Tumgik
#// this AU is terrible but i'm excited to put it into use
nariism · 3 months
Text
wherever you are, wherever you may be — i. rin
soulmates (name au) + "i'm done waiting."
synopsis. itoshi rin meets you under a sky full of fireworks. he spends the next 6 years of his life trying to convince himself that he doesn't love you. you spend the next 6 years giving him every reason why he should.
wc. 12.4k (i need to close my eyes and sleep for a while)
notes. huge thank you to ellie (@hyomagiri) and mari (@saetoshi) for helping me with this 🥹 this fic actually put me through it and i'm so grateful to both of them for their support 💗
— for my beloved @ode2rin 💐 | event masterlist ✉️
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2024
Every year on the seventh day of the seventh month, Itoshi Rin finds himself standing at the daunting entrance to his local shrine.
The tradition is completely beneath him—something childish that he grumbles about under his breath despite letting you drag him all the way out here with soft eyes watching your smile.
Tanabata is the festival of stars. Of love.
It is a story his mother used to whisper to him as they watched the night sky in awe, pretending that the galaxy was collapsing in on itself to allow for a romantic midnight rendezvous between two lovers.
It’s something far too sappy for his liking.
But the food is okay, he supposes, and it’s a good opportunity to get out of the house and spend time with you which he seldom has time to do now that he’s back in his training season.
There were too many things about it that he loathed: the screaming children that would bump into his legs; the way his ears would stay ringing for days after the festival ended; how you could always convince him to come as if you were some sort of hypnotic devil in disguise, and how thoroughly wounded his pride would be at that fact.
However, his least favourite part of the festival by far is writing down his wish for the year on a scrap piece of paper and hanging it around a bamboo tree. One, because he can never for the life of him think of anything meaningful to wish for. And two, because he isn’t sure he even believes in that sort of thing.
Rin is struggling again this year, pencil lightly scratching his temple as he thinks.
He’s painfully aware that he’s never put so much thought into this before, but you seemed so excited to come all the way here before heading to the festivities that he couldn’t possibly let you down.
His wish dawns on him then, something he wants to do before the next time he makes the climb all the way back up here 365 days from now.
“Hey,” your voice calls out quietly. “What did you wish for?”
“What did you wish for?” Rin quickly refutes.
You cast your narrowed eyes from the side, tilting your little slip of yellow paper away from him.
“Only if I get to see yours first.”
Normally, he would give in to you right away. His resolve when it comes to you is embarrassingly weak. But there’s no way for him to explain himself. No way he could show you the words he’s written lest he hurt his ego.
He stubbornly folds up the piece of paper and shoves your face away. All you do is laugh and he feels terribly warm.
“No peeking,” he tells you when you kiss across his fingertips.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2018
A name appeared for Itoshi Rin when he turned thirteen years old.
He remembers the day well—it was hard to forget, anyway. As much as he wanted to focus on the burning of the name etching its way down his skin, he couldn’t. Not when he was blinking snow out of his lashes and watching his brother’s retreating back.
Rin likes to think that the universe fucks with him in any way that it can.
Maybe he had done something terrible in his past life and this was its karmic retribution, or maybe he was just unlucky.
What he does know is this: the name on his pinky only reminds him of all the things he ever lost.
Every syllable struck needles into his heart—a painful memory of crawling after the tracks of the wheels Sae left behind with his luggage until gravel and ice were stuck under his nails. Or worse, the clawing of his throat as they sat across from each other at dinner—the way he didn't even smile when Rin announced to his parents that his soulmate mark had appeared while his mother cried out in joy.
In fact, Sae didn’t talk to him for the rest of his visit. He remembers that hurt the most.
The name had haunted him for all the remaining years of his life—a forced memory that he wished he could forget. There came with it a feeling of loneliness that crushed him despite the proof on his pinky that there was another soul wandering the earth that would fix him.
He refused to believe it.
Only revenge would fix him. Only proving himself better would heal the cracks in his heart. Only beating Sae. Sae, Sae, Sae. His brother’s name had been repeated so many times that it was easy to ignore the other burning his skin.
In all those years he found it easy to cast aside his soulmate. To ignore it even if it hurt.
So he wonders why it’s so bad tonight.
He’s done everything he could think of: slathering cooling ointment down his finger to stop the searing, wrapping it in a cast to prevent himself from admiring it for too long, even tying a wish to a piece of bamboo hoping it would disappear.
A finger snaps in front of his face, drawing his attention to his teammates in front of him. Both look equally amused.
“You’re dreaming,” Isagi muses. “You’ve been spacing out all night. Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” Rin mutters, swatting his teammate’s hand away from him. He had been staring again, longingly eyeing the way the letters danced down his skin. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“None of your business.”
“Yeesh, it’s not good to keep things bottled up, you know?”
“You’re annoying,” Rin glowers before it melts back into indifference. “I’m fine,” he reiterates.
Isagi seems unconvinced, as he usually is when Rin is being mysteriously vague about what’s on his mind. He and Bachira share a tentative glance before sighing and shaking their heads.
“Well… okay,” he finally yields. “We’re going to get some snacks before the fireworks start. If you’re going to sulk then at least stay put and do it here so we can find you again.”
“Yeah,” Rin grumbles, already making an escape plan. “Whatever. Will do.”
As soon as the boys are out of sight, he turns heel and hurries away. The crowd is driving him crazy and he needs somewhere quiet so he can stare at his hands until his eyes are dry.
He comes to a pond situated just outside of the festival grounds, deep water glimmering under the moon and the passing lanterns.
Plopping down on the bench, he hunches over onto his knees with his elbows and takes a deep breath. It instead comes shallow, as if someone has just punched him in the gut. 
It’s then that he realizes he’s not alone.
Your yukata is muddy, fabric soaked and dripping at the sleeves though you don’t seem to care or even notice. You look frustrated for some reason, lip curled into a concentrated frown while you plunge your hands into the mud around the edge of the water.
Away from the crowds of people, he can hear the summer song of cicadas chirping all around. Your hands dip in and out of the water, quiet splashes filling the rest of the silence on top of the distant buzz of children laughing.
It’s just you and him. Something primal inside of him rages, pounding against his chest until it feels like he’s suffocating.
Run. Run. Run.
His legs jerk, urging him to stand up and leave, but he feels glued down to the bench—tethered where he sits and forced to watch you repeatedly sink your hands into the muddy waters.
No more than five minutes must pass as you both ignore each other, yet it feels like an eternity stretches by. 
Finally, you pipe up.
“You’re scaring them,” you tell him plainly.
His head whips in your direction at your voice, soft and careful. His teal eyes narrow at you. “Huh?”
Your frown deepens, turning to look at him with your hands still submerged. “The frogs.”
“Come again?”
“Your vibes. It’s scaring the frogs away.”
His eye twitches.
“Ever consider that you’re just dogshit at catching them?”
“Excuse me?”
“And look at you, making a total mess of yourself. Don’t you care that you have to go home looking like that?” He presses, leering at you like an insect he’s about to crush under his heel. You simply stare at him, expression blank.
Huffing, you tear away from him and sink your hands beneath the mud. “No. I don’t.”
He watches in silence as you sift around for a moment before pulling your hands up, a smile slowly morphing into your face.
“I got one…” You breathe, looking more elated than he thinks you should. “I really caught one.”
“First time?” He quips sarcastically. A part of him wonders why he hasn’t gotten up and left you altogether yet.
“Cut me some slack,” you complain, eyeing him from the side again. You gently run a finger along the back of the frog, trying not to scare it away. “I haven’t done this in forever.”
“Clearly.”
You snort. “Yeah. Clearly.”
Rin looks at you quizzically, puzzled at your sudden change in demeanor. You seem… softer. Less agitated, at the very least. You’re gazing at the frog adoringly, as if it had somehow solved all of your problems and was dragging you into another world.
Any retort he had ready to shoot at you dies in his mouth. The anger rising in his chest extinguishes in the blink of an eye, and a deep hush settles over you as he watches in curiosity.
For a moment, the universe goes quiet. He’s gotten so used to having everything on his mind all at once that the silence is almost unnerving.
He once believed that his world would end with an injury that never healed quite right, or when he was too old for any team to want him.
He once believed that his world would end when he could no longer imagine the feel of a ball between his palms.
He once believed that his world would end the day he couldn’t play football anymore—that the only thing that would ever kill him was if the chance of standing alongside his brother died with him.
But he was wrong.
Itoshi Rin’s world ends with the bellow of a firework.
In a few years, he would think of this stretch of a few seconds fondly. He would squeeze you a little tighter with his chin resting on your shoulder, staring up at a colourful sky. He would think it was poetic, in a way, that you were the one who painted his world in the same hues of shimmering gold.
Rin remembers, though, that only one thought had crossed his mind.
I’m so screwed.
He can see every fine detail of your face, illuminated in all the colours of the rainbow. And he can’t help but think you are the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He can trace each intricate curve of your nose to your chin to the surprised parting of your lips; the way your lashes flutter as you blink rapidly, tensed from the sudden explosion.
The light fades faster than it appeared, yet it feels like a millennium has passed. The reverbing echo of the firework crackles across the sky, thundering in his ears so loud that he can feel it pounding in his chest.
(Or is that his heart? He can’t tell. He feels dizzy.)
Darkness envelops your bodies again, save for the dim glow of distant lanterns. Every part of you is seared into his memory, a floating image when he blinks.
The frog leaps from your hands back into the water, leaving nothing but ripples behind.
You stay there with your hands outstretched, looking lonely under the dark sky. Another one goes off above your heads, signalling the start of the display.
“There you are, Rin!” Bachira and Isagi come rushing over from the path, excited smiles and mirth bubbling in their laughs as they approach. “We thought you went home without us already!”
Rin slowly blinks out of his reverie. For a second, he glances in your direction again just to catch your eyes. 
“I almost did,” he grumbles, forcing himself not to stare.
“Fireworks are starting!” Isagi yanks Rin to his feet and begins dragging him away before he can even protest.
Without turning around, he can feel the weight of your eyes in the back of his head. There’s an unfamiliar ache in his chest, and the name etched down his pinky burns infinitely hot.
Later at home, he stares at the spot where Sae used to sit back when he still came to Japan for anything other than to take a new passport photo.
“My soulmate’s name showed up,” he had mumbled that night to break the tense silence. It was strange that he still felt like he owed his brother that much—to make his visit as normal as possible despite having his heart carved open.
Sae only looked at him blankly, spoon halting just above his bowl. He was eerily still, quietly deciding how to react. Then,
“Good for you,” he said. And nothing more.
Rin squeezes his eyes shut and he feels warmth rolling down his cheeks. He quickly wipes the tears away, pretending as if they never existed.
He spends the rest of the night trying to forget your face.
(And the next year trying to recreate it in his dreams.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2019
Rin makes it another 275 days before he finally remembers every piece of the puzzle that is your existence.
He saw you in his sleep. The back of your head, anyway.
You were sitting in his favourite café, at the table he claimed for himself right by the window. You ordered a coffee but let it sit for so long that the ice melted. Then, you wiped up the condensation rolling down the frosty glass with your finger.
Rin watched you from afar, observing you the way he wished he did last summer.
Maybe then he could have dived deep into the recesses of his brain to remember why exactly you struck him so. But there he was, stuck watching the back of your head as you gazed out the window.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Your fingers drummed mindlessly against the wooden table, reciting a rhythm just slightly louder than the pounding of his own heart. 
“Can you leave me alone?” He finally called out, hoping it would stop your incessant beating.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“You’re annoying me,” he hissed. Annoying for disturbing his peace and quiet. Annoying for plaguing his dreams even after all these days.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Seriously,” he grunted, standing up from his seat so fast that the chair scraped horribly against the wooden floor. Still, you didn’t pay him any mind, instead more interested in the faceless people walking by. “Knock it off!”
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
He bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation, the itch in the back of his mind ever present. “What’s your name?”
Silence.
You finally turned his way. Slowly. Agonizingly slow.  And Rin was right—you were still so beautiful, 275 days later.
Grinning at him big and bright, you almost seemed to collapse in on yourself with joy. Like a star about to implode, or maybe more akin to a firework.
Either way, his breath was stolen from him.
You silently mouthed your name, making sure he saw every vowel and accentuated syllable. Warmth flooded him in every way—probably brought on by the racing of his heart.
It was impossible that his soulmate was someone like this. Someone whose smile looked like it could heal even the deepest wounds.
You grabbed his attention again with a big wave of the arms, and he watched in anticipation.
“You’re—”
Rin followed your mouth as you sounded out the words without a voice.
“—smiling!”
He reached up to run his fingers along his bottom lip. And you were right, he realized, as he traced it midway up his cheek.
(When did he start smiling?)
(Why?)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Rin thinks about you just as much in the waking world as he does in his dreams.
It’s spring, though snow is still settled over the eaves of homes that he passes on the way to the grocery store. Apparently the winter cold is supposed to be especially long and bitter this year, permeating until mid-May.
He stares at his feet as they mark the virgin snow, decorating his sneakers white and making his feet cold.
Did you walk through the same snow this morning?
Then, when he’s going through the motion of smelling the bottom of pineapples at the store:
Do you like pineapple? What if you’re allergic?
(He shakes his head and puts them away. He suddenly isn’t craving it.)
His obsession with you has only intensified as the year has gone on. If you ever peered into his mind, he would receive a well-deserved slap across the face.
The soulmate mark engraved down his pinky has never bothered him so badly.
It’s like you’re constantly with him—a ghost haunting him, or perhaps more like a curse. Thinking about you takes up unnecessary space in his head. Space that should be dedicated to football, and football only.
He's about to go home so he can make a list outlining the ways he can forget about you.
(Ironic, he knows, but in all honesty he already exhausted all of his options from his first list.)
But then he comes to a stop outside of his favourite café. It looks the same, even has the same advertisements plastered in the window as the last time he was here.
He hesitates at the door, but when he walks in it smells the same. It's decorated the same. Not a single table is out of place.
He walks up to his regular spot, runs his fingers along the wood where he remembers you tapping in his dream.
There's no sign of your existence here.
Rin shakes his head in annoyance, cursing himself out in his head because he was stupid enough to think he would run into you here.
Then disappointment floods his body, like a dam had been released in his chest and it's flowing unstoppably to every piece of him.
(Wait, why is he disappointed? He really needs to take a nap.)
He runs his hand through his hair as a nervous reflex, simultaneously relieved and irritated that you're nowhere to be seen.
It takes him a minute to recollect himself, to realize that he probably looks like a crazy person just standing beside an empty table like a lost child who doesn't know where to go, and decides to just go home.
He pulls into the line to get a drink for his walk home when—
"Thanks!"
His heart drops.
You waltz out of the back, tying your apron around your waist as you exchange spots in the break room with one of your coworkers.
Rin is about to die, seriously. You must be new here, since he's been to this café more times than he can count and he's never seen you before. Or was it that he was specifically looking out for you this time?
Whatever the reason, he's dumbfounded.
“Hey,” your acknowledgment makes him freeze in his spot. “Frog guy?”
He looks at you stupidly, rubbing his eyes like a cartoon character as if he’s imagining you standing right in front of him.
His gaze drifts down to your name tag, fresh and newly printed with white marker. Signed at the end is a little flower, petals swirled into tiny hearts.
Your existence before him is undeniable.
"Um. Yeah," he sputters in disbelief.
"I..." You clear your throat, looking as bewildered as he feels. "I didn't think I'd see you again."
'You're my soulmate. Of course we'd run into each other,' he thinks to himself. Out loud, though:
"Yeah. Me neither."
The person behind him in line coughs quietly, impatiently tapping their foot. Rin takes the hint and quietly tells you what he wants. You lean in across the counter to hear him better, and his face grows warm.
Once you fill in the boxes on the cup, you place it down and move it to the side for someone to fill. It catches his eye immediately.
Itoshi Rin is scribbled neatly down the side of his cup.
“How did you...?”
You awkwardly shift in your spot, evidently embarrassed as you fiddle with the strings of your apron. Then, with your own hands.
“W-Well…”
His eyes dare to drop down to where your thumb is nervously slathering up and down the name on your pinky.
“Oh.”
"Sorry, I just figured—"
"It's fine," he interrupts. Your mouth snaps shut.
Tense silence stretches thin in the air, ready to shatter at any moment. But for some reason, he feels as though he's choking on nothing.
You fumble over the emptiness, quickly snatching up the cup to make his drink yourself after deciding it's too awkward to just stand there.
He watches you in a daze, half shaken and half in awe. Never in a million years would he have thought a dream would lead him back to you.
When you turn back around with a full cup, you look equally stunned. 
“Itoshi—”
“Rin. It’s just Rin.”
You look at him in surprise, lashes fluttering rapidly as you let it sink in.
It's not your fault. You don't know that it's a sore spot that he just so happens to share the same last name with the person he despises most in the world.
It's not your fault that he has a quick temper and his voice raises slightly, enough to make you flinch back just a tiny bit.
And it's definitely not your fault that it stings so much—that he had expected you to speak to him as if you'd already known him for a lifetime and not as if you were just two strangers looking at each other from across a bar counter.
“O-Okay," you take a deep breath, cheeks puffed out and expression unreadable.
You slide the cup across the counter and he catches it in his hand.
He debates whether or not he should say more, like apologize for snapping at you. But then someone calls you by your name, and the way it rolls so beautifully off their tongue catches him off guard.
"Sorry. See you, Rin," you smile sweetly. Maybe a little awkwardly, a small step toward the one he dreamed about. And his heart is set in motion.
Rin decides that today won't be the day.
Another day, he'll be brave enough to crack a joke so dry that you try and scrub his name off your skin. And another day, he will ask for your number because, yeah, you might be the most alluring person he's ever met.
As he turns to take his leave after just staring at the spot you were standing in for a solid few seconds, he can hear some of the other baristas clamouring for you.
He doesn't want to look. Really, honestly, he doesn't. 
But he does anyway.
It's just a quick glance over his shoulder—nothing more than a fleeting moment as he takes the chance to look at you one more time.
Those two seconds is all it takes for him to realize just how much trouble he's in.
You're laughing big and toothy, waving your hand in front of your face dismissively as your coworkers poke fun at how flustered you are. Then your hands are clasped over your stomach and you've doubled down a little in your awkward fit.
His heart has never beat so loud in his own ears.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Itoshi Rin used to smile just for the sake of smiling, once upon a time.
He had aunties who would pinch him by the cheek and fawn over him, cooing about how he looked just like his mother. How his face would cherub and the apples of his cheeks were bright red. Even when he grew out of his baby face, people would tell him how wonderful his smile was.
Sae rarely ever smiled, so it was something exclusive. He never felt like he was standing in his shadow. It was special—the kind of praise only one Itoshi would know.
Rin has forgotten how to smile like that.
He smiles to be polite to his family, if ever. Even then, it's not like he owes them that much. At some point, it became too much effort. And he had no reason to do it.
It was always a tiny thought bothering him in the back of his mind:
I'll never meet my soulmate if I'm always scowling like this.
He thought that was what he wanted, anyway. He wouldn't need to worry about running into his soulmate if no one ever looked his way. If everyone feared him enough not to spare him a second glance.
He doubts everything he ever thought as he sits on the edge of his bed staring at his desk.
It's lit up by a single lamp, shining down on his empty coffee cup like a spotlight opened up by the heavens themselves.
Your phone number is written just below his name.
Rin had almost tossed it into the trash without a second thought earlier in the day. He would have, if it weren't for the loose dog that blitzed by him and made him drop it.
Fate just loves to mess with him.
He picked it up and his thumb had stopped over the number. It was written so small, as if you had wanted him to miss it. Or perhaps you wanted to test destiny yourself—to see if the planets would align and he would discover your seven digits there for him to find.
And now he's home. He's been home, just looking. Contemplating. Stressing.
He migrates from the edge of the bed and settles into his desk chair. Then he gets up, moves back to the bed, and flops down. An endless cycle, back and forth, pushing and pulling.
Rin plops down onto his desk seat and sighs in frustration, ruffling his hair around before his forehead slams into the table.
Every part of his mind screams at him to stop. To toss the cup away and forget today ever happened. His head raises from his arms and he stares at the set of numbers illuminated on the paper, taunting him. 
Finally, he exhales through his nose, sitting up straight and reaching for the cup to toss. His fingers delicately brush along your phone number.
“So dumb…” He huffs, eventually finding his phone instead and opening his contacts.
It’s nearly midnight. He tries to imagine your face as you wait by your phone for a message from him, that stupidly hopeful glimmer in your eyes, and he feels sick to his stomach as he sends it.
Rin: hey. it’s rin.
He throws his phone down on the desk again, screen down so he can’t cringe at himself. A few minutes pass in complete silence as he sulks.
He considers that you may have gone to bed already, or you were offended by the fact that he ignored your offer to connect all day and instantly blocked him. Maybe you thought he never saw your number at all.
Then his phone buzzes. His body moves on autopilot, snatching it up faster than he can realize what he’s doing. He’s halfway through the embarrassing thought that he just immediately read your message after you sent it as your text sinks in.
Unknown: hi! it’s great to hear from you ヾ(〃^∇^)ノ
Unknown: i was starting to think you were never gonna text lol
Rin: i wasn’t
He chews his lip for a moment before quickly following up:
Rin: but i changed my mind. just cause.
Unknown: hahaha got it got it. ‘just cause’ (˘◡˘)
Unknown: rin
Unknown: wait nvm
Unknown: whatever
Unknown: rin
Rin: what
Unknown: let’s get coffee ^ ^
He stares at the screen in disbelief, watching the typing bubble pop up and disappear again and again. He can imagine again what kind of smile you must have on your face right now, or maybe you look flustered, or maybe this all means nothing to you at all and this is your way of being polite.
Regardless of the reason, he eventually types out his response.
Rin: ok
Christ, he’s so tepid.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2020
He comes to memorize every part of you, like how the sun kisses the horizon and the moon knows the tides.
Intimately, almost—if he didn’t overthink the way your touch lingered on him he could easily ignore the way it made his heart pound in his ears.
Rin learns the feeling of your fingers against his skin as you compress an ice pack to his knee. He knows your laugh—can pick apart sarcasm from genuine cheer unlike most other people he encounters. He’s never been good at reading people yet for some reason you’ve become an open book for him. 
It’s not fair that you’ve ensnared him this way, that he can’t seem to run from you (because his favourite coffee is from your café and he can’t be bothered to find a new place). That he finds himself instinctively reaching over to his phone when he can’t sleep (he has to make sure his alarms are on, might as well text you goodnight while he’s at it). And you’ve become annoyingly comfortable (he doesn’t have an excuse for this one—your lap is just conveniently a very nice place to rest his head).
He must be an open book, too.
At some point he probably stopped trying to hide his growing feelings for you, though you either didn’t notice his sudden shift or you didn’t care.
Vulnerability has never been a part of Rin, even before Itoshi Sae ruined his life.
He despises how you so easily pry him apart, skinning him alive with your hand lathering down his chest as you laugh. 
Still, he’s grown accustomed to your fingers stringing through his hair, to the way your head tilts when he explains football plays to you, to the obvious way you fluster when he attempts (poorly) at flirting with you.
He’s gotten especially fond of the way you meet him at the end of his practices with such sweet, wandering hands—pushing the hair stuck to his forehead from sweat away from his eyes; using a towel to wipe up his neck; the squeeze you give his palms as you examine them to see if there are any new cuts and bruises.
Usually, he’s the epitome of confidence in his plays. Today, however, his cheeks burn as you approach him with the same honeyed smile.
“My shots were shoddy,” he admits before you can even get a word out. You only raise a brow, hands faltering in front of you. “That was lame.”
“I think you’re good.”
“Good,” he frowns. “But not great?”
“The greatest,” you quickly correct yourself, smiling at his cravings for praise. You’re armed with a fresh towel like you always are, reaching up to clean his face as if it’s the only thing you were born to do.
He relishes in your gentle touch, peering at you through his lashes while you prattle on about how amazing he was even though he missed half of his shots.
You were so blindly supportive, it sickens him. 
Not because he felt you were being disingenuous, but because he’s not deserving of your praise. 
For the first time in a long time, it feels as though his soul is disconnected from his body. He used to walk the earth this way—uninterested in his surroundings and obsessed with only one thing.
Itoshi Sae. Itoshi Sae. Itoshi Sae.
Suddenly, he’s thirteen again and gasping for air; screaming into his pillow and trashing their shared awards until his mother comes rushing in to stop him. He’s alone in a field, abandoned and crushed.
It’s not like he’d never lost before, even in front of you. Loss was just a part of football as much as he hated it.
But your praise only makes his stomach turn, because he knows you mean it.
You truly do believe he’s the best, when really he’s been futile in his attempts to catch up with the big brother he admired so much as a kid.
“Stop,” he gently interrupts.
Rin tries to use his hair to hide the wetness of his eyes, with little success. You can see right through him, unfortunately. It’s a talent he wishes you didn’t have.
“Rin?” You say softly, reaching up to brush the hair out of the way. He doesn’t try and back up or swat your hand away, instead letting you see his miserable expression. You sigh quietly, looking more exasperated than surprised.
“Sorry,” he mutters halfheartedly.
You shake your head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Shame boils in his stomach at your reassurance. There is something to apologize for. Here you are, supporting him with all your heart, and all he can think about is his stupid brother. How he’ll never catch up. How he’ll never be good enough.
Doesn’t your kindness warrant his attention at the very least?
“Come on,” you tug at his hand. “Let’s get you a pick-me-up.”
Rin abides silently, body following yours off the field and onto the streets though his mind has floated off elsewhere.
He tries to count how many steps you take in between the field and the destination, but loses count somewhere around three hundred. Then he moves on to counting the hairs on the back of your head. He loses count at one hundred. Eventually, he gives up and opts for staring at your conjoined hands while he lags behind.
When you come to a halt, he nearly bumps into your back.
The ringing in his ears stops as he blinks at his surroundings. Waves crash against the shore of the sandbank, singing the song of the ocean. It had been so long since Rin walked down this stretch of the shore, he almost forgot what the sea looked like.
“Wait here,” you urge as you hold him by the shoulders then disappear around the corner.
He collapses at the wall separating land from sea, swinging his legs under the railings to sit comfortably as he remembers doing when he was a kid. His gym bag is abandoned behind him, cleats and all.
When you return, you shove a popsicle into his hand.
He’s confused at first, just looking absently at the packaging. It must be for a concerning amount of time, because you eventually pipe up.
“Do you need me to open it for you?”
Rin glares at you and your teasing smile. Carefully, he unpackages the treat and pops it in his mouth.
Sweetness melts over his tongue and he exhales sharply through his nose. You watch him in amusement with your own treat stuck in your mouth.
Silence engulfs you, eating Rin from the inside out until he feels ill. He holds his half-eaten popsicle in front of him, watching it melt down his hand.
You stare at him for a second before nudging him lightly with your elbow.
“I was being serious. You were really good. I can’t even imagine playing like you do.”
Rin’s stomach turns. The last thing he wants is your pity.
“You don’t have to be so nice,” he mumbles, resting his chin on the railing. “42 percent.”
“42 percent?” You echo, peering over the railing to get a better look at his face.
“The percent of shots I made today.”
“Come on,” you urge gently. “Aren’t you being too hard on yourself?”
“If I’m not hard on myself, I’ll never—” he stops, choking lightly on his spit. When you don’t interrupt, he shoves the popsicle back in his mouth. “Whatever. You wouldn't get it.”
It’s quiet again, save for the crashing of waves upon rock. Rin thinks for a moment that maybe he had gone too far, or that his little meltdown had freaked you out.
But when he finally dares to look at you again, you’re smiling.
“Maybe not,” you admit with a whisper. “But I do know this…” You reach over and cup his cheek with your free hand, thumb sweeping the expanse of his cheek soothingly. “There is no one—and I mean no one—who works harder than you do.”
He swallows thickly, subconsciously nudging his face a little further into your palm.
“You deserve to be a little kinder to yourself.”
The way his heart catches in his throat is strange. He can’t describe it. The warmth in his belly is foreign, but it’s pleasant.
For the first time in the year he’s gotten to know you, the thought crosses his mind:
I think I’m in love with you.
Rin’s mouth opens with the idea, but he forces it shut just as fast.
Fear grips his lungs and squeezes, stealing his air and forcing him to pull away from your touch.
“Okay,” he breathes in resignation.
You seem stunned by his sudden retreat, smile faltering ever so slightly. But you recover quickly, hugging yourself as you slouch over the railing.
Conversation moves on just like that. He appreciated that about you, too. He never had to dwell.
It feels nice, everything about this; to have his legs dangling over the edge of the cement, feet barely ghosting over the surface of the water; to have a popsicle melting between his teeth while he listens to you talk.
For some reason, it feels as though he’s reclaiming lost time, reliving a moment he thought he would never have again.
When he checks his popsicle stick, it tells him he’s a winner for the first time since he was thirteen.
(He finally allows himself to believe it when your knee gently knocks into his.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2021
“Frog cotton candy?”
“Frog shaped cotton candy,” Rin corrects, peering around the giant fluff of candy to look at you quizzically.
“Yeah,” you giggle. “But why?”
He grumbles quietly, cheeks a soft shade of pink as he shoves the treat into your hands.
“I thought you’d like it. Nevermind,” he deadpans, turning around to toss it into the garbage.
Your laugh crescendos and he feels his heart squeeze with affection. When your hand stops him by the forearm, he thinks he might explode.
“It’s cute.”
You pick apart the floss ruthlessly with your fingers, and he watches almost in a trance—hypnotized by just your existence.
(When you finally pop the sugar into your mouth, he imagines it melting on his own tongue. The thought makes him unbearably warm and he forces it away.)
His fascination with you doesn't end there.
There's a certain charm to you that he can't understand—something that draws him in, tantalizing but terrifying at the same time.
He can't help the way he watches in a daze, the way you've ensnared all his attention and taken up the space in his mind. 
Rin has never been good at being kind, but here he is.
Here he is, bringing you cotton candy because he thought it was stupid but cute.
Here he is, rolling up the sleeves of your yukata with a gentle scolding when you rush over to catch goldfish.
And here he is, letting you cling to his arm as if he's the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.
He really, really hates it—how mushy you make his brain feel.
He's halfway through re-rolling your sleeves with a half-hearted scowl on his face when you stop him, hand pressed to his forearm.
“Listen, Rin.”
“Hm?” He leans down so that he can peer at your face hidden behind your almost nonexistent candy floss.
“I have to show you something.”
Rin stops dead in his tracks, raising a brow as he fully turns toward you. “What is it?”
“Can you close your eyes for me?”
His heart does a somersault in his chest. “You’re not doing anything weird, are you?”
“Who do you think I am?” You sputter.
He lets out a long sigh before complying, squeezing his eyes shut. After a long silence, he considers peeking a little bit.
That is, until he feels your breath gently fanning over his parted lips.
Nearly leaping back, he wills himself to stay grounded and slowly slides his hands up your arms until he gets to your shoulders. As he imagined, your body is impossibly close to his.
It takes every bit of concentration he has not to waver. If he really tries, he can focus on how your breath smells sweet of candy. How your hair blows softly with the summer breeze, tickling his cheeks. How you smell. How you breathe.
(Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. Is that okay?)
You tense up in his hold and suddenly you’re retreating from him, swiftly pulling out of his arms. Just as he’s about to ask you what happened, there’s a piece of candy shoved into his mouth.
“You wanted to try it, didn’t you?” You ask rather breathlessly. He opens his eyes, looking at you curiously.
Rin has never seen this expression on you before, lips pulled tight in embarrassment and pupils blown. You look more like a wild animal caught in a cage than someone who just made a move on him.
He gingerly takes the empty paper cone from your hands and folds it up, no longer able to meet your gaze lest he explode on the spot.
“Yeah,” he says softly, shuffling over to dump it into a bin. “Thanks.”
When he turns around to look at you again, his breath gets caught in his throat.
Why are you laughing?
You giggle into your palm, hiding your gleeful smile from him as you double over slightly.
“Your face is all red!” You holler.
He grunts in embarrassment, using the back of his hand to hide his own face. “Shut the hell up,” he spits.
“It’s almost like you wanted me to kiss you!”
“Oh my god, please drop it.”
“No way! I’ve never seen you look like that before!”
(‘Speak for yourself,’ he thinks.)
“So what if I did?”
Your laughter halts as if it was swallowed into the pits of your stomach. Slowly unraveling to stand up straight, he sees another expression he’s never been able to imagine on you, but he can’t quite place it.
“Did what?” You murmur.
“Want you to kiss me.”
Your face is warm under the glow of lanterns, eyes shimmering with the overhead lights. Rin watches your mouth open and close repeatedly as you try and formulate some sort of response.
A firework explodes atop of you, and he wonders if it just saved you.
You seem jarred for only a moment more until you jolt, grabbing him roughly by the arm and giving him a pull.
“I just remembered,” you gasp. “I actually did have something to show you!”
Rin doesn’t get a word in before you’re dragging him along by the arm. With each boom of an explosion, your footsteps pick up, building into a full blown sprint out of the festival grounds and through the thicket.
You tug him along, guiding him by the hand through the winding path of trees and logs. His stamina is better than yours but you’re pushing up the hill despite your huffing and puffing—it makes him laugh with you.
When you break free of the forest, Rin’s eyes focus on a field of plush grass and buttercups.
You let go of his hand, flinging yourself forward and spinning on your heel to exaggerate how wide the opening is with your arms.
“Isn’t it great?” You shout over the fireworks. “Away from the crowd!”
He rushes up to you so that you can stop yelling, invading your personal space until you can hear him just at his normal volume.
“It’s perfect,” he tells you earnestly.
You grin up at him widely before pulling him along to the edge of the clearing. You plop down together, eyes glued to the sky as the fireworks rage on.
Rin only lasts a few seconds before his eyes drift to the side, trying to drink in your expression. It’s become a habit of his to try and imprint your very existence into his brain.
Against his better judgment, his hand creeps toward yours until your fingers are overlapped.
Thankfully, you don’t use the opportunity to tease him about it, instead shifting a little closer until you’re practically burrowed into his side. If it were anyone else, he would have shoved them away.
(When did he stop trying to push you away?)
When your pinkies slowly close together, he feels as if he can’t breathe properly.
Mark-to-mark, it’s as though he is full of all the love he’s ever felt for you from every life—past or future. Like there’s a love that exists within him that transcends lifetimes, if it were even possible.
If he were to peer into another dimension, would you still be together like this? Would you be plucking buttercups and mindlessly twirling them between your fingers? Would he be itching to envelop you in his arms just to devour you?
His thoughts cease when you take a deep breath.
“I used to come here alone,” you admit.
“No one took you?” He asks. Your gaze is piercing the night sky, never leaving the show. He can see the bloom of colours in them.
“Not since I was little, but I always loved it here.”
The question burns hot in Rin’s mind: even if it was a little lonely sometimes?
He remembers back to the night that he first saw you, with your hands dipping into the murky waters of a frog pond and an air of desolation surrounding you. Then he remembers how he couldn’t sleep that night. Not with the image of you crouching there alone burned into his memory.
“Did you know this festival is a celebration of love?” He suddenly asks.
Oh what the fuck? Oh, god. Why did he say that?
That was so lukewarm of him. So stupid. So pointless and lame.
He just wanted something to say to you, something that would make him stop thinking about how you might have been alone for all that time before you knew him.
The silence burns between you, tense and awkward until he starts stuttering out something else to fill the void. But then you look at him, slow and intrigued and so damn amused that he can feel heat rising to the tips of his ears.
“I had no idea.”
There’s a longing in your expression that tells a different story. A twitch of your pinky against his that gives away your blatant lie.
And, damnit. Here he is again, four years later under the same stars. Under the same fireworks. Only this time, he’s able to see your face even closer as it lights up a million different colours—teal like his eyes; rose like his cheeks; golden like the heart he’s tried so hard to protect.
Four years later and he still thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen: pinkies interlocked, sheepish smile on your face, an undeniable shake in your voice that means you have more that you’re too nervous to say.
For a moment he considers finally letting go of all the things keeping him bolted and chained where he stands, swallowing the key to the cage surrounding his fragile, thumping heart. And for that fleeting second, he feels as though he’s the bravest man alive—that nothing could stop him even if you were to turn away and snub him out with the heel of your foot.
But how could he open his mouth and tell you anything when all he feels is the sick twisting of his stomach, the daunting glare of the older brother he adored so much, and the coldness of snow soaking his clothes as he sits in a field and cries?
There’s a burning, raging fire within him. Something primal and afraid and unchanging despite how much he wants to fall into your arms the way your shared etchings say he should.
It screams at him: run away. Run. Run. Run. This will only end in hurt.
He’s too fucked up. Too messed in the head and too quick to anger because he’s actually soft at heart, easy to betray—
“Rin.”
Your hand swiftly captures his face and he’s dragged unceremoniously out of his reverie.
Of course you would be able to pick out his turmoil by expression alone. By the droop of his lips into a frown—not the annoyed one he would flash his teammates, or the grimace he would scare children away with. The kind that’s sad and slow and timid, like an animal caught in a net.
“I’m really happy that we’re friends.”
“Friends?” He breathes, half confused and half incredulous.
Deep down he knows that it’s an attempt to comfort him without being too sappy. Maybe you can sense it somewhere in your soul that he would probably break down and sob if you were to make him feel any more vulnerable than he already is with you. It’s an effort to take away whatever guilt he feels and give him a chance to relax.
However, he can see a different tale in your eyes.
Loneliness as empty as the sky on a cloudy night. A yearning for more, for someone, for him, to fill the gap. I’m tired of waiting. That’s all he can read beneath the sea of colour exploding in your irises.
It only makes him feel worse, but he allows himself to be lied to anyway if only to feel the warmth of your skin against his just a bit longer.
“Yeah.”
Your pinky twitches again. He can feel the brush of your name against his, the grate of your matching soul marks. Your eyes tear away from his and are glued to the infinite sky above once more. To the stars you know are there but are covered by smoke and fire.
Rin only stares at you. He can’t focus on the explosions of fireworks anymore, not when you’re right in front of him looking so perfect. His summer treasure.
“Yeah?”
He knows he sounds dumb, repeating everything like an oaf who can’t fathom what’s being said. You giggle and it floors him.
“Just being able to stand here with you—” you glance at him again, only for a second. He can see the exhaustion in that moment, but he’s too selfish to pry. “—I think I’m the luckiest person alive.”
“Even if…” He swallows harshly. It feels like shrapnel cutting down his throat. “Even if I can’t be more?”
“Even so.”
There’s a pause and you open your mouth to say more, maybe to give him an ultimatum or to elaborate on your feelings, but then you’re interrupted by the end of the display.
Counteless fireworks explode above you in the finale. Rin can hear the awestruck gasps of families down the hill, the distant cries of children and the faint shutter of cameras filling the air.
He realizes then: he’s been smiling. His cheeks hurt from how big it’s gotten. And you’re smiling at him, too.
(The fireworks rage on, but in the end, all he can look at is you.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2022
Falling in love with Itoshi Rin was one of the most foolish, most wonderful things that could have happened to you.
He was an enigma in and of itself, a mystery of a soulmate who was able to love you wholeheartedly and push you away at the same time.
There were nights where you would stay up wondering why he was your soulmate when it seemed like all he wanted to be was alone. Other times, you fell asleep smiling to yourself knowing that somewhere deep down you both belonged to each other. 
The universe chose you. The universe chose him. It was indisputable, yet you still had doubts.
Tonight is one of those “foolish” nights. It seems as though you have been stood up.
For three hours you’ve waited in the same spot at the gates of the festival, watching families and couples pass by but never the one person you’d wait until the end of the world for. The sun has long since gone to sleep over the horizon and the streets are fully lit up with lanterns for the festivities.
6 pm. That was the time Rin promised he would meet you. In the past, he was always late but at least had the decency to tell you beforehand that you could go ahead without him. Only when you arrived and sat down to wait for him had he finally messaged you.
Rin: gonna be late. see you at 7.
7 pm. That was the rescheduled time. It was when you expected to see him walking up to you in his yukata that you begged him to wear this year, matching adoringly with yours. And at 7 pm you would tell him. You would tell him everything.
For months prior you had practiced almost pathetically so, recited and perfected your speech while staring at your reflection in a mirror. You’d written him a letter, too.
7 pm. You were finally going to thank Rin for everything. For accompanying you to such a silly festival even though you know he loathes it. For meeting you under the stars and the moon and the fireworks time and time again. For bringing life back into a childhood memory that you had long since hated.
7 pm. You were going to tell him thank you. You were going to tell him you loved him, just as it had been written in the stars many years before you were born.
It’s 9 pm, nearing 10 and the start of the fireworks show. He missed the entire night without explanation.
At 9:58 pm, just as you’re about to give up all hope, you finally come face to face with teal eyes and a stupidly handsome face sheen with sweat. It shouldn’t hurt so much, the way he looks at you so dismissively as if he hadn’t blown you off all night. 
“Sorry,” he mutters disingenuously, attempting to brush past you without a second thought. “Let’s go, I’m thirsty.”
He has his gym bag slung over his shoulder and a windbreaker over his uniform. No sign of the yukata you had picked out for him to wear.
You don’t follow him, staring at his back in disbelief. When he realizes you aren’t trailing behind, he turns on his heel and raises a brow in question. “Are you coming?”
“I was waiting for you all night,” you tell him coldly. I was waiting for you all this time and you never showed up. 
He swallows thickly, suddenly overcome by guilt because of your downcast expression. “I know. I lost track of time.”
“Lost track of time?” You scoff incredulously. Your mouth opens as if you have more to say, but you’re interrupted by a bang.
Rin’s eyes flutter closed. He can’t listen to this. He can’t watch.
He knows this all too well. He knew it all along.
The universe was wrong. Itoshi Rin was never cut out to be someone’s soulmate.
“We’re missing it…”
Your back is turned to him but all he can imagine is the terrible expression you must be making right now, twisted in sadness and anger. The worse image is a completely blank face—unfeeling and cold. He doesn’t even want to think about it.
Booms echo in the distance yet all he can focus on is the faint hum in his ears, the horrible churning in his stomach and the fog of guilt clouding his head.
“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly that he’s sure you can’t even hear him under the deep, bellowing explosions over the horizon.
He doesn’t remember the last time he apologized for anything like this. Being cold and aloof was just in his nature. Never before had he felt like it was necessary to be remorseful for the way he is—for how he was made to be.
The slight tremble of your shoulders and the way you use the back of your sleeves to wipe tears from your eyes force the words out of him before he can stop it. He tells you again,
“I’m sorry.”
He weakly attempts to grab you by the arms, holding you from behind so he can make you look at him. You jerk away fast as lightning, knocking him away as you swivel around to glare.
“Why didn’t you come?” You demand. There’s anger shaking in your voice. Rin doesn’t know how to respond to it, not when you’ve always been so understanding and kind. Perhaps he was too cruel for you if he was going to break you this way.
“I got caught up with—”
“With football, right?” You laugh bitterly, taking a generous step back. Hurt pours from every inch of your expression and all it does is make his heart ache.
“Stop,” he suddenly snaps. You flinch at his tone and shrink back, only adding to his guilt. He always had the worst temper. “Don’t be like this. You know it was important,” he explains, gentler this time. Softer, trying to coax you back over.
There’s a beat of complete silence, save for the hollowed explosions in the distance. Rin blinks at you a couple times before his frayed nerves finally calm again. And then he realizes something terrible.
The look in your eyes, the deflation of your shoulders—this is what utter defeat looks like. For a moment deja vu rushes through his blood, bringing him back to a time when he too felt as miserable as you. 
Every year he’s had the opportunity to read your expression: I’m tired of waiting. But he always foolishly assumed you would still wait around for him forever. That your patience would be as infinite as the stars in the sky. That just because he had the privilege of having his name scrawled down your pinky, he would be guaranteed to have you.
It was disgustingly selfish.
Just as he opens his mouth to apologize again, you storm up to him and shove the piece of paper roughly into his chest. With the closed gap, he can clearly see the tears streaming down your face illuminated by warm lanterns.
“Just forget it.”
“Wait—” He catches your wrist as you push past him, stopping you in your tracks again despite your struggle to get away. “Come on, I said I’m sorry!”
“Rin,” you sniffle, voice breaking with just the syllable of his name. It makes him falter. “I’m tired.”
“But—”
“You can’t even spare me one night? Just this one night in the entire year?” You breathe, no longer trying to dance around the subject. “What is it with you? What are you so afraid of?”
Being put in the spotlight never bothered Rin before. It was easy enough to ignore when all his life he was watched carefully. But it’s different with you; you’re the only one looking at him in this moment yet it feels like the weight of a million pairs of eyes at once.
An answer comes quickly to his mind, almost natural. He knows exactly what’s wrong with him.
He’s afraid of being left behind again. Of being hurt. Rin is terrified of love and being loved because he’s too pathetically fragile.
The pieces of his heart are clumsily glued together and he’s scared that even the smallest turbulence would send it shattering into a billion shards again. He doesn’t know how to put himself back together properly anymore. 
Itoshi Sae permanently fucked him up.
Though they were on slightly better terms now, the scars would always haunt him. The simple solution is to shut everyone else out, to protect the weak heart he harbours.
If he told you that, would you understand? Or would you try and claw his name off your skin?
You take his silence as an answer and pry away from him again, holding yourself protectively—guarding yourself from the catastrophe that follows Rin wherever he goes.
“Goodbye, Rin.”
He doesn’t watch you go. 
The nearest bench becomes his temporary home. He could do hundreds of plays in a football game and never tire, but for some reason your disdain has sucked every ounce of energy from his body.
It doesn’t register that he’s still holding the paper you forced into his hands until it crinkles in his hold. He slowly unfolds it revealing ink sloppily smeared across the page.
And then he reads it. Again. And again. And again, until it’s shaking in his hold. Until the dull ache in his heart feels like the pierce of a knife. 
Rin doesn’t know what to do anymore. He’s always had one clear goal for his entire life, but now everything is all muddled. Messy, like everything else he touches.
He turns everything into a disaster.
Does he chase after you and risk having his fragile heart broken all over again? Does he risk being left behind or does he close off the gate for that option entirely? He could sit in his cowardice and never change, preserving his heart forever in this moment of time; a polaroid in the slideshow of his mortality.
There’s a familiarity to this all. Perhaps he had lived through this decision a million lives before this. Maybe he would live through it again an infinite amount of times, so long as it was your name etched into his skin.
Was he as messed up in this life as he was in every other?
If he had ruined everything in this life, if he made the wrong choice and drove you away in hatred until you drew your last breath, then maybe he could make it all up to you in the next one.
Or, if that were the case, maybe he was born into this world only to love you—to make up for the millenia where he ran away.
Rin’s legs have never moved so fast. Not in football. Not even from his brother. If you were the light at the end of the tunnel then he would keep chasing you forever, he thinks. Until his wounded heart gave out.
Of all the stupid decisions he’s made in his life, have any of them amounted to anything? He’s going to give it one last try. One more chance to prove to himself that not everything he touches burns to ashes.
“Wait!”
You visibly startle, eyes wide as you turn to see Rin dashing toward you. He doesn’t give you even a moment to ask questions, to wonder why he’s coming back to break your heart again. 
You’re engulfed in a hug faster than you can blink, stumbling back from the force of his body colliding with yours until your sandals get kicked off your feet.
“Rin?” You murmur his name in disbelief, breathless even though you weren’t the one sprinting down the road.
“Just give me one more chance,” he stammers out. You can feel the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders as he holds you and fights for air simultaneously. Your hands twitch at your sides but you remain lifeless in his arms.
He tries again: “Let me prove it to you. Let me prove that it wasn’t some freak accident that led me to you. That my name on your skin is meant to be there.”
“Don’t do this,” you tell him quietly, lips brushing against his ear as you speak. “I don’t want to be loved and feared at the same time.”
“But…” Rin squeezes your body against his, almost desperately. Clinging to what he has ruined. “For once in my life, I want something more.”
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
You hesitantly shift, hands slowly trailing up his back until your body is curling against his. He can trace the outline of your body against his, like a puzzle piece that he was missing slotted perfectly in his grasp.
“I thought my soulmate would only slow me down and break me. I was wrong. I know that now.”
He slowly rocks your bodies back and forth. You pull away until your eyes meet his, red with tears. It’s the messiest he has ever seen you, but his heart refuses to be still. It aches.
Beautiful. It’s the only word he can describe you with. It didn’t matter if you were lit up under the wondrous sky, or handing him coffee in a crowded café, or sobbing in his arms. 
You would only ever be his infinitely beautiful soulmate.
It’s the only constant he would have in this life and every other, even if you were to break his heart. It would be the single greatest achievement in his time, above football, above any of his petty competitions—that your name is etched down his pinky.
It scares him. It thrills him.
With the distant roar of fireworks, he kisses you. And you allow him, hiccuping against his lips as you cry.
You stay like that for a long time, listening to the hollow shockwaves of fireworks exploding miles away. He’s the first to draw back, raking in shallow breaths. You chase him, finding solace against his lips once more but not fully indulging him with another kiss.
“Do you fear me?” You whisper into his mouth.
“More than anything,” he tells you.
“Do you love me?”
After a moment of contemplation, he answers,
“More than anything.”
You nod slowly, awkwardly pulling away from him and taking a step back. It’s your first kiss and you don’t know where you’re supposed to look anymore. Rin stops your nervous shifting with his hand swooping under your chin.
“One year. I promise.” You look at him in confusion, so he continues. “Next year, when the season and my contract are over, I’ll meet you there. At the pond.”
You seem skeptical still, with your brows knitted together and a lost haze in your eyes. He raises his pinky, the one with your name forever grafted into the skin, and offers it to you.
“I pinky promise.”
It’s so ridiculous, wearing his heart on his sleeve with something he learned about on playgrounds when he was a child. A pinky promise shouldn’t mean any more than the words he has already spoken. But for some reason, your eyes light up.
He feels nothing but relief when your pinkies lock together.
“Okay,” you breathe.
“You’ll wait for me?”
“Rin.” His name leaves you in a breathless laugh that makes his world spin. It sounds so tired yet so sweet. “I’ve been waiting all my life.”
“I’m sorry,” he says once more for good measure. You nod. A wordless acceptance.
Itoshi Rin is your soulmate. It’s not like that fact will ever change no matter the time, no matter the distance.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2023
Fate is a funny thing. Soulmates are a funny thing.
The universe threw Rin curveball after curveball, beating him down until he was nothing but a husk heavenly built for one purpose only: beat Sae. Beat Itoshi Sae.
There were times when he would lay awake at night wondering why he was given this life, why he was thrust into hardship and hurt and betrayal. How could something so perfect, something so all-knowing, be so cruel?
For as long as the name had been grafted into his skin, he resented the idea of a soulmate.
He hated the idea that only one person in the world would be his eternal weakness. That one day, one person would hold every piece of his soul in their hands. Even then, his soulmate was the other half of him—his salvation. His downfall.
They would know every inch of his skin. Every bleeding wound of his heart. Every bruise and scar along his legs from cleats and nails and gravel. Having a soulmate meant having every part of him exposed, to be judged and worshiped at the same time.
At your hands, though, he’s certain this is what he was born for—to spend the rest of his days by your side even if you were doing something as mundane as catching frogs together.
“You’re scaring them,” you hiss quietly.
Your fingers sink into the pond and Rin watches your reflections ripple as water fills your palms. Your faces contort and meld into one being. In some ways, it’s a familiar feeling—to have been intertwined with you since his very conception.
“You’re terrible at this.”
“It’s your fault!”
“Right,” he deadpans. “You haven’t caught a single one all night.”
“You were late,” you remind him with a huff, cheeks inflated. “Before you got here I was catching frogs all night. Coincidence?”
Rin makes another noise, something akin to a snort. But he doesn’t acknowledge your statement, instead reaching over to gingerly roll the sleeves of your yukata up to your elbows.
“Are you always so sloppy? Your sleeves are getting all wet.”
You glare at him from the side, delivering a deadly warning. “Are you always such a pain in the ass?”
“I get it, I get it. I said I was sorry for being late. Nii-chan really wanted to try that new ice cream place downtown.”
Your gaze drifts to him in the shimmering reflection, watching his smile soften at the mention of his big brother. It was wonderful that they were trying to patch things up.
Sae had decided to come home after all, promising Rin that they would play together again once they both took a well deserved break.
You could tell that Rin was trying his best not to make a big deal out of it, but the way he cried into your shoulder later that night said it all.
“I feel bad having you come all the way out here just to see me. Your brother is back in Japan isn’t he?”
“Yeah. And he wants to meet you.”
You nearly fall over. “What?”
“Please don’t look so starstruck about that. I feel sick.”
Laughing, you recentre yourself, sitting back on your heels with your hands on your knees. “Sorry, sorry! It’s not that…”
Rin raises a brow. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“It’s just—” you fumble, cheeks burning hot at the idea of being introduced to Rin’s family after all these years. Formally, as his partner. His soulmate. The name they had all known since he was thirteen. “What would I even say to him?”
He looks at you in bewilderment. Then, he snickers, only laughing harder when you smack his arm.
“Don’t worry about that,” he assures, reaching out to pat the top of your head. “Just be yourself. My family will love you.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, studying your reflections in the water with a soft smile. You’re staring right back at yourself, but Rin is only looking at you.
“I haven’t done anything special.”
“You lit up my world,” you laugh, turning back up to look at him properly. You make a mini explosion with your hands. “Boom! Like that. A firework.”
“You’re too corny,” he murmurs in embarrassment, turning his head away to hide his flushed face. “Can’t you explain it like a normal person?”
“No can do,” you tell him, voice gentler this time. After a pause, you shuffle your sandals around in the mud and take a deep breath. “If you want me to be totally serious…”
You lunge over and tackle him into your arms. He nearly loses his balance holding the both of you upright, stumbling back on his heels before he catches your waist. You don’t seem to share the sentiment of staying pristine, knees digging into the dirt as you squeeze him tighter.
Rin feels his heart catch in his throat the same way you’ve made it for the last six years.
“Thank you. For letting me love you. For being my soulmate.”
His hand is automatically in your hair, scratching your scalp as he smiles into your shoulder.
“I’m sure I gave you nothing but a hard time,” he grumbles.
“But I still love you.”
“Even though you had to wait?”
“Even so.”
“And that I’m a pain in the ass?”
“Even then, I do.”
Rin burrows himself into your neck, hiding his face again. It does a poor job at masking the kind of expression he’s making, though, considering how warm his skin is.
“What if I’m not good enough?”
He feels terrible—guilty that he needs to keep having this conversation with you. But you always comfort him the same way. He hopes you always will.
Drawing his head up with your muddy hands, you dirty his cheeks just to get a glimpse of him. You murmur a half-hearted sorry for making a mess.
Then you’re kissing him.
“I’ll be here to remind you how much I cherish you.”
You nip his bottom lip and he opens wider. You whisper into his mouth,
“And how happy I am that Itoshi Rin was born into this world.”
Itoshi Rin, broken. He who thought that he could never be put back together.
Itoshi Rin, vengeful. He who believed the only happiness that existed for him in this world was to surpass his brother.
Itoshi Rin, who did not believe in his soulmate while staring right at them. And Itoshi Rin, who finally allowed himself to love you wholly, completely, as it was written in the stars.
“I love you,” he says, as if just those three words could encapsulate everything he feels for you.
“Always?” You giggle. He rolls his eyes. 
“Wherever you are, and wherever you may be, I will.”
You kiss him one more time for good measure.
“That was corny.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2024
“No peeking.”
Rin folds up his piece of paper and hangs it from the bamboo tree. You’re tugging him along before he can even properly check to see if it’s been secured.
“Come on, I don’t want to miss the fireworks!”
He wouldn’t miss them for the world. You’ve always looked the most beautiful under the brightened summer sky.
The wish he scribbled down blows softly in the breeze as both of you rush by, back to the festival where it all began.
7 July 2024. I wish I had the words to tell you how much I love you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
extra notes. hi! if you made it this far, i'd like to give you the warmest most grateful thank you ever ( ´ ω `)
so, here it is. i've been working on this since last september-ish... for some people that amount of time is not much, but genuinely, i've never devoted so much attention and time to one single fic and i hope i did this one justice. rin has always been a guilty pleasure of mine to write for. i hope this man stays far far away from me until i can stomach even looking at his name again LOL ‾́ ◡ ‾́
also i finally admitted defeat and took out all my pictures and dividers because tumblr was fighting my posts that had any. so... sorry the formatting looks like this
additional tags: @jenoutof10 @hanrinz @itoshiexx lol hi guys it made it out of the drafts i hope you like it
722 notes · View notes
edenesth · 3 months
Text
Clumsy Hearts, Steady Love
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Pairing: boyfriend!Hongjoong x fem!reader
AU: non-idol au
Word Count: 2.4k
Summary: He was a great friend but a terrible lover, and he knew it. For the longest time, he believed he wasn’t cut out for relationships. But then you came along, and for the first time, he wanted to try. He wanted to be better, to be good for you, even if it meant being clumsy along the way. For you, he was willing to learn how to love.
A/N: Only @itstheghostofmypast knows this was initially meant to be a timestamp🤡
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"Don't drive today, darling. I'll pick you up from work this evening."
Those words from Kim Hongjoong echoed in your mind. For the first time in a year of being together, he offered to pick you up. Your heart soared at the unexpected sweetness from him.
It wasn't that you thought he was a bad boyfriend, but you knew his nature from the very beginning. Your friends had warned you when you accepted him; he was a workaholic, someone who would always put anything and everything before you. A good friend but a bad lover—that was his reputation. Yet, you couldn't deny the way he made your heart race, the way his presence made everything better, the way he vowed to love you as you deserved, the way he promised he would try for you.
From the start, you knew what you were getting into. You didn't expect perfection. You didn't want perfection.
You just wanted him.
But loving Hongjoong truly was not easy.
It could be exhausting. Perhaps today was another one of those days.
You had looked forward to this day for so long, hoping he would be the boyfriend he promised to be. But deep down, you knew better than to have such high hopes.
Letting out what felt like the thousandth sigh of the day, you nearly froze to death from being soaked in the rain, your ankle throbbed from a sprained heel as you stood by the bus stop outside your office building where he was supposed to pick you up.
But he was nowhere to be seen.
Every call went straight to voicemail, escalating your worry to panic. You didn’t dare move, fearing he might arrive at an empty bus stop.
After hours of agony, trying to reach him, and calling all his friends, you got the same useless response: he was unreachable, and they had no idea where he could be.
Three hours.
You sat there for three hours, sick with worry about him, when you were the one who needed care, only to end up taking the bus home. So much for the excitement and anticipation of him picking you up for the first time. You should have been furious, but the pounding headache and rising fever stole that from you. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips, the disappointment of what should have been an exciting Friday evening turning into an utter disaster.
"Enough, my darling. I'm here now, am I not?" said Kim Hongjoong.
The audacity.
You had left work to be greeted by a heavy downpour, cursing yourself for not bringing an umbrella. As if things couldn't get worse, your sprint to the bus stop where he promised to pick you up was interrupted when your heel chose that moment to snap. You yelped in pain, stumbling forward onto the wet ground, your belongings scattering everywhere. Crawling on the rough pavement to collect them, you finally stood up, only to feel a sharp throb in your ankle.
But it was supposed to be okay because seeing Hongjoong was sure to make everything better.
Ha, bitch you thought.
He left you panicking like a mad woman for hours, only to show up in the most infuriating way. When the 8pm bus finally rolled to a stop before you and the automated doors swooshed opened, you were busy dialling his number yet again.
"Come on, pick up pick up pick up—"
Wait a minute, is that...?
You did a double take when the very person you had been desperately trying to reach this whole time stepped off the bus with a sheepish smile, only for his expression to fall when he saw the miserable state you were in.
"Please throw your phone away if you have no intention of using it," you said flatly, walking past him and intentionally bumping his shoulder as you boarded the bus, no longer caring if he followed.
Of course, he did.
He cursed under his breath, noticing your limp, the heels in your hand, and your soaked, shivering form.
Settling into the last row of seats beside you, he quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around you. You were too weak to fight back or refuse. His heart ached as he pulled you close, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. Silently, you accepted it all. Not only were you too exhausted to reject his gestures, but you also felt you deserved this and more after what you had endured. When you were warm enough, he immediately checked on your now swollen and bruised ankle, careful not to hurt you. The concern in his eyes was enough to melt your heart, but he didn't need to know that.
Once he was done fussing over you, he leaned back in his seat, offering his shoulder. Stubbornly, you turned away and leaned your head against the window instead. Knowing you needed time to calm down, he kept quiet and let you be, but not without staying close. He needed you to know he was there for you.
When you sighed again, he could no longer take it. He felt the need to explain himself.
"I know you're mad, and you have every right to be," he began, his voice soft and sincere. "I messed up, and I'm so sorry. I got caught up in something I couldn't get out of, and I swear I was going to call you, but my phone died and the stupid car broke down. God, I'm such an idiot. I should have tried harder to reach you or get to you sooner."
Still, you said nothing, your silence more punishing than any words you could have spoken. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly at a loss.
"I love you," he whispered, almost to himself. "I just want to make things right."
For a moment, you softened, but the memory of the cold rain and the throbbing pain in your ankle kept your resolve firm. He had to understand the gravity of his actions.
Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "You can't just show up and expect everything to be okay, Joong. You scared me. I thought something terrible had happened to you. And all the while, I was the one who was hurt and alone."
"I know," he said, his voice cracking. "And I'm so, so sorry, my darling. Please, give me a chance to make it up to you."
You turned to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he got on the bus. The sincerity and regret in his gaze were undeniable.
"One chance, Kim Hongjoong," you said firmly. "Don't mess it up."
He nodded, relief washing over his face. "I won't. I promise."
With that, you leaned back against the window, still not ready to forgive, but willing to see if he could truly make amends. And for the rest of the ride, he stayed close, his presence a silent vow that he would try his best to make things right.
As you slowly drifted to sleep, he guided your head to his shoulder, gently pressing his cheek against your forehead. Feeling your breath steady and the tension ease from your body, he allowed himself a small, relieved smile. He reached for your cold hands, stroking his fingers against your skin to warm you, finding it funny how he used to judge couples in public, but now that he had you, he realised he couldn't blame them—you were all that mattered.
The truth was, he had been late leaving work today, and to make matters worse, his car had broken down in the middle of heavy traffic. When he tried to call you, his phone had died. In desperation, he had caught the quickest bus he could find, but traffic had been relentless. He could have told you all of this, but he didn’t want to make excuses. He knew he should have done better.
Hongjoong glanced down at you, his heart aching with tenderness and guilt. He was still clumsy when it came to love, but for you, he would learn to be a better lover. Stroking your hair gently, he whispered, "I’m so sorry. I won't make you wait again. I promise to do better. I promise to always be there for you."
The bus ride continued in peaceful silence, the hum of the engine and the occasional jostle of the road the only sounds. He held you close, vowing silently to never let you down again. As the bus neared your stop, he adjusted his position, cupping your cheek softly and kissing your head, whispering, "We're here, darling."
You let out a small groan as your eyes fluttered open, unconsciously snuggling closer to his warmth and comfort as you tried to register your surroundings. If only you knew what your little actions did to his poor heart. Tightening his grip around you, he helped you up from your seat and carefully guided you out of the bus, ensuring you didn't put pressure on your injured ankle. The driver gave you a sympathetic nod as the two of you stepped off. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the night was calm.
As you walked the short distance to your shared apartment, you suddenly remembered what had happened and peeled his hands off you. You weren't necessarily cold to him but you still needed space to cool off. He gulped, his fear of losing you was apparent. "Please, you're hurt. Let me take care of you."
To be fair, he knew he deserved your reaction. You weren't upset merely because of what happened today; he believed this was you letting out all the frustration you had kept in for the entirety of your one-year relationship. And he knew now that if he wanted to keep you by his side, this was his sign to take things more seriously.
No more excuses.
You had been nothing but the best and most attentive girlfriend to him. So, what was stopping him from doing the same for you?
He knew you didn't want to be near him right now, but he also didn't have the heart to stay away. Offering his hand, he nodded toward it. "Come, let's go home."
Tired out of your mind, you swallowed your anger, deciding to save it for another time. For now, you needed him. You reached out with a pout, surprising him by holding onto his pointer finger. "Fine, let's go."
He chuckled, his heart bursting with affection at how cute you were. This was better than nothing. Walking slowly, he made sure you weren't hurting yourself, each step a reminder of his promise to himself and you.
As you entered your apartment, he helped you settle onto the couch, your injured ankle elevated and cushioned. He fetched a blanket and wrapped it around you, his eyes filled with concern. "I'll make us some tea," he said softly, heading to the kitchen.
While he prepared the tea, you watched him move with a newfound determination. You could see he was trying, truly trying, to be better for you. And that thought, more than anything, began to melt the icy wall you had momentarily built up in your heart.
He returned with two steaming mugs, setting them on the table before sitting beside you. He took your hand gently, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "I know I have a lot to make up for," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But I promise, I will. You mean everything to me."
You looked into his eyes, seeing the honesty and love there. It was a start, and as you sipped your tea together, you felt a glimmer of hope that things could truly change.
Just as you finished your tea, you sighed and looked up at him, intending to get up and head to your room. But before you could move, he gently squeezed your hand and stood up. "Let me help you," he insisted, his voice gentle yet firm.
You hesitated, feeling torn between wanting to assert your independence and appreciating his newfound care. "I can manage," you insisted weakly.
"I know you can, darling," he replied softly, crouching beside you. "But let me take care of you this time, please."
His sincerity was palpable, and despite your initial resistance, you found yourself nodding. He carefully helped you to your feet, supporting your weight as you limped towards your room. Once inside, he waited patiently as you freshened up and changed into dry clothes, his presence a reassuring warmth in the quiet of the room.
As you emerged, feeling somewhat more composed, you glanced at him gratefully. "Thank you, Joong," you murmured, genuinely touched by his unexpected tenderness.
He smiled softly, his eyes reflecting relief and determination. "It's only my job as your boyfriend," he replied earnestly.
Returning to the living room, you settled back onto the couch together. The warmth of his tea and his presence beside you enveloped you in a sense of security and hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, things could indeed change for the better between you.
You couldn't deny his affections any longer, his pleading look was enough to melt you into his embrace. As he gently pulled the throw blanket snugly around you, drawing you closer, your heart fluttered. His actions conveyed a heartfelt apology, reminding you why you could never leave this man, no matter how tiring things became. At the end of the day, you both belonged to each other, despite his occasional clumsiness; your love remained steadfast.
Nuzzling against his neck, you breathed in his familiar scent. "How's the car? Have you contacted insurance?" you murmured, slipping effortlessly into the role of the attentive girlfriend he knew so well.
With a tender smile, he shook his head. "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. Take care of everything. Take care of you."
His words made your heart skip a beat, and you tightened your grip on his sweater. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Kim Hongjoong," you teased gently.
He reassured you with a squeeze of your shoulder. "I won't, my darling. Not anymore."
Looking up at your boyfriend, you could see the honesty in his eyes. You knew perfection wasn't guaranteed from this point onward, but you at least trusted that he would always give his best effort.
And that was what mattered most.
"If you say so," you whispered, your eyes closing as he leaned in to press his lips against yours. Hongjoong understood your doubts, but this was where he would begin to earn your trust.
From now on, he would do everything to be the lover you deserved. He would learn from his mistakes and grow, all for the sake of the person he loved most in the world.
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I swear, this came out of nowhere lmfao. I was supposed to be working on Jongho's TWTHH spinoff but this happened. Tbf, this has been swirling in my mind for the past week at work because something similar happened to me. I was soaked in the rain and my heel did snap. The 3-hour wait was also a past experience of mine, except that douchebag was no Kim Hongjoong HAHA
Thank you for reading and I hope you lovelies enjoyed this random little oneshot. As always, let me know your thoughts! <3
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@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |
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592 notes · View notes
aledmorningstar · 7 months
Text
╰┈➤Bad joke
Summary: Sukuna discovers that you don't like jokes.
Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader
Word count: 1.8k
Note: Slow updates, my editor and I are in a fight with my university administrators.
-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, slight angst
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The terrible hours of class had finally ended, the hard day of university had culminated its torture at 6:00 pm, every day you reconsidered the idea of ​​continuing studying so intensely, did you really need that university degree?
Without a doubt, life sounded more beautiful in an imaginary world, being a pretty housewife who patiently waited for her millionaire husband who loved her madly, your days would be spent helping your children with their homework and wasting an unreasonable amount of money on any whim.
“We've told you to stop daydreaming, it could be dangerous in the wrong places.”
Your daydream was interrupted by one of your best friends, it seemed like your group of friends had already finished putting away their belongings and were just waiting for you to leave the classroom.
"Oh I'm sorry. I was just thinking about the future."
“Is the young lady returning to the fantasy of married life with her impolite boyfriend?”
"Hey! I already told you not to talk about him like that."
You argue while you put your notebooks and computer in your bag, the one that your boyfriend Ryomen had given you on your birthday even though you told him that a gift was not necessary, you knew how difficult it must be for him and how limited which can sometimes be the money in your situation; his mother, playing the role of both parents and trying to provide a bright future for her children; Yuji, his twin who had to complete several courses to be a firefighter and also study a Bachelor's degree in automotive mechanics; and finally Ryomen himself, who had to complete his university career as a lawyer.
It was definitely not easy for him or his family, unlike you, who had lived the life of a princess in an imaginary bubble impenetrable by the dangers and worries of reality. Even though you had insisted on helping that modest family financially, you were not allowed to do so. Both Sukuna and his brother and mother refused to accept a cent of your generous support, saying that they did not want to take advantage of your kindness. That did not stop them from you gave expensive gifts to each one on special dates.
Maybe that was the reason behind that expensive gift from your boyfriend, one day he simply listened to you talk about that beautiful designer bag that was going to become fashionable with its next release on sale, he used all his savings and even did part-time jobs, washing cars, walking dogs, helping model clothes for the fashion design department; just to be able to see a cute and excited smile on your face.
You are a princess, the most beautiful flower he could find and of course he would give you everything you deserve, everything that fine society has given you and he does his best so that you do not have any lack by his side, to be worthy of you.
You didn't have the heart to tell him that you had pre-ordered that bag thanks to your father's contacts and that you had to refund it, angering some merchants for their wasted efforts.
“Hurry up, if we don't get to the cafe on time the tables will be full.”
Like every Friday you and your friends got together to talk about the latest news in your lives, your social circle was mostly made up of girls just as privileged as you, it wasn't difficult for your father to convince you to choose a career in law, much less make you enter one of the most demanding and prestigious schools in the country.
Your friends are good girls, you knew that otherwise you wouldn't have even looked at them; However, like you, they were overprotected and followed the sophisticated rules that society had imposed on them. This was one of the reasons why they didn't quite agree with your relationship with Ryomen Sukuna, a commoner in their eyes.
Like any conversation between friends, the topic of boys and relationships could not be avoided, a topic in which you came to light with your strange relationship of “opposite poles”, the little princess of the city and the delinquent of the campus, it was the funniest and most interesting experiment your friends could witness.
“So… How is our little princess's relationship going? Did he already ruin it?”
Of course there were going to be silly comments that doubted that your relationship was authentic and that waited for the slightest mistake from your boyfriend to shout in your face “I told you so.”
"No and he won't, you don't know my 'kuna"
“We know his history”
Even though all your friends were always supportive and kind to you, there was one in particular who wasn't very nice. Ann, always making sarcastic comments and believing herself to be better than everyone, everyone could see how jealous she was of you; She had been the last to join the group, one day you saw her alone and decided to integrate her into your group, unfortunately you never found the words to tell her that you no longer wanted to be her friend.
“Come on, darling, everyone here remembers how your relationship began.”
“He has changed, he is not the same person he was before, he is a new man”
Sure, your relationship may not have started off in the most convincing way possible, there were lies, misunderstandings and a lot of tears, but everything is different now. Now you have the romance that any girl could dream of, one full of love, affection and trust of those you only find in books, you would have your happily ever after.
“Well, I'll wait for your bad boy to do one of his things and don't say I didn't warn you.”
"When pigs fly, that's not going to happen"
The atmosphere had frozen in an awkward silence as you and Ann exchanged a big forced smile, it was strange to see you angry because of your sweet personality, but it would certainly be even stranger not to see you jump into an argument that included Ryomen Sukuna's name, you are his unofficial lawyer.
“Okay girls, let's talk about something else…”
╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝
You love Fridays, the best day of the week, since you could sleep over at your loved one's house and enjoy the weekend in his arms watching movies, doing puzzles, taking photos, listening to music, talking, watching videos, going out on dates, ordering takeout or even when he played a video game on the console and you were left coloring the pictures he printed for you (sometimes he needs his space).
That Friday the drawings were finished quickly, so you decided to watch some videos on your tiktok while Sukuna played a video game that you only knew had weapons because of the shots. The videos on your fyp were about pranks between couples (something that amused you), some light and others a little harsh.
Sukuna was someone who was a joker, someone who liked to make jokes but couldn't stand having one played on him; However, you were a couple, a slight joke between you could be kind of funny, it wasn't even a funny joke you just wanted to see how funny his reaction could be.
A message made Sukuna's phone ring, you thought it was the perfect time for your little act as you held back your laughter.
“Who is sending you so many messages? You have another girl, right?”
Your comment surprised Sukuna slightly, you weren't the jealous type, he looked at you for a split second and that was enough for him to know you were joking, he can play too.
"Oh my love. It's not even one girl, they´re five precious ones."
The amused smile that adorned your face disappeared in an instant, being replaced by a strange grimace, your eyes glistening from the tears that formed and that you refused to let go as you bit your trembling lower lip, preventing any sound.
"Really?"
“Of course, pretty. I'm too cool to stay with just one girl."
Memories of your conversation with Ann invaded your mind, Sukuna Ryomen had a past that was difficult to overcome, would he really change overnight for you?
Your boyfriend quickly realized that you had started packing your belongings back into your suitcase, why would you do that? The plan was that you would stay with him like every weekend, what was happening?
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”
Well, you had dropped a little bomb that exploded in your face and you didn't like it, but you wouldn't let him notice that it dealt a low blow at least for you.
“I'm just putting my things away. “Can you pass me my colored pencils?”
Sukuna decided to make the difficult decision to abandon his game and pay attention to the seemingly serious situation that was occurring with his beloved.
He did as you asked, you put away your colored pencils next to your other belongings with quick movements and finally wrote something furiously on your phone.
“I asked you a question, what are you doing?”
“Nothing… I'm asking my driver to come pick me up.”
"Now?"
“Yes, now. In fact I'm writing to him 'Please hurry up, I want to leave here right now, come as fast as you can'”
You could barely feel the force and speed with which Ryomen snatched the phone from your hands, he stood up and placed your phone on one of the highest pieces of furniture in the living room.
"Why would you do that?"
"What do you mean why? Did you hear what you said earlier?”
The hardest question you can ask a man, ask him the reason why his girlfriend was angry. The pink-haired man's reasoning quickly went to work.
Connect the dots, you had gotten angry within a period of 5 minutes, you weren't angry with him before that time, all he had done was play video games. Had that bothered you? No, he had given you drawings of your favorite characters to entertain you, the only thing he had done besides playing had been answering your joke... Oh.
“Ah, that's it.”
“Is that all you will say?”
Okay, a mental note for Sukuna: You like making jokes, you don't like having them made or returned to you. You're a crybaby, but he still loves you.
“Sorry, love, it was a joke. You know that I only love you, you are the only girl who occupies my heart, the owner of my soul and my body, I would kill for you, ask me to kill for you."
Ryomen approached to hug you from behind, he placed one of his hands on your abdomen and one on your shoulder, crossing your chest to bring you closer to him, you could feel his breath on your neck and after a few seconds you shivered from the kisses he gave you. he left on your cheek.
“I didn't find your joke funny.”
“In my defense, you started joking that I had another woman. You’re a baby, jokes aren’t your thing, darling.”
The look on your face made him feel like he had just kicked a puppy, his solution was to carry you back to the couch and hold you in his arms.
"I'm sorry baby. You can choose the movie we watch today, deal?”
"Deal"
⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here
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elix8r · 2 months
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PRADA SHOES + I LOVE YOUS TEASER
PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader 
GENRE: smut, angst, crack, (some?) fluff, college!au, exes to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au, socialite/richkid!au
SUMMARY: Life as a socialite wasn’t all champagnes and designer labels, especially not with the turn your reputation took due to a simple misunderstanding. Now, you were being painted by everyone as a big fat cheater who shattered her sweet boyfriend’s heart—a narrative that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, it was him who had betrayed your trust. Frustrated and feeling deeply wronged, you returned to society and the new school year after a summer of cutting off contact with everyone and the drama. But just when you thought you were ready to face the world again, you were blindsided by something unexpected: the lingering effect Heeseung had on you. And who could blame you? Heeseung was way too hot for you to get over in just three short months and now, seeing him with the girl he once told you not to worry about all over him? Oh, it was on. 
You refused to be replaced, labeled as a crazy ex, or forgotten. No, you were going to make Lee Heeseung realize that you were the best motherfucking thing to had ever happened to him. 
WC: 1.3K for teaser (i'm thinking 20k+ for the actual fic)
WARNINGS (FOR THE TEASER): profanity + mentions of infidelity
RELEASE DATE: Unknown but I am aiming for before summer ends
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey everyone!! lt's been so long since I've posted one of these so I decided to give you a really long teaser and also cause this is going to be a long one to write so you'll have to be a little more patient! But I hope you guys enjoy this and is excited for this fic cause I love writing it! Everyone is so messy (and lowkey kinda terrible) but it'll be a fun one so pls look forward to it!! Lmk if you wanna be on the taglist ☺️
Heeseung was going to fucking kill Jake Sim. 
When he woke up this morning, you were the last thing on his mind, something he seemed to have finally freed himself from. However, all the hard work he put into casting you away from his mind seemed to have been in vain, as now all he could think about was you and how you had returned after three months of radio silence with the guy you cheated on him with.
Livid didn’t even cover what he was feeling, and it was evident in the way he swung his club. Each hit seemed to be driven by a surge of pent-up frustration.
“What the hell, man? That’s the third time today you’ve been way off course. What’s going on?” Jay shot him an incredulous look as he tried to locate where the golf ball had landed.
Heeseung let out a frustrated groan as he ripped off his glove and shoved his driver back into his bag. “Y/N’s fucking back.”
That was all Jay needed to hear to understand what was going on with his friend. "Shit, I saw. I’m sorry dude, it’s fucked up."
Heeseung was in no mindset to be playing golf right now. All he wanted was to go back home and wallow miserably in his bed. Unfortunately, they were only on hole ten of eighteen, and judging by his performance today, Heeseung knew it was going to take awhile.
"Did you know?" Heeseung couldn't help but blurt out, his frustration evident in his voice as he watched Jay effortlessly swing a shot miles better than his own.
Confusion flickered across Jay's face as he turned to face his friend. "What do you mean?"
“Did you know that she was coming back with Jake?” Heeseung felt his jaw tense as he mentioned his ex-friend.
“I didn’t even know he was with her until today. Honestly, I thought he’d just fucked off somewhere and didn’t bother telling any of us, considering how things went down. You know me, I would’ve told you straight up if I had found out earlier.” Heeseung trusted Jay implicitly. He was as loyal as they came, but unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for everyone in their friend group.
"Do you think Sunghoon knew?" Heeseung's question elicited an audible groan from Jay.
If anyone in their friend group knew how Jake spent his summer, it would undoubtedly be Sunghoon. However, Sunghoon was notoriously tight-lipped, especially when it came to sensitive matters. Since the breakup, the entire friend group had undergone an incredibly awkward shift. It seemed that everyone had more or less chosen a side, and allegiances were clear.
"You know he wouldn't tell us anything if he did. It's getting ridiculous. The other day, I saw Gaeul and him having brunch or something at the clubhouse, and the moment she spotted me, she practically sprinted over to explain herself. She claimed she's still 'Switzerland' in the whole situation and hasn't chosen a side," Jay recounted, frustration evident in his voice. 
Heeseung almost snorted at the absurdity of it all. Their friend group had never been one to keep secrets or tiptoe around each other, but the last few months had been nothing but that. The betrayal by you and Jake had not only affected Heeseung's relationship with you but had also tainted the dynamic of their entire friend group.
“Literally, what is there to be ‘Switzerland’ about? I mean, this whole thing isn’t even complicated. Everyone saw them go into the bathroom together and come out literally holding hands. Trust me, I know what she looks like after giving head, and that's literally what she looked like in that video Beomgyu sent. Plus, Karina literally heard them.” Heeseung angrily got into the golf cart as Jay fished the keys out to start driving.
“Okay, well, no offense, but in all honesty, Karina’s probably not the most reliable source, cause she’s in an extremely biased position, but I guess that’s beside the point.” Jay’s words seemed to instantly bring a frown upon Heeseung’s face.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Heeseung’s tone sharply switched up in an almost defensive manner.
Jay, feeling this shift, nervously cleared his throat as he stammered, trying his best not to offend his already sensitive friend regarding an even more fragile situation. “I mean, uh, well. You know…”
“What?” The grip he had on the seat of the golf cart seemed to get tighter as he waited for his friend to elaborate.
“Dude, you can't be serious? You know Karina’s been trying to ride your dick for the past, what, give or take ten years? I mean, we all know that she’s never had a good relationship with Y/N, and I’m pretty sure most of that resentment stemmed from the fact that you’ve always been head over heels for Y/N.” Jay slowly parked the cart and turned off the engine as he explained.
Still not understanding Jay’s point, Heeseung furrowed his brows, shooting his friend another annoyed look before getting out of the golf cart. “What are you trying to get at?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dense. I mean, the last couple of months before Y/N cheated on you was the closest you seemed to have gotten with Karina because of that final project that you guys had or whatever. I mean, you were with her more times than you were with your own girlfriend, and knowing Karina, she seems like she could be delusional enough to have maybe taken that as a sign that you were interested in her? I mean, this is all speculation, but I’m just letting you know what we all saw.”
Jay cautiously treaded this topic. Heeseung was his best friend since they were babies, and he would always be on his side, but Karina was never anyone’s favorite with her extremely polarizing personality. He had no allegiance towards her, not to mention that she wasn’t actually even in their friend group and always only ever found lingering around wherever Heeseung was, so it was much easier for Jay to actually see through her. In fact, it seemed that all of their friends could pretty much catch on to Karina’s end goal except Heeseung.
“So you think it’s my fault that Y/N cheated on me?” The air got tense as Heeseung snapped at Jay while snatching his 7-iron out of the bag. “Just because I spent some time doing a stupid fucking school project with Karina doesn’t mean it gives her reason to go and suck off one of my best friends.”
Jay shook his head even before Heeseung was done with his sentence. Heeseung seemed to not be getting the point. “Fuck no, dude, that’s not what I’m saying. Karina has an incentive: you. If she gets rid of Y/N, then it means you’re up for grabs. Of course, Karina didn’t force Y/N to get on her knees for Sim, but she was the first one to come running, telling us what happened even before Beomgyu sent that video.” Heeseung was trying hard to focus on trying to get his ball on the green as he geared up to swing while listening to Jay.
“So you don’t think she should’ve warned me of what she heard?” He swung precisely, but it seemed that this whole course, to be precise, wasn’t going easy on him. He’d be lucky to get even a double bogey on the par-4.
Jay slightly grimaced at Heeseung’s shot. “No, it’s not that,” he let out a sigh as he walked over to Heeseung. “Look, you’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I know the past few months have been fucking hard because of what Y/N put you through, and I just want you to be careful. Karina’s always been kind of a conniving, spoiled bitch who finds a way to get what she wants. Just because she’s been warming your bed every night since Y/N fell off the fucking Earth doesn’t mean she should be someone you start trusting.”
There was nothing he could say back to his friend’s words and it seemed that what Jay had said clung on deep to Heeseung's thoughts throughout the day, casting a lingering shadow and leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mind.
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musaslullaby · 1 month
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18
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Kimi Antonelli x fem reader
Summary: Kimi's girlfriend is planning a surprise for him.
Warning: only fluff, au instagram
Face: random people on Pinterest, Kimi Antonelli and his friends.
a/n: Here's my way of wishing Kimi a happy birthday, trying once again to use this style of writing.
Masterlist
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Kimi.antonelli
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Description: Summer vacation is almost over, and we'll be back on track soon, but in the meantime, let's have some more fun.
liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc and other 132143334
Yn_official: I miss you.
Kimiantonelli: I miss you too❤️
KimiYnbaby_: Wait, didn’t Yn go with him?
f1lover: No, she had family commitments.
KimiYnbaby_: okok
Olliebearman: Don’t have too much fun without us.
Yn_official: I’m keeping an eye on you, Antonelli.
Yn_loveu: All Formula One and Two fans in America will chase Kimi on behalf of Yn.
Yn_official
Stories blocked for Kimi.antonelli
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Kimi.antonelli
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Description: Family reunited❤️
liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc,Yn_official and other 132143334
Yn_official: I love you and missed you so much, but this doesn’t make up for the sleep I lost picking you up at the airport.
arthur_leclerc: What a terrible boyfriend.
Yn_official: You can say that again.
Kimi.antonelli: Bullying even on my birthday.
Kimimylife: Guys, do you think he knows?
Yn_kimi: No, he doesn’t.
AntoKimi: I’m just waiting for someone to ruin everything😂
Kimi.antonelli: What are you all plotting?
Olliebearman: You’ll understand.
Yn_official: Shut that damn mouth, Ollie.
Olliebearman: At your command🫡
Kimi.antonelli: You guys scare me.
Kimi.antonelli
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liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc,Paularon and other 132143334
Description: Sports and relax with the boys.
Kimi_Yn: Guys, the plan has begun.
Olliebearma: Dude, you suck at tennis.
Paularon: I beat him three times.
Kimi.antonelli: Those are just details.
Yn_official
Blocked for Kimi.antonelli
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liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc and other 132143334
Description: Preparations have begun 🤫🤫
Yourfriend_: Stop taking photos and come help us.
Yn_official: Sorry.
Olliebearman: We’ll keep him here for a bit longer, but he’s starting to miss you.
YnandKimifan: How sweet, Kimi wants to spend his birthday with Yn.
Ynlover: Don’t make him wait too long, Yn.
User90: Guys, I’m waiting for the video of Kimi’s reaction.
Lovef1: Oh my God, I hope they do it.
Yn_official: Start bringing home the chicken.
Paularon: We’re on our way.
Olliebearman: As you wish, future Mrs. Antonelli.
Kimimylife: Oh my God, I can’t wait!
Loverkimyn: We’re more excited than they are.
Kimi.antonelli
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liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc,Yn_official and other 132143334
Description: Best birthday ever, thank you for this surprise party. I really don’t know how to thank you.
I had so much fun, and now I feel officially ready to start the season again.
A special thanks to the love of my life (I know this was your idea) I love you so much.
Yn_official: Trust me, after this party, you’ll need at least a month to recover.
Yourfried_: Ollie drank so many shots that he passed out on the couch.
Olliebearman: Hey, you don’t have permission to post that photo, and when the hell did you take it?
LoverKimi: But Yn ignoring the last part of the post😂😂😂
Arthur_leclerc: Oh yes, that’s true love.
Olliebearman: Yn, please respond to Kimi’s “I love you” before he starts crying.
Yn_official: Of course, I love my favorite drama queen.
Kimi.antonelli: 1. I wasn't crying 2. I'm not a drama queen 3. I love u too.
Ynqueen: Yn looks amazing in the third photo.
Kimilover: Can we talk about Kimi and Yn in the fourth photo?
Ynkimi: I wish we had a video of Yn and Kimi’s amazing voices.
Arthur_leclerc: By the way, I’m mad because you put Charles on the cake and not me.
Kimi.antonelli: Please, that cake is beyond amazing.
user09: Whoever chose it deserves a prize
Yn_official: Here I am to claim my prize.
Charles_leclerc: Inferiority complex, Arthur?
Arthur_leclerc: You’re not important enough to give me an inferiority complex.
Yn_official: Arthur has officially roasted his brother.
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hoes4hoseok · 5 months
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mehndi laga ke rakhna
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heeseung looks for his name in your henna the night before your wedding.
pairing :: lee heeseung x gn!reader genres/au’s :: fluff warnings :: brief food talk word count :: 0.5k author’s note :: i don't care how this performs (at least i'm telling myself that) because this fic is completely self-indulgent. no one asked for this. i hope my fellow desis and everyone else who chooses to read this enjoy this nevertheless. this is so embarrassing omg DON'T LOOK AT ME. also, jaanu means dear in urdu/hindi and i used it because i'm feeling delusional. beta readers :: @sunoosill but she might have been too busy laughing at me to actually edit it LOL I APPRECIATE YOU THO <3 soundtrack :: kesariya (honestly i was listening to o re piya while writing but that song makes me sad so here)
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“oh, you look beautiful,” heeseung declared from the couch, his right hand on his heart as you rounded the corner into your warmly lit living room, “do a little twirl.”
“i’m wearing pajamas, heeseung,” you protested but lifted the ends of your pajamas to spin for your fiancé with a bashful grin. 
“how long did this take?” heeseung’s eyes widened as you approached, surprised by the level of detail in your mehndi.
“five or six hours. she had to cover my feet, too,”
“five or s—” heeseung’s mouth fell agape, “i hope you got to eat and drink water.”
“i did, don’t worry,” you laughed off his comment, recalling how frantic your friends and family were to ensure you were doing just that, “and…i have a little surprise for you.”
heeseung tilted his head in curiosity, gaze fixed on you as you joined him on the sofa. “and what would that be?”
“do you remember that tradition i told you about? the one that—”
“you wrote my name in there?” a toothy smile started to form on heeseung’s lips as he gently pulled your right hand toward his face.
“just your first name,” you smiled, combing the hair that had fallen into heeseung’s face in his excitement back with your free hand. he remained focused on your hand as he used his pointer finger to follow a spiral from the center of your palm outward.
“this will be so easy,”
“if you think it’s so easy, maybe we should add some stakes,” you suggested. you tried to sound like you had just come up with this idea, but your delivery revealed that you had thought about it much beforehand. he looked up with a cocked eyebrow, always in the mood for a challenge. “if you don’t find your name in the next three minutes, i win — in which case, i get to write my name on you too. in the same spot.”
“okay, deal,” he said softly, smiling to himself as he set a timer before looking back down at your mehndi. your heart swelled with affection as he moved his touch along your forearm to check there, grazing each square inch with his soft fingers. he met your eyes momentarily, shaking his head as if to say “not on this one.”
picking up your left hand, he repeated the process, starting from the center of your palm and working outward. he paused briefly midway through tracing your fingers but continued, biting his bottom lip to conceal a grin.
“you have a terrible poker face, jaanu,” he pretended not to hear you, so you wiggled your fingers to get his attention. “i know you found it.”
“you’re so sentimental that i knew exactly where it was going to be,” heeseung admitted, curling your left index and middle fingers forward to reveal, among the scallops of the design, ‘HEESEUNG’ written along the length of your ring finger. “but i knew you wanted to write your name on my hand.”
“oh, who’s the sentimental one now, hm?” you rolled your eyes, giving a playful push to his shoulder.
heeseung reached behind himself to reveal a mehndi cone, a proud smirk on his face, “might be me,” he handed you the cone and put his left hand in yours.
“it’s definitely you,” you leaned forward, pressing a small kiss onto the corner of his grin.
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masterlist
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holybibly · 6 months
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Yesterday I was talking to one of my bunnies and we had a very interesting discussion. Remembering San's life with the famous search for "fan fiction", I thought: what if someone from Ateez could be one of my anonymous bunnies?
So here we are.
Which member do you most resemble, bunny? Tell me in the comments. I'm interested.
Ateez as bannies in Holy Bibly blog
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Seonghwa - Mommy's most obedient bunny
♥ First one to find the blog
♥ Totally under the spell of atmosphere
♥ Wants to call me Mommy
♥ Totally shameless but extremely obedient
♥ Wants to be called only "Good Boy/Sugar Bunny"
♥ Always asks permission before touching himself: "I've been a good mommy, can I play with myself?"
♥ Gets bored and needy if there are no answers from me
♥ Favourite AU! - Submissive idol, Mommy Hwa, bunny/kitten hybrid, househusband
♥ If he doesn't get attention, he goes a little crazy
♥ Every day he asks me how I'm doing and shows a lot of concern for me.
♥ Biting his lips and whimpering when he sees my answers
♥ Favourite ff - ℌ𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔦𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡
♥ A passionate desire to be the most loved bunny in the world
♥ A slut for compliments
♥ Uses his cute little bunny toy to rub his pretty cock all over it
♥ Silk pajamas and sweets
♥ A blushing, aching mess
♥ Soft NSFW Links
♥ "I'll be always belong to you, Mommy"
♥ He prides himself on being the most beloved bunny.
♥ He's jealous but doesn't show it because he doesn't want to upset me.
♥ When he touches himself, he moans and whimpers.
♥ Absolutely precious boy
♥ Writes tender vulgar messages in DMs
♥ He puts his fingers in his mouth, drools on them and rolls his eyes.
♥ Always asks for permission before he cum: "Please, Mommy, can I cum now? I've been such a good little bunny for you."
♥ Checking my blog is the first thing he does when he wakes up.
♥ In general, he really wants to be pampered and to be adored.
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San - Shy and gentle / toxic bunny
♥ He found out about the blog by chance. He saw a message about the new post on Hwa's phone.
♥ At first he was terribly embarrassed by all the things. But then he became too addicted.
♥ He calls me My Lady, but secretly he yearns to call me Mommy.
♥ The only time he checks the blog is at night, when he is alone.
♥ He is too quick to be turned on by even the most innocent of messages. It just does things for him.
♥ Too shy to send a request, but would really like to do so.
♥ Wants to be called "Kitten/Handsome Boy", but secretly goes by "Sir".
♥ He is jealous and wants to have my full attention.
♥ Favourite AU! - Kitten Hybrid, Royal, Striptease/Sex Work, Professor Choi
♥ Licks his lips all the time during reading
♥ Bites his shirt so Mingi and Seonghwa can't hear how loud he moans when he jerks off.
♥ The kind of guy who likes to rub his dick all over the sheets
♥ He has a penchant for nipple stimulation.
♥ Favourite ff - ℑ𝔱'𝔰 𝔜𝔬𝔲
♥ Discovery of new kinks in himself after reading my work
♥ After several months of keeping quiet, he plucks up the courage to ask request.
♥ Overly excited about Sugar Weekend, but actually his favourite part is Unholy Hours
♥ Generally torn between wanting to be the best kitty and wanting to control me.
♥ One of the most possessive bunnies here.
♥ A bit of a toxic bunny, but very sweet.
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Yeosang - lost/curious bunny
♥ Found the blog because Woo couldn't shut up about it.
♥ Confused by all the requests and the frankness of the bunnies
♥ The first few weeks he didn't understand what was going on.
♥ Literally 🧍🏻He even had to ask Hwa about it. He got a detailed lecture with a demonstration of the materials.
♥ The more he reads, the more addicted he is to it.
♥ He've set up notifications to alert him to new posts so he doesn't miss anything.
♥ He giggles and kicks his legs like a schoolgirl when he reads my replies to the other bunnies.
♥ Gentle baby.
♥ Favourite AU! - Heavy Dom Yeosang, Toxic Boyfriend, Sugar Baby.
♥ Calls me "Miss" or "My Queen".
♥ A very polite bunny who keeps asking me how I'm doing: "My Queen, are you looking after yourself well? You need to drink a lot of water and take vitamins".
♥ Really excited about Yeosang Unni - this is his Roman Empire.
♥ He masturbates in the shower and thinks about all my works.
♥ Each time he remembers the request for a bunny and a shower head.
♥ Moaning in a low and deep voice - "velvet moaning", his favourite phrase.
♥ Wants to be brave and send a request for the Unholy Hour. But doesn't know how to do it properly.
♥ An exquisite bunny with an elegant taste.
♥ He is a little puffy due to the amount of work about him, but he is waiting for Pastor Yeosang and is literally counting the hours until the publication.
♥ Because he wants to have an intimate relationship with me, he doesn't want to discuss it with others.
♥ He loves to be called "My love"
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Hongjoong - cheeky/slutty bunny
♥ Finds out about the blog through Hwa. He talks about it all the time, bragging left and right about all the attention he gets from me. Also because of Wooyoung and Mingi's fight over the position of my favorite bunny.
♥ He immediately jumps on the topic.
♥ He has no shame "I'm good in all position"
♥ He boldly communicates with other bunnies, replies to comments and starts whole threads.
♥ No requests, he will write to me in DM right away.
♥ Favourite FF - 𝔓𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔉𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔡
♥ Sneaks around on web sites looking for new fur coats
♥ Wants me to call him "Daddy" when he calls me "Mommy".
♥ Attention eater
♥ Maddening jealous: "I just want you to think about me all the time. I'm your favourite bunny."
♥ When tired or upset, comes to talk about his day.
♥ Won't shut up about the results of the voting for a "gift" fic: "You know I'm better than Mingi, right?"
♥ Creates his own sex playlist.
♥ Fan of NSFW Links
♥ Jerks off late at night in his studio. Also likes to touch himself in the shower.
♥ Saves his favourite parts of ff in a separate file.
♥ A moaning mess.
♥ Sometimes forgets his cocky behaviour and asks me to look after him.
♥ All in all very gentle and needy.
♥ Loves to be intimate.
♥ Reading works about Hwa on the sly: "That's my boy" - heartly.
♥ Likes to have conversations with me about kinks.
♥ Favourite AU! - Sugar Daddy, Wolf/Leopard Hybrids, Dilf, Pirate King, CEO
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Wooyoung - needy/brat bunny
♥ Found out about the blog by stealing Yeosang's phone. Poor guy choked on his protein shake when he saw Woo looking at the blog.
♥ Totally in love with everything that happens.
♥ Lives and breathes thanks to my work.
♥ Priest Wooyoung is his Roman Empire, rubbing it in everyone's face how fucking hot it was.
♥ He is shameless and open to the point of being impossible.
♥ DM messages 24/7 a day.
♥ He likes to flirt with the other bunnies.
♥ Likes to be called "Good boy / Sweetheart / Foxy".
♥ Will talk about anything and everything in the world.
♥ He deliberately upsets me so that he gets punished: "I've been such a bad bunny, is Mommy going to punish me?"
♥ Loves humiliation.
♥ Calls me "Mommy" in a very horny way.
♥ Spams me with the most depraved requests on a non-stop basis.
♥ Favourite AU! - Fox/Kitten hybrid, sugar baby, toxic boyfriend, religion, sugar daddy (he believes in his potential).
♥ Possesses jealousy: "I can be the only one, can't I?"
♥ Likes to deny himself an orgasm while reading - wants to cum with the characters.
♥ Always horny, so our correspondence tends to be more like a dirty-talking manual.
♥ Comfortably oversized clothes and bulging veins in his forearms.
♥ Favorite FF - 𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩
♥ He is incredibly affectionate: "Mommy, do you want me to take care of you? I'm going to behave, I promise".
♥ He will have the audacity to tell me that he masturbates and will ask me to help him with it.
♥ Incredibly loud when he's jerking off. Doesn't care who hears him. Has an amazing time and can't think of anything else.
♥ After a hard day, he loves jerking off in his bed. He takes his time and spreads the pleasure all over the place. Of course, he cum without permission.
♥ "I want to be punished, Mommy".♥ All in all, a soft loverboy.
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Yunho - shy/slutty bunny
♥ Finds out about the blog from Hwa. Follows him like a lost puppy until Seonghwa shares the link.
♥ He is a bit shy at first, but he quickly gets involved.
♥ He leaves comments and sends sweet messages to the inbox like an energetic and inspired bunny.
♥ Shy to DM me, but really wants to.
♥ Unholy hours are his thing.
♥ Has a tendency towards corruption kink, size kink, size training.
♥ Yungi is his favourite pairing.
♥ Obediently waits for the second part of BOTH.
♥ Prefers to be called "Pretty boy/Puppy/Sugar bunny".
♥ Calls me "My Lady", but wants to be strong enough to call me "Mistress".♥ Shyly asks for permission to touch himself "May I? Please"
♥ He had no idea how crazy everyone was about his hands until he'd read my work.
♥ Will definitely try putting them in his mouth before mirror to see how that works.
♥ Waiting for new posts like an impatient puppy.
♥ Very excited about the upcoming Priest Yunho fic. Secretly angry about the fact that Wooyoung is the only one who has had his own fic in this series so far.
♥ Favourite AU! - Sugar Daddy, Sub Idol, Yandere, Office, Wolf/Golden Retriever Hybrid
♥ Checks the blog a couple of times a day.
♥ Usually jerks off in the late hours of the night after everyone else has gone to bed.
♥ Cries and pants when he starts playing with himself.
♥ He likes to be overstimulated. He cums at least 3-4 times and brings himself to tears.
♥ He has a fake pussy that he can play with.
♥ "It's so fucking tight, fuck"
♥ He will definitely tell me what he did yesterday evening.
♥ Other than that, he is just a sweet, golden boy.
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Mingi - shameless/horny bunny
♥ He found out about the blog when Yunho accidentally spilled the beans about it.
♥ He fell in love immediately and forever.
♥ I'm definitely his favourite.
♥ Loves to read comments, has a big grin on his face all the time.
♥ Very full of himself.
♥ He gets horny too fast and is able to jerk off several times a day.
♥ Calls me "Mistress" in the most perverse manner.
♥ Sends me requests, writes in DMs, and wants my complete and all-consuming attention.
♥ Competing for be favourite bunny on the blog with Seonghwa.
♥ Prefers to be called "Dirty Boy/Fox".
♥ He will definitely write to me in DM to tell me how much he gets turned on by what I write.
♥ Receives a notification every time a new post is made.
♥ "You can put a collar around my neck and strangle me to death, mistress."
♥ He's waiting for a fic about himself as a fox hybrid, he thinks he'd look great with a bushy tail.
♥ DIRTY TALK
♥ He is very possessive: "I would hate to share you with anyone else".
♥ He tests my patience
♥ ℭ𝔯𝔞𝔷𝔶 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔪 is his religion.
♥ Favourite AU! - Pervert Idol, Sugar Daddy, Striptease/Sex Work, Professor Mingi, Vampire.
♥ He likes to stroke his dick while reading, he is in no hurry with the pleasure.
♥ "Are you going to punish me, Mistress? I've been such a naughty boy."
♥ To punish him, I decided to write down the most detailed dirt on him and send it to him at a totally unexpected time.
♥ He bites his lips and moans softly, swearing terribly.
♥ However, he adores me and will never stop complimenting me.
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Jongho - innocent/not innocent bunny
♥ He has no idea why his Hyungs are so obsessed with my blog. Figures it all out for himself through the search for my nickname on Tumblr.
♥ Thinks the whole dynamic between me and the bunnies is funny and he smiling all the time.
♥ Slowly becoming addicted.
♥ He is very interested in the Omegaverse and how it all works.
♥ The bunny that asks questions in the inbox.
♥ "What do I have to call you?" "Are there any rules to follow?" "How open can I be with you?"
♥ Sneaky sends requests about himself to the Unholy Hours
♥ 100% enabled new posts notifications
♥ Pisses off all the Hyungs by being friends with me.
♥ He and Yunho are the main gossips in the dorm and have discussions about everything and anything.
♥ A diligent and obedient bunny with a few hidden kinks.
♥ Loves hip riding, choking and spanking, these things makes him horny.
♥ He is having the time of his life.
♥ Favourite AU! - Sugar Daddy, Hard dom, Omegaverse, Idol x Idol
♥ Reads my blog all over the place, as if it were just a news portal.
♥ He is one of the most sociable bunnies, but he is still anonymous.
♥ My stories make him horny and he doesn't like to lose control of himself.
♥ He ends up masturbating in the bathroom, breathing heavily and biting the palm of his hand to stop himself from moaning out loud.
♥ Loves the idea of NSFW links. He secretly saves all the videos on his phone.
♥ Wants to be called "Darling/Sweet".
♥ He is very caring, so he is always on the lookout for my well-being.
♥ He feels very comfortable and has a lot of fun with me.
♥ He blushes like a school girl when I call him "Sugar Bunny"
189 notes · View notes
staytinyville · 10 months
Text
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Stay Alive (34)
BTS poly!ot7 x Reader
Magical Creatures AU
Series Masterlist
Warnings: none
A/N NOT BETA. I'm excited for the next chapter lol. There are going to be a lot of cameos from here on out.
Staytinyville Permanent Taglist
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Namjoon’s eyes felt heavy as a cold left from behind his eyes. He was able to open them fully, conscious over where he was. They were in a hospital looking room, waiting for someone to tell them something. All seven of them seemed to be awake and looking around in awe. Yoongi had been sitting next to Namjoon, turning when the man woke up. 
“What's going on?” He questioned, turning to find his coven mates waiting for him to wake up.
“We were put to sleep.” Yoongi explained. “We're back in Seoul.”
“Seoul!?” Namjoon stood up quickly, looking around in horror.
“Our Seoul.” Hoseok placed a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, giving him a kind smile. 
Namjoon could see the youngest boys all sitting around the bed next to him, finding his Hyungs around him. He also immediately noticed your grandfather sitting in a chair on the other wall. He suddenly felt anxiety creep into his chest when you weren’t in his line of sight.  
“Where's (Y/N)?” He asked quietly, turning when the younger boys moved to the side to show you on the bed. 
“She's still asleep.” Jin answered. “They said they can't wake her up.”
“Why?” Namjoon frowned. 
“Bang PD-nim has to be the one to wake her.” A new voice spoke up from the door of the room. 
All of the boys turned around to find someone who had been there for them since they were young adults. He was the person who took care of them when they were in training. The person who was in charge of making sure they didn’t feel like they were missing their family. Their stand in parent. 
“Sejin?” Namjoon whispered. 
“Hello, Namjoon.” The older man smiled, tears welling up in his eyes. 
Namjoon sniffled, finally coming to terms that he was in fact home. All those 10 years of aggression, pent up frustration, anxiety, fear, every little negative emotion that he harbored was suddenly all gone because here he stood in the building where he found his coven mates. 
He was home. He was going to see his family and friends again. He was whole. Especially knowing that you were going to be there to share it with him. 
“It's-It's been so long.” Namjoon choked up, getting up from the bed. 
“It has.” Sejin sniffled, quickly pulling the tall boy into a hug. “I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I tried—I really did try to find you boys.” He cried, hugging Namjoon tightly for fear of having him disappear again. 
“It's not your fault.” Namjoon pulled away, wiping at his cheeks. “We're home now. Thanks to (Y/N).” The two of them turned to you laying in the bed peacefully. 
The younger boys didn’t move much from your body, making sure to be touching you in some way to keep them assured you were still fine. Your chest rising and falling was enough to tell the others that you were in fact still alive and fine. 
They had all panicked when you came out of the water unconscious. If it hadn’t been for Seokjin’s quick thinking, something terrible might have happened to you. Namjoon couldn’t even begin to think about what could have gone wrong. 
“I see.” Sejin smiled kindly. “I owe her a lot then.” 
As the older man looked between all of the boys, the tears returned as he watched each of the boys look at you with some form of worry. He knew that they were going to be doting on you every step of the way. Especially when it meant they were going to be at home to show you their kind.
“Come on, Bang is ready to see you.” Sejin brought all of them out of their stupor, leading them towards where Bang and the council were waiting for them all. 
An ogre man walked into the room in order to take you to Bang, however Jimin was quick to stop him and pull you into his hold. “I got her.” He said, picking you up with ease as his natural abilities were being used. 
All 9 of them were led to a conference room where many people were waiting for them. And the moment they had entered, all of the people came to a stand and cheered. 
“Bangtan has returned!” An older man with glasses exclaimed, eyes tearing up. 
Bang Si-hyuk was known as the man who trained just great creatures and led them on paths that catered to greatness. He was one of the couple of people who had companies that helped others reach their full potential. Bangtan had been the first group he had experimented with. Taught Hobi and the others most of what they knew before they were kidnapped. 
He was a witch much like Hobi. Seen as one of the greatest known creatures in the entire world, he had lived a very long life so he knew a bunch of things others might not. So with his knowledge and expertise, he started a small company to teach others. 
“It's so good to finally see you boys.” He sniffled, patting Namjoon on the back. “I see the last 10 years haven't been well for you. Have they?” He suddenly sighed, looking somber. 
“We have a lot to discuss but first please Bang.” Namjoon moved to the side, allowing Jimin to walk forward with your grandfather alongside him. “Our mate has a spell block on her. It belongs to you.”
“Ah, little (Y/N).” Bang turned to your grandfather, giving him a bow of his head. “She has grown up healthy.” The man smiled to himself, watching as Jimin held you delicately. “I'm glad.” He turned back to your grandfather. 
“She's the one who found your boys.” He told Bang. 
“Then I guess the block won't be needed anymore.” Bang told himself. “Set her down.” He spoke to Jimin. 
The boy bent down to his knees, keeping you close to his chest as he set your body down in front of Bang. He stayed next to you, sweeping your hair from your face. Bang bent down on his knee, waving his hands over your head. A gray mist began to form as it seeped under your eyes and around your body. 
The boys almost made a sound as your body seemed to twitch at the magic, watching your eyelids begin to move. You took in a deep breath, as though waking up from a sleep slowly fluttering your eyes open. 
“There.” Bang smiled, coming to stand as you regained consciousness. 
“Jimin?” You sleepily called, seeing the boy's beautiful smile across his face as he held you in his arms. 
“Hi, Beautiful.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him. 
“Did we make it to your home?” You asked, letting go of him to look around for a moment. 
The room looked like a boardroom you would find in your own home. There wasn’t much of a difference, it looked modern compared to what you had been thinking. 
“We did.” Jimin told you. “And we're so excited to show you it.” He turned your head to look at him, thumb rubbing at your cheek. 
Once you felt your body coming back to you, you slowly looked around, noticing all the stares that the people in the room were giving you. You furrowed your eyebrows a bit, trying to find something in the boardroom that made it look like it was part of a magical world. 
However everything looked exactly as back home. You began to worried that you had somehow never made it to the boy’s world. When a man came into your view, your worries seemed to have passed as you watched some of his magic retreat back into his body. Your eyes went wide as you didn’t seem to feel any kind of pain from seeing it.
“Hello.” You politely spoke up. 
“Hello, dear.” The man smiled joyfully. “I am Bang Shi-Hyuk.” He bowed. 
“It's nice to meet you.” You smiled. 
He gave you one last grin before turning to look at the boys. As he stood up, Jimin helped you as well, holding you close just in case you fell over from the magic that might have still been running through your body. 
“I noticed something when I was taking the spell away.” He began. “She should have been in pain the moment she passed through the waters. However it seemed she was perfectly fine, so what did you do?” He asked the seven of them. 
“I gave her a kiss.” Hobi explained. 
“True love's kiss. Clever, son.” Bang smiled, nodding his head. 
You turned to him, raising your eyebrows as you thought about the kiss you had given Jungkook. You had no idea just how powerful a kiss like that really was. But if it seemed to take both you and Jungkook out of different kinds of spells it must mean it’s seen as something huge. 
“It was Jin who told us.” Taehyung smiled. “He's the only one who remembered it.”
“I'd never forget something like that.” Jin spoke up. 
“Onto the problem at hand.” Bang sighed somberly. “Tell me, who took you and all the others?” 
Your hand gripped onto Jimin’s, searching for the boy who on your other side to hold the other. Jungkook felt you touching him so he quickly gave your hand a squeeze, comforting you. 
“It was Myung Hanseol.” Namjoon answered, shoulders squared making him look bigger. 
He had authority rolling off him in waves. You knew he was the leader of the group but for some reason watching him take in the air of his home made him look so much more different. Like he was finally free–which he was–but this was more of a freedom that connected him to who he really is. 
They all looked that way. They walked with purpose, with a reason to be who they were meant to be. Being home really made them all feel different than they had thought. Most people would have had trauma after being in captivity for so long but these boys were strong. They were ready to fight at any given moment. 
It made you want to cry over how much they went through just to be oppressed the way they were. You knew them, but you didn’t know the real them. The real them were the people standing around you in protection with their chest raised and heads held high. It was who they were meant to be. 
“So I see.” Bang sighed, looking down. He took a glance at your grandfather who gave him a small bow of his head. 
“I think it best for you boys to take (Y/N) and rest.” Bang clapped, going back to smiling brightly. “I'm sure your family will want to see you all as soon as possible.” He gave Namjoon a pat on his back. 
All seven of them sighed out, dropping their shoulders as tears pooled in their eyes thinking about their families. They gave everyone a bow as the people in the room clapped, turning to leave.
“And boys?” Bang called. “It's great to have you back.” He turned to you. “Thank you for bringing them home.” 
Just as you reached the door, you heard Bang speak again, this time to your grandfather. 
“(G/N), do you mind if we talk for a moment?” His expression took a turn, looking somber. 
“Of course.”
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Series Masterlist
@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkud, @rln-byg , @singukieee ,  @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @k-p0p-4ever , @shadowyjellyfishfest , @forestsquirrel , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoopp , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @girl-nahh-two , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @oemmi2005 , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumuu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @bts-4-life-ot7 , @woozixo, @serveruslovebot , @vintageoldfashion ,
Are you guys being tagged?? Please tell me if you are just in case I need to fix something.
191 notes · View notes
larluce · 5 months
Text
Merlin as Arthur's familiar/Arthur's shapeshifter falcon AU
@dsabian , @theplatanitosqueal , @stressed-but-chill , @gregre369 , @chaosofbelievers , @thelordofabsolutelynothing , @another-tblr-fangirl , @aceauthorcatqueen , @smileytrinity
LINK TO THE OTHER PARTS: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 (You're here) , PART 8
Arthur and Merlin caring for the chicks that are now a week old and twice the size they were the day they were born.
Arthur: How do they grow so fast? They barely fit in the nest now.
Chick 3: (leaves the nest)
Arthur: No! Go back to the nest, you… uh… Who was this? The ink erased.
Merlin:  It's 3! 😠 How come you still can't recognize them?
Arthur: (as he grabs 3 and returns him to the nest) Merlin, they are identical.
Merlin: They're not! 😠
Arthur: Well, I guess it would help not to think of them as numbers. What if we give them real names now?
Merlin: (surprised) Really?
Arthur: They're our chicks, aren't they? We can name them if we want.
Merlin: (excited) Yeah, it's true! 😃 But I'll do it. You're terrible at giving names.
Arthur: Go ahead.
Merlin: (brings his hand closer to the chicks, thoughtful) hmmm…
Chicks: (they cower in place and chirp in fear)
Chick 1: (stands in front of his siblings, protective)
Merlin: This one is very protective of his siblings. He was also the first to be born. I name you... Guardian 😊.
Arthur: That's a good name.
Chick 3: (leaves the nest again and walks to the edge of the window)
Merlin: (he grabs him to return him to the nest, while 3 chirps in protest) This one wants to fly before he's even old enough to do it. Restless and fast…. Like a Blizzard! 😃
Arthur: Blizzard it is then.
Chick 4: (pecks Merlin's hand to make him let go of his brother)
Arthur: Hey, don't hurt your father. 😠
Merlin: It's okay, they're not used to my human form yet. Their little heads still don't understand that I'm also the hawk that feeds them. (He releases Blizzard in the nest and 4 stops pecking him) He has the guts to confront me, but he stopped doing it as soon as I let go of his brother. He fights, but he is not reckless. You will be... Brave 😊.
Arthur: Just two more left.
Merlin: (looking at chick 2) You're the only female. You will be beautiful and tender. Like the rain.
Arthur: (confused) What's beautiful and tender about rain?
Merlin: The sound it makes when the drops fall is tender and it is a beautiful phenomenon that gives water to plants.
Arthur: Uh… I guess. Rain it is.
Chick 5: (hiding behind all his siblings and shaking)
Merlin: This one is too wimpy. I name you... Coward.
Arthur: (very offended) You're not naming our son Coward! 😠
Merlin: Why not?
Arthur: That's an insult! Do you want the other birds to make fun of him?
Merlin: The other birds don't have names, Arthur. 😒
Arthur: All the more reason! How would you feel if I had named you Coward?
Merlin: It would have been more creative than Merlin.
Arthur: Besides, the fact that he is more shy than his siblings doesn't make him a coward. He's just more… cautious? No, wary! We'll name him Wary.
Merlin: Oh… It doesn't sound bad.
Arthur:  So… (points to each one) Guardian, Rain, Blizzard, Brave and Wary.
Merlin: No, that is Guardian and that is Brave.
Arthur: I got three out of five, I'm getting better.
Merlin: (he rolls his eyes, but then smiles, looking at the nest tenderly) Our chicks.
Time skip. Arthur and Merlin chasing the 2 week old chicks that are chirping loudly and running around the room.
Arthur: (With Rain in one hand and chasing Brave) Brave, come back here! 😠
Merlin: (Grabs Guardian with one hand) I told you not to leave the nest so close to the ground.
Arthur: That unstable thing was going to fall out the window at any moment with how fast they grow!
Merlin: Then you should have put it on top of the wardrobe!
Arthur: That's still too high!
Merlin: That's the point!
Arthur: Stop fighting and find Blizzard, that's the sneaky one. (He catches Brave with his free hand) Got you! Little winged demons, why can't you be like Wary?
Wary: (chirps from the nest, the only one who stayed there)
Merlin: Blizzard! Blizzard! (He searches and doesn't find him) Where is he?
Arthur: Blizzard! (He starts searching too) I'm supposed to be getting ready for the dance. If I don't come down soon my father is going to come any momen-
Merlin: (stops searching and looks at Arthur with a frown) Dance? what dance?
Arthur: (realizing his poor choice of words) Feast! I meant feast. My father organized a feast for my birthday. (Turns around) Blizzard?
Merlin: (stands in front of Arthur) And who is going to that feast? 😑
Arthur: You know, my father, Morgana… some noble men and women. (Turns again) Blizzard?
Merlin: (stands in front of Arthur again) And what do you do there? 😑
Arthur: Just talk and chat-
Merlin: And dance! 😠 You're going to go dancing with a female weeks after starting our nest!
Arthur: It's not a flying dance. It's a different kind of dance. It doesn't mean anything.
Merlin: Then don't go!
Arthur: I can't not go! It is the celebration of the prince's birthday. Everyone expects me to be there. It's an important event.
Merlin: You said it didn't mean anything! 😡
Guardian: (chirps in pain)
Arthur: Merlin, you're holding Guardian too tight, put him down.
Merlin: (raises his voice, furious) Exactly! You should be ashamed. (He brings Guardian close to his chest and caresses him with tears in his eyes) While I'm going to be here taking care of our chicks 🥺, you're going to go dance with someone else! 😡
Arthur: (raises his voice too) It's not that kind of dance! 😡
Rain and Brave: (chirp crying in Arthur's arms) 🥺😭
Guardian: (chirps crying in Merlin's arms) 🥺😭
Wary: (chirps crying and leaves the nest to go with Merlin and Arthur) 🥺😭
Blizzard: (comes out from under the bed chirp crying and goes to Merlin and Arthur) 🥺😭
Merlin: (calms down, picks up Blizzard and Wary and comforts them along with Guardian) Shh, Shh, don't cry. Don't worry, even if your dad leaves us, I will take care of you. We will find another nest.
Arthur: Don't tell them that! (hugging Rain and Brave, also comforting them) No, I'm not going to leave you, don't cry.
Uther: (from outside, enraged) Arthur!
Merlin: (changes into bird form quickly)
Arthur: Shit! (Tries to pick up the other chicks to hide them)
Uther: (opens the door wide abruptly) May I know why you aren’t letting the servants enter to get you ready for… (shocked to see his son carrying two white birds and to see Merlin falcon with 3 others white birds on the floor)
Chicks: (chirp crying louder) 😭😭
Arthur: Uh… Hello, father 😅. Ahm… Did I mention that Merlin had chicks?
Uther: I thought he was male 🤨
Arthur: He is, but uh… he adopted these chicks.
Merlin: (chirps)
Arthur: (corrects himself)  WE adopted them.
Servant: (enters and bows) Sire, the guests have arrived.
Uther: (swallowing the urge to scold his son) We'll talk about this later. Now I want you in the ballroom in 5 minutes.
Arthur: But-
Uther: 5 minutes I said! I don't care how, but you'll arrive there in 5 minutes. Not a second more. Do I make myself clear?
Arthur: (lowers his head) Yes, father.
Uther: (leaves)
Servants: (come in to dress Arthur)
Merlin: (starts flying around them and pecking at them)
Arthur: Merlin, stop it. I have to go.
Merlin: (lands on a servant's head and chirps, looking at him enraged) 😡
Servant: Uh… sire? 😰
Arthur: I'll handle this. (He puts the chicks aside and addresses Merlin in a sweet calm voice) Merlin, come down from there and I promise I won't dance with anyone at the feast, alright?
Merlin: (shakes his head and chirps)
Arthur: Oh, come on! 😠 What do you want me to do? Take you with me?
Time skip. In the ballroom.
Spokesman: (raising his voice) Attention, ladies and gentlemen, greet the Prince of Camelot.
Arthur: (arrives at the ballroom with Merlin on his shoulder and carrying the nest with his chicks on a cushion in his hands)
Uther: …
Servants: …
Morgana: (holding back the urge to laugh)
Guests: (mumble)
Spokesman: Uh… (raises voice again) The Prince of Camelot and his birds!
Merlin: (chirps in protest)
Arthur: (whispers to the spokesman) Merlins.
Spokesman: Excuse me, sire?
Arthur: They're merlins.
Spokesman: Oh, forgive me, Sire (bows and steps aside to let him pass)
Arthur: (doesn't move)
Spokesman: Sire?
Arthur: I'm waiting.
Spokesman: (confused) For what, sire?
Arthur: For you to correct it.
Spokesman: Oh, right. (He raises his voice again) The Prince of Camelot and his merlins!
Merlin: (nods, satisfied)
Arthur: (walks to the main table and takes his place in the seat of honor, which is next to his father's and Morgana's seat)
Morgana: (smirking mischievously) Oh, this is going to be gold.
...
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127 notes · View notes
lincolndjarin · 1 year
Text
Oh Honey. ✩ Chapter 2
chapter two : beware the jabberwock
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series masterlist ao3 kofi main masterlist
a/n : took a while to get out but here is chapter two !!! i have a lot of fun writing this fic bc the pacing is so much different than bks but i'm excited to get this chapter out bc i loved writing it so much and i'm so happy that people enjoy this fic so far !!
pairing : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader
rating : 18+ mdni - explicit content, read all warnings
word count : 15.1k (i'm so sorry idk what happened)
summary : new relationships are tricky, especially when your boyfriend likes to disappear for several days with no explanation.
warnings, etc. : dub con?? i'm gonna tag this with that because the sex is like weird in this?? a lot of it is angry or reluctant from one participant at times so i'm gonna tag it just in case, soulmates au, no outbreak au, language, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, fear, feeling of being stalked, feeling of being watched, me making up things regarding the embalming process, animal death, graphic description of the mortuary process, menstruation, derealization (sort of), smut, oral f!recieving, p in v, biting, just like a lot of mouth stuff lmao, cum eating, rough sex, degradation, sort of dumbification, joel is a bit beastly, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise, use of the pet name bunny, nightmares, periods, menstruation, joel is a terrible boyfriend, angry sex, injury, blood, blood drinking, manipulation, not a/b/o but something i made up that is sort of along those lines??, body horror, monsters, predator & prey dynamic, a lot of stuff happens this chap so i might have missed some sorry!!, no physical description of reader but joel is described as being abnormally strong and does pick reader up, there is no actual fucking of a monster yet we can't just do that right out the gate it's a thriller it destroys the thrill if they fuck immediately, that being said; this is a monster fucker fic - proceed accordingly
comments and reblogs are appreciated!
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You don’t sleep well after your dream.
Just staring up at the ceiling until the sun is starting to shine through the windows. 
Not that you’ve been sleeping well recently to begin with. And Joel suddenly feels less safe, the grip of his arms around you feels more like it’s trapping you rather than protecting you.
It’s Joel. 
Just take a deep breath. 
It’s Joel. Joel Miller. Sweet, handsome, kind, Joel Miller. Joel who came back, even though you assumed you’d never hear from him again. 
It was nothing more than a dream. 
Stop making up monsters. 
You slip out of his arms, quietly making your way over to the fridge to try and find something to make for breakfast. You haven’t gone shopping in a while, all you’ve got is half a loaf of bread and a few eggs. Good enough. Clicking the stove on you set a pan down, cracking the eggs with a small sizzle as they hit the metal. 
“Up already?” You didn’t hear him wake but when you turn he’s propped up on an elbow watching you. 
“Couldn’t sleep.” Not technically a lie. 
“Are you okay?” He sits up a bit and you can feel him sizing you up. 
“Yeah, I’m fine.” 
You aren’t really. 
But you can’t really tell him why, so why bother. 
He stretches his arms above his head as he gets up, making his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and resting his head on your shoulder as you flip the eggs. 
“Hungry?” You’re desperate to think about anything but your dreams, as you speak his grip around your waist tightens. 
“I could eat.” You shudder for several reasons as his teeth graze your neck before nipping at you. 
“These should be done in a few minutes, I just gotta make the toast.” You laugh softly as the scruff of his beard brushes against you. 
He makes it too easy to forget your fears. 
“Mhmm.” The vibrations from his humming make you gasp, nearly dropping the spatula in your hand as he squeezes you for a moment. You work around his advances, putting the bread in the toaster as one of his hands slips under your shirt. 
“How many do you want?” You hold up the bread in front of him, trying to get him to pay attention but it’s getting difficult to stay focused on your task when something is currently pressing against your ass. 
“I think I’m fine with just this.” He squeezes the bare flesh of your torso making you yelp a bit as his hand drifts further up. 
“What happened to your third date rule?” He groans as you reach over to the stove, turning the burner off to keep the eggs from burning before turning around in his arms, your back pressed against the counter. 
“We should go to dinner tonight.” He smiles before leaning forward to kiss you but you put a hand between his mouth and yours. 
“What makes you think I’ve forgiven you enough to warrant another date?”
He pouts. His bottom lip sticking out a bit as he frowns. 
“Wouldn’t matter if I did anyway, it would only be the second date.” You shrug. 
“Last night was the second date.” He says rather matter of factly. 
“That didn’t count.” You can’t help the smile that threatens to form on your as his frown deepens. 
“So you wanna wait for two more dates.” 
Definitely not.
“Tonight?” For a brief moment you try and think of anything else you might be doing but you don’t exactly have a social life here in Honey. 
“S’gotta be, I’m spending tomorrow with Ellie and then I’ll be busy with work, gotta catch up on some things.”
Why would he need to catch up if he’s been busy all week?
“Tonight works.” Even after what he put you through you still feel the strangest pull towards him, dragging him to the table with you as you set down a couple plates. 
“I’ll be here at eight?” He sits, an accomplished look on his face. 
“Works for me.”
You have an uneventful breakfast. 
Neither one of you talks about his disappearing act. And eventually he has to leave for work and so do you, so he gets his things together once you eat.
“Get dressed, I’ll drive you to Maria’s, I gotta pick up Tommy anyway.” He takes a sip of whatever juice you had left over in the fridge as you nod, finding something clean to wear before following him out to the truck. 
He makes it too easy.
He smiles like everything is fine and he holds your hand as he drives.
“Have a good day at work.” You return his smile and he leans across the truck cab to kiss your forehead.
“You too, I’ll see you tonight.”
“See you tonight.” You wave at him as you walk up to the house, Tommy’s just leaving, giving you a pat on the back as he passes you before jumping in the truck with his brother. With a weak smile you watch them go. 
There are no bodies today.
It’s a paperwork day for both of you. You know Maria’s dying to ask about what happened but she never does, just staring up at you every once in a while, always looking like she’s about to say something before choosing not to. 
You decide to throw her a bone. 
“I’m having dinner with Joel tonight.” You can’t ignore the surprised smile on her face. 
“I’m glad you two seem to be getting along.”
“Yeah, apparently he got caught up in his work for a few days.” You try and get a reaction out of her but she goes emotionless, giving you only a hum in response. 
You don’t try to start another conversation after that until you say good night at the end of your shift. Giving her a small wave before stepping into the misty evening air. 
You keep your eyes on the trees the entire walk home but nothing seems out of sorts and before you know it you’re safe in the camper.
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You’re dressed and ready to go when the truck pulls up. You aren’t sure where exactly you’re supposed to be going but you’re ready nonetheless, deciding on just jeans and a plain tshirt. What you aren’t expecting is when Joel steps out of the truck with grocery bags and a grin plastered on his face.
“I thought we could cook together.” He says as he makes his way up the steps inside. 
“You know how to cook?” You try not to sound as surprised as you are but he just laughs. 
“I have two kids. I know how to cook.” He sets the bag on the counter and you open it, he’s brought bread, cheese, and cans of tomato soup. 
“What exactly do you plan on cooking?”
“Grilled cheese.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and any worries you had about tonight go out the window. 
“You really went all out for tonight.” You raise your eyebrows at him.
He nods, searching through the cabinets for a pan and a pot. 
“When you said cook together you meant you cook and I watch, right?” You lift yourself up onto the counter as he lights the stove. 
“Obviously.” He sets everything down and you watch him fish around the top of the fridge for a few seconds before pulling down a rather dusty old radio. “I knew she had one somewhere.” He grins as he sets it down beside you, plugging it in and fidgeting with the knobs until the static turns into music. 
You don’t recognize the song that plays but he does, as he hums along, opening the two cans, emptying them into the pot. 
You had been so nervous about tonight, nightmares aside, you had expected a totally different Joel, the kind of person who ignores you for a week and expects immediate forgiveness. But instead he continues to be just Joel. Joel, who’s very presence lulls you into an overpowering sense of comfort. The moment he stepped inside the camper the entire space became heavy with his cologne, everything smells like the forest, as if you’re surrounded by pine trees and not the four walls around you. 
“We should do something this week.” He turns to you as he butters the bread, setting it in the pan with a quiet sizzle. 
“Don’t you have work, and Ellie?” You tear open the plastic wrapper on the cheese, handing him a few slices. 
“I do, but I can get Tommy to watch her for a night.” He tosses them down onto the bread before opening a drawer, riffling around until he finds a spatula. 
You hum along to the music with him when the song changes to something familiar, watching him cook. 
He looks at home with you, like he belongs right here. 
You both laugh your way through dinner, it’s outrageous how charming he can be, he tells you about the house he’s building, and how his brother ordered the wrong kind of cement. (You didn’t know there was a wrong kind.) And he tells you about how Ellie’s picked up some curse words, apparently there’s quite an argument happening between the Millers regarding who she learned them from. 
You’ve always been hesitant to talk about work, especially on dates because you never know how people are going to react. Not everyone has the same relationship with death that you have. So when he says, how has working for Maria been? You aren’t exactly sure what to say. 
“It’s good.” 
“That’s it? It’s good?” He looks up at you, giving you that lopsided fucking smirk and you can’t help but just melt at the sight of it. 
“We’ve been… busy, lots of work the last few days, now we’re just funeral planning, this week we’ve got a funeral pretty much everyday, Maria’s swamped.” 
“What made you choose this line of work?”
You never really know how to answer that question. 
“Because I like to play with dead things.” Never gets the laugh you hope for, and the real answer just makes you sad.  
“I like to fix things.” You instinctively break eye contact, staring down at an uneven floor board you’d never noticed before under the table. “I like knowing that I can help people in that way, to fix them one last time.” 
For a moment he doesn’t speak, when you look back up at him he simply looks at you with something that resembles yearning. 
“That’s nice.” 
You’re glad he thinks so. 
He takes the dishes, rinsing them in the sink despite your protests. 
Your palms are getting clammy. 
This is, by his count, your third date. 
Is it weird that this feels scheduled? It was different when you’d brought him home after your first date, that felt natural, your body innately wanted to be with him. How do you even start this kind of thing when it feels so planned? You both know what you want but it feels strange to just outright say, so is this the part where we have sex? 
He dries his hands on his jeans and clears his throat as he turns back to you, holding his hand out, you aren’t really sure what he’s doing until he pulls you up from your seat, wrapping his other arm around your waist.
It isn’t the kind of song you can slow dance to, it’s fast and upbeat.
But as far as you can tell, Joel isn’t the kind of guy who dances in the first place, so you bring your free hand up to his shoulder and join him in his attempts to dance. 
I heat up, I can't cool down
You got me spinning
There isn’t a lot of floor space in the camper but he makes it work by holding you close and mostly just spinning you as he nods along to the music.
'Round and 'round
'Round and 'round and 'round it goes
If his goal was to put you at ease then it’s working, any remaining nerves you have fizzled out completely. You laugh in earnest, not out of fear, as he bumps his nose against yours. 
Where it stops nobody knows
Every time you call my name
I heat up like a burning flame
Burning flame full of desire
Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher
He keeps his forehead flush with yours as you continue to sway your hips back and forth to the beat, the both of you laughing and spinning, you watch curiously as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. 
Abra abracadabra
I wanna reach out and grab ya
Abra abracadabra
Abracadabra
With a satisfied sigh he opens his eyes, his gaze going from simple infatuation to something darker. When the song ends he pulls you close, so you’re chest to chest and reaches over, turning down the radio. 
“So…” You can’t stop smiling as you stare at him through your lashes. 
“So.” He gently guides you, his hands on your hips as he walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 
“I’ve got a long day tomorrow, I should probably get some sleep.” You give him an exaggerated yawn and point at the bed, plastering a mock apologetic look on your face. 
“You’re really funny.” He leans down to give you a chaste kiss before picking you up. His strength is still a wonder to you. 
The way he throws you down onto your bed makes you erupt into a fit of giggles but he certainly isn’t laughing anymore as he drags you by your ankles to the edge of the mattress, a look of concentration on his face now. 
“Joel!” You shriek as you hear the tearing of the zipper on your jeans. 
“M’sorry.” He grumbles, making no effort to slow down as he tugs them down. 
He doesn’t sound sorry.
“It’s a zipper, just unzip it for Christ's sake.” His sudden change in demeanor leaves you a little breathless, in the blink of an eye he’s gone from remarkably gentle to practically unhinged.
“S’too late for that.” He groans softly as he kneels on the camper floor, throwing your legs over his shoulders. 
“You owe me a new pair-” Your voice trails off into a stuttered moan as his mouth latches onto the front of your panties, dragging his tongue over the wet spot that’s been forming all night. 
“We can go to the mall sometime this week.” He mumbles against your cunt before you feel his teeth grazing the fabric before tearing it apart completely. 
“Jesus, Joel!” Instinctively your hands grip his hair as he buries his face between your legs. 
How sharp are his teeth? 
He’s all consuming. Like he’s trying to lay claim to every single part of you. And he’s loud, it’s a good thing you don’t have neighbors. Lewd slurping noises as he laps at your dripping hole like it’s his fucking job. 
He flattens his tongue, dragging it through your folds, for a moment you aren’t sure what he’s doing, but it feels fucking amazing. The way his tongue moves in and out of you, occasionally drawing a lazy circle around your clit, it isn’t like anything anyones ever done before. It takes you a moment to realize that he isn’t necessarily trying to make you feel good (despite the effect it may be having on you,) you’re pretty sure he’s tasting you. 
Drinking you in. If he’s trying to get you off it’s only because he wants more. 
“S’ so sweet.” He mumbles against your thigh, biting the meat there making you cry out a bit before he returns to his work between your legs. 
“Joel- fuck, Joel please.” You manage to stutter out between gasps, when did he become so gruff? You never could have predicted that he would be like this in bed, his grip on you is certain to leave bruises and you can barely think straight after just a few minutes with his head between your thighs. The noises he makes as his lips wrap around your clit are down right pornagraphic. Your vision is starting to go white around the edges as he does the first gentle thing since he started, sucking that bundle of nerves almost lazily. Through shuttered breaths you manage to mumble out his name a few more times your vision whites out completely. 
You’re a little surprised at how quickly he manages to pull an orgasm from you, your skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat as you sit up, pulling him up by his hair as you crash your lips against his, tasting your own slick on his tongue. He moves so feverishly as you feel his hands spreading you again, teasing your entrance with two fingers before slowly pushing them in. 
“Joel- oh my god-” He silences your rambling with his mouth again, swallowing your groan once he’s knuckle deep inside you. His brows furrow in concentration as he starts to pump them in and out of you. “P-please.” You stammer out. 
It’s such a sharp contrast to the Joel you’re used to, he’s so… unruly. 
“So fucking tight.” He mutters before grinding his palm against your clit, pulling another series of gasps from your throat. “Such a pretty, tight, wet cunt.” He whispers against your jaw and you feel a third finger pushing into you. 
You hadn’t expected him to be so vulgar, turns out he’s only all southern manners outside of the bedroom. You’re starting to see stars all over again as you feel the stretch of his thick fingers, he nips at your jaw before pressing them in deep, focusing on grinding the heel of his palm into your clit until you’re soaking his hand, hands tugging at his hair as a second orgasm is ripped out of you with a shudder. Your head falls back with a noisy whine, you can’t decide if you want more or less, his touch burns your skin but you feel so cold without it.  
“Please, please Joel.” You exhale the words, scratching lightly at his shoulders with a whine. 
“Tell me what you want.” His voice is lower than ever and you watch as he unzips his jeans, shoving them off and taking his cock in between his fingers, still slick with your release. Your eyes go wide as he strokes himself a few times, he’s thick, hefty, you’re trying not to stare slack-jawed at the way he fills his own hand.  You grab the bottom of his shirt, pulling it off in an attempt to feel more of his skin against you.
“Fuck me… please.” You tack on the please at the end hoping he doesn’t make you wait much longer as you gawk at his pretty tan skin. You don’t even know where to look, you run your fingers through the coarse sprinkle of black and gray hair on his chest as he crawls further up the bed to hover above you.
He takes your thighs, pushing them up against your stomach, his eyes dark with something reminiscent of hunger. You hook your own arms around your knees to keep yourself in that position as he takes hold of his cock once more, guiding himself into you with a strangled groan.
“Christ…” He mumbles under his breath as he slides just the tip of himself in, your own breath hitching at the size of him. He tilts head town, pressing a soft kiss to your chin. 
He splays his palms out on your thighs, leveraging himself as he carefully rocks his hips back and forth, slowly working himself into you. The camper fills with the sounds of your collective noises. Joel is loud. Grunting and growling as he fully buries himself in your heat. 
He scans your face for signs of distress, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, the tiniest sting from the stretch pulls a whine out of you but you only nod as he stares into your eyes. 
“More, Joel.”
Once he has your approval he starts moving, setting a pace that for a few thrusts is slow before picking up. Quickly becoming downright brutal, every slam of his pelvis against yours drives his cock deeper into you. He feels as if he was made for this, he’s just big enough that it doesn’t hurt, simply an overwhelming feeling of fullness. 
Your body begins to tense up all over again, you wrap your arms around his torso as much as you can in this position, scratching at his back. He leans forward, going in for a kiss before moving around your face, kissing your jaw, forehead, nose, and temples. When he kisses the apples of your cheeks you feel his tongue darting out. 
Did he just lick up a tear? 
He snaps his hips forward, disrupting your train of thought, his teeth barred as he does so, eyes fixed on every one of your reactions. He’s practically snarling as you let your head fall back against the mattress, the head of his cock driving into your g-spot.
“Wanna come again already, bunny?” You make a real spectacle of yourself, hooking your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in deeper. “Greedy little thing…”
“Joel please-”
“Joel please.” He mocks. “Is that all you can say now?” You keen softly but he only grins as you tighten around him. 
“P-please…” You squeak out as he snaps hips forward once more. 
“Come again, I wanna feel this pretty cunt come.” He snarls against your neck, leaving a trail of bites until he reaches your shoulder, a particularly harsh bite has you crying out.
“Joel!” You grit your teeth, a wave of heat washes over you as you come one last time, you feel his tongue dragging across the bite mark. 
It’s all so close to being painful.
Your stomach aches from the overstimulation, and you register a faint stinging feeling when he laps at the bite. Your walls clench around him, strangling his cock, and his hands instantly leave your legs, gripping the sheets instead.  
“Fuck, fuck.” He barely pulls out in time, coming on your stomach. You reach down in your haze, scooping some of his load onto your finger before sliding them between your lips. 
Fucking salted caramel. 
Sweet and sticky on your tongue. 
He pants above you, watching with an intoxicated look as you dip your fingers into his cum over and over again until your stomach is bare.
He nudges his nose against yours, rubbing every part of his face against you for a few minutes. It’s wildly intimate and you're once again a little taken aback by his sudden tone shift. 
“Was that okay?” He drawls, once again searching your face for any indication that you might not be. 
You nod, beaming up at him and letting him rest the bridge of his nose on yours for a few moments more before you slip out of his arms, stepping into the bathroom. You relieve yourself before going to sort yourself out in the mirror. 
You’re bleeding. 
Where he bit you, two mirroring crescents, red and angry on your shoulder, leaking blood. 
“Shit.” You grab a handful of toilet paper, wiping it clean before rinsing it in the sink and returning to him.  
“Everything okay?” He’s pulled his boxers on, tossing you his shirt which you’re eager to put on. You don’t want him to see the bite. 
“Everything’s fine.” You crawl back up into the bed beside him. 
He stays the night, pulling you to his chest and caging you in with his arms. 
And you aren’t haunted by dreams. 
In the morning a part of you worries he’ll disappear all over again, you’re a little surprised when he texts you just a few minutes after he drives off.  [ can’t wait to see you again soon bunny ]
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Joel follows through on his promise. 
A few days later he picks you up from work and drives you to the outlet mall about an hour away, saying he needs to get some stuff for Ellie as well. Apparently she likes to throw plates so he wants to find the kind that suction onto the table. As he drives the radio plays a country song you don’t recognize which he hums along to as you watch the trees outside the window. 
“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about my aunt.” He turns the music down once you start speaking. 
“Darlene? You probably know her better than I do.” He doesn’t seem very eager to talk about her but it only makes you want to know more. 
“Doubt it. All I know about her is that she wasn’t close with anyone in my family.”
“You weren’t close? But she left you her camper.”
“That’s why I need to know anything you might know about her, I know nothing.” He seems hesitant and you’re worried if you keep pushing it he won’t tell you anything at all. 
“She was a lonely old woman, had me fix things for her often, I honestly think she just wanted company.” His voice softens a bit as he says it. 
“She didn’t have friends here in Honey?” 
“Not that I know of, she was a bit of a shut in, sweetest woman I’ve ever met, just a bit… skittish. She worked from home and I’m pretty sure someone delivered her groceries. The only time I ever saw her outside was when I was fixing her roof and she sat in a lawn chair to talk to me while I did.” 
“She worked from home?” 
“Yeah, something on her laptop, I’m not entirely sure.” You’ve never seen a laptop. 
You’ve been living in the camper for nearly six months and you’ve never seen a laptop. 
But that’s not what interests you the most right now. 
“What do you mean by skittish?” You’re trying to gauge his reaction but he doesn’t seem to have one. 
“Maybe skittish isn’t the right word. Eccentric? Some of the kids in town called her ditzy Darlene.” His expression sours as he says it. 
“That’s horrible.”
“It was.”
“Why?” He seems more reluctant than ever but now you’re just upset on behalf of the woman who left you everything.
“She fed into a lot of the legends around town, and didn't seem to have any hobbies outside of monster hunting.”
“Monster hunting?”
“She was the only local who went to the gift shops, searching for a monster she swears she saw.”
Sounds familiar.
“Did she ever find any?” 
“Monsters?” He laughs. “Not that I know of.”
“Did you think she was crazy?”
“I think she was lonely, and I think when you spend that much time alone your mind can wander.”
“But did you think she was crazy?” 
“No.” He puts an end to the conversation by putting the truck in park. You hadn’t even realized you were there, the outlet mall is so small. His southern manners remain persistent as he jogs around the truck to open your door for you, holding onto you to provide balance as you hop out.
You aren’t sure where anything is so you just follow him, taking his hand in yours as you walk. He takes you into a clothing store you don’t recognize the name of and waits patiently as you try on a few different pairs of jeans. It’s been quite some time since you’ve bought new clothes so you get a few pairs, you’re worried it’s boring for him to just wait outside the changing room but when you walk out with three pairs slung over your arm he still looks happy as can be. When you go to pay he opens his wallet, silencing your protests with a reminder that it’s his fault you needed new jeans in the first place. 
After that he takes his time, the two of you walk hand in hand through each store, he doesn’t even look around most of them, seemingly content with just spending time with you. 
He manages to find a few rubber bowls with suction cup bottoms for Ellie as well as some spanish flashcards and you decide to get a pair of blue hiking boots, if you’re gonna be walking everywhere you might as well be comfortable. 
At the last store you stop at you find a nice perfume, spraying a bit into the air and inhaling. It reminds you of springtime, it’s light, floral, but when Joel catches a whiff of it he scrunches his nose up. 
“You don’t like it?” You set the bottle back down. 
“I like the way you smell now.” You frown, trying to remember what shampoo and body wash you’ve been using. If you recall correctly it’s just some generic brand you’d bought ages ago. 
“I didn’t know you spoke spanish?” You remark, pointing at the bag containing the cards, opting to just change the subject rather than give yourself a headache trying to remember. 
“I don’t, but Sarah does and she’s been insisting I teach Ellie while she’s gone, something about it being better if she’s bilingual.”
“I think that’s sweet.” You swing your arms a bit, keeping his hand in yours as he walks you out of the store and in the direction of the truck. 
“Of course you think it’s sweet, you're not the one with two daughters who will be using their secret language against you.” He takes his keys from his pocket, clicking the unlock button. 
“It’s not a secret language, if your baby can learn it then I’m sure you can.” He helps you up into the truck once more, shutting the door behind you.
It’s almost comically difficult to keep your hands off him when you’re alone, especially now that you have a taste for him. Even just being in the truck with the windows up is suffocating, the smell of his aftershave or his laundry detergent drives you mad the moment you’re stuck in an enclosed space with him. 
You slide across the truck so you’re in the middle seat as he pulls out of the parking lot. It’s like you feel sick when you aren’t touching him, like you’re suffering from this barely noticeable nausea and you don’t realize you were even dealing with it until it’s gone. 
You watch curiously as he keeps one hand on the wheel and brings the other to rest on your thigh. His shoulders relax the moment he does, his frown lines smooth themselves out a bit. 
He’s just so warm, and he’s so nice to be near. Today he smells like a candle you used to have, something you lit around Christmas time. He smells like cookies and peppermint. 
You can’t help but turn your head a bit, trying to discreetly inhale the scent of his jacket.
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To say that Joel Miller becomes the perfect boyfriend would be an understatement. 
He drives you to work, he sends you flowers, (which gets confusing in a funeral home.) he holds open doors, and he always texts you back. 
Quite literally everything gets better once he’s back in your life. 
You don’t get anymore mangled bodies, only a few from the nursing home and one from a nearby hospital, it’s mostly just funeral planning these days. You see Joel daily, Maria and Tommy seem a little surprised every time he dotes on you and you can’t help but wonder what he’s done to earn such a reaction, but he’s so sweet you hardly care. Between both of you working and him having a toddler you’re shocked he makes as much time for you as he does. You see him every morning when he takes you into work but he also insists on seeing you twice a week, whether it’s going out, or ordering in, or just dragging him into your bed, he always makes time for you. 
You even spend a little time with Ellie. Joel spends a lot of time with her at the funeral home so you often see her in little doses, she seems indifferent towards you which worries you until you realize she acts that way towards everyone but her father. It’s remarkable to watch him with her, he’s soft with you but with her it’s something else entirely. She sticks to him like glue and you’ve never once seen him look bothered by that fact, you assume she’d get bored just sitting in his arms but she never does. He likes to tell her jokes and you aren’t even sure she understands them but without fail she bursts into a fit of giggles every time he gets to the punchline. 
It’s good with him, everything is easier. Everything just sort of makes sense with Joel and for the first time in a long time everything feels right. 
Until the morning you wake up, a sticky feeling between your legs and an ache in your belly.
“Shit.” You roll out of bed, quickly shedding your clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin before texting Joel.
[ hot date idea for us, you drive me to the laundromat and then watch me do my laundry ] 
Setting your phone down you hop into the shower, washing away the blood with a groan, you spend far too long under the water, when you finally step out and check your phone you’re running late, you pull open the curtains a bit to see if Joel’s already waiting for you but much to your confusion you aren’t met with the familiar sight of the truck.
You had never really discussed him driving you to work; it was just something he’d started doing, you probably shouldn’t have expected it to be a permanent thing. 
You haphazardly pull yourself together, tossing on whatever looks clean before grabbing your phone and bag, rushing out the door. 
The cool morning air stings your face as you quickly walk down the familiar gravel driveway towards the home, you’re already preparing your excuse for why you’re so late but Maria doesn’t even notice as you step into the office, she’s busy on a call.
You recognize the look on her face, she’s talking to a family. You step inside, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from her desk as you wait. She seems to be at the end of the conversation. 
You couldn’t be more grateful that she takes care of telling the families. You’ve never been good at that kind of thing. She hangs up with a gentle, goodbye, smiling up at you as you try and imagine a situation in which your job was to deliver such terrible news. 
The ache in your stomach snaps you back to reality. 
Fuck. You forgot to bring anything.
“Any chance you have a pad?” You give her an apologetic look.
Based on her expression you’d think you’d just asked her for a lung. Several emotions flash across her face in an instant, but mostly she looks like someone who just solved a riddle that had been plaguing them for quite some time. She snaps out of it quickly though, giving you a curt nod. 
“Of course, let me just run upstairs.”
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It’s an older man, graying and wearing what is obviously hiking gear.
Poor guy. 
He’s torn apart, the worst you’ve seen so far, his limbs have all been individually torn off, they lay, separated from the rest of him on the table. 
It’s an open casket so you’re gonna be down here all day. 
You text Joel one last time before setting your phone down. 
[ gonna be pretty busy all day, got another bear attack, i’ll call you when i’m on my way home. ] 
With that you get to work, putting on your gown and gloves, and starting at the torn clothes. It’s hard to figure out where his clothes start and his skin ends with the condition his body is in but you manage to cut him out of everything so you can properly assess the damage. 
You’re getting used to seeing these messy wounds, the sight of torn flesh. It should be a pretty easy job all things considered. He’ll be in a suit so you’ll just reattach everything and no one will ever have to see the extent of his wounds. 
You check everything twice, making sure that you’ve got the left and right correct before you start sewing things back up. You try to mimic the way you saw Maria do it, careful and practiced stitches.
You finish the legs easily enough, both had been ripped off just above the knee, you’re about to start on the arms when you drop the needle in surprise. 
How didn’t you realize this before? 
You’ve been preparing these bodies for weeks now and you’ve never once noticed one harrowing detail. You’re used to tending to bodies that have already seen a pathologist. Bodies with their organs in a bag, with their blood drained, ready to be prepared for a funeral or cremation. And you’ve been so focused on doing a good job to impress Maria that you’ve failed to take note of the most obvious thing before you. 
There’s no blood. 
None of the bodies you’ve tended to from the bear attacks have blood, all of their organs remain intact but because Maria declares cause of death you know she doesn’t drain them. You’ve drained everyone who hasn’t been sent in from a bear attack. 
Maybe Maria drained them before you got in.
But that isn’t possible, you know that, you’d have seen the equipment, and you’ve gotten bodies straight from the scene, already drained. 
You reach over to grab a scalpel off the table. 
You shouldn’t do this. You could probably be fired for it, but as long as no one finds out you’ll be fine. All the damage to this cadaver has been done to its limbs, so hypothetically, if you were to slice open his chest you would see blood, dried or otherwise. 
So you do just that. 
You carve out a small, clean, incision vertically on his sternum. 
Nothing. 
You’ve got a pen flashlight that you shine into his chest cavity only to find his organs. Dry. 
He’s been completely drained of his blood. 
You stitch him up quickly, finishing the job as swiftly as possible before running up the stairs, mumbling a rushed excuse to Maria before running the entire way home. 
Joel doesn’t text you back. 
This isn’t happening, not again, he wouldn’t do this again. 
You feel like you’re gonna be sick. 
An image flashes through your mind. 
Joel.
Lips curled back in a snarl. 
No. That wasn’t real, it was just a dream. Although the line between the two has been getting blurrier. 
Joel isn’t out there draining people of their blood, that’s absurd, even if he goes missing and those dates happen to coincide with the days that you get bloodless corpses. 
It’s a coincidence. 
Or it isn’t. 
Maybe for one second you should just let yourself consider the possibility that something is terribly wrong. 
You thoroughly check the two bodies you get the next day. 
They come in together, a couple from out of state hiking in the park. Neither one of them bleeds. 
The day after that you wake up early and walk to the funeral home as the sun rises. You watch the hearse wheel in the body, and you make sure you’re the first person to see her. 
A tragically beautiful woman who appears to be in her late forties, maybe early fifties. 
None of her wounds are bloody, and when you open her chest cavity it’s like someone drank her insides with a straw. 
You’re nearly at your breaking point, nothing you’re looking at makes any sense. 
You spend that night in bed, unable to sleep as you try and figure out what the hell is going on. 
Joel doesn’t answer your calls. 
He doesn’t respond to your several angry texts. 
And something deep down within you tells you that asking Maria would be a mistake. 
You’re completely alone on this. 
So you call Maria and you tell her that you’re sick and won’t be in tomorrow. Then you look up the bus schedule in and out of town.
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The bus comes in and out of Honey twice, every other day. Lucky for you, today is one of the days the bus will be there in the morning, and return in the evening. 
The bus stop is empty when you arrive, the misty morning air clings to your skin as you stare out into the surrounding forest. 
Something is out there. 
And you’re gonna find out what it is.
You can’t keep being afraid, this is your home now, and you won’t be driven away by some imaginary monster. 
It starts to drizzle when you look out the window of the bus, watching Honey disappear behind you. 
You have a plan. 
Well sort of. 
You’re going to find some literature on the subject. You’re sick of feeling crazy so you’re going to prove yourself right. Something is very wrong in Honey, and monster or not, you’re going to figure it out. 
You don’t catch the name of the town you end up in, you just get off at the stop that looks the most tourist friendly, assuming that there has to be a book store somewhere in town. 
You only have to walk main street for a few minutes before you find it. 
It’s a quaint little shop tucked in between an attorney's office and a gift shop. 
Betty’s Books
Dimly lit and jam packed wall to wall with books, a small elderly woman sits behind the counter, reading a Stephen King novel. 
“Excuse me?” You clear your throat as she looks up at you over her wiry glasses. 
“How can I help you?” Her smile is warm, it fills the entire shop with an aura of comfort. 
You’re going to sound ridiculous. And the moment you do this you’ll be speaking it into existence. 
You don’t have any other options. 
“Do you have anything on local urban legends?” You try not to sound too ashamed but her smile never falters as she points. 
“Back left corner, dear.” 
“Thank you.”
“Let me know if you need anything else.” She’s already buried her nose back in her book before you turn towards the rest of the shop. 
You begin searching the shelves for anything that could possibly help you, there’s several different books on bigfoot and the loch ness monster. There are a lot of empty spaces between books and you have to assume that this is what most tourists are buying. 
People in search of ghosts and myths. 
Are you any better than them? 
Running out into the darkness, looking for a monster you very well may have made up. 
You look through a few more options before finally settling on a thick, leather bound book, you pull it from its place and stare down at the embossed cover. 
A Beginners Guide to Cryptozoology : West Virginian Monsters 
You aren’t going to find a better place to start. 
You move back towards the front, stopping in front of the children's section.
Lullabies & Poems for Bedtime 
A rabbit with a pocket watch, asleep under a tree, adorns the cover. 
Ellie might like that. 
Even if you’re madder than hell at her father. 
You grab the little white book, setting both onto the counter, paying before stepping out into the rain. You’ve got hours until the bus back to Honey returns so you quickly make your way to a diner across the street, keeping the books tucked into your jacket. 
A little bell chimes as you push the door open, sitting yourself at one of the free booths you set the books down on the table. 
The waitress brings you coffee and water as you set your jacket aside, you order a plate of fries just to give you something to do as you watch the rain on the diner windows for a bit. 
Eventually you know you can’t put it off anymore so you open up the book and sit back, taking care to read every single page, not wanting to miss a thing. 
The first thing you learn is that there are a startling number of unnamed monsters. 
It covers the basics in the first few chapters, mothman, bigfoot, chupacabra, and werewolves, but the second half of the book is entirely monsters with no names, only ink drawing accompanying the descriptions. For a while you find nothing, eventually ordering a milkshake which you sip as you skim the pages.
After two hours you’re about to give up when you stumble across a page that finally shows something familiar. 
A drawing of a body, mangled, with wounds you recognize. 
Five slashes across the chest, both arms completely torn off. 
This creature is thought to reside only in heavily wooded areas, it was speculated to be located in the southern United States for several decades before disappearing completely. 
Since then people have claimed to have seen this creature in many different locations although the majority seem to be centralized to the east coast of North America, resembling a lich, or a wendigo. 
When you turn the page the illustration of the monster stares back at you. 
It’s hard to make out what’s what and it looks mostly like inky scribbles but within those lines you see the creature you’ve been imagining. Long, sharp limbs, massive shoulders, and a face almost reminiscent of a humans, everything is just… distorted. 
While technically unnamed, there are many unique pieces of folklore attached to this specific creature. Witnesses claim to have seen this monster transform from human to creature and vice versa, as if they walk among us in their free time. 
What sets the creature apart from many other creatures of this variety is their affinity for humans. More often than not we’ve gotten reports of these creatures seeking out human mates.
We have several different claims from people saying they’ve seen the transformation happen right before their very eyes. One man claimed to have watched his sister in law turn at Thanksgiving dinner. Another says that he saw a cousin's boyfriend disappear into the woods during a wedding, transforming into a beast as he did. 
According to old legends there is thought to be a connection between these creatures and their mates, quite literally bonding them in blood. The males are believed to be linked to their human mates menstrual cycles; if they have one, the females are linked to their own. There are many different descriptions of what this means for human mates. Some believe that when this creature comes in contact with their mate that they permanently revert to their human forms. Others believe they’re hunger for flesh only grows after coming in contact with them.
But most believe that they eat their mate. Plain and simple. That their blood is more potent to them than anyone else’s, so much so that any love they may harbor for them is irrelevant, they are simply blinded by their bloodlust. 
Its victims often resemble that of an animal attack. Bodies torn apart, mangled, often believers of this legend are ‘disproven’ because of this fact, but there is always one thing that separates this creature's kills from that of an animal. Animals who eat their victims will do exactly that, eat them, this creature does no such thing, while it does massacre its victims it will rarely consume its flesh, preferring the taste of blood. 
There have been no confirmed sightings of these creatures and we have been unable to trace its origins or obtain any photographic evidence, maybe it really is just an animal. 
Monster or bear? It’s up to you.
It’s up to you. 
You slam the book shut.
It’s nonsense. 
Joel isn’t some blood drinking, period monster. But you came all this way, looking for a monster, and seemingly you’ve found it. 
You pick up the little book for Ellie, taking a sip of your coffee. 
Maybe it’ll make you feel better. 
You open it to find a familiar little song on the inside of the cover.
I know you,
I walked with you once upon a dream. 
You flip through it, mostly admiring the beautiful illustrations, they look like watercolors. There’s a frog with a crown, princesses with flowing gowns and witches grinning up at you from the pages. It isn’t until some random page in the middle that you actually stop to read the poem. The drawing accompanying this one isn’t colorful, only black ink, a drastic change from everything so far. 
Jabberwocky
By: Lewis Carroll 
It unsettles you to look at so you focus on the words instead. You know this creature, it’s from Alice in Wonderland. The poem is whimsical, you can imagine a child finding it rather entertaining should a parent read it with enthusiasm. You don’t have a parent reading it to you though, you’re alone, staring at the lines that have caught your eye. 
Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
No more books today. 
When you check your phone there are no new notifications. So Joel is either a terrible boyfriend or a potential murderer. 
How comforting. 
Fuck it. 
You click on his contact.
[ TEXT ME BACK RIGHT NOW. OR WE’RE THROUGH. ] 
Monsters aren’t real. 
Joel Miller is just the worst boyfriend (soon to be ex-boyfriend) on the planet. 
It doesn’t help that you catch a glimpse of a tampon wrapper in your bag when you throw your phone back into it. 
It’s a coincidence. 
You can’t say anything to anyone about this, how would it look if ditzy Darlene’s niece showed up and started spinning stories of her own? You can’t do it, you know exactly what people would say. They’d say it ran in the family and they’d find a reason to be cruel to her even in death. 
So you take the bus home in silence. 
For the next few days barely speak to Maria other than polite greetings, you’re certain she doesn’t notice, both of you are swamped. You’ve got a body everyday the rest of the week and she’s up to her neck in paperwork. 
And Joel never texts.
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Maria’s juggling Ellie and trying to fill out papers when you get in the next morning. 
“Thank god you’re here, can you run upstairs and grab something for me, there’s a little makeup bag on the counter in the bathroom, I forgot it earlier and I’m waiting on a phone call regarding the couple we had.” 
“Of course.” You set your things down before reaching for Ellie. “Here, let me take her so you can do that.”
“You’re a lifesaver, thank you.” Almost as if on cue the phone rings the moment she says it. You head towards the stairs, the toddler in your arms scrunches up her face as if trying to recall your identity. 
“You know me, silly, I’m friends with your daddy.” At the mention of her father she seems to relax and you open the door at the top of the stairs. 
You’ve never actually been in this part of the house before, you’ve always stayed in the business section. You don’t get a chance to look around, the bathroom is the first door on your left. A bag the size of a pencil box is on the counter, you hand it to Ellie, her little hands play with the bag as you carefully bounce her in your arms. 
“Do you know where your daddy is?” You poke her in the belly making her smile at you for the first time. “Not gonna snitch?” You tickle her side, earning a tiny giggle. You let her play with the zipper as you bring her back downstairs. “Any bodies today?” You yell as you descend the stairs. 
“Had a cremation from the home this morning, I’ve just got a lot of papers, I’m planning six funerals simultaneously right now.” 
Six massacred corpses in six days. 
“Where’s Tommy?” Ellie puts up a bit of a fight for the bag but you set it down on the desk just in time to watch Marias grip on her pen tighten. 
Yikes. Must be a sore spot right now. 
“He’s got a work thing, left me with that little monster.” She uses the pen to point at the toddler who’s already starting to get antsy in your arms. 
If you’ve got no bodies today you might as well offer to help.
“I can watch Ellie if you’d like.” 
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“Of course not, want me to keep her upstairs? I’m sure you don’t want me watching her in the basement.” You laugh a little as she nods. 
“You really are a lifesaver, I don’t know how I managed without you.” 
“Oh stop, you clearly did just fine before I came along.” Your face gets a bit hot at the compliment. 
“I’ll be up in a few hours once I finish up here, you two have fun.” She doesn’t give any instruction beyond that so you just take Ellie back upstairs. You haven’t spent much time with her beyond the small interactions in passing but you know she doesn’t like doing nothing unless it’s with Joel. She’s trying to get out of your arms the second you’re at the top of the stairs. You set her down in the entryway and she’s already running into the kitchen. 
You don’t want to snoop but you actually get to take a good look around as Ellie settles in front of a pile of notebooks and a mess of crayons on the kitchen floor. It’s a pretty open floor plan, the kitchen and living room are all one big room and from the looks of it they must watch Ellie often, an outsider would assume they have a child of their own. A play pen is set up on the floor of the living room and toys are scattered everywhere. 
“Are you hungry, sweetie? Do you want something to eat?” There’s different snacks on the counter as you walk over to where she’s playing. 
“Yes please.” Her voice is clear and high pitched, you’re actually a little surprised, you didn’t even know she could talk, she’s always silent when you’re around. There’s an assortment of different things on the counter so you just find something that’s already open. Handing her a little container of apple puffs, she doesn’t look up from her drawings, just blindly reaching over and grabbing a handful as you sit at the counter to watch over her. 
She’s a very well behaved baby all things considered. 
You have to stop her from drawing on the walls a few times and at one point she stuffed a handful of food between the couch cushions but other than that she’s rather relaxed. She sits and draws mostly, only occasionally getting up and doing a few laps around the room before returning to her papers. 
At one point she makes her way to where you’re sitting, slapping your leg to get your attention until you pick her up, she points to the window above the sink and when you take her there she simply stares out at the trees. 
She’s focused on the woods as you watch her expression, her face is oddly serious. 
After a few minutes you set her down, unease filling your body. She doesn’t seem to mind though as she runs back to her drawings, you return to the counter, checking your phone for a few minutes until she appears in your peripherals once more, tapping your leg again, handing you one of her drawings. 
At several different moments this week you’ve thought that you’ve reached your breaking point. 
None of those compare to how you feel when you pick up the paper Ellie had been scribbling on. 
It’s crude and mostly indiscernible but you know exactly what you’re looking at. 
A monster. 
A broad shouldered, sharp toothed, crayon monster. 
You stare at the little girl, trying to keep your composure as you pick her up, setting her in your lap and pointing at the mess of scribbles on the page. 
You feel crazier than ever, asking a toddler for help but no one else is around and you’re running out of options. 
“Can you tell me what that is, sweetie? What did you draw?” You hand her the drawing back which she crumples a bit in her fist before setting it on the counter, you point again at the creature. “Ellie, honey, can you tell me what this is please?” You’re doing your best to keep calm as she kicks her legs a bit before staring up at you with a frown. 
“Daddy?” For someone so small she speaks so loudly and clearly, but you just shake your head. 
“I know, honey, you want your daddy, I wish I knew where he was but you’re stuck with me today.” You smooth out her hair a bit as she scrunches up her face, looking rather upset. 
“Tío.” She points down at the drawing before looking back at you for approval, you just smile. You feel like an idiot. Asking a child for help. A child who can barely speak. 
“It’s okay, you’re too little to understand.” You hold her under one arm as you walk around the counter to the fridge. “How about I get you some juice.” 
You find a clean sippy cup, pouring her some apple juice before setting her back down, handing her the cup and searching through your bag. 
“I almost forgot, I got you a present.” She perks up immediately, setting her cup down as you hold the little white book out towards her.
“Thanks!” Her eyes light up as she takes it from you, it’s one of the few times you’ve seen her smile without her father being in the room, sitting on the floor before looking back up at you, tapping the spot next to her until you sit as well. 
“Do you want me to read it to you?” You watch as she sets it down in front of her, she’s surprisingly gentle as she flips open the cover. 
“No thank you.” She’s enraptured by the illustrations, not caring for the text, laying down on her stomach, and sitting up on her elbows as she slowly flips through the pages, her eyes wide as she points out everything she sees to you. You rub her back, nodding along, you’re mostly just happy that she’s excited. 
She kicks her feet as she explains the big red bird on the page to you. After a few more minutes of her babbling she turns the page again.
Jabberwocky 
She giggles wildly as she points at the page and suddenly you’re filled with dread all over again. She’s positively captivated by the drawing, refusing to turn to a different page when you urge her to move on.
You don’t speak again until Maria comes upstairs to check on her, when you do it’s to tell her you aren’t feeling well, and you’re going home.
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You’re going on a monster hunt. 
There’s nothing left to do. You need to soothe your fears before you lose it completely and you aren’t going to stare at the trees and wonder for the rest of your life. 
You stop at one of the tourist traps in town, you need supplies for tonight. 
A camera. 
It’s an easy in and out stop. You buy a polaroid camera, and several packs of film. 
No one will believe you otherwise, you’ll be ridiculed the same way they did Darlene. You think of her as you walk back home, what if she was right about everything? She spent her life in fear of a monster no one believed in and they mocked her for it, and at the end of the day she might have been right. 
Maybe the monster is real and it isn’t Joel. 
Either way you’re going into the woods tonight. Your backpack is packed with the essentials, your water bottle, camera, an extra film pack, one of the knives from the kitchen (wrapped in a towel,) and a flashlight. 
Once you’re packed you put your boots and jacket on and head out. 
It’s like everything quiets down the moment you step outside. The forest hums, beckoning you in, and how could you refuse such an offer? 
You manage to keep your hands steady as you flip the switch on your flashlight, stepping into the trees. It feels so much colder now than it did when you were walking home. 
With dusk settling the sun is no longer there to keep you warm or to guide your way. You haven’t actually seen much of the forest, so you decide to walk in a straight line to avoid getting lost as you carefully step over a tangle of roots. As a child you loved nothing more than playing in the woods behind your house. But after just half an hour in these woods you suddenly resent the trees, they no longer bring you any comfort as you carry on into the cold dark night. You’re just about to give up and turn back around when suddenly something changes.  
Without warning and with seemingly no cause you feel a chill rush through your body, your hair standing on end. Your blood runs cold and you hear a sound you’re all too familiar with at this point. 
The tearing sound rips through the air. 
Your instincts tell you that you’ve become prey rather suddenly in this situation but you can’t turn back now, not when you can prove to yourself that you aren’t losing it. 
As quietly as possible you reach back into your pack, grabbing the camera already loaded with film and holding it in your free hand. The beam coming from your flashlight trembles slightly as you carry on towards the noise. 
It’s louder than it ever was in the dreams. In the dreams it was subdued, almost as if you subconsciously knew that it couldn’t hurt you. As you carry onward you can’t help but wonder if you’re just imagining it at this point. It doesn’t seem to get louder as you walk. It simply fills the air completely, you’re being directed purely by your instincts. You know it’s this way as you move forward a few more steps. 
You scan the trees with your light, seeing nothing out of the ordinary until you finally see it. Your finger instinctively flips off your flashlight. 
You almost didn’t catch it. 
But your legs keep moving and you get closer and closer to the hunched figure. 
It’s hard to describe, like your eyes don’t want to accept what you’re seeing. A voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re getting too close but you can’t seem to stop yourself as you carry on until you can get a good look at it. 
You can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as you realize it isn’t Joel. But that relief only lasts a moment as you see what you’re actually dealing with. 
You aren’t sure how big it is. It’s big. That much is clear but it’s crouched down, it’s almost human, it may have once been human. You’re having trouble making out most of it in only the moonlight. It’s less broad than the illustrations you’ve seen, almost slim, with how close you are now you can see that it’s eating. 
A buck, one of the biggest ones you’ve ever seen is splayed out across some rocks. It’s stomach has been ripped open. You watch, with morbid fascination as it digs its maw deeper into the gore. 
How curious, it’s wearing clothes. Or at least the remains of some clothing, a bit of fabric clings to its crooked spine, it wears the tattered collar of a shirt like a necklace. Navy blue sweatpants stretch around the creature's waist, the fabric pulled taut, it looks like they make it just past its knees. The elastic around the ankles has snapped. 
The funniest part of all of this is that you feel nothing but fear for the creature. You aren’t disgusted and you certainly don’t hate it. You’re just afraid, so afraid that before you can slap your hand over your mouth you burst into a peal of laughter. 
Fuck. 
It all happens so fast, you aren’t ready in the slightest to be face to face with it and suddenly you are, purely on instinct your hand twitches and with the flash of the camera you get a single moment to stare at it. 
It’s so close to being human.
It’s mouth is too big, a blood soaked tongue falling past a row of jagged, pointed teeth. It’s almost like someone stretched out a person's face like it was made of clay. And it’s male. Intricate branching horns stretch out from under the hair crowning its head. 
“The doe’s don’t have antlers.”
Your dad was a hunter, you know your antlers,  you aren’t exactly sure but if it was a deer it would be a thirteen pointer. You should run, you’re about to but then you finally look it in the eye, just as the final remnants of the camera flash flicker out. 
There is something worse than hunger, or thirst, or rage in its eyes, if that was all there was you could scream or cry. But this leaves you frozen in place. 
Recognition. 
Like it knows you. 
And the moment it recognizes you it snarls, an ear-piercing sound that rips through the quiet of the forest, blood spewing from its maw at you, flecks of crimson tint your clothes and hands as your eyes go wide.
It’s a good thing your legs move faster than your brain, you’re already sprinting away from the creature. 
You lose your flashlight almost immediately but you know where you’re going, you couldn’t be more thankful for your decision to go in a straight line. You don’t stop moving, running blindly back the way you came, never once daring to look behind you. 
You know it’s there, you can hear it, and you can feel it. 
Its breath is hot on your heels, you can hear the branches splintering directly behind you. Everything is a blur, stray branches sting your exposed skin but you don’t stop, you can’t, your muscles ache as you push onward, keeping your hands out in front of you to guide you through the darkness until you finally see the road up ahead. 
You’re nearly there, almost feeling relief, almost. 
An icy hand wraps around your ankle, you’re yanked backwards before you can process what’s going on, your back dragging across the forest floor and in an instant you’re beneath it. 
This is it. 
You wanted a monster, you got one. And now you’re going to die for it. It snarls as its maw falls open, you’re face to face with a row of shimmering, gore smeared teeth. This is it. 
He smells like cinnamon. 
It tilts its head ninety degrees, its jaw closing in on your throat as you close your eyes, tears now flow freely down your face and finally you can’t contain your terror anymore. 
You scream. 
A trembling shriek falling from your lips and much to your confusion a killing blow never comes. After one more shuddering breath you open your eyes only to find you’re just staring up at the trees. You sit up, still out of breath. 
He’s a few feet away now. 
Thrashing around frantically as he stumbles backwards. As if your scream had upset him. He bellows, his twisted hands clutching his skull like he’s angry with himself. You cover your ears instinctively when it snarls in pain.
He can’t help it. 
You’re scrambling to your feet once more, giving him one final glance, you look into each other's eyes.
“Run.” 
It speaks. 
You break into a sprint once more, not daring to stop until your feet touch pavement. You don’t get the sense that you’re being followed anymore but you’re still in shambles. The adrenaline is slowly starting to fizzle out and you’re painfully aware of the wound you sustained during that encounter. Your ankle is torn up, two deep gashes from where it grabbed you are bleeding an alarming amount. You stumble, the sight of it making you nauseous. 
You get a moment's respite and you manage to compose yourself enough to retrieve your phone from your pocket. Walking backwards, keeping your eyes on the forest as you slowly continue to back away. In your desperation your blood stained fingertips frantically swipe across your phone screen, you don’t realize until it’s too late that you’re calling the only person who isn’t going to answer. 
Yet when you bring the phone to your ear you hear a click. 
“Joel?” You can’t fucking believe it. He actually picked up. 
“Sweetheart? Are you okay?” He can definitely hear the panic in your voice. 
You just break down.
“I’m by the road, on the way from Maria’s to my camper, I- I need you to come get me, please, it’s- it’s following me, but I think I lost it please, Joel.” You’re in hysterics as you catch a glimpse of one of the few streetlights down the road. You hear the sound of keys and you swear you hear Maria saying something in the background but you’re too frenzied to focus on that. 
“Who’s following you? Stay right there m’on my way.” You can hear the truck starting in the background as you keep running, not daring to stop even though it doesn’t feel like you’re being pursued anymore. 
“The monster… in the woods… it’s not a bear Joel.” You’re out of breath when you finally stop, standing in the middle of the road underneath the street lamp, spinning around to try and somehow keep an eye on all of the darkness around you. 
“Stay where you are, I’ll be there in two minutes, okay? Stay right where you are.” You’re about to beg him to hurry when the line goes dead. 
You must look like a mad woman. Standing in the middle of the street, covered in blood, and spinning in circles to try and keep an eye on every single direction as you listen for any signs of movement. 
Your heartbeat never slows, you can hear it pounding in the crushing silence that surrounds you. 
It only takes a few minutes before you see headlights approaching in the distance. You don’t even let the truck come to a full stop as you open the door and jump in, closing it behind you as you scramble towards Joel as if he could protect you from the goliath you saw in the darkness. 
“Drive! Now Joel, go!” You yell as he accelerates just to the point of following the speed limit as he heads towards your camper. 
“Bunny, please, calm down.” He wraps the hand that isn’t on the steering wheel around you but you shove him off, sliding back to the other side of the truck. 
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Joel, not after what I just went through, I saw it, a real monster grabbed me.” You’re stumbling over your words, trying to get them out as quickly as possible.
“Slow down, just tell me what happened.”
“I told you on the phone, I just found a fucking monster, Joel, that’s what happened.”
He’s gone silent now.
He probably thinks you’re crazy. 
That’s fine. You know you aren’t, you saw it, watched it feed. There’s deer blood on your boots. 
“You didn’t see a monster.” When you look he’s shaking worse than you are. You don’t dare turn your head further but you watch in your peripheral as he grips the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. 
He’s lying. 
Why would he lie? 
“I did, I took a-.” You reach into your bag and your stomach fills with dread as you realize you dropped the camera. 
“You didn’t. You’ve been spending too much time alone, and you shouldn’t be going out in the woods by yourself to begin with.” 
“And who’s fault is it that I’ve been alone?” You snap.
He doesn’t have a response to that. And you don’t have anything else to say, not like he’d believe you if you did. You should probably break up with him, for several reasons. 
Except you can’t. 
If you do, how will you stop people from being needlessly murdered? He may not be the monster, but he knows something, and you need to find out what it is. 
So you’ll ‘forgive’ him. Again. Because you need to get to the bottom of this.
And maybe, despite it all, you’re still terribly attached to him. He keeps disappearing, without warning and with halfhearted excuses as to why and all you can think about right now is how badly you missed him, and how badly you need him.  
“Does Tommy have Ellie tonight?” You mumble, trying not to sound too irritated. 
“I was stopping in to see her before leaving her with Maria for the night when you called.”
“Why?”
“I was gonna come over here and apologize.” He sounds just as sincere as he did last time but you still scoff.
“What’s the excuse this time?” When you turn to scowl at him he looks guilty.
“I was out of town on a work trip.”
“And you couldn’t answer your phone.”
“I forgot my charger at home.”
It’s a preconceived lie. You’re certain of it based on how quick he replies, and it’s not even a good one. He could have borrowed a coworker's phone or bought a new charger; it wouldn't have been difficult. But he doesn’t want you to know where he really was. 
Every bit of this confuses you. 
You saw something in the woods, but it wasn’t Joel? Joel was with Ellie and then he was with you, he couldn’t have been slaughtering lost hikers. It doesn’t make sense. One thing is for certain though, and it’s that you can’t break up with Joel until you know what's going on or more people are going to be killed by that thing you saw in the woods. You aren’t really sure what to call it, but you know that you found the thing that’s been killing. 
And he knows something about it. 
He had no reason to get as rattled as he did if he didn't know something about what you saw. So you can’t break up with him, not until you figure this all out. Until then you just have to play the part of a clueless, loving girlfriend. Which shouldn’t be too hard considering the fact that for some reason there is still a sick and twisted attraction to him despite everything you know, settling in your stomach. You bite your tongue, going the rest of the short drive in silence. When he finally pulls up to the camper the engine goes quiet as he turns the key. You had no intention of inviting him in but you won’t stop him if he follows. 
You slam the truck door shut, stomping up to the door, his footsteps following close behind. 
“Let’s talk about this.” He reaches for your arm as you’re unlocking the door but you just shove him off. You leave it open, kicking your shoes off as you slip out of your jacket as you flip on the lights. 
“I don’t want to talk.” He shuts the door behind him, you note that he locks it behind him. 
How presumptuous. 
Correct, but presumptuous. 
“You’re clearly upset, bunny.” He kneels down, untying his own boots before kicking them off. You glare down at him until he stands, trying to pull you into his arms but you just shove him away again. His eyes go wide as he takes you in.
Based on his reaction you really must be quite a sight. 
“Jesus, you’re a mess.” He looks genuinely concerned but you brush it off. 
“Thanks.” You scoff but when you look down you realize you’ve been leaving a trail of blood in your wake. 
“Do you have a first aid kit?” You should send him away. Tend to yourself and go to bed, but instead you just point to the cabinet containing the kit, sitting on the table as he retrieves it, tossing it down beside you. He doesn’t ask what happened, grimacing as he lifts your leg to examine your ankle.
He doesn’t need to ask, he knows what happened. 
He tends to your wounds in silence. You wince as he wipes the lacerations on your ankle, they look bad enough that you consider just going to the hospital but he doesn’t seem too worried. They’re just shallow enough that you don’t think you’ll need stitches. 
You don’t watch as he sprays it with antiseptic, quickly wrapping it in a layer of gauze and then bandages. 
When he’s finished you’re ready to get angry with him all over again but the moment you open your mouth to yell at him he grabs you by the chin, taking a clean piece of gauze and gently dabbing the thin cuts that litter your face. 
You stare up at the ceiling light, refusing to meet his gaze. 
He tends to every one of them, taking extra care as he smears ointment on each one. When he’s finished he takes anything bloodied and gathers it in his hand, standing to toss them into the bin under the sink. You don’t turn, but out of the corner of your eye you see him bring his hand to his mouth. 
Your blood.
He tasted your blood. 
You can feel the bile rising in your throat but you just swallow it back down. 
“Now we can talk.” He makes his way back over to you but you just shake your head. 
“I already told you, I don’t wanna talk.” 
“Bunny-” He takes another step towards you. 
“Shut up.” 
“Don’t be like that.” There’s real remorse in his eyes, you might even feel bad if you didn’t know that he was lying to you. 
“Shut. Up.” You push him so he stumbles back onto the bed. “I’m not crazy.” He props himself up on his elbows to look at you as you say it.
“I know.” He sounds almost apologetic. 
“Take your clothes off.” You mumble, already tossing your shirt to the side. 
“Are you sure?” 
You’re sure that he knows what’s out there in the woods and he isn’t telling you. 
“I am.” You kick your jeans off to emphasize your point. You know he won’t deny you this. Whatever sick, unexplainable force pulls you into his arms affects him as it does you. You don’t just want him, you need him. 
You hadn’t realized it until he’d disappeared again, but now you couldn’t be more aware. It’s as if your entire life you’ve felt wrong. You’ve been in a state of discomfort for as long as you can remember, like a vital part of you was missing. But you got used to it, and you learned to live with the odd sensation of never feeling like you're in the right place, nowhere ever felt like home. 
Joel feels like home, in a sort of twisted way. 
From the moment you first saw him everything cleared up. It was like you had finally found your center of balance, and when he disappeared he took all of that with him. 
This is more than just attraction. 
With that he tugs his flannel off, you grab the bottom of his shirt, impatiently pulling it up over his head, not wanting to look him in the eyes, you stare at his shoulders as you climb up onto the bed, straddling his lap. 
“I really think we should talk-” He starts again so you reach behind yourself, unclasping your bra, glaring at him as you let it drop.
“Then talk.” 
He looks at you like you’re something to eat. 
“That’s not fair.” He finally manages to pull his gaze off of your chest, looking you in the eyes, his pupils swallowing his irises leaving you to stare into the darkness of his eyes.  
“There’s nothing to talk about, you went away for work and you forgot your phone charger.” You reach between the two of you to remove his belt, tossing it behind him on the bed before trying to unzip his jeans. “It was just an unfortunate series of circumstances.” You grumble before lifting yourself off his lap so he can shove his jeans off.
He’s glaring at you now. Good. He should know that you’re challenging him. Everything from this point on is a game, you just have to catch him in a lie. You grind down against the straining fabric of his boxers, hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as you rub yourself against his clothed erection, drawing a hiss from between his teeth. Before you know it his hands are gripping the hem of your panties. 
“Go on Joel, rip them off. I know you’re plenty capable.” You say it like the accusation it is. He’s strong enough to do a lot of things, you aren’t sure if tearing a person in half is one of those things but you’re determined to find out. He knows what you’re implying but he does it anyway, grabbing the fabric on either side of your hips and easily tearing them to shreds. 
“You don’t know what you do to me.” He murmurs, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours. 
You do. 
He does the same to you. A carnal desire, your most basic human instincts are reduced to nothing the moment your skin is against his. 
You don’t waste any time, slipping your hand under the waistband of his underwear, watching his cock spring free, slapping against his stomach. You unceremoniously spit in your hand before taking him in your fist, watching his jaw go slack as you rake your nails against the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in your hand. You keep your eyes trained on his face as you notch him at your entrance, tilting your head to the side as you hesitate. 
The veins in his neck jut out as you slide the head of his cock over your clit, hissing softly as you do. 
He’s purposefully showing restraint. 
He clutches the sheets, his knuckles go pale and you can’t help but wonder if he isn’t touching you because he’s worried he’ll hurt you. 
“Fuck me, Joel.” You lean forward, biting his stupidly plush bottom lip. He doesn’t move his hands from where they are and you can’t help but scowl against his mouth.   
He’s holding back. 
He knows exactly what you’re doing and he’s trying to prove you wrong. How long has he been holding back?
In one sharp motion you slide down on his cock, forcing an obscene moan out of yourself, but it isn’t loud enough to cover the ripping sound. Your eyes wander downward, his are rolled back but all you can focus on now is your torn bed sheets in his clenched fist. 
Holy hell.
“Fuck. Me.” You rasp out, lifting your hips again before dropping them back down. His head falls forward this time, his mouth latching onto your shoulder, muffling his growl.
You know that growl. 
“Fuck me or leave, Joel.” You take his face in your hand, roughly pulling him back so he’s eye to eye with you.
You heard that growl in the woods less than an hour ago. 
“You’re playing with fire, bunny.” He glares at you but you just stare right back. 
“I won’t say it again.” You give him one last warning and he finally brings his hands to your hips, with a grunt he lifts you up, slamming you back down on his cock, you can feel him brushing against your cervix as you cry out. 
At his age he shouldn’t be able to do that. 
He does it again, moving you like a ragdoll up and down on his length, a lewd squelching fills the air, egging him on. He tilts his head down, his teeth scrape against your breast, and you can hear a roar building in his throat. He fucks you like a fleshlight, moving you effortlessly up and down on his cock, your chest bouncing with each thrust.
He shouldn’t be able to do any of this.
Neither one of you speaks, you can feel the camper swaying ever so slightly as he slams into you, thrusting his hips up to meet yours as he pulls you down onto him. 
He makes it look effortless. 
Another growl rips through the air and you know neither one of you is gonna last long if he keeps going at this pace. He hammers into your sensitive spots with every thrust, your clit rubbing against the dark curls along his pelvis.
He’s merciless with the force at which he moves you, he’s started nipping at your shoulder and you know he’s close as they get harder and harder. You finally feel him break the skin and just like that he’s lifting you off of him, his mouth clamped down on your flesh, you feel his cum between your legs as he finishes on your folds. The sensation of him slipping out of you sends you over the edge right along with him, your stomach tightening as you groan, letting your head fall forward onto him.
You feel better already. 
Not good, just better. 
He manages to keep you both upright for a few more moments before collapsing down on the mattress with you in his arms. 
And then it’s just quiet.
Until the mattress squeaks as you get up. Wiping yourself off with a towel and turning the lights off before returning to bed without a word. He’s the one who finally breaks the silence.  
“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”
 “You can stay.” You mumble, rolling over to face away from him. 
It’s better if you know where he is. 
That’s what you tell yourself. 
It’s easier to swallow that excuse than the truth, that you can’t shake the terror from your encounter with the creature and now amount of fucking is going to change that. You don’t want to be alone, no matter how angry you are. He doesn’t seem to take the hint though, snaking his arm under yours and pulling you to his chest. 
You start to push him away but you feel a wave of calm wash over you when he does so you just settle back against him. You close your eyes, praying sleep might come but all you see in the darkness is that open maw closing in on you. 
You know that growl. 
It isn’t Joel. It can’t be Joel, he was with Ellie and then he was with you. 
It wasn’t Joel.
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You’re more than used to waking up in the woods at this point. Monsters and men torment you in your dreams whenever they get the chance to. 
But tonight is different. 
You don’t feel the cold, wetness of the forest floor on your back before you open your eyes. Instead you only feel steel, you make an attempt to sit up on instinct but you can’t. In a panic you open your eyes to find yourself cuffed to the cadaver carrier from Marias basement. 
This can’t be happening. 
This is the kind of dream you get after your first body. 
You’ve had this dream, years ago when you’d just started studying mortuary sciences. Although now it feels worse, more ominous than it had previously. 
That probably has to do with the fact that you can’t move. 
In response to that petrifying thought you begin to uselessly tug on the cuffs, your ankles and wrists attached to the cold unforgiving steel of the table you’ve sewn countless bodies back together on. 
You don’t strap cadavers down, there’s no need to. 
The door swings open and you’re thankfully able to sit up enough to watch Maria and Joel walk in, solemn looks on both of their faces. 
You open your mouth to call for help but something stops you.
No.
No, no, no.
Your jaw is wired shut. 
The sudden realization makes you gag as you shake the table with the force of your panic. 
Maria is always thorough, your mouth is full of cotton.
They act as if you’re as lifeless as any other corpse as they stand beside you, despite your muffled screaming, tears immediately flowing from your eyes as you feel your throat constrict around the cotton.  
“What happened to her?” He sounds so far gone even though he only stands a few feet away. 
“You know what happened to her.” Marias sorrow turns to a look of resentment as she turns to Joel. 
“Bear attack.” He says it more to himself than to her. 
“Keep telling yourself that.” 
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“You never do.” Her voice is full of a hatred you haven’t ever heard in reality. 
She looks at you with a pity you’ve had on your own face before. It’s the same look you give every corpse on a table.  
You follow Maria’s gaze down at your body and find your chest sliced open, the inside dry. 
And then you wake up. 
Of course Joel is there when you sit up in bed with a strangled cry, a fresh flood of tears falling down your face. 
“Bunny?” His groggy, sleep ridden voice resembles a growl, sending you backwards away from him, your back hitting where the mattress meets the camper wall. He’s already up, he moves towards you but the moment you flinch away from he stops. “Are you okay? What hap-“
“Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Thankfully he doesn’t move towards you, he holds his hands up ever so slowly. He’s acting like you’re a cornered animal. 
You can’t seem to find your voice. Every single logical and rational part of your body and mind tell you to get as far away from him as possible. To fight tooth and nail to get past him, to run away and never look back. You’d never get away with that though, he’s too deeply rooted in you already. He’s made for you. Sculpted by the gods to be everything you’ve ever wanted all in one neat little salt and pepper package, served up to you on a silver platter.  
“Sweetheart, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He inches forward a bit but the way you pull your legs up against your chest, trying to make yourself smaller makes him move back. “It’s okay, it’s just me.” 
Yeah Joel, that's the problem.  
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a/n : i have such mixed feeling abt this chap but whatever i really like it so ?? idk
I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!
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starstruckmoony · 2 years
Text
call it what you want.
masterlist
pairing - remus lupin x fem!reader
summary - part two of the social media concoction i came up with. it gets pretty tooth-rottingly fluffy in some parts but this wouldn't be a fic of mine if it weren't for the tooth-rooting fluff.
trope/tags - band/celeb!au, instagram/social media!au, modern!au, fluff, terrible humour
word count - 993
warnings - language
part 1 / part 2 / part 3
yourusername added to their story
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rjlupin
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❤ liked by mmmckinnon, vance_emm, xeno_lovegood and 1,930,392 others
rjlupin never felt more appreciated
tagged yourusername
29,067 comments
yourusername did you like it?
rjlupin it was so good i almost vomited
starmanblack i'm still mad bc we didn't make the furry one 😐
rjlupin you took part in this? starmanblack IT'S Y/N'S FAULT
pete__ why does it look like it was written with ummmm 👀👀
yourusername what if it was? 😳 bartyyy WHOSE yourusername fym whose? it's just white icing 🤨
lily_evans kids these days
yourusername weren't you the one who suggested to write "deez nuts" on it? prongsyboy you just got exposed for having bad humour lily_evans we're breaking up
user3835292 LMFAOO
user7382380 this is what i call poetry
yourusername
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❤ liked by pandorasbox, bartyyy, prongsyboy and 1,999,738 others
yourusername the cutest
22,044 comments
rjlupin i miss you two
yourusername awwee we miss you too
lily_evans CUTEST BOY EVER
prongsyboy what about me? lily_evans you're of your own sort
r.a.black cats are superior
yourusername is that why the only posts of mine you ever interact with are the ones of my cats? r.a.black correct
user709990 WHERE'S TAYLOR?
yourusername she was napping in the kitchen 😭😭 user709990 HSHDJAHDJQNSNQNDNWB
user020994 everybody's favourite cat
user372838 REMUS' COMMENT??????
user139299 IS THAT REMUS' SWEATER?
user300011 THE SWEATER HELLO??????
yourusername
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❤ liked by lily_evans, ev.rosier, marymacdonald and 1,999,738 others
yourusername can't believe i spent the whole day with this idiot
tagged rjlupin
22,044 comments
starmanblack i would literally rather die
rjlupin love you too sirius
casmeadowes write us some music please 🙏🙏 i'm craving for a new album
mmmckinnon soon soon soon
maraudersofficial wow and you rejected my offer to go watch puss in boots 🙄 so rude
yourusername sorry james but remus was being a baby and i didn't want him to cry rjlupin i'm gonna sue you for slander
user372838 you two have been spending lots of time together lately 🤨
user020994 HEIQJAJ WHEN IS IT MY TURN TO BE HAPPY
user709990 i'm sleeping on the highway tonight
user139299 wake me up when they start dating bc i can't put up with this no longer
user82111 NAH BUT THEY'RE BEING OBVIOUS
rjlupin
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❤ liked by yourusername, r.a.black, lily_evans and 2,188,033 others
rjlupin i think y/n loves her cats more than me
tagged yourusername
23,901 likes
yourusername suck it up
rjlupin where's the empathy you were on about? yourusername i left it at home
r.a.black cats>people
yourusername exactly reggie
marymacdonald i love you equally if that helps
rjlupin thank you mary
user738881 OFC SHE DOES IT'S CATS
user272771 i can love you more than my cat
user323276 but cats remus
user001231 CAN SOMEONE BE THE Y/N TO MY REMUS I WANT THIS FRIENDSHIP SO BAD
user734444 bro u mad delusional if u think this is friendship 💀 user001231 are you volunteering?
yourusername
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❤ liked by pete__, prongsyboy, starmanblack and 2,022,704 others
yourusername moonlight out may 15 🤍
37,898 comments
rjlupin when can i preorder?
yourusername very soon my love
prongsyboy feeling excited
starmanblack something tells me it's gonna be your best one to date
yourusername egomaniac
user738277 OH MY HOD IT'S HAPOENING
user229994 HOLY FCJING SHIT THERES JO WAYQUDBQHDHQHDNQJDBBW
user737470 DID SHE JUST CALL REMUS "MY LOVE"?????
user829384 THE NAME??? MOONLIGHT? REMUS? MOONY? IS THIS PR? IT BETTER NOT BE PR
user300111 I'M SOBBING SHDJAJXNSBS
user383838 TAKE MY MONEY
user001213 PLS TELL ME THERE'S A COLLAB ALL 4 MARAUDERS LIKED THE PHOTO
user030390 STFU LET'S NOT CLOWN AGAIN
celeb_gossip
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❤ liked by yourusername, rjlupin and 56,086 others
celeb_gossip rumour has it that rjlupin and yourusername have been in a happy relationship since summer '21. the two young stars have been spotted together once again! they must really enjoy spending time together, as they've been captured on several occasions since their friendship has become public and their interactions don't exactly seem "platonic", if you get what we mean 😉 despite of these obvious receipts, many are skeptical and think the relationship is purely just another pr stunt, especially since yourusername just announced her new album that is very likely to involve a collaboration with maraudersofficial 🤔 what do you guys think? 👀 let us know in the comments 😘
7,770 comments
user556464 i think you should leave them tf alone <3
user182828 tea pages are so weird like get a life bro
user262626 I KNEW IT
user677747 omgg i hope it's true i've been shipping these two for so long
user555668 y'all ever heard of privacy? 🤨
user075222 WHAT.
user333933 you can't even tell who it is 😭
user086443 GUYS THEY LIKED THE POST SJOQHYIQHSJ
user285551 WHAT TGE HELL
user124000 LMFAO NOT THEM BOTH LIKING IT
rjlupin
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❤ liked by vance_emm, starmanblack, casmeadowes and 2,798,929 others
rjlupin it was in fact never pr
tagged yourusername
42,990 comments
yourusername can't believe someone would even think that
rjlupin maybe we weren't lovey dovey enough
yourusername we should step up our game
rjlupin wanna kiss in the rain?
yourusername you don't even have to ask
mmmckinnon i knew HEHEHEHEHE
lily_evans AWWWWW
bartyyy about time
pandorasbox CUTIES
starmanblack not the tea page being right
user003021 WAIT A DAMN MINUTE
user285554 IT WASN'T PR IT WASN'T PR AHSHAHSHAHSNABS
user222399 HOW LONG HAVE YOU TWO BEEN PLAYING WITH US 😭😭
user356456 MY PARENTS DJQJDJQJSQ
user422222 OH NY JEUSUSUSHDQUXHHQS
user532111 FIQODI1USH IS THIS FOR REAL
user106626 IM LIETRALU CRUING
yourusername
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❤ liked by lily_evans, xeno_lovegood, ev.rosier and 2,782,53 others
yourusername i love my silly little boyfriend
tagged rjlupin
39,843 comments
rjlupin i love you too
yourusername it will unfortunately not pass rjlupin *fortunately
marymacdonald YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE EHEHEH
mmmckinnon i knew about them long before all of you TAKE THAT
r.a.black isn't he taller than you lolol
starmanblack REG SHUT UP LET THEM BE CUTE
vance_emm so happy for you two ❤
user002931 IM SHITTING TEARS
user362678 ok now marry him
user777771 MY PRAYERS HAVE WORKED AT LAST
user322256 i feel like world peace has been restored
user988211 whatever you do, don't break up
user300102 SOULMATES
rjlupin added to their story
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tagging moots again :D
@littlemissscarlettwitch @innerloverpainter @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @withastrangerheart @forourmoons @forsiriussake @sw34terw34ther @nyxxxxxxxx @laluna0 @incorrectwolfstar
498 notes · View notes
c-e-d-dreamer · 1 year
Text
The Rest Is History
A/N: Listen, was I supposed to be working on IPB AU? Yes. Did I write this fun drabble instead? Also, yes. I'm surrounded by enablers.... but the fact remains that Cassian is absolutely thinking abou the Roman Empire daily. And he would make a hot history nerd, so here we are. Dedicated to the GC ❤️
“Listen. I get it. It looks cool and all that, but you seriously expect me to believe any general in their right mind is going to use catapults and ballistae in a forest? A forest? Just imagine the poor guys trying to maneuver those into place between the trees. It would take forever and only leaves you exposed and puts you at more of a disadvantage.”
Nesta has to bite her lip around a smile as she listens to Cassian rant in the other room. Even through the closed door, his voice carries down the hall to her.
She had known Cassian was a history buff from their very first date. They’d gone to a bar in the historical part of town, down by the harbor, and as if he simply couldn’t stop himself, Cassian had leaned over after they’d ordered their drinks and explained how the location was notorious for shang-haiing back in the day. How one of the most notorious culprits was actually a woman who would flirt and trick sailors into having drink after drink with her until they passed out and woke up dazed and confused on a ship the next morning while she walked away with her pocket full of coin.
He had apologized almost as soon as he’d finished speaking, clearly embarrassed by the outburst. But Nesta had been so entranced by the way his hazel eyes had lit up when he spoke, the golds and greens of them practically sparking even in the low light of the bar. Entranced by the way his lips had tugged up into an easy, excited smile around the words he spoke. Entranced by his passion and his love even if it was for a topic she didn’t necessarily share in.
It had been enough to want a second date with him.
It had been enough to want a lot of dates with him.
And now, here Nesta is, curled up in the room they converted to her own personal library and office, listening to Cassian rant away to his followers on TikTok. It still leaves her with that same feeling as their first date, that same soft warmth blooming between her ribs. Still has her shaking her head fondly, as she burrows deeper beneath her pile of blankets and returns to the final chapter of her book.
By the time she is finishing the last page and finally closing the book, Nesta is less than impressed. She digs her phone out from where it’s buried between blankets and opens her Notes app, adding to her running list of points to make in her review. The ending? Terrible. Nothing worse than an author who clearly got offered a new book deal so they suddenly decide to add unnecessary plot to the final ten pages to set up another book. She’ll definitely be warning her TikTok followers about that.
To take her mind off the ending, she decides to open up the app in question, to check on what her followers are saying about her last book review, liking and replying to a good chunk of them. With a soft sigh, she sinks deeper against the pillows at her back, navigating to her FYP. Almost all of the videos are a trend sweeping across BookTok, of different creators trying to teach their boyfriends and husbands how to be a good book boyfriend. It has an idea sparking in Nesta’s mind, her eyes dancing toward the closed door to the library.
With a decided nod, she clambers up to her feet, padding out of the room and down the hall. She pauses in the doorway to Cassian’s office, leaning casually against the door jamb and watching him work. He has his ring light set up on the desk, phone poised and recording in the center. His hair is scraped back into a bun, and he’s wearing a loose tee that teases just enough of the dark swirls of ink that splash across his collarbones, that twist down his arms. But it’s his hands that really have Nesta’s attention, the way he waves them about as he passionately speaks to the camera.
“And don’t even get me started on the depiction of Marcus Aurelius. Did they even have a historian in that writer’s room?”
As Cassian continues to rant about the Roman emperor and his character in the movie, it’s clear that he can feel Nesta’s eyes on him. It’s the smile that gives him away first, the slow tug of his lips until the soft, dopey look he fondly calls his ‘Nesta smile’ takes over his face. And then his eyes start glancing toward her, and even with the distance, Nesta can see the way his gaze softens around the edges.
Even still, Cassian continues talking, continues recording as if nothing’s amiss. Nesta rolls her eyes fondly, but that merely has his smile growing. She always teases him when he does this, for the way he won’t re-record any of the videos and posts them regardless. When Nesta had taken a peek at his account and his videos, she’d seen plenty of comments asking what or, more particularly, who he was looking at.
When Cassian finishes, he reaches forward to stop his recording, turning to give Nesta his full attention. “Hey, Nes. Finally finish your book?”
“Yes. The ending was terrible.”
Cassian chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “I’m sure your followers will appreciate your honesty on that.”
Nesta shrugs noncommittally, but she knows he’s right. It’s how she built her following in the first place: completely honest and transparent book reviews. “Speaking of followers. I do need your help with a video, a BookTok trend. We can call it even from when you made me chase after you for that August video.”
“Hey, that Pheidippides joke was hilarious,” Cassian defends, standing up from his chair even as he shakes his head as though fondly remembering the video. “The Persians slipped away like a bottle of wine…”
Nesta snorts at the reminder of the caption he used, turning on her heel and leading the way back to her library. She grabs her phone from where she left it, taking the time to set it up so it has the perfect framing of the door. Once she’s happy with it, she presses record, curling her hand around Cassian’s wrist and tugging him into the shot.
“So the trend is to lean against the door frame like the men in books do.”
“Lean against the door frame?” Cassian asks, shifting until his shoulder presses against the door jamb.
“No, the top frame,” Nesta corrects, grabbing his wrist again and tugging his arm up to demonstrate.
Cassian readjusts his stance, settling his weight forward as he leans against his raised hand, and offers her a winning smile. “Like this, sweetheart?”
“Yes, but you’re not supposed to smile. It’s meant to be sultry,” Nesta explains, frowning at Cassian’s expression. “What is that face?”
“Blue steel.”
“That’s it. You fail,” Nesta laughs softly, turning to walk back toward her phone and stop the recording.
An arm snakes around Nesta’s waist, fingers curling and spinning her back around. She barely comes face to face with Cassian before he’s backing her up against the door jamb, caging her in with his large body. Her breath hitches in her chest at the way his hazel eyes have darkened, and she can’t look away, even when his arm tightens around her waist, arching her back and pulling her flush against him. His hand slides along her jaw, thumb skating across her bottom lip before he leans down and kisses her, Nesta sighing into his mouth.
“How’s that compare to the men in your books?” Cassian whispers when he pulls back.
Nesta is sure that she must be blushing, but she clears her throat and extricates herself from Cassian’s hold. She can practically feel Cassian’s smirk on her back as she walks back over to her phone and stops the recording, but she refuses to give him the satisfaction. Especially when she watches back the way she became flustered and then melted into him in 4k.
“Well, I can’t post this.”
“You should definitely post it,” Cassian murmurs, his voice closer than she expects, but then his arms are curling around her waist as he plasters himself to her back.
And maybe it’s the warmth of Cassian wrapped around her. Maybe it’s the peace and security she’s found in his arms. Maybe it’s the way this history nerd has made her feel happier and more loved than she ever thought possible. Maybe it’s the way his lips pressing a line along her neck is very distracting.
Whatever it is, Nesta finds herself trimming the video to remove the parts at the beginning and end where she started and stopped the recording. Finds herself quickly adding subtitles and typing out an easy caption of, ‘I guess he passes after all… #BookTokChallenge #BookBoyfriend.’ After all, she can always delete the video later if she really wants to.
She presses post and tosses her phone aside, turning around in Cassian’s arms and kissing him properly, more than happy to go stumbling down the hall to their bedroom in a tangle of limbs. And later, while Cassian makes them dinner, Nesta sits atop their kitchen island and decides to open TikTok again, unable to hold in a surprised laugh as she reads the top, most liked comment on her most recent video.
Is that the fucking HistoryTok dude????
Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck
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steddieunderdogfics · 6 months
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Pricklywhicket/@messessentialist ! Prickleywhicket has four fics published to AO3 -- All in the Steddie tag!
Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by pricklywhicket:
so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey
it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)
start by pulling him out of the fire
"Sadie is so super talented in the way she describes literally everything. She is so good at writing and it's a shame that she's flown under the radar because she's not the quickest at putting things out there." -- Anonymous
Below the cut, Pricklywhicket answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
Why do any of us write anything? Because we want the story to exist in the world, and it doesn’t yet, so we gotta hike up our pants and do it ourselves!
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
Hurt/Comfort. I’m always a sucker for the blorbos taking care of one another, in whatever form that takes. This has always been true, across a truly astronomical number of fandoms I’ve found myself dabbling in over the years.
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
…actually, probably hurt/comfort! I just need to get those little dudes some validation and unconditional positive regard, okay?
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
I’m sure I won’t be the first one to say this, but: I HAVE TO PICK ONE????? Okay, alright. I can do this. I’m gonna say…Sanctuary by SpicedSage.
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I’ve only written canon or canon-adjacent fic so far, so I’m eager to work on something that’s completely AU. I think there’s a unique challenge to keeping characters recognizable as themselves in a world that might not have all the same contexts that made them into that person.
What is your writing process like?
I would love to say it’s super organized and well-planned, but the truth is it’s mostly about routine and responsibility. I set aside time to do it every day, even if I can only tap out a few sentences. I’m not very strict about writing in a straight line - I can stop a scene if it’s giving me trouble, write a note about what I think happens in some [brackets], and move on to something that I have more fully fleshed-out ideas for. Sometimes writing the next scene helps you know more about what needs to happen in the current one. 
Do you have any writing quirks?
I'm sure my betas would say yes 🙃 I tend to write a lot of dialogue - a lot of my revision process is going back through and realizing I have two pages of a conversation with no indication of what’s physically happening in the world around the speakers.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
Definitely when I’m finished. Prior to my ‘23 bang fic, I had never written anything chaptered. I knew going in that I could NOT start posting if it wasn’t finished, because I’ve been burned too many times by abandoned works. I didn’t want to do that to people reading my fic, and the best way to avoid it is to finish before you post.
Which fic are you most proud of?
Easily start by pulling him out of the fire. The biggest, most ambitious thing I’ve ever attempted - I still kind of can’t believe I wrote 85k.
How did you get the idea for start by pulling him out of the fire?
Like most terrible ideas, it was spawned in a fandom discord chat. We were discussing the tendency of Steddie fics to centralize the party at Steve’s house, because his parents are never there anyway. And then someone mentioned what if the parents came home and found their house occupied, and someone else mentioned Wayne being there, and it just sort of…spiraled out from there.
When writing start by pulling him out of the fire, what was something you didn’t expect?
I had no idea, going in, that I was going to write a comprehensive history of the Wayne and Eddie Munson relationship. I started writing it where I did to give some background on Wayne’s existing distaste for the elder Harrington, and then I just…kept writing. Over the course of a month or two I wrote 20k of WayneAndEddie that I had no idea was in me - it just kept coming.
What inspired it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?
@wynnyfryd. It was a gift for her birthday. We were talking about our mutual love of Letterkenny, and she mentioned that the episode was her favorite and wouldn’t it be funny if someone wrote… and the rest is history.
What was your favorite part to write from it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?
I had an unreasonable amount of fun with that one in general. But I think my favorite part was Eddie polling the party about what Steve means to them all. It was fun to sort of put myself in each character’s shoes and think about how they would answer. Plus y’know, any excuse to unironically love on Steve Harrington.
How do/did you feel writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey?
I believe my exact words upon deciding to write it were “jingles miserably to a blank google doc.” This was a classic case of saying “god I wish there was a fic where—” and having friends tell me that it was now my responsibility to write it. I’m glad I did, though. I love that story, and it proved to me that I could write sex and publish it and not burst into flames. I also just really, really love summer storms. And Wayne’s use of the singular ‘herpe.’
What was the most difficult part of writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats honey?
Getting over the fear of publishing something E-rated. It was just something I hadn’t done, and I had a lot of anxiety that people were not going to respond well to it. I made three people individually review the sex scenes before I even asked anyone to beta the full fic. Of course I was worried for nothing, the reception for that fic was super lovely and gave me the confidence boost I needed to attempt start by pulling him out of the fire!
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
This is like asking me to pick a favorite child. I’ll say this: most of my favorite lines in start by pulling him out of the fire were taken directly from conversations @wormdebut and I had about the fic. She’s my number one cheerleader and sounding board, and sometimes she’s so goddamn funny that I just have to include it. You have her to thank, for instance, for Steve quite literally dropping his croissant when he first sees Eddie in glasses.
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
I have a couple of irons in the fire, but nothing I’m ready to share just yet! I’ve been taking a breather from writing (blame baldur’s gate 3, okay) but my WIPs are still very much IP. Stay tuned!
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
Not that I can think of!
Thank you to our author, Pricklywhicket, and our anonymous nominator! See more of pricklywhicket's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
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noturlondonboy · 4 months
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Werewolf. Were… Wednesday?
Part 1
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair
Werewolf Wednesday AU
A/N: I really love this concept so I’m excited to see if others like it too. Enjoy!
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Enid had a bad feeling about today as soon as she woke up. For starters, it was her actual alarm that had her rousing instead of Wednesday's intense gaze inches from her face, and that in itself had her mood a bit jilted.
Breakfast proved another point. Yoko was sick and therefore absent to indulge in Enid's latest gossip, and Bianca wasn't exactly very chatty. This left the werewolf with Ajax and a very sleepy Xavier. The two boys were leaning into each other and giggling softly every time the artist would start to doze off against his boyfriend's shoulder, only for one of Ajax's snakes to poke at him through the beanie.
Damnit. Enid missed Wednesday. She couldn't handle being single in front of all this cute gay shit by herself. Where had her roommate gone? It was unusual for her to miss breakfast. It was the only meal they tended to share and the girl hated when her schedule got messed up, even a little.
It started raining as soon as she stepped foot outside.
"Great." Enid walked quickly across the quad in a mess of grumbling and wet blonde hair, and she shook herself out best she could before making her way to her first class of the day- potions.
Another thing about today being an absolute thumbs down. Enid sucked at this class.
But she perked up immediately once she walked through the door and spotted Wednesday in her usual seat, her soft squeal earning a confused smile from Divina in the back row. Wednesday heard her as well and turned to watch as Enid skipped her way to their desk and slid into her spot, grinning at her dark friend.
"Hi, Wednesday," Enid whispers excitedly, trying to be mindful of the fact that class was technically starting. Wednesday is just looking at her with her normally blank expression, but then the neutrality seems to lessen and she almost looks amused.
"You're soaking wet, Enid. You're going to have our room stinking of wet dog."
Enid beams at her. "Yeah probably."
That gets an entire eyebrow raise. "Have you fallen ill? You're happier than what I'm accustomed to and it's making me want to stab Xavier."
"Hey!" Xavier goes ignored from behind them.
Enid shakes her head but does make an effort to ring out her hair a bit more so she doesn't accidentally smack Wednesday in the face with a damp pink strand. "Nope, just happy to see my roomie after missing her all morning." Today was starting to feel a little less terrible already.
Something strange crosses over Wednesday's face but she's interrupted before she can respond. "Good morning kiddos!" Mr. Faroshti claps his hands to get everyone's attention, his fangs glinting as he grins widely.
That was a dangerous look when it came to him.
"We're doing something a little special today, and it's gonna be partner work- so if you're not happy with your table mate... deal with it." He shrugs and walks to his desk as a couple of students groan. Xavier and Ajax are making kicked-puppy eyes at each other from across the room. Enid just nudges Wednesday with her shoulder and wiggles around a bit.
Even if she was more likely to blow something up than not, Wednesday was always patient and willing when helping her as long as she was actually trying to stay focused. Everything would be fine.
Mr. Faroshti passed around a medium sized box to each desk and instructed them all to open it and get started on what he was only now calling a "mystery serum." Wednesday seemed rather bored of the activity, right up until she was halfway through reading the instructions and gave an actual smile.
"Good, it involves blood. That puts me at ease."
Enid grimaced, looking warily down at the open box and what could see of vials and containers full of whatever they were going to use. "Of course it does."
Wednesday almost starts to hum as she busies herself with carefully removing all of the ingredients, handing the instructions over for Enid to read. "You'll be fine, puppy. I'll handle the blood."
Enid doesn't know how to react to the name or the girl's thoughtfulness, so she just does as she's told and ignores the glow on her cheeks.
Halfway through the potion, Wednesday excused herself to the restroom and levels a stare that has Enid sitting ram-rod straight. "Get the next two steps done while I'm gone, they're relatively simple. A pinch of whatever animal essence is in that sealed bag, and a few drops of liquified bone marrow. Stir how it shows you." And then she's gone, her braids swishing lightly behind her.
Enid blinks, bringing herself back to the task at hand. The remaining ingredients are spread out over the table around their mini mixing cauldron, and she located the animal bag and bone marrow before starting to panic. Each box held a different animal essence for each potion, and it was just by chance that the one given to her and Wednesday contained a tuft of wolf fur. The problem was that it looked quite a bit more than a pinch.
But it wouldn't have anything in the box that didn't need to go in the potion, right? Enid looks at it quizzically for a moment before shrugging and dropping the entire bundle into the concoction. The fur sizzles for a moment, then dissolves into the steaming liquid, leaving it a deep brownish red.
The bone marrow goes in without a hitch (ignoring the fact that a fourth of it splashed out onto Enid's hands-it burned like hell for a moment) and then the werewolf carefully stirs the potion until it smooths out. Wednesday appears moments later, surveying the scene.
"You didn't catch your hair on fire. Good."
Enid scowls as her roommate sits back down. "That was one time!"
Wednesday glances at her, lips twitching. "Did you finish the next two steps?"
"I- yeah."
There's a nod of acknowledgment, and Wednesday takes over, measuring and pouring the rest of the ingredients in. Once the shimmering gold liquid is contained in a vial, Mr. Faroshti comes around from where he was helping a struggling Ajax to take a look at it.
"Excellent work, girls! That was done in record time," he beams, holding the potion up to the lantern lighting to peer at it. He hesitates, then frowns, turning the vial this way and that to get a better look. "That's strange..." He carefully holds it close to his nose and wafts the scent closer to him for a second. Mr. Faroshti visibly holds back a gag. "Hoooh boy, that's a strong Werewolf smell. And I think the gold shading might be a little off."
Wednesday's eyebrows shoot up on her head, and she turns to a nervous Enid. "Enid, how much of the animal essence did you put in?"
Enid feels the need to shrink in on herself, tugging anxiously at her damp hair. "Um, well, there wasn't very much of it so..."
"Enid."
"Ok, I added all of it!"
Mr. Faroshti whistles and shakes his head. "Yeah, that's why it looks weird. Go ahead and pour it back in and water it down to balance it out, and I'll take another look at it." He hands the vial back to Enid, who takes it sheepishly with her rain-wet fingers.
And promptly drops it as the glass slips out of her hands.
Said vial crashes onto the desk and shatters into a mess of glimmering gold liquid...
Right onto Wednesday.
Everyone in the room freezes, including Wednesday. She had her blazer off and her sleeves rolled to her elbows today, which meant the potion had coated her arms and splashed to splatter over her chest and neck, dripping onto her skirt. Her eyes were wide and she had her hands up off the desk, as if she didn't quite know what to do with herself. Enid was staring at her roommate with a horrified expression.
She's going to kill me.
But Wednesday turned to Mr. Faroshti, grinding her teeth. "Sir, what kind of potion were we making?"
He swallowed tightly, red eyes ping-ponging over the mess in the hopes of properly assessing the situation. "It was a temporary transfiguration solution. But it was too potent and it got onto your skin..." He shook his head and seemed to come back to life, getting the attention of the other students. "Everyone, Bianca is in charge for a short time while I take Wednesday to the infirmary. Please be very careful when reading the instructions, and leave your work inside the mixing cauldrons for now, until I'm back. Nobody touch the spill."
He hurriedly had Wednesday up on her feet and rushed her out the door, and Enid gaped after them, chest feeling tight. What was that potion going to do to her friend?
Ajax and Xavier slid onto her bench on either side of her to console the werewolf, but she barely heard them through the ringing in her ears. She just looked down at her now dry hands and tried to keep breathing.
Bad day it was.
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joeyalohadream · 4 months
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Headcanon List from my Clegan Neighbors Modern AU multi-chapter fic
This is a little list I put together while I was brainstorming for this story after posting the intro last week. I'm editing Chapter 2 now and plan to post it before the weekend! Just figured I'd share some things because I'm excited for this one! (Buck and Bucky are going to have these balconies next to each other!)
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Gale grew up working on a large farm and has been driving the farm truck around the property since he was ten years old. But he never had a driver’s license and has little knowledge of traffic laws.
Bucky worked for his college’s radio station doing sports coverage and now has a semi-popular podcast called Sports Talk with the Guy from Manitowoc. Curt is a regular guest host, especially whenever Bucky covers boxing, wrestling, etc.
Bucky has a temper and after several bar fights in college, was made to do mandatory anger management classes with the student health department. He has it mostly under control now. Boxing lessons with Curt help.
Gale loves cats and has always wanted one of his own. Unfortunately, Rosie’s apartment building has a strict ‘no pets allowed’ policy. Fortunately, Gale is also very stealthy.
Gale hasn’t been in a relationship since he dated his now best friend Marge in high school. He is only attracted to men but due to his complicated upbringing and stunted social life the last few years stuck on the farm, he has no experience with romantic relationships.
Bucky loves men and women, and while he is no stranger to hook-ups and occasional flings, he hasn’t been in a serious relationship since a failed one in college.
Gale is a terrible cook, but he is really good at baking. He also has a wicked sweet tooth.
Bucky is a good cook and a voracious eater.
Bucky’s mom still sends him care-packages every few weeks.
Curt’s father and his friend’s own boats and yachts, docked at the marina. They pay Bucky good money to clean them and prepare them for use.
Gale hates violence but knows how to take care of himself if he needs to.
Gale love houseplants.
John can’t keep plants alive.
I had to cut myself off but I'm having too much fun playing in this universe! Prepare for lot's of fluff, friendship, romance, hurt/comfort, very minimal pining and these two idiots falling in love!
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shootingcookielover · 3 months
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Villain!Donald One-Shot
Alrightttt because ppl really like the donald duck villain au...
Have a one-shot. As a treat! (I'm not promising more bc my trackrecord of finishing long-form fics is. Zero. But hey, if u like... Feel free to play around w the idea urself! Tag me in that though, i wanna read it, too xD)
Somehow, Donald had thought the days would feel more... Profound than this. That there would be an invisible weight off his shoulders, that the rage and resentment would have finally, finally cut off. Released, now that he was no longer affiliated with... Everything.
But he felt pretty much the same as he always had - bar the inevitable exhaustion of raising three children as a single parent. Uncle.
Luckily they were asleep for now, down for the night. Louie and Huey had, as always, been the easiest to put down.
How could anyone, anyone look at children - these soft, small, terribly fragile creatures and... Deem them fit for adventuring? For fighting off ancient curses and monsters and the undead?
His own childhood memories sat heavily in his mind, that old, familiar prickle of fear and adrenaline running through his system for a moment.
He shook his head, eyes moving downward to the pile of bills laid out before him. A couple newspapers were spread beside them, all open to show off whatever jobs were available right now.
Most of them had already been crossed out by him, the red crayon he'd used for it still rested in his hands. The color had started staining his feathers a little, not that he particularly minded. His shirt was equally stained, he wasn't sure he actually still had a clean one anywhere on the boat.
The boat he could only just afford with the help of the state, with the help of what little financial aid it offered for single parents. An aid, of course, heavily supplemented by one Scrooge McDuck. Living off of it made Donald feel like gritting his teeth. Like breaking something.
Not that he would. He couldn't risk waking the boys. Or breaking something important he wouldn't have the money to replace.
His head thunked face-first into the tabletop, beak squished against papers. A despondent sigh left him.
Money, it always came back to the money, didn't it? His uncle's adventures had also always cricled back around to that singular goal, no matter how much he'd claimed it was about "scientific discovery" or "archiological finds".
And Della had always eaten it up. Had strived to find the most exciting, mystical artefact, not realizing that Scrooge probably would have just ended up selling it to some schmuck.
Maybe, Donald thought, he could break into the Money Bin and just take some of that money. Certainly, once his uncle realized it was him, he would be left off the hook. What, with how they'd parted ways, with how Scrooge had insisted upon being "family".
Then again, family had always ended where the money began.
Donald balled his hand into a fist and finally raised his head from the table again. He plopped his face into his hand, staring sightlessly down at the papers he'd collected.
Even if he could manage to land a job anytime in the near future, he still needed a babysitter or a daycare of some kind. Someone to take care of the kids while he wasn't here.
The mere thought of leaving the boys with somebody else nearly left him breathless with worry. Enough so that he abruptly abandoned his seat and walked through the tiny "living room" area of the houseboat to his room. Their room.
(He'd seen the kind of terrors this world was home to, had fought them himself, even. Anyone of them making their way inside, closing in on the children - he didn't want to even think about it.)
He opened the door, silently as he could, just enough to peek his head inside. He had a baby monitor, of course, charged and ready to use on his table, but that wasn't enough.
He needed visual confirmation.
And there they were, in that crib that Donald had cobbled together, while the boys had been just in his eyesight, playing with toys.
All three were snuggled into their blanket, eyes closed, breathing calmly and only occasionally letting out little snuffles.
A soft smile crept onto Donald's beak.
Despite himself, he stepped into the room. Careful to avoid the creaking planks he'd discovered within his first week living on the boat, he approached the crib.
He reached down, where the little stuffed lion had fallen, that Donald had recently bought the boys. They'd been in love with it from day one, hardly willing to share it even with each other. Donald's heart still ached at the thought he couldn't even afford two more plushies for them.
The lion was lowered carefully and Dewey, always the most active out of the three, who lay at the very right, immediately snatched it away from Donald's hand. The movement was accompanied by a soft, baby hand smacking into his brother's, Huey's, face. The boy frowned in his sleep and turned around, but didn't wake up.
Donald let out a soft breath of relief as he pulled up the blanket a bit, to properly tuck the three in again. Louie didn't acknowledge any of the changes going on within the crib, blissfully, deeply asleep.
Donald couldn't help himself as he brushed his hand over the youngest triplet's head. For a while, he had been nothing but anxious about Louie. Because the little one had been so much sleepier, much less active than his brothers. But the doctor had reassured him that Louie was perfectly fine, his energy levels simply did not quite match up with his brothers.
The doctor had also promptly slammed him with an outrageously high bill for the appointment, but Donald decided not to think about that for the moment. He didn't want to ruin his mood again, not when he'd just managed to calm himself.
He backed away from the crib, intent to go gather the bills and newspapers he'd laid out, maybe look over them tomorrow when he'd had some sleep. (He already knew Dewey was going to wake him up in the middle of the night again, hungry and fussy and bothering his brothers in the process.)
Except as he softly closed the door, making sure it didn't produce a sound, his eyes caught on the opposing wall. Or, more accurately, the window across from him. Because that window was wide open, letting in the cold night air.
Immediately, Donald was on alert. His shoulders tensed as he looked over the room, poised and ready to defend himself as well as the babies in the next room, should it come to that.
But the room looked entirely untouched, except for the open window. A bit dirty, a bit messy, sure, but not anymore or less so than before Donald had gone to check on his nephews.
His brows furrowed into a frown. Strange.
Perhaps he'd opened the window earlier and forgotten...?
Still he didn't relax, even as he approached the window and closed it again. It looked fine, really, no evidence of being tampered with or anything. And certainly Donald would have heard anyone come in, even from the boys' room. Even through the door - it wasn't exactly sound-proof, after all.
Reasanobly reassured, Donald went back to his pile of papers. A few had scattered off the table and now decorated the ground.
With a huff Donald bent down to pick them up.
But as he did so, something red caught his attention in the corner of his vision. It couldn't be the crayon - he was still carrying that around, after all - no. It was an envelope, half-hidden under the pile of other documents.
Frowning harder than before, Donald reached out and pulled it free. His tension was back immediately and his gaze hushed over to the baby monitor for a second. But no sound came from there, nothing indicating anything being amiss.
Only the red envelope in his hands.
He didn't remember it being in the pile of mail he'd grabbed that morning - mostly bills, really - and there was no address on the front, either. All that was written on it in awfully nice, unfamiliar handwriting was "For Donald Duck".
Even as he turned it, he didn't expect to find more. And he was right, the back was entirely blank.
Already over this, whatever this was, he began ripping open the letter. Meanwhile he tried composing a mental list of Scrooge's enemies and which one was most likely to send a threat to Donald, of all people, when he had so clearly distanced himself from his uncle.
The list shattered into a pile of questions as he read the words trapped within the envelope.
"Dear Mr. Duck,
It has come to our attention that you have recently split off from your uncle and are in dire need of both a babysitter and a job. To prove that we do not have any malicious intentions toward you or the children, we propose a meeting with one of our representatives."
There was more, after that, instructions about a place to meet - a public place, a playground in the middle of Duckburg, yet not too far from the boat. Donald knew it well, went there often if only to satisfy his own need for fresh air.
It was a well-frequented place, always full of other parents - some of which had helped Donald with the kids before, some of which he'd thought of setting up a play-date with. Innocent, potential victims.
The thought of agreeing to this made every single alarm bell in his head ring deafeningly loud, but at the same time... His gaze travelled to look over the newspapers he'd been attempting to find a job in.
He sighed as he put down the envelope beside his bills. His finger tapped the tabletop a couple of times, his tired mind busy debating the pros and cons of the situation.
The cons list was pretty long, at this point.
But, even though it was shorter, the pros list held a couple of very important points that Donald would be remiss to ignore.
His musings were cut short by the sudden cry of a newborn.
Red envelope forgotten, Donald dashed into the boys' room again.
----
He'd debated calling Beakley for back-up, just some silent support in case things went south.
Now he regretted that he'd decided against it.
His nerves were high as he sat on the bench, watching the boys toddle around the sandbox. They stayed close to him today, though Donald hadn't told them to. Certainly, if he had, they'd have soread out as far away from him as possible.
Perhaps the little ones had picked up on Donald's anxiety. He had heard from other parents that children often were a lot more perceptive than adults gave them credit for.
Though his nephews were still so small. How could they realize his emotional turmoil? How could he put that on them? How could he put them in danger like this?
Hardly five minutes after sitting down, Donald stood up again.
This was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. Shouldn't have listened to that letter.
He was just so damn tired--
"Huey!", he had barely been able to call when an unfamiliar voice spoke up from just beside the bench.
"Mr. Duck?"
He turned and his heart sank into his stomach. He'd been right.
This was a mistake.
Stood just beside the bench were two people, one he didn't recognise, a duck with red hair who stayed in the back, not appearing to be paying attention. The second was Black Heron.
He remembered her, remembered feeling terrified, petrified as a child, faced with the supervillain. That same feeling now rushed through his veins, alongside overwhelming concern for the boys.
His eyes darted to the side for a moment, glancing to where they'd been just moments prior. They were there still, appearing unbothered as they dug through the sand.
"Black Heron.", Donald replied, voice cool as he returned her gaze.
The other grinned, reaching out with one hand. A robotic hand, Donald noted, with sharp bits and pointed ends that he wanted never, ever anywhere near his nephews. "So you do remember me. I am flattered, Mr. Duck."
"What do you want?", Donald asked, tone harsh. This sort of thing was exactly why he'd left Scrooge in the first place. He had no desire for the boys to get involved with things like this.
Pulling back her ignored hand, Black Heron rolled her eyes. "Now, please. There's no need to be so hostile."
"Yeah! It's not like we're here tl kidnap the kids or anything! Now, if we were planning that you should be concerned, but honestly I don't know if I could do that. I mean, look at them! They're so adorable, I don't think I could focus long enough to take them! Not that I'm particularly good at focussing regardless, but my point is--"
"Quiet!", Black Heron interrupted the ramblings of her... Accomplice, a severe expression in her face.
The other woman looked sheepish and yet somehow entirely clueless and unaffected as well. "Sorry.", she said simply, giving a bit of a shrug.
Donald didn't feel very comforted by what was going on, though he supposed at least they weren't openly threatening to take the boys. He stole another glance at them. They were fine, Huey was busy digging a plastic shovel into the ground, Dewey had started shoveling sand into his beak and Louie looked about five seconds away from falling asleep next to his brothers.
Wait. Dewey was shoveling sand in his mouth.
"Dew-", he began, already starting in that direction.
But he was quickly eclipsed by the red-haired stranger Black Heron had brought along. She sped past him and picked up Dewey from the ground.
Donald's heartbeat sped up faster than the Cloudslayer could fly. "What are you- Put him down!"
But the woman wasn't paying him any mind. She was swaying Dewey back and forth, and... Talking to him.
"Y'know, I thought eating sand was a really fun idea, too, when I was younger, but then I tried it again recently and oh boy, let me tell you, getting the grit out of your teeth is nearly impossible! And, well, I mean you barely even have any teeth but, still you shouldn't get into the habit, y'know? Besides, who knows what all is crawling around in playground sand! You could get all sorts of sicknesses! Why don't you chew on this instead?"
She reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out... A teething ring? She held it out to Dewey and the boy eagerly grabbed it, before shoving it in his mouth. "There, see? Much better!", the woman exclaimed before setting Dewey back down on the ground.
Donald felt a little lost at the display. "I- what?", he muttered, trying and failing to keep his worldview intact. He shook his head. Maybe all the lack of sleep was getting to him.
"Hm, yes, I was surprised, too, but apparently Agent 01 is quite adept at taking care of children.", Black Heron added, arms crossed against her chest as she watched the kids now, too.
"Oh, yeah, I had to take care of my little siblings all the time when I was younger.", the woman - Agent 01? - added, grinning up brightly at them, from where she sat kneeling in the sand, entertaining Huey.
Donald blinked a few times, still feeling unbalanced. Sort of as though somebody had pulled out the rug from under him. His unease and worry were still there, but he found mild intrigue there, now, too. The letter had mentioned there would be a babysitter. And a job.
Donald's brows knitted together again.
"What do you want?", he said again, glancing Heron's way once more, tone a touch less hostile than earlier.
-----
Working for F.O.W.L. wasn't so bad, really, Donald thought. Of course he wasn't one of the actual agents - moreso filling the role of accountant, fiddling with and filling out paperwork, but Donald didn't mind.
He liked it, actually, the quiet that came with it, the calm. Certainly he wasn't used to it; his life had always been hectic, one adventure chasing the next, chasing the next and then he'd abruptly become a caregiver for three children and the very idea of having a calm day went out the window.
But now? He tapped his pen against his desk a couple of times. He had an entire little office to himself, here in F.O.W.L.'s underground headquarters.
A desk with a chair, a couple of filing cabinets, a potted plant. A cozy little carpet on the floor, a "hang in there!"-poster on one wall. A poster with the F.O.W.L. logo on the other.
This might be the most normal experience Donald had ever had. And it was in the HQ of a secret organization that strived for world domination.
Truly only in this family, Donald thought with a sigh.
He scribbled down a couple more notes on the paper he was currently working on, before shoving it aside on the "finsihed" pile. He felt almost at peace.
His teeth came down on the back of the pen. His gaze flitted to the clock that hung above the door.
The document before him was nearly ledgible.
Nearly, because Donald couldn't focus.
Who was he kidding? He was the furthest thing from peaceful!
What was he even doing?! Working for F.O.W.L.?!
He stood up, chair spinning away behind him.
His steps were quick and crisp as he crossed the room. The door opened easily, unlocked, and as he peered outside he didn't find any guards, either.
They were underestimating him, then. He could work with that. He'd worked with that constantly when he'd been a child and none of Scrooge's enemies had taken him seriously.
The hallways looked basically normal as well, as normal as one could get, who knows how many miles under the earth.
Donald strode with confidence, face set into a snarl.
He knew where the boys where, knew that Pepper - Agent 01, the woman who'd accompanied Black Heron that first time - was in charge of keeping them safe and entertained.
How could he have agreed to that? Agreed to have a F.O.W.L. agent watch over his nephews? Even one as apparently harmless as Pepper?
He found himself picking up his pace until he was running through the hallways. Eggheads shot him confused looks as he made his way past, but didn't say anything.
He slid to a stop by the door of the "daycare".
He had to restrain himself from ripping it off his hinges, in a desperate effort not to draw more attention to himself.
In the room itself - floor covered in soft, colorful mats, looking like puzzle pieces, decked out with all sorts of toys and plushies - Pepper looked up in surprise, Louie peacefully napping in her arms.
"Donald!", Pepper exclaimed in surprise, voice subdued for the benefit of the sleeping infant.
Huey and Dewey weren't far from her, distracted by their own little toys. Dewey was chewing on that same teething ring Pepper had provided him at their first meeting.
"What are you doing to them?!", Donald snapped, voice a dangerous whisper.
Pepper blinked, part confusion, part surprise. "Uh, well, I was going to lay this little one down for a proper nap soon and maybe read Huey and Louie a story, later?"
"No.", Donald replied. "What are you doing to them?! To me?!"
"Uhm.", Pepper looked entirely lost at his line of enquiry. "...nothing?"
"Impossible!", Donald snapped. "I wouldn't have agreed to this if I wasn't, if you didn't--", his words died in an unintelligible garble of noise, frustration spilling out of him.
"Mr. Duck.", a new voice spoke up, unfamiliar in tone and cadence, yet he couldn't shake the feeling he's heard it before.
"What?!", he responded, whipping around to face the newcomer.
To face--- Donald blinked a couple of times.
Was that... The head of Scrooge's board of directors? What?
"Mr. Duck, I undrstand that this is all a lot to rake in, but I assure you, we are doing nothing to you or your nephews - aside from providing them proper childcare, of course."
Donald's mind restarted suddenly and he glared. "How do I know you're telling the truth? You and your people have tried to kill me a dozen times!"
"Oh, no, Mr. Duck, I understand how you could have come to that conclusion, but that is not what we - what F.O.W.L. - is all about, not at all. We have not been attempting to kill you, as you put it, but rather to put a stop to your uncle."
There was something awfully calming, relatable even, in the old vulture's stance, in his tone of voice, the way he spoke. Donald huffed, regardless, glancing over at the kids again.
Huey was staring up at him, now, eyes big, tiny beak curving into a smile.
"So you can take over the world.", Donald scoffed, attention returning to the vulture. He didn't remember the guy's name, but he'd seen him before plenty of times. Always complaining about money spent.
Surprisingly, he didn't try to deny it. He nodded. "Indeed. To make it safer. For you, for me, for... Them.", he gestured to the children.
Pepper was humming a tune as she played with Dewey, Louie still securely wrapped in her arm.
"So that none of them have to go through what we did."
"...we?", Donald repeated, confused.
The vulture wasn't looking at him, anymore, gaze placed on something far off, distant. "Indeed. You are not the only one who suffered through a childhood of danger and adventure at the hands of their family."
Donald jerked back in surprise, eyes going wide. "What- you-"
"My grandmother. She always took me along, no matter how little I wanted to.", the old vulture sighed, gaze meeting Donald's once more. "I only want to ensure that this fate does not befall any more innocent children, Mr. Duck."
Donald glanced betweent he vulture and the children still expertly being tended to by Pepper.
Of course Black Heron had already given him a basic run-down of what had just been explained to him, but... Well, it was hard to argue with that look in the other's eyes.
Donald had seen it plenty of times; that haunted, hollow thing. Every time he'd looked in a mirror, they would stare back at him. Every villain, every menace, every danger he'd faced as a child.
Heron hadn't just made up a story to convince a poor, sleep-deprived Donald to join F.O.W.L. he realized.
Tension bled out of his frame as he stepped into the room. He knelt besides Huey, smiling as the child grabbed ahold of his finger.
"...I'm sorry.", Donald muttered, "I don't know what... I understand."
"That's alright.", the vulture answered, easily. "You were traumatized. I know from experience that trusting people can be hard after what we've both experienced in childhood."
Donald gave a quiet chuckle. It was nice to have someone who understood.
Of course, Della had been there - thinking of her made him wince with pain - but she'd never quite realized how much Donald resented the adventures she loved so much.
He reached down, pulling Huey into his lap.
The little boy giggled, gurgling a couple of indistinct sounds.
He would help make sure no other child had to grow up as he did. Especially these children.
His children.
-+-+-+-++
Wow would u look at that! I have no idea how i got here but i kinda like it lol
Poor Donald being put under a lot of pressure aint he? Idk what else to say tbh
If u liked it. Please let me know :D
If u didnt like it... I do appreciate constructive criticism lol
Yes, I made Pepper Agent 01 to insinuate that she was the first egghead that joined F.O.W.L.. I just thought that was a fun idea x3
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