side of course to make up for it.

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, a lot of titty talk, a lot of hickeys, Jungkook has a big dick 🫣, so much kissing, Yeji is literally in the other room???, overstimulation cause purrrr, biting… I think that’s it? Lol

GENRE: best friends brother au.

Unedited because I bitch couldn’t be bothered… tbf tho I did edit a small bit but I hate editing so 🤭

WC: 5.3k

PREVIOUSLY… NEXT…

JUST LIKE many other people that surrounded you at the shop, you were tired, aching and internally screaming as you approached the lengthy queue, hoping to god another till opens up so you can get out of here as fast as possible and get home take a shower and sleep.

It’s been quite in the recent five months that you’ve last spoken to Jungkook, and like any good friends you and Yeji still hang out and talk. Which proved to be a little harder at first then you expected, but to your luck Jungkook has left for a match in America a couple days ago, so you and Yeji get to finally have a much needed sleepover at her place.

Rolling your neck around and trying your best to not fall asleep in the middle of the shop. As if to wake you up, a shopping cart bumps into you, and you whip around to look at the culprit, only to find two tiny hands holding onto the bar.

“Oh sorry!” The kid mumbles cutely, a floppy mess of hair on top of his head.

“Where’s your dad handsome?” You questioned, finally meeting the babies eyes, warm gentle and sweet.

“He said he’ll be back in two seconds” he smiled cutely, “and I’m five today!”

“Oh wow you’re five? Well happy birthday buddy” you smile just as you see his dad, a drop dead gorgeous man, approach.

“Thank you” he chuckles happily.

“I’m sorry, I hope he didn’t cause too much trouble” his dad, a tall beautiful Angel apologies.

Almost like you’re in a trance you softly say, “he’s a sweet kid, I don’t think you have to worry about him causing trouble”.

“Dad, can I ask her name?” The kid asks as his dad lifts him up in his arms.

“Well that depends if the lady will tell you her name.” He shrugs chuckling.

“I’m Y/N, what about you?”

“My name is roowon and this is my dad Seokjin!” He announces proudly.

“Nice to meet you guys!” You coo at him as he gives the sweetest smile to you.

Within small talk you exchanged numbers with Seokjin, promising to have dinner together as soon as both of your schedules clear up. And however much you may like about Seokjin, whose divorced from his wife for a year now, you can’t seem to stop thinking about someone who wasn’t even yours in the first place or the pain that comes with it.

Finding comfort in the warmth of your house did very little, and as much as you like the taste of your favourite wine, you know it won’t suffice the emptiness within you. Not even in a million years, but it does the job of keeping you calm.

However it doesn’t stop you from calling Jimin, and don’t get it wrong the sex is amazing, and Jimin is great. He’s apologised for what went down, and choosing pleasure over pain was too good to let go. You’re not one to hold grudges anyway, you’d rather forgive and forget.

But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what you needed, what you craved for. It wasn’t what you knew would settle the pain. And you felt awful about it, because Jimin was more than understanding as he laid beside you. Any woman would be lucky to have him, he’s a great person. The perfect guy even. The thing about you though, is you don’t fancy perfect. You like the waves that come with life, you adapted to that life. It’s all you know, since forever.

And life is just that, wavy, rocky and unsettled. But it’s comforting, it’s home. And Jimin… Jimin deserves better than that, he deserved someone as loving and perfect like him. He’s an Angel, an Angel you haven’t yet grown to appreciate. Which is ridiculous. Laughable. Stupid, even. Because any other sensible woman would ground him, marry him in a heart beat, and perhaps in another life you could see yourself with him. Having a family and a loving home, but at this moment? I’m this life? You don’t even know what the true meaning of a loving home is. You just don’t.

You’ve never had the comfort of your mothers embrace, or the comfort of your fathers protection. You’ve only ever had yourself. When you were little you’d cry yourself to sleep, you’d hug your own little body and comfort yourself the way your parents couldn’t. You didn’t have anyone to care for you, to worry about your late returns home on a night out. Your parents didn’t even have your number saved in their phone. They just didn’t care.

From a young age, you learned to fend for yourself. Cook, clean, and eventually make money to afford the things you needed, the things your own parents couldn’t provide.

The only thing you do remember, is the beatings, the way your skin would burn with every slap, whip and hit. The way you eventually stopped crying for them to stop, or the way your teenage self would wash away the blood or cover up the bruises. You knew all about that. You knew all too well how the rage in your fathers eyes was the only sense of comfort or attention you’ve ever gotten from him, the way your mother would grab onto your skin and dig her nails in, the way she’d scream and insult you and wish upon your death, that was the only touch of ‘love’ you’ve ever expected from her, the only attention you’ve ever received from them was just that, abuse. Neglect and pain.

Feeling loved, cared about and needed was more than welcome, but it was also more than strange. So maybe it wasn’t understandable, why you’d get slightly uncomfortable when someone would show you love, or kindness, and why you pushed away the people closest to you when they cared and worried about you because you never actually knew what it was before, so you weren’t used to it, so you pushed them away.

It’s bizarre how you want to love someone, to care and worry about them, yet don’t know how to feel about that being returned to you. You don’t know.

You carry the scars well though, they’re fairly easy to cover up and pretend like you’ve had the most general upbringing known to humanity. It’s, amazing.

Tiredness takes over you, and you finally fall asleep. Jimin watched the calmness on your face, covering you with the blanket more and exhaling. He knew about everything, he knew. He’s seen it too, maybe that’s why he knows you so well, he kisses your forehead before leaving your apartment and leaving a note.

The difficulty of waking up in the morning never gets easier, especially when you expected a warm body next to you, except to find it empty and cold. Confusion taking over your face as you roll out of bed, throwing on whatever first lands in your hands.

Your concern gets even worse when you notice the small letter on your kitchen counter, labelled Jimin.

You know better than to continue wasting time, I know you can never love me the way I’ve loved you for years, but within these years, I’ve learned that our souls are intertwined anyway, because I know exactly what you need, what you crave and what hurts you. I know it all in an instant. It’s almost like my body needs it too, and right the second I met him, I knew. I knew you were madly in love with him, I knew then, I had no chance. So within my frustration, I drank, far too much and let my mouth run. I am sorry. I know I apologised already, but I truly am sorry. You didn’t deserve it. I’ll move on eventually, I’ll learn to love someone else, like I’ve learned to keep your eyes staring into mine somewhere In the back of my mind, like I’ve learned to desensitise the scent of your hair away from my senses, or the need to feel your soft skin against my fingers. I’ve learned to love you from a distance, to care and appreciate you as much as I can because I knew that eventually, you’d fell in love with someone, that someone not being me was hard to accept at first, but it got easier. But stop the pettiness, fix the mess and go to him, you deserve love. You deserve to be happy, so be just that.

Happy,

Jimin.

That was absolutely not what you expected first thing in the morning, or the tears in your eyes. Or the guilt your body felt knowing you were unintentionally hurting Jimin. You wish it was easier. Easier to learn to love someone you don’t crave in that way. Easier to make yourself fall in love with someone who deserves you. You wish it was easy.

But nothing in life comes easy.

No, every step and breathe you take comes with effort. With every take want and need, you have to give. For the basic essentials and human life, you have to work. All day, all night, all life. Eternally. Everything has to be earned, because nothing. Absolutely nothing, comes free.

Work. Most of the time you hate it, but recently, it’s become your favourite place. You can take your mind off of everything going on in your life, invoke your mind with something else other than him. The person who so cruelly cut a hole in your heart and stole it, put it in his pocket and let it rot. How inhumane.

The bustle of the busy streets of Seoul always comforted you in some type of way. The many lights and many different people, styles and aesthetics made you feel alive, safe and not alone in this big city. It was easy to lose yourself once you were in it, but living here for half your life proved to help you out in some way.

“Mr. Kim wants you in his office.. pronto” Hoseok hands you your coffee, clicking number 9 on the elevator and you roll your eyes.

“I swear to almighty Jesus if he just wants to stare at me for five minutes and then ask me to order him lunch I will literally murder him with my hands” you grumble, obviously not amused.

“I don’t think that’s it…” he mumbles.

Sighing you walk out in a rush once the elevator dings, nodding a thank you to Hobi for getting you the much needed coffee. Preparing yourself for anything and everything outside of Kim’s office you finally enter the door, where he stands in almighty glory, looking good as ever.

“Y/N, please take a seat” he says, and you do, sitting in front of his desk and reading the name tag ‘CEO Kim Taehyung’ in pure awkwardness as he stares at you and then a letter.

“You need a break,” he takes a sip of his coffee as if the words he just said hurt him deeply, “take it and go before I throw a fit”

Shocked and taken a back you begin to protest, “hold on, Taehyung, no”.

“It’s Mr.Kim at work dumbass, now go before I literally slap you”

“But-“

“No but’s, unless we are talking about the other type of butts” he smirks chuckling.

“Tae are you pulling a prank on me?”

“Y/NNNAAAH, be professional and call me Mr.Kim” he whines dramatically.

“Shut up before I kick you in the balls,” you grumble, “why?”

“Because you’ve worked hard and as your only other male best friend aside from Hoseok, I am adamant on you getting a break before the bags under your eyes sue me”

“Oh don’t be dramatic,” you stand from your chair scoffing, “I’m fine, now let me get back to work”

“No can do workacholic,” he sets his mug on the table, “it’s home or the security guard will kick you out… or I’ll fire you.”

Shocked and gasping quite dramatically you say, “you would never.”

“Wanna find out?” He continues threatening.

“Kim Taehyung wait till I tell your father how manipulative you are” you practically growl at him as he pushes you other the door, and before he can take his hand away from your shoulder you bite him as hard as you can.

Flinching and gasping he looks flabbergasted as you straighten your back and sway your hips on the way out, “you are insane Y/N, INSANE” he yells after you.

At the elevator, once again, you ponder what to do now. Work was like your best distraction every since everything went down, Tae did a good job helping you mould yourself together and not to mention how considerate and sweet he was during that time. Taehyung’s wife was just a replica of him, except even better because she was a woman, and understood certain matters better than him.

Regardless, you sighed, opening your messages app and clicking onto Seokjin’s contact, messaging him a short “hey, off work for a couple days, want to have dinner soon?” And locked your phone again when the elevator reached third floor.

“Jung Hoseok, you dirty little cheating work husband, I will grab your balls and tie them in a knot the next time you choose to lie to me” you squint your eyes at him as you sit at the edge of his desk, watching as he gulps a little.

“I can explain,” he offers.

“No need, tell Yoongs to leave me a free space in a couple days hmm?”

“Can’t you ring him yourself-“

“He’s your roommate Jung, please he’ll listen to you more because you’re like number one best friends brothers thingy” you sigh rolling your neck around to release the gas that’s stuck.

“You’re so sly sometimes babe” he kissed his teeth as he leaned back into his chair.

“Mmm wonder where I got that from huh?”

Rolling his eyes with a small chuckle, he runs a hand through his dark hair, “you’re lucky I love you”

“On the contrary, you’re lucky I love you” you smiled.

“Besides, why do you need yoongi?”

Silence, dead silence fell into the atmosphere and Hobi figured you out in less than three seconds, “really?”

You nodded, biting your lip “a tattoo? I mean are you sure? Like that’s permanent?”

“Hoseok I know what a tattoo is” you dead pan, “I’ve been thinking of getting one for awhile anyway…”

His eyes turn worried for a minute, as he very gently speaks, “and you’re not just acting out because of you know….. Jungkook?”

Blinking you scoff, “you’re threading on thin ice Jung,” you get off his desk, leaning over him as you stare him dead in the eyes, face too close for comfort, “no man could make me do anything.”

Once you’re a safe distance from him, he lets out a breath shuddering a little, “do you forget I am a man sometimes?”

“No,” you smile sweetly, “I love watching you squirm because of me babe”

“I’m gonna divorce you”

“Awe too bad love, work couples can’t divorce.”

“Aren’t you suppose to be going home? Should I get Taehyung?”

Mouth falling open your eyes turn into slits and Hoseok prepares himself for the mouth full he’s about to get, “I will bite you and him. I won’t hesitate Jung Hoseok, besides keep messing with me and I’ll quit, no more seeing me no more free coffee and homemade lunch bitch” you walk away with a scoff.

Hoseok rushes towards you, desperately trying to catch up, “please not the homemade lunch,”

“Pfft, good luck sucker, he’s given me a week off” you stick your tongue out like a child once the elevator dings and the doors close.

“I’ve got both because I didn’t know what to choose” you mutter cutely as you set the wine and grocery bag on the counter.

Yeji stands beside you, eyes big and bright and expression that of a mellow kitten, like a child whose sipped on the most heavenly hot chocolate, “I missed you.”

Your heart skips a beat, internally beating yourself up for neglecting her during this whole thing. You awe as you hug her tightly, the smell of her strawberry shampoo never changing, “I’ve missed you too Ji.”

“I’m sorry, he can be an asshole sometimes but he shouldn’t be able to get between us” she mutters into your hair.

Your chest tightens as you hear her sniffle, she didn’t deserve this. You shouldn’t of done this to her, made her suffer with you. You’ve been a bad friend and you can recognise that, and you feel like utter shit about it because Yeji is priceless, she’s a diamond in disguise.

“I am so so sorry Yeji, I shouldn’t have let him get between us.”

The rest of the night was spent eating junk food and consuming an unhealthy amount of wine. As SpongeBob plays in the background and you apply the tiger sheet face mask on Yejis face you begin to tell her about Seokjin and Roowon.

“Was he good looking?”

“Oh ‘Ji,” you sigh heavily, “if you’ve only seen him, he’s like an Angel. God he’s gorgeous”

“Yah thats not fair! I wanna see him now”

“I’ll try sneak a picture of him when I’ll see him for dinner?”

Just as you say that, the sound of the hallway door dinging interrupts you, and both you and Yeji exchange looks of concern.

“Ji? I’m home, I hope you have no guy over because I’ll kick him out” the sound of his voice shakes everything inside of you. Everything becomes unstable like a poorly structured building during an earthquake.

Yeji looks at you sorrowfully, “yeah im here”

“The match got rescheduled so I thought I’d surprise you,” his voice faded it out as you didn’t dare to look his way, instead choosing to look at the wooden floor as your knees raised more inward towards to your chest, as if to protect your heart.

The silence was deafening, excruciating as all three of you didn’t know what to say, and you closed your eyes briefly as you cleared your throat, “I, Um, I can go?”

“No” Yeji immediately calls out, her voice, although not loud, seemed to echo off the walls as if even the furniture in the apartment froze in place, speechless.

“I’ll stay out the way don’t worry Ji” he mutters, pecking her head quickly before disappearing into the bathroom.

Yeji looked at you full of guilt, beginning to apologise but you stopped her, “it’s not your fault, plus we’re adults Ji, we can stay in the same room without hurting each other I promise. You’ve nothing to worry about, I’m okay.”

“I didn’t know he was going to be back” she continues, full of guilt.

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s okay. He’s your brother, besides, it’s not like I hate him. I still love him Ji, he was my best friend, that’ll never go away”.

For the rest of Jungkooks evening, all he had heard was your laughter. It rang through his body like an electric shock and he regretted everything. He hated himself for letting this drag on for this long, he hated that he couldn’t be there with you, laughing and sharing jokes like usually.

He drowned himself in everything possible to avoid hearing the conversation about a guy you met and how amazing he was, he worked, listened to music, texted his friends. But nothing worked.

And as the night died down and the house was consumed with silence. He laid on his bed, reminiscing the moments were he was your best friend. He remembered the time you went strawberry picking, you were dressed in the cutest outfit imaginable, a faded pink and white checkered dress, with pink wellies. Hair tied back in a bun with a strawberry claw clip.

He remembered how you shared the entire summer together, how he thought you to swim and how excited you were to be able to go to the depths of the ocean with him. How in love he was with you in the moment, the way your big surprised eyes stared into his as he dived underneath the water and came back up behind you, the way you’d call him Kookie in the times you needed him the most.

He remembers how you hate thunderstorms. How he spent the entire night with you on your couch, letting you cuddle into him and falling asleep in his lap.

It exactly that he regrets.

He regrets that he ruined the way you felt comfortable and safe around him and now he fears you’ll never be like that again.

For what seems like hours, Jungkook tosses and turns in his bed. Huffing in slight annoyance that his brain won’t shut off. Leaving his room in a haste he enters the kitchen, stilling for a moment as he sees you sat on the kitchen island, legs kicking back and forth as if you’re in deep thought.

He felt creepy standing there watching you eat your favourite cherry chocolates, the ones that had liquor inside. He remembers how much you love them.

He couldn’t go back to his room now, that’d be too awkward, especially since you’ve locked eyes with him for a mere second through the glass of the cupboards. He cleared his throat gently, going to the fridge to get his favourite whiskey, he could feel your presence behind him and he knew you were looking but you were stubborn.

You would not be the first one to say a word, he knows that, which is why he reaches for a second glass and fills both of them, turning to you with sad eyes, his hand extends toward you, holding the glass of whiskey outward, not thinking much you take it from him, throwing the liquid to the back of your throat and sighing. He does the same.

“I’m,” he clears his tight voice, “I’m sorry”.

You say nothing, biting your lip as he continues on, “I was out of line for the things I said. I’m aware, but I couldn’t help but feel protective. I’m sorry.”

“I was only angry because I have begged you to not get disqualified because of me, but you did that despite all of my begging” you whispered, barely audible and staring ahead as he looked at the side of your face.

“I’m sorry,” he swallows the lump in his throat, “I really am”.

“I know” is all you say. Not really giving him much aside from pushing the box of chocolate towards him.

“I miss you,” he mutters, “I miss having you in my life”.

Finally, as if your heart couldn’t take it, you look right into his eyes and he swears his knees buckle a little, despite your eyes looking a little sad, you smile gently at him, “I miss you too”.

“I never meant to say all those things, god Y/N, if I could go back in time” he closes his eyes. You pull on his shirt, pulling him between your legs as you hug him.

“Well you can’t,” you muffle in his chest as his arms tighten around you, “but, you can make it up to me?”.

You feel him nod as he not so sneakily sniffs your scent, “you can take Yeji out tomorrow, spend some quality time with her. She’s worried about you Kook, she needs her brother, she needs just a little bit of your time”.

He hugs you tighter, kissing your head, “I promise I will”.

You pull away, smiling gently at him as you peck his cheek, “good”.

You don’t know wether it was the buzz from the whiskey and alcohol infused chocolates, but whatever it was, it made your eyes drop to his lips. God he looked so good, hair messy and his sleeve on display. Fuck was he beautiful.

Almost like he could smell your slightly horny phase, he leans in deeper, eyes darkened a deep shade and his hand innocently laid on your waist, “you ok?” He asks.

Asshole, “yeah” your voice came out a little breathy within your whisper, and your entire aura soaked Jungkook in shudders. The way you were sat, legs spread to accommodate him between them, white shirt doing absolutely nothing to cover your perky pierced nipples.

He couldn’t take it anymore, and neither could you.

Looking into his eyes, your lips separated, inviting him in as your noses ever so gently brushed against each other, his hooded gaze solemnly fixated on your lips, and yours on his eyes, “what are you doing to me y/n” his voice husky, whispering in your ear.

“Kiss me Jungkook” your breathing got heavier and so has his, and he shook his head gently, scoffing in denial as your lips brushed past each other.

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck,” you gasped, as he licked your earlobe, what a fucking tease, “yes Jungkook”.

Not wasting anymore time he attached his lips on yours, moving them in rhythm as he basically abused the flesh, barely giving you any time to catch your breath as he switched his head from side to side, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in closer, you could feel yourself growing wet, soaking your panties as you grabbed onto his shirt, nails digging into his skin as your hands travelled to his back, within pulling each other closer neither of you realised how close you have gotten, too immersed in the smacking of your lips as your core rubbed against his, hard and poking through his tracksuits.

You moaned right into his mouth and he swallowed it up, fuck he’d do anything for you. He’s dreamt of feeling your lips on his for years. His mouth travelled from your swollen lips to your neck, “fuck take my shirt of Kook”.

He could nut right there as you gave him all these orders, but he listened, slipping your shirt off to find your perky tits so ready for his mouth, he laid you back against the cool counter his mouth never giving up his abuse on your skin, marking nipping anywhere possible but the neck, he couldn’t be bothered to explain to his sister. He sucked bruises onto your boobs, hearing your quiet moans as he took one nipple into his mouth, twirling the pink nub with his tongue, before moving onto the other, but not before biting each nipple gently, the cold that was left on your nipples after his warm mouth worked you up even more as he trailed his kisses down your stomach, to your hips, once again sucking biting and bruising, fuck he loved your skin.

“Take your shirt of” you mumble quietly, taking your tits in your hands and rubbing the nipples in small circles, fuck he did not expect to ever see you like this. Sprawled out on his kitchen island, hands on your boobs and your panties sporting a wet patch on your clothed pussy telling him just how turned on your are right now. Shit.

His mouth latched onto your thighs before moving onto your clothes pussy, smothering his face in the warmth of it as you gasped quite loudly, smacking your hand on your mouth to keep quiet. Fuck. His tongue ran a strip from the bottom to the top, the fact that the only material keeping his tongue from touching you directly was your underwear was driving you insane.

“Kook fuck me already”

“I don’t have a condom” he said against you.

“Fuck im clean and on the pill”

“I’m clean too”

Without any more words, he helped you up, taking your panties to the side and taking his grey sweats down his legs. Fuck. His dick was hot, long and thick, tip red and oozing precum.

Fucking hell.

He ran his tip up and down your pussy, collecting your arousal before he eased gently inside you. Letting you adjust to him. You could feel him everywhere, his throbbing tip kissing your cervix as he bottomed out. And fuck were you so full, so deliciously full of him. With the way you relaxed he knew you were ready, slowly and carefully moving in and out, his hand found purchase on your shoulder, pushing you down gently as he watched the way your tits bounced slowly.

The way you moaned so quietly and the way your chest heaved, fuck you were absolutely ravishing to watch. Your skin was marked by his lips everywhere, stomach littered in bruises, hips and tits too, everywhere but your neck and it looked so inviting right now, begging for him to give it the same attention, and before he could think straight, he went for it, nipping at the skin of your neck as his body leaned fully into yours, before you could even take a breath he picked up the pace, smacking his hips lewdly into yours, his balls slapping of your ass as the noise bounced around the room. The sound your lips made as your lips connected once again adding to the mix.

It was hot, it was wet and it was loud. But it felt amazing, it felt too good to stop. The way he ramming into, hitting all the right spots as you mewled underneath him, the knot in your stomach tightening at the feel of his tip abusing your cervix, but before you could release he sat you up, edging your ass to almost be off the counter before he gripped onto it and hammered himself into you, the only rational part of you hid your face in his neck, moaning as he fucked right into you, he tugged onto your hair as he leaned his forehead into yours, both of you watching the way his dick disappeared into your swollen cunt, and then it hit you, like a ton of bricks, you clenched around him, your legs twitching slightly as you came around him, your orgasm hurting in all the right ways like if you were electrocuted, you could feel it from your toes to your head.

He was close behind, his hips stilling as his dick throbbed, twitching the slightest bit before he coated your walls white. Leaning against your palms on the counter you tried catching your breath again, and before you could say anything, he was on his knees, his mouth latching onto your clit as you yelped, sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“Kook I can’t”

“Yes you can baby,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by your pussy, “for me”

Groaning you gasped as he sucked onto your clit, twirling your sensitive nub with his tongue as he eased his finger into you, hooking it up and fucking you slowly.

The mix of mouth and finger was intoxicating the way he was making out with your pussy was sinful but you couldn’t get enough, especially not when your legs shook, your eyes teared up and his hands soothed your legs, he switched his finger and tongue, fucking you slowly with his warm tongue and drawing figure eights onto your clit and fuck you couldn’t take it.

Slapping down your hand on the counter you moaned his name as you came for the second time this night, legs shaking and chest heaving as he stood up, kissing your lower belly before he grinned above you.

“What do you say for round three in the bathroom?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A/N: part three? I mean they haven’t resolved much except for some steamy sex? 🤭

MASTERLIST

NO REPOSTING, EDITING, TRANSLATION OR COPYING OF ANY OF MY WORKS!

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cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— guard dog 01 ⟢

pairing: thoma x assassin!reader

summary: you’re a skilled mercenary who takes odd jobs all around inazuma to make ends meet. so when the shogunate hires you to assassinate the lady of the kamisato clan, you don’t think much of it. that’s until you grossly miscalculate how good of a guard dog her chief retainer actually is.

word count: 5.5k words

notable characters: thoma, kamisato ayaka

tags: found family, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

warnings: drugging attempts, assassination attempts

notes: i'll be posting chapters one to thirteen everyday at double intervals! this is one of the fics i'm immensely proud of writing, so i hope you like it hehe :')

header art cr: n0yunn on twt

masterlist

You’ve always wondered what the Kamisatos of old had been thinking when they decided to build a mansion by the cliffs of Mount Yougou.

First, you’d either have to make the trek up the mountain or navigate your way through Chinju Forest. The locals of Narukami Island already regarded that place warily—with all the talk about bake-danuki kidnapping lost children in the cover of night, never to be seen again.

And then there was the sudden drop all the way to the rocky shores of the coastline below. One wrong move, and you might just find yourself dead on the beach if you carelessly traipse around the edges of the property.

But you knew, more than most, that the natural terrain wasn’t what made the Kamisato Estate so difficult to breach.

The guards of the Yashiro Commission were stationed uniformly across the area—looking intimidating enough to send any amateur thief packing. One could tell from a glance that these guys had years of training under their belts.

After all, they were guarding one of the three noble households in Inazuma. But it’s not like anyone who knew about Kamisato clan and its retainers was stupid enough to cross them like that.

Unless, of course, they were you.

A flock of birds flew overhead from your vantage point, momentarily distracting you from the task at hand. It was nearing sundown again, and the princess should be tending to the sand gardens right about—

“Now,” you whispered, biting down on a lavender melon as you watched the scene unfold.

Normally, scouting your targets from a perch so high up was impossible. But your employers were generous enough to supply you with a pair of binoculars for the job. You were never one to tinker with any Fontainian contraption imported into the country, but if it works, it works.

Now here you were, hidden away in one of the slated slopes of the mountain as Kamisato Ayaka stepped out into the foyer to admire the scenic view.

She strode gracefully into the garden, rake in hand before gazing out into the open sea. The waning sunlight glittered across the surface in warm tones, and you would have been mesmerized too, if the circumstances had been any different.

Still, this was a sight Ayaka saw everyday, and the princess spared no time soaking up the scenery longer than she had to.

This was your seventh day of lying in wait—familiarizing yourself with each person who went in and out of the estate at all hours of the day. Where they went, what they did, who they spoke to.

Well, not really. Even a dedicated mercenary like you had to take some breaks in-between. But one week was enough for you to memorize the daily habits of the Yashiro Commission.

A greenhorn would never have noticed the way they loosened security in the first hour of twilight. Only five guards out of the original ten stationed outside would remain, and the others would be invited to eat dinner inside the pavilion.

After twenty or-so minutes, they would switch with the guards that stayed behind—rinse and repeat.

During this momentary give in their defenses, though, Ayaka would trace circles into the sand garden in quiet meditation.

Vulnerable. Exposed.

If you decided to take her out with a bow and arrow, gravity would favor you in more ways than one. But you were a shit archer at best, and there was…something else that threw a wrench in your plans. A wildcard in your weeklong observation period that you just couldn’t pin down no matter how many alternatives you tried to come up with.

The lavender melon turned bitter in your mouth once you caught sight of him.

Thoma was someone that’s very hard to miss. You’ve seen him a couple of times around Ritou—all golden hair and swindling smiles—but you never once dared to make his acquaintance. Fixers were crafty people by nature, and you’d rather not get outfoxed by someone like him by any means.

In fact, your constant avoidance was finally bearing fruit now that you’ve been entrusted with the assassination of Kamisato Ayaka.

But while everyone else in the Yashiro Commission stuck with their day-to-day routines faithfully, Thoma seemed like he always just acted on a whim. That man had no concept of routine at all.

Unlike Ayaka who committed herself to her own schedule without fail, Thoma was someone who did something different everyday.

In hindsight, it was expected. He was an undercover fixer—of course his daily to-do list wasn’t patterned the same way as everyone else’s.

The other day, Thoma left the estate at the crack of dawn only to come back a few hours after midnight.

Yesterday, he leveled the hedges as he watched Ayaka practice her swordsmanship in the courtyard.

And now, after bidding a few words in farewell to his charge, he was walking out of the estate with a carefree hint to his strides. If you drew any closer, you might even hear him whistling.

Case in point: this wasn’t the first time you were hired to kill a noble. It was, however, the first time you’ve had to deal with a variable that’s as unpredictable as Thoma.

You watched him take the path that led to Chinju Forest through your binoculars—tossing the stem of your lavender melon to the side. He was probably headed to Inazuma City from the looks of it.

Patiently, you waited until Thoma’s form disappeared into the mist before heaving a long sigh in relief.

Now that he was out of the way, you could afford some room to think.

Admittedly, you weren’t sure why the shogunate even contacted someone like you to carry this out. You were nothing but a lone swordswoman who took on odd jobs to make ends meet. Killing other people for money wasn’t exactly above your moral compass, but could your feats be impressive enough for the Tenryou Commission to seek you out personally?

“Kill the girl and make it seem as if the Sangonomiya rebels were behind it,” said Kujou Masahito, the night he and his men found you. “We’ve been in a stalemate long enough.”

It was a tall order, now that you thought about it. What person in their right mind would accept a mission to: one, infiltrate the Kamisato estate; two, murder the lady of the house; and three, frame the resistance for the act? Sure, the Tenryou Commission practically offered you millions of mora in exchange, but was all that really worth risking your neck for?

However, asking questions wasn’t something you did with your clients. Whoever they were, whatever their motives, so long as they came to you, offering the right price, you would see the job done.

Your discretion has always made you quite the favorite in the Inazuman underworld, and you’d prefer if things stayed that way.

Rising from your aching haunches, you shoved the binoculars into a knapsack. You then cast the estate below a sidelong glance. The sun had long set, and a slew of yellow lanterns lit up the courtyard.

You could see Ayaka being escorted back inside the house by one of her attendants, possibly to join her brother for dinner as well. You paid it no mind.

You’ll allow her some last moments of serenity before putting an end to her life.

About two hours before midnight, you descended from your perch—ducking behind trees while skilfully evading the guards’ line of sight. You quietened your footsteps as you approached the building in which the estate’s denizens resided.

There was no need for you to draw this close, as you’ve already gleaned most of what you needed to know from a distance, but…

It was about time for the princess’ nightly routine. An elegant dance performed beneath the moonlight—with her signature fan scattering white snowflakes in the height of summer.

You’ve heard about the Shirasagi Himegimi’s mesmerizing performances in passing. How she was always the star of every cultural festival in Amakame Island.

You were only human, so you were naturally inclined to be curious. And it’s not as if seeing her dance in the moonlit foyer will derail your plans.

But you’d been a few minutes too late, it seemed. Because now, Ayaka was seated by the edge of the pavilion, gazing silently at the clear sky above. In her hands was a teacup patterned with herons in flight—one of her favorite pieces.

To a normal onlooker (A.K.A., anyone who didn’t spend seven days deliberately stalking her), Ayaka didn’t seem the type to drink tea all by herself. She had an entire Commission’s worth of company, and she could always ask one of her retainers to sit down and nurse a few drinks with her.

But you’ve come to realize that the princess was someone who didn’t like disturbing others—regardless of how minimal the disturbance might be.

Kamisato Ayato took charge of the political dabblings of the Yashiro Commission. Kamisato Ayaka was the face of the clan; the heart of the people; adored by each and every person who knew her by name.

But…why did she look so lonely?

“Milady, you shouldn’t be staying up so late.”

The sound of Thoma’s voice made you seize up like a cat tossed into a basin of water—making you reflexively duck behind the rigid walls on the side of the house. There were no lanterns on this side of the estate, so the darkness should be able to conceal you well enough.

“I was waiting for you to return,” Ayaka admitted aloud, the sound of her sandals scraping against the stone-littered path ringing in your ears. “I…I would have had a hard time falling asleep either way—knowing not everyone is safely back in the mansion at this hour.”

You arched an eyebrow but continued listening in.

“Oh?” There’s a hint of amusement in Thoma’s tone. “Even if I specifically informed you earlier that I might not be back until tomorrow noon, you still waited? Milady, you honor me, but I can’t continue imposing such—”

“You’re not imposing,” Ayaka sighed, and it’s the first time you've heard her sound so…exasperated. But then again, Ayaka was only ever this animated in the company of her chief retainer. “As one of the leaders of the Yashiro Commission, it’s my responsibility to ensure the well-being of my retainers.”

“Isn’t it the other way around, though?” Thoma laughed, and you got the impression that you were intruding on something you weren’t supposed to. (A little too late to have those sentiments now, but you still had some integrity, at least.) “Well, I know there’s no changing your mind when it is already set, milady. How about we pair your evening tea with some sakura mochi I brought from the Teahouse?”

A pause. “You’re going to tell me what you were doing in Inazuma City, yes?”

“It would be a disservice not to.”

Knowing you’d already lingered for too long, you fled the scene—silently backing away until you heard a loud crunch echoing into the evening air. You jolted, cursing under your breath when you realized you’d stepped on a damn twig—!

“Thoma? What’s wrong?”

Then, footsteps—accompanied by the sound of the chief retainer’s accessories jingling on his person. You ducked behind an unsuspecting aralia tree, but right in front of you was a sheer drop into the ocean. Archons damn it. You hadn’t realized how close you were to the edge of the cliff.

Instinctively, you pressed your back further against the tree bark, wondering what the hell Thoma was even doing here when he supposedly had business to attend to in the city.

“It’s nothing, milady,” he sighed, and you felt your shoulders sag with relief as you heard his voice draw further away. “Just thought I’d heard something.”

“You must be tired if you’re starting to hear things.”

Not waiting for Thoma to come up with a response, you made your timely escape.

Somewhere down the deeper corners of Chinju Forest was an abandoned shrine. It was on the smaller side—the ornamental roof layered with thick moss, and the talismans having faded with age. You hadn’t the slightest clue which deity it was dedicated to, but it was for that reason that you declared it your designated territory of sorts.

There, you took out a shovel from your knapsack before digging a hole into the ground. It was safer to leave what little belongings you had where no people could even begin to look. And you’d rather not be carrying all your possessions when you’re about to infiltrate a mansion.

Once you’re satisfied with the depth, you began to rummage through the bag. You only took what was strictly needed—a pouch of powdered crystal marrow and a lone dark feather.

Mora and weapons wouldn’t be necessary if you did the job properly, which you will. But before you could turn around to shovel the unearthed soil back in place, you twisted the feather in your fingers.

This was the item that secured your agreement to the Tenryou Commission’s outlandish request. Kujou Sara was known to be a fierce warrior on the battlefield, so if Masahito managed to procure one of her feathers and give it to you, it was the real deal.

The shogunate really was out to tip the scales and launch the country into a civil war.

However, the feather was also a contingency plan of sorts.

“If you foresee yourself being unable to complete the mission, burn it and we’ll send someone to come to your aid,” Masahito informed, and while you were grateful for the possible fallback, you wondered if burning it rendered your reward money null and void. You didn’t ask, nor did he elaborate.

It was normal to have your reservations about this. After all, you could very much go down in the history books as the match that ignited the bloodiest war in Inazuma. But you never really cared much for appearances. Not now, not ever.

Once you accept a job, you’ll see it through until the end.

“H-Help, please… Help.”

The guards were quick to act once you emerged from the forest the following day—bloody and beaten and quivering in your boots. One of them managed to catch you before you could fully collapse to the ground, and he immediately barked orders to prepare a room and call a healer.

Faking your identity to mislead victims was a trick you picked up from an old acquaintance. The acting that went into the entire charade was as troublesome as it sounded, but you weren’t exactly given many cards to play here.

Hell, even the method you’d decided to assassinate Ayaka with was far from your usual. But you didn’t build a reputation for yourself by cutting corners and half-assing your jobs, that’s for sure.

Of all the members of the Tri-Commission, the Yashiro Commission was the most impartial. They had the hearts of the people of Inazuma, and the Kamisato clan collectively cared for them in return.

Whether you’re a rebel or a shogunate officer, if you turned up half-dead on their doorstep, it was ingrained in their principles to take you in. That kindness, however, was a double-edged sword.

They’d just invited a murderer into the heart of their stronghold.

However, their retainers weren’t complete idiots. Before rushing you into a room to get your injuries tended to, a due interrogation was conducted. (Who are you? Where did you come from? What happened?)

All their questions, you answered with a somewhat convincing act—you’re woozy from the “blood loss”, unable to respond coherently, drifting in and out of consciousness. But they could glean from your tattered maroon disguise uniform that you were part of the resistance.

“She probably tried to infiltrate the Kujou Encampment,” suggested one of the female attendants. “Both sides are growing more and more desperate each day… Should we inform Lady Ayaka and Lord Ayato?”

The proposal was met with a grunt from a man you recognized as Madarame Hyakubei. “Lord Ayato requested for us not to disturb him today, and Lady Ayaka is resting for the afternoon. Granted, Master Thoma didn’t say when he’ll return either so I suggest we keep this under wraps for now.”

Keep this under wraps. Yeah, that definitely worked in your favor.

With a silent, unanimous agreement, the rest of the guards left you in the hands of their resident healer—a meek woman who introduced herself as Hina.

You knew better than to respond to any of her inquiries, so you continued masquerading your own deliriousness as she patched up your self-inflicted wounds. Hina didn’t linger longer than she had to, and once you stopped fake-moaning in pain, she eventually got up and resumed whatever task your arrival had rudely interrupted.

There were still some curious attendants sneaking glances into the room they’d put you in, though—whispering amongst themselves in hushed tones. Thankfully, those gossiping girls went about their own business sometime later, and you’re left completely alone.

You couldn’t really do much in your current state. The people around the mansion were led to believe that you’ve been gravely injured. It would definitely raise suspicions if anyone saw you tiptoeing around the house, so you bide your time.

You’ve waited an entire week to put your plans into motion, what’s a few hours more?

When night fell, you expected one of the attendants to bring you dinner—if the Yashiro Commission’s extensive hospitality was anything to go by.

The anticipation might have also been fueled by the fact that it’s been days since you’ve eaten a proper meal. Whenever the guards outside ate altogether in the pavilion, the food prepared for them looked so appetizing. You couldn’t really blame yourself for pondering what they’ll serve you.

But the person who emerged into the room a few minutes later was the last one you’d expected to come.

“L-Lady Kamisato,” you stammered, sitting upright to bow your head. “It’s an honor. Please don’t trouble yourself with this…”

Ayaka flashed you a gentle smile, kneeling on the tatami to set the tray of food on your bedside. “It’s only proper that I see our guest with a warm welcome. You must be feeling better now that you can speak to me. My retainers said you were practically unintelligible earlier.”

Fuck. You broke character.

Swallowing thickly, you managed a dry laugh. “Your healer was amazing, miss. I didn’t think I would make it through the day, actually…”

She nodded in understanding, a grim look suddenly crossing her pristine features. “I see. You’re one of the Sangonomiya rebels, aren’t you? May I ask what you’re doing all the way here on Narukami Island?”

You purposely let your shoulders sag in a false show of emotion. “I…was sent for an espionage mission, but I got hunted down by the shogun’s lap dogs. Thanks to you, though, I’m still in one piece.”

“I had no part in your recovery. It’s all the work of my retainers,” Ayaka clarified with that same, unwavering smile. She gestured for you to take the food she’d brought. “Go on. I’m sure you’re hungry, so you better eat something.”

You were gladly about to indulge in her offer before—

“Milaaaady,” drawled an obnoxiously loud voice coming from the halls. And when a head of golden hair poked itself into the room, you felt your appetite vanishing in a puff of smoke. “Why’d you leave me in the kitchen? I can’t look after you if you’re going around without me, you know?”

There he was—the wild card that constantly threw your plans into disarray.

“Thoma, don’t be too loud. She’s still resting,” Ayaka chided as he knelt beside her on your bedside. “This is Thoma, the chief retainer of the Kamisato clan. He normally isn’t this noisy, so I hope you forgive him.”

No introduction needed, thank you very much, you wanted to say, but kept your mouth rightfully shut. Instead, you met Thoma’s green-eyed gaze as you tilted your head in a curt bow. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” he chuckled before folding his arms together. “I believe I haven’t caught your name yet…”

A name. Right. You had to give them a name—not your real name, of course. You weren’t that overconfident.

“Kira,” you spoke softly. “My name is Kira.”

“I see. So, Miss Kira…you’re from the resistance, huh? What’s the status over there in Watatsumi Island?”

Again, you assumed your role as a fugitive rebel with sigh. “Not too good. They’ve pushed us back so far that we had to resort to underhanded tactics.”

Thoma raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

Immediately remembering the suggestion of one of the attendants earlier, you decided to use that as a reference. “Infiltrating the Kujou Encampment to gain some intel. Though, I hardly got that done at all since…” Then, a wordless gesture towards the bandages wrapped around your body.

Ayaka flashed you a pitiful expression while Thoma hummed to himself. Did you really sound that convincing? Nonetheless, the chief retainer spoke again. “A wise man once told me that the best way out of a predicament is through. Why don’t you guys just march straight into Inazuma City and take it up to the Raiden Shogun herself?”

“Why don’t we step out and allow our guest to have some peace tonight?” Ayaka intervened, rising to her feet while tugging on Thoma’s sleeve in the process as she turned to you. “He asks too many questions sometimes. Again, please forgive him.”

You shook your head. “I’m already taking up much of your time as is. The one seeking penance should be me, milady.”

The princess shook her head once more as they made their way out of the room. “We hope for nothing but utmost health for you, Miss Kira. Please don’t hesitate to call for us if you need anything. We can discuss your situation further in the morning.”

When the door slid shut behind them, you could still vaguely make out some fragments of conversation. Ayaka was saying something along the lines of, “You should really be more polite to our guests,” and Thoma only responded with a peal of laughter.

Then, your eyes flickered towards your dinner—braised salted fish with pickled seaweed on the side.

“All these formalities for a complete stranger?” you muttered, pulling apart the chopsticks they’d provided as you shook your head. “Bunch of fools...”

Once you’ve had your fill, you tossed the blankets aside and stretched your limbs. Acting bedridden could easily make you feel the part, and you had to keep your blood pumping for what you were about to do.

For some reason, Hina and the guards didn’t bother inspecting you or your clothes, which proved to be quite the advantage.

Walking over to where they’d set down your boots, you turned the left boot upside down—shaking it rigidly until a satin pouch and a dark feather fell to the floor.

The pouch that contained the poison you were to use weighed almost nothing in your palm, and it was for that reason you chose it.

Powdered crystal marrow was so easy to conceal that slipping it into the princess’ evening tea was mere child’s play. You then shoved Kujou Sara’s feather in one of your pockets, praying you didn’t have to use it at all.

When the door to the room slid open again, you were completely prepared. This time, it wasn’t Kamisato Ayaka nor Thoma who went in to collect the tray.

It was one of the attendants that had been gossiping outside while the healer was tending to your injuries.

She paused by the entrance when she noticed you weren’t in your futon, and it was at that moment that you pounced—muffling her nose with a cloth laced with poison. Not enough to kill her, but certainly enough to knock her out.

Knowing that you’re quickly running out of time, you disrobed the attendant and replaced your disguise with her clothes swiftly.

The sleeves billowed just right around your arms, and the obi wasn’t too difficult to tie. And since you felt slightly bad for having to drag her into this, you covered the attendant’s bare body with the thin blanket of your futon.

With the tray that Ayaka had dropped off in hand, you closed the door to your room—eyes darting around for anyone who could have gotten wind of what just happened.

Fortunately, there weren’t many people milling inside the mansion. Just a couple of attendants dusting furniture and scrubbing the tatami.

None of them spared you so much as a backwards glance. But, knowing you couldn’t exactly disguise your face, you made yourself scarce—heading to a hall that you had a hunch led to the kitchen.

Based on the brief glimpses you’d seen prior to your relocation to the room, your guess should be right, and the attendant you’d just taken out was about to bring Ayaka her evening tea. You didn’t perform a weeklong stake-out for your calculations to be incorrect.

With each step you took across the hall, your heart pounded dreadfully. This was it. You were almost there. If you managed to pull this off, your mantle as Inazuma’s most cunning assassin would be set in stone. Your services would be sought after, and you’d be raking in millions from each job.

(And then Inazuma would be plunged into chaos. The fall of the Kamisato clan’s eldest daughter undoubtedly offsetting the peace that the people of Narukami tried so hard to maintain. The Electro Archon would no longer have any reason to hold back. But would the Raiden Shogun lash out on the very people whom she promised a never-ending eternity?

Would someone like you even be spared from her wrath?)

Your predictions have been correct. You were headed the right way. The kitchen was at the far end of this hall, and none of the other attendants were present.

Instead, the one that greeted you was the chief retainer in all his smug glory—instantly ripping you away from your musings of the future, and back to the dreadful present.

Thoma stood in front of the counter, a fresh tea set patterned with Ayaka’s favorite herons painted elegantly on each ceramic piece. Behind him, a kettle sat on top of the stove—the low flame illuminating the room just a tad brighter.

He didn’t seem surprised to see you, nor did he have any outward reaction to the fact that you’re wearing an attendant’s uniform. Instead, he leaned across the wooden surface, sighing.

“Well that’s just disappointing,” he lamented. “I really rooted for you, you know. Hope you’d give it up and leave once you’ve gotten a taste of milady’s kindness.”

You kept your lips sealed, straightening yourself as you sauntered over to the sink. Your movements were quiet as you set down the bowl and chopsticks they’d given, and Thoma watched your every move.

You had absolutely no clue how he’d managed to sniff you out as quickly as he did, but if he wasn’t pinning you to the floor and tying you up yet, then you still had some leeway for escape.

“I’ve already expected your arrival, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Thoma supplied. “You’re good at not leaving any tracks, but you aren’t exactly keen on concealing your presence. It’s almost like you wanted me to know what you were up to.”

Despite his friendly tone, you kept your silence—gaze roving around the kitchen for any clean-cut exits, only to realize there were none.

You half-contemplated using the rest of your powdered crystal marrow to incapacitate him and make your escape. Though you’re yet to witness it firsthand, Thoma would definitely be worth something in a fight if he was the Kamisatos’ chief retainer.

The injuries you’d sustained from throwing it down with a bunch of mitachurls to look convincingly mangled weren’t all fake. If you were backed into a corner now, you’ll definitely lose.

But you reminded yourself that every dose you got your hands on was few and far in between. You didn’t want to risk your future kills for a momentary lapse in judgement.

So, like any cornered animal, you did what was logical at that moment.

You ran for your life.

Or, at least tried to.

Before you could even step out of the kitchen, Thoma was already on you—seizing both of your wrists and twisting them behind your back. Your jaw throbbed as he slammed your face against the wall, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn’t break free from his grip.

“Get your hands off me, guard dog,” you hissed, desperately trying to kick him in the groin as a last resort.

Thoma let out another stupidly carefree laugh as he evaded your attempts at his family jewels. “Guard dog? That’s a new one. And you say it like it’s an insult.”

“Fuck you!”

“Now, now. That’s not a very kind thing to say.” He pouted. “And milady was so insistent for me to be polite. Not so deserving now, are you?”

Irritated, you considered spitting in his face, but remembered you had more tact than that. “So? Just kill me then. You already predicted I’d try to kill her, didn’t you?”

The moment you’d articulated the words, it struck you that Thoma was acting awfully calm about your blatant revelation. If it had been one of the other retainers, they’d probably be fuming at the knowledge.

Maybe they would’ve called the police by now. Worse, they’d have you executed on the spot.

But this man didn’t look like a fiercely loyal retainer who prioritized the well-being of his charge above all else. As you struggled to get a look at him from the impossible position he’d pinned you with, Thoma flashed you a conspiratorial grin that gave you the creeps.

“Killing you would be too easy, don’t you think?” the chief retainer sighed. “And besides, milady seems to have taken a liking to you. She’s never met a member of the resistance before. She even wondered over dinner if you two could be friends.”

You clicked your tongue. “I thought you already knew that I wasn’t—”

“Yes, yes. I knew you were a fraud the moment you answered my questions earlier,” Thoma interjected with a chuckle. “No bona fide member of the resistance would give away sensitive information like that so freely. They’d rather kill themselves first before revealing the strategies of Her Excellency, Sangonomiya.”

Oh. So that’s how he figured out.

“Okay, so my acting could be a bit better,” you began snarkily. “But what does it matter now? You caught me. The Almighty chief retainer of the Kamisato household has caught another mouse in the trap. Now could you please just get to the part where you lead me down to the gallows to commit seppuku?”

You were stalling. No one with a survival instinct as desperate as yours would easily resign themselves to a soundless execution.

In reality, you were wiggling an arm out of his grasp in an attempt to reach for the feather tucked in the folds of your stolen obi. Thoma held you conveniently close to the stove, and if you could just toss it into the low flame—

“Hm? But what if it isn’t my intention to have you killed at all?”

That made you pause.

As if to prove a point, Thoma unhanded you and put his palms up in faux-surrender. You scoffed as you rubbed your face.

“Look, I knew you’ve been scouting the area for days now, and you basically just admitted to your own intentions on milady’s life,” he elaborated. “I also knew that this place is too tightly guarded for you to execute your plans as smoothly as you liked. So you had to carry out your mission in the most roundabout way possible.”

“Yes, yes. Of course, of course,” you spat sarcastically. “If you’re so smart and all-knowing, just cut to the damn chase.”

Thoma let out another laugh, and you were so close to sacrificing your last stash of powdered crystal marrow just to see him drop dead.

“The point is, even if I know all these things…milady doesn’t.”

“...I don’t follow.”

Sighing, Thoma leaned against the counter with another disdainful sigh. “I’m offering you an alternative, Miss Kira. Heh. Even the name you picked was a dead giveaway. Seriously? A name that means kill?”

You clicked your tongue. “What alternative are we speaking of again?”

This time, the chief retainer flashed you a look that made you feel like he was mocking you.

“I’ll forget all the information you just revealed to me tonight. I’ll pretend as if our…altercation never happened.” He listed each condition on his fingers before pointing at your stolen garbs. “And I’ll even deal with the poor attendant whose clothes you nabbed. I’m sure I can bribe her into keeping her silence.”

Not liking how good the odds were for you if Thoma simply feigned ignorance like that, you asked, “What do you want in return?”

What came out of his mouth in the next moment, however, was probably the most ridiculous job you’d ever been saddled with in your life. It put Kujou Masanori’s orders to utter, absolute shame.

“Well, it’s very simple, actually.” Thoma grinned. “I want you to be…milady’s friend.”

next ->

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin fanfiction #thoma fanfic #thoma smut #genshin x reader #thoma x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin thoma #cryoculus #guard dog

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sugoi-and-spice · 3 months

Text

Ask of me debauchery....

...and you shall fucking receive.

Step by Step: A Gecko’s Guide to Becoming a Really Bad Person

Part One

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!!!

Summary: In which, Bully!Reader manipulates Step-Bro!Spinner sexually in increasingly demeaning ways. And eventually, he asks his good ol’ pal Tomura Shigaraki for help.

CW: Step-brother, Dub-Con, Blackmail, Bullying, Mean Reader, Male Masturbation, Oral Sex, Spinner has two dicks, Step-cest, Monster-fucking, AU - No League of Villains

A/N: I predict people are gonna be maaaaaad about this one and I'm all for it lol

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

Her step-brother, Shuichi Iguchi, was a fucking loser. She knew it from the moment she saw him. And not in a prejudiced way or anything, it wasn’t because he was a heteromorph. After all, she has plenty of heteromorph friends (none quite as extreme as him, but still!)

No, it was all the other things she noticed about him when he walked into the family restaurant with his Dad the first day they met. The way he carried himself, slouching and fidgeting endlessly, unable to decide if he should cross his arms, put them in his pockets, or keep them at his side. The way he dressed, a ridiculously faded crewneck, baggy cargo pants, and a freebie League of Legends snapback that only served to further curtain his greasy long hair in his face. When she actually managed to grab a glimpse of his eyes through the locks, it was only for a second, and they were constantly shifting, dropping, unspeakably nervous.

Even in a casual setting, he looked completely out of place. He practically jumped anytime anyone asked him the most basic of questions like “how’s school”, “what do you want to drink”, “can you pass the soy sauce”. It was like he’d just been dragged out of his bedroom for the first time in five years — and she wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case.

She also wouldn’t have been surprised if this was the first time he’d ever been this close to a girl before, as he always looked especially panicked anytime he realized she was glancing at him, so she didn’t even really bother trying to talk to him that night, focussing instead on getting to know he future step-father — who seemed like an overall decent guy.

At the very least, Iguchi seemed to understand his status well. When she entered high school — the same one as him — he didn’t try to walk with her to or from school, didn’t try and talk to her, basically pretended like they didn’t even know each other, which she appreciated. She would’ve hated to have to be a bitch and tell him to get lost in front of all her new high school friends and potentially be reprimanded by her Mom to prove a point (of course, she would’ve if she had to).

Yes, her new step-brother was a fucking loser, someone she wouldn’t be caught dead talking to, let alone spending any meaningful time with in public.

And yet somehow, she was completely infatuated with him.

She loved the way his skin looked, the different viridescent shades it took on depending on what angle or lighting she saw it in. She loved even more the way it felt, the times when his hands brushed against hers when he handed her a bowl or she bumped shoulders with him, cool and impossibly smooth with a texture so different from her own. She’d wanted to run her hand across every inch of it, to feel every difference. Just imagining it pressing and rubbing all across her own body had her gasping into her pillow for hours.

She didn’t know how the fuck it happened. It would’ve been great if she did, because maybe she could make it unhappen then. But nope, the harder she tried to understand it, the further away the answer seemed to get.

Maybe it was because he was so different from her or anyone else she would ever actually consider dating. Had their parents not gotten married, she never would’ve let herself give Iguchi the time of day. But within the walls of this family home, she was able to enjoy and explore him to her heart’s content. She was inquisitive by nature. Her friends called it sadistic, but she saw it as just wanting to see how far she could take things. And the desire to do so to Shuichi Iguchi was no different. He was so sweet and so shy, so eager to please or be invisible to everyone around him.

She wanted to see where that ended, what exact buttons she could press to get him to actually snap at her.

It started with little things at first, innocent things. Asking him to do her chores, her homework, even her shopping, yet he could never say no to her. Not even when she asked him to go buy her a set of lacy lingerie she was wanting. He actually fucking did it — handing the little pink boutique bag out to her without looking her in the eye, his skin flushed all the way down to his neck. Oh, she knew then that he was going to be fun .

That with him, she could really get… creative.

Flirting with him shamelessly, hanging out on his bed in nothing but a pair of panties and a tank top she’d stolen from him while he played video games, throwing her legs over his lap during family movie nights, pretending she didn’t notice how warm and fidgety it made him while she continued to move her calves back and forth across his crotch.

There came a point when she thought that maybe the guy was just unbreakable, that he really didn’t have a single impure thought about her in his head and that this wasn’t a game, but just an infuriating (not to mention insulting ) exercise in futility.

But then, late one night, through the thin wall they shared, she heard it. The sound of flesh against flesh, muffled grunts.

Her name, breathy but distinctive, on his tongue.

Shuichi Iguchi, her dear, perfectly behaved, and endlessly timid older step-brother, was in his bed, jacking off.

Imagining her .

And it wasn’t a one time incident either. She listened closely in the following days, and discovered that it was a nightly occurrence, that she was a nightly occurrence to him. And it wasn’t long before she joined him in his fantasizing, spending night after night pressed as close into the wall as she could get, imagining that that stupid piece of plaster dividing their beds was gone, as she fingered herself to sleep.

It should’ve gotten easier after that, she should’ve been able to extend her patience knowing that it was an actual possibility now. But if anything, it made the burn within her even worse, knowing that it was so close yet so far out of reach. She didn’t just want this, she fucking needed this. But it’s not like she could let him know that. She couldn’t let him think that she wanted it, that she wanted him . She needed it to seem like mercy.

She needed to have the upperhand.

So, she started setting traps. Things she could use against him, to get him into the palm of her hand, a place where he didn’t say no just because he didn’t want to say no, but so that he couldn’t say no. She asked him to get things from her room and left sex toys out, wore skimpier and skimpier outfits that she could catch him staring at her in, left her phone out so that he could read her lewd messages to other boys at school.

Yet still, nothing.

Iguchi didn’t step a single clawed toe out of line outside of the four walls of his bedroom. He was the perfectly polite older brother that she knew and hated to love.

It wasn’t until she wasn’t even trying to trap him that he finally took the bait.

Continue on AO3

#shuichi iguchi #shuichi iguchi x reader #iguchi shuichi x reader #iguchi shuichi #smut #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #cw dubcon #cw stepcest #cw bullying #darkfic #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #cw monsterfucking

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themuselesswriter · 2 months

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Alastor's College Girlfriend - Headcanons

Okay so hear me out, I started headcanoning Alastor in his previous life having a girlfriend whose completely opposite to him and she's a sweetheart and basically the indirect reason why he became a cold blooded killer, so yeah, so yeah, I'll leave you guys to it!

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Jenny and Alastor met at college, she was majoring in education and he was majoring in biology, it was the most cliche way to meet, she was carrying books and walking with her friends and he bumped into her and made her drop her books, he was an awkward kid at the time so instead of helping her out, he froze then ran away.

The second time they met was at the library, she was trying to reach for a book but she was too short, Alastor watched her struggle for good five minutes before he quietly helped her get the book then left without saying a word, she followed him and asked him for a cup of coffee.

Alastor was awkward, antisocial and lacked confident, he spent good twenty minutes outside the coffee shop pacing, trying to gather his courage to enter but he never could, he was about to leave when she saw him and basically dragged him inside, it was the best moment of his entire life.

After that cup of coffee, they kept hanging out more, Jenny's friends didn't like Alastor, because he was considered a weird kid who always dressed up as if he was going to a ball, meanwhile, she praised his style and found him very pleasant to be around so she ignored them.

It took Alastor five months to ask Jenny to be his girlfriend, he couldn't ask her face to face, so instead, he wrote her a letter and hid it in her book, later he felt stupid because how could someone so sweet and kind like Jenny be a girlfriend of an outcast like himself, he tried to retrieve the letter but it was too late as she read it in the middle of her lecture.

One time, Jenny was almost hit by a car because she was chasing a kitten, it was the single most horrifying moment in Alastor's life, he thought he lost her, it was also the first time he ever tells her that he loves her, they ended up adopting the kitten and calling him Husker.

They moved in together after a year and they were the happiest couple, everyone envied their relationship, her impact on him was great, he gained confidence, and he let his charming self show up and appear, she often praised his voice too.

For April's fools, she signed him up for a radio host interview, he ended up getting the job and it was the funniest thing, because who would've thought, shy, awkward Alastor would ever dare to become a radio host.

She is usually very calm and kind unless someone is picking on Alastor which happens a lot, his calm, shy state makes him an easy target, when that happens, she's a raging protective girlfriend.

Alastor was never interested in sexual intimacy, he liked cuddling, enjoyed the kissing, at first Jenny thought he was gay but then realized that he was merely asexual so she sat him down and told him about her discovery, she was supportive though.

After five years, he planned the perfect marriage proposal, he was going to take her to the same coffee shop where they had their first date, fill the place with her favorite flowers, get on one knee and give the speech of his life, he spent an entire month planning it and saving enough money for it through working odd jobs alongside his work as a radio host, he spent an entire day putting it in action.

When he returned home that day to take Jenny out on a date, he saw her laying motionless on the floor, stabbed 19 times, this broke Alastor completely and he vowed to avenge her death.

His mental state worsened as he spent two years tracking down her killer, and when he found him, he made sure that he knew exactly the pain he caused by killing everyone he loved before he finally killed him.

Once the killer was dead, Alastor moved out of the town, he gave Husker to Jenny's parents and left without ever returning there and found a new job at a different radio station.

He moved on with his life but there were things that made him think of her often, the color red, hot chocolate, kittens, his work at the radio station, his reflection in the mirror when he smiles as it was her favorite feature of him, sunsets and jazz music.

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Okay so two things, the art is made by me so don't freak out about the credits, lol, and the second is, would anyone who can actually draw be interested in creating Jenny x Alastor comics with me? if so, hmu!

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deebris · 1 year

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Melancholy II

Kakashi Hatake x wife reader

Synopsis: To learn to overcome the loss of your child, you and Kakashi went through challenges, and it certainly wasn't easy at all. The tragedy harbored bad feelings in your family, and you two tried not to let it affect your sons. But now, with the discovery of a fourth pregnancy, things can change again - for better or worse

Warnings: trauma, mention of misscariage, mention of depression, labor pain, argment, intimacy, kiss.

Words: 5.3k

Observation: Happy ending - part I here

The hot summer breeze made your hair sway along with the loose leaves of the trees, revealing your serene and concentrated face. Kakashi admired the beauty you exuded while he was looking from afar, not having the courage to go up to you, at least not where you were now. If you were in any other environment, he would definitely meet you and give you all the praise you deserve. But he preferred to walk away.

You were kneeling in front of your child's grave with your youngest son Kenji, both clasping your hands in prayer as you meditated. The boy always insisted on accompanying you during your monthly visits to the cemetery, helping you put new flowers and clean the place.

He always finished his meditation first, but he didn't dare get up until you finished too. Sitting still was difficult for a child, you know, and so his effort to remain patient was all the sweeter in your eyes.

After a brief five minutes, you had no more prayers to say and opened your eyes to see him transfixed on the name written on the tombstone: Satoru.

That same year you lost the baby, Kakashi advised you not to find out the sex of the child, but you were stubborn and asked Sakura anyway. You weren't even sure if it would be possible to find that out, as you didn't know if your pregnancy was advanced enough to reveal such a thing. But asking doesn't cost anything, does it? And then she told you it was going to be another boy. It was even a little comical, it seemed like you were destined to be the mother of boys, and after that you couldn't help but name him. You imagined what his little face would look like, you dreamed about him, wishing he was more than a fantasy.

What would his personality be like? How would his voice sound? Will you finally have a child that looks like you? Your husband was lucky, both of your children were perfect copies of him. What's the use of carrying a baby for 9 months and being betrayed like that by genetics? How unfair. Maybe that's why they say not to name dead babies, to go on in the void and forget, but you didn't like the feeling. Forgetting felt wrong.

Kakashi didn't want you to get attached to a child you've never even met, he said it would only make you suffer further. And for a while it felt like it was all about you, and only you. But you weren't silly, he was ashamed to admit that he was afraid of suffering from that too, of getting attached. Your husband was afraid that he wouldn't be able to move on, that it would haunt you both forever. Time heals all, isn't that what people say? Didn't he once tell you that you guys would get over it? So why weren't you getting over it?

Of course, after a while the pain got easier to deal with, but it was still there. And you constantly missed something, someone. Your family seemed incomplete.

He didn't get mad when you went after finding out the sex of the child, and he didn't fight when you gave him a name, but he was furious when you said you wanted to make a grave.

Spring - 1 year and 8 months ago:

You were cleaning the kitchen with Katsuo when the argument with your husband started. There was tension after the two of you exchanged some dangerous words, nothing had really gotten serious yet, but your eldest decided to immediately drop the uncompleted work and leave the room. He didn't even bother to excuse himself, just wanting to leave as soon as possible.

"That's enough for me!" He got up from the table abruptly "I tried, at all times, to understand you. I also suffered from this!" You remembered the conversation you had with him the day you cried together in the hallway, the way you found him, totally in pieces. Like you. "And all I wanted was for you to try to understand me too!" he spoke in a serious tone, but never shouting "But you just decide you want to make a grave, when I've told you countless times to keep it anonymous!"

Even when angry, your husband was calm. He was obviously exhausted, but there were no signs of violence there. You wondered how anyone could be so passive. If anyone else saw how Kakashi treated his family and friends, they would never believe that he really is the ninja of rumors. The man who defeated Zabuza Momochi, who fought Obito Uchiha - the fearsome Copy Ninja.

"Do you really want to immortalize this suffering by carving it into a stone?!" you listened silently for the moment, having already set the dishes aside in the sink and getting the reaction you feared he would have before telling him your pitiful wish "I already have too many people to visit the cemetery, Y/n..." His voice cracked for a moment making you shiver "Please, don't give me another one."

Your heart broke into little pieces. That was what you needed to realize how much distress you were causing him, that you were acting like a monster with the man who had never done anything but be good to you. Because that's what you were being, isn't it? A monstrous one. But not in a thousand years would Kakashi see you that way, he wasn't able to read your thoughts to tell that you weren't a bad person like you thought. He couldn't compare his pain to yours, having closely followed your suffering beyond emotional, physical. He just didn't know how to deal with what you were asking him to do.

"You don't need to visit…" you spoke softly hoping that the situation would work out for the two of you. The last few months were the worst of your life, you felt a need all the time, a need to fill a void. You feared that you were slipping into depression, but you tried not to let yourself get bogged down in those emotions.

"Stop being selfish!" Kakashi finally exploded, in a tone you've never heard him speak, abandoning his calm posture. He regretted it as soon as he said the cruel words. His wife wasn't a selfish person, far from it, you were the most selfless person he has met.

You felt your throat close, as if you were going to choke, and your eyes burning with an imminent urge to cry. But you can't cry, if you cry, Kakashi will be destroyed.

"I-" you were interrupted by a whimper in the distance, feeling stupid for having forgotten that Katsuo and Kenji were at home, clearly hearing the argument. If making you cry was bad, making your kids cry would affect him twice as hard.

A very heavy aura hung over the residence, what the hell was going on with you two? You and your husband weren't a bickering couple, in fact, you were the complete opposite of that. It happened at times that you blurted out hostility in the presence of the children, and on those few occasions you noticed that small things were enough to frighten the boys, used to the fact that their parents rarely fought.

Only this time it was serious, and to top it all off, the one screaming was their father. How could they not be scared? Kakashi never raised his voice even to correct them, and now he looked very angry. From you?

You abandoned your discussion and left him alone in the kitchen to check which of the boys was crying, and when you arrived in the living room you discovered that it was Kenji.

"Mommy..." The child sobbed your name when he saw you and you took him to comfort. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and gripped the fabric of your clothing tightly - shivering.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." you rubbed your hand on his back, sliding it up and down in an attempt to soothe him. "It's going to be okay. Shh..."

You shivered as you saw the guilty look on Kakashi's face as he froze in the middle of the room. He must have followed you, and you felt so ashamed of having caused all this that you couldn't stand to stay there any longer, going up the stairs with Kenji in your arms to escape from his eyes.

Katsuo was already a little older, he understood what was going on between his parents, both you and your husband knew about it. From your shared room, even with your son still crying, you could hear a door slamming loudly in the hallway and Katsuo yelling at Kakashi.

You hated to fight, Katsuo hated to see you fight. But for some reason it kept repeating itself.

Kakashi entered the room after a few minutes, skittish as a cat and hearing Kenji sniffle clinging to you.

"Shh" You kept whispering in his ear while singing a lullaby, rocking him, and the boy called to you softly repeatedly, pleading.

You were surprised to notice that Kakashi was already right next to you at the end of the bed, he put his hand on your son's back to get his attention, but that made him cringe and bury his face even more in you.

"Kenji." Kakashi called after him, surprised that his son was trying to avoid him.

"Honey, daddy is talking." you tried to intervene.

"I don't want you to fight..." he said, suddenly crying loudly when he remembered the two of you arguing a few minutes ago.

"Let's not fight anymore" your husband smoothed his hair as he still refused to show his face to his father "I promise." Kakashi looked at his wife in anticipation that you would help him convince the child.

"It's true, little angel."

And really, you never fought again. But instead, uncomfortable moments of silence began to plague you and him too often, preferring to remain silent when you realized that the situation could lead to a fight. And this has affected your communication with your husband, making the two of you more distant.

Now it's been two years. After that day Kakashi made your son's grave without you even knowing, maybe trying to redeem himself for something that wasn't his fault. You had completely dropped the idea and didn't expect you guys to talk about it again.

You didn't know if surprise was the exact word you were looking for to describe what you felt, but it probably came closest. Imagine your amazement: you were at the Memorial Stone, getting ready to leave after visiting all the deceased relatives and friends on a Sunday, when he told you there was still one person missing. He showed you the way and you were moved to see the name written on the tombstone. That was the last time he was there, after which you never saw him there again. But Kakashi made sure to memorize your reaction that day, you looked amazed.

Breaking out of your thoughts, you smiled at Kenji who was still focused on the carved letters and gave his chubby cheek a kiss to get the youngster's attention.

"Let's visit Grandpa Sakumo's sepulcher." you took his hand, which was much smaller than yours, going to your father-in-law's tomb.

You didn't know Kakashi's father, but from the stories you heard your husband tell the boys, he was an honorable man. He never avoided telling his children about the shinobi's tragic end, as he thought it was important that they have a reference of strong values when they become ninja too.

Your eldest son was not so childish anymore, although he was still a child. But with only 10 he had already developed an unshakable sense of justice, which perhaps neither you or Kakashi could mold so easily anymore. He would certainly be a man of good character, just as you would expect Kenji to be too.

"Katsuo is here, Mom! Look." Kenji shook your hands together excitedly when he found his brother already meditating at Sakumo's grave, he probably visited the Memorial Stone with his father first and then came here. Kakashi could spend hours in that part of the cemetery, sometimes coming in the middle of the week, just to stare at the names of his two former companions - Obito and Rin.

"Be silent so as not to interrupt him." You said gently, motioning with your fingers for him to keep quiet and the three of you ended up going home without Kakashi.

"Thanks for the food, Mom." Katsuo thanked you as he removed his nearly full plate from the table.

"You bad ate."

You decided to start dinner when the clock showed that your husband was already 1 hour late, which was unusual, at least not without letting you know. You thought that something unforeseen arose in the Hokage's office. Things have been crazy lately, everyone running out of time to prepare for Naruto's inauguration ceremony as Nanadaime. But the news was encouraging, for you mainly because it meant he would be spending more time at home.

"I'm not hungry." he said in a despondent tone, going upstairs and locking the bedroom door. He always acted like this after visits, and the reason was you. He didn't want you to visit Satoru, interpreting that he was the reason you've been so bad these last few years. And no matter how many times you told him that it wasn't anyone's fault and that visiting the place didn't hurt you, he was still young to understand.

"Can I have his dango?" Kenji asked making you sigh, everything was going so well for a peaceful day.

You suddenly felt like throwing up, bile rising in your throat catching you off guard. You immediately ran to the bathroom and emptied everything into the toilet, nearly spilling your guts out. You sat down on the floor and took a breath, feeling more dizzy for having bent down so quickly, making you break out in a cold sweat.

"Mom, are you ok?" Kenji stopped at the entrance to the room.

"I just got sick all of a sudden, it'll pass." you both heard the front door open.

"Kakashi?" you shouted his name from the bathroom, finding it irregular that he didn't announce his arrival.

"It's me, I'm home." Kenji dashed off to meet him, completely forgetting about you. Daddy's boy, you thought jealously of his preference for the father.

"Daddy, you missed dinner." your child said as you brushed your teeth to get the bitter taste off tongue.

"Oh yeah? You didn't eat mine, you sweet tooth?" you heard your husband's muffled voice in the bathroom playing with him. If you hadn't experienced it three times before, you'd try to convince yourself that it was a bad thing caused by spoiled food, but there's no use denying it, you know the symptoms all too well.

When you felt that you were discouraged, you sought out Sakura as quickly as possible, trying to be more thorough. You only trusted her, knowing well how skilled the kunoichi was. Well, you wasn't sure how far along you were, although Sakura had tried to give you a more accurate diagnosis, even that you weren't tracking your cycles accurately either. But you'd venture to say it was the start of the second trimester.

You haven't imagined yourself pregnant again, in fact you haven't imagined yourself like this since you gave birth for the second time. You feared losing that child too, a fear you didn't feel with Katsuo and Kenji. You sure turned into a chicken.

You didn't even want to think about the impact this baby would have on you before and after birth, it could be negative or positive. Would this child fill your void? Would you be substituting one child for another? Would that be cruelty? You asked yourself so many questions, but you forced your brain to relax, reminding yourself to remain calm for the sake of the baby in your belly.

In your first two pregnancies, you only had positive thoughts. You weren't nervous about the birth, although some women in the village tried to scare you, and you were fascinated by the idea of becoming a mother. You and Kakashi were so happy, and now you would too. No matter the future, no matter the others, you would only have good thoughts and that new child would be born strong and healthy. This baby would be wanted, if only by you.

You've settled Kenji into his bed, adjusting the blankets so he doesn't feel hot at night. You said goodnight and closed the door to his room, leaving a gap for light from the hallway to enter the room. You knocked on Katsuo's door and tried to talk to him, but the boy just shouted good night to you, not bothering to come and open the door. Kakashi was still downstairs and it was late, so you took the opportunity to go talk to him. Night shifts were one of the only times you and your husband could talk alone.

"Everything is good?" you asked when you saw him sprawled on the couch. Most of the lights were already off, except for the hallway light and a few lightbulbs around the house.

"I thought you were already asleep." He said surprised to see you still walking around the house.

You walked further into the room and made a sign that you were going to join him on the couch, so Kakashi raised an arm to welcome you beside him. You laid back and rested your head on the ninja's chest, hugging his torso as he lowered his arm to rest on your waist.

After a while just smelling the fabric softener of his shirt that you washed, you moved and placed a kiss on his exposed neck, climbing into his lap to kiss his lips next.

Kakashi loved those moments with you, because they were rare, the main culprit being his work. So when it happened he felt like he was in heaven. Your mouth was soft, sweet and the man's lips fit yours like a glove, but he gently pulled you away before the kiss got deeper.

"Not here." Kakashi didn't like being so intimate with you outside the bedroom, embarrassed that the boys would catch you. Even an innocent kiss made him uncomfortable, and you respected his space even though you had no intention of taking things to another level right now.

And it was funny to see him feel uncomfortable with things like that, considering he's the biggest fan of an erotic book series. Once Katsuo almost got you in the bathroom and Kakashi spent the whole week avoiding touching you, even when you were alone, like it was some kind of crime.

"I need to talk to you." you said getting off him.

"About...?"

"I'm Pregnant." you said bluntly, feeling him tense up. His heartbeat skipped a beat, coming back slow and then speeding up a little.

"Do you think or-"

"I'm sure." you lifted your head to look into his eyes and realized he was staring at the floor in confusion. You placed a hand on his cheek, drawing your husband's attention to you.

"I don't know how long, but I think it's well underway." you two were silent for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity "Kakashi, I think I'm past the third month."

He felt more hopeful, knowing full well the importance of yout last sentence.

"Darling..." you were going to continue talking when you saw him gulping, but he grabbed you by wrapping both arms around his wife.

"I understood." he rested his lips in her hair, enjoying the comfort of the hug "When did you find out?"

"Last week." He immediately broke the hug.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"I was trying to work up the courage..." you were sincere "you want this child, don't you?"

"You shouldn't even consider thinking such a thing. Of course I want to." he said kind of scolding you "Why would you think I don't?"

That would be the conversation you probably would have had with him years ago, if you had the chance to sit down with him and tell about the pregnancy in those days.

"I don't know. I think it's because we never planned a third child." you moved from him to the other side of the couch to talk more seriously "With Kenji and Katsuo it was different."

"You shouldn't worry about me, you know I would never reject our child." he straightened up, coming out of the relaxed position he'd been in before, feeling a flicker of doubt about your trust in him "You know that, don't you?"

"I know you, I know the type of man you are..." you played with your hands trying to relax "But I can't help but get nervous, everything seems to scare me lately." He noticed your hands moving frantically and wrapped his in hers.

"You are my wife; you are the mother of my two children. We have been married for 11 years, I would never abandon you, or abandon a child just because it was not planned." he stopped talking, wondering if he should tell you the next part "Sometimes I think about Satoru, and I wish he were with us." He added and you widened your eyes, Kakashi had never called the baby by name. In fact, he never spoke to you about him unless necessary or in discussions. "Do you think I wished him dead?" Kakashi asked afraid of her answer.

But what? Kakashi thought so? You would never connect his desire to leave the baby incognito with something so cruel and obscure, you understood perfectly well why he didn't want to name him. You always understood.

"Never." you turned desperately to your husband stroking his hands. "I never thought that of you, Kakashi." You shed thick tears and sank your body into his, wanting to stay there forever. Safe and comfortable in his arms.

"Please, do not cry." he asked you "I'm going to take care of you; I'm going to take care of this baby. It's going to be okay."

You would venture to say that this was your smoothest pregnancy. You didn't have to deal with jealous of any of the boys, and Kakashi was more present, not being Hokage anymore. It was just wonderful, like a dream. You sometimes feared that everything would start to fall apart, because it was too good to be true. It was strange that after so long drowning in grief, things could be starting to turn around again. Your family was getting back to normal.

In the 8th month, your water broke. It was early for delivery and you just freaked out. What if something is wrong? Kakashi was calm, knowing that a baby being born at the 8th wasn't that dangerous, but you couldn't stay calm at all. When Sakura finally came to your rescue, you felt more relieved after she confirmed what Kakashi told you about you being on time, trusting her while you screamed in pain from the contractions.

"The boys were born a week late, remember?" your husband tried to strike up a conversation with you to distract you

If you said you remembered, it would be a lie. Kakashi kept that information for that long? How was it possible that he remembered and you didn't? But soon his thoughts were interrupted by another wave of pain, which made him feel sorry for you for having to go through this.

"Soon our baby will be here with us." He said wiping the sweat off your forehead "It'll pass soon"

No, I won't go soon. And you both knew it, but you let yourself be trusted by him.After an 11-hour delivery you heard a baby crying loudly. The burning sensation occurred in the child's body because pulling air into lungs for the first time made the kid scream, just like every baby when it is born. Those outside the hospital room heard it too, announcing that you had managed to bring your child into the world. You can finally rest, sweaty from the effort it took to push. Your body was all asleep, but you just wanted to hold your newborn right now.

Sakura handed the baby into Kakashi's arms after he cut the umbilical cord, and then brought him close to you.

"It's a girl, Kakashi-sama." you cried with happiness when you heard that. You were the mother of a little girl.

Kakashi carefully placed her in your arms, seeing that you were still weak and might not be able to support your weight. But he noticed that his daughter was so small and so light that even the wind could carry her.

"She is a very strong and healthy girl. Congratulations to you both!" Sakura said happy for you, finding the sight of you holding a baby comforting, reminding her of holding Sarada for the first time.

"Why is she so small?" Kakashi asked her as you admired the blurry features of the child in your arms.

"Oh, she just is." Sakura replied nonchalantly, making Kakashi relax "I'm sure she'll grow up as strong as her brothers. But I'll leave you alone now." The woman left the room after collecting some objects and finishing filling out a hospital form.

You had finally realized that she was very close with her father, yet another clone of Kakashi for your misfortune. But you couldn't wait for her hair to stay long, just to spend hours combing it. You wanted her to stay that way, a little baby forever, but at the same time you yearned for her to grow up. You would wait for the day when you could finally share secrets with her, gossip and try on clothes until you drop. You loved your two boys with all of your being, you'd die for either of them, but having a girl felt different. Maybe it was because you dreamed about it for a long time, you didn't know how to explain it, but you already felt the need to develop her from everything and everyone. She was so delicate and cute, you were afraid she would break like porcelain.

Kakashi noticed the expressions you made while admiring your daughter, you practically beamed with how happy you were, and he hasn't seen you like this in a long time.

"You want to meet your little brothers, hmm?" You asked your daughter who made typical baby noises, knowing she wasn't going to answer. Your husband took this as a cue to go get the boys who were under Hinata's watch in the hospital waiting room. She really helped you a lot, both in the past and now. You would make sure that you thank her properly and that you can repay all of her help one day.

"It's a girl." Kakashi told his friends who were in the waiting room a few minutes ago and everyone started to congratulate him. "Thanks for coming over here."

"When can we see her, Kakashi?" Guy asked his friend.

"Yes! Kakashi-sama, I want to see her too!" Ino begged excitedly to see the baby. She was passing by to see Sakura at the hospital when she heard you were here and couldn't resist waiting to see the baby when was born.

"I'll take the boys now, but soon you'll be able to see them, I promise."Kakashi told Ino and everyone else who was present. He put his hand behind his neck to ease the tension and tiredness and then he picked up the children who were half asleep from waiting so long. He thanked Hinata briefly, who told him that soon Naruto would come too, and headed to the bedroom with his sons. "When you enter, be quiet" he told both of them when they arrived at the door.

"Yes Daddy!" Kenji responded by rubbing his hand over his mouth as if he were zipping up.

"Let's go!" Katsuo pulled his father anxious to see his sister.

"Hey, calm down."

Upon opening the bedroom door, Kenji completely forgot to be silent and made a fuss, shouting excitedly to see you after so many hours. The baby started crying over the noise, and Kakashi scolded himself for being so sloppy with the youngest. But you didn't seem to care about the situation, in fact, the boy's enthusiasm rubbed off on you as you tried to get the baby calm again.

Kakashi took Kenji on his arms and carefully approached him by your side on the bed when he saw that he was trying to climb up, but he couldn't win due to his low height. Katsuo ran to stay on the other side and they both knew to admire their little sister.

"Why is her face so weird?" Kenji as usual had no filter.

"She was just born." you told him sympathetically and they expected to pepper you with questions about her, coming one after another like a train.

"Boys, slow down." he warned the boys "your mother is tired."

"Sorry, Mommy."

"All good." you looked at Katsuo who was sitting on the bed with you "Want to hold her?"Even though he was big, Kakashi didn't feel confident letting his son hold the baby.

"Y/n..." he was going to try to tell you that Katsuo was still too young to hold his sister.

"It's okay, Kakashi." you tried to reassure him "He won't put her down, kids younger than he babysit."

You pulled Katsuo closer to you, instructing him on what to do to hold the girl. You stayed alert and put an arm around the boy to prevent him from ending up knocking her over.

"I want to hold too."

"Not you, you little dwarf." Kakashi immediately intervened, leaving no chance for the 6 year old to consider holding the baby. You sighed at his attitude of not trusting boys.

"What is her name?" Katsuo asked you as soon as he held his sister.

"Do you want to name her?" you made an offer.

"Sayuri!" Kenji shouted, excited to be able to choose the baby's name

"What?! Where did you get that horrible name?" You see they were going to start arguing about which name to choose and immediately regretted it "It's going to be Misaki.

"You're just saying that because it's the name of the girl you like!" In fact, Kenji was quite the gossip. You didn't even know about this girl.

"The girl you like, is it?" Kakashi teased his son by ruffling his hair and making the boy blush.

"Kakashi!" You warned him to stop teasing a child. "How do you end up knowing so much stuff, you little brat?" You asked Kenji pulling his nose playfully, which made him laugh.

"What do you think of the name Rin?" Kakashi asked you suddenly, worried about your reaction.

"Rin? Like Daddy's friend?" Katsuo asked confused.

"If you don't mind, of course." He added to you expectantly

"Rin..." You repeated the name, testing how it sounded "Sounds good." you said smiling, knowing how much that meant to him. You know how much Kakashi feels guilty for her death, they were just kids at the time and they had to go through so much.

"I liked too." Kenji said taking you by surprise.

"Snow!" Katsuo said excitedly as he looked at the window behind

It messed you up, you lost your last baby on a winter night. And the season that already showed sadness, despite its built-in beauty, had become even sadder with the memory of your son. But now your little girl has come to give the season a new meaning, a good one.

You looked at the little girl again, taking her out of Katsuo's arms to let him run to the window with his brother to watch the first snowflakes fall. You let the baby girl play with your index finger, grabbing it with her chubby little hands.

Kakashi who came down beside you kissed his daughter's forehead and then your temple.

"I love you."

That was the first time in years he said he loved you verbally.

"You and they are the light of my life." He brushed a few strands of hair off your face, "I couldn't have asked for anything better."

"Thanks, Kakashi." If you were already crying rivers of joy at the birth of your daughter, he just made you cry an ocean. He didn't need you to say you loved him back, having heard you say it many times already.

Etiquetas: @ghostsfavhoe @bbkissme99

#kakashi x y/n #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x reader #hatake kakashi #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto shippuden #anime imagines #anime #imagine #oneshot #x reader #wife reader #one shot #kakashi x you #naruto uzumaki

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painsandconfusion · 3 months

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Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, But…

Whumping the Whumpers - Part One

This series (this scene specifically) started as a @whumptober prompt, so thank you to them for making this possible!

(tw: stabbing, cutting, kidnapping, restrained, stress position, implied past self-harm)

[Masterpost | Next]

Nate pulled the chain tight and watched Ethan’s hands stretch toward the ceiling. They kept pulling until Ethan was balancing on their tiptoes.

Very nice. Visually dynamic.

Ethan was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, but they’d fix that soon. Nate always loved how much skin was exposed when the arms were brought up like this.

Nate stepped up to Ethan, sliding off their blindfold.

Ethan’s eyes burned back at them. That was…surprising. "Happy to see me, darling?”

Ethan didn’t break eye-contact like they used to. “Sure. Psyched.”

Nate tucked away a stray lock of hair that fell in Ethan’s eyes. “So angry. You’ve only been away from me…what? Five years now? Not much time to grow a backbone.”

“Long enough, apparently.”

“Yes, apparently,” Nate chucked. “I’ll have a fun time ripping it back out of you.” They trailed their fingers down Ethan’s sternum for added effect.

Their eyes were flat. Void of amusement or fear. “Go for it.”

Nate stepped back, looking them over. They had gained back the weight they’d lost and then some. They looked stronger - much stronger, actually - than before. Nate reached out, pressing a hand to their stomach, then running it up along their arms. They had definitely gained some muscle, too. Ethan didn’t flinch at the touch. Nate didn’t know why that was annoying to them.

They smiled, covering up the emotion. “It’s really so good to have you back. I never stopped looking for you after you escaped. Did you know that?”

Ethan sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I never assumed you would.”

“And yet…you don’t seem afraid. I’m not going to lie, I miss that a little. You made the cutest sounds.”

“I really don’t have any more fucks to give at this point.” Their eyes did seem particularly…well…dead.

“Hmm. Well, maybe you’ll find some again.” They grinned, slipping a small knife from their pocket. “You just need a little persuasion.”

Ethan’s eyes dropped to the knife. “By all means, go ahead. Pain and I are good friends.”

Nate smirked. They were acting so tough. We will see how long that lasts. They brought the knife up, letting the tip rest and push gently up under Ethan’s chin.

They waited for the flinch. For Ethan’s breath to hitch. For them to tip their head up, exposing their neck.

But….nothing.

Nate quirked an eyebrow and tipped the knife further up. Ethan didn’t flinch as the skin split, bead of blood running down the blade.

For a moment, Nate had to beat down the sudden urge to push it further. To make them gasp and flinch even if they had to ram the knife up through the roof of their mouth.

No no, not today. Start slow. Relish this.

They watched the bead of blood roll. And…noticed something behind it.

Something out of place on Ethan’s neck.

Nate blinked. Was that…a scar? They’d never given Ethan a scar there. Had they? No. Definitely not.

Nate snaked a hand around and gripped Ethan by the back of the hair, pulling down to expose the throat. Ethan offered no resistance as Nate examined the faded white line. They traced it lightly with the tip of the knife.

“Who did this to you?” Their voice was a whisper. A flavor of rage they didn’t recognize bubbled in their chest.

Ethan’s voice hummed against the blade. “Some guy named Redd? Ran into him after I left you.”

Nate pulled back, dropping Ethan’s head. They gripped the knife tighter. Redd.

They stared at the ceiling, trying to keep their breaths steady. “And this Redd…did he hurt you besides that once?”

Ethan smirked, “Oh plenty. Much worse than you did.”

Nate gripped the knife tighter as their hands started to shake. Darkness creeped into the edges of their vision. “What’s his full name?”

“Oh my god, are you jealous?” Ethan laughed at that. “Wow, you really are. Feeling a little protective now, are we?”

Nate spun back to them. “What the fuck did he do to you?!”

Ethan offered no response but a smile.

Whatever. They’d find out themselves.

Nate slipped the knife under the hem of Ethan’s shirt, splitting it cleanly down the middle. They did the same to the sleeves, ripping them away and tossing the tattered fabric on the ground.

They…stared.

And stared.

And stared some more.

Gashes and scars littered their flesh. They were in every shape. Every color a scar can be. Nate walked around them, forcing themselves to look, even if seeing the marred flesh - their flesh - made Nate’s skin craw. Normally they would appreciate the sight, but not when other hands had made those scars. They wanted to strip all the ruined skin back, peeling it off and starting fresh.

Nate took a deep breath. “What. The. Fuck. Happened to you.”

Ethan shrugged - at least Nate assumed it was a shrug - it was hard to tell in that position. “Met a few more. Finally got out. Got into juice cleanses and kale-”

“More? I’m sorry, did you just say more?”

“More sick freaks like you? Yeah. Quite a few, actually.”

Nate could practically feel the air vibrating in their lungs.

“You’re MINE.”

Ethan smiled at that. It seemed genuine. “Evidently not, sorry.”

Nate lashed out, punching Ethan as hard as they could in the gut. Ethan coughed and swayed back against the chain.

Why. The. FUCK weren’t they flinching??

“I don’t know what to tell you. Sorry for your loss? Apparently you never learned to share your toys as a kid.”

Nate tossed the knife to the side of the room before they lost control and stabbed them or something. It clattered to a stop against the wall. Nate turned away, running their fingers through their hair. They needed to calm down. They had Ethan now. They were theirs now.

And this time, they weren’t ever getting away.

“You doing okay, there?”

Nate spun back around to face them, eyes burning. “Peachy,” they spat.

Ethan chuckled. “Doesn’t look like it to me.” They looked Nate up and down, amusement radiating. “What can I do to make you feel better?” They cooed, mocking. “Should I scream? Beg? Pull away and cry? Make you feel like you’re somehow scarier than they were?”

Nate’s fist cracked against Ethan’s nose before they even realized they were moving.

Blood started to dribble after a few moments. Ethan laughed loudly as the chain keeping them up spun them back forward. “Wow, touched a nerve there, did I?”

Nate’s eyes locked on the fallen knife. Fuck it. They were going to stab them after all.

Nate retrieved it and strode back up to Ethan, pointing the knife at them while every inch of their body trembled with fury. “You’re MINE. Do you understand that?” They pressed the knife tip hard against Ethan’s stomach.

“Sure. Whatever makes you feel better.”

The little shit. Nate pulled back the knife, ready to thrust it into their diaphragm. They froze, looking at the skin on their ribs, just to the left of their target.

It was their brand. Their beautiful brand they placed on Ethan. The good one with their initials and emblem. It was massacred.

Gashes and lines criss-crossed over the lettering until it was hardly recognizable. Scarred over. Destroyed. Forgotten.

Nate’s breath stopped. Their vision nearly blurring.

They struggled to keep their voice down. They pressed their shaking fingers hard against it. “Who did that.”

Ethan only smirked at them.

Nate gritted their teeth and drove the knife deep into Ethan’s abdomen, in a safe(er) place below the appendix.

Ethan grunted, but laughed freely as they gasped for air. “Wow, that one really has you railed up.”

Nate grabbed Ethan’s jaw with their free hand, forcing Ethan to look at them. “I said,” They twisted the knife, “WHO did that?”

Ethan didn’t even respond to the knife when Nate twisted it a second time. “I need names.”

Ethan just chucked. “That one was all me.”

[Masterpost | Next] [Original Post]

#stabbing #cutting #kidnapping #restrained #stress position #implied past self-harm #whumping the whumpers #nate and ethan #reposting #repost #self repost

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captainsophiestark · 11 months

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Destroy All Comers

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom: DC

Prompt: Athena; Wisdom and Warfare

Summary: When Y/N's regular co-coach, Dick Grayson, is called away during an important period in the 8th grade girls' basketball season, Jason Todd has to step in and take his place.

Word Count: 3,124

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Jason's POV

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because you're the only one available to take my place! Besides, you might actually have fun doing it once you give it a try."

I huffed and crossed my arms. Grayson had a mission overseas coming up, and he'd asked me to take his place. Not as Blüdhaven's vigilante, oh no. As the co-coach for a kid's basketball league.

It was dead last on the list of things I cared about or wanted to do. But Grayson had recently helped me out with a problem of my own, and he'd made it very clear he wasn't above calling in that favor.

"C'mon, Jay. It's only two weeks. Ten practices and one tournament, that's all you have to get through."

I sighed heavily through my nose and stared at the ceiling for a few long beats. Then, I dropped my eyes back to Dick, keeping my expression completely unimpressed.

"Fine. But you better not get hurt on this stupid mission, because I'm not covering for you a single second past that tournament."

****************

Y/N's POV

"Alright, great work! Let's take five for water and then get into our layup drills!"

I smiled and clapped a few of the girls on the back as they headed off the court to their bags on the sidelines. Coaching my little niece's basketball team was one of my absolute favorite activities, and I'd been doing it since they were first graders. Now, this was their last year before high school, and we all wanted to go out on a high note. We had a tournament in two weeks that would help set us up nicely for the end of the season if it went well for us.

Every single one of us was absolutely locked in.

Every one of us, of course, except my co-coach.

Dick Grayson, my new best friend since we'd started volunteering together at our family members' school (my niece and his little brother) and I'd managed to rope him into helping me with my niece's basketball team, was my usual co-coach. Unfortunately, he apparently had a big commitment out of town that he couldn't get out of, so he'd be missing the tournament and two weeks leading up to it. I'd been a little upset, and then mostly just teased him for a 'lack of commitment' I knew he didn't actually have before promising to keep him updated on everything. His replacement, however, I was starting to have a real problem with.

Dick told me he'd convinced one of his brothers to fill in for him this week, just so I wouldn't be left wrangling a bunch of thirteen and fourteen year-olds alone. Dick had spoken very highly of him, but he was currently half an hour late to his first practice, and I was starting to get a bad feeling that he'd be more of a hindrance than a help.

Just as the thought floated through my mind, I heard the doors to the gym swing open. I looked up to see a tall, muscle-y guy with a leather jacket stride through the door. Dick had told me they weren't biological brothers, but even with the white streak in this guy's otherwise jet black hair, I knew he was Dick's brother. He came to a stop in front of me, and I might've been a little thrown off by his good looks if I wasn't also so pissed.

"Coach Y/N, I take it?" he asked, holding out a hand for me to shake. I just scowled back at him.

"Yeah. And you're Mr. Thirty Minutes Late To Practice."

The guy–definitely Jason Todd, since he didn't correct me–narrowed his eyes slightly as he dropped his hand back to his side.

"Yeah, sorry. It was kind of a rough night."

I took a second to breathe in deeply, then let the breath out through my nose. This guy was Dick's brother, after all, and for all I knew he might've had a perfectly good reason for being late. I made myself meet his eyes and forced down some of the impatience I'd been feeling.

"Jason. It's good to meet you. Thank you for volunteering while Dick's gone." He nodded and shifted on his feet, looking a little uncomfortable. I sighed. "How much do you know about basketball?"

"Some," he said with a shrug. "I played for a little while when I was really young, and I watch it sometimes now, but that's it."

"Alright. Well, for today, I'm just going to have you run the girls through some simple drills like defensive slides and foot fires while I work on plays and some specific moves with the other half. Deal?"

"Sure."

I turned to share the new plan with the girls, but stopped and turned back again after a few steps. Jason still slouched a few feet away from me looking disgruntled.

"Listen, Jason? I really do appreciate the help, but... the girls and I take this very seriously. If you can't do that for the next two weeks... I think we might be better off without you."

I turned before Jason could really even react, not particularly interested in a comeback. The girls were waiting for me, after all, done with their water break and ready to get back into the action.

We split off into separate groups for the next hour, Jason running drills the girls probably could've done on their own while I worked with a few at a time on more position-specific drills. Finally, with half an hour left, we took one more break before it would be time to spend the last half hour scrimaging. I stood off to one side mentally making the first two groups of five, but stopped my mental planning when Jason wandered over to me, looking more than a little tired.

"How you holding up?" I asked, only half trying to conceal a smile and laugh. Jason huffed.

"They're insane," he said, slumping against the wall next to me and crossing his arms. "They interrupted me five times in the first drill to tell me I was explaining it wrong. And they were mean about it, too!"

I didn't even bother trying to hide my smile this time. "Yeah, I wasn't kidding when I said they took this seriously. It helps to have another adult in their area when I'm doing other stuff, but... they could probably run those drills themselves."

Jason gave a thoughtful hum, but didn't say anything else. I gave him a second and finished making the first set of teams in my head, then stepped to the middle of the court and clapped my hands.

"Alright girls! Let's get this scrimmage going!"

We flew through the last half hour of practice, all of the girls in excellent form. Jason kept watching, seeming much more interested and engaged than before, but he didn't chime in with anything. For the last two minutes, we practiced wild half-court shots "just in case" (and mostly for fun), then huddled up at center court as the parents started to arrive.

"Alright, great practice today everybody, as usual," I said. Even though it was the end of practice, no one looked like they were itching to go; everyone stayed laser-focus locked on me. "Now that today is over, we officially have nine practices left before our tournament next weekend. That means nine practices to get as good as we can possibly get."

The girls hooted and hollered, and our captain, Angie, chimed in.

"And to get ready to destroy all comers!"

The other girls cheered for her statement, and I grinned.

"Damned right. You girls are incredible, and should already be so proud of how far we've come. The other teams aren't gonna know what hit 'em next weekend!"

A chorus of "yeah!"s.

"Good! Now, what team?"

"Wildcats!"

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"Destroy all comers!"

"Alright! We'll see you girls tomorrow!"

They all cheered, wished me a good night, and wandered off to find their parents. I watched them go with a smile as Jason wandered up to my side.

"That's not how I remember the High School Musical cheer going."

I shrugged. "Our mascot's the wildcats, but we're our own entity. Our own, slightly more cutthroat entity."

"I like it."

I finally turned to look at Jason and found him already staring at me with a mischievous smile.

"Listen, I know I wasn't very helpful today," he started. I snorted, but gave him a small smile so he knew I was mostly teasing. "But, if you'll let me... I have a couple ideas that might help over the next few weeks."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?"

****************

"Okay girls, lean into the contact! Stand your ground, really let your opponent push into you and push right back!"

I smiled as I watched Jason work with the girls. For our second practice together, he'd come early to walk me through a more detailed plan of some ideas he'd had. Like Dick, he had better experience than me with physical training and the best way to help other people strengthen themselves and specific areas. Unlike Dick, he'd immediately leaned into my more ruthless energy, and had come up with a new strategy we were in the middle of implementing.

Within a few seconds, Group A–the offensive group–stepped away from their partners. Group B, the defenders, stumbled and, in some cases, even fell. Jason beamed around at all of them.

"Great work, that's exactly what we want. Ref can't call you for anything, and the other team'll think a little harder before laying all over you in the paint again."

The girls' feral grins were response enough to tell me how they felt about that new strategy. I couldn't help mirroring their expressions as they went to get water and I went to stand by Jason.

"Nice work," I said. Jason turned to grin at me, and my heart skipped a beat in a way it never did when I coached with Dick. "I've gotta say, day one was rough, but I love the energy you've been bringing since."

"What, you're telling me Dick didn't bring the scorched-Earth energy?" he joked. I chuckled, shrugging at the thought of my usual partner being paired with the phrase "scorched-Earth".

"Dick came up with some absolutely insane yet somehow effective strategic trick plays," I said. "He's always a positive, encouraging energy, especially when the rest of us get a little too intense. But yeah, his usual role is the balance to our bloodthirstiness."

Jason nodded. "Sounds like him. Usually, at least."

I squinted a little at that as Jason stared off at the far wall, but then he shook his head and turned back to me. Slowly, a grin spread across his face, and I swear it was contagious as I mirrored him. Then, he spoke.

"I'm planning on bringing a slightly different energy to the team."

****************

"Alright girls, this is it!" I cried, staring around at the huddle of intense, focused faces around me. "We win this, and we not only win the tournament, but we're set up with the number one seed for the postseason. You've played amazing so far, and nobody can take that away from you. Keep it up for the rest of this game, and let's finish this thing!"

Everyone nodded as I spoke, an excited fire flickering in every person's eyes. After two weeks of practice and some new strategies from Jason, we'd spent Saturday carving through our early opponents like they were nothing. Now, after a long Sunday, we'd battled our way to the championship game. We'd gone into halftime tied, and the next two quarters would be everything for us.

If Dick were here, he would've referenced the "Sixteen Minutes" song from High School Musical, since that's how much game time we had left. But he wasn't here, and Jason and I both had different things on our minds.

"We're tied, which means we can take this as a fresh start," I continued. "Go out there and outplay them for the next two quarters, and it's ours. Leave it all on the floor and show them just who they're messing with."

The girls cheered, and I glanced up at Jason.

"Coach? Anything to add?"

"Yeah. I've only been here two weeks, but that was enough to realize that this team is full of the toughest, scariest competitors I've ever seen. So go out there, show no mercy, and crush anybody that tries to stand in your way!"

The girls and I all roared in approval, and Jason's feral grin fit right in with all of us. It was hard to believe he'd really only been here two weeks; he seemed like part of the team that'd always been here.

The buzzer sounded behind us, signaling it was time to retake the court.

"Alright girls, let's do this!" I shouted. "What team?"

"Wildcats!" screamed everyone, Jason included, at the top of their lungs.

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"Destroy all comers!"

The girls clapped as our starters headed out onto the floor and Jason and I shifted to stand next to each other at the front of the bench, just off the court.

"See the looks we just got from the opposing team?" asked Jason with a grin. Behind him, the other players and coaches were still giving us side-eye and concerned looks. I smiled.

"Oh yeah. The intimidation mind game is half the reason for that cheer."

"Nice."

Jason and I fist-bumped, and then turned our attention back to the game as it got underway. One way or another, this was it.

Despite the intimidation to start the second half, the other team put up a great fight. It wasn't easy, but our girls managed to persevere. Jason went wild whenever one of them used a move he'd taught, and we both spent the game screaming from the sidelines with encouragement, play calls, and just a bit of extreme, "destroy all comers" mindset. In the end, we won by eight. All our girls rushed the court, screaming and celebrating, then tamped it down long enough to be good sports and go through handshakes with the other team. Afterwards, we all gathered in a corner of the gym to do a debrief before the celebrations continued.

"Alright, I'll keep this short since I see your parents waiting to join in the celebration," I said, grinning around at my team. "You guys played amazing. You should be so, so proud of yourselves. I know I'm crazy proud of you. You worked your butts off, put it all out on the floor, and won the tournament! We've still got plenty of work ahead of us before the season's over, but that's a problem for later. For now, celebrate! Celebrate yourselves, this victory, and everything we've accomplished as a team."

The girls smiled and nodded through my speech, and when I finished, they paused before going off to their celebrations to each give me a tight hug. Then, one by one, they did the same to Jason. A few of the girls who'd used his moves thanked him for his help, and most of them paused to tell him they'd miss him. I just watched as Jason's face went from shocked, to slightly uncomfortable, to a bit of a frown.

He waved the last girl off, watching them go. Slowly, I sidled up to him, watching our team meet up with their friends and parents. I gave him a second, then sighed.

"I need to call Dick," I said. "I promised him I'd let him know how the tournament came out, like, seven times before he left, he was so upset to miss it."

Jason just gave a little noncommittal "hm" without looking at me. I watched him for a second, still staring after our team, then continued.

"You know... a lot of teams in our league have three coaches, not just two." Jason snapped his head around to look at me with wide eyes. "I don't want you to feel like you have to, but... I think the girls seriously love you, and it looks like you had fun. I'm sure Dick wouldn't mind if you wanted to... stick around?"

Slowly, his expression morphed into a smile, and his eyes slid from me back to where the girls were high-fiving and reliving the weekend. He stood a little straighter, his smile widening, and then he turned back to me with a glint in his eye. Not for the first time since I started working with him, my heart skipped a beat.

"I've got a question before I agree," he said. I raised an eyebrow and nodded for him to continue. "Is there any rule about coaches asking each other on dates?"

Now it was Jason's turn to watch with a grin while I managed a shocked expression. After a few seconds, a smile started tugging at my lips as I processed his words. Before I could answer, he held up his hands and continued.

"I'm asking, of course, to see if I need to wait until the end of the season. Grayson may be good at the peppiness and creative trick plays, but clearly this team thrives with coaches as ruthless as them."

I beamed at him, my heart floating in my chest. "Fortunately for us, there's no rule against coaches going on dates. The girls are gonna be merciless teasing us about it though. They were relentless for weeks when Dick first joined the team, and we weren't actually dating."

Jason smiled and took a step closer to me.

"I think we can handle them."

"Mmm, I'm not sure you're right, but I'm willing to do it anyway."

"You wanna go get drinks now? Celebrate a little for our first date?"

"I'm in." He held out his hand to me and I took it, then held up my phone with my other hand. "Just let me call Dick before we go."

Jason nodded, and I dialed Dick's number on FaceTime. Jason leaned over my shoulder, our arms linked together and a massive grin on his face. The phone rang for a long time, then finally, Dick's face appeared on screen. He looked a little tired and rumpled, but he smiled when he saw us.

"Hey guys! How'd it go?"

"We won!" I shouted.

"You've got a new co-coach, Dickie Bird!" shouted Jason at the same time.

Dick laughed, then beamed back at both of us through the camera. "That's great! Jay, I'm glad you ended up loving it as much as I thought you might."

Jason grinned. "Yeah, well, before I started you forgot to mention the cutthroat team energy."

Dick grimaced a little as Jason went on, probably realizing he now had TWO insane co-coaches to try to balance out, but I just smiled. For the rest of this season, I'd be working with my favorite kids in the world, my best friend, and a possible new boyfriend.

No one else in the league was going to stand a chance.

116 notes · View notes

obxone · 9 months

Text

Vigilante Shit (Chapter Five)

Edited-ish. ~2.5k words

Tag list: @fishingirl12 @gillybear17 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gills-lounge @emmafitzzz @redfieldfx @baby19sthings

Masterpage

Kiara looks up at you, eyebrow scrunching from the sun shining in her eyes. “Is Mav coming?”

“Yep, he should be here soon.” You are unable to help the smile that spreads across your face. “Is Sarah?”

“Sure is!” John B flashes a grin at you before nudging JJ. “So… Jay, it’s been a while since we’ve done a sister dump.”

“No!” You point at them, immediately taking a few steps back toward The Wreck. “No, that tradition is dead.”

“No, it’s not,” JJ laughs as he begins to move closer. His eyes scrunch as he looks at you, chin tipping back so he can smile up from his seated position. “If anything, we are two years overdue.”

“JJ Maybank!”

He mocks you in a girly voice. “Y/n Maybank!”

You glare at him. You do not miss Kie or Pope getting to their feet while trying to be stealthy. “Absolute not!” You squeal and take off for the safety of the restaurant.

You are determined to run as far as you can down the dock and dockside bar before any of them catches you. John B reaches out to grab you in his arms, but you barely dodge him.

“John B! No!” You scream, running away from him and further up the dock, away from the water. “I said no!”

“Come here!”

“No! No tossing me into the water!”

JJ laughs, joining in the chase along with Pope and Kiara. It feels like old times, but getting dropped into the water first thing upon arriving at The Wreck is not what you want to happen. You shudder at the thought of the cold water washing over you from head to toe. A gradual easing in would benefit you a lot better if they wanted to swim, and you really hope you can outrun them.

“What the hell did I do to you guys to deserve this?!” You cry, looking back at them in alarm. John B is gaining on you, and you panic, darting past the dockside bar. A yelp escapes you when you feel the brush of John B’s hand on your arm.

“What are you doing?!”

You gasp, “Finally!” Before veering to the right and to the safety of Mav’s arms.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, while he looks at John B and JJ skidding to a halt a few steps away. Pope and Kie are a few steps back from them. If you could give Mav on your side, you would both be able to push your brothers into the water and maybe even Kie and Pope.

“They are trying to drown me,” you rush out, tightening your arms around his waist. “Please don’t let them.”

He laughs before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “These two must be your brothers.”

“Yes!” You grin, hugging his waist as he leans forward to shake their hands. “This is JJ and John B.”

“Hey, man,” John B grins, shaking his hand. “You must be Mav.”

“That is correct,” Mav grins at them before looking down at you. “So, what is going on…?”

“Relaxation day.”

“No, I meant with this,” Mav reiterates before gesturing around you and the other four.

“Torture,” you offer, and JJ laughs with a shake of his head.

Kiara moves closer. “I’m Kie, and we are trying to throw her into the water.”

Mav adjusts his hold so that he can look down at you. “Are you afraid of the water?”

John B and JJ both snort and shake their heads.

“She’s actually a fish,” Pope adds in for you. He waves. “I’m Pope. She surfs better than JJ if you can believe it.”

JJ mocks offense, and you laugh, cheeks burning from the compliment.

“Maybe not now, it’s been a while since I’ve been surfing.”

Mav grins then, and you do not like the look in his eyes. “Well…” he muses before lifting you off your feet in a rush. You gasp, shoving at his chest, but he does not release his hold on you. Instead, his arms tighten around you.

“Mav!”

“I think we can get you back in the water, right guys?”

“Mav!” You squirm, and he laughs, tightening his arms around you even more so you cannot squirm. “I will never forgive you!”

He laughs, but it is too late as he walks back down the docks with you. You gasp, tightening your grip on his neck as the water’s surface comes into view with each step. The pogues cheer loudly as they follow you both down the dock. Pressing yourself against Mav’s chest, you shiver and cling to him. If you go, he is going with you.

“It’s too cold for me.” You whine loudly and see Anna and Mike Carrera step out of the restaurant.

It would not open for another hour or so which meant no guests were being disturbed by this debacle. You do not miss Anna laughing as she shields her eyes from the sun with her hand. Your teeth chatter at the ghost feeling of the cold water surging over you.

“Please, Mav, don’t do this!” You resort to begging, and he laughs. “No second date for you either Mister.”

He laughs and leans down, pecking your lips. “You’ll warm up once you are in there. And maybe we can go surfing later…”

“You surf?”

“A little.”

You hum, and he takes the distraction of his surfing revelation to step off the dock with you in his arms. You gasp as the water envelopes you. Four more bodies drop into the water around you as you kick to the surface. Mav surfaces a few seconds after you along with the rest of the pogues.

“Never forgiving you,” you mumble, shivering, and he pulls you close to him. His arms wrap tightly around you, and you almost sigh at the feeling of his body heat enveloping you.

He tries to kiss you, but you turn away, and his lips meet your cheek. “Don’t be like that,” he chides playfully, and you pout at him. “I had to win them over, you know.”

“I still don’t like you right now,” you huff, clinging closer to him, but you peck his lips quickly. The pogues groan in annoyance, and you both laugh.

“Okay, let’s dry off and get you warm,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “OR you’ll turn purple in June.”

“I’m cold-natured,” you whisper and nuzzle your face against his shoulder. “You should’ve listened to me.”

“Next time.”

“There is no next time!” You let him go and try to swim away to the dock ladder, but he pulls you back against his chest.

“Promise me that isn’t true.”

You sigh and pat his hand. “It isn’t if you let me go, and I can get a towel to dry off.”

“All right.”

He releases you, and you swim to the ladder with him behind you. Boos and sounds of disappointment follow you, but you ignore them. He follows you up the ladder where Anna and Mike both wait with towels and wide smiles.

“Welcome home, Honey,” she murmurs, rubbing your arms after wrapping the towel around you. You are surprised at her reaction but accept it with a bright smile.

“Thank you!” You brush the towel across your cheek as you huddle underneath it. “Please meet Mav.”

“Hi,” he grins, clutching his towel. “My mom loves your restaurant.”

“Thank you.” Mike grins at him. “Quite the ride outside.”

“Oh!” Mav grins as he hustles himself closer to you. “Thank you! It was a gift from my parents after winning a tournament last year.”

“Tournament? What do you play?” Anna asks him.

You glance back at the pogues and see JJ pouting that Anna and Mike seem to have taken a liking to the new you. You stick your tongue out at the pogues before leaning back against Mav’s chest.

“Surfing and golf are my two big ones,” he offers, and you tip your head back to look at him. Your eyes narrow at his fib about surfing earlier. “I placed third in nationals with surfing and won the golf tournament.”

“Congratulations!” Mike grins at him along with Anna. “Well, food and drinks will be out in a second, okay?”

“Thanks, you guys,” you smile at them, and they head back to the restaurant, and you turn to Mike. “That was a little weird.”

“What?” He asks, dropping his arms around your waist. “Most parents like me.”

“Most don’t like me.”

He laughs, nudging his lips down to yours. “I don’t believe that.”

“I used to be pure trouble.”

“I don’t believe it.”

JJ interrupts your privacy as he steps onto the dock, dripping water everywhere. “You should. She was a mess.”

“Thanks!” You glare at him, and he laughs before nudging you as he passes with his towel.

“So, those are your brothers huh?” Mav asks, his lips brushing your cheek.

You smile, watching the others follow JJ back down the dock. “Yes, JJ has been trouble since the day he was born too, and John B was the missing link that we managed to find when JJ was in the third grade.”

“Oh! John B is adopted?”

“Sort of. JJ and I were adopted by him and his dad when they were seven and it has been that way ever since.” You smile, tipping your head back to look at him. “He is my brother. It doesn’t matter that we aren’t related by blood.”

Mav presses his lips to the tip of your nose before looking up at the pogues. “And the other three?”

“Three?” You look and smile a little when you spot Sarah and John B huddled together. “Ah. Sarah Cameron.”

“Young love,” he teases.

You shake your head before smiling as you watch JJ, Pope, and Kiara hustle to the food tray Anna has brought out. “Kiara and Pope have been around for a while too. Kie crossed to the dark side for a bit but came back after everything that happened with Big John.”

“Dark side?” He asks, picking your hand up and playing with your fingers. “Who is Big John?”

“Dark side is the kook side,” you giggle and lace your fingers with his. “And Big John is John B’s dad. He disappeared a few months ago.”

“That sucks.”

You nod, frowning a bit. “I’m looking after him, though.”

Mav leans down, his lips brushing yours before he smiles at you. “My girl.”

“Oh?”

His cheeks flame at your surprise. “About that?”

“I’m listening,” you nestle back against his chest.

“Second date? You and me?”

You turn, hooking your arms around his shoulders. “I would love to. Now, what do you say we go eat some amazing food?”

----

After everyone split up for the remainder of the day and Mav went to help his mom with errands you are on a new mission. A mission to put someone back in their place and remind them that secrets are meant to stay buried.

Rafe looks up from working on his motorbike when you clear your throat to catch his attention. “Y/n.”

“Asshole.”

He snorts, dropping the microfiber cloth he had onto the seat of his bike. “What are you doing in Figure 8? Visiting your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend… yet.”

He smirks, leaning against the bike. “Why are you here then?”

You shake your head, arms crossing against your waist. “Wasting my time probably. It’s not like you care enough to stop what you and Top are doing.”

“What are we doing exactly, Maybank?”

“Rehashing old shit. Trying to ruin my restart at life here.”

He smirks, looking down at his hands, his gold signet ring catching the sunlight. “Is that all it was? Old shit?”

You glare at him. “Why do you have to be such a jerk all the time?”

He stands straight and crosses the small space between you. “I don’t give a shit what you think, y/n. And I’m not a jerk. I wasn’t the one that cheated and hooked up with a drug dealer.”

A laugh bubbles up your throat, and you shake your head. “The drug dealer you now use, right?”

He whistles low with a shake of his head before taking a step back from you. “Barry tell you that?”

“Barry and I do not talk,” you supply, staring at him. “Barry is the reason I had to leave, or did he not tell you that when you two became buddies?”

“He’s not my buddy.”

“Sure, he’s not.” You mutter before starting to walk away from him. This conversation is getting you nowhere. The self-centered Kook is staying true to his nature despite how much he tried to pretend he was not.

“Hey!” He grabs your wrist, hauling you back to him. “I’m not done talking yet.”

“Oh. Pardon me.” Sarcasm drips from your tone, and you yank your wrist back from his grip. “Please continue to enlighten me about your friendship with Barry.”

He rolls his eyes.

“I really love hearing about two of my ex-boyfriends becoming the bestest of friends. A real Disney channel moment,” you muse while glaring at him.

He shakes his head. “Why are you so angry?”

“I am angry because of my father, because of you, because of fucking Barry.” You snap at him. “I hold grudges better than most people now. It’s my comfort, it is the only thing that holds my hand at night when the demons come to play.”

“So, Mav isn’t holding your hand then?”

“Fuck you, Cameron!” You snap at him. “Why do you care that I was on a date the other night?” You glare at him, hands fisted by your sides. “You could have walked by without saying anything, and you could’ve kept your mouth shut to Topper about who I really am.”

“Just leave, y/n. I’m not talking to you when you are looking for a fight.” Rafe moves to walk past you. “I know old habits die hard…”

“No! Tell me. Why is it so bad that I went on a date with Mav?” You block him from leaving. His hands land on your hips, and your cheeks flush at the feel of his skin on yours even if it is just his fingertips.

His eyes blaze as he stares at you. “Because it wasn’t with me. You come back to this place, and you pretend I am nothing to you. I wasn’t perfect, I know that, but I wasn’t a dick to you despite what you have convinced yourself to believe.”

Your eyes turn painful, and you step away from his touch. “Why do you care, hmm? Why do you care what I think about you?” You push him further into anger. “Why do you care so much that you want to ruin my restart? Because you never loved me, you only used me, Rafe.”

His eyes darken, but then a voice cuts through the tense moment. “Y/n?”

You spin to see Sarah coming from the house. A confused look on her face. You move closer to her, and she studies over you and then Rafe. Concern and confusion clash in her features.

“What is going on?”

“Rafe is telling me all about his new friendship with Barry…” You murmur, cocking your head to the side as you stare at your ex-boyfriend. “You know Barry, right Sarah?”

“Unfortunately.”

You hum before turning your attention back to Rafe. Your eyebrows raise in a challenge. But he shakes his head.

“Go away, Maybank.”

“With pleasure.”

(Chapter Six)

Feedback is welcomed, just remember to be kind. Please feel free to like, reblog, comment, or send an ask if you want. Happy Reading.

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list.

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #outer banks rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks barry #obx barry #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x maybanksibling!reader

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darkchocolatedimples · 1 year

Text

keeper characters as things my friends and i have texted!

i'm cleaning out my phone and found wayy too many screenshots

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sophie: i've almost got keefe convinced that storks drop off babies

sophie: this may or may have not incited a breakdown 3:30 am but i've almost done it

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keefe: i'm at the mall with biana she's looking for shoes i'm looking for hot people

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sophie: how does one develop insomnia in level 2? don't know but i'll call it endurance training

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fitz: shut up you simp for my sister

dex: i'm proud

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dex: HOW IS A DEAD PERSON GONNA BE TRAUMATIZED

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keefe: i think i kissed my pillow once when i was 12 or 13

keefe: you know, 70 years ago

keefe: when we still lit things with candles

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sophie with mallowmelt: rock bottom tastes better than it sounds

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dex: idk what it's like to pull a girl i was the one pulled

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keefe: bro my brain waves feel like a siren

keefe: yk what i mean

fitz: i do not

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dex (with braces): imagine loving someone

dex: ...

dex: who has braces

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keefe after sending a picture of himself: omg whos the stylish one i wanna meet him

biana hyping him up: me too he seems so hot wtf

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sophie: YOU WANT PROBLEMS

sophie: ILL GIVE YOU SOME

fitz: this doesn't sound good

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alden: i'm taking a samoa

biana: okay they're five bucks

alden: what no discount? i'm your dad

biana: six bucks

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keefe: i just have the need to be the hottest smarted person in the room at all times to make myself feel valid

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dex: i just wasted 20 mintues of my life on a koala i will never get to see

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fitz: i'm in a whole foods crying by the bobo's toasters

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marella: 420 what's your emergency

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biana: ur so bagelicisous

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marella: shut up band kid

dex: shut up lesbian

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marella: i hope sometimes when the guys at our school are getting a little too cocky they remember that there are literal 2d drawings pulling more bitches than them

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sophie: projection>>>having problems

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biana to keefe: sugar baby would look so good on you

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biana: i love being able to hit men's booties knowing they can't fight back

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dex: british people (derogatory) what tf is beans on toast

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keefe: i WILL breathe more air than you

tam: is this a threat

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dex: this be lookin a little homosexual 🫣

biana: ^us when we see keefe and fitz

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sophie: kmsing 🤭🤭🤭🤭

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biana to fitz: hate to break it to you, you don't like her, you like the boy you think she has a crush on

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grady: maybe getting older is...beginning to like and appreciate bananas

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kenric and jolie: i hope i'm important enough to be the main character from my grave

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sophie: lmao why should i care about anything i'm 15 and i eat chocolate 🤷‍♀️

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keefe: just bc you know you're making me sweat shake and shiver doesn't mean you can or should use that to your advantage (please do) like what the fuck

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fitz: i'm not that much of an asshole

dex: this is untrue

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dex: good news! no more cannibalism. bad news, beastiality?

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keefe about sophie: the way we're twinning

keefe: she drinks red bull and cuts bangs at 2am i impulsively get stitches with no thoughts in my head bc i think its cool

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stina: currently about to fight this seagull will update

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dex: i wouldn't mind a shorter guy actually if they're too tall i'm gonna have to break their knees to kiss them

biana: that's the fun part! like glowsticks 🤩

#kotlc incorrect quotes #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc #dex dizznee #linh song #tam song #biana vacker #sophie foster #fitz vacker #stina heks #councillor kenric #jolie ruewen #grady ruewen #marella redek

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 11 months

Text

༉‧₊˚. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 || 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜!𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon & little sister!reader

― era: season 10

― summary: it had been too long since you've seen your older brother, and if he was going to be honest, he thought you were dead.

― warnings: mentions of death, arguments, fluff, and angst.

― wc: 1041

⋆ a/n: i was mentioned in a post by @morgan-wolf that gave me some prompts that they had come up with, and i figured why not do a platonic fanfic? i had a lot of fun making this and thank you for the mention! :] it's always so refreshing to write something platonic omg.

masterlist | AO3

You had honestly thought you would never see your older brother, Daryl, ever again. It just didn’t seem possible; with the lengths you’d traveled on foot to the people you’ve lost, the idea of him being alive was almost too good to be true.

You guys had been separated from each other ever since you were fifteen. It was your fault really, but the argument you had between Merle & Daryl was considered a big deal at the time, but now that you’re almost twenty-six, it was almost laughable. You had gone out drinking with some friends and hadn’t come home until the next night, and Daryl was almost losing his mind worrying about you.

You were a complete accident, your parents hadn’t cared about you since you were born, and the caretaking was left up to Daryl & Merle, but of course, Merle can’t take responsibility for anything, so Daryl was the one that took care of you most of the time. Of course, with the pressures of teenage hormones and the fact that there was nothing to do in your small town, you would eventually give in to the mischief of your friends. Daryl had dreaded the day you grew up truly, and that night was an eye opener for him, and he had no idea how to take it.

“What the hell were you thinkin’?!” Daryl asked angrily. He stood behind one of the dining room chairs, his hands having a death grip on the back of it. “I was thinkin’ that I wanted to go and hangout with my friends without you on my back!” You replied back in irritation. Merle chimed in from the couch he was sitting on, “Don’t act like we didn’t do that when we were her age, little brother.” He laughed to himself before taking a swig of his beer.

“Shut up man!” He growled.

“You’re not my fucking dad,” You bit. “So I don’t even know why you fucking care.”

His face morphed into something nasty. “Ya think I wanted to take care of ya?” He began to slowly approach you. “Yer jus’ some fuckin’ burden that I was stuck with..” His finger jabbed into your shoulder. A sickening feeling settled in your stomach as you bit back tears; his words hurt worse than you thought they would, and without thinking you said, “Fuck you, Daryl.” As you shoved him away from you and stormed out of the front door.

Daryl went to move when Merle piped up from the couch once more.

“Let ‘er go. She’ll be back, jus’ needs some time to cool off.”

Daryl wished that he hadn’t listened to him.

For the next ten years, you were on your own, and you had spent the first five holding on to hope that the only family you had managed to survive. Even though you hated Merle, he was blood, at least that’s what he had said - which you since learned was a shitty manipulation tactic. You didn’t mean what you had said to Daryl though, you didn’t have the right to say what you did to him, and maybe both of you were in the wrong; most nights when you were supposed to be sleeping, you’d stare up at the stars, your head swimming with questions.

Now, you’ve stopped wondering, just opting to live and save the people that were alive.

You were wandering back to your camp when you stopped in your tracks, slowly drawing your bow and quiver as you watched a man surveying your makeshift camp in the woods.

“Drop your weapons.” You said lowly.

You could see his back muscles tense under his angel jacket, your eyes falling on the dog that was waiting for its owner's command. Your eyes softened, you hadn’t seen a dog in so long you’ve almost forgotten what they looked like.

“No one’s gotta get hurt.” You heard him say. “You’re right, so drop your shit,” You pulled tighter on the string. “I won’t ask you again.” He froze for a second before quickly spinning around, his crossbow brought up and ready to shoot.

Your tense body deflated at the sight of Daryl.

“D?” You asked in disbelief.

Those same tears pricked at the ducts in your eyes caused you to lower your bow, becoming completely defenseless. You threw your arms around him and began to sob, clinging onto him as you could barely say a coherent sentence. Years of grief and loss completely melted from your body, as that hole in your heart had finally begun to heal.

He couldn’t believe you were still alive; all hope had died off with you the night that you disappeared. He had no idea if you had found a safe zone or if you were bitten. He desperately searched for you until Merle forced him to move, where they inevitably found the quarry and its people.

“God,” You say as you pull away from him. “You look like shit, old man.” You attempted to joke to cover up your embarrassment of showing your vulnerability. “Ya don’ look any better, brat.” He grumbled light-heartedly.

You two had begun to walk together, a couple of giggles escaping your lips as Daryl’s dog danced around your legs once he learned you weren’t a threat.

“So, where have you been?” You asked. He just shrugs, “I’ve been around.” You nodded in understanding. “Same here. I can’t even tell you where I’ve gone.” You snorted in amusement. There was another beat of silence before you spoke again.

“Where’s Merle?”

He nibbled on the skin of his lower lip nervously.

“He uh- he didn’t make it.” His voice almost sounded sad. “Oh.” You didn’t know how to feel about hearing about the eldests’ death. A part of you was sad, but the other part of you was also in disbelief, almost like you didn’t believe him. “How did he die?”

“Doin’ somethin’ stupid but kinda… heroic?”

“I would have never expected that.”

“Me neither.” He said with his classic scoff.

Despite losing one brother, you were grateful that you had the other, and if you were going to be honest, he was your favorite. Your conversations flowed as if you hadn’t had to pick up where you left off.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

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rip-quizilla · 11 months

Text

Your Leather, My Lace ~ Part 1: One Look Could Kill

*This fic was co-written by curlyfry23, whom you can find on AO3 here

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!Reader

Summary: It's your band's third time competing in Indianapolis' Battle of the Bands, and you're dead set on making 1991 the year you finally win. Of course, the moment you swear you won't fall prey to any "distractions", a guy named Eddie with big brown eyes shows up to distract you.

Word Count: 2.6k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Enemies to Lovers, Rival Bands, Tension While Singing, Leather, 80's Rock References, Song Lyrics, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Thinly Veiled Hex Girls Inspiration, Eddie Munson Lives, 1991, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Hate to Love, Oral Sex, Consensual Sex, Smut, Eddie Munson Has No Sense of Personal Space, Cunnilingus, Nipple Licking, Catholic Guilt, brat!reader, Dom/sub Undertones, light degradation, Car Sex, The Lord of the Rings References

~Indianapolis, 1991~

“It’s our year, ladies.”

You couldn’t wipe the grin off your face; this was it. You could feel it in your bones, this was your fucking year.

Denise snorted, “Sure.” Green lips curling into a rueful smirk, she struggled with her bags and band equipment while reaching up to tighten her platinum pigtails. “Not like you say that every time we drag our asses out to this thing.”

You paid her negativity no mind. She wasn’t wrong necessarily, but you refused to ignore the surge of adrenaline that was pulsing through your veins right now. “It’s different this year, don’t tell me you guys don’t feel it too.” You confidently strutted through the revolving door of the high-class hotel where Lana’s dad had made reservations for your band for the duration of the competition, and you mentally sent out a heartfelt thank you to him as you looked around, awestruck at the grandeur of the hotel. You would have been fine with putting yourselves up at a Best Western or something; having a band member who came from money really had its perks.

“I certainly feel something.” Lana drawled, eyes following a particularly attractive bellboy who threw her a wink as she sent a grin in his direction. Expression growing sour, you snapped in her face, wincing when you almost dropped your guitar case. “Hey! No! Nonono, none of that, not this year.” You ignored Lana’s pout and resumed your trek toward the front desk.

It would be your year to win… IF- and only if- you all committed to keeping your eyes on the prize. This was your third year competing for the title, and you were pretty sure that if you lost Battle of the Bands one more time, you wouldn’t be able to convince Lana and Denise to compete again. It was a big commitment; foregoing jobs, family, friends- well, you only had two of those, and they were here with you- for up to a month, depending on how far you stayed in the game. After getting cut before you even made top ten the first year, it was hard enough to persuade your bandmates to try again. Last year had been closer (you attributed that to the hours you all had dedicated to practicing day in and day out to prepare) and thought you’d had it in the bag until you were cut before making it to top five.

“No distractions this time. I’m making it a rule.” you said over your shoulder, getting in line to check in. “If we want to win this year, we need to focus.” Luna plopped her bags on the floor as she lined up behind you. “Making rules now, huh? Who put you in charge?”

You rolled your eyes, turning to face her. “Calm down, obviously I’m not telling you what to do, okay? You’re an adult, you can do what you want. However-” you raised your eyebrows, leaning towards her to ensure she got your point. “I am proposing that we all make a pact to give this competition the place on our list of priorities that it deserves.”

Denise raised an eyebrow. “And that place would be…?”

You shot a hand as high as you could, even going so far as to stand on your tiptoes. “Here! Aaaaaall the way up here! Tippy top!” You sounded as exasperated as you felt; getting these girls to care as much as you did felt like pulling teeth sometimes. “Look, it’s not like I don’t want us to have fun while we’re here, but I also know that if we stay zeroed in on our goal, all it can do is help us. Right?”

Your friends nodded and smiled, used to your intensity when it came to Battle of the Bands. “You’re right, sorry for getting bitchy.” Lana slung an arm around your shoulders, and her orange-dyed twists tickled your cheeks. “Thanks for keeping us in line, cap.” She gave you a mock salute before planting an obnoxiously loud kiss to your cheek.

You laughed, groaning dramatically as you wiped her black lipstick from your face. “You know how long it takes to do my makeup!” you giggled, swatting her away as you stepped up to the front of the line to check into your room.

***

That night would be the first round of performances for Battle of the Bands, and you had already persuaded your bandmates to come out with you to a local venue to scope out the other bands competing for the title. From the moment you walked through the doors of the grungy basement bar, you felt like a dormant part of you came alive. You loved this- genuinely loved it; the smoke flinging neon lights in every which way, the dull roar of people talking, yelling, drinking… the energy was infectious, and it made you itch to get on that stage.

Not tonight, though- tonight was not about you, it was about reconnaissance. Tonight’s bands were all new to the Battle, and while you weren’t ruling them out as potential threats, you weren’t necessarily scared of them either. After grabbing a drink from the bar with Denise and Lana, you scoped out a small table in a corner from which to watch tonight’s performances. Unfortunately, it only took a few songs from the earsore of a goth rock group to make your friends duck out in search of a more interesting bar to spend the evening. They tried to convince you to go with them, but you stood your ground, eager for any leg-up on the competition.

“Go on and have fun, really! I’m all good here.” You smiled reassuringly. They seemed skeptical and a bit disappointed, but still left you alone at your corner booth that now felt far too large for one person. Sighing, you stood and walked over to the bar, ordering yourself another drink and leaning against the slightly sticky counter.

As you took in the sight of the dumpster fire on the stage, you shook your head, disappointed. You didn’t want the rival bands to be too good, obviously, but you had been hoping they would at least be competitors. The thrill of the chase was something you felt in your bones here, and it helped you want to be better; to make yourself be better. These guys… they just made you feel sorry for them. You reached into your purse and withdrew your small moleskine notebook and began jotting down a few notes on the band’s performance. Weaknesses: lead singer is tone deaf. Lead guitarist thinks the guitar is a percussion instrument. Strengths: members all have nice hair.

You were so focused on trying to find more strengths to write down that you barely noticed the stranger looking over your shoulder at the paper you were jotting on. “Jeez,” a voice said, inches from your ear, “and I thought I was a harsh critic.” Your head whipped around, narrowly avoiding the stranger sitting directly behind you. Frowning, you replied, “Did you just read my notebook?”

The stranger, a whole head taller than you with a lean frame and a dark mane of long, frizzy hair, smiled broadly back at you. “Will you keep talking to me if I say yes?”

Oh. He was flirting with you.

You turned away, a silent answer to his question. No distractions. You had made the rule, and you intended to follow it. Bringing your attention back to the stage, you struggled to place the song the band was playing -the melody sounded familiar, but the lead singer’s tiny, screeching vocalizations were making it difficult to recognize. Finally, you realized that they were playing a very grungy rendition of “I Will Survive”; surprised, you added Impressive range of genre knowledge to the “strengths” column.

You heard a throat clear behind you, to which you rolled your eyes and looked sideways over your shoulder. He was still there, smiling somewhat less confidently now but still smiling nonetheless. “So, uh…” the stranger slid into the barstool beside yours. “What are you writing?”

You gave him a thin smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “A manual for creeps who don’t know how to take a hint.”

Glancing down at his beer, his ringed fingers tapping the bottleneck methodically, the stranger sighed, “That sounds interesting, I should give it a read.”

A corner of your mouth crept up before you could stop it. “Yeah, you probably should, might learn something.”

The barest hint of a smile from you was all he needed to bring his toothy grin back in full force. “Gotta be honest, learning was never my strong suit.”

Against your better judgment, you turned the rest of your body to face the bar, giving him your full eye contact- And damn, if those weren’t the biggest eyes you had ever seen.

You indulged him with a wry smile. “Not the schooling type?” you asked. Big Eyes placed a leather-clad elbow on the bartop, resting his head in hand and smiling lazily. “Oh no, I loved school. Loved it so much I had three senior years, actually.”

You snorted out a laugh, eyebrows raising involuntarily. “Three?” you repeated. “Damn, even I didn’t like it that much.”

He closed his eyes and nodded vigorously, “Oh yeah, loved it.” he reiterated, his expression so mockingly serious that you couldn’t help but laugh softly. Upon hearing your laugh, his smile crept up to match yours. “Biiiiig, big fan of a good ‘ole public school education,” he said.

You tapped the bar to signal to the bartender that you were ready for another round. “You would just love Catholic school, then,” you replied. “Real fun, learning about Jesus instead of evolution.”

Those wide eyes got wider somehow at the mention of Catholic school. “Are we talking about plaid skirts, nuns that slap your hand with a ruler- that kind of Catholic school?”

You nodded grimly. “The very same.” The bartender handed you another drink, and you nodded your thanks to her as you continued, “And it was an all-girls school, too.” looking at Big Eyes, “your creep ass would’ve loved it.”

Undeterred by your jab, he inclined his head and raised an eyebrow. “Something tells me if I went to school and saw you in a school uniform, I’d be blind to any other woman that crossed my path.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your uniforms weren’t the least bit sexy, and had included knee-length skirts and starchy oxford shirts… but the compliment heated your cheeks anyway.

Trying not to smile (and failing) you bit your lips and shut your notebook with a sharp thup. “Is this what you do for fun?” you asked him, “You go out to bars and hit on strangers?”

Big Eyes laughed softly, teeth still shining in the red and blue light reflecting off of him from the stage. “Maybe. It’s been pretty fun, so far.”

You reached back, rubbing the back of your neck while you glanced back to the stage. The band was packing up and heading off stage. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed while you were chatting it up with this stranger. Shaking your head ruefully, you looked back at him with an apologetic expression.

“Look,” you sighed, “you actually seem really nice, and you’re funny and easy to talk to…” His face lit up like a Christmas tree, and his eagerness at hearing your praise reminded you of a puppy. It felt as if someone were squeezing your heart in your chest. “...but I really can’t be flirting with guys at bars right now, okay? I’m sorry but now just isn’t the best time for distractions.”

“Distractions?” Big Eyes laughed, unphased. “What am I distracting you from?”

You gestured toward the stage. “My band is competing in Battle of the Bands. I came out here to see what we’re up against this year.” Holding up your notebook, you stuck your pen behind your ear with a free hand. “That’s what I was taking notes for. It’s our third year competing, so-” you grimaced, apologizing with your eyes once again. “-I don’t want to leave anything to chance. So no distractions this year. I’m sorry, under any other circumstances…” Your sentence trailed off, and Big Eyes raised his eyes as he waited for you to finish.

You glanced away, fumbling around your words “...under other circumstances, I might keep this very entertaining conversion going and maybe have another drink with you… but I need to focus. So that will not be happening tonight.” You looked back at him, heart racing as his gaze snagged yours. His expression betrayed nothing, but those eyes were so wide and intense that you didn’t want to look away. You took a deep breath. Control yourself. “I’m sorry.” you added.

He gave you a small smile and shrugged. “It is what it is. Can’t knock you for being dedicated to something.” He threw a nod to the bartender before asking, “What’s your band called?”

“Next Hex.” you replied, downing the last sip of your drink. Big Eyes handed a few bills to the bartender and nodded, eyes distant as if he were documenting the name of your band in his memory. Eyes flicking back up to you (your heart felt like it did a backflip- they’re just eyes, why was he having this effect on you?) he raised his eyebrows, sobering his expression. “Noted.” he said, “Hopefully I’ll get to see you guys play.”

You smiled, the gesture more genuine this time than the first few smiles you gave him. “Hopefully.” you repeated. “It was nice to meet you-”

Hopping off his chair and straightening his leather jacket sleeves, he held his hand out to you. “Eddie.” he filled in the blank.

You took his hand, ignoring the way your heart rate quickened when your skin touched his. “Eddie,” You mimicked before giving him your name in return. “Sorry about the circumstances.” You winced inwardly at how awkward it felt to turn a guy down mid-handshake.

Big Eyes- Eddie- smiled ruefully and shook his head as he withdrew from your handshake and placed both hands in his pockets. “Don’t apologize yet,” he said, “I might end up being your favorite groupie.”

A laugh bubbled up from your lips. “You’re not gonna go crazy stalker on me, are you? If you do, you can expect your restraining order in the mail.”

That mischievous grin plastered itself back across his face, and you were starting to wonder if this facial expression was simply his default face. “If your signature is on it, I might just get it framed, rockstar.” Satisfied with having the last word, Eddie gave you one last blinding smile before backing away from the bar and disappearing into the crowd.

You continued looking in his direction until he vanished from your line of sight, and a part of you wished he hadn’t been scared off so easily… but you immediately chided yourself for wishing a man hadn’t taken no for an answer. How often were men who flirted with strangers at bars respectful? This guy was one in a million. Mentally, you cursed your luck for having such horrible timing.

You waved down the bartender and asked how much your tab was, but to your surprise she shook her head. “Your friend paid for you, don’t worry about it!”

“Oh.” you said, surprised. You had already pulled out a couple one dollar bills, so you handed them to her anyway. “Well here, these are for you then.” Smiling, she took the bills from you and pocketed them in her acid wash jeans. “Aw, thanks hun! Have a great night!” With that, she turned to help the next patron a few seats away.

So, you thought, I just turned down a guy who was funny, respectful, AND paid for my drink even when he knew he wasn’t getting anything out of it. You shook your head, slowly making your way to the exit.

This had better be our fucking year.

Part 2

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #rockstar eddie munson #stranger things fic #stranger things au #eddie munson lives #enemies to lovers

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