#thinking i might only make it to 4.5K and be okay with it!!

[sabraeal]

Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 8

[Read on AO3]

“Don’t know what to say, sir.” The crew chief’s young enough that his knees don’t click when he levers up from the scaffolding, sandy hair made mussed and muddier still by the amount runnels his fingers have tracked through it. Youngest to ever make the grade, hand-picked by the Marshal himself-- though scuttlebutt had always painted that more as a punishment than a promotion, punitive action for a job too well done. “We’re still waiting on some of the diagnostics, and I’ve got some of my guys running over the wiring with a fine tooth comb, but I gotta say...”

It’s clear Shuuka’s never thought of it that way, not when he reaches out, giving Rex Tyrannis a chummy chuck on the chest plate. “There’s nothing wrong under hood here, far as I can tell.”

It’s difficult not to clench, not to let even the smallest nerve in his jaw jump, but if there’s one thing Mitsuhide knows how to do, it’s to pretend everything’s Situation Normal when it’s all Charlie Foxtrot. There’s a verve on the deck today, a current just beneath the skin of that scuffed up steel that puts a spring in every step clad in combat boots and coverall gray. The King’s out of his box, the air seems to buzz, and some big motherfuckers are gonna learn how to kneel. He’d hate to ruin it.

Shuuka’s palm presses flat against the plate, almost reverent, grease stains streaked so deep it’s hard to tell where skin ends and titanium begins. “Old girl’s fit as a fiddle for something two marks behind what’s rolling off the assembly line.”

Funny that he can place a man on this deck by just that: an old girl and smile. When the Marshal sat in the hot seat, no tech worth his tags would sling anything else but he’s and hims around the Tyrannis; there was just something about that edifice of titanium and tungsten and hubris was all male from the moment it rolled off the line. But a few years on the shelf and suddenly the memory of it goes soft; a monster made from miracles and mental turns into a spry she needing a little extra handhold to get past the finish line.

Kiki would have something to say about that, if she heard it. Probably several somethings, and all of them not fit for polite company. Not that there was much of it to go around here, but still-- most of these coveralls were a stone’s throw away from the academy. Didn’t need to demoralize them right out the gate.

“Good job, LT.” Kid must be holding a breath; a clap on his back knocks a hiccup right out of him. “Keep me updated.”

“Will do, sir,” Shuuka wheezes, rubbing at his shoulder. “Crazy stuff, isn’t it though? Whole deck would have been would have been FUBAR if Tyrannis let that charge go. Not to mention what would have happened to you all in Mission Control.”

Mitsuhide’s gone toe-to-toe with acid-spitting kaiju, with mountain-class monsters whose mouths have more in common with can openers than teeth, with actual hand-to-god nightmares from the deepest recesses of his childhood subconscious, and yet--

Yet none of them have thrown him from his bunk in a cold sweat, heart galloping a mile a minute behind the ragged cage of his ribs. Blue haunts the edges of his vision even now, waiting for him to close his eyes, to simply blink before it ambushes him, death painted on the back of his eyelids in scintillating detail. Even in his dreams, he’s only got one lifeline: some microphone smaller than his finger joint and the blind hope that there’s someone who can still hear him on the other side.

It’s the sort of thing that would land him on Shirayuki’s couch if he stopped to think too hard about it. Which he can’t; any second that siren could scream out and set them all scrambling to stations. His head’s hardly top priority when there’s more important parts needed in a rig.

A laugh rasps out of him, stilted even to his own ears. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t you worry, sir.” Shuuka hooks his hands around his hips, fingers painting gray streaks across even grayer coverall. “The whole crew’s real serious about getting to the bottom of it. A malfunction like that wouldn’t have been fun for any of us. ”

“Great.” That’s the sort of attitude he’d love to see if there were anything to get to the bottom of. Shuuka and his crew might be able work miracles on a mechanical failure, but they could do fuck all for a pilot one. Unless whatever’s wrong with Obi can be fixed with good old deckhand moonshine, which-- well, he’s heard of stranger things. “Glad to hear it.”

There’s a pause, a long one; a chasm filled up with speculation and secrets neither of them are at liberty to let loose. Instead, Shuuka just squints out over the floor, a strained concern stretching the corners of his smile as he asks, “Say, you think they’ll be sending anyone to take Tyrannis out for a drag anytime soon?”

It’s an innocuous question, just the sort the crew chief should be asking now that they’ve taken his baby out of its box-- there’s a difference between regular upkeep and active-duty maintenance, a world of it, enough to keep a kid up at night wondering whether his uncrossed T or his naked I will kill a man come morning-- but coming off a handshake as hot as that one...

Well, he wouldn’t be the first to park his fishing expedition on Mitsuhide’s pond today, that’s for sure.

“Can’t say anything for sure,” he tells him, face aching from the effort. “But if the Marshal says anything where I can hear it, I’ll be sure to pass it along.”

For as fast and high as Shuuka’s climbed the ladder these past few years, he’s not the sort to raise his voice-- hell, he’s not even one to frown. But the kid looks at him now, and there’s none of that happy-go-lucky left in him, just the hard evaluation of a man whose job is to find a nicked wire in rat’s nest.

“Just between you and me, sir?” he hums, voice pitched so low Mitsuhide can hardly make him out over the welders. “The old girl’s been up on the shelf for a while. She was built solid-- built to last, like all the Mark 3s, but--” a breath whistles through his teeth “--she was made to be used too.”

Mitsuhide keeps his posture casual as a he can bear it, being the officer on deck. Anything to make it look like they’re just shooting the shit, and not...whatever this is. “Something I should know about, LT?”

“It’s not anything to worry about.” Strange thing for a man to say when he’s checking his corners, stepping close enough for their arms to brush on the scaffolding. “Just...sometimes when the older ones sit on the shelf, it makes their suspension a little lose. Joints don’t quite move like they should. Parts aren’t always right where you expect them. Not like the newer chrome, you know?”

“Right.” He lets the word roll around in his mouth, fully tasting the flavor of it before he asks, “So what’s that mean for getting boots on the deck?”

His hands fly off the rail, waving off his worries. “Ah, nothing, nothing! Really, Rex is ready to take a walk the minute she’s off the leash. Fighting condition! It’s only...” Shuuka hesitates, casting him a long look from the corner of his eyes. “Something like that...sometimes it makes it harder for them to fight up close. Puts more kinks in the armor when they go hand-to-hand.”

Mitsuhide scrubs at the back of his undercut, stubble scraping at his palm. That’d be a death knell for a machine like their Redwood Dancer. But Rex Tyrannis... “Good thing Kain Wisteria designed that thing to dominate a battlefield, not dance on it, I guess.”

“Guess so,” Shuuka agrees, shoulders slumping over the rail. “A few days ago, I would have told you the girl’s better than new, but, sir-- I could have sworn we did every check on that plasmacaster the lot of us could come up, and still it nearly took out half the dome. I swear--” he lets out a huff of a laugh, almost fond “-- these older ones, it’s like they got a mind of their own. Or like they’re still haunted by the pilots, even after...ah, you know...”

Oh, there’s a lot Mitsuhide knows. He knows he’s never once stepped on stage, but if Shuuka ask him to chassé-sauté-pirouette right off this scaffolding right now, his body would remember how. He’s never once read Alice in Wonderland, but he can recite the Lobster Quadrille by heart. His hair has been military regulation since sixth grade, but he knows how it feels to have someone wrap their fingers through it at yank. “Don’t think it’s the jaegers that are haunted.”

Shuuka blinks up at him. “Sir?”

It’s not the sort of thing they talk about in the dome-- actively discourage, the Marshal would say with that smile of his, the one that never quite makes it to his eyes. It’s bad enough when one of them chase the rabbit in the pod, but to admit there’s something that lingers, that the ride doesn’t just stop when they hop out of the harness--

Well, the last thing people here need to think about is how thin a thread their lives are balanced on.

“Ah, sorry there LT.” He clasps him on the shoulder, smiling hard enough to make his molars creak. “Chasing the rabbit and I don’t even got my party clothes on. Hazard of the job, I guess.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me saying, sir, you’ve been going more hours than you haven’t.” Shuuka sends him a skeptical squint. “When’s the last time you saw your rack?”

Truth is, the last few nights he hasn’t so much seen his bed as stumbled to it, so exhausted he was asleep before he hit the mattress. But that’s not the sort of answer a subordinate wants to hear when--

“You know, if you gotta think about it--” a smile rucks up one side of the chief’s mouth-- “it’s been too long.”

“Ah...” Mitsuhide scrubs a hand across his hairline. It comes away moist. “I guess I could do with a break.”

“Not much that eight hours and three square can’t fix, major.” This time it’s the kid who claps his shoulder, not enough to sting but enough that he steps out of his stupor, suddenly exhausted. He’d be embarrassed by how much if only Shuuka wasn’t smiling, the kind that said he’d seen it all before and he’d see it a hundred times before he finally set aside his kit and coveralls. “Go hit the showers.”

It’s not that Mitsuhide doesn’t appreciate the sentiment. If anything, it’s just the sort of wall poster positivity Zen accuses him of giving on the regular, still wiping sleep from his eyes as he grouses, there’s something deeply wrong with you. No one’s this chipper in the morning without coffee.

It’s just that in his experience, there’s a good number of things that food and sleep won’t fix no matter how much of it a body get. No three course meal is going to soften the blow of a kaiju, no full night’s sleep is going to take the edge off losing someone out in the drink. It can’t help how many miles he is from home, how long it’s been since he’s seen his mother’s face on more than just a grainy screen. It won’t change that every time she giggles out bisous at the end of their calls, it might be the last.

And it’s certainly not going to help whatever went down in that Conn-Pod. Nothing this commissary can whip up, at least.

Or so he thinks, right up until the shower spray hits his back, and every muscle there relaxes.

“Jesus.” He bows his neck, letting more of the water sluice down his spine. “Maybe I did need a break.”

“Good.” 

For one, blissful moment, he’s sure that voice is inside his head, that it’s just that small sliver of Kiki that’s worked deep under the nail bed of his brain until it’s impossible to tell where it begins and he ends. A nice thought, a sane one, but he knows: that voice wouldn’t have an echo.

Mitsuhide turns, not-- not all the way, but enough that the water splits over his shoulder, spraying down chest and back with equal fervor, and--

And she’s just standing there, blank tank clinging to her like a second skin, her coverall pushed to her hips with a thin strip of pale flesh peeking through the gap between. “It’s dinner time.”

And of course, the icing on this particular cake: she’s got his towel.

There’s no secrets in the drift, no fantasies that get to stay hidden in the shadowy corners of his mind, and so there’s no use pretending that this isn’t how half of his start: showers steaming and Kiki catching him in a corner, both of them getting wet, as--

Ah, no need to make this worse. It’s, er, already hard enough to hide what’s going on below his waist, let alone if he goes and makes an event out of it.

“Kiki,” he gasps, scrabbling at the lifeline she tosses him. Stupidly, of course; the water’s still going at the only pressure it knows-- full blast-- and by the time he’s got it tucked around his waist, the towel’s as soaked as he is. “What are you--?

“It’s dinner time,” she repeats, slow as the stare she drags up him, mouth hooking into a smirk. “You hungry?”

The knot slips at his hip; only those ranger reflexes keep him from flirting with disaster. “W-what?”

“I am.” Her arms fold right under her breasts, and it’s a struggle to keep his eyes from tracking the movement. “Zen is too.”

Mitsuhide blinks, the shift in tone leaving him stymied. “H-he is? He told you that?”

“No.” Annoyance flashes in her eyes, lightning from a distant storm. “But he needs to eat. Whether he wants to or not.”

Her hip cocks, both the angle of it and her brows daring him to chide her. 

“Kiki,” he sighs, fist clenching tighter in the cloth. “You know as well as I do that the only way out of a hangover like that is through. If he’s not ready... we can’t just brow beat him into being better.”

Kiki’s spent the better part of a decade proving to the boy’s club here that’s she’s one of them, that there’s no need to relegate her to the personnel head just to keep the dress on the door, or for some private shower to be set aside for her own use. That she can go to the mat with any one of them and end up on top without special treatment. That her blood, sweat, and tears was just as real any anyone’s.

But she lifts her chin, and with every imperious inch she proves she’s General Seiran’s daughter.

“Not--” the edge of each word clips to a point “--with that attitude.”

The Academy might only be nine months, three trimesters spread across twenty-four weeks total before they roll their shiny new recruits into the grinder, but it’s not all just simulations and bushido. No, before they’re even allowed a glimpse of the combat room, they have to go through the basics-- engineering, K-science, tactics. And there’s no learning all that without talking about the greats.

Kain and Abel Wisteria. Haruto Jiran, usually in the same breath. Duc and Kaori Jessop. Mason Arleon and Ren Haruka. Lo Hin Shen and Xichi Po. Lata Forzeno, before he up and disappeared from the program. And of course, no tactics course would be complete without discussing Luke Seiran.

Most Rangers made a name for themselves by bold maneuvers and suicidal risks, half of them going out in a blaze of glory before they could rack up more than three kills. But General Seiran did it by living, dodging acid sprays and chainsaw teeth until those lizards left a scaly side open, waiting to spring until victory was no longer an opportunity but a certainty. He’d kept that reputation as a marshal, only losing two rangers from his dome during his five year tenure, until they bumped him up to top brass.

There’d been speculation when his daughter joined up that she’d be much the same. Slow to speak and hard to rile, everyone had seen her father in her, and yet--

And yet, the knock at his door is all the warning Zen has before she drags him through it, locking his arms in a hold he’d need at least six inches and eighty more pounds to break. A fact Mitsuhide’s learned through hard-won experience. Even still, his shoulder doesn’t sit quite right.

“I already said,” Zen grunts as she steers him through the commissary doors, “I’m not hungry.”

“Shut up.” Kiki’s never had much need for eloquence when her eyebrows can do so much of the heavy lifting. “Last thing you ate was a cup of yogurt, and that was last night. You’re hungry, and you’ll eat.”

If you knows what’s good for you, her tone implies, along with the dire consequences if he doesn’t.

It’s enough to get him on a bench. “Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I’m hungry.”

Kiki Seiran’s frown could make battle-hardened soldier spring for the head, but Zen just weathers it, drawing this stand off to a stalemate. “I’m gonna get you something. I’ll even make it green.” She glances across the table, scowl sending shivers down even Mitsuhide’s spine. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”

There’s not enough showmanship in a Seiran to stomp, but Kiki moves with a purpose, exuding the sort of don’t fuck with me energy that makes seas of servicemen part in her path. She might be one of the smaller rangers on deck, but everyone who has dreamed of sliding on a drive suit knows that an altercation with her is career limiting. Mostly for the joints. 

Or at least the ones that didn’t grow up with her being two doors down do.

“What crawled up her ass and died?” Zen hunches over the table, shoulders hiked up around his ears as sharp as pickets, like that might warn everyone to keep their distance. “All I say is that I’m not hungry, and she thinks she can get all up in my business. Like there’s something wrong with me just because I don’t need to eat all the time.” He glances up at him, annoyed. “I’m fine, you know.”

The thing is, Zen believes it. His eyes are jumping all around this room, not able to hold a gaze while saying it, but he’s convinced he’s okay. All his parts are in the right place, nothing’s bleeding, and he’s not waking up in the wee hours screaming, so what’s there to complain about? A couple skipped meals here and there, a few extra hours of sleep, none of that feels like trouble, not to a guy who has trained his whole life to climb into a Conn-Pod and leave it all to the drift.

So there’s no point in starting in argument, in scolding him for not taking better care. Instead, Mitsuhide hums, not quite an agreement, and not quite not. Middle of the road--

“Oh, fuck you,” Zen sneers, digging a fist through his hair. “I am. Just had one hell of a drift. You know how those are. It’s just like...”

Like your body isn’t your own. Or that there’s more of it, a whole person’s worth, that won’t work no matter how many signals your brain pumps out.

“A hangover.” That’s what they used to call it in the Academy. Made sense when the first trip through the Pons System usually ended with a cadet hanging over the toilet. “I still eat.”

Zen glares. “Of course you do. You’d die if you didn’t eat a whole cow every day.”

“Be fair.” A tray slams down on the table in front of him, leafy greens fluttering in disarray. “Sometimes he eats a whole turkey instead. For cardiovascular health.”

“Hey.” It’s always like this when the two of them snipe at each other; if he stands on the sidelines long enough, he’s the one bound to end up in their sights. “I abide by the PDPC’s nutritional guidelines. For a man my height--”

Zen snorts. “Don’t pretend this has anything to do with your height.”

“That’s--”

“You think all those calories are going into your bone structure?” Kiki folds her arms behind her own dinner, one perfectly plucked eyebrow rising with the sort of searing skepticism only a Seiran could manage. “Please, if they let Zen in, I think the PDPC isn’t concerned with inches on a yardstick.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zen forehead fouls up with the signs of a stormfront even the Pacific would be hard-pressed to match. “I’ll have you know that I grew at least two inches in basic, and after the Academy, I--”

His teeth snap shut with a clack, hard enough Mitsuhide’s molars ache with sympathy. Every inch of his body quivers with tension, alert the way a ranger is in his rig, ready for conflict to rear right up out of the waves--

And that’s when the doors swing open. The commissary is packed shoulder-to-shoulder now that third shift’s let out, J-techs and K-science and admins all bumping elbows to make some space; even a familiar faces could get lost in the crowd, and yet Zen whips around and fixes on this one right away. 

Not because of the full head of dark bristle, or the cheekbones so angular they could cut glass-- that’s par for the course in a place that specializes in picking clean the bones of other service branches, poaching only the best of the best. No, it’s how he slips through the door, not with the macho swagger the Academy breeds into its recruits, but with a cat’s boneless saunter, like his skin is just a suggestion of where he ends, not a hard boundary. He’s got that ranger confidence, the kind that says he could take down every body in the room, but on him it’s not hot air, not some way he gasses himself up to fight ten ton monsters, but--

But the truth. There’s a ruthlessness to him, an edge that says he’d be willing to turn that even onto himself if it meant he stayed breathing.

It makes Mitsuhide’s hands itch, makes him want to pick up a jo and see just how much of that really bears out on the mat. To see if he’s all attitude like most of the rangers that strut under the dome, or--

Ah, but another cracked chin isn’t what this situation needs. Not when Zen’s already half out of his seat, quivering like a dog at the end of his leash.

Not when Obi catches a glimpse of him, a flash of red hovering at his shoulder, and ducks right back out the way he came. Zen practically collapses back on the bench, all that nervous energy turned to despair.

“Oh, I get it,” Kiki hums, leaning a chin on her fist. “He’s ghosting you.”

Zen spears a spinach leaf. “It’s complicated.

“I gotta tell you, major.” Shuuka lifts his hands, something less than a shrug but more than a sigh. “This whole thing’s got me stumped.”

Mitsuhide hums, a toneless question, palm scraping across the bristle at his neck. “You don’t say.”

“We’ve gone over every bolt of the old girl and there’s not a thing out of place, not even a line of code left to bug.” He hooks his hands around his hips, squinting straight up into Rex Tyrannis’ sightless eyes. “Either this whole thing was a fluke, or...”

There’s a whole sea of things that aren’t said in that silence, a hull full of hunches that are too dangerous to air out. Shuuka struggles there, mouth working around an allegation with too much armament to bring into civil conversation. But they both know: he has to. It’s not his job to spit out what the higher ups want to hear, but to accurately assess the problem.

And by the pained look in the crew chief’s eye, he’s done just that. “I’m thinking that there might not be a problem with the plasmacaster itself,” he says, winding up so slow Mitsuhide can see every word before he hears it. “But maybe there is one between the pons and pod.”

Pilot error. Chasing the rabbit. His jaw clenches on reflex. “I--”

Red flashes, right down past his feet. He can see blaze through the grating, flitting from bay to bay like a cardinal in a bush. The same way it had fluttered by Obi’s shoulder in the mess, there one moment and gone the next. Haah, now there’s someone who might have some answers.

“We’ll have to pick this up later, LT,” he says, giving the kid a pat on the shoulder. “Something’s just come up.”

There’s no reason to rush; his target isn’t much of an elusive one, even when she’s got a purpose-- short legs and too many hours behind a desk don’t really promote hustle-- and she’s sure not in a hurry now. No, by the way that professional-style ponytail is idling down by Rex Tyrannis’s toes, she’s looking for a reason to stick around. One that might have to do with the six-foot shadow she’s conspicuously missing.

Still, Mitsuhide bounds down the scaffolding like there’s a fire under him, hopping down entire flights when there aren’t J-Techs to worry about on the rebound. It’s the kind of physical stunt he thought he outgrew when the Academy put their patch on him; the kind of showboating that had been smothered out of him when they stood him in front of a hundred ton killing machine and told him to protect mankind or die trying.

But one jump down rattles the scaffolding, enough that she looks up, big-eyes rounding as she lands on his face. Her mouth shapes itself around his first syllable, but he’s the first one to wave, to call out, “Shirayuki! Just...just a minute, please!”

“Ah...” Shirayuki doesn’t have the sort of voice that implies volume, the kind that only lifts itself to fill the space between two bodies, not a room. But she takes one look at him up on the grating and lets her chest expand enough to boom out, “Take your time!”

It’s a kind sentiment-- one he appreciates when the most common one he gets from up top is, and put some hurry on it-- but Mitsuhide’s got no intention of making the doc wait around. He cans the cadet-style antics, sure, but being a big man in a hurry tends to clear a path real quick. He pounds down the stairs two at a time, hitting the deck with a friendly, “It’s been a while.”

Weeks at least, if he doesn’t count the commissary. Not since he and Kiki spent a whole afternoon idling on the sidelines, watching some boys from Hong Kong skid to victory by the skin of their teeth. The dividing lines had come down, him on one side, and her on the other, and when they lifted, well...

“It has been.” Shirayuki smiles the way he wears his drive suit: easy, like she’s made for it. ��Things have been going...well?”

“No kaiju.” That’s the only metric that matters under the dome; whether that’s good or not comes down to personal opinion. By the grimace on her face, Shirayuki knows it. “And you? Everything going...ah...?”

This should be it: his moment. The perfect place to insert a conversational elbow and steer this whole topic right around, to finally ask what’s been itching at him since last night. And yet--

He can’t. Maybe Kiki could just come out and ask if Obi’s tearing himself up, if he’s locked himself in his bunk and gone on some sort of hunger strike, the way dogs do when they’ve really got a mind to pine. Not without admitting that’s just the sort of thing Zen’s been up to these last few days, and considering what he thinks of Shirayuki, well, it seems a little cruel.

But Shirayuki’s standing in front of him right now, politely waiting for him to wrap up these pleasantries, so he settles for, “...Fine?”

“Oh!” That easy smile of hers strains under her laugh. “Keeping busy!”

They say rangers have an instinct, a gut feeling for opportunity. In a jaeger, that’s an opening, a sense for the weak spot on a body that’s made of muscle and scale and whatever spite the Pacific can spit at them. It’s the bleeding edge between success and failure, of limping home alive or being an empty box at your mother cries over at a funeral.

With two feet on dry ground, it’s listening to the whistle of a soft pitch as it passes you by. Which is what’s going to happen right now, if he doesn’t figure out how to put a question together.

Just blurting it out is too...blunt. Too much like vulnerability, a voice like Shirayuki’s opines in his ear. He’s got to switch up his tactics. More than one way to skin a cat, after all. Something more subtle, maybe.

“So I’d imagine.” He hooks an arm over the railing, casual. “Since there’s, uh, been a lot to sort out. After...everything.”

There, perfect.

“You, uh...” He coughs, so natural, into his shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

All right, that not so much.

Her smiles twitches, too tight, before it melts away, a hiccup of a breath rolling right into a giggle.

“Oh no,” she manages around it, clutching her belly. “We’re doing it again.”

Mitsuhide stares. “Ah...we are?”

A small hand waves between them, utterly helpless. “We’re both asking around the same things again. Fumbling around in the dark from different directions!” She collects herself with a sniff, wiping tears from her eyes. “So I’m guessing you haven’t gotten much out of Zen? When I saw you out yesterday, I thought...”

“Ah...” He grimaces. “No, that’s as much headway as we’ve made all week. I thought since you were out with Obi, that maybe he had been...?”

Seeing you, he doesn’t say, which means there’s no need for him to rush to tack on, professionally. Not that personally seems to be off the table. Just a few weeks ago, Zen and the good doctor had seemed like a done deal save for some thorny professional ethics to work around on her part, but now--

“I’m sorry.” Her smile strains at the corners. “Even if had, I couldn’t tell you.”

Well, it looks like she might not be in a rush to be ethically complicated over this one.

“Welp.” He lets out a chuckle of his own, thumbs hooking hard into his belt loops. “Guess we’re both coming back empty handed after this fishing expedition, huh?”

There’s a rueful slant to her smile as she flicks her gaze away, not so much bashful but frustrated. “Seems like. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“No, no!” He waves a hand between them. “Don’t worry about it. I’m the one sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”  

Her eyebrows furrow, a reflection of her frown. “That’s not a very generous interpretation. Zen used to be your copilot, it’s only natural that you would have strong feelings about his happiness.”

He used to be Zen’s copilot, but there no way to explain that distinction to someone outside the drift, to try to explain what having a jaeger means to someone who hasn’t dreamed of being in one.

“Everything’s going to work out on it’s own, I’m sure,” he says instead. “We just have to let it.”

There’s a dubious rumple to her mouth, a question in her eyes that she knows better than to ask. “If that’s what you think...”

He doesn’t, not a bit, but Mitsuhide puts on his brights smile when he says, “Of course I do.”

In a dome full of rangers and ranger-hopefuls, there’s no magic hour when the gym clears, when crowded machines and rubberneckers are exchanged for freedom and silence. Or at least, no reasonable hour; Kiki keeps suggesting he join her at midnight, but for a man raise on the military’s clock, that’s...way past his bedtime.

So instead he settles for an audience, racking up his plates while a tidy little crowd idles just far enough away for plausible deniability. Or it least it would be, if there weren’t so many of them, whispers gaining an edge as he loads a ninth plate on either side. By the time he sets his soles against the footplate, it’s a quiet roar, and when he presses through his first rep, it cuts to a gasp.

It’s the machine that does most of the work on a press; he squats half this-- well, a little more; last thing he needs is some J-tech fainting because he went to ten plates. But there’s no need to share that, not when the room’s actually quiet while he does his reps, letting him think for once, his thoughts as disjointed as they are in the drift, dwelling on--

Well, not Kiki cornering him in the showers, that’s for sure. They spend a whole trimester on mental hardiness at the Academy, on keeping that iron grip whenever they take a dip in the drift, but all it took was one handshake with Kiki Seiran to turn all that training useless. He’d like to believe she’s just kind enough not to say anything, not to mention how unprofessional it is for him to blurt all his sexual fantasies out the moment their handshake’s complete, but sometimes she looks at him, mouth hooked slyly like it was in the head last night, and he wonders...

“Well, well.” A shadow falls over him, just as oily as the smirk that casts it. “Lowen. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you hard at work.”

Mitsuhide’s teeth grit down into a smile. “Hisame Lugis. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, you know.” That floppy hair of his shifts-- not regulation-- baring the vicious glint in his eye. “If I’m going to be moving around ten tons of metal, I figure I can put in a few hours to prepare.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Good thing my right side has always been my best, I suppose.”

It’ll take more than a few bicep curls to replace me, Mitsuhide doesn’t say, struggling to keep that sunny disposition. “You don’t say. Hadn’t heard any news that we had a seat open in a pod.”

“Not yet. But it’s only a matter of time.” The smirk hooks to a deeper slant, and Lugis leans, fingers close enough to brush his kneecap. “Better keep that leg in good condition, Lowen. Since it’s the only half of you that’s any use.”

That scarecrow of a man stalks off, and oh, Mitsuhide likes to give everyone a fair shake, to let everyone have their chance to grow, but he even he has to admit: he does not like that man.

“Wow,” hums a voice right in his ear. “He seems fun.”

Mitsuhide knows better than to startle on the bench, but he does jump, footplate dropping hard into his soles. “Jesus.”

“Easy there, big guy.” He’s never seen Obi up close, but now he’s got a a hand on his shoulder, patting him the same way a man might soothe his dog. “Guy could lose a finger like that. Maybe a few toes? I don’t know, I try not to think about how that stuff works with these things.”

“Ah, I...” It’s stupid how his chest heaves, how this has pushed him more than thirty reps. “I wasn’t really expecting...?”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” The hand on his shoulder helps guide him up, making him level with that grin. Alright, maybe he does get why Kiki punched first, asked questions later. “Used to get told to wear a bell. Not that it would have helped here. Your eyes were for that snake and that snake only.”

“Hisame Lugis. He’s kind of a...” Bastard. “Prick.”

“Yeah, he seemed like a real barrel of monkeys.” Obi steps back once he’s upright, arms slung behind his head. “Have to admit, I’m a little jealous.”

Mitsuhide glances up at him, confused. “J-jealous?”

“Yeah, I came in here and saw you lifting, and I thought, he’s Master’s guy, he’ll be all on me like white on rice.” Those strange eyes of his narrow, only a flash of gold between the lids. “But snake boy got all the attention.”

He’s too busy trying to catch his breath to keep up with the conversation. “Zen wouldn’t like it if he knew you called him--”

“Listen, big guy, I know what you’re after.” Obi’s all grins when he bends down, but none of it reaches his eyes. “You’re thinking that if all your friends there took me to the mats, you want a spin.”

His first instinct is to deny it, to say prefers civil conversation to combat, but--

But his hands itch. He’s a ranger, after all.

“Yeah,” he pants out. “Why not.”

The gym isn’t as well equipped as the combat room, but there’s jo slung against a rack. None of them big enough for him, of course, but--

“I was thinking we might do something a little different.”

Mitsuhide squints over his shoulder. “Different?”

“Yeah.” There a sharp edge hidden in that smile, something that says it’s looking for a bloodier sport. “I was thinking...Big Guy like you must do well at hand-to-hand.”

His fingers curl, knuckles cracking as they settle into a fist. “I’m not half bad.”

#obiyukibingo23 #obiyuki #mitsukiki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #pacific rim au #my fic #ans #here i was worried that after writing the first draft that i wouldn't have enough to make a chapter! #thinking i might only make it to 4.5K and be okay with it!! #and i had to move at least three different scenes to later chapters #got this next little arc planned out and i'm excited to dig in

[rafesmuse]

after dark — r.c.

pairing: ghostface!rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: smut 18+, unprotected sex, dubcon, violence, blood, murder, knife play, mask kink, hair pulling, spanking, cursing, toxic, controlling, manipulative and possessive behaviour, oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, creampie, degradation, face slapping, dacryphilia, breeding kink

word count: 4.5k

summary: the bloodlust killer that has been terrorising the town could be closer to you than you might think.

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“Rafe?” you called out to your boyfriend who was attentively watching the TV from beside you on the couch, a deep sense of unease and concern in your voice. “Yeah, baby?” he replied, his eyes still glued to the screen as his warm hand moved to your thigh, giving it a squeeze to let you know that he was listening. “I’m… I’m scared” you murmured with your brows knitted, referring to the news report about a killer being on the loose, terrorising the entire town for weeks now. They played footage taken from a Ring doorbell camera that showed him wearing a black and white mask, identical to the one from the Scream movies to hide his identity, along with a full black outfit.

So far, there has been an estimated five victims, all of them male. Men between the ages of nineteen and twenty-six who are university students were the killer's primary target, it seemed. You were familiar with all of them— you had worked on group projects with a number of these people and even tutored two of them, helping them with subjects that you excelled at to earn some extra cash. To sum up, you saw all of the murdered male students regularly. Fear prickled over your skin as the reporter revealed more shocking details about the murders.

Rafe turned to face you, an empathetic smile swept across his handsome face as he moved closer to you, the palm of his warm hand resting on your cheek as he looked at you with his sparkling blue eyes. “Don’t be scared baby. You know I’ll take care of you, alright? I won’t ever let anything happen to my sweet girl” You fidgeted with your hands and looked down, letting his words sink in. Rafe always took care of you, ensuring that you were happy and healthy— he’d do anything for you. For the first time ever, though, you were unsure if Rafe could truly protect you from a bloodlust killer who has murdered men even bigger, stronger and more athletic than Rafe.

He looked off into the distance, thinking deeply as he released a hesitating breath, “Look, why don’t you stay with me here? Hmm? It’s too dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you. You’ll be safe here, I promise” you met his eyes again and nodded, feeling relieved that you can be with him every minute of the day.

Every minute of the day, that is, unless you were in class, because school life didn’t pause. Why it didn’t was a mystery to you, but the police stated that they had everything under control, which you found hard to believe. It made you feel anxious to be distanced from Rafe during those times. You not only feared for yourself, but for him as well. It became impossible to concentrate in class. Knowing that anyone could become the next victim sent your mind into overdrive. No one was safe.

You took your phone out of your pocket and opened iMessage, scrolling through your conversations before tapping your and Rafe’s. You occasionally glanced up quickly to make sure the teacher wasn't watching you before typing a message.

You: I miss you so much :( Are you okay?

Rafe 💞: Miss you more, my pretty girl. I’m alright, just hanging out with Top.  

His words still made you blush, your cheeks heating up as a tiny smile formed on your face before you quickly looked up, checking if anyone saw you texting. The teacher is lost in her own world, going over theories while you see several other students on their phones as well, evidently bored by the contents of the class. You returned your focus to your phone and started typing a new message.

You: Be careful, okay? I’m scared…

Rafe 💞: Baby, I won’t let anything happen to you, got it? You know I have your location on my phone. I will keep an eye on you. Buy yourself some pretty lingerie and I will help you relax when you get home ;)

Rafe Cameron transferred $500 to your bank account.

Your eyes grew wide before you let out a chuckle at how easily he gives you money when you don’t even need it. You hastily typed a ‘thank you’ message and slipped your phone back into your pocket with a giddy smile on your face before the teacher could notice you.

When class finally ended for the day, you felt a wave of relief, especially since John B, one of your friends, offered to walk you home—well, to Rafe's house. You and John B used to be closer, hanging out multiple times a week, but Rafe’s possessive and jealous nature doesn’t allow you to anymore. Even though you don’t hang out with him now, he still checks in on you from time to time, showing you that he still cares about you, which you appreciate a lot. When you first started dating, John B openly expressed his dislike for Rafe. Despite your numerous attempts to convince him that Rafe genuinely does take great care of you, John B couldn’t be convinced. Their animosity towards one another runs too deep.

The two of you were walking side to side as you approached Rafe's street, wandering by large villas with breathtaking front gardens. John B didn't appear in the least bit afraid or worried and you couldn’t understand why. Everyone, including yourself, was terrified, not daring to go outside unless needed. You eyed him with confusion as you were thinking it over, which he seemed to catch on right away. “What? Do I have something on my face?” he asked, a smile appearing on his face as he continued walking. “Are you not scared, John B?” You asked with curiosity. A small chuckle left his mouth before he shook his head, “Scared? Have you seen him? He wears a silly costume from some dumb movie.” It went silent for a while as you were at a loss for words, wondering how someone could not be afraid of a murderer.

John B soon ended the silence before you could go further into the topic, “Hey, remember when we rehearsed for that play? And we had to dance together and you-“ he laughs while holding his stomach, pausing for a moment to collect himself before continuing, “and you fell and ripped your clothes?” You felt your face heat up and an embarrassed smile crossed your lips before you hit him in the arm. Those were the memories you did not want to relive, embarrassing yourself in front of numerous students and staff members. “Oh stop it! First of all, it wasn’t even that funny and secondly, completely your fault, by the way” You responded, defending yourself but unable to hide your laughter.

“It went like this” John B said before he lifted you up and spun you around, causing you to scream and laugh hysterically. “Stop! I-“ you tried to yell at him but you were laughing too hard, your abdominal muscles hurting. You two giggled as he gently set you back down on the ground before you turned your gaze towards Rafe’s house and your face dropped instantly. Rafe was waiting for you, leaning against the doorframe and standing with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his face as he looked at you both.

You swallowed and gathered yourself quickly before putting on a forced smile and turning to face John B. But John B was staring back at Rafe with an equally as intimidating look on his face, so much so that he stopped noticing you. “Thank you for taking me home. I appreciate it” you said, attempting to defuse the tension before moving slowly in Rafe's direction— but both their eyes didn’t leave each other for a second. Every muscle in your body tightened and the tension in the air was apparent.

You walked up to Rafe, ascending the stairs to his enormous home's front door. “H-hi baby, missed you” you spoke as you drew nearer to him, a whiff of his signature cologne filling your nose. You looked back at John B and saw him heading to his own home, thankfully. Rafe rolled his eyes before he turned around and made his way inside the house. As you nervously followed him and silently shut the door behind you, your brows pinched in concern.

“Baby?” you whispered, trailing after Rafe into the house as you watched his back, his muscles prominent through the tight shirt he was wearing. “Are you angry at me?” You asked in a low voice, worried about the answer. He turned around and came up to you, his large hands cupping your face as he stared directly into your eyes. “I could never be angry at you, sweet girl. You’re my everything. Don’t ever forget that, alright?” he said before you nodded, a wave of relief instantly washing over you. He kissed you on the forehead and you closed your eyes to take in the moment, feeling lucky to have such a caring and sweet boyfriend, you thought. But then the night fell.

“Fuck! No, no, no!” A terrible nightmare about the killer had you breathing heavily when you woke up in the middle of the night. You immediately sat up straight, your chest heaving up and down as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “Rafe?” You called out, desperate for his comfort and affection.

After a short while, there was still no response. Still feeling a little disoriented, your brows knitted as you attempted to sort through your thoughts. But something felt off. You extended your arm around the bed but there was nothing but pillows next to you. This is when you started to feel a little panicked and horrible thoughts pierced your mind like needles jabbing at your skin. “Rafe?!” you called out again in fear, a little louder this time with still no response. You hastily turned on the light, a perplexed frown appearing on your face. The bed was empty. Rafe was usually a very deep sleeper so waking up in the middle of the night wasn’t anything like him. You pushed the blanket off of yourself and stood up, turning off the light again before carefully leaving the room to investigate the situation.

The only sound you could hear as you wandered around his house was the clock ticking as you made your way to the stairs, slowly walking down. His enormous house was terrifying at night, your trembling, sweaty hand gripping the railing tightly. You gasped at hearing heavy footsteps coming from the kitchen downstairs. Tears started forming in your eyes, afraid that anything had happened to Rafe. Scenarios played in your head of the killer entering the house and taking Rafe, torturing him or even worse, murdering him.

When you got to the bottom of the stairs, you took your time making your way to the kitchen while holding your breath. The footsteps became louder now as you approached the person. You were so scared and worried about what you might find behind the wall that tears were streaming down your face. You approached the kitchen cautiously and peeked inside. It took you a few blinks to get used to the darkness, but you exhaled deeply in relief when you saw Rafe in the kitchen, unharmed. Thank god. You reasoned that he must have gotten hungry or wanted to grab a glass of water. You hurried into the kitchen to hug him tight and take him back into bed immediately.

“Rafe? Baby? I saw you weren’t in bed so I-“ you began, feeling relieved to see your boyfriend standing in front of you before your jaw fell as you stood there, unblinking, trying to process what you were seeing. “Rafe…” You gulped and stared in horror, taking in the black and white mask he was holding in addition to the fresh blood on his body. You blinked a few times, thinking you must be still in a dream, but that wasn’t the case— Rafe was still standing in front of you, equally as shocked before he slowly approached you.

“I can explain” He whispered softly, wary of what to say. His expression showed panic as he hurriedly placed the mask down on the table. “Okay, okay, it’s all good. We got this” he mumbled to himself as he rubbed his temples, letting out a frustrating moan. Fear coursed through your body as you stood there motionless and terrified. “Baby, listen, alright? Sometimes-“ he began, pacing around the kitchen at this point, “Sometimes things just gotta happen. We don’t always have a choice, got that? And- and, I just gotta protect you- gotta protect you from all those bad men who wanna take you away.” Your legs felt weak and all kinds of emotions shot through your body. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t do anything. Your breathing quickened as Rafe continued his ramblings. “I just- I just can’t let that happen, alright? You’re my sweet and innocent girl. I can’t let anyone take you from me, never.”

Your trembling hand moved to your mouth and your eyes grew wide when it finally clicked whose blood it was on Rafe. “Rafe? Is that…” you gulped, secretly hoping you were wrong. “Is that John B’s blood?” he turned around quickly and locked eyes with you. “Baby, you know I didn’t have a choice, okay? I had to do it. I need to protect you, protect you from all the evil in this world” He said, trying his best to convince you. You blinked a few times, tears streaming down your face as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. Everything was difficult for you, your head hurting. But you loved Rafe. He was everything to you. He took care of you. He looked after you. In the end, he was the one who was always there for you no matter what. You needed him. You wiped the tears from your face using your shirt's sleeve and glanced back at him, nodding. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and you could see the relief immediately wash over him.

“But…“ Your heart was pounding out of your chest and your mind was racing with a gazillion thoughts. “But what if anyone saw you?” Taking the mask off the table, Rafe covered his head with it. “That’s what this is for” he said, his voice muffled by the mask. You looked him up and down, examining every inch of him, from the ghostface mask to his blood-covered body, the muscles emphasised by his tight outfit. Fuck. You felt something happening inside of you. It wasn't worry or fear— it was something else. Rafe’s masked head tilted as he stared at you, trying to read your expression.

“Wait a minute…” he began, moving closer, “I know that look” Rafe chuckled and he approached you slowly as you took a step back with each step he took forward before your lower back hit the kitchen counter. His face came closer to yours as your breath hitched. He reached over to the kitchen counter beside you, grabbing the knife from next to you and putting it under your chin to lift your head up. “You dirty fucking slut. I see what’s happening here” His face drew nearer, whispering into your ear, “you’re turned on by this.”

“W-What?” you said, trying to sound confused but you couldn’t deny it, you knew he was right. The pointy end of the knife slightly dug into your skin. Instead of feeling scared, you could feel your core aching for him. “Don’t act stupid. God, you’re even more fucked up in that little head of yours than I thought” Rafe chuckled before he took the knife from under your chin and slipped both hands under your ass, hauling you up quickly and tossing you over his shoulder with ease while holding the knife in his hand. You let out a small squeal before he walked you both towards the bedroom.

“Tonight, I’m gonna have to show you who the fuck you belong to.” Rafe stated in a low voice through his mask, causing you to feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. You felt ashamed, as well as a horrible person. Your skin was stained with blood at this point— John B’s blood. But as much as he was your friend, Rafe was your boyfriend, your caregiver, your everything. And you started to think that maybe… maybe he was right. Maybe you need someone to protect you, to keep the bad men away. Maybe Rafe saw something in John B that you didn’t— in the end, you knew Rafe only ever wanted the best for you. You both loved each other forever and always, and apparently, that went as far as killing for you.

Rafe threw you onto the bed after pushing open the door to his bedroom and shutting it behind him. You slightly bounced on the bed before you turned around, resting on your elbows as you looked at him with big, innocent eyes. He stood in front of you, his arms folded and the moonlight seeping through the cracks of the blinds, illuminating your boyfriend’s menacing demeanour— the blood-stained black and white mask, a knife gripped in his right hand, and the slightly torn black outfit, indicating that John B tried to fight for his life. The only features of your boyfriend’s face visible were his blue eyes, gazing directly at you.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and listen to me, alright?” he said, with a harsh and intimidating tone. You nodded as you swallowed, anticipation raging through your body. He slightly tilted his masked head, thinking about what he was going do with you till an idea struck. He approached you slowly, footsteps heavy due to his boots. His right hand played with the knife, showing that he had plans with it. He leaned over you when he was close enough, then slid the knife under your shirt. Gazing at him with wide eyes, you gasped as he quickly tore apart your clothes, leaving you only in your bra and underwear.

“Prettiest fucking girl I have ever seen. Fuck, I am so lucky.” He now placed the knife under the straps of your bra and sliced it open, then he did the same to your underwear and tossed it aside. You let out a small whine, and he turned to face you immediately. “That… that was my favourite set” You sulked as you gazed at the shredded lingerie set lying on the floor. Rafe simply chuckled before he gripped your face forcefully, turning you to look at him. “Don’t be fucking dumb, you know I can buy you every single lingerie set that you want in the whole fucking world.”

Before you could say anything else, he grabbed your body and turned you around, placing you on your hands and knees with your ass facing him. You were soaking at this point, your wetness dripping onto the mattress. You suddenly felt the cold knife against your core, gathering the wetness as you shivered and tried to remain motionless. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dripping. You could’ve just told me you had some fucked up kink for killers, you know. Would’ve made it a lot easier for me” Rafe taunted, and you just knew he was smirking under that mask.

“Grip the sheets baby, maybe even bite them if you need to. Dunno how high your pain tolerance is.” he said, causing you to worry for a moment as your hands clutched the sheets under you. “But I guess we’re about to find out.” He slapped your ass swiftly before you felt the sharp knife against the skin of your ass, digging into the flesh. Your eyes closed and your teeth clenched together as you hissed at the sensation.

“R… A…” he began, as he carved his name into your skin. “It- it hurts” you cried out as you gripped the sheets. “Nuh-uh, not done yet. F…” he continued, unaffected by your whines and pleads. “E…” When he was done, he stood back to admire his work of art. “All done. Looks pretty good if I say so myself.” he said with a satisfied tone. Your eyes began to well up with tears as a result of the stinging in your skin. “All fucking mine.” He said before throwing the knife on the ground.

 “On your knees in front of me. Now” he ordered, and you didn’t waste a second before you were sitting on your knees on the ground, gazing up at him through your eyelashes. His gloved hand brushed over your face before gripping your chin, “You are nothing but my dirty whore. Got that? My property. And I will kill anyone that gets in the way.” You nodded, feeling desperate for him. He undressed himself, leaving him completely naked except for the mask on his face. You observed him— the muscles on his toned body, the blood splatters, his hard cock leaking precum. You needed him.

“Make yourself useful for once” he growled, before slapping your cheek and causing you to hiss. “Suck.” was all he said as he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you towards him. You started by swirling your tongue over the tip and around the length of his shaft, causing him to throw his head back and grunt. He became impatient quickly, as he pushed your head further down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. “Juuust like that, princess, doing so good for me.”You were momentarily taken aback by his sweet words, but you weren’t unfamiliar with his mood swings. You knew what to do to get him to praise you— being a good girl and doing what he says, at all times. You never wanted to disagree with Rafe or reject him. You'd go to any lengths for him.

“Holy fuck” he growled as you continued bobbing your head, saliva running down your face. He had a strong grip on your hair as he fucked your face while you held on to his thighs. He let out a grunt before shoving you off him right before he could cum, sending you stumbling backwards a little. He gestured with his head for you to get back on the bed as he grabbed the knife from the ground. You hurriedly returned to the bed and waited for him on your hands and knees before he positioned himself behind you. He then slapped your ass, making you cry out as the cuts from earlier made it sting even more.

“Aww, does that hurt, princess?” he asked, running a hand over the spot he had just slapped as you nodded, trying to hold back the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes. “But my girl can handle that, right?” he said as he teased your core with his fingers. “My girl can handle anything, as long as she got me.” he unexpectedly slipped a finger into you, causing you to moan out at the feeling. He moved in and out before adding another one, pushing his fingers knuckles deep into you. You arched your back as he curled his fingers and moved them against your g-sport skilfully. Rafe was amazing at fingering, making you squirt and cum countless times. But he quickly pulled out before you could even feel your release nearing, causing you to whine. “I know baby, I know. But I need you to cum around my cock, alright?”

He grabbed your hips and positioned himself at your entrance before he pushed into you in one quick thrust without any warning. You gasped as he buried himself into you balls deep. “Always so fucking tight. Fuuuck” Rafe groaned as he watched his cock disappear into your body. He wasted no time by thrusting in and out of you right away as he stretched you out completely. You felt a hint of pain but it was soon overpowered by pleasure. He set a steady and rough rhythm, massaging your walls perfectly.

“You’re gonna be mine forever, got that? No one will ever get to touch you.” he said as he gripped a handful of your hair and yanked your head towards him. He took the knife from beside him, but you were too cock-drunk to even notice it while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You unexpectedly felt the icy blade against your throat, causing you to gasp. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” he whispered into your ear, his voice muffled because of the mask as he continued his brutal thrusts along with the sharp knife against your throat. You felt your release building as your wetness trickled down the sides of your thigh. His cock felt so deep inside of you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

“Gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you, sweet girl, you’re gonna be leaking my cum for days.” he growled with one hand firmly gripping your hip and the other holding the knife. “Even better if a baby starts growing in that pretty body of yours, so I can fully claim you as mine.” His words made you even more aroused and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release. “I’m c-close” was all you could manage to say as you heard him groan from under the mask.

“Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like the dirty slut you are” his words were enough to push you over the edge as your orgasm washed over you, causing you to see stars and your body to shake. You cried out with your mouth agape as you clenched around his cock. “Good fucking girl”

You could feel his hips stagger and lose rhythm, knowing he was close as well. One last powerful thrust and you could feel his warm cum painting your walls, milking every last drop of his seed inside of you. The grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your skin as he rode out his high. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he cursed while panting. You collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You attempted to get up but rafe quickly stopped you, gazing at you through the mask.

“Oh, we’re not done yet.” he chuckled, before flipping you onto your back and caging you between his arms, “Round two, princess.”

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#❥ ari’s works #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #outer banks smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #ghostface #ghostface!rafe #ghostface!rafe cameron #ghostface rafe cameron #outer banks fic

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Cinnamon Girls

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Fem!OC)

Summary: Eddie never thought his nightly routine would include sneaking into a catholic collage to see his two girlfriends, but never say never, right? Wk:4.5k

Warnings: Established poly relationship, M/F/F threesome, spanking, choking, Dom!Eddie, Sub!Reader, Switch!OC, Pet names(Eddie has nicknames for both R & OC that I’ll explain in a different part), spint kink, scissoring, gum sharing?, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex. I think that’s it? Lmk if I missed any. 18+MDNI

A/N: Okay this idea came to me the other night and I was like possessed by it. I’m kind of obsessed with these three now and I’ve actually come up with other lore about them. I might expand on this lil AU if anyone’s interested. Thank you to my lovely betas @babygorewhore @bimbobaggins69 & @reidsbtch🧸🤍 Moodboard.

Eddie’s ringed fingers reach for the volume knob on the radio, turning it almost all the way down as he rounds the corner to his destination. He turns off the headlights as he slowly pulls his van close to the curb before cutting the engine. He always makes sure to be as quiet as possible, even if he is parked half a block down the road from the school itself. He pulls down the drivers side mirror, fluffing his unruly hair. He pops a piece of cinnamon gum into his mouth and exits his van, making sure not to slam the door like he tends to have a habit of doing.

He looks both ways, checking for bystanders. He was pretty sure there wouldn’t be anyone out on the street at 2AM, especially with the students strict curfew, but he always liked to be sure. If he got caught, he would be so fucked. He shoves the chain on his jeans in his pocket before hiking his leg up on the fence, vaulting himself as quietly as possible up and over onto the other side. He lands with a quiet thud, again checking his surroundings to make sure he was alone.

He walks around the edges of the campus, making sure to keep to the shadows and not set off any automatic lights. Once he reaches the building he’s come to know well he grabs a few small pebbles from the gravel beneath his feet. He tosses one up at the window he’s found himself crawling into most nights lately, and waits.

It only took a few seconds before he saw two heads popping into view, bright smiles on their faces. His heart rate immediately picks up, his stomach erupts with butterflies, and his cock slightly stirs in his pants at the prospect of what the night was going to bring.

Eddie quickly climbs up the conveniently placed fire exit ladder and the window is already pushed open for him when he reaches it. His long ripped jean clad legs enter the room and his boot covered feet hit the ground with a gentle thud one by one.

“My girls.” He smiles wide, taking the sides of your faces in each of his hands. “I missed you.”

“Eddieee.” You nuzzle your face into his palm, practically purring like a kitten. Looking up at him through your lashes with those big sweet eyes that drive him insane. “I missed you.”

“Hey nerd boy.” Mina chuckles, turning her face to nip at his fingers. “We saw you less than 24 hours ago.”

“So you didn’t miss me, pretty girl?” Eddie mock pouts, his thumb running along your girlfriend’s plump bottom lip.

“I didn’t say that, did I?” She rolls her eyes, taking his digit into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it, pulling a groan from his chest.

“Don’t fall for her tough girl act Eds, you should’ve heard her when I was underneath her skirt between classes earlier… ‘fuck baby, you’re so good, I wish I was watching Eddie fuck you from behind right now’ she totally missed you.”

“Hey!” She pulls off Eddie’s thumb with a pop, a string of spit still connected to her lips. “It’s not fair to use what I say when you’re eating me out like it’s the last chance you’ll ever get against me, brat!”

“That’s okay she pretty much lost me at ‘when I was underneath her skirt between classes earlier’… you two are going to fucking kill me, I swear.” Eddie groans, throwing his head back while he runs his hands down his face. The image of you and your girlfriend sneaking off in your little catholic school uniforms to get each other off driving both him and his cock insane.

“Is that doing it for you, Eddie? Thinking about us fucking when you’re not here? Because we do… All. The. Time. Before class, between class, after… we were just messing around before you got here actually…” The look on your face is innocent while the words leaving your mouth are anything but and Eddie swears every single time he comes here his dick gets harder than he ever thought possible.

“We tried to wait for you, but we just got so worked up thinking about you coming over… we couldn’t help ourselves.” Mina reaches up to run her long pointed black nails down his cheek and he grabs onto her wrist, stopping her movements.

“So you admit it then, you missed me? You can deny it if you want, but I bet the minute I get my hands on that pussy it’ll be dripping for me…” He smirks at her, his ember orbs boring into her mossy ones as his lips trail open mouth kisses down her wrist. “Show me…”

“Huh? Show you what?” Her eyes are wide, her body language much more relaxed than it had been in the last few minutes.

“You already getting all dumb on me, baby? All I did was put my lips on you…” Eddie’s large ringed hand grips her jaw, shaking her head from side to side. “Get on the bed and show me what you were doing with our girl before I got here.”

A whimper leaves her lips and it makes you clench around nothing. You always love watching them together. Mina was the more dominant of the two of you, often taking control in and out of the bedroom. So watching the way she submits so easily to Eddie makes you melt. They were both so fucking hot.

He releases her wrist and steps back, leaning against the desk near the wall. He crosses his feet at the ankles and looks at you both expectantly. His eyes finally take the time to drink you both in. If he hadn’t been so distracted by your dirty words and flirty banter what you were doing before he got here probably would’ve been obvious.

You were in nothing but a little pink cami that had a bunny printed on the front, your little white lace panties were adorned with a pink bow and you even had on fucking ruffle socks. You were the epitome of a little religious girl gone bad. Mina on the other hand was very much your opposite. Her black cut off tank top had a little skull and crossbones printed on it, her red g-string sat high on her hips, her feet were bare and the moonlight reflected off her black polished toes. She was the perfect example of what happens when religious girls rebel. Your lips were kiss swollen and her long dark hair looked like you’d been pulling at it. God, Eddie was the luckiest bastard to ever walk the earth.

He watches with his bottom lip secured between his teeth as she approaches you, one hand resting on your hip while the other grabs onto the hair at the nape of your neck. She uses her grip to pull your face to hers, kissing you with fever. Your hands snake around her to grab handfuls of her ass and she moans into your mouth.

“Wanna give Eddie a show, baby girl?” She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck ya.” You pull back from her with a glint in your eyes and a smirk on your lips. Those mischievous eyes meet Eddie’s as you pull your girlfriend by the hand towards your bed. She sits against the headboard with her legs spread and you climb on top of her. You position your legs so your hips are tilted to the side, your barely clothed core sat directly on top of hers. You roll your hips causing both of you to moan at the feeling.

Her hands grip onto your ass to help you move against her while her hips grind up to meet your thrusts. You take her face in your hands and connect your lips again, your tongue darting out across her bottom lip, silently requesting access. She grants it to you immediately, intertwining her tongue with your own while she moans into your mouth.

Eddie licks his lips at the sight, the way your girlfriend’s long nails dig into the flesh of your ass, the way your tits are pressed up against each other while you grind together. His cock is so hard it feels like it’s going to pop the button on his jeans, he hastily reaches for his belt, clumsily undoing it. Then he moves onto his button and zipper, fumbling slightly, not wanting to take his eyes off the two of you. His cock finally springs free and hits his stomach, a drop of precum dripping onto his dark faded band tee. He spits in his palm before taking his cock in his hand, stroking it roughly. A moan rips through him at the feeling of finally being touched, even if it’s his own.

“Mmm look at Eddie baby…” Your head is turned towards him now as your eyes drink him in hungrily. Mina’s face leaves the crook of your neck to follow your gaze and the sight combined with just the right roll of your hips makes her whimper.

“Fuck, you like what you see, nerd boy?” She pushes your tank top up over your tits and takes them in her soft hands without breaking eye contact with him. Your hips pick up speed and you’re both so wet now that your combined juices are making the fabric of your panties stick together with each roll of your hips.

“You know I do, pretty girl.” He smirks right back, his hand still stroking his thick cock while his eyes travel over both your bodies. Her tongue licks around your areola before she takes your nipple in her mouth, causing you to gasp.

“I want more.” You whimper. She feels so good against you, but it’s not quite enough. You need to feel her. You lift your hips just enough to use your hands to push both of your panties to the side before lowering yourself back down onto her warm wet cunt. Her clit bumps against yours and you’re both so wet you practically glide against her. “Fuck, yes.”

Eddie approaches the side of the bed, taking both of your jaws in his hands, forcing you both to look up at him. “Goddamn, you guys are so fucking sexy, can you cum like that for me? If you’re good girls and make each other cum I’ll give you my cock.”

His words spur you on, your hands coming to rest on Mina’s shoulders for leverage as you grind your wet pussy against hers. She leans forward to take your nipple into her mouth, her free hand toying with your other one.

“Oh fuuuck, yes. You’re so wet baby, you feel so good. I’m gonna cum.” You press yourself down on her hard, moving your hips in a circular motion that has her clit gliding deliciously through your wet folds. Her teeth sink into the meat of your tit, sending you over the edge. Her hands grab onto your hips, guiding you against her as your high crashes over you.

“Mmm that’s it, good girl, cum for us.” She pulls off of you so she can watch your face as you fall apart on top of her.

“Your turn.” You’re still panting as you come down from your orgasm but you use one hand to shove her shirt up over her tits, your tongue immediately flicking out to lick across her perky peaked nipples. Your other hand slides between your bodies, finding her clit with ease. You grind your palm against her sensitive bud while your tongue and lips continue their assault on her nipples.

“Fuuuuuck.” You hear Eddie groan above you and your eyes snap his direction, immediately meeting his lust filled ones. His tongue darts out across his bottom lip and you can’t see from how you’re angled but the way he’s shaking you can tell he’s jerking himself off again. You can’t wait to get your hands and mouth on every inch of him too.

“Cum for me baby, I wanna hear those pretty sounds.” You insert your middle and pointer finger inside her while your palm continues its ministrations on her clit.

“Oh my fucking god, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me - I’m gonna fucking cum!” Her sharp nails dig into your ass and a pornographic moan rips through her as she cums around your fingers. You fuck her through it, leaving open mouth kisses all across her chest.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, shit.” Eddie’s voice breaks you from your Mina induced trance and you whip your head towards him. He’s shirtless now, his jeans still hanging low on his hips, his hard leaking cock on full display.

“Mmm does that mean we earned our reward? You look damn right edible, Mr. Munson.” You smirk up at him, practically salivating at the sight of the bead of precum dripping from his slit. Eddie groans, something about you calling him that makes his cock twitch.

“Yeah, I think you earned it, Bunny. Why don’t you get over here and suck it?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You climb off Mina, crawling towards him so you can sit in front of him on your knees. She follows suit, sitting close enough to you that your bare thighs touch. Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking cum just looking at you both on your knees for him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Take your shirts off and stick out your tongues.” You turn towards your girlfriend, grabbing the hem of her already hiked up tank top and pulling it over her head. She does the same for you and then you both turn back towards him, sticking your tongues out just like he asked. “God fucking damn, have I ever told you I’m the luckiest man to ever live? Look at my beautiful girls, waiting for me to use their little throats.”

He slaps his cock against your tongue, that bead of precum you’d been eyeing dripping into your mouth just like you wanted. He glides his tip along your tongue a few times before turning to do the same to Mina. His large ringed hands come around both your heads, gripping onto the hair at the nape of your necks.

“Keep your tongues out.” He leans over you to spit in your mouth before using the grip he has on your hair to pull your face to his cock. You take the hint, taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. You bob your head up and down while he gives Mina the same treatment above you, pulling her head down next to yours once he's done. You feel her lips traveling up your shoulder to your jaw, she leaves wet kisses across your cheek until she reaches your mouth. Her tongue darts out to lick the part of Eddie’s shaft that isn’t down your throat, curling around it.

“Holy fuuuucking shit.” Eddie groans, he uses the grip on your hair to pull both of your heads back again, looking down at you with lust filled eyes. “Be good girls for me and make out on my cock.”

Mina smirks up at him before leaning forward to lick along the side of his length, you follow her lead, running your tongue up the opposite side. You both lick all around his cock like it’s a lollipop, your tongues occasionally touching and intertwining around it. She takes his tip in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before taking him fully down her throat with a gag. You lean down so you can kitten lick across his balls, tasting the musky saltiness that is Eddie. You suck one of them into your mouth, your tongue massaging around the soft skin before pulling off and giving the other one the same treatment.

“Shit shit shit!!!” He pulls you both off of him with a gasp. “You gotta stop or I’m gonna fucking blow my load I swear you two are little succubi.”

“Mmm… you just taste so good, we want your human essence.” You giggle up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “You know Eds… I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet.” You pout.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Bunny, I guess I got carried away, huh? Come here.” He grabs your face in his hands, leaning down to place a kiss that was much more gentle than you were expecting on your lips. He kisses you a few times before turning to Mina and attempting to give her the same treatment. But you watch as she grabs onto his hair and tugs, pulling his face hard against her own. Her tongue licks across his lips and his darts out to meet hers. She sucks his tongue into her mouth, bringing the cinnamon gum he was chewing with her.

“You’re sweet and all, nerd boy. But I’m still really fucking horny and I believe you promised us your cock? I’d like to cash in on that now.” She bites down on his bottom lip before pulling away with a smirk, popping his gum between her teeth.

“Yeah? You want my cock? Hands and knees, both of you. I wanna try something.”

Mina pulls her thong down her legs before flipping over on her hands and knees with her back arched, her ass in the air and on full display. You do the same, wiggling your ass back and forth as you look at Eddie over your shoulder. You watch with hungry eyes as he discards his jeans. His ring adorned hand comes down on your asscheek causing you to jolt forward with a yelp.

“Look at these perfect fucking assess, and they’re all mine…”

He pumps his cock a few times before running it through your slick folds, dipping the tip inside of your entrance before slapping it against your clit.

“Eddieeee…” you whine and wiggle your ass again, pushing back against him.

“Aww is a little Bunny feeling greedy?” You can hear the dumb smirk in his voice but you don’t have time to talk back before he’s shoving himself balls deep inside of you, knocking the air from your lungs. The stretch is so good, every single time. No matter how many times he fucks you it’s like he’s filling you up just right.

He starts fucking into you rough and fast, his grip on your hip is so tight that you hope the ring indents that had started to fade from last time are even darker than before. His free hand comes down hard on Mina’s asscheeks in succession before he’s soothing it with his palm and running his thick fingers through her dripping slit. He inserts two fingers inside her and starts to fuck her with them in tandem with the thrusts of his cock inside you.

“Fuck bunny, you’re so wet, this little pussy is squeezing me so tight.” The hand on your hip finds your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure while he continues to bury himself deep inside you.

“Baby, gimme a kiss.” Mina’s voice almost sounds like it’s underwater with how close you are to cumming but you turn your face towards her. She grabs your jaw in one of her hands and smashes your lips together in a desperate moan filled kiss. Her tongue slips between your lips, exploring every inch, the gum she had just taken from Eddie’s mouth slips into your own and it still somehow tastes cinnamony sweet.

“I’m gonna c - cum, I’m gonna cum.” Your words are slurred against her lips, Eddie hits that perfect spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Yeah baby? You gonna cum? Mi, why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me too?” Eddie continues his assault on your g-spot while his skilled fingers curl just right inside your shared girlfriend's cunt. It only takes a few more pumps of his cock to send you over the edge, Mina tumbling over her own right after you.

Eddie fucks you both through your highs before pulling his fingers away, he uses his other hand to grip onto your hair and pull your back flush against his chest.

“Suck.” He brings the slick covered digits to your mouth and you greedily take them in, tasting your girlfriend’s sweet nectar. “Good girl.”

He releases his grip on your hair and you fall forward, catching yourself on your hands at the last minute. You go to turn around but he grips your hips, keeping you in place.

“Stay. I didn’t say you could move, did I?” He smacks your ass before turning to Mina, roughly gripping her hips. “You want my cock now, kitty? I think you’ve earned it.”

“Just fuck me already, Munson.” Normally Eddie would take the time to tease her for her attitude, make her beg a little, but he’s so fucking hard he needs to be inside of her, right now. He grabs onto his cock, lining it up with her puffy lips, he pushes himself all the way inside of her in one thrust, throwing his head back when she clenches around him.

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” He leans over her so his lips brush against the shell of her ear, trailing a few kisses down her throat. He stops at the juncture of her throat, sinking his teeth down onto it while he starts to fuck into her roughly.

“Yeah, but you fucking love it.” Her chuckle turns into a strangled moan when he wraps a hand around her throat, his cock pounding into her so deep she can feel him hitting her cervix.

You look over at them and you can’t help but moan at the sight. Eddie’s head is thrown back, revealing the expanse of his thick throat, a layer of sweat covers his inked chest and he’s growling almost animalistically. Mina’s face is slightly red from the way she’s being choked, a bit of drool is dripping from the corner of her mouth and her tits are bouncing deliciously. You want to lean down and suck them, and lick the drool off her chin but you also want to be a good girl and for Eddie so you decide to stay put.

And damn does it pay off, because one second he’s pounding into your girlfriend like his life depends on it and next thing you know he’s pulling out of her and thrusting deep inside you. He’s fucking you as hard as he was fucking her, picking up the pace he left off on. He thrusts into you a few more times before he’s pulling out and plunging back into Mina. He continues like this for a bit, fucking deeply into one of you before switching off and giving the other the same treatment. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and slapping skin, and in the back of your mind you’re thankful that the girl next door moved out last week.

“My good fucking girls, letting me use your little holes like this, you’re so fucking good for me. Fuck!” Eddie pumps his into your girlfriend deep and hard, before pulling out and plunging into your wet, waiting heat. “Mi, go get in front of Bunny so I can watch her eat that pretty little pussy from the back while I fill her up with my cum.”

She’s past the point of giving him shit, so fucked out that she will do anything he asks without question. She crawls so she’s positioned on her hands and knees in front of you and your grab onto her asscheeks, spreading them apart.

“Looks so tasty…” You spread her open a few more times, watching her clench around nothing, then you lean forward and plunge your tongue as far as it can go inside of her. You fuck into her with your tongue before licking down to her clit, sucking it into your mouth.

Eddie is about to lose it, your pussy is clenching him so tight and your ass is bouncing deliciously against his hips. The sounds and the sight of you devouring your girlfriend is enhancing his pleasure by tenfold. He reaches his hand around you to rub circles on your clit, angling his hips the way he knows you love it.“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last much longer… need you to cum for me.”

You bring two of your fingers to Mina’s entrance, pushing them inside her and curling them upwards. She pushes back against you, her pussy clenches around your fingers and you can tell she’s close too.

“Shit, I’mgonnafuckingcum.” She whimpers.

“Cum for us kitty, cum on our girl's face. I’m gonna cum too - fuckingshit.” Eddie’s thrusts get sloppy but he’s still fucking you so good, the speed of his fingers picks up on your clit and you feel his cum start to spill inside you. Mina’s pussy is like a vice grip on your fingers and the moans she’s letting out are like music to your ears. It’s all so hot and it has your own orgasm wracking through your body.

You’re all panting as you pull apart from each other, throwing yourselves down on the bed with Eddie in the middle. You both rest your heads on his shoulders, your legs thrown over each of his thighs. You and Mina absentmindedly play with each others fingers that rest on Eddie’s chest.

“I can’t fucking wait until you guys get out of here.” Eddie sighs.

“Soon baby, just one more month and this catholic collage nightmare will be over.” Your girlfriend places a gentle kiss on his peck, resting her chin there so she can look up at him.

“Then our dads will finally get off our asses and release our trust funds to us. And we can buy a nice house, and get you studio time.” You lean up to kiss his jaw, mimicking Mina’s position so you can look at his beautiful face too.

“Yeah? You guys are my certified sugar mama’s I swear.” Eddie chuckles, bringing his hands up so he can cup both of your jaws. He rubs his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks and looks into both of your eyes, placing a gentle kiss on each of your lips. He seriously was the luckiest bastard to ever live.

#eddie munson x reader #Dolly writes #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie Munson one shot #eddie munson x fem!oc #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

[missmugiwara]

You Said To Go All Out

Summary: afab!reader x Gojo // What happens when Satoru pretends to be your boyfriend for Christmas Eve and meets your family? Need any more be said? Warning: 18+, suggestive, fluff, crack fic?, Gojo being insufferable, Gojo being a daddy, Gojo fighting toxic masculinity, slight mention of sex and pregnancy, second-hand embarrassment Note: I'm such a ho ho ho for Satoru.

✦ Word count is 4.5k. ✦

"So tell me what's off the table."

"Nothing. I want you to go all out."

You reached forward to push the doorbell. The muted chime let you know it indeed worked. Seemed like your father fixed it since the last time you visited. You cleared your throat and shuffled under your coat to appear more presentable. There was a brief period of silence as you and Satoru Gojo stood still, your hot breaths omitting little clouds into the cold winter air. A second more and Gojo let out a snicker.

"Are you serious?"

"I am. Go crazy! Give 'em that Gojo charm."

The tall man next to you tipped his head back and let out a laugh. He seemed very amused. Did you realize the effect of your words though? Maybe you were just too hyper focused to think rationally, but you did just basically give Satoru Gojo permission to be unhinged.

Something he was quite good at.

So what was the permission for? Simply put, you were sick of visiting your parents for the holidays because every damn time they asked if you had a special someone in your life yet. Of course, as the eldest of the siblings, the extra added pressure was on. Pressure that was unwarranted and unneeded. You were not sure if you could go through it again without screaming. So when Gojo saw you deep in thought instead of paying attention to your students at Jujutsu High, he asked what the matter was. As soon as your eyes laid upon him, you broke out into a smile. Eagerly, you asked if he could pretend to be your boyfriend for dinner on Christmas Eve.

Honestly, you weren't sure what he would say. Thoughts of being humiliated had not even crossed your mind - that is until he just stared at you in thought with a wicked smirk pulling the corners of his mouth upward. That look made you second guess everything.

"Why should I help you out anyway?"

"Satoru, please! I'll do anything you want!"

Your breath caught in your lungs as soon as those words left your mouth. Why did you say that? Ugh, so desperate. His teasing tone made your face flush with heat. He hummed as he leaned in, peering at you somehow through that blindfold of his.

"Aaaanything I want?"

With a nervous smile, you stared at his gorgeous pink lips and then his eyes (or at least you thought you were making eye contact). No time to rethink this. Especially with Satoru tyring to outdo your confidence right then and there. You would not let him break you. Besides, couldn't he just agree? He was an old friend anyway! This was not even the craziest thing you two had done before.

"Yes!"

"Okay. I'll pick you up at three."

He pulled back with a smile, shoving his hands in his pockets and whistling a tune. Before he closed the classroom door, he chuckled and gave you one more glance.

"Oh, this will be so good."

Fast forward to Christmas Eve. There you two were, dressed to impress and standing at your parents' door. It had been a moment, and still no one answered, so you pushed the doorbell again.

Gojo continued to press you.

"So hand holding?"

"Yup."

"Kisses?"

"Only on the cheek!"

"Can I propose?"

"Yeah, sure. I don't care - wait. You have a ring on you?"

When you whipped your head to face him, he just grinned and started cackling.

"I might." he purred, then explained the one he had was a family heirloom passed down in the Gojo clan. Naturally, you grabbed his arm and shook your head - telling him he could not just use such an important and sentimental item for this little, white lie. However, maybe your parents would actually believe a marriage proposal. You had known Gojo since you were kids, but you weren't sure if your parents would remember him that well. Would it look crazy?

"How about no proposal? That might be too much. Otherwise, just throw everything you've got into this, okay? You can talk about getting married, job stuff, buying a house, whatever."

"Can I talk about sex?"

"Absolutely not!"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you pouted at him. He gave an innocent smile in turn.

"Alright, I'll behave… for now."

He turned toward you, letting his dark sunglasses slip from his nose as he gave a little eyebrow waggle. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop from smiling because you needed to be firm with him. Not laugh and indulge him. It was no good as you pulled your scarf up to cover your smirk - something he did notice.

"You dog."

"That the best you got? I've been called worse."

A small squeak escaped your throat when Gojo's hand lightly tapped your ass.

"Satoru!"

"You said to go all out."

He smirked again. You opened your mouth, about to scold him, when all of a sudden the door flung open. Your mother squealed in delight and clasped her hands together upon seeing her beloved eldest child with their boyfriend. She profusely apologized for the wait, babbling on and on about how excited she was to see everyone, how she never saw you ever because you were always off doing jujutsu work, and oh - to see Gojo-san again after so many long years was a nice treat.

"Oh, my! Look at how tall you are! You are just a gorgeous creature!"

"Mooooom! Don't!" you stomped your foot on the ground, but you were clearly ignored as your mother reached out to grab Gojo by the arm. He snickered at how embarrassed you were and turned back to your mother.

"Oh, stop, please! I can't take this!" he smirked with a facetious tone which only made your mother howl in laughter.

"And look at this! Such a gentleman! He even brought my baby flowers!"

"Oh no, the bouquet is for you, ma'am." he handed over the stunning arrangement of red and white roses, adorned with a few pinecones and some candy canes mixed inbetween them all, tied together with a golden ribbon.

"Thank you for inviting me into your home. And, oh - I didn't know good looks ran in the family."

In the middle of hanging your coat and then Gojo's, your eyes widened at that comment. Gojo was definitely overdoing it and then some! After dear old Mom grabbed the flowers, she just started laughing and muttering oh my, oh my over and over. Well, at least Gojo had stolen her heart. This could all actually be believable. She turned her back for one second to let you two finish settling in, and you slapped Gojo on the arm as he was about to walk off. Stop it, you mouthed. He froze. Then, after eyeing you up, he gave you a push in turn as you nearly toppled over since you were removing your shoes and were a bit off balance. A cheap shot. Surely, he forgot how much stronger he was because you landed into the wall silently, nearly sliding down it (you didn't want your mother to see, so you tried so hard to be mute). Gojo twitched at you form clutching at the wall and swiftly hooked his arm beneath yours to steady you as he uttered a bunch of apologies.

Your eyes met, and you growled at him. The only thing you got in turn was another smirk and a stifled laugh. So you slapped him again, this time on the chest. He squinted his eyes. And he lightly slapped your arm in turn. Then you did it again. Then he did it again. Then arms started flailing everywhere. Then it turned into some stupid little slap fight straight out of a sitcom. When your mother called, you both immediately froze. She ushered you two into the dining room and in synch, you and Gojo merrily chased after her amidst the fluster.

When finally in the dining room, you gave hugs to your two sisters - one home from college and the other home from the Kyoto Jujutsu school (a teacher like yourself) - and greeted your dad sitting grumpily at the head of the table. You introduced Satoru as your boyfriend, and of course your sisters were immediately won over at how cute and tall he was. After that settled down, you placed presents under the Christmas tree and sat next to your beloved Satoru at the opposite head of the table. Among all the small chat, your mother came bustling in with an apron tied around her waist.

She frowned at Satoru, "Oh, honey, we're indoors. Take off your glasses!"

"No!" you slammed your hands on the table, and everyone turned to you with perplexed expressions. Realizing you were making an idiot of yourself, you stuttered. Your family was not super versed in jujustu, save for you and one sister, but you didn't want to explain how Satoru… um, functioned.

"Uh… um, he has… sensitive eyes!"

Satoru chuckled, extending out a hand to lay atop yours. He hummed in amusement as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

"I have excellent eyes." he drawled out, giving a small wink as you pouted.

"Don't be so modest, sweetheart." he purred, gripping the edge of his glasses between his thumb and index finger, "Besides, I don't want to be rude."

With a charming smile, Satoru removed his glasses. They brushed ever so lightly against his bangs, the white hair perfectly rolling off them. He opened his blue eyes, batting his snowy-white lashes before his gaze turned lidded. Okay, damn - but why did he have to make it so attractive? Your sisters sat at the edge of their seats, gasping as their faces broke out into wide smiles and for some reason, they grabbed onto each other and screamed. You slapped a hand over your forehead, groaning into the sky.

"Oh, my!" your mother exclaimed, placing a hand against her flushed cheek, "Gorgeous! Just gorgeous!"

Oh, god, why?

What an attention whore. Satoru knew he was good-looking, and he could absolutely back it up. If you thought about it, well… yeah, Satoru was fine as hell! Wait, that was beside the point! He was completely milking everyone there. Through all the cries, you all turned your heads at the sound of your father scoffing loudly and slamming a hand on the dinner table.

"Ain't no way my kid's marrying some sissy pretty boy!"

"Dad!"

You shrieked, face on fire from absolute embarrassment. Your sisters followed suit. He was the one bringing up marriage first? In a panic, you turned toward Satoru - babbling out apology after apology as you gripped his arm protectively. Oh, gosh you were not prepared for this rudeness, and you had not anticipated that your family might mouth off to Satoru. Dear old Dad was kind of rough around the edges, but no one could have predicted this. Satoru just blinked and calmly cocked his head to the side, seeming unphased.

As ironic as it sounded, thank goodness Satoru Gojo had an ego.

"Sir, I can assure you - "

"Alright, pretty boy. Get over here."

You all blinked as your dad firmly slapped his napkin on the table and rose from his seat. He walked over to the living room and pushed the coffee table out of the way.

"Let's have a little wrestle! Come on, let's see what you got!"

No.

No no no no no.

Except for Satoru who was amused, you all looked upon your father in dismay. Your mother ran into the room when she heard this crazy idea, and your sisters jumped up from their seats to urge everybody to sit down. This was the epitome of the embarrassing dad trope, but to actually ask Satoru Gojo to a spar on Christmas Eve? No, this had to be stopped!

"Bet he's never been in a real scuffle! Look at the car he rolled up in. I bet he's had everything handed to him his entire life!"

It surely went without saying that Satoru had definitely been in some fights and had definitely been through some things, but now was not the time to get into those details. It appeared the situation was only getting worse.

"This is ridiculous! We want Gojo-san to come back next year! Not scare him away!"

"Oh no, Dad, please stop this!"

"Not now, honey! Daddy's about to get to work!"

He took a fighting stance. It was insanely ridiculous. This could not get any worse, but you were wrong. So so so very wrong. Satoru chuckled as he fluidly rose from his chair, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Satoru, I - I'm so sorry! Please don't do this!"

A reassuring pat on your head silenced you.

"Now, now. It's fine. Daddy's about to get to work… and your old man is joining too."

Satoru winked. For a split second, you froze under his heated touch when his hand slid down your cheek and tucked underneath your chin, giving your head a gentle shake before he pulled away. A few seconds passed to register what Satoru had just said. Your face erupted into what felt like fire at the notion that Satoru just called himself daddy. At least he whispered it so only you could hear.

"Don't hold back on me just because I'm no spring chicken, pretty boy!"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." Satoru chided, giving a crack of his knuckles.

He paused.

"But I do need my good luck kiss from my sweetheart first."

Instantly, your eyes widened in shock, and your face went aflush with heat. "No, I don't think that's necessary… sweetheart!"

With crossed arms, you emphasized the cute petname as a warning. Poor you. That would never actually be enough to stop Satoru.

"You don't have to be shy, my love!" he stepped over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You were beyond frazzled. Now he was saying my love? Oh, he was really too much. His arms only tightened when you squirmed, and he pulled you closer. His lips puckered, and your eyes darted from them to his closed eyes to your family members staring at you weirdly for reluctantly not kissing him back. This display went on for a bit longer until you uttered under your breath.

"I said on the cheek!"

"Come on, they're watching. It's just a little peck!"

His arms gave a light squeeze.

"I could end this here and now and go home."

Right. Satoru really had no obligation to keep doing this favor, but did it have to be on his terms? Since the moment you stepped foot at the door, it was obvious he was going to torment you and behave in the most outlandish of ways. When you sharply took in a breath, you knew you had lost. He smirked. Nervously, your arms trembled as you struggled to lift your hands to his face. Quickly, you grabbed his cheeks and just pressed your mouth to his for not even a milisecond and pulled away. Satoru's arms let go of you, his eyelids drooping in a lusty manner. He smirked at the cute pout you gave him, eyebrows pulled together and everything. It was so embarrassing.

"Aw, thank you, my little good luck charm!"

Never had you wanted to run away from a family gathering so badly before. Your mom shook her head and giggled like a schoolgirl. Your sisters seethed with jealousy. Dad just squinted his eyes and grumbled in disgust.

"Oh, no you don't, pretty boy! Not in my house! Not without mistletoe!"

"Bring it on, old man."

The victor was long decided before the fight even started. You and your family watched in utter horror at Satoru and your father. You all jolted, clutching each other for support, covering your eyes, gasping, cringing, making faces as a few thwacks filled the air followed by your father's grunts and what sounded like bones cracking. Maybe Dad's spine perhaps? And before you knew it, Satoru had thrown him over his shoulder, and now Dad was on the floor.

And… Satoru was sitting on top of him.

Dad never stood a chance.

Satoru grinned, "I should have mentioned before that I'm an expert at martial arts!"

No no no no no, this could not be happening. You clapped your hands over your mouth. Dinner was over. Christmas Eve was over. Time to go home. You were prepared to high tail it out of there.

"O - Okay! I give!" your father screeched, "I'm sorry for calling you sissy! I misjudged you!"

Satoru got off him and extended out a hand to help your father up. At least he took those stupid insults with utmost grace. Mom ran forward with an ice pack in preparation as Dad cracked his back to loosen up once more. Instead of being livid… he just gripped Satoru's hand firmly in a handshake.

"Martial arts, huh? Very impressive, son!"

Oh, it was son now?

It was unbelievable that any of this was happening! Blinking off your initial shock, you ran right up to Satoru and curled your arms around his. With the fakest of smiles, you nuzzled your head into your boyfriend's arm.

"Oh, what a good fight! You're so strong, sweetheart! Now come sit down… and don't do anything!"

"Dinner's ready!"

Your father groaned as he sat in his chair, "G - great…"

Dinner went pretty normal. Satoru toned it down a notch for the time being. He laughed and placed his hand on your thigh when talking. He talked about his fancy car that all of a sudden your dad loved. They talked about Satoru's natural talent for martial arts again. He passed the potatoes when asked. He refused a glass of wine. There was some light conversation between the delicious food, and Satoru cracked a couple jokes here and there. Of course your tipsy parents laughed at everything he said and pried into your romantic life a bit more. They asked everything you could imagine, including why they hadn't heard you were dating Satoru Gojo sooner - however, Satoru was quick to explain it was all meant to be a fun surprise. At least he helped out there. It seemed he was bonefied boyfriend material.

But then, things started to go awry again.

When it was time to get up and move to the other room for opening gifts, Satoru promptly grabbed your hand and cleared his throat. As you stopped in place, you looked at him in a puzzled manner. He smirked at you, before placing a hand over his heart and sighing dramatically.

"Everyone, I have an announcement to make!"

"I knew it! My baby is pregnant!"

"NO, MOM!"

Through it all, you whipped your head to angrily meet Satoru's gaze. He held onto your hand tightly. With pleading eyes, you just silently begged him to get on with whatever this was. Because, to be honest, you were so sick of all these surprises from your fake boyfriend. Slowly, he got down on one knee. You felt your eyes widen as your jaw slowly dropped open.

You specifically said no proposal!

"I know we haven't been together for very long, but everything just feels… so right with you. Sweetheart, I love you."

SATORU, WHYYYYYY?

He pulled out a small navy velvet box. He opened it up to reveal the family ring inside he told you about only hours earlier. Now that you had gotten a better look, it was very pretty. It matched Satoru's eyes. In fact, it was a perfect copy of all the shine, all the sparkles, and all the clarity reflected in his own six eyes.

"Will you marry me?"

Although it was a fake proposal, you couldn't help the fact that your face heated up. For a moment, you clutched your free hand to your chest and your eyebrows pulled together. Your head tilted to the side as you gave him a dreamy look and such an adoring smile. When Satoru gave you a wink and whispered nice under his breath - you snapped out of it. Oh, yes! Remember this was all fake! With a slight gasp, you turned to see your family with wide smiles painted across their faces.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. For some reason, your throat was tightening as your breath quickened. Your eyebrows twitched in nervousness, and you blinked when tears started pooling at the corners of your eyes. Satoru blinked, nearly losing his happy expression upon seeing yours waver. Seeing your family like that… so happy, and all for nothing. This charade had gone on for too long now.

"No!"

Satoru's smile faded. And although all fake, you couldn't help but feel your heart rip in two at that hurt face Satoru gave. The way your heart dropped deep into the pit of your stomach upon meeting his azure eyes. You had put him through enough too. The feeling of being so sick welled deep inside your stomach.

Your family was just stunned to silence. Immediately, you turned to them.

"I'm sorry! This is all fake! Satoru and I aren't really dating! I just asked him to pretend being my boyfriend because I couldn't take another minute of you all pressuring me to find someone!"

With a deep breath and a sniffle, you looked down at the man on one knee.

"And I'm so sorry for asking you to do this! I've made fools out of us!"

With that, you ran off crying. Everyone stood in silence. The only noise made was the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut. A few more moments passed, and your mother gripped at your father's arm. There were slight tears in her eyes as well.

"Oh, I didn't mean to… we just want our baby to be happy, and… oh no, I've been terrible."

Your father rested his hand atop your mother's, "Dammit, we screwed up. I'll go talk to - "

"I'll go."

Satoru got up off his knee as he closed the box, returning it to his pocket.

"Oh, honey - "

Your mother began, but Satoru closed his eyes and gave a light smile,

"It's okay. I want to. We talk about everything."

With a blink, your father motioned his arm down the hall to point out the bathroom where you were currently sobbing in. Satoru glided down the hall smoothly, and his knuckles tapped at the door.

"Open up."

"No!" you managed to croak out between hiccups.

There was a brief pause.

"I will break down this door if I have to."

No response except for a sniff.

"I'm gonna do it!"

When you heard the doorknob jiggle, you gasped and immediately flung the door open. Satoru could most definitely break down the door, and easily too. So to save yourself more trouble for the evening, you opened it. Immediately, Satoru pushed you back inside and slammed the door behind him, locking it. You both just stared at each other for a while, until between all the sniffs, Satoru wiped a tear from your eye with his finger.

"Hey." he greeted softly with a small smile.

"Satoru, why don't you just go home?"

"I don't want to."

If you weren't so upset, you would have asked why. There was no energy for that as you were still drying the last of your tears and composing yourself. In attempts to ease the situation at hand, Satoru smiled and spoke his next words so casually. As if nothing had just happened.

"I gotta ask you a very important question."

"Right now? I don't think this is a good time."

He smiled again, seeming to ignore you.

"Will you go out with me?"

A beat.

"Oh, that's real funny, you jerk!"

"I'm serious."

He grabbed your hands in his own, looking at you with a calm and collected face. His blue eyes were slightly lidded again. Even in the crappy lighting of your parents' bathroom, they still shined. They still looked good. And Satoru looked damn good too.

"You said you'd do anything in return, and I want a date."

"Are… are you for real right now?"

"I've been wanting to ask you for a while actually."

You licked your lips at him. You titled your head to the side at the soft look in his eyes. He wasn't laughing, nor was he smiling, and he still held your hands in his own. He continued.

"So let's go on one date. And then you can decide from there if I'm being real or not."

Remember, he touched your butt. He got a kiss. Plus, he proposed to you. All that and you weren't even together. All that, even when you told him not to. If all of that happened, and you weren't even dating yet, then what would the real deal be like?

Satoru was so insufferable.

Maybe… it was all a little fun. And maybe, it did feel natural. Throughout the night, maybe you did think about actually having a relationship with Satoru Gojo. He was everything you needed and more. He was always there, and he made you laugh. There were countless memories with him. On top of that, maybe he'd let you touch his butt once in a while too. He was kind of hot, after all. Just kind of. And the butt. So with a smile, you let out a giggle.

"Yes, I'll go out with you."

A grin broke out on his face as he pulled you in for a hug. You buried your face in his chest and smiled when you reached your arms around to clutch the fabric of his shirt at his back. With a deep breath, you never realized how truly nice it was to hold him. Promptly, Satoru pulled back for a minute.

"Oh, by the way I am totally not kissing you in your parents' bathroom. Not hot at all."

He grinned again, and you broke out into laughter. You threw your head back as tears collected in your eyes from how hard you were laughing this time. Once you were able to calm down, Satoru shuffled and stuck his hands in his pocket again to pull out the sapphire ring from earlier.

"Oh yeah, will you at least keep this dumb ring?"

"I could never! That's a family heirloom!"

"Aw, please? It's old and dusty. I don't even want it." he scoffed, basically shoving it into your hands. You took a moment to study his face. He wasn't even looking you in the eye, and a pink hue was at his cheeks. A smirk appeared on your lips.

"You might need it someday."

With a wink, you placed it back in Satoru's hand, slowly closing his fingers around it. You didn't think it were possible, but Satoru's cheeks went even darker and redder in color. Unlike him, you actually knew when to stop tormenting the person you had a crush on. So you quickly changed the subject.

"So when do you want to go on a date?"

"You free tomorrow?"

"I'm all yours."

"All mine?" he purred, "I like the sound of that."

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #mugi writes

[undiscovered-horizon]

Who am I to complain? - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[emotional and verbal abuse, unhealthy parent-child relationships]

SUMMARY: When your parents come to visit, Nikolai finally understands why you've never been keen to talk about them. Being the King and your husband, he isn't afraid to defy them.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.5k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

"Have you listened to anything I've just said?"

Nikolai shakes you awake from being lost in thought. You look away from the insanely interesting skirting board you had been staring at for the past ten minutes. He’s watching you with raised eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

"I…” you hang your voice. At first, you wanted to just apologize and ask him to repeat himself but then a sense of dread sprouts in your abdomen - one you can’t quite put a finger on but it takes over your entire mind. “I'm sorry, Kolya. Please, don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry,” you plead, gradually speaking faster.

“I’m not angry,” he states firmly. “But I am growing concerned for you, love. What’s going on?”

“I just keep thinking about my parents' visit,” you confess while rubbing your forehead. “Ever since the letter arrived, I can hardly think about anything else."

"Yes, I've noticed you have been a bit absent for the past few days. I assumed you were going to talk to me when you're ready. Are you?"

"They're not bad people," you begin in a strange tone that makes Nikolai doubt your words right away, "and they've only done their best to give me a good life. Despite that, they have a tendency to bring out the parts of me I've grown to dislike." 

“Isn’t that what every family does?” he jokes in hopes of easing your visible discomfort. But his good humour is gone the moment you look away with a sombre expression stuck to your features.

Nikolai always considered himself exceptional at self-control but something about your sadness makes him gradually abandon reason. As you forlornly stare into the darkness of your shared bedroom, he’s ready to stick feathers to his clothes and pretend to be a peacock just to make you laugh.

“Love,” he calls out softly. His hand rests between your shoulder blades. “You’re the queen. If you want, we can call their visit off right away.”

“That would be a little rude, no?” you ask in a meek voice.

“It’s a lot more crude to make you cry.”

“I will be alright, really,” you reassure him. That miserable look on your face is slowly creeping away. “It’s just three days. Maybe they’ve changed or they’re a lot better than I remember. I’ll be okay.”

Nikolai is unsure whether you’re trying to convince yourself or him but he doesn’t push. Despite not believing your clumsy words of reassurance, he trusts you - he’ll step in only when things really get out of hand.

Nervousness and excitement often feel the same and one might even fool themselves into believing that the mortifying tension in their muscles is actually an impatient thrill. Today, however, you don’t even try playing a little trick on yourself. The more you think about your feelings, the more you’re convinced that it’s not even nervousness but fear. Still, you don’t quite understand why exactly your parents’ visit elicits such awful emotions from you.

The door to the throne room opens and a man in a white and gold livery steps inside. He quickly walks halfway to the dais with the throne. 

The servant bows as deep as he can and clears his throat before loudly announcing: “Presenting her most royal Highness’s, the Queen’s, mother and father.”

Only then do your parents emerge from the hall, walking hesitantly through the spacious throne room. Two guards are following them and your father spares them a confused glance every few steps. But the armed men only usher him to keep walking and not turn his back to the king until allowed to do so.

Feeling fear exploding in your chest, you grip Nikolai’s shoulder even tighter. Sitting on the throne, he has to look up to meet your eyes.

“Calm down, it’s going to be alright,” he says quietly. A reassuring smile curves his lips. “You said it yourself.”

As though he is a Heartrender himself, his words make you relax. You take a deep breath and let go of his shoulder. At that moment, Nikolai stands up to greet your parents as their son-in-law first and only then the king of Ravka.

Right then, your mother quickly runs up the few steps leading to the dais. Her face is red and a deep crease now separates her eyebrows.

“I have to wait to be announced to see my own daughter?” She’s barely containing her outrage. “Nonsense!”

“I’m royalty now, mother,” you explain calmly. Your voice almost doesn’t shake.

“And I’m still your mother, the one that gave birth to you. Do I not get any benefits from that?”

Maybe some people don’t actually change.

“I’m afraid you don’t.”

“Is this gold?!” your father exclaims in shock as his hand reaches for your heavy necklace. “So because of you most of Ravka is starving?”

Too occupied with the jewellery, your parents don’t notice the palace guards stepping forward to arrest them for such an accusation aimed at the queen. Nikolai spares them a meaningful look, waving them off. In his heart, he agrees with them.

“Actually, this is a gift from a businessman in Kerch,” you say quietly. Suddenly, you remember why you’ve never visited them since your wedding.

“Still, don’t you think this is a little distasteful?”

Your mother places her hand on your father’s shoulder. “She’s always been vain, darling,” she reminds him.

You’re not a queen anymore - at least you don’t feel like it. All of the gold, silk and jewels are gone and you’re back to being a scared, little girl with hay stuck in her hair. Tears sting your eyes.

Whatever you do is wrong. All of your efforts are underwhelming. Maybe they’d be happier if you weren’t there.

"You're crying?” your father asks with a hint of disgust in his voice. “Oh, don't be so sensitive, you know we’re only joking!” He’s still holding your necklace in his fingers, admiring the glistening crystals. Standing so close to you, he lowers his voice significantly to appear inconspicuous but Nikolai manages to pick up his calloused words. “Pull yourself together, this is embarrassing.”

As she usually does, your mother brings the attention back to herself. “She can be a bit much at times, so I hope you’re a patient one!”

The guards exchange questioning looks, silently asking one another if they should intervene this time. Most of the time they follow Tolya and Tamar’s steps but they’re left to their own devices on this day as Nikolai ordered the twins to take a day off. Perhaps it’s for the best - they’d surely escalate this already uncomfortable situation but it’s only because they care.

“I’d say it’s quite the opposite,” Nikolai answers, unaffected. Despite his speaking to your mother, he’s looking into your eyes. “I can never get enough of her.”

“For most of her life, I thought she’d never get married!” your mother continues. She’s gripping your arm with much more strength than her appearance suggests. “Men don’t like them independent, stubborn and opinionated.”

Nikolai’s polite smile doesn’t falter. “Three qualities of an excellent Queen.”

Your mother laughs obnoxiously. “Just wait a few years, dear.” She pats his shoulder. The guards look between themselves again. “You’ll be quick to send her off just like we were!”

Both of your parents laugh wholeheartedly while you and Nikolai exchange knowing looks. Now he understands why you have been so uneasy lately. This is going to be the longest three days of his life.

The perplexity continues as your mother suddenly places her hands around your waist, examining your torso in great detail. A sour expression forms on her face.

“Oh, honey, you’ve let yourself go,” she says in a worried tone. Her eyes trail the curve of your physique up until she looks at your face. With a serious glint in her eye, she advises you under her breath: “You can’t get fat and slobby if you want to keep the king.” 

The man who announced your parents appears again but this time he walks all the way to the stairs leading up to the throne, although doesn’t dare climb them. His facial expression borders on emotionless and serious as though he’s more of a marble statue rather than a servant.

“Your most royal Highness.” The man bows deeply. “The room is prepared.”

“Excellent.” Nikolai uses the opportunity to cut the awkward conversation short in a diplomatic way. “Escort our guests to their chamber.” 

“Right away, мой царь.”

When the butler disappears around the corner with your parents apprehensively following him, Nikolai looks at you with a grim expression. 

“Are they usually like this?” he asks, disapproval hiding between his words.

“They’re worse at home,” you answer with a shrug. A lot of terrible feelings and thoughts you were convinced you had left behind are coming back and you’re unsure how to handle that.

“You’ve put up with this kind of disrespect for your whole life?”

“It’s not disrespect, just…” you hang your voice looking for the right expression, “tough love. They don’t mean any harm.”

“Don’t mean any harm?” he repeats in disbelief. “They’ve been here for fifteen minutes and they are yet to say something nice to you. Neither of them even asked whether you’re doing alright.”

A short, troubled sigh leaves your lips. Your fingers trail the golden embroidery decorating his kaftan. “I’m married to a dashing, handsome king and live in a palace. I think they know I’m doing well.”

His hand gently grabs yours, keeping it against his chest. “As much I like flattery, especially coming from you, you can’t pull wool over my eyes, love. It’s not a matter of knowing but principle. Remember our wedding? The guests kept asking how you’re doing so much, you kept saying you’re perfectly fine before they even got a chance to ask.”

The memory elicits a chuckle from you. Yes, everyone seemed to be preoccupied with making sure you were happy and satisfied. It came to such a point, you yelled at Nikolai’s cousin ‘Yes, I’m fine!’ before she gave you a weird look and asked if you wanted some vodka mixed with your champagne. Truly, the only royal thing about Marina is her ungodly fortune but maybe that’s why you’ve grown to like her a lot - she’s down to earth and easy-going.

Nikolai squeezes your hand in a gentle, reassuring manner. “Just say the word and I will personally throw them out.”

“Kolya!” You gasp at his offer but it quickly turns into laughter. “They’re my parents and your in-laws!”

“They also refuse to show care and respect towards my beloved Queen.”

That mellow, loving look in his eyes nullifies any annoyance you might feel at his stubbornness. You pull your hand out of his grasp and place it on the side of his face. Consciously or not, he slightly leans into your touch. “I appreciate your concern.” Not minding the guards in the room, you’ve grown used to their constant presence, you peck his lips shortly. “But they have just arrived. You’ll warm up to them.”

Nikolai doesn’t answer at first. He only reconnects your lips, kissing you deeper, more desperately. When you feel his hands coming up to your waist, you lean away from him. For a moment, you swear you can see a grimace of dissatisfaction on his face.

“Be decent,” you reprimand him but the wide smile you wear so well rids your words of all seriousness.

“You started this.”

“And I will finish if you play nice.”

Nikolai takes a rather long step back, away from you,  just to make a point. He’s standing with his hands behind his back, an excited grin on his face. “You make an exquisite diplomat, you know that?”

“I learned from the best.”

The time for dinner came faster than you wanted it to. Anxiety bubbled inside your chest again. Still, you continued trying to soap up your eyes with thoughts that maybe when they sit across the table from a king, they’re going to withdraw their little jabs at you. As they say: Hope is the mother of all fools. And you’re about to learn that.

Nikolai raises his cup with wine. “A toast to our beloved Queen,” he announces in an official tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he spares you an adoring look. “Without her, I’d be a lonely, perplexed king. May we not know the world without her.”

To your horror, your father decides to join him. “May she get a grip and come to her senses.”

The dry wine tastes even more bitter as you take what’s supposed to be a celebratory sip. What if he’s right about you? It’s only the beginning of the evening and you already wish you can miraculously vanish or, worst case scenario, just run away. 

You’re about to take a bite of the roasted pheasant on your plate when your mother looks at you with raised eyebrows. She points her fork between you and the plate. “Should you really be eating all of this?” 

You don’t answer her. Whatever you say will only egg her on. Get a grip, you scold yourself and clench your fist to push fingernails into the sensitive skin of your palm. The pain is distracting, grounding.

 "You know, sweetheart, you're not getting any younger,” your mother continues. She always does that - throwing poignancies one after another and seeing what sticks. Now, when she’s literally the mother of the queen, she’s even bolder than before.

“Mother-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” She points her knife at you. “All I’m saying is as a wife, especially the queen, you have only one duty and you shouldn’t wait with it. Things will only get more difficult as you age.”

Nikolai gives your mother a bright smile. “Have no worries,” he cuts in. “We’re not waiting.”

You almost drop your fork. Flustering people is definitely one of his strategies but must he really involve your sex life in his word games? Although mortified at his bluntness, you must admit it works - your mother’s face is about the same shade as the roasted tomatoes on her plate. She casts her eyes downwards, poking at the food in front of her.

The air is filled with awkward tension but Nikolai doesn’t seem to mind in. In fact, he looks quite proud of himself. You, on the other hand, aren’t as good at putting up a believable front.

“So,” you begin in hopes of easing the atmosphere”, how are things back in…” You hang your voice. You were about to say ‘home’, only to realize that it would be an honest lie. The little town where you grew up hasn’t been home in years. “...Tamboyevka?”

“Oh, you know,” your mother says as she makes a dismissive wave with her hand. “Same old, same old. Cattle and field, nothing interesting to someone of your sort, I presume! There’s never been much use of you anyway.”

Listening to your mother’s condescending words, you push your fingernails further into the skin of your hand to distract yourself from the feeling of shame that continues to grow inside your stomach and pull you down with it. Maybe the marble floor will swallow you whole in the next few minutes and all of this will be over.

Then you feel Nikolai’s warm hand sneak between your palms, breaking up your painful distraction. He leans towards you ever so slightly and whispers:

“I’d much rather you pinch and scratch my hand than hurt yourself.”

You look at his concerned face. Words of reassurance, ‘Don’t worry, I’m alright’, nearly push past your lips when your father chimes in, continuing the conversation.

“But your brother, he bought some land down south,” he announces with excitement.

“More land?” you ask. “Ha barely manages with what he already has.”

The memory of your brother’s tired, grey face flashes before your eyes. Every time you see him, he looks even sicker than before as though he never sleeps or eats, only works in the field. He even collapsed on one July day and your parents kept saying that this is a sign of an honest, hard-working man but you weren’t as quick to call a man throwing up everything he eats ‘healthy’.

“You know how he is, always helping others.” Your mother is beaming with pride as if she’s the one doing the farming. “His crops feed two villages and it’s not nearly enough for him! Said he wanted tomatoes and citruses.”

Then it hits you. It’s not a revelation in any way but rather something you don’t think about too often - most of Ravka doesn’t get fruits in winter, especially the ones growing in warmer climates near the Shu Han border. And you not only can easily get it even when snow covers the grassy fields but you’re essentially fed it. Like that one time, you shared a tangerine with Nikolai while sitting in front of a fire, talking about unimportant things.

Despite your mother sitting right in front of you, her voice echoed in your head as though she’s a phantom haunting your thoughts and not a real person: Selfish. Spoiled. Entitled. Ungrateful. People starve because of you.

You focus on Nikolai’s warm, rough hand that’s still holding your own. The pleasant sensation is gradually grounding you, pulling you out of your head and into the present moment.

“What for?” you ask as casually as you can, not giving in to the spiralling thoughts. It still feels like you’re underwater, desperately gasping for air as your lungs burn. Squeezing Nikolai’s hand, you break the surface of the vicious tides trying to drown you in panic and shame.

Your mother, on the other hand, appears completely oblivious to your plight. “Some child told him they’d like oranges and he couldn’t say no. He’s wonderful, truly. A living Saint! What a blessing to call him my son. You should take a serious cue from him, young lady.” She waves the tip of her knife in your direction again. “But enough about your brother. What do you do when you’re not wasting time? Lay around and smell nice?”

“Well,” you swallow nervously, already knowing that she won’t be satisfied with your answer, “I meet a lot of people, take correspondence, travel across the country or read if I find the time.”

Nikolai must notice the telling crease of disappointment between your mother’s eyebrows. He joins the conversation under a skilful facade of a proud, boasting husband. “Don’t sell yourself short, love. Our Queen,” he puts strange stress on the title, “has started a scholarship for disadvantaged children, takes the time to teach young girls sewing, foreign languages and arithmetic.”

“That’s quite useless, isn’t it?” your mother looks between you and your father, not acknowledging Nikolai’s presence. She keeps stabbing the roasted pheasant on her plate with a fork as though there’s still life inside the poor poultry. “Shouldn’t you try harder?” she hisses at you. “If you continue being this lazy, the whole kingdom will fall apart! What will our neighbours say then?”

Nikolai suddenly gets up. He’s still holding your hand but you can’t be sure whether he’s doing that on purpose or if it’s just an unconscious reflex. The candlelight from the crystal chandelier cascades off his face, pronouncing the clenched muscles of his jaw - he’s angry and barely holding it in.

“Our meeting at this table is adjourned,” he announces in a firm voice. “This is beyond unacceptable. I have overlooked your transgressions simply because of your affinity to my wife. Still, I am disheartened and disappointed with the way you address your queen in her own home. The guards will escort you back to your chambers.”

You hear your mother and father trying to argue and protest, saying something about you being ‘too proud’ and ‘forgetting your place’ but you’re so dumbfounded you can’t make out the details. The guards lead them out of the dining room through one of the tall pairs of doors. When they close behind them, everything goes silent - the brick walls muffle any turmoil your parents might be causing.

Suddenly, your throat constricts. It’s hard to take a breath. Has it always been so hot in here? The tips of your fingers tingle, blood never reaching them.

He threw them out and you didn’t say anything. If they didn’t hate you before, they surely do now. You’re a disappointment, not their child. They haven’t done anything wrong, after all. You’re no good, useless, ungrateful, dramatic.

Suffocating with panic, you run out of the room through a different pair of doors, across the dining hall from the ones behind which your parents had recently disappeared. You hear Nikolai’s footsteps behind you but they are muffled by the noise of bloodflow ringing in your ears.

“Hey, talk to me,” he calls out in a soft voice. You turn around to look at him. His hand is almost at the height of your shoulder but it momentarily drops as though he just backed out from touching you. “What’s going on?”

For a man as smart as him, that’s a really stupid question.

“Why did you do that, Nikolai?” you snap at him.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. A gasp of disbelief brushes past his lips - he clearly thought the two of you were on the same page. “They were insulting you over and over again. I couldn’t just sit and listen to that.”

Truly, you should have expected that. He’s been adamant about standing up to your parents from the very beginning. Still, you’re angry that he just had to be stubborn and do the one thing you explicitly asked him not to do.

“What happened to laugh at insults? Isn’t that your own advice?”

“It is.” Nikolai finally finds it in himself to place his hands on your shoulders. “But I found myself unable to remain collected when the bitter words were aimed at you.” His palms brush against your dress and the skin of your neck until they’re cradling your face.

“I can,” you state firmly. “You should have let me handle this, I’m used to this.”

You escape his loving grasp and he lets you. Walking forward away from him, you’re not quite sure where exactly you’re heading. ‘Away’ would be a lovely direction but quite impossible when you’re confined to those four walls of marble and gold.

“You shouldn’t be,” Nikolai calls out after you.

Suddenly, you halt. You look at him around your shoulder. “What?”

“You shouldn’t be used to being treated like this,” he says in a defeated tone while walking towards you again. “They just keep putting you down, humiliating you. You’re not even slightly upset about that?”

“Of course, I am but…” you hang your voice, finally questioning your own feelings towards your parents. “It’s unfair for me to be angry with them. Ungrateful. I never went hungry or cold. They gave me medication when I was sick and made sure I went to school. Every year they’d give me something for my birthday. Neither of them has ever raised their hand against me. They’ve done all they could to give me a good life. Who am I to complain?”

“You’re the Queen,” he drones the word. His hand holds the side of your face again, thumb lovingly brushing your cheek. “People say your name in the same breath as the names of all the Saints. When I don’t know what to do or what decision to make, I always ask myself what you would do. And I’ve never once regretted that. There are important people who have agreed to my invitation only after hearing that you’ll be there too. You change everything. So you get to be angry when someone refuses to see that. I know you can take a few mean words but I don’t want you to.”

For a moment, the two of you stand in comfortable, intimate silence. Your absent gaze is stuck to the floor as you’re pondering his words. Whenever you’re about to accept that maybe, just maybe, you’re doing something good and important, the voice of your mother echoes inside your head: ‘Vain’. But Nikolai wouldn’t lie to you, would he? At least not in those circumstances.

“Can you keep a secret?” he speaks up quietly, bringing your attention back to him.

“Don’t tell me you put a wild racoon in my parent’s bedroom,” you joke, surprising yourself at your newly-found humour.

He scrunches his nose. “Alright, can you keep two secrets?” The echo of the empty halls carries your bright laughter. “To be honest, I wanted to marry you the moment you argued with me about stealing that merchant frigate in Kerch.”

“I could tell,” you answer with a slow nod. “You had a really stupid look on your face, all dazed and absent. In fact, you wore the same one on our wedding day.”

Nikolai’s lips turn into a playful smile and he’s about to say something definitely smart and smooth but a servant interrupts him:

“Your most royal highness,” she says nervously as she curtsies, “your mother wishes to see you. She seems thoroughly upset, if I may say so.” Judging by her fearful, wide-open eyes, she must have gotten a taste of your parents' hurt ego.

Anxiety once again floods your mind. Maybe you should go, apologize and pray they won’t go on a tirade about ‘raising you differently’. But then you hear Nikolai inconspicuously but meaningfully clear his throat.

‘You’re the queen’, his voice echoes in your head. A queen doesn’t cower and bow her head, does she?

“Tell her I don’t take visitations tonight,” you order the servant.

“Right away, моя царица.” She can’t hide the waver in her voice. Judging by her already fearful demeanour, she can guess quite well what will happen the moment she relays the information.

Yes, you will have to warn your parents that they actually can’t hurl insults at your servants. It’s going to be challenging, yes, but this newfound confidence is a ferocious beast, driving you to own up to the title of the queen - not in the way your mother and father want you to but in a way that you need to.

“Oh, one more thing.” The girl immediately stops and turns around at the sound of your voice. “Make sure they don’t leave their wing until either of us says so. I don’t want them wandering around my home.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

The servant bows again and leaves the two of you in a rushed step. Nikolai waits until she disappears around the corner to let his hand drop to the small of your back. He leans in close, indecently so. “I love it when you get all commanding,” he whispers against your neck.

An airy laugh leaves your lips as he pecks the soft skin behind your ear.

____

мой царь [mo-ee tzar] -> my tsar/king

моя царица [mo-ya tsa-ree-tsa] -> my tsaritsa/queen

#nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bones x you

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART ONE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.5k

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This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?

The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be. 

There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?

Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot. 

"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.

"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."

"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long. 

"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.

"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"

Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."

"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."

"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.

"But—"

"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"

"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"

Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself. 

"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."

"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all! 

There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."

And another realization slides into place. 

"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word. 

Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.

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"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"

Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather. 

"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."

"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."

You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."

Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end. 

Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present. 

The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month. 

The extra time was sorely appreciated. 

In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times. 

There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?

Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?

In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years. 

Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings. 

Probably. 

Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing. 

Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.

"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it. 

The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them. 

It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.

It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping. 

Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically. 

Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again. 

It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day. 

"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head. 

"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.

"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it. 

"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.

When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese. 

While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her. 

So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table. 

Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath. 

"Hi."

The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either. 

Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.

"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable. 

You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay," Wanda replied warily. 

"Do you practice witchcraft?"

The question stumped Wanda.

"What?" 

"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious. 

"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."

Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her. 

"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"

Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang. 

"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."

Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old. 

After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda. 

Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship. 

You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened. 

Your parents divorced.

Wanda's mother passed away from cancer. 

You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after. 

You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care. 

Wanda started to date Vision.

Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her. 

You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it. 

Wanda's first break-up with Vision. 

You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott. 

When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you. 

Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.

"I'm home!" 

Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.

When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.

"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.

"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."

You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly. 

"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"

"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."

"Homesickness?"

"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."

"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"

Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."

"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."

Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence. 

This was everything, Wanda thought.

Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone. 

"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."

Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.

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"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.

"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"

"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."

"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."

"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."

Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake. 

The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start. 

Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally. 

"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."

Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation. 

"THEY WOULD NEVER—"

"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."

"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"

"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."

The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts. 

"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.

"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."

"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."

"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible." 

"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."

"That's not true," Wanda protests.

"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."

"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."

"But—"

"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down. 

"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.

And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance. 

"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.

"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."

"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.

"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."

Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you. 

There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here. 

How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?

Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.

The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.

"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.

You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.

It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking. 

Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.

And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment. 

Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"

"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda. 

"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing. 

"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."

Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"

"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself. 

The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it. 

Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder. 

Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it. 

Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself. 

Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.

Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth. 

As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.

It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge. 

After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.

Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving. 

"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"

Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."

"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer. 

"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.

"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date." 

"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up. 

"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."

Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.

Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all. 

PART THREE

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

In Case I Do Something Stupid

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV and Dean POV

Summary:  Reader is a grad student in college trying to work hard for her degree while maintaining a long distance relationship with Dean Winchester. This is part three of my "Before You Go" series (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Age Difference, (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early 30's), Established Relationship

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: There is some swearing (only a few times), implied reference of past sex (once or twice), Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

This fic includes song lyrics that are in italics and bold font.

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

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

Reader POV

"Did you get it?" Dean asks.

You're standing in front of your mailbox in the lobby of your apartment, cradling the phone between your shoulder and neck while you sort through your mail. There were a lot more bills than you were hoping for.

It had been a long day and all you really wanted was to go lie down, but you had a test in the morning, which meant that you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

It had been two months since the whole “Cooper” thing and despite Dean’s insistence for you to come over to the bunker if he ever showed his face, Cooper hadn’t appeared once.

Of course that meant that Suze was out of the apartment more to spend time with him, wherever it was he lived. Neither of you had spoken about the incident, not since the morning after when Dean was asleep and you snuck out to make coffee before he woke up and you ran into her. You remember the dark circles under her eyes and  the way her face was red and puffy from crying. You hadn’t known what to say so you nodded a “good morning” and walked back into your bedroom with coffee for you and Dean.

Dean was trying to convince you to move out, but the rent was so cheap you didn’t think you’d be able to find anything better. But with the summer approaching quickly, that meant you could spend more time at the bunker with Dean.

An elderly woman breezes through the main lobby of the apartment building, wearing a bright purple tracksuit. "Hi y/n."

"Hi Mrs. Travis." You respond, holding off from answering Dean.

"Where's your special friend?" She smiles widely at you.

The last time Dean had visited, Mrs. Travis asked him to come help her unclog her drain. You and Mrs. Travis sat at her kitchen table together watching Dean work under the sink while eating mass quantities of chocolate chip cookies. You'd been over to see her a few times since, and each time she told you that Dean reminded her of her husband and would ask when he was coming back.

"He's at home this week."

"What a shame. Tell him to come back anytime. I'll make some of those cookies for him again." She smiles before continuing on to the elevator.

"Who was that?"

"Your wife." You snort into the phone.

"Oh she's the best. Those cookies were so good." Dean moans. "Can you please bring some of those when you come this weekend?"

"I'll see what I can do." You sift through the mail in your hand. There's a collection of bills and a large green make-shift envelope that has been duct taped together with thick silver tape to cradle the contents.

"But did you get it?" Dean asks again.

"By it do you mean a creepy duct taped envelope? Because yes I did." You hold it by the corner turning it over to see Dean's untidy scrawl in black sharpie over the front of it.

This looks like a kindergartener made it. You imagine Dean sitting at his desk in the bunker with a pair of scissors, his tongue between his teeth in concentration and smile to yourself.

"Okay good." Dean sounds relieved.

"I could have just picked whatever this is up this weekend."

"You're telling me that you don't like getting mail?"

"I like getting mail, but this looks like a ransom note. Is someone holding you hostage? Because if that’s happening I don’t have any money and I'm sure you'll be fine." You smile, trying to find a way to open it, but the duct tape was thwarting you.

"No it’s not a ransom note." Dean pauses on the other side of the line. "Wait, you wouldn’t pay money for me?" 

"I mean. Maybe?" You shrug as if he could see you, smiling wide at the envelope.

"That’s reassuring."

"Alright so you’re saying that if I was being held for ransom, you’d give them Baby for me?"

Dean doesn't answer. You can hear him mulling it over in his head, but you already know the answer to that question. You knew that Baby always comes first.

“That’s a long pause Dean.”

"I’m sure the connection is bad. Because I did answer-" Dean begins to say.

"How is the connection bad?" You interrupt, raising an eyebrow.

He tries again. "I’m driving through a tunnel?" It comes out like a question and you can’t help but laugh at his attempts to cover his mistake.

"I thought you said you were back at the bunker."

"Well, then the reception here sucks." He finishes and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You sigh to yourself. The last time you'd seen Dean was only a week ago, but it wasn't enough. Long distance was hard, but you felt that you both were giving it your all. Not to mention that this weekend you were coming to see him at the bunker, and it was a long weekend, which meant you both didn't have to rush.

"Uh-huh. Sure. If I get kidnapped I’m just gonna call Sam.”

"We are definitely off topic.” Dean sighs. “But you did get it?”

“Yes Dean I did. Whatever it is." You trace a finger over the silver taped edge. "Is this construction paper? Dean, you are a grown man, why do you have construction paper?”

“There’s a lot of old shit in this bunker.”

“For your birthday I’m getting you envelopes.”

"Sexy."

You roll your eyes, but finally break through the paper and pull out a bright yellow and black contraption. “You bought me a Walkman?”

Dean had previously bought you a cassette tape player that was on your desk in your apartment so you could listen to the mixtapes he made. Dean often made you mixtapes of his favorite songs, most of which you knew given you had almost the same taste in music, but each time you listened to one of his tapes it was like he was there in the room with you. It made the distance between you less when you missed him.

"Where did you even get a Walkman?" You ask.

"I told you there's a lot of old shit in this bunker." He laughs. "But this way you can listen to the mixtapes when you go to class or when you're at the library.” He says it nonchalant, but there's an edge to his voice that you don't understand.

I wonder if he's worried about something.

The thought makes you worry about him. Dean worried about a lot of things, but he usually kept it to himself. You figured it was because of his dad. You didn’t know too much about Dean’s father, only that he was dead and that he put a lot of responsibility and pressure on Dean’s shoulders when it came to Sam and the job he did, which forced Dean to be more guarded and unable to admit when he needed help. You of course, were very good at reading him and whenever Dean was worried, you made it a point to have him talk to you about it, even if you didn't have a suggestion. You wanted him to be comfortable letting his walls down. You needed him to know that you were there for him and that he didn’t need to carry the burden alone no matter how heavy it was.

You examine the Walkman, running your thumb against each black button that line along the top and against the smooth plastic edges. “That was very thoughtful. Thanks Dean.”

“You’re welcome.” He pauses. “I-uh- also included a new tape.”

“Oh cool. I can't wait to listen to it. I loved the last one."  You pop out the cassette and look at the label.

Dean always came up with ridiculous  names that made you laugh, names like "Psyched to See You Mix Vol 1," and "It's a Good Day to Call Dean."

This one was called "In Case I Do Something Stupid." "I love the name. Does it mean that this is just a pre-recorded blanket apology if you're not careful on a hunt-"

"No it's not."

"Uh-huh." You put the tape back into the Walkman.

“But for this one, when you listen to it, can you call me? I really want to know what you think.” Dean continues.

“If it’s another 8 minute drum solo of Moby Dick-“

“It's not and it hurts me that you didn’t like it. But promise that you’ll call after you listen to it.”

“It wasn't bad. And will there be a test?” You tease him, confused that he's so adamant about you calling him after you listen. Whenever Dean gave you a mixtape he was excited to know what you thought, but was usually more nonchalant about it.

"No." Dean laughs, but it doesn't sound right. "I just want to know what you think."

"Well I can bring it with me when I come this weekend and we can listen to it together-"

"NO!" Dean exclaims. "I mean-um- you should listen to it now and call me." He recovers stumbling over his words.

"Okay." You draw it out confused as to why he is acting so weird. "I will take detailed notes over all of the songs and tell you how much I loved them."

“Okay.” Dean pauses again. “Um y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I- I’m gonna be at the bunker for a few days researching so you can call me anytime-“ He says it quickly, not in the cool and collected way he usually spoke.

“Dean are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? You sound a little weird."

"I'm sure it's just the connection." Dean pauses again. "I-"

"Dean?"

“I miss you.” He says it hesitantly, and for a second you think that he was going to say something else.

“I miss you too. I promise I’ve just got the one test and then I’ll be there this weekend.”

"Okay."

"Okay."

You could feel the three little words hovering on the tip of your tongue, the three little words you would have gladly told him five months ago when you first started officially dating. You knew that you were in love with Dean, had been in love with him from the moment your eyes locked with his, but the problem was that you'd never said it to anyone else. Of course you'd never felt about anyone the way you felt about him. He was kind, caring, sexy, protective, and just the right amount of batshit crazy that always kept you guessing.

I miss him so much.

Dean hadn’t said it either. But you understood that he was a little slow when it came to stuff like that and it wasn’t that you thought he didn’t love you. Dean said it plenty of other ways. Not to mention you figured he probably also hadn’t said it to anyone before and might be afraid to admit it aloud.

"I'll see you this weekend okay?" You sigh into the phone while wishing that Dean was there to hold you.

"Can't wait. Bye Sweetheart."

"Bye Dean."

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

Three days pass and you still haven’t listened to the tape. Honestly you forgot about it,  too wrapped up in studying for the test and preparing a lab report that took twelve hours to finish, all the while your lab partner, Tim, was frantically proofreading over your shoulder so you could turn it in by the deadline.

It was Thursday night, one day from seeing Dean, and you were sitting in the library for your overnight shift. You reach into your backpack for your notebook, but when you pull it out, the headphones from the Walkman are tangled in the spiral of the notebook.

Oh no. You think to yourself. You couldn't believe that you forgot about the tape and you wonder if that's why Dean hadn't texted or called the past few days, because he was waiting for you to call him to tell him what you thought.

You carefully untangle the headphones from the notebook, before raising your head to look around the library. It was midnight, which meant that the only people in the library were you and the guy in the corner slumped over a stack of textbooks half asleep. His loud snores echoed through the empty room, something else that reminded you of Dean. He didn't believe that he snored, until you recorded it on your phone and played it back to him. But, you didn’t hate that he snored. Sometimes you hated how quiet it was in your bedroom when he wasn't there sleeping beside you, that was usually when you called him just to hear his voice through the phone and closed your eyes to imagine he was there.

Dean never cared what time it was when you called him, in fact, Dean liked it when you called him on your overnight shifts and when you were walking back to your apartment. He liked to make sure that nothing happened to you.

You didn't think that the sleeping man in the corner would need any help anytime soon, so you slip the headphones over your ears and hit play. But when the first song starts, you're confused.

The first song is one of your favorites, "I'll Have to Say I Love You In A Song,"  by Jim Croce. A singer that you liked to listen to when you winded down at the end of the day and also a singer that was not Dean's favorite. He often teased you about it. For Dean to include the song on the tape was unusual, but you figured that it was because he knew you loved it.

"Well I know it's kinda late,

I hope I didn't wake you,

But what I've gotta say can't wait,

I know you'd understand,

'Cause every time I tried to tell you,

The words just came out wrong,

So I'll have to say I love you in a song…"

You hum along to the music while tapping your foot along to the melody as you reach back into your bag to pull out your textbook and pencil case for your highlighters and note tabs.

The second song starts as you turn back to your textbook, finding the right chapter to begin studying. You had expected the next song to also be a Jim Croce song or another song that you liked given the name of the mixtape. You assumed that "In Case I Do Something Stupid" meant that the tape would be filled with songs you loved to make you feel better if Dean pissed you off, but the next song is not one you know. You can tell it's Kansas, one of Dean's favorite bands, and one that you didn't often listen to before you met him.

"…Stand beside me

I will never let you fall

Stand beside me

I'll come whenever you call…"

You smile to yourself at the lyrics, it makes you think about how dependable Dean is. How he's willing to drop anything and show up whenever you need him. The melancholy tone of the song makes you miss him even more.

The smell of coffee wafts from the 24/7 coffee shop in the lobby, drawing you up from your seat to answer the siren call. When you get back with a iced coffee, you place the headphones over your ears once more and hit play.

The next two songs you recognize, both Journey songs, "Open Arms" and "Faithfully." You’d heard "Open Arms" before, but you'd never taken the time to listen to the lyrics:

"So here I am

With open arms

Hoping you'll see

What your love means to me

Open Arms…"

When "Faithfully" follows, you can't help but feel a nagging sensation in the back of you mind when you listen to the lyrics of the soft ballad like you're missing something:

"…Lost without you

And being apart ain't

easy on this love affair…

Oh, girl, you stand by me

I'm forever yours

Faithfully…"

You highlight another definition in your textbook while chewing on the inside of your cheek. You did like Journey.

Maybe Dean just wanted to include songs that I liked after the whole 8-minute Moby Dick drum solo fiasco.

When the next song comes on you can tell that it's a Led Zeppelin song, given the familiar tone of the lead singer. You continue to listen, focusing on the chorus:

"Oh, all of my love, all of my love to you, now

All of my love, oh yes,

All of my love to you…"

You sit there for a second in the brief silence that follows the song, before you shrug. Dean always included a Led Zeppelin song in his mixtapes because he wanted to continue your education of music with one of his favorite bands.

The next song begins and you immediately know what it is, "Feel Like Makin' Love" by Bad Company. Dean had included the song in a previous mixtape, not to mention you had heard it before on a tape he played when the two of you were together in his room at the bunker. Your cheeks blush as you remember what you were doing when it played. He had plenty of mixtapes that were devoted to THAT particular subject.

But this time you really sit and listen to the words of the song, highlighter poised high over the page:

"Darling, I don't live without you

And your love…

Darling, if I live without you,

I live without love…"

It makes you think of Dean again. You sigh to yourself wishing that it was already time to go back to see him.

There are actually some nice lyrics in this song. You think making a note in the margins of the textbook perched on your knee. You look back up to survey the empty room. The only patron is still in the corner snoring away.

You sit back in your chair, textbook forgotten and pause the tape. You couldn't help but notice that all the songs had a particular theme and you couldn't understand why.

When you hit play the next two are Van Halen, one of your favorite bands, and you immediately recognize both songs. The quick pace of "So This is Love" washes over you, making your heartbeat spike with the beat of the drums.

"Yes, she knows she's mine

And ain't letting go

So this is love?

Ooh I need you love,

Baby, got to have your love…"

Your breath catches in your chest as "When It's Love" starts to play and the smooth sound of the piano tickles against your skin.

"When it's love

Ooh, when it's love

Hey it'll last forever

When it's love

You and I

We're going to feel this thing together…"

And before you can think about the words the next song follows, "Is This Love?" by Whitesnake.

"I feel my love for you growing stronger

Day by day

And I can't wait to see you again

So I can hold you in my arms

Is this love that I'm feeling?

Is this love or am I dreaming?

This must be love

'Cause it's really got a hold on me…"

The next song that follows is Styx, "Babe" and you had heard it on a previous playlist Styx tape that Dean loaned you when he found out that you'd never heard anything by the band before. But this time the song catches you off guard.

"'Cause I'll be lonely without you

And I'll need your love to see me through

But please believe me, my heart is in your hands

'Cause I'll be missing you

Babe, I love you…"

You sit there in the silence that follows "Babe," unable to stop the rapid beat of your heart recognizing the familiar theme with all of the other songs on the mixtape and unable to stop focusing on the words of the song. You take a sip of your iced coffee, tapping your highlighter against your textbook while trying to gather your thoughts. But you couldn't focus on anything on the page. Your thoughts turn to the funny name that Dean decided to call the mixtape.

It's just a coincidence. Dean made another mixtape with songs that he wanted to share with me-

And then the Jim Croce song, "I'll Have to Say I Love You In a Song," comes back on. And you understand. It was exactly what Dean was doing. He was saying "I love you" the only way he knew how.

You look at the label of the cassette again, running your thumb over the writing. You thought that the "In Case I Do Something Stupid" title Dean wrote, meant listen to the tape whenever he pissed you off for being careless on a hunt, but you realize the title referred to if Dean hurt you, if he broke your heart somehow along the way, the tape was a reminder and a confession of his love. A reminder that he wasn't going to give you up, and that he was going to fix it the best way he could.

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

Dean POV

He tapped his pen anxiously against the ancient text as he laid across his bed, glancing every few seconds at the dark phone on his left.

You still hadn’t called.

It’d been three days since you said you’d listen to the mixtape, three days of absolute agony. Dean sighed looking back at the text but he couldn’t focus on any of the words.

What if she listened to it and didn’t love me? What if that’s why she wasn’t calling? He thought to himself, frown deepening.

He’d thought about saying it to you a million times, almost said it on the phone three days ago, but he was afraid. Dean didn’t like admitting that, but it was true. His fear that you would reject his declaration of love kept him from whispering the three little words that he’d wanted to say from the moment you’d met and patched him up two years ago. He'd never said it before, but he'd never wanted to say it to anyone before he met you.

He glances back at his phone hopefully as the screen illuminates, but it's only a notification from his email. It was past six am, but every time Dean tried to go to sleep all he could think about was you, you and the fact that you hadn't called or texted.  Dean taps the pen on the book again, as his heart continues to sink.

Why is this so hard? Why can’t I just say it to her? I should call and tell her right now- Dean picks up his phone, but then puts it down.

Because what if you had listened to the tape and this was your way of avoiding him. What if you’d never call him back and that was it? What if this was your way of saying that you didn't love him and you didn't know how to get around the awkwardness of calling to tell him that you didn't?

His heart seized in his chest to think that. His mind began to circle the drain again, thinking of all the things he said to you the night that you told him that you wanted him. He had been surprised of course. You were so different than him, so warm and full of life that it made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun whenever he was around you. He didn't realize that you'd wanted him as much as he wanted you, in fact, half the time Dean believed that he didn't deserve to be with someone like you, not after all the things he'd done.

Dean rolls over on his back to look up at the ceiling of his bedroom, tracing the cracks in the metal and the familiar patches of rust, hoping for sleep to give him some relief.

But he can't, all he can think about is you.

Dean remembers his younger years, his years of stringing women along and flirting with whatever caught his eye. But you made him better man and that's why he loved you. You knew him better than anyone else, saw his flaws, allowed him to be open and vulnerable for the first time. You didn't make him feel like less of a man when he expressed emotions and you allowed him to break. Dean couldn't wait to see you again, because when he was with you, he didn't feel the albatross hanging around his neck.

A loud, frantic knocking at his door stirs him from his thoughts.

"I'm not in the mood Sammy." Dean grumbles. He throws his muscular forearm over his eyes to shut out the light above and to staunch the flow of self-deprecating thoughts.

The knocking persists.

Dean sighs loudly, before standing from his bed and walking to the solid metal door, his hotdog pajama pants swishing against his ankles.

"I said I'm not-" Dean looks up where Sam's face usually would be, but sees nothing.

What?

Then he drops his gaze and he sees you. Your cheeks are flushed bright red, hair blown back away from your face in tangles, wearing Dean's favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug you so tight that it makes him have a hard time focusing. Your smile breaks something in his chest, spreading warmth and comfort through his body like a wildfire.

Dean can't remember the last time he felt comfort before he met you. When you were with him it felt like home, something that he was missing for so long in his life.

"Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing he-" He barely gets the words out before you throw yourself at him. Dean stumbles back with the force of your tackle as your lips find his, arms wrapping around the back of his neck to grip his bare shoulders and pull his face further down to yours.

Dean falls backward on the bed with you on top of him, the thick volume pressing into his back painfully, but he doesn't feel it all he's aware of is you. How your body feels on top of his, how your lips move together as one, and the soft sounds you make into his mouth when he deepens the kiss and drags his hands down to your hips.

You pull back out of breath, lips bright pink. "I listened to it. I'm so sorry it took me so long."

"You did?" Dean's hands are comfortably seated on top of your hips, squeezing just enough that he knows you're here, you're real, and he didn't fall asleep.

"Yeah, and I didn't want to say this on the phone." Your eyes are bright. "I love you too Dean."

Dean's heart skips a beat, an uncontrollable smile shining from his face with your confession. He can't remember a single solitary moment in which he'd felt so much love, comfort, and happiness surging beneath his skin.

"You do?" He didn't mean to ask it, but the little voice was back spreading doubt.

"Of course I do. It's impossible not to." You lean down to kiss him again, your fingertips flitting over his muscular torso in a way that makes pins and needles trace in their wake. "But I'd like to hear you say it." Your forehead presses against his, hair tickling his cheeks.

"I love you y/n." Dean whispers. He watches the way your blush swells over your cheeks, smile widening with his words. And all he wants is to make you smile like that for the rest of his life, to bask in your glow because you are the sun.

Dean secures his hand at the back of your head and draws you down to him, losing himself in the warmth of your love and the soft promise of what tomorrow would bring.

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

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#spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn fandom #supernatural fandom #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfiction #dean x you #supernatural fanfic series

[savventeen]

you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

#svtsource #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan fic #seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #savv writes #savv fics #in my queue world

[tonyspank]

HEART 3

Summary: And till the very end, it was always heart.

A/N: I HAD TO. also quinn is not really ghost face because i said so (i was too lazy to add her)

Warnings: death, stabbings, murder, rushed writing and.. yeah i think that’s it. Words: 4.5k

Part One Part Two

Tara Carpenter was a good girlfriend. And yes, you two were officially a couple. Everyone knew about it, including Kayla and Frankie.

But you didn’t care about them, you cared about Tara. And she definitely cared about you. Everyday she’d text or call you to see if you were okay if she couldn’t physically do it herself in person. She’d also come to every practice you had, forcing Chad third wheel on the way back home.

And she even invited you over to the ‘core four’ hangouts.

Everyone was fine with it, well everyone except for Mindy. It’s not that Mindy didn’t like you, she just didn’t trust you… enough.

Sam had even told Mindy to get over it, she liked you. That had to mean something, she trusted you with her sister, and she even trusted you herself. Anika liked you, Chad obviously liked you, Ethan liked you, Quinn liked you and she called you a sex magnet but not without earning a glare from your girlfriend.

Even though your girlfriend was great, absolutely magnificent. You didn't get to prepare yourself for what has been happening the past few days.

One of the core four hangouts, also including Anika, Ethan, Quinn, and even the cute boy from next door ended into something horrible. The news had announced that your film study teacher had been murdered, and shortly after that Sam and your girlfriend got attacked by Ghostface at a bodega.

You tried your best to comfort your girlfriend or be there in any way possible.

This is exactly how you found yourself leaning into Tara as Mindy ranted to your friend group about who the killers could be.

"Are you okay?" You mumble into Tara's head, placing a kiss on it. She nods, giving you a small smile before softly grasping your jaw, and placing a quick kiss on your lips. You pull away, returning a smile.

You look away from your girlfriend only to see her sister watching you two, she smiles at you and you return a tight-lipped one, turning back to Mindy.

"Okay! Nerds listen up!" Everyone's chattering stops, and they all look at Mindy.

"As terrifying as this all is, I'm actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time." She says, fixing her shirt.

Chad hums, looking down at his notebook with a pen in his hand.

"It's fine." Mindy takes in a deep breath, "Okay! The way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel." Anika raises her hand, "Um. What's a requel?" You nod along, confused as well.

"You're beautiful sweetie. Let's hold questions to the end." Anika blinks in response, giving her girlfriend a tight-lipped smile.

Sam speaks up, "Stab one took place in Woodsboro. Stab two took place in college."

You see Chad write stuff down in his notebook, as Tara says something beside you. "So we think that the killer is trying to copy the movies?"

"That is one possibility." Mindy answers, "Hero's now in college, check! Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list." Mindy adds, staring at you.

You furrow your eyebrows, looking around as you point at yourself. "Why'd you look at me?"

Mindy ignores you, "And or body count! Check, check, check, and check!"

"I don't like this." Ethan voices, shaking his head you nod in agreement.

"But it just can't be about Stab Two." Tara furrows her eyebrows, "Why not?"

"It would make sense if this was just a sequel, but we're not in a sequel. Because nobody just makes sequels anymore!" Mindy looks at the group, who all have confused looks on their faces.

"We're in a franchise!" She lifts her arms with a smile on her face, "And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise." Anika sighs at her girlfriend.

"I had a feeling," Sam mutters.

"Rule one! Everything is bigger than last time."

You point at Chad's notebook, "Hey, might wanna write this down." He looks at you before hurrying to write in his notebook. "Right!"

"Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count, longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings. You gotta top what came before to keep people coming back."

Chad lifts his head from his notebook, lost. "Beheadings?" Mindy nods, "Beheadings."

"Rule two! Whatever happened last time, expect the opposite. The franchise only survives by subverting expectations. If the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities—," Ethan raises his eyebrows at Mindy's words.

"— You can bet the opposite will be true here."

"Can I guess the next rule?" You speak up, Mindy points at you, "No." You frown.

"Rule three, no one is safe. Legacy characters? Cannon fodder at this point. Usually bought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. It's not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. Oh, and that's not even the worst part!"

"Oh! This is the part where she tells us the worst part." Chad says not even looking up from his notes. "The worst part is! Franchises are just continuing episodic instalments designed to boost an IP. Which means main characters are completely expendable now, too."

"Wait, does Tara count as a main character?" You question, with a frown on your lips.

"Y/N, I've let it go before but you've gotta stop interrupting me, dude!" You thin out your lips in embarrassment.

"Anyways! Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Elen Ripley, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond, I mean, even Luke Skywalker all died so their franchises could live on! That means it's not just the friend group, any of us could go at any time... so yeah Y/N especially your girlfriend and Sam."

Tara and Sam eye each other as Ethan joins in, "Wait? Any of us?"

"Yeah."

"Am I in the friend group?"

"Yeah."

"Am I like, one of the targets?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Am I gonna die a virgin?" Confused looks fill everyone's faces, "Um..." You mumble looking at Tara who just stares ahead, pretending she didn't hear.

"That was a weird overshare... but it brings us to our current suspects. Ethan!" Mindy stands in front of Ethan, a large smile on her face. "The shy dorky guy, who no one expects because he's so shy and dorky!"

"Okay, wait! Why am I on the suspect list because I'm randomly Chad's roommate?"

"Roommate lotteries can be juked." Ethan rolls his eyes, "You could've fixed it to get next to us!"

Mindy then walks over to Quinn, "Quinn! The slutty roommate, a horror movie—," Mindy Gives a Chef's Kiss, "—classic."

"Sex-positive, but... thank you?"

"Mm-hmm. How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" Quinn looks at Sam who nods at her, "I answered their ad online?"

"Okay! Say no more! You've already implicated yourself enough!" Tara immediately speaks up for her roommate. "It was an anonymous ad, Mindy. And you know we vetted her, plus her dad's a cop."

"And that makes it more likely that she's the killer. Because having a cop dad is a great cover! Do you not remember how these movies work Tara!" Tara looks away at Quinn who asks, "Is she always like this?"

Sam tilts her head side to side, "Anika." Anika blows Mindy a kiss, who reciprocates it straight away. "Never trust the love interests." Anika’s face falls blank at her girlfriend’s words.

"Which brings me to Y/N Y/L/N, the star female wide receiver of our college team. Never in a million years would someone suspect you because you're so popular, smart, awkwardly cute, and also randomly dating Tara."

"Are these my suspicions or are you flirting with me?" You joke, a small chuckle leaving your lips. "Mindy we didn't randomly start dating, Chad introduced us… kinda.” Tara defends you.

"It's easy to become friends with Chad, especially if you're on the football team!"

"Hey!" Chad adds in, slightly offended.

"Y/N, weren't you raised in Woodsboro? And didn't you talk about our old friend Amber Freeman before on social media? Or did you think no one here knew about that?"

You frown for the one-hundredth time today. "Mindy, Y/N never wrote those DM's and so what she's from Woodsboro? She has nothing to do with Ghostface." Tara insists, Mindy holds up her hands in surrender at the tone of Tara's voice.

Sam clears her throat, "Okay! So, we have our rules and we have our suspects."

"But wait, wait! What about you guys?" Ethan says, motioning to Chad, Tara, Mindy, and Sam.

"I mean, I think it's pretty safe to rule out the four of us—" Mindy crossed her arms proceeding, "—who went through this last year in Woodsboro."

Chad smiles, pointing his pen at Mindy. "Agreed."

"Um, not agreed," Quinn adds. "What if the trauma you all went through caused one or more of you to snap?" Sam eyes her roommate, shocked.

"Yeah, or the fame you got from the killing made you thirsty for more?" You shake your head at their words.

"Let's be honest here, the theories online about Sam—" Ethan tried to imply, but you cut him off, immediately. "Don't fucking go there, Ethan."

He raises his eyebrows, surprised.

"Okay!" Anika joins in. "She's right though. I mean, face the facts. If we're all suspects, you're all suspects."

Everyone in the group begins eyeing each other, silently.

Well, until you speak up.

"Can we please get something to eat now?"

-

As you said before. You never prepared yourself for what's been happening. Long story short, Anika's dead, and so is Quinn.

And Ethan was not there when it happened.

Then Gale Weathers shows you, your friend group, and an FBI agent a Stab shrine. Was it cool, fuck yeah? Would it have been cooler under different circumstances, fuck yeah!

And then after that, you find out Sam and Tara stole a police car, only to arrive late to their destination so Gale Weathers is now dead.

Ethan was there, but you weren't.

You had extra practice drills. But you were there on the train, being in the same cart as Mindy and Ethan. It felt creepy, and it felt as if Ghostface was right there.

Mindy ended up getting attacked under your watch, well Ethan's as well. Ethan took care of Mindy while you tried your best to make it to Stab's shrine, but you were five minutes behind everyone else.

"When was the last time anyone even used this place?" Tara asks, trying to make small talk with Chad. "It's old."

Chad chuckles, reaching for the small box of candy in front of him, Tara does the same, their hands touching. "Sorry. You can have them."

He tried handing them to Tara, "You think I want these?" They turn, facing each other fully.

"They're like a hundred years old." Tara jokes. Chad laughs, looking down at his feet, and Tara cracks another joke. "Maybe that's your thing?"

It's weird. The tension, the way Chad's staring at her. She looks away, "I actually—"

Chad hastily connects their lips, and Tara kisses back. But she slightly pulls away realizing what she's done.

"I'm sorry— I can't. Um, what about Y/N?" Before Chad could apologize, Tara lets out a shriek feeling a sharp pain in her upper back.

Chad pushes Tara away, his heart dropping seeing the masked killer he's been running away from this entire time. The killer tries to slash Chad but he successfully ducks in time.

Ghostface tried again, but Chad blocks it, throwing them into a movie poster. Glass falls everywhere, and they're now wobbly on their feet. Again they try attacking Chad, only for him to dodge and attempt to throw a punch.

Ghost faces dodges it well, leaning back. Chad takes their moment of weakness to kick them in the stomach and they fall onto the ground, he kicks them again before rushing to Tara's side.

"Come on!" He helps the dark-haired girl up, running towards the exit, only for the door to fly open by Sam. Sam screams along with Tara, "It's Kirby! She's the killer!" Sam informs the group, freaking out.

The trio runs into the middle of the shrine searching for an exit.

Tara points at the upper balcony, "Hey, what about that? There's an exit door! Maybe it leads to the roof or something?" She rushes out at the end.

"It's only one way to find out, let's go! Let's go!" They all walk towards the latter only to be met with a Ghostface jumping from the stage.

Ghost Face missed all three stabs at the group in front of them, dropping their knife. Pulling out another one, they slice whatever's in front of them, only to behead a mannequin.

"Beheading!" Chad shouts. Chad then tackles Ghostface before picking up a camera. "Smile for the camera motherfucker!" He hits the killer with the camera and then runs off with Tara and Sam.

Ghostface then chases the three in a narrow hallway, getting met with a camera to the face again.

Now back where Tara and Chad started, they try their best to fight off the person in the black cloak, Chad dodges all their attacks, while the Carpenter sisters grab their arms pushing them into the wooden counter behind them.

Tara groans hitting her own back as Chad punches Ghostface in the center of their mask.

They fall onto the ground and Tara takes this as a chance to kick them in the face, Chad picks up a gumball machine, holding it above his head, but before he could smash it onto the killer he's stabbed into his side by the second Ghostface.

He lets out a huge shout, and Tara screams ready to run and help, but Sam holds her back. "Nooo! Chad!"

Chad's now on one knee, surrounded by the two killers. They bring him onto both of his knees, facing the siblings, they show no mercy, stabbing him anywhere and everywhere.

Tara lets out another scream, watching Chad bleed out from his mouth until he finally drops out.

The two killers face the girls, wiping off their knives in sync. Sam then opens the door, pushing Tara through. Again, they're in the middle of the shrine. One Ghostface appears through the curtains of the stage, and another appears in their path as they try to escape, motioning "No" with their knife as they shake their head.

Sam picks up two bricks, giving one to her younger sister. "Sam!"

The killers come closer, "Ready." Tara let out small cries, unable to form a word as she had no time to process the death of her friend.

"I need you to be ready. Ready?"

Tara swallows, "Look at me." Sam instructs, she immediately listens looking at her sister. "I'm ready."

"Come on motherfucker!" Tara shouts at the Ghostface in front of her. Before anyone could attack, gunshots are fired. The two Ghostfaces duck down along with the sisters.

"It's okay!" Kirby says, with her gun out. "Stay the fuck back!" Sam yells at the blonde woman, "We know it's you, Kirby." Confusion fills her face, "One— One of them knocked me out."

"Kirby stop! Get away from the girls!" Officer Bailey says, pointing his gone at Kirby.

"What are you doing?" She questions, raising her gun at the man. "Did you kill Quinn? Did you kill my daughter?"

"Jesus Christ! Whatever he's been saying to you don't believe him. He's probably the killer."

Ghostface appears behind Officer Bailey, and Kirby's eyes widen in fear. "Behind you!" Gunshots go off, and Kirby's body drops.

Sam and Tara's mouth drops in shock. And the Ghostface pauses their stabbing motions. Wayne thins out his lips, putting away his gun.

"Good job." All Tara and Sam can do is stare ahead in shock, not believing the sight in front of them. "Both of you."

"You?" Tara mumbles. He shrugs, "Yeah, of course, me. Frankly, I expected more from the two of you after what you did to us."

"What do you mean us?"

The Ghostface on the left of Wayne begins to take off their mask. Revealing none other than the shy dorky boy, Ethan.

"Ta-da!" Wayne chuckles, and Ethan smiles. "Mindy was right! It was easy to juke the roommate lottery. I mean all I had to do to meet you was room with the conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad!"

"Fuck it felt good to kill him!" Ethan yells out, the smile still on his lips. He raises the mask in his hand, "This was your grandmothers Sam. Nancy Loomis? Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? Speaking of family."

"Wait for it!" Wayne buds in, "My names not even Ethan Landry!" Wayne laughs, "Is it, Dad?"

"Dad?" Tara furrows her eyebrows, confused. Wayne continues laughing with his son.

"Wait. If it's you two, that just leaves..." The Ghostface turns its head to Sam, and she believes the worst. "Mindy?"

Ethan looks over to his right, and they pull off their mask. Revealing Tara's girlfriend, you. "Hey, Sam."

You smile at the older Carpenter, "Wow! I really made an impression on you, huh? You thought it was your own friend over me!"

"Y/N..." Tara says, her voice barely over a whisper. "Hey, love." She can't help but let out a cry, eyes watering.

You fake a frown, "Baby."

"Why!" She shouts, letting her emotions take over. "I loved you!"

"And I love it when you cry! You look so pretty." She glares at you through her blurred vision due to the tears in her eyes. "How could you."

"How could I not? It was so easy becoming that fuck heads friend, and it was even easier getting close to you. Literally, all I had to do was fight a drunk frat boy to get you interested in me!"

"Why?" She repeats, and she doesn't know why. You weren't the girl she fell in love with.

"Quinn, still alive. But she didn't want to get her hands dirty so I did it for her. Gale? Me. The two fucking creeps who killed your film study teacher? Me! Chad, well, that was me and Ethan." You laugh, Ethan looks at you smiling.

Sam shakes her head, she couldn't believe she ever trusted you, not only in general but with her sister. She felt guilty and disappointed in herself.

"Oh, and I got Stu Macher's mask. He's pretty funny." You walk away with Ethan, parting in separate ways. Ethan puts Nancy Loomis's mask on the mannequin wearing her clothes, "Nice."

"Which leads," Wayne reaches inside his jacket. "Your fathers." He holds up Billy Loomis's mask, "This what we've been counting down to Sam."

Sam glances at the mask then back at Wayne, "We're gonna need you to put it on." Sam slaps the mask out of his hand, earning a cut to her arm by Ethan.

"Ooh," Ethan says, laughing. You laugh as well watching the scene unfold across the room.

"You stay the fuck away from her!" Sam holds her arm, looking around at the killers surrounding her. "What is this? Why are you doing this?"

"Ethan, they're still not getting it!" The two of you smile at the siblings in front of you. "They should know better."

"Look, I don't know what you believe but I didn't commit those murders in Woodsboro. It wasn't me."

Wayne rolls his eyes, walking closer to the two. "Oh! We know that. Of course, you didn't! What did you think that this was based on some bullshit conspiracy theory? Come on, who do you think started the rumors of you in the first place."

You raise your hand, "It was pretty simple. Especially how you fucking tased the shit out of me in the middle of a frat party."

"It's not enough to kill someone these days, you have to assassinate their character first." He begins, "Dad finds your horribly disfigured body, some poor sap says on the internet Sam took matters into her own deluded hands."

"Exactly! That's why it's the perfect alibi! Based on the truth." Bailey adds on, pointing at Sam. "You're a killer."

Sam aggressively shakes her head, shouting. "No! No, I'm not!" Ethan joins in, "Yes you are you killed my brother!"

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks, unclear of what's going on.

"His brother died in Woodsboro, in the hands of you, Sam. Along with Amber."

Sam looks at you, then Ethan and finally Wayne. "You're Richie's family." Ethan stabs Sam's chest, "Ding! Ding! Ding! She's finally starting to get it!" Everyone breaks apart, and Tara pushes a mannequin out of their way.

"It was only when I saw those photos—" Tara takes a swing at you with a brick, you dodge it easily a jolly smile on your face. "—of what you did, I knew, I knew you had to be punished!" Ethan cuts off Sam’s path to escape, holding a knife to her face.

"Along with anyone else, that stands in our way." Sam looks at the knife with hooded eyes, then back at Ethan. He presses the knife against her throat, "There she is! There's the fucking killer."

"Real great parenting job by the way," Tara speaks up from in front of you, Ethan grabs her angrily. "Shut the fuck up!" He yells, pushing her. You furrow your eyebrows following behind him, why was he using so much strength to push her?

"Have I been the perfect father? No. Overindulged by these movies, it's a bit Too dark for me but Richie loved them, he loved them, he even made a few of his own."

Wayne turns around and Richie plays on the big screen. Walking up the steps to the stage, "Did you know? There's a very special bond between a father and his first son, that's why I helped him build his collection."

"This is was all his?"

"He was a very passionate collector, I built this as a tribute to him which is why this is where you die, you and anyone who had anything to do with the death of my son. Because everyone dies!"

"Yeah, your son. So pathetic," Wayne tilts his head, "What? That's not true."

"He was a man baby, who made his girlfriend do all his killing." You clench your jaw, angrily.

"He was a strong feral young man."

"He was a limp dick little fuck who cried before I slit his throat." Ethan raises his knife, "Shut your fucking mouth!" He runs up to Sam only to be met with a brick to his face, then gunshots are fired and Wayne falls onto the ground. You look at Tara before looking back at Kirby, rushing over to her and stabbing her in her stomach.

She shrieks in pain, causing you to smile. Something hard knocks you upside your head, and you fall to the side with a groan.

Sam removes the knife you plunged into Kirby while you stand up, "Hey, Samie." Sam quickly raises her knife, attempting to stab you in your chest but you block it, grabbing her shoulder and pressing your thumb inside her wound. She yells out, trying her best to overpower you, leaning in she gets close enough and stabs you, swiftly pulling out the knife before repeating multiple times.

"Fuck!" You fall back.

"Sam!" Tara calls out, climbing up the ladder. Sam makes her way to her sister, climbing up as she tries her best to make it to the exit.

The structure under Tara breaks, and Sam immediately grabs Tara's arm. You and Wayne are now back up, laughing at the situation.

"I can't! I can't! I can't grab on!" Tara cries, trying her best to latch onto her sister's arm, but the blood leaking from her wounds is making it nearly impossible.

You jump up at Tara, swinging your knife at her feet. "I thought you loved me, Tara? How could you kiss Chad? I should fucking stab you again!"

"Fuck you!" She seethes, "Fuck you!" You reply. You continue taking swings at your girlfriend's feet, noticing that Ethan has made his way to the balcony.

"You guys are fucked now!" You laugh.

"Sam! Sam. Let me go." Tara lets go of her sister's arm, only being supported by Sam holding onto her. "Sam, let me see my girlfriend!" You shout at her.

"Trust me. You have to let me go." Sam looks at the knife in her belt pocket, taking it out and hanging it to Tara. Tara falls, and you take the chance to stab her in her stomach.

Her face squeezes in pain. You let go of the knife that’s plunged in her stomach knocking out the knife in her own hand, now grabbing both of her hands you pin them above her head. You straddle her, a huge smile on her face.

"Do you remember this position?" Tara tries her best to fight back, but you are obviously stronger than her. She begins to cry again, overwhelmed. You can't help but stare at her, feeling your heart drop. Why were you doing this, especially to her?

"I love you, Y/N. I didn't want to kiss Chad. I wanted you, and I still do. I love you, please—"

"Shut the fuck up!" You switch your hold on her hands to only your right hand, and your left hand shakily reaches for your knife.

Tara lets out small cries, pleading with you.

Your hand hovers over the knife, and you look back at the girl under you. Your eyes begin to water and you notice yourself crying, "I'm— I'm sorry Tara, I'm so sorry!" Due to the emotions you're experiencing, your strength fades away and Tara overpowers you grabbing the knife next to her shoulder, stabbing you in your chest.

She pushes you by the knife and you fall onto your back, taking out the knife, she repeatedly stabs you again.

You watch her, tears coming out of both of your eyes. Your mouth begins to fill with blood, and she stops. "Tar...Tara." You attempt to speak, blood flying, closing her eyes as it splats on her face, replacing the freckles that you loved so dearly.

"The... note." Tara drops the knife beside you, "The n..." You try and repeat, Tara brushes your hair out of your face, uncontrollably sobbing on top of you. Reaching under your cloak, she feels your pockets, reaching inside and indeed finding a note.

Her bloody and shaky hands unfold it, and it reminds her of the night she wrote her first note to you. You send a weak smile, slowly feeling yourself let go.

"hey love, i'm sorry. i know when you're reading this it probably doesn't feel like the rest of this note is true, but it is. as each day passed i would've never thought that with you, i'd feel safe enough to be vulnerable, to share my fears, and to tell you how much i love you.

my love for you grew stronger, deeper, and more profound than i could have ever imagined. i'm sorry again that it had to be this way.

thank you for giving me your time and love, i'll always love you tara.

from y/n—"

"Heart." She finishes with a mumble, her gaze leaving the letter and then landing on you. She breaks down again, rubbing her fingers over your slightly cold face.

"I love you too, Y/N."

#reader insert #jenna ortega x reader #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x reader #scream 6 #scream #scream x reader

[rinhaler]

Think Slow, 'Cause I Move Fast

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Since your recent attack, all Yuuji wants to do is keep you safe at home. But a letter from your parents makes that a little difficult...

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, exhibitionism, semi public, fingering, bullying, drugging mentions, bladder failure mention, vomiting mention, praise kink, brief fainting (ish).

WORDS : 4.5k

notes : the way i am SO invested in this all over again LMAO i sorta ate huh

        LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

You’ve never taken so many days off from your studies in your whole life. It couldn’t be helped, but you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling guilty for taking the Tuesday off. Maybe if you went to class, your punishment from Megumi would have been a lot less severe. With what little time you’ve had to yourself since you awoke from your two-day long slumber, you’ve done nothing but think and overthink. He invited those two girls out from your class and planned the whole thing, knowing they’d do anything he asked. You’re even willing to bet one of those girls was who he was fingering upstairs outside of the toilets. Your memory is choppy, but you remember what they said to you clear as day.

That pill Megumi told us to slip in her drink was really strong, huh?

Every time those words play in your mind you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. How could someone be so evil? You don’t know what you did to warrant this, any of this. It was extreme, it was heartless, and you felt stabbing pangs in your heart as you thought this might be happening until you graduate.

Maybe you should transfer.

Maybe you should leave him, Yuuji, your studies, everything behind.

You finally woke up on Friday, and didn’t know a minute of peace. The police interviewed you, telling you the girls could face up to a maximum of ten years for drugging you. It was sick, however, that it wouldn’t be the case. You were an unreliable source because of your intoxication, and nobody else had witnessed them spiking you.

Of course Megumi got off scot-free since he didn’t actually do it and there was no way you could prove he masterminded the whole thing. The authorities were sympathetic, but it was out of their hands.

Yuuji has barely spoken since the incident. He knows you're too frightened and upset to talk about it for now, but he's at least thankful you were being honest with the police. Even though it came to nothing. He wants to murder Megumi with his bare hands. That is why he didn’t speak. Because all of his energy needed to go into taking care of you, making you feel better. And if he starts talking, if he starts asking questions, he’ll lose all rationale.

He won’t be responsible for his actions or what he would do to his former best friend.

Your insides are raw, you can’t eat, all you can do is sleep. Fragile is the only way to describe your body; each and every movement you make feels like a gargantuan task. Yuuji is running around after you; he's everything in his power to help you through this.

Although he was slightly intoxicated himself when you returned from the club, he managed to sit you in the bathtub while he showered you. He did his best to remove the paint from your body, but his priority was clearing you of vomit and urine, and the vile word that had been smeared across your skin in lipstick. He immediately put your clothes (save for the t shirt that he threw in the bin) in the washing machine and dressed you in loose comfy pyjamas before carrying you to bed. He made sure to keep you on your side with a sick bucket on the floor next to your bedside table.

Gojo stayed for a while, wanting to make sure you were okay, and he wanted to keep an eye on Yuuji . He had no idea what to tell him since he didn’t know what had happened. He managed to keep it together while the pair of them speculated. All he could see in his mind was your frail body being carried by those wonderful women who chose to help you. Your shirt had been cut open with precision, telling him it was a premeditated attack. Somebody brought scissors into a nightclub, they knew they were going to do this to you. He had a niggling sensation that it was Megumi, but he wasn’t sure since he hadn’t seen him at the club. So, the only other people he could think of were those girls, the girls who claimed to be your friend.

He tortured himself for leaving you. He didn’t want to fucking leave you, but he did, because he’s an idiot. He knew he should have stayed with you, something was nagging at him to protect you, but he didn’t. Itadori couldn’t possibly feel any worse, because he should have known better. He did know better, but he ignored his instincts anyway.

He did feel worse again, though, when he woke up the next morning and you were still fast asleep. He didn’t notice the previous night, but in the glittering morning sun peeking through the blinds he saw your neck. He saw the blushing blue blooms, unmistakable finger marks etched into your poor throat. Not only had you been publicly humiliated, but you’d also been outright attacked.

Yuuji encouraged you to tell the police about the attack too, you were sober then, you remembered that Megumi did it to you. But again, it was your word against his. They couldn’t find anyone to corroborate your story. As far as they were concerned there was nothing more they could do.

Everything was hopeless. The system had failed you. You wanted to escape, to leave and never look back. Forget about this whole incident, the worst few days of your entire life and it was all his fault.

It was all Megumi Fushiguro’s fault.

The minute you found some energy, you got yourself out of bed to discover your boyfriend in the front room. He immediately jumps to his feet and to the kitchen so that he could make you a drink. You sit down in the armchair, bringing your legs up and crossing them over one another.

He’s never seen you like this. You’re normally so happy and full of energy, and you're the most glamorous girl he’s ever met. Priding yourself on your fashion and appearance has always been important to you. But Yuuji barely recognises the girl in front of him today. Despite him washing your hair, it was wiry and almost greasy looking. You were paler than pale, he wouldn’t dare say it, but he thought you looked like you’d just been dug up. Your eyes are so bloodshot, he could barely stomach looking at them. There isn’t a patch of white in either of them. The bags under your eyes were so black, he asked you a few times if you remember anyone punching you. You shook your head insistently; you're just so damn tired.

He sets two drinks down in front of you. A green tea and a glass of ice-cold water. He isn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for, so he decided to give you options.

“How are you feeling?” he asks stupidly, knowing the answer.

How were you feeling isn’t a stupid question, because even you didn’t have an answer.

You're happy, happy it seems like you were finally getting over the worst of the drug you’d been spiked with.

You're sad, sad that this had happened to you, and you aren’t sure how much worse things could get.

You're terrified, terrified that despite doing the right thing, despite telling the police what had happened so they could deliver justice to the perpetrators, they’d gotten away with everything and were free to continue making your life hell.

“I’m tired, Yuuji… so fucking tired.” you sigh, resting your forehead in one hand and rubbing your temples.

He knows you're tired, of course he fucking knows.

But your boyfriend feels helpless, he wants to lash out, to yell, to scream even. But he can’t, he can’t because he knows you wouldn’t want any of that. You wouldn’t want him taking the law into his own hands and getting in trouble.

The whole situation is a fucking nightmare.

As your eyes remain shut while you cradle your aching head, a memory pops into your mind. Not about the night, you're sick of remembering that night. But you lift your gaze to find Yuuji’s, and he looks back at you inquisitively.

“Yuuji could you—” and before you’ve even finished talking, he's on his feet, ready and waiting for your instructions, “could you get the letter my parents sent… I forgot to open it.” you request.

Yuuji rushes back with the fancily sealed envelope in record time. He placed it delicately in your hands before returning to his spot on the couch. It feels like a punishment to hold it in your hands. Albeit impossible, you considered whether Megumi had been behind this too. Had he somehow managed to find out who your parents are and mastermind another situation to make your life hell?

Deep down you knew it could only be one of two things.

A cheque, or an invitation. There were two conditions your parents gave you if they were to let you attend a public university rather than a prestigious (pretentious) academy.

You were forbidden from living on campus. They didn’t want to run the risk of anything happening to you in your dorm room or dealing with uncouth roommates. You weren’t sure what concerned them so much about living with other students, but you wonder if they were concerned they’d get you hooked on drugs or perform premarital sex.

At least you’ve never willingly indulged in the former.

But the second condition was they got to choose your place of residence. So that is how you are an unemployed student who can afford to live in a house of her own.

Your rich parents pay for it.

They weren’t too pleased to discover you almost immediately let Yuuji move in with you too, but they didn’t really have a say in the matter. And as far as your sex life was concerned, if they wanted to believe you were still a virgin and weren’t fucking your boyfriend, that was on them.

Peeling off the pretty pink seal seems to take an eternity. You don’t want to know what's inside, Yuuji looks like he's about to burst any minute if you don’t open it quicker. He's on tenterhooks, practically hanging off the edge of the sofa as he waits for you to open it. Once the seal is removed, you look into Yuuji’s eyes. You take a massive gulp as your fingers begin to convulse with fear.

“Do you want me to open it?” He asks, you shake your head.

You softly move the envelope flap upwards, frightened fingers poke inside to grab whatever it contains. Your eyes are screwed shut as you pull it out. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, your brain is pulsing against your skull in anticipation. The dread you feel at the thought of what was on the piece of paper is too much. But before Yuuji can intervene and read it for you, you find the courage to look.

You exhale disappointedly flipping the paper over for Yuuji to see and read.

An invitation.

“So, your folks finally bought a second manor home huh? Must be nice…” he trails off.

“I should have read it sooner, we’re going to have to start packing so we can set off early tomorrow.” you explain as you stand to your feet. But before you can retreat upstairs to your bedroom to begin packing the essentials, Yuuji grabs the flesh of your upper arm and stops you.

“We aren’t going.” he tells you. You look at him curiously, unsure of how he came to that conclusion. It isn’t optional, you would never avoid attending a family event no matter what and he knows that. “You’re still recovering, you get that right? There’s no way we are going.” he adds, earning a smile from you.

“It’ll be fine Yuuji, it’s only for the weekend.” you attempt to alleviate any tension or concerns from him, but he simply shrugs you off and brings your body closer to his so he can stare down into your eyes.

“We aren’t going. I’m saying this for you. It’s too soon, I’m sure if you explain what happened they’ll understand.” he tries to reason with you, to make you see sense. But all you could offer in return to his words is a cruel scoff.

“You’re not serious? If I tell them, they’ll enrol me into a different school, they just need one excuse. I don’t want anyone to know, I’m embarrassed enough. I don’t want this, want him to rule my life Yuuji. I want to go to my parents’ housewarming party and forget the whole thing.” you tell him sternly, freeing yourself from his hold and continue your journey to the bedroom.

“But—”

“I mean it Yuuji. We are going whether you like it or not,” you spit as you turn to face him once again, “I’d appreciate your support right now. I just want to feel normal, so please, come and help me pack.”

You look at him as his face droops. He looks devastated and you truly feel for him. He's beating himself up over what happened, and you couldn’t do or say anything that would ease his guilt. He's doing everything he can to make it up to you, to make up for his own self-appointed shame, all he wants to do is protect you, but it seems he can’t do anything right. So, he relents.

“Okay."

The car ride to your parents’ new address is painful. You set off ridiculously early so that you’d be there on time. And by on time, you mean early. Because being on time would in fact be being late.

The biggest reason Yuuji doesn’t want to attend is to protect you after your attack. But it certainly didn’t help matters that he hates going to see your parents. He’s only met them a handful of times, and they are nice enough, but he knows they look down their noses at him and don’t think he's good enough for you. It shouldn’t matter that he isn’t from a wealthy family, he loves you and would do anything for you.

He’d probably die for you.

And that should be enough to prove that he’s worthy of your love.

It’s enough for you, and that’s all you care about.

You opt to wear a black and white pinstripe pantsuit. You know no matter what you wear your mother will have something to say about it, so you do your best to dress comfortably yet sophisticated.

Yuuji is dressed nicely too, he thought the comfy, yet sophisticated look was the right move too, and since he knows your parents disapprove of him it wouldn’t matter what he wore.

He's dreading the snide comments all weekend, it would never cease, but as long as he has you by his side, he knows you can both get through it.

He has one hand on the wheel and one on your thigh, he's gripping awfully tight. You suspect a combination of nerves and an overwhelming desire to protect you. When you’re right around the corner of the entrance of your parents’ house, you decide to apply a fresh layer of gloss. You don’t expect Yuuji’s fingers to begin wandering their way towards your sex, so you yelp at the feeling of his pinkie finger slowly tracing over your clothed clit.

“Take em off,” he demands.

Your heart is racing, you aren’t sure what you should do. You want it, you want him. You love his touch, you love him, you want to be with him and feel normal. But you’re right outside of your parents’ house. You don’t have time and it isn’t wise. But before you can answer him, he’s delved his fingers down your pants and is awkwardly rubbing your clit with the irritating obstruction in the way.

“Off.” he tells you again. You ask him to pull over, so he does. It isn’t anywhere hidden, but he doesn’t have time for that. He just wants to make you feel good before you go inside.

You lower your trousers and underwear just enough to give him access. You do your best to keep the volume down, but he feels so good. These few days have been the longest you’ve gone without being intimate with Yuuji. And you’re tense, fuck you’re so tense. He can feel it in the way you’re holding back, the way you don’t want to let yourself go. Because all he’s doing is lightly tracing your sensitive bundle of nerves and you’re already dying to cum.

“Yuuji…” you half gasp half moan at him, screwing your eyes closed as one of your hands grips the arm he’s using to pleasure you and the other is digging nails into the back of your head rest.

“You wanna cum? ‘m not stoppin’ you baby. Cum for me.” he instructs.

And it’s humiliating, really, how submissive your cunt is to its owner. You’re gushing around his gentle fingers as more and more slick pumps out of you. Your chest is heaving, but he leans over to you to kiss your cheek.

He demands that you face him so he can kiss you through your orgasm.

He wants to swallow your moans and remember what a good girl you are for him.

When you finally relax, you’re almost furious. Furious that you’re dripping wet and you’re going to have to ruin your panties and probably your trousers too. Furious that you won’t be able to clean up instantly because you’ll have to socialise for a while with your family, and furious that Yuuji was stupid enough to think any of this was a good idea.

But when you see him sensually lick his fingers clean, you can’t deny the way your pussy jumps at the sight. He’s so fucking perfect. His innocent face performing such a lewd act excites you. You’re so lucky to have him. Because after he finishes cleaning his fingers, he opens the glove compartment on the passenger side and reveals a packet of baby wipes for you to clean yourself up with. He cups the crown of your head and brings you closer to him, leaving a simultaneously hard yet soft kiss on your forehead, and whispering sweet nothings into your hair.

“Such a good girl f’me baby. Y’look so pretty when you cum for me. ‘m so fuckin’ proud of you.” he murmurs into your scalp.

It takes everything inside of you to not unzip his trousers and suck him off to show him just how much you fucking love him. But instead, you hurriedly clean the slick from your folds and Yuuji finally turns into the driveway of your parents’ new estate.

And holy shit.

You didn’t think a house could possibly be bigger than the first.

They deemed the previous butler worthy of staying, apparently. He's a nice man who shows you and Yuuji to where everyone is located. The house is baron, which seems ridiculous to you. What’s the point of having a housewarming party if no one is going to be in the house?

Instead, everyone is situated in the garden. You can’t spot your parents immediately. But there are a lot of familiar faces. Not family friends, although that’s what your mother and father will claim they are.

No, they were nothing but names.

Big names to spread the word about what a beautiful new home your parents have. There is no point in having a new manor house unless your parents can brag about it.

But you do eventually spot them. And a man who you could only see the back of. He's tall, likely around 6’4” in height. He's moving his arms while your parents look at him with an intense gaze, he's story telling. He's well built, extremely large and muscular. It's unusual to you that he's dressed so casually.

You're curious as to how your parents know him, he doesn’t look like the type of person they would allow into their social circle.

And you didn’t recognise him at all.

They all reposition themselves onto a nearby table, Yuuji stands with you as you watch the conversation unfold. You're totally enraptured by the way they converse with each other. And then the stranger sits down. He sits down and gives you the perfect view of the right side of his face.

When you see his profile you just about fainted. Yuuji catches you in his arms as other party goers look concerned. Your parents have finally noticed you, now, and rush over to see you, the man follows, and there's no mistaking him.

While your parents approach with a hastened pace, he almost dawdles behind them. Yuuji lowered you to the ground while everyone fusses around you, asking what was wrong and if you need some water. But you have a clear view of him as he carries on coming towards you.

His hair is black as the night sky in a small country town. It isn’t awfully long, but longer than any other respectable guest who is here today. It looks soft and shiny, but it knew to settle and not move around too much. His green eyes glisten in the sparkling sunshine, and you can see another set of green eyes so vividly in your mind. A pair of green eyes that made your heart race and send sheer terror through your entire being. But what gives it away, what really gives it away, iss the scar.

That fucking scar on the right side of his mouth. It looks old, like he’d had it for years. It's so striking, and that is how you knew there was no mistaking.

It was him.

It was the man from Megumi’s sketchbook.

It takes you a while to calm down after everyone had been fussing over you. But Yuuji had hooked his arms underneath you so he could carry you to a nearby chair.

Your mother snaps her fingers and demands a member of staff instantly get you a drink. Your father dismisses everyone and tells them to continue enjoying the function, he towers over you while your mother crouches on the balls of her feet and strokes your hands.

Yuuji is behind you, circling your shoulders with his thumbs in an attempt to soothe you.

And then there's him.

He's sitting on the same table as you, not paying too much attention to you but wanting to stick around to see that you were okay.

When you have a glass of water in your hand, you down it in just a few seconds and request another. Water dribbles down the sides of your mouth which your mother quickly dabs with a handkerchief.

You were breathe so heavily and so gravelly.

Your mother looks furious at your lack of manners but didn’t want to make a scene in front of the guests. Your gaze is fixed on the man you’d only seen in drawings, he put his phone into his pocket as he decides to give you all his full attention.

“Nice to see ya again kid,” he smiles, the little scar on his lips pulling so deliciously.

You’re certain you’ve never met him, so you were dumbfounded that he claimed to remember you. You didn’t have the energy to speak, it was like something had robbed you of your words.

Your lips open wide enough to speak, but whatever words you’d planned on forming died dead in your mouth when you heard words coming from behind you instead.

“Yeah it’s been a while Mr. Fushiguro, didn’t expect to see you here, sir.” Yuuji replies.

Of course.

Of course Yuuji would know who the mystery man is in the drawings. He’s Megumi’s best friend after all, or he was. Mr. Fushiguro, the name alone made your skin crawl.

Another one of him.

Your mouth is agape, your eyes finding the unknown relative of Megumi’s. He waves his hand around, totally brushing Yuuji off.

“Cut that crap out now kid,” he begins, “call me Toji.” he tells him. Yuuji nods, acquiescing to his request. And then Toji’s eyes find yours. You felt so small under his gaze. “And I haven’t seen you since you were… Four, maybe?” he tells you.

“I- uh…” you clear your throat, “I don’t know you.” you admit.

He laughs, really laughs. You guess he appreciates your honesty. He crosses one leg over the other as he begins to swing back in his chair.

“Don’t sweat it. I’m not one to remember someone’s name either.” he confesses, studying you. He does know you; he really knows you. He’s so comfortable to stare at you and examine you. You want to know how he knows you; you want to inquire as to what relation he is to Megumi, but before you can speak Yuuji talks from behind you once again.

“Are the rest of the Zen’in clan here?” he wonders, his grip of your shoulders tightening.

“Unfortunately,” he responds, your father jostles his elbow into him playfully which makes Toji grin. “They’re around somewhere, more are probably on their way.” he explains. Yuuji nods before leaning down to you, his mouth close enough to your ear that his breath alone forces goosebumps to pinch and form across your whole body,

“We have to go, now.” he buzzes to you.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he grabs your hand and drags you away from the table. You both say your polite goodbyes before heading through the manor again. Your parents are dumbfounded, and worse, disgusted at Yuuji’s abrupt rudeness.

“What’s going on Yuuji?” you ask. But he ignores you, pulling you in the direction of the front door.

He swings it open, and you’re both as still as statues. Of all the places, of all the places in the fucking world…

You’re both staring out of the door, and now that you’ve seen Toji in person, the resemblance is striking.

Megumi’s finger is rested on the doorbell he’s holding in. When the three of you break out of your trances, the raven-haired man in front of you clears his throat.

His face doesn’t change. He looks bored, and you hate him for it. It’s that same static facial expression he always has. It’s the way he somehow manages to keep getting away with murder. Because no one would ever believe that this quiet, almost silent person keeps making your life unbearable. His vision rolls between staring at you and then staring at Yuuji. But finally, he’s settled on you.

His eyes are almost as intense as the other Fushiguro’s out in the garden. His lip’s part, and his words make your skin crawl.

“Well well. What do we have here?”

© 2021 fuwushiguro | © 2023 rinhaler

#megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #megumi angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #fushiguro megumi angst #megumi fushigruo x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #tw praise kink #yuji itadori #yuuji itadori #itadori yuuji #itadori yuji #yuuji smut #yuuji itadori smut #yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori x you #tw bullying #bully megumi #tw drugging

[woneuntonzz]

what's it like to love ? 𓇢𓆸

anton lee x afab!reader (part 1/5)

• part 2

• part 3

• part 4

• part 5

warnings: cussing!

genre: fluff -`♡´- highschool love

word count: 4.5k words!!

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ description: student athlete!anton x studious class officer!reader | you swore to yourself, to you friends and even to your parents “I'm not one to easily fall.” and you thought you were that tough, not until him of course.

[note!!: hiii i'd just like to quickly say that this is my first ever post ever and i'm still a bit insecure with my writing, and english is not my first language so bare with me now 🙏 open for any forms of feedback

please do take note that i will take longer to update/respond to anything because of school, thank you!!! ]

Anton's that one guy in your class that's very soft spoken —literally. But he wasn't the total loser type, in fact, the other guys in your class are very drawn to him. You figured, maybe it's because he's a student athlete and guys think he's cool for being so good at what he does, or maybe he does have a very likable personality, but you wouldn't know. You weren't curious enough to get to know him then.

The only conversations and interactions the two of you have had are for academic purposes. He was your groumate for a group report once, you took the liberty of being the group leader that time. He was responsive and he did his parts for the report, the only thing he never did was give feedback or be more open to share his opinions. You thought it was a bit odd, since at that time you have been classmates since freshman year.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Hey Y/n, Anton requested to not talk for the report. He said he might not be loud enough.” one of your classmates who was also your groupmate for the report told you just about an hour before reporting.

“Oh, okay, that's fine.” was all you could utter as you glanced over at Anton's seat.

You could've sworn you saw him looking at you before you had set your eyes on him, but you just shrugged it off and got ready for the report.

You, your other groupmate, and Anton were all standing in front of class. Your voice dominated the room and it seemed that all of your classmates were listening or were at least being respectful, everything seemed to be going as planned. And you were relieved that your report was successful and your group was given a decent grade for your report and its contents.

It's the end of the day and you are getting ready to go home. You were gathering your things and tidying up when you saw some of the guys in your class gathered in a clump at the back.

“Y/n carried.” you heard one of the guys say making you playfully roll your eyes with your back facing them. You knew they were teasing Anton.

“Anton did good too.” This time, your other groupmate for the report spoke.

“Yeah, he's pretty good at staring at Y/n—” 

“I did my part, shut up.”

You stood next to your desk, back still facing the boys. Your eyes were wide open. You didn't know where to react at first, what one of the guys just said about staring at you or the fact that Anton's voice was loud enough to make you take a thick breath of the almost-empty classroom air. 

It got quiet for a short while that felt like an hour to you, and they were probably minding your presence, so like a reflex, your feet sped out to your locker. Your mind was suddenly flooded with questions. You felt conflicted to say the least, you didn't even know if you just misheard everything. You started loading your locker with the stuff you had intended to put away when you received a tap on your shoulder. 

You turned your head and felt your face warm up a bit. 

“H-hi Y/n.” 

“Anton.” Anton gulped at the sound of his name being emitted by your voice.

“Umm, I- well. Uh…” he cleared his throat, his eyes shifting around, never meeting yours, not even by chance. You widen your eyes from anticipation, encouraging him to carry on, not that it mattered since he wouldn't even look at your face. “I'mreallysorryforwhatmyfriendsaidokaythanks.”

And like a flash, he was already on his way out of the school building. You found yourself sighing at the situation. But since then, you've never been able to look at Anton without thinking about that very moment.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It's been months since then. You've been wanting to try and get to at least be on casual convos during class breaks terms with him, but you can't pin-point whether it's you who can't keep up with him, or if it's just him avoiding you entirely.

You tried to catch his attention once by glancing at him nonstop all day during class and breaks, but to your dismay, he was stiff as a statue. You knew that he was aware, it was all too obvious. He wasn't as active as he normally was, he would just stay in his seat and would sometimes rest his head on his desk, using his right arm to hide his face from your sight with his forearm resting at the top of his head. He would only get up from his chair to go to the restroom or to eat lunch at the cafeteria, and when he does get up, he's always facing away from you. 

You left empty-handed at the end of the day, you even missed a day's worth of notes that you deemed necessary. 

“Why did I do that? now I have to revisit textbooks for notes.” your best friend chuckled from the other side of the line while you propped your head on your hand.

“You know it's bad when he's got the Y/n missing her notes and not listening to class.” you gave your best friend a blank stare as he cackled on.

“What do I do Sohee?” you blinked a couple of times before he was able to respond.

“I don't really know. I can't really imagine myself in your shoes right now.” your shoulders drooped down at his wry tone. “What? you were the one who helped me get with Xen.”

“Dude Xen is literally my best friend too. I know her well enough to give you some tips and I've known you since we were kids so helping the two of you out was nothing really.” Sohee gave you a flat smile, shrugging his shoulders.

“Anton is my friend too, we're definitely not as close as you and me but maybe I can tell you some things…” his voice faded into the air towards the end of his sentence and you weren't sure if you caught on everything he just said.

“What is it?” your tone made you sound eager and desperate making Sohee grin. “Stop. Just talk and wipe that smug look off of your stupid face.”

Sohee coughed slightly, clearing his throat. He took a small breath before speaking. “From the stories you've told me about the quote interactions you've had with him, he's being weird a-f.”

You furrowed your brows, leaning a bit more into your phone's screen with so much anticipation.

“Well… not to make you overthink, but, he has something going on.” Sohee gave you the same innocent, flat smile as if he didn't trigger an alarm in your brain.

“What? I don't get it, what does it have to do with me?” you urged to which Sohee kept the same expression just staring at you through his phone screen. “What the fuck Sohee.”

“Girl, calm down.” you rolled your eyes, your back falling onto the backrest of your desk chair as you bored holes into Sohee's soul. “The 'something' is about you.” 

Your face went blank again. Your eyes settled on the floor to your left, lost in thought.

“Girl, are you there?” Sohee was waving his hand in front of his phone until you finally looked back at him.

“Is it a bad kind of 'something'? I could've sworn I've done a decent job staying nice to everyone even though Jihoon and his friend lowkey pissed me off for being such pains in the ass in our group thesis.” Sohee started cackling again.

“I don't know man. I think this is for the two of you to figure out yourselves.” you were about to speak when he slightly jumped from his seat. “Okay Xen is calling me, love you bestie, bye!”

Soon, you were left staring at the void that is the black screen of your phone. 

You found it hard to sleep and for a good hour, you were just staring at the ceiling, trying your best to put yourself to sleep, but whenever you closed your eyes, memories of him avoiding you kept replaying in your head.

————— ୨୧ —————

You were dead-set on letting your thoughts rest, determined to ease your mind and figure out what could've possibly caused Anton to ignore your existence. Does he hate you? Is he scared of you? Or is he somehow feeling some other way about you and now he's just trying to run away from it? —even thinking about the latter makes you mentally slap yourself in the face, but who can blame you? The past few months have been confusing and it's been bothering you a lot like an itch in your brain.

Despite the lack of sleep, you were devoted to being an early bird and went to school at your usual time. You got straight into catching up with yesterday's notes. Your desk had a small stack of textbooks and your pens and highlighters scattered, not too far from each other. 

You tried to concentrate but found yourself glancing at Anton's seat frequently, and having to erase, rewrite and white-out the things you were trying to jot down. 

Soon, your eyes were shut, and so were your consciousness. 

You were awakened by a hand placed atop of your head. You were expecting it to be one of your friends, or maybe it was Anton. You hated yourself for even thinking that. You felt the drool down the side of your chin. You frantically wipe it with your hand, your face still hiding from the scene that was awaiting you.

Finally lifting your head up, you see everyone darting their eyes at you. It was such an overwhelming feeling. You look up, feeling the presence standing next to you. It was your English teacher who had placed her hand on your head to gently wake you up. She smiled at you, worry still apparent in her eyes. She glanced over at your notebook that was left with tiny scribbles and unfinished notes, your scattered pens and whatnots, and the forgiving pile of textbooks resting just above your notebook. 

“We're about to start class, but I'll let you continue with that Miss Y/n.” The soothing voice of your teacher allowed you to calm down as she made her way back to the front to greet everyone again.

Everyone, including you, stood up to greet her back. Your 3 hours of sleep caught up to you quicker than you thought. You felt fatigued and it frustrated you. You have gone hours without sleep but had never felt this weak before. As everyone sat down, you felt a pair of eyes on you. You felt stupid for turning your head so quickly to whoever's eyes it was, because it was him. Your eyes met, suddenly your tired eyes softened. It took a good minute before you two eventually broke eye contact. 

Your face felt hot and you found yourself eyes wide open, listening to your teacher discuss the lesson of the day, actively taking notes like you always did. It was all for the means of trying to push away the feeling and image in your head that kept replaying the way he blinked slowly as he looked into your eyes and looked down before turning his head away from you.

What you weren't able to catch was how he scanned through your features, that even with a slightly swollen face as a result of your prolonged nap, you still looked surreal. 

He tried to push his worry at the back of his mind. When he walked in the classroom earlier that day, you were already passed out on your desk. Usually you'd be talking with your friends from the other class just outside the classroom before class starts or you would be sitting on your seat and cramming schoolwork or studying for a test. He grew more and more concerned as the ringing of the school bell inched closer and closer and you were still fast asleep. Your head shifted a bit causing one of your pens to roll off of your desk. Anton was quick to pick it up, quietly placing it on your desk. Everyone else in the classroom seemed to not be minding the both of you, the final exams were approaching, everyone was busy finishing what they had to. Anton found his hand hovering over your hair. He wanted to wake you up, in fact, he needed to. But the bell caught up to him, and the next thing you know, your English teacher was the one who woke you with what he had envisioned. 

Throughout the day, you just sat nicely on your seat, finishing the notes you missed the previous day during breaks and attentively listening to your teachers and taking notes during class.

During lunch time, you still had your eyes glued to your math textbook while writing down notes in your notebook. The classroom started to empty itself, the students heading to the cafeteria to get themselves full.

“Y/n, are you almost done? Have lunch first. You've been there since you got here.” you look up to see Xen and Sohee, hands linked, both giving you a warm smile.

“Go ahead. I'll follow, just have to try and understand this equation.” Xen pats your head lightly with a soft chuckle.

“Okay, we'll wait for you.” Xen says softly before leaving the room with Sohee.

The sound of the soles of your shoes continuously hitting the tiles beneath your feet filled the room as your right leg began shaking out of frustration and the struggle of not being able to comprehend the math problem you were met with. You were never good at math, at least when you entered highschool. You could've sworn you were that math genius in class who always had an answer for everything back in your elementary and middle school days, and yet, here you are now with your eyebrows nearly touching and your lips forming a slight pout because of math. You didn't know what it was, but your eyes landed on Anton's seat drawn to it like a bee to a field of flowers. Maybe it was because you were getting impatient with yourself not being able to figure out this one math problem, but you were not expecting Anton to be sitting there in his seat, facing you. 

He looked away, you could kind of see his body growing tense as he breathed in, eyes shifting around on the floor. 

“Why are you still here?” you ask nonchalantly. 

It took a while to get any kind of response from him, so you just went back to staring at the other problem you were dealing with. 

“I-I can help you with —with that… if you want….” your eyes grew larger after hearing his soft voice above you.

He stood next to you, eyeing what you have been struggling on for quite a while now. 

“I just don't understand.” you blurt out. 

Anton flinched a bit at the clear frustration reflected in your tone. He grabbed a chair nearby and hesitantly sat next to you, keeping a great distance. It wasn't long until he was able to take a grasp of the problem, what took long was for him to muster up the courage to speak up.

When he was finally over his contemplation, you beat him to it. But as soon as the air from your voice hit the corners of his ear, his eyes landed at the back of his hands that were peacefully settled on his lap. What you blurted out next was not in his list of expectations. “Do you hate me?” 

He was stuck frozen in his seat. He was bummed. He knew he messed it up. He wanted to ask why you would even think that, but he was aware of his actions for the past few months, he just didn't realize how badly it affected you. He thought you never cared, but he never knew you were just that good at hiding it. He felt bad, but also didn't want to assume your thoughts or feelings. Sure, he had memorized the features of your face and how your eyes would glisten against the harsh sunlight seeping through the classroom windows, how your brows would furrow every time you heard or witnessed something cringey, how your lips would subconsciously form a pout whenever you were concentrated on something, and your voice, he loved it the most. The first time he heard a melody slip out of your tongue he thought an angel was coming to retrieve him, and your laughter, he can't help but smile so fondly whenever he replayed it in his head. He admired your confidence and ability to connect with others despite stating in your first day introduction that you were the epitome of introverted. But it was all surface level stuff for him, he still didn't quite understand you fully, and he wanted to. He was undeniably love-struck.

Realizing how quiet it had been for a lengthy couple of minutes, you sighed. “I'm sorry for being so sudden with this —It's just, did I do something wrong? Am I just assuming that you've been avoiding me? or were you really avoiding me? Why so?”

Anton watched as you let your frustrations fire out like you were being chased, breathy tone and all. He hated himself for being oblivious of the fact that he had you feeling this uneasy.

“I like you.” he never thought he'd be able to utter these very words to you ever. 

It was dead silent. You turned your head to the side, looking for his eyes and you felt delighted to meet them again. You scanned his features, was he always this beautiful? —you ask yourself. You noticed the shift of color in his cheeks making you chuckle. Anton's eyes widened, his shoulders lifting itself slightly.

“You're not just saying that, right? you mean it?” your mellow and warm tone taunted his ears and he couldn't help but look away and smile.

“I mean it.” he urged softly. 

The two of you mindlessly wandered in each other's eyes, and soon, the gap between the two of you came to a close. His lips felt so warm and velvety. You felt a sweep of hot air hit your lips. Anton pulled away leaving a small distance between the two of you, looking down on your lips, gradually making his way to your eyes that had just fluttered open when his lips parted from yours.

“Y/n? your food's getting co—” Xen's calling ended with a gasp as she stood by the door being met with the sight of Anton just inches away from eating your face.

“What's going… on.” At this point, Anton was facing away from the door, looking down the floor once again with his hand behind his neck while you were left just sitting there with your eyes almost popping out of your head just staring at the couple standing by the door of your classroom eyeing the two of you.

“Um—uh, sorry. I'm just gonna fix my stuff.” The absence of clarity in your tone was evident and you can hear the soft giggles from Xen and Sohee along with some exchanged whispers.

“We're gonna head back. We'll be expecting you there, yeah?” Sohee glanced over at Anton who was now standing up. “You too Ant.”

Xen and Sohee flee from the scene while you struggled with putting away your stuff with your shaky hands, your notebook ended up slipping from your hand which Anton attempted to catch, but failed in the process. A small laugh escaped your mouth, you found this little action of his adorable. He couldn't help but smile sheepishly, mumbling a little apology for his poor attempt of saving your notebook from hitting the ground. 

When the two of you got to the cafeteria, you only had 15 minutes left to finish your food. You sat down next to Xen who was exchanging looks with Sohee.

“Ant, dude sit here, would you?” Anton stopped in his tracks on the way to get food when Sohee held him by his forearm.

Anton's eyes subconsciously found their way into yours again, quickly breaking it after the scene from earlier flashed before his eyes. “Yeah sure.” he murmured quietly, nodding and speeding to go get food to hide his flushed face.

You felt some heat climb up your cheeks. You could still feel the warmth of his lips against yours like a phantom. 

The outcome of the confrontation was not what you expected at all. You wanted to approach things with a go-with-the-flow mindset even with how troubled you were with everything going on. You expected him to just be sorry and shy away from you, but the sudden confession drowned your head with thoughts. Do you like him too? The feeling that guided you to that very situation was the feeling of guilt, confusion and slight despise, but now, you just didn't even know how to function properly without thinking about him. It was all so sudden, but you were thankful that this 'something' he had involving you was not driven by negative feelings.

When Anton sat across from you, you looked up at him. You saw his adam's apple bob up and back down. When you heard Xen clear her throat that's when you realized that you've been staring at Anton for the past five minutes, at his lips to be more specific.

Anton flicked his tongue over his top lip, needless to say, he is far from recovering from what had just occurred in your classroom earlier. He could feel your eyes on him, and deep down he was wondering, does she like me too?

Later that day, you took the liberty of asking Anton for his number, his Line i.d., Kakao, anything. 

Anton stood with his back facing his locker and you in front of him. Despite the ridiculous height difference and the fact that you've been looking up at him the entire time, he treated the situation as if you were some jock and he was this sweet and nerdy girl.

“I brought you here to ask for your contacts, and maybe, we can talk about today —well, about everything.” Anton was a bit shocked since he was the one who confessed, he was the one with the overbearing feelings, yet you still had to be the one to break the walls to reach him.

“Yeah, jus' —here.” He hurriedly gave you his phone.

His ears had been red the entire time, but then his face turned red too seeing your soft eyes look up at him without moving your head. You laughed which made him smile but at the same time, confused. 

“You have face ID on your phone?” you asked casually.

Anton hastily nods his head right after he finally realizes it. You held his phone up to his face, and it opened, but then he snatched his phone away from you the moment the screen lit up.

“Sorry, I just… uh —here.” he hands you back the phone, now with his line account open. 

You quickly sent him a friend request that you accepted as soon as you saw it pop up on his phone. Then you exit the line app. 

Silence…

Anton was staring at you, wide-eyed, and you were staring at his phone, also wide-eyed. His homescreen wallpaper is a photo of you, a photo you did not know the existence of. You went on to check for his phone number like your hand wasn't getting shaky at that point. You give him back his phone once you're done with everything.

“Thank you, Anton.” Anton could've been easily mistaken for a fire hydrant because of how red he became, and hearing you say his name so softly, hearing you talk to him, finally, it felt like he was going to implode right then and there.

You turned around to make your way to the exit, you went two steps forward before you were stopped by Anton's unassuming voice. “I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry.”

You wanted to turn around and tell him that he has plenty to be sorry for, but given his seemingly true intentions, maybe, just maybe, he would make it up to you without you uttering a single word about it.

“Hey, it's fine. Well, not really —or, yeah. Let's just talk about this later.” you faced him as you spoke, ending your sentence with a weary wave.

He watched you walk out the school building, hands gripping on your backpack's straps. 

The moment Anton got home, he immediately took a shower, changing into comfier clothing. He already had his phone in his hand with his line messages open. He stared at your contact and thought of how he should open a conversation with you. He sat at the edge of his bed, typing and deleting messages over and over again.

You were lying on your bed already during all of this. You watched his typing status appear and disappear, and then reappear again.

Anton shifted around on his bed and eventually found himself lying on his stomach, his feet touching and raised up in the air refusing contact with his bed.

You bit your bottom lip, holding back a smile even if it made no sense for you to do so since you were all alone in your room and you doubt that Anton could see you through his phone screen.

Though Anton appeared to be shameless with his messages, the heat and color of his face says otherwise. 

Anton watched your typing status appear, and it remained there. He didn't know if it was because of the rapid beating of his heart but you've been typing for a long time, which you were.

You were carefully thinking of what to say next. But then you thought for a moment, shouldn't he be the one to keep talking? He had a lot to explain after all.

At this point you were flushed as well. You found his endearing quirks in chat to be cute and humorous.

Maybe this is why his friends are so fond of him —you thought as you glanced over your exchanged messages with a smile.

Anton now laid flat on his back. He quickly turned off his phone, his cheeks remaining the same hue as it was when you two started messaging. He smiled at the thought of you two finally having an actual conversation. Though he never thought it would be about his unforeseen confession, he still felt so lucky, so warm inside that he could finally push forward with his feelings. Anxiousness would soon follow moments after he had closed his eyes. He was sadly still far from feeling redemption. He started nit-picking his own thoughts of the many ways he can make it up to you, and maybe he gets to call you his by the end of it. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

#riize #riize x reader #riize anton #anton lee #riize fluff #riize fanfic #new author #riize au #Spotify #briize

[5eraphim]

You mentioned in the past that you thought yandere medic would be okay with sharing y/n with another person. How do you think that would go? maybe with heavy, since they’re so close? (If you aren’t doing request rn feel free to ignore this <3 have a good day )

anon,, my sweet beloved and treasured above all loving sentiment, if only you knew how long I've awaited this very ask....

I teased this idea way back (here, the first part obvi.). I've gone back and forth about going for it and writing out the prompt in full, as I think it would be very, very... enticing, and another one of those things I would love to read which must unfortunately start with a blank word doc. I wound up writing this to be rather light-hearted, but if anyone wants to see this scenario played out a bit darker, I'm open to the request!

But additionally, I know myself well enough as a person, and didn't really want to go through all that effort unless if was for a request, or unless I knew it would be for me and at least one other reader, because it feels only natural a multiple character x reader one shot should be long enough to give each character a decent enough feature, thus will (safe to say) always be much longer, and take much longer to write, than a regular x character oneshot. (If that makes any sense?) Anyhow, that's all to say, thank you, thank you, thank you ever so kindly for the ask, I really hope you enjoy how this came out, it was a pleasure to write. <3

Characters: The Heavy 🐻 and The Medic 🕊️ (Team Fortress 2)

Summary: Drunkenness and tenderness between comrades lowers inhibitions, let's hope your ambitions will rise to compensate.

Rating: X (MINORS DNI, YOU KNOW THIS ISN'T FOR YOU)

Content Warnings: AFAB reader, smut, three way, oral (female receiving), first time, size difference, slight intoxication, dubcon (nothing too intense, but for the sake of intoxication/slight coercion), heavymedic sandwich.

Word Count: 4.5k

MASTER POST

TIP JAR

(Song Inspo: Delicate Weapon- Grimes)

"when I say eat me, I mean suck the bones clean, leave nothing for the waiting, leave nothing for the vultures, or the travelers to come." “vivisection (you’re going to break my heart)” by Marty McConnell from The Best American Poetry 2014, edited by Terrance Hayes and David Lehman.

While the mission wasn't technically over yet, the work for the day was, and thank God for that. The job was simple enough, nothing more than a little errand run, fetching some supplies to bring back to home base, not necessarily requiring the combined efforts of you, Heavy and Medic. Still, when you were requested to accompany the two, you immediately agreed. So while the work bored you, the company would make it all worth it. 

While the mission wasn't technically over yet, the work for the day was, and thank God for that. The job was simple enough, nothing more than a little errand run, fetching some supplies to bring back to home base, not necessarily requiring the combined efforts of you, Heavy and Medic. Still, when you were requested to accompany the two, you immediately agreed. The work bored you, but the company made it all worth it. 

The road down was straightforward enough, and collecting the supplies was just as effortless, but the trip back was less so. A sudden and severe thunderstorm forced the lot of you to find a room for the night to accommodate all three of you and your cargo. Along with a few beers picked up along the way, a little treat to celebrate a hard day's work. While typically, you knew drinking on the job wasn't professional, this was a special occasion, and you knew it would be back to work once you returned home, so you might as well enjoy it while it lasted. Finding a suitable room big enough for all of you on such short notice was a miracle, but this place suited you well.

Two double-wide beds, a radio, an armchair, a couch, and a little kitchenette with an ice box to keep the beer nice and cold while you took turns changing in the bathroom out of work clothes and washing up a little. You took the initiative to contact Homebase regarding the delay. 

A part of you was so tired you wanted to crawl into bed right away, but you weren't about to deny yourself a nice cold beer with friends. To your surprise, Medic sat in the armchair beside the couch while Heavy sat on the sofa, leaving the only open space to unwind next to Heavy, which you reclined comfortably into. Considering how they were practically glued to the hip most of the time, you didn't understand why they didn't sit together now. Also, you didn't like how Medic's eyes seemed to follow you across the room as you sat down next to Heavy, doing your best to keep a respectable distance between you and Heavy. 

For some time, you relaxed, talking, listening to the radio, one beer turning into two, and two into two and a half as you settled more comfortably into the couch, no longer holding yourself so austerely, relaxing a little. Your head eventually resting on Heavy's shoulder, he looked at you, "Comfortable?"

You nodded, his body mass was so burly, and you could feel the warmth of his body through his shirt, making you feel a little giddy. "You're too cozy- I wanna sleep right here."

"Still cold from storm? I warm you."

It wasn't a question. And without waiting for a yes, Heavy effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, sitting you sideways on top of his legs. With one arm slung over your shoulder and one under your knees, he pulled you into his lap, the overwhelming closeness feeling sudden, but he was still so temptingly warm and comfortable you didn't want to pull away.

"Feel better?"

You giggled, nodding your head as he ruffled your hair playfully, keeping one arm around your shoulders as you settled against the arm of the couch. Your eyes were closed, your head feeling all floaty as you felt his hand move from the top of your head to the side of your cheek. His hands, no longer concealed under his gloves, felt calloused but so gentle against your cheek. He moved subtly, decisively. You didn't even realize he moved your face to meet his until you felt his lips connecting against your own.

Without warning, you pulled away sharply with the awkward rigidity of a stranger. Your actions caught Heavy by surprise, allowing you to detach yourself without restriction, though you could see his confusion through wide, frightened eyes. In a moment, you were made shockingly aware of everything the alcohol so effectively blinded you to before now. It was that awkward, sinking feeling of becoming all too aware of your own body all at once, aware of the space you were taking up, of how much of your body was pressed up against the massive Russian you shared the couch with, the clammy sweat coating your palms, the tension in your joints, yet most of all the butterflies in your belly which intensified into something less than pleasant. All of this awkwardness made you feel suddenly insecure about yourself, your form, and your relation to the men around you; how could you have been so blind to this before? For goodness sake, these were your coworkers; it was your responsibility to keep things professional between the lot of you, a task you could not more thoroughly have failed at. It was humiliating to realize you folded after just a couple of drinks, even if Heavy was playing along; it all felt so wrong and too pushy. Not to mention the fact Heavy was a taken man. The truth made all the more grievous, considering his partner was sitting right there facing the two of you. While the guilt for what you'd just done made you want to hide your face in shame, it was impossible to keep from looking at Medic. However, to your surprise, he merely sat there watching the two of you, cocking his head to the side slightly, with a confusion matching Heavy's as though you were the one acting strangely here.

"Something is wrong?" Heavy inquired, his hand on your waist tightening slightly, likely in reassurance, unfortunately having the opposite effect. It felt too awkward to look Heavy in the eye or face him at this point. So instead, you kept your gaze locked on the floor before the two of you as you nervously tried to squirm your way off the larger man's lap. All to no avail, however, as Heavy's grip on you was cast iron, and you resorted to clasping your hands together on your lap, speaking as levelly as you could, using all your willpower to keep the emotions and alcohol from causing your weak voice to crack, "I'm sorry, Heavy. I think I've, um-overstepped here; I shouldn't have, y-you know… Well, I mean, I think I'll turn in now- it's so late, already…."

Your voice trailed off, and you hated how wishy-washy you sounded, betraying your will to stay strong, to appear rational and firm as any reliable comrade should.

Heavy was not convinced. "You were fine when I pulled you on my lap. Why so tired so fast?"

Forcing a nervous laugh and uncomfortable forced smile, you tried to turn to Medic for reassurance, but he stared back, eyes squinting slightly, matching Heavy's suspicion. "Must be the alcohol's catching up with me then-'' It wasn't a total lie, as you could've sworn you could feel the alcohol churning in your gut, almost taunting you, forcing you to remember just how much you'd drunk in such a short amount of time.

"Explain." Heavy looked at you and deadpanned, waiting for you to tell the truth. You tried to swallow, but your mouth felt dry. 

"I mean, aren't you two-" The awkwardness melded uncomfortably with the guilt; how were you supposed to explain yourself in a situation like this? "I mean- but you two are together, aren't you?" 

"And?" Heavy spoke bluntly, putting you right back on the spot. You sighed nervously, nibbling at your lower lip and turning your head to face Medic. 

"I just, I-I know it's not my business, but I mean- I can't imagine you're alright with any of this-'' You thought you knew your friends well, but you never would've imagined winding up in a situation like this with the two of them. To your surprise, a smile spread across Medic's face.

"Of course I am! This was my idea, after all!" You merely blinked at him, not at all following what he meant by that.

"Huh? What do you mean, it was your idea?" 

"Well…" You could see his eyes flick from you to Heavy, silently asking for some backup. Heavy's fingers began to rub comforting little circles over your waist, his other hand covering your own hands on your lap in a reassuring gesture. 

"You're pretty and kind but sp shy. We thought a little experience would help." His blunt words took you completely by surprise.

"Experience?" You managed. Heavy nodded, not at all registering the shock on your face. 

"What he means is-" Medic chuckled slightly, interjecting, amused watching how flustered Heavy's words made you. "We thought if we helped you with a little, let's say, physical bonding-"

You opened your mouth, ready to ask what exactly he meant by this, but he pressed on.

"Nothing too intense now- just a little intimacy to get you more accustomed."

You hated how vague he was being, but also, you'd be lying if you said you'd never thought of being in a situation like this before. Only in your wildest, most unrealistic dreams, or so you thought. The two men were handsome in their own ways, you'd known before you got to know them, but you never liked to dwell on such lewd thoughts. You always felt so guilty afterward; they were your friends after all, even if just in your thoughts, you knew it was wrong to think so lustfully of friends. 

Sure, there was always a little lighthearted play-flirting occasionally, but you would never have tried anything serious with either of them. Your friendship meant too much to risk losing like that. 

You felt Heavy kiss the side of your head, murmuring in a low, uncharacteristically quiet voice into your ear, "You're shy but not sneaky. I see how you look at Doctor behind his back. He says you stare at me also. Is this true?"

Your breath hitched when he began to trail his beautiful, massive hand from over your hands, snaking it up your belly until it cupped the side of your face, forcing you to focus on him and meet his eye. Heavy drank in every detail of your face before settling his eyes on your lips, waiting for you to answer, and with a trembling exhale, you spoke, "It is." Before he could wait no longer, closing the space between your mouths once again, his lips curling into a smirk just seconds before his parted lips connected with yours.

While you were still awestruck at the surrealness of the situation, you felt your reservations evaporating by the second. Finally kissing back, you allowed Heavy to deepen the kiss as he used his hand to push your head closer against his. His thumb brushed over your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin as you felt almost uncomfortably overheated. He moved slowly but so lovingly, using his tongue to dip into your mouth and taste you, sucking against your lips as you broke the kiss with hesitation, asking,

"Are you sure you want to go through with all this?" He nodded with a mellow smile as you continued, still feeling traces of nervousness clinging to you stubbornly. "I'd never forgive myself if I ruined our friendship, and I, uh-" Despite your awkwardness and hesitation, Heavy smiled at you so resolutely, so affectionately. Watching you as though you were the most beautiful person he'd ever beheld.

"I don't want to let you down here. You guys were right; I've got no real experience here… I don't know if I'll be any good at this." It was almost shameful to say out loud, but Heavy didn't even blink, playfully kissing your cheek.

"Don't think of that. It's your time to learn, not lead." 

He nuzzled his nose against your cheek, the feeling almost ticklish, making you stifle a giggle. "Just lay back and look pretty. You'll do perfect." He pulled away a little, his hand on your waist, tugging at your shirt a little; only then did you see how blown out his pupils were, "Will you come to bed now?"

It was time to be decisive. The abruptness of the question caught you off-guard, but you had no idea if you would ever get a chance like this again. This was your moment; it was time to act or wish you had. You swallowed your uncertainty and nodded, finally removing your hands from your lap to help Heavy pull off your shirt before reaching out to touch his own top and about to do the same. But he gave you a look that made you pause.

"This one off too? It's not too much? We only go as far as you want." As praising as he was moments ago, his firmness and evident respect for your boundaries made you feel all the more loved. You took this as your chance to try and charm him, as he did so effortlessly to you.

"The shirt off is better; I mean, I've always wanted to get a look under these clothes." The sound of Medic chuckling beside you made you realize you'd almost forgotten he was there in the first place. It felt odd knowing he was so close, though if this was all his idea all along, you wondered where he factored into all this. Pushing that thought aside, you helped Heavy remove his shirt as you curled a little closer, your head resting against his chest, your hand on his shoulder as you softly kissed his skin, nuzzling to feel the delightful feeling of skin-to-skin contact as much as you could. "Heavy, your body is so warm. You feel amazing." Your words were mumbled, quiet, and practically smothered as you spoke without moving your head much from his chest. You could feel his chest rumbling with a low laugh, and when you felt his hips gently press a little closer against your body, but you didn't shy away. You could feel he was aroused and didn't doubt he knew you were too. You felt the warmth between your legs intensifying the longer you felt Heavy's bare skin against yours, your thighs squeezing tighter and tighter, and you swore you could feel a bit of wetness from the kiss alone.

"Will you take me to bed now? Please?" The neediness gave you a bit of confidence as you looked up at Heavy, who needed no further incentive. You leaned against him for support as you both rose, your hand finding his as you two walked to the bed, laying down. At the same time, Heavy lingered for a moment overhead, distracted by the curves of your body now spread out like a banquet before him, eyes looking everywhere but your face. Then, for a second, you felt a twinge of insecurity, "I won't lie; I'm still a little scared this is gonna hurt." 

Instantly, this snapped Heavy's attention back to your face as he sat beside you on the side of the bed, his hand finding yours again as he spoke, "We only go as far as you want… We can stop now if-" You didn't talk, just shook your head no, moving Heavy's hand with your own to the waist of your pants. He looked at you one last time for assurance. However, you could practically feel his hand trembling in yours with anticipation before you guided him to unbutton your pants, helping pull them off you. At the same time, you slinked out of them and your underwear, kicking them to the floor. 

Even against your thigh, his hand loomed intimidatingly, the size difference so beautiful, making you shudder, wanting this man more than ever. You were so distracted by his hands you didn't even hear Medic sneaking up behind Heavy until you heard him speak. "How precious you two look~" You jolted a little in surprise, seeing Medic peering down at you from behind Heavy with narrowed eyes glazed over with lust, shamelessly checking out your nude figure, now stripped perfectly naked in front of him.

"You didn't forget about me so soon, did you?" He asked in a faux-hurt voice, "You're doing so well. Are you ready to go a little further now?" 

"I am." You spoke without hesitation, the burning between your legs intensifying almost painfully as you shyly parted your thighs, feeling cool air ticking your sweaty skin as Medic walked to the foot of the bed to get a better view before you sat up a little, pushing away from the headboard as Heavy got into bed behind you.

"Heavy is here, right behind. You will be safe."

Before now, you remembered how painfully tense you felt, but at this moment, you were put at ease, comforted at last by the presence behind you, no longer so overwhelmed. How foolish you were to think your relationship with the two men had to be strictly business, how blind you were to the pleasure the two men had to offer.

"We will stop at any time-"

You cut him off with a kiss as he settled at the head of the bed, "I know I'm no good at showing it, but. I want this. I've wanted this for so long. You two mean so much to me, and I trust you."

You were about to say, 'I love you,' but you held back. You didn't have the guts to say something so bold. But you hoped Heavy, as well as Medic, understood, despite your shy quietness. There was a minute or two of moving around, Heavy moving from his spot at your bedside to get behind you; he spread his thick legs to give you space to settle between. Finally, you were lying down, your upper back and head resting on his belly, noticing the bulge in his pants as it pressed not-so-subtly into your back. Despite the lewdness of it all, you let your head fall back a little; Heavy's body felt so solid and warm behind you, it almost made you want to skip everything and just cuddle up and fall asleep already, but you knew Medic wouldn't allow such a thing.

"I'll start nice and slow, just for you." Medic's words were deceptively sweet, almost enough to hide his lustful intent. Your throat felt too dry to speak, so you merely nodded, feeling the heat in the pit of your stomach intensify at this new position. He was condescending to you, and yet you didn't even have the inner strength left to respond. Medic moved over you, his hands resting on Heavy's thighs around your head to keep you nice and caged, right where he wanted you. He could see it written all across your face; you were getting turned on being obedient like this, submitting and letting them take the lead. He leaned his body down further, enough for you to feel the rub of his pants over your naked flesh, the odd sensation making you wince as he slotted his knee between your legs, the gentle contact alone enough to make you jolt a little, startled. 

"Aww, I'm sorry. Did I scare you? You must be pretty needy down there, aren't you? Did Heavy do a good job getting you warmed up?" Medic could feel your chest rising and falling rapidly as you breathe deeper. He continued, "You've masturbated before, haven't you?" The question caught you off guard. You looked at Medic with wide eyes, feeling another throb of arousal, seeing his predatory grin, one you'd seen countless times in battle but appearing like never before, given the current position. He pressed his knee a little harder against you. 

"Y-yeah, I've- a lot, I guess…." 

"Did you ever think of it like this? Your pussy leaking all over me while you grind against me as hard as you can?" You keened, your hips rolling against his clothed thigh, the muscle bulging distractingly beneath the thin covering. It was humiliating to have him mocking you while you were powerless to defend yourself, yet still, you wanted even more. He laughed, amused by your lack of a response, as though your brain was already succumbing so quickly to your own lust you forgot how to form whole sentences.

"Does it turn you on when I dirty-talk you like this? I bet behind that pretty face, you're even more perverted than either of us." You grit your teeth, biting back a moan.

"Medic, w-why are you keeping your pants on?" He paused momentarily at the abrupt question, looking at you with an eyebrow raised as you rushed to explain yourself. "I mean, doesn't it feel- like, weird?"

"You want to see me undressed that bad, huh?" Medic responded. Of course, he wasn't wrong, but the self-satisfied look on his face stopped you from admitting he was right. 

You shook your head, "W-well, I mean, aren't you uncomfortable under all that?" He grinned, seeing right through your bluff. But, even though he knew you were lying, Medic wasn't about to press you too hard on the matter. 

"You'll understand once you get more experience. But, you know, it can be just as rewarding to stay dressed, to keep control-" He paused to trail a finger from between your breasts down, just below your navel, the light sensation causing you to throb with want against his thigh. Continuing in a low, almost antagonistic tone, "While your partner is a wet, needy, naked little mess beneath you." He could not more clearly be mocking you, but something about it had quite the effect on you. Medic knew just how to push your buttons, and it was driving you crazy.

He was about to say something when Heavy's voice from behind interrupted. 

"Medic, be nice. This is first time. You're embarrassing her. Don't overdo it." Thank God there was a literal angel over your shoulder to watch over you and reign in his partner.

"Perhaps, but it looks like someone's enjoying it." He was about to move his hand lower when you interrupted,

"Medic?"

He stopped his hand immediately, eyes meeting yours as you continued, "Can I get a kiss first?" You felt awkward, making such a bashful request compared to how confidently he spoke. His face softened at this, nodding before leaning closer, your hands cupping his cheeks. It felt good to be the first to deepen the kiss, your tongue flicking over his lip as his mouth parted, allowing you to get a better taste. Then, without breaking the kiss, his hand began to move down again, his thumb finding your clit quickly, causing you to moan into the kiss. 

Your mind went blank with pleasure at the stimulation, his thumb rolling softly over your clit as his other fingers deftly traced the exterior of your sex, collecting the abundant moisture and spreading it over the entrance while you throbbed beneath his fingertips. You felt an almost painful burning feeling as his fingers moved faster, lips working in rhythm against your mouth; far better than any fantasy you'd felt before.

Medic broke the kiss, "Do you want me to use my mouth? Are you ready for that?"

Without waiting, you nodded, "Please! It feels so good- please, please don't stop!"

"Just wait another moment- need to make sure you're ready," Medic spoke in a sweet, gentle voice, so sickeningly sweet you could practically feel your heartthrob. He pushed two fingers inside, and you couldn't help but buck forwards at the contact. Making Medic hum in satisfaction at your reaction. You could vaguely hear him chiding you for your impatience, but you were beyond caring at this point, and when you felt him tracing painfully slow little circles around your entrance, you whined out loud in annoyance.

"Will you stop teasing already and get on with it- Fuck!"

Medic looked genuinely shocked momentarily at how bold you were, but it didn't deter him. Instead, without waiting for another moment, he dove his face between your legs as you unconsciously spread your legs further for him, leaning back against Heavy for support, arching your back, feeling his hands on your shoulders to keep you steady; it wasn't long until you felt Medic's hands just above your knees, his breath fanning against your pussy.

But far be it from Medic to let you off so quickly, and you groaned out loud as you felt his tongue moving, intentionally moving up and around your clit, but refusing to make contact. You were dangerously close to digging your fingernails directly into Heavy's thighs. But you forced yourself to move one hand to the top of Medic's head, your fingers clutching his hair, trying to guide him into place while you ground against his face. When you finally felt his lips connecting with your clit you were practically sobbing with bliss, the feeling intensifying as he began to suckle against the swollen bundle of nerves. 

"More, more- Oh God, please- More!" You were getting louder than you intended, but fortunately, the radio likely kept anyone from overhearing any of this, but you only got louder as he began to suck harder. His tongue lapped upwards, swirling against your clit, as he moaned into you, swallowing as much as he could. You felt feral. Like you were burning hot on the inside, but Medic kept tempo without issue. Finally, you could feel your climax coming on, rolling your hips even harder, unintentionally pulling his hair just as fiercely. Still, if he was bothered by this, he didn't say anything, slurping contently as you finally felt the end coming on. And you trembled, feeling your body awash in ecstasy as you succumbed to the blinding pleasure between your legs.

It was an embarrassingly long time until you managed to catch your breath, the gap in experience between you and them becoming painfully obvious once again. Your throat felt so dry and scratchy from your heavy breathing and moaning, much like a scorched throat from pushing yourself in physical training. Though other than that, you were in a situation unlike any you'd known before. Naked, slick with your own sweat, your mind still tipsy and unstable from your orgasm. 

You could feel Heavy's hand petting at your hair from behind, and you couldn't help but swoon, feeling so supported and intimate with him after such a perverse moment. "You look so pretty when you come." There was an edge in his voice, and you thought he was indirectly asking if you wanted to go again, but you were too tired, too used up to think about doing this all over again. You didn't know how to respond; thankfully, Medic spoke first.

"It would be a shame if we kept this a 'one-time-thing,' wouldn't you agree?" And you felt your headrush, this evening felt too good to be true, nothing less than a dream come to life, but the promise of more was all the better. Nodding, you focused your gaze on Medic as he moved from between your legs; you responded, "So long as it's ok with you, I'd never want to come between things-"

 You felt like a rag doll, limp and being pulled lifelessly by the other two, Medic facing you, arms around your back, pulling you into his chest. "Don't worry about it; you're the one with much more to learn here." You felt Heavy's enormous arm pull the both of you tighter into his chest. And at this moment, sandwiched between the warm bodies of two men you cared more about than anyone else in the world, you prayed the night would never end. 

#anonymous #request #x reader #yandere #self ship #tf2 x reader #yandere team fortress 2 #tf2 smut #yandere tf2 x reader #yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere imagine #poly yandere #poly x reader #tf2 medic #tf2 medic x reader #yandere tf2 medic #tf2 medic smut #tf2 heavy #tf2 heavy x reader #yandere tf2 heavy #tf2 heavy smut #yandere oneshot

[sitp-recs]

heyo!! been loving the super specific rec lists youve been making lately :)

do you have favorite fics that include riding! as in. riding cock. bonus points if there’s good dirty talk about it. don’t care who’s on who as long as it is HOT! but obv i love drarry most. hope this is fun!

An ask after my own heart 🥹 thank you for the delicious request anon, here are some fics with memorable riding scenes imho. This reminded me of my fave Starker PWP but that’s neither here nor there so I’ll keep this short & Drarry. I hope you enjoy! 🔥

Move by @shealwaysreads (829 words)

“Come on, fuck yourself on it. I won’t make it move until you do.”

You Either Fuck or You Get Fucked by @fw00shy (2k)

"That's not how fucking works. Fucking's…" Draco waved a hand in the air. "You either fuck or you get fucked." "Sure," Harry said. He took out a Sickle. "Toss for it?"

in charge by @bonesliketambourines (2.4k)

Draco's bossy. Turns out that extends to the bedroom, too. Harry likes it—a lot.

Mens Rea by @lqtraintracks (E, 3k)

Mens Rea: the mental element of a person's intention to commit a crime; or knowledge that one's action or lack of action would cause a crime to be committed. “Draco Malfoy, how do you plead?” I’m super fucking guilty.

Like Gold by @the-sinking-ship (4k)

Draco runs away from home on the back of his boyfriend’s motorbike.

Catch the Snitch (No, Catch My Heart) by prolix (4.5k)

Draco secretly loved when Harry lost a match.

Sexplanations (Of the Horrible Sort) by @bixgirl1 (7k)

Harry's willing to put up with a certain amount of injury, as long as he and Malfoy can keep doing... whatever it is they're doing. Maybe. Mostly. Especially if there might be more to it than sex.

The Page Eleven Wars by fireflavored (E, 8.5k)

In a gossip-hungry post-war Wizarding World, Rita Skeeter has a wildly successful column in the Daily Prophet known as Page Eleven. Naturally, her favourite targets are the poster boys of the two sides of the war: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Bored and annoyed, the two take up tabloid baiting for sport and pleasure.

It's the Love of the Chase (That Created the Ride) by @lqtraintracks (14k)

Draco and Harry are new Auror partners. It's a bit dull. Until they finally see some spell action and things get a lot more interesting (in Draco's pants).

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (15k)

As Draco leaned on the wall to wait for them to get dressed, he could not help feeling like he had done a very kind thing by disrupting them. Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag.

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

Buy A Heart by xErised (E, 17k)

Draco's cock hardens as he looks at the invitation to the charity auction; his golden ticket to one wild night of desperate sex with Potter to get rid of this inexplicable obsession. His heart whispers that one night will never be enough, but Draco is beyond caring. All he knows is that he will pay any price to have Potter over and over again.

White as Snow by @bixgirl1 (19k)

After a quick escape from danger, Harry and Draco find themselves trapped in a blizzard, a small cabin their only refuge from the storm. It's the perfect place to recover and regroup — and to have a long-overdue conversation or two.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (20k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (22k)

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

Touch Me Fall by @lqtraintracks (23k)

Malfoy was such a ponce. And he was a complete snob. And he was so fucking fit Harry wanted to jump him where he sat. It would be too easy to forget his objective tonight: to really, really, really get Malfoy out of his system.

In Your Arms, Rests My World by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (24k)

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it. “You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

Embers by @shiftylinguini (41k)

Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #riding 🚘

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part fifteen] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, angst, mild smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 4.5k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

“I’m not leaving you down here alone,” Jisung insisted.

You could tell that he was starting to get frustrated, but you were too. You didn’t understand why he was so fucking stubborn.

“I’ll be fine!” you hissed.

The rest of the Hans were only ten feet or so away from you and you didn’t want them to hear you arguing with their son.

You were trying to convince Jisung to go to the top of the Tokyo Tower with his family, but he was adamant on staying with you on the ground, knowing you’d be miserable if you had to go up that high.

“I’m an adult, Ji,” you pointed out.

“I know! But we’re in a foreign country, and you don’t speak the language.”

“Neither do you!”

“Yeah, but there’d be two of us! And you’re-” he paused.

“What?”

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?” you pressed, playing dumb.

“Come on, you know young women are way more vulnerable than anyone else.”

“Wow, so because I’m a woman, you can’t leave me down here alone?” you scoffed.

Jisung took a deep breath. “You’re twisting my words.”

You knew he was right. It wasn’t safe to be somewhere you weren’t familiar with by yourself, especially if you didn’t know the native language. It was early morning, and there was plenty of daylight, but tourist spots were known for being dangerous regardless.

“I don’t want you to miss out.”

“It’s just another high structure in the middle of a city. The view from the top looks the same from all of them anyway.”

“That’s not true!”

“How would you know? You’ve only ever been to the Eiffel Tower.

“I can stay with her.”

You both jerked your heads over to see Minho standing beside you. You weren’t sure how long he had been there, or how much he had overheard.

“I can stay down here,” he repeated when neither of you responded. “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want you to miss out either!”

“I won’t be missing out. I’ve been to the Tokyo Tower before,” he explained. “I came here on tour a few years ago.”

You kept forgetting Minho was a famous dancer, not just your best friend’s brother. You thought that being alone with him might be a bad idea, but you also knew it’d be the only way to get Jisung to go up fucking tower.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“I don’t want to leave you again,” Jisung said before his brother could answer.

You suspected he still felt guilty about riding with Felix instead of you on the rollercoaster the day before at Yomiuriland, but you wished he wouldn’t beat himself up over it.

“Babe, you wouldn’t be leaving me! I want you to go with your family.”

He looked at you, then at Minho, then back at you and sighed.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. As long as Minho’s okay being stuck with me.”

“I think you need to reevaluate who’s stuck with who,” Jisung deadpanned.

“Jisung,” you scolded. “He’s doing us a favor.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Minho,” your best friend said and then forced a smile.

You pulled Jisung by the shoulders and kissed him once on the lips, ignoring the way Minho looked away uncomfortably. Jisung groaned against your mouth, deepening the kiss. You were a little surprised, but you let it happen. He wrapped his arms around your waist and then finally broke away, still holding you close.

“You act like you’re going off to war,” Minho scoffed.

Jisung ignored him. “Be back in an hour!”

“Take lots of pictures for me!” you called after him, watching as he walked over to join the rest of his family.

“I’ll be the best chaperone ever,” Minho yelled in assurance.

“Chaperone?”

“Yeah, I’m like, making sure you don’t get kidnapped or pickpocketed or whatever.”

You took a step back and looked him up and down, sizing him up. “How tall are you?”

Minho put a hand to his heart in mock offense. “Why must you wound me in this way?”

You smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

“Hey, I’m older than you. That makes me the chaperone.”

“Fine, Mr. Han.”

He scrunched his nose in distaste. “Wait, that’s weird. Don’t call me that.”

“But I thought you were my-”

“Chaperone, I know. But the bit’s dead. You killed it.”

“Good,” you said in satisfaction.

Minho shook his head, chuckling under his breath. You both watched Jisung disappear with the other Hans into the building at the base of the tower. You breathed a sigh of relief once the doors closed behind them. You were happy that you weren’t holding your best friend back from what could be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Just because you didn’t want to experience it in your lifetime didn’t mean he shouldn’t.

You were about to ask Minho what you should do while you wait, but were interrupted before you could.

“Excuse me.”

A girl who looked to be your age had popped up behind the two of you. You could tell she was American from the way she was dressed, not to mention the accent that gave her away.

“Is it possible to get a picture with you?” she asked nervously.

Minho smiled, instantly turning on his charm. You could see it now: what everyone else seemed to see. Maybe you had always been able to see it, but as you watched him interact with his fan it seemed so suddenly evident. He was naturally charismatic, that much was obvious. But to leave it at that would be an understatement.

“Sure,” he answered easily and the girl visibly relaxed. “I just ask that you don’t post it for a few hours because I try to keep my exact location kinda private.”

“Of course! I totally understand.”

“Perfect. Let’s take that photo, then.”

The girl turned to you, acknowledging your presence for the first time. “Would you mind taking the picture?”

You froze, panicking internally. You were unaware that you would also have to interact with this person, though it made sense seeing as you were the only other one there. You weren’t sure how to act in this situation, but Minho gave you a reassuring smile and the slightest of nods from behind the girl.

You grinned awkwardly. “Yeah, I can do that!”

She handed you her phone and went to stand next to Minho. You opened the camera and focused it on them, taking a step back so you could get a better angle. She was pretty, you noticed with a sinking feeling as Minho wrapped his arm around her shoulders and smiled. You snapped a couple of shots and then handed the phone back.

“Let me know if those are okay,” you said hoarsely.

She swiped through the gallery quickly to check them while Minho watched over her shoulder, humming in approval.

“They’re perfect, thank you,” she beamed.

“Of course.”

She turned back to face Minho and stuck out her hand. “I’m Rosalyn, by the way.”

Even her name was pretty.

“Lee Know, but I think you already knew that.”

“I did, yeah. And you are…?”

Rosalyn was looking at you expectantly, wanting you to introduce yourself. Without thinking you shook her hand, even though you knew she didn’t care about you and was only asking to be polite.

“I’m-”

“She’s a friend,” Minho said quickly, coming over to wrap an arm around your shoulders this time.

The girl looked back and forth between you like she was trying to piece your relationship together. Minho cleared his throat politely and pursed his lips, startling the girl out of her thoughts.

“Well, it was really nice to meet you both. Thank you for the picture. I won’t post it until tomorrow.”

“I appreciate that,” Minho said. “It was a pleasure to meet you, as well.”

Rosalyn thanked him again and complimented his work before walking off.

“What the fuck was that?” you whispered once you thought she was out of earshot.

“What do you mean?”

“A friend?”

He raised his arms defensively. “You are a friend!”

“Yeah, but by introducing me as ‘a friend’ it looks suspicious. Why didn’t you just let me introduce myself?”

“I didn’t want her looking you up!”

“How would she find me from just my first name?”

“You’d be surprised at how… dedicated some K-pop fans can be.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well if she mentions anything about you being with a girl in her post there are going to be rumors all over the internet and Jisung is going to be pissed.”

“I know,” Minho sighed. “But it’s better than them finding you.” You weren’t so sure that was true. “I’m sorry,” he continued. “Let me make it up to you by buying you coffee?”

You mulled over the offer, letting him linger in the uncertainty while you thought about your answer.

“Fine,” you answered finally, scowling. “I guess coffee couldn’t hurt.”

Minho grinned, and sighed in relief. “I knew you couldn’t say no to caffeine.”

“Using my weakness against me.” You shook your head in disbelief. “Shameful.”

“I’m not above it.”

“I know.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched for a nearby café.

“There’s a place like half a mile from here. Does that sound good?”

“Do we have time?”

Minho lifted his wrist to check his Rolex even though he had his phone in his hand and shrugged.

“It should be fine. We can always run back if we’re short on time.”

“I will not be running.”

“Okay, well if we’re short on time we’ll just be a little late.”

You knew Jisung wouldn’t care as long as you sent him a text.

“Works for me.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

Minho routed walking directions to the café and you both started off in the direction the map was pointing you in, dodging pedestrians moving in the opposite direction.

-

It took a whole ten minutes for you and Minho to decide on a coffee order because of the overwhelming amount of options presented on the menu. There were so many flavors you wanted to try, but you didn’t want to mix too many into your drink and overpower the coffee entirely.

You finally decided that you would each get one you both wanted to try and share. You ordered an iced drip coffee with caramel syrup and oat milk, and Minho ordered an iced latte with vanilla and oat milk. In all honesty, they were both drinks you would have ordered back home, so you weren’t really trying anything new, but you could use the comfort. Technically, all the brands of the ingredients were Japanese so it wasn’t the same as an American coffee, not entirely.

The barista called your names almost immediately after Minho’s debit card transaction was approved. The little green lights on the machine lit up and then you were being handed your drinks in little plastic cups.

Minho thanked the lady in Japanese and English, just in case he’d butchered it the first time and then you were headed back out of the cafe, retracing your steps to the Tokyo Tower.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you said as you took your first sip.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, taking a sip in turn.

“How’s yours taste?” you asked.

“It’s good, yours?”

“Really good.”

Wordlessly, you traded cups with each other. It was like he had read your mind, or rather, shared the same train of thought.

You took a sip of his drink, letting the sweetness of the vanilla replace the saltiness of the caramel that still lingered on your tongue. You closed your eyes and hummed in satisfaction, taking another sip out of impulse. When you blinked them back open Minho was grinning at you like he knew something you didn’t.

“What?”

“You like mine better, don’t you?”

“What? No I don’t.”

“You took two sips of mine, and you moaned.”

“Oh my god, I did not moan,” you hissed elbowing him in the side.

“I think we’re remembering the last five seconds differently.”

“Just take your shitty drink back,” you groaned, shoving the cup in his direction.

“Oh, so now it’s shitty?”

“It always was.”

“Why’d you take more than one sip?”

“Maybe I like to suffer.”

“Is that why you’re dating my brother?”

You fought the urge to shove him, settling for glaring instead.

“If I liked it that much, I’d be dating you instead of him.”

Minho rolled his eyes at you but didn’t say anything else. For a second you thought you might have actually hurt his feelings until he offered you your original coffee back. You switched with him and started sipping on the drink again. You walked the rest of the way back to the tower in silence, trading drinks every few minutes.

The rest of the Hans were already waiting for you once you got back. They waved you down from a distance to be sure you wouldn’t miss them.

Jisung left his family and met you halfway. You automatically handed him your coffee so that he could try it, not bothering to tell him what was in it since you liked the same things anyway.  

“I was wondering where you went.”

“Just needed a little caffeine,” you explained.

“Should’ve known.”

-

The following day, you were up before the sun. It wasn’t that you had to be, rather that your body woke you up on its own. You tried to go back to sleep, but were unsuccessful, finally giving up and scrolling through your phone instead.

Jisung was snoring softly next to you with his arm slung across your stomach. You glanced over at him for a moment, wondering if he was dreaming. He always told you he didn’t have dreams, but sometimes when he slept over at your place you would hear him talking in his sleep, suggesting that he must be dreaming about something. Your general psychology professor had told you that everyone dreams, but not everyone remembers them. You figured Jisung must fall under the latter category, forgetting everything that had happened while he slept as soon as he opened his eyes each morning.

You considered him lucky for it. He didn’t have to be haunted by nightmares for years after having them, and he didn’t have to deal with the guilt of having a sex dream you definitely should not be having a sex dream about. Like your best friend’s brother, for instance.

You’d tried to push it to the back of your mind by checking your email, scrolling through Twitter, and even doing the New York Times Daily Mini Crossword, but it still nagged at you no matter what you did.

Your entire body felt hot, and Jisung’s arm on top of you wasn’t helping. You had woken up in a cold sweat from the dream you’d had, feeling sticky with guilt and perspiration. It wasn’t the first dream you’d had about Minho, but it was the most sinful.

You wouldn’t be able to shake the images of lingering touches and strained moans from your memory any time soon. The way he had teased you over your panties, rubbing slow circles on your clit as you lay in bed together, was permanently burned into your conscious. It had felt so real. You almost wanted it to be.

You pressed your thighs together underneath the sheets, still aching from the dream. Your throat burned with arousal and humiliation. You tried to force the emotions down, afraid to wake Jisung with your heavy breathing. God, it had been way too long since you’d gotten laid. You were starting to go crazy.

Jisung’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, making him roll over to his other side. You thought the notification might have woken up, but when you lifted yourself up on your elbows to check he was still asleep.

You sighed to yourself and slipped out of bed. You knew you weren’t going to get any more sleep at this point. Trying would only frustrate you, and you didn’t feel like angry crying before seven a.m..

It was still dark out, but you assumed that there must be something open at this hour where you could grab breakfast. If not, you could still do with the walk. Some fresh air would do you some good anyway.

You grabbed a change of clothes from the pile of clean laundry on the dining table and changed in the bathroom. You fixed your hair and brushed your teeth and then snuck out the door with your phone and wallet, sending a quick text to Jisung to tell him where you were going in case he woke up while you were gone.

The hallway was eerily silent, as was the lobby. The only people there were the poor employees working the graveyard shift. They smiled politely at you as you walked through, but it didn’t meet their eyes. You couldn’t blame them. You’d be tired too if you had been awake that long.

As soon as you reached the door you heard your name being called from behind. You whipped around and spotted Minho in the lounge area, waving you over. He was dressed in a white hoodie and jeans and was pouring himself a cup of coffee at the complimentary drink station.

You hadn’t even realized his bed was empty when you left the room, but then again it had been too dark to see much of anything.

You approached him hesitantly. You could already feel your face heating up as flashes of your dream from the previous night played in front of your eyes.

“You’re up early,” he said, removing one of his AirPods so that he could hear your response.

“Could say the same for you,” you mused, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.

He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Likewise.”

“Bad dreams?”

“Something like that.”

“Me too.” He held up his paper cup and turned to the coffee pot. “Want some?”

You shook your head. “I probably shouldn’t drink coffee on an empty stomach, but thanks.”

He nodded in understanding. “I never drink coffee unless I really need it. And I’m fucking exhausted.” You watched him take a sip in silence, noting the way his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you. “Is that my shirt?”

You looked down and confirmed that, yes, you were in fact wearing his shirt. It was a navy t-shirt with a Champion insignia on one of the breasts. You must’ve mistaken it for your own when you grabbed it from the stack of everyone’s folded laundry. It had been so dark, and you had been disoriented as it was.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’ll go change-”

“No, don’t!” he blurted, holding a hand out to stop you. “It’s just a shirt, don’t worry about it. It looks better on you anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Well, thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Minho cracked a smile. “Don’t mention it.”

You rocked back on your heels, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants, which were thankfully actually yours.

“So, I was going to try and find something to eat around here. Did you want to come with me?”

“Sure,” he agreed easily. “We can get something for the twins too.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Alright then, let’s go.”

Minho followed you out of the lobby, throwing his hood over his head.

Oh right. Always have to be on.

The streets were already bustling with activity. Traffic trickled through the stoplights at an agonizing pace while shopkeepers and pedestrians rushed about, either trying to get everything in order to open for the day or make it to the train station in time for their morning commute.

Crates of fruit, and other fresh produce were being stacked on display tables, metal grates were being unlocked and pushed up like garage doors.

The air was still chilly from the night before, not yet insufferable from the summer heat. You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself to try and warm up. Your friends from school, including Jisung, had always made fun of you for how easily you got cold. To be fair, it was deserved. It could be like seventy degrees out and you’d need a sweater. Like it happened to be at this specific moment.

“Are you cold?” Minho asked.

“No, what makes you say that?”

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want my sweatshirt?”

“No, I’m already wearing your shirt. I don't need more of your clothes.”

“So… you’d rather freeze?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think freeze is a bit dramatic, don’t you?”

“God, you’re stubborn,” Minho groaned.

“Am I stubborn or are you just not used to people declining your offers?”

Minho pursed his lips in response.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I feel like it’s at least a little bit of both.”

“Fine, maybe you have a point there.”

He smiled, satisfied with the compromise.

You walked another block or so in silence. The sun had started to rise in the distance, painting the sky with faint shades of orange. It wasn’t visible over the skyline yet, but the city was already brighter. You checked the hours posted on the door of each cafe and restaurant as you passed them, but they all wouldn’t open for another half hour or so.

“What about here?” Minho suggested, leaning down to read the store hours.

It was a little pastry shop with counter displays full of assorted baked goods and sweets. The little neon open sign hanging in the window was illuminated and there were people inside, but he wanted to double check just in case.

“Looks good to me.”

The cashier greeted you in English before either of you had the chance to speak, and you chuckled. You weren’t sure if she recognized Minho, but even if she hadn’t, he was a dead giveaway.

“What do you want?”

“What about those fluffy pancakes?” you suggested, pointing to the ones behind the glass.

“Yeah, we could get a bunch of them and bring them back so we could all share.”

“Good idea.”

You stood back and let Minho order for you. You didn’t pay attention to how many pancakes he ordered until they were being handed across the counter to you in two separate boxes.

“These are kinda heavy,” you commented, lifting your box up and down like you were curling a weight.

“Need me to carry it?”

You held the container close to your chest defensively. “No, I got it.”

“What was that about not being stubborn?”

-

Jisung was still asleep when you eventually made it back to the hotel. You hadn’t realized how far you and Minho walked, but your calves were sore by the time you stepped off the elevator onto your floor.

You set the box you had been carrying on the table next to the laundry and walked over to the bed. You shook Jisung’s shoulder gently, smiling when he blinked open his eyes.

“Morning, sunshine,” you said brightly. “Breakfast is ready?”

“You cooked?” he mumbled in confusion.

“No, Minho and I went out and got breakfast.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Oh, fuck you, Han,” you scoffed, picking up your pillow and hitting him with it. “I’m going to eat your pancakes.”

“No! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!”

You narrowed your eyes at your best friend. “You’re just saying that.”

“Maybe…”

“I have half a mind to smother you with this pillow right now.”

Jisung held his hand up to block you before you could hit him again and then disarmed you by yanking it out of your grasp.

“What’s wrong with you!”

“My boyfriend’s an asshole, for starters!”

“Is that worth murdering me for?! Would it be worth it to go to jail?”

“Who says I’d get caught?”

“There are two witnesses! My brothers are standing right over there.”

“And they didn’t see anything, right boys?”

You turned to face Minho and Felix who were already digging into the food. Felix gave you a thumbs up as he shoved a bite of pancakes in his mouth and Minho gave you a hesitant nod, eyes wide.

Jisung shook his head. “My own blood…”

“Now come on, sleepyhead. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

-

After everyone finished eating you all packed an overnight bag for a day of travel.

One of the main things Felix wanted to do in Japan was visit Kabeyu Hot Spring, a famous onsen in a cave. That very onsen was featured in his favorite manga, the one Yuji had introduced him to all those years ago.

The plan was to fly to Oita for the night, where the onsen was, and then return to Tokyo the next morning. Oita was on a different island of the Japanese archipelago than Tokyo, so it didn’t make sense to try to make it a day trip.

The flight would take less than two hours and then you’d get to relax in a natural spring for the rest of the day. It seemed worth it to you.

Felix had also mentioned going out to a bar or two afterwards, but you were still a little iffy on alcohol after what happened last time you got drunk.

The flight, cab to the hotel, and check-in process were relatively painless, and you and Jisung got your own room for the night which was a relief.

The onsen was only a short walk from the hotel, and despite the late afternoon heat, a cool breeze made the trek rather pleasant.

Jisung’s dad checked you in for the appointment and you were directed to the changing area where you could get dressed/undressed and store your things in the lockers. The changing area was unisex, which posed sort of a problem. You knew that sensitivity over nudity was a very Western concept, and that most cultures didn’t even view being naked as sexual or taboo. In fact, you were usually pretty comfortable in situations that required you to take your clothes off, but you had more than a few reservations about stripping in front of your best friend’s entire family. Especially his parents. And especially since you’d had a sex dream about his brother last night.

You faced the lockers as everyone around you began to change, face burning.

Thankfully, being nude at this particular onsen was optional, and if guests preferred not to be they were offered yuami-gis, or bathing clothes that were carefully washed and specifically provided by the staff so that they wouldn’t dirty the water. They could either be worn at the chest or at the waist, kind of like a towel.

Jisung waited with you until the rest of his family had left before he started to undress. It was like he could read your mind. You pulled your yuami-gi to just below your collarbone and let the elastic band at the top stretch to your body shape. The garment was a bit short, and the fabric appeared to be somewhat see-through, but it was better than having your tits completely out in front of your boyfriend’s parents.

"How do I look?” you asked, twirling so that Jisung could get the full effect.

“You look stunning,” he deadpanned. “Now let’s go find my family. They’re probably wondering what’s taking us so long.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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#instead of you skz #iou skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lino x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids series #skz series #lee know series #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #stray kids smut #lee know smut #skz smut

[adora-but-ginger]

scrawled in sand

pairing: joel miller x gender neutral!reader

summary: a fight leads to a mistake that may be costly, and Joel might lose someone, again.

word count: 4.5k(ish)

warnings: typical tlou violence and the warnings that come with those, nothing in detail but some sexual thoughts so 18+, weapons/knives, mentions of the loss of children, joel is kind of being an asshole at some points, angst, fluff at the end though, reader is like a feral cat joining a group of feral cats, swearing, hallucinations kind of, spoilers for episodes eight and nine, talking of death, no y/n used, umm i think that's it

masterlist

a/n: please don't ask me what this is, i don't have an answer. i chugged it out on a whim yesterday and make some edits today to fit the story better, and i'm currently trying to fill the hole that the end of the show has left so here this is! pedro as joel truly makes my brain go brrr, this series is fr consuming my life oh my god. thank you for reading! <3

one more thing! don't repost my stories, because only those who don't cover their cough or sneeze do that, and frankly that's embarrasing.

enjoy!-ella

credit to gif owner!

Joel,

The letter started, and he felt the all too familiar feeling of guilt pool in his gut. The argument from earlier that morning back had ran through his head on repeat since you left him standing alone in the middle of the street, with nothing but the horses in the near distance remaining as his company.

He didn't know why he said what he did, or at least he didn't want to admit it. The ghosts of his past had been haunting his every waking moment the closer he got to you, after Ellie had asked you to come with them in Kansas City. To say you were a force to be reckoned with would be an understatement, and he frequently glanced to your features and saw the same fires that burned the kindle of broken memories in himself.

You were dangerous, fearless, and morally questionable. This meant that Ellie nearly fuckin' worshipped you, and that Joel followed not too far behind.

The fact that you were nearly breathtaking to him was also an added benefit. Had he met you before, Tommy definitely would've chastised him for fawning after someone so out of his league.

You were brutal, and had made your grand entrance by saving Ellie and his life when he thought he had failed once again. Even months after you had joined their little duo, he still hadn't figured out how he hadn't seen you in the shadows. You had gotten rid of the person holding the weapon to Ellie's head just as they were about to pull the trigger, the shock of this third unannounced party granting you the time to take care of the one suffocating Joel.

Apparently, you drew a line of morals somewhere, but the line must've been distinct only to you. You had introduced yourself to the two after making sure they were both okay enough to continue, and it didn't take him more than another twenty-four hours to know that somewhere along the line, you had lost a child too. He had never expressed his inference out loud, but only someone who personally knew the pain of losing a child like that would save a kid like that.

From then on, he could tell that his silent vow to protect Elle at all costs was shared with another--an unspoken agreement going between the two of you.

It didn't take long for his 'crush' (as Ellie called it) to develop for you, though he denied it at any and all costs. How could he not? You could take out a clicker in the most agile way he had ever seen, and still walk away looking saccharinely angelic. His angel of death, he called you, after a night of too much stale alcohol surrounded by the sounds of crackling embers and an audience of the stars. You had laughed, and it was the first time he had made you produce that sound.

To say that the thought made him a little weak in the knees would put it mildly, and he thanked the onlookers of dust and ice above him that he was sitting down.

You had told him that that was probably one of the nicest nicknames you had been gifted by another in the last two decades.

He responded with a small smile, one that hadn't seen the light of day in much too long.

You said you liked it, the way his eyes looked with the little crinkles, and got up to stand watch. He noticed the scar that adorned the length of your collarbone for the first time, and let his eyes travel downward for the briefest of moments, before he lectured himself on why he couldn't think like that, of you, of anyone.

Your guard slowly went down for him after that night under the stars, but that didn't mean that you were any less brutal. You plowed through infected with so much as a blink of an eye and a scoff, and could bring a person to their knees, in want of lust or life, often taking the latter.

You two had become close after the winter that he nearly died at the University and Ellie and themself had gone through some of the most trauma one could experience. In fact, the caring whispers you and him had shared during those weeks, well, he damn near thought he made them up out of how unreal they seemed. He remembers the feeling of your lips against his cheek, of you falling asleep on one side of him with Ellie on the other while he nearly bled to death.

He knew he loved you then, but chalked it up to his dying mind.

And then the incident with the hospital happened, and even though you had barely the slightest clue as to who these firefly folks were, you had informed him afterward that when you woke up and pestered Marlene into telling you what was happening with Ellie you blacked out--that there was a reason as to why he had given you that nickname all those moons ago.

Because even if these people thought they could make a cure, who was to say that it worked? These scientists, with barely any resources to perform the necessary tests, had no guarantee that they wouldn't fuck it up, or that they would even did the surgery right had they performed it. No practice on what to do, no clue as to if they even acquire the correct sample. In fact, the only thing that they could guarantee would be the blood of a fourteen-year-old on their hands.

Joel had met you halfway through his sweep of the first floor, the fireflies making the dire mistake of keeping you two on the same level.

He decided to lie to Ellie about what had happened earlier then, and you respected his decision to a point, but you told her that you couldn't speak for him, and that you had found the two of them through no innocent manner.

So now here the three of you were, in Jackson, Wyoming, with him head-over-heels for you, and you feeling quite the same. A home was given to you all, and Tommy had rightly taken up his role of annoying younger brother, reminding him that not only did he know those who were ordained within the town (should the time come for you to become him and Maria's sibling-in-law), but that it would contain the looks that those of all genders gave you.

Like he said before, you were breathtaking, and now he wasn't the only one who knew that.

You had let your guard down a little sine you all returned, but he could tell you were struggling with it. Acting as a parental figure to Ellie had come easy to you, which meant that Tommy wasn't the only one constantly pushing him to make a move on you. He wouldn't be surprised if Ellie and his brother had a damn bet going on as to who could get him to say something first. And even though you two shared a room and a bed, nothing was set in stone. You would only really go out when the other two were, besides patrols, which you damn nearly craved according to Tommy.

It was hard for you and him, but the effort was there. He would see a more relaxed version of you in the nights, with the musings spoken between you and him after the sun had set only heard when your arms were around him in bed and the lull of sleep was around the corners.

So, when you both came back after a significantly rough patrol and something within him snapped at your recklessness, the feeling so long subdued came out from the depths of both of your hearts.

"You need to start being more careful of your surroundings!" He had sharply huffed at you after you had gone in with your usual guard and lack of self-care. The shock at his sudden outburst on your face spoke for the both of you. He didn't know why he was so upset, this was nothing new, but his fears had started to best him.

"Pardon me?" You had said after removing the saddle from your horse.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." He gritted his teeth and crossed his arms, your actions soon mirroring his. "You can't just go into spaces we haven't checked alone all because you feel up to it."

"I went in there because I knew that there were infected, I don't get why this is anything different than the usual." The shock had quickly faded into confusion at his accusation. As much as he knew your readiness for conflict of the physical, he knew that you were never one for that of the verbal. That was one difference between the two of you--you insisted that problems were to be figured out and dissolved as soon as they arose, for there was no point in letting an argument brew.

"It's just--" he shut his eyes and took a breath, trying to keep himself in check, recognizing the fear that still remained from how fast you bolted into the abandoned barn. "We're a family now, you n' Ellie n' I, and you have to start caring more about what you do and your safety."

"I have been, Joel. So a stalker got a jump on me when I turned my back, but it's happened to the best of us. I wasn't bit, I'm okay." You had reached for his arm, but he moved his stance back just enough for you to halt your motion.

Something hardened in his eyes at that, feelings of what could've happened if you were bit flashing across his mind like a bad movie. "What if we hadn't been on your six? Huh? What would've happened if you did get bit? I couldn't live with myself, and you know damn well that Ellie wouldn't take the news well either. What you do doesn't just impact you anymore. That's all I'm saying."

You had sighed, nodding. "You have to see where I'm coming from too though, love." Pet names had flowed relatively frequently between the two of you since the beginning of the winter, but he still wasn't used to them. He liked em', loved em' even, but a little voice in his head always told him he was getting too close. You both hadn't said those three words, but he was terrified that he would push you away the moment they entered the air.

"I just, never mind." He turned to walk away, which was his first mistake. He knew you wouldn't let the subject just go like that.

"No, no, let's talk this through. You have done the same thing countless times, hell I've had to pry those fuckers off of your back more than I should, but you still continue to do it."

He spoke with his back still turned. "Yeah, but with me it's different."

Mistake number two.

You had both moved to the street now, the lights of early morning filling the colour palette surrounding you both.

"What do you mean it's different? What, you think I'm weaker than you or somethin'?" Your voice held more bite with the claim, and he screwed his eyes tight. He knew that your ability to hold your own was a touchy subject at best, after you explained your amount of loss long ago, but it didn't even cross his mind that his words could've been interpreted in a different manner.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." He was getting annoyed, he was tired, but he turned to face you nonetheless. It was too early for a disagreement, but alas, here you both were.

"Yeah? Because that's not what it sounded like."

"Listen," your name tumbled from his lips. "You know that I know you're not weak, I have never doubted your strength and I never will. Goddammit. I just think that you go in over your head sometimes, thinkin' that you can handle more than you can."

Mistake number three.

"I know damn well what I can and cannot handle, Joel." Your chest was starting to raise faster, and he could tell that you were getting fed up, but so was he.

"Can you just listen to me for once?!" his tone became louder with every word. Memories of his life before ran through his head, alongside your image. If you wanted to be so stubborn, he could too. Maybe that's why he said what he did next. "You know what? No. I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"For the past how many patrols, you've come back with some sort of scratch because you don't care about what happens to you, and I'm sick of it--"

"--I've been working on it, and you know that. This isn't an easy change for me."

"But you're not workin' hard enough!" his voice was raised now, and he saw your resolve start to break. The dam had opened, and now the flood was rushing in. "If you're goin' to go and get yourself hurt, go do it away from me. In fact, it might just be better if you go on and leave, save us the trouble of worryin'." The words were leaving his mouth before he could even realize what he was saying, and he regretted every word that he processed.

"You don't mean that." He could see your breath hitch, your chest stumble as you spoke.

"I'll be damned if I don't. Can't have us thinkin' you're not gonna make it back if there's no back for you to come to."

"Joel, I am trying to work on getting better at it." Your voice matched his tone now, the anger seeping through you. "You don't see me pointing out every one of your flaws, and goddammit you have your fair share. You know I love you regardless, and--"

Mistake number four.

His body tensed up at your accidental confession, and your eyes widened as you realized what you had said.

"What did you just say to me?" He was too fired up to process his emotions healthily, and all the alarms to run were blaring loud and far. Did he feel the same? most definitely. Did he know how to express that in the slightest? Not at all.

But you held your ground. You knew him and how closed up he was, hell, you were nearly on par with his level there, but you had said it nonetheless. "You heard me, and I've got the feeling that you've known it for quite some time now."

He couldn't stop though. "Don't come home tonight. I don't want you there. Hell, you should've gotten bitten, for all I care."

--

You cursed yourself for getting close to that old grump. You didn't mean to say it, but you meant it, and you thought he felt the same. You left him there, then, not allowing him to see just how his words affected you. It was ridiculous really, how you let him get to you, but you liked the normalcy of Jackson, no matter how bad you were at it. You felt bad for leaving Ellie, but you thought it was best. Joel was right in that manner, she deserved a guardian that could keep themselves alive.

So that afternoon you talked to Tommy about taking your horse for a little joyride that evening, and though he wasn't too happy with your push for it, he obliged. It was past midnight when you came into the building you used to call home. You got your little belongings together, those consisting of a photo of the three of you, some flasks of water, some flasks of a liquid that was not water, some food, some weaponry, a journal, and went downstairs.

You scribbled a little note for Joel and went on your way. You couldn't look back, because if you did, you'd stay. Part of you broke as you imagined Ellie's reaction come the morning, but you continued on.

You didn't know where you were going, but you didn't really care.

--

After talking with Ellie that afternoon about what happened once the guilt had consumed him, Joel sought you out. You hadn't come home that night, and though in his fury he told you to do exactly that, he didn't expect you to actually do it.

He had checked the spare bedrooms but found only empty spaces. His heart started to drop as his hopes to see you dwindled. It was when he walked to the kitchen table was he met with someone. Ellie sat there, eyes glued to the small piece of paper in her hands, a tear slipping down her face. At the presence of Joel, she whipped her head towards him.

"I thought you were going to fucking talk it out." Her eyes were red, and she spoke with a bite. "Go get your fucking stuff, we're bringing them back." She stood up and went to go gather her stuff he assumed, leaving the paper on the table. He walked over and picked it up, the guilt returning as he read his name in your handwriting.

Joel,

Guess it really all was just one sided. You were the first person in years that I let myself care about, and I guess I'm facing the consequences. Like you said, you can't worry if I don't come back if there's no back to go to.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he felt his heart become erratic.

Ellie,

I'm sorry. I hope you forgive me for leaving, but please don't hate me for it. If I were to stay, it would just be awkward between Joel and I, and eventually you probably wouldn't see much of me anyways. Love you, kid.

I'm sorry.

--

Yeah, this was a mistake. You'd been with people for too long that you grew to be rusty by yourself, and it was costing you, big time. You had been on foot for who knows how long now, but it was dark and sleep was slowly lulling you to its call, so you didn't hear that someone caught onto your trail and began to follow you. It wasn't until a twig snapped no more than fifteen feet behind you that you caught on, and by then it was too late.

A short fight later, death had found another, and there was a nasty stab wound in your shoulder.

You had thought to bring food and water, but why you forgot a med kit was beyond you. So, here you were, your horse waiting by the creekside, while you tried to find something that would hold enough pressure to prevent you from passing out. That was quickly coming to no avail though you realized, and you cursed at yourself for being so torn by rage from your fight with Joel to prepare properly.

You could see drops of your blood reflect in the morning dew that coated the grass. This wouldn't be lethal if you found a way to patch it up, but you were losing hope by the second.

Being agitated enough to find a solution, you decided to press on the wound with your hand, causing your sight to briefly black out in pain. A groan surpassed you, and you begrudgingly dragged yourself to your horse, doing your best to keep the reins in place via a bigger rock, and slumped down against it. If you could rest for just a few minutes and regain your breath, then you could focus better on what was around you that could help. Just a few minutes, you promised yourself, and the darkness overcame your shutting eyes.

--

It was the sound of another horse that jostled you from your unconsciousness. Looking around, it took you a half a moment to recognize where you were, a part of you aching for the comfort of your shared bed. But that's when everything came flooding back.

Joel. The fight. The note. The stabbing.

You looked skyward and groaned when you saw the paint of warm colour canvasing the blue. With a curse and a deep breath, you pushed yourself up, barely making it to a standing position before the pain overcame you again. You risked a look to your clavicle, and to your dismay, it was looking a whole (no pun intended) lot worse. You figured that you should've known that sleeping it off wouldn't heal a literal stab wound, but what the hell, it was worth a shot. The blood loss caught up to you making you lightheaded, and as you stumbled to your horse, you thought you were hallucinating, because you could swear that you heard Joel's voice.

The version of him that your mind had cruelly made up was coming closer, and jesus christ you were hallucinating Ellie's voice now too. The trees around you started to spin, and when you saw them turn towards the crest of the hill you looked up from, you actually laughed.

You were about to possibly die, and your mind had to punish you for it.

Calling up to the false images, you got their attention with slurred speech. "Shit, you can't even let me go in peace, can you?" Another sour laugh followed your accusation, and the hallucinations had their own conversation before rushing down to you.

Getting off Callus, Ellie slapped Joel's chest at the sight of your shoulder. "Holy fucking shit, guess we know what the blood trail led to." She moved to you after that with Joel not too far behind, but you put all the remaining strength into stepping back from them.

"I know you're both not real, but I don't know why you're still here." This must have been the precursor to death's entrance because that could be the only rationale for this. "You clearly got your way, Joel, now go away so I can please die with some closure."

It was a shame that this is how you went really, with a wound from a dirty blade, but alas. Fake-Joel crossed the distance between the three of you, grabbing onto your good side with eyes wide, examining the injury. "When did this happen?" His eyes sought yours, and you rolled yours in response. "Ellie! Get the bandages from my pack!"

You gave a poor attempt at backing away. "Can't you just leave me be? You told me to go and made it quite clear how you felt about me." You were slipping, and could feel the darkness whispering your name.

"I'm real, this is real honey."

The little amount of push in you snapped, because you scowled in response. "Don't call me honey." You glanced at his hands, noticing that they were moving to the wound. "Plus, if you were real, I wouldn't want to speak to you. So what, I said that I loved--" A gasp caught the end of your sentence, the pain clearing your sight as he started to put pressure on your shoulder. "--love you, but you knew it anyway. We were a family, like you said, and I let my guard down for you--" You had used more energy than you thought on that last sentence, with nothing more than a whisper allowing itself to get through for any other words you had.

Ellie had given Joel gauze by then, and he started packing the wound as best he could. "El, get the horses together, we're takin' them back." He spoke your name then, and you wanted to cry out to the universe for making you think this up. "Bet that felt real, yeah? Listen, I know I said some things earlier, but I really didn't mean them. I'm not that good with bein' vulnerable yet, and I'm still learnin', but I shouldn't have acted that way." Your name spilled from his lips again, and why was he saying all of this now? He continued to talk, but you didn't hear anymore, your eyes unfocusing and starting to shut, the darkness finally coming to claim you.

--

It had been nearly a full day that you were out, and even though Joel knew that it was partially due to whatever the doc had given you, he was damn near terrified. All of the day's events seemed like a blur, and by the time he was given the okay to stay in the room with you, he had had his fair share of tears. Ellie sat next to him in the chairs he brought up from the dining room, the temporary cot in his room that held you looking extremely out of place.

He had apologized to you more times than he could count while you were out, but the guilt that still racked him rang strong. He had failed, again, this time because he was too bull-headed to talk it out.

Ellie's nudges brought him out of his train of thought, her voice saying your name as your eyes opened. A string of cusses flowed from you as you came to, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Once he had offered you some water, he saw your features twist into skepticism.

"If I'm dead, this is not what I was expecting."

Of course you'd say something like that, trying to diffuse any awkwardness of the situation. Joel played off of it, because he'd prefer this to anger any day. "Yeah, we're actually angels."

That got a snort out of Ellie, and a weak smile from you, one of his own following not soon after.

A few seconds passed in the welcomed silence of each other's presence, but all too soon things became real again.

"I don't know how much you remember from out there, but you gave us a real scare." His hand gingerly reached for your arm, silently asking for permission to hold it, sighing a breath of relief when you nodded. You weren't one for physical touch, especially after an argument, so this felt like a hopeful sign "I really am sorry about what I said to you. I shouldn't have, and I didn't mean a lick of it. I care about you more than I have for nearly anyone else, and I--" The words caught in his throat, and your eyes followed his as they searched the room for an answer.

"Joel," you murmured, eyes on him. "Shit happened, we can talk about it all later, yeah? You don't have to give any confessions now." You kept trying to break the tension there, and he could assume it was due to Ellie being there.

He pushed through though, because Joel Miller was a stubborn man, and damn it if he hadn't been working up the courage to say it since you all re-entered Jackson's gates. "No, no, I want to say it, and I mean it."

"I love you too."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller apologist #joel miller angst #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us fanfiction #ellie williams #the last of us spoilers #tlou spoilers #tlou hbo spoilers #pedro pascal

[moonrachas]

mirage | two

pairing: hybrid!ot7 x human(f)!reader

genre: hybrid au

word count: 4.5k

warnings: mentions of mistreatment, mentions of stalking, swearing, y/n gets horny (for like one second), smut in later chapters

summary: Your daily life was getting repetitive until one morning when your friends force you to adopt some hybrids. Coming home with four, things seem to be going well until three animals show up at your door, and they don’t seem to want to leave anytime soon...

a/n: hi guys! i was planning on making a taglist for this story. If you're interested, just comment or send an ask and i'll add you!! also, i'm going to make a post for visuals on how each of them look like.

You quickly wipe your eyes, turning to your friends.

They scan the room, searching for the cause of your sudden tears, until their eyes land on the familiar black fur, looking almost identical to your previous cat.

”It’s okay y/n, do you want to look at any of the other enclosures?” Kai says, rubbing your back.

Part of you wants to listen and just look at the other animals, but another part of you is drawn to the cat. You lock eyes, and you look away, embarrassed. You almost forget that it’s part human.

Eventually, you decide that you will just listen to your heart and purchase this cat. You were planning to just ignore it, trying to avoid the future “I told you so”s from your friends, but you can almost feel the connection.

“No, thats okay, I think i’ll just get that one.” You walk over to the worker in the end of the room.

“Excuse me, I’d like to adopt that black cat hybrid over there in the corner.” You point at the small enclosure. The cats are watching you intently. You wonder how long they’ve been waiting in this place. You see some rush up to the front, wanting to be the one noticed and chosen by you.

“That one?” The worker says with a confused look on his face. “Are you sure? He’s in that little place for a reason, you know.”

“What for?” You turn back, confused. The cat doesn’t look harmful, well, to you at least. It looks like it’s doing the same as any of the other cats in the room. You watch as it attempts to pick up a ball, only for the ball to fly up and hit the cat in face. It jumps and runs away, mortified. You press your lips together and hold back a giggle, turning back to the worker.

“Well, we can’t really enclose specifics to our customers, but that little thing is a troublemaker.” He scratches his head, looking you in the eye. “If you really want it, just know that it might be a little rowdy.”

You nod in agreement. “I’ll see about that.”. You watch as the worker goes inside the enclosure, picking up the scared cat that was hiding in it’s cat tower from the ball. It looks up at him, confused. You miss the way the gray cat in the same enclosure tries to grab it’s friend, resisting his grip.” The worker then manages to pull it away, and walks back to you.

“Hybrids usually mostly stay in their human forms, but they may shift from time to time from either wanting to play or being scared. He never been owned before.”

He? Owned? It now comes to your attention that you are adopting someone, and it feels morally wrong to do so. But your kind heart wants to save him in a way, since you know you would go crazy if you were the one living in the enclosure.

“He will be in the front when you’re ready!” The worker places it in a cage, carrying it out of the room. You turn around, noticing that your friends are gone. Pulling out your phone, you read a few texts from Kai.

Huka: Hey y/n, we wanted to give you some space so we split up and decided to look at the other enclosures.

You quickly send back a “sounds good” as you are now left alone with your thoughts. Feeling the rush, you decide to go and check out another enclosure. Getting one more can’t hurt, right? It’s not like Yuna and Kai are here to tell you no! Besides, your cat hybrid seems like he would need a friend.

You turn over to the other side of the room, walking up to the dog section. You look around the room, watching all of the dogs playing, chasing each other, or wrestling. As your eyes focus on what’s in front of you, you spot a big dog with golden fur staring at you, panting. It’s cute eyes and seated position shows that it wants to play.

“You’re so cute.” You coo, pouting your lips.

You decide to check out the other dogs first. But every time you move to the side to see, the dog walks in the same direction as you, blocking your way. You stare at it confused, and it stares back, almost smiling at you.

You stand on your tippy toes to try to look over it but it just stands on its hind legs, scratching at the glass.

“You little-”

“Hey! What are you doing outside of your enclosure?” The worker runs up to the dog, picking it up. The dog whines as he tries to escape the worker’s grip.

“Wait wait wait, I want to adopt that one.” You say as the worker is about to place it back, surprising both him and yourself.

“This one? Are you sure? Hes a good dog, yeah, but he’s full of mischief.”

“Yeah i’m sure.” You say confidently. The worker brings up the dog hybrid to the front as well.

You thought you would stop there, but no. You need more, your heart and brain having two conflicting thoughts as you decide on whether or not to stop. But your decision was already made as you walked to the next room, filled with the small animal hybrids. You know you need the company, since coming home to a quiet, empty house has been bringing down your mood for so long. Maybe your friends were right, maybe all you needed were some friends.

You observe the small animal hybrids, watching them run around. In the middle, you see a little maze set up for them. Guinea pigs are sleeping in little sheltered beds. You hear their cute squeaks of joy as they play.

In yet another small enclosure, you spot a bunny and a hamster fighting over.. an apple? You watch as the hamster nibbles on the golden brown bunny’s ears, causing it to jump back in surprise. The hamster then runs for the apple, it’s tiny feet only carrying it away slowly as the bunny follows closely behind.

Intrigued, you fight back the tiny voices in your head that are telling you to stop, and ask the worker for those two. There’s no way you could separate them. They get taken to the front, and you find Yuna and Kai back at the big animal enclosure.

“So, did you find one that you wanted?” Yuna grabs your shoulders, staring down at you.

“I did.” You say back, deciding not to reveal anything else.

As you walk back to the front, you notice Kai holding a hedgehog in his arms.

“What- or who, is that?” You ask, staring at the little creature.

“Oh, this? This is Odi, i bought him for my friend Soobin. He’s been a bit lonely in our house recently.”

“Huh, looks like a lot of people came to buy hybrids today. I could’ve sworn there was like no one in each room..” Yuna says, staring at the hybrid cages next to the worker behind the register.

“Actually, those are all mine.” You say, look up at them. You watch as the golden retriever hybrid pants happily.

“I’m sorry, what? What happened to you being against it?” Kai says, pointing his finger at you and tilting his head. “You were all like I’m an independent women with goals and hybrids would only distract me blah blah blah” he says in a mocking tone.

“Shut up!” You whisper shout, smacking his hand away. I’m a new woman.”

He mumbles a “whatever” as you go up and purchase the hybrids.

“Welcome back y/n! I hope you found your hybrids without any issues today. So the first one is a black British Shorthair cat hybrid. This one’s a Golden Retriever hybrid. And these two..” he points to the small animals, “are a golden Palomino rabbit and a golden hamster. Since you’re buying four, I’d hope you have a stable income to take care of them. Just sign these papers and you’ll be all set!”

“Alright thank you!” You quickly sign the stack of papers, all being about the safety of you and the hybrids. You hand over the papers back with a smile.

The three of you- well, eight of you, leave the building and walk over to the car, with Yuna carrying the small animals, Kai carrying the dog hybrid and Odi, and you carrying the cat hybrid. You place the hybrids in the trunk of your car and sit inside.

Arriving home, your friends wave goodbye and wish you good luck. You miss the three pairs of eyes that were watching you outside, hiding behind a bush.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Your hybrids stand awkwardly behind you in your living room, now in human form. You’ve managed to give them clothes from your ex that forgot to take his stuff back. It was a little loose, but it would do for now.

It was very hard to focus straight when you were alone in your house with four very handsome men. You never expected this, but you had to make do.

“Hi everyone! You can call me y/n. I hope you all feel welcome in your new home. Let’s sit on the couch to discuss a few things.” You lead them to the couch, and you sit opposite of them. They walk weirdly in a single file line, stumbling a little, not used to being in their human form. The dog hybrid walks closely behind the cat, almost like it’s for comfort.

Surprisingly, the tiny hamster hybrid is actually the tallest in human form, his sharp eyes making your insides feel weird. The bunny hybrid has a black mole on his face, with golden brown hair.

You stand up to go and get some water for them, so the hybrids were left alone on the couch. The dog hybrid looks around, scanning the room and making sure there was no way you could hear them. “What are we gonna do about the others?” He asks, one ear up to listen for any sign that you are coming.

The hamster hybrid pauses, thinking. “We might have to sneak them back out.” He looks at the others for their approval.

“Are you crazy? They caught us last time! Who’s to say they won’t do it again? Anyways, we can worry about that later. Y/n seems nice and maybe we could get her to help us.” The cat hybrid shrugs, more relaxed than the others.

“Help us? She would never.”

“I’m back, sorry for the wait. I was trying to carry four glasses but i realized i could just carry four bottles.” You laugh at yourself, handing each of them a bottle. “So, I was thinking of ways you guys could start to get to know each other-” You get interrupted and turn your head to see the golden retriever hybrid silently laughing. Realizing you are looking, he masks it with a cough. He mumbles a sorry, clearing his throat.

“Um anyways, I think we should start with names?” You say, looking up at the bunny hybrid sitting on the left. “We can just go in order.”

“Hello everyone, I’m Sunghoon.” The bunny hybrid says, waving at everyone. You immediately take note of his deep, raspy voice. The rest wave back at him and you all turn your attention on the hamster hybrid.

“Hi I’m Heeseung.” He says with a smile.

The dog hybrid starts, “Hi, I’m Jake.” You notice his cute Aussie accent. Immediately after he introduces himself, he starts laughing, unable to look anyone in the eye without losing it.

“Okay can someone tell me what’s going on?” You say, tired of being confused.

“Okay fine. We already all know each other. You can call me Jay.” The black cat hybrid says. “We weren’t always in that little hybrid adoption center. We lived freely for a while, until one night we were captured and they told us about this rule about hybrids having to be owned by humans. We got split up in the center, so this is basically our first time talking to each other in a while, and it’s a bit awkward.”

You suddenly feel sorry for them. Knowing they were a part of the same group and then being separated just because they’re hybrids breaks your heart. “I’m so sorry that happened! I don’t want it to seem like I own you, just picture me as a friend, like how you guys see each other.”

The hybrids all give each other a look, and then turn back to you. “You see,” Sunghoon starts, “It doesn’t really work like that.”

“What do you mean?” You get interrupted for what feels like the hundredth time by scratching on the door. You get up from the couch, walking with the boys following closely behind. Looking through the peephole of the front door, you don’t see anyone, so you assume it may be a package. Opening the door, you look outside to see no one, so you almost step outside until you hear a loud bark, making you jump.

“AH! What the hell!” You look down to see a fox, cat, and dog sitting closely together, shivering slightly due to the wind. The sun was starting to set, so you couldn’t really see them properly.

“No fucking way.” You turn to the boys behind you, who look like they’ve just seen a ghost. Jake doesn’t realize you’ve turned around, still mouthing something to the three animals. You then realized that they know each other.

“You guys better explain this.” You signal the animals to come inside as you shake your head.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The hybrids are now all in their human forms, sitting on the couch with the three unknown ones sitting on the ground in front of them. With the other dog hybrid sitting in front if Jay, he reaches down and pets the other dog hybrid’s hair and back of ears. You stand in front of them, crossing your arms and pinching the top of your nose.

“How the fuck did you three get out of the adoption center?” You squint your eyes at them.

“Relax! This wasn’t even the first time.” The dog hybrid smiles proudly.

“Relax? I could get in so much trouble for this. I don’t even know your names.”

“I’m Niki, the one next to me is Sunoo,” the fox hybrid waves at you, his smile looking adorable, “and next to him is Jungwon.” Jungwon also waves, dimples on full display.

“I’m y/n.” you reply with a small wave. “Wait, the first time? You’ve all done this before?” You raise your eyebrows, confused. The situation keeps getting worse, and you worry that this may end horribly. What if I get caught with them? You wonder. Or worse, end up in jail? You pace your living room, freaking out. All of a sudden you feel strong arms being wrapped around you. You turn over to see Jungwon hugging you with a smile.

“Are you okay y/n? Please let us stay with you. I promise we’ll be good!”

How could you say no to him? He’s looking at you like you with so much adoration, and you can’t help but smile at that. You remember how they mentioned them being split up, so you can’t help but feel sorry for them. But looking at the rest of the boys, they don’t look too happy.

Jay’s jaw is clenched, ears sticking out and tail stiff. Heeseung is gripping the edge of the couch, a low hiss coming out as he stares at Jungwon.

You look back at Jungwon, slightly pulling away. “Fine, I’ll let you guys stay tonight. It’s been a long day, and all I want is some rest.”

“Great!” Jake suddenly appears next to Jungwon, pulling him away. "You should go and get some sleep, we’ll take care of everything!”

“Okay, you guys need to share rooms, there’s three available. Goodnight you guys.” You say as you walk upstairs, going straight for the shower.

As soon as they’re alone, Sunghoon breaks the silence. “What are we going to do? We have to convince her to let us all stay.”

“What do you mean? She already said we could.” Jungwon replies.

“No, she said you can stay tonight, shes probably going to wake up tomorrow and once she starts thinking properly again, she’s probably not going to know what to do.” Heeseung interrupts.

“Whatever let’s worry about this tomorrow I’m tired.” Sunoo whines, dragging out the last word. They make their way upstairs. Outside the first door, they hear the water running from your shower.

Jake turns to Sunghoon, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking.

“Dude, seriously, stop.” Sunghoon says, shaking his head. The rest turn to face the two.

“Stop what?” Jake acts confused to make Sunghoon look stupid.

“Can you two stop? We need to decide on rooms.” Jungwon scolds them, and they both nod. Once the rest turn back around, Jake smirks at Sunghoon, and the bunny hybrid groans.

After walking a bit more, they reach the hallway with the bedrooms. On the walls near the end there are four doors, with the very end being the last door. Heeseung opens the door closest to them, and then first sees a bed with beige sheets and colorful character plushies on them. On the wall are posters of various bands. He quickly shuts it, realizing that it's yours. They open the next three doors, all consisting the same things with different layouts; A bed, a dresser, and a small bathroom connected to it.

Sunghoon and Jake decide on the room next to yours. At first, Sunghoon was hesitant to room with Jake, but after a long please and puppy eyes, he was quick to reconsider. The room across from yours was taken by Jungwon and Sunoo.

The last room, which was also the biggest room, was taken by Jay, Niki, and Heeseung. They didn’t mind who they were going to room with, so they were okay with anyone as their roommates as long as they had the biggest room. You all fall asleep, excited for the next day.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You wake up to the smell of fresh pancakes and coffee. Coffee was something you couldn’t resist, so instead of staying in bed for an extra thirty minutes like you usually do, you immediately get up. After washing up in the bathroom, you head downstairs.

Walking into the kitchen, you see a shirtless Jay cooking at the oven with Jake, Sunghoon, and Sunoo sitting down at the table. Your eyes scan Jay, watching as his back muscles whenever he moves. Jake and Sunghoon are still half asleep while Sunoo is eating his pancakes. “Do you like pancakes, y/n?” Jay turns around, watching as you struggle to form words.

“O-of course I like pancakes.” You quickly rush over to join the boys at the table, purposely facing away from Jay to keep yourself together. Sunoo looks at Jay knowingly and then turns back around to continue eating his food. The others join you, having to force Heeseung out of bed, and you can’t help but smile. You can’t remember the last time you had company for breakfast. The usual quietness of your home is replaced by the sound of laughter and conversation as you finally have people to surround yourself with. Taking a bite of one of Jay’s pancakes, you groan at how amazing it tastes. “Mmm, I didn’t know you were such a good cook Jay!”

“I used to cook for everyone before. This isn’t even half as good as what I used to be able to make back then. I missed cooking, so thank you for letting me use your kitchen.” He smiles at you.

You return a smile back, and Jay insists he washes everyone’s plates. While everyone is still in the kitchen, you decide it’s best to tell them the plans for the day.

“I was thinking about everyone staying here and I wanted everyone to have more of their own items in our home, so how does going shopping sound?” You ask. Everyone agrees excitedly and heads up to change upstairs.

You drive everyone to the store, and they couldn’t stop moving the whole ride. “You guys can go around now, I’ll meet you when you’re done.” You say as you enter the store. They rush off into the store, and you get bored only 5 minutes in, with nothing to do. So you walk over to the toys aisle, where you spot a familiar pair of red ears. Turning the corner, you see Sunoo staring at the stuffed animals, Niki and Jake closeby. “What do you think about this one y/n?” Jungwon holds up a grey cat tree in between his arms. “It could fit both me and Jay!”

“That looks nice!” You say as you push him your empty cart to place the item in.

“I’d bet y/n could fit in there. She’s tiny.” Niki laughs.

“Hey, what about this hamster plushie!” Sunoo waves it around, wanting your approval.

“We don’t need that, we already have Heeseung.” Niki laughs, causing you all to laugh too.

“Don’t forget to shop for clothes too.” You walk away, looking for the others.

You see Jay looking at graphic tees, his cart next to him. Walking over, you look inside his cart, and find it completely filled with ramen, meat, vegetables, and new cooking tools. “What’s all this?” You ask.

“Oh, Heeseung just wanted some ramen.” He says, unphased.

“Yeah? And what about the rest?”

“Oh..” He puts the shirt down to look at you. “Sorry, am I not supposed to get this?” He asks, ears flat against his head.

“Oh no don't worry, it’s all good!” You reassure him. He says thank you and you wait for the boys at the front.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You are met with a smiley group of boys and three completely filled carts. You wouldn’t have bought this much for them, but it’s so hard for you to say no at them when they’re looking at you like this. You have a lot of saving anyways, since you have been living alone for a while.

The first cart has hoodies, sweatpants, shirts, and jeans. There are slides, two being black, two being white, and 3 being gray. “We wanted to get matching ones with our roommates.” Sunghoon explains.

In the next cart, there are toys. There is a cat tower that Jungwon showed you earlier, tennis balls for the dog hybrids, a wheel for the hamster hybrid, and plushies for the fox hybrid. “Who put that there?” Heeseung points to the hamster plushie, the three youngest snickering in the back.

In the last cart, there is food and cooking supplies combined with hygiene products. To your surprise, there is a complete set of skincare products. You question their knowledge on it, but realize they haven't been able to use any in a while, so you let them get it.

You think about other things they might possibly need, although the three full carts make it nearly impossible to come up with any. You then remember that they may need cell phones for an emergency. What if you were out at work, or hanging out with Yuna and Kai? What if someone breaks in, or they get lost somewhere? You suddenly feel like a mom leaving their kids for the first time.

“Should we go pay?” Niki asks.

“Actually, you guys need a phone for emergencies.” You think of an idea since buying a phone for all seven of them would be impossible. “All of you should share one phone.”

You all walk to the phone section, letting them pick the one they wanted. They take a bit too long, so you go and check on them. Jake and Niki are giggling in the corner. You check to see what they’re doing, and see them spamming pictures of themselves doing funny faces on the poor phone. You scoff and see the other five actually decided between two phones. They finally grab a black phone, showing it to you. You ask a worker to get you a box, and buy it at the small counter there.

About to puchase the rest of your things, you pause. “Wait, we need to get you guys some collars.”

“Collars? For what?” Sunoo asks.

“You’re not allowed to be outside without a collar. Otherwise they’d take you back in the shelter again.” You explain, and their faces drop. The shelter tries to treat them well, but with more and more hybrids getting taken in, the enclosures are getting more full, meaning they had to say in packed areas, with barely any room to play. They also barely had chances to go outside, so their insticts haven’t been well trained for a while. They enjoy staying in your home, so getting captured again would be their worst nightmare.

“Even us?” the fox, bunny, and hamster hybrid asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” You lead them to the collar section. There were many different patters, ranging from stripes to hearts, but they wanted plain ones. Deciding to match with their roomates again, Jake and Sunghoon grab blue collars, Jay, Niki, and Heeseung got black collars, and Jungwon and Sunoo got pink collars. You can’t help but wonder how they would look with those on in human form, and you clench around nothing at the thought of that.

“So, are we all set?” Heeseung interrupts your thoughts.

“Oh yeah sorry, let’s go.” You buy all of the items, with the total being more than 2 weeks of work. Going home, The three youngest start to set up their toys while the rest put the food away.

Being alone for so long has left you miserable. You’re so used to an empty home, with most of your nights spent by watching shows or scrolling on your phone, that you feel so warm inside with the hybrids living with you. You want to be able to talk to them about your life, but you guys aren’t that close yet. Your main goal right now is to just make them feel at home here and feel free, just like any other human being.

But how can you guys get closer? You remember this park that you’ve always wanted to visit ever since you moved here, but you never went since you were so caught up with your ex. You walk into the kitchen, where the boys are making dinner.

“Hey guys, how do you feel about going to the park tomorrow?”

a/n: reminder that i am making a taglist for this story, meaning you will be tagged in any future updates whenever the next chapters are posted. comment or send an ask if you're interested!!

Ⓒ strawwonies 2022

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