#this better work the second time tumblr i swear

[uravitypng]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: bakusquad x chubby reader (katsuki bakugo + hanta sero + mina ashido + eijiro kirishima + denki kaminari)

word count: 4.4k words

a/n: definitely haven't been working on this for months <33 this turned out more fluffy than intended for a free use fic asdfghj. basically they all need to be dating!!! none of the bakusquad have any contact with each other... yet... idk i might make a part two where they're not just taking turns but all together with the reader

content warnings: free use, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (f!recieving & m!recieving), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, groping, biting, dumbification, slight breeding mention, somno, wlw, spanking, petnames - mdni (like my whole tumblr)

when becoming friends and roommates with the bakusquad you didn't realise what it would exactly entail. becoming friends with five successful pro heroes while you're a civilian is something you would never expect, not in your wildest dreams, so it's not a surprise to you that your feelings for them grew with each day and after a particular turn of events you let them use you however they wanted. if they want to take out their frustrations of a stressful day by roughly fucking you than you're more than willing to oblige to their request or if they want to tenderly make love to you after an emotional and exhausting day you're more than willing to oblige- you're their toy after all.

they'll use you anywhere and anywhen, it doesn't matter if you're in public or if you're sleeping, you've given them your full consent.

the first time it happened was with katsuki. he was angry and annoyed and you didn't know what to do, you've never truly seen him like this before and you haven't been friends with him as long as the others have been friends with him, you didn't want to make it worse. ideally you would ask the others what you should do but they were all busy working.

you later found out a journalist cornered him after a minor rescuing incident and asked him more intrusive questions than normal and that day it got to him more than normal too. for some reason the press always seems to ask him more personal questions than other heroes you know and you can't figure out why but you have a few ideas: to see his reaction, to get more information about his private life from him because he's one of the more secretive heroes, or to see his 'real' personality wondering if everything they see in public is all just an image.

"i'm sorry katsuki. is there anything i can do to make you feel a bit better?" you ask him and in less then ten seconds he's pinned you against the wall and is biting your bottom lip making you moan, giving him the opportunity to move his tongue into your mouth, intertwining your tongues and muffling any surprised noises that threaten to come out of you. you feel his large callus palms run all over your body as he pushes up your shirt and touches every single part of his skin he can get his hands on, leaving bruises and pretty marks to decorate your equally pretty body.

katsuki shoves his hand underneath your underwear, not bothering to take off your clothes and fingers you until you start screaming his name and your vision begins to go blurry.

"holy shit katsuki. feel's so good." he pumps two of his thick fingers inside of you and his ego soars as he not only feels how wet you are but hears it too as your cunt squelches and you clench around his fingers. he smirks as you come undone on his fingers chanting his name over and over again, your fists gripping onto his shirt tightly.

"this'll make me feel better," he grunts and tries to press his body closer to yours than it already was, your tits now completely pressed against him. "god shitty woman how oblivious can ya be? swear you're useless sometimes. a fucking dumbass." if you were someone else you might have taken offence to him calling you shitty woman or useless especially in the position you're currently in but you're use to him calling you names by now knowing he doesn't mean them negatively, if anything they're affectionate, most of the time he'll call people extras and you're glad he doesn't see you as an extra.

"oblivious?"

katsuki grits his teeth, "shut up," he grunts and you feel his hardened cock against your thigh, he slams his lips against yours again and starts kissing you even more furiously, if you didn't know better you'd say passionately but you don't think he'd ever kiss you passionately.

he sees your eyes glazed over with a daze on your face and smirks. his hand goes behind you to cups the curve of your ass then slaps with the sound echoing against the walls, making you whine. you feel the humidity that's resting on his palms and your whole body tingles imaging him using his quirk (controlled) on you.

"no one else has made ya feel this good have they sweetheart?" he asks gruffly already knowing the answer.

"no, no one else 'suki. no one has ever made me ever feel this good!" you reply honestly, tears starting to fill your waterline.

he knows you're being honest and if anything you're being more forgiving of your previous sexual encounters and talking more favourable about your past sexual partners than they deserve. "fuckin' criminal."

after what happened with katsuki you sat down with your friends and told them that you give them your consent to use you whenever. katsuki looked so much calmer after and his body looked more relaxed, less tension. you couldn't help but think that your other friends would be the same.

you were bashful the whole time while speaking, mumbling and looking away, your whole face felt like it were on fire but you were offering to help them all, you knew how stressful their work is and you wanted to help.

you want them, you wouldn't tell them that part though, neither did you ever have to think hard on your proposal.

all of them loved the idea, why wouldn't they? they're madly in love with you. over time all of them fell in love with you but none of them would ever make a move on you not willing to lose or jeopardise the friendship they have with you nor are they willing to make a move while knowing how the others feel about you either. you're sweet, and kind, and beautiful, and brilliant, and a hundred million more things that make you special in their eyes.

none of them thought they would ever get the chance to be with you in any such way, romantic or sexual, and they were more then content with being your friend, strictly platonic, but now they get to be your friend and they get to sleep with you, they're ecstatic.

hanta likes cockwarming with you, every single chance he gets he pulls you onto his lap and onto his cock without warning and puts on a movie to watch as he watches you squirm and try to keep still but it's so hard keeping still when the longest dick you've ever seen is inside of you and you feel it throbbing.

hanta sees you struggling and grins as you shift around and whimper quietly. you're biting your hand to try to keep silent but it's ineffective. "hush princesa, i'm trying to watch the film." he says teasingly, holding onto your plush waist to keep you from moving and lifts up your top, caressing your soft skin making you get goosebumps from the sensation of his cold rings touching you.

occasionally he'll lazily thrust up into you, making you squeak, he'll chuckle at the noises you make and get off on how needy you are for him. "you look so beautiful sitting on my lap mi amor," your heart flutters and your face heats up whenever he calls you affectionate names in his first language and especially when he calls you my love, "but aren't you suppose to be pleasing me? you seem very needy and demanding for someone who has offered their body to me." you shudder as he speaks, still with his hand caressing your body.

you look at him and pout, causing his grin to widen. "not my fault, you feel really good."

hanta's voice drops lower and becomes husky while he leans closer to you, "yeah?"

you nod your head and try to wrap your arms around him, admittedly unsuccessfully from the position you're currently in as you're facing away from him to 'watch' the movie with him, making hanta chuckle. "yeah," you reply.

hanta smirks as he looks down at you over your shoulder and tenderly strokes your arm, "beg me to move." with no hesitation you beg.

with everyone else they'll take what they want from you and get you to come as many times as they want (if they do want you to cum) without you having to beg but hanta is different, he'll make you cry and beg for him. no matter how horny he is he'll wait for you to become putty in his hands as you cry buried in the crook of his neck, trying to grind against him and wetting his shoulder with your tears, pleading for anything he gives you. he loves seeing you cry for him and plead for his cock.

you're always so pliant for him and he likes to make you even more pliant. as your reward for listening to him he grabs your wide hips and starts to move you up and down, harshly, making the ability to breathe leave your body momentarily at the sudden movement all while cooing at you, albeit condescendingly. "awe does that feel good princesa? you finding it hard to take it all?" he grins as you tip your head back and rests it on his shoulder, your moans getting louder, unable to respond and form a coherent sentence.

you feel like you feel him all the way in throat, a completely impossible thought of course but it's hard to think otherwise with each time he slams you back down and your pelvis meets his it's making you lose every braincell you have with how good you feel and how good he fills you up.

"open up," you compliantly open your mouth still in a daze and hanta spits in your mouth, grinning as he watches you swallow it without any prior audible command to do so already knowing from previous liaisons.

his pace changes, every so often becoming quicker with shallow thrusts than back to a regular pace with deeper thrusts just to tease you and make you light headed, not knowing what to expect next. his groans become more audible and he grips onto you tighter, his blunt nails making a crescent imprint on your hips. "s-shit hanta i can't, too much."

"i thought you were my good girl. you were begging for me only awhile ago." he smirks, starting to get close.

"i am! i am your good girl, promise! just 's a lot."

he chuckles at your obedience, you really are his good girl, made for him- and the others.

but he does wonder if you're that obedient with them as you are with him.

he purposefully slows down his pace and wraps one arm around your supple middle keeping you bouncing and tilts your chin up to look at him with his other hand before placing a gentle chaste kiss on your lips.

mina seizes every opportunity to lay lingering wet kisses down your neck all the way to your chest. you get goosebumps as you feel her breath against your skin and feel the sticky lipgloss left over from her lips.

mina never wears lipstick but she's nearly always seen wearing lipgloss and they're always flavoured ones, enjoying the look of how the sticky remnant remains on your skin after being transferred from her lips and how you seemingly unconsciously swipe your tongue out over your own lips afterwards to taste the flavour that remains.

whenever a man comes onto her apparently not understanding the word 'no' she comes straight to you afterwards so she can feel you up and touch your soft body and curves. you're so much better than anyone else and she's so glad that you let her touch you however and whenever she wants.

beforehand when someone was so persisted that it grossed her out she still would come to see you, you were roommates and very close friends after all. mina would complain about them and you would listen and bash them because how dare they keep being so disrespectful, unable to be take a hint or handle rejection.

the entire time when mina used to talk about them she'd think about how soft your lips looked, how good her hand would look wrapped around your throat and how she wants to go down on you so bad that you pull her hair and more importantly squeeze your thighs together in between her head.

"such a sweet little thing for me," she tells you and kisses your ankle. you whimper and she opens up your thighs wider for now, wanting to get a good look at your pretty pussy. mina flicks her tongue up against your pussy lips making a shiver run down your spine before her tongue enters into your soaking hole, moaning at your taste and your aroma, making her dizzy in the process. you can't help but squeal and shudder at the sensation as her eyes gleam with every new noise you make. she removes her tongue from inside of you, the sweet taste still lingering on her tongue. she flicks her tongue up again, curling two fingers back into you and starts sucking on your clit.

the pleasure builds up inside of you with every curl of her fingers, "that's a good girl, come for me," mina mumbles against your clit and you squeeze your thighs with mina's head between them, not being able to stop yourself as you're about to come again for the third time in an hour.

"oh fuck, min-" the last syllable of mina's name is silenced in an inaudible groan as the coil in your stomach snapped and you unravelled where she helped to ride out your orgasm still between your doughy thighs.

now she gets her wish whenever she wants as she's able to look up to see how your voluptuous body shakes. she gets to feel how soft and warm your thick thighs feel wrapped around her head.

as you calm down from another intense orgasm you move to look at mina, "what about you?" hinting that you desperately want to return the favour.

she can see the neediness in your eyes and giggles. "i can't right now sweet pea, i've got to go to work."

"already?"

mina giggles again, "i'll be back soon babes then we can carry on from where we left off, okay?" she smiles brightly and takes her leave feeling equalling as needy as you but who can blame her when she spent the last hour pleasuring you and feeling your plump body underneath hers and getting you see your gorgeous face scrunched up in pleasure. mina doesn't mind the needy feeling though as the look on your face is worth it as she leaves because she knows when she comes back home you'll make her feel just as good as she made you feel.

eijiro works nights a lot of the time which means typically you get woken up by him. this means most nights you sleep with only a nightie on or a baggy pyjama shirt foregoing underwear or pyjama bottoms so eijiro doesn't have to worry about fiddling with any layers and pulling them down. the only exemptions about the clothes are when it's particularly cold that night.

after work he'll want to feel your soft body squish in between his fingers as he presses down on your malleable skin, groping you wherever he can get his hands on and pumping his girthy cock in his other hand a couple times, wanting to be buried in that sweet cunt that he loves so much so it's no surprise to you to be woken up to his grunts and gentle thrusts.

whenever you do wake up he feels guilty. he knows you need, and like your sleep and he never intended to wake you up so he strokes the sides of your body and softly tells you to go back to bed while kissing your temple.

sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but no matter the outcome of trying to get you to go back to sleep your body always has the same reaction, mewls and moans leaving your body involuntarily and you becoming more and more wet with each thrust that it's dripping down to your thick thighs.

the times when you don't fall back to sleep you don't move much, very much a pillow princess in those moments but that's what eijiro prefers. he likes looking after you and treating you like the princess you are. he enjoys doing all the work so when you do wake up all you can do is rub your eyes sleepily and moan louder while he tries to shush you because no doubt someone has to be up in a few hours for patrol.

"p-please," you whine but you don't know what you're begging for. eijiro knows though as he pushes the remaining inches of his cock inside of you, you both hiss, and he slowly and deeply starts moving in you. you grab hold of his muscular forearms and whine about the pleasurable stretch.

you turn your head to the side so your neck is bare. he knows what you want more than your tired words can mumble out so he turns your neck further to the side than you did to keep you still and bites down, not hard enough to cause serious pain and break your skin but enough to hurt slightly and cause you to gasp, your mind momentarily going blank and your hips to jerk up.

before you started sleeping with eijiro you didn't know you liked the sensation of getting bitten so much until he bit you to keep himself quiet while at a very lively party. normally he wouldn't mind people hearing how good he makes you feel and vise versa but there was a minority of people at that party who were all trying to make a new hero commission and he didn't want to to draw attention to you or him with those people, knowing what the last commission did. even though you are just a civilian he wants to make sure they stay well away from you but still that wasn't enough to drag you into an empty room and fuck you until you couldn't stand after seeing how beautiful you looked that night.

ever since then biting became involved in your sex life. eijiro knew he liked biting people before you, he enjoys the surprised gasps and how bodies move but with you it's completely different, it's on a whole new level with how plump your body is, it's like heaven. no matter where he bites you there's always some part he can sink his teeth into making your body beautifully buck up uncontrollably. the whole experience and sensation making him groan and the noises you always make in bed are like no over- ethereal, just like the rest of you.

when he hears the slapping sound of your two bodies making contact get louder and louder and sees the creamy ring left over from each thrust he has to hold onto you tighter, gripping hold of your love handles, enough to leave bruises, and looking up at the ceiling not wanting to cum yet. he knows as soon as he looks down at your cute face or perfect body he'll immediately orgasm so to try and make himself last longer he'll look up.

that on top of the quicker pace and him touching your clit, just the way you like it, makes you come. you clench around him and moan words incomprehensibly causing him to come too as he feels you get tighter around him.

"gonna clean you up in a second baby just let me stay inside you for awhile." at this point you're both falling asleep, he wraps his muscular arms around you tighter and manhandles your chubby body so you're laying on top of him, your arm on his chest and your face in his neck, the whole time making sure his dick doesn't accidentally slip out of you. even though you're semi conscious you know that you're going to be sleeping like this all night, both of you are too tired to move, with your last moments of consciousness being your slow blinks that you use to gaze up at eijiro admiring how handsome he is, you like when his hair is down after showering because without it being styled to be spiky you can see his roots coming through, red mixing with his natural black, even now when he's half asleep and ready for bed he looks just as handsome as he does at any fancy hero event he attends. "you feel too good to get up and leave and anyway i've got to plug you full, breed you properly to make sure it sticks." he mumbles against your forehead half asleep, drifting off only a minute or so after.

out of everyone denki is the one to touch you the most, if no one else is kissing you he's taking the opportunity to kiss you and hold you all over. he's the most emotional and vulnerable when it comes to sex too. he feels safe around you, to let his carefree persona down and to be sensitive and vulnerable, just staying fully in the moment with you.

the first time you slept together, you kissed his chest all the way to his hips making his hips buck up. he had wanted you so bad for so long and now he finally had you.

originally, you had stroked his cock for the first time and you heard a string of moans and it immediately turned you on more than you already were. as he got closer to his release he said breathy, "please don't stop, this will probably be the only chance i ever get to touch you." it had shocked you not realising that he felt that way but you didn't stop, doing what you were told, and knowing you were going to talk to him after.

not long after, he came and you threw your arms around him, arms wrapped around his neck and clinging onto him. he was still catching his breath, "do you really think this was a one time thing denki? i told you all before that i want to do this." he blushed and squished your cheeks, a habit he had picked up on doing recently at the time, you swat his hands away and giggle, denki smiles.

denki is also the most possessive which surprised you, if you thought anyone would be possessive your guess would be katsuki but it's really denki. he gets jealous when you spend more time with the others than you do with him and will want your attention. it's even more noticeable when it comes to other people who aren't in the bakusquad.

if you ever smile too cheerfully at someone, laugh too loudly at someone's jokes or if someone flirts with you he gets extremely jealous, you never flirt back though, you have everything you need and sometimes you don't even realise they were flirting in the first place.

at times like that denki is the most vulnerable. as soon as you both get home he's kissing you tenderly and holding you like fragile treasured glass in his arms. most of the time he takes you to the bedroom and lays you on the bed but this time he pushes your head down gently and you fall to you knees carefully. "do you need a cushion babe?"

your heart warms at how considerate he is. you look up at him and shake your head, "i'm okay," you smile up at him and you don't miss the way his cheeks are dusted pink. unzipping his jeans and pulling them down, along with his boxers that already are wet with precum leaking from his cock, you kiss his thigh and stare at his .

denki holds onto your head as you part your lips and open your mouth, taking him in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks and grab a hold of his thighs. he keeps his hips still no matter how much he wants to rut inside your wonderful wet and warm mouth. when his hips do occasionally buck it makes you gag before he corrects himself and pushes back against the wall trying to control himself not to pound up into you, he wants you to control the pace. the moans that he makes as you take him further only spur you on as your pace gets quicker and your nose presses against his lean stomach momentarily before having to leave and gasp for air. denki may not be as thick as eijiro or as long as hanta but he's still big, more than people would assume, he's bigger than average (only if slightly.) denki's arm rests of his head while he takes deep breaths.

"fuck babe that was-" you cut him off as you take him in your mouth again and wrap your lips around him and you hollow your cheeks once again. his moans and groans become more frequent and you can tell that he's about to come.

his grip get's tighter while resting on your head and his groans get deeper. "gonna come, you swallow alright babe." you hum in confirmation, "shit, shit, shit," his eyebrows pinch together and his hot cum sprays in ropes at the back of your throat and you mourn not being able to properly fully taste him. denki lifts you up by your elbows and when you come face-to-face you kiss his cheek, he's not satisfied with that though and he passionately makes out with you not caring that he just came in your mouth and is holding onto your plush waist while grinning against your lips. "bedroom." he whispers in your ear making you shudder at the demanding tone he used, not often does he use it but whenever he does... well it makes your whole body tingle.

#♡ mine / writing #bakusquad x reader smut #katsuki bakugo x reader smut #hanta sero x reader smut #mina ashido x reader smut #eijiro kirishima x reader smut #denki kaminari x reader smut #chubby reader #chubby reader smut #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #bnha x chubby reader smut #bakusquad smut #♡ katsuki #♡ kiri #♡ denki #♡ hanta #♡ mina #♡ multi #bakusquad x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #hanta sero smut #mina ashido smut #eijiro kirishima smut #denki kaminari smut #mina ashido x f!reader

[sskk-manifesto]

(*・ω・*)b♪

#I'm a bit late but :) #Mmmhh lots of thoughts about this episode. Nothing really relevant though lol #I like it... Mostly. Well‚ I like Atsushi‚ and I like Atsushi screentime. #I always forget that there's actually a one week timeskip within the Guild arc #I think these chapters were generally better executed in the manga. #But even then it's just... #Why do the make the Guild / Fitzgerald so. dumb. Why do they make them act so wildly irrationally and at the protagonists' advantage #It really gives villain acting entirely mindlessly to make the plot advance and the heroes win. It's really sensless. #I mean especially when Atsushi yielded. Why didn't Fitzgerald take his offer. For real!! #For real. He had NOTHING to gain from proceeding with his plan. He already obtained for Atsushi and the ada to collaborate. #Now they are NEVER going to help him‚ and that's agreat loss for him. #And idk. i hear that little Tumblr post in my voice saying “why would you complain about characters acting irrationally! #Do people irl never act irrationally?” #And yeah I get Fitzgerald was frustrated for losing Mitchell and his fight with Hawthorne. Okay I understand. #But that's definitely too much. That's him acting downright stupid at the heroes' advantage and it's just pretty underwhelming to read? #That said. It's just general notes I'm not particularly annoyed because like. That's just b/s/d to you. Dumbing down the villains a second– #so the author can escape the trap they put themselves into. Very Marvel-esque move lol. #On that exact same note WHY WOULD LUCY HAVE THE DOLL. #The doll is the whole premise for your plan working why would you not protect it with everything 😭😭😭 #I'm not getting in the Lucy / Atsushi scene itself. I love Lucy but I swear every time that scene gets played a femminist dies #(it's me. I'm the femminist dying every time.) #Mmmhh a couple more things. I dislike the ost choice in the scene where Steinbeck is torturing Q it feels so out of place #And I really don't get what's the deal with the Hawthorne / Fitzgerald convo it's so confusing to me. Like it It looks like Hawtorne is– #blaming Fitzgerald for Mitchell's condition (both in health and for her family status) but... #Objectively neither of those things are Fitzgerald's fault? Idk maybe I just have very little media comprehension for this arc because– #a lot of things just seem to happen with no sense. But it's okay #Im complaining a lot lol but its mostly irrelevant things (or like with the dumbification of villains things I've learnt to live with lmao) #But the episode was generally nice. The animation this season is consistently very pretty. #random rambles

[teatreeoilll]

|| Selfish (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

In which Gojo is so protective over reader she's sure he hates her. Couldn't be further from the truth, but how would you know it without some good old-fashioned over dramatic angst?

TW: mentions of smoking and blood.

"He hates me. I swear, I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating..." You catch yourself muttering on the steps leading to the training field. The breeze tickles your skin, you cast your shoes aside to change them to trainers. "I didn't even have time to go back to my room and change. All day it's do this, go get that… I swear, Kyoto sounds like a great idea these days."

Nobara sits beside you, her look shifts to your shoes, "Where'd you get those? I never saw them in this color before."

"Kugisaki!" You plea, "I'm serious, please. Gojo hates me. How does it make sense that I'm stuck in damn Grade 2 for the past year and half?"

"Maybe," She takes her phone out to take a picture of your shoes, "You're just not as good as you think?"

"Oi, Kugisaki, don't talk to your elders like that!" Yuji's voice butts in, he sits with a thump on the stairs next to you. "But I can't imagine Gojo-Sensei hating anyone. Especially a teaching assistant. It makes no sense."

It really does make no sense, you drowned your face in your palms. How are all these kids supposed to take you seriously when they see you humiliated daily? Rejected from missions. Stuck on the same Jujutsu-Grade as the second year students for so long you've lost all hopes of ever advancing anywhere. Forever a teaching assistant, a mere substitute teacher for the times when the truly powerful had more important things to do.

Disheartened, you've reduced to sharing your feelings with first-years before training. "Alright, pair up. We haven't got all day!" You get up from the steps, trying to pick up the remains of your self-esteem.

Dusk crept over the surrounding trees. You've been watching the students for hours now, noticing how through each change in their pairings they've gotten better and faster. Familiar feelings loomed over you. That's it. That has to be it. Another day of watching these kids surpass their own limits so simply will surely be the end of the line.

You marched straight into Gojo's office, not even making an effort to change to something not drenched with sweat.

"We will not have that conversation again," the white haired man didn't even bother to look up from his phone. It's true, you've had this conversation every couple of months - and you've always received the same unsatisfying answers.

"You're right," you found yourself standing straight across from him, the palms of your hands hitting the desk in between you a little too hard.

"Careful with that, it's expensive." He says. You stare at him in silence. How is it, that with all the anger you hoped he'd notice you've directed at him, he wouldn't even avert his gaze from his phone for one minute?

"Saturo, I've -"

"First name basis, are we now?" Another smug smirk sent your way, your cheeks began to burn.

"I think first name basis may be appropriate, since I've decided to transfer to Kyoto." Oh god, when was that decision made? You've always liked Tokyo, the proximity from the city made all your futile efforts here worthwhile. But it was too late to back down. Gojo's hand reached to his blindfold, one blue eye peeks at you.

"Alright, good luck then." The blindfold snapped back on, his attention returned quickly to his phone.

"Good luck then," you mutter to yourself, walking back through the darkening corridors to your room, "Good luck then, huh?" It's been over five years now since you've first arrived in Jujutsu High, was good luck then all that he could say? What a fucking -"

-

"Emergency!" A voice rang through the building. Oh god, what now? You think, with your eyes set on your room to wallow the evening in your newly made terrible decision.

"Someone! Please!" Your legs carried you before your reasoning did. Through the curves of the hallways, straight to the first-year's rooms.

"It's Yuji," Kugisaki looked at you, panting, "He tried to pet Megumi's divine dog. I don't think the dog liked it."

Yuji held out his arm. After a thorough inspection, it was just a scary looking graze on his forearm. He muttered to Nobara it wasn't much to fuss about, the blood smearing on the sleeve of his uniform. "It's nothing bad, we'll tend to it any way to avoid an infection," you prompted him to get up from his seat, "I think Shoko's still in the infirmary."

You sat on the infermary bed, with Yuji already on his way back to his room you'd found the time to share your troubles. Shoko sighed, fumbling for a lighter through the things on the tray next to her. "Shoko, I'm going to Kyoto."

She lit her cigarette, the smell of smoke suffocating the small room. "That's nice, when will you be back?" She asked, huffing smoke in the direction of the open window.

"I don't think I'll be back for a while. Or at all, actually." She dragged a chair to the side of the bed, watching your fingers tap on the fabric.

"I wondered when you'll finally do that. You spoke to Satoru again, didn't you?" A sigh escaped her lips. She'd rarely admit to liking spending time with anyone, but the occasion seemed to call for it. "I'll miss you. That prick always thinks he's doing the right thing."

"I hardly think it's right to deny promotions from anyone for so long. He made sure I was so busy that I could hardly find the time to go on missions." Shoko weighed her words carefully, tapping carefully on the ashtray, removing the ash residue from her cigarette.

"It's because he'd never tell you how scared he is for something to happen to you. It's still selfish, don't get me wrong there - but I think he's far too afraid of something happening that it has become easier for him to sabotage you. I told him repeatedly to stop but he just -" Her words cut off by a knock on the door.

"Ieri! You there?" Gojo's impatient knocking had turned frantic. "The lights are on, Shoko. Open up!" Your eyes shot up at Shoko, speak of the devil. The handle turned lightly.

Gojo entered the room, turning straight to Shoko, not even looking at your direction. You'd managed to quickly find an excuse to leave, struggling to believe that's the same man who'd do anything out of concern for you. You closed the door, fingers lingering on the round handle, thinking how wrong it would be to eavesdrop while pressing your ear to the door.

"You know she's really leaving, right?" Shoko's distant voice lectured. "That's on you for acting selfish, Gojo." As you thought, he said nothing. Quickly diverting the conversation to something relating to a mission, another one you weren't supposed to be a part of. Perhaps it was wrong to eavesdrop. You stepped away from the door to turn to the direction of your room. Finally, some good wallowing time.

-

By the next morning, you've already made all the necessary calls. Wishing somehow it would be harder to convince the higher-ups of your sudden move, but it seemed that help was welcome anywhere, and work always needed to be done.

With your bags half packed, you were almost ready to say the sudden goodbyes to the students. The nostalgic look on every part of your room had already taken over, the final time of staring at that crack on the ceiling, the final time of covering that old coffee stain on the nightstand with a small glass whale statuette Gojo brought from one of his trips. Perhaps it's better to leave it there.

You gathered your nerves, opening the door, just to watch the tall white haired man pace from side to side in the hallway. "Did I forget something?" Your hand held the door open. He jumped up a bit from the sudden voice.

His pacing slowed, he took a step towards you, you gulped at the narrowing distance between your bodies. "I - spoke to Shoko. I think I got carried away, you don't have to leave on my account." The words felt empty as he said them, Shoko must have chewed him out well yesterday.

"You know Go-," You inhaled, "Satoru, not everything happens because of you." He dropped his sunglasses further down on the bridge of his nose, his blue eyes piercing through you. You hardly ever saw him without his blindfold, his stare sending shivers down your spine.

"Shoko was quite adamant it's all my fault, So I thought I better -"

You laughed, "Shoko was also quite adamant that all this time you just cared about me, so I guess even smart people can be wrong sometimes."

"But I do." His hand brushes through his hair, just for it to fall over his eyes again.

"Funny," you snarl, he studies your expression silently. You've taken advantage of that silence to continue, "So all these years you were just protecting me from dying? I thought sorcerers had accepted that fate when walking in here."

"Some things are worse than death," A solemn look takes hold of his face, you could have sworn the color of his eyes darkened.

"Do you take me for such a weakling?" Your tone of voice already deeming the conversation as pointless.

"I never said that. I think you care, perhaps too much. I would never want to see you sacrifice yourself over anything." The joyless tone of voice was far from his usual demeanor.

"Well, now you wouldn't have to see me at all." Your nerves had gotten the best of you. You hardly meant to say it, but as the words were spat out of our mouth, it seemed inappropriate to back off this course of action.

"You're not listening to me, (Y/N)" He could hardly cover how irritated he was, his hand gripped your forearm, pushing you towards him. His breath stroked your face, "I would never want something to happen to you, but you seem to be pushing towards it all the time. Aren't you happy with the students? Why do all of you have to go running around searching for burdens to carry when you don't have to?" His fist contracts tighter around your arm. His teeth clench to stop another flow of words he'd regret later on.

"Satoru, who's all of us?" In your voice a sense of shame, an empty pit has formed down at the bottom of your stomach, his eyes still fixed upon you. The same feeling of being scorned as a child, a tough love you'd thought would pass you by at this age.

"Aren't you happy?" he questions you again, you wiggle your arm as a sign of pain, even as he lets it go you still feel the marks that his fingers left there.

"I am, It's just that -" He couldn't let you go on for a second longer, his lips pressing firmly against yours, your breath sucked away by his tongue. A long minute passed, your hand had found a happy place inside his hair, his arms had restricted your movement and emitted safety all together.

Just as he'd stopped for a breath, you'd decided it'd be far too hard to continue the conversation if this went on.

"I'd like to not be hindered, Satoru," you wiped the wetness of your lips with your sleeve, "Nobody comes to Jujutsu-High to be protected, they come to protect. If I can't do it when you're there, I'll go." You watched his face change, his mind racing behind the sunglasses.

"You can do it here," A piece of sadness was left in an otherwise tranquil voice.

"Good." Your smile had reminded him to breathe, "Now," you mused, "Would you mind kissing me like you're angry again?" His laughter lifted the tension from your body,

"Oh - Dirty," The familiar smirk had settled down the final waves of emotion.

-

"Not a word, Shoko." You pleaded to her again.

"If you don't want the school talking about it, then don't have your arguments in the hall." She took a long drag from her smoke, "Would you mind kissing me like you're angry again?" She imitates you silently, chuckling under her breath.

"Shoko, I'm begging you!" 

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo X reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo X you

[gyuswhore]

How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread)

Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

genre: fluff, angst, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, one sided pining, reader has issues opening up (lmk if there's anything else)

13.4k words (im sorry)

plot: This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

masterlist

(A/N): repost bc Tumblr wouldn’t show it in the tags!!! Thank you for clicking on this clonking my pants as I hit post ! I started working on this at the beginning of exam season and I’m posting it the night before my last exam 🥲 what a full circle moment. Also pls excuse any inconsistencies or grammatical errors, my beta reader, unlike me, actually cares ab her grades and is in the beginning of exam season and therefore will not be able to read through this monstrosity for a while lmao. Enjoy hehe

Edit: I’ve just realised how many mistakes and grammatical errors I’ve made throughout the fic, serves me right for proofreading at 3 AM after a stats exam. I’ll try to fix them all asap!!! 

The camera goes off again with a distinct click. And again. And again. And again.

The camera had gone off innumerable times since Mingyu walked out in another themed ensemble, and you were there, watching, through all of it.

You watched as he kept switching positions, rotating his body and his head. Morphing his features into more variations of dazed and serious than you thought could ever exist.

Standing there, at the portable table behind the main setup, attempting to clean a lip brush that would be needed soon when the inevitable call for-

“Makeup over here! We’re taking 5”

You note your sluggish pace as you snap out of your daze and scrubbing harder with the removal cloth. Snapping your head down, hoping nobody noticed your incessant heart eyes, you realize you were in trouble now.

‘Y/n, you’ve been cleaning that brush since I left 10 minutes ago!’ The senior makeup artist snapped.

You finish up the brush in hand and quickly hand her what she needs, not before rummaging for the tiny pot of lip product you absent-mindedly packed away.

‘Sorry, really sorry’ you choke out before she leaves in her badly concealed irritated expression. You see her make a beeline for a waiting Mingyu, who adorably squats for the woman so she has better access.

This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

It's not that you were overage (your mother begs to differ), but considering you were on your second big girl job and still no sign of a potential lover, the prospect was starting to weigh on your head. The first rattling experience was when one of your closest friends announced her engagement, your thoughts still stuck in a 19 year old you considered she was too young. She was not, in fact, 19, or too young, but a perfectly acceptable age to consider marriage with someone she loved, you had soon realized. You were never one for the dating scene, but you were always one to don your Dr. Love labcoat whenever an emotionally bruised friend would come seeking help. You were good at advice, but awfully bad at applying it yourself.

Coming into this job, surrounded by a plethora of beautiful people, your heart would be of stone if it weren’t to waver.

The gong of unattainability had struck the second you laid eyes on Mingyu, laughing at something Hoshi had shown him on the phone. There he was, hair and makeup-less, looking like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had), and beautiful as ever. Beginning this new chapter with a bang, only problem was that it turned into an 8 month shoot out. Having encountered a number of gorgeous people, you’d learned to appreciate their genetic lottery pull and move on. But never had a single look left you as breathless and unbeared as that one, fateful look at Mingyu. One of the team members was busy assuring you not to worry too much about the pandemonium in the dressing room, that everyone would handle it and you were only asked to observe and help with smaller things as instructed; for now. You weren’t listening too hard though.

You were now adjusted to the chaos that comeback season and 13 men plus staff in a microscopic dressing room brought about. But you will never forget how in the midst of your first rain of hell, Mingyu had asked you to pass his phone.

‘Please?’ He had said, and you slammed your hand with a force of a woman infatuated on the table behind you and (literally) breathed out the first thing you had ever said to him.

‘Here’

He smiled and gave you a quick ‘thanks’.

There was no coming back after he flashed you those irresistible canines, and to this day, you wonder what nation you saved in a previous life to be able to have him know your name, hear it roll off his tongue in his pretty voice as he asks you to fix his smudged eyeliner.

You sigh defeatedly before your mentor slash irritated makeup artist shoves her load back in your hands and instructs you to come inside to pack up. It’s become routine for you now, as you begin to pack up the bigger palettes and tools, handing a ready-to-go-home Junhui the pack of makeup wipes he asked for, zipping up bags and closing tubs of outfits. It's an organized chaos but one everybody has grown to work around.

Mingyu is done before you, as he removes his jewelry and begins to shrug off his jacket. You scramble to find the clothes he came in and his coat, pointedly ignoring the familiar scent of wood. He thanks you and shucks off the remainder of his clothing, he might be used to stripping in front of professional staff, but you look away regardless for your own sanity.

Helping the last stylists hang the final jacket, you grab your bag and get ready to leave in your own car. Mingyu has left, not before throwing a “you did well, thank you!” over his shoulder at the remaining people in the room and leaving for the honking car outside.

***

Your mashing bananas in a bowl at 12 AM when you start thinking. Impulsive baking sessions had become a norm since you started working with Seventeen, needing to keep yourself occupied to stop spiraling. Mingyu was a recurring topic (surprise surprise), but one that quickly faded when you begin to think about what the future holds for you. You start mashing the banana harder. You consider the idea that you can’t complain, being in a position some of the most well seasoned pros had difficulty reaching. Being a single young woman and being allowed so close to some of the most unattainable men was seen as near impossible. You’d like to think it was your skill that got you here but can never seem to fully rule out a processing error.

It’s hard, being stuck in the same place. Your apprenticeship should have ended 2 months ago, but even if it had, you’d still be doing the same thing. The senior artist trusts no-one but a select few to work on the boys for photoshoots, events, music videos. People like you are left to sanitize sponges and clean the fallout.

You crack an egg on the counter and it splits open entirely, falling on the floor, yolk and all. Your inability to grow stays within the idea that you can’t really do your artistry like you want.

And how you never learn to crack your eggs on the bowl.

***

Showing up on the Going Seventeen set, you rush to the dressing room way earlier than you should. Being completely honest, you’re really only rushing because you want to maneuvere yourself to do Mingyu’s makeup before somebody else snags him. This was one of the very few engagements where you were occasionally allowed to take charge on makeup. Not that it was required for the show much at all; intensity and occasion wise. Your rare (possible) moment to (maybe) come into Mingyu’s organic notice was an opportunity never to be dropped by you.

You help setting up everything on the counters as the boys begin to (loudly) file in the rooms. You see Mingyu walk in and move to ask him to sit down once he’s done discarding his coat. He was first in line and you ‘happened’ to be the first one ready to begin working.

‘Is the eye makeup heavy? I just got a sty removed and I don’t know if I should be putting anything on at all.’ He asks as he sits down and you ready your damp sponge.

‘Not really, just smoothing things out. It should be fine.’ you say as you begin to press the compact on his cheek.

Your not really sure why, because you’ve never been able to muster anything above brief replies when in contact with him, but something in you pushes you to keep talking.

‘I’m surprised they even asked for us, they rarely ever do’ you continue, heart pounding so hard you’re afraid he might hear it.

He breathes out a laugh ‘Yeah. They even started advertising the show on youtube and subway stations and stuff, I didn’t know until I saw someone talk about it online’

You smile at his response ‘Well, all of you work so hard, it's about time they pull this to a high scale production’

‘It's never really work if your having fun, we try to be ourselves on here’ He replies, still smiling slightly.

You’re damn near close to collapsing on the floor at this point. This is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. You opt to smile in response as you start to concentrate on his eyebrows. The rest of his face is done far too soon as you zone out and do what you do best.

‘All done’ you announce as you pull away from his lips, trying not to have yoour gaze linger.

“Y/n! Can you start on Vernon if you're done?’, another artist calls from behind.

‘Yeah, he can come up!’ you reply as Mingyu (regretfully) walks towards hair.

Just because you sew your mouth shut with Mingyu doesn’t mean it applies for the rest of them, you’re quite friendly with all of them and Vernon does well to remind you as he sits down and quips a ‘hey bestieee’ in an elongated greeting.

You audibly laugh ‘That’s another word I’ll be hearing for the next month’

‘Regretfully so’ He feigns sympathy.

‘Be quiet and look up’ you say with a fond smile before you get started on him.

***

You sit on the floor in front of your television, trail mix on the coffee table as the movie plays as background noise for your thoughts - again.

There’s a smile on your face, but you dont notice as you think about the small talk you made with Mingyu today, wondering if it could become a regular occurrence if you learned to keep your heart and mind in check.  

You were never one to stand up and take effort to do what was right for you, which is why you were talked into choosing Business Administration by your friend in highschool, who you never speak to now because she decided to ditch you for another group who were more inclined to shuttle themselves to liver failure by partying every last weekend in your entire college career. You were talked into applying to corporate jobs by your counsellors as you started looking for make-up courses, needing to abandon your dream for the second time when you landed a decent entry level desk job. It took years before you decided to choose yourself for once and made the big leap after multiple courses you had took on the side. Life was starting to look bright after getting hired here, but you’re not sure if you overrode a high or if you went back to your old zipped mouth state after you settled in. Never sure if you expected too much or if things really were as stagnant as they felt.

***

Overmanifestation can be a thing. You're not really sure how it works but you’re reaping what you’ve sowed right about now.

You’re currently standing in an offside corridor in a hotel lobby, clad in a pretty white floral dress, and a nervous, fidgety Mingyu standing in front of you.

'I know I'm asking you to do something difficult and I know it seems pointless because I'm not doing anything wrong either that you have to lie about it'

This was supposed to be a staycation with your friends for you to relax and get your mind off things. Your ticket to relaxation has become a nightmare.

'And I understand I'm being super unreasonable but I'm really trying to keep it on the down-low as we get to know each other'

You were waiting with your friends on the couches positively stuffing your faces with the complimentary chocolate bowl placed on the coffee table as a couple other friends checked you guys into your rooms. You were laughing and talking with your group, carefree and ready to have a week of well deserved rest.

That was the plan anyway. Until you see someone across the lobby, also in line at check in. He had an unmistakable toothy smile,and was hand in hand with a concealed brunette.

Your smile abruptly falls in disbelief as you feel your world halt around you.

The same hands come up to brush the hair out of the woman's face to place a kiss on her temple, smiling wide.

The nauseating feeling of ice going down your spine is becoming more and more apparent. You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat but it's like trying to swallow a brick. You lick your lips and attempt to look away but your eyes keep feeding on the picture you painted yourself in your worst nightmares. Realizing you're on the brink of possible hyperventilation, your friend drops her head and asks you if you're okay. You look up at her, not knowing what to say as you realize that nodding furiously will convince her.

Mingyu has a girlfriend.

Of course he would. What were you thinking? This man is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, why on earth would he be single? You’re unhinged, you decide, for thinking you may have a chance, when the woman turns around and you see her in full. She’s gorgeous.

A part of you still wants to believe that you're officially past the point of sanity and that you've begun to see Mingyu in every tall man. The universe, however, is cruel. He pushes his head up and in your general direction, and locks eyes with you in unmistakable recognition.

He stops smiling.

So here you are listening to Mingyu asking you to keep this a secret from the company, to forget the woman waiting for him in the lobby.

You can only nod in slight motions as he goes on his rant to justify his oath to secrecy, managing a tight lipped smile as you miraculously find your voice, hoarse as it may be.

'Don't worry about it, I understand' - ouch - 'it's none of my business anyway. I'll keep my lips sealed, I promise'

'Thank you, thank you, thank you I appreciate it so much, you don't even know. I'll repay you soon I promise'

'No, please, it's not-'

'No, Y/n I will. You're being really good to me right now and I'm so grateful. I'm sorry for putting you through this while you're off from work and with friends. It's worth to me that your listening and understanding'

You're tired. You want nothing but for him to stop talking. So you smile again and shake your head.

'I'm sure your friends are waiting, I won't keep you. I'll see you soon though!'

And with that he leaves. Back to the lobby where you see him take the woman by hand once again. You watch again as they walk to the elevators, stepping in and disappearing when the doors close. You watch the floor number rise.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

You walk back to your laughing friends before you can see where they got off.

***

Retiring to your shared hotel room with Chaeyoung, you fall back first into the crisp sheets and mattress.

'Why're you so depressed dude, did Mingyu say something to you?' She asks, a slight line forming between her brows.

'I'm fine, I've been up since 5 today it's just fatigue hitting me right now' you reassure, like always. 'I might not go to dinner with you guys, might end up with my face in the soup at some point'

Chaeyoung hums. ‘Take the night off so you can gear up for the rest of the week. I'm letting you off for now but I expect full attendance for eveything else we do', finishing with a mocking stern look.

'Yes ma'am' you feign salute from the bed, mimicking her stern tone.

You've known Chaeyoung for quite a while now, meeting her in your last year of uni. Trusting her as you do, you were never fully able to fess up about your feelings for Mingyu. Fear of judgment wasn't the problem, but more so the strange feeling of shame that overcomes you when you think about talking about it with other people. It's quite beyond you, why you act this way. You loved your friends and you knew they would support you with everything, they'd proved it when you'd made one of the most difficult decisions of your life while leaving your job. But the idea of having the audacity to love someone who could never do the same seemed like a feat of embarrassment.

Who are you, y/n? Who are you to have foolish dreams of a girl in love? With someone clearly fit for all things greater than you?

Maybe this was a good thing, you thought, the weird feeling in your stomach returning. Maybe this was the universe telling you to give up and move on, a kind of rejection that keeps your dignity. This was nothing but a reality check, a sign from whatever wants best for you, to bring your attention back to what brought you to Mingyu in the first place.

***

You didn’t see Mingyu for the rest of the trip, which you were grateful for not knowing how you’d react if you had to see him so soon after, that.

Back massaged and head clearer than it had been for weeks, you feel more in control of your feelings and thoughts regarding your life. You hope the conversation with Mingyu was the last stressful thing you’d encounter for a while.

It’s almost comeback season, you realise as you see the new concept photos while scrolling on your couch at home. This meant insanely early mornings for weeks on end, but you had to push through for your own sake. You’d come out of multiple comebacks needing a brace for a month but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Never realising the true meaning of learning through experience, you were enlightened as you entered this new, very hands on field. The concept looked interesting, hoping the scraps of makeup you’d be allowed to do would be fun for you.

That ended up being true when you were, for the first time, asked to do Hoshi’s full makeup for their first comeback broadcast.

Your stumped silence was short lived as you hastily oblige and get the chair ready for him. You’d looked at the demo sheets and face charts too much for someone who wasn’t actually going to be asked to do much, but you see it pay off as you finish his eyes and get started on the rest of his face. It was easy for you to zone out as Soonyoung had passed out not even 5 minutes in, having someone hold his face as you worked.

You felt your chest swell with an indesipherable feeling as you watched him get up with your mastery on his face; pride, was it? You were getting emotional for no reason. Your attention, however, is moved sharply when you hear someone tell Mingyu it was his turn, finding him plopped on your chair staring straight into nothingness as he’d just been rudely awoken from his nap. He doesn’t realise it’s you for a solid minute as he tried to remember his own name.

‘Oh, hello’ he says, sort of confused. ‘Sorry, just give me minute’, he mumbles as he rubs his eyes.

He stretches back onto his seat signalling he’s ready for you to get started. You trying not to feel too much in your stomach as you begin.

You’re powdering his forehead when he says “I know I already said this but I really appreciate what you’re doing”

You know he’s talking about the conversation at the hotel, you were hoping you could avoid it.

“I told you not to worry about it, honest.” You reply, and somehow manage to choke out “It makes me happy that you’re happy”

You can see him trying to fight a smile, “Thank you for saying that”.

You wanted to stab someone. But you opt for gently brushing a base colour across his eyes.

“Do any of us know her, by any chance?” You ask cautiously.

“I dont think so. We met through mutual friends at a Christmas dinner, we didn’t start talking till she had to bring me a bunch of papers I’d left at my mom’s that day.” his face depicts someone reminiscing a fond memory.

It was cute, how it seemed like fate was trying to bring them together. It would've been cuter if you weren’t in a one sided pining with one of the two lovers.

“Well, I hope it works out for the both of you”

No you don’t.

“I hope so too”

You don’t hope that at all.

You felt guilty, feeling all of this. Hated that this was your first response to him wanting to be happy. Never would you have imagined stooping this low, hoping his happiness doesn’t work out for your sake. You’d like to owe it this being your first real infatuation, but you can’t help but wonder if this was really what you thought.

You decided to focus on the good news for today, that you’re finally allowed to do your actual job. You can only hope this wasn’t a temporary advancement, allowing time to tell.

Things remained the same the following day, much to your absolute elation. You were done doing 4 people’s makeup and was just winding down to take a break, quite satisfied with yourself. You observed as the rest of the boys got their hair done and run around, half in their outfits. You stifle a snort as you watch Jeonghan hide Minghao’s socks in his pockets as the boy tried to find them to put his shoes on, the former continuing to sip on his coffee seemingly unaware.

“Y/n, have you seen my socks? The green ones with the leaves on it?” Hao inevitable asks you.

You’re forced to feign confusion when Jeonghan pokes his head behind him signalling you to keep up the charade. He continues to look and you’re just about to have mercy on the poor boy before a to-go cup of coffee is shoved in front of your face.

You look up at the person and it’s Mingyu extending his arm at you expectantly.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything” you start, thinking you’re clearing up a confusion.

“I know you didn’t, got one for you anyway.”

There’s a record screech in your brain as you absorb his words.

“Think of it as me trying to repay the favour”

Oh. I see.

You’re a little embarrassed thinking he’d get one for you in that way, not when he had someone waiting on him. You accept the cup and mumble a thank you as he unexpectedly plants himself on the couch next to you.

“I saw you drinking lattes a lot of the times, so I just got you that. Hope that’s okay”.

Your silent for a moment before replying “Yes!” a little bit too loudly, eyes widening a little realisng your lack of volume control.

He knows your coffee order.

“Yes,” you say again in a normal tone and a slight laugh to cover up your inability to read the room, “They’re my favourite actually”

Kim Mingyu knows you like latte’s. This wasn’t good for your delusional brain.

Your conversation is cut short when the boys are called for roll call before they can prepare for the actual stage. You watch him get up and leave to file into the overstuffed elevators, not before he throws you the most adorable wave you’ve ever seen. You can’t hold back your smile as you wave back and look down at the drink he got you before taking a sip.

***

As it turns out, you did makeup for the rest of their comeback season, and Mingyu, without fail, got you an iced latte every single day before leaving to go on stage.

You tried to get him to stop, but he was rooted in his position and you didn’t have it in you to say no to his pleading eyes. It was a re-charge for you, when you’d seen him break into a happy smile, prominent canines that you’d grown to adore. He’d done more than enough to ‘repay’ you for swearing to secrecy, and you felt like you too, should  should repay him the balance.

So here you were, making banana bread in your kitchen again, careful to remember to crack your eggs on the rim of your mixing bowl instead of slamming them on the counter. You’re stirring the flour in when a classified devious thought occurs to you.

These past two weeks were pivotal for both you and Mingyu, daily coffee’s meant daily conversations, which meant getting to know one another more. You’d exchanged phone numbers in the midst of all of this, to which ensued the agenda of staying up till midnight talking to each other about the meaning of life.

Setting down the whisk, you pick up your phone and sent the text before you chickened out.

[You]: I have a surprise for you.

[You]: You wanna come over? It’s better enjoyed fresh lol

[Mingyu]: Ma’am? 👁👁

[Mingyu]: That sounds a whole lot like a booty call

[You]: *attachment*

[Mingyu]: IS THAT CAKE??

[Mingyu]: omw 😮‍💨

You send the location and set your phone down, a jittery feeling going through your entire body. There’s a spring in your step as you slide the loaf into the oven and set a timer. You turn around your kitchen island and register the pigsty that is your apartment. The girls were over the night before and you had done nothing to enlighten the aftermath, pillows strewn across the entire living room and snack wrappers in places you’re not sure how they landed.

By the time you’re done and spritzed the place with some of your nicer perfumes, your taking the loaf out of the oven and on a rack to cool.

Ever the punctual man, you hear the doorbell ring just as your taking your oven mitts off.

Hoping you’ve done enough to your apartment to save yourself from embarrassment, you collect yourself and open the door for him through your ringcam. He’s barely through when your rushing towards your doorway.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” he grunts as he tries to slip off his shoes.

“‘aight, where’s my cake?” he demands once he’s done giving you a quick hug.

You roll your eyes and usher him to the kitchen, “First of all, appreciate how excited you are to see me, and second, its banana bread not cake, sorry to burst your bubble”

He responds to your grumbling with an “Oh come on, you can't put freshly baked goods on the agenda and expect me to pay particular attention to anything else”.

He has his trademarked grin and cheesy stare out on display like its nobody’s business, you want to slap it off of him in the most loving way possible, but you settle with a tiny “shut up”.

“I brought warm coffee this time, thought it’d go better” He sets the to-go carrier on the kitchen counter, following you to where you were attempting to slice the still hot banana bread on a tray.

“Oh, that was a good idea” you say.

“Where’re your plates and forks?” he asks, pulling out the drawers and cabinets you signal to.

It all felt too domestic for your weak heart to handle. Not to say it didn’t warm you to the core how comfortable he felt in your space, you did, more than you’d care to admit. But he needed to tone it down before you required an organ transplant.

You were seated on the floor, butts parked on floor cushions, backs against the couch. The coffee table held all of your goods while you both argued on which movie to watch.

“I can’t believe you haven’t watched any of the Harry Potter movies! No, we’re watching philosopher’s stone, I don’t care!” You shout in disbelief, already typing it into the search bar on the TV.

“Philly-philo- bro I can’t even pronounce it why would I watch that?!” He yells back, snatching the remote from you.

You’re both a giggling, screaming mess on the floor as you keep trying to steal the remote from each other, not stopping until one of you bumps into the table and you almost spill hot coffee all over yourselves.

You decide to call a truce and pick another movie entirely.

Just as you’re pressing play, Mingyu takes a bite of the still (surprisingly) warm banana bread and you watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“This is so good” He says, his faced furrowed as he goes in for another bite. “Did you lace this with something, why is this so good?”

You’re biting back a snarky remark but you let it rip anyway; “It’s cuz these pretty hands made it”

You splay your hands out in front of your face, like your showing him your rings, fingers wiggling and a cheeky smile on your face.

He looks unimpressed as he scoffs. He swallows before saying: “At least you didn’t call the secret ingredient love or something”

“Excuse you, I’m pretty sure I heard you say that in some Gose episode” You remark.

He turns to you, all smug: “So your saying you watch Gose? Like, regularly?”

You immediately turn away from his taunting smirk, “Sometimes, if it shows up on my home page”

You take a sip of your latte before he asks you another sweat producing question.

“Oh, but you pay attention to me the most don’t you? Don’t you?”

He’s poking fun at you, you know that. But a paranoid part of you can’t help but think he’s onto you and your feelings.

So you say something maybe a little bit below the belt.

“You sure have a knack for seeking validation from the world when you have a partner already giving that to you”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you know it. In your defence, you're doing this for a greater cause, but it's still a relief when you see him comically gasp, hand to his diaphragm.

“Just because your alone in life, doesn’t mean you need to be salty about other people receiving actual love” He spits back.

Your sputtering trying to think of a response. Deserved.

He grabs a slice of the bread and shoves into your mouth to shut you up once and for all. You’re left chewing the mouthful and staring at him in shock.

He giggles and takes a sip of coffee, satisfied with himself. When he sets it down he opens his mouth to speak. Closes it again, like he re-evaluating, and finally decides to say something. He’s serious now.

“Ji Eun and I, decided it wasn’t gonna work out between us”.

Oh.

“Oh.”

He blows a raspberry and lets out a meek laugh.

“Yeah, oh. It’s whatever, it wasn’t meant to work out. Better sooner than later.”

You’re trying to find the words to reply or comfort him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask him, being careful to not lace your voice with pity, but more neutral and open. “You don’t have to, obviously, but it might be better to talk about what’s bothering you”

He pauses for a moment before starting.

“She wasn’t sitting very well with the idea that she had to share me. Like at all. She wouldn’t say it but she’d get mildly infuriated when I’d blow the fans a kiss or something, or interacted with the staff too much. I was getting home quite late certain days during comeback season and I’d find her outside the dorm at like 11 PM. It was embarrassing when all of the other members would see her there, obviously upset and basically yelling at me for, for - for literally just doing my job.I guess all the smaller things just started piling and she couldn’t take it. I tried so hard to make sure she felt wanted and secure in the relationship but nothing felt like it was ever enough. She was evasive or confrontational all at the wrong times and it came to a point- its a horrible thought to have in a relationship - but I was terrified she’d do something rash and I’d wake up to my face on articles for some reason - again”

You recollected the past couple years when Mingyu was thrown around in the media for a new accusation seemingly everyday. You weren’t involved with anything regarding the industry back then, but you’d heard enough news to be aware of what was happening.

Your heart swelled with sadness as you heard him talk, he sounded like he was trying- trying hard to be good enough. All for a person who seemed to have their priorities set somewhere else.

“She was amazing; kind and happy and confident. She treated my parents with respect, she was best friends with my sister. I know we only lasted like 3 months but at some point I really considered that she could be the one. But then the problems started and I realized she was only becoming an added factor to stress and anxiety for me more than anything else.

“I liked her because she was so family oriented, and I thought that was what would fit me because I’m like that too. But, I guess I’m just a different kind of oriented? I don’t know. I have a job that’s both interpersonal and unpredictable. There’s days where I don’t wanna get up and do work but I still love it nonetheless. I guess she just expected me to have a predictable, stable 9 to 5. Home in time for dinner, not requiring interaction with too many people; basically everything I can’t be.”

He’s silent for a moment.

You start talking after a couple beats.

“I really hope you aren’t taking this like it’s your fault. She made a choice to put up with your work, knowing how it would be for the both you. You tried your best but she made you feel like your best wasn’t good enough. I dunno about you, but that sounds like a really problematic conclusion. If she truly cared for you and what you love, she would never have been this unsupportive or not understanding”.

He’s listening to you, his expression is blank but you can tell he’s absorbing your words.

“I’d like to think I had realized that. But being completely honest, I’m not really sure when my thoughts go back to me thinking I’m the problem all the time.”

He manages a smile, a wide one, as he looks up to make eye contact with you; “But I know it’ll take me some time to really start believing that it’s not entirely my fault. We just weren’t compatible, and that’s fine. We left on good terms, and I’m happy about that.”

You smile with him as he finishes, but your a little confused when he starts sliding closer and down the cushions.

He sets his head on your shoulder.

You may have shortcircuited right then and there.

“Is this okay?” he asks you quietly, attention finally diverted to the half played movie.

You realise he asked you a question and you have to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine” You breathe out, somehow, by the graces of God himself.

No, you weren’t fine at all. You felt like the universe had flipped a faulty switch, mixed up the scripts, lost the plot, something. But as you get used to the weight of Mingyu’s head on your shoulder, you pray it won’t come back to haunt you in another chapter.

***

Your routine became inverted in the sense that, what you once had to plan out so intricately, is unfolding with no effort from you at all.

You find that Mingyu waits for you to be done with somebody else so you can do his makeup, instead of sitting on another free chair. He’d come to you specifically to touch up his makeup instead of going to an artist he saw closer to him. He never forgot to get you a coffee whenever it was that he saw you.

Mingyu hadn’t slept over that night, instead leaving in his car despite the 1 AM drizzle and your insistence for him to stay until the pour recedes.

Maybe it was better for you that he hadn’t stayed that night. Something about how you grew so close ‘organically’ made you feel like this wasn’t all in your head, that he’s choosing to be your friend.

You’re handing him his clothes as he begins to change, using the excuse to whisper to him;

“I was gonna try a new brownie recipe tonight, if you’re free you can come over?”

“I think I have somewhere to be after this but I’m free after, How’s 6?”

So there you are, back in your kitchen folding chocolate chunks into your brownie batter while waiting for Mingyu to get here.

Your phone dings from the island and you check to see a message from Mingyu sending you what looked like a grocery list; pasta, oregano, garlic…

[Mingyu]: Tell me what you don’t have from this

[Mingyu]: I’m at the store rn hurry up

You send him a list of what you don’t have, realising he intended to have dinner with you too.

[Mingyu]: k thanks

[Mingyu]: be there in like an hour

There’s a warm feeling that’s swelling in your chest, that makes you wanna punch a wall because your so happy. You choose self control, mostly because this apartment is on a lease but also you’d probably break your knuckles trying to punch anything harder than a foam mat.

By the time Mingyu’s here, the brownies are in the oven and you’re almost done with the icing. He unpacks the groceries (and the warm lattes) he bought while you finish up, confirming that he was trying a new pasta recipe tonight. Setting the brownies and coffee down on your usual coffee table, you decide wait a couple hours before starting on making dinner, instead choosing to hear him ramble about an idol he met at an award show.

“So, we start talking before we’re ready to go up- you weren’t there you were working on wonwoo’s makeup- and he starts complimenting me and so obviously I start complimenting him back”

He’s waving his arms around, and setting positions with coasters on the table trying to explain the setting.

“He asks me if I have a sister and I’m like… yes? Which I should’ve realised where this was going because he then” - he pauses to take a deep breath - “this absolute asshat decides it’d be funny to ask me for her number because apparently ‘if you’re this hot, I’m sure any sibling you have is too’ BRO, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT - how are laughing at this?!”

You calm yourself down for a second to clarify, “NO! It’s just hilarious how he thought that was okay to say”

You’re still still giggling in shock when Mingyu calms down, now also laughing incredulously.

“But actually though, please tell me you smacked him” you manage.

“I would have,” he grumbles “I got called to fix my hair cuz I ruined it or something”.

“Oh well, now you know who to avoid next time,” you say as you guide a bite of brownie into his mouth, “Forget about it now, eat sugar, it’ll help”

He chews a bit before swallowing, all while you’re watching him with an endeared smile on your face.

“Y’know, I really thought you didn’t like me when you first joined the team”

You pause mid sip of your coffee, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You never really talked me, did you? You were friendly with the rest of them but it just seemed like you never wanted to enter a room if you saw me there”

You’re looking at him in utter shock, this man was mistaking your avoidant (yet also pushy) teenage crush behaviour for dislike.

He’s looking at you expectantly, a little pout on his face.

“I never disliked you, why would you think that? I promise everything was a coincidence, it was nothing like that”

“Don’t get so defensive, kinda obvious you like me now if not before” He laughs at your panicked expression.

He meant platonic like.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that though, I’ve been told I have a pretty serious resting bitch face, it’s gotten me in trouble before” she smile sheepishly.

“It’s fine, you made up for it with that first banana bread” He says before taking another bite of brownie, “Could use more chocolate chunks”

You snort before pushing him with a sock clad foot, “Appreciate me even giving them to you” 

You fall back to the adjacent sofa.

It’s quiet for a moment. But you feel like something’s shifted in the air.

You watch as he brings his hand to the same foot, holding onto your ankles. He’s caressing the exposed skin with his fingers, moving them back and forth. His eyes are glued to yours, looking like he’s in a trance. You’re not sure how to register this new change in mood, suddenly feeling like you need to turn the aircon on during the bleak Seoul winter. Just as you're hoping you don’t start sweating, you feel his vice grip on your ankle pull your leg over with a sharp tug. You scream as you lose support of the sofa and fall back.

You sit up in shock to find him leaning with his elbows on the floor, cackling like madman.

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“You-” He stops to laugh again, “You should’ve seen your face, PLEASE, it was hilarious”.

You huff before getting up shoving his shoulder with your foot again, “You’ve been playing guest a little too long, maybe it’s time you get started on that pasta”

“Will I be blessed enough to be receiving her highness’s help?” He asks.

He looks like a dream, clad in his T-shirt because he claims he doesn’t get cold. Hands behind him on the floor to give him support as he stares up at you, smiling wide. He’s looking at you with eyes full of stars and glitter.

You muster up the courage to give him a nasty glare, to which he huffs at and gets up, “Such a meanie”.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as his back his turned, sachaying towards the kitchen. You want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

Your washing veggies in the sink when you turn around catch sight of his back as he stood at the kitchen island, sorting the rest of the ingredients. You get the same overwhelming feeling in your chest again, assuming you’re deluding yourself into thinking this is what life could be like with him. In less than 3 seconds, you’ve conjured a timeline of domestic routines, to wind down with him like this every evening.

You’re still lost in thought, still incessantly staring when he turns around and catches you in the act. He does the rude thing and snaps his fingers in front of your face to pull you out of your thoughts, “You okay?”

“Yeah” You say trying to gloss it over while busying yourself trying to find your cutting board.

“Are you sure? Do you wanna sit down at the island and watch me instead. You don’t have to help -”

“Pick a knife, and shut up dingus, it’s fine”

Once your both done eating and cleaning up, Mingyu hugs you goodbye, not before asking if you’d be free for lunch next week before he got busy the following month. You quickly agree, setting a date and time, bidding your (reluctant) farewells.

***

Once back in your apartment you realize how you can’t clean up to distract yourself because Mingyu took it upon himself to clear the space with you before he left. You sigh loudly and retire into your bedroom where you don’t have to think about how empty your living room is.

Changing into your pajamas and putting a headband on, you don’t even feel like turning your music on to do your night routine. You double cleanse, tone, serum, acid and moisturise your face with added purposefulness, taking note of the crevices of your nose and the neglected bottom of your chin. Taking extra time to make sure all of the foam is out of your skin before drying your face with a tissue.

You look at your fed skin in the mirror, and feel a weird surge of tears well in your eyes. Before they can fall you slam your bathroom cabinet to busy yourself to find your melatonin gummies, shoving them in your mouth before switching off the bathroom light and retiring to your bedroom.

Slipping the headband off and sliding into bed, you’re still chewing your gummies to a paste in your mouth. Trying not to notice how heavy you’re breathing you try to find your white noise machine, the one you found advertised for infants, and turn it on before grabbing your book to read for a few extra minutes.

Your staring at the pages like you found them to be blank. You’re phone dings next to you, signalling a notification.

Picking it up you find your mental health app sending you a daily reminder.

You’re allowed to feel your emotions.

***

Winter had run its course as you find yourself in April. You never really liked the cold, having been more sensitive to a gust of wind than the average joe, you were better suited to sitting with an aircon instead of being unable to move in the middle of Korea’s January cold rush. But alas, the cherries are blossoming and your fingers have defrosted.

That isn’t what’s on your mind right now though, as you’re standing in a Sephora, arms crossed and shoulders tense. You loved shopping for makeup, but you mostly chose to do it online unless you really had to otherwise. Parking yourself in the perfume section with the scents mixing together a cocktail of nosehair doom, you really wish you’d worn a face mask. Not to mention the migraine inducing coloured lights and mainstream pop playing in the background (you swear they’ve been playing Side to Side by Ariana Grande on loop since you got here).

These were all, however, peripheral observations for you, as you stare in absolute pneumonic shock at the number written on the price tag of the perfume you’re looking at.

Now, Mingyu is a man of class, high maintenance if you will. You’re well aware he likes to spoil himself, because he has a bank account to back it up.

Your bank account is definitely full and secure, but not enough for you to justify dropping what seems like half of its contents to something only one of the five senses can experience.

Mingyu mentioned in passing how he wanted this perfume a while ago, and knowing that he hadn’t ordered it for himself just yet, you decide to be the amazing friend that you are and surprise him for his birthday.

You may be regretting that right now, but you tentatively pick up the blue, crystalline bottle and spritz a bit on a paper strip before taking a whiff. It smelled good, that’s for sure, and it suited him too. So when the saleslady came to offer assistance, after you excused the last three, you decide you’re going to do this for him.

“Yes, could I have this in the box please?”

Walking back to your car you feel a bount of jitter run through you,

Oh, he’s gonna freak out when he sees this.

He did, in fact, freak when he saw it, and his reaction made you want to give him all of the good things in the world if you could see him like this all the time.

He’s smiling ear to ear and speaking in that high pitched voice that he gets when he’s excited. He’s thanking you over and over again, smoothing the box over in his hands repeatedly, looking at the ‘from: y/n :p’ with hearts in his eyes.

“I’m gonna save this for the rest of my life” he says, with determination and a goofy grin.

You snort at the declaration, “Sure, bud”

“I’m serious. What, you wanna bet?” he replies, taking a sip of his, latte, which you proudly credit yourself for swerving him over from Americano’s.

He insisted on going out to eat at this fancy French place a day before his actual birthday as he’d be busy on the day of, but it was risky for him to be seen eating out alone with a young woman at such a fancy place. You settled for a nicer traditional Korean restaurant, that allowed you to book a room away from possible prying eyes and one that you were both comfortable with. You decided to wait till you were back in the car with your post dinner coffee’s to give him his present.

“I’m giving you 3 months before that bottle’s dry to the dregs” You affirmed, “You smell like you empty half a bottle of something off your dresser everyday anyways”

You said it as an insult, but jokes on you because you loved the way he smelled.

“Fine, I’m gonna use this so carefully I’m not replacing it for at least a year”

“A year? What happened to the rest of your life?” you refute.

“I have you for that, don’t I”

What the fuckity fuck.

He’d turned to you, leaning on the headrest, that signature cheesy look; like he was in love or something. Voice dropping a couple octaves as he said it, laced with something defined and strong - enough for it to feel like the weight of an elephant had dropped on your chest.

You gather yourself after looking at him for a couple seconds, jaw unhinged and forgotten on the floor of his car. You chose to grab your cardigan that was neatly folded on the dash, and astral project it to his face across the seat. He’s laughing so hard there’s tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. He falls forward and you see strands of his hair fall to his face, he’d been growing them out.

“Shut up” you grumble in your seat, annoyed at how easy it was for him to send your heart through and beyond your chest.

He’s still giggling like a school girl, and you cave and give him a hint of a smile.

“There it iiiis” He announces, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks together.

For a moment, he stops to look at you like this, like he’s contemplating. For one, brain rattling, organ exploding, microsecond, you think he might even kiss you.

Instead, he headbutts you slightly rubbing his head swiftly before letting go.

“I might need to wash my hands, I think I got your makeup on me” He mumbles, looking at his hands like a child with mud soaked palms.

“Serves you right, you buffoon,” You remark as you pull out your trusty travel pack of makeup wipes.

Yanking one out of the tab, you pull his hand over and try to wipe the remnants of foundation off, starting from the heel up to each individual finger. It’s silent as you concentrate on getting it all off both hands, he was wearing black tonight and knowing him he’d rub his hand over his pants and get beige foundation all over. You knew because you’d seen him do it one too many times.

“All done” you quip, looking up and catching his stare. He’s smooth to slowly look away and retract his open hands from your lap about 5 seconds after it became noticeable.

You busy yourself by attempting to stash away the wipes to throw out later, closing the pack of wipes and shoving them back into your bag.

He’s watching you do all of this, his stare is burning holes into the side of your head. He’s desperate to say something, but you’re not sure if you want to hear.

“Let’s go back to my place. We’ll stick a candle into a sheet brownie and call it your birthday cake. Oh, we can pick up ice cream too!”, You say, costuming your voice to sound unaffected by his vibe.

And so you did stick a candle in the fresh batch of brownies you both made at 11PM, two hours before his actual birthday. Sitting across from each other on the counter, Mingyu has his eyes closed shut, hands clasped, wearing a ridiculously coloured ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ headband you found somewhere deep in your drawers.

“You’re gonna get wax on the brownies and they're gonna be inedible, hurry up” You groan, after everytime it seems like he’s done, he clenches his eyes shut again as he remembers another thing he has to wish for.

You’re not actually annoyed, he looks the cutest he’s ever looked, but you would appreciate non waxed brownies.

When he’s finally done, he blows out the singular candle and you clap lightly, “yay!”

You’re pulling out the candle and grabbing forks, dumping a couple scoops of ice cream on before you two start eating straight out of the pan.

Its a collection of groans as you both collapse on your couch, regretting eating all that so soon after dinner. He changed out of his dinner outfit to a T-shirt and pajama pants, he’d started keeping a set of clothes in his car when it started to become routine for him to spend regular  evenings after work at your place.

You’re in your own unicorn pajama’s, slumped over on the arm rest slightly. You feel Mingyu scooch over to put his head in your lap, claiming he was “closing his eyes for a minute”.

You knew how lightning fast he passes out, so not even 5 minutes later you start to hear his light snores. As much as you want to wake him up to move him to the bed, you know he can’t stay the night. His birthday meant he had to be with the boys, and needing to head out early tomorrow.

So you give him 10 more minutes, fingers tracing the shape of his features, in his soft hair massaging his head with your nails slightly. He had a little pout on his face as he slept. Things had been hectic for him lately, having a comeback later in the month and the plethora of music and variety shows to follow.

Mingyu had been writing lyrics on the kitchen island one day, sputtering random words as you quipped in rhymes of your own without context, stirring the pot of soup on the hob at the same time.  

One particular rhyme you spew out catches him off guard and he barks out a laugh at the ridiculous combination.

“I should put you on song credits for this”

“What do you think my producer name could be?”

He thinks for a second, “Banana bread sounds stupid, um, how’s brownie?”

“Cute, and serious enough” you agree, “I’ll be expecting to see my name on that album, sir”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your attention back to the sleeping man curled up in your lap. You wonder if you could fall asleep on the couch too, keep him here with you for the night. Be a little selfish. It’d be nice, making waffles for breakfast when morning comes. But he needed to be at the dorm in the morning, the boys knew where he was but managers that’d come pouring in at 7 AM sharp, did not. And it was best kept that way. The last thing Mingyu wanted, you knew, was people getting the wrong idea. The thought stung a little bit, but you knew not to mix your hopes with what reality was giving you.

So you gather the courage to slowly reign him back from dreamland.

***

Your sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan on the couches outside the dressing rooms, a little bit before they have to go to perform. You were done with your agenda and was waiting for them to start filing out before beginning to pack up.

“No, because why does he get to eat all the good stuff right out the oven and we don’t, that’s not fair” Seungkwan complained loudy to you, a mildly offended look on his face.

“Stop being such a complain bot, you’re never happy if I have nice things” Mingyu retorts, increasingly nasty looks being exchanged for an argument about freshly baked goods.

“Oh, I’m the hater?! Let me jog your memory, who was the one sulking and shoving me around when Y/n wouldn’t let you-”

Mingyu had jumped up and pulled Seungkwan into a headlock, his poor Americano half flying across the hall as he yells out in disarray.

“YAH!” cued with more noises of struggle and muffled threats.

You chose to embrace the violence by sitting in your seat and laughing as Vernon recorded their antics from the doorway inside eventually circing them for his supposed cinematic effect, catered for the inevitable weverse post that was to come.

Cut to them apologizing and cleaning up the mess of coffee and disregard.

You decide to be nice and attempt to make peace by reassuring Seungkwan, “Come over after you’re done promoting this week, I’ll make up for all the bread and cookies you missed out on”

“If you've finished with your escort duties Y/n, could you please come in and do your day job?”

The voice came from the doorway of the dressing room, your senior makeup artist standing there with her usual mildly inconvenienced expression. It took you a minute to fully understand what she meant by that sentence, your body completely still.

“Offended? What, like I’m wrong?”

You were no stranger to insulting behaviour in work places, but they’d always been revolving around your actual job description. People who didn’t like you knew they had to be smart on how they treated you regardles.

This was different. This felt like you were projected back in time to your solemn middle school days to mean girls taunting you about your spongebob socks, except multiply that by about a thousand.

You feel your stomach begin to churn as that nauseous feeling of shame began to settle itself into your veins.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there but when she slightly raises her voice; “Are you getting up or not?” your hands actively begin to tremble the slightest amount.

You’re making moves to get up by puting your coffee cup down, not knowing what to do except follow commands.

Your interrupted by a voice from behind; “She’s coming in, give us a minute”

Mingyu’s standing there, his expression stoic as Seungkwan and Vernon looked as stunned as you felt. You don’t register it in the moment, but the people in the hall, venue staff and those for other artists have also silenced, watching the scene unfold.

Her lips are in a tight line, her expression remaining irritated as she steps back inside the room.

You realise you need to do something to diffuse the escalated situation. Letting out a breathy laugh, you get up and tell them that you’ll be going inside, trying to keep your expression pleasant and unaffected, not waiting before turning around to spare them the burden of a response. People get yelled at everyday, and this is no different. You aren’t gonna be the one to make a scene out of a regular occurrence.

You know what's coming when you get inside, she’s waiting as she pulls you aside.

“Your behavior has been quite concerning recently, let me remind you of your place here and what you were hired to do. You've been dilly dallying with people who aren't even your friends, and its quite funny that you’d think they are. It's time to wake up from wasting your time making heart eyes at men who are way out of your league. I won't tolerate any more nonsense from you, and trust I won’t be this nice or forgiving the next time this happens”

You choose to nod your head.

“That’s another thing, use your own words. Don’t think other people are gonna be there all the time to speak for you” She spits out, her professional front slowly eroding the more she spoke.

“Yes, ma’am” You say, hoarse voice.

“Louder, next time”, she stalks out as majority of the people in the room also begin to leave for the filming downstairs.

You’re left standing awkwardly in front of the racks of clothes, trying to digest what just happened to you. Looking around the room, you try to figure out what your supposed to do.

Clothes on the couches, eyeshadow brushes on the floor. There’s a torn sponge resting underneath one of the chairs, a couple styrofoam boxes left on the tables from lunch.

There’s so much for you to do, you arent sure how you thought you had time to sit down and chat. But you’re not sure where to begin either. The room is a mess of smells and colours even without the buzzing noise of people getting ready. Tears begin to form as you try to navigate what you’re supposed to do, realising you can’t possibly find a starting point for any of this mess. Before you have time to think of anything else, a hand is holding onto your wrist, small and soft.

It’s Yoona, another one of the makeup artists.

“Y/n, I think it’s best if you go home, it’s been tiring.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her. Just trust me. Go home you’ll feel alot better”

She notices you hesitate for a second, and goes in to give you a hug.

It felt nice, to be hugged by a friend. For some reason, it didn’t feel like she was pitying you, her expression and aura reassuring you that you didn’t have to stand here alone.

“Whatever happened today shouldn't have happened, but you don’t need to think about that right now. Go home and do nice things for yourself, we’ll figure it out later. You have my number, give me a text once you get home. We can go out later if you want, when I get off work, to get your mind off things”

You’re not sure how you’re holding back the waterpark that has become of your tearducts as you hear those words from an unsuspecting friend, you nod with a smile. You feel a little more calm.

You can’t tell if you care enough to consider the consequences of your senior finding out how you’re doubling or nothing on your already posed humiliation. But the only thing you can think of right now is your bed and the ceiling you’d stare burn holes into.

So you, for the first time in a while, chose to choose yourself by picking up your satchel and leaving the chaos behind you as you walk to your car.

***

Just because you were brave where it mattered most doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to cry.

You had come home, shot Yoona a brief text, and promptly began to sob the absolute Nile into your sheets.

You had never cried like this before, loud wracked sobs coming from a place in your chest you had locked away during a time you couldn’t even remember. You’re breathing after every choked cry is a sputtered intake of life, only to spit it back out as you let out another sob of what sounds like agony. There’s nothing in your head, nothing but the words that were spoken to you as echoes of your own mind. Hypocritical of you to hate them when the same words circled in your head like a mantra every cursed, unfortunate day. She had done you a favour, by spitting out the truth you’d stewed, chewed and kept in your mouth ever since you got here. This was a you problem, to believe that you were capable of things beyond your bracket. You were told by the universe, screamed at by the world, that this was never meant for you, and you chose to ignore it. You chose to be stubborn. You brought this misery upon yourself.

Once you’ve disposed your body weight of tears and snot and burden, you’re left to stare at your innocent sheets now stained with mascara and your sorrows. You crawl into your covers and rest your muscles for a few seconds, head empty. You aren’t sure when you drift off, but you're glad that you do.

You don’t dream for once.

***

You wake up feeling like you drank a gallon of water and went to sleep. Your eyes, nose and throat feel like they’ve been over watered yet dry at the same time. You don’t realise what’s really arising pangs of irritancy in your brain once you figure out the consistent sound is a door bell. You’re doorbell, of the house that you live in.

You’re slow to push yourself up, realising your slept in your day clothes. It’s dark out but you're not sure what time it is, and quite frankly, you can’t say you care enough to check. You need to silence your doorbell first, which can only be done by silencing whatever hell sent individual was playing drums on the button outside.

It’s a record screech in your brain as you peer through your peephole and realise who the aforementioned hell sent individual was.

Mingyu was outside your door.

You don’t realise you look like you crawled out of a sewer till it’s too late and you’ve already opened the door through muscle memory. Mingyu was always welcome in your space.

He was in casual clothes, his hair pushed back from the guessed hands that ran through it, but he was still in stage his stage makeup.  

“Oh, were you sleeping?” He asks, eyes a little wide, expression cautious.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go then, you weren’t answering your phone for anyone and you told Yoona you were home but you weren’t opening the door, i was worried. Sorry I ringed it so much I probably should’ve assumed-”

He stops to look at you, and it’s like realizes something before he finally says; “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, I’ll see you around. I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait,” you croak out, licking your lips, conscious of your morning voice, “Can you stay? Please? If you can.”

He stops to look at you, expression changing from sheepish to defensive.

“No! I mean, yes. Yes. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you want”

You let him in as he slips off his shoes and you lead him to the living room. His presence in the familiar place seems like it last happened eras ago, when he was only here maybe a week prior.  

“You know where everything is, I’ll be back gimme like 5 minutes”

You’re scared to look at yourself in your bathroom mirror, so you don’t, and choose to scrub your face looking down at your sink. You change into a sweatshirt and trouser loungewear set, deciding to save your dignity a little bit further as you brush your hair and clip it back with a claw clip.

You take a breath before entering the living room again.

He’s sitting on the floor in your usual place, two steaming mugs on the coffee table, the tabs hanging out of the cup. He made you tea.

You sit down next to him, not really prepared for what you should be saying.

“How long has she been speaking to you like that?” He asks you quietly.

“She was always kinda itchy and uptight and stuff but, it was never like this” You say.

“Regardless, whatever that was, it was, wrong, uncalled for, all of those things” He says, sputtering a little bit.

He stops and sighs. It’s silect for a minute before he turns in his seat to face you, grabbing your folded legs and pulling you to face him too.

“Yoona heard everything she said to you after you went in, she heard it all. And she knows about some other stuff too. If you think, even for a second, that I’m not your friend, I might actually think there’s something wrong with you.

“If everything we’ve been through this past, almost a year, doesn’t amount to us at least being friends then I don’t know what it means to have one at all. You’re the first person in a while I’ve been able to be this open with. You know me better than most people, you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best. I’ve let you read me all you want, because I know I can be an open book if it’s you. I trust you more than I can trust myself sometimes, and I really wish you would trust me too.”

You’re watching him as he says all of this, you look up to make eye contact a couple times, and he’s looking at you everytime you lift your head.

“I do trust you. Probably more than anyone else. It’s myself I don’t trust. It’s hard for me to open up, I’m scared I’m gonna say something that’ll scare you away. And, I just thought maybe she was right today, that I need to realise that it can’t be that way between us, I have a job to do”

“What can’t be between us?”

“I like you, Mingyu. Like, I’m basically in love with you and have been since I fucking met you. I couldn’t believe that you could possibly be friends with someone like me, a confused, all over the place airhead who can’t tell right from left sometimes, forget you ever liking me. All that happened is that we became friends and I thought that this was as far as fate was gonna push us. All today told me was that … that was an overextension too. It was a wake up call that I can’t have everything in life. Things were going too well for us and I was letting myself think it could stay that way forever. I’m sorry for being this way, I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and out of place. This is the last thing you’d want to hear from a friend and I’m sorry I’m putting you in this situation right now and that you had to go through that today-”

You don’t finish what your saying because you're interrupted. Interrupted by arms pulling you forward and into Mingyu in front of you.

Your both sitting in your living room at 3 AM, on the floor in front of your sofa like you both have so many times. Except now, Mingyu is holding you in his arms, and kissing you so delicately it hurts.

It’s warm, like getting into bed after a long day, the scent of home and security engulfing you as you begin to forget about the qualms of life.

He’s moving his lips slowly, with care and a feeling so overflowing you can’t describe.

He lets go slowly and rests his forehead against yours, his arms are around you tight, legs wrapped around your entire body so you can't escape - physically or mentally.

“You dumbass” You hear him say.

“I love you,Y/n. More than anything. And I need you to know that you don’t have to hide. If you think your thoughts are a burden then I want to carry it for you. I want you to realise you’re not alone. I want you to stop pushing me away. Everytime I want to do something nice for you, you try to push the effort to something else, everytime I try to take care of you, you have this look that makes me think you feel guilty for taking up my time or something. Everytime I think you’re about to ask me to stay the night, you remind me I have priorities and I should go, even though I know you want me to stay with you. I want you to stop caring so much for how other people feel and realise you can demand the same from the universe too. You deserve love and to be treated with care. You need to let people do that for you, love.”

Your looking at him now, your turn to have stars in your eyes.

He loves you.

And you feel it. You feel it in his words, in his eyes, in the kisses he’s leaving on your face, in his arms that are wrapped around you, ready to shield you from the world.

You don’t say anything as you fall into his chest, head on shoulder, relaxed body in the cage he’s made for you. You close your eyes as the tears are burning down your face. Except, this time they’re because your relieved.

You both got up from the uncomfortable floor and moved to your bed, still tangled within each other as you clarified everything else.

You found out that majority of the people who heard it were very upset at the situation, but didn’t know how to approach or confront her.

Seungkwan almost bust a blood vessel after he had digested what had happened, disbelief and threats on his tongue as he refused to get touched up by her during filming, apparently making a point to walk to somebody else. Seungcheol was thinking of trying to bring up the problem to management, considering how Mingyu too was distracted all the way home.

“The rest of them have gotten quite protective of you too, I think. It’s not like I shut up about you”

Apparently the only reason you were asked to start taking charge on makeup was because some of the other senior artists pressured your mentor to stop restricting you. It made you feel a little more secure that it wasn’t just you that felt pushed down.

She didn’t like that you were doing so well, considering it meant she was wrong about you and your abilities. It hurt her ego a little bit that people stopped preferring her to do their makeup or their touchups, how they wouldn’t interact with her the same way.

“Alot coming from a middle aged, married woman, attention seeking like a child” Mingyu added, scoffing with a sour face as he nuzzled into the crown of your head.

“The boys really like you by the way, they’ve been rooting for us since forever” He says, and your heart swells unimaginably so; you felt loved, so so loved.

You scooch up to plant a kiss on the underside of his chin and then one on his lips.

“That makes me happy”

“I’m happy that you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, everyday” He smooches you on the face again. “Oh, and don’t worry about that stinky face I’ll take care of her”

You laugh at the determination in his voice, but you wanted to clarify something.

“Please, let me handle her myself. I’ll ask for help if she’s stubborn but I wanna try by myself first”

“That was hot”

You push his chest away as you bark out a laugh at the random comment, hiding you face, by turning the other way.

He battles that by pull you back into his chest and continuing his atics

“What I can’t call my girlfriend hot. You’re hot. Your the sexiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen” smooch “You’re beautiful” and again  “amazing” and again “gorgeous spectacular-”

You don’t fall asleep until the sun has well made its way up the sky, taking the executive decision to sleep in till way past lunch and maybe even take a nap afterwards.

You don’t care how it goes, because your happy just being with him.

***

You met with Yoona a couple days later at a cafe.

“Seungcheol asked us if we were facing the same kind of behaviour from her too. And everyone told him she was stuck up and rude and stuff. He said he wanted to bring it up to management but it didn’t really concern him directly so they wouldn’t listen. He told us to do so ourselves and we thought about it, but we’re gonna need to tell them about that too”

You nod your head as you listen to her speak, it was making sense.

“I dont mind going up to management at all and talking about it. I get that the rest of the stuff is a little too tame to be considered, which sucks because she shouldn’t be talking to us like that at all”

“Mhm, and I was thinking we could vouch for you on how she was restraining you for almost a year. Basically not letting you do your job. That’d be a another thing for them to think about”

“Yeah. Let’s do it asap, how’s this Monday?”

“Perfect, I’ll add everyone to a group chat and let them know”

And go up to management you did, who were surprisingly understanding. Apparently having received multiple reports and even videos of the most recent incident to act as proof. It was working out for all of you, and it proved to stay that way as they responded with a promise to shift her to a different department.

You had gone home that day feeling fulfilled and relieved. Mingyu, a man with spectacular timing had also proceeded to send you a text as a distraction,

[Mingyu]: Kwan wants to come over

[Mingyu]: something about croissants

[Mingyu]: Should he text you ab it?

[You]: yeah ofc

[You]: I’ll order the butter

[You]: you tell him to text me lol

Two nights ago felt like it happened last year with all the unimaginable advances deciding to happen within the past 48 hours. Right now you were more excited for the company you were about to recieve, more concerned with making sure you made the best batch of croissants Seungkwan ever did see.

***

You were in the car with Mingyu outside the company building, waiting until the clock struck 9 to go inside.

Today was the last day you’d think about this, being called up for a face to face meeting with the staff member, so she could formally apologise. The team had planned a dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of her ‘wicked reign’ as Yoona described it.

You were finding friends everywhere, ones that were always there, pulling through for each other as you yourself navigated a new direction of thinking for yourself. You were learning to walk past your anxiety ridden desire to draw lines with everyone, as you took the first step with the dinner tonight. It would be fun for you, and a bond you’d begin to build.

You learned that you weren’t delusional anymore, and that Mingyu did love you the same. It had only been a week or so, but one of the happiest weeks of your life, despite everything. He was teaching you more lessons than he thought he was.

Mingyu squeezes your hand from the driver’s side as it was past 9, “Let’s go?”

“Lets go”

***

Mingyu’s way too enthusiastic as soon as he wakes up, indulging you in a morning (afternoon) makeout session, claiming he doesn’t care for you morning breath.

“Well I do!” you exclaim, pushing him off with a giggle “About your morning breath, stinky”

He clutches his chest in dramatic offense, “How could you? I thought you loved me”

You respond my projecting a cushion to his face.

“Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast?” You ask, legs hanging over the bed.

Mingyu looks up, a wicked glint in his eye, and you immediately know he’s going to say something of no help.

“I want you for breakfast” He says, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back in bed.

“MINGYU!”

Needless to say, all was well.

#seventeen #carat #svt #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu fic #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu #svt x reader #em.writes

[tohokuu]

he's back - gojo satoru

tumblr is based off of a system of reblogs, not likes. reblog my work.

word count : 500

warnings : marking, whining, gojo is desperate, penetration, soft-dom ! gojo

a/n : second time posting bc dumblr deleted my fic for some reason.... anyway, here this is once again. let's hope it does better than last time.

the news of your husband being released from the cube sent you reeling. the cup in your hand dropped and shattered on the floor into a million pieces, but it was alright. your heart felt like it was connecting to itself, piece by piece as he laid kisses upon your body. 

his pink lips were searing your skin, engraving his marks onto your soft, delicate skin. you could care less. if it was up to you, you’d have him brand you with his aura. 

“my love,” he started, your eyes darted to his. the blindfold was long gone; you needed to look him in the eyes when he made love to you tonight. 

his hair was shorter, more closely cut and his build was thicker. he had gained muscle in the last few months, his chest broader and arms buffer. you couldn’t say it didn’t make your inner thighs wet. “you feel so good, baby. fuck.” he groaned. the white-haired man above you sounded whiney, his voice cracking as you squeezed around him harder. 

“i-i love you.” you whispered in his ear. he groaned, digging into you deeper. his thrusts getting more and more powerful as time went along. there was slight aggression in his movements. his hand on your waist was sure to leave bruises by the morning, and the pleasure was so surreal that you couldn’t even think of the pain at your scalp from how harshly he pulled your hair. 

your nose was tipped towards the headboard, writhing in ecstasy as gojo went ballistic on your body. his body leaving kisses on your neck, biting and sucking as he went along. 

“i love you more.” you gasped back. he chuckled against your neck. “no one can love you as much as me. understood?” you screamed in return as he delivered a particularly harsh thrust to your cunt. your legs shook and your nails scratched down his back. 

“fuck, satoru ! please !” you cried. “please what, honey? you have to tell me what you want.” he said. his silvery tongue slipped against yours as he held your chin up for him. you whined into the kiss, trying to be even closer to him, but it wasn’t possible anymore. he was deep inside you, tip kissing your cervix as you cried for him. 

you didn’t even know what you were begging him for. maybe it was a plea for him not to leave you again. the last few months were hard. he always went away on missions, but this pain was unbearable. he was trapped; he was gone. 

“i’m right here, angel.” he cooed, looking into your eyes as a slight smile overtook his lips. “i’m right here and i’m not leaving any time soon, i swear.” 

REBLOG MY WORK.

taglist form

©️ tohokuu. do not steal or plagiarize.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇…

hello! sorry for not posting anything in a while, I haven't had any motivation but this is an idea I've been thinking of for about a year now! I hope you all enjoy it.

summary - it's your first day working for the famous weatherman ari levinson, it turned out a lot better than you expected.

warning - smut, voyeurism, recording, daddy kink, choking, fingering, creampie, swearing, degrading, slut shaming, semi-public sex, powerplay.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You walk into the building, excitement building with each step. Your knee-length skirt rests tightly on your hips, cupping your arse wonderfully and your tucked-in, light purple blouse hugs your figure, barely containing your breasts from spilling out. Your heels click against the tile, and your heart squeezes inside your chest as you near the room. Your hand shook slightly as you reached for the handle, pushing the door open, your eyes widening as you took in the hustle. Everyone was moving fast, ensuring everything was getting done in time. 

Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes land on the infamous weatherman. The man every woman has wet dreams about, the man they’d happily get up early for just to see him on their screen. You watched as women fluttered around him, refreshing his make-up, to make him look perfect for the TV but that was impossible, he was already perfect enough. You felt your knickers dampen, slick gathering between your thighs, cunt throbbing as your eyes connected with his. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, you swear you were on the verge of a panic attack when he smirked, his eyes moving up and down your body slowly before he licked his lips. Ari Levinson was going to be the death of you and all womankind.

“Miss?” You blink, breaking eye contact with a god and shyly look at another man trying to get your attention. “Mr Levinson is ready for you. You will be training alongside him, so he said to meet him in the weather section.” You nod, happily but shyly follow along, keeping your head down so you don’t accidentally catch his eye again. The man stops in the area and shows you where you will be standing. A table is wheeled in and you grow confused, never seeing a table in this part of the news before. 

“What is the table for, if it’s not too much to ask?” You stare at it curiously, tilting your head to the side. 

The man shrugs before his hand flies to the earphone connected to his ear and he speaks to the person on the other side. He looks at you. “Mr Levinson will be here in a few seconds.” That’s all he says as he turns and leaves you to stand there by yourself. You look around, standing with your hands interlocked in front of you. 

You are so busy looking down at your shoes, getting lost in your own world that you don’t notice the man himself has made his way over. His navy blue suit hugged his figure perfectly, his shoes shined, and his medium-length hair was combed and pushed out of his face. “Good morning, Miss L/N” You jump, looking up with wide eyes as you notice he’s neared, standing so close that you can practically smell his cologne. “It’s a pleasure to have you here.” He reaches forward, expecting a handshake.

You stumble, quickly slipping your hand into his, feeling a shiver rush through your body as you make contact, his hand so warm and large. “G–good morning, Mr Levinson! It’s a pleasure to be working with you!” You stutter, spurting out words as you peer up at him through your lashes. Your chest heaving as his blue eyes stare down at you. “I–uh…” You look between him and the table. “May I ask what the table is for? I’ve never seen you use it in one of your reports.” You gulp, hoping that you haven’t disappointed him immediately. 

Ari smirks, his hand comes around and rests on your lower back, leading you over to the table in speaking. “I have something special planned for this one. You, my little costar. Will be my special guest.” He smiles down at you, something darker behind his eyes. You didn’t know, but the moment Ari had seen you in the interview, he knew he needed to have you any way he could and he planned something so naughty, so sexual that the whole world would talk about it. “You don’t mind, do you, sweetness?”

“N–no! I don’t mind at all, Mr Levinson! I am just honoured to be working with you! You see, I am a big fan!” You blink up at him, wondering how he could be even more perfect up close. “I will do anything to make this perfect!” Ari’s grin widens, and you shift as he continues to stare. “I–is there something on my face, Mister?” 

Ari shakes his head and moves away from you, he runs his hand through his hair and gets in position. “No, sweetness. Now, be a good girl and stand behind the table for me.” He gestures, watching with lustful eyes as you obey immediately. He holds back a groan as his gaze falls to your arse, loving how the skirt hugs it so perfectly. Ari blinks and his face becomes straight, his eyes move from your plump arse to the cameraman, and he gives a slight nod, showing that he is ready. Once he gets the signal, he begins. “Good morning everyone! I am your weatherman Ari Levinson and I have a special guest with me today! Please welcome, Miss Y/n L/n!” 

You smile shyly, giving a small wave and you feel your body heat up as Ari takes a step closer to you, brushing up against you. “H–hi!” You clear your throat and straighten your back, wanting to be seen as a professional instead of some shy little girl. 

Ari’s hand brushes against your hip, and you swallow down the whimper that threatens to escape. A giddy geek by the name of Jake Jensen stands behind the camera, anticipating what's to come. He was amazed at how Ari could work his looks and money, being able to persuade everyone in the building to leave to let him do the weather announcement without them. He trusts his good friend to stream this live video to the house filled with the other group of friends. All the men gather around the couch, waiting for his friend to bless them with a good show. 

Ari presses against you, his bulge resting between your plump cheeks and you let out a small whine. “Why don’t you tell our audience what the weather will be like today, okay, sweetness?” You gulp, blinking a few times as you try and pull yourself back from the fuzziness. His hand comes up and he strokes your cheek with his knuckles, “You there, sweetness?” 

You nod, sighing softly. “Y–yes, I’m here. Uh, the weather today is said to be cloudy with a–a…” You stop, eyes widening when you feel Ari begin to grind against you, his hand sliding to the front of you, slowly pulling your skirt up. 

He leans forward, whispering in your ear. “Keep going, You wouldn’t want to lose your job on your first day, now would you?” 

You immediately shake your head, continuing as he connects with your bare cunt, groaning when he realises you’ve been walking around wearing nothing underneath. “With a chance of rain…” You clear your throat, biting hard on your bottom lip when his finger brushes against your soft, glistening cunt. A squeal escapes you when you are suddenly bent forward, your chest flush against the cold table, nipples hardening and slick gathers between your thighs. “W–what, what are you doing, Mr Levinson?” You whimper, feeling him grind into you.

“Shh, sweetness. This is what’s so special about this one. You should’ve known that I wouldn’t let someone like you slip from my grasp. I had to have you, and so do my friends.” He leans over you, your body practically disappearing with his large build, and Ari looks directly into the camera. “Say hi to them sweetness.” His other hand slides up and tightens around your throat, squeezing when you don’t obey. “I said, say hi to them. Don’t be a disobedient slut.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a whine passing your lips as he continues to rub your swollen clit. “H–hi, Mr Levinson’s friends!” Your mind felt cloudy, never having felt this much pleasure before. “W–what are you going to do, Mr Levinson?” Your arse pushes back against him as his fingers slip into your hole, pumping fast and hard, curling them into that sweet spot you’ve never been able to reach. 

“Call me Daddy, sweetness, and don’t even worry your pretty little head about what I’m going to do.” His cock throbs in his slacks, hardening and straining against the material. Ari presses harder against you, fucking you with his fingers and groaning as you tighten around them. You whine as Ari pulls his fingers out of you, and your orgasm which had been close to the edge, fades away. “You don’t get to cum, sweetness, unless it’s around my cock. You wanna cum on Daddy’s cock?” 

You nod rapidly, grinding yourself against him, wanting him buried deep inside of you. “Yes! Please, Daddy, I wanna cum on your cock!” You gasp as his hand moves from your throat, his thumb rests on your plump bottom lip and a groan slips from Ari as you immediately wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking and licking, eyes dazed as his taste fills your mouth. 

Ari lifts the fingers that were inside you to his face and sticks them into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. “Taste so good, sweetness. I can’t wait to be buried between these thighs.” He reaches down, slowly pulling out his thickened cock, smirking as you whine and wiggle in anticipation. “But, I won’t today. I’ll save that for another day. For now, sweetness. You need to be patient, I’ll fuck you in a second.” He growls, smacking your arse, and his cock twitches as he watches it jiggle. 

“P–please, Daddy! I’ll be good, please fuck me!” You whimper, pushing your arse against his throbbing cock, and your skirt now rests above your hips. Ari slowly strokes his cock, tapping his leaking tip against your glistening folds, rubbing it through until his head gets caught on your entrance. 

“It’s okay, sweetness. Daddy will fuck you now.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head and a strained moan escapes you when he begins to push in, stretching your walls. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, sweetness. I’m never letting you go after this, oh– You’re squeezing my cock so well.” Ari grunts, thrusting fully into your cunt, gripping your hips as he begins to fuck you hard and fast, becoming feral the more his cock drives into you. “Feel good, sweetness?” 

“Uh huh, uh huh! So good, so full!” You scream, gripping the table as your body moves up and down with each thrust. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Your moans echo throughout the room, your walls tighten around his thick member, and for the first time in your life, your toes curl. The men watching groan, pants tightened as their cocks strain against them. Your knuckles grow white as you grip harder, feeling your walls pulsate around Ari.

“Jesus, fuck! Sweetness, if you continue to squeeze me like that, I’ll finish inside you.” Ari groans as you squeeze him tighter at his words, the thought of him pumping you full causes your whole body to go crazy. “You’re such a slut, sweetness. Your first day on the job and you are already sleeping with your boss while his friends watch. You know how much of a whore that makes you? I bet you want them to be here, passing you around and using you.” You let out a pornographic moan at the thought, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock begins to pound into your sweet spot. 

“Daddy, I’m cumming! Please let me cum! Can I cum, please?!” You cry out, thrusting your hips back against him, wanting to feel him deeper. Your head feels fuzzy, eyes cloudy and the core inside of you tightens. “Please, please!” 

Ari grips your hips tightly, pounding faster and harder, feeling his orgasm approaching rapidly. “Cum for me, sweetness. Milk my cock.” He growls in your ear as he leans forward, fucking you deeper. “C’mon be a good girl and show my friends how well you obey orders.” Your mouth falls open into a silent scream, your walls pulsate like crazy and your juices squirt out of you, coating Ari’s cock with white cream. You sigh, planting your face onto the table as he continues to fuck you. “Fuck, that was so fucking hot, sweetness!” 

Ari holds you tighter, hard enough to leave bruises on your soft flesh. “I’m going to pump you full, sweetness, and then carry you home to my friends so they can all have a turn with your sweet body.” He whispers into your ear, grunting as he feels his balls tighten, cock twitching and throbbing before thick spurts of cum shoot out of his thick mushroom tip and into you, filling you to the brim, coating your walls. “Jesus, you feel so good, sweetness. Let’s see how pretty your cunt looks filled with my cum.” Ari groans and you whine as he slowly pulls his softened cock out of your used hole, and squats down. “Oh, sweetness. She’s so beautiful!” 

You whimper as his finger connects with your puffy clit, rubbing it gently before he moves down and spreads your lips apart. A groan slips from his lips as he watches his cum slowly begin to leak out of your hole. You gasp as Ari slowly pushes a finger into your hole, pushing his cum back into you, deeper. “You know what the best part of this will be, sweetness?”

You hum, too fucked out to understand. “The fact that you aren’t wearing any knickers, means you’ll be walking out of here with my cum dripping down your thigh.” You let out a little whine, wiggling against him as he continues to finger his cum back into you. Ari stands, straightening his back as he tucks himself back into his slacks and ensures his suit looks perfect. “I hope you had a good show, boys. Now, sweetness. Let’s get you dressed so that I can introduce you to my friends.” 

“I’m so tired…” You mumble, nuzzling your face into his neck when he stands you up and spins you around, giving everyone a view of your arse before Jake turns the camera off. Ari grins, pulling your skirt down gently to cover your gorgeous legs. One hand rests on your hip while the other comes up and fixes your shirt. You slowly pull away from his neck and blink tiredly up at him, feeling all tingly and sore between your legs, having never taken someone so large before. “So pretty.” 

Ari smiles, tucking a strand of hair that’s come loose behind your ear. “Thank you, sweetness. You’re the most beautiful woman that’s walked this Earth.” His eyes fall to your plump lips, wondering what it would feel like to feel them against his. This man had taken you, yet not once had he stolen a kiss. Your eyes follow suit, flickering down to his lips, willing him to kiss you. A gasp leaves your lips when Ari leans down, holding your chin between his thumb and finger and kisses you, swallowing the soft sounds that escape you. Your hands clutch onto his suit jacket, holding him close to you as your lips move in unison, his taste is so delicious and magical.

You whimper when he pulls away, his and your eyes flutter open and you stare at each other for a short while before you stumble, your mind cloudy from the kiss and legs feel like jelly and Ari smirks. “Why don’t I carry you out, sweetness? It looks like I did a good job, just wait until you get to my house.” You whine at the thought of being filled by multiple different cocks. Ari leans slightly and grabs your thighs, he lifts you and wraps your legs around his hips. “Are you ready, sweetness?”

You nod, nuzzling into him more. “I’m ready.” 

With those words, you are off. He carries you out to your new future, one where you will no longer have to work and be worshipped by many men. Fate had a funny way of getting you to meet your soulmates, and a certain cameraman by the name of Jake Jensen was known as a geek, being smart enough to know everything about tech. Except today, he had been so invested in you and your beauty that he didn’t notice he accidentally switched the live recording to broadcast to the world instead of just his buddies.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#imyourbratzdollwork #ari levinson #ari levinson angst #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fic #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x you #ari levinson fandom #ari levinson imagines #ari levinson one shot #ari levinson oneshot #weatherman ari levinson #weatherman ari levinson x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans drabble #chris evans fan fic #chris evans angst #chris evans blurb #chris evans character #chris evans fan fiction

[eddiessluttywaist]

as if (part 3)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: reader isn’t keen to playing the usual games between her and eddie after how she felt sunday night, and eddie can’t stand losing her attention. PICK WHAT ENDING YOU WANT AFTER.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 8,704 words (9,272 total words with the fluffy ending, 9,516 total words with the angsty ending)

content/warnings: swearing, SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, breeding kink, mocking, teasing, biting, dacryphilia, groping, pet names (doll face, princess), degradation, some embarrassment, yearning, menophilia, angst :(((, feelings :(((, fluff(what? who said that?). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: thank you for all the love :( i’m truly so surprised and grateful and just super flattered so thank you!! i hope i didn’t fuck this up by giving it crap endings sobs. i saw some were interested in a bit of a better look into eddie’s thoughts/feelings so i hope those lil parts are good! i’m considering the occasional blurb in the future about them tho so 👀 OH ALSO!! the past week or so tumblr had a bug on their app that cut off the ends of my posts >:( so I’d appreciate it if you could look back to double check you caught the full ending so you get the proper experience! okay i’m shutting up now!

part one - part two

*

You weren’t as responsive to his teasing that Monday…or, well… just about the rest of the school week so far, for that matter. You blamed your mood drop on his indifference, and the cramping that you assumed was only from this weekend. You had been sure it was just your cervix making its opinions on Eddie known, but then—after your second sugar pill of the week—you got your period Wednesday night. This culprit seemingly just as likely for that aching in your lower abdomen and back. It was welcome evidence that your birth control was working, but the appreciation for its presence didn’t last long with all the cramping and the bleeding. You hated getting your period, no matter how many older women reminded you of your “connection to Mother Nature” and “the beauty of the womb.” It’s messy and painful and almost always broke out your face.

So no you aren’t playing Eddie’s usual games—instead going silent on him or answering in an empty murmur. Part of you worries it’s going to all build up to one particularly heinous act, but he surprisingly didn’t get worse. He only bothered you with the same old stuff more frequently. By Thursday he’s pestering you constantly with his teasing, and his grabbing, and honestly? Just about every trick in his sick little book which were usually tastefully sprinkled throughout the week.

“So you’re not talking to me? Playing hard to get or somethin’?” He whispers from behind you in the lunch line. You grab a saran-wrapped cookie and put it on your tray.

“What? You on your rag or something?” Eddie scoffs in response to your ever freezing cold shoulder. He’s out in the tundra these past couple of days. You make a face and continue moving through the line.

“Come on… don’t fuck me and forget me, babe. You’ll break this ol’ cynic’s heart and I’ll never recover.” He teases with a wide smile, hand placed over his heart before it drops to settle on the small of your back and gradually travel down to cup your ass. He’s pleasantly surprised that you’re not gently nudging him away like you had the last time he attempted his usual lunchtime groping, but something feels different. He glances down as he flips up your skirt only to reveal small shorts in the same pattern of your dark, plaid skirt. Your worst nightmare is bleeding through a light-colored pair of pants or skirt, so you always wear darker clothes on your period, and you trade skirts for skorts in favor of the added coverage.

“What the fuck is this shit?” He scowls, tugging at one leg of the shorts.

“It’s called a skort. We’ve had this conversation before.” You sigh, thanking the lunch lady as she hands you your tray and eyes the metalhead trailing behind you.

She thinks he resembles an abandoned puppy who grew mean and practiced his bite and his bark just to follow after you with his tail between his legs. If she had any genuine interest in connecting with the student body she fed 5 days out of the week, she might’ve made a playful joke about you having him whipped. But she didn’t care that much.

“I don’t think we have.” He grins, wondering if you even noticed you let yourself talk to him.

“You do it every time I’m on-“ You catch yourself almost admitting you were on your period, which would certainly only pull new harassment from him, so you pretend to correct a simple mistake. “In. Every time I’m in a skort.”

He hums disapprovingly.

“Yeah, well… I…” He trails off as you simply walk away from him to your usual spot in the cafeteria. You don’t bother to stay at his table you two reached just for him to finish making some crude joke before ultimately shooing you away anyway. “Okay… or be a bitch.”

He grumbles that last bit, landing into his usual spot at the head of the table. A few of the other Hellfire members are still staring even when he clearly takes notice.

“Can I help you?” He snaps, everyone who had been staring immediately looking down at their food. He huffs, adjusting his position in the chair to get more comfortable and lets his gaze move over to your table. You’re sat so pretty it’s like your image could actually advertise such a crappy plastic chair. The way your ankles are crossed underneath you, book cracked open on the table with all of your attention on it as you sat with your body leaned into the table. Your food was hardly touched due to a pang of nausea that he was completely unaware of.

“You know if you like her maybe you shouldn’t pick on her so much.”

Eddie grimaces at the comment that’s—in his opinion—beyond a disregard for his rank at this table, icy glare on the curly haired freshman. There are panicked faces and soft muttering around the table showing he isn’t the only one taken aback by this.

“I…” the boy falters, putting the spoonful of pudding he’s about to eat back down. “I just mean if… if you like her. I dunno… you’re kinda mean to her, Eddie.”

He eats his scoop of pudding now, his bold words inspiring the wiry one that always sits next to him. Eddie’s burning glance flits over to him now that he’s speaking, his expression remaining unimpressed with etches of frustration in the shadows of his facial features.

“Yeah, which is actually totally weird cause you’re not like that at all.” The brunet speaks in a rapid ramble like usual. “Like, you took me and Dustin and Lucas under your wing cause we were new and weird and alone and stuff like that—no, I know Lucas has been ditching Hellfire for the jocks, but anyway— you’re always talking back to those asshole jocks—which is totally cool—so I don’t get why you’re not like that with her.”

“I’m sorry, I must be confused.” The man spoke with sarcastic interest, a sinister smile breaking out onto his face. “Are you two talking to me? About something that is, quite frankly, none of your business?”

The two boys look at each other, the nerves shared between them tangible. Eddie raises a brow and tilts his head when they face him again. Still silence. Mike swallows anxiously.

“Well?” He sneers, flicking some of his trail mix at them.

“Sorry, Eddie…” They say in unison as he chews slowly, staring them down. He rolls his eyes as his body slowly relaxes again in his spot and he glances at you again. You were at least breaking off pieces of your cookie now, still reading your book.

“She’s not new or weird or alone anyways. She’s always with the smart kids.” He states, before holding up a hand as his gaze returns to the pair. “Not that I’m inviting you two shitheads to stick your noses in my business.”

The freshmen, along with a few others at the table shift to look over at you. You’re still engrossed in whatever you’re reading and you looked miserable, even if you were enjoying a good book. You look tired.

“Dude, literally no one is interacting with her. There’re the Jacobson twins talking at one end—probably still fighting over what’s the right answer to the equation from algebra class (it’s zero, by the way). Then there’s Richie and Greg from advanced calculus. Some people I don’t know…” Dustin mutters that last part before continuing, “And yes technically speaking there are a few girls sitting with her, but they’re not even talking. They probably don’t even know her.“

Eddie stares him down, the conversation still on you burning away at something inside him. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to talk about you or how lonely you look. He doesn’t want to talk about inviting you over. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about how mean he is to you, cause he has no interest in trying to break down the intricacies of the crossover between bullying you and fucking you. Especially to freshmen.

“Just saying.” Dustin finally sighs in defeat, clearly getting no response from the DM sat at the head of the table. “But seriously, tugging on a girl’s pigtails cause you like her is completely grade school.”

*

Eddie had figured that having sex would change things between you two, but he imagined it changing for the better. Things like fucking you in the janitor’s closet or in the back of his van in the parking lot. Feeling you up between classes. Being so fucking mean to you all day until you were all wet and needy for him by the time that final bell rang.

He certainly didn’t imagine this.

At the start of the school week, Eddie didn’t entirely notice your lack of participation. Just that something felt… off-kilter in your interactions. It had been on Tuesday night that he realized nothing felt right because you weren’t glaring at him or shoving him away or pouting up at him. You didn’t even turn your head when an object was flicked at you, you just kept your eyes on the chalkboard.

Now he isn’t particularly well known for his critical thinking with… well… anything other than music, DND, and—subsequently—the math that came along with both hobbies. And, of course, selling drugs. So it’s somewhat understandable that poor Eds didn’t even realize what caused the imbalance for a whole day or two. Once he realized it though, it only frustrated him further. It irritated him that you weren’t playing the game, and it irritated him that it bothered him so much in the first place.

Why aren’t you snapping back at him? Why are you ignoring him, and if you even do look over: why was it always with a sad glance? Why, when he toyed with your skirt on Monday did you tilt your head to the side and quietly ask him to please leave you alone? When he saw you first thing Monday morning with circles under your eyes that were barely disguised by drug store concealer; Why, when he leaned into you as he passed you in the hall with a quiet “Something keep you up last night?” Did you only give him a passing glance with lips pressed together in what might’ve been an attempt at a small smile just to fall flat with that dull look in your eyes.

Being how he is, his game plan had been to keep bugging you constantly. Wear you down until you were finally glaring or giggling or whining, and everything could be back to the way it was. Maybe you were just suddenly playing hard to get. Being a teasing brat who would eventually have a smirk sneak out so he knew you were toying with him, and he could make you pay for it later. That smirk never quirked up your lip though. You were still such a rainy cloud drifting through the school.

The little twerp got to him at lunch today, too. He wonders now if maybe you were sick of the way he acted, and realized you want deserve someone a little less inclined to pigtail-tugging and a little more open and romantic. But why now? He thought you enjoyed it all. That’s why he wasn’t expelled already. That’s why you fucked him and called him for more. Right? Sitting in his van instead of attending the last class of the day, Eddie rubs his hands over his face and lets out a frustrated groan. He feels something crucial missing in him at the fact that he’d rather pull teeth than drop down his smug and playful demeanor even for a second and show you that he’s yours.

He noticed you were pretty when you were a sophomore, but not much else. Now in your senior year with him, god—you aren’t even pretty. You’re fucking devastating, and he knows his methods of showing affection aren’t something that will stand the test of time. You’ll grow tired and fuck it, he’d be living up to that Munson name if he has to see you with someone else—probably wind up serving time right alongside Pops after leaving some guy in the hospital. So maybe there were tweaks to be had. Even if he’s bitter and reluctant about it. (And did I mention bitter?)

Eddie pulls his hands away from his face at the faint sound of a bell, letting the side of his head fall against the window with a solid thunk as he awaits the crowds of students rushing out of the school.

*

You’re passing by others on your way out of the building, just as relieved as everyone else to be going home for the day—not that your excitement showed. It’s more of a calm relief to be heading to your room again than everyone else’s bubbly enthusiasm to make plans for the rest of the day. (When they should be getting their assignments done after all it’s not Friday yet, you think, but maybe that’s just because you evidently have no life.)

Making your way through the parking lot, a loud horn makes you jump. Your eyes wild and your heart up in your throat, you look around until you spot Eddie laying on his horn with his tongue partially sticking out off to the side. He lets up the second you lock eyes and laughs.

“Need a ride? Gotta couple of good options.”

You huff, trying to ignore his filthy innuendo and shake your head. He groans, settling his head back against the head rest of his seat while you start walking away.

“What the fuck is your problem? Jesus fucking Christ!”

You keep walking, hearing his car door open and the sound of his sneakers on the pavement. His car buzzes irritably at its door being left open while running, but he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t care about anything, really. He rests a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

“’m just not in the mood, Eddie.” You snap the second you’re facing him.

But you’re always in the mood, he wants to argue as if that made a difference right now. He lets out a long breath that puffs out his lips as he decompresses, arm bent up to rub his hand on the back of his neck. It’s evident that he’s not used to this, and doesn’t have a clue how to go about it. You eye him in that moment, waiting for him. Waiting for something that made that ache in your chest dissipate and the hole it leaves be filled with a light warmth. Then you’re ready to give up on waiting for something that clearly wasn’t going to happen when he suddenly dips down and drapes you over his shoulder all in one fluid motion.

“I- Eddie-!“

“I- Eddie- I-” He mimics, clearly out of habit and opens the back door to his van to plop you right on top of a random cushion nestled inside. It looks like it’s just a single couch cushion and you wonder where he got only one. Is it from an old couch that was getting tossed anyways? Did he steal it? Who steals a singular couch cushion from the seat of a sofa? And what was that stain on the corner? You’re shifting away from it as he climbs in after you, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips again until the door is shut and he’s settled against it with a sigh.

“Yoo-hoo.”

“What?”

He scratches his jaw as he looks over at you then points at the stain you were avoiding.

“Yoo-hoo. The drink. That’s what the stain is from.”

“Oh… okay.”

Eddie lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes going wide as he fights the urge to roll them while he stares up at the ceiling of his vehicle, and then he finally speaks up again.

“Why are you being all…” He gestures his hands out in a odd way, flopping them a bit before settling them on his legs again. He sighs, tilting his head down and looking over at you again. “I don’t fucking know… you’re not being fun this week.”

Your nostrils flare and your brow creases with a pulse of rage at his words.

“Oh I’m so sorry that I’m not playing your game, Eddie. For your information, yes—as you said so elegantly before— I’m ‘on my rag’ and don’t exactly feel like dealing with you.”

Despite the tone you’re taking with him, a grin is pulling at his face and a few laughs bubble from his chest that were almost like little amused giggles. God, he missed getting you all worked up.

“What? Never got it before?” He suddenly questions.

“I- What?”

He snickers.

“Your rag. The crimson tide. Never ridden the cotton pony before?” He’s having too much fun with this and your face is getting all hot.

“Cause I kinda doubt it. Y’know…” he gestures to your form, “The idea that you haven’t gone through puberty yet sounds fake to me, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well you’ve never acted like this before so unless this is your first week of Carrie...” He hisses an inhale through his teeth.

“My condolences, but look at it this way: You’re finally a woma- hey!” He’s laughing until he’s dodging the random work boot you toss at him—the sight of him scooting away from the projectile actually getting a giggle from you.

“Those ‘r for the garage, doll. Heavy duty shit, can’t be throwing those.” He chastises as he waves the shoe at you, but there’s a weight that’s lifting from him. He got you to just sit and talk to him, and even made you laugh. Even if you’re biting the inside of your cheek now to try and refrain from giving him the satisfaction of your smile. How are things like this right now? Shouldn’t he be bending you over his knee for not acting the way he wanted you to? Shouldn’t he be angry? Shouldn’t he be making you cry?

“I’ve gotten my period before.” You state simply. Eddie puts the boot down, dropping his head back against the interior of his van as he looks at you expectantly.

“Then what? What’s with the bitching and the ignoring and the crybaby shit?” He asks bluntly, making your brow furrow again.

“And not even the good crybaby shit,” he continues in a softer tone as he makes his way over to you, “Where’s my pouty girl, huh? Where’s my brat?”

My. My. It’s making your head swirl, his words and proximity putting up a good fight against this latest impulse to be cold to him. He’s settled in front of you and pulling you forward by your hips.

“Don’t wanna talk about it…” You murmur because he should know. He should’ve automatically known the second he left your room that he fucked up when he didn’t kiss you.

“No? Do I gotta bully it out of you, baby? Should I keep up with what I’ve been doing or are you gonna keep pissing me off with that silent treatment shit if I do?”

Watching your expression, his hands settled on your hips start to massage his fingertips in small circles against your lower back. A sigh falls from your lips before you can even stop it, melting from his touch. He’s massaging that spot that’s been tied up in knots the past couple of days, and taking care of it perfectly. Just when you think he’s suddenly a completely different person he stops the movements entirely. That familiar pout that he loves pulls at your lower lip, clearly disappointed by the loss of his kneading.

“Gonna tell me?” He coos, tilting his head.

Your lips part then close again, faltering on if you should just tell him. He mimics the motion then your pout before grinning at you again. You stay quiet, a new conflict arising inside your head. Should you just tell him and move forward? Should you let him suffer until he figures it out? He deserves to suffer in your book, but who knows how long it would take for him to realize. The man has failed his senior year twice already.

“No? Okay, doll.” He’s separating himself from you now, moving to a corner of his van to start digging through some random stacks and piles there.

He’s going on about how he’d help if he could, but he guessed that won’t happen now. How if only you’d cut lil’ ol’ him a break. His theatrical and bitter words are coated in a soft tone and playful, exaggerated sighs. He’s having all the fun in the world trying to tease you until you just sigh and admit whatever your major malfunction is. It’s lighthearted in comparison to his usual teasing, but even this starts bringing the tears forward.

You hate that he doesn’t know. That it clearly didn’t mean enough for him to notice. You hate that he pulls you in all smooth and sweet to get you intoxicated on him just for him to laugh over it and leave you alone again. You hate how he’s suddenly making you feel cared for just for him to go away again cause he isn’t getting what he wants. Now you’re desperately trying to hide the fact that you’re crying as all of your feelings and aches and pains of this week rush through you.

Sure, he’s seen you cry before but it was never like this. It was teary eyes from frustration or, recently, the occasional sob from how good he made you feel. It’s never been breaking down after a hard week. It’s never sobbing because after all this time the two of you finally cracked, and you’re scared you’re the only one increasingly enchanted every passing second since that first kiss. It was never hiccuping sobs that you were doing your best to push down. Your face is burning, your sight blurry even though tears kept rolling down your cheeks. It’s like there’s a never ending supply to stream down your face and still keep your vision bleary.

“Jus’ sayin’ we could be doing something way more fun right no…w…” He trails off once he finally looks over at you.

He’s holding an unopened pack of cigarettes he had been looking for in his typical mess and pulling out his lighter, but now all his focus is on the way you’re sniffling and shaking. You’re still sat on that cushion, knees up and a hand settled over your mouth with your head turned away from him. A heart-wrenching sob just barely sneaks its way out before you choke it back down. Little huffs are escaping you in a desperate attempt to breathe without letting your need to wail break free. It feels like your lungs are on fire.

“Y/N…” Eddie says in a tender voice that you didn’t think he was even capable of. You shake your head.

“Y/n c’mon…” He tries again with a small, nervous laugh. Nervous you were serious. Nervous that he really made you so upset. Nervous to really show that he cares if he did.

“It’s okay, really-“ Your voice is higher than usual, another heavy breath puffing out before you try to drag it in again just to end up whimpering as another wave of sadness comes over you and you’re too overwhelmed to hold it in. You stay facing away from him as you cry and hiccup, trying to get it back under control.

“I just- it’s stupid, it’s n-ot that big of a deal.”

For Eddie, making you cry is all about the glossy eyes and pouty lips as you stare up at him defiantly or a sign that you need him to quit playing games and fuck you. It’s never been this… brutal. Panic continues to rise in his system, and he’s unsure of how to handle the situation. Once upon a time, he thought he treated you the way that he did because some sadistic part of him liked to always make you hurt, but it was becoming evident that he just liked the play. The banter. The shoving and the glaring and pouting and the wandering eyes. When he acted the way he always did and you didn’t respond or did so in a quiet plea for him to really stop or really cried—it made his stomach clench. The more he tried to keep it up this week the more he realized that when you weren’t playing along he just… he was just mean. Really mean. Not “you’re so awful, just fuck me already” mean, but “you’re making me miserable” mean. And fuck if he didn’t hate the way that felt.

“Is it really that bad?” He murmurs, partially surprised by his own voice when it sounded this gentle. The thin plastic around his cigarettes crinkle under his nervous hands. And he thought he needed a smoke before. “Did I hurt you? Or-or somethin’? Do you need to go to a doctor?”

“No.” You weep, still refusing to look at him and it’s killing him even if a part of him knows he would crumble if he sees how you look right now. God, he hated this. The vulnerability of caring openly and to this extent, but what else could he do? Double down on his usual behavior and kick you while you were already so down you might as well have been sinking into the pavement?

“Y/N, please-“ He tries again and you crack completely.

“It’s just not fair because I thought I wanted this, but it’s to-oo hard. You don’t care enough to stick around. Y-You don’t check in with me. You’ve pushed me around for the past two years and I’m an idiot who thought it was all lighthe-hearted deep down, a-and that you wanted me too.”

You break down into tears again until you put yourself back together just enough so it’s only the constant sniffling and your voice trembling that’s interrupting you. All Eddie can do is stare at you with big brown eyes like saucers while you babble, his brow frowning as he anxiously picks at his fingernails and the skin around them.

“A-And of course I got my fucking period cause why wouldn’t I? Cause why would I catch a break? N-N my body aches and I’m so tired and you… you couldn’t… you didn’t…”

“What?” He’s shuffling a bit closer now, lowering his face like he always did to catch your attention. He was right that seeing your face like this would cave him in, and he wishes he could be dropped into a black hole. He knew he deserved it. At the sight of your current state, he was pulling that smoke he already had his fingertips on and placing it between his lips. He lights it and inhales deeply before letting his hand drop down, cig between his fore and middle fingers, ring finger toying with a tear in his jeans.

“You…” You let out a breath before dropping your gaze to your hands in your lap, tears still slipping down your cheeks and over your jaw to wet your neck and dampen the collar of your top or drop down and land on that skort he hated. “You wouldn’t even kiss me on Sunday…”

You sound horribly deflated at the admission, and his eyes flicker all over your features before the smallest twitches of the corners of his lips start to tug them up even though his eyes hold a sad sort of infatuation within them.

“You kissed me on Friday, but not once on Sunday. And you didn’t even seem to care…” You mumble, glancing over at him once and then twice when you notice the curve of his lips. Your eyes burn with a potential for new tears. “Are you fucking smiling?”

“No—no, well, yeah. Not like that.” He huffs out an anxious laugh. “I just… you ignored me… cause I didn’t give you a kiss..?”

You scoff, lips parted and gaze furious. He is unbelievable.

“Among other things! I-I… ugh! You’re infuriating!” You announce and his brows shoot up, grin widening with interest and he brings his cigarette back to his lips.

“You… you make fun of me constantly. You fuck me and finish in me and don’t even spend time with me after. The least you can do is kiss me. Or… or…” You huff, which was becoming a theme today.

He can’t help but find you cute when you’re angry. You remind him of that temperamental pixie in that old animated Peter Pan film from the ‘50s. He used to babysit a young girl in the trailer park who watched it constantly (much to his chagrin).

“Or you don’t get to have me anymore.” You conclude, and he just keeps staring at you with wild eyes as he smokes.

Your anxieties peak and a voice in your head is screaming to get out of the damn van, even when he’s just casually puffing on a cigarette without a hint of irritation on his face. Eddie lets the cig stick to his bottom lip as his hands find your form to pull you closer to him. His right hand raises to place the smoke between his middle and forefinger, and remove it from his lips. His left hand moves to hook his thumb on your lower lip and part your mouth for him to plant an open-mouthed kiss on you as his smoke floats around you and in your mouth, his tongue hot on yours. The pamphlets your parents gave you about the dangers of cigarettes popped up in your mind as his smoke fills you. The statistics and pictures of smoker lungs mean nothing to you as he kisses you like this.

You’re more than just warming up to the smell you usually couldn’t stand, and you find yourself back where you were on Friday. Willing to take whatever he gives you. As long as he kept kissing you like this. As long as he kisses you like he plans on making you his wife while he fucks you like he’s your high school bully. The kiss is all tongues and muffled moans, your arms wrapping around his neck. You chase after his lips when he finally starts pulling away. An involuntary whimper slid from you as you look at him with heavy eyelids.

“If you want something…” He trails off in a whisper, keeping his half-lidded eyes on you even as he reaches over to tap off ash into a cheap plastic tray. His thumb and pointer finger pinch your chin to keep your focus on him. “You ask, okay? Pretty standard rules, princess.”

“But…”

“But now,” He cuts you off with a soft sigh, head tilting as he looks at you. The eye contact is becoming so intense it’s burning through you. “Now I know this is important for you, ‘kay?”

You’re surprised by this. Honestly you’re shocked by every kindness and touch of patience he provided you today. You would have never guessed Eddie Munson is even capable of such a thing. You nod with your gaze retreating downwards, toying with your hands and he chases after your stare with a tilt of his head to try and get you to look at him again, brows raised up.

“Doll?”

You wipe at the cooling streaks of tears on one cheek with your shoulder then finally look up again, and nod with more confidence this time.

“And…” He looks almost like he’s in pain for a moment before he finally continues “‘m sorry, okay?”

“…Really?” You murmur, eyes wide with shock.

“Yeah.” He huffs out a laugh. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m capable of an apology, given the right circumstances.”

You eye him, silent with hesitation and shock.

“‘N the right girl.” He murmurs with a soft voice even though he had that shit-eating grin on his face. Why is it always so charming? It’s smug and teasing, but always so endearing.

You don’t know what else to do so you just kiss him. You pull him in by his shoulders and kiss him. You kiss him like you could devour him, body and soul. His arms circle around your waist after leaving that partly-smoked cigarette in the cheap ash tray and drags you closer all while kissing you back. He’s leaning down to place you on the scratchy carpeting and hover over you. Any break for air is short-lived before you’re back on each other. Your hands tangle in the messy curls draping around your head, tugging to pull a groan from him.

“Fuck…” He sighs into the kiss, dropping his body down to put more of his weight on you. He parts from your lips despite your whiny protests and presses kisses and nips to your jaw as he works his way to your neck. His arms unfurl from around your waist so his hands can settle on your hips and let his thumbs massage into your skin. You’re pawing at his vest as he works on leaving a love bite on your pulse point below your ear, and—surprisingly—he moves away to shake the jacket-vest combo off and drop it beside you. You eye the fit of his t-shirt and it makes your mind fog up.

All your focus is on the shape of his tummy against the fabric. The way the material sticks to him and shows all the harsh angles of his toned chest. The fact that he had cut off the bottom hem of his top and when he moves the right way you can see that trail of hair on his lower stomach. The shape of his arms under the sleeves. Does he work out? Considering his lack of discipline, you couldn’t imagine him having an exercise regimen, but dear god. His arms weren’t absurdly cut, but they were still thick with enough muscle that his sleeves seem a little tight. You can see the veins of his forearms and the blown out ink on his skin. When he’s on top of you again, sucking on your neck, you let your hands drag over his back and sneak underneath his shirt. The heat of his skin and the moving musculature alone making your toes curl. You’re happy to have him on you, but you wanted that damn shirt off too. You’re grasping at the fabric and pulling it up, gasping when he bites on your neck for doing so.

“Take that shit off-“ You huff, making a smile tug at his lips.

“Using my lines now, doll?” He purrs once he’s raised up again and grasping behind his head to pull his shirt over it. You can’t even think of a smart reply, your brain short circuiting at the sight of his naked torso. Even though you enjoy it, you never really understood his urge to bite. You sure do now. You shift from laying on your back to sit up in front of him while he remains raised up on his knees. Your hands slide up his stomach, feeling the goosebumps that raise in the wake of your cold fingertips. He’s still for once and you bring your hands back down to pull on his belt, fighting against the stiff leather to slide it out of the buckle.

You’ve never given head before, mainly because the only time there was an opportunity it had been with a guy you didn’t even like that much who kept trying to push your head down while you were kissing; but you felt feverish with thoughts of Eddie’s dick down your throat. While rushing to go down on him was the last thing you had on your mind at the start of your day, after he was so sweet on you, you were desperate to taste him.

Eddie’s breath is staggered as he watches you undo his jeans, his pupils all blown out. He can’t even count how many times he’s fantasized about those lips wrapped around his cock, but he knew after everything that he didn’t deserve to go first. Fuck, he wanted to, but he doesn’t deserve it. Belt open and slack and jeans undone, he grabs your hands to pin them over your head once you were pushed back onto the floor and he leans down to kiss you. One hand holds the side of your face and the other is pulling the zipper on your hip down, muttering a you first against your lips.

Before tugging at your skirt skort, Eddie pulled away again to lift your shirt off. He grew irritable for a moment with the long sleeves that fought him, tossing it aside harshly with a grumble that made you giggle. That gentle laugh was the only thing that lightened his mood again and encouraged a small smile before he continued. He kisses down your body, giving you the occasional bite. There are little things that he does along the way that make parts of you feel beautiful—parts that you either don’t pay attention to or even aren’t fond of. It’s an odd thing considering how mean he always is, but he seems to show a devotion to each and every inch of your skin that wouldn’t occur to most men. The way his hands slide along your sides as he makes his way down your chest, giving you the occasional squeeze. The way his arms slip around your midsection and bring you closer to his face with a press to the small of your back, smothering his face between your breasts still covered by a flimsy, lace bra—breathing in the scent of your skin. The way his hold relaxes as he continues down, just to squeeze you to him again when he finds a new spot he wants to smother himself in. One side of your tummy underneath your ribs. The slight rise of your lower abdomen beneath your belly button. Your hip bones.

You’re so drunk on his touch at first that it doesn’t even occur to you where this is leading until he’s already face-to-face with the center of your underwear.

“E-Eddie- no-“ You squeak out suddenly. “Not that.”

He lifts his head to eye you curiously and with surprise at the denial of getting head, lips parted in a question that you interrupt.

“I’m on my period, remember?”

Eddie half-jerks his shoulder up in a careless shrug. “Yeah, I know. So?”

“It’s just… it’s so messy and bloody. I wouldn’t even want you to eat me out right now if I was still mad at you.”

“Doll, c’mon…” He groans while pressing his face into your inner thigh—not to try and convince you to give consent cause he doesn’t care about this boundary, but rather to show how badly he wants to do this. That he doesn’t care about the mess and he doesn’t think it’s gross, in fact he found it hot. If you were sitting in his bed or in his passenger seat and got your period, his perv ass probably wouldn’t even try to remove the stain.

“I want to.” He insists, pulling away again to look up at you. “I think it would be so fucking hot. It’ll help the pain, princess.”

You consider the offer for a moment, wondering if he’s right. If he could make you feel so good that he’d reach and clear out those aches and pains that Tylenol couldn’t even touch. You still shake your head, the thought of all that blood on his tongue and the smell in his nostrils making you nervous and embarrassed. He groans again and dramatically flops into your stomach to hide his face.

“Not with your mouth.” You clarify, cheeks all rosy.

At that, he finally raises his head with a raised brow and his bangs all messy.

“Oh yeah?”

He’s sitting up now, settling back against folded legs as he raises your legs one by one to take your shoes off and toss them randomly. You tilt your head to watch one sneaker smack the back of the passenger seat, then look to the side to watch your second sneaker smack into the interior with a vibrating clunk. After taking off your shoes, your ankles are lightly settled on his shoulders and he has his hands wrapped around your calves as he tilts his head to press a kiss to the inside of one ankle. Then he’s moving to bite the inside of the opposite knee.

After that, he skips right back to your lips, your legs parted to settle on either side of him now. Eddie hooks his fingertips into the band of your underwear and pulls them down, having to begrudgingly separate enough so you can bend your knees up to your chest while he tugs them off your legs. He’s about to casually pull on the string of your tampon when you shake your head quickly and clasp your hand over your entrance.

“I’ll- I’ll do it.” You murmur and he’s (once again) groaning irritably.

He wishes you wouldn’t be so sheepish about it. He can understand the experience of your period not being the most comfortable thing in the world, but he doesn’t know what he has to do to show that he likes it. That he wants to go down on you and wipe that mess off of his face with pride, therefore not needing to look away at your insistence while you take out your tampon. Maybe it’s his pride in being a freak. Maybe it’s a slight twinge of superiority, knowing that he was one of the few guys that would even offer in the first place. Maybe it’s that breeding kink flaring up at what he saw as a glaring reminder that you could possibly get pregnant with his kid. Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s you. But he lets you do it yourself, holding in his usual attitude for the sake of your sensitivity for once, then leaning back down to kiss you the second you give the okay.

The kiss doesn’t have as much of an apologetic gentleness as the others, but it was passionate and it was hot. The heavy breathing and groping and spit; the taste of cigarettes and mint; the scratch of slight stubble and the bump of his nose against yours. Eddie shot a hand out to feel for his jacket which he promptly crams under your tailbone to raise your hips, then dips his thumbs in the band of his exposed boxers to pull his pants and boxers down. (He didn’t take them off completely per usual, but you took getting him shirtless as your win).

Eddie pulls away just enough to wrap his hand around his cock, giving it a few good tugs before leading it to your entrance. He keeps an eye on your expression, plunging into you the moment his tip slid in. The few times he’s fucked you, you were always so messy and wet and warm, but this was enough to sign his soul away. You were soaked with arousal and blood as expected, but he wasn’t prepared for how much puffier you are like this. And so fucking hot. You mewl at the sensation, a dull ache in your lower abdomen at the start, but it’s slowly dissipating. Maybe it’s the association between blood and pain, and menstruation and pain, but you genuinely thought this would hurt more than usual—you certainly weren’t betting on your heightened sensitivity. Even that first stroke slipping into you lit up your nerves.

“‘S good, right?” He asks with a cocky grin, left hand wrapped around your right thigh and his right hand sliding over your tummy and slowly massaging the area.

You almost don’t want to admit it, but you do with a nod and pouty lips that have pathetic little whimpers slipping past them. Eddie slides back out a couple inches then pushes back into you, your toes curling as a bit of blood and arousal gushes and sputters out around his base. You curse under your breath, encouraging him to proceed. He’s uncharacteristically tender, and while seeing his sweet side today was a pleasant surprise—you just wanted him to fuck you.

“Eddie-“ You breathe out.

“Hm?”

“Please just fuck me.”

His grin is devilish and his gaze is fiery. He snaps his hips forward once without wasting a second, threatening to making your eyes roll back.

“Yeah?” He leans down, his voice a condescending whisper as he stays infuriatingly still while this deep. “My baby come cryin’ cause ‘m too mean? But she still wants me to bully her little pussy?”

You whine and nod your head, his following thrusts nearly punching the breath out of your lungs. His hand rests over your pubic bone and starts rubbing at your clit as he fucks into you. Your head lolls back into the carpeting, breasts bouncing with his efforts.

“Such a good fucking slut for me. This pussy all mine?”

“Uh huh-“ You speak in a whiny moan, hips weakly pushing forward and he takes the hint.

Eddie pulls you forward by your hips and holds you close to him as he gives you breathtakingly shallow thrusts. Your eyes begin to water from the way he’s moving inside you and his thumb is brushing on your clit. His other hand parts from your hip to grip onto the center of your bra, pulling it down to free your breasts and to keep a steady grip on you by the fabric clasped around your chest.

“Eddie-” You sob, and an earth-shattering sense of relief blows through him, leaving him temporarily wrecked before settling again like a gust of wind pushing up bird feathers before they smooth out again. Finally seeing those globs of tears in your eyes in the way he loves brought that balance back, and he’s doubling his efforts. Your lips part and your back arches up off of the carpet of his van, those wet streaks leading from your eyes back into your hair just like they were on Friday.

You’re counting your blessings that you aren’t back in your bed with your parents down the hall during your make up session because even the fear of being caught wouldn’t have been able to stop the moan that gasps from your lungs when you cum around him. All the tension and hormones and yearning of this week mixing with the overpowering pleasure he’s giving you, all culminating to this very moment and making you see stars. You feel like you’ve been temporarily shoved under water, all of the sounds around you muffling—even the sound of your own breathing. Just as you’re floating back up to the surface, Eddie’s leaning down to place his lips on yours. His large hands cover both sides of your face as he’s kissing you like he means it, only letting his hands part from your cheeks to wrap around your midsection and scoop you up while he sits back.

“Fuck-” You breathe out, hands settling to cradle the back of his head. You’re sure you look as disheveled as you feel. He thinks you look incredible.

“I know right?” He teases, all smug even in this quieter tone of voice and he laughs when you smack at his arm.

He eyes you from where his face is level with your chest, watching the playful irritation melt from your expression as he starts thrusting up into you. You’re almost too overstimulated from him moving so close to your orgasm that was still pulsing in the aftershock, but fuck if this doesn’t feel too good to pause even for a moment. Eddie wraps his arms around you to finally unclasp your bra and fling it towards the front of his van, metal hooks clinking against the hard surface of his dashboard. His hands smooth over your back, groaning against your skin as he smothers himself between your breasts again, fucking up into you. You start bouncing on top of him to meet his thrusts, whimpering quietly at the fluttering still rippling through your walls. You still have that palpable pulse inside you, squeezing around him and making it incredibly difficult to not cum before he can get you to let go at least one more time.

“C’n you cum for me, doll? Gimme one more?” He finally separates from your chest to look up at you again and while you were always the one looking fucked out, when you look at him you can’t help but feel like you’re seeing him the same way. A faint shine to his doe eyes glossed over with lust, that rosy tint to his cheeks, and the swell of his pink lips. You nod, but your hips buck in disagreement when his touch is back on your clit. It’s admittedly too soon, your eyes burning with prickling tears as the pleasure jolts through you like shocks of electricity rather than rolling waves—but you certainly weren’t going to ask him to stop.

You gasp out his name, fingers gripping the hair all damp with perspiration at the nape of his neck. You feel like you’re vibrating and the cramping in your stomach nearly makes you break and ask him to stop nudging at that sensitive bud. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, hearing him groan against your skin, feeling his hot breath on your chest. The two of you are moving like the universe would simply unravel if you stopped—as if it isn’t already unraveling in this moment.

“Oh my god-“ You moan and Eddie’s sinking his teeth into your breast—partly to punctuate his claim, partly to muffle his own sounds as he unloads inside of you.

You’re trembling in his lap with soft sobs in the aftershock of probably the most heart-stopping, all-consuming orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Even the slightest touch to your flushed skin sent shocks throughout your nerves and made you cry out, so Eddie stays still.

When both of your hearing is clear again, and you swallow to bring some moisture back to your throat—you let out a small laugh. It isn’t malicious or mocking. It rose up out of pure joy and relief and (honestly) a bit of surprise at everything that’s happened. And it all happened so quickly, you aren’t sure if your memory was able to keep up. God, you hoped it was. You want to relive it every time you close your eyes at night.

Eddie’s licking his lips and pulling back to look at you, a few laughs of his own bubbling up. Like always, he isn’t quick to pull out, but he does set you back down onto the carpet and press a few kisses to your jaw. His hands are pressed into the floor on either side of your head, pulling up his upper body to look down at you. Your hair is messy around your face, and streaks of mascara are all muddled around your eyes and down your cheeks. He put all of his weight on one arm to allow his other hand to raise up and swipe at those black streaks with his thumb before settling back down to kiss you, one arm still pressed up and bent at the elbow and the other settling his forearm on the rug.

The kiss is slower, but still sloppy with exhaustion. He pulls back one more time just to smile down at your face and ends up right back to kissing you seconds later.

*

The sun is setting in Hawkins and the two of you are all over each other until you realize how late it had gotten and your lips might as well have been ready to fall off. But even when you’re dropped off at home with excuses ready, he still climbed in through that bedroom window to keep kissing you once everyone in the house retired for the night.

After all, you finally left it unlocked and he couldn’t stand another week out in the cold.

*

Eddie never did work up the nerve to properly ask you what you meant by that blunt reply that one Autumn day... ↓

CLICK ON YOUR ENDING OF CHOICE:

fluffy ❤️

angsty 💔

taglist: @mynameismothra @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @elvendria @psychospore @daisyridleyyyy @sidthedollface2 @kelsiegrin @swiss-cheeze @darknesseddiem @magnificantmermaid @hazydespair @bonehead-playz @stephanie-nicks76 @madaboutjoe @homiesexual-or-homosexual @neobanguniverse @prestinalove @galaxyfxcs @canyonmooncreations @hereforshmut @ediewentmissing @sadest-bookshelf @harlowsgirl @damon-loves-pie @stardustmunson @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @bitchyseawitch @littlered0000

*note: if you requested to be tagged and you’re not there it’s because tumblr’s saying your acct doesn’t exist 🫠

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #bully!eddie munson #mean!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #stranger things x reader #as if eddie munson #stranger things imagine #as if eddiessluttywaist #as if part 3 #as if part 3 eddiessluttywaist

[starswguru]

❝ message in a bottle ; 마크이

𖥻 pairing: college!mark lee x female reader

𖥻 contains: college!au, fluff, slight angst, second chance romance

𖥻 warnings: swearing, marijuana & alcohol consumption / english is not my first language and this is my first work ever on tumblr so i am sorry if there's any grammar mistakes or misspellings

word count — 4.06k

sypnosis — you and mark were in a situationship for a few months before things ended poorly when you got too scared of your feelings and he had to leave the country for an exchange program in london. now, six months later, you were at a party with your friends and discovered mark was back in town.

🎀

AND just like that, your whole world stopped spinning for a long and torturous minute. in the blink of an eye, you went from being over-the-moon excited — and slightly intoxicated — with the idea of partying with your friends during the first summer night before heading to your hometown in the next couple of days to being paralyzed, feeling all your blood get drained far away from where it should be in your body. in the blink of an eye, you went from being a happy girl with the arrival of the last member of your friend group to someone terrified with the sight of a ghost from the past. a quick glance, unintended by all means, in mark’s direction was all it took for the memories from that previous year to come flooding back to hit you like a lost train.

“hey, princess,” he said. his cheeks burning in a shade of shameful red, but something stronger than him was preventing his stare from going anywhere else other than your eyes. there was a blunt hanging between his teeth. “how you doing?”

“that’s it, guys; i’m done with this. i’m just gonna change my major or something like that! everything’s going terribly wrong, and i can’t keep torturing myself by studying this shit.”

you dropped your head and rested your forehead on your arm that lay on top of the desk in front of you right as the confession slipped from your lips like a dangerous poison that you should not have taken. it was the first time you’d ever said it out loud to someone else to hear — other than the mischievous voice inside your head — how you truly felt about the english major you were pursuing. the fear of judgment and of being too hasty about this decision was corroding every last bit of your emotional health, and because of it, you could sense that a storm was coming. what if you did change majors and ended up not adapting? how would you find a job, or better yet: how would you support living all by yourself if you couldn’t even pick an undergraduate academic path? time was running out, and the unbearable clock inside your mind wouldn’t give you a break. the tick-tacking of the goddamn thing was going to drive you to insanity at any point soon.

“hey, chill for once, okay? it’s normal to feel like that and to want something new. hell, i know i had to change my major twice before finding out what i actually wanted to do. jae did the same thing. you’re not alone.” jeno offered you a small yet reassuring smile or someone who didn’t quite know what to say but still wanted to see his friend more relaxed.

“exactly! take a deep breath and think things through with an easy heart. if you need help, we’re here to help you." swallowing the last bite of the sandwich he had bought earlier, renjun tapped the notebook in front of him. “how’s that linguistics project going?”

as you raised your head, you shook your head in a negative sign. “i mean, it’s good. too good, actually… and that’s sort of the problem. like, the dude i’m working with is super sweet and really fucking good at this class and so he’s kind of doing the whole thing by himself and dragging me along with it ever since we started. i feel terrible, even if he says it’s all good and stuff, but it is what it is, i guess.”

before either of the guys could express any opinion about what was just said, a guy with freshly cut black hair — it was even possible to see the drawing of a spiderweb on the left side of his undercut —, earphones in and a large yankees shirt approached the desk, more specifically you, and offered a genuine smile that wasn’t common to see between two colleagues who were only working on a school project together at you. the unknown man squatted so he could be at your height and unlocked his ipad’s screen to the word document the two of you were using to write notes together, or at least that was the initial idea because the reality was that mark was doing all of it alone, proudly.

“oh, hi, y/n, you good? just wanted to ask you a quick question… have you taken a look at this topic right here? i know we’re only supposed to work on it in two weeks but i was wondering if maybe you’ve come up with the same conclusion as me.”

feeling a thousand times more embarrassed than if a professor asked you to present a thirty-minute seminar alone in front of the whole class, you felt the tip of your fingers getting cold and a thin droplet of sweat rolling down your temple. “uhm, hey, mark. yeah, about that… look, i didn’t really have a chance to look at that yet, i’m sorry. i can barely manage this week’s assignments, let alone two weeks from now. i- i’ll text you when i read it, okay?”

you didn’t know it at the time — or if you did, you had an enviable ability of discretion — but every single time mark heard his name escape from your heavenly drawn lips, his heart would skip a beat or two and he felt like he was about to combust at any second. it was the first time in his whole life that he had ever felt that way about someone and dealing with feelings of that magnitude was both weird and extraordinary, which meant that the ravenette wasn’t completely aware of how to process them. mark’s solution for his overwhelming thoughts whenever you were around was to take charge of everything he could in that project, to make you feel relaxed about that one particular class. the canadian was terrible at linguistics, for his skills were much more reliable during literature classes: he could interpret and internalize poetry from the eighteenth century like it was nothing, and plays written in latin during the roman empire were of natural understanding for him; and yet, ever since the first day of that semester in which it was requested that both of you joined efforts to build the complicated assignment, it was impossible for mark to not pull all-nighters reading texts and more texts, watching one video class after another that broke down the subject of that class just so he could give his absolute best when the time came to work alongside you and you didn’t find him an idiot, as most people in that university usually did after meeting him for the first time.

mark just wanted to impress you and the last thing he could be worried about was doing all that alone, as long as it meant that he could still have the minimum interaction with you.

“yeah, sure, that’s cool. if you need anything let me know, alright?”

you were still in a state of complete shock. no words would come out of your mouth, making it impossible to answer properly the question directed at you by the boy that a year before was the reason for many sleepless nights and therapy sessions, through no fault of his, which was even worse, because mark was perfect and you hated yourself for how everything ended.

a cold breeze, too cold for a summer night, hit the both of you with enough strength to make you shiver and it was only then that you realized that none of your friends were around anymore. you were alone again with mark for what had felt like a lifetime since he left the country for an exchange program in london and with enough unspoken words to make the whole situation a million times more uncomfortable than it needed to be. what were you supposed to say right now? “oh, hi, mark, long time no see! listen, i’m really sorry for being horrible to you last year, i’ve spent the last six months torturing myself because i only woke up to the fact that i had let the perfect guy for me get away too late to try and fix everything”? you ran your fingers through your hair, knowing that there were no words of your knowledge that could make it easier, that could put together again the pieces of what had once been something magical that the two of them were building.

you couldn’t care less about all those times your therapist tried to be kinder to your heart than you had ever been, or how your friends always tried to distract your mind from the constant haunt of self-collection and, to be honest, didn’t really mind that yes, after all the effort and studying, you had managed to change your major to something you actually enjoyed if the price for it was to drop the perfect crystal piece that was mark’s precious heart. there were no words that could take that back, and going against every piece of advice that was given to you, you had imagined more times than you’d like to admit how this encounter would play out: what you would do, what you would say or not say, how it’d feel… but none of those scenarios inside your mind was anywhere near to the real sensation of being in front of him again.

mark looked taller — or maybe it was just the feeling of missing him crushing your soul and clouding your judgment —, the slim body now gave way to the body of a man who went to the gym and tried to truly take care of his health, his hair that previously used to be as dark as the t-shirts he used to enjoy wearing was now covered in a shade of red so bright that it reminded you of his favorite superhero’s suit. even still, the one thing that caught your attention the most were his eyes. before mark left, before the whole chaos, they were always big and full of life, like those of a curious cub and you could always feel a cozy warmth travel across your body when mark looked at you with such brightness; however, it seemed that ever since the canadian got back in town, they were opaque, closed off to the outer world as if his eyes were now carrying some kind of intense melancholy behind them. the familiar redness in his sclerae, months ago, used to always be accompanied by an excited and smiling version of mark lee, but that night the only thing apparent to you was that lee was holding on to weed like some kind of way to numb the break-up pain.

the redhead had lived a thousand different lives during his exchange: saw and learned things that he knew he would never have achieved if he hadn't accepted the opportunity to go to england and yet, his mind couldn’t recall any of those experiences with the genuine happiness he should’ve felt like any other normal and grateful person would if they were on his shoes; to mark, ever since you left him all alone, he had turned into nothing but an empty shell of what should’ve been the real mark lee. what were his experiences, his learnings, his funny stories if, at any moment, he was allowed to at least call the person he loved and share all of that with her?

“yeah, i guess i’m okay.” you answered, holding back a cry that was stuck in your throat before looking away. “you?”

a shiver went down the english student as he waited for his project partner to arrive at the coffee shop you two had agreed to meet at to finish for good the agonizing linguistics document. it didn’t even seem real that you were finally concluding the most stressful and endless project of your university career until that moment and despite the sweet taste of reaching the finish line, mark had on his lips a bitter one, because he knew that the very instant you pressed “send” on the body of that e-mail to your professor, all of his excuses to talk to you would come to an end. it was only the beginning of november, you should spend at least a few more weeks studying together if said professor were to follow a normal academic calendar like the rest of his fellow colleagues of the department.

mark would only have one last chance of making this work out and that chance was right there and then. anxiety and fear were destroying the boy with more strength than he himself was biting through his nails waiting for you to arrive.

“gosh, mark, i’m so sorry!” you said in a panting tone when you finally managed to get to the coffee shop and met the guy that, by that point, had already become your friend. “the bus took forever to get to the stop i needed and then the subway was also chaotic… anyways, i’m sorry that i’m late.”

the both of you stayed a long time in that coffee shop, not only finishing the assignment but also laughing together and watching a few episodes of modern family on his computer as a way to relax after all the constant flow of negative emotions the both of you were facing during that semester due to not only that particular class but also all the other ones with their enormous reading load. by the time you had indeed finished what you were supposed to do, you were feeling so comfortable in mark’s presence that you didn’t even notice when you heart started to race faster and faster before the mundane things the lee did: the way he smiled from ear to ear, or how kind he was to everyone around him. you were starting to fall in love with how mark explained all the different concepts he used to build his arguments across the paper like someone would explain the most basic things to a child, and you thought it was sweet the way he would say “dude” and “no way” every couple of sentences that fell from his lips. but, above all, unconsciously, the way mark seemed to glow every time he looked at you was ethereal to your eyes.

as soon as you sent the hated file, it started to rain on the outside of the coffee shop, but contrary to the ideal scenario, you couldn’t stay in there just waiting until the climate conditions became more favorable because the two of you had places to be at, on opposite directions. there would be no other alternative but to run to the nearest subway station, or in the brunette’s case, the bus stop.

mark immediately took off his hoodie to shield you as best as he could from the rain, in exchange for you protecting his backpack that contained his computer as if your life depended on it, the moment you two stepped outside the establishment and something of a thunderstorm was taking over the avenue. mark couldn’t help it and ended up laughing at the situation you two had found yourselves in, thinking about how he wished he was a little less broke and had a car to take the girl of his dreams back to her place without having to worry about the rain, or how he wished he was stronger to pick you up and carry you to the subway station and, with that, spare your shoes from coming in contact with the soaked surface of the sidewalk. before you could notice, you were right in front of the stairs that led to the station.

“bye, i think.” you said, giggling along with him while you tried to fix your hair that, despite mark’s hoodie’s protection, still got wet from the rain.

the lee was going to answer you like a decent and proper person, he really was, but in that very moment, a raindrop fell from the marquee above you and somehow managed to hit you right on the forehead, which made you close your eyes, but mark kept his wide open. with an automatic reaction of his body, almost like an involuntary movement that he was incapable of controlling — such as the beats of his accelerated heart — his left hand traveled to your neck while his right thumb was busy drying the solitary raindrop slowly, to give his mind time to analyze every little inch of your face so close to his. mark tried to respond with words to your farewell, but his impulse to kiss you was far stronger than any cohesive phrase that his brain could formulate in that moment.

the literature student, now in his final semester, nodded as he bit his lower lip and those opaque eyes fell to the floor beneath his feet after stepping on the remaining of his blunt. mark didn’t even know why he started that conversation in the first place, it was obvious that it was impossible for him to stand close to you without it affecting some part of him — whether for good or for bad — and even still, there he was, not managing to say a single word to you, nor being able to get closer, just feeding that giant gray and terrifying cloud that grew over both of your heads due to the impasse of what this was and what it should have been.

unlike his mind, that was only able to repeat tirelessly the day he finally built the confidence to kiss you, yours was in a hurricane of terrible memories that involved the brief, yet intense, relationship you two shared — or whatever the hell one could call it. how was it even possible that something that lasted only four months could leave such deep scars?

if mark was trying to hold back a smile remembering how it felt to have your lips on top of his, you were only torturing yourself with the replayed image of mark being crushed in front of you, by no fault other than your own. it was your fault that fear was allowed to consume every single good thing that the lee had ever given you; it was your fault that you’d thought that whole thing was a sick and sadistic joke from the universe and that, in reality, there was no way someone like him could've ever fallen in love with you. in the deepest, darkest, cruelest part of your soul, you were convinced that everything was your fault and not your mind trying to destroy you before something so pure and happy.

you were a sinking ship, navigating towards a port with not a single sight of a lighthouse’s spark to help you, not knowing how to reach the treasure that awaited your arrival because other people had already destroyed the lighthouse. the ability to grope around, trying to find yourself in the darkness you’d placed yourself, was stripped away from you the second you gave in to the bruises that were caused by third parties, and mark knew it wasn't your fault, although it was still difficult to try and be the guide to someone that wouldn't allow them to have access to the heat and light from the fire he tried to offer.

without even realizing it, the silenced cry stuck in your throat for months on end started to escape, not giving you any power to control it. you felt anger, sadness, frustration and you were missing mark… all at the very same time, in an endless swirl triggered by the mere vision of having mark back into your reality.

just like the first time you kissed, the unconscious answer of mark lee’s body to the sound of you crying after such a long time being away from you was to wrap his arms around your body without allowing himself to give too much thought to the action that just took place. if it was even possible, noticing you needing him in any way, shape or form was a true calling for him and it didn't matter how much time could've gone by, the lee couldn't ignore it. to love you and protect you was just as natural as breathing.

between the supplications for your tears to stop and hair strokes, mark then began to feel something that he thought was dead coming back to life inside the hollow box that was his chest. for months now, the redhead just knew that his heart was no longer there. instead, it must've been put inside a bottle and thrown away into the ocean that separated his emotions from his rational mind, as if he wasn't even the owner of his own feelings.

“please, princess, don't cry. i’m begging you.”

the cruelty of your mind wouldn't give you a break for not even a single second ever since the last time you've heart mark’s melodious voice so close to your ear, and the fact that it carried the same heavy tone of request didn't help with your genuine desire to stop your sobbings as your face was pressed against his chest. in that moment, the last thing on your mind were the looks that other people could be directing at the two of you; you could only see the desperation all over the face of the only man you've ever truly loved. he was in such pain that day — the day you told him you didn't want to see him anymore. soon, though, that image was replaced with the memory of the gut-wrenching feeling of chronic emptiness that filled your chest the following week and you came to your senses that you had make a mistake, but that it was also too late: mark was in another country, it was far too late to ask for forgiveness.

“i know you probably hate me right now. i shouldn't have done that, i shouldn't have said that, i was such an idiot, stupid… i'm sorry, mark, i don't know what was going on in my mind to treat like that, i-”

that sobbing wouldn't allow you to form coherent sentences properly and the way you were crying so helplessly was becoming melancholic instead of just sad to the man holding you. if only mark could get into your merciless head just how he would never be able to hate you, not in a million years, not when there was so much love, desire and adoration intrinsic to the image he had of you, then maybe that big gray cloud would disappear forever and the two of you could just live like he hoped for. all mark wanted was to have the privilege of loving you again.

“y/n, look at me” mark held the red and tear wet face of his beloved girl with kindness while his tone of voice was filled with all the firmness the moment could ask for. “for christ’s sake, y/n, i love you. i could never hate you. dude, really, for once just keep your head out of this and focus on what i’m telling you right now. i love you and this whole time i was thinking of you. only you.”

even if he knew you wouldn't answer anything for a few seconds, or maybe even minutes, mark just allowed a sweet smile to appear on his lips while he delighted himself with the feeling of being allowed to hold your face once again, to stroke your cheeks and to place small, delicate kisses all over your beautiful face — which he knew would force your breathing to slow down, giving you the chance to calm down again. the canadian was smelling like the combination of weed and beer, but somehow, your body knew how to identify the familiar and characteristic smell of his cologne; the same smell your searched for and ached for during the coldest nights, when missing him was too overwhelming it almost felt like a hole was being digged up in your chest. that familiarity was the reason for the shy smile that took over your lips, that opened a breach for light and happiness after all those tears while mark traced your lips with his thumb, admiring you like you were some kind of artwork created just for him.

“i was made to stay just like this with you, princess. and i’m not leaving this time.”

#— ⟡ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐥𝐞𝐞 ! #— ⟡ 𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐩 ! #— ⟡ 𝐧𝐜𝐭 ! #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #mark lee x you #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee sfw #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct #nct dream drabbles #mark lee drabbles

[maxiskindahere]

Hell is forever | Lute x F!Reader

i’ve become obsessed w Hazbin Hotel recently and well where’s better to write than Tumblr!

I also love x readers and Lute so this is a fun time xx

i also haven’t written in a WHILE so this is not my best work but i promise im better xx

————

CW: swearing, sexual comments

Lute was an interesting person, she wasn’t typically the type of person you’d get in with. But since meeting her & Adam, you are sure that your life has improved… to an extent.

——

“Hey, Y/N! Don’t you think Lute would so much better with less on?” Adam teases as you walk into his office “Adam, you are going to be the first man with no dick if you don’t shut up.” Y/N deadpans, plopping down beside Lute on the couch

“You’re no fun, Y/N” Adam complains, throwing his head back with a groan “I just know that if I agree with you, Lute is very much able to fuck me up.”

You know of the exterminations, and you know Lutes body count. Being on her bad side is not something you wanted.

“Please, Lute’s too busy st-“ Adam is cut off with a yelp as Lute throws something at him “Shut up, Adam.” She hisses, glaring daggers at him “Fine fine” He mutters, flipping her off as you look between them in confusion

“So what happened in Hell?” You decide to ask, knowing the extermination had happened just a week prior. “Well we had a talk with Lucifers bitch daughter today.” Adam begins in a rant about how “Charles” decided to talk about how she wants the exterminations gone and some bullshit hotel

“She seriously thinks sinners can be redeemed?” Y/N questions, leaning forward “What does Sera think about this?” Adam scoffs, rolling his eyes

“she doesn’t know, it’s not like it’s going to cause problems anyways.”

——

Adam was wrong. It was definitely going to cause problems, but that wasn’t her issue. So, she continued on with her day while waiting for the time to come when she’d meet Lute for lunch.

“Sorry!” A voice exclaims as Y/N feels someone crash into her “Fuck!” She yelps out, quickly spinning around to be met with two demons and Emily, the seraphim of joy.

The h/c girl quickly straightens up “Seraphim Emily! What… are you doing here?” She splutters out, glancing nervously at the demons “Oh hush, Y/N. You know you can call me Em when Sera isn’t around” Emily informs the girl with a happy smile.

“Right well.. Em, what is.. going on?” She questions the seraphim, still glancing between the demons “Right! This is Charlie and Vaggie! They’re representatives from Hell!” The girl cheerfully explains

Y/N’s eyes widen “Holy crap! You’re the princess aren’t you?” She asks Charlie, whose face flushes “Yep, that’s me..!” She says awkwardly before taking Vaggies hand in hers “This is my girlfriend, Vaggie” She introduces with a soft smile

Y/N grins “I knew gay people went to he-“ She’s cut off by Emily wacking her lightly “I’m kidding! That’s sick, congrats” She says softly, fluttering her wings

“So, you here about this.. hotel thing?” Y/N questions, crossing her arms together “How do you know about that?” Emily quizzes the girl who pauses for a second “Uh, Lute told me!” She quickly states, rubbing her arm

Emily’s eyes widen “please tell me you two are-“ Before Emily can continue, Y/N spots Lute approaching the four “Respectfully, your majesty please stop” Y/N hisses out as Lute reaches them

“Y/N, where have you been?” Lute asks the girl, anger clear in her voice “Sorry, I ran into these lovely girls and you know how I feel about ditching people” Y/N states innocently, smirking at the anger in Lutes eyes “And you know how I feel about waiting, finish up here and meet me in my office.” Is all the taller girl says before departing

“She seems.. nice.” Charlie says after a few moments of silence “Oh she is, I just don’t think she likes demons” Y/N comments, she knew Emily was unaware of the exterminations and she was not about to admit that she knew to anyone.

“I’m not sure why, you two are lovely” Emily pouts, causing Charlie and Vaggie to give her light smiles “But uh, I better go.. Lute will be a pain if I keep her waiting much longer” She says, excusing herself as she bids farewell to the trio and makes her way to Lute’s office

“Hey..” Y/N says awkwardly, walking into the unlit office before being slammed against the now shut door “I can’t believe you!” Lute exclaims, glaring down at Y/N

“What did I do?” The girl yelps out, feeling the pain rush to her wings “You’re talking with Vaggie! Of all people!” Suddenly everything made sense.

Lute was always fighting for Adam’s favouritism with Vaggie. She was better than Vaggie in every way, but until Vaggies betrayal Adam couldn’t see it.

Since then, the girl had some serious issues with abandonment.

“Oh cmon Lute! You know I don’t care about that failure” Y/N tries to reassure as she feels Lutes heavy breathing hit her face “I only care about you, I promise” Y/N says softly as she notices Lutes eyes soften

“Sorry.” Lute mutters, still holding Y/N against the door “I know a way you can make it up to me” Y/N mumbles, looking down at Lutes lips before glancing back up at her eyes which were wide in surprise before slowly leaning down and capturing the angels lips.

Y/N quickly reciprocates the kiss, wrapping her arms around Lutes neck and pulling her closer, desperate to have the girl closer to her.

But before anymore could be done, Adam suddenly barges in knocking the two away from each other

“The trials starting, come on.”

—

#hazbin hotel x reader #lute x reader #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 27: Found

You try to figure out what you want. Joel and Ellie go on patrol.A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-26 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst. CLEARLY. It's me. Homophobia. Smut-adjacent. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 11.3k (THIS IS GETTING TO BE A PROBLEM I'M SO SORRY)

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Late August, 2027 

“You’re making this hard on purpose,” Ellie’s nose scrunched as she held her guitar. 

You laughed. 

“Promise, Kiddo, I’m not.” 

“Sometimes I really don’t like you, you know,” she grumbled. You snorted. “I’m serious! Swear you make me do shit the hard way because you fucking enjoy watching me struggle…” 

“You learn better when you do it yourself and do it the hard way,” you shrugged, leaning back against a post of your porch. You stretched a leg out onto the step below and picked a little at your guitar. “You’ll never learn if I just give you all the answers.” 

“Yeah yeah,” she muttered, leaning to the side to add more of her disorganized scrawl to her notebook. “Swear you didn’t have to work this hard at shit…” 

“I started a lot younger than you,” you replied, picking up the pace on your guitar and adding slaps and pops, no real rhyme or reason to it, just what your fingers felt like doing. “Everything is easier when you start young. And hey, you’ve got a leg up on any asshole who tries to learn when they’re my age.” 

“Because you’re a dinosaur?” She looked up at you from her notebook, a small smirk on her face. 

“Nah,” you replied. “They’d been dead like three years when I was born, I’m not THAT old.” 

She laughed and went back to her notes as you kept playing, looking out down the path from your yard to the road beyond. 

It was sweltering hot and you’d never been more thankful for a breeze or the fact that it was your day off from the stables. The hair that had pulled loose from your braids stuck to your skin and you’d been sweating all day, waking up with your sheets balled up at the foot of your bed and your tank top damp even with the ceiling fan on. You hadn’t even put on jeans that day, throwing on one of the few dresses that had made their way into your closet in the almost two years you’d been in Jackson. The first you’d taken when Maria mentioned seeing one she thought would fit you, not long before things fell apart with Joel. You’d intended to wear it to the Tipsy Bison on a night there was dancing once it was warmer, opening the door to Joel when you were dressed like what your mother would call “a proper lady.” You’d pictured dancing with him, his hand sliding up the inside of your thigh when you sat down to have a drink until you couldn’t take it anymore and you practically dragged him home, riding him with the skirt bunched up around your waist the second you were in the door. 

That had never happened. That dress stayed tucked safely away at the back of your closet, not able to bring yourself to part with it and the image of that night with him. 

The other dress was perfect for days like today, long and loose and thin cotton that made the oppressive heat of late summer tolerable. Even if Ellie had looked at you like you had two heads when she saw you in the damn thing. 

You didn’t mind, though. You were just glad that you had gotten to the point that you liked spending time with Ellie again. That you’d started feeling much of anything at all. 

The first month you got back was hazy. You didn’t really leave your house at first, not able to contribute much at the stable and not seeing a reason to move otherwise. 

You weren’t entirely sure how many days passed before there was the first knock at your door. 

It wasn’t an Ellie knock. The sound didn’t carry her chaotic energy or almost audacious nature. Instead, it was hesitant but sturdy and firm without being forceful or insistent. You stayed flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling of the closet for a minute to see if the knock would come again. It didn’t. You stared at the ceiling a while longer but, eventually, you had to pee. You forced yourself to move and, on your way back from the bathroom, passed your front door. You hesitated for a moment before you went and opened it, to see if whoever knocked had left a note. 

On your porch was a box filled with crackers and jerky and fruit and carrots and celery. All things you could eat without needing to cook or, really, do anything at all. You knew it was from Joel, even though it hadn’t sounded like his knock, either. There was no one else who would have brought it because no one else knew why you were locked inside your home. But he was no where to be seen. He didn’t leave a note. 

A few days later, you forced yourself to go to the stable to check on the horses. The fillies and the colt weren’t making much progress without you - you’d have to probably start nearly from scratch with them once your arm healed - but you were able to feel somewhat useful, brushing horses down, checking on their hooves to see when they’d need to be shoed, just giving them some love and attention. That helped you feel a little more like yourself. 

Ellie started coming by again a few days after that. She showed up one afternoon with a CD and a sandwich from the mess hall, marching into your living room like nothing had happened, complaining about another kid in town and how Joel wasn’t going to let her patrol with anyone but him for a while. 

“I could get partnered with Dina but no,” she drew the last word out, sprawled on your couch, rolling her eyes as she did. “The old man is convinced I’m going to drop dead if he’s not looking out for me for five minutes…” 

“I’m sure he’ll ease up once he sees how capable you are,” you said, sitting on the loveseat and picking up the CD case she’d brought with her. The Clash this time. “Mick Jones and Joe Strummer, nice choice. Why do you want to go out with Dina, anyway? I thought not everything was about girls…” 

“Shut up.” 

“Nah.” 

You were’t sure if you were really doing better or if you’d just found a way to push the hurt down inside yourself again. You weren’t sure there was a way to recover from this, from the idea that you’d probably never see your child again. Clinging to the possibility felt so necessary but so foolish. You weren’t sure if it was reason or denial but it didn’t really matter. You weren’t sure you could live without that possibility dulling the jagged edges of your grief and pain. 

The boxes of food made regular appearances on your porch. You never saw Joel. 

When you were close to getting your cast off, Ellie came by your house but didn’t shove her way inside the way she usually did. Instead, she hovered on your porch. 

“OK don’t be mad,” she said, a serious look on her face. 

“Off to a great start,” you replied.

She glared at you for a second before pressing on. 

“Joel sent me with a message,” she said. “He wanted me to tell you that the movie tonight was something called Ever After and that he thought you would like it and that he wasn’t going to be there so you should go. And to not be mad. I think you shouldn’t be mad, too, by the way.” 

“Not mad,” you smiled a little. “I just… I don’t know…” 

“Come on, Bambi,” Ellie said, dropping some of her pretense now. “Dina’s going with Jesse and I’ve never seen it and I really don’t want to be stuck sitting by them while they suck face.” 

You sighed, looking back over your shoulder in the direction of Joel’s house. You found yourself looking that way a lot. 

“Alright,” you said after a moment, looking back at Ellie. “I’ll go. But only to save you from your crush…” 

“I’m going to ignore that last part and just be happy you’re going,” she said, a little smug. “Even though you’re annoying about it.” 

“So annoying,” you agreed, stepping into your boots, turning on the lamp and following her out the door. 

It was strangely easy to adjust to being around the people of Jackson again. Ellie gave you something to focus on, busy trying to distract her from the Dina and Jesse acting exactly like you remembered some of your friends in high school acted with their boyfriends. 

“What’s this movie about, anyway?” Ellie asked as the two of you settled in toward the back of the room. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it,” you said. “But I think it was like Cinderella.” 

Ellie looked at you and made a face. 

“Like the fairy tale.” 

“Yup,” you replied. She stared at you and you laughed a little. “What?” 

“I’m just trying to picture you liking a fucking fairy tale.” 

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms as best you could with one in a cast. 

“What?” She teased. “Don’t tell me you like some stupid story where love solves everyone’s problems…” 

“What’s wrong with that?” Julie, the woman you’d seen a few times at the Tipsy Bison and when she went out on patrol, appeared alongside Ellie, a large bowl of popcorn in her hands. 

“It’s bullshit,” Ellie said. “There’s a reason they’re stories for little kids.” 

“Maybe you just haven’t loved that way yet,” she smiled a little before nodding to the chair on the other side of you. “Seat taken?” 

You hoped you didn’t just stare at her for too long. People didn’t just talk to you in Jackson, not without a reason, let alone try to sit by you. You weren’t entirely sure what to do with it.

“All yours,” you said, tugging your legs in close so she could pass you and sit down. She settled in beside you and smiled, holding out the bowl. 

“Thanks,” she said. “Popcorn?” 

“Sure,” you said after a moment, taking some with your good hand. “Thank you.” 

“Course,” she smiled a little bigger in a lopsided, almost cocky way. “What’s the point of popcorn if you don’t share it?” 

The movie was good. You’d only seen it once or twice before the outbreak but you’d liked it then, too. Cinderella was smart and capable, the prince was handsome and kind and you liked to imagine the way life was in that period of time. 

“OK so that wasn’t terrible,” Ellie said as you headed out with her and Julie. 

“Told you,” you teased a little. 

“No one told me that sometimes the girls in fairy tales got to be badasses,” she replied. “I might have liked the stories more then!” 

“The girls are always badasses,” Julie said. “They just try to hide it, scares the men otherwise.” 

Ellie snorted. 

“Sounds right.” 

You reached Joel’s. There was a light on in his living room and you felt the familiar tug in you to go inside and join him. Just let yourself in the front door and settle in like it was yours. 

“I’m gonna go tell the old man that his taste in movies isn’t totally awful,” Ellie said, heading up the front walk. “Still want help tomorrow at the stable?” 

“Stalls ain’t gonna muck themselves,” you replied and held up your still healing arm. “And this isn’t much help.” 

“Ugh,” she groaned good naturedly. “Night!” 

You watched until she made it to the front door - not that the precaution was really necessary here but it made you feel better - and you turned to Julie, your good hand stuffed in your pocket. 

“I’m that way and to the left,” you said. “So…” 

“Mind if I join you?” She asked. “Nice night, figure I’ll take the scenic route.” 

You looked at her for a moment. 

“Sure,” you shrugged. “Not much to see though.” 

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” she smiled one of those lopsided smiles and fell into step beside you, walking a little slower than you and you slowed down to match her pace. You looked ahead. “So, how’ve you been doing? Don’t see you at the Bison much anymore.” 

“Fine,” you shrugged. “Just haven’t felt like going out.” You looked over at her and had the passing thought that she was pretty. Young, with long, dark hair and bright eyes and full lips.“How about you?” 

“Oh you know,” she waved you off. “Same old, same old. The berries are coming into season though, have you been to check out the orchards and stuff?” 

“I’ve ridden past them,” you said. “Haven’t exactly spent time there, though.” 

“You should!” She brightened at that, even more than she already was. The two of you came to a stop at your front walk. “Think you’d like it. You should come with me sometime, it’d be fun.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” you smiled a little tightly. “This is me, so…” 

“Nice place,” she smiled back, looking more genuine than yours felt. “Well, whenever you want to check it out, let me know. Hope to see you around.” 

“You too,” you said, standing there awkwardly for a moment before turning and heading up the walk and into your house. 

You went to the mess hall the next morning for breakfast. Dinner, too. And soon, your cast was off and you were going there for most meals, even if it was just to grab something to bring home or go to the stables. The food boxes stopped showing up on your porch. 

Instead, you’d come back from the stables and find new guitar strings waiting for you there or a CD that you didn’t have or a copy of Titanic on VHS, the one that took two tapes and you had to get up halfway through to change it. 

You’d told Joel he should move on. You weren’t sure if you really wanted him to - you doubted you’d be able to stomach seeing him with someone else - but you didn’t want him to be alone, either. You didn’t want to drag him down with you just because you couldn’t separate his past from your own. 

“OK so I think I have it,” Ellie said, pulling you out of your head and making your fingers still. “Can you look?” 

She shoved the notebook your way and you leaned over your guitar to look at it, fingering the chords but not playing them. 

“Yeah,” you said after a minute. “I think that’s probably closer to what you’re looking for, give it a go.” 

You pushed the notebook back towards her and she set her guitar on her lap, adjusting it for a second before playing it. You nodded along, watching as she scrunched her face, getting more and more frustrated before she groaned. 

“That’s not right either,” she leaned her head back on the post at her back. “Song writing shouldn’t be this hard. This is bullshit.” 

“The shit that’s worth doing is hard, kid,” you shrugged. “Why don’t you try thinking about it again for a minute. Do you want it to feel urgent or slow and confident? Both are strong but they’re going to have different vibes.” 

She sighed and closed her eyes. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Well,” you shrugged, settling back with your guitar. “Figure out how you’re feeling and what you want the song to say about it. It’ll come to you.” 

You went back to playing as Ellie picked her notebook back up, gnawing on the end of her pen. 

“I didn’t know you played!” 

You stopped and your head shot up from its place on the post to see Julie standing at the end of your walk, her hands in the pockets of her shorts, her thick hair piled on top of her head, her arms looking sculpted and strong in her tank top. 

“Sorry,” she laughed. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Can I come up?” 

“Um…” 

“Sure!” Ellie said before you had a chance to really think about it. Julie reached over the short fence and unlatched the gate before opening it and coming up to your porch, sitting on the bottom step so she was looking up at you and Ellie. 

“Didn’t know there was a guitar club in town,” she said, folding one leg into her chest and looping her arms around her shin. “Don’t stop on my account! What song was that?” 

“Oh, that wasn’t anything,” you said, running your fingers up and down the neck of the guitar. “Just… fidgeting, really.” 

“Yeah, Bambi is fucking awesome,” Ellie said. “Best guitar player in town, easy.” 

“Ellie,” you gave her a look but she ignored you. 

“Seriously, you name it and she can probably play it,” she said. “She knows so much about music it’s insane.” 

“Not really,” you cut her off. “I just like music so I learned about what I liked, that’s all…” 

“Oh bullshit,” Ellie rolled her eyes. “She’s a human juke box, try her.” 

“Do you mind?” Julie asked, looking at you with her brows raised. Her eyes were bright green and almost sharp. 

“As long as you’re prepared to be disappointed,” you shrugged. “I can try.” 

Ellie scoffed and Julie ignored her. 

“I remember this song from when I was a kid, just before the outbreak,” she said. “It actually took me a while to track down the name of it after and you might think it’s silly but… I’m With You? Know that one?” 

You smiled a little. 

“I know that one,” you said, settling the guitar on your lap. “Haven’t tried to play it before, though. Avril’s not really my wheelhouse, so… go easy on me.” 

You couldn’t remember exactly how the song started but you remembered the chorus and you remembered a verse from there. The music just trailed off at the end, not really remembering how the song ended either, and you awkwardly drummed your fingers on the body of the guitar when you stopped playing, Ellie and Julie both watching you. 

“Right, well,” you said. “Like I said, not really my wheelhouse and…” 

“That was fantastic!” Julie cut you off, her broad smile making the freckles on her cheeks rise. 

“Told you,” Ellie said. “She’s the best.” 

“Well I figured that much,” Julie rolled her eyes a little dramatically but smiled that cocky smile as she did before looking back to you again. “Thanks for letting me put you on the spot.” 

“Any time,” you said before you really had a chance to think about it. She smiled a little bigger. 

“Hey, so, I hadn’t meant to break up the jam session,” she said. “I was actually coming by to see if you wanted to come with me tomorrow afternoon, I was going to head out to the orchards for a bit. You’re welcome to join, get outside for a bit. It’s nice, promise.” 

“Um,” you said for what felt like the millionth time that day, trying to picture the stable schedule. “I think that would work, I have some patrols leaving that morning but should be able to step away for a bit in the afternoon…” 

“Perfect,” she said, getting up. “I need to get down to the Bison but I’ll meet you at the stables tomorrow?” 

“That’s where I’ll be,” you smiled in a way you hoped was genuine. “Looking forward to it.” 

“It’ll be fun,” she said. “I’ll see you then. Bye, Ellie!” 

“Bye Julie,” she dragged her name out and gave you a look. You seriously considered kicking her. Julie laughed and started down your walk, only making it halfway to the gate before turning around and walking backwards, looking back at you with her hands in her back pockets. 

“Nice dress, by the way,” she said. “It works for you. See you tomorrow!” 

You went back to messing with your guitar as you tried to not watch her walk up the lane. Ellie was far less delicate, craning her neck until Julie turned the corner. 

She spun to face you and swatted your leg. 

“Oh my GOD,” she half whispered, half yelled at you. 

“What?” You asked, fingers stilling on the strings. 

“That!” She said. “All that fucking flirting!” 

“Ellie…” 

“Oh come ON,” she cut you off. “You may as well have fucked right on your porch, Jesus Christ…” 

“OK I will say this again,” you said, setting your guitar down beside you. “Who is and isn’t between my legs? Not your business.” 

“Well that’s just not true,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re the one who fucked Joel and made it my business.” You sighed and went to reply but she held up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather you two work your shit out and get back together. But if you’re not going to figure it out then you shouldn’t just be miserable and lonely forever and Julie is hot as fuck.” 

“Ellie!” You hissed. 

“What!” She replied, her brows raised. “She is!” 

“Jesus…” 

“Just saying!” She said, her hands up in mock surrender. “Julie’s cool. And hot. I think you’d have fun. And you should at least try to have some fun sometimes instead of just being miserable all the time.”

“What if I like being miserable.” 

“Just don’t chicken out,” Ellie said, ignoring you and picking up her guitar before getting to her feet. “But I’m getting hungry. Think I’ll go see what the old man is doing for dinner. You’re welcome to come along if you’d rather not be miserable with us…” 

“Ellie.” 

“Right, right,” she rolled her eyes. “I mean it, fucking go tomorrow. You big chicken.” 

“Go home, you little brat,” you replied. She cheerfully flipped you off before heading back toward Joel’s. 

You sat on your porch for a while longer, absently playing and watching as the color of the sky slowly shifted from blue to pink to deep, inky black. The darkness seemed to swallow everything, like there wasn’t anything beyond what was right in front of you. But you knew that if you walked far enough, followed the light of the north star, you’d find things beyond what consumed here and now. 

It was late when you finally went inside, scrounging in your kitchen for the last of some of what Joel had brought you even though you weren’t particularly hungry. You turned on the stereo and just let whatever CD you’d put in last play, not really paying attention 

You found yourself thinking about Julie. About what Ellie said about Julie. 

It had been a long time since you’d had a woman flirt with you. You’d been with your fair share of women since the outbreak but flirting hadn’t really been part of it. Marisa was the first woman you’d slept with and, after Savvy came along, you stopped seeking out that kind of connection with men and kept it to strictly women. It just seemed safer. After Marisa, it had always been casual - you didn’t think you could bear another heartbreak like that - and it had always been fairly blunt. You could generally tell if they were interested in letting off some physical steam and, if they were, you had fun for a few days before they moved on. 

But things with Julie reminded you of one of your first crushes, a girl who did trick riding on the same circuit as you when you were a girl. You’d first noticed Courtney when you were both 13. She was so beautiful you couldn’t help but stare at her. At first, you’d almost resented her. She was good, damn good, and she was full of charismatic smiles and she dusted glitter across her collarbones that peeked out from the top of her costume. She was exactly who your mother wished you were and, as much as you loved bronc and bull and roping, part of you wanted to be who your mother wanted you to be. You wanted to be satisfied with what she wanted for you and you wanted to be happy being who Courtney was so effortlessly. Life would be simpler and happier if you were content with that and Courtney was proof that life existed. And you wanted it.

You settled for beating her, for a while. Narrowing your eyes at her when you passed her between rounds at competitions, looking her way when you saw your scores narrowly eclipse hers on the board. You loved it. The only thing you wanted more than beating her was her. 

Hell if you knew what to do with that. 

In hindsight, you weren’t sure she knew, either.

The first time she’d said more than two words to you was when you’d smirked at her as you held the first place trophy. You went to the locker room after the awards ceremony and you had the place almost to yourself, most of the other girls already cleaned out. The third place winner - a girl who’s name you didn’t remember - left and it was just a few seconds later that you heard the door slam into the wall. You looked up to see Courtney stalking over to you. You could see the glitter on her collarbones and her cheeks, her eyes hot and her lips full. 

“Want to tell me what the hell your problem is?” She demanded, getting so close to you that you could smell her body spray. It was almost sickly sweet and floral but on her it smelled good. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much!” 

“I don’t hate you…” you said. 

“Could’ve fooled me!” She cut you off. 

“Why do you care?” You snapped. “We compete, we’re not friends, who cares if I hate you?” 

“I care!” She snapped back. 

“Why!” 

“Because I like you!” She yelled, breathless. You just blinked at her for a moment as she caught her breath, her eyes drifting to your lips. “I like you and sometimes…” 

She didn’t get a chance to finish. Instead, you kissed her. 

It was clumsy and deeply uncertain. You’d never kissed anyone before and you had no idea what you were doing, your hands locked tight at your sides as though touching her anywhere at all was against the rules but you were risking it, anyway. Her mouth was warm and soft and it seemed oddly wet even though that made sense when you thought about it. 

After a moment you pulled back from her slightly, your eyes wide, not really believing what you’d just done. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, your turn to be breathless now. “I… I don’t know…” 

“Shut up,” she kissed you that time, pressing you back against the lockers, stretching up to better reach your lips, her body hot on your own. You kissed her back, trying to focus and take in everything. How she tasted, how she smelled, how her costume hugged the slight curve of her waist. 

“Courtney!” Her mother’s shrill voice from the hall made her jump away from you and wipe her mouth on the back of her hand. “You about ready honey?” 

“One minute!” She called back before turning to you. “Do you have a some paper?” 

You just nodded and fumbled in your bag for a notebook. She turned to a random page that happened to have some history notes on it and wrote her name and number at the top. Her handwriting was soft and curved and feminine and you envied that, too. She drew a little heart next to it. 

“Call me,” she said, pressing the notebook into your chest. “OK?” 

“Yeah,” you said, staring at her. You couldn’t help but stare at her. “Yeah, I will.” 

“Good,” she smiled. “See you next time, superstar. Maybe I’ll finish on top then.” 

“Courtney!” 

“Coming!” She grabbed her bag out of a nearby locker and gave you an almost sly smile before she ran out to meet her mother. 

From then on, most of your time with her was flirting. In between rounds at competitions or on the phone when you were far apart, carefully crafting your words so you’d have plausible deniability with your parents but know what the other meant. You wrote each other letters when you were apart, counted the days until you got to see each other again. When you found an empty spot when you were in the same place, you ended up tangled up together, kissing and fumbling against each other, figuring out what seemed to stoke the fires deep inside yourselves in the small moments you could find for just the two of you. 

That continued for just over a year when Courtney came to a tournament with a somber expression on her face. You frowned but she gave you a subtle shake of her head as she passed you and you kept quiet. It took a few hours before you were able to get her alone and she told you the truth of it. That her mom had found your letters to her - thankfully not signed so she had no idea who had written them but still obviously from another girl - and had told her daughter that she, unequivocally, would end it. 

“But…” you protested, trying not to cry. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick. “But… she threatened to send me to one of those camps if I don’t and… I can’t go to that, OK? I can’t, I don’t think I could make it and…” 

You held onto her as she cried, her tears making little rivers in the glitter on her skin. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I really… I think I…” 

You kissed her before she said it. 

“Me too,” you said quietly when you pulled away. 

She sniffed and smiled a small smile.

“Maybe in another life, right?” 

“Right,” you smiled a little back. 

She dried her eyes as best she could and you watched from the stands as she gave the best performance you’d ever seen. You did the opposite. Your routine ended with a full Stroud Layout but your top foot slipped when you were getting into position and you fell off your horse, tumbling over and over yourself in the sand of the arena, the feel of it gritty in your mouth as your head spun when your body finally came to a stop. 

You didn’t make the podium and your mother didn’t push you to compete again for a while. You never saw Courtney again. 

You weren’t sure how to navigate things with Julie. You weren’t sure what you wanted to navigate with Julie. She was beautiful, yes. And she seemed kind and funny and smart. She seemed like someone you could have fun with and could care about. 

But she wasn’t Joel. You weren’t sure you could feel like you felt for him for anyone else. It seemed silly to even try. And if you couldn’t feel like that, what was the point? 

You tried to sleep but gave up eventually. After a while, you found the moose carving you’d started when you were out with Joel, looking for Savvy. It was getting closer to being done, though it was still a rough hewn thing. You weren’t sure anyone who didn’t know what it was supposed to be would realize what it was without help. But still, it felt good to make something. You let yourself be absorbed by carving it for a bit, until it felt like you’d shut your mind down enough to sleep. You set the moose down on the nightstand, arranging him so it was like he was watching you sleep, the red splotch from your blood still staining his chest.

You brought him with you to the stables the next day for something to work on when you needed the distraction. Just sitting there with your thoughts when you had downtime seemed like a bad idea. 

“You’re gonna tell me all about it, right?” Ellie asked as you gave Shimmer and Ares a final once over that morning. 

“I don’t need to tell you every time I hang out with someone,” you replied. 

“Whatever,” she said. “Just don’t chicken out. Actually go, you need a social life…” 

“What, getting sick of keeping me company all the time?” You teased, handing her the reins. 

“Yeah, you’re pretty fucking boring,” she smirked a little. You snorted. “I’m serious though. Promise you’ll go.” 

“I’m going,” you said, giving her a gentle shove toward the door. “Get out of here. Be safe on patrol, see you back tonight.” 

“Not if you’re at Julie’s you won’t,” she waggled her eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes as you watched her lead her and Joel’s horses out of the stables. 

Time dragged until that afternoon and you found yourself feeling oddly nervous, waiting for Julie to come by. You weren’t sure what time she was supposed to get there and, you realized, you didn’t know what to actually expect with any of this. 

Yeah, it had felt like flirting. And Ellie seemed sure that it was. But Ellie was a kid and your recent experience in that department was so limited you really knew fuck all about it. What if you’d read the situation completely wrong? What if Julie was just a nice woman who wanted to be friends? 

“Hey you,” Julie’s voice surprised you enough that it made you jump, water sloshing over the side of the bucket you were carrying to top off one of the horses. “Shit, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you…” 

“You’re fine,” you said quickly, refilling a waterer and setting the bucket down. 

“Now still good?” She asked. “Because I’m not in a rush, today is my day off…” 

“Now’s good,” you said quickly, trying not to think too hard about what she was wearing. Her long, lush hair was softly braided and hung over her shoulder, loose strands framing her face. Her shorts were short and her legs were long and sculpted and she wore a few long necklaces that settled into the curve between her breasts. She smiled. 

“Great!” She held up a bag you hadn’t noticed before. “Brought snacks. Not that we’ll need much, it’s peak berry season out there. We could eat ourselves sick and not make a dent.” 

“Don’t tempt me,” you smiled a little. 

“Oh, I intend to,” she smiled back. 

Julie led the way out of town, smiling and chatting with the guards at the gate for a moment before heading toward the orchards just east of town. 

“So why are you heading out here on your day off?” You asked, looking over at her. 

“Well as I think you know, one of my main contributions to the good people of Jackson is tending bar at the Bison,” she smiled. “But that’s because I just really like drinks. I found this old cocktail book when I was a teenager and I just kind of became obsessed, I guess? There was that and these books and magazines that showed what it was like before and I wanted to do that. Have the experience of going to a bar when life was different, you know? And yeah, we make some pretty decent booze here in town - or I think we do, anyway, didn’t really get to try any before - but that’s not all it takes to make a good cocktail. I can’t make a Coke or anything but I can make the syrups and infusions and things. I like to experiment in my spare time so I come out here, pick the supplies I need, and give things a try at home before I bring my ideas into the Bison.” 

“Do I get to know what you’re working on?” You asked, brows raised. 

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she smirked. “But I will need a guinea pig before too long if you’re game…” 

“Far be it from me to turn down a free drink,” you replied and she smiled bigger. 

The orchards were, indeed, beautiful. You followed her to a particularly dense spot and she pulled a blanket out of the bag, spreading it on the ground in the shade of an apple tree. 

“I won’t lie,” she said, sitting back on her hands and closing her eyes, taking a deep breath. “This is probably my favorite spot.” 

“I can see why,” you nodded, drawing your knees into your chest and looking around. “It’s gorgeous here.” 

“It’s quiet here,” she laughed a little. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Jackson. Way better than the QZ we were in when I was a kid. It’s a good place with good people. I love the people, truly, I do. But everyone knows everyone and knows everything about everyone and it’s so hard to have anything for yourself, you know?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s a great place but… it’s definitely a lot.” 

You talked a little about your pasts. You told her - vaguely, lightly - about your time before Mitchum. She told you about her time in the Denver QZ and you almost fainted when she said she was only 31 years old. 

“How old were you when the world ended?” You gaped at her. “Do you even remember?” 

“I was seven,” she laughed. “I remember a bit. How old were you?” 

“Older than that,” you replied. “Jesus…” 

“Not that old, clearly,” she said, picking a blackberry off a bush and holding it out to you. “This is a good one, you should have it.” 

“Old enough,” you replied. “And if it’s good, you should have it.” 

“I have them all the time,” she said, stepping close to you. You were suddenly acutely aware of the fact that you were wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing when working with the horses all day and you hoped you didn’t smell. She pressed the berry to your lips. “Try it.” 

You obeyed, taking the fruit into your mouth and biting into it, the juice bursting on your tongue. 

“See?” She smiled. “Told you.” 

The two of you ended up back on the blanket and you stretched out on it, looking up at the clouds drifting lazily past overhead, arms bare - too hot to wear anything more than a tank top - but not feeling overly exposed. Julie lay next to you, her arm brushing your own. 

“Is it weird that I sometimes don’t feel like I missed out?” She asked. You felt her adjust next to you and you glanced her way to see her lying on her side, facing you. “I mean I know there was a lot before that we don’t have now but… I dunno, I guess I still wanted to be a ballerina when the world ended. It doesn’t feel like I really gave up all that much, you know?” 

“Think that has as much to do with Jackson as anything else,” you replied, adjusting so that you were facing her. “But I get that, in a way. If I’d found Jackson when I was younger, I think I’d feel the same. Shit, what I’m doing now is exactly what I grew up wanting to do. If it wasn’t for all the time in between, the end of the world would have just turned into me getting just what I wanted. Besides all the death anyway.” 

“Think you’re right about the Jackson thing,” she smiled a little. “It’s a special place with good people. Like a few better than the others, though.” 

“Yeah?” 

She reached out and brushed some of the hair that had fallen from your braid back from your face and trailed her fingers down your cheek and your chin. 

“Yup.” 

She leaned in then, moving slow and holding your gaze, giving you all the time in the world to stop her if you wanted. 

You didn’t. 

Her kiss was soft and gentle, her lips smooth on yours. She tasted and smelled sweet and her hand went to your hip, tugging you against her. 

Julie’s body was softer than you expected as she pressed against you and, in so many ways, she felt safe and comfortable there. But she felt foreign, too. You’d become accustomed to a different form on yours, one that was larger and broader and firmer. 

You tried not to think about him as her kiss deepened, as your hand went to her waist and trailed over her side but stopped short of cupping her breast. 

She nudged you onto your back and she settled on top of you, her chest pressed tight to yours, her hips starting to rock gently against you. You ran your hands over her back to the top of her ass but didn’t go lower, not able to shake the subtle wrongness of kissing someone and feeling someone who wasn’t Joel. 

After a minute, she pulled away from you. 

“I get the feeling you’re not as into this as I am,” she said, panting a little. You opened your mouth to argue but she silenced you with a look. “If I misread things, I’m really sorry. But you should know that you don’t have to fuck me just because I’m trying to fuck you.” 

“You didn’t misread anything,” you said quickly. 

“Good,” she smiled a little. “But… It doesn’t seem like you’re feeling this.” 

You winced. 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling,” you said. “But… I don’t think I’m feeling what you are.” 

“Well shit,” she laughed a little and rolled off you, lying flat on her back beside you. “I really am sorry if I came on too strong or did something you didn’t want…” 

You laughed a little. 

“Definitely not that,” you said. “Just have… other things on my mind. And you deserve someone’s full attention.”

She turned her head to look at you and you turned yours, too. 

“It’s Joel, isn’t it?” She asked. You winced a little. “Sorry, I’m not trying to dig into anything that’s not my business, it just… seemed like you guys split up a while ago so I thought it would be OK. I’m sorry.” 

“No, it probably should be,” you said. “It’s got nothing to do with you, trust me.” 

“Well,” she said. “At the risk of this being the most awkward hang out ever… want to help me get some raspberries?” 

“Sure,” you laughed a little. “I’d like that.” 

She smiled. 

“Good. Me too.” 

It was awkward for a bit, but by the time the two of you started back to Jackson, it was lighter. Easier. Like you’d never kissed at all. 

Julie walked with you back to the stables, not too long before you were expecting patrols that weren’t out overnight to return. 

“Even with everything today, I hope we can be friends,” she said. “I do actually like you. Not just because I’d like to fuck you.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Yeah, I’d like that, too,” you said. “I’m sorry I’m not… in the same place on the fucking front…” 

“I’d rather pretend we never found that out,” she laughed a little. “Maintain some of the mystery. But, you know. If anything changes, it’s a small town. You know where to find me.” 

“That I do,” you said. 

She turned to leave but seemed to think better of it and turned back. 

“If he’s it for you?” She said. “I think you should figure out a way to make it work. No point in wanting something and acting like you can’t have it when it’s right there, you know? And yeah, it’s not really my business and yeah, I don’t know you all that well but… something tells me you’re not going to be feeling any different anytime soon. And I don’t think he is either. Just… my two cents.” 

She smiled and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Thanks, Julie,” you said quietly. She gave your arm a squeeze. 

“See you around, Bambi.” 

You watched the door she left through for a few minutes after she was gone before you went back to work. 

The patrols all made it back without incident, Ellie returning her and Joel’s horses. She asked how things went but you just waved her off and she deflated a bit. 

“I keep trying to get some excitement around here,” she said. “You are no fucking help, you know that?” 

“I am so sorry my romantic life isn’t more entertaining,” you said wryly. “I’ll work on that. Entirely for your benefit, of course.” 

“Well you’re clearly not going to do it for your own.” 

You just rolled your eyes as she headed back home. You stayed late at the stables. Not for any real reason, you just didn’t want to be at home alone and going to the mess hall didn’t sound like what you wanted, either. You worked on the moose carving, pleasantly surprised at the progress you’d made on him. 

You ended up working on him until, almost suddenly, you realized he was done. Fully formed - or as close to it as you could get him - with four legs and jagged shapes for the antlers. But he looked like a moose, broad and steady and strong. You turned him over in your hand a few times, running your finger over the arch of his back and the curve of his neck. 

“What am I going to do with you?” You said quietly, holding it up in front of you, looking where his eyes would be if he had them. The bloodstain was still crimson on his chest. 

After a few minutes, you got up off the floor of the stable and did your final check for the evening before locking up behind you and heading home. 

You took the long way. 

It was dark but not so late that the Tipsy Bison had closed for the night, a warm glow coming from the windows. With the sun down, you were a little cold with bare arms but you didn’t mind. You walked slowly, watching the stars as you went. 

You stopped at the end of Joel’s walk. The lights were out. You thought he probably went to bed early - he got tired after a patrol - but he could be at the Bison, too. Either way… 

You all but crept up his walk, holding the moose tightly in your fingers. You stopped at the base of his stairs and held the rough-hewn animal in front of your face again. 

“Keep an eye on him for me?” You said quietly to the wood. It didn’t say anything back. You stepped as lightly as you could up the stairs but the same step as always squeaked below you. You set the moose on Joel’s doormat before turning to go, making the step squeak again. You made it almost all the way back up the walk when the lights inside turned on and you picked up the pace. 

It didn’t matter. You heard the front door open just as you turned onto the street and your eyes darted over toward him before you could help it. 

“Bambi?” He called, not too loud. He was in his blue cotton plaid sleep pants and a black t-shirt that hugged his body just right, tight across his shoulders and upper arms, highlighting the soft curve of his stomach. You stopped for a moment and just gave him a tight smile before continuing on home. 

When you went to bed, you found yourself looking at the spot on your nightstand where the moose had been before, part of you wishing he was still beside you.

***

“Hey. Hey Joel.” 

Joel smiled a little to himself. He recognized Ellie’s tone. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” 

“Wanna hear a joke about pizza?” 

He sighed, trying to sound annoyed. He wasn’t sure if it worked. 

“Get the feeling you’re gonna tell me either way.” 

“Eh, never mind,” Ellie said, sounding a little put out. Joel looked back at her, frowning slightly. And then she smirked. “It’s too cheesy.” 

Joel groaned. 

“That one’s bad, baby girl.” 

“No it’s not!” She rode up alongside him even though the trail wasn’t really wide enough for that. “That was a good one!” 

“Nope,” he shook his head. “It was terrible, three out of 10.” 

“Bullshit!” 

“What would you give it?” He asked, brows raised. “Because I’m questioning your judgement here…” 

“At least a six.” 

“No.” 

“Yes!” She laughed. “You’ve just got shitty taste, old man.” 

“Uh huh,” he laughed. “And what’s that say about you then, hm?” 

“Broken clock is right twice a day,” she replied. “You were bound to accidentally do OK every now and then. Will Livingston, however, is right every time.” 

“You got that entire book memorized?” He teased lightly. “If not, you gotta be close…” 

“I’m getting there,” she said. “Saving the best for last.” 

Joel just shook his head a little. 

He loved patrolling with Ellie. Even more than he thought he would. It was so much like when he’d first come to know her and care for her. It was a time, he realized now, that made him understand that he could still love. That he had it within himself to care for another person, that he could cope with the fear of loss that came with attachment because Ellie was worth it. He liked spending the time just the two of them and getting to know her better as the young woman she was becoming instead of the little girl he’d come to know years earlier. She’d grown so much, come into her own in a way that was only possible in a place like Jackson. She had friends and hobbies and had become part of the community there. Every day with her was reassurance that he’d done the right thing. That every life he’d taken that day in the hospital was a worthy price to pay. 

Joel had left Jackson with Ellie plenty before patrolling with her, back when she was still speaking to him. Before she found out the truth of everything. He’d loved it then, too. But this was different. She was still his baby girl but they were out here as partners, working together to protect the community they both loved. It was a glimpse of the future they had, one where their lives moved along side by side and he got to watch her find her place and fall in love and have a family of her own and just be happy as herself. 

They were only a day out from Jackson now, heading in from a three day long patrol. It was Ellie’s first overnight patrol and she’d been so excited for it, even as she tried to pretend like she wasn’t. The days before they left town, Ellie was over at his house every night, going over the list of what she should bring and looking over the map. She’d lit up when he said they could bring a guitar, something else that made Joel smile. 

It had been more than a month since she’d gotten him back into playing, showing up at his house with a guitar and saying she wanted his opinion on something. She played American Girl, one of his favorites, and set the guitar down when she was done. 

“That was amazing, baby girl,” he’d said, more than a little in awe of her. “Where did you learn that?” 

“Bambi,” she replied. “But do you think it’d sound better with two? I feel like it would. But you’re the musician so…” 

It was an obvious ploy but it made him smile a little. The idea that Ellie would do that much to make him play again. That you’d help her. 

“It might,” he said, getting up to get his instrument. “Let’s give it a try.” 

Joel tried to not think of you too much. He usually failed. But he was getting better at not drowning in the memories of you, of not letting the loss of you consume him. 

It helped that he’d found a way to care for you while respecting the distance you wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to just abandon you, not when he had a sense of how much you were hurting. So he brought you food. Selfishly, it served two purposes. It meant you were, hopefully, eating something. But it also meant he knew that you were still alive. That he could leave a box on your porch, walk by a few hours later, and see that it was gone. He could check on you without forcing you to talk to him and that eased the steady drumbeat of worry inside him. 

When he heard you were back at the stables, he shifted from things you needed to things you would want. He brought you the things he found that made him think of you, things he’d have given you when he came home to you in another life. 

It also helped that he knew you thought of him, too. At least occasionally, enough that you’d left the carving you’d made on his porch a few weeks before. He thought he was hearing things when the first squeak woke him up from his place on the couch, but then the step squeaked a second time and he was sure he heard it. He’d thought it might be Ellie, needing something but  not necessarily wanting to say it. He hadn’t expected to see you heading down the street, the first glimpse of you he’d had in so long. Your arm was out of the cast and you looked good. A bit thinner than you’d been the last time he’d seen you but still good. Still beautiful, still soft with sharp edges. Still what he wanted to sink into and wrap himself up in every chance he got. He picked the moose up and brought it inside, tracing the outline of its frame for a moment. You’d finished it. It was rough, you were clearly a beginner, but you’d finished it and given it to him. His thumb brushed the wound on its heart, where you’d bled. Before he really thought better of it, he brought the figure to his lips and kissed it gently before setting it on the side table and turning out the lights. 

The two of you were set to leave Jackson again in just a week, another gap in the patrol schedule that you could leverage to search for Savvy now that you were healed. He hoped this search led somewhere. He couldn’t imagine what it was like, living like that, not knowing what happened to your child. The closest he’d come was the torturous time that Ellie was with the monsters who’d taken her in Silver Lake. He was so frantic, so terrified of what he’d find but even more terrified of never finding it to begin with. He needed to save her, protect her. But if he couldn’t do that, he needed to know what happened to her. He needed to know who to destroy before he destroyed himself for letting it happen. Living in that for years would be unbearable. 

“Hey Joel?” 

He could hear the frown in her voice. 

“Yeah Baby Girl?” He looked over his shoulder, Ellie and Shimmer falling behind him again now that the trail had narrowed further. She stopped and so did he.

“That’s something we should be watching for, right?” She nodded toward something off the trail, a small frown on her face. Joel followed where she was looking and he froze in his saddle. 

It took an eagle eye to spot it, just brush amongst brush, but it shocked him when he saw it. The gentle arch of a sapling, stretching down toward the ground, held there with rope. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It is. Stay with the horses.” 

“But…” 

“Just one second,” he said, dismounting and going for the trap, trying desperately not to get his hopes up but his heart was racing. It was a common set up for a trap. It could be anyone’s.

This trap was far fresher than the one he’d found with you, the dirt where the pin and been put in the ground still disturbed. The trap itself was still baited and the pins were smooth, almost artistically carved. It hadn’t been here long. He looked around quickly, looking for some indication of where the person who set this trap might have gone. It took some doing - whoever it was covered their tracks well - but he found it, the edge of a boot print. 

He went back to his horse and mounted up. 

“Ellie,” he said, voice serious. “Need you to listen to me, OK?” 

“OK,” she frowned. “Joel, you’re acting weird…” 

“We’re gonna track someone,” he said. “But when we find them, need you to not shoot them until we talk to them, OK? And… and if its a teenaged girl, need you to not shoot them even if she pulls a gun on me, OK?” 

“A teenaged… Joel, what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Just trust me,” he said. “Please.” 

He started with the boot print and found little hints of someone moving through the brush from there. Disturbed leaves, a splotch of dirt that looked misplaced, a small branch that had snagged on another when something about human height passed below it. 

“Joel,” Ellie said after they’d been tracking for about 20 minutes. 

“Still looking,” he said gently. “It’s OK…” 

He heard something rustle down low up ahead and he adjusted Ares’ path to check on it. He didn’t need to go far, the source of the sound only about 100 feet away and next to a large rock. Standing there, beside to a large horse and a large dog, was a girl. She was a little taller than Ellie, with gangly arms and legs, a rifle held high in her hands. 

“Stop right there!” She said, her voice sharp with a familiar southern twang. The dog moved in front of her, getting down low and bearing its teeth. “Don’t wanna shoot you but I will. You can move right along, this spot’s taken.” 

Joel lifted his hands and caught a glimpse of Ellie raising a gun next to him. 

“Ellie!” He said sharply. She looked at him, eyes wide. “Gun down. Now.” 

“But…” 

“Now.” 

She huffed but lowered the gun slowly, her eyes back on the girl in front of her. 

“Won’t shoot you in the back,” the girl said. “Just turn around and go.” 

Joel fought to focus. The girl in front of him… she looked like Sarah, so so much like Sarah. The same shock of curly hair, same brown skin, same bright eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d think they were sisters. He fought to stay here, in the forest with Ellie, not getting swallowed by his own memories. He’d found her. He was all but certain of that now, he’d found her and he was going to bring her back to you. 

“You out here on your own?” He asked gently, his hands said up. 

“Don’t see how that’s any business of yours,” she said sharply. “All that matters to you is that I will kill you, don’t try me.” 

“I understand,” he said. “Not going to hurt you…” 

“Bullshit.” 

“We’re not,” Ellie snapped. 

“Ellie.” 

“What!” She said. “Joel, I swear, if she shoots you…” 

“Remember what I said,” he replied. 

“But…” 

“I mean it,” he cut her off. “Don’t, OK?” 

He turned back to the girl. 

“Not going to hurt you,” he said again. “Just… just hear me out for just a second, OK? We’re from a settlement, about a day’s ride from here…” 

“Good for you,” she said. “Better head that way then.” 

“It’s a good place,” he said, ignoring her. “With good people. Including… including your mama, I think.” 

Her eyes went a little wide and she lowered the gun ever so slightly. He caught a glimpse of Ellie’s head whipping around to look at him but he kept his eyes on the girl. 

“Your name’s Savannah, right?” He pressed on. “Your mom, she calls you Savvy, right?” 

She raised the gun again. 

“How’d you know that,” snapped. “You one of the assholes that took her? That it? What, you kill her? Get her to tell you about me first? That what happened?” 

“No honey,” Joel said, his throat tight. He’d found her, he’d found your daughter. “No, she… she escaped them, few years back. She got hurt real bad doin’ it, we brought her in, got her fixed up and she stayed. She’s been looking for you but she’s still there…” 

“Why should I trust you?” She snapped. “Why should I believe a damn thing you say?” 

“Because I know her,” he said. “Been helping her look for you. She’s… I know her. She trains horses, guessin’ she trained the one you’ve got? She trained the one I’m on, too. She runs our stable for us, she…” 

“Bambi?” Ellie gaped at him. “Bambi’s her mom? Bambi has…” 

“Ellie,” Joel said again, cutting her off and looking back at Savvy. 

“She’s there,” he said. “She misses you, she misses you so much. Told me how you liked to read to the horses when you were little. How the dogs liked you better than her. How you’re real good at carving… Recognized your trap, found another one of yours a few months back. She told me how your pins are always smooth and even… Let us take you back with us. Won’t take your guns, just… just come back with us. Please. She misses you so much, she’s been so worried…” 

“We’re not people to be afraid of,” Ellie said and Joel glanced her way. She was looking at Savvy now, her face serious. “Well, as long as you’re not an asshole. I know Joel seems scary but he’s not. Promise. He’s safe.” 

She lowered the gun slowly, looking between the two of them before looking down at the dog. 

“Gattling,” she said. “Heel.” 

The dog dropped its defensive stance and went alongside her, looking up and waiting for a command. She looked back at Joel and Ellie. 

“You really know my mom?” She asked quietly. “She’s… she’s really alive?” 

“She is,” Joel nodded, lowering his hands to the saddle horn. There was a knot in his throat. “And we can take you to her. Please.” 

She hesitated for a moment. 

“She teaches me stuff about music,” Ellie said quickly. “How to play some stuff on guitar, too, but more about music in general. She’s cool. Really. I’m… I’m sure she wants to see you again. And Jackson’s nice. And so are we. Just come along, OK?” 

She took a deep breath, looking down at the dog for a moment, adjusting her grip on the rifle. 

“OK.” 

***

“She’s in rare fucking form this week,” Olivia said, watching as you steadied Persephone, one of the fillies you were working with. 

“She’s just got an independent streak,” you said, the horse’s feet stomping impatiently in the dirt. “That’s OK. I get that. So do the best of us, right?” 

She huffed and jerked her large head. You smiled a little. 

“You’re sure she’s not gonna throw you?” Olivia asked, sounding a little worried. 

“No,” you shrugged. “But I’ve gotten thrown off horses before, nothin’ new. Only way to break her is to break her, no point in stalling. You in a good spot?” 

“Think so,” she said, stepping a little further back from the horse as you got ready to mount her. 

“Then let’s go,” you said, all but jumping onto Persephone’s back. You barely got your foot in the stirrups before she started really bucking, Olivia moving even further away. You clutched the reins in one hand and let your hips go loose, digging your heels down toward the earth to stay seated. You let your body move with her as she hurled herself through the air, desperate to dislodge you. But you weren’t going anywhere. She gave you a good shake that made you grab the back of the saddle but otherwise, she didn’t get anywhere close to throwing you. After a while, she started to calm, her movements still sharp and harsh but closer to the earth, her hooves staying on the ground more often than not. Eventually, she mostly stilled, just tossing her head and huffing indignantly. 

“See?” You said soothingly, reaching forward to pat her neck. “That’s my good girl, you did so well…” 

“Bambi,” Olivia said, catching your eye. She nodded toward the gate to the paddock and you frowned a little before you followed her gaze. 

Standing there was Joel and Ellie, their reins in their hands. But between them was a girl. She was young, a teenager, with springy curls and brown skin and wide, soft eyes. 

You knew those eyes. You knew those eyes and that hair and that skin. For a moment, the world shrank to a small point centered on her and you wondered if, maybe, you’d finally lost your mind. If something had finally broken so thoroughly that you were seeing things. 

But you weren’t. She was here. Your daughter was alive and she was here, in Jackson. 

“Savvy,” you breathed and Persephone bucked below you. You weren’t paying attention to the horse and you flew off her back and into the dirt, landing with a brain rattling thud. You didn’t care. 

You scrambled to your feet, throwing a glance back at Olivia to make sure she had Persephone so Savvy wouldn’t get hurt, and ran for her. 

“Mom,” she said, her voice thick as you reached her and pulled her into yourself. You clutched her to your chest until you thought you could feel her heartbeat alongside yours, clinging to her too close to even kiss her or look at her but you needed to feel the life in her first, soak up the vitality of her before someone took it away. 

“You’re alive,” you managed, voice thick. You buried your nose and mouth in her hair, breathing her in. “You’re alive, you’re here, you’re OK, you’re…” 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said wetly and you pulled back from her just enough to look at her. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she sniffed as you took her face in your hands. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, I thought you were gone, I…” 

“I’m so sorry baby,” you kissed her forehead before pulling her against you again and clinging to her. “I’m so sorry I let you go, I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” 

“It’s OK Mom,” she said, her hands holding your elbows. “I’m OK, it’s OK, I promise…” 

You just held on to her, trying to memorize everything about her that you could. That she was taller now, that her shape had changed, that it seemed like she hadn’t had a chance to really grow into her limbs yet. 

You looked up at Joel who was still there, his eyes wet, watching you hold your daughter. 

“You found her,” you said softly. 

He just nodded. 

“Found her,” he said. “Couldn’t have without you, though. With everything you told me about her, was able to find her.”

You just nodded, running your hand down the back of her head as you held her. 

“Thank you, Joel,” you whispered, holding her so tight that you were worried you might hurt her but too afraid that she’d slip away to stop. “Thank you.”  

Next Chapter

A/N: AHHHH SAVVY'S HERE!!!!

And Joel found her. I'm so happy that Bambi has her baby back, for real. Things are getting there. I promise.

Thanks so much for reading and sticking with this story! Don't forget that you can get updates on my updates blog here.

Love you!!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123@ashleyfilm

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc

[wosowrites]

Chaos Incoming (Kristie Mewis x Reader)

warnings: none

a/n: based off this request:

prompt: in which sam kerr introduces you to her friend kristie, and you two start dating

Sam and Kristie had known each other forever. They were great friends, and although having once tried a romantic relationship, it hadn’t worked as they thought of each other more as friends. Kristie would often travel to London when she could to see Sam, and today was one of those days.

The australian had gotten the blonde american tickets to the Arsenal v Chelsea London derby. In all honesty, Kristie was very excited. Not only to see Sam, but also because she may or may not have had her eye on a certain English woman. The Arsenal captain.

"You like y/n y/l/n?" Sam groaned, leaning over the barrier of Kingsmeadow. Chelsea was warming up on the left side, and Arsenal on the right. "Not like! I just think she’s pretty. And she’s also really good." Kristie said, her eyes drifting to you. You were talking with Leah, your hands on your hips and watching her, nodding. "Pretty sure she has a thing with Williamson anyways." Kristie signed. "Williamson? Hell no. Leah and Jordan Nobbs have a thing. If you want I can ask her to come see you at the end of the game. If she doesn’t piss me off too bad." Sam said. "Ha ha. Very funny. And do not do that. It’s embarrassing!" Kristie said. "Get back to your team. Good luck." Kristie said, hugging the australian gently.

The game was hot headed, Katie Mccabe got a yellow and so did you. Somehow, Jessie Fleming got booked too which causes giggles across the stadium, the poor girl looked mortified and apologized to Leah for her foul profusely.

Min the end, it was an annoying score of 3-3. Both teams were pissed by the score, but happy not to have lost.

You went around, thanking the arsenal fans that were there, and as you walked, you saw a blonde girl in the stands. She looked very familiar.

"Hey, you’re Kristie Mewis, right?" You said, going up to the girl.

She looked a little surprised, and for a second you thought you had gotten it wrong. "Yeah! It’s nice to meet you." Kristie said, shaking your hand. "You too. You know Kerr right, saw you guys talking before the game." You told her. "Yeah, we’re good friends. Surprised you noticed." Kristie said, smiling. "Your hard not too notice, Mewis. I mean you’re wearing a USA jersey to a WSL game in england." You laughed. "Urgh I was hoping no one would notice that. It was the only blue jersey I had with me." She laughed. "Ahhh, Chelsea fan," you jokingly pouted. "Nuh uh, Sam Kerr fan," she answered.

"Well let me help you not stick out." You said.

You pulled your jersey over your head and tossed it to her. "I think red looks better on you anyways." You winked.

She looked a little shocked, but you just smiled and jogged off, waving at a few fans and then going into the tunnel. "Kerr!" you called, making the australian woman turn around. "Yeah? Good game." she said, shaking your hand. "You too. Good goal sadly," you joked. "Back at you. Anyways, what’s up?" she asked you.

"I don’t even know why i’m asking this but… Mewis… would you give me your… i don’t know- blessing? Or is that like out of the question?" you asked, smiling cheekily. Sam looked like she thought about it, but eventually nodded. "You better be nice to her or I swear the next time we play each other…" Sam threatened. "Yeah yeah, broken ankles, studs up tackles, jersey grabbing. Thanks, Kerr. Later."

You walked off, tapping her on the back and heading to your locker room.

"Y/n! Where is your shirt?" Katie groaned. You were in your nike sports bra and captains armband, it looked a little stupid. "Gave it away." you shrugged. "I swear half of the time you don’t have a shirt on." Manu said to you. "Don’t act like I don’t look good," you teasingly winked.

In the team bus, you pulled out your phone and went to Kristies instagram. You followed the account and then pressed message.

Hey! Hope you like the jersey, how long you in London for? I know a good place…

You sent the message and then heard laughter around the bus. "Jesus!" you yelled, turning around to see almost all the girls looking over your shoulder. "Cap’s sliding into Mewis’ dm’s. Who knew she could flirt other than for laughs?" Rafa said. "I hate you all," you groaned. "She’ll say no anyways," you added, slouching down in your seat. "Not after she’s seen your abs!" Leah said, poking your stomach and making you jump. "WILLIAMSON!"

You received Kristie’s answer only twenty minutes later.

Leaving tonight :(

Let me drive you to the airport. Please?

Really? Okay. I’ll send you Sam’s adresse.

The game had been at 12:00 and it was now 5:00. Your hair was washed, you smelt good, you looked put together but casual, and you had put on a little makeup. You were set to meet Kristie at 5:30 and Sam’s apparement was a while away from yours. You drove down there, arriving exactly on time.

Sam was waiting outside with Kristie and her bags. You got out of the car and waited to the side as they said goodbye to each other. You then smiled at Kristie and gave her a quick hug. "Let me help you with your bags" you said, grabbing her suitcase and putting it in the trunk of your car. She sat in the seat beside yours as you started the engine again. "Why are you doing this?" Kristie asked, looking at you. "You left an impression on me, Mewis."

You arrived at the airport soon after, and you decided to go in with her until she got to security. You guys talked, played ten questions, and a bunch of other games to get to know each other.

Your heart dropped once you arrived to security. You had both had a silent agreement to walk really slowly, and knowing you would have to say goodbye to each other sucked. "I wish you could stay longer. You should come to the WSL." you told Kristie who looked at you with soft eyes and laughed. "I can’t move away from home for someone I barely know." she said softly, giving you a reality check. "You’re right. But call me, and text me. And don’t go back to the US and forget about me." You told her, hugging her and holding on. "How could I forget you? I have your smelly jersey in my carry on."

Two months later

Nor a day went by where you hadn’t called Kristie. You were happier. You were already very happy before you met Kristie, but lately it was like you were glowing. Your arsenal teammates didn’t know about your relationship with Kristie. Except Katie who had walked in on a call with her and didn’t stop asking questions. You told her and made her swear to stay silent, which of course meant that Ruesha knew too. But that was it. Katie was constantly saying; "she gives you that glow and you haven’t even had sex yet. Wait till you have sex and you’ll be shining like a fucking diamond."

"Hey my love." Kristie said as you joined the facetime on your computer. "Hi baby. I miss you. It feels so stupid that I’m this in love with you and I haven’t even gotten to kiss you yet." You pouted at the camera, making her laugh. "Tell me about it. I think about that all the time." Kristie said with a soft smile. "How are you feeling… about the international fixtures for next month?" you asked your girlfriend. The lionesses were set to travel to the US for a game against the home country, before going to Brazil for a friendly against them. "Like we’re going to beat your asses." The american joked. "Oh sure." you teasingly rolled your eyes. "But… I also feel like I want to tell our teammates. I don’t like hiding you from them. I’m too proud of you to do that any longer." she said, making you blush furiously. "I agree. We tell them after the game." you said, and Kristie nodded.

Every Friday, you would cook the same meal together, and watch a movie on a netflix party. It was your favorite thing to do and every week, you had to come up with excuses on why your Friday’s were so full.

Today was that day. You made pizza and then watched Lord of the Rings together. Kristie fell asleep on face time and you took a couple adorable pictures, wanting nothing more than to show them off to the world.

One month later, New Jersey.

You sat in the locker room with the lionesses, and the knowledge that Kristie was only a few steps away made you want to scream. Sarina was giving a quick talk but you couldn’t focus. You pulled out your phone discretely and clicked on Kristies contact.

Meet me in front of the 3A janitors closet. Saw it while walking in.

You saw that Kristie read the message and as Sarina stopped talking, you stood up. "I’m gonna go in the halls quickly, need a breather." you told the girls, slipping on your One Love captains armband. "Okay. No longer than ten minutes please." Sarina said.

You nodded and slipped out of the room. You had never ran quicker in your life, which was saying a lot considering what your job was. You turned three corners, and then you saw her. Blonde bun at the top of her head, red USA kit on. She caught your eyes and smiled widely. She started running towards you and jumped in your arms. You held her so tightly, wanting her impossibly closer to you. You held her thighs so that her legs stayed around your waist. She pulled away and you leaned in to kiss her.

Your first kiss with her.

You never wanted it to stop.

It didn’t stop for a long time, your lips moulding together and your tongues fighting for dominance. Air should have become a problem much quicker than it did. You were both running on adrenaline, and when holding her became hard, you just walked her backwards against a wall and kept kissing her. Eventually you had to pull away and put her down, coming to your senses and knowing anyone could walk in the hallway at any time.

"I don’t think anything’s ever felt so good." so said to her, making a smile appear on her face. "I don’t even know what to say. I’ve been thinking about kissing you for months and now i’m just… lost." Kristie said.

You tucked a strand of her bun behind her ear and smiled at her. You pressed a kiss to her forehead and then looked back into her eyes. "Now I have to go beat your ass." you groaned. "Not a chance."

The lionesses indeed beat the USA’s ass, the national team not being in their best shape. You won 3-1, you conceded by a goal from Trinity Rodman, who actually opened the scoring of the game, but the english quickly retaliated. Ella scored in the 43 minute, Alex Greenwood in the 60th, and you sunk a penalty in the back of the net in the 77th.

You didn’t celebrate too hard, but you didn’t hold back completely either. It was the americans after all.

At the end of the game, you shook hands with the home team, and to your suprise, young Mallory Swanson asked for your shirt. You gave it to her, and asked for hers, taking a picture for the media.

All you wanted was Kristie though. You found her quickly and walked over to her, hugging her tightly. You knew the interaction looked suspicious, but you both didn’t care.

"You played great, baby." You said to her. "Excuse me!? Baby?!" a voice said.

You froze and turned around slowly, seeing Alex Morgan standing behind you. If there was one player in all of women’s football you were scared of, it was Alex.

You felt small suddenly, and Kristie stepped in front of you. "We’ll talk in the locker room. Go inside." Kristie said sternly.

Alex looked you up and down but nodded and walk into the stadiums tunnels. "You talk to your team, i’ll talk to mine." Kristie said.

You nodded and followed her inside, separating at the locker rooms with a quick kiss.

Sarina gave the group a quick talk, she was proud of the performance, and then let you guys changed. As the girls took off their kits, you stood up in the middle of the room. You cleared your throat, earning the attention of most girls. "Um. Hi." you said awkwardly.

"Hey cap…" Lucy said, a little confused. "Right. I need to tell you guys something. And none of you guys are aloud to go all protective and run over to the USA changing room." you said. "Did one of them hurt you?" Mary asked, standing up. "What? No! Why do you guys always assume someone’s hurt me?" You asked, confused. Mary shrugged and sat back down. "What I want to say… is that i’m saying Kristie Mewis."

The room was silent for a solid twenty seconds until Jordan starred giggling. "You’re joking? Right." she laughed. "Why would I be joking?" you said, slightly offended. "Well… you-" Ella tried to talk but you cut her off.

"I didn’t tell you guys to get mad fun of! Sure our relationship is untraditional but I love her and-"

You didn’t get to finish your sentence as the door of the changing room came flying open, revealing Morgan, Rapinoe and Alyssa Naeher.

"Get out! Guys!" you heard a voice shriek. It was Kristies. You soon enough saw two hands pulling the jerseys of Alex and Megan backwards, pulling them out of the room. Then you saw Kristie walk in and push her goalkeeper out. "I am so sorry, they freaked out and just came running here." Kristie said, looking at you apologetically. "It’s okay, don’t worry. Just- guys i’ll be right back."

The last part of your sentence was addressing the english girls. You walked out of the room and into the hallway where the USA girls seemed to be fuming. "Hey… what can I do for you guys?" you asked, not knowing what to do. Kristie stood at your side defensively.

"Hurt her and we will all fly to London and beat the crap out of you." Rapinoe said.

You had to try not to giggle, you laughed in awkward situations. "Great. That’s great." you said instead.

Alex looked you up and down and then walked away, the two others following their captain.

Once they were out of sight, you turned to Kristie. "Jesus. My teammates are tamer than yours babe." you joked, pulling her into a tight hug. "Tell me about it. What did your teammates say?" Kristie asked into your neck.

"Um… I’m pretty sure they haven’t had time to process." you answered her, pulling away.

"Wanna come in?" you said, smiling at her. "Not really," she laughed. You grabbed onto her hand and pushed the door open where the girls where whispering dramatically. Once they saw the both of you, hand in hand, they stopped. "So how good is she in bed?" Georgia asked, breaking the silence.

"GEORGIA!"

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #arsenal fcw #chelsea fcw #leah williamson #uswnt #engwnt #alex morgan #kristie mewis #woso fanfics

[kiyokatokito]

Appreciation post for your friends?

♡Appreciation post🍃

Hello everyone, this task has been sitting inbox for weeks now😮‍💨 yes I've been on and off with Tumblr, but anyway, it is time to appreciate the people/mutual who became and admitted me as their friend, I'm grateful for almost everyone who has been so o generous to me their kind of way, it is very genuine, to me, I'm fortunate to meet these people.🤧

To the people who are very dear to me❤️♡

@ta-ni-ya Niya, 😩 gurl, the first stages of our friendship were mutual, I never thought or expected that we could come to this very close friendship, because of Sanemi and Muichiro we have become more than just mutual, ( now we are besties I may say😌) the day started talking non-stop, always makes me feel better and motivated to write, your art inspires me so much! And it feels so unreal to have someone draw for my ship! Still! It feels bad asking for it yk! But I love your art style! and everything about your blog hehe! Seeing any notification, from you makes me smile, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! I can't explain it in words properly! And I'm very grateful for the friendship we created, it's more than I could ask for, 😩✨ we are made for each other, (even though sometimes I'm stupid you know what kind of stupid hahaha) I Ju-😩🤌but anyway, please always remember I'm here for you and ready to listen, all of your rants, yapps whatever topic you wish to talk about I'm all ears or eyes lmao, and also! Don't look down at your art, and be always proud of what you do or have done,(this also applies to all) because no one is perfect but at least you are doing your best, and it makes you happy, and I'm very happy if you are!❤️♥️ this is not enough to express my words for you Niya! We click right away I swear! And I hope we stay together, even if we are apart from each other, let's go! Create some more Aus in the future!

@colourstreakgryffin The very first person who approached me directly and role-played with me, I will ever and never forget the day you messaged me first. Love, I am ever grateful for your kindness and with me and everyone with whom you interact too, I love you the way are you right now, even though you changed fandoms, I'm still here to listen to every yap you would share with me HAHA! I love you! There are a lot more words for how much I appreciate you, Love, AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING YOU DID FOR ME🤧 because of you Muikiyo is created too!😤🤧❤️

@unofficialmuilover ❤️And ate! The one who always guided me and also helped with things, I enjoy talking and having her share her days at work with me you know -🤭I just miss you very much! I'm very fortunate to have you as a mutual/ Friend, she also approached me first I'm very touched😩❤️♡♡, and your writing style, always touches the core of my heart!😩♡

To the Moots I always interact with, and they're generous, kind, and friendly:

@larz-barz is The very first person I've sent a MuiKiyo fanfic request to and at that time I didn't have any prompt, not even a background story for my oc, but still did my request. And up until now, the story made up for them lives in me, yes, she perfectly wrote their dynamic and I can't forget it😩 she is also the first person whom I requested to draw my ship, other than that she is really a kind and sweet person! I love her genuinely. (I love TanjiMilo)❤️♡

@kimetsu-chan The second person whom I requested Muikiyo fic and I really loved the way she wrote them😩, an amazing writer and artist too!❤️♡🥹(GiyuYuna is so cute!❤️🤭♡)

@slayfics She is my favorite Fanfic writer, not only her fics, but she is amazing, I love her confidence, and on my knees for the way she writes, ( I always reread her fiction, especially the Mui ones ofc! And I'm gonna be honest even tho I'm not part of the MHA fandom, her fics about them are irresistible!❤️, I'm a simp for your ship! Too🫣🤭♥️

@silliestsakura I really love her art style! It's so pretty and aesthetic too! I requested her once and also made art, especially for my OC as I appreciate, I cannot forget that it means a lot to me😩✨

@tokito-dulya20 dulya She also drew Kiyoka too, I requested her, and she is really nice to interact with!

@shycroissanti IMAA eat her art! 😩🤌 she draws really good, and her comics are fun to read!

@aceofstars0 they are very talented I just know it! And also draws really good!😩

@tinyperson00 The MUIKIYO comic she made for me!🛐 🛐🛐 I can't move on from that, all the ocs you created! I LOVE THEM!❤️😤

@lonesomelad PLEASE HER ART ARGRHENEND is so talented!‼️‼️‼️ Ima eat it up ( I miss her so much )

@chiharuhashibira Ateee! She is really fun to talk to, I've read some of her fics! it's really amazing, I wish I could write like you, @unofficialmuilover, and @slay literally, I won't get bored reading ur fiction, 😩🤌❤️💗

@aeolia DAMN LIKE SHE ALSO WRITES SO GOOD AND I FREAKING MISS HER! her stories are so hot!🔥 (I always reread your fictions yk!)😩♥️we are Mui simps HEHE🫣🤭

@giyubabe lI LOVE UR ART WMSMSMSJSJS would please let me eat it too?🫣🤌✨

@axolotl321 The artwork you do for us! Is very cute! I'm very touched by how try to include every oc we have!🤌🥹❤️ you are very kind!

@ashr0 t's ILEGAL TO WRITE THAT SO GOOD PLEASE AKDMDNNNANSDB IMAA DEVOUR UR FIC ALWAYS!😤😩🤌

@rion-isnot-an-ai your art is really good too, and I love it ship too♡♥️

@mrs-k0zume GURL I love you! Even your fiction and arts are so amazing eh✨😤 !❤️you re very friendly too♡✨

@gyutarowritings ❤️ please I am so lucky to find you yet another amazing writer! I hope to see some more fiction soon!

To the moots I appreciate so much they are great artist and writers too! Y alls inspire me so much!😩✨

@dreamcorechild ♥️

@frosty-lycanthropy❤️

@littlespring8 ❤️

@frostburn-shoto

@boo-simplified❤️Your art is amazing! I love how color them too!🤭♡

@ryn-loves-cheese ❤️ Baee! Your art is amazing!♡

@bottlecapsandotherthings ❤️

@ayunakatsukiwolfhashira ❤️i love your writings! It's one of i look up to!🥹💗

@missshinazugawa ❤️hihi I love your ship and art style too

@knyinfinity ❤️HEY new oc x Muichiro ship! I'm so happy to find another one again!

@local-giyuu-simp ❤️

@misty-sees-you and yes another Oc Muichiro ship I'm loving this 🤭♡♥️

@night-mince0 The art and videos you make are so swt I appreciate your efforts for us and your moots❤️❤️

@cloudymistedskies like I said before your art gives me healing vibes! Ima eat Marimui- /j

Joining tumblr has really changed my life! You are all inspiring! ♡♥️ Im very lucky to meet you all! Ily!❤️♡♥️please if I forgot someone, forgive me! I will add you so tell me!✨♡

#appreaciation post

[dbnightingale24]

Love Me or Just Let Me Go

A Jonathan Crane Love Story

~~

~~

Look who's back and trying to find her footing again 🙃 sorry for the delay, but between my mental health and personal life, things weren't going well and I needed a break. ANYWAY, I'm back with a new series (as well as ready off a few others), and I hope you all enjoy it! I really missed posting.

Just in time for Halloween, Dr. Jonathan Crane. I just figured (as I start to branch out) it's time to write about my favorite Scarecrow. I'm sorry this is so damn long (I really am), but I hope you all enjoy it! Since Tumblr is still on its bullshit, I can only post part of it here, but the full post will be on AO3 (I'll leave the link). As always, thank you @fuckingbye for the amazing moodboard. I love you!

Word Count: 56,703 (I said I was sorry)

Warnings: SMUT (Minors DNI), Swearing, Drinking, Degrading Kink, Car Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smoking, Arguing, Family Drama, Angst, Mentions of Abuse, Fluff (ish), Childhood Trauma, Self Hate, Revenge, Loneliness, Trust Issues, Mental Health (or lack thereof)...I think I handled everything?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: Man, You Make It Easy For Me. So, Why Can't I Make You Love Me?

~~

I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this kind of behavior or relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

“Doctor Crane,” you smile sweetly as your favorite patron makes his way to the counter.

Your smile may be sweet, but you know your eyes show the same thing they always do whenever he shows up: pure desire and lust. The coy smile he always returns lets you know that he’s very well aware of the effect he has on you.

Effect.

“Same as always?”

“Coffee, black, please,” he smiles as he pulls out his wallet.

“New admittance at Arkham?” you ask, turning and starting on his second usual

At least three times a month, he orders a black coffee.

“No, but it is late night for work.”

“When isn’t it in Gotham?” you scoff, placing the lid on his drink.

“How about you?” he asks, handing you a twenty.

“What about me?”

“Another late night?”

“I’m the only one brave enough to close the store, so yeah. I always have a late night,” you laugh softly, taking his money while typing the amount into the register.

“Gotham doesn’t scare you?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve met my Mother already, and I witnessed what drove her to madness, because I saw my Father’s death, so no. Gotham doesn’t scare me.”

“Your Mother...” he trails off as he looks you over, “Y/M/N?”

“I’m surprised you’re just figuring it out,” you laugh handing him back his change. “Everyone always said I look just like her, but I’m guessing the piercings, dyed hair, and tattoos have changed my appearance a bit.”

“Your Mother is quite the character.”

“You’re putting it nicely.”

“Keep it,” he says, gently pushing your hand back.

“The coffee was only two dollars.”

“Your company is always worth much more than that,” he laughs. “If you don’t mind me asking, how were you able to handle it so well?”

“If I tell you that, there will be no reason for you to come around for your afternoon tea, will there? Besides, you’ve got a late night of work ahead of you, and I’ve got ungrateful customers to tend to,” you smirk, cocking an eyebrow.

“Guess I’ll just have to ask again tomorrow.”

“Play your cards right and you may just get an answer,” you shrug and he laughs.

“You have a good night, Y/N.”

“You too, Dr. Crane.”

“Jonathan.”

“Jonathan Crane,” you smile as he grabs his coffee, nods, and walks away.

And just like that, he was gone. It’s the same conversation every day, today a little more telling just because he knows a bit (or a lot depending on how you look at it) about you. It’s always the same amount of small talk, flirty eye on your part, and him looking as if he’s interested but knows better. Smart on his part.

Sure, he deals with crazies, but he’s never dealt with you.

For the rest of the evening, you live in the feeling of that little exchange. Yeah, the man looks like he can’t carry a bookcase, but you know it’s all an act. You’re not dumb. You’ve heard whispers about Dr. Jonathan Crane, and most of it isn’t pleasant. It’s most definitely in your best interest to stay away, especially considering that your Mother is a patience at his place of work, but you can’t stop yourself. Beside, you live in Gotham.

It’s not like you have a ton of “good guys” to choose from.

You can’t pin down exactly what draws you to him, but you know that you can’t turn it off. You’ve tried multiple times. From the first time you laid eyes on him, you wanted him. No, you needed him, in the most unnatural way. Maybe it’s from living in Gotham all your life but, for whatever reason, you feel a sense of security when he comes in.

Yeah, you’ve definitely been in Gotham for too long.

“You’re sure you’re okay to close up all by yourself?” your co-worker Michael asks as he grabs his backpack off of the coat rack, while the last customer scurries out.

“I do it every night, Mike,” you scoff, wiping down the counter. “Get home safe.”

“Ya know, working with you is hard,” he sighs and you start laughing. “What?! It’s true! You’re the only one ever willing to close up shop-”

“It gives me a thrill,” you smirk with a cocked eyebrow. “Go home and tell Josh that you fought off a mugger, if it’ll help your ego.”

“He’d kill me if I ever tried to stop crime from happening,” he laughs softly. “You sure you’re okay, babe?”

“I promise. Get home safe.”

“You too,” he nods before walking out. 

You lean against the counter, pull out your phone, and scroll through all the evening news you’ve missed. 

Another raping, another stabbing, another kidnapping....it’s all just another day in Gotham. You don’t even bother to look up when you hear the front door open and close.

“If you want coffee, you’ve come to the right place. If you want anything else, I’m afraid you’re in the wrong damn shop,” you mumble as an article about Arkham Asylum catches your eye.

You may not see your Mother often, but that doesn’t mean you don’t care about her.

“How about a cup of tea?” a familiar voice asks.

You look up to see Dr. Jonathan Crane standing at the counter, small smile tugging on his lips, but his hair is out of place.

“Rough night, Doc?” you question, pushing yourself up with your foot, making your way over to the kettle and setting it up. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Your hair is out of place and there’s a bit of blood on your glasses, and the lapel of your shirt.”

“You’re more observant than I thought.”

“You’ve thought about me?” you tease, pulling out his his favorite tea powder.

Ginseng.

“More than you think.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re a mystery.”

“I’m sure you’ve met far more interesting subjects than me. You’ve already met my Mother.”

“While she is very much a fun case to study, now that I know she’s your Mother, you’re much more...complex.”

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” you laugh, finishing up his drink before pouring it in a to-go cup. “That’s the nicest way I’ve ever been called insane.”

“Far from insane, Y/N. Very far. More like-”

“Troubled?” “Not that either...a to-go cup?”

“You’ve never been one to sit and stay since you started working at the Asylum.”

“A good point. What else do you know about me?”

“Nothing.”

“What else have you heard about me?”

“Things I’m sure you don’t wanna hear about,” you promise, looking him over as you lean against the counter. “No charge. You get home safe.”

“You see blood on my glasses and my shirt, but tell me to get home safe?”

“Who am I to judge?”

“You know, this day has been very telling about you but, at the same time, I feel like I know you less than I did before.”

“If I’m not keepin’ ya guessing, what’s the point of our lovely little chats?”

“Who says that I need these little moments to keep me interested?”

“Show me that you don’t.”

“Have a drink with me and I will,” he smiles coyly, mischief in his eyes.

Every red alarm in your brain goes off, but you’ve never bothered to listen to them before, so why start now?

You poured yourself a cup of coffee and slowly made your way from around the counter, ignoring the the sirens as they grow louder and louder, and sit across from him at the small table. 

“Jonathan,” you smile, mischief dancing around in your own eyes as you take a sip of your coffee. “Take your best shot.”

“What do you fear?” he asks with a cocked eyebrow and you scoff. “What?”

“What do you think I fear?”

“I can’t get a read on you.” “That’s fair, I guess,” you shrug, swirling the coffee in your cup around a bit. “I’ll tell you what I fear if you tell me something about you. I’ll know if you’re lying, so don’t try it,” you proposition, meeting his gaze with a devilish glint in your eye.

You really shouldn’t be playing this game.

An evil smirk spreads across his face before he responds with, “I’m the one who created the fear toxin.”

‘Will you stop fucking playing this game?! Tell him you need to get home!’ your brain begs, but you’re just starting to have fun.

You’ve never been good at doing what’s in your best interest.

“That tracks,” you shrug before taking a sip of your coffee.

“It tracks?”

“You work at the Asylum, no one in this city really has a good and clean record-”

“Oh? What’s on your record?”

“I put laxatives in drinks of customers who piss me off,” you tell him nonchalantly and laugh and when he practically chokes on his tea. “What? I don’t seem capable?”

“For some reason, I thought it would be something along the lines of murder.”

“No, I’m afraid the only thing I’ve ever really broken is hearts.”

“Why’s that?”

“I learned very early in life to never get too attached to anyone in Gotham. Never works out well for me.”

“Your parents?”

“Parents, first real love, last serious relationship. I fuck until I’m bored and then I leave.”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, but you can’t tell what it is. It’s not disdain or disappointment, but more along the lines of...shock? Confusion.

“So, you have fear of abandonment?” he asks as your timer goes off.

“Well, it’s time for me to close up shop, Dr. Crane,” you smile, getting up making your way back behind the counter with your half full cup of coffee.

“I didn’t take you as someone who’s a liar,” he comments and you don’t miss the irritation in his tone.

“I never said I wouldn’t tell you, I said it’s time for me to close up shop. However, I do like having this effect on you.”

“And what effect is that?”

“Rattling your cage.”

“Oh, you do much more than that, and I think you’ve known that for quite some time.”

“Oh, but Doctor Crane, this is the first time you’ve ever had the balls to court me,” you smirk over your shoulder and he laughs.

“How long does it usually take you to close up shop?”

“As long as I want it to. Why do you ask?”

“Do you have any plans tonight?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I figured we could...take a walk around the city.”

“You’re a very confident man, Dr. Crane.”

“No one’s gonna touch me out there.”

“And what on earth would we talk about on this little walk?”

“You.”

“Your obsession with me is cute. I like it a lot.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s an obsession, more like...fascination.”

“And what’s so fascinating about little old me?” you ask, covering the tops of all the different syrups. 

“Like I said,” he responds softly right behind you, causing you to jump, “because you’re a mystery.”

Oh, you’re fucking in it now. 

~~

You can read the full story here

~~

tags: @autumnrose40

#fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfiction #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x oc #scarecrow x y/n #jonathan crane x y/n #Scarecrow Dc

[qsmplover]

Hello! I adored the Headcanons you wrote about Q!Cellbit and the short fluffy one you did for quackity! Can you write a little hurt/confort for Reader x Q!Cellbit, for the time cucorucho killed him with the chainsaw?

Hi, loves!! So so sooo sorry for disapearing like that! I got enrolled into some errands and had to let it go of some of my dreams [Like starting an "Only art Tumblr", this tumblr and another one that was fully "others midias"] If you guys want to, I can retweet one of my drawings of my other account [when I got courage to post it] In a way or another, I'm back and ready to write to all of you!! So less go!! And also, thank you for the request and for liking my work!! <3

Q!Cellbit x Reader.

Plot: When everyone was thinking that he was weird and not supporting him enough... There was you. Genre: Fluffy/Comfort. Relationship: It can be read as Platonic or Romantic. TW: Has mentions of cannibalism and killing!

Demon. That's what that thing was. A creature that was doing this in order to make him go insane, a creature that was doing this to keep him out of service… He hated it. He hated how it reminded him about those years. Yes… He remembers well how he got into that prison, how his sick and twisted mind worked, what he did to go to that prison… How ironic it was that this looked exactly like what he did to someone there.

He was running from Cucurucho, that thing was carrying its weapon - a chainsaw - and even after the “dream”, he swears he could still hear it. And, when he was “awake”, his first instinct was to scream. He got up from that bed in one second, with his hand at his heart and almost taking his sword to try to kill whatever brought him to this place… Until he noticed it: It was your place.

You came running at the door, opening with a kick and with a iron sword in hands, you screamed: “WHO THE FUCK IS MESSING WITH MA BOY??? SHOW UP-” Looking around with a brave expression… You noticed that there was no one except for Cellbit there. He seemed to calm down a bit, breathing in and out heavily while he let it out a chuckle. “You sure are my knight...” He joked while he pointed at how you were fully dressed with the iron armor. Until he noticed it... You could be in danger if Cucurucho was there with you two “It was… Just m- Wait- Where is he??? Where’s that bear?! CARALHO! CADÊ ESSE URSO BRANCO DO CARALHO!” You knew - from what the others brazilians taught you or because portuguese was your first language - that he said "Fuck! Where’s that fucking white bear?" “White bear?” You asked a bit confused “Are you talking about Cucurucho? What happened?” You got closer to Cellbit, touching his hand sweetly and looking into his eyes. “Tell me, what did you see?” “Ugh- I mean… It was some nights ago, he… Killed me with a chainsaw. Since then, I have been having nightmares about that… Bear and that stupid chainsaw.” You touched his face, he didn’t notice it at first but you were wiping his tears. “That- Stupid bear… The favela thought that I was ‘dreaming the whole time’, but I SWEAR! I swear I remember dying by his hands…” “Sh, sh, sh… Breath, darling.” You remind him “Now, look… I believe you. That bear didn’t sit right with me, y’know? Now I have a reason to not trust it.” Holding one of his hands while wiping his tears with another, you smiled a bit “Would you want a coffe and to hear some music? It may make you feel well… If you want to, you can sleep here too, I will protect you from that bear!” The words you said were too powerful to someone like Cellbit.

He was accustomed to be the one who was feared, not the one who was loved… He cheated, killed and eaten the ones who loved/trusted him… Only Felps was able to understand his twisted mind, only Felps knew about how and WHY he changed.

But now, looking at you, he sees another reason to change. He sees another reason to be a better person, you were so kind… So understanding, he held you tightly in a hug, you could hear his soft cries saying “Thank you” in portuguese. You smiled a bit, only hugged him back while letting him cry his heart out on your shoulder.

#cellbit #qsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #qsmp #gender neutral reader #gn reader #cellbit x reader #qsmp cellbit #q!cellbit #mcyt #platonic #romantic

[tachimichishrine]

<ok guys so hear me out. this is the second time i've posted this on tumblr (originally posted on my main— which isn't a fic blog btw) AND i have it somewhere on my other platforms that i havent touched in ages... im just tryin to organize myself so pls dont remind me..... womp womps apologetically,, anywho, it's canon that jouno was a crime executive before joining the hunting dogs sooooo !!!!!! >

"sweet and sour"

◝≞▣≞◜ crime executive!jouno saigiku x gn!reader

warnings: except for a bit of guns + cursing and ooc jouno,, none! this is all fluff :) i didn't write this in lowercase??? crazy amirite

.

.

.

.

"Jouno Sai... Saigay? I was certain there was gay in there somewhere... Anyways! Hi!! It's a pleasure to meet you!!"

The mispronounced man in question glared at the individual who was giggling happily, strolling around in the office like they owned the place, shooting a, "Hey, Fernando, did you get a new haircut?", "Lookin' good in that suit, Ichika!", and, "Oh my god! Where did you get those shoes, I swear I saw the exact same ones at that store down the street, the uh... what's it called? Y'know what I'm talking about, don't'cha?" to his fellow executives like they've been friends for years on end.

The room had always been tense, from what he recalled. When people entered, they expected to get shot by the boss, or be given a task so difficult to complete that they would ultimately get shot. In short, a meeting with the renowned organization that Jouno Saigiku worked for was a death sentence for his subordinates, even more so for rival organizations.

Yet, this person had been bouncing around the walls like a child in a candy store, waving around the knife at their fingertips like a ten thousand yen bill and showing off the gun strapped to their thigh and waist with the same bubbly confidence of a new outfit they'd just bought the previous day.

'They're going to get themselves killed in no time,' he laughed to himself, waiting for the one in charge to enter the room.

For now, he was responsible for managing the building and their potential customer (from another criminal organization. It made him wonder how on earth someone like them could possibly be working in the same sadistic field as he did) until their meeting began. He'd never met this person in particular before, and wished he would've never had to. However, business was business, and he would need to accommodate them well enough to prevent a war between the two groups to break out.

"[l/n], was it?" he smirked, a strained playful smile that was barely hanging above the devilish one he had underneath. "It's Jouno Saigiku, and I'd recommend that you refrain from making yourself too comfortable in here. You are, as you know, on our turf, which means that-"

"Bla, bla, bla! you're so formal!" they scoffed with a wave of their hands, bouncing off of the velvet couch and strolling up to the executive, glaring at him with a particular expression that he couldn't see. "I'm actually rather touched that you knew my name! [l/n] [y/n], I'm your connect with [criminal organization name ~ [c /o/n]] so don't be a meanie!"

..."Don't be a meanie? "

As if by miracle, the boss entered right when they were about to get close enough to his straightened-out figure, almost army-like in posture, to tap his nose with their fingertip as one does with children. In his field of work, only people of utmost trust managed to meet directly with the person on the top, so he considered that perhaps they were prevalent in some other field that didn't have to do with relationships and appearance. Now, all he had to do was wait for his boss to get infuriated at their attitude and demand that he dispose of them and he'd be able to drag them out back and peel off their skin...

"[l/n], dear! It's been a while, has it not?"

This keeps getting better and better.

"Kantoku!" they beamed out, running over to the old man and avidly shaking his hand. "Oh, I've missed you so! Things have changed around here, didn't they? You never told me you promoted a new executive!"

With a playful eyeroll, Kantoku - the man in charge of his crime syndicate - gestured to the couch and began to converse, almost casually. What baffled him, perhaps the most of all, was that every regular beat of their heart was steady, this wasn't a feigned façade nor overcompensation for fear. This person was truly, genuinely an idiot.

"Pst, Jouno," the woman executive standing beside him nudged his shoulder, "the boss is here so we're free to go. Plus, that asshole who stole from us isn't talking, so we might need your help."

With that, he left behind both the room and the lingering feeling of confusion regarding [l/n] [y/n].

.

.

.

.

.

Jouno Saigiku did not have a very complex job.

In fact, his daily tasks mostly consisted of torture and punishment, with the occasionally laying off (which undoubtedly meant death. There was quite a bit of death around him, a certain fading scent that permeated throughout any room he'd visit. This was not a literal physical scent, for that would obstruct his sight and handicap his senses, but nonetheless he found himself rather pleased when he felt warm blood splatter across his soft cheeks.)

Today was nothing different; supposedly, someone from [c /o/n] had blundered and fled right into their territory. Given the amical relationships between the two groups, it was their job to retrieve and return the fugitive, annihilate them if they do not cooperate and it becomes necessary.

At the moment, he found himself seated in a vehicle, driving to the last location that this person was last seen, being described as "[s/c] skinned and [e/c] eyed", all attributes which couldn't possibly make any difference to him, due to his lack of vision. When he asked for a name of this person, he was shocked to learn that it was the same energetical and bubbly individual who vaguely crossed his radar a few weeks back.

"Oi, oi, Jouno slow down, we don't wanna pass 'em 'cause you're drivin' too fast, 'ight?" his coworker for this mission reprimanded. "Just 'cause you can do that fancy hearin' thing ain't mean my eyes ain't good, 'ight?"

Jouno thus pressed his foot with more force against the gas pedal, speeding up the car only because he didn't quite like the tone of this person.

"Hm?" he asked innocently. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you very well, what did you say?"

"I said slow down you-"

They cut themselves off, not allowing for a response since their silence indicated that they had learnt something new.

"Woah, yeah, they're right over there!" they exclaimed, tapping a point on the window so that Jouno could hear the faint sound and distinguish which direction their target was. "Pull over, I'll tie 'em up and toss 'em in the back."

The white-haired man paused momentarily, thin brows imitating each other as they angled upwards in confusion.

"What do you mean? That's not them."

"For a blind bitch, ya really think yer all that, don't'cha? I can literally see them right now, they're standing outside the fuckin' car so pull over and lemme mug 'em."

His lips had pressed into a line, contemplating the situation. The reason he wasn't allowed to go on his own was because they were extremely picky about identifying the right culprit, yet Jouno cared little for his escort of sorts. He'd encountered [l/n] before, and what marked his memory the most, asides from their childlike behavior, was how their heart hadn't betrayed a thing on the outside attitude, despite being blatantly threatened. This person, the one that his temporary partner had suggested was their target, was in fact sweating buckets and had such an erratic heartbeat he might've believed them to be having tachycardia. On top of this, their breathing was not the same, from what he gauged, they couldn't possibly be the right height, build and walking pattern. People on the run obviously become more more jittery when faced with escaping an impossible situation, but this conflicted his knowledge in too many ways to be true.

"I believe," he suggested calmly with a grin appearing, still refusing to unlock the doors or pull over, therefore driving past the individual, "that [l/n] might not be as gullible as we first presumed, and that this person is a decoy set up to distract us."

And so, Jouno found himself pleasantly challenged by the least likely person.

.

.

.

.

.

As the sun bled out into the sky during its descent from the zenith to the crepuscule, Jouno had finally managed to shed his gravely irritating partner and complete his task alone.

That idiot - really, that's all he could call them - decided to ignore his words and kidnap the scapegoat. Of course, this person sobbed and repeatedly told them that they're not the right person, that there's been a mistake, but no one believed their words. Inevitably, they were tortured for a few hours and deemed unnecessary. Jouno shot them, then headed back to search for the real culprit.

"Now, where could they be?" he hummed, almost amusedly, to himself. "Most people tend to lay low when running from important and dangerous organizations, but something tells me..."

He was rather lucky, in a sense, that someone had spotted the fugitive near a bar. However, this was over 5 hours ago. People on the run tend to be smart enough to scatter from location to location, but he supposed he shouldn't be overestimating other people's intelligence.

The door creaked with a lowly groan, as did the floor when he applied weight onto it via his heavy tread. Upon first impressions, the bar was nearly empty.

Then, he heard a voice call out.

"SAIGAY!! Ahh, it's been a while, hasn't it?! Come, come! Can I order you anything? You look like a bourbon man, are you into bourbon? Unless... fine wine? Oh dear, don't keep me guessing, come, sit!"

Immediately, as soon as they called out his name and announced themselves with such ardor, he knew he had the right person.

"No thank you," he smiled. "I can't drink, I'm currently at work."

"Are you? Aw, you don't mean you're here to kill me?" they replied, voice dipping down to a pouty grumble as they neared the end of the sentence. "I'm tired of people trying to kill me, it's no fun."

Idling at the entrance, Jouno didn't quite motion to sit next to them, nor did he seek to keep close in case of sudden evacuation. From what he had heard, this person was without ability, so they didn't pose much danger. Nevertheless, he was a cautious man, and had known that false information could potentially be fatal in certain circumstances, especially when the target is acting so laid back.

"You stole half a million yen from one of the most dangerous organizations around, I don't particularly think you'd've expected it to be fun."

Met with muttering, he would've asked them to speak up had he not heard the nearly incomprehensible, "but I didn't steal anything" from their lips.

"You didn't?" he said aloud. "Then where do you suppose the money had gone?"

A pause insinuated, and he pondered repeating his question in a more forceful way when they answered. "Woah, you've got great hearing! I wish I were like that, half the time people talk to me and all I hear is 'bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bl-'"

Jouno pulled out his firearm and pointed it directly at them.

"Enough games. Cooperate and I'll only make it hurt a lot."

"Gee, mister, did someone piss in your cheerios? I'll come, I'll come, just give me a second! I want to finish my drink."

On the table, however, there wasn't a single glass.

Upon having Jouno point this detail out (for while he could not see, he could still visualize objects in space with his other senses), they paused briefly. "So either you're blind but scarily good at it, or you can see through that crazy squinting of yours."

"I don't appreciate you stalling," he hummed, cocking the gun. "Do you think I won't shoot?"

"No, no, it's clear you would!" giggled the individual. "But, oh, do tell me more about yourself. Being threatened is so much more pleasant when-"

He shot them once.

He shot them twice.

Both bullets landed in non-lethal locations, such as their right shoulder and calf, which was enough to get his message across without rushing his punishment for their actions.

"That hurt!" they frowned, clutching at the opening from which blood was rushing out. "Owwie! You really don't like talking with people, do you, Saigay?"

"Saigiku," he corrected with a hiss. "Do you ever stop talking? I could very well kill you right now."

"Well, I sure hope you don't!"

This just made him want to shoot them even more.

He listened eagerly as they let out a few hisses and groans, then a soft squelch and the clattering of a metal against the marble countertop. He guessed that they were taking out the bullet from their calf, since the one in their shoulder had effectively shattered into hundreds of shards, and would require special medical attention immediately if they wished to live for a few more years. Then again, he knew that they probably wouldn't live past tomorrow, so it wasn't his concern.

Letting out a soft gasp while they tore off part of their attire in order to wrap their injured limb, they still seemed to be laughing. "Thanks."

"For the gunshot wound?" the white-haired male tried to clarify. He didn't take them to be such an open masochist.

Yet, his question only spurred a flurry of coughing and chuckles. "Of course not! I meant, thank you for not attacking me further. Really thought you'd kill me here and now, but you're letting me treat my wounds without interference. Is it because you have orders not to kill me?" Adding with a terribly comedic bite of their lip, they said, "Or have you been seduced by my charm?"

Once he made it perfectly clear that he'd shoot again, they backed off on the teasing remarks and requested that he help them up. "To walk," they'd clarified. "I can't walk, y'know. How do you plan on getting me back to your base?"

"I'll drag you by your hair if I need to," he replied.

(He had to hijack a car because there was no way he'd drag a body across the city, especially not a body as talkative as this one.)

"So you're telling me," they pondered while blindfolded and cuffed in the back of the vehicle, "that you're blind, yet you have highlights? They're pretty, I'll give you that, but why did you colour it? Midlife crisis? Doesn't sound right to me, plus you can't even see the colour so why on earth would you do it? Are you responding to me? I can't hear anything with this blindfold over my ears. Aren't blindfolds supposed to obstruct your vision, not your hearing? Man, but maybe I can hear perfectly fine and it's all your fault because you're not answering me. C'mon, Saigay, humor me!"

Of course, he had no intentions of humoring them.

"You're lucky I didn't gag you," he said. "Or cut off your tongue. In fact, knocking you unconscious would've been a splendid idea."

"But you didn't!" the ex-criminal beamed. "Besides, I'm going to get beat up enough once you deliver me back to [c /o/n]. If you ask them to let you watch and/or participate, they won't say no, I think. Pops isn't too strict when it comes to those things."

"Pops?"

"Y'know, the head of [c /o/n]. He's my dad's close friend and the brother in law of your boss."

That explained a lot of things, starting with this seemingly innocent person's involvement with such dark themes. Yet, there was still something Jouno needed to know.

"And you betrayed your own family friend?" asked the blind man, quickly approaching the location of the building in which he was given rendezvous for the drop-off of the traitor.

"Ahh, connections don't mean shit," they scoffed, waving around their tied hands as if to emphasize their point. "But I didn't betray them. I'd have to be an idiot.... No, not an idiot, whatever is worse than an idiot in order to steal money from a man who would've given me the cash if I asked him for it. So, no. I didn't steal anything. That's why I didn't run; I'm not guilty of anything, running would make it look like I am."

Jouno was interiorly perplexed. So they've got a decent brain behind all of that buttery personality, after all. But, there was just something about them that didn't fit with the narrative, something he couldn't wrap his head around.

"Why wait for me to tie you up?" he finally suggested aloud, hearing his own words formed allowing him to make more sense of his confusion. "Why not just waltz into the building? This makes you look both stupid and guilty."

A laugh burst from the backseat, the kind of laugh that makes you want to join in despite not fully understanding the reason behind it. It was however cut short, due to a sharp inhale of pain then a few curses murmured at their injuries.

"Maybe I am an idiot. Maybe I wanted to get caught. Who knows? Maybe this was all part of my master plan to lure you near Negishi Station so that I could use my all-powerful ability."

He spent a few seconds registering that last bit. Lure him out to Negishi so they could...

"BOOM!"

With a jolt, he nearly crashed the car; luckily, in time Jouno had realized that this was just a sound effect from the hostage, and not a real crash caused by an ability. They were, in fact, right next to Negishi, which made the whole thing a huge coincidence, but other than that, nothing occurred. They were still in the car, unharmed and untouched by any ability that he could detect.

Meanwhile, [l/n] was laughing their ass off.

"BWAHAHAH, you actually fell for it!!" they managed between heaving breaths and uncontrollable laughter. "I knew that since you were blind you would be sensitive to loud noises but that worked so much better than I thought it would, you should've seen your face! You were all like," then they proceeded to make a plethora of faces he couldn't see, but that he knew were all mocking him.

[l/n] continued, "By the way, just because I haven't used it doesn't mean I don't have an ability. So watch out for your ass, pretty boy, or else I might just... BAM!"

He did not flinch this time, but he found himself rather frustrated with his previous reaction. People, normal people, never teased him this way. He'd have thought [l/n] would be a bit less friendly around him after sustaining the injuries, but so far, that appeared only to drive them towards a playful alternative to revenge on par with a snowball fight between two children.

"I'll tell you what," concluded the hysterical individual attempting to calm themselves down, "let's do this again, same time tomorrow? Muah, it was lovely meeting you Saigay!!"

Before he could protest or question this, they waved around their somehow uncuffed hands, reached for the handle of the car door, pushed it open and leaped out.

.

.

.

.

.

He found himself standing at the entrance of the bar the very next day.

It was beyond frustrating to pick up the pieces of yesterday's aftermath; based on his recollection and the most probable situation, [l/n] likely used the loud noises not only to ruffle and distract him, but to cover up for the sound of the click of their handcuffs being taken off, courtesy of a pin they had picked the lock with. On top of this, their haphazardous mention of Negishi station was just a way of situating themselves in space (since they had been blindfolded) so they could think of the safest escape route.

He quite frankly did not expect to be outsmarted by someone who can't even remember his name right. Yet, the fact remained that he was strolling up to the entrance of the same place as he'd previously apprehended them at, same hour of the day. He rather hated the sunset; nothing felt right for him. Not the consistent buzzing of the cicadas during the day nor the melodic trilling of the crickets; dusk never held a sustainable aura, and for this reason he'd grown to loathe it, despite being told repeatedly that the setting sun was beautiful.

Rushing curtly inside the building, the bells connected to the door jingled, and, almost on cue, a loud cheer roused him from his lucid trance.

"Saigay!! Over here, over here! Can't say I expected you to show up, but I'm pleasantly surprised!" gleamed [l/n] upon his arrival.

"It's Saigiku," he repeated for an umpteenth time, "and I'm here to turn you in."

They shook their head. "I'd have hoped you'd realized that I don't take to being kidnapped. But I do appreciate the perseverance, so I'll make a deal; have a drink with me, then I'll cooperate for an entire 5 minutes without trying to escape."

"...You truly are an odd person," said he, despite taking a seat by their side and waiting. He didn't know what trick they had up their sleeve (rather, their cast. Turns out, they'd gone to a private medical professional in order to have it looked at. He smiled when he noticed this; a sure sign that victory was much more likely tonight.)

"I'll take that as a compliment!" [l/n] laughed heartily, then called for the waiter. "One [favorite drink] for me, and he'll have a cup of whiskey. The good type, y'know what I mean, darling?"

The waiter raised a brow at the nickname and odd hint, but took the order anyways and began preparation. Meanwhile, Jouno sat, trying to protest that he did not want anything to drink, but was quickly cut off by his temporary enemy's much louder affirmations that he did indeed want some.

"You don't look like the type to be trying out sobriety," they hummed, "but I know if I let you chose for yourself, you wouldn't get anything. You'd be all," (and here their voice deepened and became gruff in an attempt to make it clear that they were looking to mock him,) "'I'm here to kill you! I'm a mass murderer so fear me!!' Am I right or am I right?"

Before he could respond, the fingers on their uninjured hand began to flick his dangling earring, on the right side of his face.

"You have an earring," they pointed out, almost stupidly. "Why don't you have one on the other side?"

He wasn't going to respond to any of this. In fact, he was toying with the knife in his pocket, gauging the right moment to strike with such an unpredictable opponent.

"Because I don't," he said dully. The waiter came, their glasses clinking with the ice inside as it toyed around in the liquid, gently being placed onto the counter.

"Fair enough," they smiled. "Okay sooooooo, wha'd'ya wanna talk 'bout? Gimme anything, I hate silence."

That made two of them.

"What is your ability?" he said rather bluntly, with a soft hum. He was in an optimal position to strike, only a few centimeters away, but he thought better than to attack without knowing such an important piece of information. Besides, with the way the conversation was going, they seemed to be eager to tell him the truth, for whatever reason, so he wouldn't lose anything to try.

After taking a long sip from their drink, they paused. "Nothing, I don't have one. You?"

The cautious man pressed further. "I find it hard to believe you haven't an ability in such a dangerous environment."

With a chuckle, they took another gulp from the glass. Then, turning to him with a relaxed heartbeat, they said very calmly and slowly, "I don't believe in needless deceit. Unlike you, Mr. Hide-my-knife-in-my-pocket-that-I'm-going-to-stab-you-with, I don't play dirty. So, when I say that I don't have an ability, don't be so surprised, yeah? The majority of people don't. I supposed when you're gifted, you don't quite try to sympathize with those unlike you."

So, they're aware of the weapon, yet made no move to dodge? Perhaps he's overthinking this, after all there are many people who seem invincible just because one doesn't act based on rational decisions, but based on their feelings. He should know, he spends most of his free time toying with said emotions and tearing them apart.

In one swift movement, he let his knife slide back down his pocket and removed both hands from the shadows.

"You sound genuine," he said, almost to himself.

"Well, I sure hope so," they laughed, despite nothing particularly funny being said. "I am being genuine, after all. You'll be able to bring me in and tie me up properly in a little while, so I'm going to enjoy the now while I still can, that's my philosophy!"

"Your philosophy is to drink something before you get kidnapped instead of trying to escape?" he repeated, incredulous. Perhaps their drink was laced with something, some kind of drug that drags your mood to a high. Even if he smelled no trace of anything other than [favorite drink], he concluded that this was the only reasonable explanation to this indecipherable human being.

Doubling over with a violent wheeze, they were (yet again) laughing at his words. They babbled a few words between gasps for breath, such as, "Didn't know you had a sense of humour!" and "Please, I can't breathe!" like he'd been a world renowned comedian. He almost felt the urge to clarify that he was attempting to degrade them, to criticize them and point out their stupidity, but one does not simply explain themselves when insulting another. Typically, their words transmitted the message well enough, but this was far from a typical recipient.

Finally recovering, they put on a mock angry face and waved around their finger. "You fiend, take it easy, I'm injured! At this rate, you'll make me pop my lungs out, ahah! Is that your master plan? To incapacitate me verbally? Bravo, I didn't expect that!"

"I wasn't..." he said, trailing off as he was thoroughly perplexed. What does one say in his situation? At this rate, his biggest concern was their oddities, not their capture.

On second thought, he nearly forgot that he was here to capture them.

"That's the beauty of it," they exclaimed, waving around their drink and spilling a considerable amount on his shirt accidentally with the grand gesture. "Unintentional torture! Wow, you must be even better than what I've heard about you, Saigay."

Not even bothering to correct them, he said, "And what exactly have you heard of me?"

"One, that you're very attractive. Two, you're ruthless when it comes to sadism. Three, you have exceptional intellect and four, you can hear heartbeats. Is that last one true? Wouldn't that make you a living polygraph?"

He was, but also wasn't, listening. The first thing they'd mentioned was his attractiveness, likely physical, but what an odd thing to point out, that is! Fighting down the odd feeling blooming in his chest with success, he finally mustered a response; an affirmation.

"That must be your ability," they pondered. "Isn't it? You'd be too strong if you had something else on top of this."

With a grin, Jouno explained, "It is not."

A melodramatic gasp could be heard echoing throughout the mostly empty room. "It isn't?? Gah, I must've been astronomically lucky to have escaped you last time!"

He'd've agreed had he not been promptly cut off by a rush of guesses regarding his ability. Most were way off, a select few absurd, and the entirety of them wrong. He felt his face contort into that of a confused expression when they suggested that he might be able to listen to people through walls, drawing an example by explaining that he might, and here the words were engraved into his mind, "listen in on people while they went to the bathroom, thus deducing whether their digestion was going well." Somehow, this had become a conversation in which they recounted the vivid tale of their daunting task of finding a bathroom once when they'd been in a 'foreign environment' - also known as the downtown region of the neighboring city during a negotiation.

All done and said, they'd contented themselves with a fairly one sided discussion, and he sipped down the Japanese whiskey he'd been handed. Upon noticing this, [l/n] stuck out both of their wrists as best as they could, pressed near one another as if pleading.

"Well, a deal's a deal! Take me away, Saigay! Ah! That rhymes! Maybe I should become a poet!" they giggled.

Jouno considered this for a long time, the topic that was on his mind ever since his arrival. The previous day, he'd told his boss that [l/n] couldn't be found, and that he must've made a mistake when saying that the doppelganger was a fake. This, of course, was untrue, but it also gave him leeway in case he found himself up against a formidable opponent. All of this meant that, if he did not turn [l/n] in to [c /o/n], he himself would not lose anything.

It wasn't sympathy, he told himself, that led him to get up and walk away as they left their arms extended. No, it was just an avoidance of unnecessary effort. If he walked away now, he would save himself the hassle of detaining them, all the while giving this person a second chance. Who knows, perhaps they'd be useful to him in the future.

.

.

.

.

.

Jouno had not expected to be called by the lower ranking members of his organization early in the morning. What he had expected was to go to his office; not being told that there was a "package" waiting for him at the base.

He hadn't a clue what this package was. His first instinct was that it was a weapon of sorts, a bomb, anything that did damage. Although, it could very well also be a traitor who had been tied up and sent to him as a peace offering. The more he thought about it, the happier he was as he approached the location in which he was expected.

"J-Jouno-sama!" exclaimed one of the nervous underlings - a kid, really - holding a...

...A dog?

It barked at him, growling and struggling in the grasp of the two kids tasked with holding it down.

"What is this, a prank?" Jouno hissed, ready to make them pay before he even got the entire story.

One of them audibly gulped as their blood drained from their face, while the other stuttered an explanation. "N-No! We f-found this dog attached w-with a leash right in front of the building, and there was this attached to its collar," they said as they handed the executive a wrinkled piece of paper which, upon further inspection, turned out to hold an uncanny resemblance to a napkin from a nearby fast food place.

On it, there were an assortment of dots which were ink being pressed hard onto the fabric. Braille, he concluded. This person seemed not only to have specifically destined this to him, but desired to keep the contents for him only, rather than have someone read it for him.

On it, he managed to decipher the following:

'Dear Saigay,        Thanks for not trying to kill me!! I'm certain you're just a big softie heheh.         The doc told me I shouldn't be moving around too much after those wounds you gifted me, so now I'm kinda on house arrest lolol. Either way, I'd've loved to thank you personally but can't so I got you a present, its name is undecided yet BUTTTTTT they're a bitch just like you so I called them saigay jr. for the time being ♡ plus I figured you never had a guide dog, right?? So here you go!  XD

p.s. you never told me what kind of drink you liked. was I right about the whiskey? pls tell me!! i'll recover properly then find you, so you better have an answer by then >:( p.p.s. heheh peepee s p.p.p.s. you still haven't told me why your hair is dyed p.p.p.p.s. SAIGAY JR HAS YOUR MISSING EARRING BTW!!'

What on earth-

He certainly was no longer angry at this weird dog, but at the owner.

What made it worse was that the two kids had finally gotten over their fear of him and started calming down the dog (which he was not going to called Saigay Jr., much less Saigiku Jr.), noticing the earring; it was only a clip on that was obviously made up of cardboard clippings and poorly colored insides, as well as engravings that he could physically feel and recognize, but the resemblance to his own was noticeable. He wondered if this was an insult from [l/n] disguised as a present, but decided that there were too many exclamation marks for this to be anything resembling a threat. Not to mention the "XD".

Now, he had to figure out the dog. It's too much noise and too much effort, besides he doesn't like dogs all that much. He supposed he'll just have to snatch off that wretched earring and dispose of it before anyone makes the link and this haunts him, then kick it out. Surely it'll wander back off to its home or whatever. None of what followed would be his concern.

"Jouno s-sama, what should we do with the dog?" uneasily asked the kid. He shook his head, snatched the makeshift earring in one fell swoop and crumbled it into a ball in his hand.

"Take it outside, it isn't mine and I don't care about it. This was just a prank from someone I know."

With this, Saigay Jr. was released back onto the street, the collar still coated with braille dots that spell out its name.

.

.

.

.

.

Once work was done, he decided to go for a walk, for some fresh air. However, Jouno was not expecting to hear panting coming from his side.

Saigay Jr. barked at him, happily wagging their tail and bouncing on their paws.

"What is wrong with you," he swore under his breath, then made his tone much vocal. "Go away! I don't want you here!"

None of this, obviously, got across to the dog, who was still following him closely.

"I said go away!" he yelled, a bit louder but also significantly harsher. "Stupid bitch."

It somehow reacted differently, barking much more avidly and skipping over to him with apparent excitement.

At this rate, he'd never get rid of the dog. He contemplated calling the pound and having someone take them in, but knew that this was likely an unnecessary step to take. Regardless, he'd have to get rid of it soon. All this barking is going to make him dizzy soon.

The sounds subsided as it transitioned from growling to a soft whine, choosing to lay down. It was then that he noticed a certain odor that he hadn't paid attention to before.

...Blood?

He almost could've sworn the dog was injured.

Jouno decided that it was not his concern and left it there, on the street, alone.

.

.

.

.

.

The dog was certainly a stubborn little thing, as it was there when he came to work the next day.

He took out his gun, shot it in the air (loud noises hurt him a lot, but he knew the same applied to the animal) and hummed contently as it scurried off out of fear, out of his life.

.

.

.

.

.

Saigay Jr. came back the very next day.

"Oh, will you fuck off already?" he groaned, taking out his gun yet again to fire a warning shot. Of course, he wasn't going to actually kill the beast, but he was reaching a point where he was very well considering it.

He stopped himself as he heard it whine, then lower itself to the ground, almost bowing to him in a human fashion.

"I'm not keeping you. [l/n] should've just left you in the dump where they found you," he said, realizing that he was talking to a literal dog.

He reached his hand out with a sigh, and began to pet it. This clearly made the dog calm down significantly, as it was finally getting recognition from the one it believed to be its owner, and so it didn't noticed as he curled his fingers around the leash, detached the ends of the collar then used it to attach the canine to a post.

As soon as it realized its situation, it began to growl, barking aggressively at him, then pouting and almost seeming like it was about to cry. Jouno didn't care, however, as he took out his burner phone and dialed animal patrol.

.

.

.

.

.

Somehow, by some un-abiding law of the universe, Saigay Jr. was there, sitting happily, waiting for him outside of the building in which he operated.

Its leg and arm seemed to be getting better, he could tell, which made it likely that it wouldn't stop coming back to annoy him.

"It's like a miniature [l/n]," he laughed to himself.

Over time, he'd almost began to enjoy his daily encounters with the animal. He found it almost enjoyable to pet and ruffle its soft fur, eliciting the pleasant reaction of a calm dog.

Today, he decided, he would stop pushing it away. It's Houdini, this mynx, a Houdini who refused to disappear and could get out of any trap he laid for it.

"First off," he crouched down, stroking its ear, "ground rules. You are not my dog. I'm doing this to see if it'll get rid of you once you get bored with me. Got it?"

Ears drooping, Saigay Jr. seemed to be saying, "aww, but I wanted to be your dog!", to which Jouno replied with a look that said, "Don't make me get up and leave."

"Second rule, keep your piss and shit away from me, I'm not touching or smelling any of that. Third, you do as I tell you to. Understood?"

He wasn't expecting the dog to nod, but would've liked seeing it react other than burrowing its head further into the palm of his hand. Reluctantly, Jouno didn't resist, and sat there entertaining its need for physical touch for a few moments before springing to his feet.

"I'm going home. You are not allowed in my house," he warned, turning around.

Saigay Jr. followed him home anyways.

Somehow, as the day turned into night, he found himself helpless when it comes to resistance against this dog. It was thankfully very unproblematic, not making much of a mess when they arrived to the apartment which he lived in (it wasn't his, evidently. The criminal organization he worked for simply scared off all the tenants and let their members live there, unofficially.) He gestured to a corner for it to stay while he settled down, and stuck there for as long as he told it to.

As he took care of his own affairs, the time to rest finally came, and the dog didn't appear to have any plans to depart from its new best friend.

"Leave," he repeated forcefully, pointing to the door left ajar for it to crawl outside. "I said leave."

The message seemed to be getting across, as Saigay Jr. finally began to trek towards the entrance.

Then, it used its snout to shut the door, returning promptly and sitting down in front of him, waiting for some kind of reward.

"I'd really wish you'd die right now," he threw a hand on his face, tilting it upwards to display his frustration. "Fine. Let's play this the hard way."

He walked outside his apartment, knowing that the dog would follow, and shut the door behind them both. With a smirk, he activated his ability, disintegrating into the smallest specks and re-entering the room while sifting through the openings on the side of the door.

This way, he was back inside while the animal was whining from the outside, scratching occasionally to ask him to let them back in.

"Absolutely not," he laughed proudly, tossing himself into bed, trying to will himself to fall asleep before he'd begin to feel guilt about leaving the diligent and loyal gift from [l/n] outside.

A click, a creak and a shuffle later, and he heard a very clear panting noise.

Saigay Jr. had somehow managed to get inside.

"Fuck, you know what? I don't care anymore," groaned the tired man. "I give up. You win."

As he let himself doze off, the dog had crawled up onto the bed and softly laid its head on his chest, breathing steadily.

Jouno wouldn't admit that the sound and feeling was a nice change to his norm.

.

.

.

.

.

At this point, Jouno had practically adopted Saigay Jr.

He didn't hear anything from [l/n], which he found odd since it had been over 6 months since he'd last seen them. He knew that he shouldn't be thinking about them; he'd only known the peculiar individual for a grand total of about 3 encounters, one of which he hadn't even interacted with them and the other two being attempted kidnapping and murder. The white-haired man knew that the only reason their image stuck in his head was due to this dog, this constant reminder of them, on top of their boisterous personality that he could've swore made him look at people like him (who had little to no personality, all business and no fun, as they might've said) differently.

The dog was a weird new addition to his life as well. He'd never seen it eat nor require to be walked. In fact, their relationship had gotten to the point where he was becoming more and more eager to be in its company; he woke up with Saigay Jr. (whose name he couldn't bring himself to change nor get out of his head), the both of them walked to his work, and then when he was done with his daily torturing, the loyal animal was waiting for him at the door of his apartment. He occasionally let it sleep in his bed, but mostly it found a small corner on the couch where both of them seemed content. It was a particularly odd situation; Jouno did not like pets. In fact, he didn't like people, so why would he expose himself to this small, fluffy thing for daily companionship? He didn't know, but found that there was no need to question a mutually beneficial situation.

Today, however, something odd had happened.

Saigay Jr. was not waiting in front of his door when he got back, covered in the heavy smell of blood for today's session was especially... artistic.

"Junior?" he found himself calling out, a name he never had the need to say out loud due to their chemistry. Yet, there seemed to be no movement nearby.

Weird, he thought, but there's no need to make a big deal out of this. The animal probably had to attend to its animal business, or whatever. Maybe the meeting that they always attend while he's at work was running late, he humored himself.

A few hours later, and nothing happened, no one showed up scratching at his front door or barking at it. He'd told himself that he was going to keep going on with his day as if nothing happened, but sleep was difficult to find because of the nagging feeling that something wasn't right.

It was then that he heard a knock at his door.

Not a scratch, but a knock.

He grabbed the firearm from the drawer next to his bed, and greeted the guest with a smile as he unlocked the door cautiously.

"Saigay!!"

He couldn't believe it; [l/n] was standing at his door.

"Sorry, sorry, I know this is sudden but at least be glad you were wearing pants when I knocked on the door," they spoke casually, letting themselves into his apartment and spreading themselves on the couch like they'd been living there for a while, in a particularly odd way that eerily resembled that of his dog, "but I was running late since my dad was telling me that I should come clean about this whole thing and bla bla, y'know that old man wisdom? You seem like you know what old geezers think. Anyways, Dad was givin' me the lecture and whatnot, so I told him that since I was mostly recovered, I might as well come and say hi without barking."

"Without... barking?"

He squinted his eyes even further as he tried to make sense of this.

"So you didn't gift me a dog, you..."

"Were the dog? Yup! The name's actually Soseki [y/n], and I've been a spy at [c /o/n] for about a year or two, can't remember too well since my time was cut short by a certain injury some pretty asshole gave me. Annoying, ain't it? I hate getting shot at. Being a dog is so much easier."

"You lied," he said, trying not to panic from the fact that he had been sharing his life for quite some time with another person in disguise, "when you said you didn't have an ability."

"Of course! Isn't that what everyone does? People lie tons, like when you told 'Saigay Jr.' that you didn't have a ticklish spot, only for me to find out that you have sensitive ears and chest. Very ticklish, especially when you think no one is watching."

He felt the blood rushing to his face while he swallowed dryly. What else had he done accidentally in all that time? He couldn't possibly have kept track of everything.

"Aw, he blushes," they laughed, tapping his nose before he could recover. "Relax, I'm not out to get you. I thought you were interesting and cute when you kidnapped me, so I thought I'd put you to the test for a bit while I recovered from my injuries. Okay, not so much a test, per se, but I wanted to hang out with you. I had a feeling you were lonely, and I was right!"

Heartbroken wasn't the right word to describe how he felt; what was running through his mind was a hellish mixture of embarrassment and fear of vulnerability. It's the sensation one feels when one is deceived and looks back on it, wondering how they could've been so foolish. He should've known, he kept telling himself.

"I get that you probably feel humiliated. Dad says that most people do, so I've just gotta smile and remind them that I've got a terrible memory," they laughed, reading his mind. "Maybe once you get over it you'll come to realize that I wasn't lying about wanting your friendship."

With a timid smile, nothing like what their usual bubbly personality would typically make, they bowed gently to him, seemed to consider leaning in to hug him, then decided that this all would be too much at once.

[y/n] left, hesitantly adding, "Same place... tomorrow?"

.

.

.

.

.

Why had Jouno showed up at the bar where they had originally been introduced, all those months ago, when he'd been so foolishly deceived?

Perhaps it was as he kept repeating in his head, that he was there to pick up the pieces of his torn dignity. Or maybe it was to finally kill them and receive the reward on their head.

Or was it to accept their offer?

He reassured himself that he couldn't possibly, that people were terrible and he couldn't let himself get soft with this one or else he'd become mushy and weak. He wasn't sure what terrified him so much about that idea, but he didn't even consider it as an option.

As always, the bells jingled as he entered, but there was no shout of his mispronounced name.

Nevertheless, he took a seat at the counter, ordering the whiskey not because he wanted some, but because he subconsciously attributed it to this location and time, despite not having an overwhelming number of memories here. He supposed that certain memories can be short but impact you more than you could ever fathom.

Even while he waited, he'd began to feel the pit of his stomach drop, like he had a cavity in his chest in place of a soul. Jouno hadn't realized up until now how accustomed he'd grown to a persistent joyful presence in his life, be it [y/n] under human or canine form.

The waiter returned, placing his order against the counter, and murmuring in a melodic voice, "I didn't expect you to come."

He didn't have to glance upwards to know it was [y/n], and so kept his gaze downcast.

"I'd say I'm sorry but I don't quite see anything to apologize for," they said, taking a sip out of his drink, lips lingering at the rim of the glass. "I had a lot of fun in the past few months, haven't you? My approach might've been a bit cruel, but think of it as Karma for shooting me, twice. This way, we're even! Wha'd'ya say? We good?"

Jouno's mouth betrayed him as he snatched the cup from them, chugged it all down at once, then said, "yeah, why not?"

Immediately, their heart rate sped up from excitement, and they leapt across the counter to trap him in a bear hug. Trying to resist but knowing there was no point, he eventually melted into their embrace.

Pulling away, they giddily babbled, "Okay, so now that you've forgiven me, I feel like it's a great time to mention that I've seen you strip multiple times and I would've told you that it was weird to change your clothes in front of a dog but I didn't know how to tell you or look away without acting weird so I just went with it and I feel like maybe I should compliment your stellar abs while I'm rambling like this but complimenting you will probably not do much good so how about I just offer you another drink and we forget this whole thing?"

Jouno cursed under his breath, nearly chuckling but not quite, realizing that they were right. "Fuck, what else did I do?"

"Well, I've got to tell you that your snoring is adorable, but you roll a lot in your sleep and that, mister, is something we need to take care of."

For the first time since he could remember, Jouno laughed a genuine laugh, not laced with malice or sugarcoated, as he listened to [y/n] vividly recounting their numerous embarrassing tales of him, only to be teased back for their dog habits like the panting and tail wagging. He'd've thought that the drinks were making him loose, but [y/n] had actually told the waiter to give them both multiple shots of apple juice.

As the night progressed, Jouno slowly found out that he'd opened himself up a lot more than he was comfortable admitting. Yet, this made him both want to retreat and lock [y/n] out of his life and invite them into his daily rituals, to never let them go. On the other hand, [y/n] had always found him to be a wonderful person, and only became further entranced as they watched him operate on a daily basis.

Somehow, Sweet fell in love with Sour, and Sour fell in love with Sweet.

.

.

.

.

.

Another set of months later, Jouno returned from a particular mission given to him in the middle of the night, exhausted, ready to do nothing expect collapse onto the bed and sleep.

He was practically dragging his feet as he approached the door of his apartment, inserted the keys lazily and opened it. As always, his partner called out for him.

"Sai!" they said, skipping up to the door and noticing his beat up expression. "Damn, what did they force you to do this time?"

He shook his head before burying it into the crook of their neck and letting his hands dangle by their side. "The guy I had to interrogate was an opera singer, lungs of fucking steel." Strands of his hair were brushing by their skin, and his lips were murmuring against the warmth. "He wouldn't stop screaming my ears off, even with the gag."

Unable to contain their laughter, they poorly comforted him with a rub on the back while shaking from giggles. "My poor baby, today hasn't been your day, has it?"

Almost like handling an infant, they snuck their arms under his own and half-carried him to the bedroom. Getting in with him and tenderly placing a kiss on his cheek, [y/n] traced out random features on his face with their fingertip, hoping to soothe his body with touch.

"You smell terribly by the way," they said sarcastically in a deep sultry voice. "Do I kick you out to sleep on the couch or are you gonna take a shower? I can smell the blood on you, darling."

Half-asleep already, he slurred a, "Tomorrow...", followed by, "It's not my fault you've got the nose of a dog."

"You aren't any better," [y/n] teased, rolling over on top of him and kissing his sensitive lips with the delicacy of a flower blooming in spring snow.

"Just... let me sleep," he groaned, waving them away like a fly, only to have his hand caught by their own.

"Mnn, fine," murmured the [h/c] haired individual, gazing at him softly with heavy eyelids, as mesmerized with him as always. "Want something fluffy to snuggle into?"

"No, stay the way you are."

With another kiss that lasted a bit longer and in which Jouno participated weakly, [y/n] rolled back and cradled his head, bringing it onto their chest.

"'Night, [y/n]," he managed to say, shifting himself so that he was curled up against their figure. After a brief pause, he shuffled himself again under the covers, resting his head on their body. With their chest steadily rising and falling in sync with their consistent breathing, he found that he slept so much better.

They smiled gently.

"Goodnight, Saigiku."

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #saigiku jouno #jouno saigiku #bsd jouno #jouno bsd #jouno x reader #bsd x reader #jouno bsd x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #jouno x reader bsd

[torturedpoetemotions]

Stede Bonnet Deep Dive

(aka repository for all the fucks I refuse to give to all the terrible takes on this hellsite after season 2)

I decided to do a deep dive into Stede's character finally, because I keep seeing the absolute WORST takes about him since season two aired.

I'll preface this by saying I don't agree with the majority of the negative or critical takes I've seen about season 2. I don't think the harsh readings of Stede's character are based in a good faith or often even in a sensible reading of the source material. And I don't have the time or inclination to spend all my time refuting bad Stede takes on tumblr, so this one meta in explanation and defense of my goofy little guy will have to suffice.

This is not a carefully crafted piece of creative writing. This is basic five paragraph essay shit, but with way more paragraphs. Claim, supports, transition, repeat to conclusion. Don't say I didn't warn you!

First off, no, Stede is not the villain of this story.

Yes, that's a take someone actually put into my notifications with their full chest. By no definition of the word is Stede positioned as a villain in this story, and he isn't even a compelling case for an accidental villain. This show has done a wonderful job of setting down clear and specific criteria for what makes a character villainous or not in a fictional world operating on a very different moral and ethical framework from our own. And while you could maybe argue Stede would be a pretty bad guy by real world standards, to be this is a moot point. By that measure every character in the show is a pretty bad guy. It's a nearly useless metric.

Within the show, villains are people with privilege and power who use that power to harm others and refuse to change for the better. Stede begins the story with an immense amount of privilege and power and gives all which is in his power to give up at the end of season 1. He gains a different kind of power in season 2 and by the end of season 2, he's relinquished that as well. He rarely uses his power to hurt people, and never does he intentionally seek to hurt innocent people for no reason. That isn't to say no innocent people GET hurt. But he's never trying to hurt people unless they've hurt or threatened the people he cares about. He in fact uses the power he has to stand up for the people he loves, repeatedly.

From the very beginning, he uses his wealth and power to create a space where he, and by extension everyone on his crew, has the space to be themselves. In 1x05 he uses his class privilege and knowledge to punish the partygoers who denigrated Ed simply for not being "one of them." In 1x08 he uses his power as captain to stand up for Buttons against Jack's callous cruelty and remove him from the ship after Karl is killed.

In 2x03 he uses his relative familiarity with Zheng Yi Sao (second only to Olu in terms of members of his crew who have any such familiarity) to plead mercy for Ed's crew. In 2x05 he uses his position as Captain to convince the crew to give Ed a second chance, while also hearing and working to address and mitigate their concerns as much as possible. In 2x06 he takes the responsibility for rescuing his own crew from Ned Low, negotiates a peaceful resolution with his crew, and punishes only Ned as the admitted and obvious orchestrator of the attack and torture of his crew. In 2x07, he doesn't start picking fights to show how big and bad he is. The only two people he shows any violence toward at all are someone walking toward him with the stated intention to kill him and someone poaching a third of his crew right before his eyes.

These aren't the wanton abuses of power characteristic of a villain. These are the understandable actions of someone who feels a lot of attachment and responsibility for the people around him.

No, Stede is not a cruel person who likes hurting people.

Jesus fucking Christ. Like I get that we all have our favorites, but I swear to god some of y'all think that means that you need to turn every other character into pure evil just to justify your character's existence. This isn't even remotely true.

Stede does NOT like hurting people. He hates hurting people, in fact, often even when they kind of deserve it. He really hates it when they obviously don't deserve it! Nothing he does in all of season one is motivated by a desire to harm other people. Yes, even piracy.

Stede enters the show with a very romanticized view of piracy. The violence isn't the point for him, the point is adventure and wanderlust, and possibly primarily, escape. Escape from the confines of a life he didn't ask for and has never wanted. Escape from a marriage he didn't choose and didn't want to be part of. Escape from the rigid strictures of a social structure that doesn't make room for people like him (whether we're talking about his queerness or his neurodivergence). The point is to create a space where he can be himself, and then extend that to others as well. If I wanted to get real sad, I'd say the point is the hope that by creating such a space, he will finally find people willing to tolerate him, or even be his friends.

He also doesn't leave Mary or his children to hurt them. He leaves them because Mary makes it clear they won't be going with him, and he knows he can't bear to stay. And he's riddled with guilt about it, it's not something he looks back on with pride or with glee.

And let's get real dark for a second and acknowledge: for a man in Stede's time and position, if he was actually a cruel person who enjoyed hurting people and he wanted to hurt his wife and children? There would be very little if anything to stop him from doing exactly that. If he wanted his children and his wife to live in fear of his cruelty, he could do that without consequences. But the one instance where he does something that does make Mary afraid--attacking Doug in 1x10--is something he does on instinct and immediately regrets, apologizes for, and feels awful about. He then goes a step further to continue making amends with both Doug and Mary for the rest of the episode.

And that's another thing: Stede's reaction to finding out he's hurt someone is to be upset by that, and then to try and rectify it immediately. When Lucius calls him out for not asking how he is, Stede immediately re-engages with him and starts looking after his well-being, encouraging him to talk about what's bothering him and not to shut out the people who love him. When Ed tells him how much Stede leaving without a word hurt him, Stede accepts that and tries to correct Ed's assumption that it's because he, Ed, wasn't enough or wasn't cared about. When Ed voices uncertainty and regrets about the pace of their relationship, Stede--though quite obviously hurt by what he thinks Ed is saying--immediately puts his focus on making Ed feel secure again, telling him this relationship can be whatever they want it to be.

Now, Stede gets a lot of flak for his reaction to Ed's fishing job news, but let's be real here: it IS incredibly random. It comes out of nowhere and genuinely makes not a lick of damn sense. And it's a wild thing to drop on someone you've been building a relationship with, a wild thing to have decided in a single afternoon before you've even talked to them about it. I'm not going to take Stede too harshly to task for not reacting perfectly seflessly there. It doesn't erase all the times when he DID react by immediately putting the other person's feelings in focus. And those aren't the actions of someone who enjoys hurting people and revels in cruelty to those around him.

Hell, Stede doesn't even revel in hurting people who've actually done something to warrant it, most of the time. Stede isn't excited or gloating about killing one of his childhood bullies in 1x01. He's horrified by what he's done. He wasn't even trying to kill him! He was going for the "stun move." He's so racked with guilt for it the entire season that he hallucinates the man berating him. He takes clear pleasure in manipulating the French partygoers and turning their own game against them, but he's still primarily motivated by making Ed feel better (and fine, that's his one time out of ten, I guess). He also takes no joy in Chauncy's death, in fact he's horrified and traumatized by it. The Badmintons are two people who tormented him throughout his childhood, but he shows an incredible amount of regret and guilt about both their deaths, especially considering Chauncy's really wasn't his fault in any possible way.

The final scene with Chauncy on its own would counter the idea that Stede likes hurting people! Stede is distraught by the thought that he hurts people, sobbing about it in fact. He doesn't leave Ed to hurt him! He leaves Ed because he thinks that is IS hurting him, and wants to stop.

Even Ned Low in 2x06 is not something Stede savors or revels in. Sure, he enjoys the fame it brings, later on. But he doesn't kill Ned in service of that, and he doesn't revel in killing Ned. He isn't smiling, gloating, or smug when he does it. He's deadly serious, and protective of the people he loves, in a pretty blatant mirror of his confrontation with Jack in 1x08. And even once it's done, he doesn't derive satisfaction from it. He's blatantly and obviously distraught by it, flashing back to one of his most traumatic childhood memories. It's the rest of the crew that cheer when he pushes Ned overboard. Stede is silent except for excusing himself to go to his quarters. When he pulls Ed into the room a few minutes later, there are tears in his eyes and his expression is well...agonized, frankly.

Stede's also quick to forgive even pretty serious transgressions against himself, like Ed plotting to burn his face off in 1x06 or Izzy selling him out to the navy in 1x09 (yes, there was a time gap there, but Stede began acting friendlier toward Izzy and showing concern for him basically as soon as he realized Ed wasn't actually dead). That's not the behavior of someone cruel who enjoys hurting people, either.

Yeah, Stede revels in piracy and doesn't have big compunctions about hurting people who threaten him or hurt the people he loves. I'd say the latter, at least, is true for a lot of people even in real life. And as for the former, well. If we're going to say Stede is cruel for enjoying being a pirate, I think we'd have to throw a lot of other characters into the cruel pile, too. Like almost all of them.

Stede is not lacking in care for the members of his crew.

I've already written an entire meta on this, so I'll just link that here and reiterate that if this were true, at minimum, Jim, Frenchie, Izzy, Fang, and Archie would all be dead.

So he's not a villain, or cruel on purpose, or careless.

So who is Stede Bonnet, actually?

Stede at his worst is somewhat thoughtless and oblivious. We see this throughout both seasons, but it's far more prominent in season one. Stede at his best is generous and gracious and forgiving and kind. Stede when provoked acts to protect himself and those he loves without hesitation or pulling any punches, as already referenced several times in this meta.

Stede is, textually, canonically, a gay man forced into marriage with someone he couldn't love who also couldn't love him. Stede is a survivor of a childhood filled with emotional abuse at the hands of his father and physical abuse at the hands of his peers. He does not know how to reach out to people, both because nobody ever reached out to him and because any attempts at all that he did make were met with the kind of shit we saw from Nigel, Chauncey, and his father.

But Stede wants, so very much and so obviously, to have people to be kind to and generous and loving with. Look at how eagerly and excitedly he opens up to Ed, when he sees Ed meeting him with interest instead of mockery or scorn in 1x04. Look how readily he shares his things with Ed and with the crew throughout season 1. In fact he voluntarily left an economic system where it was acceptable for him to hoard wealth for himself, and entered into a system where it was expected for him to share any and all spoils among his crewmates. He loves to share things with people! He loves to try new things with them and show them new things. He's so eager to have any kind of friend.

Stede also begins learning almost immediately how to reach out to people, once he has an environment where he feels secure doing it. And he loves doing it! He'll even do things he doesn't like to make someone else happy, like take Ed to a party he really, really wants to go to even though Stede knows it will be awful (1x05).

He is quick to take feedback and course correct when someone points out to him that he's been hurtful to them or wronged them, like with Lucius in 2x02. Arguably this would also apply to Izzy egging him on to do the fuckery in 1x06. Izzy appealed to his sense of obligation ("I stuck my neck out for you") and his affection for Ed ("he adores you") and it worked! It worked because Stede cares about other people, about their feelings and their needs and wants, and what they think of him. He cares so, so much.

He has flaws, too, of course. As stated, he can be thoughtless and oblivious. He's new to having friends, and new to love, and he makes a lot of mistakes. But he also corrects those mistakes, once he realizes them or they're pointed out to him. And it rarely takes much urging. If anything, Stede's more stubborn when he knows he's right in a situation, but even when he's technically right, he ultimately prioritize other people's feelings (as with the probably-not-actually-cursed suit in 2x05).

He's a goof. And he loves beautiful things. But he's not the entitled, lazy shit his father accuses him of being. He doesn't have a lot of physical or combat skills, but he can learn those skills simply by doing it enough. We see this in season one with how he gets better at getting on and off the ship over time. He's also great at putting a positive spin or an optimistic face on difficult things. We see this with how he treats the patrons who come into Jackie's in 2x01, and also with how he approaches challenges throughout the season. He's someone who, nine times out of ten, looks on the bright side and tries to problem solve, rather than despairing.

He's much more skilled when it comes to coming up with and executing plans, even on the fly...something we see throughout the show. First with getting into piracy in the first place. Then with his first defeat of Izzy in 1x03. Then there's the quickly thought up and delightfully executed revenge on the French partygoers in 1x05, the quite ridiculous but ultimately successful fuckery in 1x06. The fuckery to fake his death in 1x10!

This characterization carries over into season 2, with Stede's nearly successful execution of a robbery at Jackie's in 2x01. In fact that likely would have gone off without a hitch if it hadn't been for Ricky's nonsense, and ultimately did put Stede and his crew in a much better position than they were before regardless. Then in 2x03, he planned the escape of his and Ed's crews and it went off beautifully!

He came up with the plan to escape Ned Low and his crew in 2x06 literally second to second, improvising on the fly as the situation developed until he and his crew were safe again. He successfully got the drop on the two British soldiers in 2x08, he just couldn't actually fight two well-trained men on his own. And it was his plan, ultimately, that got his crew and ship out of an entirely besieged and surrounded Republic of Pirates.

(That plan did not go off without a hitch, to tragic results. But I don't think that overrides Stede's skills in this area. Many of his plans do not end perfectly, but they end remarkably well given the odds. And given the odds he was presented with, the numbers they were up against? One single casualty is wildly successful (even if I'm wailing and gnashing my teeth about it and will be unless and until David and Co. fix it in season 3).)

And finally--and this is the one single gripe I have with the season, that Stede and Ed both said this and seem to actually believe it--this man is not fucking whim-proned. Ed. Ed is fucking whim-proned. That's a pretty core element of his personality, actually. And it's not always a bad thing, and sometimes it's quite fun. But Stede? No. Stede isn't whim-proned. Stede is motivated. Stede is decisive. Stede is tunnel-visioned, perhaps. But he actually doesn't just change up his entire life on a whim. He makes a decision about what he wants, once he realizes he can actually do that, and then he fucking sticks to it like a mosquito in tree sap.

He decided he wanted to become a pirate, so he took the time, expense, and effort required to commission a ship, have it built, outfit it with supplies, and hire a crew. He realized he was in love with Ed and rowed a dinghy from Barbados to wherever the fuck (if you go with history it was Topsail Island, which is nearly three thousand fucking miles away), rejoined his crew, and set about working in a place he was miserable, trying to slowly save enough scraps of money to buy a ship to get back to his beloved. He wrote Ed letters, it's implied every day while they were at Jackie's. He had his goal, and he didn't stop working toward his goal until it was met and they were back together. And once they were back together, he didn't quit just because Ed didn't "melt back into his arms," and--*gesticulates wildly at all of season 2*.

Where Stede thinks he's whim-prone has less to do with caprice and more to do with trauma responses. Every single time we see him do something impulsive, it's as a response to something traumatic. Braining Nigel with the paperweight? Impulse in response to Nigel triggering memories of his childhood bullying. Running back home? Impulse in response to being dragged out of bed at gunpoint, having every single one of your deepest fears and insecurities thrown at you, and then watching the person throwing them basically prove them true by shooting himself in the face trying to kill you. Pulling Ed into his room? Impulse in response to the trauma of being invaded, tortured, watching Ed and all their friends be tortured, and thinking they were going to die (and yeah killing Ned too).

All of this to say...Stede has layers, y'all. He's got good and bad points. He's got strengths and many, many weaknesses. But he is in no way the one-dimensional mustache-twirling villain or bumbling total incompetent id-driven asshat people are trying to paint him as for whatever ridiculous reason.

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #ofmd meta #my meta